Under the Disco Ball Revisited


Maura is gone. I am recovering from the party that is us. Yesterday she said, "I feel like we're writing a sitcom, and when you're at the computer you're doing your part of the script, and when i'm at it I'm doing mine."

I feel like I'm living in a sitcom-- especially when my friend, who is a psycho hooker, comes to visit.

Which beats feeling like i'm living in a Sylvia Plath poem. Been there, done that. Ain't going back again.

For the time being I am doing double church duty. Maybe I always will to some extent. I move when I know it's time to move and part of my trouble has been refusing to stay when staying is exactly what was required of me.

This means I am sure I will see a lot of Dean.

Yesterday Maura says: "the thing about us is that we're so alike-- AND NOT ALIKE AT ALL." For her it is enough to look at a thing, pass it by and be done with. I turn matters over and over again. I could write a novel based on getting up at 3 a.m. and going to the bathroom. And then turn around and give it a sequel.

I am turning the whole weekend over in my mind. I am not going to be able to separate the Dean in the club from the Dean at church, the Dean I assumed went to bed at nine o'clock every night with a cup of milk after watching the Cartoon Network with the Dean who stays out to three o'clock in the morning and dances to house music in a gay night club. Just when you think you don't know someone, just when you are ready to be humble, life has a way of letting you know you don't know much at all and instead of settling for humility just knocking you flat on your ass.

Maura says quite clearly that after the initial shock of the weekend the thrill is gone and she will not think of it again really, or Dean for that matter. Me? I want to learn everything, ask a billion questions, get out books and books, think about it all over and over again. And of course I'll be the one to see him. There has never been a time I've hung around someone from the university and not been thrown for a loop. But this time I actually like the loop. I don't understand much, but for some reason I like Dean more now that I know, now that he let us into his world.

Of course, his name is not Dean. And he does not even look like a Dean. So I'll have to think of something new, if I keep on writing about this boy, and this weekend.