March 1995--Phil Finds TCB; Gypsy's Party; TCB Flame Wars; First SCA Event 

 

One day, Speaker offered to let me use his alternate screen name, Alone.  He didn't let everyone know it was his account, so I could be incognito that way.  I think I was out of hours and he wanted to keep talking to me.  He even trusted me enough to give me his password. 

 

While I was in teleconference with Speaker and Krafter and probably others, Nobody came in and began to troll, which is cyberspeak for stirring up trouble, giving out insults, trying to start arguments, etc.  He told all the people in tele how sad it was that they were on the computer on a Saturday, and to get a life.  (Yet he was in tele on a Saturday, too!  And I know I had a life, one that existed long before we got the modem.)  Pearl or Sharon was watching at the time.  I posted that he was probably saying all these things because he had no girlfriend.  He said to me, "And what about you, ALONE?"  But that didn't bother me because I had a boyfriend.  Speaker wasn't sure he liked my comment, though, because he had no girlfriend, either. 

 

Nobody trolled some more, getting everybody mad, until all of a sudden he disappeared from tele: Krafter had killed his connection.  He was now banned from TCB for a time, though he came on again soon with a new screen name (I believe he was Sub-Zero). 

 

One popular expression among TCB users was "doh!"  It was generally used in Farwest Trivia when someone didn't get to answer a trivia question for one reason or another.  I began to use it online after a while, and I think my roommates would either use it sometimes or joke about it. 

 

My roommies and I helped each other out in Farwest Trivia.  Also, Ish told Pearl once that the answers to the music questions were generally the Bee Gees or the Beatles, and he seemed to be right. 

 

Krafter had paid for the first month on TCB for both Sharon and me.  Now that he was dating Sharon, he still paid for her, though I didn't expect the same and paid my own fees. 

 

With all the guys now in my life, I told Charles and Pearl once that I was having more fun now than I did when I was engaged. 

 

Catherine wrote a story about Cugan and me in the style of her romance novels: "The Coy Mistress."  I couldn't believe what she wrote.  I can't imagine writing something that explicit about my own friends. 

 

One evening, Stubby drove Stimpy and me to his house for a Beavis and Butthead party.  Though once I'd hated the show, Phil got me into it.  Now, watching it with Stimpy and attaching good memories to it, I liked it even more.  I was the only girl in a room full of guys, which I loved.  

 

Stubby told us he was engaged to a girl from Indiana whom he'd met online but never seen in person.  We thought he was crazy.  Stimpy said when he saw her picture, "How do you know this is really her picture and not her daughter's or her niece's?  How do you know she told you the truth about her age?" 

 

Stubby was also supposed to go meet her at some point.  I don't know how the whole thing turned out, if he ever actually married the girl. 

 

Once, Stimpy and I were in Teleconference, cuddling and kissing and all that, when all of a sudden, Crystal Dragon hosed us off.  

 

One night, when Krafter, Stimpy and Randy were at the apartment with all of us roommies, we watched The Lion King and my copy of Wayne's World."  My younger brother gave me World for Christmas a year or two before, but I'd been saving it, waiting to watch it when all my friends were together.  This was the perfect time.  Now that I could hear everything and had my friends around me, I could enjoy it and realize it actually was funny.  Several of my friends had seen it in the theaters, so it was the second time for them, as well. 

 

My cat Hazel died in late January or early February.  I thought I was getting over her death, but of course, I hadn't gone home yet, so it hadn't hit me that she was gone for good.  The cause of Hazel's death wasn't certain; Mom wondered if her love of Twinkies was actually a symptom of diabetes.  A few months before her death, Hazel had grown emaciated, had worms, and lost much of her hair, so it was hard to pet her.  For her, death was probably a welcome release. 

 

Stimpy was only nineteen.  I hadn't dated a "younger man" before, unless you count Aaron from the pre-school and Kindergarten department in Sunday School.  It was only two years' difference, but when you're twenty-one, that seems like a lot.  Sharon was seeing Krafter, who was a whole five years older than she was.  That was unbelievable.  Even the Vampire, at only four years older than me, seemed like an old man.  Charles seemed old, too, though not as much.  In your college-aged youth, just as in your younger years, even one year's difference seems like a lot.  I may have now known from Catherine that Cugan was twenty-seven, making him seem positively ancient.   

 

People online joked about computer geeks, and I said, "I like geeks."  I wasn't one myself--I didn't sit around talking about computer programming languages and the latest upgrades--but I liked geeks.  If I didn't, I wouldn't have liked Krafter or Stimpy, and I thought they were cool. 

 

Ish Kabibble was a cool guy of about 33 who was generally regarded as the nicest guy online.  Even Avenger and Lima liked to talk to him.  One day, he said he found an obituary saying Ish Kabibble had died.  Now, for him, "Ish Kabibble" had been some nonsense word that popped into his head when he chose his handle.  It turned out there was some musician, jazz I think, with that same name.  It was weird to see his own obituary. 

 

Turtle, a teenager who would be jailbait for him, had an obvious crush on him, and made passes at him whenever she found him online.  Ish, of course, didn't encourage her, but seemed to find it funny. 

 

Ish, on the other hand, met Pearl online and wanted to meet her in real life.  Pearl didn't know what to think.  He was so much older than she was, and she didn't know what he looked like or what he was like in person. 

 

One day, Sharon told me that Phil was now on TCB!  She couldn't remember his handle, just part of it.  One day, I saw a new person online, Crash Helmet.  I had a weird feeling about him, checked his registry, and knew it was him.  He gave his full name and said his favorite music was alternative.  That was a switch!  He used to say he didn't like alternative, though because of me he might end up liking it.  I don't know where he got the name Crash Helmet, because he didn't have a motorcycle. 

 

It was a shock to see him online.  It seemed that, not only did guys break up with me and then join the Zetas, but now they went on TCB!  Even Charles, who said he didn't want to pledge because it would be like boot camp all over again, had joined the Zetas.  Was he the next to go on TCB?  Would Stimpy come to Roanoke and join the Zetas?  (Neither happened, fortunately.) 

 

One night, I went online and found both Crash Helmet and Stimpy.  In those days, I didn't feel the need to keep much personal information out of my registry, except for my phone number, so Phil could probably see my full name just by pulling it up.  He'd go and play in tele and joke around and such things; I rarely talked to him.  I paged Stimpy and said that was the guy I told him about.  I joined "Crash" and the others in tele, filled with a certain curiosity, wondering what was going to happen.  I wondered if he would check my registry and realize who I was.  I wondered what I would say to him, what he would say to me and the others in tele.  I wondered how Stimpy would treat him (as far as I know, he didn't talk much to him). 

 

Now both Peter and Phil were on the BBS with me, when I thought this was my own thing.  Phil had never shown much interest in going on BBS's like I did; I think he specifically said once that he didn't want to.  I went to BBS's to get away from exes, and there they both were!  Peter had always been into such things, so that wasn't a big surprise, but how in the world had Phil ended up on TCB?  I may have asked him once, but I don't remember what the answer was. 

 

I didn't like seeing him there, seeing him playing in tele, there in my territory.  I didn't like seeing him at all, though my hatred for him had abated months before.  I wondered how long he'd be around on TCB.  (Not very long at all, it turned out.) 

 

One night, Stimpy flirted with a girl online in front of me in tele, and I pretended to be mad.  Privately, however, I whispered to Stimpy that he could go out with her if he wanted to.  He said he didn't really want to date anybody else.  I also asked if he wanted us to tell each other when we went out with other people.  He said no.   

 

I was starting to wonder, however, if he liked me more than I liked him.  I hoped not, but if he didn't want to date anyone else, that was a distinct possibility. 

 

I also liked to make nicknames out of people's handles.  For example, Speakery, The for The Elite Lamer, Lord for Jesus Christ (yes, there really was somebody with that handle), Flez for Flezter. 

 

One of my favorite songs of the time: "Against the 70s" by Mike Watt with Eddie Vedder, about the return of 70s fashions, music, etc.  It says, "The kids of today should defend themselves against the 70s.  It's not reality, just someone else's sentimentality.  It won't work for you. ... Look what it did to us."  I loved it because all these high schoolers and college freshmen around me were dressing like the 70s, the same decade that my generation made fun of because the fashion/pop music was so ridiculous. 

 

Pearl invited over a national, Christian theater group that did skits and things for InterVarsity groups.  They came on Wednesday, March 1.  Pearl told us one of the guys (who was our age) used to be a hit man, and we should have him tell us the story during lunch.  So we did. Here's a summary of what he said: 

 

He was on a bus sitting next to a woman, maybe middle-aged or older, during his travels for this group, and he started telling her he was a hit man.  He told her all the things he did, all the hits he made.  She didn't know what to think, sitting next to a murderer.  

 

Then, finally, he admitted that he was just fibbing--he never was a hit man. 

 

He had us all going for a while, with Pearl's help.  I think some of us figured it out sooner than I did (not surprising because of the NVLD), but I didn't know until he said it that he'd never actually been a hit man.  Here I was, sitting at the dinner table behind the partition, thinking how weird it was that a Christian guy our age had killed people in the past.  And then I found out it wasn't true.  That was a relief, of course, but I felt a little foolish. 

 

One of the people online, Gypsy, probably named after the Gypsy robot on Mystery Science Theater: 3000, invited people to a TCB user party for Saturday, March 4.  Krafter and Stimpy wanted Sharon and me to come to it with them.  This was a popular, invitation-only party, probably held every once in a while.  Gypsy and his wife Nympho didn't know us, so they didn't invite us.  Krafter and Stimpy petitioned them.  Gypsy and Nympho sent us amused e-mails saying we could come, and inviting us to the party.  

 

Late one night, I went to Country Kitchen with Krafter and Stimpy.  I sat next to Stimpy and laughed as he said, "For once, we're bringing chicks to Gypsy's party."  He moved his hands like he was setting baby chicks on the table, and said, "Peep!  Peep!" 

 

Sharon and I walked into the party not knowing what to expect.  We recognized almost no one, of course, except for the ones I saw on Krafter's video of the BBS party.  Stubby was there at one point.  Nympho gave us plastic drinking cups for our pop, and wrote ZIGGY and NYSSA on them. 

 

I found out which person was Flezter.  He sat watching someone else play on the computer.  He was cute--I think he was a redhead--but only seventeen, so jailbait.  After I gave him love advice online (he had a crush on a girl at work and wondered if he should send her flowers from a secret admirer), we had become fast friends.  When we found each other in tele, he wrote "Freak!" and I wrote "Psycho!"  Now, to introduce myself to him, I went up to him and said, "Psycho!"  He turned to me and said, "Freak!" 

 

"Flezter" was hard for me to say--I have a dyslexic tongue at times--so I often said it "Fletzer," and originally thought it was spelled that way.  I don't know where he got the name.  

 

I think we were taken into a bedroom to put our coats away, and when I came out, lo and behold, who should be standing before me but Peter!  He said, "Sh--, I wasn't expecting to see you here!  How are you doing?"  After chatting a bit, he said, "You've changed so much.  You look so different, much more confident." 

 

Ish was at the party.  Sharon and I had been charged with getting a good look at him and reporting to Pearl.  (According to Turtle, he was the sexiest and nicest guy on the board.  We told Pearl he was both nice and cute, not ugly or anything, so don't worry.) 

  

Gypsy and Nympho had their computer all set up for logging in.  All night there was a steady stream of people to and from it.  Sharon said, "That's so sad.  They come here to meet people in person, and what do they do?  They turn around and go online at the party!" 

      

Stimpy and I sat on the floor across from Peter and his date, a pretty girl with long, brown hair like mine.  I don't remember if it was curly or not.  We talked and laughed and had a good time.  Peter and his girlfriend left early, and after they were gone, somebody quipped, "They're off to go have sex."  I didn't need that image. 

 

Later, Sharon said to me, "You two have the perfect ex-relationship--you can both be in the same place with dates, and not even care."  Which was ironic, given all the troubles we'd had with each other since the breakup.  But those troubles and enmities had been left behind, and we could finally be friends again.  Each could move on to other people without it hurting the other the least bit.  

 

Though I was shy, I did smile and laugh a lot.  Nobody and his brother were there; they were two short, skinny teenagers, who looked no older than fifteen.  They didn't act mean at all, but tossed around a balloon with Sharon.  Sharon later said how much she enjoyed herself, that she felt more at ease than she expected.  She did seem to be more talkative than I was.  

 

Avenger and Lima were there, however.  I finally got to see what they looked like.  When I heard the young girl with the short, blonde, maybe reddish-blonde hair was her, I felt uneasy, remembering how mean she was to people online, and the way I muttered "Avenger" with distaste whenever she came online.  She said and did nothing to me; though I sat near her for part of the night, I don't remember speaking to her. 

 

Later on, people began to leave, leaving our group, Ish, Stubby and maybe a few others.  I felt more relaxed now, and it was easier to talk.  I cuddled with Stimpy on the couch.  Gypsy and Nympho sat on chairs nearby. 

 

Gypsy was a dark-haired man with a mustache, and Nympho was a blonde, both of them probably in their 30s.  They lived in a small rented house, a duplex I believe, and another couple lived above them.  They joked that they could hear whenever that enthusiastic couple had sex. 

 

While I was at the party, Catherine played Dungeons and Dragons.  The next day or on Monday, she told me about her first D&D game with Cugan as the Dungeon Master.  She said, "He looked up hopefully when I walked in the door, then looked so depressed when he saw you weren't with me."  She told me about the other players, and said, "Do not look at J.J.  He's cute, but do not look at him."  She wanted me to have eyes only for Cugan. 

 

She rolled up her character that day, Iliana (I may be spelling that wrong), a fighter/mage elf.  (All the characters in the campaign at that time were elves.)  

      

On Sunday, March 5, Catherine and I planned to go to the SCA meeting, and I was to be brought back to the campus by Cugan.  That day, however, there was a bad snowstorm, so Catherine called me and said we weren't going.  Apparently she didn't call Cugan, however, because he, panicked, called her from the meeting to see if we were okay.  He feared we'd driven into a ditch somewhere.  

 

Soon after Gypsy's party, Sharon heard that there had been some sort of flame war over Pamela in the forums, and checked it out.  I also did, soon after.  Lima, Avenger and possibly others were flaming Pamela and telling everyone how "horrible" she was.  Pamela, of course, got upset.  I think she even tried to defend herself, but they just flamed her more, and in the end she said her presence in the forums seemed to just bring on more trouble, so she wasn't going to read or write anything in them anymore.  It's such a shame when nice people are forced out by mean ones.  It's such a shame when a bully chooses to justify his or her behavior rather than repenting of it. 

 

I was so upset by this that I wrote a letter chewing out Avenger and Lima, and anyone else who was flaming Pamela, for bullying her.  I unwisely accused them of immaturity--though, as you see in the link above, immaturity is a common trait of bullies--which would keep coming back to haunt me.  Avenger wrote a scathing reply, but she seemed to disagree and yet agree with me at the same time, as Speaker would say when I met him on the 8th.  She seemed to defend her actions, and yet say that we should all respect Pamela and let the thread die.  She was sure one to talk about respecting Pamela!  She was as guilty as the rest of them of harassing her.  Lima complained that the thread was old and people should look at the dates of the messages (though, from what I'd seen in teleconference, what I said still needed to be said; even if the thread had died, their harassment of Pamela hadn't). 

 

Meanwhile, Speaker was avoiding Avenger, and often typed "ignore Avenger" when he went online.  This meant nothing she did or said online would show up on his computer, as if she were never there.  She was harassing him now.  She knew his real name, and was teasing him about it, among other things.  Once, I found Pigpen and Speaker online, and Pigpen said to Speaker, "Is Avenger being mean to you again?"  (Speaker told me at some point that he didn't know why Pigpen and Cankersore liked to come see him every Saturday.) 

 

Stimpy soon sent me an e-mail saying, "Please don't say any more to them about this.  Do this for me!"  They were vicious people who loved arguing, and that was all I would get out of them. 

 

So I stopped saying anything in that thread.        

 

Probably around the time of the Big Flame War, which happened later that month, Avenger and some of her friends started voting in one of the forums on whether or not Franz, whom some of us called Znarf, was cool.  (Franz was in college now, a freshman at MSOE, or Milwaukee School of Engineering, which was also Cugan's alma mater.)  I voted that he was cool. Avenger said my vote didn't count because only the cool people could vote.  Apparently she meant that only her worshippers could vote.  She didn't seem to want to have anyone else on the BBS to be thought "cool" except for her and her cronies.  As far as I was considered, everyone in her clique was very uncool, and nice people like my roommates, Krafter, Stimpy, Ish, Speaker, and others were cool.  According to Love Our Children, such polls are yet another means of cyberbullying.  Check out the answer to the "Bullies prey on the weak" myth here: It says, among other things, that "bullies prey on people with a kind heart" and "bullies are irresponsible people who refuse to accept personal responsiblity for their behaviour and the effect of their behaviour on other people."  Also look at the answers to "Victims are unlikeable" and "People who get bullied are wimps": basically, these are myths, the victims are normally likeable, and their good points are seen by bullies are vulnerabilities.  Let's not let bullies decide for us who the cool people are.  This is why I keep this story in here and haven't tempered the wording, even after discovering that Avenger has found this chapter of my Memoirs and read it: Because bullying in any form has always been, always will be, and the victims need to know that it's not right, they're not weirdos, they don't have to let the bullies decide who they are or what they can accomplish.  Victims of bullying can read the articles I've linked to for ideas on how to combat bullying, and bystanders can get past the myths and stand up for the bullied. 

 

A year or two after this, Avenger tried to ridicule and harass another woman (who was older than she was, which, I believe, Pamela was too), the same as she did to Pamela.  She said this woman had done something bad to one of her friends.  I didn't know the other woman's side, so I don't know what really happened, but whatever the case, I thought Avenger should not be carrying this harassment out in the open on the public forums.  I couldn't imagine anyone wanting to see this in the forums.  The woman found Avenger's comments amusing--things like, she was ugly and fat--and zinged her right back, which I admired her for.  The forum-op broke in and said if the argument continued, she would move it to the Pit forum (which was for arguing).  

 

This was in US News and World Report for March 22, 1999, in the article "E-Mail Nation": "Emboldened by E-mail's seeming anonymity, kids send bomb threats to school and hate mail to teachers--and are often suspended from school if caught.  Moreover, they could be sued for libel, says attorney Christopher Wolf of Washington, D.C., if they defame someone's character in an E-mail" (p. 58). 

 

Avenger seemed like the ringleader of a clique which worshipped her.  The "clique" title fits because other people were kept out and were ridiculed.  Ish said privately to me once, after I'd read a message from Lima, that Lima just did whatever Avenger did and didn't seem to have a mind of his own.  Also, Avenger, Lima and a few of the others couldn't even type a regular, non-flame message without cussing.  Since the BBS was set up to censor such words, their messages kept showing a bunch of asterisks, making them hard to understand.  If the words didn't show up anyway, why bother writing them?  And the whiny group kept crying "censorship" because their swear words didn't show up, even though it was a family BBS and CD had every right to restrict such words on his own BBS.  As for Avenger, she had a serious persecution complex, and thought everyone over twenty (Lima's age) was out to get her and all teenagers, and owed her something.  No matter what anyone said, no matter what the subject or how totally unrelated to kids, in her mind it must have been said as a cutdown on kids.  Not only that, but she and her clique showed absolutely no respect for authority, cutting down on the sysop just as viciously as anyone else--despite the fact that he could ban them all from the BBS if he wanted to. 

 

I liked to play online with a teenager named Mustang, and we shared stories of our genies (mine was Zara, and I think his was Abu).  To my surprise, I found one day (probably after the Flame War) that he was getting to be good friends with the clique.  I really, really hoped he wouldn't start acting like them, since he seemed like such a nice, fun guy. 

 

The Big Flame War began after Gypsy's party and before the BBS party on the 18th.  I believe it went on for several weeks, so in the beginning I may have still been dating Stimpy (or just broken up with him), and in the end I was with Cugan.   

 

This is how it began: In one of the forums, probably /events, CD and others discussed the BBS bowling party which was to be on the 18th.  They wondered what time it should be, and suggested some late evening times.  Sharon posted a message saying that they should keep in mind that many users were under eighteen and might have curfews, and the time should be early enough that they could join in the fun, too.  She was just being sensitive to the needs of the kids online. 

 

Avenger posted a nasty message saying, "ExCUSE me!" and how sick she was of adults looking down on kids like that.  It was a clear case of someone not reading a message thoroughly and reading in things that were never there.  Stimpy posted a message quoting her and replying simply, "Um--um--what?  Um--um--what?" 

 

No matter how much Sharon tried to explain that she didn't mean it that way, Avenger refused to listen to her.  Instead, Avenger insulted her in various ridiculous ways.  For example, she accused her of sleeping with her professors to get good grades.  Irate that Avenger would say such a thing about my friend, I wrote that she was totally wrong, and told her off.  I did for Sharon what I would want a friend to do for me. 

 

Avenger and her clique began a vicious attack on the both of us, making personal remarks and cutting us down.  And this all because Sharon was trying to be sensitive to the needs of the younger users!  I didn't know back then that this was called trolling, or baiting people to start fights online.  I didn't know that it was best to ignore such mean, rude people.  Sharon apparently didn't know this, either, because we both got caught up in a Big Flame War with Avenger and her clique, which included Nobody and Sub-Zero.  There is no need to go into details; flame wars on the Internet are now a dime a dozen.  But eventually all sorts of people began taking both sides. 

 

When the contested bowling party finally happened, Pearl joined Sharon and me.  Though Pearl and I didn't bowl, we all joined a group with Krafter, CD, and Ish. Avenger and her clique were in the lane right next to ours, and CD joked, "Nobody say anything about maturity!"  Avenger ignored us all, of course.  This was Pearl's first look at Avenger; she later told Sharon and me that Avenger had this snobby or snotty way of holding her head and looking at people, which Pearl imitated for us.  She said, "It was like she was thinking, 'I'm hot.'" 

 

Though Pearl wasn't in the Flame War (and was sick of hearing Sharon and me say "Avenger this" and "Avenger that"), one night she found Avenger online, and somehow got into an argument with her about how Avenger was treating us. 

 

One girl told me that Pigpen was two-faced, and would seem nice, then do something really mean to you.  She pretended to be this girl's friend, then stabbed her in the back.  I forget the details, but it had something to do with the girl's brother.  I was now on guard against Pigpen being two-faced to me.  Pigpen had seemed like my friend because I was friends with Speaker, but now she turned two-faced to me, too, joining in with the Avenger clique, making me believe this girl told the truth. 

 

This whole thing also did a number on my self-esteem, making me doubt myself and my looks, and wonder if I was as awful as they said.  I wasn't, of course, but the residual effects lingered long afterwards.  I shouldn't have let little Avenger and her friends get to me like that, but I did.  It was like middle school all over again.  (And yet she insisted she was mature....)  One big problem with bullying is the way sensitive, kind people are made to look like idiots and nerds by the insensitive, immature and unkind.  Instead of accepting it as a "part of life," bullying of any kind should be stopped by bystanders and/or those in authority: teachers, parents, forum moderators.  When a bully is supported by his friends, when authority figures aren't interested in stepping in--even resorting to blaming you for the bullying, when the bully "gets away with it"--this makes it much harder for the bullied to reach "closure." 

 

At one point, I heard that harassment online was illegal, and sent a message to CD asking if he could step in.  He said the best thing to do would be to ignore Avenger, Lima and Nobody, and they would get bored and go away. 

 

CD and Krafter set up a secret forum only for people who were invited to join it, something that wouldn't show up in the list of forums.  This way, only the nice people could be in the forum and wouldn't have to deal with the Avenger trolls.  (I didn't know this usage of the word "troll" until 1998, so I didn't actually call them that.)  It was called the /elite forum, and in the beginning included maybe a handful or a dozen people: me, Sharon, Pearl, Ish, Krafter, Stimpy, CD, a young girl named Grace and her boyfriend.  If one of us wanted a friend to join, we would mention the friend in the forum, and if everyone agreed, this person was invited in.  This worked for a few days, but then Lima, who was Grace's brother (talk about siblings who are total opposites), came over by the computer and saw the /elite forum when Grace was online one day.  He got mad, wanted his own forum, and told the others in the Avenger clique, who promptly cried, "Censorship!"  The /elite forum was scrapped, especially when CD or one of the others decided maybe it wasn't such a good idea.  The Pit, or /thepit, however, was formed.  Here, anyone could argue all they wanted, but it had to be kept out of all the other forums.  We applauded this improvement. 

 

I finally wrote a message intending to end the whole thing.  I set things straight about accusations made against me, which some of the kids had believed merely on Avenger's word, and said I would stop my part of the argument. 

 

Ish, one of my supporters, saw my letter and approved.  I soon checked the responses, however, and it was just Lima saying, "Blah blah blah," nothing more intelligent from any of them, and Lima saying we must worship them (or something like that) before we could ever be in their good graces.  Like I even wanted to be in the good graces of a group of bullies.  I complained to Ish about these responses, and he said that group doesn't want to read anything longer than a few paragraphs.  Considering how mean these people were in general, I suppose I shouldn't have expected that they'd listen to me and lay off. 

 

Ish and I were in tele when Lima, probably Avenger, and maybe others showed up.  I whispered to Ish that I would act nice to these people because, as the Bible says, that would "pour burning coals over their heads."  I greeted Lima with the usual "hello Lima bean--olleh amil neab," but he made some strange remark about "groupies."  Then he started talking about bowing down and worshipping him; I certainly didn't do that, though I may have joked around a bit.  Then Lima and the others ganged up on me, despite my attempts to be nice, and treated me the same as they did Pamela.  Sharon, who was watching, said I should show them a thing or two by just leaving.  I think this is what I did.  I then paged Ish about it, and he consoled me. 

 

Sharon wrote a letter to everyone saying that those who adopt online "personas" different from their own personalities should realize that some people online are real, not "personas," and do get hurt in real life by things they read online. 

 

For the next several days, I refused to go into the forums.  I may even have stayed away from the BBS for a couple days. 

 

CD soon forced Avenger to apologize to Sharon, which she did, sort of, with a public message in the forums.  I was upset, though, because she apologized only to Sharon when she should have also apologized to me.  I deserved an apology for her bullying of me, just as much as Sharon did.  I don't remember how CD made her apologize to Sharon--maybe he threatened to ban her from the board--but it was a victory for our side. 

 

Either late that year or in the next year, Avenger wrote on the forums how much she liked Third Rock From the Sun, and sympathized with the aliens for being different and being misunderstood.  She actually said she didn't make fun of people for how they look or dress, because that was stupid.  What a hypocrite!  She had made all sorts of personal remarks about my looks and dress during the Big Flame War. 

 

Around this time, CD or Krafter posted a warning to all the users on TCB to not use the same password on different BBS's.  I didn't go on Solaris, a rival BBS, very much, especially since it was apparently just some kid trying to go up against TCB instead of just having his own BBS and supporting all the other ones in the area.  But it was popular with the Avenger clique, who figured out people's passwords (such as Pamela's), began logging in as those users, and left nasty messages to other users and on the forums.  The innocent users looked bad and had to explain that no, they didn't write the messages.  I was afraid to go on Solaris during the Flame War, for fear the same thing would happen to me. 

 

Catherine started planning a movie night, and we planned to play Dungeons and Dragons on Saturday the 11th.  Cugan called me to chat several times before then.  He had a musical phone number and a soothing, gentle, pleasant-sounding phone voice.  He said he liked playing D&D at about noon, but Catherine told him it was hard to get me up before then.  He'd been to Ireland; I was jealous. 

 

Catherine also called me on the phone a few times.  When I told her Cugan had been to Ireland, she said, as one of the reasons I should go out with him, "He's a world traveler."  Then, "Just listen to how soothing his name is."  She cooed, "COO-gan!  COOO-gan!" 

 

At first, neither Cugan nor I said much to each other about dating, despite how pleasant and chatty our phone conversations were.  It was an unspoken understanding, and I was too nervous to bring it up.  But then Cugan said with a smile in his voice,  

 

"Is Catherine pushing you as much as she is me?" 

 

One day at lunch, I sat with my friends, as usual, and Persephone and Phil sat with us.  I don't know why Phil sat with us, since Persephone had broken up with him for good and none of the rest of us liked him.  Persephone and I sat across from each other, and somehow got on the subject of men.  I went on and on about Cugan and Stimpy, and how fun it was to date two guys at once.  We both laughed about it. 

 

Phil said nothing at all to anyone. 

 

Then, all of a sudden, he got up in a huff and left.  He didn't come back. 

 

I was both amused and mystified.  Why should Phil care who I dated?  It had been many months now since he left me, and he made it clear he did not want to come back.  I sometimes wonder if he was thinking of getting back together with me.  If he was, he was soon discouraged. 

 

On Tuesday, March 7, Stimpy and I went on a triple date with Krafter and Sharon, and Ish and Pearl.  This was the first time Pearl met Ish.  I think we dressed up a bit.  We went to Country Kitchen at 6pm.  We had fun, though Pearl wasn't sure about Ish, and the guys kept going on and on about computers.  Pearl thought Ish was too old for her.  Now, if Turtle had been in her place, you know she would have drooled all over him!  Darn statutory laws.... 

 

Soon after this, Pearl met W-- online and agreed to go on a date with him.  He was between eighteen and twenty, probably more like eighteen, and a good friend of Flezter, who said, "Don't hurt W--."  After the date, however, Pearl came back complaining of the psychotic time she'd just had.  I forget if W-- himself was part of this, or if it was just the circumstances, but I think he was.  I don't remember much of the details, but I do remember that near the end of the evening they stopped at his house, where he soon argued with his family over something.  That night or the next, W-- said to Sharon online, "Should I talk to Pearl?  I'm afraid she thinks I'm psycho!"  I think Sharon encouraged him to.  Despite all this, W-- did seem to be a nice guy. 

 

On or before Wednesday, March 8, Speaker seemed to ignore me whenever he came online.  I got mad at him for this.  Then in the late afternoon, just before dinnertime, he called Sharon.  We'd never spoken to him outside of TCB before, so this was quite an event.  Sharon wanted to give me the phone, and I grumbled,  

 

"If he even wants to talk to me." 

 

He did, so I took the phone.  Speaker was surprised and, I think, amused that I was mad at him, and explained what had been going on.  (I think he was just playing around.)  He said I had "a cute Southern accent," which surprised me because I didn't have a Southern accent, just a mix of S-- and South Bend accents.  Of course, my mom sometimes sounded Southern with her Michigan accent, so maybe some of that had rubbed off on me.  Speaker had a cute accent, himself, with a strong "o" in his "no's," even stronger than in the local accents.  I believe he was from M--. 

 

I said I wanted to meet him, but he kept saying no, and "Why do you want to meet me?  You don't want to meet me."  He said it all playfully, making me wonder how serious he was.  I finally talked him into meeting me, and we decided to meet on Wednesday at 6:30 in the Campus Center lounge.  We'd have dinner at Burger King, and then watch an episode of Doctor Who in my apartment.  I figured these things fit Krafter's specifications for safely meeting a user: a public place, and my roommies would be in the apartment.  He said he'd be wearing a blue coat, not zippered; jeans; and a black shirt.  His hair would be brown. 

 

I went to the Campus Center lounge at that time with my Nyssa cup from Gypsy's party, and waited for quite some time, watching the TV.  It was just me and the guy working at the information desk.  Had Speaker stood me up?  I got up to go back to the apartment and look for him on TCB, but on my way out, I saw a guy fitting his description right outside the Campus Center.  His hair was about shoulder-length and curly, and though he had unusual features, he wasn't bad-looking.  He asked if I was Nyssa, and to my great delight he was Speaker.  He said he was late because I thought he was from a different place than he was, and gave him the wrong directions, so he had to stop and get new ones.  Oopsie. 

 

We went to Burger King in S--, where we spoke of Avenger.  (The Big Flame War was just an embryo at the time.)  We returned to my apartment and watched the episode of Doctor Who, possibly "Paradise Towers."  I gave Speaker one of my college senior pictures, which had just arrived, and said, "Have a picture of your Nyssie."  I didn't like the pictures, since I forgot to remove my glasses, but my friends thought they were good.  They were certainly better than the ones from junior year. 

 

We got along well in person, and often flirted online, but he kept saying, "You're Stimpy's Nyssie" and acting like he didn't want a girlfriend.  I told him Stimpy and I agreed we could date anybody we wanted, but that changed nothing.  Speaker said he wanted to be single all his life, despite his complaints about no one ever wanting to date him.  He also didn't like having to compete with other guys. 

 

In those days my roommies and I still didn't know why the vacuum cleaner kept spitting stuff out, so there were hairballs and dust bunnies all over the place.  Since I wore socks and no shoes inside, a lifelong habit, I'd sit down and find blonde and brown hairballs sticking to my socks.  Speaker laughed. 

 

InterVarsity had a Lock-In from 7pm on Friday the 10th to noon on the 11th.  It was supposed to be a sleepover in the Ley Chapel basement, but there weren't enough people, so we made it a party in the apartment.  Krafter and Stimpy came. 

 

At the time I thought I could handle dating two, three, even four people at once.  I felt no need to make a decision yet.  Other people were able to date around, and there was nothing ethically wrong with it as long as the guys knew they weren't my one and only.  After what I'd been through with Peter, Shawn and Phil, I didn't want to commit to one person and find out that, yet again, it was the wrong one. 

 

However, I soon discovered that when I was with Cugan I thought of Stimpy, and when I was with Stimpy I thought of Cugan.  Then there was the other guy I wrote to....I felt pulled every which way.  Though even my mom said it was okay to date around, at my core it felt wrong, like I should be finding one guy to date and potentially marry.  Still, as I said, I was wary about commitment. 

 

Just before the Dungeons and Dragons game and movie night, which was planned for the 11th, Catherine told me she'd sent Cugan two letters.  In one, she pretended to be in love with him, and used the terms she'd wanted me to use in my first letter, such as "coy wanton advances" and "sultry attractiveness."  Along with that letter she sent one that read, "Please disregard my first letter!"  She explained it was just a joke.  Despite the second letter, the first one still concerned Cugan, who didn't know how to take it.  After all, Catherine was married!  Apparently he wasn't yet used to Catherine's flirty ways. 

 

Catherine's scheme for the movie night was to invite Cugan and me, Cindy and Luke, maybe Tara and Randy, and probably Sharon and Krafter.  But the only ones who could go were Cugan and me. 

 

On Saturday morning, Catherine picked me up around 11am so we could get to the Dungeons and Dragons game in M-- by noon.  The movie night was set for 5pm at her house, which I'd never been to before.   

 

We got to My Parents' Basement, a small gaming shop on one of the downtown streets of M--.  In the back was a screen hiding a large table from the customers.  This was the gaming table.  The gaming area was cramped, the seats uncomfortable and hard to get to.  This was partly a storage area, and had an outside door and a vending machine.  A fabric and sewing shop was right next door and on the right, with an entrance in the wall of the gaming shop.  You'd go through this to reach the door to the basement, where you found the badly maintained toilet.  The gaming shop was set up with sundry items you'd expect to find in such a store: miniatures along the wall, various boxes and books belonging to various role-playing games (even Doctor Who).  Various kinds of dice were on the counter with the cash register, which was along the wall shared with the sewing shop and close to the outside door. 

 

The second time I went there, I brought money and started putting together my own collection of D&D things, replacing the ones Phil had let me use during the summer of '94: a gold nugget die, the Bard's handbook, a player's guide, and a die with red and pink flecks.  I would have gotten one exactly like Phil's flecked die, with twenty sides, but Catherine begged for it, so I got the twelve-sided version instead.  I was to find out much later that Phil probably got his nugget and flecked die from this very same store.  He used to go to it a lot, and even knew Cugan's friend Laura, who either owned it or worked there at that time.  I believe that by now, she no longer owned it, though she worked there until mid-1999, when she moved to Madison. 

 

I also got my own starter set of blue dice, with every kind I would likely need, except for a hundred-sided die, which I got when I went to my first Gen-Con in Milwaukee in 1996.  Having my own copies of all Phil's cool gaming stuff,  broke my last ties with him.  I stopped longing to use his Bard's handbook, player's guide, gold nugget or red die, because I had my own.  Eventually I even bought a brownish red, felt dice bag with a drawstring opening, my first step in personalizing my gaming gear. 

 

But on March 11, I had to borrow some of Cugan's dice. 

 

The first time I saw him again, even though we'd talked on the phone, he was still practically a stranger.  I also wondered how he really felt about me.  Some of my nervousness was calmed--or maybe made worse--when he looked at my Halloween T-shirt, black with pumpkins on it, and said, "Cool shirt."  I didn't know yet that his birthday was on Halloween. 

 

I sat on one end of the table next to Catherine, and started rolling up my character.  I made up the name "Thundina" for my thief/mage elf, a kind of variation on "Phoena" and probably "Thumbelina."  It just came to me.I worked on that during most of the game.  I had to ask Catherine's help with a lot of it: It had been months since I rolled up Phoena and Fury, and I did not use standard character sheets for them, just sheets Phil made on Microsoft Word.  I recognized few of the terms and abbreviations. 

 

There were two other gamers, J.J. (character name: Konig) and Casey (character name: Thorin).  Thorin had a dog named Lockjaw and a talking sword named Ethelmark.  Casey had glasses and long, dark hair pulled back into a ponytail.  J.J., who was our age but looked much older, was stunningly handsome.  He had longish, brown or blond hair and no glasses.  Both generally dressed like Cugan: T-shirt, jeans.   

 

At one point, we took a break.  I had my coat with me, but it was so unseasonably warm outside that I didn't need it.  Cugan, JJ, maybe Casey, Catherine and I went over to the door for a few minutes, then went outside.  Catherine said to me when the others were out of range, 

 

"I told you not to look at J.J.!" 

 

We all chatted and walked down the nearby streets, which had been closed off except for local traffic because of major construction.  Imagine the freedom of walking down the middle of a city street without worrying about cars.  This was my first exposure to M--, and I loved it.  

 

Back inside again, while Cugan and I were alone at the table, he came up to me and asked me to go to the March Haire Affaire, an SCA event, with him.  It was during Spring Break, however, so I didn't accept right away; I thought I would be at home.  But when he asked me, my heart did that proverbial leap.  Of course Catherine was glad to hear about it.  I later checked with my parents; they said if he took me home to Indiana afterwards, it would be okay for me to go.  No, I didn't need my parents' okay for a date; it was just a matter of getting home for Spring Break without inconveniencing them. 

 

After the game, Catherine drove me to her house, with Cugan following in his car.  Catherine pointed to his red, stickshift, '92 or '93 Saturn with a license plate saying CUGAN S (Cugan's).  She said, "Doesn't he have a cool car?"  (It's perfectly safe to put his license plate number here, because he no longer has it.) 

 

We got to her house a while later.  She'd just bought tapes of Star Wars, The Empire Strikes Back and Return of the Jedi, and we watched them all.  I hadn't seen them since I was a kid, so these movies were never associated in my mind with any other guy but Cugan. 

 

These movies first entranced me in my prepubescence, when my younger brother bought them on laserdisc and I saw them for the first time.  He probably got Star Wars when I was in sixth grade.  I'd play them over and over--so much that my dad had to tell me to play Star Wars only once a week.  

 

Back to March 11, 1995.  Glen was with us for a little while, but soon left us all alone.  Cugan and I sat on the couch, but he sat at the left end and I sat at the right end.  As the night went on, I began to feel more comfortable with him, and we began to joke about the movie.  Catherine saw us moving closer together.  Then, all at once, Cugan made a cute whining noise, put his arm around me, and pulled me close.  I didn't mind.   

 

I felt more and more comfortable with and attracted to Cugan as the evening wore on.  At one point, Catherine left the room for a while.  She later said that she noticed we were cuddling, and being there without Glen, she felt like a third wheel.  We asked her if she'd fallen asleep, but she was just giving us some privacy.  She later said to me, 

 

"When you got here you two sat on the couch like this--" she held her two index fingers far apart-- "and in a little while you were like this--" she jammed the two fingers together. 

 

Cugan drove me home.  At first we weren't very talkative.  But finally, probably after we decided to not stop at Roanoke and soon got lost in the roads around it, we found the right topics of conversation, and became as talkative as we were in letters and on the phone.  We agreed that modern dance was boring; I said I wanted to dance like in medieval times, with ring dances and fun.  "Dead Man's Party" by Oingo Boingo came on the radio, a song which Q101 had played all summer.  I loved it because it reminded me of a story I read that summer in a Gothic collection: A young boy, who didn't know he was a ghoul, crashed a party and didn't understand why everybody ran away.  Cugan knew the story, which was "The Outsider" by H.P. Lovecraft.  "Don't run away, it's only me," a line in the song, matched his sentiments exactly.  Cugan also knew other Lovecraft stories, which I'd never even heard of. 

 

At one point, Cugan said, "You've done something few people can do: You got me lost." 

 

I laughed, banged my fist against the car door, and said, "Yes!  Yes!  Yes!" 

 

That made him laugh.  He soon found his way again, and we got to Roanoke.  I offered to pay for the gas used, but he said that was okay.  As we sat in the car in the parking lot just before I went inside the apartment building, we agreed to go out again.  I believe we skipped kissing because it was only the first date. 

 

On Sunday, March 12, I had at least 100--probably more like 200, 300, 400 or 500--pages of Middlemarch to read by the next day.  I'd been reading it all week, in addition to homework from other classes, work, classes and the occasional outing, but still had quite a ways to go.  Dr. Nelson had assigned far too many pages for me to read, since with NVLD my reading speed was slow.  I didn't know if I could possibly get it done even if I read all day and night, but I was going to read what I could.  I stayed in the apartment all day and evening.  If I went online at all, it probably wasn't for long.  I turned down all other activities because I didn't want to disappoint my thesis mentor. 

 

Cugan called to ask if I wanted to go out that day, but I turned him down because of the reading.  He cheered me on and said I could get it done, but I didn't.  I believe I still had several hundred pages to read.  I hated telling Dr. Nelson; fortunately, he didn't yell at me, though he did seem disappointed. 

 

The night of Wednesday, March 15, I had my second date with Cugan: He came over for an 8:00 showing of the movie Maverick on LakeTV, which was channel 19.  After this date, I decided I couldn't see Stimpy anymore.  It had been fun dating around--my mother even told me I should keep doing it--but I was falling too hard for Cugan.  I had a lot more in common with Cugan, and it wouldn't be fair to Stimpy to keep seeing them both.  That meant I wouldn't see Brad, either, whom I'd been writing to as friends since we met at the Superbowl party.  I was ready to get serious with someone again.  Though on the one hand I was happy about my decision, on the other hand it made me sad.  I resolved to be nice to the guys when I told them, letting them know they were great people but I had decided on someone else.  I determined to be nothing like the guys who had dumped me. 

 

After talking about it with Stimpy, who seemed understanding, I spoke with one of the teenagers on TCB in Teleconference or Farwest Trivia.  I don't remember how it came up in conversation, but I told him I'd broken up with Stimpy.   

 

"You dumped Stimpy?  Cool!" he typed. 

 

"How is that cool??!!!"  I typed back. 

 

I have wondered ever since if this kid told Stimpy, "You know, Nyssa defended you." 

 

For the first few days or week after the breakup, though Stimpy had said he didn't hate me, he obviously didn't want to talk to me.  I paged him a few times to show him I didn't want to ignore him, saying hi and, at least once, asking how he was, but got no more than short, clipped answers in return: "hi," "I'm doing okay."  Normally these answers would have been fine, but they took a while to arrive and he sent no others, a marked contrast to how he usually talked to me online.  So I respected his wishes and didn't push him or ask any more questions.  But not only did he not talk to me, he ignored Sharon, Pearl and even Krafter, even though they had nothing to do with it.  Pearl got mad, saying, "But he knew it wasn't serious!  You made that very clear to him.  So why is he acting this way?"  The song "Popular" by Nada Surf didn't come out until maybe a few weeks later, so we hadn't yet heard these lines: 

 

"Be prepared for the boy to feel hurt and rejected 

Even if you've gone together for only a short time, 

And haven't been too serious, 

There's still a feeling of rejection 

When someone says she prefers the company of others 

To your exclusive company" 

http://www.purelyrics.com/index.php?lyrics=dnclixro 

 

I don't know why websites say this song came out in the summer of 1996.  I distinctly remember not only watching the video on Pearl's TV in the apartment in spring of 1995, but also hearing it shortly after the breakup with Stimpy.  (Who knows--maybe the single came out on MTV long before the album was released.)  It told how to go about breaking up with a guy so that you'll still be friends with him later.  I could have used this advice sooner, but it reassured me that I hadn't done anything wrong, and that apparently I broke up with Stimpy well enough that he would still want to be friends with me.  That was what I wanted; I didn't want to hurt him and be mean to him like other guys had been to me.  Of course, the problem with dating even casually is that somebody often gets hurt. 

 

I hoped he wouldn't have a hard time letting go, but if he did, I intended to treat him the way I thought Peter and Phil should have treated me: not like dirt, but with respect and understanding that this was difficult for Stimpy.  I like to think that I would have acted in the following ways: If he wanted to talk, I would, and if he wrote me a letter, I would answer it nicely.  I would explain if I had to that I didn't hate him, still liked him, and wished I could date him, but knew it would never work.  I hadn't told him before that I couldn't get serious with an agnostic, or that we had trouble talking, since I didn't want him to feel it was his fault.  But if I had to tell him these things now, I would.  I'd say I cared a great deal about his feelings, and that breaking up with him now would be far less painful than stringing him along for weeks or months, risking that one of us might fall in love, and then breaking up with him then.  I would say I was sorry for hurting him, and that the breakup made me sad, too, but I had a feeling about Cugan and it would be unfair to date any other guys and give them false hope. 

 

I would be kind, though firm.  I never wanted to be in Peter or Phil's place, to be the mean one that Stimpy would detest forever for having treated him like dirt just because he still cared for me.  I never, ever wanted to be like them, just as I never, ever wanted to date them again and give them the chance to treat me that way all over again.  I was relieved, however, that instead I got the silent treatment (though I hated it) and then--well, that's for later.  I don't remember how much, if any, of these things I eventually told Stimpy, but I didn't have to say more. 

 

If Peter and Phil had treated me the way I planned to treat Stimpy, things would have been very different.  Phil would never have gotten an angry letter, and we might have actually been friends again because he would have shown himself to be a halfway decent guy.  (But for that to happen, he would also have to be decent enough not to treat me the way he did that summer.  But then, we probably would have gotten publicly married instead of divorced, because I don't think he would break up with me after making such vows.  We would have had a pleasant summer and no reason to break up.) 

 

Instead of being mad at Peter, I would have soon forgiven him and we would have been friends again.  I wouldn't have spent weekends with my nerves on edge, wondering what Peter would say to my latest letter, only to hear nothing at all from him.  We would have actually talked, and I would probably have discovered that he wanted to try things I disagreed with, that our ideas of religion were changing in ways I could not tolerate, and that we were best just being friends. 

 

I was Stimpy's advocate online.  Maybe a month or two later, some girl in tele apparently wasn't sure what kind of guy he was, so I said, "Stimpy's really very sweet."  Stimpy responded with an action word: I soon saw, "Stimpy is blushing for that you said!"  (The grammar on the action words wasn't perfect.) 

 

I've come to the conclusion that when you break up with someone, and it's your idea, not theirs, you must be very delicate with their feelings.  Be polite, but don't try to force them to talk, or go out of your way to be polite.  If you pass them on the street, say hi, but don't act cheerful, because that will only make it look as if life without them is wonderful (which will only make them feel worse).  If you see them across a crowded room, don't go over to them just to say hi, or if you see them through a window, don't wave at them (like Charles did to Trina).  As someone who has been on both sides of the fence, dumper and dumpee, I believe this is the best way to act. 

 

Krafter drove Sharon, Stimpy and me to the BBS bowling party on Saturday.  I don't remember if Pearl went with us, though she did go.  Somehow, not at all by my design, Sharon ended up sitting in the front seat of the van, so Stimpy had to sit next to me when we got to his house.  We sat like two bumps on a log, not speaking, not looking at each other.  I felt extremely uncomfortable because I knew he was mad at me.  I wished I didn't have to break up with him, because I missed him very much.  I missed typing the global action word ".cuddle stimpy" every time I logged onto TCB. 

 

At the bowling alley, he sprang out of the van and ran off to find Misty.  Krafter joked to us that he was "running away," and that he'd probably say to Krafter (or had said), "Yer next!"  Stimpy found an alley with Misty, and talked and laughed with him all night, ignoring me, Sharon, even Krafter.  I knew what he was doing, because I had done it myself with other guys: trying to show me I didn't bother him. 

 

At least I knew one thing: Stimpy would not join the Zetas!  He wasn't a Roanoke student, after all. 

 

Maybe a week passed.  One day, Sharon and Pearl logged in and found cyberflowers from Stimpy waiting in their e-mailboxes.  He apologized for ignoring them.  I hoped to find the same thing, but Sharon said that wasn't likely.  However, when I logged in, I found one for me!  Stimpy wrote that he had a long talk with his friend Teri about how he'd been acting.  He apologized for ignoring me. 

 

Soon after, I found him online and had a long chat with him.  We patched things up and became friends again.  We didn't start dating again, because I knew that would be a mistake.  It would never work out, and I'd already told Cugan I was now dating only him.   

 

On probably Friday, March 17, St. Patrick's Day, Cugan came to the apartment for a date.  He tossed two cute, stuffed baby gargoyles on the chair, and handed me a St. Patrick's Day card that he originally planned to mail.  I soon found out that one of the gargoyles was for me.  I didn't know what kind of name a gargoyle would have, but he suggested Dido, and named his own Liko.  We decided mine was a boy and his was a girl. 

                                                            

Cugan said dust bunnies were Dido's food.  Well, then, he had plenty of food over the apartment and, especially, under the beds. 

 

My roommates called Cugan into the office.  I listened from outside as Pearl said with a laugh, "We want to know, what are your intentions toward our roommate?"  Their little "interrogation" didn't last long, and may have embarrassed Cugan a bit, but it also made us laugh. 

 

This was probably when we saw Forrest Gump, which we liked.  Of course, we had no idea that one day, a new variety show called Mad TV would mix together Forrest Gump and Pulp Fiction in a sketch, and have Forrest say, "We're going to get medieval on your butt-ocks."  (I don't know how long this Mad TV lasted.  We only saw the first episode, because the Forrest Gump sketch was the only good one.) 

 

I came home that night to find my "stash"--my own cupboards, which held snacks and chocolate--taped shut.  My roommates had done this as a joke.  I just pulled off the tape and opened up the cupboards.  My roommates were so strange that night, making weird noises on the couch and laughing to high heaven, that I could only attribute it to the full moon. 

 

I don't remember what Tara thought of Dido, but Pearl thought he was cute.  I kept him on the back of the couch during the day and evening.  That's how stricken I was with Cugan and his gift.  Sharon, however, whenever she saw it, would say, "Eww!  It's ugly!"  She or Pearl said, "If it flies, it's outta here!"  So, naturally, one night he fell off the back of the couch onto the cushions, and Pearl or Sharon cried, "He flew, so he's outta here!"  He wasn't, of course. 

 

Unfortunately, after all the years of hanging around our various dwellings and sitting on the beds with other stuffed animals, Dido and Liko got lost in our latest move in 2003.  One bag or box held them and others of our most precious stuffed animals; one bag held rags.  Naturally, the rag bag made it just fine.  We searched everywhere and even called people who helped in the move, but the bag was nowhere.  Also lost were Cugan's Animaniac dolls and my Halloween witch cat, which looked just like a Halloween decoration I named "Pirate Samantha" back when I was around nine years old.  I used to write and act out all sorts of stories about this Pirate Samantha. 

 

On Saturday at 1pm, Krafter came to the apartment and watched the movie Stargate with me, Sharon and maybe Pearl.  We loved it.  Maybe a day or two later, Cugan came over and I watched it with him, too.   

 

The first time I went to Cugan's tiny apartment in M--, its contents impressed me.  The walls of the two-story apartment building were white with brown half-timbers.  The living room, with a big picture window, was small and crammed with stuff, which lay all over the floor and on plastic shelving units, though I think he had made some attempt at cleaning up before I came over.  A chess set was laid out on the coffee table, which was off to one side.  Two big, square pillows, which also went on the big, round, papasan wicker chair, formed the "couch" because, as Cugan said, a couch was often a luxury.  On top of one of the shelving units were stuffed versions of all three of the Animaniac siblings.  That's when I discovered his love for Animaniacs.  I think other stuffed animals were here and there.  A Celtic harp stood in one corner, books on the Celts (including the one by Nora Chadwick which we had read in Celtic class) were in a bookcase, a Bible or two sat near the "couch," and Luther's Small Catechism lay on the floor by the "couch."  Had I found the kind of man I didn't dare dream of finding--one with interests similar to mine, one who actually liked the Celts and the Bible? 

 

Catherine and I wrote dream visions for Chaucer class; mine was "Romance of the Rosebud," which included a character named Lord Cugan.  Catherine's dream vision included both Sir Stimp-a-lot and Lord Cugan.  Sir Stimp-a-lot was a bungler vying with Lord Cugan for the attentions of a fair maiden, and Cugan won.  She also included a wall, such as in Romance of the Rose, which Chaucer translated; she used real teachers, putting virtuous ones inside the wall and "bad" ones outside or on the wall.  I forget where she put Counselor Dude, but he was included.  Our teacher Christina was probably included, and put inside.  Christina apparently read my story first, because she put a comment on Catherine's paper saying something like this: "I've seen this name 'Lord Cugan' before; it seems to be a popular name."  She didn't seem to know it wasn't the name of a figure in literature, but of someone Catherine and I knew.  

 

It was probably on Monday, March 20, that Cugan and I saw Pulp Fiction.  I was surprised to find it still playing, since it had come out months before and I'd read a bad review of it back then.  Cugan and I and another young couple were the only ones in the theater, so Cugan and I lounged in the seats with our feet on the backs of the seats in front of us.  You would think the movie was not at all popular.  I sat there laughing and enjoying the whole movie (though parts were gross and I didn't like what happened to John Travolta's character).  Despite my laughter, the language was explicit and there were mentions of sex, so Cugan kept saying to me, "I'm sorry!  I'm sorry!  I didn't know it would be this way."  And I kept saying to him, "Don't worry about it!" 

 

We both loved it, and thought it, not Forrest Gump, should have won the Oscar the two contended for that year.  Cugan figured Forrest Gump won because it was about values and such and not a bunch of people cussing and shooting, but Pulp Fiction was more fun.   

 

On Friday, March 24, Cugan drove me far away to a place about an hour away from Stevens Point, which was where March Haire Affaire was being held.  This may have been Wisconsin Rapids or Marshfield.  We stayed, or "crashed," at a house with a friendly couple, at least ten or twenty years older than us, with a dog or two, three or four cats that loved me, and pet hair all over the house, even on the towels.  I decided to never have that many pets, because of all the hair.   

 

On the morning of the 25th, I parted my hair in the middle because that seemed more medieval.  I hadn't done this for several years, and liked doing it again so well that I began to part it in the middle for months afterward.  Middle parts, which seemed to vanish in the 80s in the backlash against all things 70s and hippie, came back into fashion in the late 80s or early 90s.  Nowadays, nobody cares where you part your hair.  But when I had "hippie hair" in high school, one day I looked around and wondered why nobody else had a middle part.  I felt terribly out of fashion, so I tried parting it differently. 

 

I didn't have my own garb, so Cugan offered to let me borrow some of his.  I wore a white shirt and huge, green pants.  Cugan tied the legs up with leather thongs, but I felt like I was drowning in the clothes, which were much too big for me and very hot.  I may have worn my own black dress shoes.  I laughed at how absurd this costume was.  Cugan gave me his cape to wear outside, since it was only March and still cold, and we drove about an hour to the event, which was held in a school. 

 

We went into one large room, which was full of merchants' goods: veils, headdresses, clothing, jewelry, everything a person might need at a non-camping event.  This spoiled me, because for a while I thought every event was like this, and that if I couldn't afford something this time, I could get it the next.  I found a green, embroidered dress which went over an off-white undertunic.   Cugan said the color looked wonderful on me, and the woman selling the clothes said she could alter them if necessary.  But the size was medium, and when I went into a bathroom and tried them on, they fit me perfectly.  Some of the undertunic showed, so I had to ask one of the women there if it was supposed to.  She said it was, which put me at ease.  This dress was much cooler and more comfortable.  I went back into the merchant room and showed Cugan, who was amazed.  He even told Donato how amazing it was.  I had no idea at the time that finding perfectly-fitting garb at your first event, and for only about $25, was highly unusual.  Most events don't have merchants selling full sets of garb.  We then found a metal link chain that looked like gold, and this became my belt.  (I tried wearing it as a necklace, but somebody told me only knights did that.)  I think Cugan also lent me one of his leather pouches. 

 

Ayesha and Donato were both there, and surprised to see me with Cugan.  I don't think Catherine came.  Cevante also saw me, and hugged me with glee.  I hoped she noticed I was there with Cugan.  As a shy person surrounded by strangers, these familiar faces were welcome.  I think Donato even offered us Coke in cans.  He was selling yarn slipcovers for pop cans, which he made himself and, as I later discovered, he usually sold at events.  They were so you could drink modern pop and still look "period," or like you belonged to the time period the SCA covered: about 600 to 1600 AD (the dates are subject to debate).  (When Cugan and I got married both in real life and then in an informal SCA wedding, Donato gave me a cover with the letter "N" for Nyssa, and Cugan a cover with the letter "C" for Cugan.)  Some of Cugan's friends from outside the shire, such as from Appleton's Windhaven, showed up.  Cugan introduced me to them as his lady, and one of them, probably Clyde, said "Oh!" and kissed my hand. 

 

I must have smiled all day.  I was never bored, and had lots of fun.  At one point, Cugan and I went into the foyer to tables that had been set up, and played pente.  I always thought this was a medieval game, but Wikipedia says it was invented in 1978.  It was sort of like checkers, only any number of people could play.  Each person had a set of glass beads in a particular color, and moved them around and captured other beads on a cloth mat with a grid drawn on it.  Cugan and I played against another couple for a while.  Cugan was red, and I think I was blue or green.  I think we were all beginners.  I ended up winning the most games, and was finally matched up against three guys from the other tables who'd also won most of their games.  One of these was Clyde, who cracked lots of jokes as we played.  One in particular I wish I could remember, because it became a catch phrase; I think it was a line from a song.  I think one of the guys there seemed cocky, and I hoped he wouldn't win. 

 

I came in second place at this game, making me nearly the pente champion.   

 

It was because of this, being a "newbie" who came in, found the perfect garb right off, nearly won at pente, and stole away Cugan's heart, that I told Brad in a letter that I felt like a cheekish, charmed upstart. 

 

(By the way, it was so sad to have to tell Brad I'd chosen another guy.  Why couldn't all these guys have shown up sooner?  I could have had a chance to date each one of them, and maybe I would have had better experiences in college than I had with Peter, Shawn and Phil.  Or maybe I would have had guys to fill up my long "love droughts.") 

 

I also met Master John, Cugan's mentor from when he was a newbie.  This was a remarkable man: tall, handsome, in his thirties, no eyes or hands due to being stupid with dynamite when he was about eleven or twelve (that's why you should be careful with that stuff), yet able to get around and make beautiful weavings through touch.  The skin of his forearms had been clipped so that he could use the bones as two-fingered hands.  He had a large staff, and being asked to lead him by holding onto the edge of his staff was a great honor, leading you to meet all sorts of people who knew and loved him.  He was so well-liked and respected that if he didn't like someone, that was quite an indictment.    

 

We sat at a table in the merchant room for a while, with Master John and a man who was dressed as an Arab.  Once, Cugan turned his head down while talking, and John asked him why.  Cugan was shocked, wondering how the heck John could have known he was looking down.  It didn't shock me, because I long before noticed how the sound of a person's voice changes depending on how he turns his head.  To Cugan, however, John seemed to be able to see without eyes. 

 

Fighting was going on in the gym--a bunch of guys and even a young woman in makeshift armor beating on each other with rattan sticks covered in duct tape--but I wasn't interested in watching this.  

 

That evening, we sat feast in the same room the merchants had been in, which may have been a cafeteria.  Along one side was a cardboard? castle for the kids to play in.  There were several different "removes," or courses, and the meat remove alone included at least two different kinds of already cold chicken.  In his feast gear, Cugan had brought three-pronged forks, which looked strange to me.  I loved eating off wooden plates and bowls and drinking from a wooden or pewter? goblet.  I wasn't too crazy about most of the food, except for the bread and the custard, which Master John loved. 

 

There was also a naming contest for the mascot, a winged-rabbit puppet.  (There were several winged stuffed animals, including cats, at one of the merchant tables, and Cugan bought a few of them.)  Cugan won the contest with "Arfur of the Round Tail."  I think the "Round Tail" idea came from me.  I thought it was terribly corny, but he won, and got to keep the puppet, which he later dressed in its own garb.  He also won or bought a stuffed rabbit, which I think he called Lancelot, and also dressed in its own garb.  Winning Arfur made him very happy.  A guy who liked stuffed animals?  What a find! 

 

Outside at his car, I told Cugan he looked good in garb, which he did.  He was wearing a brown shirt with huge, black "horde" pants, a black tunic-like vest tied with a belt, and black leather boots, which kept him from tripping in the pants.  

 

No one else was at the crash spot when we got back there, so we tried to watch Dragonslayer in the living room.  We didn't watch for very long, though, because Cugan was too tired.  As we watched, however, we still wore our garb.  I didn't want to change because my dress was comfortable, and because it was fun to dress like I'd stepped out of the Middle Ages. 

 

The next day, the 26th, Cugan drove me home to South Bend. 

 

On our way to South Bend, we stopped in Milwaukee in the suburb of Wauwatosa to see Cugan's parents.  This was the first time I had ever seen them, and I was impressed.  His mom was from Wisconsin and had a German background.  His dad was from West Virginia and still had a Virginian accent.  They seemed like nice people, respectful of each other and Cugan, and glad to see me.  Cugan's dad seemed like a nut, constantly joking.  This first impression turned out to be true, to my delight.  That was where Cugan got his sense of humor from.  I told Cugan my impressions, and he said that he felt lucky with the parents he had.  I had finally found a guy who didn't have a dysfunctional home life, and that boded well for our future. 

 

Now that I was at home, I felt the loss of Hazel.  I kept expecting to see her.  Mom showed me where she was buried: beside Jake's garage.  I think a tree or flower was planted over her. 

 

Though I'd felt secure in my relationship with Cugan while he was around, now that I was away from him for a week I began to fear that I'd get back to school and he would say he wanted to break up.  I even wrote this poem: 

 

Why does the thought of him scare me to death? 

Will it last?  Is he half of what he seems? 

Will I do something to push him away? 

God knows why I feel so terrified: 

Failures in the past? 

As if love's a beautiful snake-- 

Within its coral stripes--venom. 

Fear, fear, you beast, 

Go away!  I can't breathe. 

Let me be free. 

 

I found my middle school friend Josh online again (he was "Modem Menace" on PanOptic Net), and told him about Cugan.  Just before I returned home, Josh also called me on the phone.  His voice sounded so different and deep. 

 

I found Stimpy and Krafter on AOL, and sent them messages.  Stimpy wrote back about the wonders of the Internet, connecting friends who are many miles apart. 

 

I also read or skimmed many books I checked out of the library on Friday the 24th, and took notes.  These were biographies on the authors I wanted to include in my thesis on Victorian women authors who tried to break out of what was expected of them by society.  I enjoyed the books, but the account of Louisa May Alcott's life was depressing.  Apparently, Little Women was an expression of what Alcott's family should have been, but wasn't.  The sisters were plain, though the one who inspired Amy was the best-looking of them all.  None of them treated Louisa, Jo's inspiration, very well, and neither did her parents.  Louisa's father was just awful.  He wanted her to become a little woman and not act so "manly," and Jo became what Louisa's father wanted her to be.  Reading Little Women with this knowledge now became bittersweet, because the story was so ironic.  Louisa also wrote sensational stories with murders, chases and melodrama just as Jo did, and these were always her first love, even though books like Little Women were considered much "better."  (In 1995 or 1996, I bought and read one of these books, A Long Fatal Love Chase, and saw a TV-movie version of The Inheritance.)  I've already mentioned the biography's suggestion that Louisa didn't allow Jo to marry Laurie because Laurie was too sensual, and my opinion of it. 

 

Since Cugan had gotten me Dido, I wanted to find him a gift, as well.  Mom and I went shopping in a Walgreens one night.  She pointed out some cute, stuffed bunnies.  Though Cugan loved his two March Haire rabbits, I knew he'd think these were cutesy-cute, not just cute, and passed them by.  I found a key chain with a tiny Etch-A-Sketch attached to it, and decided to give him that.  He was glad I passed up the bunnies and got him the key chain.  A few months later, when he started his new job, he put the key chain in his cubicle and labeled it a back-up CAD tube in case the ones there stopped working (CAD tubes are, I believe, computers for drawing pictures of the things engineers design). 

 

When my parents took me back to college, we met Cugan at Marc's restaurant in S-- for lunch, so they got a good chance to get to know him better.  He impressed them. 

 

One day in Cugan's apartment, we turned on a talk show with makeovers.  We hated that the women's long hair was cut and everyone was dressed in professional suits, which Cugan hated especially.  We've noticed this since, that makeover shows are too annoying to watch because long hair is always cut when it should be left long.  Through our conversation that morning, I also discovered that Cugan liked my long hair.  He said long hair is elegant.  It was good to have two guys in a row (first Stimpy, then Cugan) say how wonderful my long hair was.  If I'd cut it to please Phil, that would have been a huge mistake. 

 

Whenever Cugan came down to S--, he tried to catch 102.1.  He didn't have an alternative station in M--.  I said to Catherine, "Whatever I like, he likes too--and turns up!"  This was quite a change from Phil, who kept ripping on my favorite kinds of music--alternative, modern metal, hard rock, Christian rock--even saying once that he would've broken up with me for liking hard rock and metal, if it weren't for a friend of his who liked it!  (The strange thing is, I started listening to a hard rock/classic station in the first place because I thought he liked it, and ended up liking it myself, only to find that he didn't even like such music.) 

 

In late March and early April, Pearl and I read Hard Times by Charles Dickens for Brit Lit.  We were interested in what happened to the characters, but with its lack of the usual Dickensian melodrama (which we loved), it seemed too hard to get into.  It was also very depressing. 

 

April 1995