2001-05-31 / 6:56 p.m.

~Crooked Jesus~

Every time I walk by Linda's cubicle I see her portrait of the black Jesus, the one hanging in the gilded frame, and it's crooked. I don't know why she doesn't straighten it, and each time I see it I want to do it for her, but I can't. I can't stand her still, a part of me cringes when she looks me in my eyes, when our eyes are locked, even just for a fraction of a second, and all I can think is she is pure evil, no, evil personified. She is what evil would be if evil were a person. Am I wrong? I'll never forget what she did to me, and even if I do respond to her, put WORD files on her desktop for her, help her, offer to get her water, even if we're coworkers and in the sisterhood that that implies, just us women working together, still, she is the evil one who was so ignorantly cruel, and her Jesus can remain crooked - it suits her.

More therapy. D. is worried because her daycare worker said her son is attached to his daddy. She thought this meant that he is therefore not attached to her. Once we took this to the "floor" and all had a say, D. was better. She'll take it as a compliment, know that her husband is a good father and she can know that she is a good mother as well. She's new at all this, and if you ask me, totally obsessive compulsive and controlling. I feel for that kid. She won't even let us see him unless his clothes all match and are stain free. Do I even want children?

Robert called me today, at work, exactly as he said he would! It was so nice - all of a sudden he's on to me again, like a hound picking up the trail of a scent that's too good to pass up. He wants me, and I don't know how I feel. I know there's not the physical chemistry I need, I don't want to take off his clothes and jump him, and I do need that, but we have something, we both know it and admit it freely. He says I'm the only person he can talk to for more than 10 minutes, that we are "kindred spirits", and I don't know if I'd go that far, but yeah, we're in a comfort zone, we connect mentally, he gets my quips, my jibes, my jabs, he gets it all, very little explaining, and he likes hockey, or knows a lot about it anyway. He even asked about the sportscaster, how it turned out, and I told him of my vicious email letter, the fact that he has yet to respond. Sure, I told him to lose my phone number, my email address, my online photo album link (no worries, I made it password-protected - whew!). Still, he was supposed to write back, an apology, a sincere, heartfelt, "Omigod, I am SO sorry, boy did I FUCK up!" apology, but he didn't. This is in keeping with his assholeness. Robert understands, and he sympathizes, and he likes me. He really likes me. He's felt my wrath too, he says, and yeah, I remember the email I wrote to him in which I called him a "dick". Yeah, I thought he was. Now, I'm used to him being there, then not being there.

Last night we chatted online, and he confessed that he could "flip" for me, and that scares him. He says he's scared of me. He really feels something intense here and I would never want to hurt him. I almost can't wait to see him again just so I can see if I feel any of that too. I want to feel it. I need to feel it so we can get on with this, see if we can love, if we can be something. I don't want to hurt though, not him, not in that horrible way.

He has a little girl too, Lilly's age, and I get to meet her. He said last night it's important that I meet her because if we're going to start something I would have to know her. She means everything to him. And he has a son too, by another woman, one he never married. He's older. We talked about going to the zoo, with the little girl, next weekend, and I was so excited, no, I still am, but he's not a planner, and neither am I, and well, that's so far away, a whole week.

I could say, well, he's a Gemini you know, and I have a Gemini ascendant, and my moon sign is Sagittarius, but being an Aries sun sign, well, you can see how I might relate to him. And you could say, Oh, yes, I see that. How interesting, you two might just get along great! You both need your freedom. Oh yes, I could say, it's paramount, definitely. And then you'd say, And you're both so spontaneous, and well, flaky, kind of flighty maybe, and I could say, Oh yes, you've really hit the nail on its proberbial little head, haven't you? And maybe you could offer to do up his chart, compare it to mine, which I already have, we just need to get his birth time. Yes, I'll say, we can do that, his birthday is Sunday, he'll be in full birthday mode, he'll know, and it won't be werid for me to ask all the birthday details.

But you won't. You won't say that. There is no "you".

It's hockey night, Game 3 of the 2001 Stanley Cup, ooooooh, a big night. Robert said he'd call, and we'll see. He's called twice today already, after last night's online chat, and prior to that a week long dry spell, or was it longer? This is approaching overkill, and he'll feel it. He wants to try, he said so, try harder, see where this goes. I'm terrified. Terrified I won't be what he wants, he won't be what I want, someone else will respond to my Personal ad, someone "better", someone more of what I want. What then? Or will Hugh Jackman leave his wife and want to marry me? Oh yes!

I brought my pictures, cut out of People and Entertainment Weekly, of Hugh Jackman, to show I. because I knew she would swoon. I made copies, taped them together, and they look fabulous and high contrast in the black and white copies the copier produced. I taped him on my cubicle wall, the wall only I can see, then invited I. and D. and A. and L. to come look....."Look, it's Hugh, isn't he dreamy?!"........me, in my 1956 bobby soxer mode. Next to my little cutout of the dreamy men of the past from Biography magazine. Clint Eastwood, Sean Connery, Montgomery Clift, Cary Grant, Gregory Peck, Marlon Brando, Richard Gere, Denzel Washington, Steve McQueen, all of them, all those little head shots, all of them in their primes, no one compared to Hugh, seriously, no one. He is the only one who makes my heart skip a little beat and I feel like a teenager, knowing he's this unattainable future mega star, this guy who everyone will want after "Swordfish" is released wide next week. There he is, dreamy and beautiful, a face that would knock anyone over........but Robert is real, and very average looking, not at all beautiful, but there's something there.

Cost of the War in Iraq
(JavaScript Error)

Run, Kitty, Run!

Previous - Next

New - 2012 - 2009 - 2008 - 2007 - 2006 - 2005 - 2004 - 2003 - 2002 - 2001 - Profile - Contact - Notes - Rings - Diaryland - Favourite Entries - ReadMe - Surveys - Random Entry

Recent Entries:

It Was 40 Years Ago Today - 9:44 a.m. , Friday, Oct. 12, 2012

Dead Black Cat - 9:07 a.m. , Wednesday, Jan. 25, 2012

As Seen From Outer Space - 1:07 a.m. , Saturday, Dec. 05, 2009

I Survived to Tell the Tale - 7:29 a.m. , Friday, Sept. 18, 2009

Reading My Life - 12:55 p.m. , Saturday, Sept. 12, 2009

Happy Kitty

My Diary Was Reviewed at Ms Lovejoy's - Get Yours Reviewed Too!

Registered I was a nominee