Today was disappointing. Another up and down sorta deal, with one major bummer to balance out the several smaller bright spots. I’m glad to be out of my distorted thoughts mode. It’s not about all or nothing these days. That was so three years ago.

Woke up, was tired. How often does this happen? It’s quite common. Promise. Got to school without a problem. First hour was nice, I worked on a copper wire sculpture to add to my portfolio eventually. It’s coming along nicely, although stripping the plastic off the wire is an ass pain.

Dissected a pigeon in second hour. We were trying to cut through the pectoral region, and found that our bird was a frickin’ hoss. He had a bigger breast than me. The sternum forced a detour, so we ended up getting to its digestive track by other means. Eventually everyone started to get lightheaded, but then Mr. Myers said it was okay to dilute the preservatives the birds had been sleeping in for quite some time. One girl was close to swooning. Wimp.

A.P. Stats was a bore, and I almost fell asleep for the first time in quite a while. No more Teresa Amibile films to watch day in and day out. Now we’re learning the nasty and boring stuff. Fifth hour was slow as well.

Lunch was the highlight of my day. I went to McDonalds with Stacy, and we spent an hour talking about all sorts of things. When I’m in my usual group of friends, we spend most of our time together joking around and being stupid. But when we get one on one, things are different. Guess that’s why we've all been friends since middle school. One of the main topics of our discussion was how certain phrases and subjects can trigger specific and uncontrollable feelings.

Stacy was saying that she couldn’t think of anything that anyone could say that would ever set her off. She’s an extremely laid back person.

I said there was only one thing that upset me these days, but was reluctant to talk about it in a public restaurant. But we were in an isolated section of the place, and I eventually opened up. The story:


…Once during my sophomore year, a girl I didn’t know whatsoever casually and cruelly said to me “Did you try to kill yourself?” She had seen the fresh scars on my arms, which I had just uncovered when taking off one of my ever-present sweatshirts. There were people everywhere, listening, waiting for my answer.

What was I supposed to say? “No, I just like to cut myself. You should try it.” Needless to say, although I have been safe for almost a year now, that subject still sets me off. Suicide and self-injury are not things to make fun of. At least not where I can hear you. Just a warning.

The following class balanced the higher points of my day. I challenged the girl ahead of me in band, and completely left her behind in my playing test. It was obvious to both of us who had won. But then the judge said I had made two articulation errors, and thus the other girl won by default. I pointed out that she had played several wrong notes and even had to start over once, but he said it was too close to call. Right. Tears came to my eyes in frustration, but you can’t beat The Man.

Seventh hour was interesting. Mr. Knoll likes to make up incredible stories and fictional pieces on the spot, and I enjoy listening. Unfortunately, I was called down to the guidance office to pick up a scholarship form to fill out tonight. I made it back in time to hear the conclusion. Something about JoJo Jr. being a pathological liar and inviting his girlfriend, Char, to Thanksgiving dinner after meeting someone in a muffler shop.

Had an A.P. Psych study session after school. It lasted an hour or so. I was taking notes for three people, being the kind soul I am. Got home around quarter to four in the afternoon, with enough time to check my e-mail and head off to the Asian grocery store across from Walgreens to meet Norman. Lisa let us use the copy machine there, so Norm could get my notes. We hung out for a bit, and then I had to get to work.

I closed while mopping to the sounds of Got the Life. Had to tie my braid around my head to keep my hair from getting in the mop water. Isn’t that a nice thought.

Now I just want to talk to Aaron and get some sleep.


10:49 PM: Last weekend, she cancelled on me.

It started out good. Wednesday night, I called her. Asked
her if she wanted to do something Saturday.. she happily
obliged.

Thursday: She asks me, "What movie are we going to see?"
Turns out she was sleepy and barely remembered agreeing
to do something.. We're going go see Quills on Saturday,
remember? Why not Friday? Well, I was going to ... , you
see. Oh, well.. I hate to say this but can we hold off
on doing anything until after this weekend? Why? Well,
you see, somewhere between here and New Orleans I lost $100
and I have to do christmas shopping.. I can pay for your
ticket, it's not a problem. Well.. I would feel bad about
bumming the money, and I would fall asleep anyway.. I could
probably get my x-mas shopping done during the day, too.
Do you, or don't you want to go? It's not that I don't
want to go. Ok. Saturday is fine. How about we
go to a matinee showing, at 12 or 1, so I can stay awake?
That's fine, I'm looking forward to it. Ok, cool.


Saturday: What showing do you want to see? It's showing
1:45 at X, does that sound good? Ok. You sound sick, are
you ok? Well, my lung still hurts and I am hacking up
lots of plegm. Do you still want to go, you sound really
sick? I told you I would go. It's ok if you don't want
to go, I understand. Why did you get mad the last time I
canceled on you? It's because .... well... when you
told me you weren't going to fall asleep and I asked if you
were sure, and then you got mad at me for doing that.. that
did not make me happy. Oh. So, I can pick you up around
1:15 and we'll make it there on time. How does that sound?
We.. Hello? Did you say something?
How would you feel if I wanted to stay home?
It's totally ok. You are really sick. But I was really
sick last time.

( I should have told her I made a mistake. )

No, really. Don't worry, about it, ok.

( Idle chatter. )

Sunday:

No. I really understand. You must have been going
through hell. Or at least something close to it. You
don't have to be mean to me. What do you mean? You are
so sarcastic. No.... I was not being sarcastic. I am
being serious. I have never had a respitory infection but
I imagine they would make one feel pretty bad. At least
you feel that way. I am not secretly mad at you. I really
understand. Ok? ok.

Monday:

How are you feeling? Sick. I'm still coughing and
hacking up stuff. Aw. You're so cynical. What?
Your aw sounded less than sincere. No, I was being sincere!
Please stop reading into things that I say. Sorry.

--

Monday as she was going to sleep I asked her if she thought
she would be feeling well enough to do anything this week
and she said yes. I asked her to call me when she wanted
to schedule something and she said will do. Tuesday has
passed without a call. I would think after not seeing me
for 3 weeks she would be wanting to do something with me.

1.) Maybe she doesn't want to do anything with me.

If so,
She has been cancelling and falling asleep but too afriad
to tell me how she really feels.

2.) Maybe she is scared that I am mad at her and will wait
until I schedule something with her.

3.) Maybe she is busy with other things and has simply
not thought to call me.

4.) Maybe I am blowing one day out of proportion. But she
should want to see me, shouldn't she?

--

My number of friends is really really dwindling. All my
online contact is anonymous through the developing of a new
persona. I think I am depressed.

It must be a walk down memory lane today.

I guess the most significant is that today is the first anniversary of my knee reconstruction operation. On December 20, 1999 I was admitted into The Prince of Wales Private Hospital, Randwick, Sydney to have a new anterior cruciate ligament for my left knee. The orthopaedic surgeon used the hamstring technique, aka the four loop semitendinous gracilis graft technique. I do remember that it was a bad time to have an operation so soon leading up to Christmas,; not because it spoilt the celebrations, but because I could not get reassurance from the medicos for the pain I was experiencing second week post-operatively, between Christmas and the New Year. The surgeon later apologised for the amount of post-operative bruising, but did not take responsibility for it; bad luck, he said . My leg, and later my ankle, went from bright purple to blue to yellow over the course of 3 weeks.

The Environmental Protection Agency, NSW sent a form for the renewal of my Radioactive Substance/Radiation Apparatus Licence in accordance of the Radiation Control Act, 1990. It had been a year since I graduated from dental school. Just 3 days before my operation. I graduated with Honours II Division I, coming fourth in my year on December 17, 2000 - a very proud moment in my short life. Now, I am no longer a "new grad", but a "recent grad".

My best friend e mailed me the news that she met my first boyfriend at a wedding in Melbourne. I haven't had any news of him for a whole year. He was playing in the jazz band at the wedding. She also met up with a whole gang of people who knew me during my days at Wesley College, The University of Sydney. She had not realise that the bride and groom knew me too! it's a small world!

And to top it all, my old friend sent me a photo of both us at her 8th birthday party along with her Christmas card. She's now living in Iowa. Married. We went to Assunta Convent School in Malaysia for our primary schooling… and conspired against our classmates during lunch times!

I was a troll, and I'm so ashamed. I did a really stupid hurtful thing, which at the time -- against all good sense -- seemed right. This monring I have a deep insight into my capacity to hurt others.

15:46

Thank you so very much for your kind words, simonc.
I'm not sure if I'm worthy of them, but I will try.
I love you too, man. Just like all the other wonderful everythingians I've encountered. (you know who you are)

I think this coming-in-early business I childishly complained about yesterday is actually paying off. I have been strangely productive all day, and longer hours mean more time to do some noding instead of actual work.
In addition to that, I have had the priviledge of inhaling ethanol and cinnamon fumes all day. This is due to our parent company having a formal Christmas party for clients and business partners. For some reason they have to use our kitchen for preparing the traditional xmas drinks, and this room is right next to it. Ahh, the sweet stench of cinnamon... Our entire firm also visited the stiff and formal party, where our CEO made a commendable attempt at making small talk with us lower class lifeforms.

I am definitely in the holiday mood today. The reason is hard to pinpoint - main factors must be simonc's emotional (drunken? :)) ramblings, my success in being a good employee today and the winter that finally arrived. Hopefully I'm not coming down any time soon.
But there is work to be done, so I have to stop here. Happy downvoting.

4 day logs in a row ?!
WTF?
No wonder the systematically downvoting cowards hate me. Well, kiss my XP whoring ass for all I care.
Still, in fear of being typecast I must continue one of my major projects before submitting any more pointless diary things.


00:39
on December 21, 2000

Once again, E2 has persuaded me to do something I wouldn't even consider otherwise. I joined the SparkMatch Registry craze and submitted myself to the system.
Believe me, I didn't do this to find anyone.
For me, the fact that fat, ugly geeks aren't the type that interests the members of that mysterious other gender became obvious approximately 5 years ago. I can't say it doesn't bother me at all - sometimes it really gets me down - but I'm not desperately trying to achieve something that simply can't be done.
This was simply a communal activity kind of thing. 99.9% of the active noders remain complete strangers to me, and maybe this will make a difference.

Well, it seems like Simon withdrew the nice things he said about me. Was it all just ethanol talking? IMHO there's no need to feel ashamed about any overly negative/positive comments.. It comes with the territory when noding while drunk. I myself have said stuff I wish I hadn't a few times noding in the middle of my traditional weekend gloom, but I see them as valuable pieces of history. Or something.

Ok, I'm not making any sense here. Time to go and enjoy my nightly downtime dosage.
And sorry for not finishing the new Moog writeup today. Tomorrow it will be there for everybody to ignore.
Good night.

So the Patty Duke Show theme is playing in my head as I'm getting ready for work, but I'm in Williamsburg (the non-yuppie southern half), not in Patty's out-of-my-price-range Brooklyn Heights. I spent my first night in my apartment; I had a cigar with me (Dominican), but ended up smoking about a quarter-inch of it before giving up.

The place looked nice (sorta) when the broker showed it to me, about ten days ago, and I was slightly giddy at the chance to finally have my own place, but, after my cousin helped me move my boxes there, and cased the joint, he gave me a nice, small, healthy dose of urban paranoia -- I need bars on a couple of windows; any potential neighborhood burglars are watching me, the new guy, since, aside from the fact that I speak little Spanish (the guy at the bodega next door spoke to me in English, sort of a "Thanks for your patronage... foreigner!" gesture), I'm exhibiting, obviously, signs of sucker-moving-into-the-neighborhood. So, in the worst case scenario, someone's watching the times at which I enter and leave the building, taking notes.

Sometimes it pays to have law-enforcement folks and ex-felons in the family.

It's not a good feeling to worry about securing the place, but better safe than sorry. My cousin even suggested looking into ADT. Better safe than sorry.

Now I've had the chance to look over the apartment in earnest. It's not pretty, but it's mine. Just your garden-variety ancient tenement, the sort that will, if logistically feasible, be razed in a few years time, to make room for more yuppies. Where will the locals go? The pols and slumlords don't seem to give a monkey's.

So, within the constraints of not spending too much, the owners have put in a new fridge, new sinks, new toilet, new tub. The shower, unfortunately, seems designed for Herve Villechaize. The gas isn't turned on -- I can't cook (my breakfast was a few swigs from my liter-bottle of Pepsi), nor can I boil water for coffee or tea. My coffee maker sits in North Carolina, and has seen better days; I haven't seen its basket lid since 1989, I think. It's time for a new coffee maker. I fly to North Carolina on Friday, to pack up the aforementioned device, and the other 90% of my belongings (Dave, if you're reading this: the amp and stomp boxes remain yours to keep, assuming you haven't sold everything for a dime bag of magic beans or something).

I'm hoping to install the window bars before leaving here; although I'm going to NC to pack (and recuperate from non-stop NYC), I'm not sure if I have the money to move my stuff; it would help if I'd take the time to balance my check book. The guy at the hardware store asked me to measure the windows, which I did, around 12:30 AM; these two "matching" windows are more-than-a-little different in dimension -- I'm glad I didn't take the lazy route and measure just one. Another fine "design feature" is the living-room window sill -- it slopes at a 20° angle.

Needing curtains in a jiffy, I'd stopped at the K-Mart downstairs during my lunch break yesterday. Plenty of Martha Stewart® stuff, which I dutifully bought. In my ignorance, I bought one curtain per window, finding out last night that I'd have to stretch the bastids to the max to get them to cover each window. I have to buy five more curtains now. And a couple of curtain rods; I broke a couple of the tension rods I bought yesterday -- they came without instructions, and I improvised their assembly in such a way that they're now useless. After reaching knifegirl on the phone, she straightened me out on how to install the bastids -- so easy, even a child of five could do it.

I'm not five.

...but I do play an adorable four-year-old on a top-rated sitcom. That's the power of makeup and... acting!

Adventures at Mom's House

Friday.

Run to a friends house to pick up the last bit of Mom's Christmas gifts. Frantically finish packing and wrapping. Wait for the Man to come over. He brings a movie, "The Mack". I fall asleep (I always do).

Saturday.

Wake up early, walk the dog. Man doesn't want to wake up. We have to leave in an hour. I get dressed, shower, and double check that everything is packed. Jenn calls, "Are you awake?" "Yep." Good thing she didn't ask if Man was awake. So I go into the bedroom and sit on the Man. "You gotta wake up!" "Why do we have to get up so early?" "Because we're leaving in an half hour." "Oh."

Knock knock knock.

Jenn's here. Man has gotten dressed just in time, but his shoes still aren't on. He's reading the news. Me and Jenn gather suitcases. Man gets up and puts on his shoes and finally we shove suitcases and gifts into the trunk of her car. Walk Cozmo one final time, then hit the road for the four hour trip to nowhere.

Arrive at Mom's to find a Christmas tree set up. We giggle and huggle, and generally act like children. Our plans are to go to dinner then open gifts. "But," I say, "Mom should open up just one of her gifts. She can take it to dinner." "I'll open one if you'll each open one," says Ma. So we wind up opening all of them right then and there. Then we go to dinner. After dinner we just hang out until we're tired.

Sunday.

Sleep. I'm not doing it too well, I'm worried about Cozmo chewing up Mom's house. At one point, I hear a sound like water and I check to make sure Cozmo hasn't spilled anything. He's asleep behind me. I look down from the loft into the living room, and everything looks okay. The water sound is just the rain. So I go back to bed. 3:30 AM: Jenn gets up to go to the bathroom. She checks to make sure Cozmo hasn't chewed anything and discovers a river of mud in the living room. "Mama! Mama! The house is flooding!" We all run to see. It's horrifying, and we don't have any way of dealing with it. Mom manages to get the flood to stop, but there's mud and water everywhere. And it's COLD. Bone chilling cold. It's melted snow. Mom calls her brother and he shows up with a shop-vac. We get to work. At 5:30 we decide sleep isn't going to happen, so we go straight to breakfast, then to buy a steam cleaner. We clean the carpets all day, until we are due at a party for my cousin who is back home from Germany. I can barely keep my eyes open. I'm tired and getting cranky. I go to bed early.

Monday.

Wake up around ten, Cozmo made a mess but it's my own fault for sleeping late. We were going to go to breakfast, but Grandma wants to take us to lunch at 11:30 so we skip it and go shopping. The store near Mom's has a Christmas tree with gift tags on it that list gender, age, and a gift that the kid wants for Christmas. So many tags. I want to take them all and buy every kid everything they want. I take three tags, and buy a Mickey Mouse watch, a Power Puff Girl doll and gloves, and a model car. It feels so insignificant. There are so many more tags left.

Lunch at the Maple Street Cafe. Wine, portobello mushroom, chicken wrap, potato soup. Head back home. Mom enlists the big strong men to help move the last of her furniture in. Then us young'uns head out to spend time away from the adults. I get cranky again. We have dinner out, and come back just in time to make homemade ice cream. I don't feel good. I just sit there, ignoring everyone. 'Till Cozmo eats all of the other dogs' food and gets sick. Then I apologize to everyone.

After ice cream, we go back to Mom's, and gather everything up so we will be ready to leave in the morning. The Man has a 5:25pm flight, and we will have to really push ourselves in the morning. Mom sets her alarm for 8:00am, and we go to sleep.

Tuesday.

I wake up at 7:00am and walk Cozmo. I decide not to go back to bed for another hour, it'll only make me more groggy. Jenn gets up, too, and so I decide to wake Man up so we can get an earlier start.

Snow is forcasted, but shouldn't start until later in the morning, we shouldn't hit any on the way home. But we do. In Harrisburg, it's really coming down and the roads are well covered. We're all nervous. We have to go slow.

We arrive and my house at 12:30pm and Man and I pile out. He is pressed for time, but shouldn't have any problems making his flight. It's not snowing as bad in Germantown as it was further north, but that doesn't last long. It starts to really snow, and Man heads home to pack up suits, laptop, and other stuff for his business trip. I smooch him farewell, then fall asleep in the bathtub for a couple of hours.

With the snow falling, I want a fire but I'm out of wood. So I grab the yellowpages I've been collecting for three years and make a reasonable fire using those. I fall asleep on the couch and wake up at 10:30pm. I walk Cozmo, then crawl into bed for the night.

An interesting note about our drive home: We passed two roll-over car accidents on the snowy drive home. Both were SUV's.
I am the last remaining person in my house before Christmas. My last flatmate has left, queued for his bus ticket and got on the bus to Birmingham.

What does this mean?
Well it means that I can play in the computer however long I like without getting distracted by people laughing. No I don't find it irritating, I just have the immediate urge to find out what they are laughing at.
Now I have to prepare for making my own way to my parental home. Clean the kitchen - it shouldn't take too long, we've been good this year. I also have to do the lounge, but that's a quick job as well. I'm mostly worried about what I'm going to do when I'm not at work.
Knowing me, I'll end up playing Tomb Raider III, Homeworld: Cataclysm or my new game Dungeon Keeper II. Does this seem sad? I don't know but I never seem to have the time to play on the computer as much as I used to.

I have to think of what I'm going to eat over the next couple of days. Since I'm going out for a meal on Friday I can just get some tatties and some sauces. I won't die of malnutrition anytime soon. Bugger, I also have to clear out the fridge and put out the bins.
I can't help feeling that I get landed with all of these jobs when it's time to back after term finnishes.

Oh well, enough of the random thoughts.

This company is so funny! Yesterday we had a big meeting about the software development process and how it was going to change. One part of the process was to limit the use of the e-mailing system, in effect, imposing people to walk around the office more in order to communicate ideas. Well...

11:00am EST
...what's happening? I am seeing more people walking around like they were lost, as if, they have never been to a certain part of the office, or don't know where the person they are looking for is situated in this cubicle farm. What a hilarious sight indeed! But a good thing comes out of this: people will become less introverted.

11:30am EST
Now it's getting out of hand. People are talking too much and it's increasing the overall noise level. Ugh.

Well what I've known for weeks is finally confirmed this little dot com is going belly up and I'm going to lose my job. Not that we haven't known this for weeks, well a least the paranoia might calm down a little and we might stop getting told different things every other day.

And despite this, despite this coming at the end of a long chain of disasters - a long term relationship breaking up, discovering the bank had fucked up without telling me and I have 6 months of rent arrears to clear up - not to mention the fact that that house is leaking water left, right and center in one of the wettest winters on record and is now becoming infested with rats that keep me awake at night scurrying past my head, despite all this I feel happier than I've felt for a while. Genuinely happy, in that gentle, calm balanced way that makes you know its real.

Why this should be I don't quite know, though I have a shrewd idea. Its as if all these external things have been given me the strength and focus to start to deal with the internal things and figure out what's really important. I am reminded, as I often am in these sorts of situations, of the lines from Gary Snyder's poem 'I went into the Maverick Bar'

under the tough old stars--
In the shadow of bluffs
      I came back to myself,
To the real work, to
"What is to be done."

A day for killing!!


Starts off at night of the following day, that being the 18th. I got home from DEUM and went to my room. I opened the door and all I saw was a concrete floor with nothing else inside it! I was all "what the" and I asked my mom what was going on.

"We're putting tile in your room so we stripped the carpet."
Where am I supposed to sleep?" I asked.
"On the couch in the living room."

GRR!!!

So I fell asleep pretty fast and woke up 12 hours later. My mom told me I had to strip the carpet from my closet so that meant I had to remove a bunch of crap (not literally) off the floor and do whatever. "I hate today." GRR!!

I got my first postcard today, thank you Girlface!! Send me your postcards!! Look at my homenode for more info.

Anyways, I did what I had to and a friend of mine that I had not seen for a long time came over. He's my lil' bro (once again not literally), we played guitar and put some things in his computer like FruityLoops and Getright. Ehh, he left at about 1:30 in the morning, nothing new, nothing old, a boring day.



A day for killing!!

today was good......YEAH RIGHT!!! today was how they say, shit! this is mainly because of my pay rise at work. £3, hardly worth it.well i just smiled and said "thanks thats great". and then on leaving the office i muttered under my breathe "YOU SHEEP SHAGGER". i then slammed the door in his mother humpin face!!!!!!!!.....apart from that, my day was good though. i got talkin to the girl in the greasy estate cafe(nice ass, big, but nice).she said my overalls made me look kinda sexy.....i left then(so as to leave it on a good note.....before i said somat stupid, and ruin it). i was supposed to be at burton college today, but i had lots of work to hand in.....i'll deal with it next year i think.

i leave u on the note that bosses are evil money grubbin TOSSERS......over and out

yesterday, continued...

01.45 gmt

After having spent some 5 hours on the Subcity Radio website, me and Rick call it a night. I walk out the office to go to the toilet, and notice a constant beeping coming from somewhere. It's the alarm control panel, and there's a big red LED next to "FIRE" in big red writing. I'm a little worried..
nevertheless, I go to the toilet, and on my way back down the stairs, slip, fall on my ass and twist my ankle, which consequently hurts like hell.

We leave the building to see a few fire engines pull up and some firemen trooping into the main building, and all is well. Other than my ankle.

15.15 gmt
After having done very little all day, I go into town to do some Christmas shopping. And end up with one thing, a gift box from purveyors of smelly things for baths, Lush. It's already giftwrapped... Still not found anything for mum, though.
17.00 gmt
Catch a bus back out the the uni to continue work on the Subcity site. There isn't a lot for Rick to do, so I just get on with boring tweens and buttons in Flash. The end result is pretty sweet, though - a file around 100k which looks really snazzy, and gets the job done without being intrusive at all. With any luck, I'll be able to control it externally, from another frame, with Javascript. Or perhaps that's being too hopeful?
23.00 gmt
'Tis done. Well, other than the one missing image, and the other munged one, but I ought to be able to fix that from home. I catch the last subway home and wonder why I can't put that much effort into stuff I get paid for. (Maybe it's because nobody's paid me to sit in front of a G4 with Apple Studio Display? Those things are sweet, man)
It is getting impossible to eat the vegetarian chili I made a couple of nights ago. I am literally force-feeding the mushy stuff... then it all gets stuck in my chest so I have to quickly gulp down a glass of water to shove it through my system. That is the hard part about cooking for one; once you make an actual meal you have to eat it night after night after night.

Didn't do the greatest in Operations Research. I missed studying a chapter and I paid dearly. In the middle of the exam I snuck out and ate a chocolate bar to give more energy - it helped. The exam ended at 10:00 pm last night and then I read 150 pages of Flowers for Algernon. Now I am thinking a lot of the obvious thoughts about the +s and -s of being intelligent. The author seemed to make increased intelligence like being more conscious. It is a pretty good point as being intelligent can be equated to being more literate. If you are attuned to more things, why wouldn't the world around you be more vivid and seem more complex.

However, I cannot concede that being intelligent makes you more emotionally racked and self-centered as is asseted in the book. If you are so clever you can certainly find a way to soothe yourself. I am tired of smart sissies complaining that they want to be simple. Shut-up and appreciate your fucking gifts.

Then nothing else happened except that my landloard found my right mitten.

Sometimes things just up and leave you confused and you're really not sure how to handle it. Or even where it came from. That has been my week.

I had trouble sleeping again last night. All the old things, the selective phobias that badger me in the dark, came running back to throw themselves at me once again. It is useless. As much as I scream at myself that no, this is not going to happen to me, I cannot help myself and when I turn off the thoughts as words, I obtain representations of the fear as images that just flash across that part of the brain that precedes translation into coherent thought.

The image of the most innate fear is a corrupted circle, somewhat resembling a hurricane on a weather map. The interior is red, with a blue outline and flecks of black and yellow and a grey background. There is an off-center eye, it is outlined in black and the area directly surrounding it is yellow. I do not know the significance of the primary colors. The image is distorted as if it had been spun around and around, and yes, it has been.

Blake wanted to call me again but I would not let him. He wanted to tell me how disappointed he was in me. Why would I want anyone to tell me that? I made up some excuse and he got angry and signed off AIM. People should just stop caring so damn much.

...my grades came in and I made a 2.6 this semester. I was very surprised that I made an A in my educational psych class, and I expected an A in Spanish of course. B in health psych, C in government and an F in history. Note to myself: sleeping through class is bad.

At work, they destroyed our old proxy server. Actually, they just destroyed the WSP portion to it - we still have access to the HTTP portion. What this means for us: No AIM, no shell access, no access to simple diagnostic tools such as ping and traceroute. This will be remedied soon. I will have shell access. It just takes time and good ideas. I have not been instrumental in making this happen, that is, I am not the one carrying out the plan! But I have provided a few suggestions and feedback so I still feel like I am helping, at least those of us that are being screwed by this lack of freedom.

Creativity is finding its way back home. Today I got out my guitar and actually sat down for 15 minutes and got something on tape that I would not be ashamed to play for other people. No, it is not complete. Yes, most of it was just chaos set to music. But it is a beginning. It felt very good.

but even if we could get everything we wanted, who is to say that we would still be happy?

I just read through all of my nodes up to this point and realized that I haven't written a daylog since December 2nd. I also realized that my first wave of nodes really stunk, possibly due to the wickedly powerful prescription narcotic I was on at the time. That stuff really scattered my EEG to the wind. I did get some interesting poetry out of it though.

So much has happened in that short span of time, my mind tries to think about it and recoils in horror. I'm writing this daylog on fumes.

Today is day seven of the tedious job from the seventh level of hell (note: anyone reading this /msg me if you know what level 7 is). My current form of "shit, I'm out of moolah" work is folding things at a department store; I was transferred form the loading dock where I worked this summer. I can't think of two jobs more diametricaly oppsed than these two. The pay is alright, but the work itself is absolutely maddening. I am spending my time fighting a war of attrition, cleaning up after the overfed suburban multitudes with their fat fucking SUV's and their fat wallets buying Christmas gifts for people they don't even like. They all seem so pissed off, and I wonder if the holidays are realy what the holiday songs (which I am forced to listen to over and over again thanks to the store's Muzak system) are imparting upon our patrons. My job is to keep things tidy, but it only takes one inconsiderate and discontent (and most likely sexually unsatisfied) middle-aged harpie and thirty seconds to destroy a half an hours work. I was considering bringing a long pointy stick to work, but have moved up to 440 volt cattle prod.

My name is Pretzellogic and I hate fucking Christmas. Don't get me wrong; I like gift giving. I like sitting with my family and gradually waking up while sharing morning coffee by the tree. I like getting mildly drunk on really good eggnog and wassil. But I hate hate hate fucking HATE the god-damn corporate institution this holiday is. Much of this btterness has come strictly from watching these people shop, scrambling over the last chenille sweater or Razor scooter. Makes me fucking ill watching these swine, and cleaning up after them.

Ten hours of my day was spend in the Misses (women's) and Women's World (large women's) sections, endlessly folding piles of hideous embroidered sweatshirts and sweaters with five pounds of metallic beads sewn onto them.

I'm out of school now, and have traveled from the Frozen North to Albany, NY, where I will be for another few days. After that I will make the trip home to Rochester, NY. Nothing like family for the holidays.

I'd write more but my head is still swimming from the near-toxic levels of perfume I was exposed to this afternoon and evening from a handful of mid-life females attempting to impress one another. These women were emitting scent-waves visible to the naked eye.

Enough of this. Time to wash my face, brush my teeth, plug in the charger for the MOOOOve Along™ prod, and go to sleep.
Toodles.


10/8/01 Note: I honestly don't remember why I was so angry...
This is my first entry into the Daylog. It's my third day here, and while I am really enjoying E2, I can't help but notice that there is are a lot of folks here that are uptight about nodes and writeups in nodes.

I've not noded very much, because I am afraid of being down-voted. I know I should also probably softlink in this writeup, or take the time to do some snazzy HTML crap (like everyone else does), but... I'm just don't really feel like it.

I've already gotten downvoted once really badly since I've been here for making a joke in the Who should play you in "Everything the movie"? node. I didn't mean to be all GTKY about it, I was just joking because I thought it was a silly node. I said something like I was too busy winning the lottery and conquering Western Europe, and I would just have Jay Mohr phone it in for me. I didn't think it was too bad, but it got the crap down-voted out of it. I think it was mainly because I was new, and people were all like "Let's teach this newbie a lesson!" or something. I'm not really sure... but I'm pretty apathetic about it. I just had it deleted. No big deal. It's not like I'm going to stop coming to E2 because of it. Most people are mean - that's just the nature of the world. I'm not going to let it spoil my fun of reading people's great nodes and writeups here. I'll post every once in a while, but... like I said -- I'm pretty paranoid about getting a bad rep... so save of this rant, I'll do my best to save the writeups for stuff I really think should be in here.

I am tired. Since I quit my last job as a network engineer, I now work in an automobile factory (I live in Detroit). It's a switch for me, but it's not like people are beating down my door to hire me, so... I guess I'm just supposed to do this for a while. The worst part about the whole thing is that my girlfriend also works at a crappy auto factory, and she works the other shift... so we don't get to spend a lot of time together anymore. That's the worst. I feel like I have a roomate that I occaisonally get to "trade booty" with. That's too bad. I want so much to be able to share my life and my experiences and all of my free time with her, but instead lately I just... node. It's depressing. I'm an alcohollic, so I don't drink. I just sit here, with my legs sore from standing all day, and the tele always playing something silently in the background (Right now, it's Linklater's Slacker, which I've always loved). Things aren't the best, but I know they'll get better, because everything happens for a reason.

I've got my Diet Coke, so I am sure that I will survive. Even if I am hungry. E2 has really done a lot for me in the past few days. It's made me start thinking about writing again. I took a really extended vacation from writing anything, and this site has (almost) awakened something in me. I only hope that I can be a useful and worthwhile contributor to this impressive (if not sometimes initmidating) archive as time passes. I am sure that I will. Thanks to everyone that's helped me since I've gotten on here. Be good.


Also, as a side effect, the more my girlfriend and I are actually home together and she sees me on E2, the more she seems to be showing interest. She's brilliant and a far superior writer than I. I hope she takes some time and falls in love with this place, too.

I took my two-year-old daughter, Hannah, to see Santa Claus for the first time today.

She was so excited, she was practically bubbling over at breakfast this morning. All she could talk about was that after play-school she'd be going to see Santa. We had explained that she needed to tell him what she wanted and that he would bring it to her for Christmas.

Well, it took her no time at all to settle her mind on what she wanted. Since watching the doctor check her mother's heartbeat at the hospital the other day, Hannah has been obsessed with the stethoscope. She wanders around all day explaining to anyone who will listen that the doctor uses a stethoscope to "listen to Mommy's heartbeep." She immediately piped up that she wanted Santa to bring her a stethoscope so she could listen to the baby's heartbeep.

We got to the mall, got in line, and somehow managed to keep her occupied until it was her turn to walk in to see the old elf. She marched proudly in (all 20 pounds of her, she's very small for her age) and the following conversation occurred:

Santa: Hiya, there, widdle girlie-girl! What's widdle girlie-girl's name? (Editorial aside: don't speak to children as if they are stupid. It's rude, condescending, and inexcusable.)
Hannah (sticking her hand out to shake): I'm Hannah.
Santa (picks her up): And would the widdle girlie-girl wike a widdle dolly for Christms?
Hannah (looking at Santa as if he has been smoking crack): No, I want a stethoscope for Christmas.
Santa (astonished at hearing the word 'stethoscope' from a child wearing a 18-month sized outfit): Oh. Do you want to be a doctor when you grow up? (at least he doesn't sound like a moron anymore).
Hannah: Noooooooo, I want to listen to my brother Simon's heartbeep. (Now she's talking to him like he's stupid)

With that, she smiled at the camera and hopped down to run over to me. Santa complimented her speaking, and I brought one ecstatic little girl home from the mall to tell her Mommy all about it.

And I have it on pretty good authority that Santa has, indeed, set aside a little stethoscope just for Hannah this year. <smile>

Dec 21 9:37 AM

Forgot to daylog yesterday.

I had another crazy day at work, with stuff stacking on faster than I can pull it off. My brother came by my apartment and went down to Red Lobster to put in a job application. He's going to stay with me while he goes to college. It should be interesting. We all went to Best Buy and then Roadhouse Grill.

Sara left me a picture on her way up to Melbourne, Florida for the holidays. It's the only picture of me at the christmas party where my eyes aren't closed. It's very nice; I picked up a $100 canon scanner so I can scan it in and put it up on my website. I started scanning a bunch of my old pictures as well; they're easier to find and manage on a computer.

TC called me last night from Seattle to find out if we're working on Friday or not. I told her that I wasn't sure. She wants to know becuase she's getting back at 7am on Friday and doesn't feel too positive about going into work right after that, especially if it's only a half day. She asked how everything's going since I haven't seen her since the christmas party. She asked about me and Sara and said that people think we have chemistry together. That made me feel good. I was kind of hesitant to start moving from a friendship to a relationship with her, but I think this is encouraging and will give me some confidence when the time comes (perhaps after the holidays).

Wow. Cruises these days have internet access. This "Cybercafe" costs 0.75 a minute.. ICK. Spent about $10 already trying to hax0r this little terminal. Hopefully that'll be 0.10/min now. ;) BTW, I'm on the Norwegian Wind owned by Norwegian Cruise Lines...

Merry Christmas/Hanakuh!!! (WHOA, my SP needs help - but not at $0.75/min - sorry)

Hope ya'll have a phat day. I'll be chillin in the middle of the gulf tommorow - then Roatan on Tuesday, Belize City on Wednesday, and Cozumel on Thursday... w00t.

Noding for the ages is tough when you're in such a rush.. Espically when the entire place is slowly swaying. The sea really is beautuful at night... Even from 60 feet up on a cruise ship.

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