baggage's Diaryland Diary

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Damn potholes

"If you want to hold your own hand going up that cliff

Or if you want to just hold back cause you ain't up to it

Go ahead

Be my guest

Go ahead"

Rilo Kiley

Disappoinment reared its ugly head again recently.

But, armed with a week's worth of perspective, I'm realizing that disappointment is temporary-and that, despite a bad personal choice on my part, this little case of disappointment a'int got shit on me.

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Mid-last year, I told a friend of mine that his drinking was turning him into a rather unlovely shade of asshole. My requirements for him? An apology and an admittance on his part that he has a problem.

Yesterday, he emailed me and said that he had been dry for 30 days. He'd like to talk.

How insanely wonderful be that?

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Work has been one big tightly-wound ball of yarn lately. But, it's over--this weekend being the first when I didn't have some insane deadline looming over my spirit like a thunderhead.

Damn career. I'm so lucky, but I still have the need to write the words "damn career."

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Pixelina is a lady that I share conversations with between Union Station and home. Most of our conversation centers around her escapades: nights out till 5 am, different guys, hooking up with whomever...it's odd. She's a nice person, but her words sit on my shoulders like a boulder, and I don't think she realizes that I find her social life less-than-ideal.

So, I lied.

I said I needed to use the restroom and sat in another car for some peace and quiet-and maybe some better conversation.

I actually like this person-but I think she's lost and I don't feel as if I posses the proper emotional map to light the way for her.

Is that wrong?

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My birthday was last weekend. But, it sucked because April 2 is one day after my mom's funeral. I'm taking a cue from my most lovely friend, Nictate (sorry too lame to link), and am having a birthday weekend recall. This weekend, I'm giving my birthday another chance.

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Speaking of Nictate, I really do love her. Her emails and birthday card light me up like a scented candle. Amiga, if you're reading this-know that I swoon at the thought of being friends with someone as witty, clever and wonderful as you.

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A new cat slinked into our lives last week. He's black and white and sleeps on my chest at night-right up against my face. His companionship is a wonder.

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The skies are gray and the weather cool-perfect weather for contemplating and another great friend-somone who'll be over in five minutes to help lighten the load. I'm a lucky kid.

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Girl-Unit has been a rock this past week-supplementing my lack of giddy with her own. Today, she's out with two of my friends from high school learning how to trim trees.

It's amazing now intertwined our lives have become in the past 17 or so years. What we share is much more than romantic love and I fail when searching for the words to describe it.

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Oh-and my band is playing a large festival next weekend. Little moments of giddy are cropping up everywhere. Spring must be near.

8:19 a.m. - 2004-04-10

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