Thursday, Jun. 05, 2003 / 10:59 a.m.

~Ups and Downs and All Arounds~

Outside it�s cool, and blue and green, and I wish I were there.

Inside it�s fishwife stuff. Two are taking prescription drugs and talking about the effects of their �medicine�. I picture them becoming addicted. Veronica will spend this day telling anyone who�ll listen about how she left her purse on top of her husband�s car last night. She left it �wide open, checkbook, debit card, everything, all night long�, and it�s because she was taking muscle �relaxers�.

Isn�t that cute?

Drugs. Just say �no�, man.

Then she questioned a woman from another department about why she hasn�t been at Church. �It�s Pentecostal now, but you don�t know that, you ain�t been, you can�t get up early?�

And this, what is this, seriously, I just heard it again, what is it with this laugh that ends with the sound of loogie hocking? It�s a normal laugh, however the individual person�s laugh sounds, and it ends with this bizarre throat clearing, phlegmy thing. I hear every black woman here do it. And it�s purposeful, if subconscious. What is it, and why???? If I could spell it, I�d write it here, �kcckhhccckhhhchcccccsssss� sort of. It irritates me to no end. Especially right now.

And now they�re talking about Martha. Let me put on my headphones, one moment�

Gipsy Kings� ahhhhhhhhhh�

And what was with the one, she came down the aisle, pausing at each cubicle, that�s three, to give a hug, and I didn�t want a hug, I think the hug thing is so unbelievably phony (and there was once a woman working here who hated it so much she went to Management to complain� and she is a warm and giving person, very affectionate, but she hated the Southern Black Christian Hypocrisy as much as I), but I looked at her and expected to make some eye contact and say Hello, at least, at LEAST, and she didn�t even look toward my cubicle.

Outsider? Only one of my kind? Isolationist? Misanthrope? Yes, I may be, but I can be as outgoing and friendly as anyone here, and if I look you in your eye I will greet you, I will ask you how you are, I am very dynamic and extroverted and alive, and I really don�t care for being ignored.

There are six of us here. Six women. Right now there are two from another department joining us for training purposes. They�ll be here for half an hour, at most, two women who�ve never even looked me in my eyes, though I�ve passed them numerous times in various hallways here, for YEARS.

I�m an open person, I really don�t care what color you are, or what your religion is, as long as you don�t discriminate against me, but I�ve never encountered so much racism and segregation as I have here, working in this office. And I think I�ve tried to overlook it, tried to get past it, as this is my job, after all, and I have to find a way to survive here, but when I notice the unfriendliness, in spite of my efforts, it�s really startling and upsetting.

I�d like to think I could work an assembly line, or do some mindless work for a lot of money, but I do like human interaction when I�m surrounded by humans. So, when the humans surrounding me are all interacting amongst themselves and totally ignoring my existence, not including me, purposefully ignoring me, yeah, this isn�t fun.

Walkman, reading material, challenging phone calls, these save me.

Away from that topic completely� as I was chopping myriad ingredients for my potato salad extravaganza last night, I listened to the CBS Evening News, and the Martha Stewart story, and I was muttering to myself, angrily, that she�s being made an example, and it�s because she�s a woman, and she�s so successful, etc., and some man was being interviewed, one of those interviews wherein the subject sits at a desk, or in a chair near a desk, and usually there is a bookcase behind him, or a computer nearby, on the desk, and he wears glasses and looks intelligent, and he was saying EXACTLY what I was saying. It was great. I didn�t catch his name, I have no idea who he is, a lawyer maybe, or an economic forecaster, or a media analyst, or a stockbroker, but he said that this wouldn�t be happening if Martha weren�t a woman, and a successful woman in a time of economic crisis, and that the good old boys at Enron, etc., were never treated like this, nor will they be, or some such.

I don�t know, it was just really ironic that he started saying what I�d been muttering, almost to the letter. And I love this about the CBS Evening News, that they�ll show both sides, they�ll really present both sides of a story, more now than a couple months ago, surely, but in general, yes. Look at �60 Minutes�, it was groundbreaking for its whistleblowing. So, sure, it was nice.

And Jon Stewart�s take later, on �The Daily Show� was great too! How we haven�t caught Bin Laden, or Hussein, but WE HAVE MARTHA! He even said as much to Madeline Albright when he was interviewing her, got her to agree with him, �We have Martha though, right?�, �Well, yes�. Too fucking funny.

Amazing how those wacky Gipsy Kings have made me feel better about being here. And writing makes me feel better too.

Kukla says it�s supposed to rain by the end of the day, and this is disturbing because it�s so incredibly beautiful right now, and I�m here, not IN it.

Now they�re talking about Rudolph, and how the cop who found him should receive the reward. I was at Centennial Olympic Park that night� but I left before the bomb. I was hanging out there almost every night, after work. I worked at a coffehouse in town, and lived way out in the exurbs, the prospect of incoming Olympic money having upped my rent 50% and chasing me out of town, but I loved being around something so exciting, and all the people from different states, different countries, and buying pins (I have a large collection of Olympic pins). There were free concerts almost every night, and I was there that night for a concert � right now I can�t remember who was playing, but I could look it up� Burning Spear? It was reggae, and it was supposed to be one band, Black Uhuru?, but they swapped them out with another reggae band, like all reggae bands are interchangeable or something, and I was pissed, but I stayed, and the band was good, and there was another band playing after, one I�d heard of, but I wasn�t sure I�d like their music, and it was late and I had to take the train and I had a long way to go to get home�

And when I got home I turned on the TV, and there it was, every channel, maybe an hour after I�d left, a bomb had detonated.

Wow.

I went back, as I recall, the next day, or the next, however many days were left, bought more pins, hung out one night with a guy who was fun, and also collecting pins, and good at bargaining and trading (though I wasn�t into trading what I already had � I only made one trade), and quite drunk. We had fun though.

Memories. The whole capture of the suspected �Olympic Park Bomber� brings all of it back. And that poor man who was falsely accused too, so horrible for him.

PMS. The one who apparently snubbed me earlier and sent me into a tizzy of perceived hatred and reverse racial discrimination, asked if she said Hello to me, and we had a whole discussion about morning greetings, and morning people, and eye contact and hugging, and etc., and we make up really well and I gave her a hug because I really, really like her (she�s fairly new to our dept and I�ve yet to assign her a nickname), and I don�t want us not to get along.

I�ve done a lot of navel gazing over the years, a lot of self-analysis, and I realize I have different neuroses, complexes, a bit of a superiority complex, and an inferiority complex, which combined are really weird, and it�s worse/more evident during PMS. I remember talking to Nelson about hormonal effects on the psyche during PMS, and he didn�t believe it at all. He said he understood water weight gain, bloating, consequent breast tenderness, cramping, but the didn�t get the irritability, sensitivity, confusion, sudden anger, depression, sadness, etc., he said women use menstruation as an excuse for certain behaviors. Typical for a man not to understand, and we argued about it, heatedly, and then had phone sex.

Long time ago. Now he calls and I ignore him. I�m seldom in the mood for him, and I�ll never trust him again, he broke the trust, any trust we/I had. The unreality of our �situation/relationship� (what movie did I just see wherein someone said, �We don�t have a relationship, we have a SITUATION!�?) is unnerving.

Alas, it�s only 10:18 a.m., cubicle time, and as I see �Page 3� at the bottom of this Word window, I think of a diarist whose diary has long, long entries, and I love to read them, I want them to go on forever� Her diary is locked, so I won�t recommend her to others, as it would only be a tease.

Cost of the War in Iraq
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Run, Kitty, Run!

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