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09 october 2000
----- Sipping mandarin vodka, smelling my shoes, second-guessing my life... It feels like a sunday, but it's not. I sorted through all of my laundry today, save for one dress, one "top," and one bra. Said three items need to be cleaned by saturday, but I'll be damned if they're goin' in my pile, especially considering my idea of "doing laundry" is dropping it off at the cleaners and saying "take care of that please. i'll pick it up in a few days." The cleaners'll get the wrong idea, they'll tell my buds in the bar next door, then it'll get two doors down to the pizza place, and less than a day later, the whole town will be lookin' at me funny. Malibu's small like that. Strange little vibe here. On friday, one of my coworkers offered to loan me one of her 38-C bras because it would probably "fit me better." I looked at her increduously, and she burst out laughing, lit a cigarette, and blew the smoke into my face as if to tell me I was denying myself more than I fathomed. Seriously though, are women turned on by guys in dresses? In the immortal words of Daryl Hall and John Oates (and later, and lesser, The Outfield), Say it Isn't So. Thank you. I've gotta put this fucking dress on again on Saturday night, and my parents are gonna be there, and all they're gonna be thinking is "Look what our son has grown up to be (just add the yiddish accent at your leisure here) -- oy, if gramma could see you now, she'd be rolling over in her grave!" Yeahma, tell me somethin I _don't_ know. A year ago I was in love, in a happy relationship, getting laid regularly ... hell, I was so "happy" I felt no need to spew in the journal. Right? Today I'm lonely and dressing up as a woman on a semi-regular basis. What the fuck happened? ~~~ Putting the date on this entry, I just realized it's John Lennon's birthday. He would have been 60. Yes, I have all of the Beatles' birthday's remembered. It's not a conscious thing, it just is. As for me, I turn 32 on sunday. Old man. 09 october 1999: : on a long hiatus09 october 1998: : on a brief hiatus 09 october 1997: recipe for a mixed up soul : And I bore very easily and very often, usually 15-20 times a day. Unconsciously, I reach into my pocket, whip, flick, inhale, flick, inhale, and without thinking I'm sucking myself closer to death. What a wonderful existence. [ swim back | email me | swim ahead ] |
