07/06/00
07/08/00
07/15/00

Sound; "honey bring it close to my lips"

Sight; I missed the drama at Rob's. I didn't read the entry in enough time and have quit paying attention to diary-l. The last time I checked it I had 732 messages.

Taste; Water. Does that count?

Touch; Everything is sticky. It's not the heat it's the humidity.

Smell; Adam is in the bathroom washing his Teva's. That's a clue to the scent that haunting me right now.

- waiting on the new camera -

July 8, 2000
My Latest Favorite Position.

Slight stress, nothing massive. In deciding to take an assignment another job has popped up. I don't know whether to run, shit, or go blind. I told them I wanted the weekend to think about it. That right there shows me I'm not seventeen begging for scraps anymore. Imagine with me, an apartment that didn't have termite holes in the window frame and tap water that didn't run a red river more often than myself. The reason stress is involved is because even though I've been told the position is basically mine, I still have to flow through the bumpy ride of the formal channels. I'm not an interviewing type of girl. My mind is trying to handle too many miniscule details, don't look them in the eye, instead look right between them… for Christ's sake they probably know that trick. Can she see the band-aid on my foot… fuck, I never should've worn those shoes yesterday, is it possible to get shin splints from heels? Don't repeat yourself. Does she really want to know all that, I probably said too much. She's got a dangling snot ball on her right nostril, would it help me get the job if I told her or didn't tell her?

Do I want to dive back into another corporation's wading pool? I want the check. I'd really like to take more time off. But I saw the greatest pair of slides at Dolce last week. Take the job. Get the job first, but take the job when it's mine. I realize this is more like reading my thought process than a story, but I'm actually making my mind up as I flail against the keys right now.

You know, I didn't even realize that it was open nominations right now. I now know that I didn't want awards, I wanted readers. I have you now, bourgeois bullshit is the further thing from my mind. Then I had to go read Rob's latest, that's how I found out.

I want back on that bike, too.

Husband forbids.

What is wife to do?

31 Orgasms

No. 3

"Shhh, it's alright, it won't hurt long, shhhhh."
"Is the door locked?"
"No one will be in until morning, shhhh"
"Why do you have a fold out bed at work?"
"People work late a lot."
"Not there honey, please."
"Shhhhhhh, it's fine."

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