33 days and counting

Only 33 days until Jack touches down in the States for good? Yippee!! We chatted online yesterday. Which we do once a month. He trecks the 120 miles (roundtrip) to the internet cafe. Wow, he's going to be in some sort of shape. Rrrr!!! It's funny no matter where he is in the world he's always at least a hundred miles away from internet access. All the better for his hot bod.

We did kind of get into an argument yesterday, though. See, even the best relationships have a hint of strife. It was a silly argument. According to Mr. Florence Nightgale I am enabling my best friend, Anna, to continue having shitty relationships. She's having difficulty with one of her latest beuxs. It's a long story. The summation: she feels like a failure at love. Everytime she likes a dude she gets hurt. She's just sick of the mind games, pining after men, the lack of emotional reciprocation. She sort of brokedown in my car last night as Tool's "Sober" played. It's funny how the mind associates things. To console her, I told her that love is like training for a sport. Did Tony Hawk just hop on a skate board and immediately find himself cast in "Gleaming the Cube." No. He broke many a bone way before Christian Slater even had an agent. Sure, the time back on skateboard after a broken femur he probably was a bit skittish. But he kept riding. I said, "Anna, you'll get better at this, you'l be queen of the X-games of love." She blew her nose.

To this, Jack responded that I'm just encouraging her to make the same shitty choices over and over again. When did I say that?! Tony Hawk doesn't continue to try the same trick the same way each time he fails at it. The re-evaluating, re-assessing and developing a new approach was implied in my analogy. Plus, she was sobbing in my car as we were sitting in traffic at 12:30am on route 3 West in NJ. I was lucky to get Tool off the radio.

Jack is such a boy sometimes.