I've been sitting back here in the office for the last half hour, looking at old pictures. You think that I'm mad at you. That's not really true. Sure, we had a little fight tonight, and that's all it was. It wasn't even a real fight, we got indignant at each other, that's all it was. Compared to the way that some other couples are at each other's throats, I think our average of one fight a year is doing pretty well.

I suppose that the truth is much easier to type out than to say, so I'll do it this way. Mostly because trying to form sentences and say them is so much harder than forming the words when you're not around to hear them. I get all choked up and feel silly, and then resort to telling you that it's no big deal and that I'll be just fine when I get a good night's sleep. And, hell, for all I know maybe that's the case today.

However, dear, the thing is that I'm really lonely and homesick. I know that it's such a pathetic thing to be homesick at twenty-five, as a rather down-to-earth coworker pointed out to me today. But if there's one thing that you must know about me is that it's not so much the home as an emotion that I miss, but rather the home as a location I miss more than anything. I love living with you out here in your home, and being with you is more joy than I knew was possible. However, at times such as these, I want nothing more in the world than to be in the hills and the valley and feel truly connected with something. Perhaps I would feel better if the last two visits home we've made weren't clouded with death.

In actuality, it is mostly my fault for feeling this way. I never really imbedded myself in this city the way that I know you hoped I would. Besides you and your friends, I never really made an effort to make anything resembling an attachment to people and places out here. I have been trying, and I have found parts of this city that I truly love. It must be the hick part of me that makes me want to return to those places I've spent a majority of my life struggling so hard to escape from.

This must seem like a very large detachment from the fight we were having earlier tonight, but it's been on my mind since we were at my brother's house on Sunday, looking at pictures and talking about babies. Now I've got that picture of my father as the background on the laptop, and the more I look at that picture, the more my father looks like me. Then we fight and I turn into a walking train wreck and tell you I'd rather be left alone, and none of those things were right. I'm sorry about being such a prick.

I'm just going crazy inside and can't find the words, and I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.

GRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!

Sorry about that, but these past two days have been really, really fucking shitty. Remember kids, double and triple check that you are actually enrolled in college, and that you do indeed have classes. Because if you don't, you'll feel like you're bent over with a very large horse looking at you in a very strange way.

I apologize for that lovely image, but I found out yesterday that I never enrolled in classes. I'm a dumbass, I know. So, in trying to straighten all this out, I'm ending up with 2, maybe 3 classes that I can take, which of course means a heavy load next semster. Only one class is going to be an actual class involving a classroom. The other class and the maybe are going to be online courses, which I'm fine with if I can do the one thing I haven't been able to do for 22 years now, motivate myself to work.

But that's another issue entirely. My day today consisted of waking up ass early, going to UMass Lowell ass early, and finding out that the head of the department can't help me in anyway, always a great way to start out your morning. So I drive 30 miles to my Dad's office to borrow his credit card, as I am a broke motherfucker with no money of my own. I get the card and drive the 30 miles back only to find, no parking. Yeap, that's right UMass Lowell has a shitload of students and parking for about 2/3rds of them, if that. After spending 40 minutes trying to find a parking space, with no avail, I drove to a tertiary lot to find the spot I so desperately needed.

There was no spot. As I was leaving the lot, I noticed a street across the way, with a car parked on the side of the road and room behind it. Knowing that I would be in the building for at most 20 minutes, I crossed the street and parked. As soon as I exited the car, a thin, white man, about 24 years old with bad facial hair and large baggy clothing starts yelling at me, "You can't park there."

"I'll be here for 20 minutes, tops," I yell back to him.

"I'll call the fucking cops! They'll give you a ticket!"

"I don't care, I'll be gone before they show up," a statement I wasn't so sure of.

"You'll come back to four fucking slashed tires!"

I didn't believe him. "Then I'll kick your fucking ass!" A master of diplomacy I am not.

I took off, one hand holding up my shorts, as I dashed across the street and into the building, up the stairs to the second floor. I looked in the office of the teacher I needed to talk to and she wasn't there, no luck. I headed back out to my car to leave.

Of course this person, bitter because I was trying to get into college, something I'm sure he would never do, wouldn't let me leave quietly. "You wanna kick my ass, let's go, fuck, come on, bring it, come over here and kick my ass."

I should've learned from my elementary school experiences not to say "I'm gonna kick your ass" to anyone, because then they want their ass kicked. They beg for it, "Oh please kick my ass. My aura is out of alignment and I need you to rectify it with a swift shot of your foot to my nuts. Please beat me so I realize my place." After much yelling, name calling, and various descriptions of sexual acts I squeeled my car out of the space it had inhabited and headed home, to where I am now.

What have I learned today? Never tell someone you're gonna kick their ass, because you don't know what the white trash that watches MTV all day has under his hideously yellow T-shirt. Never park improperly so you don't have to deal with A) The Cops and 2) Morons. Also, ALWAYS SIGN UP FOR CLASSES ON TIME, then check, and double check to make sure you have them.

I bought a car today.

My SO and I awoke early. Lox bagel with coffee was our fuel for the morning. Off to the auto mall we go.

SO’s car was totaled not to long ago. Do not worry, the car was hit while it was parked. This is best way of totaling your car. Actually the car was hit the night before we were scheduled to fly to Cozumel for some well deserved relaxation and some diving on the Palancar.

Today we move on!

We looked at all of the popular varieties of car-gone-truck or in the more popular nomenclature, SUV. It was hit and miss trying to find a vehicle that could actually hold it’s own while crossing the snowy summit into Truckee.

The Honda CRV could be best described as a weak, clunky box that couldn’t pull a sled out of a snowy ditch.

The Toyota Rav4 could only be described as an over-priced pile of cheap parts with a very mushy ride.

The Jeep Liberty was powerful, beautiful and sucks gasoline like a Sherman tank.

We settled on the extremely functional, reliable and cute vehicle that is the Subaru Forester. The more time that we spend in this vehicle, the more we feel satisfied with our choice of vehicle.

If you need a ride, I will take you there! Never hesitate to use the butt-warmers.

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A friend once advised me thusly:

I still urge you strongly to develop a little thicker skin in two directions. Don't be so hurt by seemingly unfeeling words or actions … but don't go orbital by kindnesses either.
Good advice, though I can't say I've totally adopted it. Despite the affectionate treatment afforded me almost every day by Edward, the solitary nature of my life still has me depressed much of the time. When my cynic's view of much of mankind is temporarily interrupted by somebody — a stranger or even somone not very close — unexpectedly being very nice, thoughtful, or generous, it can still take me a while to get over it and resume my taciturn disposition.

I went to yoga practice at three o'clock this afternoon. Afterwards, back at the office, six o'clock rolled around and into my mailbox popped a message from one of my yoga teachers. In addition to the friendly interaction with Edward today, and a nice /msg from dannye, this coming out of the blue really put a nice cap on the day. Could anyone have a better teacher, of yoga or anything else, than this? Here is the message.

C,

Here's a note for you — oh, and by the way we read your Ashtanga, NY review, and liked it — on several occasions I have heard you mention coming 4 days per week. Well, what about getting regular with three days per week first, for 2 or 3 weeks, and then bumping it up to 4 days. That seems more approachable.

Also you mentioned in the review that you aspire to be doing full primary some day. Well, the more you come the more realistic that sounds. And as a side note: it is not easy for any of us to practice every day, and hence the transformation comes…

All in all, you are admirable for your efforts, and we'd be super blessed to keep seeing you period.

D

In case you're interested, my attendance at my yoga sessions is rather irregular. I go pretty much every Sunday, and usually one or two days during the week. Once I've managed four times in one week, and once I had a two-week lapse. What I need is to get the discipline working…

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