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Just Catching Up before/after FONT> I wonder if its neurotic that I never worry. About anything. So where was I?� Oh, yes, out with Lydia, if memory serves, to go to the bar with my brother and my despicable future sister-in-law. We went downtown and swilled some drinks at a rebel bar establishment called 'Tin Lizzies'. I call it 'rebel' because its 'Michigan State University' and 'Detroit Red Wings' bar, in Denver which is anything but those two fabled institutions so beloved in my life. Watched the game, and my despicable future sister-in-law zeroed right in on Lydia, and worked her all night. Pumped her for information, tried to form her opinion.� Normally, I never think of such things.� The types of girls I'm attracted to will never fall prey to something like that. They will change the subject.� They will go on tangents and rants.� They will give up nothing. Nope.� Not Lydia.� It has become apparent that she feels she knows best, better than most, at any rate. I don't like it when someone decides to play my cards for me. More later. So we went to El Chapoultepec after the Wings won in fine fashion.� A crappy jazz quartet was playing.� I sat in back and watched this grizzled old man, who likely owned the joint, run the table for many games.� One guy beat him, because he made a mistake, not because the other guy was better. My brother tried to get me to smoke down.� I refused, saying no to drugs twice in one week. Went and gathered up the girls, Lydia was drunk. "I think you're wrong about your sister-in-law." she whispered in my ear.� "I disagree with you.� I think she's nice." Ummm.� So?� How do I tell you this, but you just got worked? I let it slide.� We went to my brother's place and we jammed for a little while.� While clamboring over the guitar cases, my despicable sister-in-law fell on her face harshly.� Then she spilled a glas of water, and excused herself for the night. My brother broke a glass as we finished up. "I think you should leave that for tomorrow,"� Lydia supplied. "Yeah, thanks for condescending to me."�� he said, on the verge of snapping. She does have that habit.� It is annoying. I took her back to my place.� The conversations of earlier echoed in my ears.� She wants to skip a weekend.� Meaning she wants space.� Meaning she wants to reasses. So why is she climbing into my bed? The sex wasn't that great, at least by my standards.� I need an unblocked connection to perform, and to have an experience that is satisfying.� Anything sketchy in the overall relationship detracts from the sex for me. I suppose it was okay. I came inside her.� What was I thinking? She had mentioned something about being late, and thinking she was pregnant. This has occupied a lot of my mind of late. It doesn't really matter, I guess.� I take preventive meds that have a side effect of making it practically, and for all intents and purposes impossible for me to get a girl pregnant while I take them. And I also think that if she is, it isn't mine.� I think she had one last hook-up with her X before she went to school, and he wanted to 'have the last word' so to speak. Me?� Didn't masturbate all week.� Silly me.� No 'last word' connotations on my part, and, as I said, the doctor impressed that nugget of info into my mind, that if I wanted to get someone pregnant, I would have to discontinue or switch meds.� She wouldn't rule it out, as doctors won't, but she said the odds were practically zero if I were trying to get someone pregnant, which I've never really, tried. So if she is pregnant, tests will have to be done.� She's against abortion, which is silly, but I am not about to force that on anyone. I think she'd have complications.� She'd be furthur ahead. But, if she is, and decides to carry to term, this thought came to me last night. She will not give the kid up for adoption.� If its mine, I want it. But, I stand on my position that she is just late, because she strikes me as a girl who is late frequently, and if she is pregnant, its not me. If its not me, I guess I will be as supportive as she'll let me.� Suppose I should call her, but she said she wanted to 'take a weekend off', so you get all the space you want, sweetie. And we talked about my despicable sister-in-law.�� "She said she doesn't hate you."� she said, meaning she must have said something like, "Argentum thinks you hate him."� I absolutley do not like people who speak for me, nor someone who reveals our private conversation.� Uh-fuckin-uh.� I don't tell you how to play your cards, you stay the fuck away from mine. So far, I had cultivated a healthy distance between despicable sister-in-law and me, having her believe I have a healthy distaste for her.� Which is true, I do. Now Lydia has spun it wholly differently. "She says you two are like 'oil and water'."� she said. I drifted off into sleep, not worried about anything. Next day she left.� I called her that afternoon, and she seemed non-chalant.� Put together.� So I haven't called her since.� Was thinking of calling on Tues.� Maybe sooner, I don't know. Been house sitting all week.� Bonding with my friend, thomas' cat.� Watching hockey. Went up and visited the 'Suicide Memorial Benches and Statues'.� Took my dog on loan, Brixton.� He peed everywhere. Found another bench memorial for the girl.� Her name is Erin, where I thought it was Karen.� Eerie similarity, seeing as I witched it out of nowhere, really.� The void. Tried to feel her soul.� She's watching the sunsets and fading every day.� Going for the ultimate wipeout, I guess.� Of a sort.� I think what is the essential us is eternal, peices of the creator.� The awareness likley becomes tabula rasa, although some cohesion of the soul is still there. She's fading fast.� Who hurt you, Erin?� Who hurt you so bad? Someone left her a rose on her statue.� It dried and withered on her feet. I wrote a song this week.� Kinda' like it. Talked to bike girl in the gym this week.� Her body is phenomenal.� Her skin is starting to show the effects of so much tanning, and she wears a lot of make-up. Body sculpting type person.� Kinda' skittish.� With her body, the sex would be powerful.� At least for a little while.� I've been going to that gym for a year and a half, and drooling over her bod pretty much every wednsday.� So this is quite the thrilling development.� My world is now complete.� The gym hottie decided I was worth acknowledgement. I'm hididng at this point, so it doesn't really matter. Hiding from the world. Aaaaaand, currently I am hiding from what I am sure is a feindish level of debauchery at my house. Sometimes I just gotta' keep a low profile.
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