Depressed. And I'm quite tired of being depressed. There's no reason for me to be depressed. No logical reason, anyway. I'm insane, that's obvious. I have great friends. What's left of my family, my sister, brother, nephews and niece, et al, are wonderful. I'm with a great guy who cares about me and shows it, and I love him. I have a job most people would love to have. I own my house. I make enough to live comfortably. I have luxury items, including the computer I'm using to write this blog. Yet half an hour ago I was sobbing uncontrollably for no damned reason.

On the way home from work today I passed under a bridge on the way to the Interstate. I was in my warm car (that I own) and I looked over and saw several people huddled under blankets under the bridge. And older guy with a full gray beard and blankets pulled up to his chin saw me looking, saw pity in my eyes, and he smiled weakly at me. But I was not crying for those people. I should have been, sure. I was crying cause I'm fucking depressed. I feel lonely, even though there is no reason to feel lonely. I have people who care about me, people I care about. Still I feel lonely and alone, and I can't stop feeling that way.

Is some of this nicotine withdrawl? Maybe. I don't know. I should get rid of my animals, my dog and two cats ... but I can't. I can't because they are the only ones who are always there. I can't even imagine not having the dog to talk to, hell, even just to yell at.

I need meds, but meds don't even work. What I really need is marijuana. It's the only thing that really works. It's the only thing that evens me out, makes me halfway sensible. And sometimes it doesn't even work. Anti-depressants just make me apathetic. Emotionally flatlined. Gray. That's no better than being depressed. Hell, that is being depressed. Depression isn't all about sadness. They also take away your sex drive. They take away your everything drive. On anti-depressants, desire doesn't exist. Didn't for me anyway. It's just numbness, which is just as bad as the feeling I was trying to get rid of.

I don't talk about this stuff a lot. I hint at it sometimes, but I don't go in depth. There are two reasons for this. 1) I don't want sympathy. I don't want anyone to feel bad for me. That's not why I blog. That's not why I share. 2) I don't want important people in my life to think that they are somehow causing this, or that they can somehow prevent it. You aren't, and you can't. I know I am loved by friends and family. I know I am cared for a lot. There is nothing you can do, nothing you should be doing that you aren't. This isn't about what I am or am not getting from my friends and family. This is about chemical imbalances, or ... psychological imbalances within myself that are beyond my and everyone elses control.

I want it to stop. I want to feel normal again ... I hope I can.

Today the trainer gave us "practice" sheets. Ten pages, over 100 questions. My god, is it possible to bore me more? It made me remember high school. I looked at the sheets and thought, "Fuck these." I don't need practice. I'm ready for the final. Give it to me now, I'll score 100%. I don't need to look the same stuff up under different accounts 20 different times. We have two days to do the sheets. So, I picked at them, time at a standstill. I'd do a question, sit back and stare at the window, do another, twiddle my thumbs. I still got nine out of ten pages done.

Back in high school, I just wouldn't have done it. I'd have tossed it aside, picked up the latest Stephen King novel, and read til the day was out. This is how someone who tests with a genius IQ coasts through High School with a high C average. BOREDOM. There were people in the class enjoying these sheets. People who were challenged by them. OMG. These are not challenging. We have an online database at our fingertips. You simply type in a few keywords and pow, there's your answer. Why does this take practice? I suppose it does help to know how to use Boolean search terms, but still. Other questions just want you to look up an account and read a bit of information off a certain line and write what it says. Oh, so hard.

I am so ready for class to be over. I won't even learn how to do the job I was hired to do until I get out of class. What a waste of time. I feel bad about feeling that way. It's not the trainer's fault that class sucks. This is the curriculum he's supposed to teach. They could squeeze this all into a three week class, there is no need to stretch it out for six weeks. If people in the class can't keep up, then maybe they aren't smart enough to do the job. I do feel he's too nice to the dumb people and gives them too much help. If they can't get it like everyone else, then they should just be written off as failures. Let them fail the tests, don't give them extra time to complete them. Don't coach them on the answers. Ugh, okay, that's all.

Training class is driving me positively insane. I don't like changes in my routine unless I make them. I hate not being in control. Case in point, lunch is supposed to be at 12:30. That was decided by vote weeks ago. 12:30 gets here, and the trainer says we're going to keep going for a bit. NO. NO, DAMMIT, NO. And there's nothing I can do but start rocking back and forth in my chair, OCD alarms blaring, muttering to myself silently in my head, "Lunch at 12:30, definitely at 12:30. Lunch now. I should be at lunch now. Lunch at 12:30, it's past 12:30, definitely past 12:30." I need to eat, I need to smoke, I need private time. I need to get away. Nothing in the day is more important than lunch! Whatever is being talked about, drop it now, lunch now, we'll pick it up later. It's review anyway, I know this stuff, can I just cut out now? I wish this were like college where I could opt to only show up for the tests and if I passed then I passed. There's so much monotony, so much repetition. Hearing the same stuff over and over and over and over and over again is making me lose my mind. And what's worse? What's absolutely dreadful? Hearing someone else in class say, "Wait, what was that?" ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? We've been over the same shit 20 times.

What a frustrating day. Training was repetitive as the regular trainer came back and had to reteach everything we went over yesterday because nobody in class understood the material. So, we spent the entire day doing everything we did yesterday, except with explanation this time. So, now we're right back where we should have been on Wednesday of last week. Fuck.

My first check went into my bank account to cover the deficit that was left there by an unauthorized transaction that happened back in August, and now I'm having problems getting my account functional again. I have no debit card because they canceled mine, they have holds on the account, etc. On lunch, I thought I had it taken care of, used seven precious minutes of my pre-paid cell phone, but no, I wasted them on nothing because nothing has been taken care of. Another hour on the phone with the bank when I got home, and still no resolution. I have to go into the bank again tomorrow on my lunch break to try to get this shit straightened out, get a new debit card sent to me, etc.

I'm feeling very emotionally fucked today. I feel alone in a crowd. I have a lump in my throat and I don't know why ... I just want to curl up in a ball and stop existing for a little while.

Sunday, Jay and I went out, did lunch, two movies, and a quick dinner. On the way to lunch, we got pulled over in Danville for doing 45 in a 30. There's really no reason for that stretch of road to be 30 mph. When you do the speed limit on that road, it feels like you're just idling. But, also, the sticker on Jay's license plate was expired. He had the new one and when the cop asked for the registration, Jay started looking for it. He leaned into the back seat, ruffled through the items back there: a pair of blue snakeskin high heeled shoes, a cowboy hat, a pink boa, a pair of underwear, I believe, but no registration. Eventually, the cop came back and just issued a warning ... possibly terrified by the mixture of things in the back seat.

We continued to the restaurant for lunch. El Rodeo, Mexican. Mmmm. In the restroom, I saw some clever vandalism. Someone had scratched the "C" off of the "Baby Changing Station" That got a good chuckle out of me. And then it was off to see "The Fourth Kind", which was really good. Keeping with the theme of documentary-style horror, we also had "Paranormal Activity" on the agenda, but it didn't start for another hour and a half after the first movie ended, and we had some other stuff to get done. Jay needed some supplies for a craft he's making for a photo shoot, so we needed to go get that stuff. On the way from the theater to the store, we pulled up behind a truck at a stoplight and we found ourselves face to face with a dead deer. Jay took that picture of it that I linked, and as his phone was trying to auto focus, the driver and passenger both gave the thumbs up. The light took forever to change. The deer stared us down, eyes glazed over, tongue dried up and hanging out of the side of its mouth. It lay there in its forever sleep, eyes open and glazed over, engaged in a staring contest it couldn't lose. Finally the light changed and we followed it into the strip mall parking lot. There was really only one place they could have been going. I know they weren't going to Barnes and Noble. Call me prejudiced, but I don't imagine guys who drive around with dead deer in the backs of their trucks with the tailgate down do much reading. I don't think they were going to Marshalls, or to Jo-Ann Fabrics like we were. They HAD to be going to Dick's Sporting Goods. Had to. But I don't know for sure, because Jo-Ann Fabrics is at the opposite end of the strip mall from Dick's, and that's the way we turned. All I know is that the truck went in the direction of Dick's.

Jay got the supplies he needed ... well, maybe, there seems to be some design confusion. But anyway, then we went to Marshalls. I did not realize how cool that store is. They have some awesome clothes in there. And we saw this box, just the right size for writing instruments. The lid of the box had an array of miscellaneous writing tools represented, stacked haphazardly, all part of the lid, and all the same color as the rest of the box, a dull silver color. On the side of the box, a quote: "The writer must write what he has to say, not speak it. - Ernest Hemingway" It is totally awesome, and totally me. And Jay ... well, he said, "You absolutely have to have this," and he picked it up. And he bought it for me. He is completely wonderful, and sweet. And as much as I liked that box when it was on the store shelf, I like it even more now.

After that we stopped at Target for some snacks to sneak into the movie with us. No, we didn't sneak ourselves into the movie, just the snacks. "Paranormal Activity" was a dud, and after the movie we went to Wendy's. There was a woman in front of us in line demanding to speak with the manager, with whom she was already speaking, complaining that they wouldn't take her coupon for a free Frosty. The manager was trying to explain to her that they are independently owned and are not one of the "participating locations" but the woman wouldn't take no for an answer. She told the manager he would have to tell her child that he couldn't have the ice cream even though the coupon said, "Free Frosty" on it. She neglected to mention that the child should also be aware that the coupon said, "Valid only at participating locations" at which she was not. The manager just looked at her, said nothing, so she looked at her own child and explained to him that he couldn't have the ice cream because they wouldn't take the coupon. As I was staring at this scene, flabbergasted, I missed what was going on behind me, but the other guy behind the counter set a frosty down for the child, who was about five, and explained to the manager and the lady that someone else in the restaurant had offered to pay for the frosty for the boy. The woman took the frosty and her coupon and left the restaurant without thanking the man who paid for her son's ice cream with her head held high and threatening to call Channel Six News about the incident. I certainly hope she did not get the impression that any of us were impressed with her shenanigans. I feel for that poor child, who will endure much embarrassment at the hands of his mother for the rest of his life. She did not thank the man. She did not say, "no, no, I'll pay for my son's frosty." She did not give the man her free frosty coupon, or even offer it. She did not leave without the frosty and announce that on principal, she no longer wanted and and would go purchase a Dairy Queen Blizzard for her son. No. She was a tool, over ninety-seven cents, which is what the man paid for her frosty.

But, crazy lady aside, I enjoyed my dinner, and Jay and I spent the bulk of it talking about the strange scene that had unfolded in front of us. And then we topped the day off with two more episodes of Buffy, season 2. It was a very good day, and the first outing that Jay and I can actually call a proper date. I had a really good time.

I have not been blogging as much as I would like. This has created a blog vacuum, and so I write this blog to eliminate that vacuum. If there is nothing, and you add something, nothing ceases to exist. One reason I have not been blogging: I have been busy. Not overly busy, I guess. I'm sure I could fit blogs in here and there, but I feel like I have so much to do. This is my last week of freedom. I start work next week. Ugh. I hate work. But, a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do. It's a brand new day. I have three more weekdays to be free before I have to join the ranks of the working again. I'm dreading having to go to work every day, but I'm looking very forward to the paychecks, and actually being able to afford things and get my past bills caught up. Yes, the money part will be good. Jobs suck. They all do, but this one will at least give me benefits, paid days off, and enough money to live off of. The work itself will be monotonous and boring, but I can deal with monotonous and boring ... what I can't deal with is helping 80 year old women get on the Internet. "Click on 'My Computer'" "I don't have that." "It's on your desktop, it should be in the upper right hand corner." "I don't see it." Sweet fuck, open your eyes, Granny, read the screen, you have Windows XP I guarantee you 'My Computer' is on your fucking desktop. And there I sit with a bloody handful of my own hair and I've bitten clean through my bottom lip as I speak sugary sweet to the old lady and pretend I'm not frustrated. I'm a good actor, but I simply don't want to put that much into my performances anymore. Ugh. So glad I 'm done with that.

Another reason I haven't been blogging a lot is because I'm happy. There is currently no conflict in my life. I'm happy, content, I feel great. I could just blog every day about how good things are right now, but that would get very boring very quickly for the reader. Sure, not everything is great, I haven't been meeting my writing goals, so that's not cool. I hurt my back today which is going to put a stop to my upper body workouts, which I love to do. No, I wasn't doing an upper body workout when I hurt my back, I was twisting in an unnatural way to retrieve something from my storage room and I think I pulled something around my left shoulder blade. So that's not very pleasant. I keep planning on getting more cleaning done, and never seem to make much headway. Okay, so, I guess there is some conflict. But overall, big picture, life is really great right now.

The blog has been quiet for a while now. That's not because I haven't felt like writing, and it's not because I had nothing to say. I had plenty to say, plenty I wanted to say, a hell of a lot to talk about. But I couldn't post any of it in a public forum until I explained a few things to the people closest to me. That has been done now.

What a long, strange trip it's been. If someone had approached me six months ago and tried to tell me where I would be today, what I would be doing, how I would be feeling, I would have laughed in their face and told them to go take their meds.

If you've been keeping up on my blog, you know the story up to a point. If you haven't been keeping up on my blogs, why not? Stop now, go read them all, then come back. I'll pick up where I left off. I'll skip over the cooking, cleaning, home repairs, those were filler blogs because I couldn't talk about what was on my mind. I left off at the point where I decided to let go of the feelings I was holding onto concerning Heather. After a month of holding on to them and at the same time trying to get over her because I knew she probably was not staying, and that nothing I did would change her mind, actually letting go was fairly easy, because most of the work had been done. I did go through the grieving process again, but acceptance came easier this time. Heather and I kind of easily slid into a very comfortable platonic relationship, not like the tense, forced stressful interaction we had been experiencing. Once I truly let go, truly accepted that it was over, done with, once and for all, it was easy to immediately let her back in as a friend. I wasn't sure I would be able to do that. I thought I might harbor some resentment for her, but I didn't, which was surprising.

Throughout all of this, from the beginning, my friends have been there for me. All of my friends supported me every step of the way, gave me advice, made me feel better, and Jay was one of those friends. He was very supportive during the whole process of my breakup with Heather. I've known Jay for ten years, but after Heather broke up with me, I started spending a lot more time with him. And I liked spending time with him a great deal. Then, after I was completely over Heather romantically and had accepted that she and I are just really good friends, and kind of realized that's all we really have been for some time before she ever broke up with me, and I had decided logically and rationally that I needed some time to stay single, something began to happen.

Jay and I have always had a really good connection. We've always considered each other great friends even though we really never spent a whole lot of time together. There was always just this connection there that was kind of inexplicable. For instance, our lives have seemed to run parallel courses. When I was meeting Heather online and moving to Cleveland, he met someone at the very same time and moved to ... Columbus. Both met someone, uprooted our lives, and moved to Ohio. That's the largest example, but there were all kinds of little things. If I was going through something difficult, I could almost bet money on the fact that Jay was, too.

I spent more time with all of my friends after Heather and I ended. Some of them live too far away for me to afford gas on my budget, but those friends talked to me online and on the phone a great deal. But in spending more time with Jay, I began to notice a shift in how I felt about him. I began to really look forward to seeing him, and when I did see him, I didn't want to leave. I think I always knew, somewhere deep down, that there was something more there. I think that's one of the reasons I never made it a point to try to spend more time with him when I was in a relationship.

I've always known I was bisexual. I've known that since I knew what sex was. I was pretty young when I learned what sex was. I didn't experience it at a young age, but I was well aware of what it was. For a very long time, I fought with myself internally concerning my attraction to guys. My attraction to women I was comfortable with, that was normal, every guy had that, but my attraction to guys would ostracize me, people don't accept that, it's not "normal", or so they say. So I kept it a secret, and I tried to deny it to myself. During the more spiritual moments in my life, I would beg God to take it away. But you know what happened? He didn't. I would beg him to help me to get rid of it. He didn't. I tried to wish it away, push it away, for years I tried. But you know what? It's still there. At some point I realized, if God didn't want this to be a part of me, first, he wouldn't have made it a part of me, and second, he would have taken it away when I asked him to, begged him to. He, at the very least would have helped me to repress it and keep it there. But he didn't. Because it's part of who I am, part of who I am supposed to be, and there is nothing wrong with it no matter how many times you quote the bible out of context and twist its meaning. Bottom line, the bible doesn't say that being gay is wrong. I know. I was very concerned. I studied it. The passages that do make it appear that homosexuality is wrong have been largely mistranslated from the original text. Men wrote the bible. Inspired by God, yes, but not written by Him. It was written by men, translated and retranslated and retranslated by men. If you believe that the bible says homosexuality is wrong, then you also must believe that if your son misbehaves, you should take him to town hall and let your neighbors stone him to death. Cause that's also in the bible (Deuteronomy 21:18-21). So, my point? Don't tell me that my feelings I can't help feeling because I was born with them are wrong unless you are willing to let your neighbors stone your son to death. K?

So, where was I? Ah, yes. Jay. I began to realize that I liked Jay a bit more than you should like your friends. I once again had something that was secret, that I couldn't talk about. I wrote a few cryptic blogs concerning different paths available to me and not knowing what I wanted anymore, but then I just quit writing even those, because there was no point. I was sure that my feelings were one-sided, so I was just going to keep them to myself and try to work through them, if I could. Then, at some point, I decided I couldn't do that, and I had to tell him no matter the outcome. I mostly expected him to tell me about our ten year friendship that he didn't want to risk losing. Also, I still wasn't absolutely positive that I would be able to be with a guy. I kind of pictured being with a guy would be just like being friends coupled with a committed sexual relationship. I didn't think that having romantic feelings for another guy was possible for me. My interest in men had always been purely physical.

As it turns out, I didn't get the chance to tell Jay that I was a little too happy to see him when we hung out. I had told him, as I had told everyone, that I felt that I was finally completely over Heather, and that I was in a place where I thought I was going to start dating again. Apparently, he was feeling the same way about me as I was about him ... because things kind of took off without me having to say anything about it. And then I realized ... it was not only possible for me to develop romantic feelings for a guy, but it was happening, had happened, and when I think back on our friendship, started happening a long time ago. When I think back, I was always just a little too happy to see an email from Jay, or a request to hang out. I never analyzed it or thought much about it, but ... yeah. If I want to be honest with myself, I've been crushing on Jay for a very very long time.

At first, he and I had talked about just rolling with it, staying friends, seeing where it went. I had just gotten out of a six year relationship, and I had to make sure that this was not just me running to the first person who looked at me. But I knew it wasn't. I knew there was something deeper there with Jay. Besides, logically, I had decided to stay single, I wanted to stay single. I wasn't looking for someone to run to. I was prepared to be looked at, to be wanted, I was prepared to date without commitment. But, then Jay happened. :) Jay, who I had wanted for so long without even realizing it. Next thing I knew I had made up my mind to tell my family and friends that I was bi, had always been bi, and was getting involved with a guy who was a good friend of mine. And a few days after I made up my mind to do it, it was done. I told everyone. Jay never asked me to do that. In fact, he wanted to make sure I didn't think it was something he expected of me. And I didn't think that he required that. I wanted to do that because Jay was making me very happy when I was with him, and when I emailed him, and when I talked to him in any way, and I can't hide my happiness, or its cause, from my friends and family.

It didn't take us long to decide that, yes, we are together, officially. And I am happy. I am extremely happy. And he's happy, which makes me even happier, because I like seeing him happy. I like knowing that I have helped to make him happy.

Obviously, I have much more to say about all of this. But these are the basics, and I will stop here for now.

Well, that was just lovely. All of a sudden all the power went out in the neighborhood. But that's quite alright, power company, it's not like I have anything to actually DO today or anything. Sigh. Bastards.

I've been extremely nostalgic today. I've been looking up songs I liked as a kid, songs that were old when I first heard them, and posting them to facebook. I posted a couple, and I was listening to them, and I realized, hmm, this might not look good. First I posted Goodbye Cruel World, a song by James Darin from 1961. Then I posted Seasons In The Sun by Terry Jacks from 1974, the year I was born. Seasons In The Sun is a song about a guy saying goodbye to all the people in his life before he dies. Some lyrics are, "Goodbye my friend it's hard to die. When all the birds are singing in the sky. Now that the spring is in the air, pretty girls are everywhere, think of me and I'll be there. We had joy, we had fun, we had seasons in the sun, but the hills that we climbed were just seasons out of time."

Just wanted to say, I'm not trying to cryptically say anything here. I have no plans of leaving this "cruel world" or of dying in any way. I'm just waxing nostalgic, and, apparently, my tastes in music when I was younger were morbidly sad. Hmm, that makes sense. My taste in music is still morbid, and sometimes sad. Right now, I'm listening to an old song that is neither sad nor morbid, but silly, my other favorite kind. I Love Onions by Susan Christie from 1966. I'm pretty sure I first heard that one on the Dr. Demento Show. I refused to miss the Dr. Demento Show. I had to listen to it every week, and I kept a blank tape in the deck to record any song I didn't already have. That show familiarized me with odd favorites from the 1920s up to the then modern day, the 1980s.

I listened to a very eclectic mix of music as a child, and I believe that really helped to shape my musical tastes today. It's probably one of the major reasons I get ill when I listen to cookie cutter radio too much. Everything sounds the same, everyone knows the songs. I like to listen to music that is original and creative and just plain different. Most of the stuff I really like best will rarely result in someone coming up and saying, "Oh, I love this song!" and start singing along with it. It's more likely I'll get, "What the fuck are you listening to?" But that's the music I enjoy, and that's the way I like it. I Love Onions is over, and now I am listening to Move Your Dead Bones by Dr. Re-Animator. I first heard this song this morning in a trailer for an LBP (Low Budget Pictures) film called Terror At Bloodfart Lake, but it was pointed out to me that this song originated as an extra on the DVD Beyond Reanimator the third film in the Reanimator trilogy. So, Come On, Reanimate your feet!

I also enjoy the vocal styling of Leonard Nimoy. Yes, the guy who played Spock in Star Trek. He has several albums, but the most famous song of his floating around the Internet is The Ballad of Bilbo Baggins.

Of course, when I was a kid, I did listen to mainstream radio as well, and I still do, but I'm very glad I rounded it out the sounds I exposed myself to, and that I continue to seek out the underground, the strange, and the unusual. I love all the old 80's songs that everyone knows, but my absolute favorite mainstream radio song from the 80's barely broke the top ten on the Billboard chart, never reached higher than number 8, and maintained that spot for all of a week, I think, before it dropped back down the chart. I was eight years old when I transcribed and memorized all the words to my very first favorite song, You Can Do Magic by America. There was another video of this song on youtube that I found that wasn't live, the description said it was "High Quality" I listened to it, and I listened to the one I linked. The "High Quality" version is tinny and all wrong. The one I linked was recorded off vinyl. The sound of a song being played from the original vinyl is something that cannot be matched. The vinyl version is not the best recording, and I had to turn my speakers up a little to hear it well, but it is still better than the "remastered" one or whatever the hell it is. In the same year, 1982, another "magical" song hit the charts and raced to number one. While I enjoyed this other song, it couldn't hold a candle to my favorite. Sorry, but Abra Abra cadabra just didn't reach out and grab me.

I had fun today. Went and saw Capitalism, the new Michael Moore documentary with my friend Tony and then we went to eat at a small little Mexican place. One of the really real ones, tiny little place with things like tongue and octopus on the menu. I don't order that stuff, I got a chicken quesadilla. The chips were hand made, and they whipped up Tony's guacamole after he ordered it. Talk about fresh. That was NOT scooped out of a can.

I like having emotions again, even though I really can't watch anything without tearing up at some point if there is any humanity in it at all. I teared up like three times during the movie. I admit this because I like it. I like feeling. I went so long without feeling anything at all, I really enjoy being able to care again. It also gave me a lot to think about. I read a lot about politics, I have for years, so there really was no new information in the movie for me. But Michael Moore sure knows how to put the ideas together into a cohesive package. For the past year or so I've been trying to figure out if I'm a total socialist, or if I just like some aspects of socialism. I think this movie brought me one step closer to possibly admitting that I might just be socialist. Now, for those of you who think "socialism" is a dirty word, let me tell you, socialism has nothing to do with democracy. It is not one or the other. It is very possible to have a good socialist government and maintain the same level of democracy we have, and I dare say, even make things more democratic. People tend to confuse socialism with communism, and they are NOT the same thing. Put quite simply, if you are one of the 98% of Americans who are not ridiculously filthy rich, it would be good for you. And about those billionaires? Fuck them. Fuck them all. "But, but but, they earned their money!" Did they? No, they lied, cheated and stole it from the rest of us. Period. And even if they had "earned" it, nobody needs that much, especially when there are children starving in the streets. Anyway, enough soapboxing, I'll step down. MM does it better than me, go see his film.

The Mexican place was nice. Small, but nice. We had a very cute waitress. She caught me looking at her chest and smiled at me. Yeah, yeah, I know, she wanted a good tip. lol. It was still nice. And it was nice when she came outside after we had gotten in the car and started dancing around on the sidewalk and shaking her butt around. Nice after dinner show.

We picked the right day to hang out, because when I got there his Internet had gone out, and we managed to get that back online, so that was cool. He probably thinks I feel like I was put to work, but actually, I was glad to help and I had fun helping to figure things out. I like a good technical problem that needs solving, as long as when all is said and done the problem is solved.

Ya know, sometimes I hate being a Gemini. It's been fine, having someone to bounce ideas off of, someone to help make decisions. How the hell do Geminis make decisions on their own? My mind changes from day to day. My opinions change from day to day. Not drastically, just ... ugh. I need to get a job. I have far too much free time. I can't remember the last time I wanted to work. But I do now, I want to work. I know I want that. And I want to finish my novel and I want to get published.

And I know I want to try out being single. It's been so long since I was single, 14 years, and back then I hated it and didn't want to be single. I was single by circumstance, not by choice. Well, again it is by circumstance, but remaining that way will be by choice. And I want it now. I want to spend some time single. How much time, I don't know. I just want to be free. I want to have fun and be free and be able to do whatever I want without having to explain my actions to anyone. But how do you even willfully stay single if you meet someone you really want to be with? Life is full of risks. You risk realizing later, "Oh, that's who I want to be with!" But guess what? Too late, they've found someone else and moved on now. Now they are happy and you can't stop thinking about them and you could have had them before. But I think that's a risk I'm going to have to take. Because even if there is someone wonderful right off the bat, I really need to experience being single. I am not a promiscuous person, and I don't plan to be, either. That's just not me. Maybe for a while there, a couple of weeks ago, I thought that might have sounded appealing, but it really doesn't. I have never been the type of person to jump into the sack with a stranger, and I'm certainly not going to start now.

But, choices, that was my point. Damn Gemini making choices. I'll be faced with all these choices when it comes to relationships and whatnot, and at some point I'll have to choose one while forsaking any other current choice or future choice. When it comes to relationships, at least the way I think of them, choosing one eliminates the others. Ugh. Oh well, I don't even have to think about this right now. This stuff is down the road. Right now, I'm single. And I'm going to have fun with that.