Yup, so this is where I spend a good portion of the day. I used a cracked-out ghetto camera I borrowed from someone, so the picture quality is ass. Just pretend it's like some old family document showing where your mom used to work her way through college writing erotic fiction for the back of men's magazine. I know other people have done this before, with the numbering, and in my case I think I stole the idea from shelleyness, but I could be wrong.

There's something about being able to picture where someone spends their time. There are people in this world I love, and yet I have no idea what their apartments look like, or cars, or offices. And when in the past I've finally gotten to see those places I'd always just pictured, it makes me very happy. There is something about imagination being better than reality - imagination being somehow more vivid and evocative - but not always. Sometimes being in someone's car or in someone's house that you've imagined and wondered about brings you closer to that person. Even if you don't get to see their place more than once, when you talk to them and they tell you that they're on their couch or in their yard, you can see them there. See the way their leg tucks under them as they talk or how they lean back in that chair with their feet up and their shoe dangling off the toes in a way you might find annoying with anyone else, but in them just works. Similarly, I like when people I care about see my place. I know that my mom can picture my place, as can my sister, having both been there. That means something to me.

So here is a shot of my very boring-looking cubicle. Ah, but Look Closer...

1 - Hanging from the cheap cork ceiling are stuffed animals. We dangled them from neck straps meant for wearing our ID cards around. On the left is a frog. It makes me feel as if I'm in the end of Magnolia. That's a spider. This is the only spider dangling above me that won't make me instantly run screaming like a little girl. Off camera is a dog, a monkey, and a turkey.

2 - A postcard by artist Barbara Kruger. It shows a bunch of men in tuxes play-fighting with what looks to be the groom at a wedding. It's all very manly and fun, but the text over it says, "You construct intricate rituals which allow you to touch the skin of other men." I dig Barbara Kruger a lot.

3 - My phone. I probably talk on the phone too much, but at this point my job is so mindless, that I can pretty much do it through any kind of distraction. Normally, I really dislike the phone. I just don't like talking on the phone or the phone ringing, but I'm learning not to hate it so much. Basically I think that somewhere I either resent not being able to see the person I'm talking to, or don't really want to be talking to that person in the first place. Either way I end up seeming impatient and in a rush to get off. It's just my trip. Ignore me.

4 - A plastic sword. I forget how I came to have this. I put it up because... I don't know why I did. I think swords are funny. I also think the word "sword" is funny. What's that "W" doing there, all silent and shit?

5 - Toys on top of the monitor. On the right is a Curious George bendie monkey where you push the thing at the bottom and he dances and shit. There's also a Siberian Husky beanie baby and another frog and a hoppy frog and a monkey on a spring that jiggles around as I type. For the record, I work at the type of place where one just accrues toys. It's not like I go buy them. OK, I bought the monkeys, but that's just cuz, well, I love monkeys.

6 - Toys on top of the computer. At right, a flippy monkey. He's a monkey who flips. He's holding a banana. He rules. On the left, a little TV you look through and see JFK arriving in Texas.

7 - Instant Hand Sanitizer. Because I am indeed The Boy Who Couldn't Stop Washing. However, bitches, I rarely (knock wood) ever get sick. So you just go right on laughing as my hands bleed from the scrubbing. Must. Get. Clean.

8 - Diet Coke. Funny, I took this picture about a month ago and yet right now there is a Diet Coke in the exact same place. Yes, it's hard to be such a fucking bad-ass.

9 - Lotion. For the overwashed hands. And for when I get really bored.

10 - Just off screen is my Lesbian Love Calendar, celebrating Sapphic love between females. This month there are two women with eyes closed leaning their heads against each other, their arms draped and tangled around one another. It's rather sweet. My other calendar is Disasters of the 20th Century. This month is Hurricane Hugo, and there's a shot of 150 boats thrown on top of one another in a harbor somewhere. It's pretty cool. I feel like that sometime.

11 - My stereo. I have about 40 CD's to the right, but don't listen to them a whole lot now that Napster has come into my life. Poor stereo. Touch it. Love it.

12 - A bunch of tapes I never listen to. They've been in that stack for about six months, untouched. Poor tapes. Touch them. Love them.

13 - Work notes. Basically stuff I should have learned two years ago posted all over as reference for when I, like, actually do work. It's not pretty, folks. Not at all.

14 - Sticky notes. To-do lists, mostly. Shit goes very undone on my to-do lists. Very. It's mostly psychological at this point. Makes it look like I have an agenda and follow it. I don't. I'm crazy like that.

15 - My computer. That's hotmail up right now, I think. I stare at that all day. My eyes hate me.

16 - Don't look directly into the light! What, are you insane?!

17 - This is where I put my head down and sigh a few times every day.

The Larry King Happy Song Corner

 
 
All of my purple life, I've been lookin' 4 a dame, that would wanna be my wife. That was my intention main. CHORUS: If we cannot make babies, maybe we can make some time. Fuck so pretty, U and me. Erotic City come alive. We could fuck until the dawn. Makin' love 'til cherry's gone. Erotic City, can't U see? Fuck so pretty, U and me. Every time I comb my hair. Thoughts of U get in my eyes. U're a sinner, I don't care. I just want your creamy thighs. All of my hang-ups are gone. How I wish U felt the same. We could fuck until the dawn. How I wish U were my dame... speaking of which. The last time I had creamy thighs, I ended up in the hospital for a week. Damn sores.
 
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