In the BlueBright

Monday, Mar. 25, 2002 ~ 5:25 PM

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I just wanna show you the way that I feel.

(wiping hands) All right, so this is it. As I am not getting any call-backs and my un-employment is running out, I am getting a job. I am getting a job in Connecticut and that means that I will rarely be able to audition. This makes me a little depressed. My only consolation is that my friends will be home for the summer and we�ll be able to hang out more often. It just frustrates me that it will be veryvery difficult to do what I love.

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So... I�m still being stalked. I know, I know� I�m surprised too. I�d been avoiding ArmyBoy for nearly 3 weeks so I thought that he�d gotten the picture. Anyway, I got a little sloppy Saturday while checking my email and didn�t hide as well as I normally do. All of sudden this IM pops up �HI. WHERE ARE YOU? I MISS YOU. I�VE BEEN LOOKING FOR YOU.� I did the only thing that I could think of. Turn off the computer and seriously think about moving to Guam. Hmm, or maybe just Australia. I�ve been employing my stealth devices ever since. Now, I love me; but I just don�t think that�s it�s possible to really love me online. You have to experience the whole handful of high maintenance histrionics in person. You have to be within slapping distance to actually get a handle of what I�m all about. And Egyptian ArmyBoy will never have that chance. (crossing fingers)

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I am going to share something now. (inhales hugely) (changes mind and exhales) (inhales again) (hurriedly) Hair with the sun tangled in it will cause me to stop dead in my tracks nine times out of ten. The less domesticated the hair, the greater the chance for motor function break down.

Saturday, the City was beautiful. Cold and windy� but so bluebright. I was distracting myself with people watching while waiting for Trish. Usually, I make up little stories to myself about the people I�m watching: where they�re going to/coming from, their dreams, their relationships� it�s neat to be able to look at someone�s shoes and make up an entire life for them.

This woman passed me, 26ish artsy-fartsy, sunglasses, comfortable jeans, a scarf longer than she was tall, slim, no gloves, messenger bag, ass kicking but still sort of girlie shoes� a red head. Sigh. A red head. Wavy and thick and kite-like behind her. I wanted to be in her hair, and I was oh so jealous of the sun. The way it had woven itself in there, the way this woman was there before me like a beautiful tapestry that I just wanted to wrap myself up in. I couldn�t make up a story for her. I couldn�t even conceive that she would exist on any other plane besides this one moment as she passed. My cell phone rang. Once. I couldn�t hear it. I couldn�t move. I watched her as she walked south on Museum Mile and took a left onto 79th street. Twice. It was Trish. She was waiting for me in the lobby. I looked at a lot of art on Saturday, but nothing, nothing like the tapestry in the 12:30 bluebright near the South fountain.

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Right Foot In < < < < < < < < < > > > > > > > > > Right Foot Out

Now Shake it all about!

Last 5 Entries

How Rude! - Wednesday, Sept. 22, 2004 - 12:16 PM

One small step but no giant leap. - Tuesday, Sept. 30, 2003 - 11:17 AM

Where's George? - Thursday, Sept. 25, 2003 - 12:48 PM

Gypsy - Wednesday, Sept. 24, 2003 - 8:44 AM

I'm no Artemis. - Wednesday, Aug. 13, 2003 - 8:19 AM

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