Saturday couldn’t have been a better day (despite the Grand Tour of Granby Street and the momentary panic when I thought that I had left my wallet in Kelly’s) and today has been one of those perfect lazy Sundays with little to do but watch old episodes of Buffy and a new episode of Sex and the City. Fun. Oh, and I found out there is a Lush in Bahrain, so hopefully my sweetie will send me a package when he’s not busy keeping the world safe for democracy and George W.
Actually, it hasn’t been a perfect Sunday because despite a bunch of phone calls and invites to do things, I’ve been feeling this odd sense of loneliness. I’ve been trying to stay so busy the past couple of weeks, I really haven’t let myself feel lonely. But it’s there. I have spent the better part of my life thinking I’m an introvert, when my introvertedness has more to do with circumstances and the nature of being a writer and less to do with my actual personality. I like to be around people, whether it’s one or ten, whether I’m the center of attention or not. I like to talk (probably too much), but that’s not even necessary. Sometimes, just having someone sitting next to me on the couch watching the same movie I am is enough to make me feel content. So, I’m battling the urge to get dressed and go out somewhere, anywhere, just to be around people.
The thing is, I could have gone out today but decided not to. I wanted a little down time to catch up on stuff around here and I didn’t want to leave the house. I probably could have invited friends over to keep me company, at least for a little while, but I didn’t do that either. I guess I needed to be by myself in some weird way. Sometimes it’s harder to be around people for a little while and then be alone than it is to just be alone for the whole day. And sometimes there is only one person who can make the loneliness go away and there is no substitute.
I’m not so melancholy as this sounds, truly. I just wish I wasn’t alone tonight.
at 08:55 PM 
Granby St. sucks! And do you know someone at work tried to tell me that Grandy is a straight street and that there isn’t a turn? So, I got out the map. And once I figured out how to use/read it, I proved him wrong. I don’t know much when it comes to directions, but I do know (NOW!) that Granby is one fucking long road that turns when it should dead-end at the cemetary. Norfolk sucks! Who, in their right mind, lets a steet end and then renames it to the right and gives the left another name. People are just trying to fuck with the already directionaly challenged. And I don’t like it.
Comment by Jae-the Driver. on Monday, January 12, 2004 I am usually very good with directions. Really I am. But when you get in a car with these two there is a triangle effect that takes all sense of direction and drains it from you. I will try to get stronger so that next time we can be on time. I apologize that I couldn’t do it this time and I promise to get better. But Jae, what’s up with the language? Inhale Exhale Inhale Exhale. Feel better now?
Comment by Nick-the Passenger on Thursday, January 15, 2004 Fuck off Nick, you commie bastard.
Call me. We’ll have you and your wife over for dinner. I’m sure you’ll be able to find the place.
Comment by Jae on Monday, January 19, 2004 What language?
Comment by Jae on Monday, January 19, 2004 
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