8-4-00 (8:29 a.m.) Hmmm...It's been a while, and It is a rarity to see that kind of a timestamp. I know most/many of them have an a.m. stamp...but usually it's a number less than 5. Enough boring details...moving on into my life...oh boy ; ). Um...let's see where did I leave you? Hanging I'm sure. The main person I expect to find this is well...Nikki...and she already knows most of what's about to be said, although when Erin asked, I told her I would eventually return to the journal writing. I'm sure that whenever Nikki gets around to finding this that I'll hear...something...'cause she still thinks I'm not going to keep a journal, and I think maybe I ought to get a little headstart on my readership...I'll probably end up telling her if she doesn't find it...but for now it's just me 'cause I expect it to take a while before anyone comes looking. So, what am I changing in the "new" journal? Well a lot and nothing at all. Any difference you see will probably be a change in me, not my journal. The only major change I plan, is to write it for me, not looking for someone else's approval. Half of the old journal was for my own edification, and to allow nosey people a look into my life...but another major goal was an attempt to bridge the gap between Kate and myself. We weren't the best for communication, as I think I've mentioned, and I was hoping this would at least decrease the lack of communication from my end. Ooops, but maybe it was for the best. The breakup came at a time when I really wasn't prepared to handle it. I won't get into details, but if you want 'em you know where I live (or at least my e-mail). I spent a lot of time staring into space, and a lot of time pretending to be OK before I was actually OK. I suspect I'm still not fully recovered, but I think the worst of it's behind me. I know the worst of it's behind me. What made it bad, was not so much the worst timing possible, but that she didn't just come out and say..."this isn't working, I'm sorry"...she gave a bunch of "excuses" (I think she might've called them reasons), including the impression she got from my journal. So, I blamed the journal, I blamed the distance, I blamed myself...I quit my journal, I kept my distance, and tried to figure out what to do with myself. That last part ended up being something like this: pass physics, get ready for orientation, and try to find out what the hell the SITE program was doing. Ironically, Kate was in my first Orientation group, and Cameron was in my last...kind of fitting I think. The Kate part of orientation turned out to be kind of uneventful. She missed most of the meetings for various legitimate reasons, and the ones she was at...she kind of annoyed me. That was kind of step one for me to stop fooling myself. The other steps followed quickly, like dominoes. It's time and perspective, basically. I think I told a lot of people that, and well I was right. I think the "final" step was really when I stopped listening to "common as the rain" and thinking "I wish that were true" and started saying "he's got a point there". The realization that "we" just weren't going to work out for every reason and no reason at all and "just because", allowed me to move on. Not completely of course...to move on completely is to lose part of yourself, but to merely make that aspect of yourself less active than the rest of it. When I moved "the box" that Kate gave me between rooms, I almost cried. I didn't dare read the letter, but it's still there. A box that's always seemed to be mostly empty turns out to be full of memories. Good memories? Great memories. Bad memories? Terrible. That box holds a segment of my life, so it has to match the rest of life. It holds the best, it holds the worst, and it's bigger than it looks. So, what about my life outside of the box? You thought I'd never get that far, didn't you? In a move that failed to surprise all sorts of people, Nikki and I started dating. I could say all sorts of stuff on this topic, including how, why, when, and a bunch of reasons why we're both happy. I think it's the best, and healthiest relationship either of us has been in (yeah, I know my records pretty short, but just shut up will ya?). But I'm not going to put any of that stuff here, at least not right now. Thoughts are bigger than words, and the words that prevent thoughts from being too small can only be expressed one-on-one, and are best in person. I may eventually put some semblance of these details here...but for now, suffice it to say it's wonderful. The SITE program (Student Introduction To Engineering) was a disaster. My part of it shaped up kind of quickly, but the program itself well...they'll have to pay me much more if they want me to be a part of it next year...translation: I better find a different job 'cause they ain't gonna be payin' me. It took me until roughly a week before the program to have any idea what I was supposed to be organizing. I thought all along they wanted me to organize it, which is why I nagged for details. Turns out, they found a grad student to organize, and never discussed pay, but were still counting on her to have a program, when they never really talked to her. I e-mailed her, and she said "I've done nothing, and I can't do the job". So, considering the restraints, it wasn't too terrible a program. I taught them to make webpages, showed them some cool stuff, and sent them home. The first session was a disaster, but the following sessions worked much better. I got an assistant after I really needed him, and I really didn't like his style...he mostly had them watching animations people had done...when he actually had them do projects, it was much better. He had his good days, but he had a lot of aimless days, and he often lost their attention by letting them surf the web for "a few minutes". Anyways, I survived, and got paid $100 dollars a day, 3 days a week, plus room & board. Not bad for showing people how to make webpages, watching animations, and checking e-mail. I survived, and then went home w/ Nikki for a day, met "the parents", and am currently at home...heading out this morning, for a lengthy bus ride back to Chapel Hill...I'm leaving out all sorts of details, of course, but I feel I've written enough for a return to writing. When's the next one? How the hell should I know?