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2003-09-30 - 1:21 p.m.

I spent awhile this morning expounding on Seth's visit and what it was that we did together, but then I clicked on a button that took me to another diaryland page on accident, and I was unable to retrieve what it was I had written previous to clicking on the button. Irritating.

In a nutshell, we played cards and watched movies, made and ate dinner, went to Savannah and got drunk, went to the cemetery (and Chuck Hamilton's gallery, of yesterday's entry), went to Mistletoe state park, and in general had a good time.

In Savannah I had entirely too much to drink, and had a conversation with Joe that went something like this:

me: why won't you play that song for me?

Joe: I already played it

me: but why won't you play that song?

Joe: But I just played it!

me: I know that, but what I'm asking is how come that song hasn't been played?

Joe: Are you listening? I played it 10 minutes ago!

me: Yes I know! but what I'm asking is what do I have to do to get you to play that song?

And so forth. Here's a conversation I had with Seth on the way back from Robbie's, which is a pool bar here in Augusta:

me: I don't see how that Internet cafe can stay open. There's never anyone there.

Seth: maybe people who work around here go there on their lunch breaks

me: I doubt it.

Seth: why?

me: because this is America and people don't go to Internet cafes on their lunch break. Furthermore, there aren't a lot of businesses around here that would probably give their people lunch breaks

Seth: you don't know that. People could have lunch breaks and go to the internet cafe then

me: even so, there's not enough businesses around here

Seth: you don't know that. Look, there's a strip mall right there

me: alright, even in the unlikely event that everyone who worked in that strip mall went to the Internet cafe on their lunch breaks, it probably still wouldn't generate enough revenue to keep it open

Seth: but how do you know that? you don't know that.

I wanted to kill him.

He was kind enough to trailblaze on the trail at Mistletoe. There are lots and lots of spiders and spiderwebs across the trail. Big, colorful spiders. Somehow colorful spiders are 10 times more scary than regular spiders. Now, I love Mistletoe, but I can only go when there's either someone else with me to trailblaze and walk into all the spiders, or it's winter and all the spiders and other insects are dead. Once a couple days after going to Mistletoe, I was scratching my head while I was driving and discovered what I took to be a big scab. I figured maybe I had hit my head and then forgot about it. It didn't occur to me that it would be a giant tick! Which is what it turned out to be. Not even after the "scab" was hard to get off my head. When I looked down and saw the giant, swollen tick in my hand, I almost killed myself driving off the side of the road in my horror. Ticks are nasty in any event, but to find one on your scalp? yuck. Since that day, a few years ago now, I have picked up a nervous habit of running my fingers through my hair, or more specifically along my scalp, subconsciously checking for ticks.

Now Seth's gone and I'm here alone with my paintings. I don't miss his being argumentative or his indecisiveness, but I do miss having someone around to play cards with.

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