I baked cookies yesterday with only a few major disasters. It all started out innocently enough; I got an irresistible craving for cookie dough. I tried to satiate it with simpler items, such as the beautiful pineapple, some classic Rice Chex cereal, and a lot of Dole pineapple orange juice. Unfortunately, although my stomach was full, I still needed some cookie dough. So why not make cookies? I would be able to quench my hunger and have a lovely byproduct to eat at my leisure on a later date.

I got out the cookbook and flipped to the familiar page containing the recipe for my ultimate childhood favorite:

Jumbo Candy Oatmeal Cookies
They are to die for. Absolute heaven. Amazing taste experience. Indescribable! I would gladly die for one this very second.

I could only find a medium sized mixing bowl in the cupboard, but thought I would be able to stuff all the ingredients in nonetheless. I was wrong. Before I knew it, there was sugar on the floor, butter in my hair, and three pounds of Quaker Oaks strewn across the kitchen rug. My brother picked this exact moment to walk through the door with his girlfriend and one of her skank ho assistants. I could not handle their confused, bewildered faces when they saw the mess I had created. My usually clean language became extremely foul. It was quite an experience.

I eventually got out the vacuum to take care of the oatmeal and the sugar, along with several other interesting surprises I had managed to drop on the floor without noticing. The oatmeal had managed to get inside the cupboards on the island as well as the drawers and under the rug, too. I was pleased. Luckily the noise of the vacuum was loud enough to drown out most of the four letter words that escaped from my mouth. The butter was removed easily from my hair. Sensible advice to all you cooks out there: if you have hair past your bum, put it in a ponytail or tie your hair in a knot before getting the butter out of the fridge. You will be glad you took the time to see to this small detail.

By the time I had all the dough mixed up and ready to cook, I remembered to turn the oven on. I put all the dough on cookie sheets, leaving enough in the mixing bowl to satisfy my earlier craving. Then Sheena decided she could eat it instead of me. She took the bowl and ran out of the room. I was left with a spoon with minimal amounts of dough stuck to it. I guess Sheena feels she could use an extra pound or two. Maybe she’ll just add it to her substantial and incredibly enormous bosom. To be past the point of a DD cup by the age of 16 is slightly irregular. Perhaps I’m just jealous. I wish I had more massive fat balls protruding from my pectoral muscles.

So all the work was basically for naught. I managed to down six or seven cookies before Sheena and Adam realized they were ready to be eaten. They have no shame when it comes to consuming desserts that do not belong to them.

Today was much better. I awoke at the early hour of ten and enjoyed the stifling humidity cascading over my comforter-and-four-blanket-covered self. My body temperature is sickly. I got out of bed in time to see Bob Barker and the fabulous, entertaining The Price is Right. No other game show host can hold a candle to my Bob. Monty Hall is the closest one shall ever get.

After the show was finished, I went over to Aaron’s house to wake him up. This is a timeless tradition, and one he says he enjoys. Waking up a 6’6” 190lbs guy at noon is not a task I particularly care for. Boys smell funny. Especially when their houses have no AC. But I love him anyway.

We rounded up the clan and managed to get to the beach by four in the afternoon. It was slightly overcast but awfully hot. We played hackey sack for a while, but the sand did not seem to agree with quick movements. The water was calling. The clear blue liquid, gigantic waves and a ferocious undertow. I love Michigan.

I ran for the water full speed, heedless of the fact that my bathing suit was suspect to dislodging itself from my body at any time. Being tall and being thin makes it hard to find a one piece suit that fits, so I abandoned that search long, long ago. Today I go for the bikini style to allow for maximum sunburn. And maximum exposure in situations such as today. Fortunately, I think I managed to enter the water with dignity intact and remain decent for the rest of the trip. Us children swam out as far as we could until no one could touch the bottom because the pressure hurt too much. We estimated it must have been deeper than twenty feet or so. The shore was merely a fading memory. We were all tired as hell. It took half an hour to swim back to shore, the undertow making it impossible to go in a straight line. We spent more time compensating for the pull than actually going towards our final destination. But it was exciting either way, despite the fainting and lung-heaving once we made it back to solid ground.

We soon left for our respective houses. I immediately took a shower upon my return, heavy on the coconut shampoo. Lake water is not exactly as clean as one could wish it to be. I was soon picked up by the oil-burning mitsubishi belonging to Jon. I promptly managed to lose my keys within the interior without my knowledge until later that night.

We went out to eat at J.J. Finnegan’s, the classic choice for fine dining among our group. Lots of good food for a reasonable price… I feel like a commercial. I had my usual chicken fingers, fries and a water. Seth ordered a large margarita that somehow managed to make a few rounds about the table. I wonder how that happened? None of my doing, I assure you.

I am now recovering from an anxiety attack concerning the loss of my keys. I just discovered their lack of existence about two hours ago, and have since made two very desperate sprints to the bathroom due to extreme nausea and the want to act on such feelings. Not something I enjoy.

Aaron and I have managed to network my notebook with his three computers at his mom’s house. I am now networked in two systems. The logistics of it are beyond my understanding or want to understand, but as long as it works, I am happy as a muffin.

This is writeup #2 from
kaytay’s notebook computer.

"He has laughed, and he has cried" Pink Floyd
I find myself noding this as I rise Thursday morning. Today we have an "important" visitor, a friend of my boss who he is going to hit up to invest in our company. In other words, we need cash. This should be interesting, we spent the evening cleaning the place, hanging up some more of our nicer art pieces, etc. I may actually shave in honor of the attempt. We have a very tight niche in the window treatment business, and the company is over 27 years old, with a good reputation. It's just too small a shop to pump out the numbers we need to grow. We, we, I've only been there three weeks and already I'm attached. Will it be worth it? I only plan on staying in New York for two years, at the most, and I believe that if I stick with this job it will be hard to get out. Of course, I could always do what Ryan does when he wants out of a good situation- intentionally phuck it up, manipulate the situation so it looks as if I'm not getting what I want when I actually am...but that's thinking too far ahead. We'll see. (always the fatalist)

I find myself almost burning in indignation at the Digo/Florida situation. Yes dear, I feel your silent eyes on these words. Hypocrite. I never made any promises I couldn't keep, and was too honest in my dishonesty. I mean, really. Get ready to get paint smeared all over you, too (grin)
Today I woke up with the hunger.

No, I'm not talking about the weed-munchies. Get your mind out of the Narc Gutter! I'm talking about the knowledge hunger. I can feel the gnawing emptiness of my mind-belly (to paraphrase David Eddings). Any of the info-addicts among you should know what I mean. Somehow, I avoided the hunger for a long while. So long, that I almost forgot how to keep it under control.

I still remember the first time I use the Internet. My hands were shaking. All I could think of was how much data could be gotten from it. It was a rush.

So I'm thinking I'd better do some learning, real quick. Ideas:

  • another language (human, not computer) - Russian, or perhaps complete my Japanese studies
  • Assembly under Windows
  • Baking. Either making quiche or cookies... not sure. (They are totally different disciplines, after all)

    Arg! I spent too much time on this writeup and the pain-hunger is killing me! Gotta go!

  • After reading witchepoo's wu extoling the virtues of the daylog I have decided that perhaps I ought to try for a while to log my life on a day to day basis, just for a while. It is 15min before the end of this job, then I have a little while before I beign my second job of the day, but wait this maeks no sense, does it? , well I am in Dublin having left a Ph.D. in New York. I am currently doing data entry during the day and have just got someone to allow me to try and play with Python in the evening.

    This daylog and the Python jobs are attempts to sort my life out. If thigns go to plan there should be some evoloution here over the next few months, (wow three minutes goes quickly, perhaps I shall spend more time tommorrow)

    last up next


    It sucks people in, makes them forget the rest of their life, the ones they love, their hopes and dreams. It makes them hurt so fucking bad that even though they wake up each day vowing to end the use, they end up having to score so they can just quit hurting. It never lets go. People who have been clean for years can find themselves just as addicted after only a week of using. It's taking away my best friend and I'm pissed, and scared, and hurting for her, and frustrated.

    I called my best friend this morning. I have one of her daughters at my house, and I wanted to discuss how we were going to get her home, and whether or not she wanted to meet us at the Chetco pow wow this weekend. As soon as she answered, I knew. There was no life, no zing, no anything in her voice. She's never lied to me about her struggles with heroin addiction, as I'm walking the same path (not heroin, thankfully]. I asked about Rusty and Paul, her cousins who just danced in their third sundance last weekend, an incredibly spiritual event. She hadn't even checked and heard about the dance. My friend, when she isn't using, is very very spiritual, smudging with sage everyday, praying to the creator, teaching her children to follow the red road. To hear her speak uncaringly of the sundance drove it home to me how much of my friend has been taken away by drugs. She says she won't use today, that she has to go clear to Salem to get it, that she'll come down to stay with me while she goes through the withdrawals. But I know the likelihood of that happening is slim. As the dope sickness hits her today, as she shakes with cold, then sweats, then vomits, then hurts all over.....Salem will seem a lot closer than here. And chances are, she'll choose Salem over life. Chances are she'll die soon. Chances are I'll have her precious little girl forever. And I want to cry and scream and shake my best friend, make her see what she's doing.

    But I've been there. I know she won't hear me. So I burn sage and pray for her. I shed tears for her. I take care of her daughter for her. And I hope that someday she'll be able to beat it.

    Don't EVEN try to tell me that heroin is OK. I know better and so does this little girl crying on my couch right now.
    HORRIBLE! The headache that haunts me is like the worst pair of new shoes you can imagine. Let me give you some advices based on my experience from yesterday:

    1. Don't drink too much
    2. If you accidentally drink too much, don't take a cab to the airport.
    3. In case you must take a taxi to the airport, don't order a flight ticket to London by phone while still in the cab.
    4. When you discover that the plane leaves tomorrow, don't try to be drunk all night so you don't get any second thoughts.
    5. Don't use your last money on a hotel room at 5.00 o'clock. You'll miss your plane (although you'll thank God for it the next morning).

    Pheew! I made a promise to never drink again when I woke up this morning. I had to withdraw it pretty soon though. Tonight I'm going to have a beer or two with some friends before they do military service for 10 months.

    A whole bunch of those pro-anorexia lists at yahoogroups.com have been deleted without prior warning. Which means I guess Yahoo! retracted their statement that these groups were protected by freedom of speech. Hmm, even though I am biased and even though I can also concede that these groups are certainly a little suspect in their nature, it seems that this is a complete act of not only ignorance, but hypocrisy. For starters, nobody in all the recent media which has shrouded the subject has portrayed an accurate, rounded picture of what these groups are really like. The Sally Jesse show edited it beyond compare, magazine articles take on a skeptical stance, the entire thing has been blown completely out of proportion. The support aspect of the groups has been completely denied as they focus more on the idea that these girls are not only ‘teaching’ each other how to undertake dangerous behavior, but apparently drawing in other girls to add to their ‘pro ana world’. The truth is a little more savoury. The tricks they teach each other are healthy in nature (as ‘healthy’ as anorexics can be). What I mean is, where an anorexic or anorexic wannabe might, left to their own devices, starve themselves too quickly, and too extremely, landing themselves in hospital with major organ damage, these groups maintain the mentality of ‘an anorexic lifestyle’ as opposed to actually dying. They educate themselves in nutrition and take proper vitamins and live the way they like (or they only way they can) in as healthy a manner as possible. A lot of women have been living this way for years and are strong and healthy and have never been in hospital. They are always concerned if somebody is pushing themselves too far, or blacking out or anything. As well, they are not trying to influence other girls. They know that their obsession is sick and not a desirable way to live, and they don’t like the idea that other girls might be inclined in such a direction. A post, of late:
    VISIT: {some site}

    Remember anorexia is a lifestyle, and we need to promote it to others, and by doing this we will grow stronger ourselves!

    I couldn’t even believe this, and apparently others couldn’t either because here are some examples of responses to that:
    um.......NO. This is what the fucking media is trying to nail us on! We’re not "forcing it" or "collecting anorexia disciples" or anything....the other anorexics COME TO US. We support, offer advice, work together by our own choice. If we "promoted" anorexia everyone would be dying...think about it....not to sound bitchy. Aw fuck whatever, but {insert name here}, this sorta made me ill....


    Not trying to down your views and opinions here but you're sounding a little bit like Hitler in the sentence. I definitely don't want to promote anorexia to anyone, I don't know about you but I am a part of these groups for support, acceptance and understanding not to be a part of some growing secret society that wants to convert young girls into the unhealthy life of an eating disorder.


    I think I'm just reinterating what every 1 else is saying. Eating disorders are not healthy!!!! We have developed them and it's totally unfair to make others go through this. Using that idea it's like leading the lambs to slaughter!!!!! I don't want to be associated to anything that could inflict torture on the unsuspecting!!

    I know that some e2ers feel that this type of group is just nasty and that they feel as though these people are glorifying their own personal terrors, but, although I can completely understand that, I don’t sympathise with it because in this world, there is always going to be somebody who wants what you have, who finds some beauty in something which you find ugly. And I don’t think we should let ourselves ever take things personally like that. If you have anorexia and hate it, I don’t think it should worry you how other people actually strive for it because that’s just the way things are. I have depression and I wouldn’t wish it upon anybody but I can still be objective and joke about it, even though it has and might still come close to killing me. I think people who pretend to be depressed are fairly pathetic but it doesn’t insult me personally.

    Anyway, the point is, I think it is appalling the way these pro-anorexia groups have been portrayed, although I also see it as a good thing. Although the truth hasn’t come out, it will also keep these groups smaller and more secretive, and therefore supportive, if there is a stigma attached to them. This will keep ‘curious’, impressionable girls who may not otherwise develop certain habits, from going there at all. Because if you did go there, you’d see how caring and friendly it all is, and for most girls it is the only place they are understood, the only place they are free from judgment. I don’t think, amongst all the pig shooters, necrophiliacs and anarchists, who basically encourage destruction on a wider scale, not to mention imposing it on others, pro anorexia groups should be systematically deleted when in some ways they are a very positive thing. They help these girls from getting too sick, and it is not as though they stop each other from making the choice to recover. It’s more pro-choice. The term pro-anorexia was probably coined incorrectly and misused, and misinterpreted, e.g. on the Sally Jesse show they stated that pro-anorexia stood for ‘promoting’ anorexia. Which is a complete fallacy. Yes, these girls are on a somewhat self destructive path but the majority of them will never land in hospital, never die. They seldom take things too far. They don’t feel as alienated, since they have in each other some sense of understanding. So there is no need to go as far. This is all a generalization, clearly there would be some girls who are extra sick, but the media has also depicted the groups in a not only a largely generalized light, but a stereotypical one. Besides, when is Yahoo! going to start deleting masochist groups, gothique groups, paedophilia groups?

    These groups will continue on despite this. Now, however, they will be more buried, they will take on inconspicuous names and make it harder for other anorexics to find any kind of support, apart from the recovering variety. Not all anorexics are ready for that yet, and will be further isolated.

    Rhapsody in Screwed :: Part (so screwed)

    08.02.01 :: 16:15

    well, i've been put on extended unpaid leave. in short, i got temporarily canned. due to the fact that the financial aid office cannot get their shit together, they will not be paying me until fall semester starts. great. just what i need out of life.

    in lighter news, the head storyteller of our friday nite pan-white wolf games has promoted me to vampire storyteller. woo-hoo. at least i get a free drink out of it. i s'pose i'll spend tonight finishing the overhaul on the big blue book of storyteller evil. i almost miss this stuff.

    well, back to closing up shop.

    Weather here is a tad warm...36° in the shade and sea temp of 27°. The maltese version of playboy is being launched on saturday, featuring maltese models throughout who will all be present at the open-bar launch. I'm not looking forward to it in the least but shall go there since I'm invited to prevent disappointment of the poor host. I'm still smoke free, must be about six weeks now..I still wish for a smoke occasionally, as in every time I've had a few drinks, ie, every single day...but don't actually crave them and manage to resist. I've stopped irrational snapping at everyone as a substitute for a smoke, so I suppose I should take that as a good sign and rejoice, celebrate, and drink. My relationship has taken another downhill turn in fifth gear, tyres screaming in a last ditch effort to grip the tarmac, coils groaning in an attempt to maintain stability...basically it revolves around the commitment issue and planning a future. I have no intention of doing so, and she whacked me with a sharp stick mentioning the unmentionable...buying property. I made it very clear that I'm not in the least inclined in that direction and now it's her turn to feel bad about me for being a kid and lacking the balls to take a long-term decision. So the ping-pong match has started...you're pissed off at me so you make me feel angry which makes you even further pissed off seeing me angry when you are the one who should be angry and reach dizzying heights of wrath. The positive feedback builds up to seismically measurable levels until I blow her top by laughing irrationally at the worst possible moment. There's only so much time that this situation can last...something inevitably happens to swing the situation one way or another so I'll hang on until it happens.

    Enough mundane rantings about yet another World Relationship Federation showdown....I'll switch to logging the beer festival...

    Pint...grin....pint....laugh....pint.....sober expression....pint....wave hello to girl i don't feel like speaking to...pint....crave a smoke....pint....friends' perimiters start blurring...pint...shit i have to drive home...pint....shit i have to drive Ron home and he's more fucked than I am....pint for the road.... Repeat for every day of the beer festival to spare me describing my varied and eventful week.

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