Tuesday, Sept. 03, 2002 / 7:44 p.m.

~Can't You Just Give Me a Billion, Trillion Dollars?~

Late last night I checked my "Buddy List" one last time and it said that no one had updated for like 11933 days. Everyone the same. It was fookin' freaky. It looks about right at this point though. Too many have updated, too much to read, so I'll take time out to write my own little diary entry.

This morning, just before waking for good, after the first two 'snoozes', you know, set the alarm for one time, it goes off, re-set it, it goes off, one more time.... totally foolish, it only makes a person tired-er.... but anyway, just before waking for good, or for worse, but finally, you know (god, I'm having trouble spitting it out, aren't I?), I had this dream wherein I was telling someone, I think my brother, that I REALLY didn't want to go to work. Sort of all whiny, "Can't you fix it so I don't have to go to work? Can't you just give me a billion trillion dollars?"

Yeah. A billion trillion. I don't know why I thought I needed that much to quit my job, but I guess I thought I'd ask for it. Shoot the starts, or the limit, or whatever it's called.

But I woke up instead and begrudgingly got ready for work. Went to work. Read at work. Went to Publix. Came home. Here I be.

Work was SOOOOOOO quiet. Unhh, it was a joy! Yeah, I said, "Unhh".

Oh, Listerine came back from lunch and told me she went to some nearby Mexican restaurant and ate shrimp quesadillas. And she went on, in her post-orgasmic retelling. She looks like she's recounting a really good fuck every time. It's so funny! I just laugh, at her, not with her, and she's okay with that, I guess.

The rest of the day she was her old freaky as hell self. Humming nonsensically, talking to herself when she wasn't humming. It was beeezzzarrrrrr. No shit.

Right. So Lulu was quieter than she has ever, ever been. At the end of the day (not wanting to jinx it too early in the day) I told her. "I don't think you've been this quiet as long as you've been working here."

And to myself I was saying, "And it was SO nice not to have to listen to your incessant babble the entire day, I cannot begin to tell you!"

I read the 'penis book'. I'm past the Freud chapter now and on to the Feminist chapter. Do I need to mention that I read ALL weekend long, but it was diaries and live feed recaps galore, it was Web reading, all day, all the time, you know it. Nice change to read on paper.

But get this, I was reading in between phone calls, yes? Read, read, read, boy it sure is quiet, read, read, read, I love this book, wow, I didn't know that, read, read, read, PHONE. And this one time I had just read this sentence: "This suggests that every man now alive is descended from countless generations of well-hung, fast-spurting men." (Did you know that "...humans, with an average time of four minutes, according to physiologist Jared Diamond, are actually among the slowest to climax among male primates? Gorillas normally ejaculate in one minute. Chimpanzees have been timed at seven seconds.")

So, I have to adjust to say my schpiel on the phone, you know, and it's not hard, but I'm always thinking, hey, whoa, man, wow, if you knew what I was just reading.

Of course the topic was biology, and specifically primate biology, and the advantage of quickness in relation to climax. One male might be yanked off the female in question, to make way for the next, and this was all in the natural process of spreading the seed. Procreation. Fun stuff.

Turns me off completely, by the way. I shut down totally as I read all this stuff. Which reminds me of what Freud was saying about civilization being separate from the natural sexual impulses. Or something like that. I would have to look it up again to quote it directly, but I get the gist. I could be selfish and say that's all that matters, that I read it and I got it, but really I should impart all my newfound wisdom, my booksmarts, to you, dear reader, but ahhhh, read it yourself. (tee hee)

No, no, if I didn't have a pretty bad headache, and find myself hitting all the wrong keys, having to backspace continuously, I'd look it up for you.

Aw, wait a second, here's one, it's not the exact quote I want (the one I want is about the intellectual mind being separate from the sexual body - I'll find it later, maybe), but it's to the point he tried to make: "It is impossible to adjust the claims of the sexual instinct to the demands of civilization". On this I agree. And with the feminists, and with the ones who say/said that if we were still out in the wild living in caves we'd be fucking each other right and left with very little regard for rules and regulations to govern our behavior.

I don't know. We've come a long way, but we're still animals. And the major downfall of us, as a species, I think, is that we forget. Or we choose not to remember.

In other news..... I looked at the calendar last night, after noticing a bit of bloat and tender breasts (fun, huh?), that indeed I am in my PMS week. So watch out! Hah! No, really, it just explains a thing or two (like the fact that I cannot STAND the way my glasses feel on my face! - all day at work I was throwing them off). And isn't it too funny that only a week ago I was dying to go out and get myself laid?! One week. I was going to do it. I was prepared. If nothing else than to just kiss a beautiful man, somewhere.

Hell, that's way gone. Way. And I'm glad. That's the biological urge me. That's the primal urge to procreate. I was fertile, I was desperate, I controlled my urge, that's the intellectual me, and I overcame. I am not fertilized, and this is as it should be. Yay! Or yea, as is more appropriate. Yea! Not yeah. But Yea, as pronounced Yay. I am babbling.

You should have seen me in Publix after work. Lost. Wanting this and that, but rationalizing it all away. Oh, no, can't get that stuff here, must get it at the Farmer's Market. But I'm HERE, but I must get it where it's better quality. But is it better THERE, not here? I want stuff, but I don't want to search, to hunt, to find the best, the most perfect, I want to grab and go, like the good American consumer I am.

So I got the basics, the milk, the o.j., the bread, the coffee beans, and the junky frozen stuff.

It's hard to be a perfectionist. Sometimes it means nothing gets done. I'll try again soon. Maybe tomorrow? I can shop. Say it with me, "I used to". Yes, yes, we all know, broken record it is.

Hey, I have stuff to do, I'm going to go do it. Don't ask. Just stuff.

Cost of the War in Iraq
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