May 23, 1997
I got the condo!!! Sarah said yes, she would rent to me, and at a price low enough that I can go it without a roommate! Celebrate, good times, come on! Lance-kitty, you and mama are moving on up!
Went out to the school today. Principal Gottleib is a freak. But most principals are. Hell, can anyone work in a public school system for twenty years and not be crazy? Probably not. Anyway, I am already planning my decor for my classrooms, including a banner that says Abandon All Hope Ye Who Enter Here, and a rubber chicken named Skippy. I must have my space as I like. Also met Aaron Fraiser, the ap history teacher down the hall. FOXY! WHOOHOO! Odd, though. He seems familiar, too. Where have I seen those eyes before...
Saturday and Sunday
May 24 and 25, 1997
I still don't know where my bartender is. Maybe he left without saying goodbye. Sniff.
I actually spoke a few civil words to Malcolm today (Sun). Or do I call him Michael now? Michael...Malcolm...ah who gives a shit anyway. He looked good. Damn good. And it drove me absolutely bats the way he looked at me. I've been waiting all my life for someone to look at me like that, and now someone is, and he's attractive, intelligent, and warm. He's also a pathological liar. WAAAAH! It's not fucking fair! The thing is, I could tumble so head over heels in love with the new and improved model that it isn't funny. If I wasn't so suspicious. Anyway.
What a fucking pig of a day. To recap briefly, I went to see Liz, her ex showed up, and a brawl ensued. I got a black eye for my trouble, Lizzie passed out, and Peter, her new man, probably has a lot of bruises on his belly. Malcolm came and saved the day. I was set up! I found this out just tonight. Anders, the little shit, decided that Mal and I were star-crossed lovers and it was all just too romantic, and he sent Mal over to Liz's place where I would have to be nice to him. Later, though, after all was done, it was strange. I started blubbering in the waiting room lobby and Malcolm cuddled me some, told me it was going to be all right. And, like a patsy, I snuggled right into his big strong arms. No, no, no. That's not how it went. When he did hug me, he did it really slow, like he was afraid I was going to claw his eyes out. Which I might have, had I been thinking. He told me that he liked my hair, and that he had missed me a lot. He also said that he was really sorry for what happened, all of it. I didn't know what to say, so for once I kept my mouth shut. But I did let him hold me. He wound up driving me home, but I wouldn't let him come in my apartment. I'm so confused. I'll probably wind up ducking him for the rest of the week. I wish I could believe him. I'd like to believe him. But I can't. Not yet. And right now I'd like nothing more than to run downstairs and throw myself into his arms again. But damn if I'm going to do it. I have my pride, after all.
May 27 1997
Bessa says that I'm being unrealistic in my expectations of relationships. Fairy-tales don't exist, says she. Bullshit, Madame Bessa, fairy-tales are where you make them. If I'm going to chain myself to one man for fifty years, he'd damn well better be a fairy tale prince. Or at least be pretty special. Yes, the secret is out. I am a closet romantic! There, I said it. Done.
My bartender still isn't around. Maybe he died? Moved to Pago-Pago? Took my beer with him, probably.
Lancelot is going in to the vet's tomorrow. Off with his male chromosome reproduction producers. Poor kid.
Jonny's totally infatuated with Greg. It's going good. Greg sent him roses after their date. I should know. They're in my apartment.
May 28, 1997
Mom called today. She got into London all right. Her and Thaddeus the Twink are at home. Grandma is still horrified by the revelations of last week, but everyone else is recovering nicely. Indeed, nothing much seems to have changed save the fact that Dad has been a much more attentive father lately. He took Jonny shopping for a car--that was his high school graduation present--and afterwards they went out and saw a movie. Talked more about things than in the last three years, Jonny said. And I'm cooking dinner for Dad tomorrow night. He's loosened up a lot. It makes me wonder if he's just found out he has a terminal illness or something. Something's about to change in the family, I have a feeling. Not as major as Gavin's parentage, but still major.