Hey there. You still love me?

I'm all excited because I saw devon's journal listed in the "just updated" list. That's exciting, right? I mean, I knew she'd updated, but there's lots and lots of members, and it's a very short list. I guess I'm just a sucker for a name in print.

Also, I'm indescribably happy because this computer room seat that I've just sat in is warm. Warm with somebody else's e-mail checking or paper-writing or whathaveyou.

Lemme talk about yesterday.

~

I can't explain why, but reading devon's survey yesterday morning made me sad in the oddest way ever. I went somewhere, inside my head, and stood on the beach on Sullivan's Island, and said, "You don't get it. I am not the good guy."

On the way to my assignment moose, I found a tape that Lyndsay had made a year or years ago. It had the Whoville Christmas Song on it, which is somber and familiar. It was raining, which is also.

Typical session with Heidi. I told stories that didn't have anything to do with anything, recited a poem, stared at my hands, pretended to leer at her. Four o'clock came, and she turned the video camera off and was talking about scheduling next week's meeting, when I burst into tears.

And, I dunno, you know me. Ale-breakdown isn't exactly unprecedented, but it's bizzare. Don't want y'all to think I'm going soft or nothin.

I cried for an hour, babbling incoherently and shaking my head, for no reason at all. Heidi didn't say anything, and I didn't say anything real. Five o'clock rolled around, and I finally cowboyed up.

I went to the bathroom. I actually looked pretty good. Intense. I think that's a look that'd work for me-- tear-streaked and glaring. Make a note.

I was all drained, so there was no way I was going to the dojo after that-- which I felt badly about. I kept thinking, what are you gonna do? You gonna go home? And do what? Who you gonna talk to? No one. No one to talk to. Tired of reading, tired of eating. Gonna drive forever. Got homework to do. What are you gonna do?

It was still raining.

Got to this new car, right, this smooth white one, and had left my lights on. Wouldn't start. Sat in the car waiting for maybe it to charge back up. Didn't.

Eventually got out and asked this guy for a jump, which he gave me. Pulled out of the parking lot-- when I got the traffic light, it died. I was in the middle lane of traffic, and I didn't even have enough power to put on my blinkers so the cars, whizzing past me on either side, in the rain, could see me. Couldn't open the car doors to get out. Kinda sat there, thinking, well, you'd been thinking about death and glorious sod-all-else . . I'll be honest. I was still having this big emotional event, so I may have sniffled. A little.

Eventually, this big truck stopped behind me, and this old guy in fatigues knocked on my window. And, y'know. I may have been sniffling. He asked if I needed help, I said yeah. He told me to put the car in neutral, that he was gonna push it into the turning lane of traffic, so that we could get to the gas station that was just on the corner.

-- I think some other guys stopped, too, and helped push.

I mean, look. You can steer the car, and you can push the car, but you can't do both at the same time. I *did* need help.

We got to the gas station, I got out of the car and thanked him. He said-- no problem, me and my wife were driving by, and I said to her, that's probably a girl, we need to stop and help.

I didn't say anything. I was still, y'know. Having this emotional thing. Completely un-stranded-in-the-rain-related. I thanked him again. I think I even said, god bless you.

Ai.

I went into the gas station and got another guy to give me a jump. This time, I let the car sit for a while before I tried to go anywhere in it. Sat for twenty minutes-- but as soon as I tried to reverse, to get out of the parking lot, it died again. I thought, well, okay.

I had six quarters on me. Used two to call my house and see if my father was there-- he wasn't. Used another two to call White's house-- she wasn't home, either. Used my last two to call my Aunt Debbie, who was home, and she called my Uncle Kent, who lives in Knoxville.

When I went back into the gas station to wait, the clerk offered me some hot chocolate, which I accepted, and I said god bless you again. I found a caramel in my pocket which I had stolen from geologists the day before-- and I had my Brown Fairytale book with me, so I read the story about the rats who tried to marry their daughter to the sun.

Uncle Kent showed up with LeAnn, who he met on the Internet. He jumped my car, and this time it took, because my Uncle Kent is magic. We drove to LeAnn's house, and they fed me chilli, which I ate with cheese and crackers. MmmMMM.

I was cold and wet and exhausted, but I made it home, safe and sound, before ten. I signed on the computer and talked to Lise for a little while. She asked me how I felt, and I told her that I felt very, very calm.

Through all that, I decided on a name for this new troublesome creature. Spike. His name is Spike.

I didn't do my Italian homework.

~

Which is why I'm skipping class now. Because, hey, Dustin says not to worry because it doesn't matter, and I trust Dustin.

And today, I'm going to see Devon. I actually don't know what I'm going to say or do, because I've still got this weird emotional something going on, so it's probably going to be bizarre. And before that, I have to write a simple, one-page paper about . . let's see, about the different individual voices within Joseph Conrad's Heart of Darkness, which I did not read. That's due in two and a half hours.

You still with me? You still love me?

A'ight. Love you.

Alestar
***
I been trained and blamed and rearranged--
and life ain't any better or worse.