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10:52 p.m. - January 31, 2004
Light dinner, an outing, fresh sheets on the bed: An official date
Surprise tickets to Brett Butler’s comedy act and enough blueberries to last for several breakfasts and longer. He’s in the shower making his music sounds – not singing but instruments, a trumpet and who knows what else. I think he wants sex.

During a break he leaned over and asked me why I smile, laugh, then look sad. How to explain pleasure, laughter, feeling good, makes me notice how rarely I am or let go and enjoy something, as if laughing is a momentary break in the control cycle.

All the women in my life – girlfriends, platonics – have never mentioned my smile. Every man in my life – boyfriends, not-so-platonics – mention my smile as something that they like.

It is winsome, not sexy. They do not know the difference.


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