The original entry

I have just arrived home after having seen both Nancy and Kate.

That sounds like a terrible idea. Two young women whom you should not kiss, both of whom you have recently.

Secondly is, of course, that Nancy is a very pleasant person to spend time with and I enjoy her company.

And that she gives you attention, more so when you lack self-control in regards to her.

Nancy had only forty-five minutes in which to hang out, which was okay as Kate paged as I was on my way toward New Paltz and wanted to spend time with me in a little over an hour. I adore when plans fall into place like that.

I'm not sure that, in your relationship with these women, you could be considered to be two-timing anyone. However, this is at least juxtaposed-timing them.

I walked among the gravestones, carrying on a monologue with the bones beneath my feet.

You are by your nature an odd duck. Don't be strange for the sake of being seen as strange.

Nancy took a few pictures of the cemetery and one of me happily hugging a large marble orb and a crucifix (it looked like the cross wanted to hug me, who was I to argue?).

I wonder where these pictures ended up. There are dozens, if not hundreds, of pictures of you that you will never see.

That is assuming that Nancy did not destroy them, which would have been well within her rights, both as a photographer and the young woman whom you are jerking around.

Not only that, but I tend to not like Kate's friends. No, that isn't exactly true. Individually, I might think they are nice people. However, together, it can get to me very quickly.

It is entirely fair to say that they are obnoxious to you intentionally since, as has been well covered, you represent something that could make Kate less fun for them.

Especially now that Kate's roommate has decided she is madly in love (from a girl who doesn't believe in love...) with an "energetic" boy she rarely ceases to snog.

I do recall both that Jeff may have had a serious addiction, either to uppers or heroin, and was obsessed with you. For months, if not a full year, he would call your parents' home and say, "Helloooo!" in a stupid voice. I have no idea why he did this, but it didn't mark him as socially adroit, though I assume that he thought otherwise. I can leave you to ponder how he learned your phone number, but it was not from you.

Also, I do see what you are getting at with this sentence. JB advised Kate away from committed love, then fell to it herself. These things happen.

Jeff, JB's boyfriend, was ranting about numerous things. I had to attack in kind when he started insulting me because I was Pagan (his ex-roommate is an ex-Pagan whom I rather dislike).

Yes, one of those collegiate bores who mistake being oppositional with being interesting.

He thought he was punk but trying to punch down is aggressively not punk.

I hold no patience with bigots and tend to think less of people who encourage them.

Are you sure you mean that? Shall I revisit the jokes Kate told your castmates?

Jeff interrupted a few times because heaven forbid two people try to hold a relatively intelligent conversation in the presence of the Energizer Punky without his input.

He may simply have been deeply insecure and was showing off for JB.

Then Virginia insisted that we do something tonight. We all agreed and Kate queried as to what. "Drinking!" V proclaimed.

What a shock. A college student flirting with alcoholism. No wonder you are feigning horror at this event that has never before occurred in the history of humankind.

Don't yuck their yum.

I do wish she were more integrated.

She doesn't owe you that. She gets to compartmentalize as she wishes at this point in sorting out her identity. Also, you mean that you wish the version of Kate she is around you were the Full-Time Kate. You don't want her integrated. You want her to be yours.

The former Katie was nearly mythic for how individualistic and passionate she was for life.

Do not mistake women, particularly twenty-year-old ones, with angels.

I have been told that there are many years before she will "be Katie" again and that she will likely fuck herself up before then.

Did I tell you this? It seems like something that I would have told you, though without blaming Kate for her journey.

I don't judge, at least I try not to, but I do show concern for those I care about.

Are you sure you don't try to judge? Are you positive about that?

I do love her. When did she stop loving me?

She loves you, dope. She isn't committed to being in love with you.

After plays to which I was dedicated and in which I was more involved, I would sometimes cry for an hour because I was not ready to let go of the play and the social dynamic it provided.

Have I mentioned that you have an actual, undiagnosed and absolutely untreated mental illness? Actually, several of them?

This is one of the symptoms. You used to start internally weeping (something that did not stay internal for long) halfway through birthday parties, basically since you were a child. If you could just accept that how you feel is not passion but pathology and seek help, how much better your life would have been.

Chris suggested that I take a picture of Zack now that he was bald (I had taken many already). I stated, "Why? He will look the same tomorrow." They all cracked up. I wasn't aware I had said anything particularly funny but Mike explained, "That's what makes [Xen] funny, the little nuggets of wisdom."

See, you are capable of being both funny and wise. You just have to not know you are doing it.

I was informing Zack that we needed to stop for gas as we only had 1/8 a tank. He said that was enough to get home. Suddenly we took a turn and it dropped to below empty. He said that such had happen and I whispered, "Quiet! The gas doesn't know that!" He laughed quite a bit over that.

That is genuinely a little funny.

Zack said he wanted a girl who would be impressed that [a spider building a web in my fingers] was occurring and I wholeheartedly concurred. Most would think it was "icky," which is greatly a shame.

I don't think your next girlfriend would be bothered by that.

So, the lesson is: be careful what you wish for.

In all, Peter the Spider (I named him Peter after Peter Parker, the secret identity of Spiderman)

I assure you, even then, almost no one in America didn't know Spider-Man's real name.

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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.