I'll bet you guessed what I ended up doing at the end of the last entry, I ended up not writing about Sunday! Not that I need to tell you that, certainly, as you are all insightful and observant that way. And now, with no further ado, The Tale of Sunday.

On Sunday I had two dates, an early date and a late date! What a bad bad girl I am. Of course, said dates were only dates in the sense that they were one-on-one meetings with boys, one being my college boyfriend and the other being Michael, but I will take what I can get.

My college boyfriend, whom I loved more than anything for three years, is Geoffrey Welchman. He is a singer-songwriter, and my greatest memory of college was sitting in the stairwell with him, listening to him sing and play, watching his left hand, never his face. I love watching a guitar player's left hand, all the important things happen there, I learned that with Geoffrey.

I think we only really went out for three months in a row in our freshman year, but we were on and off for absolutely ages. In between, he would date this appalling girl named Cindy who was old, like twenty-two or something, and was a big looney-bird. I, of course, observed her completely neutrally and fairly, with no agenda. Yup, that's what I did alright.

Whenever we weren't sleeping together, though, we were best friends, and I absolutely count him as one of the people closest to me in my life, even though until Sunday we hadn't seen each other in around six years. None of that matters, though, because the people who knew you then will always know you, no matter what.

Well, Geoffrey got married and moved away and had a baby and got divorced, and a couple of years ago, he found me on the internet! And whenever people ask me why I have my full name online, it's so that people like Geoffrey can find me, people whom I never meant to get out of touch with.

He had moved to Northern California, but recently he moved to Baltimore, because that's where his little boy moved, and that city is apparently on the east coast! Look, by now you must know that I don't have a map in my head, I don't want to hear about it.

Anyway, he came to see an old bandmate's show, but I couldn't go because I had a show myself Friday night. We had half-planned to get together on Saturday, but after playing phone tag all day, we didn't manage it, and met on Sunday instead.

He was driving to my house from Staten Island, and I left the directions from the city on his voicemail (he couldn't get a cell signal his entire time in this state, practically, so I never caught him. He, however, didn't come through the city, he came along Rte. 1, and I had no idea how to give directions, so I have him call upstairs and made Cynthia talk him down to the house, like a jumper on the ledge of a skyscraper.

When he was nearish the house, he was afraid he was losing the signal, so I ran out to Park and stood on the corner so that he could see me. He missed me, somehow, and came back the other way, parked across the street, and walked back, waving.

I took him back to the house, to the backyard that is, because nobody comes into my house, it's far too disgusting to allow people to see it, they will be struck blind. But it was a beautiful day, so beautiful that I un-retired my sandals for the weekend, perfect for hanging out in the backyard and talking.

And playing the guitar! He asked if it was safe to leave in the car and I said, "You're not going to bring it?!" and he played and sang old songs that still live in my head, and new songs from his new cd, which is marvelous. And the first song he played, I practically burst into tears. Just sitting there, watching his left hand. It was just the same--he's better, I don't mean that he has stagnated since college, but it was so familiar.

After a couple of hours or so, after losing Monty in the garage, and then through the fence (Katie kindly shinnied over to get him for me), and after letting Geoffrey walk through my apartment to go upstairs to use the bathroom (he understood why I didn't want him in as he leapt from clear spot on the floor to clear spot on the floor), we were hungry, and I insisted on the House of Pancakes, though Geoffrey stated that he had never had a good meal at an IHoP in his life. Hey, I didn't get to go in Chicago, and he had a car, how could I turn down this opportunity? So I did not, and we went to the House of Pancakes.

Which had improved mightily since the last time I had been there, since they now have real hash browns, not Ore Ida Golden Patties. Not that I have anything against Ore Ida Golden Patties, when I'm in my house or McDonald's, but not at the House of Pancakes, dammit!

He had a bacon burger. "Well, was it good?" "Of course not!"

Then he drove me back to the house. Um, kind of the long way.

I live really nearby the House of Pancakes, I really do, but the streets aren't in a grid around me, and I haven't got the most refined sense of direction on the planet earth (I don't know if you've heard), and we actually went there in kind of an odd roundabout way, but that was nothing to the trip home.

We went home via Hoboken. I don't know if you are aware of how far out of our way that was, but you know what? It's pretty far! I just kept laughing and Geoffrey kept saying, "Um, am I going the wrong way?" and I just kept sputtering about how I was laughing at myself. This is only ever happens to me. "As long as I can see the city, we're not really lost..." "Okay, that's fine, but I really do want to start back home before dark!" It only took about half an hour for that ten minute drive, I don't know what he was complaining about.

You know how you don't realize how much you miss someone until you see them again? It was like that. I never want to not see Geoffrey for that long ever again.

O, wait, I forgot!

On the roundabout ride through Union City to get to the House of Pancakes in the first place, we were talking about dating and sex and things, natch, and I mentioned how long it's been since I've had it and all, and he was suitably impressed or shocked or something, and then he looked at me sideways and said, "It wasn't me, was it?" And I said "No...wait a minute! It was!" All this time I thought that my last sexual partner was James in London, but it was Geoffrey in Brooklyn a whole year later!

He said, "Um, had I known, I would have tried harder to make it memorable!"

This is already too long, but if I don't write about my second date, I'll be two whole days behind!

Fuck it, I'll ride that ragged edge of disaster, baby. You can't stop me!

Today's horoscope:
Playfulness predominates. Go for lighthearted activities. Put off more serious matters til another day.

One year ago today:
"Shut the fuck up and start the show!" I wanted to say, but it would have hurt his feelings.

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Last Updated Sun 28 October 12:40:09 2001