Monday, April 22, 2002

long live the intifada

This morning was the lazy sort. I woke up at elevenish, watched some porn and masturbated. Took a really long shower because I brought the boombox into the bathroom and ended up listening to practically the entire Use Your Illusion 1 album, singing along with Axl. Or okay, maybe not the entire album, maybe just a few select songs over and over again. Especially "Don't Cry," "You Ain't the First," and of course "November Rain." So yeah, I was in the shower forever ever ever.

I got out, made some food, drank some coffee, put on a facial mask, lied in my bed reading the CityPaper personals and listened to Zepplin's Physical Graffiti. It was a hard rock and roll kind of day. Except not really. Not at all. I was in the mellowest mood ever, burning incense and reading the "I Saw You" personals so so excitedly, sort of hoping that maybe one of them would be meant for me. I love reading the personals more than anything. I was reading all of them. The Women Seeking Women, Men Seeking Women, Women Seeking Men, Men Seeking Men, all of them, and of course, the I Saw You ones. I spent so much time lingering over each of the ads, trying to imagine the circumstances described and how cute each of the people must be, and wondering if the person that was seen will even read the ad, and how sad that would be if she or he did not. Something about unfilled, maybe even lost potential. Something that could have been. And I really wanted to place an "I Saw You" ad, but could not think of anyone real noteworthy that I saw and was just enamored with recently.

Such a good, lazy day. I then, at about five o'clock, left my house and drove to NW DC, to attend the pro-Palestine protest outside the AIPAC meeting. DC Police had pretty much all of NW on lock down, with just about every street shut down to traffic, so I spent forever driving around, and finally found a parking spot in this chi-chi embassy area. I had to pee so bad, and knew that I would not be able to pee anywhere at the rally, so I peed on the huge lawn that my car was parked next to. I then headed to the rally, and walked around the corner to see which Embassy's lawn I peed on. And all right, I could not have done any better: The French Embassy. Whoo!

Even though I went by myself, I had so much fun. I got to put my lungs to good use, believing that screaming could even be meaningful after some Arab woman pleaded with us protesters to yell really loud - that all we had to give was our voices. Not too much to ask, she said. And inspired, I yelled like crazy and started leading protesters in call and response chants. I was having so much fun yelling and clapping and dancing. The people / u-ni-ted /can never be / de-feat-ed! Chanting this with so many others and jumping up and down and again, this was the closest to oneness that I feel like I may ever feel. Shame Shame USA, funding Israel this way. Yelling with a bunch of other people in unison, completely exhausitng yourself, you lose your individual identity - your fears and quirks and second thoughts and all things cerebral are lost - lost to the mass of yellingness that you become. And it feels so good.Sharon and Hitler are the same - The only differnce is their name! And there was this friendly group of Hasidic Jews there, which made me so so happy since I was beginning to worry that perhaps I was an anti-Semite for thinking that Isreal does not have a right to exist. But here were Orthodox Jews who were even more anti-Israel than me. Whoo!!Sharon, Sharon, you shall see / Our Palestine will be free! And then, a little after nine, things slowly started to die down, and I was still savoring the high of physical exhaution and unity, but I decided to head home, and was about to start looking for my car, when I took one last look at the crowd, stared into space, and took it all in. I was brought back to "reality" by the touch of a gorgeous, gorgeous boy. I think he was blonde, and I also think he was wearing green. The details have all faded now. But, anyways, he placed his hand on my shoulder, looked at my face, but I was still sort of in a haze to think to make eye contact back or even realize what was happening, and he patted my shoulder and then he kept on walking. And then I came out of my haze, and wished I would have said something. Anything. And now perhaps, I have someone to place an "I Saw You" ad about.

A22 - AIPAC protest. You: the cute boy that I remember nothing about other than that you might have been blonde and also might have been wearing green. But you brought me out of one daydream with a kind pat on the shoulder and into new ones about what might have been. Coffee?

Ha-ha, that one's lame. I'll have to think of something better. Anyways, after my I Saw You encounter, I left in search of my car. Wandering closed down streets, trying to remember where I parked my car, looking up at houses that made me feel like Oliver Twist or some other Industrial England orphan. These were huge towering mansions and Embassies that reminded me that there is still an upper class. People with insane amounts of money. Anyways, I finally found my car and had to pee again, but easily could have held it. Just for good measure, though, I peed on the lawn of the French Embassy.


To Do List
-take minivan to get oil changed and tire looked at
-make an "I am a Palestinian" t-shirt
-return those DVD's to the Alexandria library
-buy plane ticket to Atlanta
-maybe call William
-return those shoes that don't fit
-apply for some jobs
-call Hour Eyes about picking up the rest of my contacts
-find out when my dentist appointment
-don't think about It
-get my paycheck from Maggie
-make something

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