May 6, 2000 | May 7, 2000 | May 8, 2000

Everything Statistics

           Statistics on day       -1     cur  l-ca  c-ca increase 
Total Number of Nodes:  498299  496809    1490  1261  1378
Total Number of Users:   14189   14168      21    45    33
Total Number of Links: 1320848 1305199   15649 15396 15523
Current node_id:        533615  532061    1554  1374  1464

Everything's Best Users

User         XP on day    -1  cur l-ca c-ca increase
Pseudo_Intellectual 9577 9510   67  93  80
dem bones           9395 9371   24 181 103
jessicapierce       9384 9191  193 129 161
pukesick            6572 6431  141 172 157
Saige               5984 5942   42 155  99

Server time: 01:35 Sun May 7 2000 
Your fellow noders (27)

cur = current, l-ca = last cumulative average, c-ca = current cumulative average

Still Waiting for Everything Snapshot.

I've been rattling around this shit hole all day. The compost needs to be taken out. It's overrun with fruit flies. Someone told me the that they lay their eggs in the faucets i.e. my drinking water. Well, I suppose a little protien never hurt anyone. The floor is horrid and I just dropped one of my roomate's bowls on the linoleum and it broke. Three of four of my roomates left for the weekend. So did two of my closest friends. I've been wondering as this first year of my college experience comes to a close if I've managed to make any true friends, the one's that really care about one and just as importantly one's one really cares about. There seem to a few of the former and a few of the latter but not too many that coincide. I'm not coming back next year. I will participate in a study abroad. My third year I will be back on campus. This campus has a very high turn-over rate so I think that I will forever (or at least forever if one was a mouse-they have short life spans) be re-establishing myself. It's exciting and disconncerting and right now, depressing and a freaking fruit fly just buzzed past my face.

Sometimes this load of work I'm procrastinating, trying to live up to the person I know I should be, being social, unintimidated, gutsy, impulsive, it's just a weight and sometimes it's not who I am. I'm indecisive, sad, and alternately manically happy. I am see-through but sometimes I reflect the light. This is more out of stubborness of some's gaze not a real hardness to read. Ah well got to keep some secrets, be a little mysterious...

My father called me. He said that he was trying to cheer me up but now all I want to do is cry. I wish I could have made him happier, I feel like I failed. I don't know why I'm like this. He told me a story about our next door neighbors. The alcholic ones. It's a domestic abuse case that will never happen. Last night she took all of his sleeping pills, perkaset, I think. He didn't notice till he tried to wake her up for lunch. He asked my dad if he could use the phone because neither of them can hold down a job long enough to pay the phone bill. She went to the hopital in a coma to get her stomache pumped. That's not all my dad said, most of it was much happier, daily life stuff on a ranch. Feeding the cattle and such. I never get homesick but lately I have been and lately I've been falling into this hole of depression. I can watch it happen like I'm outside myself. I know what I should be doing to turn it around, but I can't seem to make myself. Ah well so it goes...
Spendt the weekend over at friends house. We playedTotal Annihilation and Quake 3. It wasn't the most creative time I've ever spendt, but it was entertaining.

Anyway, it only have five more days until the final exams and then I am done. It feels surreal. Afterwards I will sleep all day and party all night. Imagine, it's been three years. Three years and now it's finally over. It's an incredible feeling, I can't explain it so I won't even try.

Have a nice day.

I woke up at 5:30 am today of my own accord. I still maintain that I am less likely to do this than I am to move to Texas tomorrow, buy a gun, take a vow of chastity, and join a right-wing Christian cult.

It must have been last night that did it.

I had a delayed psychotic reaction to leaving Montreal for my parents' house in Washington, D.C.. I started crying, and then I realized that I was being absurd, so I started laughing; but I couldn't stop either one.

I could have used a cigarette.

Do you remember what it's like to envy slim brown high school girls? To mumble over dinner? To glare at everyone, especially mothers and children? To break your own heart? To hold private sing-alongs with Johnny Rotten that the whole neighborhood could hear? To hate and hate and hate until your insides felt like wet crumpled tissue paper?

I was 14 again for approximately 15 minutes.

Curiously, a part of me watched calmly from the background, sitting Indian fashion and rubbing her velvet head. She said,

"Whoa there chief, no wonder they've diagnosed you with all these disorders. Come on over here; we need to hang out for a while just you and me. We can sit and watch the stars."

So I went with her and she gave me a beer. We didn't talk or anything, but eventually I passed out in her arms.

Ears are still ringing and a fever. I'm in the middle of an HMO war between my doctor and insurance company, so I had to cancel Monday's appointment.

Didn't get to teach Sunday School this morning. I'm sorry I missed it...not much longer and this Sunday School session will be over. I'll especially miss JP. The first time he came to our class, he discovered he was in the three and four year old and promptly promoted himself to the Kindergarten class next door. We were all unaware of this self-promotion until the Kindergarten teacher showed up with him in tow. He comes in every Sunday with a hug and new song for me. Two weeks ago it was Jesus Loves Me and last week it was Do You Know the Muffin Man?, so now I have a spot in my weekly lesson plan including JP's song of the week.

Found a comment regarding my concerns about the How to slash your wrists node and responded.

Trip to the grocery store yielded $70 worth of groceries (about 5 bags) and an head throbbing, heart pounding fever because of the heat outside.

I'm happy though I managed to get my regular walk in and I plan on attending the Taizé this evening.

It is not the will of your Father which is in heaven, that one of these little ones should perish.
- Matthew 18:14 (KJV)

Regrettably, more times than once the cares of the world have caused me to wonder how I could have strayed so far from Christ. Every time I have wandered away, the Good Shepherd, has come after me and carried me back.


OK , so am I going to England for a month in 6 days. I am going to be studying theatre in London and such. I went out today to make some business cards from a machine at the mall to properly introduce myself to others, however the machine was broken. That's cool cause I already a couple different cards already made. Would you like to hear about them? I thought so: (these look alot cooler in reality...)

National Technopublicrats
Vice-President of the National Defense of Coal

The Kingdom of Last
By no means, is this the last kingdom, only the kingdom of Last.

onanistico stein
rebel fascist for the Franco-American Alliance
"Drag that dog.....Across the Floor"

Me and Sandi went to the park and did our mile walk. We've both started walking after work, but usually we do it in different parks. It was still light when we started out, and it didn't take long until we were scoping every boy on the course. It was one of two things we do together: ogle boys or cut people up based on how they dress. It's the way we vent; our individual sarcasm is heightened when we get around each other in the off hours, and boy, is it fun!

We then went to Juan's Flying Burrito and ogled some more. It's one of those local Bohemian places where the college kids go to be cool. The boys behind the counter are always lusciously scruffy and the food is always cooked to order. The Abita was a little warm and the restaurant was a little warmer, but we were happy to just be out.

Sandi called her husband on her cell phone to let him know where we were going next, just out for a few beers. Her husband is insanely jealous of my friendship with her, which is a new thing to me, so it's always teetering on a fight when I'm involved. We left for Molly's anyway.

All the Jazz Fest cretins were out in full regalia in front of Jimmy Buffet's Margaritaville, whose name alone makes me retch. Balloon hats, blinking pins, Mardis Gras beads and girls on boys' shoulders, standing in line to drink.

We ended up at the Hideou, a shady bar as far down Decatur Street as you can go without being in a bar with a stripper's pole coming from its center. Here, we contemplated our sex and drug riddled past, looking around to see that the people there were still in the midst of it, still riding out the crave wave we had long let crash on the rocks. We gestured to the beautiful bartender, a leggy blonde from some other country who had rotated her employment to cover most of the bars on this block. What did she spend her money on? we asked ourselves. Will she ever escape this life? Is she a junkie too?

Walking home, we realized something. We had, FTMP, normal lives: bills, pets, SO's, utilities. If we ever wanted to go back to the lives of chaos we thought we so liberating, all we have to do is bar hop down Decatur to realize that that door is no longer open to us, and that suits us just fine.

I did it!

Today I am a certified Wilderness First Responder. This puts me a scant 80 hours of classes, plus labs and observation, away from my WEMT.

I am psyched.

The exam, incidentally, was a fucking joke. ooh, what do you do if someone's not breathing? Clear the airway or stabilize the C-spine? tough one.

Unfortunately, I'm basically no longer allowed to fuck anything up. I now have a pretty damn high standard of care to meet. Not that I fucked things up before, mind you. But when you get something like WFR or WEMT, your protection from lawsuits in the event of a big fuckup goes way down.

I love trauma!

I can set a broken femur and put it in a traction splint in under 15 minutes, assuming I have a cooperative patient and there's a readily available big stick. If all else fails, I can use one of my trekking poles.

Yes, I am bragging. Fuck you, I'm proud of me.

Sunday. Soup and pie. I open my front door to find a gift - a postcard from icicle. The first line is about leaving flowers on people's doorsteps. Any day that starts off with magic like this, can't turn out too bad.

Icicle's message undoes the damage that might have been done by being honked at three times, whistled at once, and asked to fuck, by, say it with me, a truck full of Mexicans. I shouldn't jump to conclusions - the only word I caught clearly was "fuck," so he might have been asking "where's the fucking Kroger," but I doubt it.

Why does this keep happening? Just once I'd like a Korean guy to ask if he could ream me ragged. Once upon a time, one Mexican got his cock sucked by a stranger, and a legend was born.

I want to scream at this moron not for being rude but for being a cliche. They stop the truck - to appreciate me fully, I guess. I step forward, smiling sweetly, announce "No fucking for you!" and give him my middle finger with a hard fast jab. I don't flip people off; it's dumb. This was a special occasion.

Anyway icicle and the polite woman who pulled over to ask for directions undo the Mexicans, and the honeysuckle undoes the block of heavy pesticide-smell, and the very alive bunny undoes the very dead sparrow and much deader possum.

Back in front of my apartment I cross paths with the maintenance guy who is not a rapist. He smiles at my pace and says, "Ooh, girl, you just jammin!" We chat; it's nice to talk about the weather sometimes. I try to figure out what evil he's undoing for me, but he's a bonus.

At home I lie down on the floor in front of a fast fan and discover I have massive sweatstains under my arms, yay! Wanting to know what's in my cup, Jamcracker dunks his whole head in my water and comes up pissed and sneezing. I watch What About Bob because I'm a sucker for Bill Murray when he tries not to smile.

A little pot sends me spiraling and it's not like ever before, high or sober. Suddenly everything is fear. This isn't high-paranoia, it's a gripping, total fear of everything that has ever worried me, all at once. Pete comes over. I let him in and ask him to leave. He does and immediately calls me. (how did he know it wouldn't trouble me to be on the phone? it doesn't.) Listen to those breathing discs, he says. It sounds like a distraction which is all I am seeking so I agree.

Dr. Andrew Weil looks like a hippie and sounds like he is trying to sell me a flowbie but when I let my mind shut up and my lungs do their work, something expands and flattens out in my mind. It isn't until the next day that I will realize the little, impossible truth that I am never required to worry about more than the moment I am in. That is what I am learning to do now. Nothing more complicated. The universe is breathing into me and I might be a starfish but I know that's the last of the pot talking but still, I might be a starfish, I think that's important.

This experience is a gift. All pleasure is relief. Relief, relief. I always think I'm the only one feeling awful things, feeling all crunched up, and I'm not, so clearly I am not. It's reassuring; I feel something familial, I have learned a little about how to uncrunch, and I know that it will be a pleasure to slip into sleep.

I Made some serious cash today, but I ache inside when his sensitive little soul hurts.
PresRels are my friends. I cuddled my son while I worked all morning long. My laptop perched on the coffee table, I leaned over and tip-tap-typed away while the tadpole wandered around, passing between me and the coffee table with his Hot Wheels. Every so often, he would ask, "Press button, dad?" I told him not to press the F9 key (the one he wanted to press), because I didn't know what it did in MS Word, and he did anyway. I spoke sternly to him, and he ran back to his mom. He looked at me and his eyes began to shine, and then he burst into tears. I picked him up and held him tight, and he sobbed.

Feeling like the world's biggest asshole, I let him press the button again a few times, since it didn't do anything anyway.

Log in or registerto write something here or to contact authors.