in which Hello is magnified.

when you have a neighbor who has dogs much in the same way that you have a dog, there is little reason to ignore one another. especially when that neighor is a dyke, much in the same way that you are a dyke, lives only 1/2 block from where you live, and frequents the same dog-ish parks that you do. so you decide, 'by god, the next time i see this neighbor of mine, i will make the most confident and friendly eye contact that has ever been made in this town, and i will utter the universal greeting of good will. i will say Hello.'

i decided all this a week ago. since then i have not seen this neighbor anywhere, which has had the effect of pushing me unwittingly into QuasiStalker Mode. i am so determined to say Hello that i search up and down that 1/2 block, i scour the streets for the station wagon i casually noticed her getting out of awhile back. i did not even remember that i knew what kind of car she drove until i convinced myself that Hello needed to be said, and it was i that needed to say it. and now i find my brain flooding with useless facts about her. for instance, that her scarf is grey and black striped. my eyes have retrieved this piece of information from the icy depths of Longterm Memory and have done a transformer act into machines. machines designed only to search for anything grey and black striped, in depressing similarity to Where's Fucking Waldo. i need to come across that neighbor soon, and i need to say Hello.