The freedom this bullet thing brings bridges the gap between missing you and writing something.  And there is an update.

Our mutual friend, the wife, I named Elizabeth after Boo’s friend.  Not because I know her but because I get the sense that it’s a similar friendship, her’s being more established and with someone more her own age, as I recall.

Elizabeth called today to correct something.  Her husband had offerred, twice, to loan Derek the money to finish the house on time and Derek turned him down.  Derked has mentioned that he sells his houses in the first two weeks they are on the market.  But thank God he didn’t take it.

I had to take the call outside as he was inside, working on my house for $25 an hour.  He goes over to the calendar and marks down his time, the way I asked him to.  And then he goes back to work.  I make him lunch.

He was so stubborn about the stock market, had such a closed mind.  But now that equities are leading the way, instead of oil, he has to.  And I can teach him anything he wants to know.  Finally, I can do something with all this information, in lieu of trading.

I’m skipping tango tonight to scrape the bathroom walls.  You put a little soap into water and spray the walls a couple times before you use what looks like a pliant, metal trowel, if that’s what you call the thing to spread plaster.  He scraped off the floor today and wore a mask because of the asbestos.  But first he took half the sheetrock off of two walls.  I bought a corner pedestal sink.

Last night he stayed for dinner and we talk about the Bible and politics and disagreed on everything but we are each learning from each other as we go.

That’s odd, it’s been exactly a month.  Again.  Maybe it’s the full moon that gets me here.  I’ve never kept a journal, aside from Xanga, and between being out of practice and my problem with organization, I’m hard-pressed to come up with a first paragraph. 

I think this has happened before, though I can’t remember back that far.  Really, I don’t know where to start.  Maybe I’ll make a list.  I like lists.  It’s how I always get ready for things. I’ll divide it into the plus and minus.

Tango class sucks because the only guy without a partner is close to 80 and he can’t dance. 

Derek and I are contemplating a new arrangement where I pay him to work on my house.  I think this is what we both had in mind all along but already it is making things awkward.  There are other reasons it’s awkward. 

I found out he tried to borrow money from our mutual friend, this friend who is working two jobs so his wife can stay home with the baby. 

I have given up voice lessons and am slightly disappointed in myself.

My commodity broker called me up, wanting to short gold when Derek was long. 

I have lost sooooo much money in my stock portfolio.

I gained five pounds and had to buy all new pants.

It’s partly because I have been mesmerized by my new huge TV where I sit ’til the closing bell each day, taking notes, trying to understand everything they say.  Then I watch two more hour-long shows where they dissect what went on.

I am pruning the shit out of my yard and have a pile of branches the size of my car.

I love the music at my tango class and my teacher turned me onto a place where she volunteer teaches on Fri nights and I can get one-on-one instruction there.

Have I mentioned that Derek is hot?  Have I described his intense, huge, dark, liquid eyes?  Sometimes I make the mistake of lingering there and he sees me see him and the conversation gets stuck for a second. 

I am learning that Derek isn’t the altruistic guy he makes himself out to be.  As he becomes friendlier I am questioning his motives, which makes me feel safer.

I sing tenor in church now and it is a relief.  I don’t have to push myself to sing higher than is comfortable and the two other tenors can both read music.

I am getting more and more comfortable with the commodities trading and doubling my money with each trade.

I have enough notes to write a book about this bear market.

I have begun cooking up a storm, making all my favorite fall food.

The front of my house looks so much better and a guy is coming tomorrow to pick it all up.

        Really, I’ve forgotten how to write.  I can’t even think how to close it.