Well, RCY practice went very smoothly last night. It seems like almost every weekend I'm making the trip back to Grand Blanc, but oddly enough I'm not minding at all. While the kids were working on "Carpe Diem," a song new to Liz and John that does not feature my patented "hackosphone," my thoughts slipped to Lindsay.

I kept rerunning through my mind that last night at Conor's, how she felt in my arms when we hugged goddbye, and how it felt when she kissed me, both as we parted and to thank me for Radio Free Wilson. "I can't breathe." It was the first time in a couple days that I'd allowed myself to be overcome by the darkness. She arrived in Berkeley on Wednesday, and the last time I spoke to her was when she called Tuesday night. So, now all I can do is wait for her to call or write from Berkeley. Of course, the dark voice in the back of my head whispers, she won't call. There's too much that's new and exciting in San Francisco, and she never really liked you anyway. I'd tell him to bugger off, but over the years that dark little bastard has been right too often to dismiss.

Fuck.

I'm going to watch A New Hope with the Mountain tonight. Last time I saw it, a couple of weeks ago, I was explaining things to Lindsay whenever she asked; so, I wasn't able to give it a close watching.