Online dating has been mostly a bore so far. When you meet people in person you experience them as the complex 3D creatures they are, and not as small photos supplemented with the same descriptions over and over - "intelligent, fun-loving, one-of-a-kind" - like personal ads in a Lake Wobegon newspaper.
Time has to be balanced in your mind so that you don't tip too much into the future or sink too frequently into the past.
In the night my thoughts are cold black diamonds.
I talk into the phone, knowing that he's there at the other end even though I can't hear him.
Sometimes you look back on your week to find that one of your prominent memories involves a pitched battle with a backed-up toilet. Oh well.
When I'm feeling low about my writing I think of the words as weak magnets sliding down the front of a fridge.
At the library I spot a DVD Whisperer. He caresses their spines and speaks to each one - "Should I watch you tonight? Or you?" - then cocks his head and listens for the answer.