Something more to transcribe before it becomes any dimmer.

A week back, on friday, I went to visit Hillary. It'd been especially stressful that day. The APA fellowship demanded everything be in on the 15th. I had two days, and only one chance to ship it out next day mail.

I went through the two essays again, changed a few minutiae, the titles, found some spare grey envelopes around the lab, and then finally put all of the materials together--slowly, methodically, double-checking that everything was filled out correctly. In amidst all of this, Hillary texted me on occasion. She'd wanted to meet extremely early again, around 1:30. I'd told her the earliest would be 3:00-3:30pm or so. Unfortunately I'd had an extended introductory meeting with Ben, the abnormal psych prof I TA for now. A pleasant, frail man granted, but that left very little to no time for final checking. To make things more complicated, there was a 15 minute span where Hillary wavered about me coming over. It made very little sense: I could or couldn't come, my choice; if I did come she wouldn't be miss entertainment hostess; then emoted pouting along with asking me to come.

Near the post office, I checked things one more time. My second essay had an old title on it. I was already 30 minutes late past when I'd say I'd see Hillary. I figured a fucking title that was redundant with the title of the other essay wouldn't matter much. The line took surprisingly much longer than I thought, but the clerk looked at the stuff and wished me good luck.

And so then I jogged and lightly ran. A few texts about me possibly needing to meet her at her parent's place, 10 minutes, and I was in my car. The plans were no longer hanging out at my place (with me picking her up), but to head to her family's for friday night pizza.

I'd eaten and socialized with them before on Thanksgiving, so I thought it'd be pretty cool.

In my rush to leave, I nearly cracked one of Hillary's belated christmas gifts: a framed version of Tungsten Falls 01. But it survived, the car survived, and when I arrived everything seemed chill. Oddly chill. But then maybe I'd read too much urgency in the texts. I'm terrible at reading her without a voice and face to guide me.

She can attest to that.

Lips first, then teeth, maybe? A guy can try.

I'd slipped over wanting to kiss her hello, but then sensed that wouldn't be a good idea. Sure enough, Sven was upstairs. We bantered for 15 seconds before he asked me if taking a shit was a favored hobby of mine. Then he went. Odd man sometimes, but I like him.

We headed over in separate cars in case I wanted to leave early.

From 5:30pm to 1:00am, then, I hung out with Hillary, Sven, and her (by my standards) large family.

I don't know if I ever introduced them before, but I can start with the people there.

Belch is the sister most like Hillary, I think. They trade facial and manneristic secrets. They also lovingly (or not so much) give each other shit more or less most of the time. Belch is Belch because she occasionally just lets one rip; quite funny given the regal beauty thing that runs in the family. And after the thunder dies down, Hill is more or less obligated to say Belch's belch is disgusting or gross. And Belch says she's fat or a bitch or something.

I'm an only child, it fascinates me.

Sean Connery (we'll leave it at Sean) is the only brother. He and his friend bantered back and forth on many occasions about many things. Sometimes I understood, sometimes I really didn't. He seems to have my tendency to make light of things for the sake of amusement. Seeing this I'd offer this comment or that, to which he good naturedly offered feedback or rebuttal on. Quite a conversationalist. He's Sean Connery because his vocal pitch and inflection are damn close to, well, Sean Connery.

Mr. P is quiet, thoughtful, and doesn't say much. Mrs. P is exuberant, smiles often, and seems to like/tolerate me the most out of the bunch. She'd unfortunately twisted her ankle that evening and was mostly out of commission.

And rounding out the family is Lucidity. The youngest of them all, she's also somewhat different in that she chooses the right time to speak and not before or after. It could also be shyness, but her mannerisms and how she pays attention doesn't fit with that.

There were also a handful of friends there, including Justine. Justin by day, Hillary had renamed the guy in the feminine for some reason. I'd learn later on that he was rather fragile emotionally, and had some feminine qualities about him. She does give names well; I'm still terribly fond of mine, even if I rarely live up to its meaning.

The first 6 hours were fantastic. I felt like I was in a home. It had that glow about things. Half the time I'd sneak in a comment or two about the current topic, and the other I'd sit back and listen. I felt wonderfully at peace and happy. There was something refreshing and neat about the bare-knuckles jibing and teasing, the stories, and the laughter.

Hillary later on told me that I'd done the quiet thing again, but actually Nick mostly kept things going. That and I didn't want to appear rude and plow through conversation like a bull, or potentially go out of bounds. One moment was when Hillary made the comment that I tried to joke a lot but that I sucked at it, or that I wasn't funny. So I said the first thing that came to mind, instead of just being polite.

"Yeah, and you can be a bitch sometimes." I didn't say it mockingly, or sweetly, or jokingly. I well and truly meant it. Silence for about 2 seconds, and then Nick stepped in to say I'd recovered nicely from my previous bad joke.

It felt like breathing water when I did that.

The only other thing I noticed is that for as much as Hillary enjoys the offensive, picking up on errors or little things and playfully jibing people about it (and in truth just being a self-professed bitch sometimes), she gets kinda quiet when others do it to her. It's something I've noticed before. I tried studying her face to see what was going on after a few of the better put-downs or jibs. And so I saw that she does supplicate, and perhaps at some point is hoping the first strike worked. It's that quietness and the impression of fragility I get that keep my jibing either neutral or gentle, I think, to where I can push back when she does--but not hard or just hard enough.

Stupid as it sounds I feel like I want to protect her sometimes from feeling like that. I'd never say it, but I do.

After awhile, people went their separate ways to work on a computer fan, help Belch do her hair, or whatever other activities. Hill and I talked about stuff related to me, her putting her feet in my lap and giving me that 'I want to push you but in a playful way' smile. I think we were talking about awkwardness or strength or something else I needed to work on. For whatever reason, I made it clear that I didn't like playing games for the sake of playing games. In this case I meant the constant testing, where she'd offer up a new obstacle and stand back while I tackled it. I kept her eye the whole time I said it. She'd later say with a smile that I'd gotten kinda pissed at her at that point. In actuality, I'd momentarily gotten sick of our tendency as a culture to try to play dominate each other when the opportunity arose, for its own sake. I don't understand why, but I'm willing to learn with her help.

I make it sound like I hated talking with her, though. Besides expressing a little frustration and pain, it was good. I really enjoy being around her.

But to get back on track, I'm not used to talking with that many people for that long, though, and I got tired in the last few hours. She didn't say anything at the time, but close to a week later I learned Hillary took this personally, on the levels that: 1) she felt she needed to always keep me entertained; 2) I must have hated her family. I had to drag the latter out, but I did. I'd thought about going when I got tired, but I wanted to see if I got a second wind or if Hill and I would get another tete-a-tete talking deal going. She didn't believe me when I told her I'd had a great time for the most part, that I really liked her family, etc. I think she eventually did, though, or she just dropped it like she does with subjects she doesn't like.

We're stubborn, we clash, we make up while still saving face. It's the American Dream.

I'm getting off topic again.

Around 1am I was really, really tired. I said goodbye to Hill and Sven, got in my car, headed over back toward the right road to take me near the capital...and accidentally turned the opposite way.

Pretty soon I was in the country, blowing past small hills and isolated homes and farmsteads. It all reminded me of Topanga Canyon. For a couple of minutes I felt like I was back home. Then I realized I was in Wisconsin. I began thinking about Hillary, her family, and how warm and inviting and, well, familyish it all seemed. I missed it.

And there I was again, alone on an open two lane road, like years and years before--stretching off into the distance, where everywhere is lost in space. My secret heroin. Hate the sinner, but love the sin. High on Highway 51.

Eventually I turned around and went toward downtown. My bed was already fast asleep.

I saw Hill unexpectedly that same weekend, involving an incident I can't talk about. She's got an exam on monday, but sometime thereafter we'll hang out.

As for me, I partied a little this weekend (which I'll try to cover AFTER covering Detroit), saw Underworld 2 today, and did a good amount of work. I want to polish off yet another application for money and my seminar reading tomorrow.

Oh, on a random note: I got a piece of mail telling me I've been 'nominated' to be on 'The Chancellor's List.' Hell if I know, but at least it's not a credit card offer.

No more climatic battles with demons in Detroit this week, sorry.

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