Anyway, (and not for the reason I just described), his album keeps making me cry.

I'm not sure if I actually heard any of these new songs of his in the tribute concerts that followed Sept. 11, but I imagine I did. The songs open back up that profound feeling of loss and loneliness that I was projecting after the Trade Center collapse ... that I made myself feel as if I were one of the victims' loved ones.

I tear up on Bart. I tear up sitting at my desk in the evening. A. wishes I'd stop listening to it. He thinks I'm torturing myself.

Not much else to report. I really like my job and feel like I get it so much more than I did my last job. Plus I'm writing, which puts me in an incredibly good mood. Working hard, but I'm enjoying the work.

We have been invited to a party this weekend way out in the East Bay (which is about an hour from where we live). The people throwing the party are A.'s former roommate and his fiancee, who just moved into a (reportedly) stinky house. The stinky house (previously inhabited by tenants who owned pets with bladder control problems) is right next door to two of our other friends, one of whom is the former roommate's ex-live-in-girlfriend.

Confused? We're only scratching the surface here. This is a group that has known each other for years and years and has seen practically every possible dating combination among them. Luckily, A. took the high road and never got involved in any of it.

Anyway, these are not people I enjoy hanging out with, these renters of the house with an odor. A. doesn't particularly enjoy it either, but he feels a sense of social obligation for some reason. They bore me. I'd really rather not drive for an hour to spend time with people I don't have anything in common with. But I will because I love him, and because I cannot suggest an alternative.