The Dud was here for the holidays, but holidays inevitably end, and so she went back home to El Paso today. Angel didn't want to go. Mom cried. I wanted to, but didn't. Then we got back home and the house was so empty. All the kids' toys were gone, and their clothes scattered everywhere, and the suitcases. Even my car is gone. Yup, Dud took Makiaveli. When Dad died, he left Mak' to me and for the Dud he left Hugo, the white Tracer. But when she took him in for a diagnostic at PepBoys, they told her his transmission's days were numbered. He's in some transmission repair shop waiting for his parts to come in, but Dud can't afford to wait - she starts school Tuesday. So we made a deal: she takes Mak' to El Paso (we know he'll make it, he's been there and back again a few times with me), and once Hugo gets fixed, I'll pick him up and then she and I can trade cars again. We've agreed to meet at some halfway point in about two to three weeks, Del Rio, probably, although I kinda wanna stay in Sanderson instead. That little town fascninates me.

In the meantime, though, we're minus a car. Mom used to drive Hugo around, and I'd take Mak' to work. Now that Dud has Mak' and Hugo's in the shop, we went from two cars to none. But things aren't so bad. I bought a car off a friend of mine for 400 bucks. It's an '84 Chrysler, really big ol' timer the way I like 'em. There's a few knicks to work out in him, but he'll do fine until I get my Mackers back. I glued the rear-view mirror back on this morning.

What? Hey, for 400 dollars, that ain't bad. Drives real smooth, too. Quieter than Makiaveli, actually, but then again, Mak's a loud fucker.

I also washed the new car while I was at it. Still don't know what I'm gonna name it. (Suggestions?) It's a wide car, dark metallic grey with a black leather top. Tinted windows. Fifth Avenue Edition, is what I think it's called, but I just got the big lug yesterday, so I'm not really sure.

It needs new tires. Badly. Other than that, now that the mirror's back up, I think I'm all set. Still miss my Toyota like crazy, though. It's the first time I'm without him since Pifas bought him for me years back.

17:50 I just got off the phone with the Dud. We've been on and off the phone since she left, but the signal's crappy. She keeps cutting off, and I think it's from where she's already going into the mountains. She's just passed Ozona, and she was asking me if she'd make it to Ft. Stockton okay with the gas she has (she figures I'd know since she's driving my car, dur-hurr). I told her she'll be fine at 3/4 of a tank, and that if she happens to change her mind about it anyway, she can always stop at Sheffield or Bakersfield. It's almost six o'clock here. I'm not really tired, or hungry, but I kinda wanna nap. Dud's kids tire me out! Still, I wish they were still here. It never feels like they're just visiting when they stay over. Probably because the Dud used to live here with Angel when she was pregnant with Anel�. Everytime they leave and I'm left with this feeling of nostalgic longing, I remind myself bitterly that this is what awaits me in a few years. Pifas already died. Mom's old. When it's her turn, and she's not around anymore, then I will truly be alone in this big, old house. Big for me anyway. Who even fuckin' needs three whole bedrooms and two bathrooms, with a pantry and a dining room? A big family, maybe, and that'd be great, but I'm not one for big families. I'm single. I've never been in anything close to a romantic relationship in my 25 years of life. I don't crave it, either.

But days like this, in the quiet stillness as the sun goes down over the palmtrees that pepper the horizon, I do crave for companionship. Just not the romantic kind. I suppose I just want a friend. My mother is my friend. So is my sister, and I promised as a kid to myself that I'd protect them. We all three protect each other. But the Dud doesn't need protecting anymore. She's married now, has her own life, her own future. My mother will die someday, and I will be left here, alone. No relatives or close friends in this city, even though it's my hometown. Ironic as that is, but yes. I have no close ties with anyone other than my immediate family. How can I want a friend when I refuse to believe in friendship? When I try to trust people and fail? When people hurt you, you grow wary. Most people eventually move past that point. But I live in a state of perpetual suspicion about those physically around me. Why is it I don't feel this with those I "know" online? Is it because we are divided by this monitor, because those people cannot see me, and if they hurt me, they are as simple to shut out of my life as it is simple to simply press a button or stop returning emails? All I'd have to do is to stop visiting a certain chat room, right? And yet these are the people I don't think I would shut out, ever. These are the people, the friends I truly love. Because I do love my internet aquaintences, even if I've never seen their faces, or heard their voices. This realm of cyber-bits and electronic pulses of ones and o's that separates me physically from them is also what frees me to trust and love them. It connects us and separates us at the same time...

It's mind-boggling.