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2002-01-21 - 1:43 a.m.|I like Sundays. My friend is banged up but okay. Turns out her wreck was caused by one of those people who just drives straight with their blinker on for no reason. She believed the guy and turned in front of him. Friday night I saw a giant red neon sign for "Shell" on which the "S" was burnt out. It looked so great out there plastered on the roof of the convenience store. Too bad the "H" (I don't know why I'm putting the letters in quotes) wasn't capitalized. That would have been capital. The other night I dreamed I was in Civil War times and there were explosions in the basement. This man who seemed to be in charge told me they were from electrical wiring under the house getting wet. I told him electricity must have just been invented. Then everyone had to come out of the bathroom in groups, it was a big bathroom and opened onto a big lawn, and have their picture made, which required standing still for a long time because it was Civil War times. My parents and I were hiding cause we didn't want our picture taken. I don't like having my picture made, my mother was too stoned, and my dad had to practice his splits. He had on a blue inside out polo shirt that had a logo of St Marys United Methodist on it. My grandmother (maternal) walked through wearing too much eyeshadow and looking pissed off. My dad asked me what I thought he should charge per massage for Wayne if he sold 10 massages. I told him $40 each and he said, I thought they should be about the price of lunch. $20. That's how we worked it out. I woke up and several hours later I learned he has a client named Wayne. Did he tell me that before and I forgot? Oh, and I found out today that some people have a balloon fetish. Look it up online. I never thought about that one before. I had heard of many of the others but I did not get an expert rating on the multiple guess quiz they had on this particular site. I have finally accepted that I live in the room I sleep in and started to fix it up. The carpet is clean, the $9000 stereo (Fox worthily) is in, and the bed is in the center of the room for ultimate TV watching pleasure. Ate Samoas (yes, its girl scout cookie time) for supper while watching Seinfeld rerun. One thing I miss about my old life (one thing?) is platonic friends who would lay up in the bed with you and be sorry watching TV. Sometimes the best TV in the house just happened to be in a room with just a bed for lounging. I really miss it more than watching TV in bed with a lover. They're better for sitting on the couch with. I think its cause you think of the actual act of sleeping when you lie down next to someone you share a bed with night after night. But that's not the act I think of, you argue. You don't remember what its like to sleep next to someone, you nun. That's Mother Superior to you. Mais si, I remember that realistically you spend most of your time with this person sleeping. Cause you have to spend the day making your living so you can afford to come home and go to sleep next to them. Watching TV in bed with friends just nakes you feel decadent. Like getting away with stuff on Sundays.
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