the face of the earth

It's still raining and it's still cold. I guess it really is winter. I love the slick, wet streets walking home from BART. I'm the only one walking from BART. Other people get rides or drive or bike. I walk. I was watching bad TV with W. I asked him if he thought it was ironic that he went to Vassar and he likes this shit and I'm still working on my degree at SFSU at thirty-one years old and think it's beyond ridiculous? He couldn’t really explain it to me. I guess after all that hard work they're allowed to like it. They know it's bad. They would write it better. He did make me laugh a lot which felt good. We both like nasty, totally inappropriate jokes. He's loud and inappropriate in public too which makes uncomfortable but in a funny sort of way. But if he was my boyfriend, it would be a totally different story. We would fight so much and then it would be over. Another puddle of bitterness. I don't step in it. Daniel wrote me back. He sees my father about once a month when he stops by my grandmother's house for lunch. He didn't give me any details and I understand. How can you write about these family tragedies on Facebook? I've told myself for so long that I don't care about these people, I don't want to know, they're horrible, mean, racist, homophobic, and just scary. But what did I lose in thinking that? Maybe it's become to easy for me to walk away from relationships. But I can't imagine actually being in the same room with them again. It would be so awkward. I guess I would be angry. But for what? I left. Why should they try to track me down? Daniel said he had tried to find me on MySpace and Facebook many times. He thought I had fallen of the face of the earth...