The weather�s got me a little bit down. Manageably sad, though.

I rode to work by dint of the lord this morning. The truck wouldn�t start again and I tried so long, and it�s a stick shift so it roles on my hilly driveway, therefore I got it nearly taking down the fence in my backyard. I need a dry spell and I need it soon. Damn truck. So I started walking in and I got about a block from my house when a car pulled up beside me and a kindly middle-aged woman asked me if I was headed toward school and I said I was and I was all ready to give her directions but nope. She said hop in, I�ll give you a ride. So I climbed in back with her daughter, who is in 4th grade she tells me. And my driver said the spirit told her to pick me up and the spirit told her I was going to campus and then she asked me what my major was and I told her I wasn�t a student. She said, are you a teacher then? I said, yup. It was easier, somehow, than explaining my whole life. She said the spirit told her I was a teacher but she didn�t want to offend me in case I was worried about looking my age or something. She dropped me off and it really didn�t shorten my walk at all�just shifted it. That was all right too. It�s a good thing to occasionally welcome the oddities of this earth and I hardly ever do.

It got me thinking�some of this I wrote in an email to Frances just now�but see, that kind woman told me just a few little nibblets about herself and I could tell she wanted me to ask her more, but I just couldn�t. I get scared to know things about people. Conversation is often too intimate for me. If it gets too friendly, I find myself itching to get up and go. Yesterday afternoon I was giggling madly with my favorite student Heather about something�that girl is too funny�but it got me nervous. Like we were making friends. So I got up and went into the bathroom and washed my hands. When I came back I sat down and put my headphones on. Later Claribel started talking to me and I just got so breathless that I lied and said ohmygosh! I have to call blah blah blah. I get scared to have people know me and I�m scared to know people. I�m sure it wasn�t always like this. Well. No I�m not. It always was, except for that brief spell in college.

Speaking of college, I finally talked to Sue for about 2 hours on the phone last night. It was fun, but also a little bit boring. I�m sorry for even thinking that, but there it is. She�s a nice person. I�m thinking of heading up to visit DC and her and Adam sometime. Jess said she�s maybe coming around there for New Year�s Eve, so maybe I will too. It�s interesting how the world is shaping up. The last five years or so since college we�ve all been steadily losing touch with one another, but now, in the last 6 months or so, people are deciding not to let this happen. I think we�re all sort of realizing how good those friendships were back then. I�m glad for it. But I still think, except for Blythe and sfitz, and to a lesser extent J-bird and Adam and Sue, those friendships were almost purely contextual. Like if I met those same people on the street today I doubt we�d be friends. Except for Blythe and sfitz. I�d always be friends with them.

Knowing people is hard. I don�t see how it�s so easy for other people. Like the woman this morning. Picking me, a stranger, up off the street and talking to me like we�ve known each other for a time. I don�t see how to do that. Truth be told, I�m not accepting any more rides from strangers. I�d rather walk in the rain by myself.

I�ve been reading A Raisin in the Sun for class tomorrow night. I read it a million years ago but I forgot what a pleasure it is. But it�s making me nervous, like all plays make me nervous. At least all tragedies do. I know bad things are brewing. I just want to stay with the characters before the bad things begin.

I�m also reading a crappy horrible and just plain BAD mystery by Patricia Cornwall�who I think is one of the worst mystery writers ever. I am fascinated by her books though because a. why the hell is she one of the highest paid writers in this country? and b. she is one strange lady. Like I know she�s gay and she�s got gay characters in her books, but she is so insulting to them. Like all gay people have AIDS and are stereotypes (the men are all sissies, the women all butch). And she�s so damned reactionary in her politics, it makes me a little sick. I read her books for inspiration because every time I read one I think, damn girl. You can do better than this. Get going.

And third, I�m reading this fun little book Bathsheba once gave me, A Critical Companion to Buffy� or some such title. It�s full of scholarly articles on Buffy. Some of them suck. And again, I think, I can do better than this. Some of these folks don�t get that show at all. But it�s fun to read nonetheless and a few of the essays are actually quite good and thoughtful.

I got to get my butt in gear now. Work beckons. Plus I�ve got to make an exam. And contemplate the futility of existence. Bye-bye bugger boo.