Ahh, woke up late today, needed sleep :{), sleep good :{). Went to the bank, needed money :{)), money good :{). Ate p'n'j wichs for breakfast,err, brunch, I feel much better now. Later in the afternoon, I got to hang out with some friends I don't see often.

News 9/11/1999

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Yesterday,Tomorrow

Twice a year, the Families Learning Together homeschooling group in North Carolina has a weekend gathering at a camp. This was the second day (first full day) of the 1999 Fall Gathering.

Looking at this writeup, however,I can't quite remember this day. Hot dogs for lunch? At FLT? Unusual. Pizza for supper? That does sound familiar, though also unusual. What an odd day.


Legacy Writeup from Everything 1

Got up. Went to the gym. Played basketball. Ate lunch. (hot dogs and some stuff I didn't try) Etc.
Played CTF (My team lost, darn it!) and then watched other people swim.
Supper was okayish pizza and some other stuff.

Back,More
Sept. 10,Sept. 12
Saw Tori Amos in concert at the New World Music Theater in Tinley Park, IL in a Chicago suburb.

Was disappointed because the set was shorter for the 5 1/2 Weeks Tour and she didn't talk as much. The venue was poor, and too many jerks around me smoking. Gave me such a headache that I didn't stay to see Alanis Morissette. Did get a t-shirt and a Venus Envy necklace.

She had a cruel face and was standing in the doorway of a dance club, or maybe a bar. I was walking down the sidewalk. In the few moments I observed her, she exhaled a small breath of smoke and said "No" to an unseen figure. Then she was behind me, out of my life, and I was left to wonder what she had experienced to earn such a cruel face. It seemed the perfect face for saying "No" to people. What was she denying? Had long years of rejecting others brought with it the cruelty she wore with such practiced ease? Seeing her under other circumstances, you would think her unremarkable. And perhaps she is. But the image of her in the doorway remains with me, and if I see her again, I will compliment her and see if her face will permit a smile. I cannot imagine her smiling, not a genuine smile. Her smile would be reserved, complicated, would not allow the viewer any chance to misinterpret it as warm. If I could make her genuinely smile, then I'd know that my life hadn't been wasted, and that happiness is never altogether lost, but merely misplaced or forgotten.

I write this a few hours after the event took place, and it still has a poignancy which surprises me. I am about to sleep. I know I'll never see her again. And if I did, I know things would not work out as they do in my head. Reality seldom concedes to my demands. But I hope to dream of her. I hope I can achieve the catharsis in sleep that I cannot when awake. I hope her smile is radiant.

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