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2001-08-15 / 10:06 p.m. ~My Dinner With Andre~ Well, I didn't have dinner with Andre, but that movie was interesting, "My Dinner With Andre" - I actually sat all the way through it, a veritable intellectual gab fest, years ago when I lived in my first apartment and stole cable television. Two men having dinner, Wallace Shawn and what's his name, Andre somebody. If I hear it I'll say, Right, HIM! I think their conversation was somewhat similar to the text of Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, which I actually read, when I was in college and in love with Steve, because Steve wanted me to. It was important to him, as Herman Hesse's Siddhartha is. I slogged through all that "a priori" stuff, all those brainy concepts, theories, etc., and felt I understood what Pirsig was trying to say, but all the while thinking he was going in circles trying to say it. It's not that I don't have a high IQ, because the combination of genes, fluoridation and breast feeding did provide me with one, but I don't have a head for certain ramblings. It's a left brain/right brain thing. Pirsig had a mind too big for its own confines, and I think it drove him crazy. I wonder if he is still alive. But, this was no movie, and this was no book, I simply went to dinner with A. after work and we enjoyed it immensely. Okay, maybe not immensely, I don't know, but it was enjoyable. I like her company and I was happy she invited me. She had really wanted me to go to the dinner last week, but I just couldn't, so I guess she wanted us to have our own dinner, just us two, and that was much better for me. I think I'm more of a one on one person anyway. The restaurant was loud, so it was kind of hard to communicate, but we did, and the food was good, but our server sucked, but it was good, anyway, it was all good. I think we can go out again, and she can get away from her constant boyfriend/fiance and I can get out, to dinner, not just takeout, but actually eat in a restaurant with a friend and leave tips and judge the quality of the food and the service, and drink beer or wine. Wow, an actual dinner companion. Maybe next time we can find a quieter place, graduate to topics like rational thought, and technology vs. humanity, or the evolution of species and the planet. Robert called a couple nights ago. He left a message on my CallWave, wanted me to log on to Yahoo Messenger, let him know he could call back, then we could talk on the phone. Only I didn't want to. Any of it. So I contacted him online tonight, to apologize for not getting back, and he asked when we're going to start "seriously dating". I told him we're not, he is too inconsistent, and of course he wanted to prove to me he's not. He's already promised to prove that he can promise to prove that he is not inconsistent, that he comes through. But it's too late, I'm tired of it. Of him. And there's the physical. I don't find him attractive. And why did he positively reek of urine when we met for the movie? I remember my friend B. once smelled the same when we sat together at a movie, and I was thinking it's a guy thing, it happens when they don't 'shake off' enough or something, it's residual urine on the penis because men don't use toilet paper when they urinate. But, to reek? Was it his dogs? Did his dogs pee all over his clothes and there was no time to change? And he wore the same exact t-shirt he'd worn on our first date, that Grateful Dead shirt, and he pointed it out, again, like he had before. Yeah, I see it. I have LOTS of Dead paraphernalia, are you trying to impress me? Maybe the urine smell is some new men's cologne? Some pheromonal essence I'm supposed to be drawn to? There is the huge pot belly too, and the no hair, and the bad teeth. I'm serious. Am I being too critical? Is it wrong to want to be attracted to the person I choose to date? I don't mean to criticize him harshly, these are mere factual observations. The hair is mostly gone, thus the constant baseball cap. He always wears one. He has the figure of a man who never exercises, and enjoys eating too much perhaps. The urine smell...I don't know what that was. But it was so strong I came this close to commenting..."Did you piss in your shorts or what?", but I didn't. I chalked it up. When are we going to start seriously dating? I said, You are too inconsistent, for one thing, and instead of asking what the other things are, he merely said he'd prove me wrong, again. This is where I heave a long sigh. I guess now he knows there will be no "us". He says he's there, or here, if I ever want to go out, and when he asked if I want to on Saturday I lied, said I already have plans. Me, being direct, in as nice a way as I can. The Robert portion of the program appears to be over. I knew he'd never build me a computer. I knew it just as I knew we'd never go to the zoo with his little girl, as I knew we weren't going to that film festival that time. I can detect insincerity, sometimes... And Derek? Hmmmm...all I did was question an email with "no subject" as its subject, the time taken to type those two words, and only a phone number, no text. Yes, I wrote back, finally, I questioned his motive, but he's letting it slide. He wants it to slide right down and off. I'm gone, to him, no more reading of my diary, he's gone. It made me uncomfortable anyway. It really did. I think the new permanent employee in our department used to be a man, but I can't be sure. She simply strikes me as either a man in drag or a transsexual. The plot thickens. Cost of the War in Iraq
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