January 1st, 2006

Brad @ Burning Man

I suck, but they love me anyway.

New Year's Eve at the local science fiction fandom clubs' party until 10ish, then at the_geoffrey's until 5ish, and wonderful to see so many of the people I love, and especially to see so many women that I like, love, have crushes on, or am hot for at their dressed up finest. And liquor, lovely liquor.

I spent a bunch of hours at Celestial House talking to a friend. I'd been out on the smoker's porch hanging out when she walked up, and I gave her a big childishly happy hello as she walked up, because I was so happy to see her! It'd been months!

*cough*
*stare at feet*

No, it had been three years. God, I suck. I am such a timeless creature. I don't know if it's distant faerie ancestry (as I occasionally joke, and you know, I am a quarter Irish), or my screwed up neuro-chemistry, or my bohemiam-American upbringing, or all the hours of my life that have vanished because I fell into a book and a few minutes later when I put the book down it was the next day. All I know is that, regardless of why it happens, I have no more sense of what linear time means than an angel from heaven does. I can only barely reconstruct sequence from causality, and sometimes I get even that much wrong. And if asked to measure relative time, whether in seconds or minutes or hours or days or months or years, I can be off by as much as an entire order of magnitude, that is to say a multiple (or less often a divisor) of ten, as I was in this time. She said she'd missed me. I'd missed her. She knew it was three years. I thought it was three or so months. I think I missed her as much as she missed me, maybe more so (because she's dead sexy and smart and a nudist brunette in glasses even if she is painfully thin, whereas I'm just J. Random Oldfatwindbag), but for all of that, I couldn't have even vaguely gotten right how long I've been missing her. 45 and a half years of trying to fit in, and I still don't "get" the linear passage of time. I just suck that way.

And did I mention that having spent much of that three years living in one of the most famous communes in America, and having been a cool person before that, she completely kicked my ass last night at the "one time" game? I don't play it competitively on purpose, I just know (as some of you noticed during the That Special Christmas Weirdness series) I've lived such a weird life that in general, when I say, "That reminds me of something weird that happened," it's probably weirder than what's happened to you. Nope. She wins. I adore her. I adore a lot of people, it's true. Unlike her most of them are in committed relationships to other people; I'm a natural Secondary that way. But I adore her none the less.

But for all of being reminded that I suck, it was nice to wallow in the love of my friends. I can't go to one of the_geoffrey's parties and not feel loved. So many of those people give me far more credit than I think I'm due for the cool things that have happened to them in their lives, and so many of them love me even after the pity party of desperation that was 2005 for me. I needed that.

I'm exhausted, I'm drunk, it's probably a good thing that I'm alone for all that it's not entirely by choice, the door is locked, the furnace is still out of order since Wednesday and I guess the expletive-deleted landlord isn't going to be able to get it fixed before Tuesday and I can't complain because I still owe them big money until the last back-pay check comes in, I'm happy, I'm drunk, my electric space heater is keeping it halfway decent in here, I have no intention of proofreading this, and and I'm going to bed. Happy new year, everybody.