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Monday, May. 27, 2002 - 7:14 p.m.
Morning Hair and Other Beautiful Things

I am recalling one morning with a girlfriend a couple of years ago. I woke up at her place. She was sitting by the window looking outside wearing only a robe. With closed eyes she was drinking in the morning weekend sun, with a small smile.

I got up, walked over to her and hugged her from behind.

"My God, you are so beautiful...I can't believe it," I said, or something like that.

I really could not believe that I was in such a privileged position right then and I told her. She graciously accepted the compliment, but could not understand how I could think that way. She hadn't had her coffee. She hadn't showered. There was no makeup on. Her hair was a mess. Yet I thought she was more beautiful right that moment than I had ever seen her. It was a Moment.

Men have these moments every so often. Have you ever been talking with your man and you notice that he is paying MUCH more attention to you that usual? It isn't because what you are saying is totally captivating; it's not because he wants to get into your pants right then; it's a different look. A look of complete awe and gratitude. Because he is with the most beautiful creature anywhere. And she loves him.

Most women that I know cannot even begin to understand these Moments, when they themselves feel at their least attractive. These Moments have as much to do with the woman as they do with their looks, otherwise they couldn't happen in this way. Sometimes I tell a woman about the Moment when it happens, sometimes I keep it to myself as a private treasure.

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The look:
The feel:
The taste:
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Monday, May. 27, 2002 - 4:01 p.m.
Just Friends, Really

I was thinking about someone just now.

I thought that we could be pretty good friends, actually. It started out that way. Well, we fooled around a bit but that was discussed as just a one-time thing, no biggie, doesn't matter. But maybe it does.

I realize that this is starting to sound like something a 17-year-old sexually-determined girl might write. But it seems strange that even though neither of us wanted a relationship with the other, that that incident should kill all communication. But I'm sure I give myself too much credit. It must be something else entirely.

I was hoping to have email discussions, fun phone convos, the odd movie or beer, work on some writing projects and just hang out. Once in a while. Not to fool around or anything. Really. But now I feel like a bit of a diseased pariah with respect to her.

I guess it doesn't matter much, she won't be back here in town for weeks anyway, but by then, there won't be any reason to contact each other. Besides, we only went out once, and only spoke to each other a few times, although there was plenty of email. And she has been dealing with plenty of things in the last couple of months.

I was feeling that I didn't need any more female friends, but that isn't exactly true, is it? I could probably use a couple more, if only to more evenly balance my Friday group.

0 scrawls at the end of this hall

The look:
The feel:
The taste:
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Monday, May. 27, 2002 - 11:19 a.m.
Suj's Turn

Friday night. Suj's turn to host, and host he did. I was the fashionably late one, and I arrived with a belly full of rum and a really good mood. I felt great.

They were talking about Deb's successful score the previous night (Steph really loves to dish, but then again, I suppose I do, too) and what will happen now that she has been invited to some ethnic event that she was not really into. Steph and Jade left (what a surprise) and Saab, Deb, Suj and I went off to Tokyo.

Normally I don't flirt with waitresses or bartenders (ESPCIALLY WHEN DRUNK, DAMMIT!)but my God, this one was absolutely beautiful. It's so easy to imagine her in the morning sitting by the window wearing her white robe having a coffee, or sitting there drinking in the morning weekend sunrays on her angelic face. She has a Folger's Coffee satisfied smile. But that's another entry.

One thing that really struck me was her skirt. It was actually a tight, sleeveless sweater. Sounds silly, but it worked, and worked WELL.

Anyway, we flirted (I flirted), then danced and flirted and danced and drank. It was a good night. We even caught the 363 home. Only one problem: not enough women in our group. I'm going to have to start recruiting.

0 scrawls at the end of this hall

The look:
The feel:
The taste:
________________________