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20 june 2000
----- "Oh fuck" My usual first two words of the morning, in this case spoken to myself at around 10am, dragging myself to consciousness on this tuesday morning, late for work if anyone cared, but nobody does. So I waltzed into the office just before 11, fighting a slightly cramped back and a foul emotional state (yes, I _must_ be menstrual, possible or not), poured myself a cup of coffee that wouldn't have looked out of place in a Webster's dictionary illustration next to the word "sludge," and contemplated the impending daily grind. I should have known something was up when I popped over to the next-door minimart for lunch. After picking up a shrink-wrapped "Oscar Meyer Lunchables" package (deluxe version, of course), I unconscously headed right to the beer case. I had a 16 oz Grolsch in hand by the time I realized what I was doing ... I replaced it and instead opted for a Jones "Blue Bubble Gum" soda, the most obnoxious looking thing I could find on the shelf. It was one of those workdays where you look back upon it and say "Man, if I had it to do over again..." Then again, I probably would have done the same exact thing(s). "I've just realized something. I don't believe in hard work." Brutus looked at me as if I was insane. He's a Navy boy, trained on discipline and the time-tried principles of sweat and hard-earned rewards. In a second, I saw his respect for me drop a notch. I didn't care. He'll get over it. I wouldn't bother to explain it to him. I could have qualified my statement by saying that I don't believe in hard work for the sake of hard work, but it probably wouldn't have made a difference. The truth is, I've never consciously worked hard at anything in my life. The times I've worked hard, I was enjoying it, so it didn't seem like work, and I never realized I was working hard. But if anyone thinks I'm gonna slave away at something I don't enjoy, they can just forget it. It's never happened, it ain't happening, and it's not gonna happen. Maybe I'm just lazy, that's all. My old boss once told me that genius is borne of laziness. And it sounded absurd to me at the time. He pointed out the great inventions in history, the light bulb, the car, the remote control ... all of them were conceived out of laziness ... a desire not to work so hard for the intended result. I'd begin to attempt to apply the above principle to my sex life (or lack thereof), but I'm too fucking tired.
"I think I'm in love."
That was at the alehouse, which seems to have become a bastion of beautiful women of late. And we sat there, three horny guys, unabashedly objectifying chosen members of the female ranks as they walked past our corner of the bar. What will it take for me to stand up, for once in my life, and act on a first, albeit strictly physical, instinct and strike up a conversation with an immediately attractive woman of the opposite sex? "Um, hi, you're beautiful, can I take you out sometime?" "Better yet, can I just make a fool out of myself in front of everyone right now?" "Hi, I don't know you but I worship you so can I be your slave for a while, do your laundry, drive you places, take you out for ridiculously expensive meals, tell you how wonderful you are, be your whipping boy, wipe your..." Down to Long Beach now.... "We'd like the lobster, but just one question: Do you have those really cool plastic bibs with a picture of a lobster on them?" They had them. It was the highlight of my day. That and seeing Jen. We hooked up for dinner and a few hours of incredible conversation. But the conversation is always like that with Jen. Sometimes I think we're the two most lonely-hearted people on the planet, although she does seem to get laid a helluva lot more often than I do. We've made an informal pact to get married if neither of us has found anyone by age 70 or so. And then we'll live out our years together, playing shuffleboard, feeding the birds, and talking about the good old times when our hormones were in full swing, making us miserable, and at the same time thankful for each other to bitch to, to confide in, and to draw comfort from over a delicious seafood dinner. They let me take a plastic lobster bib home as a souvenir. How cool is that? I still think I'm menstrual though. Check out the forum. ~~~ In the forum:Do men have "periods"? 20 june 1999: cycle-ing : I was just thinking that it would be interesting to keep a journal of my monthly cycles, and how they affect my moods. 20 june 1998: enjoying me : In the fridge, twenty jumbo shrimp are marinating in a cayenne ginger garlic olive oil concoction I whipped up. Later they will go on skewers over some very hot coals.
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