During some magical flutter of clarity last night, I dialed Dan May’s phone number. This is more/less what I said on his answering machine around 10:40pm:
Hey Dan, it’s me, Gabrielle. I was just sitting here thinking…Not sure if you’re out, or asleep, or annoyed…but I was thinking about you and your artwork and how maybe we could have some ---- art exchange ---- of our CLIPPINGS! Maybe…I could photocopy some of your clippings, and you could do the same of mine. I know that we both have quite an archive of images, and I want YOURS! Maybe that would be the exchange --- to just have one another’s images as inspiration or something, or…or we could use them in our own projects…Or maybe your machine is going to cut me off. But I just wanted to say that I miss you, and you know, Pamela and I broke up. And it sux. And I would love to get a drink with you. And yeah… so… if you want to call me, that’d be great. Ok…
Why is it SOOO alluring/hard/reDUNKULOUS to leave such insane messages? N. and I often do this kind of thing, leaving these three minute messages on voicemails, but… it’s different right? Do other people do this kind of thing? You don’t know how to end it. You’re completely paranoid you’ve made a (slightly charming)FOOL of yourself, and have no way to erase/edit/improve your words.
So yeah…Give me a call…We’ll talk about art…and stuff….? It’s all so laughable now.
4 comments:
I am notorious for doing this. I find it impossible to not ramble on and on and on, as though we were having a lengthy conversation and the other person just isn't very talkative. I ramble and rant, and digress, and pause, and lose my train of thought, and then feel like, oh god I must hang up right now. So um, bye.
It's part of my charm.
this is so funny because i did this on your voice mail today. enjoy!
it IS charming! i really do LOVE it when i get such messages --- from both of you! any of you!
I am an Olympian voicemail over-talker. I start out succinct and relevant, and end up careening into god only knows what ditch of impertinence. Unfortunately, the longer I've gone, the less able I am to stop, much the way it is impossible to let go when being electrocuted.
But shame is a great incentive to shut the fuck up. I'm learning.
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