Living 'softly.
a look into Zach Robinson

"Mistakes were made."
Binky, Matt Groening's Life in Hell

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At Toys R Us yesterday I found wonderful things. First I found eight colours of finger paints. Perfect for my budding inner artiste. Then I found ultra-cool "Resealable Water Balloons". These are little hollowed rubber balls that operate on the reverse suction principle- the water pressure helps close them until the ball is deformed on impact. Quite a beautiful concept. And finally a laminating machine for only $8. They also had the Magic Wizard Potion set again, but after my last Magic Wizard Potion fiasco, I thought I should stay away.

I happily plugged my laminating machine in at work and finally laminated my Certificate of Ministerial Ordination card. I am now officially a card-carrying minister. This makes me happy. You never know when you need to be able to prove that you're a man of the cloth.

I met with the Fusion team today. I've followed these guys since they got split off - or maybe morphed - from the IExpress (setup packaging) team. The meeting didn't have much new information, but the lead PM had a nice subtle Irish accent. I had brought my Resealable Water Balloons - with one full of water - to the meeting because I had just been playing with them. My boss Brian comes in late, sees them, thinks "Ball!", and simply squishily grabs the water-filled one. It was most delightful - there was water everywhere on the poor conference room table. I know you're not supposed to laugh at your boss or enjoy seeing him look like a goob, but it was pretty funny.

Conversation with Peter the Homeless:
"Hello. I'm working on an art project and have two questions to ask you."
"All right."
"First, what's your name?"
scratch... ponder... "Umm... Peter."
"Hello, Peter, I'm Zach. The second question, from my church," (hands Peter $100), "is... what are you going to do with the $100 I just gave you?"
"Buy food."
"Thank you. Have a nice night."

I felt a little stupid about the church stretch-of-the-truth (I *am* a minister), but... I felt it would make him more comfortable. People like understanding the Whys of things, and most of the time I don't really have Whys. I'm just busy amusing myself.

I spent a little over an hour at Denny's on the Ave sketching. I'd started at modeling class tonight, but it was a rambunctious class and as such there wasn't anybody sitting still enough to sketch. I sketched part of Shelby, and then we were practicing our fancy catwalk walks. It turns out Sakura draws too, so she looked over my pitiful sketches without laughing, and then we talked a while about art: how we start an image, what we like to draw, etc. It was somewhat bizarre: I think this was the first time in my life that I'd ever been taken semi-seriously in regards to drawing. I think the drawing pencils really help... it at least gets me paying much more attention to the lines, and I actually try to shade.

At Denny's, though, the inevitable happened... I started drawing comic strips. I hadn't even thought about this possibility. I had picked up sketch pads and drawing pencils yesterday so I could practice drawing, maybe polish myself up a little bit. Part of the whole Renaissance Man experience. And of course the Sketching, Drawing, Real Artistic Endeavor meets my irrepressible zanity and we get ZachMics. They're more image-driven than word-driven, but... I'm not dissatisfied. After all, if The Bench can be a web comic...

The second one I did was Boy Meets Girl, Boy Gets Kicked To Curb. The final frame was Boy sitting on the curb thinking by himself. I accidentally laid a charcoal sketch of my phone o top of the final frame... and the resultant charcoal smudge looks like a tiny rain cloud souring Boy's day. Dumb luck.

reality is here before our eyes, stark naked, but where is the song to announce it?

-Claude DeBussy

I was quite excited to get a letter from the Fringe Festival today. I'd gotten a flyer from them yesterday, which made me remember that they still had not sent me the "Mystery Travel Package" that we'd been promised for being Molten Corps Fringe volunteers. But no, it's just a letter thanking me for my donations to the Fringe. I don't think we'll ever get the Mystery Package.

Tuesday night I got to hang out with my friend and ex Rachel. We hadn't seen each other since the holidays. It was a largely casual night - we had planned on games and a movie. However, I had received a $100 gift certificate from Bellevue Square from my boss as well as Victoria's Secret credit card I'd never used, so she and I went ... lingerie shopping together. That was fun. I miss having an intimate girlfriend, feeling sexy around each other, dressing up for someone.

She was comfortable having me in the changing room with her, but to my surprise they ban guys from the dressing room. I'd been in the dressing rooms before with friends/girl-friends - they kept the bottoms on, so it's at most a "Spring Break at Miami!" style show. I didn't much care either way, so took a seat while she tried on her clothes.

I got to think about the "no men" policy for quite some time. It really made sense to me. No matter how intimate you are with a guy, it seems that it would be so much better, intimate, and comfortable to be trying on your undergarments by yourself.

Anyways... so I hung out for an *hour and a half* while she tried on everything. When the thought was that we'd be looking at stuff together, it made sense to grab lots of stuff to try. But stuck in the Victoria's Secret "Banned Man" chair outside the dressing rooms: that was an awfully boring and awkward time. What do you do? I felt like a lecher. There's nothing to read in those stores. It is *not* the kind of place you want to be randomly looking around, not a place to Meet New People... I tried sleeping a little. I left a couple times really briefly to see nearby stores. The dressing room attendant and I started talking. That was a little unpleasant: she was very nice but in a Physic Friends/metaphysical-type of person way. I'm perfectly content with myself... not having the need to be coddled or healed, the part-puppy part-medium mix of her personality was grating. She did almost accidentally set me up with one girl who came through the changing rooms though, thinking that that girl was Rachel. I've got to say that the sheer ballsiness of getting set up while hanging out in Victoria's Secret would have been a tale to tell for life.

So we went back to my place and I handled some e-mail while Rachel in turn showed me the various outfits. I must say she looked good. I did say something to her that's against the Rules of Working With Girls: I told her her tush was in the best shape I've ever seen it. She's been playing soccer, and it really shows in her body. I was pleased. She showed me the thong she'd bought as well. Usually I am not a fan of thongs, but ... it looked quite good on her.

We played games together and then hit the sack. It was nice cuddling with her again... she's very familar. We're still a *little* awkward cuddling in that we only see each other every four months or so. Regardless, we both seem to know and respect that we're just friends, so it was a very soothing night.

In the morning before she left, I got to cook her breakfast while she took a shower. This made me very happy. A simple meal of scrambled eggs, english muffin, and orange juice. That's woefully unimpressive, but it does represent a start.

My appointment with the dentist was terrifying. My dentist is my uncle Dick Robinson. You'd think I would be comfortable with him. No. Instead I was getting light panic attacks the night before, which increased to outright barely-hidden terror by the time I lay down in the dental chair. My cousin Terry who works there offered my laughing gas, which I very readily accepted. I was terrified. Even with the nitrous, my heart was beating crazily when my uncle entered the room. They put a warm blanket on my body and an ice pack on my head to help. When uncle Dick prepped my mouth for the novacaine shot, I was close to hyperventilating, fighting back my panic with all my rationality. My hands were rigidly cramped together on my stomach...

... and my cousin Terry did the nicest thing. She held my hand through the shot. I couldn't tell her how very much that meant. Afterwards as I was leaving, I gave her a thanks from the bottom of my heart. It was a weep-worthy moment, though. Dentists and doctors terrify me. That's where I'm Mental.

On the other hand, I tend to take very good care of myself as a result. I'll do anything to avoid going back. If I could just stop grinding my darn teeth, I'd probably never need to go back. Oh well. My uncle should have his practice for years to come, and so I'll have at least a dental haven.

Evil information women don't want you to know: Briefs aren't sexy. It's okay if you know that bit; it's common knowledge. But NOBODY tells you without prompting that boxer-briefs are the sexiest choice. I dated Rachel and Alison, and neither of them bothered telling me until this past week that they prefer boxer-briefs. I felt betrayed. Maggie and Heather agreed. Silk boxers are supposedly fairly sexy, but nothing else, really. Oh well. Maybe I was meant to be Cozy, not Sexy.

I keep being told by women that they find me Cozy. I guess that's good for getting cuddled.

Of the various people I've had linking to my site, the link from study guide for Demian is my favorite. The other links are random, but I appreciate that someone at one point either was really confused or appreciated the meaning of "Demian".

Last night I went over to watch The Tall Guy with Heather. I was a little worried about finally seeing her place. She's been so cool so far. It would have been very easy for her to have a Young or etc. housing situation, something that adds a different look to her personality. Instead, her place was very cool. I felt a great relief and happiness. She had stacks and stacks of books set up against the edge of her apartment. Strangely, I think I'd read 3/4 or so of them.

We hadn't really touched previously. She was standing behind me, rubbing my back a little, when I was looking at something, and the broadcasted warmth of her body made me pull her more closely to me. Mmmm. She feels really good. She'd mentioned before that she was a tactile person, and it is quite true. We exchanged back rubs and scratches for much of the night.

She was rubbing my ears, which paralyzed me with delight. I explained to her that it was like someone rubbing your neck softly: it could mean one thing, it could mean another. So the dastardly woman kept on rubbing my ears. [Editor's note: I'm not a Ferengi or anything, but my ears and neck are very sensitive.] This of course led to Reagan's MAS strategy: Mutually Assured Seduction. We just kept being touchy with each other, making each other (at least me) tingly.

I was worried about making her uncomfortable, so I didn't go anywhere with anything. But after a while it just got to be Time To Kiss, and we did.

It was heady.

During breaks from touching and kissing, we talked to each other about what we liked in the other. I was very pleased with her reasons.

When she went to the bathroom later that night, I fell asleep on her floor. So she let me crash with her. She has great taste in pajamas... I got to wear her crossword puzzle pajamas.

I woke up to see her typing away at the computer. I felt comfortable and cozy... safe and at home.

Oh my god. My modeling agent is a pimp. He keeps trying to set me up with 18-21 year old models. I'm not sure what the hell to think. I think I'm flattered as hell. Is he just a really nice guy? I don't know. But it's certainly frightfully amusing. He called me today to tell me about a couple Prospects... one of whom is 18. She heard about me, saw my picture, and is intrigued. And maybe wants to take me as her prom date. Oh my god. I'm sorry. Taking a 27 year old to the Prom? That seems wrong to me.

So I told him that I wasn't sure what was going on, but I'm kind of In To someone now. I'm happy. Even though it's flattering to be set up... this just isn't the time. Weird. When it rains, it always seems to pour.

When I said that I was comfortable and cozy with Heather, I didn't mean to imply that she wasn't dead sexy. Mmmm. Rrrr. I'm so content and happy around her. She's an Addition to my life, and a very positive one.

Yesterday was Betsy's birthday. I had wanted to go to the Esoteric's Solis concert, but... I was happy and pleased being around Heather, and so didn't feel any particular need to to skip out on Heather for a fairly eccentric concert. Especially given that we're barely going to be able to see each other for the next three weeks, since my brother's birthday and graduation are coming up, my grandma is coming to town, Anne is coming back: it will be an eventful month.

I wasn't sure what to do for Betsy for her birthday. I don't really know her, but she's obviously got a sweet and wonderful heart, so I figured as a good person, I should do something for her. I ended up getting her Brian Andrea's Strange Dreams, since it's a beautiful whimsical book. She seems to have a good sense of humor, so I hope she'll like it. Heather approved.

Abel (Betsy's boy) got her a Hotel Blanket. I don't quite understand that, but I thought it was kooky and sweet.

I was a little concerned about meeting Heather's friends, largely based upon the age differential. Some people are very immature or not well thought out. But... I liked all of her friends. There were a couple quiet ones, but they all were good positive thoughtful people, and usually funny. I was particularly impressed by Heather's allegedly ne'er-do-well brother, who reminds me of some of my favorite parts of Ken. Tiny also is a treat, but I may just be interested because she's so very quiet... I have a tendency to want to draw people out.

My friend David from Florida had sent me a couple cloaks, and I brought them to the party. I hadn't had time to try them on yet: they were awesome. They were medieval-ish cloaks: one was a swordsman-style cloak, one a little wizard style cloak. Very cool. I haven't figured out how to generate a good excuse for slipping these into my wardrobe, but I think I'll have to.

It got to be reaaallly late, and I kept edging towards the door, but at the same time Heather and I hadn't finished a conversation from earlier, so I didn't want to leave until we'd had a chance to speak alone for a while. But by the time everyone took off, it was just the two of us... so we layed down on her futon and got close and started talking. She's very easy to talk with, and I really like her mind. We had a long discussion about relationships and experiences. We get along really well: she laughed at all the right points of my recollections of personal experiences. And she's so sweet... mmm. It's like being with a creamsicle: mmm mmm tasty.

I had bought some boxer briefs on Saturday so I could have Sexy Underwear. I didn't have time to do laundry before the party, though, and since I promised Heather I'd wear sexy undies... I ended up wearing my Pouch. It might not be sexy, but it's certainly a hoot. Unfortunately, early in this day she tells me this terribly frightening story about a guy wearing a Pouch, so... I had to play innocent. Egads. What rotten fortune.

She said something earlier in the day that had me running away screaming: she began a sentence, "Now that you have the opportunity to mold a novice...". Oook. That really disturbed me, and I hadn't really vocalized to myself the exact whys of it yet. To her credit - and this is one of the reasons I really like this girl - Heather pinned me down to get an answer. I think my issue is that I always want a partnership to be based upon full equality, and the disparity of experience is troublesome to me based upon that criteria.

I also realized one terrible thing in talking to Heather... I think some times I'm more interested in studying women than dating them... getting to know a particular Genre of woman. Something to think about. I notice this with Heather because I'm not terribly excited by anything she's up to. She's into fascinating things, and that's all fine and dandy, but I don't really "care" about her life when we're not together, and I don't know how she feels about mine: it's just when we're together that it's really cool and interesting. I don't think what I'm saying makes any sense, but ... I'm putting it on the table for my own reference. And the way it looks written there is terrible and so prone to misinterpretation: I guess what I'm saying is that I'm happy with my life now, I'm happy with hers, but my interest with her is just solely in the united times between the two of us. I'm not looking at this as any kind of growth experience (as Megan would put it, AFGE), I'm looking at this as a possible relationship.

I don't know if I've felt that way for a long time.

For me, it'd be really easy to rush into things here. She makes me happy, and she's scrumptious. I don't know. We'll figure things out.

So we spent last night staying up way too late and waking up way too early - we had under 4 hours of sleep - but I feel really good and happy about the day. I really liked waking up next to her. And as simple and stupid as it is, just watching her work on the computer today as I lay in bed wearing her pajamas... that thrilled me deep inside.

May is as much a delight as April was a hell.

I had a doctor's appointment today. I'd badly sprained my ankle almost a month ago, and was concerned that I might have aggravated my old break that never healed right. But I fear and loathe doctors. I'd put if off for too long, though, and my knee and hamstring were starting to get sore due to compensating.

I go to Group Health Hospital in Redmond. Affectionately known as Group Death by many. The greeting I received was unsettling: the admittance nurse didn't speak English very clearly. This bothers me: I'm prejudiced. I realized that I need to relax on heavy Hispanic and Asianic accents: I would be delighted if they had European accents, so it's unfair to be unsettled by non-European people who have trouble with English. I think we're so used to Europeans and European accents being made sexy by the media, vs. Hispanic and Asianic accents, which usually are portrayed as being stupid, conniving or backwards. It was something to chew on while I was waiting.

Actually... they had a chalk board. That was wonderful to play with as I waited. My hands and clothes were covered with chalk dust: I was most delighted, and felt Artistic. Nothing I did was any good, but... I'm getting more defined in my badness, and noticing elements in my drawings to fix and/or augment.

And it remains fun to be Watched. Not being the artistic type, it's still unsettling to find people looking at my work in progress. I wrote "At Least I Tried" in small letters on the board defensively.

While I was going out to get my x-rays, I ran into both Mrs. Shirvey - and old neighbor of mine - and Mrs. Stone - Emily's mom. Quite odd. I chatted with both briefly. I don't know if I schmooze well enough. I don't really pay attention to normal current events - I follow technology, US and some international politics, and that's about it. I've been thinking about getting subscriptions to Z Mag and Maxim to provide some more flavor to my reading diet. We chatted about what we were up to. They asked why I was there (ankle). I felt a little awkward asking the same question back. Mrs. Stone was worried about possible skin cancer, having grown up in Kansas back in the days before we figured out that everything causes cancer. She thinks she should be fine, but her brother had non-scary skin cancer and so she's being careful.

My x-rays were thankfully negative. The sprain is pretty bad - it's still bruised three weeks later - so I get to wear this huge honkin' Darth Vader style ankle brace for sports for a while. Plus some ankle rehab exercizes. Oh well. [As it turns out, this brace feels absolutely fantastic: I want to wear Brace all over my body now: it is incredibly comfortable.]

I had told my doctor (Dr. Kramer) that I was very uncomfortable with hospitals, so she did a magic trick(!) to help relieve my stress. It was wonderful! I fell in love with her on principle. She took a dixie cup of liquid nitrogen and splashed it on the floor - fwoosh! it vapored up. Quite delightful to watch. [The science buff in me points out that there's some way to touch liquid nitrogen to your skin safely, but I can't remember the exact means. I think it's just pouring it on your hand - it vaporizes as soon as it hits your skin, I believe, so there's a constant air cushion. Don't try this, though, unless you look it up and you're certain that that's how it works.]


I don't believe in trouble.
I don't believe in pain.
I don't believe there's anything left but running here again.

I don't believe in promise.
I don't believe in chance.
I don't believe you can resist the things that make no sense.

-Franka Potente, Believe

I held my own against Michel in backgammon. Michel's a grandmaster of parlor games, but I'm figuring backgammon out pretty quickly. I almost left up $2.00 (we were playing $0.25 games), but we Double or Nothing'd the final game which he barely pulled out. The interesting part of the gaming was talking about Maggie, and trying to figure out what happened there. I like to leave people better than I found them - or at least different - and I don't know if I ever reached her. I wanted to know from Wise Michel how I could have, what I could have done differently. Surprisingly, Michel's advice was: walk away. We talked for a while, and thought that she might have needed somebody to be mean to her, to treat her wrong. I'm obviously not that guy: Michel said I was just too nice for her, which ties in to what Maggie had said.

I just feel wrong about the whole thing. I don't like ending things on a stupid note. We both were sure she's off dating somebody new, but... why didn't she take the time to ever call Michel? He's a cool guy that she'd gotten along with. I think I have to think that she's just not truly comfortable with people that don't want anything from her? I don't know. Oh well. I guess it was a mistake.

I asked Michel what I could have done differently, how I could have known that she was mental. He suggested that her behavior at the Fringe Finale Party was indicative: her startlingly different personality (mynxishness) then versus the rest of her behavior should have been a clue. I don't know if I buy that. I want to believe that some people have a hard time expressing how they feel, and alcohol could enable that for some people. I want to think that was her then. But... maybe it *was* her, and it's only via alcohol, through the haze where she doesn't have to care about how someone responds that she can truly express herself. Regardless, it was a bad situation. I guess I learn. It just bothers me to feel I failed as a friend.

I had a great conversation with Rachel today. We'd been very close and snuggly and affectionate when she visited, and ... I think I clearly realized that This Woman Is Not For Me. We've been broken up and it hasn't been on the table. But being close together brings these kind of thoughts to the foreground. So when we talked on the phone, I mentioned this thought to her, and she agreed. She feels she'd be jealous of me in my current make-up. That I get too excited by people other than her. Whereas her diary talked about her one lust, my journal... it talks about all sorts of people that I find wonderful and delightful. "Unfortunately", that's the kind of person I am: bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, and naively seeing a princess in every ragamuffin. But that's the right thing to think: almost everyone is beautiful in their own special way, and I've enjoyed getting to know the various people I've met. I appreciate and love people, and I don't have a problem with that. For my partner, I want someone as equally excited by new wonderful people, who understands that I am going to swoon over Tiny's quietness, but at the end of the day I want to come home and hold them.

Heather asked an interesting question last night: she wondered how she would keep my interest. I'm not terribly fickle, and I don't think that was her point. I thought about it and had to say that I've geniunely enjoyed without pause our time together. At this point, I can keep doing whatever we're doing ad infinitum: be it kissing her, talking with her, playing with her, being at a party with her... I just enjoy being around her. There are Limits to our relationship, but I think that makes me more comfortable than anything else. Michel warned me to watch myself and not let myself get hurt, but screw that: I'm going to enjoy leading with my heart, like a child with its head out the window. Maybe some days a bug will hit you in the face, but on the whole the breeze is wonderful.

Komm zu mir.

She makes me smile. I want some silly picture of her. I don't know if I've felt that way before. I've had people ask me for pictures, and I never understood why that'd be interesting until now.

Ack. Just got back from the doctor: I indeed broke my hand last night at soccer. It's called a "Gamekeeper's fracture" (base approxial filange, I believe, but I don't know the spelling yet) and I get to be in a cast for four weeks. Luckily I knew it was broken and went in today: my doctor said that this may have saved me from needing surgery, but... we'll know in two weeks for certain whether I've avoided surgery. The stupid thing is that it's the damned thug team Elian United that broke our keeper's hand last time: I'm going to have to write a letter to the league about these jerks.

I miss having two opposable thumbs. It's something we really take for granted.

I thought I'd be all stylish and cook for Heather last night when she came over. I got Boboli pizza makin's, some strawberrys, bread to make garlic bread with. Of course by the time she came over she'd already had food. Colour me silly.

We watched Cupid together. I had wanted to watch the First Loves episode (guest-starring Lisa Loeb), but I didn't have that episode marked for some reason... so we watched the premiere episode. Happily, she really liked the show. I was a little worried that she wouldn't like the show, and that would have been sad because it does such a nice job of summarizing much of what I stand for.

I'd realized that she and I had had a very easy and relaxed time together, so I decided to play a game with her in order to increase the competitive level. It went really well and smoothly, though, which was relieving. On the down side, it was a close game, not a blow-out, so... we'll see how we cope with real "competition" between the two of us. I'm pretty relaxed and laid-back... I wonder how she'll be. I was happy to see her intelligence coming through in her game play - she made some sillyish moves late in our Chinese Checkers game, but that's to be expected of newbies. And I barely escaped with the win, so I'm not one to talk here.

We had our first Serious Conversation, too... I wanted to make sure she had a good feel for who I am. We discussed past relationships, my reasoning for getting involved with who I got involved with, why I've avoided the Girlfriend and Love words for a long time. It felt good to have her understand me better.

After spending an hour traipsing about looking for the Shoreline soccer fields, I just gave up. I probably needed the rest anyways.

Since I was in the area, I called Heather up to see if she wanted to get some dinner. But she was still out, so I just left an "AM HUNGRY. ZACH." message for her. Since I'm trying to heal my bone, I went ahead and had a light snack anyways, then went to Winchell's and read for a while.

I love Winchell's. It's the Taco Bell of snack stands: for under $2 you get at least two tasty donuts, it's a nice quiet atmosphere to read in, ... it's unassuming and a great place to sit and relax.

I had been a little paranoid about calling Heather: I didn't want to 'overstay' my welcome and see her too much. Things have been so easy and nice between us, though, that I felt daring. We both have quick minds and there haven't been uncomfortably silent pauses, no idle people-watching - which is fun - because there wasn't anything to say... my time with her seems Filled, and I like that.

She's good people. I'm curious to see if the Youth Factor is going to be a problem when she meets Kate, but Kate likes Heather so far.

She ended up calling me, and we had a light dinner together. After dinner we went back to her place. It seemed like I was invited in, but I didn't want to assume, and since it was already 11PM I was a little uncertain what the plan would be.

I felt like a gimp. The doctor told me that I accepted/dealt with getting the cast better than anybody she'd ever dealt with before. Still, there's a psychological weight to a cast: I feel lessened as a person due to it. I can't type as quickly, am not as athletic... I have to be purely right-handed again, when I'm used to being partially ambidextrous. <sign>.

When she invited me to stay the night, I hesitated. With the cast, I didn't feel very wonderful, and maybe not wonderful enough to stay over. But... part of liking someone is letting them see you when you don't feel Beautiful, so... I stayed.

She read me Vonnegut's Long Walk to Forever as I was drifting off to sleep. I had to stop her from doing this for a little bit... I was too overwhelmed by her. She's so interesting and wonderful; I needed a moment to bask in her presence briefly. The story... well, I do like fairy tales, but this seemed like a bad version of the Knight's Tale from Cinema Paradiso. I think I liked it until the end, but Vonnegut's ending cheapened the work. I'd rather not have a definitive answer than the one there, which seemed contrived. But maybe that's the point: a satirical assessment of the 'romantic' mentality?

Today's entry will be updated in three parts. This is update #2.

It was my brother Derek's graduation weekend.

I guess I give my brother a lot of credit at times, and to see him - in general other people - be less than what I expect them to be... it's unexpected and disappointing.

I understand in theory that he's ... a young guy, and used to be a punk. I just thought that period in his life had ended.

The family was out at dinner together, and my brother was discussing his desire to live with his girlfriend. I can understand this - it makes a lot of sense to me. They're old enough to be in love, but not old enough to be sure that *this* is the person they want to be married to for the rest of their lives.

My parents don't really believe in people living together before marriage, because I think in their moral views, that would be improper. Hence a long "discussion" came about.

One thing my brother has improved on: he can actually hold his own position in a "discussion"/argument in my family. This is an art. My parents might not notice it as much as I do, but my mom is a very powerful force within the family and I'm glad that my brother has developed the internal strength to try to reach good compromises with them.

I largely stayed on the sidelines during this discussion, a role I often find myself in. I tend to only butt in when things get a little too nonsensical.

Unfortunately, my parents were encouraging my brother either not to live with her, or to Marry her. Since my brother really wanted to live with her... they were heavily talking up the marriage angle.

This was extremely disturbing to me. The poor boy is 22 years old and just got out of college. Marriage, if it means anything, is supposed to be about Truth and a Permanent Commitment. To try to argue or convince someone into marrying someone? Deplorable. I was deeply perturbed. Use *any* other option - including explaining that in your view someone should not be living with someone else unless they're married - but *don't* approach it from the angle that you will Need to marry someone. Maybe it's just the way I heard the conversation and not how the conversation really went, but it scared me nonetheless.

Thankfully my brother held his ground in that regards. I gently chided my parents later about the way they approached the issue, and they seemed to understand where I was coming from. I think they liked my counterproposal, which was to point out the very probable dependency Derek had on Lisa. I think Lisa truly loves Derek, but ... I'm not sure how mature my brother is yet. As I saw later that night...

Later on that night the Brothers Three (Derek, Dustin, and me) went out to a WSU party. It was held on the roof of one of the nearby apartment complexes. We had stopped by a couple smaller parties earlier, but the roof party was, as my brother would put it, the bomb. They had used an extension ladder to access a highly recessed skylight, then brought up full party equipment - including disco ball and two turntables. Very nice setup.

The party was very cool. Oddly, I ran into a couple old friends. Tom Cosgrove, who went to my high school and dated my friend Shannon, was still completing his degree at WSU. Bizarre: even though he's a year younger than me, it's weird to me that people could take eight years to get around to entering the real world. He seemed to be a little too into achieving Altered States of Consciousness: I don't think I'll ever really get that scene.

Derek introduced me to the coolest girl at the party, this cute red-head who was a really great dancer, saying, "Hey, what do you think of my sexy older brother?" I was pleased. At the same time, part of me groaned: yet another cool exuberant fun person who's just internally insane (several people talked about her around me). Why are the coolest people so ... wrong in the head? Maybe I'm too sensitive to the matter after the whole Maggie fiasco?

Dave had warned me that "bar chicks" were indeed almost invariably wrong in the head. I don't know. Maybe I'm just not the right kind of for Mature Realistic (meaning not romantic) Women, but I don't think if I truly buy that. Still something to think and chew on.

I got introduced to a girl who was very curious about my family, so we started talking about my day, and I told her the about the conversation my parents had had with Derek earlier. I explained that Derek had been dating Lisa for almost three years now and was really in love with her, but marriage... not for him right now.

It was only two hours later that I found out that that random girl who'd I'd talked about Derek's love for Lisa... had been the Other Girl. I don't know or want to know the story there - those who assume virtue could assume that she was only someone Derek had feelings for, but... jeez. I was disappointed.

I want him to grow up and be mature... and I don't think that's going to happen easily or soon. I see him treading the line between maturity and high-school punk behavior, and it saddens me.

Hmm. Yesterday at work was another poor day. Other people's changes came up to bite me on the tucchus, and it took me almost the full day to sort it all out. I came in today, and immediately hear that my changes didn't work, that things are failing right and left, and all is in light panic. Two hours later it comes out that one guy's tests were screwed - my stuff did work - and the other error is still present like I said it was going to be and is still ignorable like I said. Gah. And now Howie can't understand what it means not to localize a string, and the build team can't generate a valid XP build on their own and needs baby-sitting in order to be able to get the build out.

This is disgruntling. I have enough work on my own: I can't be playing team clean-up guy. It is nice to be recognized as a key resource, but... I worry that the time I spend working on other people's problems could be better spent making positive product contributions. Being a cleaner isn't my idea of fun.

Shoot. And now I send a mail to the war team telling them not to worry, that an error is completely ignorable, that the player still works fine, and that I'm working on figuring out what happened. Of course my boss replies back to everyone saying that no error is ignorable. Huh? Great faith in your employee. I understand that he means that this isn't something to ignore... but this is just not an interesting thing to be looking at given the other multiple current fire drills.

Sometimes it's nice to see yourself written about in other people's journals, sometimes it's unsettling. I've been really busy since I got back from my brother's graduation. The graduation gave me a lot to think about. It also made me think hard about what's important in my life.

So... coming back from graduation I mulled over some things that had been puzzling me. One of the relevant thoughts was that I felt really close to Heather. I wanted to make sure she had a better understanding of me. I think most of everything I am is pretty transparent. I hope that you can be with me for a day and have a good understanding of who I'm going to be for the next twenty years. At the same time, one's life is often impacted by the stupid decisions of others, and my life definitely has been. It hasn't changed who I am... but it is something that it can be important to talk about with others when you're trying to be Transparent to them.

That's how I've felt with Heather. I've felt really close to her, I've felt I can't get enough of her: she's Good Stuff, and in a limited aspect I need to ensure that she's been drawn a clear enough swath of me to understand and make valid judgements about me.

It's not like we're getting married or anything, but ... I think I'd like her to be my girlfriend, and I don't feel comfortable about asking if she doesn't truly know me according to my criteria. I've lived my life as right and true as I can, but... there comes times when other people's lifes affect yours, and then you can only hope for the best. We're about halfway through the Story of Zach now. We've briefly covered the very sad depressing last summer of college, and how that led to this surprisingly wonderful job at MS. I still think I need to fill in more detail, though, so she understands better. I could bail out now, and might in other situations, but ... she said she wanted to know these things, so she's going to know them. <grin> / Bleah.

I had so much work to do yesterday. I was planning on doing it last night after the modeling class, but Heather started instant messaging me and somehow it ended up that she offered to come over and I just can't say no to that.

Modeling class was very interesting. We had a guest teacher, Keston, to teach us Photo Movement. 3 hours boiled down to three points: move slowly, use negative space (body spacing), and be a good little automaton for the photographer. After we learned Photo Movement for two hours, we each got six minutes in front of the class to be a model for the class. While people were modeling and we were yelling movements at them, I used the opportunity to quickly sketch them. Various of the class looked my sketches over and were complimentary: I can't say how exceedingly pleasing it is to have really attractive women nuzzling into your shoulder so they can get a closer gander at your creative work. I'll never have much confidence in my sketching, but it sure was one heck of a way to get a compliment.

Sakura brought in her sketches to show me: that made me happy. I'm glad she felt comfortable sharing them with me. I think one sketch might have actually been for me, but it was in the middle of class so I couldn't ask - and I don't like assuming.

I got to work, finished a couple critical bugs, got the tempting offer from Heather, and went home to find her there. Swoon. So we talked, but there's also a lot about her I don't know so we kept having my monologue become a conversation. I'm interesting in asking this girl out and almost wanted to hush her - how terrible. It's a hideous double-standard: I feel like I know enough about her to ask her to be my Girl, but want her to know more so she can make an informed decision. This is stupid. This is why I haven't had a Girlfriend for years: because I'M A MORON.

I really like waking up to her. I'm so happy to be next to her that I almost subconsciously start kissing her when I wake up. We have yet to figure out how to Just Sleep together. Actually, that's probably just me. Hmm.

Going out to my car in the morning and finding a little note from her on my car: that's really sweet, and it makes my whole day brighter.

I've been learning a lot recently. Dating Maggie and Heather has been eye-opening. In some ways they make a great contrast, in some ways the experience with the two of them has been very complementary.

As much as I've been doubting whether I'd be compatible with a Mature Realistic (non-romantic) woman... I think Heather and I are building a mature realistic relationship. At least in how we interact. We've been spending an awful lot of time together - I think we've clocked in at 18 dates in about a month - but we're always There with each other, sometimes too remarkably so.

For example, we went to Player King's Ballyhoo on Saturday night. I've always really liked the show, and they had retooled it for the latest production. I had extra tickets in case my brother Derek and his girlfriend were free, but they were doing birthday things with friends. I thought about calling other friends to join Heather and I... but I'm really exhausted right now, so just Didn't. Happily, Ryan Dobisch - who used to be in Theater Dangerously with me and now is in the The Habit - didn't have tickets, so I gave him the tickets.

So Heather and I sat down in the front row, and she proceded to watch the show. The retooling really brought out the comedic elements, but made it a little less of one big immersive vision - which was one of my favorite elements in the original version. Regardless, Heather liked the show... and I... uhh... ? Show? What show? All I knew is that it was a cheap excuse to be next to Heather.

That sounds terrible. But being next to her was so much better than the admittedly great show. I felt quite bad: every once in a while Michael would punctuate a scene right in front of my face - quite possibly playing to me since we know each other - and I would almost be startled because I had only been half paying attention to the show.

I like her smell and the way her skin feels to my touch.

As we were leaving, I felt a little bad about my inattentiveness to the show. I suggested that we needed to do something Brilliant together... I needed to have something distract my attention from her. Almost all of the time we're together I'm so conscious of her... either we're talking or we're touching or I'm conscious of her conversation with someone else across the room and am happy that she is being enjoyed.

We've been good at that: in the two different parties we've attended together at this point, we haven't spent much time clinging to each other. Yet even for our lack of physical proximity through much of the night... they've felt like parties we went to with each other. And throughout the party a part of me knows where she is... I'm not watch-dogging her... just very aware of her. She's too interesting to lose track of? I'm not sure how to describe it yet.

We'd planned on having dinner together before Ballyhoo, but she'd been running late so we'd missed out. Since I'd been wanting to take her to a nice dinner for a while... I took her to El Gaucho. She had on a nice swank outfit, so I thought we'd fit in well. The shirt was mine... shamefully, I quite liked it on her, and kept petting it on her. My clothing selection pleases me: pettable clothing is a wonderful thing.

Our waiter was a very tall very cute black man. He looked familar, and I realized about half-way through dinner that he was Leon Palmer - one of my rock/punk friends (along with Dan and Chris) from high school. Weird. He's finishing up his math degree at UW, and working a couple jobs in order to be able to try to afford a house.

Dinner was - as I'd come to expect between the two of us - talkative and interesting. I'd covered the major events in my life, so this time around it was her turn to talk about the loss of her mother. These conversations are very organic... but it all definitely smacks of people who want each other to know each other very very well. This makes me happy.

This Week's in Zach's Head

I don't know exactly, but I think I've spent four or five of the past seven nights with Heather.

It's been bizarre. To understand, I have to walk backwards through it... we wake up and kiss for too long and we try to squeeze the last available minutes out of the morning - or afternoon - before we have to part.

Then we part just after she does something wonderful. Perhaps it's leaving a note on my car (every night she's been here but one), perhaps it's coloring a little picture for me or fluffing my sheets or making a little creation with my block set... or giving me a fresh baked cookie just before I leave. Something that says to me that she's a lovely person, somebody a little new but with a lot to offer.

So I walk away from it all thinking maybe I haven't been doing enough.

Because before we went to sleep, we were making out for hours. We get in bed and lie next to each other and she's got delightfully soft skin and I like to kiss... and so we stay awake until the wee hours kissing and touching.

So I leave in the morning wondering about this relationship, and worrying.

I worry that I'm being too physical, that we're being too physical.

But... before all this? Before we get into bed? In the morning I forget too easily - her body is fresh on my mind - but... we spend the entire previous night talking and having fun and exploring together. I have a great great time with her. It's too easy for me to forget that the connection we find in the bedroom is merely an extension of what we have all the time.

Heather asked me how I felt about her Limits in the relationship. While we differ radically on religion - she's an Episcopalian and I'm a devout agnostic - the only one real issue that appears to be in the offing is her desire to remain a virgin until her marriage.

It's a relative question, and a nice compliment: she thinks we'll be together long enough for it to be an issue. I don't disagree, but ... it's to me a little early to be thinking about that. At the same time, it's been a popular question.

So... what are the implications of no nookie? To me obviously it's the most intimate act on a lot of levels. But it's also the most awkward of the Options, the one requiring the most physical coordination, understanding, timing, stability...

I know other people like to have sex but until I know I'm in love with someone, I do not like to or desire to have sex. It just doesn't work right in my heart. So... the reason I've felt that question is premature is that... I don't know if we're in love with each other yet. Falling in love? Maybe. Quite possibly. All my friends - no exceptions - like her and wish me luck. In a way, that scares me. I'm used to *someone* not liking my choice. Am I being too crowd-pleasing? (grin)

Seriously... she Chooses Not To, and that's enough for me.

I must highly recommend the Klutz Body Crayon Book. It's a delightfully artistic way to indulge in your partner's body... I do ever so much enjoy using my partners as living canvas.

I went to the Folk Life Festival with Heather, Anne, and Betsy today. We ran into Jason Webley briefly. Anne had brought her sketchbook. She had some sketches of Jason that she decided to show Jason while he was watching someone else busking. Unfortunately...

  1. Artistic types are unpredictable
  2. Artistic types are easily cantankerous
  3. People often fare poorly when interrupted
... and so her encounter with him was much less than she had hoped for. Supposedly this may have been because his "old" personality that she had drawn was now dead, and Jason considered himself reborn. Whutevah: she was approaching an idol, and I think it was a little rude of Jason not to be able to handle it better.

I get a lot of e-mail from people trying to sort out Windows Media. I specifically ask people not to send me this e-mail, so I could be rude... but I try not to be. I try to respect that they come from a position of ignorance, and that not only are they approaching me in my area of expertise, but ... I often represent to them (as a Microsoft employee) a type of person they've only heard rumors of. I figure the least I can do is be a decent human being back to them, regardless of how cranky I am or how angry they are.

The Electric Bonsai Band concert - the reason we'd gone to the festival - was, I thought, great. Andrew didn't try any of the songs with too many highs, but he played a good solid look through his wonderful repertoire. I was quite pleased, and very happy I was able to share his music with my friends.

When we were talking after the concert, it came out that Heather's only ever other boyfriend, Kelly, was Lonnie's younger brother (!). What a teeny tiny world. I was put off: I respect small worlds, but ... I'm getting weirded out by how small it is. I want some distance between peoples sometimes. Everybody knowing each other makes me feel that I'm too cloistered: it makes me want to move or change.

After Heather and Betsy left, Anne and I drove off. Anne told me what she thought of Heather... in her words: "I really like her. You made a good choice."

That was hugely surprising to me. I'm so used to the acerbic Anne that I never take for granted that she'll like what I like. Maybe she likes what I love? What is closest to my heart, she also finds affinity with? I don't know, but I was shocked and pleased by her comment.

I'm out of my cast now. The doctor cut if off Monday so we could get it X-rayed again. Unfortunately, there's still a chunk of bone left to grow back. So I had the choice to either have a cast put back on for two weeks, or to wear a splint. My choice.

Usually, I would have taken the safe route.

But I was going to see Maggie later in the week - finally reclaiming my copy of Demian - and ... I found the thought of Maggie seeing me in a cast intolerable.

After feeling so close to her... the way things ended between us, I realized I didn't trust her and maybe didn't like her at all.

Letting people into my heart... that's a private space, in the final view. I'd cleanly made the transition to Friend... she didn't, and freaked out about it. I didn't and don't respect that. She tried pressing things and found herself put out by her actions. What she did was stupid and thoughtless... it just didn't make sense.

So... I couldn't stand the thought of her seeing me in a state of weakness, and went with the splint.

I saw Maggie Thursday for lunch. It wasn't as bad as it could have been, but we'd talked on the phone for an hour the night before, so all the Small Talk was gone, and I just didn't feel like broaching anything further with her. We had lunch at Cafe Flora (excellent as always), talking about our respective beaus, I got my stuff back...

... and more importantly got my heart back.

I don't think I've ever been less attracted to someone I'd gone out with.

I could see such possibility and potential - as friends - with her when we were friends, but now: I think to myself: this woman went psycho on me once. And that's it. I easily just walk away and think to myself I'm glad she's not in my life anymore.

I'm overanalysing things with Heather. It's been so long since I've had a physically slow-starting relationship, I find myself double and oft quintuple guessing myself. Tami and I started really slowly as well, but... I was less biased then? I don't know. Things really aren't going that slowly between Heather and myself, but it *feels* slow. Especially given ... ~20 dates in a month. It's been five years since someone was this cautious in regards to my plans.

It's the absolutely only aspect of the relationship that gives me pause, but it's also the one arena that differentiates friends from dating friends.

Perspective. This is an arena I'm comfortable with and in, one that she isn't atall experienced within.

But I can see how this could be disruptive: I'm such a fool leading with my heart all the time, it's odd for me to be involved with someone who voices limitations straight off, and additionally who is hesitant to let physicality unfurl at my usually respectful pace. 27 vs 21?

I worry and I wonder, yet I know at the same time that this woman is really incredibly great, that she's so caring and generous, intelligent and funny, sensual and artistic: and so forth. Most enjoyable and wonderful.

I think my problem is that I want it all, and I've already been told I can't have it.

Maybe I think too much for my own good
Some people say so

-Paul Simon, Think Too Much (a)

Now that XP RC1 has shipped and I'm not quite in the line of fire for at least a few days, I was just relaxing answering user's newsgroup questions while High Fidelity played in the background.

This movie makes me think too much.

There's a line in the film...

College is the time for sex.

or so (I'll correct the quote later) and it hit me and bothered me. I don't think that Heather is the kind of person that wants to dance around and play the field, to date random people, but... is that a necessary or interesting part of life? It's something that I think I should have spent more time doing: just dating people instead of trying to be serious and ... boyfriendy. I should have been more independent and followed my own voice further.

So now I go home at night to Heather and... it makes me happy, truly happy, but... is it best for her? I don't know. Maybe I should be introducing her to all my cute male friends so she has had some time picking through the plates of available males before she settles down at all into anything. Why be seriousish at 21? Isn't that almost backwards in this day and age?

And then of course there's Cusack's proposal late in the film, when he talks about how she's not the perfect girl for him, that she's Real and that maybe that's what's been keeping him from committing, that this is what he wants.

I thought about that a lot while I was working. It's a very darkly romantic speech... and it hits home. It makes me realize what a wonderful thing I have in the not-perfect Heather, makes me want to better understand the dynamics of the relationship so I can be better for her.

And then I look at the downside of his speech: that's he talking about commitment, something that may not be truly possible with my to-be-flighty girlfriend (who's heading off to study in the Netherlands in a year and then goes to get her Masters and her PhD...) and it comes back to me that I need to let her breathe and enjoy the boys.

This reminds me of why I need to date people my own age. I don't think it's fair to either of us to be dating people at such a different point in their life. I always say it, I always feel it... but that optimistic unjaded approach to life is harder to find in older peoples... so I keep dating young ones.

But... she fits so well. She feels like home to me, and fits into my life as naturally as anyone has.

...When the truth is like a stranger
Hits you right between the eyes

There's a time and place and a reason
And I know I got a love to believe in
All I know I got to win this time

-Def Leppard, When Love & Hate Collide

I wanted Heather very badly last night. I was laying on the couch reading as she got ready to go to a friend's party, and when she came to give me a kiss I find myself fighting the urge to pounce upon her. But I held myself back quietly, kissing her gently if a little hungrily, and let her go to her party. While she was away I "relaxed" a little bit ala Something About Mary, and continued reading The Fountainhead.

I had thought that taking the edge off would be helpful to my letting her sleep... but: no. There's something so primally attractive about her. When we climbed in bed together... I simply wanted to pull our bodies into each other. Biting, scratching... I felt very animalistically passionate. I can't think of when I've ever wanted anyone that much. I held myself back still, but the hunger in my body for this woman was undeniable.

I thought the allusion to mating was perhaps proper: I wanted to seize her, love her, and ensure she never left my life. I wanted to fiercely fight off nearby bucks who would seize her from me.

It's weird. I had said to Megan a long time ago, teasingly, that one of the things I enjoyed was going Bosky - a reference to a particularly apt primitive romancing from Holdstock's The Hollowing. In the tale (based on Jung's ideas), a man and a woman who have lost touch with their acculturation, regressing to ... mammals? It's hard to explain out of context. But at the core of the man's knowledge is that he desires the woman, and he romances her in a more primitive tribal way: song, physical decoration.

In retrospect, that's how I felt last night: a physical need for Heather. This relationship works on a lot of levels. I like that.

Life has been interesting lately. I find myself going through periods where I slough off the past, where I come into a differing interpretation than usual of past events. I've been slowly cleaning and reorganizing around my apartment - Heather called me a Shuffler - and in so doing found a lot of letters and notes from the past.

For one, I found some of the old WWU AS Reviews and Western Fronts which had articles involving me or editorials written by me during my time serving on the Student Board of Directors. It's still a little odd to have politics so neatly excised from my life, but at the same time I am calmly ecstatic never to have to deal with people of a Political Nature ever again.

And of course my thoughts on Western flow into my relationships with my sets of parents. I found a typical Dana card - a Christmas card from him addressed simply, "Much Love, Dana and Karen". And in my bedroom I have the lasting hallmark of my relationship with my biological father: a postcard from him containing the effusive prose, "Happy 23rd birthday! Dad".

I still don't understand that. I can't understand why you wouldn't just walk away from a situation you weren't wanted in, weren't needed in, and didn't want to be involved in. Instead I got fifteen years of pathetic human interaction.

Among the letters I also found an irate letter from my (real) parents telling me to make the most of "every day, every hour" (in response to one of the hardest times in my life as I was preparing to join the military) - such a stark contrast to the wasted two weekends a month I spent with Dana.

I remember being picked up by him, spending the first evening "locked" with him in the Queen Anne Tower Records bookstore. Then, after browsing there until they closed, we went to his apartment. There he would work and I would spend Saturday reading. He'd make us sandwiches on a particularly untasty wheat bread for lunch, then we'd return to our separate lives. And maybe we'd go out for pizza at night at the Olympia pizza house, maybe Dick's, and then we'd return again to our separate lives. He'd force me to church on Sunday, and then I'd happily count the hours until I was out of this nightmare.

I read a lot in those fifteen years. A lot of wasted time, a lot of distance from my friends and those I knew and that wot I cared about.

I think if I could change one thing about my life, it's that Dana would never have shown back up in it. He'd served his role in my life.

I've been thinking about talking to him lately, trying to understand what he was doing or thinking. Wondering if he has any explanation for the lessons in alienation he taught me.

A couple Sundays ago, I had some time and was planning on going over to Seattle to talk to him, since he still lives on Queen Anne. One of my flaws is that I think irrational people are secretly rational: I'd expect there'd be something he could say that would validate how he treated me. But... I know that's not true.

I've had a lot of thoughts going through my head. I've been deliberately silent for some time to allow things to percolate fully. I think I've generally thought a couple important things out now.

One thought that's come from my internal dialogue is that I don't think I can give an appeasing "maybe" anymore when people ask me if I believe in "God". The notions of "God" I usually hear are terribly anthropocentric. Regardless of that particular debate, I think we culturally use "God" as a justification. I don't like that, nor can I abide by it. We do so much damage to our world. When "America" is attacked, we quickly retreat behind "God Bless America". It's disgusting to me. The people of this world don't behave rationally, and I respect that. But let's not mystify our anger, responses, nor actions. Think about it. What does "God Bless America" really mean? Does it mean "We're the biggest kid on the block, and we'll get you!", "A terrible thing happened recently, and I am unsettled by it", or ... or what? I think "God" has succumbed to be mush in the mouths of most people, and simply plays into the escapist fantasies set up by our capitalistic society.

And for those who truly believe in "God"? I don't know. Heather supposedly does, and I don't really want to talk to her about the subject because then I would try to use logic to understand faith, which never works. And maybe that's the issue: the "God" as currently defined by most Judeo-Christian faiths isn't something logically tolerable.

I wonder what my life would have been like had I been raised without the stain of religion. A lot of my life has been heavily coloured by the philosophical underpinnings that religion provided me at an early age. I would have liked to have been raised in a world-friendly more holistic fashion: it's terrible to need to fight through your own misconceptions and warped views of the world on your path towards enlightenment. Especially when you notice a marked trend of those views to have caused you to do wrong by others. It's bothersome.

Oh well. I think I'm Better now, but that's a different entry.

Heather is going to her dad's wedding tomorrow. That would seem quite odd. I did go to my mother's second wedding, but that was when I was two. I'm sure I must have been at one of my dad's many weddings (3? 4?), but ... I don't recall any, really.

I want to be able to be there for her, but I'm not sure how. I gave her a quick sample of the mix CD I'm making for her - I'd tracked down a childhood favorite of hers [Shel Silverstein's "Ickle Pickle, Tickle Me"] - the other day. [I'd hoped to have it ready by now - I'd planned on giving it to her before my trip to Florida so that she would something new of me to play with - but alas I've tried to give this mix CD a lot of love, and it's taken months for certain pieces to come together.] I snuck into her car tonight to leave a little note, as well as infusing her tape deck with the hard-to-find Moxy Fruvous "Indie Tape". I don't know what if anything she needs from me right now, but I figure I should be there for her whimsically as well as emotionally and physically.

She seems to be taking it well. I don't know how I'd deal with either of my parents remarrying. They're both my parents, and it would always seem to me that any new partner would be that parental's bitch lover, not my "parent". Maybe that's one benefit I had when my mom married Dave when I was two - he always was my dad, so I've never needed or wanted anything more or different.

Maybe that's the reconciliation that she's made - her father is taking a Dating partner, not a new Mother for her. I think I can understand that, and as such I can see how it wouldn't be too disconcerting in the end view.

But... I'll still try to be there in whatever way she needs me, if she does.

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