fool me once

I took the long way out to Terre Haute and then north to Chicago last Saturday. The cd player was broken and I discovered that I know the words to six-out-of-every-ten songs that come on the radio (not three-out-of-five). Some songs I'd not heard in years. Top of my lungs.

Thursday: boyfriend was distracted and I felt frustrated.

Friday: felt frustrated and went out drinking; told the boy we'd talk during my drive.

Saturday: boy goes to cookout. He never mentioned cookout. Aparently he goes every year, though. I was dissapointed.

All we have are words on the telephone, and I asked him to please understand how much I need his words for our connection.

Sunday he talked me down through Indiana with a serious intention on making up for Thursday-Saturday.

We're the cutest in-love couple *ever*.

In Chicago I just nestled into a pub with my old friend and swapped stories.

Sunday morning I saw a lake, ate the pizza, and then saw Fahrenheit 9/11.

An excellent Fourth celebration.

The movie made me cry, and it made me feel sort of helpless.

Can Kerry make that much of a difference?

He'd at least be something different to listen to.

For the two hours Mike talked to me as I drove through northern/central Indiana there were constant fireworks all around me. It was serene and surreal and I loved it. He was sitting on his porch, and I could here fireworks in South Carolina as we spoke, and they were coupled with my visual-with-no-sound of fireworks in Indiana.

Last night I dreamed I miscarried twins, but then later had a healthy baby girl who fell asleep on my chest.

Yesterday I used the rental car to run some errands before it needed to be returned, then met with my boss. We did some work and then talked for *hours*.

I'm thinking that maybe when he considers who to take on full-time in a funded position in the fall, he might think fondly of the girl he can pass hours with in friendly conversation.

And I feel "done" writing now.