Monday, Mar. 04, 2002 / 7:31 p.m.

~Two Fridays This Week~

Really, when a person sleeps all day it's kind of difficult to sleep that night. I think I could've stayed up all night last night, but after watching "Manhattan" I went to sleep. One of those fitful sleeps, wherein one wakes every hour or so, or less, or sometimes more, but often, surely. And why have I remembered being so in love with Woody Allen's "Manhattan"? The whole bit with Diane Keaton as this nervous, high-strung, uber-intellectual was tiring. Thankfully, Allen himself provided the comic relief...mentioning he was reading the Sunday NYT magazine, but found himself stuck on the lingerie ads. Things like that.

Yes, Gordon Willis' cinematography is spectacular, but the negative framing, as he later used in "Stardust Memories" tends to grate. Or maybe it was me. Maybe I was still grated. All things grating me. Perhaps I was grate-full?

I feel much better today. It was somewhat of a relief to go back to the cubicle. Not to answer phones, but I felt at home, on schedule, with a purpose.

I asked D., the Supervisor, for the whole day off Wednesday. Why fuck around with just an hour or two, having to explain? I went in, first thing, filled out my Request for Time Off form, went to her, said my Good Morning, and asked if I could have Wednesday off for a vacation day, something like, "Do you think it would be okay for me to take a vacation day this Wednesday?", and yes, it was fine, fill out a form, oh, here it is, I have it all ready for you. Fine. Dandy.

I will not only go see/hear Anthony Bourdain at the Borders in town, but I can sleep late, lounge, shop, whatever I choose. A day. For me. Not a typical day, not a Saturday nor a Sunday, but a Wednesday. I love Wednesdays off. This will be good.

There are supposed to be some local restaurants providing food, a "tasting" at the Discussion/Q&A/Signing. Too bad I already bought my copy of A Cook's Tour, signed, first edition, from Food Network, online. Or maybe not. I plan to take my copy of Kitchen Confidential, hopefully he'll not be all snobby, and he'll sign it for me. God, I miss book signings.

I worked at an independent bookstore for 4 years, and we had SO many signings..... I met all kinds of famous people, have I mentioned this here before? Julia Child, Dinah Shore, Anne Rice, Jimmy Carter, Molly Katzen, Tom Robbins, Ali McGraw, Martha Stewart, Emeril Lagasse, Barbara Kingsolver, Rita Mae Brown, Diane Ackerman, Nathalie Dupree, Anne Willan, oh, man, it goes on and on.....mostly cookbook authors, because I managed the cookbook section.....but others, anyone, everyone. The cookbook authors I got to meet and greet separately, show them my section, we'd chat a bit, I'd help them with the books, gather them to sign, etc......I miss the books. I miss working in a bookstore, the people, the craziness, even the selling.....

Anyway. I'm about to start heavily reminiscing, so I'll move right along.

I've got Wednesday off, and that's so very exciting, comforting, hopeful. I have something to look forward to.

Sunshine called me from her cubicle several times today, first to ask how my weekend was, then to tell me about weirdos on the phone, to check her new headset, to tell me about a cool boxed set of Grateful Dead CDs....anything and everything. I'm glad she's there.

And my Girl Scout cookies arrived! NINE boxes. Oh yeah. NINE. $27. worth of cookies. I am so stoked. "Stoked"? Did I just say that? Well, I'm excited. I opened the Alohas, I think that's what they're called, and they're so good I almost ate the whole box. Macadamia chips. Mmmmmmm...... Everyone thought I was crazy, but secretly, they're jealous. Envious. They want my cookies. I brought them all home, but the Alohas, and when they're gone, I may take more back to my cube, to lock up in my filing cabinet.

I'm thinking some cookies might be good right about now....maybe some Tagalongs.......

I ate a California Pizza Kitchen Garlic Chicken pizza for dinner. Quite good. I'm wearing a tshirt, with v-neck sweater, flannel pants, wool socks, I have a full belly, it's going down to 18 degrees, but I'm cozy and warm. Still crampy - yep, didn't expect me to leave that out, didja? It doesn't just go away. Speaking of, I was thinking, the world should be SO glad I am not in charge. I am completely non-functional so many days out of every month. Well, wait, I functioned today, but just barely, or maybe just with difficulty. Maybe I underestimate myself?

Most likely, I'll give up on this day soon, watch a couple more "GL"s on tape, maybe part of the Thrashers vs. Canadiens game, pass out early. One more day, then a day off! I swear, it's like two Fridays in one week.

(By the way....this is Entry Number 365. That's one year's worth, in less than one year. And that's including the one or two I actually DELETED, and we won't even get into why that happened, but still, man, that's a lot, huh?!)

(More to add: Crap, the stats don't lie.....I had my diary locked for about 6 weeks in December and January, due to a huge misunderstanding with a gang of diarylanders.....it was horrible. The way I felt was horrible, being called a "bitch", and worse, anonymously in my guestbook - which has since been deleted, the whole guestbook - was horrible, but there were stats. There were IP addresses, I knew who was whom, after a while. Lex, of Lexdesigns, was the one who'd left the anonymous notes. She never signed them with her own name, but sometimes with other names. I found out it was she. Stats indicate she dropped by my diary today, went back to the entries she'd missed, the entries that were locked away until a few weeks ago..... but why? She, and Eris, and maybe others of the design gang, have come back to read what they missed. When I wrote to Eris to ask why, she denied it, told me to leave her alone, but I had to send her the stats, show her I have proof. Why? I wouldn't mind an answer. Why do they want to come back here to read my rantings and ravings from that time? The stats don't lie. I see who they are, I know their IP addresses, I have them written down, I can see which pages they're reading, they're all from last December, right after the whole horrible event. I'd once planned to lock this diary again if they came back. But I don't want to, not anymore. It's crazy. I'm bothered. But what can I do? I just needed to tell someone, so dear Diary, I'm telling you now. And it's not like they want to know me, it's not like they're reading what I write now, they're just going back in time, searching, and for what? It's frustrating. Every time I begin to feel good about anything, anything at all, something happens to remind me that I'm not meant to be happy.)

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