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Wednesday, Jul. 30, 2003 / 7:42 p.m. ~Trying to Make it Short~ I think I've written some really LONG entries lately, so maybe this should be short, for balance. I'll try. Wow, I just went totally blank. Okay, here's something worth noting in my diary, even though I considered not admitting it, even if it was an event occurring solely within the context of my subconscious mind... This morning I was dreaming about my ex boyfriend, the one I lived with for four years, was involved with for 6 years, the most, or maybe second most, influential love relationship I've had in my adult life. He wanted to be with me again. In the dream. I'd received some note from him, or summons to meet up, or something, and I was at his living space, a loft, or warehouse, or something, details no longer clear at all, but we were getting along well, he definitely wanted to be with me again, and at some point we were on his bed, kissing, or about to kiss, and he seemed to want to be close to my breasts, so I opened my shirt for him, and he backed off. I looked at him, questioningly, possibly even verbally questioning him, and he looked at me like he didn't know how to say it, but then he said, and I think this is a direct quote, "You're not girlfriend material". Yeah. I'm fuckable, but I'm not girlfriend material. That was the gist. It was weird, and I didn't sleep well, a combination of being too hot, throwing covers off all night (the PMS thing), and dreaming too much (the PMS thing) and having a cat want to cuddle or play or something (not a PMS thing, but an every night thing). Alas. Then I awoke to the sound of rain, which was weird, as yesterday was hot and sunny and beautiful, if hot and sunny, when rain had been predicted and I'd been prepared with umbrella and sneakers that can get wet. So, today, rain. Penelope showed me she had actually worn galoshes this morning (she gets to work an hour before I do, so I'd missed seeing them), and I said I didn't know they still made them, but she's had hers for years. I have some too, in my storage locker. Ah, my storage locker. Please, someone help me empty that thing out! It's been 12 years!! I pay rent on that thing every month. 12 years. Do you know how much money that is? Oh, here's something else - I caught our Manager (M) doing something very wrong today, and I told her, "You're supposed to throw paper with socials (social security numbers) in the big bins! You said we'd get in big trouble if the bigwigs ever came by and saw us just throwing socials in the recyling bins!", and she sort of gasped, looked like she was going to pass out. Really. It was too great. I caught her. She made some joke about how I always do things right, and I'm on top of things, and then, "Well, nobody's perfect", and unh huh, especially not you, sister. Especially, don't forget it. That's it. I'm tuckered. "BB4" is on in an hour, eviction night - Jack's gonna go, I feel certain. Could be wrong, but he's got no bond with anyone, he's too old - why such a non-diverse crowd? Sure, you've got two Asian Americans, but the rest? Very homogenous, white bread. Tomorrow I get to meet Trouble, and I hope she doesn't mind me linking to her, and I hope nothing interrupts our plans to meet because I've read her entire diary and I feel I know her, in that way that we feel we know each other from reading each other's diaries, you know? So, she'll be my first Diarylander to meet in person, in REAL LIFE. And that's cool. In my town, and I can show her one of my favorite hangouts. I look forward. I was going to a big club party tonight, but I wasn't sure how to get in the door, what invite would be necessary, but today, the day of, I got the official invite, invitation, I know, and it's too late. I'd already told Kukla I changed my mind, I wasn't going to be turned away at the door. I'm pissed at the people behind the email list, for sending me the official email last minute, but I'm not up for it anyway. I just want to lie down and watch TV. I'm saving my energy for my big meeting with Trouble anyway. She may be wiped out, but I should have some good energy, assuming things don't suck at work. Yeah, I'm missing a very cool party at a very cool club, free drinks, free munchies, because I'm just wanting to park my ass on the sofa. Bad timing. Oh well. That's offically it. Cost of the War in Iraq
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