February 2008 Archives
So yesterday's post had me up all night. Not because of anything to do with my computer-- still no word on whether they will be able to fix it-- but because I was trying to figure out what "I had some dreams/they were clouds in my coffee" even means. I can't believe I never thought of this before, because seriously, this had me CONSUMED. Why does anyone care who You're So Vain is about (and especially who cares about a pair of grandmas like Mick Jagger and Warren Beatty?) when clearly the real mystery is why would there be clouds in Carly's coffee?
I sort of get that the idea is that she is saying her dreams of love have turned out to be illusory. I mean, that seems to be the point. But what does that have to do with coffee? Is it like she's sitting outside, and the clouds are reflecting in the surface of her black coffee? Or is it like she has milk or something in her coffee, thereby creating some kind of cloudy effect? One way or another, it seems like an incredibly overwrought metaphor, especially when you consider how genius the rest of the song is.
If anyone can provide me with an explanation, I would like to hear it.
Does anyone know how to get on Judge Judy? I've always wanted to go on Judge Judy-- I think she would really like me, don't you??-- and now I have an excuse. Yesterday some man in a cafe knocked my coffee all over my laptop and destroyed the entire thing. The laptop, my entire manuscript (what there is of it), and my extensive collection of... exotic photos. Just kidding! I mean my extensive collection of MP3s. All of it is gone.
No, this did not prompt this person to get off of his cell phone. He did say sorry, which was nice. But I wanted him to be more specific with his apology. What exactly was he sorry for? For ruining my pants? For drenching a perfectly good spiral notebook? How about for destroying my entire life? I wonder if he felt bad about that.
Signs point to NO. No only did he not offer to buy me a new laptop, he didn't even offer to buy me another cup of coffee. (Although maybe a stiff drink would have made me feel better anyway.) He did give me a crumpled tissue out of his pocket (to wipe off the computer, I guess) before quickly hurrying outside to finish his call. Well. A whole tissue! Well thank you so much!
What would Judge Judy say about this? On one hand, I think she would probably hate this man for yapping on his cell phone while stomping around a crowded cafe with no regard for where he was swinging his ass. On the other hand, Judge Judy is an unpredictable lady and I feel like maybe she might have harsh words for me re: keeping my coffee so close to my laptop. Also for the fact that I never back anything up, as a policy. Judge Judy would not like that at all. She's always demanding RECEIPTS. And I have no receipts for anything.
This sort of thing happens to me all the time, although not usually on this scale. It's why I like to keep Elizabeth Bishop's ONE ART handy at all times. It cheers me up:
The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster...Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.
Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.
I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.
I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.
---Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.
Oh wait. That poem's not cheerful at all! Well, I shan't lie. My laptop is gone. MY LIFE IS OVER.
