_________________ Saturday 12 February 2000   9 57 pm pst   [ dinner out ] Matthew, two of his three housemates, one of his former housemates, that former haousmate's girlfriend and I went out to dinner. Zachary's is an all time favorite restaurant amongst many of Berkeley's students. It is a Chicago style pizza place that bakes the toppings right into the crust.

As I have no doubt said before, since I only eat cheeseless pizza, my stardards for judging it are quite different than most people's. But I really don't like Zachary's pizza. Having announced this, I quite amenable to having dinner there, since I knew that was what everyone else wanted. I knew there would be a wait. Saturday night at the ever popular pizza joint in a college town equals a crowd. We were told it would take an hour to be seated. We put down our name and headed for a local Irish pub. I was the only one who didn't drink. I did partake of the french fries.

Dinner was a mishmash of conversations. I had fun, but I wasn't up for an entire evening out, so Matthew and I krept home to watch Delicatessen. It was good to curl up on the couch with him -- to be the only one in the house with him. It was nice to have quiet time -- to have the week of school seem ages away. He enjoyes the flick immensely, which was a delight for me, since I has suggested that he would like it.

Being here with him feels like home, just as New York did. The room is familiar. I stare out at the lamp from my side of the bed. I sleep on his right in every bed except at my dad's, in which I make him sleep against the wall, on my right. The ceiling is knotted pine. I stare up at it's imperfections and try to find boards that we carved from the tree next to each other. And I stare at the blinds that cover the windows. They have a zig zag shape, and I try to decide whether the light panels go in and the dark ones out, or vice versa. I pop them back and forth in my mind, shifting my perspective over and over.

It feels good to be home -- to be home in his arms, wrapped in his enviroment.   February 2000 February 1999 February 1998

two years ago today: "I dragged Matthew to two Marilyn Monroe pictures last night. I just love her sex appeal. She is just so unashamed. If I may quote Bound, I hate women who apologize for wanting sex." * * * one year ago today: "I really don't understand how people think sometimes." * * * <   yesterday | month | tomorrow   > back to Rachel's Daily Diary