Return of the Roadster Ech. My laptop's configsys decided to die so I'm typing from the hotel's TV Internet thingie. I hate it and I want it to die. I'm five second away from smashing this wireless keyboard over my head. Anyway, she cancelled on me last night. That's twice in the last two weeks. That makes it 29 times in the six months we've been hanging out. (okay, I might be embellishing). The point being this is just pathetic. I mean, the last few weeks (months?) there's only two things I've really wanted to do when I'm home: spend time with her or box. Sure there's industry parties happening all the time and Glenda makes sure I have someone to talk to, but I almost always go back to those two things. Logically, I'm ok with it. I know she has a lot going on at work, she has a boyfriend, and she needs to spend time taking care of her health. Emotionally, I'm struggling with it. I truly wish I meant something to her. "You let people walk all over you," she once told me. That's a lovely observation from someone at the head of the line, huh? The good news is that I'm not going to drown this all in vodka and I'm on the road so I can't drag Sandra back into the mix (mess?). I'm in New York until Tuesday and then I'm in Vegas from Thursday to Sunday. Thankfully being on the road helps me forget how stupid I let things get. Wow. I'd probably be a lot more stable if I stuck to my original plan of not seeing her anymore after that wonderful night in October. Oh yeah, happy new year.