tee hee!

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dateline: solitary

21 july 1996 8:13 p.m.

Tonight I'm going to have to settle for microwave popcorn and a tape of "Sixteen Candles" that grows fuzzier by the day. Derek and I were supposed to see "Multiplicity" (though I was leaning more towards "Stealing Beauty," which is still playing at Varsity), but his brother got in an accident today and he has to stay home to keep his mom from going hysterical. I just got off the phone with him. He was in a heavy mood, I guess, because he was very quiet. I knew he was worried; even though his brother's fine, they're keeping him at the hospital overnight as a precaution. He and Dennis are pretty close, and I told him I thought that was awesome. The way he was talking about the other scares they'd shared or the random memories of surviving puberty together (just under one year apart), he could have been an old man, weathered and mature and beyond pride and rivalry. I think it's unusual to find someone in his 20s that loves a sibling. Of course, Derek's still enough of a Guy (capital "g") to run screaming from actually using that word in relation to family. So, "we're pretty close" is about the most vulnerable of confessions you're going to get out of any twenty-something still claiming dreams of independence. He was a little prying about my family, and I felt myself backing away. I just said I've never been close to them, though I talk to my mom more since I moved out. Since he needed to do it to soothe his soul, I endured a melodramatic lecture about having to appreciate family before I lose them. Okay, I burned my popcorn. I'm just gonna eat the kaki mochi plain. And I just love this movie! I guess I gotta admit, despite having a taste for the dark and macabre (note to myself: find out when "Fargo" comes out on video), I can't deny my inner awkward geek. The weaknesses of eighties teen exploitation films aside, watching one is a guilty pleasure I allow myself once in a while (yes, I own "Say Anything" too). Kinda like Hostess Cupcakes. Anyway, Derek and I will probably rendezvous for lunch again this week. On a more horrifying note, I'm still kicking myself for my handling of the hang up. As it is, it takes about eight "goodbyes" or an equivalent statement with me before I'll actually hang up in any phone call. This time he held for a last delicious second and said, "I love talking to you." And I actually giggled. Giggled! Only then, the click. Bad scene. I cursed myself out for five minutes while doing the dishes as penance. Geez... just bleach my hair, give me some bubble gum and put me out of my misery. If I'm not careful he's going to buy me a teddy bear and a Mariah Carey CD for my birthday (22 days!).