2002-09-16 - 12:35 a.m.

Let me make this clear - I don't want to see HER there. I just want to see my old place, her place now, and see what she's done to make it her own, how she'll arrange things, what kind of lights and rug and kitchen table she'll have. I think about myself there, making a life. She transferred here, from Canada, so she's doing the same thing, although I don't know her history. It makes me feel a little nostalgic.

I spent the day today making gravy and lasagna, and I ran out tonight, in the warm steamy drizzle, to get some stuff for salad. I turned the corner, and looked up, and I could see one wall of my bedroom. She's turned it into a closet, and I could see uber organized shelves and racks of suits and cubbyholes. I wondered if it will be just her closet, if she'll choose to live in it like a studio with storage. Or maybe her bed is in there too, my view is limited by my grounding, and I can only see the tops of walls, the ones that face the windows. I start thinking how I could have done that, and maybe I'd have hung a curtain across there, one of those Indian beaded ones, and had a bed in there and that's it......it's just not healthy, I don't think. It's strange, though, how fascinating I find it. It's like a story come to life, don't you think?

And don't worry, I'm not stalking her or anything. I'm stalking myself. I find it quite useful, when looked at in the right light.

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