December 9, 1997

It's kinda cool to actually have a crush on a woman. That's never really happened to me before. I've gradually fallen in love with a girl my age before, but never had a fall-down, dropjaw crush on a woman before. It's kinda keen. Not that I'll do anything about it, but it's really made me a lot more aware of the women around me, and it's kinda fun in a very safe way. I'm still happily married, but it's making the world look a little different.

I'm also still a little bit sick from yesterday and Sunday. There was a time when I was a asleep and John was trying to wake me up, and it worried him a *lot* that I simply was not going to wake up. Especially yesterday. For some odd reason, he has this feeling that I might still want to get to work around noon on days when I'm sick. I'm still not sure if I'm the one that gives him the idea or not, but it's something I think I'm going to have to disabuse him of, someday. Still a stuffy nose and tired, but at least I can wake up and think some.

Oh! And I had the coolest dream Sunday morning, as we didn't get home from a dinner party until about midnight.

First the party, because it was probably setup for the dream. There's a gang of folks that used to work for Synario. Most of them left during the really rough years when Data I/O management were being assholes about the fact that they weren't keeping Synario in order to grow it, rather they were trying to do their best to sell it, to make it look good rather than actually be any good. So, for their self-respect, many people left. And some of the best still get together for dinner every once in a while. Both the guys that worked with John to implement the original product, two guys that were the engineering managers at various times for them, and the one marketing guy that actually understood what was going on were all part of that team. A fairly awesome team, all in all, for software development.

They all know how to cook really well, and they all have the same kinds of tastes in food and conversation that John and I do, so we have a great time whenever we get together with them, eat gourmet food, light a lot of candles and then get drunk, light up cigars, and talk until it gets too late for the babysitters.

In many ways it's better now that they're all in different places, there's a lot less bitching going on because of work, and when some folks are doing badly, others are doing well, and so it balances out better.

Appetizers included humus, goat cheese, sun-dried tomato pesto, brie, and various other goodies on good Italian bread. Dinner was beef tenderloin with roasted shallot gravy, polenta with wild mushrooms in port, and sauted new green beans and carrots. Dessert was a cranberry topped mocha cheesecake. There were plenty of martini's, four half cases of beer, and lots of juice. Lots of great food.

So my dream was mostly taken up by a Chinese banquet, and I was somewhat overlooking what was going on, but not exactly in charge. I'd hired the head chefs for the banquet itself, and, at random, I was choosing the dishes that would be served to the head table. Mostly so that if anyone was going to be poisoning my boss, they'd have to pretty much take out the whole gathering, which included some of the highest Tong bosses, so if they did try that, the bloodbath would be bigger than any mob boss would dream of. So this would be precaution enough, for now.

And as I wandered through the kitchens, half watching the knives of the assistant chefs, I remembered my try outs to be Chow Yun Fat's personal cook. It was when he (or his character... who was, of course, a gang dude) was still on the growth curve, in that particularly dangerous time when he had enough money and power to gain a good house and needed staff for the first time. When he wasn't powerful enough to completely protect himself, but with enough power that he made a useful target. So I'd come to his new house to try out for chef, basically cooking him lunch while he watched.

In the middle of the tryout a fire fight broke out, and I took care of one with a knife, and then ended up just fitting bullet cartridges into magazines for him as he fired from behind a kitchen counter. Calm under fire with a guy like that for a boss.

Anyway, he liked how I performed under fire, and so I was hired. I knew his every taste and even the simple fact that his habits weren't habits. I was in charge of every aspect of his food, including the security aspects of it, and now had at my beck and call several burly 'security' folks that would do exactly what I asked, no questions asked. I woke about then, realizing that either a) I was about to betray him or b) I was about to get killed to set up the rest of the movie because while I was entirely his, he was, in no way, any part mine...

It was an interesting dream.



The weekend was grey and cold. As was Monday. Rainy here and there, and when the cold overtook me, I was just as glad to be in bed. Spent most of it asleep, also drank a lot of simple liquids and puttered about a little here and there.

I have one interest that's secret and fun and usually something I only do when I'm brainless and tired out of my mind. It's a quiet enjoyment. I like to watch bull riding on late-night or mid-day ESPN sports. (laughter) It's so keen to see, in so many ways, for me, mostly because there's such an obvious willingness by the bulls to go out there and do what they do. It's pure bull-headed athletic power, brute and not to simple. You can see them learn and figure things out and when it comes to the elimination round you see the huge, old bulls that know what they're doing, and know how to change up on a cowboy in ways that are most bone-jarring and most likely to dislodge the impudent human that's perched on their backs.

The way the bulls mostly just wait patiently when they're in the chute and then explode out of it in a fury of motion just astonishes me, in some ways. Because it's so obvious that they know what they're doing. The bulls are as much athletes as the cowboys on 'em, and what they can do with their immense bodies just amazes me.

Okay, the cowboys amaze me pretty much, too. That kind of flexibility, balance, and spine crushing compaction just pretty much leaves me open-mouthed in awe. And then those crazy clowns that slap that ton of fury to get its attention and head it away from a downed cowboy amazes me too, with just the courage that goes into it. The bulls actually, once the cowboy is down, don't do that much to them, usually just docilely trot out of the ring after the thing on their back is gone.

Anyway, that's a vice I seem to indulge in the most when I'm sick or mostly mindless, so I have no guilt about it. *grin*

Last night, I dreamed that people would come up to me and ask me for a story for the day, and I'd tell them one, a different one each day, though, sometimes, they were about the same people.

I guess that that is what I do here.

© 1997 by Liralen Li

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