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2001-07-01 / 5:05 p.m. ~A hand to hold~
So, to continue with the incredible drama that is my life...... Cable Guy, aka Terrance, showed up an hour and five minutes late yesterday. This means I get $20 off my next bill, and I called to confirm this. The operator/CS Rep said, yeah, sure, whatever. They were losing a lot of money with this guy yesterday, on account of he spends a lot of time with everybody. Because he cares. The Cable Guy who cares. This is a great concept. Truth is, I love Cable Guys, I love these guys coming into my apartment and acting like there isn't all this crap everywhere, not asking me why I have a collection of bottles, and why I have a collection of refrigerator magnets obscuring my refrigerator, and is that portrait of me? Really, when did you have it done? You're 17 in that painting? No way! No, Cable Guys come in and do what they're here to do, they're competent, and manly, they can fix things, they wear toolbelts for chrissakes! Isn't that too cool? So, I knew I was getting a $20 bonus, I had waited all day, sure, but I was glad he was finally here. He kinda fucked up though, and we were staring at the living room TV wondering why it wasn't getting a picture, when he realized he'd left off one of the connecting cables. But I didn't say "DUH!" or anything, I just laughed. He was cool. Terrance was really cool. The bedroom TV hooked up much more smoothly, and he actually got under my desk to plug it in for me. Later, as I was in bed, masturbating, yes, I was, later, much later, I was thinking how I'd had this stranger in my room, in my bedroom, just hours earlier, how that must be kind of weird, at first anyway, being in all these strangers' bedrooms. And he was so nonchalant, kind of like going to the gynecologist - gynecologists never go, "Whoa! You have fantastic labia!", no, they're PROFESSIONAL. Terrance is professional. And kind. And caring. He spent a long time with me, making sure I know how to use the Universal Remote. It's complicated. Really. And the menu, and the guide, onscreen, are not self-explanatory, not really. I said, "Um, hey, can't they just make an instruction manual to give out to folks, huh?", and he said, "Oh, no, I am your instruction manual." Later, before he left, he gave me the actual instruction manual. Terrance, really! You are a frustrated school teacher, aren't you? And a savior and a martyr, you are out to save the technically-challenged populace. But I'm not technically challenged. Still, I had fun playing around with my remote, and you. Really, when he left, and he'd been calling me by name, using it as an example, "Well, Joleen, you need to go pay your cable bill, that might be a message you'd receive onscreen", etc., and he said it right, and I was impressed, because yeah, okay, Joleen is not my real name (diaryland.com revelation!!!!), and that's rare, and so I finally said, "Hey, what's your name?", and this is how he came to be known as Terrance, the Cable Guy - but when he left, I shook his hand and said, "Thanks Terrance, this has really been a lot of fun!" Not like Jim Carrey at all, and I actually enjoyed that movie, though my boyfriend at the time, whose name is Terrence (no shit!), fell asleep. So, anyway, an hour and fifteen minutes later, T. is gone, I'm left alone, with these VCR sized digital receivers, and these huge remote controls, and I'm watching the end of the "Real World - Hawaii" marathon, thinking, Why, dear God, why have I watched this? It was bad enough the first time around!! Ruthie, Amaya, Kaya, you people are so fucked up!!!!! I have to get away, too much TV, too many channels, and I'm back online, last night, waiting anxiously for my favorite diarists to update, but they're not, and I feel so alone. I watched the Independent Film Channel, in bed (pre-masturbation, and during, I suppose), the movies "High Art" (if that won't prompt one to masturbate, what will??? Ally Sheedy, we hardly knew ye!) and "Polish Wedding". By this time it was 4:30 in the morning and sleep was due. Today I decided to listen to one of the digital music channels, but hearing music, minus picture, coming out of my TV, my old 1978 TV, no fancy speakers, was just too weird. I needed to know where this music was coming from anyway, needed a DJ. So now it's college radio, sounds like folk music from around the world. There was some great lounge musicy stuff earlier, now it's Irish jigs. I'll finish vacuuming, and wash dishes, and overall make this place pretty for Lisa who is coming over after work tomorrow on our way to see "Best in Show" at the FOX. No, I don't clean for Cable Guys, not even Terrance, but you know how women are, we like to look good for each other, especially when it comes to our homes. She's never been here, and no doubt she'll tell all the other gals what she sees. It's got to look good. Oh, thinking of what automouse wrote today, about being better off alone, not relating, not really, not wanting to, or being sure about it, I have to add to that: I agree, mostly, almost always in fact, but in the long run there has to be a reason there are so many of us, not just to procreate, not just to pair up briefly, but to communicate, to comfort, to enjoy one another. I, too, enjoy my aloneness, am extremely independent, may never find a "mate", may not ever want to, really, may sabotage very chance I get because I don't even know if it's what I truly want. Though I have my moments, like last night, when I might have enjoyed a hand feeling the muscles in my thighs, feeling the softness between my legs, enjoyed lips to kiss, a tongue to suck on, sexually needing a second party for the ultimate enjoyment, but in the end, this is a sentiment I can share - it's an Edie Brickell and New Bohemians song, "Me By the Sea" (and why did marrying Paul Simon have to mean an end to her professional music career, goddammit??!!!!): *Reprinted with permission of the author, or at least I'd like to think so - the lower case is hers..... "me by the sea" "i'm glad no one's here just me by the sea A "prisoner of freedom", can't break the habit on her own. I totally get this. And Paul Simon, of all people, came along, and now they're married with kids, and he says they sing around the house all the time. Sometimes, when one is experiencing the best moments in life, it might be nice to have that hand to hold, you know? Cost of the War in Iraq
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