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2001-09-03 / 1:39 p.m. ~We now return you to our regularly scheduled diary~ Enough about everybody else's diary, really. I've updated my profile, written nice little blurbs about the diaries I like and would recommend, if anyone wants to know about them, go there and read for yourself. Harumph. This diary is about ME! Yeah, me, me, me, me..... Okay. I'm so tired. Too much sleep I'd guess. And too many dreams. I think I woke up the first time around 9:00 and I should've gotten up then - I think my body kinda wanted me to, but I said, No, dammit, it's a fucking Holiday, you think I'm getting up early just because YOU want me to?! No way. Or something like that. So I took turns sleeping with Gladys and Norma, alternating between spooning, flailing them away, yelling at Gladys to get the FUCK off my desk, stop trying to get my attention, I'm TRYING to sleep, and saying, Hey, Norm, you never sleep with me in summer, are you okay? Why do you need me so much? Old girl. Silly old girl. Then the dreams, at the point where I've had too much sleep, the body has warned me, here it comes, the incoherent wake up and say what the hell was THAT about, wait, so I left N and G in the car with a litter box and I had this giant hotel key, and was the room number something like 316? What does that mean? It's a blur. Not like day before when I dreamed Arthur and I were having sex and he had trouble keeping his erection, which really was pissing me off. Whoa. Yesterday I finally left the apartment, walked to the rental office and slipped my rent check into the late night mail slot. No one there, of course. Then I walked to get my mail, and I must have looked like I had a rough couple nights because I could hardly walk at all. Me and Norma, old girls. Yeah, the knees. Whoo, the knees. The one is really weird to look at too, when it's bent you can see the pocket of fluid. Gives me the heebie jeebies. Today is much better. But then, yesterday, I watched "Mystery Train", Jim Jarmusch's 1989 triptych story about some interesting folks all ending up in a seedy motel in Memphis. The first story is about these two Japanese kids on a musical pilgrimage, to see Graceland, Sun Studios, to be in America, in Memphis. They are so cute! The boy doesn't even crack a smile, has this perfect Elvis hair, these perfect patent leather shoes which he keeps all shiny, lights his old butane lighter with a snap of his fingers, pops it back into his shirt pocket from the air. Too cool. The girl is cute as a button, wears short skirts, Capris, and Doc Martens. Has a suitcase full of funky tshirts, Hello Kitty included, and they share the red suitcase, she and the boy. She also has her scrapbook of Elvis photos, all juxtaposed against photos of statues and other people who resemble him. 1989, I remember when this movie was released, the buzz about Screamin' Jay being in it, and the voice of Tom Waits, all the musicians who took part. And now, 2001, and she's got on Capris, he's wearing platform shoes.....fashion hasn't changed....or the Japanese set the trends..... And the story with the Italian woman who is stuck overnight, and she wears a sleevless dress and when she lifts her arms she has long underarm hair, and I say, "Yeah!", cool! And she is beautiful. Then I watched "A Simple Plan", a switch from IFC to F/X. Oh, what a not so simple plan! What an intense little film, what terrific suspenseful editing in certain scenes....the fumbling for the bullets in the airplane! Whoa! And Gary Cole...doesn't he just make the perfect bad guy? Wow, that was a horrible depressing intense well made film. Left me feeling really weird, that one. And my roast beef is all gone, which makes me think of the Grinch and "roast beast", but I really need to buy more food, and it's a Holiday so I'll assume everything is closed, and I may be forced to cook the Tuna Helper I have for emergencies......blech. Not that I don't like tuna, but I'd prefer something beastier. Alas, alack, here is me, Holiday (cue Madonna: "Celebraaaaate!" - maybe not), concerned about watching the plethora of "Guiding Light"s on tape so I can tape today's, but it's U.S. Open day. Okay. Still, I have another date with the sofa, me and a whole tape of GL. And I need to wash dishes, please, someone wash the dishes. Amazing how many dishes pile up when I don't even have any food to cook. How does that happen? La dee da. I'm done. Cost of the War in Iraq
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