not set
2002-09-23 05:37:25 (UTC)

I saw Danny Glover tonight,..

I saw Danny Glover tonight, close up and in person. Not by
chance or fluke, but for almost a full hour. I got to hear
about the things that matter most to him, the things that
get him excited and get him talking at top speeds and full
of energy. They gave him a stool to sit on and when he'd
really get going he'd stand up and sort of rock or do tiny
pacing steps. It was wonderful. He was wonderful. I
agreed with everything that he said. I'd like to think
that if we were both normal people, or perhaps both famous
people, that we would be friends. A girl asked him what
his biggest accomplishment was, and he said it was his
daughter. I think that's so wonderful.
I called Dan afterwards just to talk and to tell him
that I'd seen Danny Glover. He was groggy at first - he'd
been napping so he could stay up late and work on a paper.
We started talking about April, how we felt, good and bad.
I told him that if I were Goldie Locks he'd be my cup of
porridge. hehe I've made a pact with myself not to tell
anyone about what goes on between he and I. He hasn't told
a soul. He says it's simply none of their business. He
also told me that I'm special. I'm the only person he
discusses certain things with. That makes me feel good.
Trusted. Loved. I think we've more or less agreed/decided
that we're going to sleep together the next time I visit.
I think I'm okay with this arrangement, as long as I keep
it straight in my head that it's just sex, we're just
friends, and it's nothing romantic or long term. We just
happen to be each other's cup of porridge. :) I like
that. It sounds so sweet.
I'm having a lot of asthma trouble, which is worrying
me. It also worries Dan, but he's not the one who has to
pay the doctor bills or miss aerobics and be out of the
competition. I have to win the Survivor Challenge.
There're only about 12 or 13 of us, and I know people will
start dropping as the year goes by. This is something that
I can do. I only have seven weeks left. That's 21 classes.
Lee pointed out that I don't talk about the painful
stuff during our hour. I tried to explain that it feels
weird to walk into his office, pry open my heart and soul
and, knowing that I'm up against the clock, confess all of
the deep thoughts and fears that I have. I'm afraid of
being raped. I'm afraid of having a guy pick me up the
same way at a party. I'm afraid of interacting with men I
don't know while drunk. I'm afraid of flipping out at a
party if I'm reminded of it. I'm afraid of the nightmares
that I get when I talk about it. I'm afraid of everything
associated with it. I'm afraid of the depression. Of not
going to classes. Of failing tests. Of sleeping too
much. Everything that I do seems to be the difference
between happiness and depression. Everytime I get stressed
I do my work because I'm afraid that if I don't I'll start
sleeping and withdrawing again. I'm afraid of it all.