Good Monday morning. Yes it is. I continue to amaze myself with my incredible emotional strength these days. Maybe it is because reality and rightness are finally becoming a part of my life. I wouldn't know, because I have yet to feel these things simultaneously, but it just may be close to how I feel today. At the risk of putting myself through the breakdown that I should have had Friday night, I will relive it here just to see if I can, again, make it through.

It started as I was sitting on my couch with a Vodka Sour, waiting for the arrival of my cousin, Christie, for our night out. As I was watching "Amazing Police Videos" I was suddently overcome with the ever-familiar emotion, you know, the one that grabs your heart by both sides and stretches is out towards your shoulders like silly putty. And simultaneous with this feeling, the tears appeared in my eyes out of nowhere. Not the kind that run down your face, but the kind that sit there in your eyes, blurring your vision until you either wipe them away or they dry, whatever comes first. I should have recognized this as some sort of portent of the upcoming evening because I ended up being placed in a couple of what could have been very emotionally damaging and volitile situations as the night wore on. First, when we ended up at a Ten Cent Pistols show (you remember Loren). Last time I spoke with Mr. Loren he said he'd call me "tomorrow". That was about three weeks ago. There's no doubt that he digs me in his own way and I instinctivly know that the fact that he didn't call is nothing personal against me. He's just being himself and living with whatever fears and insecurities that he possesses and that I do not understand. It's his reality, not mine and, quite frankly, probably not real compatible with mine. So I was able to have much fun, not needing to be noticed by him, but when, for a few moments, he did, I could just appreciate that for what it was. Good for the girl! So after the show (and a lot more vodka), we did some serious dancing at Mickey's with a bunch of 21-year-olds. It was as eventful as I should have been I guess. When we finally left, I was just drunk enough to bravely follow Christie and Jen into Sandy's, even though my intuition told me that Lathen may be there. Guess what, I was right. As he approached our table, I must say I barely recognized him. At first, I tried really hard to be a bitch, but when it was apparent that he was not doing very well, I quickly ended that charade. I didn't want to be a bitch to him. And as he walked away from our table, I could do nothing but place my head down on the table and sob. We must have been quite a sight in that crowded bar, me sobbing away with Christie and Jen patting my back and stroking my hair. When I finally looked up, I laughed to ease the tension and excused myself with the pretense of going to the ladies room, but really needing a little more time with Lathen. We did sit together for awhile. I don't really remember what was said, but he seems to be having some trouble in his personal life and his choices. He asked me if there was any hope for us, for which I could not honestly reply. Why? Because deep down, I knew what he wanted me to say, but I didn't want to hurt him. He has so much work to do. I've finally realized it's too much for me to have to deal with. All I can do is pray he finds it in himself to reach his potential. If he could only see all the potential he has and have the courage to become. Seeing him made me very, very sad. Oh, and I lost my keys....

I was rewarded for my poignant Friday by quite the wonderful Saturday. I accompanied Mike to the Sport Show in Omaha on his quest for the perfect boat. After jumping on a couple pontoons, personally, I am convinced that these may be essential to a happy life, but I think he's still set on one of the regular boats. (aren't I fluent in vessel-talk!) I also enjoyed checking out the big RVs. We had so much fun with that, I can't even explain it. In fact, we had fun in all aspects of the outing. We thereafter hung out at The Dubliner, which is a really great Irish Pub. One of my new favorite places, in fact. Then to Mama's for some Pizza-Pie. Even though I was simply exhausted at this point, I still enjoyed driving through the neighborhood where Mike grew up and one last drink at The Grover Inn (I think that's the correct name), where I felt like I was back in my hometown bar. We dedicated songs to each other on the juke box and won $72 at Keno, so the day was pretty much perfect. We then headed home, stopping at C.Leigh's for my spare keys, and, finally, sleep!!!

Wow, I did better than I thought I would reliving this traumatic-heartrending-pleasurable weekend. I think it may be impossible to use all three of those words in the same sentence, but I'm finding that nothing, really, is impossible. absorb.