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Thursday, February 10, 2005
My coach driver thinks I'm gay. Not that it's uncommon, but still. He picked up his friend on the way, and the guy talked about 'faggot clubs'. The driver corrected him: 'mate, they're called gay clubs'. Fair enough I thought.
Inside, he pulls me over: 'Fran, I'm sorry about what he was saying. He didn't know'. I stood confused for a minute, then accepted the odd apology and sat down and realised what he meant. I don't really mind, but I still think it's bizarre to assume something like that.
Marcia (over on the linkbar) is about a two people chain away from me. My anonymity is about as effective as a window. Don't care that much, I suppose. Isn't it the secret dream for someone to find you out?
Which reminds me, the reason 'Educating Hercules' has disappeared is because A) it got boring and B) she started posting pictures of her kid. I don't want to know what he looks like. In my mind is where he should've stayed, however I wanted him. The point is, I couldn't care less now.
What else? I've been working. Developing study habits that would disgust me if I met myself. Too much work gets done.
What makes me happy is pictures of happiness. Photos, images, drawings. Anything.
Valentine's day, of course, is around the corner of the weekend. What shall we do? Suggestions? It's easier to make a not-to-do list, of course. But I want it to be nice, more than most of what I've ever wanted. I've never had a Valentine's day before. I know what I want secretly though. I want her all to myself, all day, and I want her to want me more than that. If I can smell the lust in her eyes, and if she crawls up the bed looking ferocious, only to kiss my stomach. Then I'll be happy. (I wanted a girlfriend so bad for so many years, and I have one now.)
Last night's dreams were fucked up. I remember getting money for nothing, and then my dog attacking someone who I then pummelled. Two men tried to deceptively steal the money.
My eyes are about to retire. I hope I have time for you over the next few days.
