2002-04-25 - 1:29 a.m.

Been on a crazy run with the books. Took a week off from the readin' a month or so ago, and then went on a crazy streak.

A Confederacy of Dunces

The Beach (Haven't seen the film, but I'm sure that it sucked.)

Stupid White Men by Michael Moore, just for kicks.

Portnoy's Complaint, which I tremendously enjoyed.

And now, I'm reading Observatory Mansions by Edward Carey.

I don't know if this is the greatest book ever written, but it's totally the right book, for me, right now. I love it so much that I won't let myself read too much of it in one sitting.

I've tried to talk about this book to people, but I'll stop myself 'cause (besides the fact that talking about a piece of fiction to someone who hasn't read said piece is rude) there's just too much to talk about.

I dunno. I'm always convinced that the book that I'm currently reading is the best book ever, but, holy cow, I think that this just might be the one.

Let's put it this way. Become friends with me. I'll buy this book for you for Christmas or your birthday (if you read).

Anyway...

Hung out with Molly tonight. I had a really good time 'cause it was boring.

Make sense?

Molly always projects such a hip and on the go image, that it was a massive relief for me that she could be comfortable enough around me for her to let her guard down around me. She wasn't trying to impress me. Or wow me away. She just took me to some bar that she would just be drinking at anyway, and had some beers with me. And some other people too. They were both Irish chicks; one of 'em was the bartender at the bar where Molly spins (which in this narrative I probably usually refer to as Molly's bar).

They had been there all day, and I couldn't understand a word the pair were saying.

We all sat around, in the bar, debating what to do. Then we all admitted that maybe we should all go home�that nothing was going to happen.

Then, I went home.

Nothing happened.

Nobody got laid. Nobody got into a fight. Nobody danced on a bartable. Nobody said anything embarrassing. Nobody said anything memorable. It seemed like something that had happened a hundred times.

But.

Nobody was trying too hard to impress. Nobody was putting on airs. Nobody was talking out of his or her (respective) ass. Nobody was putting anybody down. Nobody was bringing themselves any closer to a date of excommunication, or sex, or of a quiet shift in opinion.

It was just another night at the bar.

Nothing glamorous.

Which is a massive relief to me. To me, now, Molly is now suddenly my actual friend. In her mind now, she has nothing to lose if she isn't being her all, her ultimate, around me. She doesn't have to hide if she's having a bad day.

When I hugged her goodbye at her corner, and then walked on to the train, there were no final words.