Wednesday, December 17, 2003

After I treated the graduation girl to a conversationally morbid and socially awkward steak dinner we went downtown to have a final drink or two.  As I was getting in my Durango, I thought, I might as well try to kiss her now even though I know she's not going to go for it.  When the doors were closed I looked over at her and said, "would it freak you out if I tried to kiss you now?" "Yes, it definitely would," the graduation girl said.  7:53:39 PM    comment []

I went with the graduation girl to outback steakhouse.  I ordered the prime rib medium rare.  I used to always get steaks well done because I thought it was too weird and gross to eat something that looked like what it was: sliced, bloody muscle.  But as I've gotten older I noticed that the whole point of eating steaks is to enjoy sliced bloody muscle.   When my prime rib arrived it was a giant plate of sliced bloody muscle with nodules of fat attached here and there.  Well, here goes, I thought.  I started cutting up the bloody muscle into small pieces and putting it in my mouth.  The graduation girl told me about her job.  She's a cryto something technologist at a children's hospital.  She gets flesh samples from sick children and puts them in an incubator and grows them for three days.   When the sick child's flesh sample has grown for three days she looks at it under a microscope.  The graduation girl sees the sick child's flesh sample magnified one hundred thousand times.  Because the graduation girl graduated from college she can sometimes tell what is wrong with the sick child.  Sometimes she looks at the onehundredthousand times magnified sick child flesh sample and says, "that's down sydrome."  Then the graduation girl tells the doctor that the sick child has down's syndrome.  Then the doctor goes and tells the sick child's parent's that their child has down's syndrome.  Then that's about it.  The child has down's syndrome for the rest of his life. 6:50:01 PM    comment []

Here is a picture of Lou Dobbs.  I took his picture off my tv screen.  It is very cold.  My lizzards need more lettuce.  There is an old bowl of chef boy ardi(?) in my refrigerator with the spoon still in it.  There is an empty pizza box in there too and sad wilted things that I don't want to look at.  In my endless, confused scramble for sex, love, and affection I have only dozens of scraps of phone numbers and come stained towels.  God is not smiling on me.  God is frowning on me.  Lou Dobbs might as well be God.  6:31:02 PM    comment []

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