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Friday, Jun. 21, 2002 / 11:46 a.m. ~I Don�t Stink, But I�m Awfully Casual~ I forgot to put on deodorant. I�m sure I�ll be okay, but that�s just one of those things, you know? You get where you�re going and you stop and think, Oh, shit, I forgot to put on deodorant! I�m going to stink! But you won�t. I won�t. It�s not that big a deal. Except to the deodorant manufacturers, who have us all believing we�ll turn into French people if we forget a day. The reason for me forgetting something so basic? Well, you see, it�s like this, I�ve been using this Secret �Ambition� stick stuff, and it�s my first time since probably high school that I�ve used anything scented, because I don�t like to use anything with a scent, but it smells good, I thought originally, but I realized it stays on my skin. I get in the shower and try to wash it off, between �applications�, and it stays. Isn�t that gross? I have a theory that the stuff (anti-perspirant) causes cancer anyway. Breast cancer? Lymph nodes? Come on, what the hell is IN that stuff? What�s that main ingredient? Something toxic, right? We�re supposed to sweat, that�s why we have sweat glands covering something like 90% of our bodies. We�re not supposed to stop the sweating. And the smell? Bathe! So, I was thinking about how the Secret crap never really washes off, how it�s always this sticky film under my arms, and how I�d never want to lick my pits during sex, I mean if I were someone else, because, you know, armpits are sexy, at least I think so, and in all this thinking, I totally forgot to put it on this morning. I was postponing making the decision. But I�m using lavendar soap lately (yeah, I know, MS Word says it�s �lavender�), so I smell damn good anyway. But I�m just saying. 10:02 a.m., cubicle time. Veronica approached me, asked if I want to collect money for Lulu�s Birthday celebration next week. �No�, says I. In no uncertain terms. No hedging. I have really mixed feelings about her. Not Veronica, well, yeah, her too, everyone here, but especially Lulu, so No, sorry, but No. I am not even sure how much, if anything, I�ll contribute. Okay, I had a weird dream this morning. And I simply have to write about my new lovely night shirt (mine's "Bright Orchid") I purchased from Land�s End Catalog online. It�s the most comfortable thing I think I�ve ever slept in, or worn, at all. And I do prefer to wear something to bed, a nightgown, t-shirt, whatever. Why? It keeps the sheets cleaner longer. Plus, if I have to get up to do something, like run (I don�t know!), I want something on. No underwear, that�s crazy (!), but you know, something. I love it, it�s so comfy, I am going to buy another one, I think, in yellow maybe!! Oh, right, so in the dream I�m in bed with a man. I have a feeling he was my husband, but I don�t know why I am thinking this. I also think he was blond. Those details are not clear. What is clear is that I loved him. I was snuggling up against him, spooning, burrowing, and I told him, not asked, �Make love with me�, and though he was tired he was a good sport. Men are like that. So� I started kissing him, first on the lips, then on his ears. And I was licking and sucking on his earlobes, sort of like Norma does to Gladys when she has her pinned on the floor, or the bed, licking forcefully. I wasn�t forceful in the dream, no, I was slow and deliberate, but he stopped me at some point and told me, not asked, �Put your leg under my arm and lick my foot�, or something very similar. The phone rang, possibly while he was saying that, and he answered and this made it more exciting, to know he was talking on the phone whilst I�d be complying with his order. (Brief aside, I�ll never forget the time my ex-boyfriend was talking on the phone to his mom and I backed into his lap for a quickie, while he kept talking, or listening�) So, in the dream, he was on the phone, this blond husband of mine, and I leaned back towards his feet and started licking on the one, and he had sock marks, but it didn�t smell, but then I didn�t exactly inhale really deeply, I just wanted to please him. Funny, huh? I guess the alarm went off around then, and I think I had a hard time going back to sleep for the next half hour. I always set it early, then re-set it so I have more time. I love knowing I have more time. It�s a game I play every morning. But dammit if I wasn�t dying to go back and finish that dream and it was not possible. Today I�m tired. The PMS is now MS and I have all kinds of symptoms, most especially the need to go lie down. Not a lot of pain, not any pain really, not yet, just very very tired. Okay, not all kinds of symptoms, but enough to notice. Mark called at work, early, and everyone was listening to me, so we had to cut it short. Fuck the prying ears here. Mark makes me laugh, being the Comedy Genius he is, so everyone heard me and thought I was laughing at Kukla�s pictures, because, well, I was looking at them while I was on the phone. Oops. I may have posted too much on the Moby message boards last night. I got kind of carried away. There was a thread entitled something like �Your Questions To Moby�, so I asked, �Wanna fuck?�, and that was so wrong, but I thought it was funny. I corrected myself, but then I said, �Okay, what if I bring the condoms?�, and that was wrong too. I really should stay away from message boards. You should�ve seen me when I first got online, over four years ago, and I would wreak absolute havoc in AOL chat rooms! Oh, big fights, flame wars, all night arguments, debates. It was insane. I terrorized the place. Then I graduated to Yahoo! Chats, if you can call it graduating, but they have this Java Applet thing that crashes my PC completely now. Message boards are easier on my PC, but I am still a terror. I can�t help it. It�s fun. Okay, I have work to do. Guess I�d better do it. I�m far too casual today, on Casual Friday. I have on my favorite jeans, and they�re almost to the point where they will no longer be allowed, and a t-shirt with a design by my favorite artist, one T.P. Speer (a cat holding a fish and a fishing pole � he�s wearing a polka dotted outfit with matching hat � he�s fishing, you know?, but it�s not cutesie, it�s more surreal than that, Speer�s a surrealist painter), and my stolen Coffee Shop denim shirt, my Birks are on the floor (I wear my slip-on Birks on Fridays), my legs crossed on my chair. Whee! (D�oh! The new database password keeps being revoked! Twice a week or so we get a new one, announced over the loudspeakers. Right now it�s down. Again, whee! D., the Supervisor, just joked that might go home, but we won�t, but we want to. Fridays, we don�t want to work. Well, never, okay, but you know. Suddenly I have a lot I want to write about, besides pure drivel, but this is long, so that�s it. As you were.) Cost of the War in Iraq
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