I know it's been a while since I talked to you. I did call you a couple of times, but you weren't there. It's been kinda busy around here the past couple of weeks. I've been going out a bit, or been hosting guests, or been talking with new friends. It just always seems to turn out that I'm doing something around the time I think I should be calling you and I'm not free to call until after I think I shouldn't be calling. You know what I'm saying?

I got your story suggestion for the TALES page. I don't think I'll use that one, but if you can think of any other funny or bizarre things that happened at any of our gigs, or any stories that are classic Robertsons, let me know. Also, I'll be putting up more stories soon and I've told everyone else to check them out and let me know if I've missed any of the finer points of a particular story. By the way, why do you and Jennifer rag on Becky so much? She's the same way about y'all and it kinda irks me. I mean, Chuck is the bastard who was using all of you for his pleasure and he's the one that lied to each of you. He also lied to a lot of other people about all of you and made you lie to people about everything. Why do all of you hate each other instead of him? The other day Chuck was saying that he had no bad feelings towards Jennifer. I said, "Why should you? She did everything you wanted her to!" I just think he's a total asshole for even thinking that he might be considered a victim of all that bullshit.

Remember that 18 year old, Amy, we met at that party and who started emailing me? Well, one night we were going to go to the Crazy Lady (I truly believe Chuck is addicted) and we called her for the first time to see if she wanted to go with us. We were just trying to see what kind of girl she is. She didn't go. But, the next day, she went with me and Mandy to see a show at UT. Afterward, we all went with Chuck to Hula Hut. Amy was obviously smitten with Chuck. We went in his car and she said she wanted to ride in front because she's a girl. When we sat down at the restaurant, she said she didn't like her side of the table (Chuck wasn't on it). I kept singing that song by the Supremes, "I'm in love, love, love." When we were in his car, she kept messing with all the controls on the dash. I asked her, "What's next, are you going to dip his pigtails in the ink well?" Chuck suggested we all go to the Crazy Lady and I said all we had to do was get in the front seat. We were basically being passively abusive to her, mostly just to call attention to her childish flirtations. We made sure to egg her on because it made Chuck feel awkward. We came back to our apartment and we (me, Chuck and Amy) were hanging in my room. She was looking at my Robertsons guitar strap. I was showing her how each band member was depicted as a different skull that I drew. There were also drawings of other mundane objects. She said she wanted to be the house because she's "open to everybody". I asked if I should have drawn the backdoor open. We played with her all night. She called the next day - twice - and invited herself over for me to make her lunch. I said no. Now she calls all the time. We're always mean to her, playing around with her little mind, but if you met her you wouldn't like her and you certainly wouldn't feel sorry for her.

We've auditioned two singers this week. One of them we know. She is really cute. We had run into her at Hula Hut. I asked if she'd be interested in singing for us. She asked if I was serious. I said yes and that we wanted a babe to be our lead singer. She said that she wasn't a babe. We set a date for the audition and I told her to dress as she were on stage and to bring her stage attitude. She came over in a very tight halter and a tiny skirt. She also sang very well. The only problem is that she doesn't write songs.

The next girl we auditioned was a songwriter. She had some really cool songs and she sounded like Sheryl Crow. She was also an excellent guitar player; I'm tempted to say she's better than me, but our styles are too different to compare. She listened to our stuff and said she liked it. She said she could see herself working with us and wanted to get together again. She seemed genuinely eager to play with us. We talked about it after she left and decided that her stuff is too complex for the sound we want. She's too good to mix with us.

I saw Gini last Wednesday night. It was strange. I turned down the wrong street on the way to her house. She looked good. She had highlights in her hair. We went out for coffee. She drove. She parked in the street. As we were walking to the coffee shop, she was in the street and I grabbed her hand to bring her up on the sidewalk. She kept holding my hand as walked. We did all of our talking in the coffee shop. We talked for a few hours. We talked about her new job and the move. We didn't talk about us. At one point, she says that she is "sort of seeing somebody". She says this only to clarify a story she was relating. She says nothing else of this relationship. Then we went back to her place. She had told me on the way that she still had a lot of packing to do and she still had to call Mrs. Hernandez. I knew I wasn't going to get to stay and talk once we got there. I didn't feel bad about that. I guess all this time away from her made me feel like I didn't have to be with her. I felt like she was making the right decision in moving. So, we get to her place and I walk her to the door. She opens it and puts her purse inside. She gets a pen and takes my email address. I remember how she had told me on the phone that she wanted to hug me. I'm anticipating the hug; eager to hold her again, but aware that it will signal the end of our evening. It comes. We're holding each other for what seems like several minutes. She tells me that I'll always be the most wonderful person she's ever known. We release each other. We walk to my truck with our arms around each other. Again, we embrace. I tell her that I know she still as a long night ahead of her, but that I want a kiss. She tries to act surprised by my request, but her smile betrays her. She says she's not sure that we should. I tell her I am not looking for a kiss to leave us wondering if there was still something between us. I merely wanted to be able to look back on our time together and remember when our last kiss was. I wanted to remember a kiss that came at a time when we both knew it was our last. She asked, "You don't remember our last kiss?" I said, "I don't even remember if it came before or after we were no longer getting married." She seemed embarrassed by the reminder of her flip-flopping deconstruction of my dreams that had occurred 18 months ago. I reassured her by reminding her that we had a lot of good times to remember of those six years we had together. She says, "It's not that I don't want to kiss you, it's the principle of it." I don't push the issue. I don't want my last moment to be a fight because she wouldn't kiss me. She bargains, "I'll give you a peck on the lips?" I smile and ignore her offer. I ask if I can kiss her forehead. She smiles and nods eagerly, her eyes wide with acceptance. I take her face gently in my hands, lean over, and kiss her. I ask her if she'll kiss me on the eyelids. She nods even more eagerly, remembering how she used to soothe my tears. I close my eyes and lean toward her. One kiss. A second. A flash a memories at the touch of her soft lips. I stroke her cheek. With sadness in my voice, I tell her I love her. Her eyes begin to glisten and she says she loves me too. I kiss her cheek and say goodbye. She walks to her door as I turn my truck around in the cul-de-sac. As she'd done countless times before, she stands in her doorway and waves goodbye to me. As I had done countless times before, I turn my interior light on and wave my reply as I drive away from her house.

I don't know when I'll be able to call you. I want it to be soon, but I can't promise it will be. I really miss you. I'd like to know what kind of surprise that cryptic message you sent was foretelling. Is it a ploy to bring me to Athens? Someday you'll realize that you've loved me all along and we'll be together forever and ever and all the bad things will be forgotten and all the bad people will go away and we'll have fun, fun, fun and we'll be in a band together and everyone will tell us how lucky we are to have found each other and you'll be patient with me and we'll sit in the dark and talk to each other and you'll let me stare at you like I used to at Goldleaf and we'll tingle when we touch and I'll lick icing from your face and you'll spit in my mouth and I'll stick my tongue in your nose and you'll let me go down on you every night and I'll listen to your belly all the time and I'll make colored rice and you'll make frijoles with pancakes and we'll drive off a cliff and you'll burn blueberry candles and I'll pluck your legs and you'll try on clothes and you'll curl my hair and you'll turn out the lights when I take off your shirt and I'll say you're beautiful and you'll say you're not and we'll finally kiss and I'll make a big deal out of it and you'll forget about it.

It's late,
luis

Your birthday page.