Dec. 29th, 2001

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After a hellishly long day, in which a customer tried to sell us this software that he obviously stole and then tried to steal it back, several of my coworkers went down to Showdown. In the morning I had vowed not to go out, but I decided since the football game was epic I wouldn't get anything done at home anyways.

This morning it's bright and clear, the weather I need.
threeplusfire: (fine)
This time we will not be denied. I have tickets for the 10:15 Lord of the Rings. I dearly wish some of the people I've gotten to know here on Livejournal could go with me.

The sun sets outside, and I've been driving up and down Mopac in a tank top and my furry hat, smoking and speeding and thinking. At this time of year I tend to drive more, find certain streets. To dream, to remember.

Reading back over my posts from this time last year earlier today, I wondered if I was more innocent then. Even then. I miss Christian. We perhaps should have been honest with each other from the beginning, and fallen in love. Things would be very different. I almost hope he comes back from Spain and finds me again. Things with Patrick are so different now. I do not stay up late in the bathtub writing desperate letters and crying. Still tears, but for quite different reasons now. We both have changed and I can not help but feel this sense of loss, slipping away in the stream.

Strange to feel so many things one might term regret. Things done and undone, moments of time in the crossroads. Always one to construct a thousand worlds in the space of a sentence, I can not help but wonder what we would have been.

I drove past my high school, the one I didn't graduate from but left behind with a lot of my dreams. Much bigger now, but it looks the same anyways. I do not miss it. Only the few people, the moments where I grew. I miss John, Kevin, Casey, Luke, Derek, and all the others lurking in the journalism room. I miss Doc, who was something of a Navigator for me, the hand who pushed me forward and perhaps the best teacher I ever had.

My story frustrates me because I am in the middle, and that is a place I am rarely in myself. But I have plans, because I am about to step into the middle.

At least, the packages are speeding off in the mail. Eatings oranges and fudge, thinking that making candy is almost as demanding as making potions. Specific and exact, this art. An elf looks at me from my computer screen, and I feel like indulging myself in obsessions and some of those lost teenage years. I found my old Guns N Roses poster collection, and I'm going to hang one on my wall. Sweet Child Of Mine was on the radio, and I still know every word.

In my mailbox, a card from this girl who knows so many interesting things. She started on the right side of the card too, wiser than I. Heh. Thank you. I want you to come to Texas one day and see the sky and Barton Springs.

My mother gave me simple rings for Christmas, silver with flowers, butterflies and hearts etched round the bands. Already they feel a part of me, even when not on my hands. I've never had jewelry that felt this way. Strange, but comforting.

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