sick and happy
His writing style is astounding. I mean, it's a journal and therefore unedited, but I read a lot of journals and I'm loving the way he presents stories and portrays himself.
Secondly, I really feel connected to the person that he has layed down on these pages. He half expected me to run screaming, he said, but it takes a LOT for me to consider a person a psychopath.
Hell, I actually prefer someone who can dig crazy.
Matthew knows what I'm talking about: we get along so well because we're both NOTDORK and never have to explain what the fuck that means.
I talked to Nathanael and he said he's living on the same Island where mom is, and is hoping to land a resort job doing valet parking. I'm proud of him.
Then I talked to mom: Tello got his Greencard yesterday!! I'm so happy for him.
"I've been dating somebody, mom..." I began.
"Just don't take it too seriously. I've got to run now," was her not altogether unexpected response. I wish I could tell her all about him, but she's not ready. It stresses her out to feel like she has to worry about me, and it's difficult for her to get all involved about the goings-on between me and some guy.. and then to have to process they "why" of when he leaves.
I mean, of course it's harder for me to deal with, but I guess I can spare my mom the misery of being hyper-involved in my personal life.
Then I talked to Muriah, with whom I can be explicit. I told her how wonderful Mike was with offering me insight into his past, and in appreciating me more after reading my journal.
The sickness got worser... but my boy arrived as soon as I left school to retrieve me and drive me to deliverance: soup.
Brave New Deli has the best home-made soups and I got a nice bowl of chicken-noodle and a half bagel with cream cheese and roast beef and sprouts. Don't knock it.
Then I watched the Braves' season opener until the 3rd inning when I realized my boys would not win. Mike isn't baseball so I relinquished the tv and went to bed.
At around 8:30.
Mike was not in a cuddly/chatty mood last night, but here's what I love about him:
When he doesn't feel like being his normal stoopid romantic he doesn't then also remove himself from me. You know how some people can be in quiet moods and they completely withdraw their affection? Here's a for-instance:
After I'd been laying on his bed for an hour I awoke and decided to smoke a cigarette and check my voicemail. When I returned to his bed he had turned down the covers and put some pajamas on the pillow. No words passed between us: we both felt a little shitty. But the kindness didn't dissapear.
When he came to bed he couldn't let go of me, though. And this morning. Just an embrace, too.
The new Modest Mouse cd is one of the most fabulous albums I've heard in a while. I'm in love with it, as would have been expected, and haven't stopped listening to it since it arrived Monday night.
Matth and I discussed it yesterday, and I hate to sound as though I could be copying him, but since we have different fans I'll say: Isaac Brock invoked the spirit of Tom Waits in this really perfect way that sort of makes my thighs quiver.
