In Which I Stare Temptation Right In The Eye...And Then Make Out With It
Scene 1--David's Kitchen:
Me: "Hey, David? I need a piece of scrap paper."
David: "Look in that green notebook on the cupboard."
Me: "Found it. Thanks."
Scene 2--While Driving:
Me: "Do you have anything I can write my Amtrak confirmation number on?"
David *handing me the green notebook*: "Here."
Scene 3--David's Living Room:
Me: "What should I read next? Any recommendations?"
David *points to the green notebook*: "Try that."
Me: "What? You mean the notebook?"
David: "Oh. Sorry. No. I meant the book underneath it."
Me: "I'm out of soap. Is there any more soap out there?"
David *handing me the green notebook*: "Got it."
Me: "David, this is a green notebook, not soap."
David *takes notebook back*: "Oh. Soap. I thought you said "notebook." Sorry. Here you go."
So, first of all, let's just all take a moment to recover from the artistic genius that is those scenes. I mean the themes, Guys and Gals. The intensity. The structure.
I know. It boggles the mind.
Secondly, my POINT with those little theatrical gems was not only to fuck some of Shakespeare's shit up, but to convey to you all that that little green notebook held a place in our relationship. And the place that it held was more "feel free to use this to set your coffee on," than "don't touch this, it contains the contents of my soul."
But, in the end, that's no excuse.
Because, while packing his backpack for Europe, I still flipped it open. And when I saw that, in addition to my Amtrak confirmation numbers and random jottings, it also contained his journal entries, it was absolutely my decision to read that sucker from cover to cover as if my life depended on it.