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01.04.04 - 9:00 p.m. geez, do yall even still check this? i have been a really bad entrier. i knew that would happen as soon as i paid for the membership. today! i went dirt biking. for all of you northerners, this very popular sport is something that most southern kids start (or at least dabble in) in their early years. But as i grew up on the sheltered mountain, i have yet to experience it. Its terrifying and the most goddamn fun. The first time i was so so scared and after letting the clutch out (slowly! slowly kate, jesus!) i ran head first into these "weeds" which could really be better classified as smallish trees...and as im screaming stop!stop! at the bike jimmy is yelling "off the clutch off the clutch off the clutch" which i apparantly heard as "press the gas harder, harder!" and i go wheelie-ing into the trees but, amazingly never fall off. ("Its okay, its not a dirtbike until its dented.")After this i received a relatively heated speech from jimmy (champion: heavyweight twins category) about "the difference between the clutch and the goddamn break" and what "i mean when i say slowly" and, of course, "if youre in that goddamn position again, hit the goddamn kill switch like i told you fifteen times on the ride over....goddammit, you know what could have happened if your leg got caught up in that chain?" And then, a smile and a sweet and begrudging "youre not the worst rider ive ever seen." Which made me a lot prouder than it probably should have. It was so quiet out there too. Quiet like i havent heard in a long time. No car doors slamming, no bass...i can see how people live out in the country, but on the other hand...being with these people on this break has made me ready to get back to what i was doing, to what im really happy doing. Its hard to move from place to place amongst people who are living their own lives and not feel lonely. Ive been "the girl on break" this whole month; spending time ive wanted so much to spend with people who are living their everyday lives. It makes me, in some way, ashamed that i am still in school, and that i havent started on the rest of my life now...the part that i will be doing when people come to visit me. I dont know if this is irrational or not, but it does make me want to go back and kick ass and take in every fucking experience i can and do things the best way i can so that i never regret this opportunity. It also (almost equally) makes me want to marry someone like jimmy who never went to college but can fix a flat tire and can make ice sculptures and races motorcycles and once kissed me in a way i worry i might never find again. His wife, whom i adore, made me breakfast, gave me four cd's, three pairs of socks (i was wearing alex or erik's mismatched tube socks and she felt sorry), five scarves and the world books from 1957-1967 (oh yes, brad, theyre just as cool as they sound). She loves me and Jimmy loves her and when he touched me on the couch it was jack daniels, but it felt like a road i could take, a road i know better not to take, but one i wouldnt turn away from right away...one i would dawdle on long enough for it to matter...and this is something at the back of my mind at all times. This whole trip home has been a study in how NOT to approach people's significant others...or at least how to beware other people's significant others. It seems that the only boys who approach/hit on/kiss/ me are those who are already taken, and i dont know if its me, but there was the old man of course, and then drew, then jimi, chris and then jimmy, on the couch, with his hand in my pants. Certainly it is not just coincidence, but i dont think i have intentions. Well, lets be real, hold on, im thinking...maybe i do. Maybe i do, thinking that if THESE guys hit on me then i must be doing something so good that they cant help but shove their hands down my pants while their wife is in the kitchen...and i let him. I let him because, then, like now, i feel like its my fault even though i dont consciously intend to put them in that position. Either im a supreme temptress or my guy friends are shitheads (how much does alcohol free you from constraints of morality/obligation?) Its time for dinner. Please dont hide your boyfriends from me. Im not intentionally harmful. � 
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