June 21, 2006

Not sure if the midsummer has ever been significant in my life. This is my second in San Francisco, but the year before I was in New York. It was (in NYC) like this:

It was one of those east coast summer days that reminded you that the City used to be, hundreds of years ago, swampland. The air was not so much oppressive as cloying -- a down comforter, light yet heavy, insulating you in with your own body heat and sweat. You dripped with your own glandular excretions, making your hair, your clothes, even your underwear, clammy and limp like a drowned butterfly blown onto the windshield of a car in a storm. To move was unthinkable. To think was difficult, to unthink even more so, which is probably why Darlene was moving, sluggishly, along Bleeker Street; to think about it was worse than simply doing it. Every few minutes she wiped away the film of sweat that coated her upper lip, pressing the pointer finger of her right hand down along the philtrum from her nose to her mouth, wiping it off on the leg of her damp sagging jeans. Two blocks down from her destination, with the Doughboy statue at Abingdon Square in sight, she paused, looking down at hands that felt grubby, with short, dirty fingernails. Looking up, she gazed past the square, eyes slightly glazed, considering, almost turning her body back around, but finally giving in and continuing inevitably, even more sluggishly, along.

She thought, with something like amusement: He looks about as uncomfortable as I feel. And that was all right. She forced a half smile onto her lips and grinned up at him, his slight five-seven made taller by the fact that she was shorter by five inches. "Derek."

"You sure? Whew." She moved towards the café's outer door, which he opened for her.

Above was my way of reliving and revising something of my own personal history. Which, of course, is something you shouldn't do. As if revising your past could make it any better, or more palatable, or more sensible.

Some minutes I feel like I'm on a precipice, about to step over the edge into a completely different world and life and experience -- or, at least, a new stage/relationship in my life. Others, I'm still in a valley I've been stagnating in forever, with a steep cliff to climb before things can truly change.

I'm not disappointed with my life, overall. I like my job and coworkers. I like my home and roommate (except when he leaves dirty pots soaking in the sink for three weeks). I like my social life and the fact that I don't sit on my butt at home all the time. I actually, finally, like myself. But some things, it's time for a change, you know? I have hope, I have disappointment, and suddenly I'm back to hoping again. It's this mountainous part of my life that still makes me want to cry sometimes.

Or laugh. Or just throw myself off that craggy peak, and just see what happens.

And perhaps that's what this June solstice will be to me. Depending on where you stand, it's either the zenith or nadir of the year. It's either the bottom or the top. I'm just not sure which it is right now, where I am.

Where are you?

And I think I should go to bed. Pontificating right after a night's work is probably not a good thing.

June 17, 2006

It would be a walk of shame ...

... except I drove and there was no sex involved.

Last night involved:

• Two coworkers (male) and me
• A new skirt (on me)
• San Francisco's Tenderloin district
• A cigarette
• Pretty damn good sushi
• Pretty damn good sake
• Finishing the above cigarette
• One coworker going home
• A dive bar
• The phrase "My second home," said not entirely in jest
• Another cigarette
• A double shot of tequila, sipped
• A bad game of pool (on my part)
• More cigarettes
• A bartend who preferred his tips go to music in the jukebox rather than into his pocket (the jukebox probably was his "pocket," since the place was owner-run, technically) ...
• ... Leading to a rather eclectic range of rock music as coworker and I each selected our taste in songs
• Beer
• Another bar
• More cigarettes, this time with bourbon
• Running out of cigarettes, buying new packs
• Coworker's apartment
• Coworker's music
• Coworker's fire escape
• More smoking than I've done in the last year
• Put together in one night
• Some Tecate and water
• To sober me up
• Lots more music
• A CD into my eyeball
• Copious tears and laughter
• More smoking, alcohol, music
• "Holy shit, it has been 11 hours, hasn't it?"
• The Flaming Lips
• More fire escape smoking
• Finishing another Tecate
• Finishing the last of coworker's glass of bourbon
• Robot Chicken
• Seeing my childhood thrashed — rockin'
• The sun
• Buying my first Vietnamese sandwich
• Which I am eating right now
• A parking ticket
• Fuckin' street cleaning
• Bed at 7:30 a.m.

Geez, I've really been on a listing kick lately, haven't it? But they are so, so convenient!

Ooog ... gotta go soak my head. Ooog oog oog.

I haven't had this much fun in a long, long time. Awe-some (say it with a Bostonian accent ... oh yeah, that's right)

June 15, 2006

My mantra for the weekend:

I am a peahen. I am a peahen. I am a peahen.

Let those 'cocks strut their tailfeathers for me. Not the other way around.

I am a peahen. I am a peahen. I am a peahen ...

June 5, 2006

I did something to my back. I am not sure what, but when I woke up this afternoon, it felt like someone had tied one of my lower back muscles in a knot.

I even tried to use Buzz-Buzz to massage the spot, but it's buried too deep beneath the fatty flesh of my back to even feel the vibrations. Urgh.

Was it too much sex over the weekend? Did I sleep funny this morning? Or was it the extreme levels of stress from an overload of work this morning, complicated by the fact that the main printer decided to have a shit fit right at 5 a.m., which is always the busiest time of my shift.

Add this to the fact that today was bill-paying day, I'm back on my diet after a week and a half of indulgence (and a 3-pound gain, ARGH I keep getting so close to breaking the 140 mark and then I keep screwing up!), I found out that I have swimmer's ear, and the sun decided to go back into hiding after a weekend of beauteous glory, and you know it's just going to be one of those weeks.

Phooey. Ow. Time to take some Aleve.

June 2, 2006

I think I am at an extremely fertile point in my monthly cycle at the moment.

I want to fuck the brains out of every decently-attractive guy I know. And even a few I don't.

Fuck. So ... horny ... bouncing ... off ... walls ...

Men, please beware.