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2001-12-22 / 5:12 p.m. ~Quickies, Odors, and a Five Day Vacation - Time For Dreaming!~ Today begins five days off from work, one right after the other. I started the vacation in the usual way, by sleeping, a marathon of sleeping and mostly dreaming. So many dreams, I'll be considering them on and off throughout my waking hours, no doubt. Right now they're lying in pieces on the floor of my subconscious mind. Fragments. But at the time....well....at some point in the past day or so I began to think I may require some sort of pharmaceutical to keep me from R.E.M. sleep. I dream WAY too much. Today I think I enjoyed it. I must have, I awoke exhausted at several fine times, 10:15 seemed good, and later, before noon, but I couldn't imagine getting up, no, it couldn't be the right thing to do. So, I slept until around 4:30 p.m. Now....I don't feel so tired, just reflective, I'd guess, and I wish I could look at some instant replays from all those dreams. So many dreams, I'm not kidding. I wonder if other people dream the way I do. I was so active, I think I might even have had sex, or at least found someone I wanted to have sex with. Oh, here comes a personal portion of this entry, so if you're not into it, don't read it, but there are only like 2 people reading this, out of maybe 10 or more who have the password...so, whatever. I wrote a day or so ago that the very idea of sex was totally repulsive to me, but shortly after that I hit what I believe is my fertile portion in my cycle. The part where I'm always sort of wet and ready, where I find myself daydreaming about sex, where I tend to look towards crotches when I'm close to men, like at the hockey game, where I kept saying to Kukla, "MEN!!! LOOK AT ALL THE MEN!", as we wandered around between periods....getting beer and fries. So, still not wanting to pretend to have sex, especially not all by myself, knowing that doing that would make me feel very lonely, I at least decided to have quickie orgasms using my little "clitoral stimulator". And here, if you're still reading this, let me recommend the Xandria catalog, if you don't already know of it. You can order sex toys from them ONLINE, and the service is very good. Keep in mind that if you do, order online, they will send you catalogs all the time forever after, but they are not labeled as such, they arrive in envelopes, and you can't tell what they are until you open them. Still....yes.....I recommend their stuff. And I've been enjoying doing that, the quickie orgasm, before falling to sleep - no, that's not why I've been dreaming so heavily, but thanks for staying on top of things. I've even been considering quickie sex, like with a stranger and condoms. It's occurred to me that I may never be ready for an actual relationship, not ever, who knows, but sex....yeah, sex could be good. Maybe with someone I'd never have to see again. Oh, it's just a thought at this point, an idea. Moving right along..... I lent my CD of Gil Scott Heron to Rasta at work, "The Revolution Will Not Be Televised". It's sort of a theme album, but not really, but it's very much suited to the young black male of any generation, and though it was written, played, executed in the early '70s I think it's relevant today. Amazingly so. Rasta was so appreciative, but he didn't pay attention when Penelope played it on her CD player at her cube a couple days ago. Lately, he is on the phone, like non-stop, on some personal calls......I have no clue who he talks to. But he took it home, the CD, brought it back, said, "I don't know if you need this back, I didn't have time to listen to it, last night was crazy", on Thursday. Well, no, I don't "need" it back. I lay in bed listening to it on Tuesday night, brought it in for him on Wednesday, we listened to it at work, no, I've heard it. So, he took it home again, and yesterday he came to me asking if I'd sell it to him. He said he found some "jew-wells" on it, some jewels. I said I knew he would, I knew he'd like it. So, I refused his offers, said, "No, you keep it, think of it as a Christmas present. Merry Christmas. Besides, you'll get more out of it than I ever could, you being a young black man.", and he laughed, gave me a big hug, said, "Tank you", like he does, in his little Jamaican accent. "Tank you again". Then he spent the rest of the day talking on the phone. I know he is not right for me, but sometimes I fantasize about us together. There is something very appealing about him. Then I think he's totally pretentious, and I'm turned off. I think it's all an act, the dreads, the Rasta hat with the African colors, the accent....he's from Brooklyn, not Jamaica, his grandparents are from Jamaica.......like Henry Kissinger never losing his accent, it always bothered the hell out of my mom! I have a good bullshit detector when it comes to people, and mine goes off around him all the time. Plus, he's nowhere near as bright as I want him to be. I can't believe the things he doesn't know, at 26 years of age.....too ignorant for me. I'm not sure I want to write anymore about work. Not on my five day vacation, but I guess I need to encapsulate yesterday since I skipped my diary. I walked in to the department and was hit by a horrible odor, it was that dried eucalyptus you find in craft stores, or in dried flower arrangements. Lulu had this huge urn filled with fake flowers, and dried eucalyptus. In her cubicle. I thought she'd gone overboard with the decorating, but it was for her home. I think one of the women on the other side of the suite made it for her, I'm not sure. But my first reaction, having just gotten up, had a cup of coffee and a shower, and rushed to work as usual, was, "That stinks!". Oops. Sorry. Not too tactful, I know, but it was making me feel nauseous. And she didn't say, "Oh, I'm sorry, let me move it", no, she said, "It's eucalyptus, I think it smells good", and that seemed the end of that. I put my little desk fan atop my overturned trash can, and blew it right at the offensive odor, and began to read my Entertainment Weekly. That was when Rasta gave me my first hug, motioned me to him, ugh, he reminds me so much of my ex-boyfriend......., he's started in with the morning hugs, like Penelope. Lulu has too. We'll just see if it lasts beyond Christmas. It felt great to hug him. He asked if I was okay, and I said, "Yeah, I'm tired, and that smell is making me nauseous". So, later I noticed she moved it to an empty cubicle, and even later when I said, "You hate me because I hate the smell of eucalyptus, don't you?!", and we talked about it, because I couldn't stand the way she'd stopped making eye contact with me (Jesus, these people are fucking insane!), I realized she moved it because she couldn't stand the smell of it in her cubicle either! That was how the day started. After lunch, the Manager (M), came by, seemingly to chat, then gathered us to listen, and we had another lecture about eating in our cubes. Yes to snacks, no to a full meal, no to lunch, yes to a bagel, a hardboiled egg, wait, that smells, but that's a snack, yes to popcorn, hey, that smells!, yes, but it's a snack, no to chicken and rice, but what if it's in a cup?, not a plate, not with fork and knife, oh, you know, not a meal, just a snack. Turned out Listerine had complained behind Veronica's back, to (M), and we had gone through this, again. Lulu mutters, turns sideways to mutter to Veronica, and (M) says, "Yes, is there something else?", and she says no. Aaaarrrrggggh! They mutter about how petty this is, and Penelope has got her seafood gumbo on her desk and I say yeah, it smells like bouillabaise or something, knowing they have no clue what bouillabaise is, and I think that's funny, but Penelope wants to eat, thinks this is so petty, and Lulu keeps muttering, "This is child's play", and I say, "Maybe we shouldn't eat ANYTHING at our desks, if we want to eat we should go to the breakroom.", and (M) says, "What about cookies?", and I say, okay, why don't you draw up a list of what is okay and what is not okay, and Penelope is positively sulking, god, this is so stupid, and they all think it's stupid, but it's not. I say, "Look, yeah, we're a tight group, precisely, and we're a call center, and we're stuck in our cubes waiting for phones to ring, we can't get away from the odors, why can't we be considerate? I mentioned it at the last meeting, the Golden Rule and all that, but nobody's following it!", and (M) said it's about odors, but if that's true, cut out the damned popcorn! Insane. No Christmas cheer, just petty bullshit, petty arguments, hormones, too much garbage. And Rasta says, "Love and Blessings" in his Rasta cap, his dreads. I got a lot of reading in. At the end of the day I couldn't wait to run out of there, didn't say, "Oh, well I won't see you guys before Christmas, I'm off Monday, let's have a big hug, all of you!", no, I said, "Bye". Last night I stayed offline, again, like I hardly ever want to be here anymore. Isn't that insane? On one hand I think it's a great thing. Being online requires such close concentration, watching TV means you can get up and move around and still be watching, sort of. Reading would be best, but it requires one to sit still also. Sleeping is best, it's so active.....and you can go places you'd never imagine. So, last night I watched the Thrashers vs. Carolina, and I actually watched. Well, after "The World's Most Deadliest Job" on the Discovery Channel.....crab fishing in winter in the Bering Sea. Sort of a "Perfect Storm" documentary, but with snow crabs, not swordfish. Fascinating. Manly men being manly. Then, the Thrashers, and we came close to winning, yeah, we scored 4 whole goals, but we lost in overtime, we tied at 4, then they got one past Hnilicka. Oh well. After that, it was "Son of Dracula" in bed, along with the quickie orgasm, and I fell asleep far too promptly. I think we know the rest.....dreams......dreams.......cats waking me up.....dreams......spooning with Gladys......dreams........ Now it's dark. I missed most of the daylight and I hope I am not affected by Seasonal Affective Disorder. SAD. Sad. It's when you're deprived of sunlight due to the winter season, and Happy Solstice, by the way. No, I'll be fine. Hopefully I'll head out to get some Thai in just a bit. I wanted some last night, but knew I didn't want to eat at the restaurant, the last time I did that I was SO bored, but the traffic going north on the highway was insane and I knew I'd get my food then have to sit in that traffic jam....so I got another of those Chik Fil A salads with chargrilled chicken and honey dijon dressing....mmmmmm.....and some "nuggets". I was thinking of a new slogan for them, "Don't be afraid to 'chicken out' at Chik Fil A". Whaddya think? I think that's all I have for now. I got email from Anna, she has invited me to brunch with her and Guenter on Monday. Remember Anna and Guenter??? I met them protesting. They are having a New Year's Eve Housewarming Party too, and I've neglected to RSVP so far. I hate to commit. I'm afraid I'll go, meet someone great, fall into lust and not get what I want from it, or I'll go, not meet someone great, and feel depressed and lonely. Once I did meet someone at a New Year's Eve Party, and it was a disastrous nine months of torture following. A tragic love affair. I'm afraid it's colored my future New Year's Eve plans, forever. Anyway, guess I'll read some diaries now, go get some Thai, after the "morning constitutional" of course, the morning being now, at almost 6:00. Hah! Cost of the War in Iraq
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