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Monday, Aug. 05, 2002 / 6:36 p.m. ~Krishna Has Spoken~ I think sometimes I long for the days when I didn't know better. When I put coins in my mouth, sucked all the foreign flavor from them and didn't even care where they'd been. My sister played the accordion, took actual accordion lessons, and we all got in the car to drive her there. It seemed so far away, at the time. All journeys do. Remember this entry? In a meeting today it came out, it spilled out, sort of like a secret, but not really, that Listerine no longer has 'her John'. How did she say it? "I don't have a John any more, so it didn't register." I think that was it. It was about another John, and how could she forget his name, due to her own John, but she no longer has her John, and shouldn't we all have known, and isn't my cynicism bittersweet? I knew it wouldn't last. I almost, so close, just about, but not quite, only almost, sympathized, almost told her I'm sorry, such is my empathic nature. I've been there, yes, me, coming in to work, so excited I can't hold it in, telling everyone who'll listen about this new man, or that, and I have, in 4 1/2 years working with these women, some the same, some new, but still, all open and wanting to know, all eyes wide, ears attuned. Grinning, blushing, all of it. Only to see it disintegrate right before my eyes. And that part I do not tell. They simply stop asking. They know. They can tell. We could tell. She would've said something otherwise. Am I going to say she deserved it? No. Of course not. I feel badly for her. Why do I pity my enemy? Because I can't keep an enemy for long. I can't hate her. I brought her blackberry fruit spread today. Because she likes it. I feel better for my Royale With Cheese. Mit fries. I feel better for my 'fast food', my artery hardening whatever, made with whatever. I'm pretending it's back in the days when I didn't know better. I eat what tastes good in those days. All is well. No worries back then, now, in those days when I know no better. Right now I'm not going to the FOX to see "The Women" and "Mommie Dearest". And I'm not meeting Luis and his boyfriend at the box office. It's 93 degrees outside. I'm comfy from my comfort food, I want to go nowhere, no farther than the living room, from there to the bathroom, maybe the kitchen for fresh water, the bedroom to sleep. Today is low energy day. Today is can't muster the energy to imagine becoming energetic day. It's logy enervated day. My favorite words. I don't know why I'm so sapped. I have a new theory. I gave Moby my Hare Krishna Mahamantra card. You know the Mahamantra, it goes a little something like this: Hare Krishna, Hare Krishna, Krishna Krishna, Hare Hare, Hare Rama, Hare Rama, Rama Rama, Hare Hare. Nice, huh? I like it. I always did. I'm not a follower of Krishna, but I'm not opposed to it. I like the flowing robes, the bells, the dancing, the chanting, and I carried that pink card with the mantra printed on it for some 12 years before I got the bright idea to give it away, to write a little note inside and pass it off to Mo after his show. To try to tell him what it meant to me to be giving it to him, and I did. And then I wrote him an email letter too, to better explain. No response of course. My email addy inside the card as well. Silly me. I've regretted it ever since. I've been low ever since. I am now equating the two. Silly, you say. Silly, I repeat. But I'm discovering a correlation. That was my good juju, my good luck charm, my good Karma. It's gone now. I gave it to someone potentially not worthy. Mistake. My Karma's all out of whack now, I believe this. I've even considered going to the International Society for Krishna Consciousness local chapter to enjoy a vegetarian meal and get another card to carry in my wallet/pocket. I feel lost without it. Even though I have a copy I made on the copy machine at work. It's just not the same. It's the only explanation I can find for feeling so blue, so dirty and lowdown. Okay, not dirty, just blah. Well, that and the fact that I no longer shoot the shit with Lulu at work every day. I am back to my grudge against her. It can't last forever though, I am terrible at holding a grudge. But I don't trust her, I don't like her, I think she has a rotten core. This disturbs me and I hate to even look at her now. Maybe four weeks? This has gone on a while. Me, silent, reading, bored, listening to music, or writing, all day at work, so bored, so dead, me the extrovert, silent amongst a crowd with whom I have little to nothing in common. Proximity without intimacy. Thanks, Dante. It is hell. Pure and simple. Let's hope Sunshine, or whatever her name is, leaves me alone on the damned message boards. Give it up sister, the dude is gay. Why keep qualifying his supposed sexual preference if there is no need to distinguish? Fun has turned to dread. I'm bored with it. Why did I order 3 new Moby CDs online Friday night? Was it Friday? I suppose. The weekend is a blur. Nothing happened. Nothing happened with great rapidity. It's over, and it whooshed by. I suppose I have things to do. I'll get right on it. Perhaps I should chant along the way? Did George Harrison have a song that incorporated the Mahamantra? Seems to me he did....on "All Things Must Pass"? I must look into it. Cost of the War in Iraq
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