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Monday, Jun. 10, 2002 / 7:39 p.m. ~Now I'm Thinking Berries~ I don't know why it should have taken me just over a week to go to a store and purchase the recommended body lotion for my tattoos, but it did. And although the label promises Curel won't be greasy, and it won't clog my pores, my skin is sort of sticky where I spread it, rubbing gently. My tattoos still hurt a bit and the peeling is finally subsiding, but they itch. Hurt and itch. I've been using the Vaseline Intensive Care for skin that is beyond hope, or actually For Extra Dry Skin, but I put on the Curel, the green bottle, as "She" said, and I immediately felt it going to work. This is good. This is much better. Of course, wearing jeans and other long pants, dancing in long pants, walking in long pants, jeans, what have you, and the hair growing back in on my legs, well, none of it has felt good. So to sit here now, in shorts, with lotion, no sleeves, all of it is my skin breathing and feeling refreshed, cared for. Ahhhhhhhhh. I don't have much else to say, really, surprisingly enough. I stayed up too late last night, got up too early, worked an extra half hour, and we all used the new database, and we don't like it, but we'll use it, because we have to. And I had to process the mail because Veronica was out (but we were warned NOT to be out, so what the hell?), and Listerine was back from vacation and had to be trained. So I just felt like I was moving constantly all day. Even when I was sitting still. I just wanted to stop. I wanted to relax, but I never felt I achieved relaxation. Jon was supposed to call over the weekend to firm up plans for tomorrow, but he never did, so he called at work, first thing, earlier than first thing. I don't even get there that early. And he called again, as he said he would. He never says, "Hey, this is Jon", he says, "HELLOOOOO?!". He's funny. A funny guy. Actually, he sounds incredibly like my friend Joe on the phone, and sometimes I think it's him. I wasn't going to go to any trouble for this movie in the Park thing, really. Eat before I meet him, take a bottle of water and my blanket, lay out the blanket in the best viewing spot we can find, he sits on half, I sit on the other, we watch the movie. Period. . But he wants to bring stuff. Beer. Treats. He's never done this sort of thing before, this movie in the Park thing, and neither have I, and really, actually, if I cared for him, about him, etc., I could go to a LOT of trouble, like prepare stuff even, but I've been so ambivalent, so up, so down, so pulled in too many directions, that I didn't want to do a thing. Not for him. Not for us. Now I'm thinking grapes, mango, smoked salmon, sushi, mozzarella rolled with prosciutto, maybe tomatoes and olive oil and garlic, or smoked oysters and wheat crackers. I'm thinking berries, strawberries, raspberries, I'm thinking wine on top of his beer. I'm thinking Publix and the Farmer's Market. I need to calm down. But now it's the "what will I wear?", "how will we relate, after everything I've written to him?", "do I even like him, really?", "what will we think after we get to know each other better?", and "am I going to the stupid art happening on Saturday?". Okay, it's not stupid, it's incredibly groovy. And yes, I need to go. I'm not worried about tomorrow, I'm excited. It's not just being with him, wondering about us, and if we'll get along, it's being there, in that inner city Park, the best thing we have, one of anyway, and watching an Alfred Hitchcock movie on a big screen. That is what it is. I'm excited. I almost don't care that Jon will be there too... And today the sky was blue, the air was clear, dry, the heat was not so hot and the wind blows, still. I'm fuzzy. I had a great weekend, it was jam packed, and there are still so many things to think about, things upcoming and my art project on which I've not even started. I need to shoot a roll of film, something which used to be so easy, but now I can't even decide where to go, nor when. I'm running out of time. Stanley Cup action, on ABC. ABfuckingC. I hate the games on ABC. Totally different vibe. Why do they bother? It can't be for the ratings. I guess I'd better eat. I've got a little belly going on and I can't figure out why as I've only eaten a Hardee's Hot Ham 'N Cheese and a banana all day..... then I think, What if this is the beginning of PMS again? Why am I always either on my period, just over my period, or just about to get my period? I must have four good days a month. Fucking menstruation. I'm SO sick of it. Next life, I'm going to be a man. I'm SO serious. Cost of the War in Iraq
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