I’m catching Dolly up on the kitchen counters lately. She’s never had the gall to do so before. Nick’s theory is that she was really bored and knew she was alone during the Christmas holidays, so she just jumped up one day and learned that it’s possible. She knows that she’s not supposed to because as soon as she hears one of us walking to the kitchen, she’ll jump down to the floor and give us the honest kitty look. The one where she stands at attention with the big eyes, head slightly tilted to one side. Yeah. She’s an evil kitty.

I feel like speaking tonight. I feel like expressing myself in some way, but can’t focus on what I want to say. I feel like I’m totally addicted. I feel like sharing something that’s completely embarrassing, like the face trace trick or the wing chun dream.

I feel like singing. I feel like shouting. I feel like everything is just right.

I feel like I finally have people I can hang out with. I feel like I’ve finally had a meaningful relationship.

I feel like I can dream without disappointment. I feel like I can think without hurting. I feel like I can admire without jealousy.

I feel like every song is the last I’ll ever hear. I feel like I’m finally living.

I feel happy.

Whenever Trolley and I hang out together, whether it’s a car ride or a session of tower defense, we queue up albums that we both enjoy. Billy Talent, The Artist in the Ambulance, Sing the Sorrow, Give Up. However, there’s one song that he never queues up, that he always skips without anyone else knowing.

He knows that I can’t listen to that one song off guard. As much as I want that song for myself, to mean nothing more than a frail voice and bouncing beats, I can’t give up the memories that I associate with it, I can’t let go of what the song has come to mean.

And it’s only now that I realize that it’s better this way.

I met a woman last week who had the Majesty symbol tattooed to the back of her neck, which is totally fucking awesome. When she found out that I recognized it as the Dream Theater logo she gave a look of surprise, I’m guessing since listening to Dream Theater is consider somewhat esoteric, liking them can be seen as an eccentricity, and even some Dream Theater fans don’t know of such a subtle symbol. It turns out that she’s in a cover band, and even though the set list doesn’t seem to include anything as insane as Home or Dance of Eternity, it’s still amazing that there are people who are willing to attempt such music. She’s playing a concert tonight at Barrymore’s, with a Dream Theater tribute band and a Tool tribute band. It promises to be a good night of progressive metal/rock and I had my heart set on going, until I found out that there’s also a party tonight at Sheri/Emily/Christine’s place. I’m tempted to go to both, but I think I’d rather focus on one instead of spreading myself thin. Besides, it’s to celebrate the birthdays of three good people, and I wouldn’t want to miss it this year. No alcohol tonight, I’ve decided, and no chance for me in stiffing Tom with a bill (as I mistakenly did last year at the Clocktower).

Sometimes, the biggest compliment one can receive is an introduction.