I seem to have a rather fatalistic outlook on life, or at least
relationships. I’ve seen so many friendships fall by the wayside. I never
meant for it to happen, it just does. “Letters that you never meant to send,
lost or thrown away.” Except that I’ve written letters to people and meant
to send them, but never finished them, never stuck them in envelopes, never
affixed postage… Perhaps this has affected my outlook on my relationship
to people. When I meet someone, I tend to forget their name right off.
Maybe it’s because I never intend on seeing them again. Maybe because
precedence has proved that in general that’s what happens.

I’m wondering who that woman is who was in the bathroom with all the girls
with St. Paul’s nametags at school last week. I know I’ve seen her before.
Or if not her, someone very much like her. I’m sure I had a conversation
with her. She has kids. Maybe she homeschooled or used to. I can even tell
you what her personality is like. At least, I’m pretty sure I can. But I
can’t remember where I saw her. And there’s no way I’m going to recall her
name.

My family all seems to suffer from phone ring timing disorder. A bunch of
people are downstairs. I can hear them addressing one another. The phone
just started ringing. It rang. It rang again. And again. No one was
picking it up. So finally I picked up the one on my desk that’s virtually
attached to the modem. I turn the ringer off because I hate having a phone
ring in my room. I can usually hear it from downstairs or in Steph’s room.
My parents’ room is directly under mine, so I can usually hear it through
the floor. And if I can’t, that’s okay. That means I don’t have to worry
about answering it. Considering that it’s never for me. About the only time
I touch it is to pick it up to see if anyone is on the line or not so I can
get on the modem.

But the phone was ringing, and no one was picking it up. So I did. I waited
a second to make sure no one had gotten the same idea downstairs. Then I
said quietly into the receiver, “Hello?” “Yes,” came the calm voice at the
other end of the line, “May I speak to…” At that moment the speaker phone
downstairs came on and my mom yelled, “HELLO?!” There was that moment of
confusion when three people are trying to communicate at once and aren’t
really sure who the other is. I just kept quiet while the lady on the other
end repeated her request, this time able to complete it by asking for
Stephanie. Mom yelled something back, but I hung up. My services were no
longer needed.

We all tend to yell into the speaker phone. That’s because if we talk
normally, it doesn’t seem to catch our voices.

Nathan and I were having a discussion about nudism. I said that I didn’t
think I’d have much a problem with it. It’s just not a big deal for me to
see naked people, and I don’t think it’d be real embarassing for me to go
around without any clothes on. Anyway, now everyone is in the discussion.
The guys seem to think it’d be a really bad idea, while people like my mom
and me aren’t ready to condemn nudist colonies. I mean, it doesn’t embarrass
me to see someone without clothes on. And the only reason I’d be
uncomfortable naked is if the people around me are feeling that way. But I
can say this and not know how I’d really react until it actually happened.
Which, chances are, it won’t. I don’t know why I’m telling you this.

Nathan said he could make a killing selling nude pictures of me. He said
next time he sees Stephen he’s gonna ask him how much he’d pay for nude
pictures of me. We made predictions about what his reaction would be. Ah,
what we do to amuse ourselves.

It’s been an interesting weekend. Denise, Nathan, and I have done some
hanging, since Steph’s been off babysitting each night. They all just went
down to Cream ‘n Bean for coffee. Asked me if I wanted to go. I declined.
I’m supposedly writing an English paper.

I need to start a new chess game. That’s what I need to do. I’m having
trouble finding a reason for living. A chess game should do that for me.

My brother just gently berated me for keeping the popcorn popper up in my
room. He’s probably been looking for it for 10 minutes now. Ah well. I
should have appologized.

Did you know that Newt Gingrich fell in love with his high school teacher,
and they got married? She got cancer later on. He grew up, changed, and
divorced her.