contours provocations
journal - 2001-0425 - wed 2000
Praise the goddess!; Aftertaste; Personal Comments; Stuffed Toys; "Boot Camp" Music; Exceptional Taste

Today was not quite as emotionally messy as yesterday. Some of the neuroses have slipped out the door to harass another victim. Life does not appear as grim. Praise the goddess!


Lunch was at the Japanese restaurant. Alas, the food is not as good as it was initially. Undercooked. And the seasoning leaves a yucky aftertaste that stays with me for hours. Very tiresome. Even tonight after a dinner out, the aftertaste wants to sneak back. And the biggest drawback is that the attractive server is not around.
A friend and I had our weekly din din this evening. Far more enjoyable than a week ago. Last week's place was way too noisy to hold a decent conversation. But tonight, the aural ambiance was much better. And the conversation was more personal and intriguing, and in a way, unexpected.

One of my almost absolute cardinal rules is not to ask overly personal questions or to make overly personal comments. I figure if someone wants to tell me something, they will in due time as happened this evening. Of course, I recognize the danger that this implies that I'm not really interested in the individual. It also means that I don't care to be asked such questions or have such comments made to me.

My mother and some of her friends have a very unpleasant habit of doing this. At Christmas, her neighbor came in, looked at me and said, "Gee! We all get old!" Many a terse rejoinder crossed my mind.


On the way home from dinner, I stopped at BP for petrol. Last time there, I noticed they were selling stuffed toys that were replicates of endangered species. At that time, I bought the cheetah and the giant panda for 99 cents each. (Where the hell is the cents symbol on my keyboard?) Tonight I grabbed the asian elephant and the mountain gorilla for the same price. Now all I'm missing is a spider. These are wonderful little creatures. They have such a bemused look. Now, I just hope the cats don't get jealous.
Another episode of "Boot Camp" is over. A combination of endurance and connivance. I am almost certain that the producers picked a group knowing that some would not survive. If it were all alpha males, it would not be as interesting. Hmmmm! On the other hand, I never thought of Richard Hatch of "Survivor" as being the alpha male type. Somewhere I read that there was another gay participant, but I've never seen anything to indicate who.

Someone really needs to work on the music these shows use. I was thinking that the music in the "Dismissal Hill" segment of "Boot Camp" reminded me of that in the Starchild part of "2001." Orotund, florid, overblown as though angels were going to swoop down and escort the vanquished to paradise.


I've gotten some really great e-mails from a couple of other journal writers about how much they enjoy my humble effort. My, oh so modest, response is to say, "You have exceptional taste!"

PAX!

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