August 3, 1998
There's one song that Raven (Hi, Raven!) played for me, especially off the Karma CD by Delerium, it was Silence. Raven said that, for some reason, that song reminded him of me, deeply. I could, in some ways, see why. Both Pat and I agreed that it was likely the song of a Falling angel, possibly an Elohim, the balanced choir who feels all the emotions of all the other choirs, but cannot act on emotion. They must always act on logic. When they break, or Fall, it's usually through a breakdown of emotional intensity.
There was once a day when I would have believed that I was of that choir.
I have tasted the rage and the white noise of my own emotions.
Got called today, in the middle of the day, by Mark, mostly just checking in to tell me that he was okay, that he'd survived the flight and was at Microsoft and meeting with folks in a while and that we'd arrainge getting together later. His work was going to be done around Thursday at noon and he'd call later to figure out exactly how to coordinate the pick-up and getting him to the house.
I hadn't expected his voice to floor me the way it did. It's been three years since I've actually spoken to him, and it just left me shaking quietly. Bryant talked with me for a while about it all, and it was easier to just shut Mark out of my life completely, to refuse to be touched by him, to not be affected by him. Much eaiser. But it probably indicates that I've healed somewhat from whatever it was that sliced me to ribbons before, that made it imperative that I feel nothing around him.
Now I'm afraid I might feel too much.
The whole conversation was deliberate, casual, half self-mocking and half just chat and quick communication. I can keep it there. I just don't know if it's the right thing to do or if that even really matters.
The rest of the day was just filled with work and getting updated for my journal. Hands hurt, so I've been trying to do more with the voice recognition than with straight typing. It hasn't been hard to swap over, and I even got the straight voice commands working in vi again.
Lots of stuff to do and get done, and finally looked up again and it was past 6 p.m. and we had to get home pretty quick so that John could get home in time to talk over soccer coaching with Dave K.. We had a box of shaved beef from Trader Joe's, and so I decided to try it with caramellized onions.
One of the pet peeves I have about the West Coast is that there are no really, really great cheese-steak sandwich places around here. None. And the ones that try do just a pale and sad imitation of the East Coast sandwiches and they would be utterly laughable by Philly standards. It just hurts to see a cheesesteak ruined by neglect and lack of true love for the art form.
So I got to do it myself. The only mistake was in the 'bun' as I had none. There was only an old loaf of Italian bread, so I just sliced it up accordingly, toasted it some, and then stuffed it with meat and onions and crumbled cheese. I have to admit I used a high quality aged, sharp cheddar instead of the anonymous 'white' cheese that most cheese steaks have, as I didn't really have any of the latter. It turned out great, though, hot and juicy and tender and marvelous. Okay, I no longer have to long for the cheesesteaks of the East. Yum.
Spent the rest of the evening writing up the weekend using Dragon Dictate. John eventually finished with Dave, and got swallowed up by the Bandicoot. He played until about 1 a.m., when I really had to get to sleep, as he had an 8 a.m. appointment with the dentist. And if I was going to get up for that... it turned out, as he finally came to bed, that he decided we'd just drive ourselves in the morning, so he could do the early thing and I could just sleep in if I wished. Good enough for me.
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