“Your job’s secure,” Ben said, as he was walking me to the Fugue’s back door. “So you don’t have to worry about that.”
“Thanks,” I told him. “You know, I love this place and I really love helping out.”
“You fit in pretty well here.”
“Yeah, I really feel like I do.”
After pausing to unlock the door, he told me, “Well, you’re home now.”
This, from the man whose conversation once intimidated me because of his concise mannerism–what Alec would describe as his tendency to avoid smalltalk unless you were “in” and then answer you in as few syllables as possible. It was a trait I’d mistook for “cold” or “abrasive.”
Taken aback, the only thing I could think of saying was, “I guess I am, aren’t I?”
In hindsight, it seemed like an ironic echo to Alec’s favorite Evangelion quote, a quote that he’d frequently recount as he began his work at the Fugue:
“I’m home.”
“Welcome home, Shinji.”
December 10, 2006, around 3am?
Sara called me tonight. Drunk dialed. During the afternoon, I’d left her an AIM message that her “sad face” away messages were making me concerned. And she called me at 2:25am to tell me quite excitedly–the excessively ecstatic, word-slurring drunk kind of excited–that she was doing better and that she got her orange belt in taekwondo, yay.
“You’re drunk, aren’t you?”
Continue reading ‘And another backlogged post.’
The first of a couple backlog posts that I’m publishing for you. Happy Holidays.
—
(Started 12/03 5am)
I miss being naïve. Specifically, I miss being overwhelmed by new thought and new emotions. There’s a sweet sensation that comes upon you at those times–”holy shit” would be the easiest way to put it into words.
On a futile hunt online and on my computer for a collection of short stories an old online friend of mine had written, I came across a PDF of scanned notebook pages of my own…
Continue reading ‘Hopeful, Yet Hopeless’
