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Friday, Oct. 18, 2002 / 9:23 p.m. ~A Mid-Evening, For the Hell of It Update~ I'm all cashed up, but I'll get more tomorrow too. I almost forgot I have to pay just to get in the door tomorrow. Strange that when I deposited my paycheck the ATM wouldn't let me keep $200, said it was beyond my limit, but then I was able to take $100, plus $40 later, then another $40 after that. I probably could've kept going, but I didn't want to risk losing my card or anything. ATMs can be so tricky. I don't even know how much I'll need, or what will happen, if my car will break down and I won't even make it, or if I'll see what she drew and hate it and turn around and leave. One never knows, but I have some cash, and that's good. Tampa Bay, aka The Bolts, just scored again, let me go check the score..... Oh, fuck me, it's 6 to 3, Bolts. I hate to watch, I really do. Every time I hear the horn I just cringe. Not again! I really hoped the Thrashers would be a decent team by now, and maybe it is Curt Frasier who's to blame. Who knows? But Jesus, losing this badly to Tampa is just insane, I don't care how early it is in the season. Looks like we still suck. And to think I was jonesin' to go to a game. I was actually considering going to Magnetic Schedule Night tomorrow, even knowing how sick I've been. Now??? Er, I'm re-thinking. My heart is still all racy, and I haven't taken any drugs since the Nyquil Wednesday night. What's up with that shit? I got really shaky earlier and ordered pizza and salad post haste. Is that right? Post haste? Um, pronto? Quickly. It arrived quickly too, and was right tasty too. Pigged out, watched my "Felicity", got my cash, and had a little episode of sorts with my neighbor..... There is another white person in this building, someone I seldom see, and he shares a wall with my apartment. Right next door he lives. I see another guy coming or going from there, and frankly I've assumed the neighbor dude is gay. He looks gay, seems gay, my gaydar goes off when I see him, but he looks at me, you know, Loooooooks at me, when we run into each other, once every six months or so. Seriously, he is as private as I am, or keeps totally different hours, or both. So, I got my cash, I stopped by the communal mailboxes, the mailbox area, and he was there, did like a triple or quadruple-take, asked how I am, and I said fine, asked how he is, you know, tit for tat, and he says he could be better, after a long sigh. So I say, "Well, actually I've been pretty sick, but I wasn't going to say anything more than 'I'm fine'", and he sounded all concerned, wished me well, I hopped in my car and drove around the corner to our building. Where he was, still getting things out of his car and heading in.... he stopped and turned to me, his arms full of computer parts and books and things, and I said, "Yes?", and he said, "I thought you were going to say something", so I said, "Well, Hello again", and he asked if I'd been up to anything new. Huh? I don't even remember this guy's name. I've spoken to him a total of maybe two times, ever. In a couple or three years. I said, "Well, I've just been sick, been missing work" and he said how nice that I could miss work, but I said not really because it's not as much fun if you're sick, and he wished me well, again, kept turning to look at me as he struggled to open his door, his arms full, and I wondered if I should offer to help, but I thought any minute he's going to invite me in for coffee or something, or ask if he can see my apartment, and really I just want to watch the hockey game and balance my checkbook, count my cash, drink some o.j. and take my vitamins. It was weird, I tell you, weird. I just can't figure him out. What does he want from me, does he want something from me, why the long gazes, isn't he gay, am I wrong about that???? Anyway, the Thrashers suck again, I've eaten, I have cash, I'm excited about tomorrow, I finished three loads of laundry, so nearly every item of clothing I own is clean, the cats are circling, doing their shark imitations, and it's really annoying. Dinner is at 10:00, kids, 10:00, get used to it. Oh, I'm thinking about the Stones concert too, as it's next Saturday you know. Whee! I listened to "High Tides and Green Grass" (Big Hits) today, or rather one side of it (vinyl, forgot to flip it), and I'm getting excited, the Stones, in a stadium show. Wow. Me, at the Stones stadium show. October 26th, what if it's cold?? At least I won't still be sick by then, er, right? I guess that's it for this update. If anything exciting happens, like I clip my toenails or something, I'll be sure to come back and write about it. Surely you'll want to know if and when I finally shave my legs. Hair conditioner? Have you seen my legs? I'd use a whole bottle, and that could be expensive. Thanks, but I think I'll just use my Yardley Lavendar Soap. I get tired just thinking about it. Can you believe I've had men offer to shave my legs??? Crazy men. Men. Hmmmm..... men. Makes me think, I do like them, I'll see some tomorrow, with crazy piercings and too many tattoos. I wonder if I should ring Kukla, see if she still wants some ink???? ***Brief addendum to note again how nasty that one Diarylander was, and I am sorely tempted to write her name, but I won't, in comparison to one Summer-Gale. The latter underwent surgery for a lumpectomy today and all her Diaryland pals were extremely supportive. She never said everyone should stay away and leave her alone, and how she doesn't KNOW any of the people who left kind words in her guestbook..... Diaryland can be a beautiful place sometimes, if you let it. It's such a shame when people spit on those who are just being kind. I really don't get it. Even I wished Summer-Gale the best, me, a total stranger, because I feel for her. She could be me. I may be in her place one day, and I feel for her, again. Besides, it's nice to receive kindness from strangers, I think. If it's sincere. Grrr..... I'm still pissed at that one person. Still. I won't resort to name calling, but I have several choice words to describe her. She needs to go away, leave my diary behind. I feel uncomfortable knowing she comes here to skim. In other news, the Bolts are up fookin' 8 to 4! Here's where I like to say FUQUE MOI! Cost of the War in Iraq
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