Sunday, June 16, 2002
It was only after three bottles of champagne and eighteen episodes of Sex in the City with Dave, Damen, Pope, and Veronica, that I was able to call it a productive day. Pope had to leave halfway through the viewing, but the rest of us managed to sit through the entire season without stopping, ordering Chinese take-out for dinner and sipping Mimosas. It was the perfect, slow Saturday.
Instead of heading out with the girls for a night at the bars, I took my leave to get a head start on sleep for the big Father's Day plans today. Steve stayed Friday with his 3-year-old Dalmatian and we would be lucky to have gotten two hours of shut-eye. My body is going into automatic pilot every few minutes, indicating its disapproval of my late hours.
Pondering relationships and neuroses over my drive home, a conversation with Cale came to mind in which we discussed video games and how one learns certain techniques, commands, characters, and story lines for a game. Once the game has been finished, everything learned is basically moot.
Looking back on my past relationships, I see certain things I learned for each individual—Jeff's diet requirements, putting a towel in the shower for Chris, "safe" phone lingo with Kurt, sexual idiosyncrasies, etc.—and wonder if that has been equally pointless in the end.
On another note, it is a wonderful feeling to come home to your own place, your own space.
Et Cetera
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