The idea of unbalanced relationships was brought to my mind over the weekend. For a relationship to work, both parties must be satisfied with the relationship. If one person isn’t happy, then the relationship is bound to fail, unless work can be done to appease that person.

An interesting idea that arises from this is the occurrence of relationships in which both parties have differing reasons for being together. For example, one person might like the good time that the other is able to give, while the other person might like the intelligence of the first person.

I imagine that a trophy husband or wife relationship would be like this. One person has money to offer, whereas the other person has looks, and both are willing to sacrifice for the other.

Even a relationship as unbalanced as this is able to work, as long as both people are happy. And what if one person wants one thing from the other that can only be temporarily provided? The relationship becomes temporary itself, although not to both people.

Yet can such a relationship work? That depends on the definition of “work”. I don’t think that such a relationship can last for long. After all, it is based on the fundamentals of hedonism, to one person at least. The other person, aware of this or not, will only be left alone in the end.

So, hypothetically, one may look at both cases, one case where both parties are aware of the temporary status, and the other case in which only one member knows of such sinister motivations.

The former can be successful, as both people have an understanding of the situation, although an ending of the terms may cause problems such as the end of a friendship. The latter, on the other hand, can only lead to pain.

Being confused about either can only lead to worse.

The weekend sky was aching orange with the charm of thick falling snow. It felt good to be so warm and in the midst of such cold, with the silence of such visual delight.

The Honest Lawyer on Saturday was good. I have never, ever, tasted better fries. They were dark, crispy, not too thick and not too thin, and salted perfectly. They were even presented well in a cone shaped wrapping in a metal holder, with two dips attached. The atmosphere there was well done, with unique lighting and well arranged tables. The only problem was the music, which was turned up so loud that people couldn’t speak to each other. By the end of the night, I had to take some Chinese herbal throat medicine so that I would still have my voice the next day. I had a better time at Trolley’s place beforehand, when we could actually talk to each other. At one point, the girls ordered a chocolate fondue for dessert, and left about half the pot full of chocolate dip.

Aaron, being the sugar addict that he is, started to drink from the fondue pot. I was left holding my brownie half-covered (which happened to be sweet enough already).

I can’t decide whether I should buy the strings tribute to Tool, Third Eye Open. I really have no idea what to expect, in terms of how good the music will be. I would more readily purchase it if I could walk down to a music store and find it, but it seems rare enough that even Record Runner doesn’t carry it. I also discovered Strung Out on OK Computer, which is a string tribute to my favourite Radiohead album, which I have to consider getting as well.

I also found a song called Les Feuilles Mortes, when sung in French, and Autumn Leaves when sung in English. The English lyrics are alright, but the French sounds much better. The first version I had was by Yves Montand, who sings it perfectly with a great pronunciation, but at the end of the song the audience tries to clap in unison with the beat and fails miserably, ruining the song completely. I was able to find a few other versions as well. The one by Diana Krall is a little too simple to enjoy. One by Edith Piaf is good, and she sings well in both languages, but her vibrato is too shrill. There’s a decent Nat King Cole version, but the old style and poor recording quality don’t bode well for it. There’s even a Miles Davis with John Coltrane version, but unfortunately, it’s missing the lyrics and recognizable melody. An odd version by Paul Mauriat is done with synth and cheezy instrumentals, and is possibly the worst one I’ve heard so far. A good modern one done by Cold Cut has a very electronic feel to it, but lacks the lyrical content that the others have. My favourite version so far is by Sarah Vaughan, where she’s able to sing the jazz babble with precision and grace, while displaying her gigantic vocal range. The first time I heard it, it blew my mind away. I might just end up cutting out the clapping of the audience in Yves Montand version if I can’t find a good one.

I figured out the four peasant build. I LUF IT.

I remember watching Seinfeld, and not being able to stand Kramer. He seemed to ruin so much of what his friends were doing, like hiring cigar rollers to roll crêpes, only to have them explode in the faces of customers, somehow causing George’s girlfriend to break up with him.

It always made me wonder why Jerry would never break off his friendship with him, why Jerry would always put up with someone who never seemed to give as much pleasure as the amount of strife he created.

I find the situation to be so common. I suppose that I’m constantly re-evaluating my relationships, and that as soon as a limit is reached, I have no interest in continuing the relationship. It’s probably the reason why I get over my break-ups so quickly, if not the idea of the situation, than the comfort. The fact that I’ve always been the breaker probably helps too.

I spoke with Aaron about it, and he explained to me very well that to Jerry, the friendship was worth it. I now understand that people see their friendships in a different manner, and that what I wouldn’t put up with may just be a simple matter to others.

Sometimes I wish that I didn’t see everything so day-to-day. However, by constantly re-evaluating my relationships, I not only clearly see the problems with bad ones, but I am able to appreciate the ones that are good as well.

An idea that has become common in my beliefs is that I should live as a demanding person, but I should give as much as I get. Perhaps that’s why I stop being friends with certain people, whereas others I would die for. I would prefer to live with a few close friends, as opposed to a plethora of acquaintances. Sometimes it still confuses me though, how people can put up with what I can only see as a terrible flaw.

There’s a fine line between knowing when to be selfish, and knowing when to be kind to others, even if kindness means sacrifice.

I have quite a few errands to run. I need to get my cell phone fixed, return my plane tickets by registered mail, and refund my train tickets. I also have to get working on a bunch of my projects, which are due within the next two months and haven’t been started yet. I need some order.

Wheaties has invited me to go camping during the May 2-4 weekend. I am definitely going to try to be there, but I might actually be in Hong Kong at the time.

Dolly has been jumping up on her scratching post a lot lately. I had it in my room before, next to my desk so that she could mark her scent in a spot that I’m usually at, but I moved it out because it looked very awkward. I moved the post back into my room near my door, and whenever I walk by, she’ll jump on the post as if she has something to whisper in my ear. I’m tempted to buy her a huge scratching post, but I don’t think that I should be spending $450 on a cat toy until I get a permanent job. I did buy a rolling ball with stuffed weasel attached for her to play with today, but I think the ball is too big for her. She doesn’t seem to like to chase the weasel around, just sit and watch it go. I figured for $10, I couldn’t go wrong.

The scene in Being John Malkovich, where Craig Schwartz kisses Elijah on the head, spoke to me the other day. I wish it didn’t.

I’ll be hanging out with Aaron, Wheaties, and Trolley tomorrow, before we go out for Mel’s birthday party. We might do a bit of pre-drinking, but we’re not sure how much yet, since Wheaties is driving. I’m hoping that I’ll be able to show them a few Sealab episodes, which I’m pretty sure they’ll enjoy.

Come on in! We’re OPEN.

Yes.

I hate coming here only to find out that he’s closed. I can never remember if it’s Tuesdays or Wednesdays. I better ask him that. Maybe I should ask him for his card like the one Iain got.

I hope that no one’s in there already. I hope I’m the first one and there’s no waiting. Otherwise, what’s the point of coming here so early.

Damn. Two people. Close the door gently to announce your presence. Maybe I should ask Joe if he has any redhead hairstyle posters he doesn’t need. I’m too embarrased with these other people in the shop.

The Sun. Front page, a woman just wants her son back. How did he die? Fell out of a 10-storey window. Goddam tabloid press. Why did he fall out? By accident. Boring. Teacher on trial for sexual relations with 15-year-old girl. What happened? Mother suspected teacher after daughter was spending an inordinate amount of time with him after school. Mother caught daughter wearing teachers sweater one day. My God.

The old people in here are too friendly. It’s almost as if everyone they know has died, and they’re constantly looking for new friends. Old people must have a connection like that. Their friends must be dying out on them all the time.

Life. The third most wanted Al-Qaida leader captured. CIA special operations group resurrected, page 12. Are all their cover stories on page 12? CIA operative on the job, riding a horse in the desert. Same man interrogating captured American Al-Qaida. Same man was killed a few months later in an uprising. How? Customer is done, but I want to read this article.

Joe greets me as friend. He’s in a good mood today. I wonder why he’s so loquacious. Sorry Joe, I don’t feel like talking today. I suppose he knows so much about history because he’s a barber, and people always have interesting stories to tell. I hope he doesn’t argue with the woman today; my haircut never seems to survive one of his arguments. Please don’t talk to her, Joe. Just concentrate.

I forgot to tell him to cut it a little bit shorter. It’s half-way done though, so I shouldn’t say anything now. Maybe he’ll do it anyway, because he rememebered how I liked it last time. I hope he doesn’t try to style my hair with the dryer. I wore a hat in here, and I’ll wear it back out again, but I’ll put it on when he can’t see me from inside the shop. I wonder if he’d be insulted if he saw me put the hat on right after.

The brush. The mirror. The hair in the back isn’t short enough. Fuck. There’s still colour in the back at the crown. Fuck. It looks stupid.

There’s no one in the shop. The woman is distracted at the other end. Maybe I should ask him now. I should ask him now.

“Where do you get your posters, Joe? Do you get any redhead ones?”

Yes.

I wonder if the woman heard me. He doesn’t have any now, but he’ll keep an eye out for me. I’m so grateful. I hope he’ll remember. I think barbers are supposed to have good memories. Maybe I should have stressed that any redhead poster would be fine. Maybe I should have told him to get me as many as he could. I wonder if he wonders what I want one for. Shit, I should have told him to get me any that he could find.

I know I have a twenty. Why didn’t I ask for change this time? I hope he remembers how much I tip him and just gives me change taking the tip into account. Thanks, Joe.

You do remember.