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Thursday, Oct. 09, 2003 / 7:19 p.m. ~Nope, It's All in Code, You Won't Get Any of It~ D-Land stats indicate SEVENTY-NINE unique hosts visited my diary yesterday. And you know what they were looking for, right? But why did they click on something called "It's Only a Diary"? Seems kind of odd. 79. Usually? About 13, maybe 20something on a Thursday. Mostly search engine hits, about five or six from Diaryland. I have 47 diaries listing me as a favorite, but of those, about half are dead diaries, and one of the diarists is actually dead. Yeah, go figure. Just as well, I said it all in my LiveJournal this morning. Well, almost all, but don't think I'm going to put it here knowing who might read it. Nope, if it involves you, I'll put it someplace else. It may seem I'm tactless and rude, but I'm more caring than that. And I separate sex from love, if I'm not in love, separate sex from feeling, it's body, not mind. Mind says no, this is not a good idea, and body says, sure, if you want to please me, please away. But when it's over I could go for another sip of beer, or a walk, or a cigarette if I smoked. Or maybe just inhaling the smoke of everyone else's. I was clogged all day. Like I'd smoked a pack. Suffice to say my 'wild hair' was tweezed and now it's gone. I rode a rollercoaster yesterday and slept very little and most was spontaneous and very fun, yes, know that I had very much fun, and Carol rocks. I know I don't know her, but she impressed me so much I can't tell you. I love my Polaroid of her, or her with me, us together, and Kukla wants to know why my tongue is out, so I say, "Because she's HOT! Look at her!", and I'm serious. I wanted to see her dance, but we had to leave because you're an old fart who's jaded and bitter and parties too hard on a regular basis. I work 9 to 6, I come home exhausted every single day, and sleep away my weekends with the exhaustion that's accumulated, but I have energy to burn. Aries. Look it up. We don't quit when a good time's to be had. Have I written about the times we took acid, my brother and his woman and me? She would say, "I'm going to bed", and we'd say, "Wait a minute, you can't do that". I think she was always ready to give in. I love to dance at that club, every single time. I've danced there with him, with myself, with women, men, more alone than not, and not once have I felt self conscious, I've always felt it just doesn't matter how I move when I'm there, that everyone there does his/her own thing, and it's perfect, the best way to do it. It was worth the four hours sleep, the waking and dropping my clock, and it suddenly showing 1:00 and the confusion and the calling Time because the hands on all my clocks were not moving, or so I was convinced. I've not been so confused in a long, long time. And I forgot to eat last night after remembering, but I didn't feel that today, I ate a cereal bar with my coffee, something I never do, never eat in the morning, because I did fear I might fall down, pass out, etc. And I made it the entire day, even woke up (er, so to speak) in my cubicle just right after about 2:00, forgot to take my afternoon break. And ate a wonderful craving-fulfilling Blimpie Best sub, on wheat, at lunch, and got my pajama pants from the leasing office - I'd indicated they should be left there by the UPS person, but the UPS person did NOT leave me a note to let me know he/she had been here, and left them there. Long story, but I have them, they're exactly as pictured, I must wash them and wear them soon. I wrote to John too, asked him what he wants, what does he want from me, and how can he be divorced, how can people get divorced, how can anyone 'vow' to love someone forever, forsake all others, forever, until fucking DEATH, and then change his/her mind? I don't believe in divorce, so I won't get married, but there's no one to marry anyway, no one I like that much. Never have I met anyone I like that much. And Jesus, dude, you piss me the fuck off with this "Some guy in your life must've really hurt you bad" crap. I'm independent, I need a man like a fish needs a bicycle, I rallied for the ERA 'back in the day' (wow, I forgot about that, I was a protestor earlier than I remembered - from age 20?), there are people who don't 'need' other people, they 'want' them from time to time, then they want them to go the fuck away, and if you don't understand this, that is your own ignorance. Telling someone how she feels, or how she thinks, instead of listening, is not just rude, it's insensitive and stupid. This is why we don't see each other as often as some people might. There is a level of intolerance there, and it's intolerable. So much going on, so much. I read about the dude who got the love bite, the one in the show, you know the one (no more searches, okay?), and our star player on the team with the guys with sticks, the ice thing, and how he's hospitalized and the other one is dead, and tonight is their first night of the season, the opener, but I figured I'd be dead tired. I don't think so now, but I'm home to stay. Tomorrow I wanted to go to the Fest, the one assembled by those Mediterranean peoples (no, it's all written in code from here on out, at least for today), but rain is predicted. Best news, I got to wear my new shoes last night, I even danced in them! They're light and fluffy and feel so good. I wore them to work and felt light and floaty, and like I had a secret, because I did, but it's not a complete one, and I'm telling you, if you were on my LJ friends list you could read all about it... (no comments, just a lot of silence over there, but I really don't care) I just ate an entire California Pizza Kitchen Garlic Chicken Pizza. I'm garlicky now. And very full. And I shall swallow a handful of vitamins and some echinacea for good measure. I skipped my vitamins last night too. And I looked like crap too, I'd been crying, I was so upset at what happened with my Supervisor (oh, that was in the LJ too, dammit), her Art of War disarmament technique and everything, and then I was drinking wine, and feeling better and sloppier, and then smoking, and then, well, yeah, and then dancing, and flying and I think I may have dreamed it all. Cost of the War in Iraq
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