November 15, 2003 - 2:29 p.m.
It took me two weeks to update this time. That is a bad, terrible thing, and I am in all likelihood a bad, terrible person for it. I settled myself into a nice pattern (or "rut") of updating every weekend, but then I blew it.
You aren't missing much, though. Last week, the only thing I would have had to talk about was my thoughts on Matrix Revolutions. The best thing about that movie was Laurie's vinyl dress and an excuse to wear my giant goth boots. I probably could have written a big essay about the movie to fill up diary space last week, but now my thoughts about Matrix Revolutions are "eh" and "hm."
Oh, and I meant to write this in the solid chocolate shell of the morning, not the soft, gooey center of the afternoon. But it's not my fault, the demo for Uru: Ages Beyond Myst showed up! Seems like Cyan has been working on that game forever. It turns out that it's a lot like the other games, only since it's all in realtime 3D, I spend a lot more time falling off ledges. And it's kind of weird finding out that the pathway to the mystical civilization of the D'ni is a hole in the ground in New Mexico, watched over by a guy who lives in a trailer and eats Doritos. I spent more time making a character who looked like me than I did in the game, I think, which is a good thing. Uru Kevin actually looks better than Tony Hawk Kevin.
The demo was pretty short, but it turns out as almost exactly what I wanted. The thing I liked most about Myst was its leisurely pace, and there is something very calming about just running around looking at things. Even when I wrestle with the controls and fall off a bridge that I could have walked Super Mario across without thought or effort, I am at peace in the world of Uru (or at least New Mexico). I can't believe it's actually out now, because this is now officially the most annoying time of the year to be a gamer with a limited budget. I'm afraid Nintendo has me booked this month... Uru will have to wait. And there's still Viewtiful Joe and Futurama...
Well, that takes care of the "ramble about video games" portion of the entry. Now for the "female" part!
(I don't feel good typing "girl" anymore. But, accurate or not, it just seems forced to write "woman." Hence, "female.")
A while ago at work, my MP3 player-- which runs out to both me and Matt through a Radio Shack splitter-- played "No Aphrodisiac" by The Whitlams. It went something like this:
The Whitlams: There's noooo aphrodisiac like lone-li-ness...
Matt: Speaking of which, how about you and Laurie?
Me: What? What does that have to do with anything?
Matt: There's no aphrodisiac like loneliness... LONE-LI-NESSS... you're NOT LONELY anymore! So, are you and her... a HOT ITEM? Heh? Huh?
Me: Uh...
Matt: HOT ITEM! RRRRRRR! WEH HEH HEH! HOT ITEM! Vrooooom!Ahahahaha
Me: WHAT THE CRAP IS WRONG WITH YOU??
Matt was really tired and working later than usual and kind of going crazy, but it was kind of a funny moment. Ever since we had this conversation...
Matt: Didn't you used to like Laurie?
Me: I did. And I do now.
Matt: You should tell her.
Me: I did, actually.
Matt: And?
Me: And she likes me too.
...he has been asking me, every day, if she Is My Girlfriend Yet. I would always give him a vague, philosophical reply and he would respond with "but you like her, and she likes you!" Every day. The fact that it had devolved into Matt barking (and over-enunciating) "HOT ITEM! HOT ITEM!" and making car noises only stood to remind me further that people just don't like ambiguity in place of juicy gossip chunks. When even the female's ex is wondering if you are ever going to make it official, perhaps you are being too cautious.
As I wrote in my last entry (I think it was like 1975), I wasn't really ready to define it. I wasn't sure it needed defining. But before it became A Relationship I wanted to make sure of some things first. I wanted to be absolutely confident that both of us were ready. But mostly I wanted to warn her.
I wanted to warn Laurie about the fact that I am a lousy boyfriend.
Turns out that is an even harder conversational topic to breach than "I have a big crush on you," which, as you know, is one I eventually had to do online. And things kind of progressed without the need for any of my neurotic hurdles. Our momentum was such that it rendered totally impotent that part of my brain that apparently is very motivated to crap on the solid chocolate of happiness by coating it with a layer of soft, gooey doubt.
There was one moment I was so smitten that my heart patched itself directly to my mouth, circumventing the brain completely, and what came out was: "Would you be offended if I referred to you as my girlfriend?" I won't go into the specifics of the situation, but my neck detected Laurie shaking her head vigorously. No, she would not be offended. Perhaps she would even be pleased.
So there you go. I have a girlfriend and her name is Laurie. I like her a whole lot. And I might not even have to warn her that I'm a crappy boyfriend because she has insisted that I am the "sweetest person ever" without any unsure prompting or compliment-fishing on my part whatsoever. Totally voluntarily, she is happy with how I do things, at least so far. And it has already been established how effortlessly happy she makes me. So now the soft, gooey center of our mutual attraction has the solid chocolate shell of definition.
I think I'm going to draw her a picture. Right now!
