tavie.com

Tonight Conan scared the hell out of me.

I'm watching now. Letterman and Leno were strange and moving in their ways, but Conan made me cry. The only other time I'd seen him be anything approaching sincere or serious was when Andy left and he tried to hide his tears. Tonight, he is nothing but serious, he can be nothing but serious, there is nothing else for him to be, and it drove the new reality of our world home in a way that the newscasters and the other media people just couldn't. For many people in my generation or in my circles or who share my general attitude about life, Conan is someone who is admired and appreciated because of his sarcastic, cynical outlook.

Tonight Conan asked us not to be cynical. It scared the hell out of me. I understood it, I admired it, and I was terrified of it.

Is there any way back? Is there any way out? We're all just waiting now. It's the most terrible waiting I've ever known. I don't know what we're waiting for. I'm afraid to know.

The part of me that keeps me numb and distant, that very talented part of me that has kept me relatively free of pain through the various painful parts of my life, is in full gear, has been in full gear since 8:45 am last Tuesday, but no armour is without chinks.

What else? My boss called today. She says they expect the building to get power back next week, she'll call me herself when it's ready, and she really wants me to return to my job. Despite the fact that just days ago I couldn't imagine ever going to that area of town again, I feel now, and told her, that I will be ready and eager to go back to work when they're ready for me.

My mom bought me piggy slippers.

Thinking about Dave and Crissy and El Vez makes me feel good, but I just can't think about it all the time. I wish I could.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 1:16 AM | shower me with attention