The only wind-music that isn't grating is Placebo, and even then only a select few. I'm stuck in an emotional response and need to process it fully.

I haven't a wit of motivation to study after the errands I've run, so I'm sojourning to relaxation at my apartment. Katie may call. I'll then head over to Barriques, I'll get her doctor's note to say getting a medical incomplete is kosher, then head back to my apartment. Maybe thereafter we can socialization as normal people instead of the otherwise kabuki circumstances.

Speaking of which, I owe you a story...

It was my office hours, some 3 weeks ago, and I was to see a student about arranging a make-up. I'd already helped another student with something, and it looked like no one was coming.

And in she came, sitting down looking alert and pleasantly nervous. Her eyes were lighted up in that curious way, like the cast of intelligence but affected by some something else. In talking about arrangements, I asked about her medical reason. She has bipolar, as I mentioned. That lead to me talk about the cyclothymia I used to have, or what seemed like it anyway. She listened with this almost painfully empathic expression. And so we went back and forth. I even mentioned my occasional fetish for trying to make myself sad, in order to feel some tangible emotional response. She said I should never do anything of the sort again.

I like my mental cigarettes, however.

In short order my office hours were over. We decided to head over to a gazebo-ish area on campus, to sit and talk. She had an impressive amount of insight and thoughtfulness. She noted a lot of things, like my tendency to over-explain things. I'd described it like needing to have a theatrical backdrop for a performance. She had the notion that people automatically create such a backdrop in their heads, that all of the detail isn't expressly necessary. We also got into a debate about whether you're always bound to make people suffer the way you've suffered. I repeatedly stood my ground and said no, it wasn't necessary. Somewhere beforehand she'd slipped off my glasses and smiled about this.

"Well then, my dear, you must be simply superhuman," she playfully said in a drawn-out fashion.

Her thought patterns were a bit like a new dialect, the same sort of writerly bed of fallen leaves that only makes sense as they land on the ground, with some substance still assigned in mid-air.

She periodically lit into cigarettes, the wind dusting most attempts to light them. She had to keep running to an alcove and back. We decided as it got later to walk toward the capital and find coffee. We ended up at ER, drank and talked, then walked around the capital and on toward an observatory point over one of the lakes--one of those windingly majestic deals with a concrete summit. I hadn't been to the place during the day. It struck both of us that the place had a sci-fi feel, like you'd expect the original Star Trek crew and some robed human alien guys to start exchanging lines suddenly. I stared out over the lake and around. She kinda did likewise but accosted some worker types for a light. Nothing. It occurred to me outside bathrooms should have some lighting device on the outside. She concurred.

We spent awhile on the steps of the capital looking at shots of mine. My laptop holds no charge nowadays, but it sufficed. She really enjoyed "Welcome Home" (the burnt-out brick house one) and some other Detroit ones. After that we walked to her apartment complex, where we made plans to do dinner. We met back at ER--the best landmark we could think of--about an hour later. I'd misunderstood the time delay part, though, so I'd spent awhile going to this location and that to see if I'd misremembered where to meet her.

But meet we did and the food thing was done. I decided on the Italian place over at University Square (now sadly slatted for demolition). The wood panels and setting were intimately appointed with minimal lighting. I ate raviolli and she stole some of my bread. Here's where our conversation tended toward the strange. Somehow we got onto the subject of extra-planar/dimensional whatnot. She took on quite a serious tone in talking about it, and how dealing with any of that was not to be done. Her example was a mouse suddenly jumping onto our table and talking to us, where the mouse would essentially gain nothing and risk much by associating outside its natural environment. I countered with the notion of expanding consciousness. She wouldn't buy it. That did make things slightly awkward for awhile, or perhaps it built.

Afterward we thought, hey, why not get a drink someplace? I had to get up to do an MRI scan at 6:30 or some God awful time, but I couldn't resist. And so we talked more over meade at Brocach. Here again she seemed tentative or not quite comfortable. At one point she mentioned something about my having "commitment problems," trying to explain but the explanation passing over my head. While talking she asked if she'd rubbed me the wrong way or pissed me off. I was surprised but said no, and I asked if she were ok. She was thinking and paying attention to stuff. At one point she looked displeased and mentioned something about not feeling comfortable anymore.

The final bit was sitting on some oddly shaped artsy block things near the capital. She seemed more relaxed again. Unfortunately I had to cut things short, or else we probably would've stayed out all night.

In all I'd been happy for most of the day, and that's a rare thing.

Since then we've only sporadically talked or met, basically to handle these medical notes. She decided and I agreed that leaving personal stuff aside until classes ended was a good idea.

* * *

But it seems like whenever I finally let go and start enjoying things, I fuck up.

It ended up being that I completely forgot about an injection I was supposed to observe at 8pm that night. I also wasn't with it to help with getting the MRI monkey out...which I wasn't prepared for since she kinda sorta told me I didn't have to help get it out. She fucked that little job up but good almost. And I want to rat the bitch out. My reason being:

I'd learned she, my collaborator, tattled to our advisor about missing the 8pm observational thing I'd said I'd come to. Suddenly her earlier "oh it's ok" tone took on a more sinister meaning. She feels threatened and is being a twit. For example, I recently learned that because I want to go to North Carolina to talk shop with our collaborators, she feels "slightly encroached upon." Like I'm doing her project but with some minor adjustments is the feeling I get. I've tried emphasizing how it's not. I use some similar techniques, she's showing me these techniques, but my emphasis is different, my questions are different, and I want to look at different things. It kinda sinks through sometimes, but she's been very possessive and bossy over things. Her latest was saying that if I wanted to meet with these guys, we should go down together because she'd spent a lot of time working up a repoire with these guys and blah blah blah. Nevermind that, this past thursday, one of the neuroimaging dudes came to our lab, gave a talk on DTI, fielded a lot of my questions during and afterward, and OFFERED me the opportunity to go down there for a week.

I don't know what the fuck my collaborator's problem is. Regardless, if she's willing to tattle about every last thing I do wrong, then honey, my kid gloves and peer courtesy are coming off.

I'm this close to starting a cold war with her. I already feel betrayed since there was absolutely no point in telling my advisor about some things. I'd liked her. Too bad she fucked with me, really. Above all it just hurts that she purposefully tried to undermine me while putting on airs of being friendly. I'd actually thought she was a friend (kinda sorta) until recently. No more.

Additional bits to follow.

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