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Wednesday, Sept. 10, 2003 / 7:02 p.m. ~It's Like I'm Stoned~ I got to work this morning, to my cube, and saw the blinking red light on my phone indicating I had a message waiting. Listerine called me back after she got my message after work yesterday, at work, at 9:00 p.m. Fucking freak. I had told her, in the message, that she might be better off reaching me at work, as I sit there with a phone attached to my head most of the day. So she calls and leaves me a message there, 9:00 p.m., I have to say it again. I'll say this again too, fucking freak. Oh, she was all chipper, telling me how she has been working, with several temp agencies (liar), and she's just in between right now, she's starting something tomorrow, but she won't call to tell me how it's going until she's been there one week, then she will call and tell me. Can't wait. She said she called because Q told her I'd asked about her. I really hate people calling to talk to my answering machine. Someone else used to do that... who was it?? Maybe Hermione, at one point. And I hated it. She'd act surprised if I picked up, "Oh, I was going to leave you a message!". So, what? You called to talk to my machine? This is why I don't answer my phone. This is why I have three phones currently plugged in and ready to go, and I keep the ringers turned off all three, leave the answering machine set to pick up after four rings. Three Caller ID units. Fucking freak. Yeah, I know. That was how my day started, and I had to talk to Q about Listerine, tell her what happened, and then compare symptoms, as we both seem to be 'comingdownwithsomething'. She seems to have 'it' more than I do though, but she doesn't OD on Vitamin C and Echinacea (that word is SO hard to type, for me) like I do either. I won't get sick, I won't get sick, I won't get sick. I'm clicking my heels together, will that help? Yeah, it's in my throat, my neck, my eyes, I'm heavy with 'it'. But it doesn't feel like a cold, not yet. It feels more like what it is, my body working very hard to stave off infection. My body rules. Go, body! My hair is in pigtails. Unbelievable. I came home and just did it, just twisted and turned, and secured with orange hair tie thingies, orange with yellow flowers on them. And it feels good, compact, easy. And the moon is full, and again, I wish I had a yard, or a deck overlooking the ocean, or some sort of scenic setup, but I have not. I think it was Cainer who said to step out and have a look, that it will appear large at sunset, this Harvest Moon, and that Mars will be just above and to the right. Should look. Later. This morning I had a real quality moment with G cat. I awoke to her bounding upon my sleeping vessel, er, bed, is it a vessel?, what about a platform?, okay, bed, and she pawed at the covers pulled up to my chin, and I pulled them back, she crawled on in, and spooned up against me, and I put my arm around her and we went to sleep. All was well until I started coughing. She gets scared, or hates the noise, or something, and she takes off. But it was so nice. When Gladys goes, that's what I'll miss the most, I think, our spooning. She's my girl. Her behavior is an indicator as well, of cooler temps, as it has cooled considerably lately. Funny how that happens. Hot, hot, hot, steamy, smoggy, miserable, just miserable, then all of a sudden it's cool. Wha? Nice though. "Felicity" is on. WE (Women's Entertainment Television) just keeps showing it, over and over, all the way through, then beginning to end again. It's a constant, and I like that. Like any given day, Monday through Friday, you can pretty much count on "Felicity" being on WE, at 7:00 p.m. ET, and I think again at midnight. It's the little things. Like Jane and I trying to remember Samantha Stevens' maiden name. Did she have one? She must have. And it made me think of Lucy, and I thought hers was McGillacuddy, and how do you spell that? Oh, fuck, I'm online, I could research this easy peasy, couldn't I? But that wasn't Lucy from "I Love Lucy", that was Lucy from "The Lucy Show", right? Or do I have that wrong. I could open another window and find out, but I want to finish the obligatory rambling diary update first. Then, and only then, shall I goof off for a couple hours online, until the big "BB4" eviction. I'm guessing Erika will go. Because... if Alison wants to win, she can't go up against Erika, because Erika will surely win, but if she is up against Jun, well, maybe. Oh, here's something else good and fun, turns out Publix carries the mozzarella bocconcini! But they're made by a different company, and they look smaller, but that's okay. And the cashier noticed the coupon on the lid was actually for them, the product at hand, so she saved me money. Gotta love those Publix cashiers, even if they are like Stepford Cashiers. I went on my lunch break, for that loaf of bread I wanted last night, and almost got the lottery ticket I want too, but there was a line, so that will wait. And a Cuban sandwich. (My diary entries lately are so supremely boring, so dull, so matter of fact, so without any rhyme or reason, sort of obligatory and rambling, pointless - hmmmmmm.) Major throat clearing. It hurst when I do this... lift up my chin. My neck/throat hurts. Must take vitamins and Echinacea (so hard to type) and sit to watch tellie. And eat food. Food is good. Why am I so boring? I think it's because I'm not writing from work anymore, not since the idiot Computer Dude gave me the new PC and I freaked about him checking all my shit on my hard drive. I'm totally paranoid about putting anything personal on there, even if it is just a Word .doc that I put on disk immediately and then delete from my documents. Still, nothing is happening lately. No news, it's mild, my life, no drama. Just a mellow comingdownwithsomething portion of the program. It makes me relaxed, like I'm stoned. So I just ramble and observe all the little things, and then forget them as soon as I think of them. (Couldn't resist - a quick Google search finds that Samantha Stevens' maiden name was 'Dobson', but another page spells Gladys Kravitz' name with a 'C', 'Cravitz'. I'm all confused now. Nah, it was Kravitz, with a 'K', and that is the origin of G cat's name. That IS her name. Oh man, look at THIS PAGE!!! I want the journal! Ah, here we go, it's in the book Bewitched a novel by Al Hine, Published by Dell Publishing Co. Inc. Copyright 1965 by Screen Gems, Inc. All rights reserved: "The reader also learns in this book that Samantha's maiden name was Dobson. Note: Some Bewitchedites reject this surname as a legitimate bit of trivia because this is fiction that was not written by a member of the Bewitched staff" Dammit, is the Interweb the BEST RESEARCH TOOL EVER INVENTED or what?! Yeah! Really, still not finishing this stupid fluffy entry, "Bewitched", The Ed Sullivan Show, "The Monkees", these are the first TV shows I remember seeing, circa 1965 - wait, maybe the Monkees came later, but I remember Ed, and I remember that cartoon Samantha on her broomstick opening "Bewitched", in prime time. I was about 4. Okay, I guess that's it for now. (Wait, look at the MUGS!!! I want them!) Cost of the War in Iraq
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