Well, I didn’t fall on my face.

My butt was pretty damn sore, though. I always forget about bicycle seats. They are truly the tool of Satan.

Just watched Star Trek: Nemesis for the first time. It was pretty good. It was actually a movie, instead of a two hour episode. You’d think that I could quantify why, given that I took two whole film courses in college. But I’m not entirely sure what the difference is, although I do think that in general the following factors had an effect: there were more things going on than you’d usually have in a two hour episode, a lot of stuff happened very quickly, and a main character died. There was the typical beginning with the group assembled like family again, but it didn’t go on monotonously forever, and all of a sudden we were thrown into the action. I think that definitely changes the experience.

There were also several emotional things going on at once, including Deanna’s mental rape experience, that were not plunged into and explored laboriously as they might be in an episode. I suppose the following comparison can be made: episodes are like chapters in a book, while movies are like short stories.

I dreamed about adoption last night, I guess. There was an alcoholic man who was trying desperately to give away his son. The boy was a real cutie, with spiked blond hair, and I guess he was around Connor’s age. (Didn’t look a thing like Connor, though.) I took the boy and we got along famously. It was just weird. I explained it in the dream to some skeptics with a speech about how I understood why the alcoholic had to give up his child, and why that made me feel that I should take him. The rest of the dream was me carrying the boy around and talking with him. He was really sharp. We discussed all kinds of things, which of course I can’t remember now. Dreams are silly like that…I don’t even know what the boy’s name was.

Then today when I was leaving Publix I saw a woman and a cute little toddler, and I almost started crying. I winced and grimaced and told myself to stop letting it affect me. Because that’s really what it is. I’m allowing myself to be in pain.

Lately I’ve been thinking that I would really like to buy a house in North Augusta, to be near my friends and to start a more “mature” part of my life, but today I started wondering if getting a house would be too painful without children in it, or if I’m thinking of a house as a substitute for a child. I don’t know. I feel like I want to do things that pretty much require a house, like garden, and have a guest bedroom, and have cookouts, but at the same time I wonder if I’ll feel weird about it knowing that there won’t be any little ones to fill the larger space. Maybe I’m just leading myself towards more pain.

I don’t even feel like I’m expressing this coherently. There’s so much in my head that refuses to come out. I guess…I just want to know. For sure. And once I do know…I want to make some sort of plan.

I always try to tie things up tidily and explain them away. So there you go, emotions; get over yourselves. I am so incoherent right now it’s not even funny, and the more I write, the less sense I make. I need to just stop writing now.