1. Tuesday, August 3, 2004

    being in the xbi means 

    never having a set schedule. typically when i get in at 8:30am, i go through the emails, voice mails, and see if anyone commented on my blog.

    around 9:30am danielle will call me and tell me that she has finished clipping her flowers, trashing the dead ones, and is ready to take a walk to get coffee.

    on tuesdays my department has meetings all day. i only have to go to one of them. it usually occurs right before lunch. problem is it happens right when a lot of the bad guys are waking up and are ready to commit crimes.

    it frustrates me to have the meeting at that hour because the day has started, things are in motion, and i get uptight that i have to stop the natural flow of my day to go over stuff that we… well… it’s a meeting, xbi weekley meetings are probably no different than yours.

    some people doodle. i write letters to karisa and tell her that i miss her.

    a little after noon i catch up with what i missed and make plans for lunch.

    if i dont have to immediately take chopper one to a location, i will eat with danielle. we try to mix it up. sometimes its sushi, sometimes soup n salad, sometimes chicken, sometimes it’s fancy.

    maybe the xbi planted her here to keep me happy. if they did, they succeeded. but having her leave in a few weeks is only going to make me less happy than i was before she was assigned to work the flower stand that no one goes to.

    its all very curious and interesting.

    last night she called me several times as an old flame was in town to sell the nakatomi building. apparently his commission was to be issued in gold bullions because there werent enough dollars in los angeles.

    she only rolls with the best.

    but she complained that even though he was born with all the things men year for: wealth girth and stamina, and even though hes a strikingly handsome, and even though he has been frightenly successful in bidness, he has the tact of a buffalo and the communication skills of a chipmonk.

    and he was late for their dinner.

    “why dont you have a car so you could meet me for dinner?” she asked me. i was defrosting some ham that i had stored away. it would eventually only make me a little sick. not even sick. sorta buzzed. it’s not rare for my wishywashy food to make me slightly lightheaded.

    as she said that i thought about the fact that ive gone years and years without a car, and how it hasnt affect me negatively at all. quite the contrary, in fact.

    the years that ive been without a car ive actually gotten laid more often, and with a wider variety of young women than the years that i had brand new cars.

    im no statistician, and i doubt the one actually relates to the other, but during this very weird run with the xbi, i have made less money, had less power, and gotten more tail, while riding the gd bus.

    and ive been able to read and write more than ever in my life.

    “whatever,” danielle interjected. “if you had a ride you’d be sitting next to me in this private room about to eat scallops and sip black bean soup.”

    my toast popped up and i excused myself from the phone as i squeezed some miracle whip on my ham sandy.

    later jeanine would call me at midnight telling me that she was having nightmares, wondering if she could spend the night with me, and i said yes baby, of course.

    and she drove over, parked in the back and we slept like happy naked little puppies in a warm barn during a summer rainstorm.

    its time for my meeting.

    no matt + hugh is the star of the week + tiffany has a photo thingie