1 July, 1998

Tiff

I had another one of those beautiful morning experiences today. The sun was slowly turning the sky pink before the blue and the air was filled with bird song and the sounds of people waking up and going to work. There was a little breeze and the light was ... well the light was special, gentle and blue and pink and green all at the same time. You could bathe in that light and feel whole again. Really.

Conversations through e-mail have been surprising me with the degree of mundane and strange which inhabit them. They're either the epitome of normal or exceedingly strange. It makes me wonder sometimes about this whole "connecting with humanity" thing. Yes that's still the point and a worthy goal. But sometimes I think that there are in fact people out there that I'd rather not connect with. Because sometimes people can be scary. See ... now watch everyone I've exchanged e-mail with in the past few days examine themselves to see if it's them I'm talking about.

Heh. I'm evil.

Sabs and I had a smallish tiff last night. He was being a jerk, I was being impatient. He came home and had some bowel complaints so didn't start on dinner right away, perfectly resonable, so I finished making the fruit mix for the pie I was going to make. I put the ingredients for the crust into a bowl and came in here, to the computer room to sit and read my e-mail while I mushed the shortening into the flour and found him sitting here playing one of his battle games.

I asked him what he thought he was doing -- I thought he was still in the bathroom see and was very surprised to find him in there. "Sorry, he says, sorry" and that's all. I asked him again what he wanted for dinner "Oh I dunno" without even taking his eyes off the screen. At that point I folded my lips and walked out. I finished the pie and put it in the oven and sulked.

I mean, here I am making him a pie for chrissakes and he can't even tell me if he wants pork or chicken for dinner. So I got mad and sulked on the couch while listening to a new CD. And I fell asleep. I woke up vaguely 45 minutes later and smelt the pie, so I took it out. It was all dark throughout the apartment, except for the light from the computer room. Another wave of anger surged up in my gut and I went back to sulking. I fell asleep again. About an hour later he came out. It was now almost full dark and neither one of us had eaten yet. He put his head down next to mine on the pillow "I'm sorry" he whispers softly in the dark. "It's okay" I whisper back and hug him tight.

We went out for dinner at the Silverado, the way we always do when we don't manage to be organized enough to make dinner. We have a good talk and pretend that the evening was only just starting anyway. It feels better that way and we do not go to bed angry.