November 24, 1998.

Today is a day full of birthdays. My mom turns 45, my ex-boyfriend's mom turns 38, and Spider Robinson turns 50. I wish I could've been in better spirits for my mom, but I've been pretty cranky lately, what with the funeral & all. I'm scheduled to begin menstruating tomorrow, so I hope that some of my bad temper will likewise drain away. (I know, poor use of metaphor. Shut up.)

But of course, most of my anxiety is embodied in an inscrutable person who never calls me anymore. I am absolutely miserable, and getting worse as the week wears on. I'm being pulled apart by the antimony: I need to talk to the Boy, but if I don't give him space I could lose him forever. Hence the crankiness. I'm currently in the habit of calling at all times of day, then hanging up on the answering machine's outgoing message. Just like a hungry dieter, I've made up ridiculous rules for myself - if he doesn't answer, then I didn't call. In this way, I'm not crowding him out.

Fuck, I don't know how much longer I can do this.

Last night Dirk, Agamemnon & I went drinking at Sneaky Dees. Agamemnon was being characteristically charming (but he's also characteristically offensive, so this was nice). Upon consultation, we discovered that the minister who conducted my uncle's funeral on Sunday also did Agamemnon's grandmother's funeral. As he's a divinity student soon to be ordained, I felt it meant something that he called her sermons "kick ass." We had the nicest chat, but Dirk was being sarcastic & trying to change the subject, which pissed me off no end.

Overall, Dirk was being something of a jerk. Something indefinable rubbed me the wrong way. Maybe it was that he hasn't returned my phone calls since Wednesday. Maybe it's that his recent vacation from celibacy has made him prone to an irritating smugness. Or maybe I'm just fucking cranky. I very rarely get mad at Dirk, but I started kicking him last night as we left the Cave. Repeatedly.

I hope the problem is with me, because I change so quickly. It would be a shame if it was Dirk...and if it was permanent.

Stacy came & chatted. She refused to drink as she's still recovering from a staff party last week after which she took a header into the steps leading into her home. She's pretty grown up & stuff now, so this is a rare occurrence & not horrendously amusing. Agamemnon & I made up for her abstinence, though. We definitely shared one pitcher too many, as I had the worst hangover since New Year's this morning. (Huddled in bed with a box of Vegetable Thins for an hour before I could face a bath.) Dancing at the Cave was cool as always, although nobody tried to pick me up this week...and I was dressed up, so it made me wonder.

Went home still drunk, cried a bit & tried to open up the telepathic link between the Boy & I, but no soap. Went to bed as lonely as I've ever been. But we'll see if I can top that watermark tonight, hmm?

"I gave my love a locket, and then I broke her heart."

- tom waits

This afternoon I hung out with my mom & various relatives. I've discovered that I don't want to be touched anymore. I wasn't raised to be a hugger, but my adolescence & university friends (especially Paris) have decidedly cured me of my WASPish affectation for distance. But there was so much hugging at the funeral home...I spent 2 days being embraced by loved ones and virtual strangers, so much so that I feel rubbed smooth & insensate. The last thing I kissed was a corpse. Touch has ceased to interest me.

I wonder if I would push away the Boy? Not that I'll get the chance. On the whole, I think he's the only person I want touching me right now, maybe because he won't anymore. God.