july . one . nineteen ninety nine off to california for a visit with the gang. -- july . five . nineteen ninety nine we had a really nice time with our friends and family. non stop activity including karaoke, movies, illegal substances, hair cuts, baby chasing, bowling, eating, eating, eating, and a nice mischievous caper that i don't want to write about until i get the pictures back. weeeeeee! vacation snippet one: thursday night we went to a hotel bar to see dr. love, one of my oldest and bestest friends of ten years or so, compete in the finals of a karaoke competition. dr. love has been delivering a fine assortment of throaty musical numbers to the delight of many a crowd. i've always wanted to go see him perform but crap (read: life) kept getting in the way. now, i must tell you that dr. love is not your average amateur crooner. he has shoulder length hair, a nice arrangement of facial hair, and he's extremely...large. he's a fat guy, but a fat guy with class, a fat guy extraordinare! he carries himself with 'tude and it works...hard core. and to top off this undeniably head turning persona, dr. love has a speaking voice that melts thighs within a five mile radius. one of those barry white mother fuckers i expected him to be passable at the karaoke. i figured he'd pull it off simply because he's dr. love, but i was absolutely blown away! dr. love is a ROCK STAR. he struts and works it and he can sing! i'm not talking about getting through the song, but actual singing, with panache. the crowd loved him, paul and i screamed our throats raw. he made it through the first round, but was ultimately robbed in the end by an over-emotive big breasted shreiker, who was chosen, i suspect, because the judges wanted to see her and her lesbian lover share a celebratory kiss. vacation snippet two: i was lucky enough to spend a lot of time with my best girl friend and her 16 month old boy. i've never had a lot of girlfriends in my life, i'm not sure why...it just turned out that most of my friends have always been boys. but i met "the shiny one" in graphic design school. she realized half way through school that graphic design gave her pains so she quit. she jokes that, including student loans and supplies, i'm the most expensive friend she's ever had. i love the shiny one. she's energetic and fun and smart and REAL. if i wasn't head over heels in love with my hubby, i'd want to marry her. and the kid is lit from within, having everything to do with her influence...she makes me glow too. she and her sweet husband are moving to southern california soon, so i'm glad we got in some time together before the visits become more difficult to navigate. one thing i noticed while we were with the ankle-biter in public is how strangers are almost intrusive in their need to tell the shiny one how to raise her child. she says it happens all the time and now that i'm thinking about it, i've seen it happen to other friends. one of the beautiful things about the shiny one's mothering is that she's totally laid back about playing, and messes and things. she let's the kid explore and get dirty...i mean, she's careful with him and never let's him get into trouble, but she gives him the space he needs to explore his world. it's nice to watch. strangers, on the other hand, are paranoid to the extreme and will give scolding looks or out and out criticism if they disapprove of the kid's activities. i'm embarrassed to say that i have probably given a dirty look or two to parents i've observed, i think most people have. never again. vacation snippet three: the caper. (to be added later) the plane ride back was exactly the kind of nightmare situation that standup comics have commented on for the last 40 years. hot, crowded, babies screaming...the only thing missing was having to sit next to the fat lady, because i AM the fat lady so the story the guy sitting next to ME has to tell is even more clichéd. it was an astonishingly perfect trip but, as always, it's nice to be home, which made me realize how much seattle is really my home now. i like that feeling, but there was a truly awkward moment after coming home, when i sat on our couch, kicked off my shoes and relaxed...i wanted to call my friends to tell them i was home, but i realized that i had no one in seattle to call. -- july . eight . nineteen . ninety nine vacation snippet three: the caper, continued. under the cover of darkness, seven troopers with a lust for mischief and more than their share of moxie take to the streets to leave their mark on a society that can never hope to contain them... before   during   after mwaaaaaaaaaahaaaaaaaaaahaaaaaaaaaaaaahaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa! -- monday . july . twelve . nineteen ninety nine i wore my new tiara to work. i haven't worn it in public before, and i must say i had a ball. i don't know why, but for some reason the thought of a fat, pierced wage slave wearing a tiara cracks me up. but it looks great! and i love the reactions i get. people seem to dig it and they walk away saying " *I* need a tiara!" however, wearing a tiara is, as previously unreported by the fda, an addictive ritual. i had to force myself not to wear it the day after, and the day after that. i'm going to have to institute some kind of rationing system or this little accessory is going to turn into some kind of obsession. and yes, i'm wearing in right now. i worked the shift with mr. eye contact (quoted as saying "i don't know a lot of people who could get away with a tiara, but for some reason, it works for you.") who has finally started to take a look around him and realize that his buddy, the man, isn't as nice as he seems. apparently he started hearing about some of the crap the man has pulled in the last few weeks: by making her miserable everyday, the man finally pushed an employee at one of the other stores (of course female) to quit. before her two weeks were up, he told her to leave. upon her return to the store to rent some movies, she found a note on her account saying she was not allowed to have free rentals anymore. this is the first time i've heard of this happening. there are ex-employees that rent for free that haven't worked for the stores in years. i guess this story coupled with some other choice incidents prompted mr. eye contact to quit. he already found another job, so he's only been working one shift a week and finally asked himself "what's the point"? i admire him for that, actually. it marks a palpable difference from "the charmer", another of my co-empoyees. the charmer has been there for a year or so and is the one who trained me. he's super nice and very funny. i enjoy hanging out with him and he's one of the first people i've met in seattle that made me feel at home. but in terms of fellow employee loyalty, he wavers. he and nice chick have been friends for a long time and when the video business crap started to fall on her, he finally took some of the injustice seriously. up till then, he's been passive and tolerant of the big boys. of course, he can afford to take it all in stride because, as he will admit, none of the crap ever effects him personally...not a coincidence that he has a penis. in contrast, mr. eye contact was also reaping the benefits of the trouser snake but finally decided that he didn't want to be a friend to the asses that are screwing the rest of the employees. as for mr. obsessive-compulsive, we had a long talk the other day, partly about his infamous "personal problems". it was a relief to have a relatively normal conversation with him, and i've felt more comfortable with him ever since. in addition, he FINALLY talked to the grand pubah about my raise. apparently, the pubah told mr. o/c that he has some "issues" with me. it took me 20 minutes to get mr. o/c to tell me what the issues were, and i don't think he told me the whole story. essentially, the pubah said that when he saw me working (which was one time, for ten minutes, two months ago), instead of leading a customer to a film, i pointed to where the film was. that's it. mr. o/c also made a murmur or two about "well, i guess you and the man have had some problems?" so i'm sure that the man has had his tongue in the pubah's ear about me. nice. but mr. o/c claims to have defended me and said that i should expect to see a raise on my next pay check. right. - unrelated customer transaction: two female customers deciding what to rent, turn to me and ask: what should we get? me: what are you in the mood for? girl 1: some thing for girls that a guy wouldn't want to watch. they continue to browse as i rattle off title after title, all of which they've seen. so i said: how about something older like "the philadelphia story" or "paris when it sizzles"? girl 1: i like audrey hepburn! girl 2: (scrunching her face and feigning nausea) i won't watch anything black and white. me: um. "paris when it sizzles" is in color. girl 2: (gaping, slack jawed silence.) me: (muttering to myself) perhaps you would enjoy the "home alone" series. then they rented "home fries". kill me. -- tuesday . july . thirteen . nineteen ninety nine seven (7) rejections from prospective literary agents to date. i sent the full manuscript to the one agent who asked for it, and there's still one query letter yet to be answered. of course, my perverse brain is now thinking "what's wrong with this guy that he wants to see my book? he's so desperate that he wants to see a book that seven (7) other agents have turned down?" -- wednesday . july . fourteen . nineteen ninety nine a very old gentleman with a cane, wearing a crisp white sweatshirt with the word "america" elaborately displayed across his chest and a pin that said "veteran", crept into the store today. he made his way through the store, chose his flick, and stepped up to the counter. he presented me with his video, which turned out to be a hard core porn film focused primarily on facial ejaculations. aaaaaah, america. -- friday . july . sixteen . nineteen ninety nine overheard at the supermarket parking lot last night: girl: they did NOT find a naked dead man with his penis in a whale's spout. guy: i didn't SAY they found his penis in the spout, i said.... and they walked out of hearing range. monday . july . nineteen . nineteen ninety nine got my final rejection from the last agent i sent a query letter to. so now, i wait for the one who actually wanted to read it to let me know what he thought. i'm kind of relieved, in a way. at least i'm not waiting for rejection letters anymore. i got to talking with one of our regular customers yesterday, who is also trying to find an agent. i don't talk to many people about my writing, but the pure joy of speaking to another creative person (probably stemming from the fact that i have no friends) prompted me to tell him a little about the book i wrote. it was nice to have the feedback from an objective person. the thing is, i have looked at what i've written for so long that it doesn't sparkle to me anymore. but in talking to this guy yesterday, i got a renewed excitement about the thing. i look forward to seeing what happens next. -- tuesday . july . twenty . nineteen ninety nine while eating some cookies that paul brought home i suddenly noticed the packaging which reads: "mother's cookies" and "striped shortbread" and, my favorite "chocolat-eee!" ok. now, they're not called "chocolate stripped short bread" or "short bread with chocolate stripes". it says "striped shortbread" on one side of the package, and "chocolat-eee!" on the other. this is disturbing. -- for a week now i've been waiting for my mother to send me The Mix. that fabu blend of chex and peanuts and sesame sticks and pretzels and beef jerky and stuff that is MIXed together in the sink with some kind of magic worcestershire sauce and baked in the oven. it's a pain in the ass to make, but my mom used to make it during my childhood summers. i can still hear her yelling at my sister and i: "don't pick out the beef jerky!!!!!" it's good stuff, and there's no way i'm making it, so i asked her to whip some up and send it to me and, by god, she did it! but it took forever to arrive. my dad emailed me to see if i had gotten it yet and i responded thusly: it isn't here. not yet. and i run my fat ass to the mail box everyday. sometimes, i even think i can smell it down there, but time and again my dreams are smashed into pieces so tiny they break like little balls of mercury...you know how mercury breaks up into little balls that break into even smaller balls and then into microscopic dust particles that could poison you if you ingest any of it? that's how small and dangerous the pieces of my dreams become every time i go to the mail box and am confronted with the empty space where i imagine the mix might someday reside. "where is it?" i cry. "for the love of god, where is the tasty-snack? the crunchy-yum? the MANNA FROM HEAVEN that my mom mixes in her sparkly clean sink???? oh sure, it may not have enough beef jerky in it, but beef jerky is EXPENSIVE and ours are troubled times. i simply must have that mix!!" and i retreat to my home, and i sit in the dark. i moan a little to myself. the way that old people moan in the emergency room waiting area. and then one perfectly round, salty tear slowly makes its trail down my depressed yet utterly gorgeous face. these are the darkest moments. the hope of tomorrow's mail delivery shines like a beacon on a vast, dark ocean surface. i ride the waves, and wait. - me p.s. i like to tell stories. -- i received my manuscript back from the agent who had requested to see it. he doesn't want to take me on as a client (poopie!), but he said (and i quote): "i have no doubt that you'll sell this, but..." essentially, because it's a small gift book, it's not worth his time to pursue it. i.e. he won't be making the long green, so why bother? which i can understand, but that leaves me standing here with my, um, book in my hand....as it were. so now i guess i send it to a butt load of publishers that have printed other books of the same style. -- on sunday, paul and i went to the fremont market on our maiden voyage to sell my shrinky-dink crafts. we did ok. we didn't make any serious semolians but we did score a little cashy-cash. i learned a lot too. i think the market is just too nuts and berries for my stuff. everybody is selling incense and tie-dye when all i can offer is INCENSE and brightly colored riot grrrl plastic. i'm gonna start scoping out some more appropriate stores that can sell my stuff for me so i don't have to sit for eight hours listening to bongos and smelling a mix of veggie curry and b.o. and on a totally unrelated note, i've come to a realization that it is time that ernest borgnine got his due. no one in the world is more ernest borgnine than him...he's the borgniniest and he deserves some god damned respect. --- monday . july . twenty five . nineteen ninety nine all weekend one of the local radio stations has been running a promo for the monday morning news. every fifteen minutes. aaaaallll weekend. it was a teaser that said "and how does buying a starbuck's blueberry muffin save a life? the answer monday." this killed my soul to the extent that i had to turn off the radio all together. and this morning, while waiting for a weather report, i heard the actual spot. it was about an arthritic panda bear at the zoo...who eats starbuck's blueberry muffins. i'm not sure why they were saying that BUYING a muffin could save a life, but the point is that they were essentially advertising the coffee conglomerate four times an hour for 72 hours straight. and today after work i caught a glimpse of a tv news teaser that was about one big breasted teen actress or another making a personal appearance...i'm not even sure that it was even in seattle. ok, i'm not an idiot. i realize that real news is dead, but i am absolutely not listening, watching or reading any kind of news ever, every again. i don't care how many kennedy's crash into oceans. you can't make me. no. -- i've decided that i wanted to make the man see me as an actual person instead of as a liability or adversary. i figure if i force him to really see me, it won't be quite so easy to shit on me. today he was in the store for a few hours and we actually had a HUMAN CONVERSATION! paul and i recently watched a documentary called "heavy metal parking lot", which can't really be explained adequately, but i recommended it to the man. i told him that "not a lot of people would appreciate this, but i think you'd really like it." later on, he actually started talking to me about another movie he thought i'd like. he stammered a bit, and he was standing about as far away from me as he could, but he was nice! and funny! and not in that retarded aping way he has. it was as close to a normal conversation as i've ever had with him. it brings home the point that one of the man's main problems is his insecurity/akwardness in dealing with interpersonal communication. while he was describing the movie to me, i realized how SHY he really is. without all of the "i am a big shot and you are a peon" armor he carries around, i actually enjoyed him. of course, i doubt there's any money in the bank with him...nice today, screw you tomorrow...but it was refreshing to have a glimpse into the person he could be, if he let himself. --- tuesday . july . twenty seven . nineteen ninety nine i worked with a new woman they hired as a floater the other night...for now we'll call her "the quiet one". she's pretty nice and we had a decent time working together. she's still got her new-employee-nervousness but she's good at the job. for some reason i was in hyper drive that night. i guess it was that i really, really did not want to be there, combined with the fact that i was feeling kinda sassy. (my new favorite thing to say to customers who have minuscule late fees: "how can you LIVE with yourself?!?") so the night flew by and before she ended her shift, the quiet one and i made tentative plans to go to a movie at some point. the next day paul and i stopped at one of the other stores to rent some video games. i had never been to that branch before and it turns out that the quiet one was working. she seemed genuinely glad to see me and it made me feel welcomed. i introduced myself to the rest of the crew and set up an employee account on their system. they asked me what i wanted my quick-access nickname to be, and before i could say anything, the quiet one said "how about 'the pushy girl'?" i paused and said "pushy?" "assertive? aggressive?" she said. now, she said it with a smile, but it's been stuck in my gut ever since. i'm the first to admit that i am a BIG WOMAN, literally and figuratively. i make noise and take up space. but this is a person who has spent five hours with me and she's already picked three labels, usually used to castrate female power, and she felt the need to use them in front of people i had just met. i have to believe that this was some kind of insecurity on her part. the only labels i had for her at that point were "quiet", "smart" and "nice". i was talking to paul about it last night and he said "do you see what's happened? men don't have to work so hard at keeping women down anymore because we've managed to get you guys to do it to each other." zoinks. i work really hard at not being afraid of other women. i get these voices in my head of distrust and jealousy, but i force myself to let it go and experience women with joy and wonder (as sappy as it may sound.) but i feel this deepening sorrow because i don't know how to influence other chickie-babies to open up and start trusting each other. nothing's going to change unless we do.