Just some updates

Life feels not bad at the moment. Even if I haven't resolved some issues with some people, at least it's begun. Momentum, of any sort, is better than inertia.

Still looking for just the right hammer.

I'm realizing that there are payoffs for trusting my initial impressions. Like it or not,you're a part of... the litter? the pride? the pantheon? Something like that, anyway.

Pretty well down with not applying gender to others, and it's a little liberating. Now, for the harder part: me.

Being able to be nice to people is one of the best things.

I live with the most amazing, prettiest wielder of debilitating smiles in the world. And with five spoiled, fuzzy little bastards.

Looks like I'm Chattanooga bound this Saturday. Someone promised me some drinks, and we're all out of booze here in Atlanta.

B minus 5

The first time I ever spoke to her almost didn't happen. It was almost four years ago to the day, at a birthday party for the aforementioned associate, held at the incredibly cool apartment of some guy I know. I had taken up residence on the stairs, quietly nursing my fourth or fifth cider, having settled in to watch everyone. No amount of coaching or cajoling could get me to talk to this pale, shimmery, animated person, but oh, yeah, was I sure of where she was at any given time. Unfortunately, I had been told she was dating someone, but apparently my eyes didn't get the message.

At some point in the evening, I noticed the associate and this vision of loveliness talking, and looking my way. No sooner did I see that than the associate beckoned me over; etiquette demanded that I answer the call, and in retrospect, I'm very glad I did. I was introduced, and finally, that dazzling smile turned on me; I was almost at a loss for words. Luckily, the cider came to my rescue, and who knows what sort of nonsense flowed out of my mouth. I can't remember how long we talked, or about what; it seemed both quite a long time, and no time at all. At some point, I excused myself, and wandered away, only to sidle up to her later in the evening and strike up yet another conversation. While I make no claims to wit or humor, I tried like hell that night; the smile and laugh were quite the payoff. Then, alas, her stubby, weatherbeaten date decided it was time they went home. Still, it didn't feel as crushing as it might have. Besides, I had realized at some point in the conversation that I passed her neighborhood every day I drove to work; you can bet that I noted that while driving (surely a precursor of benign stalking to come).