Today is truly a momentous occasion.

I made the last car payment on my car! I now fully own a 1993 Chevy Beretta.

How did I celebrate this event? As I was pulling away from the drive thru teller, I took a corner a litte too tightly and popped my back wheel up on the curb only to have it wham! down again.

So there you have it. I finally own my car, and the first thing I do is try to damage it.

well.. I got me breakfast in bed this morn..

No. Nothing like that. (I wish) On hearing my alarm clock go this morn I forced myself to wrap my duvet around my neked bod, opened the door, got a bowl, put 2 weetabix in it, poured some of William's milk* into the bowl, got a spoon, shuffled back to my bed, lay awkwardly in the bed, and shoveled the wheaty goodness into my rank carpety feeling bouche.

* William is my housemate. I love William. Honest I do. But William keeps nicking my stuff.
E.g. my big oranges which cost me 50p a pop; my clothes conditioner; my MiWadi.
This pisses me off. So I'm resolved hit back and nick back

9:43am
Shit! - I'm dead late for work (work begins at 9:45am).
Bollox! - I yet have to have a shower to rid myself of that gross pub/ethanol/cigarette odour.
Shite! shite! shite! shite! shite! shite! shite! - I've no credit on my mobile to apologise for my pending tardiness.
Oh sweet Jesus! - I forgot to take my jumper out of the drier last night. It now can only fit a midgit leprechaun.
FUCK!! - I left my bike on campus yesterday, so have to walk to work. This takes 40minutes.

It's lashing rain

I actually wrote this on April 22, 2001 but I thought that I didn't want to cheat by writing one big daynode. But the events of the day before determined the mood for the rest of the night and the day after.

I didn't get much sleep again. I was tired and restless but still, I couldn't find myself asleep. Finally, at about 5:30am, I heard my sister getting up. My mom is driving her to Toronto for a quick little vacation. I still remember thinking that while she's out having fun, I'm still going to go to work. It was hard lying there quietly, as it was a warm night and the bed covers were making my skin itch. But I managed it without a hitch. By the time 6:30 am came, I was finally asleep, no thanks to the garbage collectors that came at 6:00 am.

8 am. I'm woken up so I can drive my mom to the airport. She's going to Toronto too. She got a free ticket but not on the same flight. Envy hits me again, as I heard the glorious stories about the beautiful women in Toronto. But I say nothing. On the way there, we were discussing the recent divorce of my friend's parents which in turn were the friends of my mom. It was sort of weird, talking to my mother like an adult, rather than a child struggling for attention. After a hug and a quick drop off, I find myself heading home.

On the way home, MrFurious calls my cell. Interesting. He wanted to visit our old high school to see the hot computer science teacher who recently got married. Hey, what the heck. It would be nice to gawk I guess. After a quick stop at McDonalds for some cheap breakfast, I change at home. MrFurious picked me up and we headed over to Richmond High. We got our other friend and soon enough, got there.

We entered, and truthfully, I wanted to see our old calculus teacher. I never had the computer science teacher as an instructor so I didn't really care. She just knew me as the acquantances of my friends and nothing more. She didn't even know my name. But I didn't mind. As we walked through, everything seemed smaller, or at least in my renewed scope. I saw the little siblings of my friends and even saw the graduating class pictures. The hallowed halls held many memories for me, ones where I discovered myself, and met friends that hopefully can be there for the rest of my life. As we walked around, memories flashed through. Places where I remembered taking pictures during the end of the year thinking that I'll lose touch with friends. Places where I hung around with my ex-girlfriends. Places where I used to pass by. I guess you don't know what you have until its gone. Then the idea that the school would be torn down simply burdened my heart. It was the only time I would go back to, when life was so much simpler and so much more fun. Innocence left behind, traded in place for adulthood. Finally, we had to leave, and trying to hide my disappointment, I followed them to the car. I wanted to see the teacher as while he wasn't the greatest teacher, everything he taught seemed to latch on like a leech. I had respect for the man, even though we didn't see eye to eye all the time. Maybe its just me. Maybe I'm just weird. Or maybe its just nostalgia.

Finally, I'm home. I get a phone call. Ring. Its my friend. She comes over and we chill for a bit. As always, it was completely my pleasure, even though it was a simple rendezvous. I always enjoyed her company, even though the situation ended up with me worrying like crazy. I always do. What else can I do? I'm too old to change, and too stupid to be willing to explore what is best for me.

Me and MrFurious end up at Richmond Public Market eating some cheap teriyaki chicken. Then a slurpee. Nothing extremely special but a worthwhile use of time at least.

Again I'm home, until about 7pm. My old friend calls and says that we should go for a drink. I told her to call me since I'm one of those guys who says I'll call but never does. Don't take me wrong its not that I don't want to call them back, its just that I either become really preoccupied or forget due to my really short term memory. I couldn't get a ride so I cabbed down to her house and we walked to a nearby pub.

Inside, we were talking and slowly we were just drinking our choice of drinks. Mine was Mike's Hard Lemonade while she started with a Paralyzer. I've known this lady since grade 7 and became great friends until grade 11 when I did something terrible to her best friend, which was my girlfriend at the time. It wasn't the most particularly pleasant confrontation of friends I had and literally everyone left but one. But even now, I knew I was wrong so I admit it. Anyways, we started off with small talk like "how is school", "how is your significant other" and "how is the family".

I finally got my second Mike's Hard Lemonade. We started talking about old friends, the ones that left me. I'm still bitter but again, I wanted to know how much things have changed. She orders a drink that I don't remember the name of. All I know its that it is some sort of peach alcoholic slurpee. Anyways, then we started talking bout her best friend. Its sort of ironic. I still think about her all the time. The probably only girl I would ever literally do anything for and I can't say a word to her because I was stupid when I was younger.

I shudder as we talk then I get my third drink. She starts asking about my dilemmas, then afterwards, I get my fourth while she orders a martini. Yummy stuff by the way. We talk some more, and finally, we leave. As I tried to be a gentleman, I paid for everything and walked her home, while I was struggling to keep my equilibrium. Never drink without eating anything.

Finally, I head back to a nearby mall so I can get a ride home. MrFurious said he would give me a ride home but he didn't cuz I didn't wanna bother him so I decided to cab home. Haha. I was so drunk that I used the bushes as the washroom and didn't notice someone watching me. I head home, carefully getting out of the cab, making sure that I had everything that I came with.

I come home to a dark home. My other sister isn't home yet. She's out bowling or something. I come online, and boil some water for some instant noodles. I struggled to chug down some water and eat something as I had work in less than 7 hours. Finally, I gave up on the phone and gave up on the computer. I go to sleep.

2 am. I get a phone call. Its my living dream. Ring. "Yes...". Replies "Hi..". "I can't talk right now. Slightly drowsy from alcohoool...". Replies "Oh..You don't have to lie..I know you're still mad..". "Yes yes...I'm mad...Let me sleep..We'll talk when I'm awake..Sweet dreams...Luv..". Replies "Good night...Sleep tight..Luver..". Whoops. Didn't mean to say that. Ah what the hell. At least I only get drunk once in a while. If not, I would have gone insane already. Can't you tell that I'm so bloody mentally stable. Sleep. I drowsed off. Maybe I should drink more often. Finally, I close my eyes, only to fall asleep. I hope that I wake up for work in the morning.
It’s so quiet out for a Friday night. Unusually quiet, I feel like I'm the only one here. Billie Holiday is playing softly as I begin this. I could cry, I really could.

It’s been a long time since my last daylog. Weeks have gone by, as have road trips, roaming infections of various diseases making a playground of my body, and a nearly crippling depression coming from deep left field. Today was the first ‘good’ day I've had in a fairly long time, and now I can feel it slipping away from me again.

I’ve begun to worry their might be something wrong with me.

Weeks pass and I barely notice. I've begun sleeping late, ignoring obligations. I’ve stopped answering the phone on occasion as well. Beautiful Girl worries about me, I know. I ask her not to, tell her that I’ll be fine. I usually am.

Today was a good day. Beautiful weather; sky the clearest blue you’d ever want to see. I enjoyed the sunshine, cleaned, ran errands and felt like I had some worth. It was lovely, getting things done; dancing around the room after a shower and feeling mostly good about nearly anything.

So now it’s late evening and I’m listening to Billie Holiday and feel like I've been hollowed-out. Crying alone seems so futile, and overly dramatic—a waste of energy. It’s strange: I've ceased to trust my thoughts. They vary so much from mood to mood, I no longer feel that I'm capable of making sound decisions. My relationship with Beautiful Girl is crumbling, and it entirely my fault. We’ll be fine eventually, but all she does is worry about me, and all I do is try desperately to feel normal. I love her, I do. I don't need to convince myself of that. Still, this doesn't stop me from worrying. She has her own problems, and all I do is bring her down. I don't think she realizes that I need her to be the stable one right now. I don't want her worry, or her feelings of doubt about me. I don't what to hear that I should see someone. I'm just so fucking weak right now. Don't feel like much of a man.

Shit. I don't even trust myself right now. What I feel now may be totally different from what I feel in a few days, or even tomorrow morning. Actually, that would be lovely to wake up to.

Billie has such a beautiful voice. That voice is the reason people fall in love. It’s something to soak in, to feel that temperature change and your head lighten. There’s more emotion in that soft sound than all the world’s offering, and she uses it with such ease; a casual thing. When she says she will always love him, you know she means it. There’s no compromise, so suggestion of doubt. She will love; it’s so simple. I want Billie to sing to me. I want to be that man who is so easy to be with. I want to make love to that voice.

I’ve wanted all night to drink myself into a shallow coma, perhaps writing a bit on the way down, yet my liquor cabinet is dry and, therefore, so am I. This scares me, this compulsion to drink. Yet another symptom that something may be seriously wrong with me.

Billie’s been down so long that down don’t worry her. I wish I could be so stoic. It’s late and I’m not sure what I’m writing at this point. I’ll most likely nuke this in the morning—I should know better than to write when I’m like this. I could really curl up and lay my head on someone’s lap. Something warm to put my head against. How long has it been since someone has kissed me on the forehead? I can’t remember that last time my hair was smoothed back with a cool hand, words whispered in a gentle mantra to fall asleep to: “Everything’s going to be alright.”

This is all I need, more than anything. I’m so very tired.

Well, i actually am sitting next to another person who uses e2 away from school. Im at UMBC student day, and met 2 people who are members of e2, but seem to have lost their names. Very interesting, never happened to me before. To bad they kinda suck, but thats okee. well, ta, gotta go.

O yea, the Gay pride march is in downtown DC today, mabey ill see some of you there, or mabey tonight at Nation for the gay rave. bye all, im out

Hung out with Satyr and Jules last night. Couldn't drink much due to the fact that I've been staying up writing volumes at night and working 14 HOURS! each day. I have two full time jobs....and I'm strong, but this may indeed kick my ass.

Listening to Ani Difranco, as usual, and I realized something. I'm being called a quitter, a liar and a pessimist pretty much all in the same breath. If it were a month ago, I would vehemiately deny these things as I'd shout and start swinging. Now, I just think it's ridiculous. There is no point coming to my own defense. But I'll tell you something, it's just not that way. And I know in my heart, for the first time, that what I'm doing is right. There isn't a doubt in my mind.

I play the bad guy because it makes it easier on other people to make me their scapegoat. It's easier for them to play the wounded and say they are the way they are due to me and circumstances that I bring about. But it's bullshit. It's all for looks. No, I don't believe the pain is there, or at least not to the degree which has been eluded to. I know there is more pain to come, but this my dears, is not something I am intentionanlly giving anyone. This is a pain that is brought about someone's own actions, and there ain't a damn thing I can do to save them from it, because frankly, they asked for it.

I am not continuing the cyle. It would be easier for a time to fall back into old patterns and habits. But for what? Do I have to be instituionalized for someone to take me fucking seriously? Thanks, but they DON'T care enough about me to ever save me that. I've gotten real used to saving myself and them, when they would rather I wasn't involved in their lives anyway. I'm not bitter as of yet, I'm just being realistic.

So please don't ask me not to be so hard on them. I'm not doing anything. I'm sorry if the colors you get in your painting of the situation are just a hair off. There's a lot of love in a lot of people's eyes, and it didn't matter that it shone so brightly in mine. Brighter than any feeling I have ever had. But now it's banked, cloaked, and I can't dig it up even though I've been trying.

I gotta go to work now.

Feeling a lot better today. My girlfriend and I went to a nature preserve trail last night. There were a few things I found troubling upon arrival. First, it was the first state park that I've ever had to pay to enter. Four dollars is a paltry sum of money, but in Illinois (where I spent my first 2.5 decades) all the state parks are paid for by taxes. It was weird for me to have to pay for a state-run nature preserve, but I was really in the mood to get the hell out of the city for a while, so I considered it money well spent.

I couldn't walk much because of my damned upper-respiratory infection that is going away far too slowly, but we managed to wander a bit and enjoy the sights and sounds. The trail encircles a lake, and has gazebos along the way with cast iron binocular type things to stare out at the herons, geese, ducks, and such. We came to a bend where the path runs very close to the lake. I decided to walk up to the bank and get off the trail for a few. Just above eye-level, I saw a sign nailed to a tree:

Please stay on the trail!

What the fuck? Stay on the trail?! I was outraged, at first, that I had to pay to enter, and then was asked not to deviate from the little path that man had wrought. What kind of nature preserve won't let an introspecting animal wander freely? Then it occurred to me. While I was by no means any danger to the life there, or to the stability of the trees or any of that, most visitors are. It is the bulk of the population that has no concept of anything other than their own immediate satisfaction that could and would quickly bring this beautiful place to ruin.

As we returned to the car, this message was slammed home to me, as I saw a carelessly discarded plastic easter egg, lying a couple of meters from the path. It's odd how I pay so little attention to the trash that builds up in our carefully constructed human zoos, but how one tiny piece is a terrifying contrast in nature. I guess that's a sad commentary on humanity, but there it is.

I woke up to a campus covered in chalked pot leaves and 4:20. The leaves were all gone by 10am, though. Chalk the sidewalk for birthday greetings or christian student-group parties and it stays for weeks. Chalk the sidewalks for gay rights or legalization and it's gone within a few hours. The implication is pretty clear, this is a place which will tolerate no dissent against the conservative groupthink.

Last night was ever so kickass. 101X (alternative rock station in Austin) put on their annual springfest concert yesterday. I left right after my 3:00 economics class, got to Austin about 5, but because traffic in austin was so horrible, and I had trouble navigating an unfamiliar city at rush hour, it took until after 6 to get parked and into Waterloo park. We missed Oleander, but Orgy, which I was never a big fan of, put on an absolutely ass-kicking show. The main event (and the reason I drove all the way out there in the first place) was The Offspring. They opened with "Bad Habit" (appropriate, most people on the road there seem about 3 seconds away from road rage :-) They played a good mix of old and new songs, and ended with "Self Esteem", which got *everyone* in the crowd bouncing up and down and singing along.

The real adventure, though, was trying to navigate back to College Station in the dark, with only the most crappy of directions. It took three tries to find the highway out of town, then after taking one wrong turn after another, we were lost in the grand metropolis of Dime Box, Texas. I finally broke down and called my best friend in San Diego, to ask him to look up directions on Yahoo maps. He wasn't there, but his roommate got us back on the proper highway. We were home before 3am, so it wasn't all that bad.
I'm housesitting again. Luckily this means I have a little time to use a computer that isn't school property. Most of the time I spend on E2 these days is wedged in between printing out papers and requesting arcane research studies from even more questionable sociology departments. It's relaxing to just sit down and write directly into the enter your write box. Yeah. I guess that's my idea of big fun.

The last couple of weeks have been hectic but for reasons largely outside of school. My girlfriend's band opened for Fugazi so there was the usual running around and nonsense involved when someone you know and love is soon to play into front of a sold out crowd at a +1300 capacity venue. The people from Fugazi are nice almost to a fault. Yoon actually ended up driving up to Laramie, Wyoming earlier this week to see their show there. It coincided with Ian from Fugazi turning 39. It's a strange little world.

It is a nice change of pace to be the boyfriend who hangs out at shows. I've played in crappy and not-so-crappy unk and hardcore bands since junior high and have dragged many significant others to a myriad of bad shows. It is cool to be introduced as a boyfriend.

I'll be turning 29 next Thursday. I'd thought that there would be some anxiety involved but I was wrong. Hey I've been losing hair and all of that for years now. I'm more than ready to kiss my 20's goodbye. They have been nothing but trouble.

Still trying to put together a proposal for an ally program at the high school where Yoon teaches. We want to assemble a summer program for creating allies across racial and sexual orientation lines. My idea is to deal mostly with white kids and try to make them understand that they need to actively oppose racist and sexist shit that goes on around them. The basic idea is to make a few more of us that benefit from racism to take a couple of active steps to fight it. We're talking about high school kids here so I'm not sure how far to take it or how critical to be about it. If anyone here has dealt with these issues on an institutional level and have any suggestions or whatnot please drop me an email.

Wasn't going to do this

The last time I wrote a daylog, which was, in fact, the first time I wrote a daylog, it got a C!. And a lot of votes. This being my ... um, I think 16th WU ever, I was extremely excited. I kept, you know, refreshing the browser so I could watch my XP go up. When it stopped rising, the writeup had the highest rep, by a long shot, of any of my work.

Then someone pointed out to me that daylogs are used as dumping grounds for votes. Well of course! It makes sense, doesn't it? Daft of me to not realise that and get so hyped up about the whole thing.

For a self-absorbed, insecure, ego-inflated, approval-seeking whining pansy such as myself, that makes daylogging a bad idea. If I get no votes (or bad votes), then I assume that the wu was crap, and I get miserable. However, should the wu receive many votes, like my other one did, I know that I can't take the compliment seriously - it being the product of a bunch of bored vote dumpers.

Rather ridiculous, isn't it? Here I am, being a whining pansy in the daylogs ABOUT being a whining pany when I write daylogs. I think the recursion is going to give me a headache.

I can't get into hack mode. It's pissing me off. All I want to do is go into an insane coding spree and let nothing get between me and the program for 10 straight hours.

Let this be a warning to all programmers: Never become the boss! Never! Being responsible for lots of shit will ruin your ability to focus on a single task!

I am badly torn between the urge to vent, and the fact that whinging in this manner disgusts me.

I hate self-pity. This may be one of the reasons I pity myself. There's that goddamn recursion again!

At the same time I'm fighting with some really bizarre introspections (and what else is new), like the fact that I'm a womanising jerk and nobody, including the women I womanise, seems to object to this. Why am I getting away with this?
Anybody?
No?
Okay then.

I find the fact that I am simultaneously a womanising jerk, and a moralistic prude, extremely irritating. My existence makes no sense to me whatsoever.

And another thing. This whole exercise is so utterly cliché it makes me want to puke. The pathetic, immature teenager with self esteem problems. How very predictable of me! And, sorry to spoil it folks (as if anyone's still reading this tripe), but here's how the story ends - the teenager continues to be pathetic and immature, continues to indulge his quasi-autistic behaviours, continues to sink into psuedo depression at any opportunity, and keeps churning out shitty pointless writeups like this one.

Yay.

I'm so very glad I got out of bed this morning ... er, this evening actually.

I went to Filey today and wandered along the shore. Not bad, less full of plebs than Scarborough. Not a very sunny day, which was a shame. We almost got cut off out on the brig, and the tide was coming in around our feet as we ran away. That might be the sort of happy memory that lives with you all your life, but I doubt it.

Then I got home and went on Unreal Tournament some more. The lag is starting to annoy me now, I think I might already have peaked out on my cycle. The people on there are obviously all very good players - I guess if you're playing the demo and not the full game you might well have been playing since the demo first came out. I've been playing single player, but this is very different to multiplayer. I might stick around until I get better, but I doubt it.

Read some more of The Puzzle of Ethics. A review of it and probably quite a few nodes concerning morals and ethics are to follow. Hurrah for moral philosophy!

I fscking hate my movers. I'm sitting here on my little P-233 laptop, normally just used for an xterm, when I wonder, "Hey, why don't I just get my server set up so I don't have to struggle wih the pathetic CPU on this thing?" After searching through 4 boxes, I find all of my kit. Connect everything up, and I'm all set to adjust my DNS zone files and ifconfig, when I hit the power button. *BEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEP* ... *BEEP* WTF? What happen? I jump on my laptop and get the manual for my motherboard. 8 beeps... The video adapter memory isn't syncing. 1 beep... The DIMMs aren't syncing. Great. Just fscking great. And, just for fun, Matrox doesn't make my video card anymore. Bastards. At least I was able to update Rygel XVI and Clan Lamont to get some good out of the day.

The sun is beautiful today. Maybe it's Saturday, or maybe the carry-over effect from the evening.....I can't put my finger on it. Last night showed me something I'd been missing, a good time with friends I don't see anymore. When you first get to college, my case 1994, you meet a shitload of people. I remember saying," You know in like three years, I bet we don't remember each other."

This reflected growing up a military brat, you never stay somewhere long enough to sink roots. The tradeoff for me was great social networking skills. A true statement indeed, put me in a chatroom online, and I am lost. But me in a group of twenty people in a lobby, I'll know why John and Susan should talk to each other....slight inflections on facial expressions and reading body language as if it were the Sunday Funnies. Anyway, I'm overwhelmed to know where I stand with these people of seven years. A deep rooted realization in a positive manner makes this weekend a true . Basketball in 45 minutes. In a city I love....I am home.

Grocery list:

Woke up this morning to the phone ringing. It's x, my friend from portland...having a bad day, and doing the right thing, calling me instead of drinking or using drugs. This woman is amazing. 16 months ago she was fresh from being a crank addict and drinking beer and whisky all day every day. At the time she couldnt work, cuz she couldn't deal with people and had a severe anger problem. Today, she's 16 months clean and sober. She's got a job, a house, a family. She was bummed today cuz of the little stuff that makes a normal, semi-responsible life suck sometimes...bills, laundry, fights with loved ones, shitty weather. We talked for an hour and when we hung up we were both so much better. She got to see herself through my eyes, see just how much in awe I am of this wonderful woman who has overcome so much in so short a time, and I got to see life at work and be so grateful to get to watch and be part of the miracle that is x's life today. Phone calls like that, experiences like that make me remember what life is all about. Thanks x. I love ya.

I saw King Lear in Philadelphia last night. Field trip, so to speak, with various people from the theatre department, and so including my professor (yes, that proffessor). The production was really good, I highly enjoyed it, though there was some disagreement about the costumes. Etc, so on and so forth.

Well, afterwards, four of us went out to the Iron Hill Brewery for a drink--me, my friend Brian (who directed me in a play recently), a woman named Megan (ok, if we're old enough to drink, we're too old to be called "girls" or "kids"), and my professor. It was pretty damned incredible, just talking like he wasn't a professor, like he wasn't a higher-up. Of course, I'm sitting there drinking, wanting to mount him right there, but I behaved myself (lest this become Maedchen in Uniform or something).

See, I see this as a step towards something. What, I don't know. A bigger involvement in the theatre? More people I can actually socialize with? SOMEONE I WANT NOW?!?!.

At any rate, it was fun.

For the first time, I'll expose my thoughts here at the day log.

My life went from shitty to depressive. What could cause that you say? Oh, why the ex-factor of course, Timmy! My ex for almost two years now has found a new guy. And I had a strange experience. I thought that she wasn't out of my mind, but when I got the news, I felt nothing. I didn't feel joy, I didn't feel depressed, I was in mental limbo. My legs went all jello-like, and I had to fight to stand straight however.

This wasn't what made my day crappy, however. I also found out that she had no feelings for me anymore. Not love (As I knew) but nothing else either. Honestly, I would rather have her hate me than have no feelings towards me.

Life sucks, but there's a frat party on friday. Yay. I guess.

Type of day: productive for mundane duties, but emotionally the kind of day I do not wish to be part of. Spiritually the kind of day that kicked my butt HARd.

Productive becuase I rearranged my living room and found things I forgot I had. Also, I created a wonderful plant corner by one of my windows that junglified my apartment nicely. But somehow, a 40 watt bulb in my favorite lamp grew much brighter after I moved it across the room. It looks gross now. Strange things happen in this aparment.

Emotionally horrible becuase I admitted to myself that I have been lied to for far too long. But I was the one who lied to me. One deep look around, and I don't know why I spend so much time with so many shmucks. There is that one Law of Affinity that each will seek out his own level, and by golly, I am ready for a better level.

HEREBY, I STATE THAT I SHALL NO LONGER SPEND MY FREETIME IN THIS LIFE WITH PEOPLE WHO AFFECT ME NEGATIVELY.

whew. OK then.

I watched Magnolia too. What a strange flick. So much something.

Spiritually today had also kicked my butt as I had stated at the start of this log. See sometimes, I am visited by this little evil elf. He shows me my darkside. All the evil I hide inside of me like everyone else does... hoping that no one sees... he shows me all the black spots on my heart and then asks me what I am going to do about them. Once in awhile I hate the little elf. I have never really seen him. But I know it is him who is causing these introspecitve tornadoes of melancholy that make me contemplate the darkness in my heart and want to OD on the nearest anything.

But after these introspective tornadoes of melancholy and self doubt pass, and I look at all the things that have been drudged up from my subconcious by the little damn elf... everything seems clearer... lighter... better.
and if I have been prompted to do something and follow through with it, aftwards, everything is more amazing than I can imagine. Until the damn elf shows up again pushing me further into what seems like an abyss.

Sometimes he takes me on tours of what others REALLY think of me, and what I am wasting my time doing... the perspective of his tours are always that of a dog's eye view, or an eagle's eye view.. this is how i determined he is an elf with the ability to fly. Or perhaps hover.

yes indeed. I have been unmedicated for almost 9 months now. Sometimes, I don't know if it's a good thing.

It's hard when there is nothing to hang onto when the world falls apart. So I bought this stuffed owl today.

yes.
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I woke up still feeling tired - physically - which was why I'd hadn't stayed out late last night.

About a month ago (on a night out which I've been meaning to node), I was drunk, and for some reason decided to shell out six quid on a ticket to an American Football game in the NFL Europe League. The ticket price also included a pregame pub crawl on the Party Bus, but I didn't quite feel like that when I got up.

After a bit of swithering, I decided to stay home, have some lunch, and then join my friends later for the game at Hampden.

As well as being my first American Football match, it was my first trip to the National Stadium, and it is an impressive structure. There had been a lot of controvery over its funding, but it is a great arena.

I'd managed to miss out on the pre-game fun at Lesser Hampden, which was emptying by the time I got there. But I did find the people I knew, and the people they were with - assorted other people who'd brought tickets, and the Glasgow University Pussycats cheerleading squad.

The game itself was rather dull - I wasn't entirely sure what was going on. What I did know was that there were seven cheerleaders directly between our part of the stadium and the field of play, who started dancing whenever the ball wasn't being chucked around. Also around on the field were a live broadcast crew from Fox Sports, a single betacam camera recording for Sky Sports, and someone with about £35k of equipment - including a steadicam rig and some wireless broadcast gear - whose job, it seemed, was to transmit pictures of the cheerleaders to the big screen.

At half time, (before Deacon Blue did the half time show), we headed down to a local pub for a few hours. Then onto the party bus and into town - a chartered double decker, with good dance music playing loud, some cheerleaders dancing in the aisle, and people pouring vodka and red bull straight into our mouths. Nice.

I just went to one other place - a trendy bar in town - before heading home, fearing that the contents of my stomach wouldn't stay intact unless I did so. Graham had to leave around then to get a bus too, which just left Geoff. And he doesn't really know where he ended up, and called me on Sunday to ask if I knew. A wee bit too much to drink, methinks...

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