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Saturday, February 21, 2004

One night I had a little thing at my house. I invited a few people over. A friend asked if she could bring another friend.

"The more the merrier," said I.

Half an hour before everyone was to arrive, she phones me to say she has a bad cold and she can't make it. But her friend would still be coming. You see, he'd left the house already. He had no cell phone. There was no way to reach him now and make him go back.

I growled at my friend and she succumbed. She did indeed have a cold so I excused her to leave after an hour. The friend stayed.

Last night she suddenly remembered that he thought we were being set up.

My lonesome life was moving along nicely prior to this. Work, home, feed hamster, read book, write blog, sleep, work, home, feed hamster, read book, write blog, sleep. A never-varying cycle. I amputated all extraneous emotion from my life. Survival as an automaton was surprisingly comfortable. I have roughly lived out half my life and I thought that I might be able to carry on the latter half completely devoid of all feeling. Maybe I could not care that I am a complete failure at everything I do.

Then, even with my male moratorium in place, keeping company solely with rodents and human females, avoiding all public spaces, staring only ever straight ahead of me - I still manage to get rejected.

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