Well, I just had a nice long talk with myself. I suppose I ought to fill you in on things; it's Thursday now, more than a week after the last journal entry. Zelda never did call that night (I got home at something like 11:00 and there were no messages). I suppose I will start there, but it will be, of necessity, a very short revisitation. If that's a word. Spell check doesn't think so. I could care less; it's a word now.
All right. I set out Saturday evening rather sad that Zelda had not called. I began telling myself the requisite "You don't want a girl who will treat you like that anyway" condolences, making sure not to ham it up too much and so render myself unbelievable. I couldn't do it very much, though. I couldn't help but remember how nice she'd been (and how nice I'd felt) in the times we'd talked. And, as I believe I've mentioned earlier, I'm not one to hold a grudge. Dunno if I'm even capable of it. I suppose I should try sometime, just to see. It probably wouldn't be worth the grudge.
I arrived at the Taco Bell to meet my friends. One offered to buy me dinner. I declined at first, feeling that he was just trying to be nice to his poor, depressed friend. He insisted, though, saying, "Are you going to deprive me of this opportunity to bless you?" And I knew then that he really did *want* to do it; it wasn't some sort of socially obligatory conscience thing. So I accepted. And, I admit, it did lift my spirits a little bit.
I gave them the recent update in my story, and they expressed sympathy. One of my friends utilized the technique (half jokingly) from an episode of Frasier wherein he must help Bulldog over a breakup: "Screw her! You don't need her!" He also told us a story about his office and a woman there who was a little too demanding on the computer department. It was a nice distraction.
By and by, we finished eating and decided to head to Best Buy (which was proximate) to ogle merchandise. Another good way for me to get my mind off of Zelda. We ogled. One of the guys purchased a CD-RW drive and I ended up buying Gran Turismo 3, an excellent racing game for the PS2. I'd been pondering video games, earlier, because in a conversation with Zelda we talked briefly on them, and she mentioned that they can be addicting. I was thinking about the way games can be social things; Goldeneye in the Mush Room and similar things come to mind. The three of us headed to my house and we played for a bit. It was enjoyable, and I was glad that I had at least one sociably competent game.
By Sunday I had remembered Zelda, though, and it wasn't a fun day. I went to church and attended the "apologetics" class. I don't remember if that was the first time or not; I haven't mentioned it here - ah yes. It was the second time; I remember because the first time I attended I was thinking about my possibly upcoming date with Zelda; my spirits were high, as I had asked her the previous evening and she had responded most satisfactorily. I was also pondering the "commitment" thing, in that if I had a girlfriend I couldn't be "scoping out the chicks" with quite such a clear conscience. Not that it mattered much at that time; there were few good chicks to scope. I say "apologetics" in quotation marks because pretty much all that was discussed I'd already been over before at some time. I think it was my senior year of high school, but it could have been the junior year. Some of it very likely preceded even that. In any case, it all seemed rather basic to me, and I was a little disappointed - again. Stupid church. Why don't they tell me anything I don't already know?
Sigh.
Right; I must continue.
Because of my "superior" position in regards to the rest of the class (for whom apparently all this thought on logic and absolute truth and relativism and whatnot was entirely new - I guess that's one good thing from my education in a Christian high school) I took a relatively central place in the discussion. Primarily I played devil's advocate and did my best to emulate a person who refuses to accept logical reasoning on the grounds that it's not "my" logic. My model was someone from out west, who had frustrated both my father and me with just such behavior in some discussion however long ago.
I left the class feeling like I was "part of something" again, but rather depressed that it was such an insignificant thing (as I perceived it; I still didn't take anything new away from the class, though I suppose I may have helped the others a bit) and that I wasn't really socially involved with the group; it was only a classroom setting. I suppose that is a poor combination: it was merely a classroom experience, and I still failed to leave with those pearls of wisdom (or even mundane knowledge) that are the whole point of classroom experiences.
So I'm not sure if it made me feel like more or less of a "loner" than before. And, whether or not I prefer to be a "loner" or not (I still haven't decided, and am beginning to think that I won't decide but rather vacillate uncomfortably between these diametric preferences), loneliness (as opposed to its friendly twin solitude) doesn't feel too hot. And then I started thinking of Zelda. Not a great combination.
I popped online a bit that night, and talked with some friends from college. I also got an e-mail from Zelda. It apologized for not calling the night before - she had returned home late, and had figured that I was already off to the show. She wished me a great week, and said she'd call when she returned from the place she was going to for a week. The e-mail was postmarked at something around 10:30 that morning.
This again triggered the dual happiness/sadness thing. I was gladdened that she had remembered her promise to call - and that she had remembered it even the next day. And it was by no means a cold letter. It was sprinkled with smileys, which normally I despise but this time was happy to see. They made me think of her smile. But it was also a reminder of the Zelda-less week that lay ahead. It's one thing to not be able to see for a week a nice, pretty girl whom you are interested in but who doesn't seem to be terribly interested in you. It is another thing entirely to face that week when it is at the beginning of a fairly promising relationship.
The week went by. I thought of her quite a bit; many of my motivational imaginings took the form of protecting her from the heat. For those of you in the audience that are not me, I will give an example: if I have 360 widgets to make, then I imagine that each one I make forms a one degree sector of a massive sunshade to keep her cool (defectively handled widgets weaken the shade, or become gnats to pester her); this motivates me to work efficiently. I checked the weather in her area a few times, and was concerned that the heat and humidity were of low comfort, and that the UV index was high.
I called the temp agency and asked for something first shift; I wanted to increase my number of free evenings. I had noticed the alarmingly few number of weekends (the only time I could set up a date with Zelda) remaining in the summer. And it was not only for her that I did it; I wanted to spend time with my friends, as well. I was told of such a thing at the same company, and that I would start on Wednesday. That was fairly pleasing; it meant I had a five day weekend in which to become accustomed to waking at 5:00 in the morning, not to mention a five day weekend to enjoy in leisure.
By Wednesday I had still not heard from Zelda (who had said she would call when she got home - on Sunday), so that evening I went to the Zelasney's home. I had a fairly short conversation with her; they were about to eat dinner and were merely waiting for Mr. Zelasny to get home. We talked for a short while, and I said that I would stop by the following evening to see if she could do something then.
Thursday evening I stopped by to offer an ice cream outing, but she was just beginning to plan and prepare dinner, which needed to be quick because the family was expected in approximately 15 minutes. I talked with her while she attempted to decide what to prepare, and offered to help if she needed it. We talked for an hour, and when I left she had still not come up with anything. Oddly enough, the family hadn't arrived, either. But I took this as a good omen; she had had a legitimately polite reason to ask me to leave (dinner preparation) and didn't take it - for an hour. In theory, if all previous encounters had been merely friendly attempts to not hurt my feelings by flat out rejection, this would not have happened. It was also in this discussion that I discovered a second incompatibility (other than country music): she is a football fan. It's not that I have a lot against football fans, but sports are not really a great interest of mine.
She was not free Friday on account of it being her father's birthday, but she said she was likely to be free Saturday and Sunday. At that time I was under the impression that we guys were going to have some sort of an outing that evening after the wedding of one of my high school classmates, so I said I would probably try Sunday.
Saturday's wedding was a little odd. I don't want to go into it right now, focused as I am on the Zelda Saga at the moment, but it was an odd mix of ritual/tradition and casual lightheartedness. Some friends were headed to a restaurant afterwards, but I didn't go; there was no evening outing planned, so I was going to have another try at a date with Zelda. Once home, however, I telephoned and found an answering machine. I didn't leave a message, since all I'd wanted to know was if she were free, and that question had just been answered. Also I felt it would be weird leaving a message that would be heard by the whole family, particularly given the slightly negative "vibes" I'd perceived (real or imagined) from her sister.
So, as there was nothing happening on the friends or Zelda front, and I was rather bored, I went to the wedding reception (that none of aforementioned "guys" were planning to attend). I became frustrated anew by the dancing, which kindled memories of the (however meager) experiences I'd had however many years ago with waltz. Of course, Zelda came to mind. I actually thought it humorous to think that at that moment I could have (had she been there) honestly said to Zelda, "I want you for your body." I suppose incongruencies between intended meaning and interpretation tickle me. Sigh. It would have been nice to have had someone to dance with. And some real music to dance *to* - the music was mainly popular music. Too fast to waltz to, and not the right mood. Still, there were a few pieces.
In any case it reminded me again how important rhythm and the perception of time are to intelligence. But more on that later, I suppose; I have plenty of this in my head and in my notes, and I really don't care to share much with the world.
I was mildly saddened by the lack of doing anything with Zelda, but I was well comforted by the fact that I hadn't really looked to that day (Saturday) to do anything with her anyway. I eagerly awaited Sunday.
That evening the car died.
The next day, the prime (Zelda-wise) of the day was spent with Dad trying to find out what was wrong with the car. The fact that my transportation saddened me, as I thought that I wouldn't be able to take Zelda to TCBY. I remembered the things I'd purchased during the family vacation a while back, and thought them an excellent gift and excuse-to-drop-by idea. I was very happy that, when I bought them, I'd decided to buy two instead of one (as I'd earlier intended). But by the time I called (and, yes, I blame the time spent on the car), she was expecting a visit from her aunt, who was coming over for dinner.
I went to a demolition derby at the county fair that night with one of my friends. I unloaded on him, and he called my attention to my own overexertion. I was trying too hard. But, then, I was fairly justified in it, given the summer's impending termination. But both he and the other friend (at whose home we dropped by on the way home) suggested I work on "expanding my portfolio". Not that I have much place to expand at this time. And I do, on the intellectual, objective level, acknowledge that I am taking this situation entirely too seriously - more seriously than I should be, and certainly more seriously than Zelda is taking it. But I also acknowledge (on the same level) that, this being my first experience in this area, a little overenthusiasm is to be expected. And condoned, to an extent, though it certainly won't make things less painful if and when this crashes upon me.
But the aforementioned demo-derby friend did offer me some excellent advice - if it may be called that. He brought to attention something that I'd been overlooking: I was desperate to make some initial contact, to allow us to become more acquainted. I wasn't terribly interested in a full-blown relationship, but immensely interested in its possibility - which was why I was trying so hard to set up this first date. But he pointed out that if she were interested that first step as well, she would be making an effort to help our schedules work out. If she weren't even interested in getting to know who I was (to see if she were interested in who I was), then it wasn't really worth trying.
I called on Tuesday to try to nail down a date, a real date, on which I could take her out to dinner, or a movie, or something. I got an answering machine three times. Finally I decided that I would leave a message. I planned it out. I don't remember anymore verbatim what it was, but it was essentially "Hi, Zelda; it's Kevin. I was calling to see if you were free, but I guess you're not. Anyway, it would really make my day if you would give me a call at [my home phone number]. I look forward to seeing you!" I debated very much how to greet her, and how to communicate that I looked forward to her call, without implying "Call me - Please!" I also put a good deal of thought into how I would end the message; "Have a nice day", the curse of that company I did phone work for two years ago, was certainly out. So was my general stock-farewell, "Talk to you later." And I've never been fond of an abrupt "Bye." In any case, the message never got used, because when I called the next time (a mere 5 or 10 minutes after the previous call) her mother answered, and I got to talk with Zelda. She had just finished working in the pasture and was hot and sweaty and grassy and dirty, so she didn't want to do anything just then - I curse myself for not realizing I could offer something later on that evening - and I asked her when she would be free in the coming week.
She said that she would be out of state later on that week (upon which day she wasn't sure) with her father, and that on Friday she was moving some things into her apartment near her college. I asked if she would call me when she learned when she would be free, and she said she would.
It is now Thursday, and she hasn't called. I am saddened. I will try this weekend.
All right, then. It seems my short, quick update has become a long meandering thing. At this point, I'm not going to write about what I sat down to write. Besides, dinner is ready. Perhaps I will return afterward. I want to get a good night's sleep in tonight.
Oh, after a quick review of some past journals, I remembered a dream I thought I'd mention. I had it about a week ago; I suppose that places it somewhere in the week she was away. Zelda was married (or engaged, at least) to some guy and I was trying to date her nonetheless. (This was probably taken from my classmate's wedding.) There were no small details (that I remember, anyway), except that I did finally, toward the end of the dream, think it odd that we were developing the relationship.