August 1st, 2001

running, bomb tech

Reorganization, or: Why I'm Not Getting Much Sleep Tonight

We got a new chair.

This may not sound like much, but for a two-bedroom apartment with now three adults living in it, and a four year old kid, it's quite a lot, especially when you consider that none of these three adults are sleeping with each other.

The depths of the closet in the East bedroom are being plumbed. I have clothes I don't seem to remember... and seeing as I've only had this apartment for four months, if that ... and moved from another state less than a year ago, with two apartments here before that... this is truly frightening. It may perhaps be due to the fact that Dude now shares my closet, but it's still scary. I see I still have the shirt that one of my last rituals in the Campsite Apartment got hot wax all down the front of.

...and I found the ethernet card for my laptop. It was, of course, in the printer box, with all the floppies with my program files on it, where I'd put it when Sis borrowed the laptop. Naturally the best place to put it. Gee. Now, since the ethernet cable is far longer than the parallel cable, we can avoid having cables running across the walkway. This will be very good, though an interesting decorating touch, having the cable snaking up across the doorway like it is, twined in with the Christmas lights already festooning the room. The lights are hooked to the light switch, you see... it's a college dorm room, apartment-style. I'm allowed some creative license.

You see, in order to fit the chair into the apartment where it will both fit and be usable by the maximum number of people who are happy with it, one corner of the closet in the East bedroom must be cleared so that Dude may have a computer chair at the new home for his computer. This involves reorganizing the entire closet. Since it's a small room to start with, with the computers and possessions of two people starting to pack into it, this is a task and a half, especially as the vast majority of Dude's stuff is in bags and boxes and still arriving.

It's a really nifty chair, though. We call it the undshizalounger because this chair is the shiza, the whole shiza, and nothing but the shiza. Little fayoumi have big beaks, and since Mommy has enough of a pottymouth, we don't need Nephew using raw words as well, especially not when it's the name of the piece of furniture in question. It's just a cool chair. It's comfortable, it leans back, the seat has a few springs missing, but that only makes it more comfy, and ... it's brown. 'Nuff said.
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    tetris techno remix
running, bomb tech

...and you know what?

I'm going to be glowing and grinning tomorrow because of the wonderful time I had swordfighting with Darkside, and you know what?

He's going to ask if I was up late with Dave, because he knows that the only person who can make me glow and grin like that is Dave.


Dave came online, but briefly, only long enough for me to giggle to him about my afternoon. I sent him a photo of my blade, and he likes it. I'm glad.
running, bomb tech

Why I Didn't Celebrate Lammas With Darkside This Morning

I was cheerful/happy/rushing out of house when I noticed that my instant messenger had a message from Dave.

We sat down and had a long talk.

Dave made it perfectly plain to me that I was not going to be able to get away with evading a real-life relationship in favor of an online one.

If Darkside makes a move on me, Dave says, he expects me to go with Darkside. Darkside is local. He's already won. Dave says it sounds like Darkside will be making a move very, very soon.

It's very very nice that Dave, though he does care a lot about me, wants me to be happy and be with Darkside. ...the trouble is, what if I don't want to give Dave up, even for Darkside?

I went through this last time, dammit. When I first got engaged to BJ, I continued to see River, with both BJ and River knowing what was going on, until River got uncomfortable and collared BJ alone and told him to rein in his woman.

While dating River, I knew that if I ever dated BJ, it would be only because I had a stable relationship that would hold me together while I dated him. (BJ is not good for my mental state.) But what happened?

On March 14, 2000, near midnight, I suddenly realized that if I did not kiss BJ right then, I would be miserable for the rest of my life.

I had to kiss BJ so that he could drag me with him to Arizona, where I would go to DeVry and get my life back together.

I didn't know that then, of course.

When I last did a reading on the situation...

I dealt the cards out. I wrote down, in my hardcopy book, the first two cards. I wrote down in this journal. Same outcome for each guy.

I've got Econ in a few minutes. I think I have to go make an appearance to say hi to Darkside, maybe get a hug.
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    upstairs computer lab
running, bomb tech

not the end of the world after all...

Yeah, Darkside was pissed at me this morning for showing up an hour and a half late for breakfast. "Ah, so you finally decided to show up," he said in that exact tone of voice that says "I am so pissed off at you and I don't want to show it because I am very very hurt."

I did get to help him out with his Access database homework, though, which was a good thing; he needed the help. After that, I had to go out into the courtyard and get breakfast and sit by myself for a while.

It's not the end of the world. Darkside has not yet made his move; I am free to flirt with Dave online as I please. But Dave is not about to get in the way of anything I have going on with Darkside. If they were both here in the same state, in the same city, at the same school, it would be open odds on both odd parties.

I think I now have an inkling of what Darkside must have felt like when Sis and I decided to leave it up to him to decide which of us it was that he was to date. How in the world do I choose between two such worthy people? They each have their individual strengths and weaknesses.

If I had to choose one, I most likely would pick Darkside, all other things being equal. I've known Dave for longer, but I know him less well. Darkside is a known quantity, religiously. Dave isn't. Dave is a friend of the mind and heart and body. Darkside has, very carefully, very cautiously, very quietly, touched my soul.

Just... when Dave said a few of the things he said... my empathy alarms started going off. He'd far rather be in the active competition, where he'd have a chance. He's wishing me luck with Darkside, whether or not he ever gets to do anything with me, ever.

There's the very real possibility that Darkside and I, if we get together, might stay together for quite some time. Months, we should at least barely hope. Probably at least a year. Maybe more. If that happened, Dave wouldn't get a chance at me, if I were with Darkside when he returned.

Opportunity cost.

Whichever way I go, the opportunity cost is going to be monumental.

This is why polyamory looks so appealing to me. If the opportunity cost is that great, and all parties are willing and able to enter into a meeting of minds and hearts and friendships, why not make a larger family rather than a small one? Historically, extended families work out together very well; why not just make it a non-related extended family?

The trouble is getting them to share, and if they don't share of their own free will, I would just have to choose.

Dave is right. Darkside automatically wins: Darkside is here, Dave is not.

Even if Dave never gets to see me topless, never gets to hold me in his arms, never gets to pester me until I'm out of my mind.

Even then.
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running, bomb tech

Dead but dreaming.... how I have been feeling for the past few days. Darkside hasn't had enough sleep either. He was a zombie today. Somehow avoided hug-you'll-be-okay. I don't think he's ready for hugs outside of battle circumstances yet.

When I wake up, I can barely feel my cheekbones. My chin is present; my eyes are; my cheeks are almost entirely numb. I can feel the heat of my hands pressed against them, I can feel the pressure of a touch-- but not much more.

This slowly fades into consciousness and awareness as I wake, but for perhaps an hour, my face is not truly mine.

If I were to need an intelligent man of absolute honesty, I would pick my English professor, Mr. Goff. His class encourages debate. He encourages debate by supporting the opposing position of what he wishes the class to talk about, but in such a reasonable way that is simultaneously so outrageous --

Take partial birth abortion. I would have left the room had I not known this teacher's techniques, to hear his steady educated voice discussing horrors in such matter of fact terms. He uses the twists of phrase that the camp he's talking about uses, but fails to gloss over the nasty truths. For either side of the argument, no matter the argument. He stirs up debate. He stirs up hot debate. On issues that I feel quite strongly about, I just sit, interject a civil comment here and there, and otherwise hold my tongue, at the occasional cost of all blood flow to my excessively compressed lips, but still I hold my tongue.

I love that class.
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