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12.22.00 8:59 p.m.

"it can't rain all the time"


 -James O'Barr 



NOTE: This entry was created on 3/17/01 from a letter written to Heather.
Response 2021.05.07

Katie (my dearest, darling, sweetheart Katie... yes, something is new and I partially credit your advice) bleached her hair and dyed it purple. It looks lovely.
Oh, I am in a rare and lovely mood. I shall simply have to purr. She and I are not fully together, but I believe and hope it is just a matter of time.
And it is not insubstantial speculation, but actual osculation.
For the first time since... well, since she broke up with me, kisses excited me. Moreover, they didn't annoy and disgust me, as had happen when other girls tried to kiss me. And I credit it all to Vladimir Nabokov, Conor, Sarah, and Heather. Well, and me. I certainly couldn't have done it without me. Mostly Nabokov though.
Oh, I'll explain.
I gave Kate some discarded Russian books from my library. She sat on her bed, reciting the Russian poetry to me slowly. So I put one arm around her.
She didn't stop reciting.
A few minutes later, I put my other arm around her and my head on her shoulder.
Still no complaints.
So I began kissing her shoulder and neck. After a bit, I kissed myself (via her back) all the way to the other shoulder. She was on my lap and asked why I was doing any of this. I told her, "I don't know what the right answer is, but I love you and wanted to. This feels very right." This was fine with her.
Over the course of the night, I kissed her a great deal more and she initiated kissing me on the lips and was holding me. It was wonderful.
I have decided that, obviously, I want to renew a relationship with her. Or, to speak more clearly, I wish to create a new relationship with her. One where I have enough time and space to myself (so obviously she would too) but also to have HER. Not impossible, I hope.


reading: Still Life With Woodpecker , Tom Robbins
listening: The sound of my purring
wanting:
Kate
interesting thought: Patience is equally a virtue as a pain in the arse.

Thomm Quackenbush is an author and teacher in the Hudson Valley. He has published four novels in his Night's Dream series (We Shadows, Danse Macabre, Artificial Gods, and Flies to Wanton Boys). He has sold jewelry in Victorian England, confused children as a mad scientist, filed away more books than anyone has ever read, and tried to inspire the learning disabled and gifted. He is capable of crossing one eye, raising one eyebrow, and once accidentally groped a ghost. When not writing, he can be found biking, hiking the Adirondacks, grazing on snacks at art openings, and keeping a straight face when listening to people tell him they are in touch with 164 species of interstellar beings. He likes when you comment.