2001-12-13 - 2:40 a.m.

Diaryland was down yesterday, which is why I never finished my S. story. Too bad. "Live in the now," though.

Radish is on her way out at work, apparently. I still think she's going to make vice president in nine years. E. came back to work for a limited time only. All of the B.U. kids are on their study breaks. Apparently, the term "study break" means the same thing today at B.U. as it once did during my heyday holiday at Emerson College. It certainly has nothing to do with studying. The college kids are out in droves (and believe you me, I know a drove when I see one), willfully showcasing their youth by gathering in massive needy bunches and denying old ladies seats on the Green Line. Studious E. has come back to work. Yay!

We went back to my place together so I could drop off my man purse. Actually, I did need to drop off my man purse. I had purchased several items from CVS that afternoon (some presents for the Girlfriend, some toiletries for myself). We planned on going to Star Market, and I didn't want to carry home all my food as well as crap from CVS. Plus, on the off chance that a paranoid security guard should choose to search my person, I did not want a plethora of unopened consumer goods to surface.

I also wanted to make sure I made the packie before closing time. It goes packie then supermarket when the twain do meet. Although the packie is certainly not the road less traveled.

It worked out for E., though. I made her a sweet Italian chicken sausage with chicken and prochuitto tortellonis and some shredded smoked cheddar I got from Haymarket. (She was there when I picked it up last Friday.)

Good times. Not bad times.

Sammy Smith pints were on sale at Macy's a couple of days ago, and I picked up two bottles to prestige up the 30 pack of Buds I always purchase. I busted out the two pints (a porter and a lager), and we split them both.

I've been listening to Elliott Smith's eponymous album lately. In fact, I was listening to it this morning when I was getting ready for work. I pressed the play button on my kitchen CD player when I was making dinner for E., and we ended up getting into a conversation about the album and about Elliott Smith. When the album was finished, I played Either/Or for her, and she asked me if she could borrow it.

I told her no.

I told her that I had written a new song and asked her if she wanted to hear it.

She said yes.

I played the song for her, and she thought it was OK. I then whispered to her that it was her Christmas present. She gave me a gentle kiss right in my ear. It was loud.

I busted out her other present. I had gotten her Either/Or quite some time ago--the first round of Christmas presents I had gotten from Amazon in early September.

I think I did a pretty fucking good job with her for Christmas.

I was going to wait to give her my gifts, but she had told me earlier that I wasn't getting mine until after Christmas. I couldn't wait that long to give E. her stuff--it would have killed me. Plus, the Either/Or coincidence. We went out and we had a good time at the Supermarket. She hinted around for a walk home. I almost always do it for her, but I had two full bags of spoiling and very heavy bags of groceries to walk home. Besides, I'm not a walking home machine! But then I was all worried about her, and I am still. I'll send her an "I'm slightly sorry" e-mail when I finish this. I really do care about her. Sorry.

I played the song for the Girlfriend, and she liked it. I'm not telling anyone besides E. that the song I played for her was for her. The Girlfriend would balk--she'd seem cool about it, but it would bother her. It's not like the opus I wrote for H. I'm not the only person I know who has written a song for H. E.'s song is just that--her song, and she can do anything she wants to with it. If she wants to keep it a secret between just us, that's where it shall dwell. For the hell of it, and since I've been talking about it for so long, here it is. In case you can't tell, it's about her trip on the Green Line from B.U. to meet me at work for some lunch.

any other way

Take the Northbound and don't you delay.

Have your token out ready to pay.

Find a seat at the end of the train.

I can't see it any other way.

Open up to the bookmarked page.

Listen to the students engage

In conversations as if they were on stage.

I can't see it any other way.

Angelic screeching is the dominant sound.

The world gets dark as you head underground.

Across is a woman with a bow in her hair.

The train doors fly open, and you're almost there.

Close your book and get up from your seat.

Up the stairs and you're out on the street.

Left on to Washington, turn right at State.

It'll be nice to see you after such a long wait.

You look very pretty, and it's such a nice day.

Hold me close as you're looking away.

Pictures fade. Edges fray.

Frost turns to water, and nothing gold can stay.

But that's all tomorrow, and this is today.

And I can't see you any other way.