Hope Springs Eternal

So Diana is back at home in Loda now, but I gave Rachel my email address, so hopefully we'll still be able to talk as friends. I've been talking with my dad about the whole situation, and he thinks that if it's meant to be something will happen; after all, I can remember a bit of the hostility he recieved from my mom's side of the family, even when I was little. His side of the family was a lot more accepting, but in talking with him, he told me that it took time for my grandfather to accept my mom. Time, it seems, heals all wounds.

I guess all I can really do is wait and see what happens.

Meanwhile, Diana is convinced there's no such thing as changing her dad's mind. From what Rachel was telling me, he pretty much makes any guy that would consider dating her fill out an application and go through a whole interview process, and apparently he'd totally freak out if she were to bring home a guy who's other than lily-white.

There are very few times when I wouldn't mind being the typical blond- haired blue-eyed All-American boy, but this is definately one of them.

Ugh. Why does this always seem to happen to me???

Requiem for a Dream

This is bad. I'm doing it again. After all these years, after all the mistakes I've made in the past, I've started doing it again.


Science says that the strongest senses tied to memories are taste and smell.

I'd gone to my rack to grab a quick nap between watches while I was on duty, and before I gone to bed I'd pulled out my iPod to listen to some music while I fell asleep.

The next thing I knew, I was back at my apartment. I could smell her shampoo, taste her watermelon lip gloss as we kissed, touched, teased. Music was playing softly in the background somewhere, but I couldn't make out what it was. I could feel her shiver as I ran my fingers down her back, bit at her collarbone, and lightly pulled on her hair, then felt the sharp sensation of her nails gripping the small of my back. Her breathing quickened, and she gripped me tighter as I felt my pulse begin to race.

At that point, my eyes snapped open. I was back on the ship, lying in my rack staring up at the bunk above me. Her green eyes burned brightly, dancing in front of my face before the memory faded. In my right ear, Maroon 5 was softly playing.

Figures. The most sexually explicit album I bought in 2004. Every song on that disc is about sex in one way or another.

I skipped back to the beginning of the song and laid on my back, letting the memories come back to me of that night.

( Warning: Ted's Monday Night in Detail )