So: I've moved out of A's house one week ago tonight, at least to the point of having a new place to lay my head at night, and brush my teeth. My friend (we'll call her Zelda) is recently single herself, so this might be interesting. But not in that way. I know that *I'm* not ready for dating seriously, and I'm pretty sure that moving in would count as a pretty serious dating scenario. All indications are that she's in the same way (too soon, etc, etc) Everything should be good on that front.

Things are weird... especially as it's A's birthday today. IAfter thinking about it long and hard, I decided to call and leave a Happy Birthday Song on her machine. I've cleaned out most of my stuff from her place (except for emptying the closet, my grandfather's chair, my bed, a round table, a rectangular table, the three legged table, my computer desk, my TV, my BIG SCREEN TV, my two bookshelves... and the kitty litter pan. (anybody but me notice a lot of tables in that list?)

Every now and then it hits me: 9 years is a long time to define yourself using someone else. I guess I'll have to learn to define myself from now on.

Cue end depressing monologue. Happy music time: I really like this group. Sorry if I've told you about them before, but heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeere's Eddie.