drunkencynic's Diaryland Diary


tommorrow may rain so i'll follow the sun

My neighbor's dogs are highly suspicious of me. This fact further extends my belief that dogs are really dumb animals. They see me every fucking day.

Then again, maybe I would be suspicious of me too. Lurking around, wearing black, looking pointless.

A funny thing happened at work today (I wanted to say a funny thing happened on the way to work because that would be cool and reference-ish...but the sad truth is- it was at work, and I am very big on being truthful. Plus the story wouldn'ta made sense that way). I was innocently opening the soda closet (a plastic tool shed cum soda closet, actually. Ha! I said cum and it wasn't pornographic...) when all of a sudden the door just blew off and lay unapologetically on the ground a few feet off. Needless to say I practically jumped out of my skin. It is not often that doors blow away in my life. I would venture to say that this is probably the first time it's happened.

Understandably, I was surprised. I felt like I was in one of those movies where everything that possibly can go wrong does go wrong. So naturally I gave a very movie heroine-like gasp that unfortunately nobody heard and proceeded to lift it up and stick it back on. It went on so disturbingly easily that I figured I must have done it wrong, but my boss said, "No, it does that all the time."


In other news, I am going to California soon. Which means I won't be living with my face glued to the computer screen and my hands obsessively pecking at the keyboard. Which means I won't be updating a million times a day. But I shall try to update as much as possible.

There's this little French guy at work who is a total bitch to me. He comes in practically every day and always orders the same thing: 1/2 a chicken salad and a large limeade. Never varies. And he never forgets to be bitchy to me. I don't know why. I guess I'm too much of a stupid American. Or maybe I don't fawn over his accent. He mispronounces everything, including limeade...normal human beings like you and I would say lime ade, but oh no. That kind of common pronunciation is below Mr. French Midget. He needs to call it limee ade. Go figure.

I'm a bitch. Get over it. And yes, I'm sure most French people are lovely. I just haven't met any of them.

Something I wrote last night about Thomas and I in an effort to clarify it all to myself:

with you came freedom

a taste of adulthood

sweetly mixed in with the charm of childhood

we had our special place

where we would drive every day without fail

and park

and kiss

and remove our underwear

and you would hold me down

it was all about exploration

and learning

i knew your body better than anyone else's

except for mine

the sky was so damn huge

not looming overhead like a badly conceived ceiling

it was open

for us

the day held endless possibilities

how could life be boring with someone to share it with?

you told me you loved me

sometimes we mistake strong feelings for love

i knew you didn't really love me

and that i didn't really love you

but i didn't care

we were connected

and that was all

melodrama came easily to us

we fought passionately and cheerfully

it was our hobby

quite possibly the only thing we had in common

besides each other

and sex

the world wasn't happier

the birds didn't sing more sweetly

the sun didn't shine more brightly

the colors didn't become more vivid

but the sky was bigger

we used each other to grow up

we needed each other

we clung to each other

and carelessly devoured the learning we needed from each other

i thought i needed you


it had something to do with love

but i was wrong

you taught me

and that was all i needed.

It ain't no iambic pentameter but it makes me feel better.

2:25 p.m. - 2003-07-23


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