Friday, August 31, 2001
Just got sad news. Guy was meant to come back to New York this Saturday night but has been asked to work out of the Paris office next week for a business planning session so he won't be in NYC until Friday eve (Sept. 7th). He wrote a nice e-mail explaining and gave me the full rundown of his vacation. He said he misses me very much. It made me realize that I really do like him even with all of the "problems". He would be someone I would like to establish a relationship with. The real question is what kind of relationship do I want? If I just want a casual, fun, no-pressure sort of thing, this might work. If I want a live-in boyfriend with all the trimmings, it probably won't. Despite all that, I miss him. I had hoped part of my weekend would be spent with him but now I must find alternate plans. It shouldn't be hard to do on a fine summer holiday weekend.
Thursday, August 30, 2001
Last year my aunt kept sending me these really trite "Daily Motivations". They were very earthy/crunchy touchy/feely sappy sentiments that were supposed to be uplifting. They were crap. I finally got her to stop sending them by creating the following (which I just rediscovered)...
The grass is always greener on the other side,
Until you try to get to it.
When you try to hoist yourself over the stockade fence that separates you from it
You only realize that you aren’t nearly as strong as you were when you were younger.
You strain your back and cut up your legs as you fall eight feet to the green grass of the other side.
Once there, you think the worst is behind you and decide to run barefoot through the beckoning blades to celebrate your new better circumstance.
Unfortunately, it is hard to see the dog shit that lurks beneath the lush carpet of green.
You find it though
By stepping in it.
As it oozes with unusual warmth through your splayed naked toes, you think –
“I wish I were back on the side where the grass is always browner. At least there I knew where the dog shit was and if I couldn’t see it at least I would have had my shoes on.”
So you see, change isn’t good.
You will always want what you don’t have.
Stick with what you know.
Your talent to get stuck with the shit stays with you
no matter which side of the fence you’re on.
Wednesday, August 29, 2001
Last night I realized that I am really very alone. I guess after spending time with my family and feeling very included in everything, I feel too solo back here in New York. When I went to bed last night I felt that pang of wanting to have someone who means something to me in bed next to me whom I could just curl up with and drift off to sleep feeling safe and special and wanted...maybe even needed. I can't say that I want a boyfriend, I'm certainly not whining about being single, but I do think that it would be nice to have someone around who is on my side. Guy is sweet but there is a lot wrong there. He travels quite often, he is bisexual so there is this odd distance and he is French so there is a bit of a language barrier. I had thought that the closeness would come with time but it really hasn't. I haven't seen him since a week before my vacation. When he is in town it's usually only a couple of nights a week that we get together, if that. For all intents and purposes, he is just a casual fling. I find it easy to make friends in New York, but very hard to find a special someone. At least a constant someone anyway. Someone who's there often enough to keep the lonliness at bay. As Dave Boyes would say (and I think it truly fits here)..."Hey ho."
Tuesday, August 28, 2001 Why is it...
That when British people sing, their accents seem to vanish. Well, almost. The words "been" and "water" still retain the British pronunciation. Americans say "been" as "bin"... Brits say "bean". And "water" here is "wadder" or "wadduh" whereas the Brits say "wau-Tah"...it is odd.
Monday, August 27, 2001
5:15, time to go home. I am bushed. ambushed. hmm. interesting. I am bushed because I was ambushed last night. By a really hot man of German, Irish, African-American descent. The combination worked well together. Remember what I said about not having had sex for two weeks. Well that dry spell has been "re-moistened". The man didn't know what hit him. Oh, I need to go home and turn on the tube and vegitate. I'll start back at the gym tomorrow...for tonight it's me and Anne Robinson 'coz right now I do feel like the weakest link. Well, I have only a weak link to consciousness right now. I'm hoping to slip into a coma at about 8 pm after a little meal of some sort. A light, yet pleasant repast is what I seek. Whereever shall I find something delicious and nutritious...think think think. I refuse to eat Mexican food tonight. Although a Jalisco burrito would hit the spot. Perhaps a tempting quesadilla...with beef. Maybe a gigunda salad with every vegetable known to man is what I should fetch for myself. Feeling punchy, time to go. I just read blogs all day. Catching up is so difficult albeit extremely entertaining. BTW, Locotek said some very nice things about me...read it here.
Sniglet from Sunday...
Three innocent words
Walking along the Hudson River with John and Glenn. John is a good friend, Glenn is more of an acquaintence. Says I, "It's strange how I've recently started listening to my old Kate Bush albums again...all the time."
Says Glenn, "Who's Kate Bush?"
I still have scrape marks on my chin from where it hit the pavement as my jaw dropped open. Glenn and I will never be friends.
Saturday, August 25, 2001 What the hell... I have: Lots of freckles
I see: Idiots everywhere I look
I hate: them.
I wonder: What people see when they look at me
I miss: My grandmother
I find: I'm really not as strange as I thought I was growing up
I want: Less.
I regret: Taking so long to just be me
I need: To feel loved
I wish: I lived in Europe
I fear: Flying
I hear: That little voice
I love: Who I am becoming
I smell: Very infrequently
I crave: Attention
I feel: Fine.
I am partially back from vacation. (meaning: I am not yet back in New York, that happens tomorrow, but I am also no longer at the beach.) I am rested, tanned and well-fed. I have not had sex of any kind for two weeks. God save the man who next finds himself in bed with me!
Friday, August 10, 2001
Okay, the countdown begins. You may say to yourself, "Oh, how cute, he's excited for vacation and is counting the hours until he leaves." but you'd be wrong. The countdown is for the time I have left to play on the internet and blog. I admit I am slightly addicted to these activities. I'll be in a lovely seaside cottage on a small spit of land that is surrounded by water on the southern coast of Maine all the makings for a great two weeks of relaxation except there is no phone line. I will not be able to check e-mail. I will not be able to blog. I will not be able to read Jerkcity. I'm afraid. I'll have so much catching up to do when I get back...eeek! So, until the end of August. Big, wet, sloppy kisses...
I am going to the beach for two weeks. I don't particularly like to walk around with my shirt off (body image issues...that's for some other time) but I am far from overweight. I am actually in okay shape for a 35 year old man and in excellent shape compared to my fellow Americans. This article sums up, with superb eloquence, the current shape of the nation.
Thursday, August 09, 2001
I work for a huge, multi-national company some of you might have heard of, it's called AXA. Being here in the US I tend to forget this fact since we really are isolated from the rest of the world. But I just got our annual Activity Report and it hit home...we have a presence in the following countries:
France (home base), United Kingdom, Ireland, Germany, Switzerland, Austria, Hungary, Belgium, The Netherlands, Luxembourg, Spain, Portugal, Italy, Turkey, Morocco, Cameroon, Gabon, Ivory Coast, Senegal, Togo, Lebanon, the United States, Canada, Australia, New Zealand, Japan, Brazil, Chile, Argentina, Uruguay, Hong Kong, Singapore, and China. Maybe I should ask for a transfer...somewhere. The UK to spend time with David, Jonathan, Rob and Ian. Or how about Australia to spend time with Davey B. Or New Zealand with my friend Rachel. Or Germany, Austria or Switzerland to brush up on the German. Or even France...and live at Guy's Paris pad. The possibilities are endless...but for now I sit here in New York...not a bad gig.
Wednesday, August 08, 2001
It's hot outside. I love the heat but in New York City the heat brings the smell. The smell I can do without. It pervades every street. But no two streets which it graces smell identical. It can vary from rotting garbage to baked urine. The most unnerving is the festering stench of what one could only classify as putrifying corpse. It envelopes you and takes your breath away. Lately, the side entrance of the builing I work in has created its own delectible putrescence that I really don't have words for and I walk half a block out of my way to the main entrance to avoid. I guess I should re-read Patrick Suskind's "Perfume" again to really get into the stink of things. (A great book that I highly recommend). On the positive side, I am a little gassy today and letting one rip on the street really won't even raise an eyebrow from those around me, it couldn't possibly smell nearly as horrifying as 8th Avenue on a sun-baked 98 degree Trash Day.
I got this link from David and it is hysterically funny. I didn't know that the common earthworm was anything's natural enemy, but apparently...
Tuesday, August 07, 2001
Just sitting here thinking that at this time next week I'll be sitting on a beach in Maine, two weeks of no work, no responsibility, no hassles. If you are saying to yourself, gee he just took vacation...you're right. I get almost 6 weeks vacation a year. I love working for a French company!
Monday, August 06, 2001
And I'm sure I'll go back when that "need to have sex right now" feeling comes back.
(Oh here I go, don't let me go, hold me down. It's coming for me through the trees. Oh help me, darling, help me please. You take my shoes off and throw them in the lake, and I'll be two steps on the water. I don't know what's good for me. I don't know what's good for me…)
Some of the guys I've met there seem like they are craving attention from whoever will give it to them
(I found a fox caught by dogs, he let me take him in my arms)
the anonymity can be really exciting
(his little heart it beat so fast)
and I like it to stay that way, so I never give my name or phone number
(and I'm ashamed of running away)
after all it's just an impersonal encounter
(from nothing real)
I like to walk away with no attachments or expectations
(I just can't deal with this)
It makes it easier to forget that it is something I like but sometimes feel guilty about liking it
(I'm still afraid to be there)
Even though I go pretty regularly, I feel like I'm not really part of it, an outsider in "their" world
(among your Hounds of Love)
although I get the attention I need there, so in a very superficial way I don't feel so lonely
(and feel your arms surround me)
I just don't often admit to many people that I go there
(I've always been a coward)
Is it right or wrong, I can't say…but it's part of my life
(I never know what's good for me)
Me, Late Night New York and the Hounds of Love I went to the after-hours gentlemen's club I go to from time to time on Saturday night.
(Now Hounds of Love are hunting)
I always feel a little apprehensive when I go there.
(I've always been a coward)
I go and I participate but it never really sits right with me afterward
(and I don't know what's good for me)
But when I'm there I get to switch into high sexual mode that would be inappropriate in my day-to-day life
(Oh here I go)
it's very primal and something that controls me more than I control it
(it's coming for me through the trees)
It's always a little unnerving and sometimes I feel like I should just leave
(oh help me, someone, help me please)
but then I shake off that apprehensive feeling and just jump in
(you take my shoes off and throw them in the lake)
and I find myself in a world that I always wish existed when I was really young and not sexually active…I think that is the attraction
(and I'll be two steps on the water)
Apparently, I'm Willing and Able which is true. But not necessarily for a relationship!
"You want to be in a relationship, but you're somewhat wary of giving up your independence. No worries -- when Mr. or Ms. Right comes along, you'll know it, and you'll be ready. In the meantime, have some fun and carpe diem while it lasts!"
By the way, one of the questions is about age. It asks several options, two of which are "Early 30's" or "Late 30's" I am 35. Middle 30's. So what should I put? I naturally ticked "Early 30's". The cup is half full and all that...
I defended myself and said that it wasn't true. I went to church, I cared for the ill, I didn't even own a cat let alone a black one and everyone knew that witches all have cats. I recited the Lord's Prayer without error to prove that I was not a witch because no witch can get through the Lord's Prayer without error. I also explained the most milkmaids never get smallpox for reasons unknown. But they were not swayed. They rushed toward me and I fired a shot in the air. It did not stop them and I had no time to reaload. The grabbed me, tied me up with rope they had brought and carried me to my bedroom where they placed me on the bed and left me. I heard some of them rummaging around in the main room below me, looting I would assume, and then I heard things crashing. Then I smelt smoke and heard cheers outside. I panicked because they had lit the cottage on fire. I was terrified. The smoke started to fill the room and I began to gasp and cough. I felt so terrified, but also so sad that my life was most likely ending. I wondered who would tend to my cows and why the villagers were doing this to me. Then everything went black. I didn't wake up in a start like I usually do after a terrifying dream, but I remembered the whole sequence of events this morning in much greater detail than I just explained. It was almost like it really happened and I was remembering it.
Apparently, I was a milk maid. As I went about my chore of collecting the milk I seemed to be enjoying what I was doing and was actually quite good at it. About halfway through my task, I heard yelling in the distance. It got louder and I went outside to see what was going on. There was a crowd of people coming from the village up the small rise to my cottage. They were carrying pitch-forks and torches much like I have seen in Frankenstein movies. But the me in the dream knew that something was very wrong and that I (she) was in danger. I ran from the barn to the cottage and grabbed a small pistol that I had in the cupboard of the main room. I loaded it and went back outside. By this time, the crowd had come up to the edge of the area between the cottage and the barn. I told them to stop. I don't need to go through all the dialog but apparently they had become suspicious of me because although I spent many of my afternoons caring for those in the village who had been afflicted by smallpox, I myself seemed to be magically immune. Also, I lived alone...no man in my life. My skin was also smooth and unscarred unlike most of the people of the village who had survived smallpox. I was accused of being a witch.
File this dream under extremely bizarre
Every once in a while I have a dream that seems so real I have to adjust back to my true reality when I wake up. I had such a dream last night, it went like this...
I woke up in my small cottage bedroom. There was only one window and a rope bed. The floor was made of unfinished wood planks and, since my room was in the eaves, the ceiling was thatch. There was a small roughly made "dressing" table in front of the window with a small hand mirror and brush, a chipped wash basin with pitcher and a few hair combs (the type that hold your hair back.) I got out of bed, reluctantly, and moved over to the table. I picked up the mirror and looked at my reflection. I was not shocked to see that I was a light haired female of about 19 or 20. I brushed my hair (which was actually long and I felt quite proud of), put the combs in to hold it out of my face and reached over to a peg in the rafter where my dress, apron and type of hair bonnet were hanging. I got dressed, pulled on my boots/shoes and descended the wooden ladder to the main room below. I apparently lived alone. I walked outside into the bright sunlight of a warm spring day. I could see a village in the distance, there was only one building near me which appeared to be a very primative barn. I walked toward it. When I got inside, it was full of cows that needed milking as they were quietly lowing and the sound was very familiar to me. The smells were strong but pleasantly familiar. It seemed very real and ordinary.
Wednesday, August 01, 2001
I am trying to repost my Archives and I am getting this...
ERROR: while trying to send file to server. QUIT 221-You have transferred 211845 bytes in 7 files. 221-Total traffic for this session was 214208 bytes in 7 transfers. 221 Thank you for using the FTP service on www.blogblog.com.
God! Last night I was walking down my street at about 6:30 and this woman and her boyfriend were putting a sofa and a loveseat on the sidewalk. They were practically new! I stopped. The loveseat was exactly what I have been looking for. I asked them why they were dumping them (thinking that maybe they were stained or the cat had pissed on them or something) and she said, "We're moving out of town." I asked how old the sofa and loveseat were...she said, "We got them three months ago!" I WANTED that loveseat. Dilemma, I had no one to help me carry it up my (everyone) four flights of stairs to the lovely fifth floor walkup. I asked if they would help me carry it to my building and I would figure out how to get it upstairs. "No, sorry, we're in a rush." I said I would give them $100 for the loveseat. Still no. Arrrrggghhh! Then I saw my superintendent standing outside the building. He speaks no English. I went over to him and began to madly gesticulate that if he would help me lift (bend to ground pull up with arms) the loveseat (point to said piece of furniture) and carry (hold hands in front of me, mimicking holding something heavy while bouncing up and down) it to my apartment (pointing to top of building) I would give him $20 bucks (hold money in front of his face). He said, "No" and rubbed his back. GOD DAMMIT! So, having no way to snatch the loveseat from the sidewalk, I had to continue on my way. If you know me, you know how hard this was for me. I cannot walk by a piece of perfectly good furniture without taking back to my abode, even if only temporarily. When I returned later, it was gone. Someone more resourceful than me (or perhaps just lucky enough to have a spare pair of hands to help) apparently had gotten a brand new loveseat back to their apartment. They won the street furniture game...I, unfortunately, lost.
So this is what I did do last night:
Called my mom
Dropped clothes at the Laund-o-rama!
Worked on resume...more on that later.
Bought some groceries
Went to Therapy (next week is my last week)
Picked up my apartment a little
What I didn't do: Call my sister
Go to the gym :(