I still haven't been feeling well, over the past week.  Not sure of the reason, but I haven't been to up for doing much.  Friday night, for example, I joined ladyluck and her posse for drinks and lunacy... but ended up leaving before midnight.  I felt kinda bad, because (in partyworld) that's like leaving a movie halfway through.

One of my D&D pals was in town over the weekend, and we hung out together Saturday night.  Deciding to go out for pizza, we drove to a place called Fat Duck's, which (so I was assured by ... someone ... can't recall whom) allegedly had authentic NY style pizza.

All I can say is that if this person thought their pies were NY style... they've never had NY style pizza.

After this, we dropped by the Smith Gallery (it being Second Saturday), where our friend Kevin was doing another bodypainting thing.  We got there after it was all said and done, but still got to see him and other friends.

It was great to see Lilith again.  Been a while.  She says her schedule will ease up soon and we'll finally be able to do our mead tasting night.

There was a post-event get-together at the artist's house, and I wanted to go.  But again, I began to feel ill, so I went home instead. 

The pizza may have been mediocre, but any night I get to see two cute girls wearing nothing but paint is a good night.

Speaking of cute girls...  Last month, there was a new student in one of my classes.  She came in the room and in my head, I said, "Oh, hell no.  Get right outta here.  You're going to be far too much of a distraction." 

Naturally, she sat right in the front row.

And naturally, she proved to be not only very, very attractive, but also intelligent, articulate, and with a great sense of humor.  Meaning, she laughed at all my jokes.  And not just courtesy chuckles, either.

And naturally, quite happily married.

In the intervening weeks, I assumed (hoped) I'd made her out to be more "all that" than she really was.  But then last week, she showed up for another class.

Naturally, my hopes were in vain.  She's all that.

But at least this time she had the decency (through arriving late) of sitting at the back of the room.

Yesterday my friend Brent calls me up and says, "I've got another question for you.  You wanna go see the Rolling Stones?  They're in Atlantic City the night before Cooper."

Now, the Stones have never been one of my top favorite bands of all time, nor are they a group I'd be inclined to go see.  But hey... what a weekend that would make, huh?  The Stones and Cooper.  Wow.  So I said, "Sure!" 

Good thing I didn't get too worked up about it.  The only tickets remaining for that show were $450 each.  So that would be a "no" to the show.  Actually, it's a big laugh and "fuck no!"  I wouldn't spend that kind of money for any concert... unless half the Beatles weren't dead and they were doing a reunion show.  Then I'd do it.  But that's about it.

Last night, I was on the suicide lines again.  It was a pretty rough night, with about eight serious calls.  It was my final night as a trainee, and the guy who was there monitoring me said I did a fantastic job on all of them, including one that he said would've freaked him out.

It was an interesting call.  The fellow was diagnosed with oppositional/defiant disorder and with psychopathic tenedencies.  Very, very strange for someone like that to call in the first place.  I won't say more than that, but it was a pretty tense one.

With normal calls... and yeah, even that one was one I consider normal... I'm pretty fine with handling them.  But I've had some anxiety about the day when I'll have to do a trace.  Or fill out a report for Protective Services.  Most people who call suicide lines, after all, are looking for help.  And help is something I'm happy to give.  But when someone calls and has already ingested the pills, for example... that's where it gets dicey.  And I'm not looking forward to seeing how I'll handle that sort of crisis.

But last week, two people close to me had people close to them commit suicide.  Within a day of each other, in fact.  And seeing how these lives, so carelessly tossed aside, have torn others apart...  Well, it makes me glad I'm doing what I'm doing, despite the anxiety.

I didn't get out of there until well after midnight, and just felt like talking on the phone to someone who wasn't considering suicide.  So I called Luke and Lisa in Hawaii.  It was nice to hear their voices, albeit through a speaker phone on their end.  They're both doing well, and only had minor shake-up with the recent earthquake there.  A few pieces of broken glassware is all.

I really miss them.  Time and distance have, of course, lessened the closeness we'd developed at the poly conference earlier this year.  But the memory of spending time with them still makes me smile.

So over the past several days, I've come to realize I'm missing two shirts.  Two of my favorite shirts, of course.  Initially, I only realized the black one was unaccounted for, and figured maybe it was lying on the floor in the closet or something.  The idea that someone might've stolen it from the wash briefly entered my head, but I don't think that's what happened.

Then yesterday, I realized the green one was missing, too.  And I've checked the floors of both the closet where my shirts hang and the closet where the dirty clothes hamper is.  Nothing.

So that leads me to believe that, somehow, I left them in Lake Tahoe when I was on vacation there.  I could've sworn I'd worn them both since coming back, but maybe I haven't.

I could blame it on gremlins, I suppose.  But maybe I just spaced when I was packing up to return home, even though that was over a month ago.

I know I need to improve my wardrobe, but dammit, if I had to leave two shirts behind, I wish it could've been a couple I didn't like so much.