December 3rd, 2001



So it's late.
I've been up for 3, 4 hours, maybe, talking to Marc.
It seems that I'm insane.

The biggest insanity, really, is the fact that I don't know how to communicate. And yet I try.

but Marc seems to actually want to see me again (probably only because I was badgering him so).

Things might not be the white wedding I'm always hoping for, but so far they haven't been, so why not hope that the next one will be?

If worse comes to worse, we'll just both make googly eyes at Elijah Woody and get smashed on sake like good American consumers.