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Friday, Mar. 29, 2002 / 6:55 p.m. ~Listerine Is Down For the Count, and Other Ramblings on a Friday~ **I wrote the following from work this morning** The newest temp was so quiet for so long, and now she talks, loudly, really loudly, projecting like some theatre-trained actor, blech. If it's Friday, it means one enters the building to the scent of burned sesame seeds. Overly toasted bagels. Well, well, well, today we celebrate equal rights for women in the Middle East! The latest suicide bomber was a woman! Yea! Oh, wait, should we be celebrating? Was she the first? I thought it was a man's world, the world of the suicide bomber. There was some profile of them, the men who give the orders, how they choose the bombers, where they find them, etc., on some news program not long ago, and it was very fascinating, especially the way the ones giving the orders, calling the shots, are not interested in dying themselves, but they are so good at convincing the bombers that it's the best thing to do. I'm writing this in stages. It's later now. Listerine is down. She had some diabetic reaction and she grew quiet, D. saw her, asked if she was alright, we were in a meeting and Listerine was the only one sitting. She became dizzy, an ambulance arrived, a fire engine, a stretcher was brought in, and our resident diabetes expert, Lulu, has instructed us all on the differences between Type 1 and Type 2 diabetes, what one can and cannot eat. It looks like Listerine ate some foods she should not have eaten, something about fried chicken at breakfast. I don't really know. There is weird energy today. Do I sound flaky saying that or what?! It's true. I'm sensitive to the vibes, always. Really. I can't wait to leave at the end of this day, I can't wait to get online on my break, to go home at lunch and squeeze Norman, to not be here. It's not bad here, the energy is not bad, it's simply growing too intimate for my taste. I prefer to be more private, more removed, and when we get too touchy feely I grow uncomfortable. Intimacy issues? With my co-workers, yes. And now a woman bomber. I'm dying to know what percentage are women. If I had internet access right now, I'd look it up. Lulu is proselytizing. So, we have $22 so far for the Big Game pool. If we win, I think we're all guaranteed at least a million, after taxes. Not bad. If we don't win, we're out $2 a piece. Not bad, again. I'm thinking a lot about Washington, considering yet another 15 hour road trip, on a bus, with mostly strangers. I know I'll end up doing it, assuming there's room, I feel I have to, this is the best opportunity to experience true unity and patriotism, to stand up and say Yes, I love this country, but I have the right, I cherish the right, the privilege, to speak out, to tell my government when they are not serving me well. This is my duty, as an American Citizen. I did not elect Bush, but he now believes he speaks for me and I have to say NO, you do NOT! I get all excited just thinking about it, about being around all those people who are not afraid to speak out, all those voices united for causes both passionate and humane. Practical, obvious, without question. Being around people whose eyes and ears and mouths are open. People who want to change the world. I love the very idea, and to see it, to be amongst the throng, is one of the best experiences ever. When I marched in September, when I turned around and saw how many we were� there may not be words to describe how amazing it felt. To see the people standing on the sides of the streets, flashing peace signs, supporting us, outnumbering the few who waved flags and shouted at us, to see the cops on horses protecting us from them. The feeling of exercising my rights as a citizen of what was conceived to be the greatest country in the world, the most free, is one of the best feelings imaginable. So, the time is getting closer, I got email yesterday saying the permits are all in order, the march routes set, the bus drop-off points are all designated, people from all across the country will be converging on the 19th and 20th, and now, I'm getting excited. We're talking. The phones aren't working, or something. I've announced that my birthday is next week and they'd better all start planning now! So, we're sharing birthdays, marking calendars, and I've found out the last temp, shall we call her� Riley?, is also an Aries. The suddenly loud one, an Aries. Today is Norman's birthday! She's 12. I gave her a big hug and kiss, and she'll get several more later. She's my special girl. Not that Gladys isn't. Gladys will be 11 on April 4th. And then she can be my special girl too. No, I don't love one more than the other, are you crazy?! ***Much later: I'm home now. I just love that Ed Bradley is wearing a pinstripe suit and an earring while reading me my nightly national news. Love it. He looks so handsome in his old age. I think he's always been handsome, but now, the neatly trimmed gray hair, beard and 'stache, the earring, mmmmm�. I don't get the Palestinian/Israeli thing, I mean, isn't it like the Protestants and Catholics in Northern Ireland, and previously in all of Europe? Isn't it just a huge religious war? Is it that the Palestinians believe Israel should be theirs? Or they want a separate "homeland"? I don't understand. And I'm getting all these activist emails, on account of I'm on a couple list servs, and I'm supposed to go protest, to show support, but to which side? How can I support the Palestinians when they bomb the Israelis? Who is right? I can't jump on this bandwagon, I will not go protest tomorrow, or show solidarity, or whatever they want me to do because I do not understand and I feel I'd need a college level course, a semester, or two, of studying, just to wrap my brain around it. That aside, the temperature outside is delightful, really nice. In fact, it would be great to be outside. Why am I here? Inside? So I opened the porch and the window in the bedroom for the great cross draught, but then I saw all the pollen on the porch, on everything, all yellow and pollen-y, dusty, and I thought, Hey, do I really want all that pollen in HERE? Hmmmmm� makes ya think. Hey, I found out, right at the end of today, that Lulu's husband is a scab! Yeah, he works at Lockheed Martin and they're on strike, but he's gone in because he needs the money. Again, I don't know all sides, I've never been in a Union, but isn't that horribly wrong?! Doesn't the Union take care of you? And when the Union leaders decide to strike, aren't you supposed to strike? Wow. Penelope mentioned it, said she'd chatted up some fellow who also works at Lockheed, mentioned, Oh, yes, I know someone who's husband also works there and he is no longer striking, he went back, and she told Lulu this, and my head was turned, but apparently Lulu freaked out! She said, very quietly, "You do not tell someone that someone is a scab, you just don't", but Penelope didn't get it, she didn't know the term "scab". Oh dear. I stayed way out of it, logged off my PC, and came on home, but I was thinking, OH WOW! Lulu's man's a scab!!!! Crazy. I have a headache and I'm tired, but it feels good that this week is over, I'm home, it's Normie's birthday and we'll open up some canned food for her, and her friend Gladys later, I'm sure. I have 34 Big Game tickets in my possession, 29 from the pool at work, and 5 of my own, and I hope we win something, anything, just something. The jackpot is $76 million. 34 chances are better than none. This I know. This is so long! I removed my picture from yesterday's entry. It made me so uncomfortable to have it here, and no one said a word, as usual. Not one word. Not a, "Hey, you look happy holding little Lilly", or "That's YOU?! Gawd, you're ugly!", or "Aw, what a little bitty newborn baby, how cute", or anything. Nothing. So, yeah, fuck you. :) Anyhoo, guess I'll go stare at Ed Bradley some more, but you know I'll want to sit here and read diaries first, and that takes so much time, and my throat feels dry, and I can blame that on the pollen, I think, and I need to order up some food, 'cause there isn't shit to eat here, and when will I go shopping anyway?, and this is a "tax free holiday weekend", so I'd better find out what's exempt and go buy something, right??? Cost of the War in Iraq
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