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Tuesday, Mar. 16, 2004 / 9:22 p.m. ~I'm Seeing His Hands~ I'm breaking away from the Pinot Grigio habit, and I'm thinking I must go back to the Farmer's Market/Whole Foods to buy many more bottles of this delicious Australian Cabernet Sauvignon/Merlot (55%/45%). Fantastic combination, and too long since I've seen it bottled. In fact, this wine has been in its bottle since 2001. My god it's good. Okay, that's the immediate. The Chinese takeout is gone. I chewed on one of the red peppers in the Ma Po Tofu and realized it just in time to feel the heat. Quickly put a spoon of rice in my mouth and all was okay, even with the coughing. No, no chopsticks for my Chinese, only for potstickers. I dig spoons. In fact, if I could, I'd eat all my food with a bowl and spoon. Yes, my favorite eating implements. Oh no, looks like I have absolutely nothing to write. I'm in a Ma Po Tofu/Cab/Merlot foggy haze of delight. I suppose, in keeping with the physical sensations, I could note that I awoke today with a very swollen gland in my neck, and it was quite painful, but now is only painful when I touch it to see how swollen it still is, and if it is still painful, and yes, it is. Much, and yes. I have a meeting with someone from Ye Olde Interwebbe, Thursday, and I'm not sure why, except maybe it's because I have a profile on Friendster to indicate to folks that I am looking for Friendsters, which I think of as fake people, Interweb people, they're not real, but could they be? And occasionally someone sees my profile there and sends me a message, much like the artist did, but he has been 'busy'/'afraid'/'whatever' to meet me. Now he knows I have some sort of plan this week and is dying of curiosity and wants to meet me on Friday. So, two 'dates'. I tend to pick things I want to do anyway, without the people I'm meeting, so even if the people suck, the Friendsters, I'm still someplace I want to be, someplace (is someplace one word?, it looks weird) I wanted to be, doing something I like. This is my blind date pattern. And, yes, I've done plenty of blind dates and I have particular blind date meeting places, places I feel comfortable, and men seem to let me choose. The 'date' with the artist is to see a movie I want to see. He is too socially deficient to come up with an idea on his own, so I simply said fine, I'm planning to see this movie, join me, why don't you? I think it will be good to get this meeting over with. And done. Out of the way, over. The other person seems nice enough, and shares some of my interests, though not many, not as far as I know. It will just be a getting to know you sort of thing, drinking a beverage or two. I have no hopes, no expectations, but if we become Friendsters, fine. Meanwhile, well, it hasn't been long, I'm still thinking of one who set me reeling. I still reel if I drift into it too far. I am a bit smitten, no, I am, no, can't put it into words, no real need, not online. Maybe not anywhere. Okay, it's his hands. I keep picturing them as he talks. Picturing him talking, and his hands as he's talking. And everything else. There's nothing I can do. Nothing at all. So, I'll meet some new people, try to get out and about, see what comes. And Saturday is the big protest day. Global, don'tcha know. We shall see, we shall see. Most propitious horoscope for that day, something about Venus and Neptune. Major day for love. See, now there's a setup for expectations if ever there was one. Just for one day. I miss my little antiwar community here though, I truly do. I suppose I dropped out, and I'm not sure why. What was I afraid of? Why did I back out? Maybe I can't socialize after all. Ah, well, must drink more wine, sink into this blissful zone of contentment and dirty dishes. Nothing matters terribly right now, even the fact that I'm not sure I've anything to wear to work tomorrow. I just feel so damned calm and content. Fabulous. Cost of the War in Iraq
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