[Part 2] The following night, I made impromptu arrangements with Eric and Tara; we finally saw Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, which I loved more than I can justify. I identified with it like crazy, mostly concerning Seth + me. Near tears afterwards, I babbled to my nonplussed companions about redemptive worthwhileness, the cleanness of any pain that we would choose to do over ("I would love you over..."). I imagined being forewarned, approx. two years ago, of everything that would happen with the two of us - would I choose it anyway? The absence of regret, in the face of preordained crumminess, seems like a powerful restorer of value. For their part, Tara and Eric mocked me, and I nursed my grand & isolated moodiness until Eric put on a TMBG CD.


We took a dodgy, circuitous route back to Tara's, then changed our minds and veered further into the District/poorly lit wooded streets/other semi-local highways - all to prolong singing along to TMBG songs, and otherwise to enjoy each other's company. Eventually, we entered Bethesda Naval Hospital grounds (Eric, as a brat, has access) so that he could use the ATM there (??). Tara and I whined, so he left us in the car with the music on; after a brief exchange, we concluded that we were essentially obligated to steal his car. Haltingly, at maybe 3 mph, I drove in a wide semi-loop across the parking lot. Then I attempted to cruise up to the ATM vestibule, but Eric met me halfway and directed my attention to the six or seven police/security cars stalled to our right. We did get off military property without legal incident, but not before driving up to the roof of a parking garage and lying on the hood of Eric's car, stargazing and overlooking a huge sweep of Bethesda forest/military infrastructure.


On Monday, May 24, I started work at SAIC - a multinational tech corporation mainly involved in defense contracting. As Sandi (I think?) pointed out, Tara (at Anteon) and I are rival contributors to the military-industrial complex. Well, marginally: I help edit a 20-page color newsletter called Spectrum. I think it's remarkable that I'm being paid $13/hr to rewrite and copy edit articles. I've never been good at anything lucrative before. Also, they've given me my own office - larger than my dorm room last semester - and mostly they leave me alone to slip into blissful, self-sustaining misanthropy. The other interns seem to be friendly with one another; I pass them in the hall talking about the party scene at their respective colleges, or their career goals, or whatever. I glide by as a social nonentity. Though I love my friends, being absolutely unattached has its place (in my psyche?) too - at least, as long as I can go back and forth at will (grin).


That reminds me (of my failed attempt to have a roommate): Arielle, please help me to do what you did for my birthday, by June 21. Arielle made me a mix CD of my most overplayed songs from last year, as well as some of her own favorites. I really love that CD, and I think it would be fun to compile some for-proselytizing top picks. But, I'm almost done: On Wednesday, May 26, I returned to RM for the Spring Choral Concert. As an alum, I was called onstage to participate in the finale, "The Heavens Are Telling," which was bittersweetly fun. Afterwards, I met up with Seth - still in his Madrigals tux and newly recognized with a departmental prize for musical theater - and we drove to Montgomery College and made out. I justified this impropriety by saying it was "kitschy" (because everything we talk about nowadays leads back to Unbearable Lightness). He said, skeptically, "Well, maybe by the actual definition."

No change, I can change,
I can change, I can change....