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September 23, 1998
a year ago

Cool Day

Simple evening last night, when we got home. It was surprisingly marvelous to change into sweats from the suit. Not that the suit was uncomfortable, but the simple slack of the cumfy clothes was very interesting. I used the last of the sweet peppers and cut mushrooms from Fezzik's party with the shaved beef to make sweet pepper and cheesesteak sandwiches that were really heavy on the veggies. It was really good. We watched the Mariners for a while, and eventhough they're completely out of the race, they're fun to watch and watch win. They're enjoyable.

Took Fezzik out for a walk, he was limping just a bit, but cheerful and wanted the walk. I wanted the walk. I haven't had much if any exercise for a long time, and it was good to just stretch the legs and walk in the cold, pitch black air. The stars were brilliant, and as I walked up one hill I was hit with the memory of walking Fezzik in the rain up that hill, while I was in my trenchcoat, with my oil skin hat, and Doc Martins and Fezzik was gleaming with droplets of silver from the streetlights and the rain dripped everywhere all around us. I half miss the rain, but know that it'll be around soon enough.

For now I'll enjoy the Indian Summer, and it looks like nothing but cool sunshine for the next week.

This morning, John and I drove separately, as I'm likely to go to a movie with him tonight. So to get us each off to our respective ways, we're driving ourselves. It gave me the additional chance of taking the morning at my own pace, and I got up before John woke up, before 7 a.m. and I did my knee exercises for a good forty minutes of heavy breathing, sweating, grunting, and high heart rates.

Life is about living, for me. I'm realizing. That may sound odd. Sex is about living, writing is about living, food is about living, music is about living, experiencing, feeling, doing, being, growing, learning, sometimes just breathing. For me, the sharing of experience is the sharing of life, to live doubly, triply, with the connection and the input from another life. That's what relationships are about, all the memories I've lost and then some, so I'm hungry for memories, for thought and experience and what people really are rather than what anyone would have them be. That there is as much life in pain as in sex, in joy as in angst, as in the steady physical labor of screwing screws into a deck as in the entirely imaginative exercise of gaming, as in the flight of a beautifully crafted car entirely under my control as in the body flinging extreme of high level soccer.

Perfection is a moment. Just a moment. I love the exercises, mindless, thoughtless, just the fighting of muscle and breath against gravity and weight. They eat my brain because I have to concentrate enough to keep count to keep the motions straight, right. So I can't think, can't form words, and I just do.

Peace in my head.

So I was pretty happy by the time I actually went to work. Got there around 9 a.m. and found bagels in the lunch room that John had brought earlier in the morning. Yum. Then a deep dive into code.

Yeesh. I thought I'd died and gone to Heaven.

A fresh cannister of the Makaibari Estate first flush Darjeeling, I opened the cannister, finally. So much time since I bought it, but the cannister kept it excellently fresh. The scent was amazing. I made myself a pot, just below a three minute steep time, as the stuff has a mild reputation for being a quick steep. I put just a touch of milk in it, and it was perfect. It was my perfect cup of tea. Fragrant, sweet, rich with the muscat tones, with a full body and light tannin to perk it up just a bit, nearly no aftertaste and with the milk it rounded out beautifully.

Indeed, the champagne of teas, grown the way I like it. Many of the Darjeelings have quite a lot of citrus to them, and while I do enjoy them, they're not as deeply satisfying for me. The citrus makes it feel just a touch off kilter in comparison to this.

Happiness. To be found in a cup of tea.

So, I've been chasing and killing bugs all day. Problem solving at its finest. Lots of bugs to squash, too, so it's been fun. Some of the oddities are in the complete separation of UI from model, which has introduced some interesting complexities as well as simplified other things. So it's interesting.

All in all, it's falling together nicely. Entire sections of problems falling to the wayside as we backfill the structure with solid code rather than possibilities. It's very cool. It's been really productive and really fun to code this hard and this right. Enjoyable even. What'd cool is that all the guys that use it are using it hard, wringing out problems and with the visibility, we can fix 'em. It's cool to have people that need what we're doing, giving it all the more urgency. 'I need to be needed.'

Anyway. It's been a cool day, and now I get to run off to see a movie. Hoorah!

The movie was Buffalo '66. I'm pretty sure I didn't like it. But there is, often, something to be said about movies that one doesn't like. It was, on the most part, extraordinarily painful, but the ending, and Christina Ricci's performance in it really did do something that was damned close to redemption, not only of the main character, but the movie itself.

I don't walk out on movies, I nearly always sit through them to see them through, to know them as a whole and figure out what they are. And in this case I was glad of the whole. I liked it with the ending, though if I'd left in the middle, I'm sure I would probably have hated it thoroughly. Too much emotional pain and emotional humiliation for me to ever actually like it. It reminded me, pretty thoroughly of why I don't usually go to art flicks. Sometimes everyday people depress me.

The cool part, though, is that there is some redemption in the movie, some relenting of the grinding emotional horror, which was, in fact, so terrible it was getting some people to laugh through much of the movie. And it ended with a choice that was made and carried out that changed things. That was cool enough that the rest was worth it. Good and solid enough that I didn't come out of the movie with a deep depression.

Another odd thing that helped was a guy sitting in front of us turning around and asking if I wanted to help sponsor him for the AIDS Walk on Saturday. He'd only gotten the form today, and basically had three days to get as many sponsors as possible. So I looked in my wallet, pulled all the cash but the twenty I'd decided to save for dinner and stuff and handed it over. He was pleased. I was pretty pleased, in part because it's always kinda fun to reinforce people asking for random kindnesses, and my knee was very pleased that I wasn't walking and someone else was going to for me.

Afterwards, we went to Pagliacci's again and I just had the cheese pizza and a root beer, and we talked for a very long while. That was good.

I was pleased to realize that my fears of being disliked by him had simply walked away, though. That was good.

I didn't get home until after 11 p.m. and John was up and waiting for me. We watched something for a little bit, and then went to bed.

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