A Journal Of Little Consequence Based on a true story.

Saturday, May 31, 2003   I felt distinctly Faustian as M. went over the virtues of a book he wanted me to read on the subject of seduction. I did not care for the way that it encouraged the reader to think of people as "victims" and "prey". The practical advice given seemed sound enough, though, and in line with other sources that I had seen dealing with the same subject, but which did not foster disrespect for others. The attitude with which one performs an interaction may not make any obvious difference to the others with whom you deal, but it makes a difference to your dealings with yourself. Therefore, for the sake of my soul, I have decided not to buy the book. I shall instead spend the money on something more wholesome, such as drugs, or prostitutes. posted by grover | Saturday, May 31, 2003   (Friday's entry) With my entry into the hit-parade imminent, I felt that it was time that I shed my inhibitions about singing with full force in front of others, and started by sharing my voice with my cousin. It was a nerve-wracking experience, not so much because of performance anxiety, but because it was an act of baring one's soul. In any case, she seemed to enjoy it, and it was an intimate moment. posted by grover | Saturday, May 31, 2003 Friday, May 30, 2003   (Thursday night's entry) M. proudly told me that he had restored my reputation after inadvertantly putting it into question by letting something slip in conversation. At the same time as being glad at this "rectification", I felt slightly uneasy about it, as it had the faint air of clandestiny. I shall stick to influencing how I am perceived through direct interaction rather than via a third party. In a brief doorway encounter, I noted that Z. was dressed in elegant evening wear for work, splendidly inappropriate attire considering the nature of her job, comparable to pot-holing in a tuxedo. I know from previous experience that the reason for this was not vanity so much as laundry. I was given the job of assessing the quality of one of my favourite films for a future commercial release. It was certainly more than passable, although I did toy with the notion of insisting that a more thorough job was done on removing minor blemishes, on account of the likelihood that I would be purchasing a copy of the film made from the very tape I was watching. I managed to resist, however, realising that this small taste of power was already starting to corrupt me. A slippery slide into a mire of decadence narrowly averted. posted by grover | Friday, May 30, 2003   (Wednesday's entry) As I nursed the eye infection picked up from trying on glasses at the optician's shop the day before, I read a passage that recommended being aware and unashamed of one's sexual desires when dealing with someone you are attracted to. I contrasted this with my own definition of "desire", which in my mind means mistaking something that one would like for something that one needs. There is a Buddhist point of view (garnered from a popular entertainment programme) that we want for much when we need little. I am not ready for an entirely ascetic existence just yet, though, and living without desire to attain what one wants might seem contradictory, or worse, disingenuous. However, I see this as meaning that one can perceive a goal more clearly when it is not veiled by a sense of need. This also places said goal into perspective with regard to life as a whole, which is to say that goals really aren't that important. In other words: progress towards your goals by forgetting about them. Having said this, I do feel that I may have gone too far the other way in some respects, and denied myself of things that I would like by acting not only as if I did not need them, but as if I actively wanted to not have them. This is probably a throwback to my more self-destructive days, when I would consistently engineer situations to my own disadvantage. Fortunately, hostilities with myself have since eased off. posted by grover | Friday, May 30, 2003 Tuesday, May 27, 2003   After years of procrastination, I finally purchased a new pair of spectacles. Hours of peering at row upon row of different frames and asking the advice of anyone at hand were for naught, as I simply picked up a pair and decided to go with them. As is often the case, having made the decision to do something, the thing itself was relatively simple and quick to achieve. It's the thinking about doing it that can take literally decades. Armed with this insight, I can now achieve all those things I've been putting off. First thing tomorrow, I'll get onto it. posted by grover | Tuesday, May 27, 2003   (Monday's entry) I attended an outstanding (as always) concert given by my favourite living singer for the second time in three days. Because D. had cancelled at the eleventh hour, I invited G. to attend instead, which he was only too glad to do. Aside from the fact that I knew that he wanted to go, and generally just wanting to see him, I had another reason for asking him to come, which was that there appears to be a fair chance that he and Z. may eventually be united in sexual congress. Had I still been harbouring vague notions that this evening would be a chance to have Z. to myself and "work" on her for my own ends, I might have hesitated to call G. I truly do not know what this attitude is going to achieve. As previously stated, there is the possibility that it could help me in a way that trying too hard would not. However, the usual chaste parting kiss between Z. and myself suggests that this particular road leads away from her boudoir. Indeed, G.'s goodbye to me was more affectionate, taking the form of a warm embrace. This was well appreciated, although I hope it does not indicate that I am actually travelling a path that leads to his bedchamber. He's just not my type. posted by grover | Tuesday, May 27, 2003 Sunday, May 25, 2003   (Sunday's entry) In the almost empty upper storey of a drinking hole where the ground floor was occupied by men gawping at a football game, I lazily listened to B. and the singer of the band he is in discussing ther musical career. As usual, I was content to make a minimal contribution to the conversation, particularly when opinions were expressed that I did not agree with. I generally don't find arguments very useful, and in my experience, they tend to descend into ludicrously fine detail and semantic and linguistic manipulation. Points of view are relative, after all, and when they are of little consequence, why bring up differences? I read somewhere that the truth never lies, but if it did, it would lie somewhere in between. This is not to say that I never express an opinion, as earlier that day I had feverishly been laying out my thoughts on a desire-free existence to my now erstwhile shift-partner. It was hardly an argument, though; she couldn't get a word in edgeways. posted by grover | Sunday, May 25, 2003 Saturday, May 24, 2003   (Saturday's entry) My colleague deemed this journal to be a "waste of cyberspace". Perhaps she resents the fact that I refuse to tell her where it is located. I felt slightly humiliated whilst out walking with M., who has offered to advise me on how to improve my chances of success in sexual matters. Whilst I do not believe he has some special talent that I have hitherto been unaware of, I am interested in what he has to say on the subject, because, as mentioned before, he has been through a similar process of personal development. However, he seems to think that I am even more hapless than I really am, and was, I thought, a little condescending. I hope that he does not take too seriously the role of Svengali. I was further humbled when I received a call from Z. to arrange the particulars of a concert we are going to on Monday which D. is also to attend. She had previously expressed an interest in meeting beforehand, which I had presumed meant just the two of us. This was given additional appeal by her mentioning that she had just bought a new corset, which she would wear "if I was lucky"; the possibility that I might be "lucky" was intriguing at the very least. However, it turned out that Z. wishes for all of us to meet together, and she bid me goodbye with the most gut-wrenching term of enderament that a woman can give a man: "mate". In any case, looking back, I recalled that one of the most important lessons that I have learned in recent times is to let go of desire, that mother of frustration. Ironically, this is key to getting what you want. The negative thoughts and feelings I had been having were hardly characteristic of someone free of desire. Yet again I have to perform a check on myself and make a conscious effort to take life as it is, not what I think it should be. This deeply spiritual approach will ensure that I can enjoy hearing women tell me about their underwear without raising spurious expectations. Enlightenment beckons. posted by grover | Saturday, May 24, 2003 Friday, May 23, 2003   A slow day at work led to more time than usual being available for idle chatter amongst colleagues. Subjects of discussion included vibrators, Battenberg cake, why I write this diary, and the sexual proclivities of my boss. Tempted as I was to indulge in some mildly insulting banter about her, I resisted, and, perhaps feeling a little guilty, I decided to be pleasant towards her. Hopefully, maintaining a certain level of charm will assist me in getting a raise (although the last person to challenge the status quo with her was dismissed just yesterday). Speaking of charm, I was accused of laying it on by my supervisor when I told a female colleague that she looked well. Neither of them realised that I was actually being sarcastic, but I decided not to elaborate upon this. Malicious though my intentions were, it goes to show that even an insincere kind word can go a long way. I shall try to give out more genuine ones in future. T. called me on his way to the Eurovision Song Contest and asked me to supply the vocals on the album he has been working on for a year or so. This was extremely flattering, although I have never particularly cared for his songwriting. Still, it will be fun to help out a friend doing something I enjoy, and I have megalomaniacal fantasies about salvaging the material by the magical power of my voice. posted by grover | Friday, May 23, 2003 Thursday, May 22, 2003   I met with D. at a trade show. Formal environments such as this have always made me feel supremely uneasy, and I haplessly followed D. around for a while, trying to gain some clue as to how I should be acting. In an act of extreme ungentlemanliness, I deserted her whilst we were at a product demonstration, and proceeded to wander around by myself. I immediately started to relax; rather than trying to adhere to some external idea of what I "should" be doing, garnered from hearing what others usually got out of such events, I was instead following my own course, and ended up at a fascinating talk that the others I knew in attendance at the show would probably have had little interest in. Later, as we perused the products on sale in a shop specialising in "marital aids", the shop assistant expounded upon the surprising number of people who achieved states of physical pleasure with the assistance of electric toothbrushes. I recalled the previous day, when my dentist had vigorously encouraged me to purchase such an item, and wondered whether the reasons for his enthusiasm went beyond his concern for my oral hygiene. posted by grover | Thursday, May 22, 2003 Wednesday, May 21, 2003   The Lord giveth and he taketh away. A dentist informed me that I would require fillings due to some decay. This after well over a decade with trouble-free teeth. With my various other health problems, I had thought that this was one physical feature that I could rely on to be in good condition. I am not sure how these unholy holes appeared, as I do not have a sweet tooth by any means. Perhaps I have been drinking too much herbal tea. On a positive note, I was discharged from the eye hospital. A cyclist shouted at me to run as I was sprinting ineptly across a road along which he constituted the only approaching traffic. In the past, I would have interpreted this as an offensive gesture, but this time I turned back after reaching the other side, waved, and thanked him in a dry manner. The smile on his face clearly indicated that he had indeed been making fun of me, but in a friendly way. Later on, as I was being interviewed for a job, I found myself less interested in the position on offer, and more in the French woman interviewing me. I will be interested to see if this attitude contributes to my being offered the job. On concluding the interview, I used the women's toilet, which was bathed completely in pink light. Afterwards, I had the sudden desire for male rather than female company, possibly stemming from a need to reaffirm my masculinity. posted by grover | Wednesday, May 21, 2003 Tuesday, May 20, 2003   I was accused of having gone "lady crazy" by someone who had previously labelled me asexual. This may be progress. posted by grover | Tuesday, May 20, 2003   My journey was interrupted due to a serious road accident having occurred. Walking off the bus, I could see a large crowd of people gathered at the scene. I cast a quick glance over the carnage as I was walking past, but did not stop. Some of the onlookers were smiling, even making jokes about what had happened, which seems rather callous, but then I suppose that the accident did not have much bearing on them personally, or perhaps it was their way of dealing with the shock. It certainly didn't affect me a great deal; I thought it was a shame, but didn't see the use in dwelling on someone else's tragedy that I could not do anything about. posted by grover | Tuesday, May 20, 2003 Monday, May 19, 2003   Attention was drawn to the large number of companies I have worked for, and how little time I have spent at each*. Apparently, leaving after six months is not considered to be a sign of corporate loyalty. Therefore, my usual trick of leaving before six months have passed could well be considered an act of near Brutean treachery. This job-hopping habit of mine does not sit well with my previously mentioned reputation as a dependable kind of fellow, ripe for the registry office. These kinds of dualities are rife. Sometimes it seems to be the hardest-working person who believes himself to not be making enough effort, or the most talented one who underestimates their own abilties. My image of myself has tended to be of someone who has a rather conservative lifestyle and sensibilities, yet looking at my curriculum vitae, I almost seem to be some sort of drifter. I do think it is possible to combine extremes, though; I am conscientious about my work, yet simultaneously more blasé in some ways about it than is considered polite. Perhaps I might try being less of a "rolling stone" in my working life, and more so in my personal affairs, which historically have been comparable to rapids and a stagnant pond respectively. Either that, or I shall bring the state of the latter up (or down, depending on your point of view) to that of the former. Is this what is known as a "mid-life crisis"? *by a representative of a company I am considering defecting to after less than three months in my current job. posted by grover | Monday, May 19, 2003 Sunday, May 18, 2003   The difficulties revisited in yesterday's conversation seemed to make an unwelcome reappearance in my life with almost comical timing. I am presuming that this is largely due to these issues being more to the forefront in my mind than is normally the case these days, thereby affecting my judgement of external events. Still, those external events were more unpleasant than usual. An unfortunate coincidence, but then life is full of these. I decided not to attend J.'s birthday gathering, because I did not want to go to bed late. Whether I succeed in retiring early, or whether I perform my usual trick of staying up into the small hours remains to be seen. This is the third time that I have broken my rule about attending every social function that I am invited to because of fatigue. I believe that this is indicative of progress (feeling able to make a choice, not the fatigue). posted by grover | Sunday, May 18, 2003   (Saturday's entry) A buffet dinner with M., including pizza that did not appear to have any tomato sauce on it, turned into a seven-hour conversation. Because he and I have been through similar experiences, I decided to reveal a number of things about myself that most of my friends are unaware of, as outlined in yesterday's diary entry. It was painful to go through these memories, but it was good to share these intimate things with M., who seemed to understand, even though certain parts of my story were a little hard for even him to swallow. I have always thought of M. as being rather closed off from people, apart from those whom he allows into his "inner circle". However, he was actually open with me about his past long before I was with him. I had let him know before when I was unhappy, but I had not talked in detail before about the reasons. Nonetheless, whilst I do not dwell on the past on the whole, as it tends to bring on a certain amount of melancholy, I believe that I am reasonably open about the person I am now. M. did mention that N. had called me a "dark horse"; I can recall other occasions when she has said words to the effect that there is more to me than meets the eye. Little does she know that there is actually less. M. offered me the opportunity to work on a pornographic film (not in front of the camera, I hasten to add). I declined, but made it clear that he should feel free to invite me to any parties associated with the production. posted by grover | Sunday, May 18, 2003 Saturday, May 17, 2003   (Friday's entry) Over breakfast, an older colleague referred to the two of us as being "seasoned adventurers" in life in comparison to our considerably younger shift partner, who was also at the table. She and others have talked about me in this light before, which is ironic, as my younger co-worker's wisdom and experience sometimes leave me feeling a little embarrassed at my own naivete. I have found that others tend to assume things about both my history and my current existence that are not actually the case. I believe that many of the people I know would be surprised if I told them of the pain and boredom that were the dominant themes of my life until recently, not that there is a need to do so. Whilst there might be a perceived disparity between those things and what I am now, I choose to believe that we create "reality" in our minds, the bare facts of the world around us and past events being the substrate for the interpretations we place upon them. They set limits for us, but they need not be shackles. posted by grover | Saturday, May 17, 2003 Friday, May 16, 2003   (Thursday's entry) Five kisses, in chronological order: 1. Long distance. Deposited into the kisser's (D.'s) hand, then blown across the room in a theatrical and, as always, sultry fashion. 2. Double, or continental. Placed upon N.'s cheeks, which are unfeasibly smooth and round to the touch. I wonder if she is real. 3. Stolen. As Z.'s face was out of reach. I took her hand and kissed the back of it, which seemed to cause some surprise. Is a kiss on the hand more intimate than one on the face? 4. Witheld. A kiss seemed to be expected. As I did not know the woman that well, I heistated, and the moment was gone. Mental note: if in doubt, do. 5. Chaste. J.'s arms were wrapped round my neck, but her feet were well away from mine, ensuring minimal bodily contact. This may be my own doing, as I used to shrink from her spontaneous displays of affection. posted by grover | Friday, May 16, 2003 Thursday, May 15, 2003   (Wednesday night's entry) A colleague explained how a particular computer at work used to reside at another company where I had done some work before. It is quite likely that I was sitting in front of that very computer six years ago. How strange to be reunited with this rather nondescript inanimate object. I wonder how many times I have had ownership of the coins currently in my possession before? posted by grover | Thursday, May 15, 2003 Wednesday, May 14, 2003   (Tuesday night's entry) A visit from a policeman helped to break the routine of the night's work. My colleague offered him a strawberry. posted by grover | Wednesday, May 14, 2003 Tuesday, May 13, 2003   (Monday night's entry) A colleague recounted to me how another woman had made a pass at her. I drew attention to the fact that this was not the first time that she had told me of such an occurrence. I went on to jokingly say that I usually found myself in the opposite situation, whereby women whom I liked turned out to be lesbians. When my colleague, suitably amused, pressed me for further information, I chose not to continue the conversation, as it dawned on me that there was a grain of truth in what I had said. Women with whom I have a close rapport tend to be at least bisexually inclined. This particular colleague is not a lesbian, although the very fact that we get along well invokes suspicions in me that she would not be entirely averse to non-heterosexual encounters. I have decided not to pursue the thought that my influence may be a factor in persuading these women that a lifestyle which excludes men as sexual partners would be a good idea. posted by grover | Tuesday, May 13, 2003 Sunday, May 11, 2003   (Sunday's entry, in reverse chronological order) According to J., there is a certain look that men give women when they are attracted to them. I do not know what this look is; my surface waters tend to remain relatively still, and J. herself certainly never picked up on what I thought were strong signals from myself denoting interest. Perhaps it would be a good idea to find out what kind of ripples need to be sent out in order to indicate this. The most I can usually manage is a ludicrous and somewhat mischievous grin. It's things like this that lead to people not knowing whether I am male or female on Internet Relay Chat, and asking me in all seriousness whether I am a "eunuch". As J. recounted to her rather surly friend the tale of a mutual, continent-hopping friend of theirs who had taken to lovesickness and drinking, I reflected on how very simple my existence is in comparison to that of many others around me. I believe that on the whole this is a good thing, although the vague thought remains that perhaps I am leading a humdrum life and missing out on certain experiences which, though painful, might be enriching in some way. Still, when there is so much joy to be had in the simple pleasures in life, such as J.'s four-year-old daughter asking her mother's friend to include me in a picture of a boat that he was drawing for her, I do tend to think: why complicate things? At a museum exhibition on the theme of memory, people were walking around videotaping and photographing the items on display, thereby unwittingly (one would assume) making themselves into a living part of the exhibition. In one exhibit, visitors were encouraged to speak into a telephone to record memories they had of the museum. I might go back, and record a memory of seeing that exhibit. posted by grover | Sunday, May 11, 2003 Saturday, May 10, 2003   Visiting the recently opened Indian supermarket for the first time, I discovered the existence of cheese with chili and ginger in it. I made a telephone call whilst continuing to peruse the aisles, in the hope that the Indian music playing through the public address system would make me sound more cosmopolitan. posted by grover | Saturday, May 10, 2003 Friday, May 09, 2003   My suspicions have been confirmed: the woman who works at the newsagent's does indeed also work at the doctor's surgery, something I had only just recently noticed after years of being served by her in each of these quite different environments. The dual role she has is in itself unremarkable; presumably both jobs are part-time. Nonetheless, I had a strange sense of reality breaking down as I picked up my prescription, and felt compelled to look into the newsagent's shop on the way home to reassure myself that she was not there by way of some bizarre time-space distortion. posted by grover | Friday, May 09, 2003   (Thursday's entry) The concept of "irony", illustrated by example: 1. A trio of friends , C., N. and D(a). (no relation), expounded upon their love-lives. I listened with interest, but remained silent. Then C. asked me if I had ever had my heart broken. (Sometimes I impress even myself with my ability to invisibly deflect such questions.) Presently, I found myself giving her advice about her own broken-heartedness. This went down sufficiently well for N. to say that she felt better herself for what I had said, and for C. to suggest that D(a). take a "turn" to be counselled by me. Just call me the Relationship Guru. If only they knew about my own state of affairs, or lack of them... 2. The conversation turned to the possibility of men and women being platonic friends. N. used the example of my taking Z. to dinner to illustrate that such a relationship was indeed possible. This was rather disappointing to hear, as Z. is probably the woman whom I would currently most like to bed out of those that I know (which is not to say that I do not want to sleep with all the others as well). Yet, my relationship with her was being held up as a paragon of chastity. Once again I seemed to be being perceived as the living equivalent of an action figurine with no reproductive organs. N. and C. then complained that I had not taken either of them out. I pointed out that this was not entirely true in C.'s case, and made a note of N.'s telephone number. After a lifetime starved of female affection, I now have a number of women wanting to spend time with me. Sadly, not one of them appears to want to engage in sexual intercourse nor even, it would seem, light petting with me*. *This is not something that causes me distress. However, I am looking into it. posted by grover | Friday, May 09, 2003 Wednesday, May 07, 2003   What a tangled web we weave. My old schoolmate and current friend S. once again asserted that he had met D. (to whom he had spoken on my birthday) before, although neither of them can remember where they met. It also turned out that he had worked with J. years ago, but had either forgotten her or not noticed her at the time. A woman walked past, whom he pointed out as both a colleague and having an admirable behind. Naturally, I already knew her. I discovered during this conversation that S. and J. had not slept together, something that I was utterly convinced had happened. Yet another example of how being sure about something with every fibre of one's being is not a reliable indicator of how true that thing is. It is hard to accept, but I suppose that there is no getting away from it. I am not omniscient. posted by grover | Wednesday, May 07, 2003 Tuesday, May 06, 2003   I'm feeling a strange mixture of apathy and excitement about life. I could not be bothered to go out, yet I managed to sort out a few outstanding issues over the telephone. I sat in the garden eating a fish pie and reading a book that J. had lent me months before, which I had all but given up on. When she telephoned me in the evening and told me about the date she was going to have with a man she met on the train, I was unable to summon up feelings of either jealousy or inadequacy. I tried to convey a sense of amazement at the way they had met, but my heart wasn't really in it. Perhaps I'll try meeting people in public as well. Despite the lack of incident today, I feel glad to be alive. A bit of air and a non-strenuous activity or two may be all that is needed to draw the line between a good and a dull day. This optimistic feeling may be attributable to my only being half awake this day. Either that, or I am coming down with something. posted by grover | Tuesday, May 06, 2003 Monday, May 05, 2003   I went to the supermarket in the early evening. It was shut, as today is a holiday. This was reminiscent of my childhood, when all shops used to shut at around five o' clock. In an unrelated incident, I lost my temper, another unpleasant throwback to past times, when I was frequently angry. As usual, this was triggered by my perceiving a situation that I could not change as unfair, which is ultimately futile. I ate peanuts whilst reading the cartoon strip of the same name. I also ate some grapes, but they were not wrathful. posted by grover | Monday, May 05, 2003   (Sunday's entry) Having just finished work, and with the hour approaching eleven at night, I felt the urge to do "something", despite the exhausting schedule of the weekend just past. As my colleagues were otherwise engaged, I chose to come home, where I still resist the call of my bed. When I finally get there, I shall sit up and read. It is not enough for me to merely rest from work and "switch off"; it must be actively counterbalanced with some pleasurable activity. Such as writing this. posted by grover | Monday, May 05, 2003 Sunday, May 04, 2003   (Saturday's entry) Leaving work late because insufficient time had been allocated for the work I was required to carry out, I fantasised about confronting the person responsible. However, whichever way I pictured it, the encounter seemed fated to turn into an argumentative conflict that I could not win. Even if I did "win" on principle, it would have felt like a hollow victory, and would not change what had happened. I walked briskly to the cinema, and was pleased to make it in time for the packed showing. Despite the best efforts of others, I managed to escape an argument about armrest space (I was perceived as taking up too much). The film's main character was an angry young man, railing against the values of those in authority. I sometimes feel that my lack of strong opinions and rhetorical skills are a sign of weakness. Increasingly, though, I am of the (naturally moderate) opinion that, rather than trying to win the game, it is possible to change the rules, or in the last resort, to opt out of playing it altogether. I found it difficult to eat a quite thin baguette, as I have a small mouth. It can be quite embarrassing trying to eat a sandwich in public; I just can't get much in, and my face gets covered in the filling. I also have a short and not very maneuverable tongue. I do have quite long fingers, though. If I believed in such things, I might see this as some sort of divine compensation for my lack of oral dexterity. And for my ludicrously small genitalia. posted by grover | Sunday, May 04, 2003 Friday, May 02, 2003   I conversed with the cashier at the comics shop about the joys of mobile telephones that vibrate. The excitement of receiving a call combined with the physical sensation of the telephone springing into life provides a quite exquisite thrill. I was barely able to keep my eyes off the splendid midriff of an attractive colleague, which was, as is often the case, exposed to the elements. Fortunately, my telephone did not go off, for that level of stimulation might have killed me. The receptionist commented on the wide, inane grin that was still on my face as I walked past her a few moments later. posted by grover | Friday, May 02, 2003 Thursday, May 01, 2003   Consumerism for its own sake was probably not the best way to practice more free-spiritedness in terms of either spending or living. Yesterday's experiment was perhaps a little "by the numbers". I am apparently an unsuitable candidate for "retail therapy". I shall return one of the more gratuitous things I bought yesterday, and use the money on something that I actually want. Which begs the question: what do I really want? The answer being: comics. posted by grover | Thursday, May 01, 2003		links my life in prose contact archives