Monday, Sept. 08, 2003 / 7:14 p.m.

~It's So Good to Hear From Me!

Gladys says, "Mrao mmmh". Just so you know.

Now, she and Norman are creating a cat yin yang symbol, but one is turned the wrong way. There must be a yang to the yin therein.

I just came really close to applying for a job as a police records technician. It pays 4 cents less than what I'm making now, it's a government job, and it could be fun, as in interesting. There's a PDF file application to fill out, and I haven't filled out a job application in two years, almost exactly two years (when I applied at Earthlink), so I'll have to think about it. Probably print it out, at work, there's no printer here. I hate applying for jobs. Especially the kind of jobs that require applications to be filled out, and applications that ask where I went to high school. Don't they know how irrelevant that is?

They're expecting someone younger, aren't they?

There's a coolness to the air. It's not hot out anymore, it's mild, it's 81, but it's clean air, it's not so thick, and it actually felt too cold in here when I got home, like the a/c needed to be turned off. Of course now that I've eaten, that's all changed.

Alas. I do laundry, I pause to look at cats upon the floor. Finally, the finale of "For Love Or Money Deux", finally. Finally. Could it have BEEN any more dragged out? Or dragged out any more?

Last night I realized I needed to program the '1' before the long distance phone numbers in my new telephone's memory. Thusly, I did not actually call Nelson Saturday night, or Sunday morning, 1:33 a.m. No, he has no idea I even tried. But, I did connect with Hermione after realizing the error of my ways, last eve. And she was so happy to hear from me. What a joy to phone someone and have that someone say, "What a nice surprise! I'm so glad you called! It's so nice to talk to you! It's so nice to talk to another intelligent person!" Wow.

She's starved Out West, in the land of Mormons. She's overwhelmed by Mormons. She's even reading the new Krakauer book on the Mormons, whilst working with the Mormons and living next to the Mormons. She says she is lonely out there, even with husband and four year old daughter. I say I am lonely here, she was my last friend here.

And today this made me think of that group of friends, of which she was/is the last, people I met whilst working at the bookstore. I met some really quality folks there. It was so rich, the experience, especially now, in hindsight, in retrospect. So many homosexuals, so many collegiate types, so many handsome young men, virgins to defile. I enjoyed it, the lusting, the loving, the camaraderie, the carousing, the friendships formed and maintained to this day! Amy, Hermione, Brent, are those the only three left?

Leigh lasted a long time, but our rift could not be unrifted. I was willing, but she was not, in her Taurean stubbornness, yet I think of her still. And Reg, the tormentor, I wanted us to be fuck buddies, at the very least when it was over, but he is gone as well. Gone to marriage. Those were the days. All of them, all nearly 4 years, or 3 years and 10 months, exiting rather ceremoniously, on principle, my favorite method of exit. And I survived nicely upon that exit, inheritance to cushion my non-fall.

Ah yes, and I met her there, Hermione, and this time of year we'd be entertaining thoughts of IHL hockey, and parties, and Halloween. And parties at her house would involve waiting for people to show up, and not wanting to leave too early, and occasionally appealing to one friend or the other, and always to Terrence, who later became my lover until he dumped me for his ex girlfriend, who was not really his ex, and they could get married.

I had resisted his advances so many times, then gave in, finally, to find he would be the best lover I'd ever had, to find that he knew my body like even I did not. To be sucked in, to find him a cad and a cheat, a scoundrel, rapscallion, and the rest.

Ah yes, good times.

So, it was nice to talk to Hermione, and to hear her tell of the joy of talking to me, even better. And the new phone held out, I think it will hold out still, the charge is lasting. Nearly two hours of talk, post-Bush address, and through Mormons, and Southern Christians, and abortion rights, and antiwar, and Homeland Security, and tax dollars, and bullshit and bullshit, and the four year old cut her own hair, using her shadow as a guide? How utterly inventive.

But they're there and I reside here, and today I floated, and when Jane engaged me I was like the little blob in the drug commercial, sort of unable to socialize correctly, and I wondered how it ever was I lived with Dave, and worked at the bookstore, and made so many friends, and fell in love, and out again, and lusted and sexed, and lived. It was 10 years ago, the most of it. Seems like a lifetime.

Imagine me as a police records technician.

My clitoral stimulator needs a new battery, as does my digital camera. I took the latter to work, threatened over and over to take Jane's picture, as she was HOT today, and post it to hotornot.com. She refuses, and both she and Q turned away each time I lifed it to my eye, said camera, only to realize my batteries were dead and the shutter would not depress after all. But we rated people, hot or not, the three of us, on our second break, one man in mid-jump, basketball in his hands, shirtless, wearing shorts, and beautiful arm all flexed and lean and long, and I used the cursor's hand to point it out, "But look at THIS, this arm, this is a 10!", and I covered his face with my fingers, said, "The face doesn't matter, look at this", as I pointed out sinew and tendon and muscle all flexed, and wanted so desperately in that moment to actually touch his arm, with my hand, not the faux hand of a computer cursor...

Three years. Have I mentioned that lately? Three. Fucking. Years. Can you imagine? It's not just the job that's killing me, it's not just the accumulation of my life, and all that's procastinatingly put off for a later time, it's not - having - sex - for - three - years. Can you imagine? No, you cannot.

I think there must be something else I should be doing, other than rambling here I mean.

Cost of the War in Iraq
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