Here are some letters. Just two, short ones.

Me to J:

It rolls along, but it's not so much rockin'. Not sure quite why I feel that way, but that's just how it is. These drawings pretty much run the gamut of my recent experience:

http://www.explodingdog.com/drawonpaper/10142004/

They're not my drawings, no. They're explodingdog's drawings, which I like.
Whhhf. I still kinda feel like I just woke up. True, it wasn't that long ago.
So I'm watching B's and Eileen's cats for them while they drive their motor home back across the US of A. It broke down on the east side when they were on their way to Burning Man, and they rented a car to continue. You know B, right? Crazy wiry little black guy, high school friend of Alex's? Funny guy. He once told me that I was his backup should anything ever happen to Eileen (god forbid).

Classes are good. I got A's on my first round of midterms, if that's the way to measure it. I have been tempted into being a research geneticist because it's so interesting, but then, nah. It's interestING, but in class I'm not captivated, and it always feels like I'm struggling with a new language. I'll do what I'm good at, thank you, none of this death or glory business. But I'm deciding to start subscribing to a science magazine, because I always want to know what's happening on the edges. It's SO interesting!

So, I've decided that I'd like to move out of the Bay Area once I'm done with Mills. That's another couple years, ie May 2006, andyet I need to start preparing for the eventuality. Maybe I'll go straight to grad school, in which case I'd hopefully be going to LA. But in any case, I've lined up my top choices for self-exportation: Portland; LA (oddly enough); New Zealand/Australia; Victoria, BC; Boston. Those are places I may end up. I'd either find a job or grad school. Finally identifying the wish to move made me feel--more free. Which I like.

So, let me tell you what happened to you, and the choice you must make. You went to a club, and you saw this girl. You were like, wow. Wow. She went into the middle of the crowd and started dancing, and wasn't dancing with anybody. Like a magnet--a powerful, rare-earth magnet--you made an arrow for her, tossing all considerations of not doing that out the window. You put your hand on her shoulder, she turned around and smiled. You put your hand out to shake hers and introduce yourself, and she takes your hand and holds it tight, smiling bigger. Wow. She then lifts her hand and turns you into a spin (use your imagination), and hey, you're partner dancing! Wow, this couldn't have turned out better! She's great! You dance for a couple songs, exchange names (hers is Nathan and yours is Delphi) and she says, "I need to go to the bathroom. But I'm going to look for you." She had the best way of holding your hand. She smelled great. You feel like you just won the world. You're smiling and going, wow.
She finds you, like she said she would. You tell her that hey, you kinda like her. She says, "Honestly, I should tell you, I came here with a guy. But I haven't seen him in like, twenty minutes." You sort of shrug it off--she didn't say boyfriend, and she did come back to find you. Oh, by the way, as you were dancing, she told you you were beautiful. So.
She introduces you to her friend the club bouncer, Reynaldo. Apparently, they know each other well. Your best friend Alex walks up with his girlfriend HK, and you're all hanging out. She (Nathan) is just awesome. Your friends like her. Her friends are funny. She's just the cutest thing you've ever seen.
Now, the weird thing is, sometimes she'll be all aloof and wander off, and so you think the boy she came with must be watching. So you leave her be. But she comes back to you, and dances. And then she wanders off, and once when you approach, she definitely Doesn't Know You. So that's weird, and your confidence falters.
She comes over, charms you and your friends again, and her bouncer friend is making jokes with you. Then she doesn't know you. Then it's time to go, and you don't see her at all, and you really want to see her again. It's one of those things, you know--you like her A Lot, Already. But your friend Alex is badly drunk (don't worry, his girlfriend's driving), so you kind of have to help take care of him. And you don't see the girl. And you don't see the girl all the way to the car, and all the way home.
But you still want to see her again! You think, maybe if I'm back next week I could give my number to Reynaldo the bouncer, and he'll give it to her. But then you think, is it worth it, would it be weird, should I let it go? And you think, I really liked her.
What are you going to do, Johannes? Are you gonna take the bull by the horns, or let sad fortune take its course? Tell me.

I'm reading a book by Neal Stephenson, who is an author I very much like. It is one of his newest, called The Confusion. It's historical fiction, if you like that sort of thing.

So that's all I got. Hope you like the "existential dilemma" which I have provided you.

Delphi

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Note on the above: I rephrased the she and he's because J is a guy. So that he'd experience the story as I did.

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J to me:

Since I'm at work and in the middle of [this big cool thing I'm working on] and really busy, here's a quick note:

If I don't go back to that club and either give my number to raynaldo or get nathan's number from raynaldo, you are gonna fly out here and smack me so hard that your hand is gonna ache for weeks.
this guy either A) knows what he's doing, and thus is both awesome and a fatty pimp, or B) doesn't know what he's doing and is an awesome person but a coward with women.

It is worth your time to go to great lengths to find this out.

love,
J
PS and let me know how it goes

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Good old Johannes.
So here's a funny thing about this diary - it happens to be an either/or proposition. Either I write this diary, or I write substantive letters to my friends. Working through it in writing is working through it in writing, y'know? I hate telling stories over. So, as you may have noticed, if I've emailed someone about something, I'm just gonna copy you the emails. This may be odd for them if they discover that our correspondence is on the internet, but, well, hey. I'm lazy. What.

The cats are gone, and I've cleaned house a bit. It makes me happy. I hope any cat I adopt is a smart one. I often forget that there are dumb cats, but believe me, they exist. One of the pair was dumb, the other smart, and I'm sorry to say, it was obvious I had a favorite.

AaronB and I are back to business as usual, of which I am glad. Random rambling phone calls and rides home. It's good to be alive, it's good to have good friends.

And I'm starting to send poems out as submissions to literary journals. Maybe I'll plan something special for my fiftieth rejection letter. Or my first acceptance. Whichever comes first. I remember long ago, when McSweeney's accepted two of my pieces practically in a row. Just little things for the website, not like I was in the quarterly or anything. But I remember thinking, after I got my first acceptance, that I needed it to happen a second time. "If you can't do it twice, you can't do it at all." The immortal words of Ender Wiggin. And then it happened twice. So that's my rock, when it comes to putting my work out there. I did it twice.

I'm way past a year on this diary. I'm probably close to or past 1000. Hmm. Time just passes that way. New Years is only worth mentioning because of the parties.

2:07 a.m. 2004-10-19�