  Hello. Okay, so about me. Anyway, I just got back from helping Hector out. His lights had turned off, and he was a bit scared. I went over there with a bright little lantern, and we sat around while FPL replaced the fuse on the power line. A possum had zapped itself.
I looked at the possum -- he was lying dead beneath the powerlines. He didn't look too good (his eyes were burned out). Life, it happens, then it doesn't. Tonight we had the "meeting" -- "Young at Heart". This is probably the meeting's first reference on the web! If you're ever in the Miami area and you're a Friend of Bill, show up at the Coral Room (it's right by LeJeune and US1) at 7:30 on Any Given Sunday and check us out.
We're cool. So I headed over there with Jose (he's that funny guy), Adam (he's that dramatic but very nice guy), Will (he's the young one), and Jimmy ('Jimmy the Leg'). We had a nice get together, and then we broke -- I took them back to their respective houses (well, Adam went off with this girl), and I rented Peter Pan. Peter Pan -- that was for my girlfriend. She's awesome, but damn, she's an Evil Black Monster of the Deep (hereafter EBMD) this time of the month (TTOTM). She wanted to watch it, but by the time I finally got home, it was 11:30, and she had to sleep.
She's one of those people who work in the morning. So I was sitting here writing a different blog (my blogs shall not co-mingle, so I shall not mention its name here) when Hector called. I didn't really want to go out there, but I was so happy I did, because it's always rewarding to do those things that I don't want to do. Earlier, I don't recall. Oh, yes! It was mother's day (hi mom!).
We went over to a great restaurant on the beach. It's not really a restaurant, it's more of a sandwich shop of sorts -- or rather, a sandwich stand. But they make the best prosciutto and mozzarella sandwiches this side of wherever they make them really well. So good. Liked that, and so did she. We had a nice chat over at Starbucks afterward, and then she went home.
She told me she was lonely. That broke my heart. I love her, but it's so hard to express that, being a 23 year old male who is generally incapable of showing emotion. So this is my blog, and I can write just as much as I damn well please. I don't have to worry about a comedic sense of timing on here: I can't rattle on all night for all I care, and there's not a damn thing you can do about it (NADTYCDAI). Thank God for spellcheck.
Earlier, earlier, grinding the wheels all the way back to the morning -- rolled out of bed at 11:30-ish, and I went off to tutor Pete in mathematics. He's doing alright. He's got his big final tomorrow (it's that time of year), and we're all rooting for him. Hector asked me to pray for him. The FPL guy was mighty fucking cool. Actually, he was a major geek, but in my eyes, he was fantastic.
He put this big silver wire into this rusty tube and stuck it up on the power lines, and there was this jolt of blue light and then the thud of the air conditioners all the way up and down 14th street whirring back to life. One day, my boy, we'll look back on all this and laugh. And that day will be tonight. Felt good. Perhaps I was a bit cocky today. Alex stuck a bunch of crap under my windshield wipers, and while driving, I littered it.
I justified that by blaming Alex for putting the crap under my wipers to begin with. No, that was wrong. I feel bad about it, which is enough. Not that my feelings are any indicator of an "outward" reality; I've been told that many times. What is an indicator of outward reality? There's a question that has the potential to keep you rocking in bed at night for hours.
If you really think about it. Got a call from Glenn G last night. He said he's been broken up with his girl for about three weeks. Girl of two and a half years! That's longer than I've ever gone: my longest was about 19 months, and that one was a goner after about the third hour. You gotta hate those relationships that are over before they start, but then you go and start them anyway just to see how they end, and then they last for 19 months.
What are you supposed to do with the 19 months in the middle? Treasure the memories? What memories? I was too drunk to remember most of it. God, I've been an asshole. I'm not sure if I feel bad about it, or think it's funny.
I'll probably feel bad about it tomorrow. Well, maybe not. After all, tomorrow never comes. I'm gonna have to figure out how to refine this spew at some point, otherwise nobody's going to read it. Damn you, comedic timing! You are my nemesis.
Love it, Rob 
