It was so hard to wake up this morning. For the past twelve school days in a row, I have seriously considered smashing the alarm clock to itty bitty pieces and falling back asleep for the rest of time. But my responsible nature kicked in today, unfortunately, and I found myself sitting in a cold car that had been left outside all night, unable to work up the motivation to scrape the frost off the windshield. Thankfully I had a temporary slave in the seat next to me, who also happens to be my brother, and he volunteered to do the job.

School was not at all interesting. I walked into first hour only to find some irresponsible sophomore had spilled slip (extremely watery clay used to stick larger pieces of more solid clay together) all over my portfolio. At first I thought it was paint, so I was quite relieved, if nonetheless peeved, when it wiped off somewhat easily. That portfolio contains my life’s work.

I am in the process of drawing my shoe. This requires that I take my shoe off and set it in front of me in order to record the exact details and shadows. Try as I might, I could not fit both of my feet into my one remaining shoe, and I was left with some very chilly little toes for an hour and a half.

We performed an intricate test on the proportions of colors in M&M packages. As everyone knows, the company advertises its product to contain 30% brown, 20% of each red and orange, and 10% each or green and blue M&Ms. The teacher distributed one bag to every student, and we added up the number of each color as a class and then calculated several tests. One was a Chi Square statistic, which proved that candy corporations are dirty liars. We also tried a two proportion Z test, which resulted in a tiny P value well below any reasonable comparable alpha value. The test was, indeed, significant.

I ate my share of M&Ms without complaining.

Went to McDonalds for lunch and won a free apple pie for knowing that the op in Op Art stands for optical. What a reward. I didn’t eat it, however. The fries were my fat for the day.

Psych was interesting. We’re on the abnormal chapter, which means we will be expected to learn every disorder known to man for the test on Monday. Every personality disorder, sexual disorder, mood disorder, panic disorder, anxiety disorder, dissociative disorder, childhood disorder, etc. etc. The list is never ending. Several of them were quite interesting, however. Ever heard of Vaginismus? Me either, til today.

I found a wonderful book at the library, called Fasting Girls by Joan Jacobs Brumberg. It’s about the historical aspect of anorexia, one aspect of this disease that I am not familiar with. It’s fascinating so far, despite the outdated info (it was published in 1988) in some places. The author does not blame the media as much as she calls attention to the tendencies of women to behave a certain way as shown across time and similar cultures. I’ll keep my progress posted. So far I’m on the first chapter, Anorexia nervosa in the 1980s.

My parents convinced me to go out to dinner with them. We ended up at Perkins, where I ate an enormous salad covered with the ever-so-yummy fat free ranch dressing. I even ate the bowl it came in – luckily it was made out of bread, so my insides are still intact… for now.

My friend and musical co-conspirator shows up at my job today. we spend a couple of hours wandering around SoHo, Chinatown, the Village, and Washington Square Park. We notice at the park the large amount of cops and small amount of freaks.

Admittedly, it was cold today, especially for late April. But i'm thinking back to the Saturdays of my youth, really not so long ago, when the freak ratio seemed higher.

In 1994, some friends and i played at being performance artists, becoming living statuary on a triangle on 6th Ave north of 8th street. Today, there's a Pizzeria Uno and a Starbuck's down the block, and some upscale restaurant where a dirty old pizza place once was. The vibe wasn't there.. or was it just not visible to my eyes, clouded by seven years of cynicism?

We talked about the state of music these days (common enough fodder for struggling musicians, at any rate). The deaths of Kurt Cobain and Jerry Garcia, we thought, sealed the tomb of good music, or at least crippled it for a while. The deaths also came in the wrong order, said we, since if Garcia had died first, the happy freaks might have become angry freaks and turned to the angrier music of the other subculture, but there was little chance of the angry freaks getting happy and tripping out to the Dead.

The assassination of John Lennon was also a fateful blow to music, but it recovered. It took time, but it recovered. Who is left now, we wondered? So little music has the feel, the anymore...

Or maybe that was just the ramblings of two bitter musicians, released out into the world at the wrong time, angry at all that seems to have passed us by, scared of the future and depressed about the past.

But the world doesn't always seem as bright as it used to these days.

Jaubertmoniker is lying to you. I have been to the Acme in question, and they do indeed sell rocket-powered skates. They are located inbetween the bakery and the deli counter.

Honest, I saw them just today. I was in the Acme to pick up some Old Spice High Endurance. Just after I tripped one of the stock boys and accidentally kicked him in the nuts when I went to help him up, I saw them. Really!

Early morning sunrise; sun glaring in my face making it near-impossibe to type. My lungs are heavy, sleep is nowhere near coming. Too much on my mind that needs to be told before I yet again lose the patience to write it all out. I've actually managed to do a decent bit of writing today, so let's run with it.

Gather 'round, noders. I've the latest chapter in everyone's favourite E2 relationship saga, hot off the press!

Deeahblita, The Saint

Friday the 13th found me in Baltimore, a heavy weekend ahead of me. The air was supposed to be light on this particular night, but perhaps I should have brought my own candy. C'est la vie. Sobriety happens. Met a few people, ended up in bed early staring at a party lamp for an hour with a narcoleptic kitty cat beside me. Saturday I woke up, and found a recent pattern of meeting people naked developing. Strange life, though I will say I'm getting over my fear of raw fish. How's that for twisting words? *smirk*

Find Kir. Must find Kir. I kept buzzing that name around, insisting that if I was down there, I needed to meet this girl. I wanted to help, I intinctually knew I could help them both get the answers out. But I already knew the outcome. I already knew what she was going to say. That doesn't make it any easier for anyone involved, though. *sigh*

John Waters and instigated drama on #e to pass the time, along with words of wisdom and love from Kate to ease me, as I had no idea what to say to this girl, his wife. Decided that hugging her first would be ideal so I could get a dab of her energy, and try to inject a bit of mine into hers to tear an opening in the great wall. We all journey outside, as the smokers need a fix. I still don't know what to say. She leads the way.

Silence. Two that pass anger like water, and me, fire playing earth. Air, think Air. Space. Chase knarphie inside out of neccessity. I know his side of the story, I know how he feels. I know he's not emotionally ready to let go. And I know I won't be able to get her story unless he's gone. God it felt awful, but I had warned him long before that it was probably going to need to be this way. Doesn't make it feel any less like sitting on death row for him, though. If only I'd had a clone...If only I could have held him inside the house, inside my arms, petting him while I talked to her. But it needed to be this way.

I'm not certain how long she and I talked. I wasn't watching the clock, though the temperature dropped a few degrees and the pink candle placed between us let off no warmth. Conversation was cool, mostly sharp statements and reaffirmations. All this time in cryptic nodes, in blunt statements, in speech and action she'd tried to make it easy and push him away, to end it, to no avail. Parts of her still want to hold on. Love runs deep between them, that hasn't changed. I imagine a part of her is still in love with him, it's hard not to be. But that's been laid to rest, for now, for a long, long while. She's tired, her needs have changed. It's not that she gave up trying - her energy is drained, and her needs and path in life have significantly changed.

My intuition told me a week prior that after years of mutual lies, their night of truths sealed the book containing this part of their story. I shared this with her, and also reminded her of the time she told me that she knew things had changed when she kissed him at the airport some months earlier. She fought back tears a few times, echoing her own heartbreak repeatedly in chopped words. I held her for a minute, and we decided to bring knarphie out.

Silence. Neither of us knew where to begin, how to start. We stumbled through, alternating, eventually managing to spit out her decision. He was angry, angry that she was quitting, from his perspective. Hurt, angry, sad, betrayed, confused. They exchanged stories of fault, timelines, daggers and eventually a few joys, and I understood more of their history than I had in separate conversations with both of them over these months. Primarily, he couldn't understand how she could be all for working things out, and pro-poly one week, and then move back up to Baltimore and do a complete 360 and want to back out of everything the following week. It was all just another lie, from his perspective. I tried fruitlessly to convince him that on their night of truths, she truly believed it all. She knew she wanted it. The problem wasn't with the poly because, in her words, she was poly before him and she will continue to be poly after him. The problems were with them, and on top of that was the fact that she couldn't share him..wasn't willing to share him.

But why? Why, he kept asking? I was suddenly reminded of my recently ended long-term relationship with Danny. We started off with me cheating, with him mistrusting me. We didn't always see eye-to-eye on how to progress when I wanted to make a wet attempt at poly after all that time we'd spent healing. Apparently, he still wasn't really healed, wasn't ready. I think similarities come into play here, but that's not their entire story. They had grown apart, had never really been able to communicate their needs to one another....and that's rule number one in making poly making ANY relationship work.

There's no "time out" for them. It will unfortunately be a long time before they're at the point where they're even ready, as whole individuals, to start over. This even hurts *me*, because I see the love between them. But they don't see it in each other, and that's what counts the most. *sigh*

And now they must heal.

And I really wish that's where the story ended.
Deeahblita, The Sinner
should be noded tomorrow...


from Concerning Nemosyn

I saw you yesterday. You were shorter than I remembered, and for the first time I could see that your chin is crooked. Why could I not see that? When I studied your face so closely for so many years. I spoke to you in my mind and you did not hear.

It wasn't like that, Andrew. Nothing I said was real. It was all so careful, every word placed carefully to ensure total privacy of self.

It happened then, Andrew. You know when. When I changed, when I fell and twisted inside. In the cold days following you held me up, thinking one thing and avoiding the truth, that Other Thing that was between us and never between us.

Do you remember the day behind the book shelves when you took the tablets away from me? Or the day I sliced my wrist in class, under the desk and only you ever saw it, ever knew. And you didn't say a thing. Not a word. I liked that.

I laughed when I thought of the irony. It was hysterical, crazy laughter that should never have happened. My life had been taken away and I laughed at what you thought, that you believed I was so good and innocent. So very innocent. I did not know the words for what had happened. I had not labels for what I was doing. You did and you laughed, thinking it was all a lie. It was a lie, Andrew, but not in the way you thought. It was all a lie.

And now, in the time following, we speak as though none of that ever existed. You tell me about your girlfriend. I tell you about my year. You laugh and for the first time you are beyond me. You have reached the point where I no longer know what buttons to press to make you laugh or yell. I am gone from you, separated, whisked away by the horror of truth. You do not know. I speak to you in my mind and you do not hear.


Happy 420 to all the "High" Everythingians!
I'll most likely "celebrate" the occasion by simply chilling out and watching Saving Grace. Too bad my copy of Half Baked is still located somewhere in Otaniemi.

Due to several separate incidents, this week I have learned that being overrated by people sucks. While it's nice to have people believe in you, it's not a pleasant feeling to know that eventually you will let them down and prove to be a major disappointment. It makes me feel like a complete fake waiting to be detected. When people do not think much of you, at least there is the possibility to surprise them.
Bah. Maybe I could just use a healthy dose of self confidence. Which unfortunately isn't sold in 1kg bags in any stores around Hämeenlinna.

Forgetting the unconstructive feelings of being insufficient, things are quite peachy. How couldn't they be - it's Friday. I just have to decide what projects of mine I should concentrate on for the 2.5 days. The international herbal remedies day may somewhat limit my rate of activity tonight, but then again I am almost out of party materials.. :)


Last night, WAY too late to affect anything... I finally finished a random Everything University-related babble about something title-related.

That is all.

Today, I woke up late again. Not as late as usual. I just hope this has no negative effects on anything.

Time to face the challenges of the day...


Went to the town, checked out the library (got some more Elfquest albums), and found a really interesting book from a bookstore...

I also saw one virus book that was surprisingly interesting. I've never seen equally twisted description of the Great Worm, for example. Damn, I didn't feel like borrowing that book, but that desc needs to be put here someday... It was strange.

Other day logs o' mine...

Noded today by y.t.: pick titles carefully Century Tekstarit

The day grows weary on me today, both physically and mentally. My mind is tired, feeling old, feeling the effects of time. Lack of rest isn't good for the mind nor the body. Insomnia still hasn't wrested its grip off me and my drugs don't work unless it involves alcohol, even then it is more dangerous. But even then, maybe a few hours of sleep is worth the risk.

The night again falls upon us, a blanket of stars and sky. Sitting outside, I adjust my glasses. They're still bent. My buddy bent them way back when we played some basketball in the evening. It was still slightly drizzling, and I wasn't wearing a jacket this time. I wanted to catch cold. I wanted a day off and call in sick or something. But I need to pay my phone bill so I knew that I had to go back. I stood there, for about an hour after my friend called my cell phone. It was about 5 am and I sat there until 6 am. I watched the sun rise from behind the high rises in my neighborhood, and saw as the sky changed from a dark navy blue to a slight yellowish glaze. My eyes begin to get sore from the increase of light, so I go back inside.

I close my eyes and press my hands together and say a silent prayer. I hear myself breathing and shuffle until the blood in my body becomes uniform. I couldn't sleep so I left my computer on, with my ballads playing in the winamp. When 6:30 came, I was half asleep, just slightly wavering from the melodies of the music. Subsequently, my vision blurred, and the void claimed my consciousness.

She called me this morning. Ring. 9 am. Hello. Who's this?. I'm not a morning person so I have very rude telephone manners. Who else is it?. I was afraid of that. I've never been so glad and afraid to hear someone's voice in my whole life. We spoke for a while, trying to mend old wounds, trying to rejuvinate flames and develop trust lost long ago. Inadvertantly, she started creying. With each sniffle, I shuddered at the spine. I could almost see the tears running down her cheek or the way she's holding the stuffed animal I gave her so long ago. Everything with her seemed so long ago. It's sort of weird when someone tells you that they want you to control them so that you can trust them once again. There is that uncertainty that they are simply doing this until you break your control then they will break your trust again. Besides, I know that nothing in life is fair. Even karma can't be completely fair. Reluctantly, I said my goodbyes and turn off my cell phone. I close my eyes once again, and I fall back asleep, with an image of her face in my mind....

I wake up later in the afternoon and already the day grows weary to me. Due to my lack of mobile transportation, I had to resort to grabbing a courtesy shuttle bus to the Richmond Auto Mall to get to Jacombs road by Ikea. It seemed like a good idea until the driver glared at me. Maybe he glared because I was wearing a bandana and sunglasses. 20 minutes later, I get off the bus. I walk slowly towards work as I was almost an hour early. With my discman in my pocket and the sun high up in the sky, I took my time. Again, being alone, having time to think, is a bad thing as one starts thinking. When the slow songs starts playing on my discman, I found myself mouthing the words. By the time I got to work, I needed a bloody kleenex. Sweet merciful crap.

I got to work with about 45 minutes until I started so I sat outside. People were smoking their cigarettes and I sat alone on the other table. I put the headphones on and started thinking. The sun, out in full forece, beat down on my yellow skin. As I sat, people came back inside and left me alone. I began staring out at the cars parked outside. The sudden noises of a passing airplane or the slight sweating from my arm due to the heat made the day relaxing as it has been the whole day. Sip by sip, I drank my Diet Pepsi, refreshing my parched throat. Serves me right for singing to myself.

I breathe deeply the spring air and detect the slight hint of the coming summer. Most people say that summer is the time for fun and spiritual renewal but I don't look forward to it. It has always been a season of both bitter and sweet memories. As I began pondering back, I let my focus wander onto the UPC symbol on my pop bottle. At least that is something I'm sure will not change within the next day or so. Security. It gave me security. It made me smile.

Work passed like a breeze, with no bad customers and an overabundance of workers on the floor. I didn't have much trouble with anything there so I actually had time to talk to my co-workers. They were surprised that I could actually talk. Afterwards, I head on home.

After a quick game with Dawadeving of Brood War, I find myself here again at night. I sat outside my balcony again. I'm trying to make a groove for my butt in the astroturf in the balcony. I started thinking again, and this time, there wasn't a UPC symbol to save me.

There were moments in the day when I felt as if I'm getting out of this funk but time and time again, I fell back into the festering pit of self-degradation. I head inside to my little outcove to grab my photo album. I started looking back at my old pictures and saw the happiness then, before I had any real responsibilities. Now, no longer a child, I suffer growing pains. Not willing to ascend to adulthood, I turn back to live in the innocence filled days of the past. As they say, you can't know where you're going without knowing where you have been. The problem is that while I know where I've been, I just don't know where I'm supposed to go. WIthout a guide, I wander aimlessly, hoping that I find my way, lest be swallowed up by my own self-wallowing. Finally, I'm here. In the dark. Alone. Just the way its been since I've longed remember. I breathe deeply, and take my time to exhale...

I look over the ledge and see the depth of the abyss. I take one step forward and feel no resistance on the ground. I hear no sound other than the beating of my heart and the filling of my lungs. I look inside and only find darkness. I hold my arms out and jump. I do not fear the abyss. May I be lost in it so I no longer feel what it feels to be alive...

I hardly did any work yesterday. I am still in that very strange space, where I don't really care, I don't feel like working, and no one is going to find out, so I will continue to do as little as possible.

I went to my OA meeting as usual on Thursday nights. I spoke, the words seemed chaotic and meaningless to anyone who isn't me. For some reason, whatever I said resonated with several people, because they came up to me after and hugged me and thanked me for saying it. It's always when I don't know what I'm talking about that people appreciate it the most.

But after enduring a year, a YEAR, of horrid, intensive, EMDR and other mixed media therapy, I have to realize that there is a lot of work yet ahead of me. I'm not integrated. I just don't have people anymore. I have to grow up now, and I have a long, difficult year ahead of me, possibly more, and how if I don't then I will slip backwards, not stay stable, so I have little choice in the matter, if I ever want to truly live, and not just survive the remainder of my short life.

By the way, I've been to that ACME too, and I saw kmcardle deliberately, and without provocation kick that stock boy in the nuts on purpose.

a footnote - I made level 4 today after a mad noding spree! Whee hee! thanks for the support, NothingLasts4Ever! You are the Italian Stallion!
It always baffles me, when people ask me for things. These people don't know me.....reputation is a strange feeling downtown. Not much hate, but illegal seems to be the way of my walk. Someone I didn't know bought me a shot of JD last night. Made me happy, KD filled my glass most of the night due to my broken bank account. I played 3 Lil' Putos at the bar, I haven't heard that tune since high school. The jukebox stopped in my second song, for the live band to start playing.......a funky little jam band with a whiteboy rapper. Basically sounded like crap I hear on MTV, the sad thingis: it isn't crap. This band had obviously practiced, a lot. The problem with this is, hip hop needs to recognize it's origin. Not reflect New York if pumping outta Austin, fucking reflect Austin! Oh well?

My second first is in the red, reminds me of why I am writing less and less on E2. Here's my grocery list for today:

It's misting today on the Southern Oregon coast. Not really rain, yet more than fog, mist is my favorite weather. Walking out from a dry, sterile office, the mist sprinkles my skin with tiny splatters of life. I close my eyes and just feel the mist brush against my face and I remember that I am alive.

When you find me like this
In between
On one knee
But not exactly fallen

Do not help

Do not approach me, hands outstretched
To aid me back to stability
And lack of prostration

But rather let me 


For how can I
Stand up straight and proud

When what 
I should really do is

Today, April 20, 2001, was another chapter in my detestment and hatred of filtering systems.

Somewhere along the pipe, some moron felt that deserved to be blocked, so they added it to BESS's not-allowed list. Supposedly things go from unbanned to banned (pending local review, as opposed to n2h2 review), as opposed to banned then unbanned.

Apparently some prick along the line felt that everything2 was offensive to them (and undoubtedly, them alone) and decided that no one should be able to see the site.

In IE, that is. Our little linux box could load the site fine, in Lynx. Didn't try Netscape, but chances are it would have worked.

As of 12:55 PM CST, the site isn't blocked anymore. That's a good thing too, I was in the middle of something when BESS became a bitch and said "Bess can't go there"

To hell with all proponents of filtering and censorship. It is a contradiction of thought, and of liberty, regardless of who practices it.

It's now 4:31 PM, and the filter is long since gone. A total of less than 1 hour. Too damn long, if you ask me.

My theory stems from how our district (Pulaski County Special Schools District, in Arkansas) is set up. It's divided at the source into two routes, filtered and unfiltered. Our school is normally on unfiltered (as a result of much hellraising by my 11th Grade AP English/EAST teacher, and many others).
Apparently they needed to do some work on the unfiltered line, and moved us over to the filtered line, much to my disgust. I'd rather have had none, than had it but censored. Seeing Bess telling me where I can and cannot go is the equivalent to kicking me down, kicking me in the face, and telling me I don't know shit.

Fuck Bess, maybe I'll run the damn bitch over someday.

And fuck you N2H2, and all that you represent.

Well I don't believe it, a geek with a date to the senior prom... I never thought i'd see it but luckily enough it happened to me. And shes even pretty damn hot too. So instead of me sitting on my ass noding while everyone is at the prom, I'll actually be at the prom having fun. Now the only problem is, I have to find a tux that fits a 6'7" 300 lbs guy, not to mention size 17 black dress shoes, with a week to do it...

Also, I have my college orientation tommorow (sweet), im so glad im gonna be moving out of my house... its going to be fuckin April 20th everyday when i get out :)

Unfortunatly, I have to spend the day sober because I have a drug test coming up... The only day of the year when its ok to be high... and i spend it sober... what the hell is wrong with me?

For some reason, I find it fitting that I should do my first ever true day log today. I guess it's because I'm finally happy for many, many reasons. I've been happy in many ways for quite some time, but I have finally found a job where I will not hate every fucking minute of every god damned day. I'm used to working in call centers, doing tech support for external customers. Now I'm actually working in an internal IS department supporting about 200 employees. This job is soooo much easier and soooo less stressful than being a phone slave expected to spend every second chained to a desk.

Now I finally have a job where I'm not completely drained of all energy by the end of the day. Believe it or not, talking on a phone constantly can be very tiring. It's like flipping burgers in your brain. I will never do that bullshit again. I hope. Of course, this is only the end of my first week, but by what I've experienced so far, this is going to be cool. I'm not getting paid that much, but I'm making enough to support myself and the woman I love. That's really all that matters, although I don't mind a little extra spending money...

I never got the significance of this 420 bullshit. Every explanation as to why it's associated with pot has been shown to be a lie or at least an exaggeration. I'm sure it's been said a million times, but Hitler was born on 4/20... I've never found that I need any particular excuse to smoke pot. It's one of my favorite activities, and I can say that proudly and not give a fuck what anybody thinks, because every stinking human being is a hypocrite in some way or another, including myself. Damn, it's good to have some peace of mind. Being unemployed sucks. Being unemployed involuntarily for disciplinary reasons sucks even more. It's a long story, but it left me pretty depressed for about a month (not because I was in the wrong in any way, I just have a tendency to obsess about things until I want to explode into a firey rage of annihilation), and now I'm fucking thrilled to all motherfucking cocksucking hell that I got fired, because this is 100000 times better. Sorry for the excessive profanity, by the way, I just feel like being a potty-mouthed prick, this being a day log and all...

I lost my last job after developing a very bad relationship with the highermost supervisor. I pointed out his mistakes too regularly, and took his attempts to be "buddy buddy" with everyone as permission to speak freely...never assume. I was actually fired because he heard me on the phone saying something inappropriate, after hanging up with a customer. To be honest, I don't know what it was, but I did often say mean shit directly into my microphone hoping that he was listening. I made fun of his name...I said "I hate this fucking job..." I was a vulgar bastard, but never to any customers or any employees who didn't want to experience such things. I was asking for it, but too chicken-shit to quit and unemploy my damn self. All I needed was one more IT job to plop on my resume, where I wasn't actually FIRED. It looks a lot better that way. Happiness rules. Most of my depression came from the fact that I know every job interviewer is going to ask why I left my last job, especially when I was there just under a year. My first interview was with Priority One Safety (I wanted to "try something different"). It turned out to be a total fucking hoax, see the node. I was so happy at first, because during the "interview" she never asked what happened with my last job. My second interview was with this company. I dreaded the inevitable. I rehearsed my explanation many times. I had it down. My current supervisor asked what happened, and I explained...and he responded in kind: "I know what that's like. In a call center, it's like FUCK THIS, FUCK THAT, AND FUCK YOU." A feeling of relief washed over me, and I was instantly so relaxed that I did the best damned interview of my life. He's more profane than I am. It almost makes me blush. He says "motherfucker" in a hilarious way. Being able to node at work is great.

Just I'll get creamed on the highway on my way home...

Had no intention of writing a day log...and then
I read lordaych's..

In it he mentioned the seeming significance of the 420 bullshit

Well, I really wasn't familiar with I followed the 420 hard link, only to discover that one theory has it that 420 seems to be the ideal time to smoke pot, a.m. or p.m., doesn't matter.. propagated by either Grateful Dead fans or phish fans... and then I remembered that this very day, when I got off work at approximately 4:20, I found a roach in my ash tray..and I smoked that baby..

it was 4:20; I know it's crazy, but.....

Hey, wow. Suprise. Everything Right is Wrong Again

After a incredibly cheery week last week, my karma finally caught up:

  • She hasn't emailed me back. And I felt so good about taking the risk. All I want is a fucking answer.

  • Fucked up my car, badly. Turned the corner I've turned 200 times before out of my alley, but this time I put my right rear door into the SUV whose arse was hanging out a little farther than normal. Dented the shit out of the door and part of the body. Good news: the door still works, and no damage was done to the SUV.

  • Differential Equations test was fucked. Yet another class I'm going to do poorly in. At least I'm consistent.

  • This Guiness is bitter.

Interesting thoughts: well, had the second counseling session this afternoon. Still kinda strange. The hypothesis that this guy put forth was that perhaps I'm avoiding close relationships because I had so many broken throughout my youth. I'm unsure if this is true, but it would be an interesting way to explain my alienation at this college. Then again, my eagerness to embrace this easy explanation is probably a cop-out. Easier to explain it as something that happened to me as a kid than explain it as "I just don't think to be social with most people." sigh. The other interesting thought was that I need to learn to accept that which is out of my control. If there's one thing the breakup last year taught me is that I am severely unhappy when I don't know the reasons for something happening which has an impact on my life. Once I knew the reason, everything made sense and I was happy. At least, until all that shit up there happened. Perhaps I could be happier with respect to item 1 if i could accept that some things are inexplicable or out of my control.

Blah Blah Blah. Thanks for listening to me get it out in an attempt to feel better about life.

Noding for the ages? Nope.

time |               |
   8 | n n n       * |
     | o o o   *   * |
     |         *   * | 4-18: 4:30am-9:30am - 5   
     | d d d   *   * | 4-19: 3:00am-10:30am - 7.5
     | a a a   *   * | 4-20: 3:00am-8:30am - 5.5 
     | t t t   * * * | 4-21: 1:45am-9:45am - 8   
     | a a a * * * * |    
     |       * * * * |    
     |       * * * * |    
     |       * * * * |
   3 |       * * * * |
     |               |
       s m t w t f s

I thought to myself on the way down I-95 this evening; it really is a travesty to be dissed, sober and alone on 4/20.

I had hoped by the time I wrote this, I could say "But at least I'm not sober." Fortunately or unfortunately, that never happened. But on the way back up, I was thinking; well damn, at least I've got some damn good friends and I wasn't busted on CDS today.

This 420 started off on a great note. I taught myself how to parse XML under PHP, and wrote a decent node on PHP parser code for the nodelist XML so that everyone else can benefit from my labors.

As midnight broke over the EDT zone, I agonized over whether 4/20 could be a sort of amnesty day, where I could forget about my sins for a few hours and indulge myself in spite of my promise to abstain from such things for a while. After much considering, and conversation with friends, I came to my decision and . . .

Well, that's a secret. Does it really matter? (Nosy...)

Dawn broke, and let me tell you: any day where I get to drive 60 miles with the sunroof open and the windows down for every single one of them definately rates at the top of my list. I'm hoping that 360 miles next weekend will be just as good.

Spent the day creating and tidying up a bunch of Intranet applications, just like I do every day, sent a big batch of e-mails to remind some crazy people about next weekend, and went home to shower up and have my first F2F meeting with a local girl I met a few weeks ago by e-mail.

On the way back home, I got a chance to have an American Beauty moment at 40 miles per hour as a silver birthday baloon raised over the sound wall, hovered about 30 feet over the pavement and danced across the Beltway in front of me. Sometimes it's the little things that cheer me up.

But, as they say, "And then I got . . . dissed."

I'm out on the porch with the laptop ready to leave whenever she tells me she's ready, when suddenly, something comes up. Again. Will you hate me? No, I said, I'm just going to think that you're stringing me along. She logs off. While discussing my bad fortune online, my good friend invites me over for a few beers.

Once I got there we realized we had to go to the Home Despot to prepare, so by the end of the evening, with the liquor stores closed and the supermarkets still open, they wound up being Root Beers. Ah well, that's the sort of lovely irony that 4/20 provides.

The evil irony on the other hand, is handling the fact that someone you know got busted for the first time ever today. And so young too. I can only hope and pray that things turn around for him, because I'm powerless to do anything else.

Right before I went to sleep, I stumbed onto the sinnocence webcam site, where the author wrote today:

"It is 4/20... and if you are a retarded jackass. YOU CARE."


Mmm, one day, two exams, three subjects.

Thermodyamics/Fluid Mechanics was just plain horrible, although many people were leaving early - some after just twenty minutes. (it was a two hour exam).

A little break, a little studying, a little chat with someone I hadn't seen for quite a while, and it was back to the Hunter Halls for a Management test. This was the only one I'd really bothered to do much work for, because it's the only subject in which I could get an exemption. Here's hoping I got the necessary 71%...

My gran was due to be coming over for dinner, so I chose to avoid her and stay out for the evening. I headed back to someone's flat with a few friends. We got pizza from Nico's and watched The Simpsons and planned the night ahead. It was to be a few hours at the GU, followed by a trip to town.

Trouble was, even though I really really felt like going out, I was too tired. I think my jumping around on Wednesday and running around on Thursday did it to me. So I had to make my excuses at about 11, and wandered down to get a bus home.

One thing I've yet to figure out is how First Glasgow route 59 is consistently full of complaining old people. This journey in particular had the addition of a drunk guy having an argument with himself, and some people being noisy and smoking upstairs.

But the complaining old people. First it was the buses, being half an hour late. Then the census. "How many people will be in the house on April 29th? Och, I don't know." The young people of today, terrible, aren't they. Drugs. If you're found in possesion of them you should be executed. At this point, I was considering joining in the discussion, but alas, it was my stop.

For the interested (that would be matilda, methinks :), la chica couldn't make it out to join me for a drink, for slightly dubious reasons. But I think I'll trust her for now. And maybe try again next weekend...

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