  Another wonderful, albeit low-key, evening spent with the girl. Driving down the freeway to a meeting (yikes! A meeting! I introduced myself a lush! ) screaming hot lyrics from Shelby Lynn infusing the mood with passionate rhythm. My hand on Kerris thigh, exchanging loving looks in between lane changes and passing cars.
Such carefree fun with that woman. Carefree but not insignificant. I stare out the window at the stars and get lost in reflection. That metaphor of the distant lights like looking back in time playing with my head. Thinking of where the two of us have been, where we are now blessed for the timing. As arbitrary as the concept of time may be.
I wanted to get home to write. Actually, I wanted to get home to give Kerri a chance to get good sleep without company in her bed. She has yoga in the morning, and I know how important it is to arrive prepared in every way. I dont want to be a distraction. So I kissed her sweet mouth goodnight and let myself out. Out to a neighbourhood in mourning.
A young man died there last night, a drunk driving accident that turned fatal when the car the kids were in hit the curb and took out a tree on its path to a brick wall. So sad. Sobering too. Not just figuratively either. Things like that happening hurt to hear about. Calls my own behaviour into question how many times Ive driven (much more carefully than going 90 on a residential street) when I really shouldnt have.
Tragic, this scene of candles and flowers and tearful high school students locked in embrace. Although by the time I left, it was already after one in the morning, so the scene was desolate. Appropriately so, I suppose. Kind of felt dead and empty, these impotent human imprints lost along a dark road in Escondido. I came home to my other love, mr.kitty. a lot of love to go around.
I love that little fuzz ball. Me and K saw a movie tonight. Kind of heavy with more violence that I can really stand to see without my fingers like wooden shutters over my eyes. We saw Mystic River with Sean Penn and a whole host of other good actors. Like the lovely Laura Linney. (there I go again with my alliterations) tragic story.
I dont like to hear about child molestation. It really was a quality film though. For all its flaws (it had one at the end that we agreed should have been cut from the film  you could tell there was a more fleshed out story going on in the book it was taken from that wasnt fully realised in the film) no, it wasnt flawed. Perfect for its genre. See it, eh. Guys.
I love her. Its not perfect, and were 16 years apart in age. But you know, she honours me. I feel good about my self in ways I havent felt in years. Or ever if you count the sullying muck that coated all that was Claudia. Shes the only other person Ive felt a deep, timeless connection to, so I have to compare them.
Even though theres no comparison. Theres no mindfuck going on here. Im honestly presented and so is she. And you know, it works. Grateful am I that she lives so close to me on top of it (on the mundane level). Its way late.
Im done for now. 
