There is an anxiety. Perhaps it could be more accurately described as melancholy, but I've been drinking this cup of coffee. I'm listening to the Beach Boys' Pet Sounds, Wouldn't It Be Nice? I have to move today. I have no car. I have to be at work. You see, I've been what most psychologists would call "depressed" for the past seven months or so. Maybe it's been longer; I don't really feel like counting. And now, things are coming together. There's Lee. There's the new place. There's the band. But there's so much farther to go. A month ago, I was 100% certain that I needed to be back in Madison, and now I'm doubting myself. Four months ago, I landed on my parents' doorstep, an emotional wreck, nearly destroyed by the circumstances of my life. Without a doubt, I'm much better now than I was then, but I can't help but be nagged with the feeling that if one of the scaffolds quickly dissolves, I'll collapse again. I already know I'm emotionally investing too much in Lee, but how can you say no to what you feel? It's not as though I'm going to declare any burning love that consumes me; I recognize that we just don't know each other that well. But we do share a certain sparkle. Someone just tell me I'm worrying too much, because I am. I get it from my dad. So I'll keep on working, singing wouldn't it be nice; but it's already so nice. In another year, I will look back on these moments and be nostalgic - I know it already. The future can be such a curse sometimes.


interrobang and I are having a party on Saturday night. I will be unpacked by then. If you are in Madison on Thursday, and have nothing to do, contact me and you could help me move. I pay in gratitude, which can be exchanged for beer.


I've been swamped with work, and away from regular 'net connections, so I'm falling far behind in this record. But I got up that thing about Ramanujan, who I'm fascinated with, and I'm at least even with the current at work, so I feel no guilt in posting this. I've got what I guess you could call a girlfriend, it happened over the weekend. I attended a small barbecue (which did seem a bit contrived - I'm looking at you, interrobang), and she was there, and the chemistry was right. Even so, I felt like a big dork, because that's just how I feel in those small, intimate encounters when I'm into someone and haven't the backbone to say anything about it. But I drank a lot, and following several malt liquors, bottled Hubers, and glasses of port, I confessed that I'd had a crush on her since I met her two years ago - when she lived with my sister. There have been a lot of problems in my life over the past year. Some of them will continue to dog me, and I cannot back down from these. But this is such a bright spot. It's not even been 48 hours, and I'm smiling all over. Here's to mango smoothies.