Oooooooooooo woah is me! It's been a long long time since I've posted at this forum. MUCH too long. I miss you people! Howard! Brunnen (Grr.)! Sam! Jimmy! Faux Pas (Fox Pass!). But alas, where is Unipeg?!

.........
But what you ask has drawn me back to the magical land of Rink? Yes indeed, none other than girl problems. Only this time I don't seek advice, instead...pity. See, I'm merely venting, for in two days I experienced a perfect relationship go from heaven to hell at twice the speed limit. Let me learn you on what happened.


Tuesday: I begin my first day of my second year of volunteer service at UCLA. I begin by introducing myself to the lovely and quite amiable staff on the 6th floor CardioThoracic something something office. Lovely people, who all know my mother who works on the 4th floor (ICU). I become a little old man's protege. I follow him around for two hours, re-arrange some furniture, learn the ropes. All is well. Next, at 1 pm, after lunch, I work at the clinic. Ushering patients into their rooms, giving instructions, sorting out scheduling snaffoos, etc etc. Now it's a very relaxed environment, where I know the entire staff. Now sometime around 2 pm a fellow volunteer ('cept I don't have to wear the obvious blue jacket denoting my lowly status) appears. She is from patient escort. She appears to be my age. She is one of the cutest girls I have ever seen. I rush to introduce myself and we hit it off. It's like we'd known each other forever, the conversation was so relaxed, so FUN. No pressure, no need to act in any manner than how I usually do. Things are going great! Now she returns to her station on the A-level, that is basically -1. I am on the 6th. Another hour passes and YES! We need a wheel chair. I bolt down to the A-level where SHE greets me and offers me HER wheel chair. Playing the hapless fool (but she could tell) I tell her I don't know the way back (A-level is a maze!). So she walks me all the way back and up the elev. to the 6th floor, both of us talking the entire time. Once the patient was taken care of I walk HER back A-floor.
me: "Whaddaya know, I'm escorting an escort"
her: "So what kind of escort does that make you?"
me: "The highly paid by the hour kind"
her: Laughs
And so we separate till around 4:30 when both our shifts end and I walk her to the sign out area and we arrange to have lunch together the next day at 12pm and we exchange phone numbers and e-mail addys (and I didn't force her into this, she actually chased me down a good minute after we separated to correct the info she gave me!). Sound good so far? ::sniff::

Wednesday:
After awaking from a night full of twisting and turning in anticipation for our 'lunch' date (I planned to take her to Westwood village, where I would naturally cover her financially and we would chat the entire time over our food at a nice quiet restaurance), I RUSH to UCLA (I'm driving now btw) and begin a hard day's work (which doesn't seem like it at all because I had something(ONE) to look forward too). *We actually met twice before lunch and exchanged greetings and smiles btw. But around 12, on my way down to her floor, I see her.....with another guy! No biggy, no problem, he's another volunteer (who works in the same depart!! 10 hours with her! lucky ##%#%#!#$#). But I'm cool. Cuz I'M gonna have lunch with her. The three of us walk to her station, I introduce myself (he's a sophomore at Duke), blah. Cool cool, he's too old for her. So when I ask her if we're going, she says "yeah, but I have to wait for him!" And on top of that, she brought her own lunch! But he didn't, so we end up going to Westwood. And HE drives! I felt like such a third wheel.....they kept talking and talking, since they had more to talk about working in the same depart and everythang. So an hour of torture goes by and we return, and I'm 20 min. late. As soon as we step out of the car, who appears to yell at me...my mother. Indeed. Like a little boy I run to her and receive my rebuke. In front of her and HIM.

And that was the last time I saw her.
And that is the last time I will see her (unless of course, she is there in August), for you see, I will be in Spain half of July, then San Fran the other half.
Her last image of me was being scolded by my mother for being 20 min late, after an awkward lunch session with the other guy.

That's it! I'm renouncing my hetrosexuality. From now on I am Byron, the (a word for a woman who likes other women)! I don't know how that quite works...but I'm sure it involves a lot of hair removal.


Until later,
most likely much later,
Byron