I went into an unresponsive, robot-like mode at that point. Nothing is quite so excruciatingly irking to me as getting ditched. Being left behind tweaks something in a low level of my psyche. It might have something to do with my Dad moving away to California when I was very young, and divorcing my Mom soon after. (I also got an "Adult Friend", a surrogate male authority figure. He disappeared one day without warning and never contacted me again. Very therapeutic, that.) When Kris and I were in 5th grade, he once left me waiting on a street corner for him to meet me so we could walk to our friend Benjamin White's house. Well, along the way Ben's mom picked him up and I was left waiting on that corner for hours and hours. I still jokingly give him shit about that, and it has been around a decade since then.

So, if you don't want to be forgiven, leave me behind. Le'a noticed that I was talking in monotone, in one constant rhythm. "Yep." What's wrong? "What's wrong with what?" What's the problem? "There is no problem." I did not intend to discuss my mental flaws with others. I am especially wary of her because of the way she rotates affections. She pushes people away when she doesn't want them. It's an interesting cycle to watch if you aren't emotionally caught up in it. First she'll be best friends with Kris...then Brian....then Brandon...then me....then some other guy. I asked her about it today in the discussion that resulted from persistant needling about my behavior. She says it's because she feels like she gets too close to someone and gets this suffocating feeling. Then she has to spend time away from them or else she'll start hating them. I think I might feel the same way if I was ever close to someone. Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha.

I keep getting mail from someone named "Andrew Denyes". Apparently it's my 13th cousin, Andrew G. Denyes, from Ontario. I asked him where the name comes from, and he says that the Denyes' are French via Holland. Um...maybe that means that my last name is really "De Nyes" or something like that. I pronounce it like two words: "den" "yes". Apparently his Dad wrote a family history which has my branch of the tree in it, and includes me and my Dad.

French?!?@$!#%^!?!@#$! I am not french! I'm Chinese-Scottish/Irish, as far as I have researched. Well, maybe I should go take a look at this book and straighten my ancestry out. I'm not even sure why I worry about it.

A soft drink targeted at microbiologists? You could call it "E. cola" - Kris, marketing genius