Just another Saturday. Writing in my journal, passively listening to Soul Train, drinking my coffee. I drink way too much coffee, but it gets me going after staying up until 3 last night.

Not a crazy evening, just a late one. Had some oysters at El Rio. A friend had been there since opening, and she was already completely wasted by 8. I had to hail a cab for her, since they put the bartender on infinite hold and he had customers.

Headed out to Red Rock later. Very good, live jazz every Friday night, and there's no cover. Hung out with a friend and talked about her mom. She's been ill for over a year, completely bed-ridden, almost unresponsive to everyone. I don't know what would be worse. My father died in four quick, horrible months, but I don't know what it would be like to have to care for someone day after day, with little chance of recovery. I guess after a while it's just a quality of life issue.

Anyway, my friend was in tears by the time we finished. From my understanding, it's just a long, slow-burn kind of pain and stress, and it's resolution will only make things worse. They've been advised that they can stop her feeding tube at any time, but they just can't make that decision. I saw the ending of Million Dollar Baby this morning, and I wondered if I would ever be able to perform a mercy killling like that.

Yesterday was also the one-year anniversary of my break-up with V last year. I placed a reminder in my electronic calendar, so it kind of suprised me the other day. However, there were other signs that the anniversary was near. While running the other day, I felt the coming signs of spring - the slight increase in temperature, especially on those days when the sun could actually break through the clouds. I also noticed the poppies starting to bloom along the path I ran. It's funny how life goes on, and how season creep along in subtle, beautiful ways.

Sure, a year, 365 days, is an arbitrary measurement of time, but I felt some obligation to reflect on its meaning. What had changed, what hadn't, if the sadness I felt for a long time after the break up was worthy of the love I had felt before things went to shit. I think some of the many reasons why this relationship really affected me was the decisions I made, or was willing to make at that time, even when I didn't recognize I had made them.

I mean, read the dozens of older entries in this diary, and you would think I'd be the last person who would be albe to "settle down" and be perfectly comfortable driving a little girl to her friend's birthday party, have dinner with her and her mom, and watch a family film together. But that was something we did, and once I was willing to try it out, I suddenly got kicked out the door as my reward.

Well, maybe it happened, and now I'm off the hook, and can make new choices. Perhaps I wasn't meant to be a soccer dad, and that's actually cool with me. I'm just too strange for that life. It was like a peek at another reality I missed along the way, and now I can continue to find my own destiny.

I think it's going to be a good day.

music:

night life:

sex life: