Yesterday (or, one hour ago) would have been my parents' twentieth wedding anniversary. I wonder if she thought about that. I've said it before, I'll say it again: I think my RA thinks that I have no friends. I certainly don't have many in this building. She only sees me alone, doing work. Sleeping. Showering. The only times I am around. Maria, Maria. We have conversations in the bathroom, which she always seems to instigate while I am walking into a stall. While I wait for the elevator, she watches from her room across the hall. She is one of those people. Wretchedly nice. My other RA, however, Johanze. I have not seen him since we moved in. I sometimes wonder if he still exists. Sometimes I wonder. The one thing I have learned this semester, the one thing that has impacted my life, was from Guenter G. Pfister, PhD. We, he says, are everyday working to construct our own personal realities. It's a power play, a fight for control. Identify, attack, conquer. Or, ignore. Deny. I like that. I am trying every day. If I still had any softness in my heart for Shamus P. Burke, baby-name taker, non-caller, non-writer, non-participant, poet, Trentonite, I would claim that I am trying every day to be the walrus. Damn it, Shamus, I tried. Not that you would have cared if I had told you. --- I have now had this username for four years (today!), which means that I have been on sitD for 4.5 years. Happy anniversary to me. Happy anniversary to me.