Flushing my Monday down the drain

Today at 10:50 a.m. in front of a venerable financial institution of DC, while having coffee with famous Paul F., I had my flush of the month like your next door woman going through menopause. It is a very random event that happens every month or so: I am usually having a normal conversation and suddenly a few pearls of sweat appeared on my forehead, innocent early signs of a torrential rainfall to come. It is time for my own f**ed up meteorological event, my little tropical storm, my four million sweat glands monthly parade. Typically when the first pearl of sweat reach my nose, I give up the psychological fight (no more trying to relax or think of Antarctica… I just let it go) and then, only then, it really starts: the Niagara falls, Les Grandes Eaux de Versailles, the Indian Monsoon. Two seconds later my shirt is drenched, my face is dripping and glowing, and a cool, wet mist has blanketed everybody around me. Paul Fisher kindly commented that “[I] look preoccupied” and it continued for long minutes until complete dehydration and soon my tears were mixed with my gland-induced waterfall while my blue mascara and eye shadow were adding some color to the sad river running over my face. How are you supposed to justify yourself: “don’t worry, I am just evacuating some unnecessary accumulated water?”, I just try to appear as if I don't notice. Among horrible flushing memories from this year, I remember a chic gallery opening with Alex A. in which someone asked me “is it raining outside ?” and a Mercury Grill waiter offering me a towel. It does look strange and while I was emotionally shaking Paul F.’s hand with my sweaty palm after this very muggy coffee break, I knew that he would forever think of me as a very weird nervous guy, rather scary actually. Me among the other necrophiliac homosexuals.

Friendster is getting on my nerves badly. I am thinking to move my blog to blogspot or blogster. I also think of joining Alex S. and moving my personal profile to enemyster.com. I already had difficulties to digest the constant need to delete my cookies to access my blog interface, the update e-mail messages problem that threatened my virtual friendships, the fact that only horny nympho “fakesters” contact me these days but now I am just frustrated that comments are limited to friendster members as I’d like my brother to share his thoughts with my (few) readers (today he tried to find the bride on the Gs's wedding pictures...he couldn't ...neither did I and I thought about it for a long time too).

I take this mondayish opportunity Pete R. (who suggest that I eat eggs the following morning) and Frenchbenj for offering me advices on how to get hammered properly. Thank Ben, a young Jim S. on the block for his genuine interest and inform my entourage publicly that I will be having a beer with Kevin W. on the 1783 patio tonight.

Comments

[Batya]

um you should start your thing on livejournal. www.livejournal.com you can have public entries, friends only entries, and even make little groups to filter out ppl when you only want certain ppl reading your entries. its fun over there ive been doing it for years!