Now. I know the basic facts of the case as they have been reported to me, and if they are accurate then, yeah, it does sound like it sucks to be M right now. Coincidentally, I have particular experience with the kind of situation she�s in, and I know that especially at first, it can be ugly. I�m not jealous and I don�t mistrust Steve. But this smells funny to me. I know that M has lots of friends who could serve as potential confidants because some weeks ago Steve attended a party full of them. I know that for someone in her situation, there is a reassuringly clear checklist of procedures to follow and professionals to consult, that not knowing what in the world to do is a state of mind that cannot last because the law�s on your side. I know that she was not the initiator of the breakup with Steve, a characterization on my part that is discreet understatement. I know that said breakup was, um, emotionally charged with respect to other issues that I have also had to deal with and I know they hit hard. I do not want to seem the paranoid and shrewish girlfriend, but I also know what it�s like, for instance, to have plans with Mr. Man and then his pal or ex-whatever or person for whom there are unresolved amorous feelings calls up and says Oh my god you wouldn�t believe the day I�ve had and I need to talk to you so badly and please please I beg of you won�t you meet me for one drink just one drink is all I ask. I say: But but but � Dude says: I�ll be done by nine. Come on, one drink. She sounded so upset on the phone, I think she was crying. Wouldn�t you do that for a friend in need? And of course I would, and of course I have given myself the directive always to trust people rather than assuming that they are motivated by secret treachery (or, not to beat a dead horse, that they are reading my diary when they�ve sworn up and down never to look for it), so there he goes off to the bar and here he comes back later and reporting Well she seems much better now, she�d managed to cheer up even before I got there, but I�m glad I went because it was great to hear her say how much she appreciated me, how I am her very best friend and the nicest guy she�s ever met, she�s so thrilled to have me in her life. The bottom line is that I know girls who have used the excuse of an emotional crisis, whether trumped up or not, as an means to maneuver themselves across a bar table from the guy who got away. The tears are flowing, the beers are flowing, the gratefulness is flowing, sometimes a suspicious or skeptical word about Mr. Man�s new cupcake sneaks into the mix � check, by the way � and I also know people who have gotten back together with their exes partly because the ex in question, mired in emotional crisis ditto, asked for a shoulder to cry on and then changed the subject to Oh how I have missed this shoulder of yours, oh how stupid I was not to realize what I had when I had you. I know this act. I hate to indict the sisterhood here, but it isn�t Steve I mistrust � it�s catty cagy women. I am not necessarily saying that M fits the bill. But it doesn�t look good.

You can relax, though � when Steve informed me, this morning at breakfast, about poor beset M and her shoulder requisition, after a brief pause during which my dark internal monologue of Oh this is great, this is just great, here I go about to get fucked over again the same goddamn way, can�t someone just eradicate these bitches from the earth like the scourge they are, from now on I swear I am only going to date ugly gum-diseased losers for whom there will be no sexual competition whatsoever ran its course, I did share my feelings with him, and you can go ahead and congratulate me. In the past when I�ve raised the pink flag like that, the response has been (a) sulking and hostile defensiveness (b) "You�re just jealous of the special bond we have, which you can�t understand because you don�t have anything like that in your life/are not capable of that level of personal trust"; (c) the suggestion that only a person who is profoundly untrustworthy herself would be capable of such baseless slanders; (d) "She always told me that one day you�d try to turn me against her" and faux-rueful acknowledgment that in addition to her bevy of other wonderful qualities we must now add a supernatural gift for divining the true character of others. Actually there are a few more but I got depressed enough writing those four and realizing what na�vet� and boneheadedness I have historically brought to my love life, so let�s move on. You see my point, I believe. Also where the flag-raising is concerned there is never a good time for it, since the situation doesn�t arise except in the context of the Lisa�s neediness, so in the act of reacting you are de facto showing coldness to someone who is on record as having asked for sympathy; you have tarred yourself with the same brush of incredibility that you would wield, and it is my contention that it�s a master artist who made you paint yourself into that corner in the first place. Anyway, to the list of Steve�s wonderful qualities we must now add the fact that he did not a or b or c or d, he listened to me name my concerns and the reasons I had them, and without explicitly conceding that I might be right about M � and I liked this too; I really respect a guy who doesn�t slag on his exes and makes no apologies for that to the currents � he agreed that I am not paranoid. I essentially argued from the perspective of the Folkenflik theory of interpersonal conduct � that sometimes the appearance of a conflict of interest is more damaging than the conflict itself, apologies to David F. for what I�m sure is an imperfect quote � and, how can I have been so lucky, it turns out that Steve is in the Folkenflik school himself. I offered my opinion, you already know it, that a clean breakup is a kind of moral responsibility to those who will come after you, and by clean I mean something that not only is clean but looks it, that shines. A clean breakup is also a moral imperative for you to sew things off between you and the ex and keep your distance until the scar begins to fade, even though it hurts. (Tacked to my bulletin board at home, under the photo of me in my Emma Peel costume from Halloween 1995 where I am aiming my gun at the camera, there is a yellowing headline I cut out of somewhere: If you�re going, stay gone.) Sometimes the same guys who will pull out that unfortunate alphabet on you will also try to trap you when, for instance as you are trying to explain this kind of cleanliness, you use the word "appearance": Aha, they will say, so you admit that it�s the appearance you care about, you�re not concerned after all with the way things are and what you care about is the way things look, and by the way how many of your former entanglements that seem aboveboard are in fact still percolating down where I can�t see them? This is the forensic equivalent of throwing an elbow � yes, I do care about things look and I want to conduct myself in such a way as not to bring my behavior into question, but that doesn�t mean that my behavior is questionable. I want other people not to have to question me in the first place, I want them to know that I not only deserve their trust but that I actively want it. And what�s wrong with that? I told Steve that in my book what M was doing was just not cool, and maybe I had an Old Testament as compared to the New Testament that was guiding her but, sorry, it was a point of reference and it was internally consistent and it was mine. I don�t know whether he�s going to meet M or not. But I do know that if he can hear me out on the subject, I have nothing to worry about. How can I have been so lucky? I don�t know that part either, but don�t think I�ll ever take it for granted.

I saw that movie last night. In my eagerness to flee the scene of the slime, I forgot my briefcase in the theater last night and realized, to my horror, that I was in the position of having to call up the theater and say, "Hello, my name is My Name and I saw 'The Real Cancun' tonight" and left something behind. Happily the staffer only asked for a description of the item, not where it had been left, and they have it and I can go pick it up tonight before cruising over to Jeanne�s with my delicious homemade salsa, ol�. My sister and I may go to Chicago over Fourth of July weekend with our respective fellas. I am going to go swimsuit shopping this weekend. Mrs. R. is one hell of a pal and another person I don�t take for granted and I will pen her a love letter here on this page sometime when I am feeling less self-consciously giddy about it. Another 24 hours hit-free from hospital servers.

Deb, who works in the clinic with me, is the best and nicest: she brought everyone unsissyish May Day bouquets with lilies and eucalyptus (and an orange rose for me!), and she just stopped by to tell me that there are also cookies and coconut cream pie in the conference room. Maybe I will go swimsuit shopping next weekend.