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The universe sends me mixed messages. I will be in Pittsburgh soon, and I will graduate in two months. Customers said nice things about me. I was tipped by a gentleman for whom I shucked oysters. I'd never been tipped for anything before. And I shucked oysters again for a beautiful woman. Her eyes and hair are dark. I think she has been with a different man every time I have seen her. I imagine that she is a courtesan, or at least skilled at convincing others to buy her oysters and strange fruits and good cheeses. She tipped me only with her beauty, but when I think of her, she presses her gentleman friend to give me something, and looks at him with disdain and turns away until he gives me more. I found a baby crab in one of the shells I pried open. It was tiny and soft and still moving. I kept the oyster and let the crab stay. I hope to find it alive when I get back tomorrow. You should know that JJ and I recently acknowledged one another as formidable opponents, and have come to respect, or more playfully disrespect, one another as a result. She was testing every cart in the store today, rolling them to the door , ensuring that the lock on the wheel did what it is meant to do when she pushed it past the threshold. I called her Sisyphus and threatened to throw things at her all day while she toiled. I threw banana bread at her mouth, and then I gave her a small and black thing I didn't quite recognize but that was in the place where a heart should have been in a soup cup, and a parasite I named for her, and I threw my glove, rubber, at her. She picked it up, accepting the challenge. There is a scene in Richard II in which everyone throws down their gauntlet at everyone else. One character must even borrow someone's glove so that he can return a third challenge to him. We only had one glove to spare, but that is secretly what happened. And I have good friends. I am in a bit of trouble, and Parker is helping me out of it, yet again. Sometimes I forget how good she is. But, there is that trouble. I am working more than I should. I am exhausted and my back is screaming, and I am so, so very poor. I will graduate soon, and things will get better, if they will not be solved. And I have a job, and I know when I will be paid next, even if I know that it will not be enough. I am not sure what sort of day today was, but it was long, and I want my bed more than I want anyone for whom I've ever opened an oyster. May this never be true again.
Heliocentrism.
Feb. 16th, 2006 12:49 pmThe original plan had been to spend the night in one of my university's Mac labs. I feel as if I had, although in reality I watched television while gathering information on my own computer and shared my bed with Parker so that she wouldn't have to sleep on the sofa, intending to wake up early and finish the project in the morning. I am not sure when the bed, and every inch of space and blanket in it, became conceptually mine, but I am glad that it has finally happened. The difficulties of sleeping next to Parker were once strangely charming. I am also glad that this is no longer the case. Class begins in fifteen minutes, and, despite the inevitable campus-wide server crash that left me unable to do anything for my first hour here, my project is sprawling and all but printed.
The beer and porn party, much like all of us in attendance, was simultaneously a great failure and a terrible success. Not many people came, which was neither surprising nor necessarily bad, although I'd bought a bit too much of everything, considering. Well. The beer will be consumed, and the porn, god damn it, will be watched by Sunday. And I had quite a lot of fun. Brandon and I agreed that he and I should engage in a threesome with really any one of his ladyfriends. I learned that Kami Andrews is absolutely brilliant, far better than I'd even expected her to be, and that seventies porn remains quite bad, even when it hints at being amputee fetish porn and involves complex furniture that normally would be more than enough to hold my interest. JJ and I made a pact to never, as long as we live, taste butt toys. Robert told me that I make anal sound cute, and Parker voiced her displeasure at being left out of the pact. My favourite quotes of the evening included the extremely popular, "Breathing is for pussies," "Rejected, the horny gardener sulks and fantasizes," and, "I thought I told you to shut up. Here. Choke on your own strap-on."
The beer and porn party, much like all of us in attendance, was simultaneously a great failure and a terrible success. Not many people came, which was neither surprising nor necessarily bad, although I'd bought a bit too much of everything, considering. Well. The beer will be consumed, and the porn, god damn it, will be watched by Sunday. And I had quite a lot of fun. Brandon and I agreed that he and I should engage in a threesome with really any one of his ladyfriends. I learned that Kami Andrews is absolutely brilliant, far better than I'd even expected her to be, and that seventies porn remains quite bad, even when it hints at being amputee fetish porn and involves complex furniture that normally would be more than enough to hold my interest. JJ and I made a pact to never, as long as we live, taste butt toys. Robert told me that I make anal sound cute, and Parker voiced her displeasure at being left out of the pact. My favourite quotes of the evening included the extremely popular, "Breathing is for pussies," "Rejected, the horny gardener sulks and fantasizes," and, "I thought I told you to shut up. Here. Choke on your own strap-on."
