( s p a c e

t o

b r e a t h e )
.
.
.

My favorite living poet is in love again--hooray for him! I notice that he's turning out more lovely haiku now. If that's what it takes, then lord, send him the girls. Send him all the girls.

---

Last night I went up to Davis to hang out with my HS friends Nat, DL, and Mike. Together we were our high school's "Outdoor Adventure Club"--basically, it was us and a few other friends who got to use school money and equipment to go camping and dune diving. It was fantastic. I forget how good it was, but hanging out with them again last night made me remember all the things I used to enjoy with them. I've become so indoors.

We went rock climbing last night at the Rocknasium in Davis. This is how different I was--I didn't think I wanted to gear up and climb. Isn't that sad? Why wouldn't I want to do that? At no time in my life should I ever not want to climb a few walls with old friends. Convoluted sentence, yet true. But I came around in the end. And it was fun. And that night, I felt comfortable and excited and shy with the people I was with. The dynamic with old friends is strange. We don't see each other that often, and so we are not closely involved with each others' lives--in that way, when we see each other, it's like meeting strangers. There are the dead-end 'so how's it going? what are you up to?' questions, and there are times when you don't know what to say. But automatically, you know you love them. And you have dear memories with them, and you hope that they remember, and you almost ask them if they do; but then they mention that-one-time, and you know you're still friends.

Code: I miss camping.
Translation: I miss you.

Maybe I'll start hanging out with them more. Davis is seeming now like it's not so far away.

5:43 p.m. 2004-05-19�

previous - next

P. L. Random H. M.�

about this diary - in case you have some sort of issue
miscellany
making wings
links
notes

older
contact
dland