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listening to women Three in the afternoon and I have just stumbled out of bed. My mouth was dry and I couldn't sleep any more or at least not very well. The thought of getting a humidifier is becoming more and more desirable. I don't appreciate not being able to breathe. I work tonight even though I usually don't. I said that I would work for my counterpart in exchange for another day off in December. Now all that I have to do is make it through my normal work week and I'll be off for five days in a row. My birthday falls into that span of time. As to what I am going to do on said day has yet to be determined. I had briefly considered running off to California for a few days, but I decided to get the dvd home theater system instead. Making a luxury purchase seemed much easier than trying to coordinate a trip so close to the madness of the holiday season. Speaking of that purchase, I have yet to watch only one dvd since it arrived last Monday. The Perfect Storm was the film that first entered into the machine. I was more impressed by the commentary than the film itself, but it served its purpose. ... After forty minutes of silence last night, Ann started talking to me. She didn't stop until an hour and a half later. It was her usual dam break of emotions with me caught in the flood. There hadn't been any prompting on my part either, because I could tell that she was in one her moods and I was content to do my own thing. She had mumbled something to me in the earlier silence, which I still didn't hear even after she repeated it. My best guess is that it wasn't that important. Once again Ann is crawling out from under about two weeks worth of stress. Some of which I can understand, but some of which I feel is her own fault. I don't say too much. I just sit and listen waiting for her to catch her breath every so often. We both fell into our usual roles, an odd relationship at best and one that I am sure will continue into the coming year. She asks for advice, yet I don't think that she really wants any. She just wants someone to agree with her or at least to listen to her side of the story. She wants someone to feel her confusion and frustration. Somehow that person often ends up being me. She often wavers from riot grrl rhetoric to more traditional cooing over her daughters. At the root of it all lies quite a good deal of anger toward men and overall confusion in her life. Then somewhere in her outburst she always seems to ask in a joking manner why people don't seem to get along with her. This is quickly followed by her openly admitting that she is not a people person. In the entire time that I have known her I have never seen her in a relaxed state. Sometimes she might get close, but those moments fade with very little effort. ... Talking with Nicole is such a contrast to talking with Ann. Quite simply there is more two communication with Nicole. Not only do I get to listen to her stories, but she listens to mine which is refreshing. She also seems to deal with stress better than Ann or maybe she hides it better.
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