i think about sheep.

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dateline: innerspace

1 august 1996 12:12 a.m.

Still here. Just sitting, thinking. I've tried to drink from these empty Sunkist cans about seven times now. Derek and I are friends. Objectively analyzing all we've done, shared, said, we're friends. Not even very close yet, but its fun when we're together. Yes, we're dating, but -- I'd like to hope -- when we call eachother it's more for talkstory than... than whatever. In fact, there's no real reason I should be even wondering about these things. At least not yet. We talk occasionally, we've gone out maybe four times (I guess I could read my own journals to find out, but I'm lazy), we probably don't know eachother well at all. Sure, there's been the unavoidable light flirting, but you should see me at work. I think the only reason why I'm so befuddled is because we were set up by friends. Not that they haven't rounded up some pretty cool guys over the years, but with that arrangement its almost like something is expected to happen. Getting together is a given, it seems, and they endlessly nag for progress reports. It's almost like practice for the pressure I might get from my mom if I make it to 30 without a husband. They're just being friends, I know. Sometimes they do the whole wink-wink-nudge-nudge just because it's fun to embarrass me. But with all that going on... with all that noise, I can't make hide nor hair of the signal. I don't know if Derek can either. He's attentive, always energetic, sweet and funny. But any guy or girl can be that way with anyone. Apart from bitty things, it sure doesn't seem like he's terribly eager to start anything with me. I'll head home soon. Really. I'm half afraid to find out if anything's happened to my car. Frankly, the thought of walking in the parking structure at this hour gives me the creeps. Today I sent out about a dozen invitations to other online diarists to join Open Pages. I got two responses so far tonight, but one was a "thanks, but no thanks." Had to think in terms of readership, the writer said. Can't put up anything that might tempt visitors to leave the site. After all the deep stuff I've been reading and thinking about the web lately, that seemed a little counterintuitive. Then again, I guess that's what the web's becoming lately. Almost seamlessly interconnected worlds of information are making way for a gimme-fest (I'm talking more of the commercial influence here). More and more invisible walls. Not isolationism, exactly (she said, fighting off nightmares of her ethnic studies course last semester)... just more defined "webclaves" than before. Oh well. Twelve sites isn't bad. Now I can tour straight through, being the impatient "snoopy-drawers" that I am.