| April 20, 1999 | |
      
Listening to: Cher's "Believe"
Reading:
Wandering:
|
I'd really appreciate it if my mother believed me that
I'm searching for a job. When I talked to her on the
phone, she was supportive with helping me pay
off a credit line, but it was just the way that she said
that it was my only job now to look for a job.
I don't think I could explain in bolder or more
italicized words that job hunting is the ONLY
job I've been doing. It's so rainy out and I just want my pajamas. J. and I lay in bed last night holding each other in a sweet way, with a medium sex drive, and talked about the universe. Honestly, the universe. Our conversation bordered on cliche if you want to see it that way, but for 12:30 a.m., it was pretty philosophical. For instance, J. told me that, supposedly, engineers are working on transportation that would facilitate travel to the next star system (thousands of light years away). Anyone who would go on this voyage would possibly have children and grandchildren while traveling. Kids would grow up only hearing about earth. When they would get to the star system, they'd probably never contact their earth family. So I thought, to the family, that person could be considered dead. It's the virtual afterlife. You know you're alive, but your loved ones can't contact you to confirm. <-- --> |
