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2001-10-10 / 8:16 p.m. ~Dreams and Work~ (I wrote this entry early this morning, once I got to work. Sometimes I wake up and want to write, first thing. In fact, maybe I could be a writer after all, maybe I could stay home and get up in the morning, sit at my PC, crank out some shit (what shit?), I don't know. Anyway, since then, this morning, I had a decent day - Lulu was positively loopy!, and it rubbed off on me. We totally feed off each other, and it's impossible for me to stay mad at her no matter how much she pisses me off! Really, I wish I could meet a man like that, one who is also really attractive and loves me. Yeah....but anyway...I cooked when I came home from work: sauteed fresh asparagus with garlic and fresh thyme, in olive oil of course. And...a frittata with bacon, mushrooms, green onions and a bit of the cooked asparagus. Orgasmic, really. In just a bit is "Amazing Race" and the season premiere of "Felicity", at the same time! Why, Lord, why? See, if there were a "Lord", that is what I would ask him. I'll have to tape one, but which one?) Last night I tried to stay awake for "Politically Incorrect", but I must have fallen asleep minutes before it began. I wanted to see and hear Bill Maher for myself, as he is apparently the only person in this country not afraid to get on national television and question George Bush and "America's New War". I pulled an interesting article off the 'net yesterday, it's titled "The Fear of Thinking", written by Rick Salutin. In it he says the prevailing mood is "�a religious response of a primitive or fundamentalist type. People who feel panic, fear or terror often seize on simple beliefs and cling to them. Beliefs are potent, yet they are precarious - precisely because they are often held either without or despite any evidence. Those who hold them don't want to hear questions or doubts, because it will shake that tenuous security." Interesting. Anyway, I fell asleep. I missed it. Instead, I dreamed of anthrax, war, passionate protests, and kissing the object of my desire. I don't know if it was supposed to be Carlos or not, but in the dream the guy had cut his hair, previously long hair, and I'd neglected to comment on that, simply took note. When we kissed there was a copious amount of saliva involved, and when we separated our mouths I was the one to swallow it all, lest I drool on myself. This I remember. Our saliva together was cold, and this reminds me of one of the worst kissing experiences I ever had�but it wasn't quite like that in the dream. No, it was good, not bad. Then, in the dream(s), I was at a concert, in a concert hall, and in front of my row, the first row, we had a railing with a long keyboard, like a typewriter keyboard, but in a single row of keys - we could type in the lyrics as we heard them, or before they were sung, and they'd appear on a screen to the side of the stage. I was typing away before I started making typos. It was "Crazy on You", by Heart, no doubt because I watched that "Behind the Music" the other day. When we left the show (still in the dream here), I couldn't find my car, it had been hard to park beforehand, and people were going through security check points. Anthrax, war, passion, check points. I think my subconscious has a desire to work it all out, and it would be nice to kiss someone, to exchange bodily fluids, to feel "connected", either emotionally or physically, right now. I'm at work as I write this, it's first thing, 9:19 a.m. Keya has been fired, a new temp is already here to take her place. No one told us, Keya simply isn't here and they introduced the new one. She is African-American, no surprise there. They seldom�uh, like never�bring in Caucasians. Poor Keya, she hasn't a clue. I've been so mad at her for taking up precious space on our trip, space that a fellow protestor would've wanted (there was an actual waiting list for people who wanted to go), just because she thought it would be good to go to D.C. for the first time�for $40. She had left me, before the rally, never even participated, just toured D.C. on her own for the day. I've been harboring a little grudge against her. And the other day when she was 20 minutes late from lunch, and D. stood waiting for her to return, not telling us why she was standing there, but we knew, I knew, and Keya came back with her lunch to eat at her desk. One hour twenty minutes and she didn't have time to eat? No eating of lunch allowed at one's cubicle. And no one said anything about the time, how late she was� But I did. I said, "They are going to fire you, you know that, you were twenty minutes late, don't you care???", and she shrugged her shoulders, said something like "Not really". We're all abuzz about it now, in hushed tones, and I will worry about her, I hope she sees some of her grand dreams come to fruition. Now, I have work to do. Cost of the War in Iraq
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