It's been a long time since I've been active here (my last post was April 22, 2003 – I have no idea what it's about and because I love surprises, I won't look it up before posting this). I seem to remember causing as many headaches as smiles at e2. But the smiles were really, really nice. I've learned to like smiles more than headaches. This is common sense to everyone but people whose cranio-capillaries throb with such regularity that you can't think straight, making you see nothing but cracked synapses, white light, clenched fists, some type of medication good or bad. Bad medication creates headaches.

Updated status for The Curious –

I now live closer to the Pacific than the Atlantic. I'd link those names if I didn't think it'd insult your intelligence. I've become a published fiction writer, stories which earned me acceptance to a phenomenal MFA program at a private school, one of the nation's top 5 programs, IMHO. I found the acceptance letter in my mailbox one night when I was shitfaced drunk. I woke up on my couch thinking it was a dream, until I found the Guinness-stained letter on the floor. Still think it's a dream.

I'm still desperately in love. A near decade after meeting my SO I still look at her face in the quiet moments just before falling asleep, and feel so much emotion it quite literally hurts, like steam inside pushing against my chest cavity. I linked love because I'm curious what it says there. It may be the simplest, most common word without a satisfying definition. I hope it never has one. How many different words did the Greeks use for it? Bet that link tells you.

While we're on the topic of words, here's some beautiful trivia for you -

Eunoia is the shortest word in the English language that uses all five vowels. It means "beautiful thinking" and doesn't appear in the OED or most any other dictionaries. It's a word found mostly in obscure poems such as The Triumphs of Temper by William Hayley and is the title of a curious little book by avant-garde writer Christian Bok. Feel free to node this word. I don't have the time.
It's been tough adjusting to both this new coast and the new school's atmosphere. I'm doing exceedingly well both academically and creatively, but feel rather alienated. Sometimes I wonder if that's because I'm a white guy whose love made him strictly heterosexual, a categorical label so insulting for something as complex as human sexuality, but in my specific case I guess it works on a practical level. I only sleep with one person. She has a vagina, likes cosmetics, moves with feminine grace. Sometimes I think my classmates see me as the tyrannical enemy, the new Other (though they'd be appalled to hear it in those terms). It's sad. I stay quiet. I'm afraid. I feel like a man who likes other men circa 1950. Sometimes I think it'd be easier if I wasn't in love and enjoyed sucking cock, which I might. Never really tried it. Never really wanted to though.

What happens when the liberating revolutionaries become the new oppressor?

Anyway, I've rambled on long enough. I want to thank IWhoSawTheFace for his wonderfully random hello msg, which prompted this whole entry. He's always made me smile.