From the Fucking Cartier Pen, from 3:31-4:16 pm:
I was on Wikipedia the other night, and found out that Picture This! (a film company specializing in gay coming-of-age films) had gone out of business at the end of last year. Many of the "Dan Box" movies were put out by them. Hmmm...he died in March of last year; maybe he single-handedly kept them in business. Just a thought.
I have about 2 1/2 hours to go in my shift, and it has been quite a while since the Fucking Cartier Pen has been used for anything besides crosswords. Work has been like a tomb today; with the "Shun Baton" passed to Problem Coworker #2, not a lot is being said. And the book I have here is failing to hold my interest. So I am journaling for my life.
Justin still doesn't get it. I turned on my cell phone last night to find another "What's Up" text message. I ignored it, just like I ignored all the others. Bu he is getting a little more brazen. I was tabbing through the missed calls on my Caller ID when his name and number came up. He should thank his lucky stars that I wasn't home when he called.
I decided to be brave and call Mike on my lunch break; we are meeting for dinner again on Saturday night. He is coming to the office to come get me, which is going to be interesting, since no one at work knows he even exists. I am sure that come Monday, the rumors will be flying, as untrue as they are. They don't need to know my business, and we're just friends.
While I'm being brave, maybe I'll call Bob for bingo next Wednesday.
I am also meeting Bette and my father for dinner on Sunday. It is--where else?--at PF Chang's. I had offered to drive into Arlington, but they absolutely insisted on going to Tysons. If you noticed recently, on my days off, I go walking at either Fair Oaks or Dulles Town Center. The last place I want to be is at Tysons Corner on my day off. Plus, I really don't like PF Chang's. I work near there, so I ate too many meals there over the years. I wish they had a different favorite restaurant.
I still want to order the complete Instinct back issue collection, but I really want to listen to Cleo and Julie when they arrive. Diane said I could have them delivered to her house. I might do that.
Gee, kittens; with the blister on my knuckle, I realize that when I have gone three days without an entry, I should not pick up the Fucking Cartier Pen. I wonder if I would have been more comfortable using the new Mont Blanc Pen.
I had this feeling that Julie would want me to go to have all-you-can-eat chicken whatever tonight, so I decided to go to Subway, and then get some groceries at Target before coming home. They didn't go there, but I am better for it. One of the books that I had ordered more than a month ago finally arrived, and I decided to walk to the mailbox to drop off the bill. Cleo decided to come with me; he claimed it was for security reasons. But I think he wanted to get away from Julie and Elaine while they were watching "Bones". I also cooked up some pudding for tomorrow. I had not sat down in about an hour and a half before I finally landed here on the sofa to do this blog entry.
Justin texted me yet again, about how he might have a new job. While I was out with Cleo, he apparently tried to call me at home again. He has not left me any messages, though. It is out of character for me, but I am essentially giving him a taste of his medicine. After all the crap he inflicted on me, I feel somewhat justified.
I still am weighing the ordering of the magazines; this has been going on for about three weeks now. On the one hand, it is a lot of money, but on the other hand, someone once told me, "I don't want to be known as the richest person in the cemetery." So I still don't know.
Eric Out.
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