July 15, 2001

Yesterday was the victorious homecoming after a week spent in BFE. I love my grandmother with all my heart, but I cannot understand why she chose to live in the middle of nowhere. The closest semblance of civilization is the dilapidated barn a few miles down the road from her house, and a few miles farther is the little village of Milton. There’s a gas station, a grocery store, a church. Not much else.

The thirteen hour drive was not that awful. We only hit one traffic jam, just east of Grand Rapids, MI. The rest of the drive went quite quickly, when I was able to ignore the constant arguing between my brother and my dad. Adam, my bro, enjoys going about thirty mph over the speed limit at any given time. My dad prefers that he try to keep it down to twenty over, max. This leads to bickering and excuses followed by ultimatums which are never carried through. So we continued to speed down country roads and most of Canada going a little over 100mph. The speed occasionally dropped down to around 80 when there was serious construction accompanied by a man with the coveted job of holding the SLOW sign on the side of the road while wearing a bright vest and helmet.

The week we spent in Vermont was quite boring, but seeing family is always nice. Especially when they live so far away. I had not seen my grandma since Tulip Time 2000. My cousins and I have been apart for four years, my aunts and uncles even longer. Here’s a list of the people I visited while there:

• Grandma: we stayed at grandma’s house, so we saw her quite often, believe it or not. My brother and I got to sleep on the old bunk beds in the guest room, which I can remember sleeping on since we were really little. Anyway, grandma is very short and very sweet, with extremely long finger nails and thin arms leading to a kind face and sharp wit. She hasn’t been herself since grandpa died, though.

• Uncle Joe : my dad’s older brother by four years and some months. That makes him about 53. Uncle Joe’s real name is Burton Frank II (named after grandpa), but he was dubbed Little Joe to avoid confusion in the household during his younger years. Uncle Joe is a retired Master Sergeant in the Navy, a very strong and very formidable man. However, he is harmless once you get to know him.

• Kimberly : Uncle Joe’s oldest child, the middle of us three granddaughters. She is 21 and living with her boyfriend, Jason. She still speaks with a southern drawl, saying “ya’ll” instead of "you guys." I am trying to teach her the correct way of speaking. She has recently broken her habit of calling all pop "coke," and this is all the improvement I expect to see any time soon. Silly Louisianans.

• Matthew : the youngest of all the grandchildren, and Uncle Joe’s youngest son. He is extremely sharp for being the thirteen year-old he is, and enjoys making fun of my brother in all his stupidness. Matthew has had a speech impediment since birth, but I am one of the few who understand him.

• Aunt Barb : Uncle Joe’s wife and my dad’s sister-in-law. She’s very nice to most people, but has made Kimberly’s life a living hell. Aunt Barb is thin, smokes Misty Light 100s like a chimney, and has had the same hair style since the sixties. She is very polite and quite charming to those who can see past her many quirks.

Burton Frank III, Uncle Joe’s oldest son, is away at boot camp in Chicago, so he was not around to help everyone with the moving of all grandma’s possessions.

After five days of nonstop hauling and packing, my grandma’s house of 29 years was cleared. It was sad to see the familiar rooms and hallways cleared of their decorations and furniture, but that's the way it is. A certain Mr. Baxter stopped by several times daily to see how things were going, bearing gifts of food each time. He is one of grandma’s suitors. He’s nice, quiet, respectful, and 81 years old. Grandma says she wants a man in his 60s if she wants another man at all. She and my grandpa were married for 56 years, and she misses him with all her heart.

When I got home, I was ecstatic to see my new notebook computer waiting for me on the counter in the kitchen. It’s a Sony PCG-XG500 Pentium III, 700MHz, 128MB, 10GB hardrive, with an 8X DVD player, Ethernet card and a 14.1inch monitor. It’s very pretty. I’m waiting til I get to school this fall to hook everything up and get it running. For now I can stick with my dad’s computer.

I have spent today eating Papa John’s breadsticks, watching Lifetime, and sleeping. I plan to continue these activities until further notice.

A co-worker set up the first batch of our new VA Linux boxes )yes, we ordered them before we hear the news). He also hooked up a VA-100 to them... What a sweet site! Some very nice processing power (they are all dual-1GHz Pentium III's with 2 or 4 GB RAM). Now I get to install our applications and watch them rock during some pounding/performance tests I'll do.

Meanwhile, a different co-worker whom I'm dog & house sitting for has a nice house...and his Cat-5 outlets scattered throughout the house, near nice comfy couches have made for a relaxed yet productive day between me and my laptop.

I also got to go out and walk the dog over by the river again. This was before the rain we got, thankfully. There were lots of people by the river, and the dog had a great time too.

This day of relative quiet has had me thinking some about my life. However, I have not came to any grand conclusions. I am not sure if this is a bad or a good thing. I guess that I am kinda coasting along, or some might say I'm in a rut. I have not gotten around to an exercise program, nor any significant diet improvements (other than cutting back on salt). I'm just not interested. My social life has picked up, though...maybe once I get fully back into that scene, I'll start to care more.

I'm looking for a book that grabs my interest, that makes me want to keep reading it. It has been a while since I've had a book keep me reading like that....I miss it. Reading was always one of the things that helped keep my life a little bit balanced. Right now, I'm so into work that I am getting a little dull, I'm afraid. Heck, I'm not even going to go back to my past day logs, because I bet they are 70% or more about my job. Sigh. But its not that bad--I'm content.

Job situation: prognosis positive!

A lot has happened since my last daylog, but I like to just do one round-up of the activities of the week in my Sunday night node so I'm going to put it all here.

I came back from Tamworth on Monday. The bus was supposed to get to the station at 4:30am but due to the snow in the hills it got there 2 hours late. Sweet. I love hanging around the bus station in the freezing cold! Anyway, 4 hours later I was met in Newcastle by my beautiful boy and a dozen red roses. It was a gorgeous reunion. He's still my beautiful boy.

In the car on the way home from the station my boy told me he had some good news and some bad news for me. Immediately I was thinking "Oh my god, the budgie/rabbit is dead/ he lost his job/ his mum is sick". But no: one of my write-ups was nuked. After all those horrible images I really didn't care. It was a crap write-up anyway.

But the good news: someone had rung earlier that day to tell me I HAVE A JOB! It was the job I did an interview for three weeks ago (see June 12, 2001)- the person who'd taken it had quit that day, and they needed someone to start the next day- Tuesday! Yay!

So now I've been there almost a week, and everything is grand. I'm a report writer for a private investigation company. Basically, we're hired to do surveillance on people who may be trying to rort the insurance companies (after car accidents, slipping on a shopping centre floor, etc), and my job is to compile the investigator's notes and videos into a formal report to be used in court (if the case gets that far). It's really frustrating having to learn all the formal jargon and not having a developed instinct on how to look at the videos properly. Sigh. But it's really cool to have a full time job, my own desk, my own cup for the water cooler, my own boss.

I think I'm just easy to please.

We went to a party on Monday night (I always like to have a big night the day before I start a new job) and it was good fun. I got some bad news from a friend but as too many mutual friends are e2ians I can't talk about it here. Which is a pity, 'cause I'd like to. But apart from that, Monday night was really good. Everyone was in a good mood, and there was plenty of goon/beer/pot, and cool music, as always.

Yesterday one of our best friends came and visited from Sydney. We basically ate a lot together, and last night drank a lot together. We went to the Exchange and caught up with the boys and watched them play pool (and watched a "sexy" blond woman pose all around the pool table as she played, and watched them watch her) and then exited stage left to play Quake II and Music 2000 at home on the PSX. And drink more. Then today we went to the park and played hacky for a few hours before I did many stupid handstands, cartwheels and splits. It was a really great weekend, all in all.

Final word on my employment: This is my first "proper" job; I look forward to getting to dread going to it in the future. Maybe that will be tomorrow. I've got an 8 minute video to do a report on. Yay.

And so here we are, 50 million strong on the eve of the chance to revisit every dream and every little hope.

She said the sunrise that morning reminded her of the military newsreel of a A-bomb detonation. I thought that was somewhat ironic. Likening one great beginning to one absolute end. By that time the lust of night had passed us by, so long in preparation, and so empty in its conclusion. After the orgasm there is no goal.

What is the use of longing if it just ends in the anticlimax of a moan?

WE ARE HERE NOW TO PROPAGATE THE DANCING VISIONS IN OUR HEADS.

With the help of substance made illegal by governments seeking to close the doors of our minds. With no entrances, nothing new can get in. And after all, new is dangerous. THE ESTABLISHMENT HAS ALWAYS FEARED CHANGE, AND IT ALWAYS WILL.

So, nuclear dawn. The here and now. No drugs, a mild revolution. Lethargic revolutionaries who have already blown their load. No more lust, no more motivation. Time to sleep.

IN THE HANDS OF WISE MEN, GUITARS CRY LOUDER THAN WOMEN.

ahh, almost 4:30 in the early morningtime...i can't remember the last time i was up this late.

i tell a lie. i went to bed around this time on that second-to-last night of camp where he and i stayed up for hours talking and cuddling in armchairs. funny how you can feel close to someone like that and then

two weeks later, get a vibe that lets you know you'll never hear from him. not true, my optimistic voice says. not true. he told you to phone him. right. textbook scorpio. not a fan of making the effort to be social.

whatever. this week the building across the street burnt down. i woke up at 5 am to the sound of fire...followed by the sounds of screaming...and then the sounds of sirens...the entire neighbourhood smells like burnt building, and with good reason, but, yikes.

i bought a guitar today. no, i don't know how to play it, and being right handed, i instinctively want to play the thing southpaw-style. (blasted ambidextrosness)

i also recieved an email today from my former boss, a man old enough to be my father, who'd totally fallen for me at camp...camp does that to people...two girls, neither of us particularly hideous..one girl starts sleeping with one guy, other five guys fall in love with the other girl. the other girl falls for one guy...life's just one big porn flick, really.

gotten much fatter these past few weeks. maybe it's the lack of exercise, maybe it's the obscene amounts of fried food. i really don't know. started babysitting a little girl. two. adorable. takes all my energy. i miss the buses. i miss my friends. i miss knowing who my friends are. i miss being a teenager. i'm sick of playing grownup.

This is how I feel,.

I wish I could say this to you, but I can not speak out loud, not the way you can, I get confused with words, in my mind, saying one thing before another, while thinking of the third, I don't know how to express myself fluidly, and what I say comes out as gibberish or as stupid at best.

This is how I feel,.

But I can't even write it down in a language that you would understand, since I can not project myself properly in your letters and thoughts, it is hard enough for me to project my thoughts at all, let alone in written form.. by hands, my muscles, too blunt and awkward to write this by hand... too slow.. much too slow... thoughts run quickly through my mind, and if they are not recorded instantly they are confused with others, other concepts, other threads.

This is how I feel,.

With you I am who you think, who you expect, not who I want to be, I've known you forever, well all the ever that counts, its not a mater of length but of position, the time within the time, the time that has shaped and formed us to this day. After the time that has built who we are.

I know you don't understand,.

What this means, what I am saying, or what I am not. People who know me now, the finished product, or at least the current version, or latest.. or the one I was a while ago, they respect me, they look at me in a way that you do not, In a way that your eyes reflect only when I am stating cold facts I happen to know or skills I am known to be adept in... never in opinions.. never in thought.

This is how *I* feel,.

Others look up to Me.. well... as equals, not from below, not from above,. the way you do. the way you all do. I see admiration in them when I express my feelings and concepts my life and my soul. I feel you would laugh when I do the same with you... you keep me around, I do not know why.. like some tool or pet... to be used or enjoyed.. not to be understood,.. for there is nothing to understand, or you think you already do.

This is how I feel...

I wish you would read this, but that would not help.. it would never be natural, and even if it was it would accomplish nothing, you are the same, the same as you think I am... I am wrong for thinking I am right,., but you will read this and only see what you have always saw. A child, a misfit, a trouble maker.

I wish things were different, I wish they were the same now.. but the background should be based where it is with me for others... I like myself more when with them, I almost hate myself with you.

Is this all in my head?

Am I seeing you in a different light than I see others, than myself... how will I know? I will never know... you will always read me in a certain way, and nothing I say will ever change you.

"We are not ourselves, but who others perceive us to be"

This is how I feel.....

I am alone

Shit, Fuck, Damn
One of my fillings is loose.

Sunday afternoon. Randy is Comp USA picking up a hub, some CAT 5 and a network card, so we can get the house network up and going. I should be able to start hosting with a gig of space online in a matter of days. (I'm being optimistic)
The trip home was uneventful, it was refreshing to drive Lilith again for a few hours, she needed it. Start my new job tomorrow at 10 am. Spent a while today scraping stickers off my car, in a vain attempt to make her look a little more respectable. Long Island cops suck, this place is like living in a police state (oh wait..I am) Other than that, no life shattering relevations to share.

My muse has returned. Such a momentous day.

When poetry entered the absinthe den
Cat-like, crackling
Peeking at the wrinkled corners of
Blue-within-blue eyes
I was there to greet her
One glass to see the world as it is
Another as it should be
The third transforms
Parts awaken, long dormant
Cocoons show signs of flaking
Layers peel away
Leaving only raw flesh
Pain in joy reborn.

What a weekend, especially last night. Wow oh wow. So this is what it's like to deal in love type things as "an adult."

It has been way too long. I think I'm finally returning to human being status. My brain has tricked me before, but I think if I get more opportunities to exchange love and the sort of intense energy I had the chance to experience last night in the arms of someone very very special, I may actually be out of the woods with this depression nonsense.

Is the world ready for my love? Is this individual ready for what my love is? I'm not talking about a certain sort of relationship or what have you. I'm talking about love itself, without reservations, and most importantly without attachments. I am so ready to go with the flow on this one. This one is a rather delicate situation. I held back when the magic occurred last night, because a certain male was peeking his head in from time to time saying weird things like, "Can you entertain me?" and things like that. Some people need clue charity, I swear. Care to donate?

Anyhow, by holding back I don't mean physically, although that was there, I mean emotionally. I know said special being thinks it was already intense, it was, but I know I have much much more. Man oh man, now I know what it's like to be propelled into another dimension. People who are only very lust oriented are really really missing out, folks, IMNSHO.

I start my job tomorrow, yes I got hired at that dream job. There are a lot of sticky things with getting full employee status, but it is already better than I could have imagined, so hey no worries :). Next weekend I leave for a two week vacation with my family. I know I'll have fun, but I keep getting this weird fear that I'll die in a plane crash, because my life right now is so good it almost seems not right. Thank you universe, thank you Baltimore, and thank you beautiful one.

I was 23 years yesterday, today I am 24. One year closer to death. My major experiences during the age of 23:

• Lived in close to 5 different apartments in the same city.
• Participated in a major protest
• Partly failed several mid-scale projects, all for the Free Enterprise.
• Disbanded most, if not all, major personal goals.

I have realized that I do not take aging very well. My birthday usually trigger days of existensialist panic. This makes by my birthday celebrations less than optimal as parties.

About one year ago I suspected that my life might be going into a downward spiral. Although I can't see how I saw that coming then, I can now confirm that it did. An Annus Horribilis indeed.

Now suspect that all will be going upwards rather quickly. Old personal goals are getting back into focus, and new, exiting ones are emerging. Priority one on the schedule now is to pick up on my main goal from last year:

• Eat herring and bread every day.

On the beginning of that day, at 2AM, we were in a disco. It was the day after graduation, we had been drinking the day before till 4 AM, and we had decided we would spend saturday evening till Sunday evening at Victor's apartment in the rich beach resort of Knokke, Belgium. It was a guys only party, the four of us, we would basically not do much more than drink and drink. When we had finished the beers after some drinking games, we went to a bar, "Le Scoop" and drank a Redbull-Vodka. We then proceeded to the disco.

After two hours of heavy shaking, and a couple of extra beers in my stomach, I had my epiphany. I knew what my problem with girls had been, and what it would always be :
I need months or years to fall in love with a girl.
This has many implications :

• I will never fall in love with a girl I meet at a party : I won't even care enough about her to be interested in seeing her back the day after.
• I can only fall in love with good friends I see on a daily basis. When I realise it, it is too late, I am fucked, no way out. One does not fall out of love with a girl after years like one does after a week. One can decide from one day to another : "In fact, that girl I met at Alfred's party sucks". You cannot make the same decision for someone you've known for years.
• When I fall in love, it better should be reciprocal : I'm not gonna "break up" anyway (see above), even when there is no relationship, so there better IS one, else I stay ALONE, this being just the only self-consistant solution, as I am monogamous.

After the disco, around 4 AM, we walked back to the apartment to grab the last beers for drinking games on the beach. On our way, we saw people rolling a joint. I asked them if we could smoke with them, but instead they gave us the joint. We went to the beach, played the drinking games to make ourselves puke, the smoked the joint and went sleeping till 11 AM. We were basically stoned for the next two days. Never accept drugs from strangers !