July 24, 2006 was a Monday. After two weeks of feeling kind of bummed out, I woke up feeling really good. My law school friends and I were wrapping up our summer jobs and discussing interviewing at UVA the week before we returned to classes in the fall. I had no idea where I might end up. I planned a trip with friends to Busch Gardens for that Friday. Ash got the job she wanted at GE, and my Irish friend Laura became an American citizen. It was a good Monday.
The previous Saturday I had gone out on a date with an interesting nice guy. He emailed me that morning to ask for a second date. I wrote to Aubree, "I went on one date, and the guy was not for me. But he was nice. Maybe I'll make a friend?" In response to a similar email to Ash, she wrote me, "We all want to love the good guys who love us to death. But, you can't force who you love (or are in love with, I should say)." Later that afternoon she wrote again, "… when the right thing comes along, neither person will screw it up…." I wrote the guy a thanks-but-no-thanks email.
But Kevin and I were having difficulty meeting. On October 6, 2005, I was at the same Rolling Stones Concert as Kevin, his uncle George, and cousin Mike. We even had a friend in common, Jinsoo, who had gone to undergrad with Kevin and law school with me.
Date: 07/24/2006 11:20 pm
Message: i endorse the bug spray/cologne my roommate brought back from turkey, which "can be used as a disinfectant for insect bites" and also "has pleasant scent and a cooling and calming effect."
have you read robert hass? he's a brilliant poet who translated some sad haiku. here's one that's like a two-hundred-year-old protest against bug spray:
don't kill that fly!
look it's wringing its hands
wringing its feet