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rue-madame's Diaryland Diary


The grabby hands grab all they can

Fred called today from Paris and it turns out he will be here end of this week! Actually, he will be in San Francisco most of the time, but is planning to head this way for a visit. I canít believe I havenít seen him in 3 months--I used to see him at least 3 times a week in Paris, and we would regularly have hot chocolate together at Deux Magots or dinner at Le Pied de Fouet.

You know, everyone was supernegative when I moved to Los Angeles, but now they are all planning vacations around me! A few weeks ago, I had the Mod couple in town (but they were pretty supportive of the move.) Then last weekend Mr. Baloney first name Tony was here. Fred arrives the 25th of this month, and then some other friends are spending Presidentsí Day (February) over here. Makes me realize I really should have held out for a 2 bedroom place so that I would have space to house people. Lucky for me, thereís a halfway decent motel three blocks away on Beverly, and the coffee shop in the lobby usually has one or two celebrities hanging out. Thatís where I saw Elijah Wood.

I am so sick of being sick. Although I no longer feel achy or feverish, I still have a stuffed up nose and pinchy lungs and generally do not feel like my usual dervish-of-energy self. «a suffit.

Today is a holiday and Iím so irritated that the mail is not being delivered. I am waiting for a check and would really love for it to surface in my letter box. Lately Iíve taken to saying, ďIím gonna get x when I get paidĒ or ďWhen I get paid, Iím so going to get x!Ē (this is really more like it, sadly. I really do talk like a Californian.) Itís gotten to the point where Terence has started making fun of me and has begun compiling a list of everything Iím supposedly going to get. The list is right now three post-its long (in tiny writing) and Iím sure that if I were to sit down and estimate the cost of every item, it would total above and beyond the check amount. Oh well. The good news is that the list is enabling me to realize not only how materialistic and insane I am, but how crazily the listís items need to be prioritized! Example: new contact lenses are clearly more important than prescription sunglasses but somehow contacts are way at the bottom of post-it number two, where prescription sunglasses are near the top of post-it one. Some items are no-brainers in the priority department, and those are the things related to grooming: an almost complete dip into a vat of wax, a facial, a haircut, a mani/pedi combo and a massage. Those are the first calls Iím going to make when I get my grabby hands on payment.

4:12 p.m. - 2002-01-21



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