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11-15-01 - 8:26 p.m.

Leif and I are going to go see Harry Potter tomorrow. We bought our tickets on Sunday. 3:00 showing. He's going to stand in line starting at one. He says he thinks it will be crazy, and I'm sure he's right.

We're gonna do this right. Leif will reserve two good seats, I will purchase overpriced popcorn and sneak in two bottles of water, we'll sit down, turn off our cell phones, and then smack a strip of masking tape over the mouth of every child in the theater. I say again: I hate small children.

I found out tonight two things about Leif: the first being that he speaks ASL (American Sign Language) and the second being that he smokes pot. I already knew he smoked cigarettes, though his teeth are so gorgeous and he always smells so good you'd never guess it. I don't mind that he smokes pot. He said he only does it once or twice a week. I trust him. So far.

The fact that he can speak ASL better than I can majorly impressed me. We were at dinner tonight (a healthful trip to KFC) and a Deaf man came in and tried to order. The man behind the counter couldn't understand what the Deaf man was signing (he was asking for paper) so Leif, who was closeby, tapped the customer on the shoulder and signed, "You deaf?"

The man replied by nodding his hand and his head and asked Leif if he spoke ASL. I sat at our table and watched, jaw slack, as Leif interpreted for the man. The man thanked him and then took his food and left. When Leif joined me, I signed, "You know ASL?" and we had a brief conversation with our hands.

I don't want to like Leif this much and then have him turn out to be like Noah. And I'm terrified that that's exactly what's going to happen.

 

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