July 15, 2000
The Mood is a Harsh Mistress

So I've gotten the job. And there was much rejoicing. At the moment my terms are being negotiated with my agency, which was supposed to have been finalized Friday afternoon. I'm betting on Wednesday at the earliest. If anything this new position has given me a reason to shop like a fiend, having just gotten home from another shopping trip. I've bought more things that I don't really need in the past month than I have in five years. It's nice to finally be paid the current wages for my work, I shudder to think what's on its way into my closet in the near future. You'd slap me if you saw all the shoes I just bought. Somehow, in my mind the higher my salary the higher my sole rises. In the shortest pair my height is raised at least 3 inches. Makes my ass look in better proportion to my head, I think. At least that's how I'm justifying it today. Check in tomorrow to see how I explain the atrocious pair of paisley skirts that slipped right by me and into the wardrobe this afternoon. Sneaky little shits.

How do you deal with temptation? Really. When something you want is put in front of you, what motivation do you give yourself to just turn around and walk away? A koan I'm unfamiliar with? Breathing exercises? Biting your lip and pinching your arm? Digging your nails into the fleshy part of your palm to redirect your attention? These don't work. I'll never understand why every girl wanted the Duck. Please forward me your solutions. Soon. I do apologize for the cryptic references, they are however, entirely necessary. Do you see the depths that I've sunk to? Funny I misspelled spelled that "suck" four times before I got it right. When the mind resides in the gutter the mouth is sure to follow.

I've revoked my radio ban. I've taken a fancy to the oldies station for some odd reason. Before you laugh, think about it. Which has more belting out in the car possibilities, Johnny Cash's version of "Ring of Fire" or the latest whining one hit alternative wonder? Here I thought I was banished to talk radio for the rest of my adult life. I stayed still in the car last night when I had already gotten home to hear…what's your name… who's your daddy? Is he rich like me? One day I'll understand why that song reaches me in places reserved solely for Adam. I tremble and quiver at the first note.

And back on the bike I rode. If you've never come close to close to orgasm going to far over the speed limit on your local highway or byway, I insist you try it some time in your near future. Just a friendly reminder, you should never say no to something just because it scares you. Unless an burly man approaches you with a can of Crisco and a shit eating grin on his face, by all means at that point you should always just say no. I've learned this life lesson the hard way. I mean my friends told me all about it, yeah, one of my friends.

This morning I felt an old twenty-three. Apparently, as explained by Damsel while we stood in the parking lot with me in my pajamas and oh so attractive sleep in my eyes, her boyfriend invited 15 of his closest friends over last night. They cooked dinner, got pissed, passed out, and then started the whole cycle over again about four a.m. None of these were her friends either. Bit of background, she and I are the same age. Her boyfriend on the other hand is a mere bebe at twenty. All his friends hover somewhere near that age too. I was listening to them while we were smoking downstairs, and while I was very cordial and talked and smiled and Ms. Sally Happy Pants, they were pissing me off. Once I had gone inside and fell asleep they began piling beer bottles and chip bags on the patio/sunroom that we share. Beer was spilled on the slate tiles and they over flowed my ashtray without emptying it. Our stool and magazines and books and everything else we keep down there had been tossed around, and I swear to god if one of those little shits put his cigarette out in my jade plant I'll fucking scream. That poor thing has been struggling for a year, Adam having just succeeded in coaxing it back to life. They're still there now, and it has to be at least four o'clock already. There's nothing to deter me from smoking a cigarette like the inevitable conversation with hung-over pissants that would follow once I've stepped out the door. I wish I was allowed to smoke inside right now, but how could I expect Adam to pay attention to rules I make if I keep breaking them?

I've decided on a new DSL service for my computer, so sometime in the near future this whole topsy-turvy updating system I have now should be on an even keel. It all depends on when my modem gets here. I'm giddy. I can't stand to wait. I feel like a four year that saved up proof of purchase vouchers from a cereal box for a kick ass toy. Now I'm just sitting out by the mailbox everyday after school.

31 Orgasms

No. 4

We parked and crawled into the back of my minivan, given to me by my parents for my last year of high school, seeing as how I had to drive for 45 minutes to get to school. It was a very hot night so we left the air conditioning running. I watched the tree tops come in and out of my vision from the rear window, grinning and laughing at the lengths we had to stretch to to be together those days. Three hours later, I was walking bowlegged with him to his ex-girlfriends house so he could borrow her car to jump off my minivan. We had killed the battery and I was an hour late for my curfew. It was a crow eating night if I ever had one. I laughed while I came. Just try and tell me a better feeling exists in this mortal coil.

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