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Saturday, Aug. 17, 2002 / 6:16 p.m. ~But it Never Actually Rains - The Caffeine is Kicking In~ I awoke to the sound of thunder. How far off?, I sat and wondered. No, I didn't start humming a song from 1962, and I wasn't sitting, I was lying in bed, because how is it that you sit and wonder after waking, unless you slept sitting up, or you awoke and then you sat up, in which case shouldn't you have said, I awoke to the sound of thunder, sat up, and wondered how far off? Thunder with the sun shining. At work the receptionist has a P.A. fetish. Every time the drizzles begin she makes her singsong announcement, tells us all if we have our windows down we should 'let them up', on account of "It's raaaaaiiiiinnnnnin'!". And I cringe. If you leave your windows down on your car you are responsible. Do you really need a third party to warn you every time it looks like it might rain? Aren't we all adults? Ooooh, I hate thinking about work when I'm at home on a weekend. Why do I do it? Mark wanted me to go shopping with him at some Outlet Mall today, or rather he told me I could join him if I felt so inclined. I did not. Feel so inclined, and neither did I join him. I slept a blissful, then quite exhausted sleep, a sleep of death, a sleep that was hard and long and deep, and this sounds sexual all of a sudden. He called and left a message on my Internet Answering Machine, my Call Wave, and just after the new software was loaded, the new software that now makes it minimizeable. And I'd just minimized it, the little window, and it popped up, and I heard the lovely .wav file I have attached as the notification of new calls... "Oooooh, keep that up you're gonna make me cum!", and every time I hear it I smile inside. La, la, la, he went shopping and he found just what he wanted and what is he, a fucking girl?! Shopping for shoes on a Saturday?! At a fucking Outlet Mall?! I think the roles are reversed here. What genders have we been assigned and are we living up to those assignments? I am supposed to want to shop for shoes, he is supposed to be home drinking beer and watching sports on television. We are bucking the system. We are forging our own gender paths. I shop online anyway. I got an email from a Catalog, and I think it's called Catalog Favorites, a Catalog of Catalog Favorites, and I get it in the mail, the snail mail too, but they alert me of 'specials' and I scoff, I laugh, I delete, but today..... there was this Irish wool cable knit sweater, and it was only $27.99, and that's $28. in real money, and even aware of the shipping and handling costs, on account of it costs extra when people handle it, I still said, Hey, that's kind of cheap for a nice Irish cable knit sweater and all my sweaters are old and have been shrunk by idiot dry cleaners over the years and when I look in my beautiful Lane cedar chest I'm amazed there isn't more there to choose from..... So I ordered it. See, I don't need an Outlet Mall, I have Clearance Specials emails alerting me of bargains, I simply pull out my credit card and shop online. My credit card bill is simply something I pay every month, in its entirety mind you, mind you well, I KNOW debt far too well. No debt here, I am a responsible shopper. And I have a large Irish cable knit sweater coming my way soon. Large? Well, I'm sick of mediums that are really too short. I have these long arms, these long legs, yet I am short. Mediums are not big enough, sometimes.... who cares? This is getting really boring. Point is, um, is there a point? I slept. A lot. I'm not going to tell you what time I got out of bed for good. That's my business. Gladys and Norma know, but they won't tell either. It's our business. Let's just say I haven't slept that long in a while, and it was necessary. I was SO tired. When I first awoke, to that infamous sound of thunder, not sitting and humming, nor singing any songs from any year, I only thought, I am SO tired! And went back to sleep. Now? I'm still tired. But I have a little energy. This is coffee energy here. You're witnessing fast fingers across a keyboard due to caffeine. I'm hitting all the right keys, and it's tempting to keep typing just because it's easy right now. But the thing is, I have nothing to say. Reading that Molu is renting "Amelie" (and she spelled it wrong, but this time I'm not going to say anything, because last time when I corrected her on the spelling of Chaim Potok's name she merely corrected it and never said a word and I get this feeling she reads this diary but really doesn't like what she reads, is more likely driven by some bored compulsion, and although I think she is SO like me in so many ways, she is a much younger me and we would never know each other and so I no longer make any attempts to communicate with her, and well, she never really made any attempts to communicate with me, and clearly I am one of those diaries she added as a fave because I added her first, and now she feels not only the bored compulsion to read from her job, but the obligation....) made me remember that I want to buy it, and even though I don't have a DVD player and I will be the last one on the planet to buy one and I HATE the sound of it, DEEVEEDEE, I do however want to buy the video. Then I think, well, should I buy it online? It's still awfully hot out, do I want it to be shipped in this heat? Shouldn't I just go to a store to buy it? But it's easy to comparison shop online (MySimon.com anyone?), not in the 'real world', and wouldn't it have been shipped to the store in the heat anyway? Do I really care about DEEVEEDEE extras anyway? Well, yeah, but see my TV is not DEEVEEDEE compatible. I know this. It's circa 1977. Or earlier. I'm wearing myself out. I don't care about online people. You people aren't real. Oh god, I was reading back in my diary the other day, as I am wont to do, and I found these entries wherein I was really upset about one automouse person, and you can add your own diaryland.com to that if you really want, but he wrote me this long email, which I quoted in one of the entries, from about a year ago I'd guess, and he told me all about how I should not invest any emotion in online 'relationships', how these people are not real. One Gene told me that too. He's at influence. Again, add your own fucking url extension whatever to that. Men. If you're attracted to what they write online and you tell them, they write to you and say, "I'm not real and I do not date anyone I meet online and you should not be interested in me because I am just ether" or some shit. I must see either: A. What movies are coming on cable B. What the Big Brother houseguests are up to C. What food I can cook up, on account of I'm getting hungry D. All of the above The answer is D. Therefore I will be ending this. Stopping for a quick proofread before clicking on the "done!" button. Cost of the War in Iraq
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