On this day 113 years ago, Adolf Hitler was born. It was also on this day, 41 years ago, that my father was born.

And being the darling daughter I am, I had spent the previous week downloading and burning 11 Weird Al Yankovic cd's as a birthday present. Last year I completely forgot what date the occasion was and he ended up with no birthday wishes from his two daughters. This meant this year had to be twice as great, to make up for missing the big 4-0!

Heh, wishful thinking. Last night as I was noding my ears met a huge bang, followed by the sound of a lightbulb exploding. Up I jumped...

SHIT! MY COMPUTER!

I darted to the power point in less then 2 seconds and dived for the switch, turning it off at lightning speed. My heart was racing -- if I lost my computer I'd be completely and utterly SCREWED. I've known many people who've experienced power surges and had computers that ended up useless.

BANG!

Within 5 seconds of the first bang, a second sounded and the power went out. I will not lie -- I was shit scared. It was all so sudden! And although I first suspected it was a power surge, I'd never had one before and was later beginning to suspect it was part of the devious plot of some weirdo about to murder me. Dad was out at his girlfriend's house for the night and I was alone in this cold pitch black house.

The torch... there must be a torch around here...

And tactfully avoiding the shattered glass on the floor, I found that torch. I made my way over to the phone but it was dead. Everything was dead. I peered out the window and found that everything belonging to my neighbours was dead too. Phew, at least there ain't no serial killer. But without power I had nothing to do! Although, it was 1 in the morning and I should've be heading to bed soon anyway.

The next morning I was awoken at 9am by the sound of banging on the front door. All our friends know we only use the backdoor to our house, so it must have been a stranger at the door. Bang Bang Bang! Ring ring! Grrr... whoever it was had found the old doorbell. There was no way out of it, I had to go around to the front of the house and greet the stranger. In my pyjamas. Ick.

"Hi, I'm here to fix your power." The stranger, a middle aged man with a bald patch, gave me a warm smile.

"Ahhh great! What exactly happened?"

He cleared his throat. "Last night a guy hit a power pole. Alot of the houses in the area lost their power last night... I'm just going to replace a few fuses and hope that works, ok?"

I nodded and waited for a brief moment.

"Alright," he said with a hint of kindness, "If you could just go inside and check all your electrical appliances and tell me if they work, that'd be great."

"Yup." And I ran in the house and checked the only thing that mattered -- my computer! It worked! It was alright! I had saved it! A wave of joy had come over me, and I ran back outside.

"Everything's fine! Thanks so much!" It wasn't the truth, but hey, aslong as the computer worked, I was happy!

His face gave off the impression of disbelief. "Er, you sure everythings fine? Is your stove working?"

"We have gas." I informed him, still bearing that mile wide grin.

"Well, thats one happy customer. Sorry about the inconvienience." Once again he smiled and walked off, but this time I wasnt sure if he was pleased with the fact I told him all our appliances were working, or that I was unaware I had unintentionally left one of the middle buttons of my pyjamas open, revealing more than anyone needed to see.

So anyway, I went inside and decided to really make sure the surge didn't damage any of our appliances.

Bugger. The tv wouldn't work, the lighting was screwed, the heater, fan to the fireplace, fan in the bathroom, microwave, tape and cd player, microwave and the whole electrical circuit in the loungeroom was now not functioning. Gee, I thought, dad's gonna be real pleased! In the end he wouldn't foot the bill, but the inconvience to follow was the last thing anyone needed.

9:15pm, I rang dad up. Told him the whole story. Listened to him groan about it. He told me he'd be home in an hour. Then I remembered it was his birthday. He wouldn't be able to play his Weird Al cd's on his cd player for a while. Heh.

He came home, called the sparky, sorted out the damage with some sort of inspector and was told he wouldn't be able to get repairs done for a month if he wanted the energy company to foot the bill. He didn't look happy; I'd be surprised if anyone was happy about the situation. But these things happen from time to time, it was just unfortunate that on all days it had to happen on this one.

"Do you remember that family on A Current Affair that had to give up their tv for a few weeks?" I asked. "And how I kept poking fun at them?" He burst out laughing. It was nice seeing him laugh. We were that family now, but we had no tv for a MONTH. I know I'll cope, I use my computer a heap more than the tv. Dad on the otherhand... well... he'll have to find some otherway to pass the time.

Dad went out to his parents after that. When he came back to drive me to my netball game, I told him I felt sorry about his shitty start to his birthday. Every year just gets worse, I've come to expect it, he muttered. Damn thats depressing, I thought.

"My dad told me about this farm up in the country, near Yea. I'm thinking about buying it." He paused and looked at me. "I'd sell my house and go live up there."

He dropped the Bombshell. Argh fucking fucked up fuck! THE COUNTRY?! I ONLY MOVED IN WITH YOU TWO AND A HALF MONTHS AGO AND NOW YOU WANT TO MOVE US TO THE COUNTRY?! These thoughts ran through my brain. He's joking. He has to be. He loves to stir me.

"Tell me you're joking." I ordered in a serious tone. I'm a city girl at heart. I love the city. I hate this stupid country and its dry outback. The grass isn't even grass out there! Everytime you drive your car it leaves a trail of dust behind! It's not for me! "If you move out to the country, I'm moving back in with my grandparents. I'm not changing schools and I'm not changing neighbourhoods."

"I'm not joking." He laughed. He was forever telling me that no one took him seriously when he was telling the truth, yet they always fell for his jokes. The question now was, which one was it? "I'm going to take a look tomorrow. It's about $700,000." (around about $350-400k US) For the rest of the car trip I bitched and whined, pleaded for him to change his mind and to not go. I asked him about his friends. He raised his middle finger. I brought up his business (he does office partitions). He said work was slowing down and it was time to give it up. I enquired to what his girlfriend, Kerrie, would say.

"Fuck Kerrie! She's too fucking selfish." One of the things I love about my dad is that he's serious and mature when he needs to be, but has the heart of a teenager. He'll swear around me, let me swear, buy me Bacardi Breezers and let me stay up on the computer all night, if thats what I want to do. However, it slowly became clearly to me that he was unhappy with his life these days and needed the change of lifestyle. This was not good. After being kicked out of my mother's home when I was 12, I invited myself to live at my grandparent's home. While I was there I was treated like a princess, with the oldies acting as though they were my slaves. I felt guilty. It felt wrong. So at the end of February, one year after I had moved in, I left my grandparents and did what I should have done in the first place. I moved in with my dad. Since then I've had the time of my life, and it was now clear that I might be about to lose it all.

For those who care, my team lost the netball match by 7 goals. The outcome of the game seemed irrelevant to me, all I could do was think about the whys and what ifs. What if my grandparents decided they did not want to take me back? Would I be forced to go back to my mother's home, and relive the years of emotional and physical abuse of my childhood? Chances are she would not allow me back in her home. That was fine by me. When I left, I told her I would never come back to live. I intend to fulfill that promise, although I am certain I will one day regret the bitterness we held between each other.

In order to dispose the confusion and stress, I spent a couple of hours playing Sim City 3000. Dad went out to Matthew Flinders, a sort of family restaurant/pub/nightclub/poker machine venue all rolled into one. At 7pm he rang home, asking me if I wanted to eat dinner with him there. I told him yes, and he came back home 5 minutes later to pick me up. As I heard the car pull up I rushed outside and found my father talking to a man and a woman in their mid twenties. It turns out they are our new neighbours, Peter (which is also my dad's name) and Mary-Anne. Peter is a minister, and they're living in a home owned by the church two doors down. They were robbed today, sometime in the afternoon. Which was ironic, seeing the power surge resulted in their VCR not being able to properly function, it was one of the items stolen.

We had a brief chat and I found that they were extremely kind. Mary-Anne had around her a strong feeling of warmth and kindness. Peter was a very easy going guy with a great sense of humour. I decided that I really liked these people.

The conversation came to an end and my father and I drove to Matthew Flinders. We were greeted by two of his friends when he arrived, Michael and his Chinese girlfriend, who I will refer to as Yu, as I couldn't quite hear her when she introduced herself.

"Is this... this girlfriend?" Yu asked my father, pointing to me. She was not fluent in English and searched for the correct words to form her sentence, but we still understood what she meant.

My father laughed. "Oh no, she's my daughter!" He glanced at me and joked, "Now you know why they call me Peterphile!"

Michael was an Irish man, 49 years of age and bald. At the time of our introduction he was slightly tipsy and continually laughed at his own unfunny jokes. He was kind to me though. He asked what I studied. I said I was in Year 9. Wha? He had heard me right.

"Yes, I'm still in High school. I'm in year 9, I've still got a while to go."

He took a sip of his beer. "Oh my, I thought you were a university student!" The comment was flattering, although the man was intoxicated by this point and I made a mental note not to take anything he said too seriously. He kept looking at my boobs. That sucked, he's 49. And drunk. *shudder*

Around this time dad decided to call his girlfriend to see if she was going to show up. They briefly argued, she said she wouldn't turn up if a certain so and so was their, and he said that if he loved her she would come. He would dump her if she didnt celebrate his birthday with him because she didn't like one of his friends. He told her to come at 9pm if she really wanted to keep their relationship intact.

Yu and I connected well at that place. I learned from her that she had a strict Chinese upbringing, had married once and gave birth to two boys, but her husband left her for someone much younger as she approached her middle years. She told of how she believed a woman's role in this world was to care for her family, that my father should stop feeding me take-away food 6 nights a week and teach me how to cook, and girls in China during her time were treated as lesser beings in relation to boys. She was a shy character yet very warm. I liked her.

The highlight of the night however, was seeing my dad at his drunk state. Oh, the humour in seeing my father paying 6 children $1 each to go into the pokie room to play on the 'Big bright machines'!. Its even more funny when the bouncer notices the children in the room, freaks out and sends them back to their families.

I'm only 14-years-old. Dad freely offered me alcohol that night but I declined, due to the fact that this was a night I wanted to remember when I woke up the next morning. He joked about sneaking me into the nightclub and keeping all the guys who tried to hit on me away. Michael and Yu almost successfully snuck me in to the pokies room until my father told them I'd get caught, and I agreed that I wasn't up to the risk.

Good things must come to an end. Daddy drove me home at 10:30. His girlfriend never turned up.

"Looks like your father is single again." He announced, sounding rather pleased with that word. Single. Free of so many limits he had imposed on him for years. To hell with the possessive, self-centered girlfriend he had been meaning to ditch for months. I think I was happy too. Happy that my father was now happy again, which made me think about that dreaded country lifestyle.

He pulled into our driveway and came inside for a minute before he went back. I made a phone call to one of my closest friends, Rosie, to organise our plans for the next day and to let everything off my chest about the whole farm idea. As I was talking to her on my phone line, Dad's rang. Caller ID said 'payphone'. He knew it was Kerrie.

He reluctantly picked up that phone, engaged in a brief argument with her and told her it was over. She said that she was going to go there now, which shits me because she wouldn't make the effort before. Rosie heard my dad in the background of our conversation and I filled her in, letting her know all the juicy details. My dad went back to Matthew Flinders and I ended my phone call with Rosie. This is the point where I started this writeup.

Halfway through this my dad came stumbling through the open door, drunk as anything!

Giggling like a school girl, he told me what events unfolded soon after I left. "Stupid cow! I let down ALL of her tires except ONE." He raised up one finger as he said this.

"Whoa dad slow down... who's tires?"

"Kerrie! She threw a beer on me... can ya see?" He showed me his unbuttoned black shirt, which appeared slightly damp. "So I threw one back on her! And got kicked out!!" The giggles kept coming. "And then I let down all of her car tires! Except one!"

"Dad, you are SO dead!!!"

"Yeah, but now you can come to Queensland with me if you want. No fuckin way am I going with her now!" Way cool. They planned a holiday there from May 1st to 7th, perfect timing for me to miss the school's cross country carnival (YES!)

I couldn't stop laughing. I love my dad. Together we're the Gilmore girls, even though he's a male. I'm Rory. Rosie always tells me I'm just like Rory, personality wise. Perhaps thats true, but my dad is Lorelie. Witty, with a take no shit attitude and damn funny!

I remember 7th grade vividly: my first girlfriend, my first taste of junior high, my first realization that I was, forever and ever, going to be different. Tonight I chaperoned my sister's seventh grade dance, and it brought back so many memories:

I saw myself there, the tall one who stuck out. I saw my ex-girlfriend, chatting up all the boys and coyly smiling. I saw life as it was...

I also saw some punk trying to start a mosh pit: bashed the kid's head in. Ah, the sweet innocence of memories...

Dammit.

I should have known better. Stupid online journals. Yes, I am a glutton for punishment, and here all the thoughts are again. She's with him and I'm not with her, but by my decision. I am with a wonderful, wonderful person, so why won't she get out of my mind? The haunting of my mind with thoughts of her is killing me. Thinking of the dream we had, the thoughts of us saving ourselves for the other, gone, knowing what they are doing because she told me. Knowing it is all gone forever.

Dammit.

I just want to run back to her, save her from him, tell her not to do that, that the dreams and the love and the log cabin by the lake can still be there, and all the plans can still be there, and just don't do that just come back don't go don't go don't go.

But I'm the one who went, so the point is moot.

So I emailed her. We have been exchanging hellos, how are yas, etc. But I emailed her. Told her I couldn't anymore. She is happy where she is, and I need to start being happy where I am at or else the urge to just drive off the road into a tree is going to be too strong. And even though people call me young, 23 is too old to be having thoughts like that. I have a life. I have a career. I have a wonderful, wonderful girlfriend who will be down in just two weeks. And I am not going to risk all of that again for her. I can't afford it. I'll lose her if I don't lose her.

So begone rain clouds and storms. It's time for the sun to shine and me to claim what is mine. Happiness.

Tonight, I had to break off a romantic relationship with a man I am awfully fond of and who I am actually quite attached to. I didn't really want to end it, but given the turn my life has abruptly taken continuing things would be deeply unfair to him.

He's funny, smart, sweet, sexy, and a damned fine human being. He would make a good husband and an excellent father, and I hope Fate has a family life in store for him. I don't want to be the sour cherry on a cake of failed relationships that drives him to bury himself in his work and hobbies and forget about trying to find his lady love.

I wish I could fix him up. (Anyone know a smart, single, liberal Midwestern woman who enjoys science fiction, cats, literature, NPR, opera, and especially auto racing? Drop me a message.) I know the sentiment might seem arrogant or naive ... but when I break something I want to try to replace it, you know? And I broke this relationship.

I also hope very much that we can be "just" friends.

I hope this of all my dating relationships. I don't get into a romantic relationship in the first place if I wouldn't want to have the person as a very close friend. I always hope that, when it's all said and done, you can still share life and laughter with a person you care about and once shared a bed and dreams of the future with.

And I know that it's a tall order; the people I count as real friends are gold to me, but sometimes there's so much pain at the end of the relationship that the best thing to do is just walk away.

I've been there. I know in excruciating detail what it's like to be the one who's madly in love, then gets dumped with a cheery "let's just be friends". You latch onto those words like a drowning person grabbing for a life preserver. You're too in love to be angry for anything your beloved does, so besotted the thought of never seeing your beloved again seems worse than death. And living in the shadow of the love you crave like air and water is better than not having that love at all, isn't it?

Yes, we can just be friends, you think. I can be cool. I'll be the best friend ever. Supportive. Understanding. Ready for any crisis. And he'll realize how cool I really am, and he'll come back to me. This thing with this new girl, it's just a phase. He'll come around.

The months pass, and you learn to smile and be cool while you watch your beloved go out on dates, dance, kiss. You get to hear about how the new girl fucks. And you learn that the bitter saltwater well inside a broken heart is truly bottomless.

And you go insane from the pain or you walk away.

But it isn't always like that, and saying that you want to be "just" friends with a former lover doesn't have to be a sad, cliched blow-off disguised as caring.

I'm still friends with my high school sweetheart. He's living 2,000 miles away and is married with three kids. We went through heaven and hell together, and we grew up together. He's turned into a wonderful man and I'm glad a platonic adult relationship sprouted in the ashes of our turbulent adolescent love. We give each other windows to our pasts and possible futures that no other kind of friends really could.

I haven't always been able to stay friends with ex-lovers; the kicker is, of course, that it takes two people to maintain a friendship. Will my newly ex-boyfriend and I succeed as friends? Maybe. He says he wants to try.

I hope this is the start of something beautiful.

I'm sitting on the floor of my dorm room on a pile of blankets, slumming the 'net at 3 am. It's one of those days where my lofted bed makes me claustrphobic so i'm sleeping on the floor amongst a lovely nest of bedding. I'm sipping a tasty blend of vodka, grape juice and sprite of all things, and realizing that i'm, after all, happy.

Life's not as bad as it seems sometimes. I've got friends--good friends, and ones i think for once are true. I can talk to them about things that matter to me, and they talk back. They trust me. I can talk about anything to them, and they listen--not judge and not walk away. They tell me they'll be here for me for GOOD, and for once i believe them.

My grades for once are good. This is going to be the first semester i haven't failed any class since i've been in college. I still haven't put in my change of degree papers, but i should be able to do that in the next week. It looks like i've got 3 B's and a C for the semester, unless i bomb or ace a final. I'm satisfied. I've never been more than a straight B student, and the one class i've got lower than that in is psych, a class so designed to weed out students that literally half the 300 student class is failing. I've worked my butt off in communications and amd pulling a good B in it. I hate public speaking more than ANYTHING so i'm quite happy.

I'm about to apply for a summer job i REALLY want--working on a functional re-enactment 1800's ranch in the texas hillcountry. I hate this century, i love the past, and above all i'm a texas history buff, so i'll be thrilled if i get this job. I finally got the app today in the mail. And to have a summer job that lets me play with horses is just what i want. And the bset part is, if i get this job, it pays nearly 900 dollars more than i expected. That'll go a long way to furnishing my apartment for next year.

Most of all i have my wonderful sweet love, my mcc. He's lying next to me, asleep, curled up in a navy sheet and he has no idea i'm writing this. He was buried in the sheet all the way up to his beautiful black hair, looking adorable. I pulled the sheet down to look at his face while he slept. he looks so peaceful when he's asleep. So innocent and carefree and happy. It's beautiful for me to see. He's so stressed so much of the time, awake. School, family, summer jobs, all the norms are giving him a really rough time right now. But when he's asleep none of this matters. Only being asleep and being with someone he trusts and loves matters. It still amazes me he trusts me enough to sleep in my presence; it still amazes me i trust HIM enough to sleep by him. I kiss his cheek while he rests and he smiles. I squeeze his hand and even asleep he squeezes back. I've given my life to this man, but every time i turn around he still suprises and amazes me.

Ten days from now we'll have been together three years (handfasted for a year and a half of that). I can't believe it's been that long. I can't believe he's stayed by me all that time. I can't believe we have that many years so many many times over in the future. Andrew, my dearest, i love you and i always will.

three years ago today, two kids in colorado shot a whole shitload of their fellow students. at the time, i was outraged, but sympathetic. i'd thought of doing rather similar things. there is a breaking point in every human psyche, a time when there are no more rational options -- when it becomes kill or die. there are only so many impacts that a human skull is meant to take in the course of a year, and some of us had taken more than our share.

i find it sad that those who were killed probably did not know why they were dying. had i finally snapped and actually killed people, i'd have made damn sure that each and every one of them had a full understanding of what had set me off. it's uncouth to slaughter the ignorant. luckily, i did no such thing, tempting though it was.

let me relate the story of an acquaintance of a friend who met an unfortunate end at his own hands recently. he was a normal, happy kid, who did his share of taunting the freaks, including my compatriot. in the end, he left a note addressed to said compatriot, which read "i'm sorry i teased you so much." it was his own conscience, i suppose, that finally got him.

i have little to say on it anymore. i'm in college now, and the only difference is that here i can go unnoticed in the crowds. the ones that notice me treat me in a very similar fashion to their high school counterparts, but i'm getting too old for this shit, and i hardly take the time to look disdainful. but i'll tell you, looking bored and disdainful while being walloped in the head is a skill. i cried all my tears years ago.

rest in peace, eric. you were family to my youngest brother, and you will be missed.

My shoe and its primary use last night

I was lying there trying to sleep. I was used to the sound of mice before I discovered they were rats. Then it started to annoy me; these aren't the big rats that you see in movies, they are pissy little rats that resemble overgrown mice.

I have used the 'three strike' rule before... it is where something that annoys you is given three chances to stop, and if it reaches the three strike limit you are supposed to take action. I spent the whole night just lounging around, then I retired at one o'clock. Sleep didn't come as fast as I'd hoped, because I could hear a loud scratching at the foot of my bed. I thought I could take it, so I lay there. Half an hour later and I was getting annoyed. The scratching would stop for a minute, go for a minute, stop, go.

"Three strikes," I said out loud, "and then I get up."

The noise continued until I got to three strikes. I didn't expect to do anything but scare it away, and when got up and turned on my light, there was (naturally) nothing there. I sat on my pillow at the head of my bed, and as luck would have it a big (compared to the others) rat crawled out from under my bed and was edging past my shoes. An not the way you'd expect a rat to move. This bitch was slow.

I took the oppertunity for revenge with much gusto. I picked up my shoe, and with a gutteral roar threw it with amazing accuracy and force at the rat. SPLAT! Right in the neck! I was overjoyed! The rat's back leg twitched, and then it lay still.

I got the rat, put it in an old box with a lid (that I used to have all my basketball cards in) and went inside to show my mum. By this time it was almost two o'clock, and my mum thought we were being robbed. She turned on her light and I opened the box, and then told her the whole story. She was impressed, but more ashamed of our rat 'problem'. I went outside and put the box on my front porch. Very, very, stupid idea.

I got up this morning, and guess what? Gone. The box was on its side, and the rat was gone. I was a little let down, I had thought it was dead. Maybe my cat got it? Maybe. Or maybe it was just playing dead the whole time? I will never know. Either way, my shoe is now considered by my family as a deadly weapon.

Watch out rats. Let me sleep, and this will never happen again.

EARTHQUAKE!

Felt a really good jolt this morning. I'd never really felt one since today. Everyone in the house awoke when what felt like a truck was rolling by but the whole bed started to twirl around. Here's some data on the event, for the record:

http://neic.usgs.gov/neis/bulletin/neic_deam.html
Date-Time 2002 04 20 10:50:44 UTC
Location 44.51N 73.66W
Depth 5.0 kilometers
Magnitude 5.1
Region NEW YORK
Reference 15 miles (25 km) SW of Plattsburgh, New York
Source USGS NEIC

The following is a release by the United States Geological Survey, National Earthquake Information Center: A moderate earthquake occurred about 15 miles southwest of Plattsburgh, New York at 4:50 AM MDT today, Apr 20, 2002 (6:50 AM EDT in New York). A PRELIMINARY MAGNITUDE OF 5.1 WAS COMPUTED FOR THIS EARTHQUAKE. The magnitude and location may be revised when additional data and further analysis results are available. The earthquake was felt from Buffalo, New York to Boston, Massachusetts and Baltimore, Maryland. No reports of damage or casualties have been received at this time.

http://www.seismo.nrcan.gc.ca/sig_eq_report/2002/20020420.html
Earthquake Report
Geological Survey of Canada

THE EPICENTRE IS LOCATED:

Northern N.Y State, U.S. Felt. Prelimiary solution.

PRELIMINARY DETAILS:
DATE: 2002-04-20 (Universal Time)
TIME: 10:50:45 (Universal Time)
LATITUDE: 44.48 NORTH/NORD
LONGITUDE: -73.71 WEST/OUEST
MAGNITUDE: 5.5 RICHTER (MN) on 15 STATIONS

ADDITIONAL INFORMATION:
Northern N.Y State, U.S. Felt widely in Ontario and Quebec. Prelimiary solution. 92 km S from Salaberry-de-Valleyfield, Que.
WESTERN QUEBEC SEISMIC ZONE.

AFTERSHOCKS:
11:04 UT/07:04 EDT MN 4.2
11:45 UT/07:45 EDT MN 3.1

Next

Bink 4-20-02

How can I know what to make of the world. People hiding from me. It is a stinging pain to me too to see everyone so quiet. It’s not that they don’t speak per say, but their words, what they do say that is so empty. The world’s thoughts, so empty and devoid of substance, of some earthly material, any material at all. Your silence, you quiet reverie. I don’t know how to take it, your loving silence. I am not an empathy. I fail to see your quiet reflecting wraith, shimmering, fluttering through my head. Never have I touched with my hands this love before. I hugged tightly my cold comfort. I was helpless those days so nearly passed, those days that I hated. It burns through my hulking remains of humanity to hear this confession of yours. The atom bomb hit long ago. The glowing hammer, the might of hell pummeling my monolithic form. Like Ethiopians thinking of the Titanic, I believed people to think of me. That lone structure in the desert. Stretched forms, rays of blinding light and then engulfing bands of darkness. Still though, in the ghostly shadows, and the vaporous glow there is life. My older defense mechanisms, so deeply rooted in a macabre maze of catacombs and vaulted caves, live. They held true to the promise, hardwired into my lonely halls and dark trash littered streets.

That fateful day always approaches though. Somehow I was blind to it, I thought it was never anything but a myth. It escaped my perception. It entered those forsaken halls. It found my heart. Sitting on a pedestal. A deep dark room with walls traced in light. Thin wires running amok, until the moment unseen to human eyes, these marvelous refracting mosaics of light, these godly sights. Formerly, the corps of my system, the relentless feudal kings and warlords sought this chamber. Not only those savage beasts keenly peered into the darkness to find this heart though. Great philosophers that once wandered my cheerful and prosperous nation searched also. No cache ever relieved itself to those who extended their probing fingers. Not until the trickery of another. A woman. Kunoichii. She dug deep. Somehow perceiving the truth. No mere words though can describe the horror. Good intentions, perhaps. My cities grew again. Under a gifted leader with the legendary powers, the city grew exponentially, sprawling over the dead infrastructure. Then all of a sudden. Nothing. Again I fell. The streets emptied, the markets shrank. And behold the ruin. Stolen again. From a young happy nation, death. Then the fateful rebirth, and again, desolation.

Some part of the crystal maze has rebuilt itself though. Thinking again. Opened to the world by the bandit queen, I achieved consciousness. My function not merely rote distinctions of off or on, but a complete universe light. A kaleidoscope of glory and peace. Following this conversion, I began my momentous decision for a new and grand shogun. Still in shambles, I reorganized my ruling class, my working class, everything, into a rudimentary train of function. Then distant, through miles of hazy fog and smoke I saw You. I approached cautionless, blind of your possible intention or reaction. I stumbled haphazardly towards your form, ignoring everything. My vision narrowing to a fine point, you.

I don’t know how to continue my expression though. Skipping from there to now I just don’t see. I’ve been torn from the fabric of social order then hastily sewn back in. The pain and agony I’ve felt, my secluded past, my present hate. It all incenses me. My silver traces glowing red. The obsidian glass surrounding the wiring, melting, smoking, smoldering. Everyone in the world, cliché, has a beauty. The meaningless hobos in the shrouded alleys, the various walks of life. I am new to the world and need guidance. I never had parents who knew how to care, never had siblings who helped instead of fought until now. My childhood never took it’s time to climb down to the tree to see things directly. It just bounded from branch to branch, ignoring the smaller protrusions, and tumbling madly to near death. Like a savant I see parts of life that few other’s are said to have seen at such an age. And also like a fool, I have missed too much, and with this I end my deliberation.


27min
We had a housewarming / 30th birthday party this evening.
I put together a series of compilation CDs for the event.
I am now offering them up for trades to other noders.

The party was lots of fun, it ran from about 8:30 till 4am... maybe about 25 people in attendance. Lots of booze and ganja.
Not much of a mess to clean up the next day.

So without furthur ado:

V/A Comp. 4/20 #1

Alex Chilton - The Replacements
Axilla - Phish
Rock The Casbah - The Clash
Life During Wartime - Talking Heads
It´s The End Of The World As We Know It (And I Feel Fine) - REM
Where Is My Mind - Pixies
The Ocean - Led Zepplin
The Wasp (Texas Radio and The Big Beat) - The Doors
Rascist Friend - The Special AKA
Till The End of the World - Nick Cave
Clubland - Elvis Costello
Live and Let Die - Sex Mob
Quicksand - David Bowie
Shoehorn With Teeth - They Might Be Giants
All I Want Is You - U2
Innocent When You Dream - Tom Waits
A Chicken Ain´t Nothin´ But A Bird - Cab Calloway
Mother Nature´s Son - Beatles
Bring On The Night - The Police
Peter Gunn - Dick Dale
Message To Earthman - Sun Ra

V/A Comp. 4:20 #2

All Along The Watchtower - Jimi Hendrix
Gimmie´ Some Lovin - Spencer Davis
One More Saturday Night - Grateful Dead
Bubblehouse - MMW
Wonderful World - Sam Cooke
Burn One Down - Ben Harper
Denny´s Village Rundown - Galactic
Little Wing - Concrete Blonde
Hold On - Lou Reed
Mas Y Mas - Los Lobos
You Can Never Tell - Chuck Berry
Buena Vista Social Club
I´ve Been Everywhere - Johnny Cash
Bullet The Blue Sky - U2
What I Say - Ray Charles
The Fool On The Hill - Beatles
Countess From Hong Kong - Velvet Underground
Sweet Georgia Brown - Django Reinhardt
Gennova Per Noi - Paolo Conte
Millcow Calf Blues - Robert Johnson
Mrs. Robinson - Simon and Garfunkle
Mr. Brown - Bob Marley

V/A Comp. April 20th #3 (number one tracks - made from only the leadoff tracks of CDs)

Are Youn Hung Up? - Frank Zappa
Birth-Day (Love Made Real) - Suzzane Vega
Clandestino - Manu Chao
Devil´s Haircut - Beck
Good Times, Bad Times - Led Zepplin
Julius - Phish
Legalize It - Peter Tosh
Little Willie Leaps - Charlie Parker
Move On Up - Curtis Mayfield
On The Sunny Side Of The Street - Dizzy Gillespi, Sonny Stitt, Sonny Rollins
One - Amiee Mann
Peaches En Regalia - Frank Zappa
Rainy Day Women #10 & 35 - Bob Dylan
Smells Like Teen Spirit - Nirvanna
Stay On The Left Side - Cornershop
Synchronicity - The Police
The Girl From Impanema - Stan Getz, Joao Gilberto
Tubthumping - Chumbawumba
Untouchable Face - Ani Difranco
U.S. Blues - Grateful DEad
What´s Going On - Marvin Gaye

V/A Comp. 4.20 #4

Leavin´ - Shelby Lynne
97 Bonnie and Clyde - Tori Amos
Hands Clean - Alaniss Morissete
Body And SOul - Sarah Vaughn
Rosie - Joan Armatrading
Kosmic Blues - Janis Joplin
Down By The Water - PJ Harvey
Soul On Ice - Me´shell Ndege´ocello
Tonight´s The Night - Neil Young
Big Yellow Taxi - Joni Mitchell
Show Me Your SOul - Red Hot Chilli Peppers
Thorn In My Side - Eurythmics
Brazil - 8 1/2 Souviniers
Wild Mountain Honey - Steve Miller Band
Khomeni Died Tonight - Bongwater
Twisted - Lambert, Hendricks & Ross
Kookies Mad Pad - Edd "Kookie" Byrnes
unknown tune - Bob Dylan
And Your Bird Can Sing - Beatles
Jesus Left Chicago - ZZ Top
Devil Suit - Bill Frisell
Change - Fishbone



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