What a weekend - another Monday morning, happily ensconced back at my desk. tapping away at my PC. AAahhhhhh *breath out, Relax*

Friday night was spent at the local mall, buying all the bits, plaster of paris, cheese cloth bandage, rope, spray paint...

Saturday morning saw Girlfriend lying on a plastic sheet in the middle of the lounge room, in old T-Shirt, grimace on her face... Then flatmate (err.. Ex Girlfriend... it's a longer story) and I proceeded to make a body cast of her. Dunking strips of cloth into the paster, and laying it all over her front.. YEAH.. :)

Then we did Flatmate, then myself. The mission? Valkyrie breastplates for the girls, and a centurion breastplate for myself. Tres kewl. Once they dried we used the bits of rope for muscle definitions and decorations, sprayed them gold, and strapped them to ourselves - Girlfriend having made us all garments for wear underneath. My daughter we dressed as a witch, which she was happy about.

Oh ! Jorgia, my daughter, turns up Friday night and scares the bejesus out of me - She had lost a tooth from both her upper left hand side and lower left hand side, she's Gappy McGappy now. Very cute 6 year old she is. She thinks this is the funniest thing, and happily flashes her missing teeth to anyone who will stand still long enough, so the Witches costume went down a treat!

We trundled off to the Halloween party all decked out at about 8:30 that night, and had a great time. everyone was very impressed by our 'look'

Sunday - Daughter having slept in till 11am ( yeah I am a bad parent and kept her up pretty late...), so I took the same opportunity.. I had to get her to her mothers at 12, so I woke her up at 11:15, and got her showered and fed her a toasted sandwich. Chucking all her stuff into the car, we headed back to the library where her mother and I meet. Her mother was not happy. I was an hour late. APPARENTLY daylight savings time had kicked in and it was actually 1pm rather than midday.. heh heh heh kinda funny, but not really... *shrug* oh well..

Daylight saving having destroyed all my planned activities for the day, I went home and did some cleaning up of the house - we had managed to get plaster _everywhere_ - and I also did some washing, so I am all clean for a new working week.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, was my weekend. by sui, aged 29 (and a half).

They dropped Mark Waugh from the team for the first Test against England. I don't believe it.The end of an era.Later: Today Junior retired from international cricket altogether. Gasp!
Cycling home along the off-Broadway bike route, I notice out of the corner of my eye something unusual beneath the Granville Bridge offramp, on the south-east corner at the intersection of Fir and 7th. There, at the new site of the Dianne Farris Gallery, is a vertical grated air duct for the building at ground level. It is blowing air in an upward direction, which is not so terribly unusual. What is, is that a big old orangey-red leaf from some nearby autumnal oak tree has drifted over and become caught in its perpetual updraft, dekeing and twisting but always remaining a roughly-constant four or five feet up in the air, always falling... never landing.

I like to believe that until the moment it touches the ground, we will be spared the worst of winter's ravages.


A half-hour later, furiously pedalling ever-eastward, near Windsor and Kingsway I pass a rice burner with its brake lights on, playing minimalist and repetitive music audible, as its engine must be, from over a block away. Not really my cup of tea, that dance music. Making my way in the liminal transportation area known as the parking lane, I pay particular attention to lit vehicles adjacent so as to avoid pull-out collisions or - worse - getting "door"ed. But curious, no such risk here - the car is running, lights and music on, no occupants.

I am never satisfied to merely observe the world around me, but instinctively and habitually construct hypothetical scenarios leading to the atypical but mundane anomalies I witness so my experiences can be interpreted as meaningful to me. (This helps to dissuade me of the notion that everything I experience is contrived for my sole benefit.) What I reflexively arrive at here between pedal-pushes is that the vehicle's occupants, unaware as to the generally-heinous nature of the music they were slipping into its tape deck, were forced to pull over and abandon the vehicle until the tape ran out and it was once again sonically safe to approach and enter. (Damn, I'm a music snob.)


One more. It's short. Within minutes I'm at Kingsway and Victoria, waiting for the light to change so I can coast the last few blocks home and change out of these wet socks. Not everyone is so patient.

Certain hookers have been known to stop traffic, and it's understood that prostitution can be quite a dangerous profession, but in the company of their pimp they are apparently invincible. A scuzzball and a pride of loins, bearing steaming gobfuls of KFC poutine, of all things (perhaps appropriate) strut out into oncoming traffic. Brakes are slammed on, vehicles honk. Perhaps after you've looked HIV in the eye, SUVs don't faze you - what you can't see far more frightening than what you can.

I wait the 45 seconds for the light to change, and follow in my own way, rolling on back to the homestead to contemplate how long it's been since last I wrote a daylog.

in our last episode... | p_i-logs | and then, all of a sudden...

Today, according to my homenode, is my E2 Anniversary. And though I had been lurking as guest user prior to that, and hadn't posted my first few writeups until well after that, I find it cause to celebrate. I've been using computers for a long time now. I'm young, but it's been an integral part of my life since I was five-or-six and had a Commodore 64. I can still remember the first time I had logged on to a BBS down in Southern California, a strong desire in me knew that electronic communication, even at the age of nine, was a means by which I could live and communicate.

I'd never been very popular in elementary school. Somehow, being an identical twin, skinny as a skeleton, heavily into video games and computers, etc. didn't win me any compatriots. It did award me with punches and bruises, curses, and I remember specifically when a boy named Gavin spit disgusting hunks of cake donuts in my face. This is the base reality from which we must escape.

It was odd to be as young as I was and taking part in the BBS community. My brother and I not only logged on to San Diego boards of all kinds, but we ran a series of WWIV. Telegard, Renegade, and Wildcat! BBSs with such names as: The Marvel Action Universe (phone number 725-HERO), The Forest Moon of Endor, IBC Comedy Network, you know--absurd things that twelve year olds think of when given the chance. It was quite liberating to belong to an online community at that time, taking a place in this invisible conversation, perhaps the only conversation we had access to.

When the internet came, a lot of this went away. I remember when I stopped going to the RPG game nights, when I sold my Magic: the Gathering cards for coffee, and music. When the real schism of self-awareness turned itself on, blinding me, making me the most self-aware but self-clueless person I can imagine. When the personality traits formed itsimultaneously made me more social in the physical sphere, and less-so in the electronic.

As girlfriends came and went, and Oingo Boingo obsessions grew and coalesced, and even they went on their Farewell tour, the internet was still there. I'd been using Linux on and off since I was in middle school, knew Rob Malda's page because of his nifty graphics for the Enlightenment window manager. And then one day, lo and behold, slashdot was born. I never was one to post comments there, but it was interesting to read them and see how this thankless community developed. (I still don't understand how so many people bitch and bitch on slashdot, when it's a free service and they have no say about anything)-- but this, again, is the magic of an online community. It was not one I wanted to belong to, though. I saw Everything1 start. I thought it looked nice, but who wants to read a bunch of very short, uninformative, usually careless nodes about nothing?

I finish high school. I have an inkling of what I want to do with my life, and it includes writing, maybe teaching in my future somewhere, god damn, somebody needs to come at these vultures and shake a stick, occaisonally harpooning the motherfuckers--what else is the cycle of life all about, anyway?

Thank you everything2 for helping me to find a community that I feel in some way I belong to. Despite that my place here may sometimes seem obscure (or not! who's to say?) I feel that with every small thing that I add, it is something unique and fulfills a space, whether it be about a particular album, books I've read, small things I've written. The times that I have gotten to get feedback has been wonderful.

I'd like to acknowledge a few people, who've made this year on e2 possible for me, and that includes: dannye who awarded me my first editor cool, qousqous who integrated me into the Portland environment, ideath for reminding me through our stuttered meetings "what a real human" lives like, JohnnyGoodyear and iceowl for giving me someone to talk to "on the level," and every single person who writes the stuff that makes me go "wow!" almost every single day of my life.

I'm here to stay, for better or worse, and I'm glad to be here.


the future! dissolving, fuzzy, but to reach in, one arm in the past, one scratching at the door of the future? who knows what's next?

But to truly understand the impact of Nirvana, you must listen to their music...

....by purchasing their new greatest hits album, I gather

Somewhere, Kurt laughs.

The "revolution" that nirvana was staging, if there ever was one, had a target. It was represented on the cover to Nevermind. A baby swimming after a dollar on a hook. The message is so blatantly obvious and so oft-repeated that to utter it again would seem trite.

The band managed to dethrone the king of pop with a song that truly was "Dangerous". -Said with a straight face.

"To my understanding, the band was the first one to make Rock music a viable commodity". Dave Grohl, smirking. Demonstrating an ability to laugh at irony .

We've been taught since childhood to think in terms of zeitgeists and decades- Patrick S. Farley.

I am
1 1 0 0 0
today.

A man stopped me on the street today
and asked me for some change.
He smelled of piss.
I gave him nought.

My neighbour's brother went to the theatre the other day.
He didn't come back yet.
Probably lead poisoning.

Life's a piece of shit.
And yet I am happy today.

Hi daylog.

My uncle, who was arrested 2 years ago, for flopping it out in front of a policewoman (his penis) is finally allowed to leave the state. After being held in custody, then dragged through a 2 year court case, all because of a policewoman's crazy hatred for someone that was at the time, clinically insane. I mean, fair enough, someone points their wang at you, you get pissed off, but this woman abused her power hugely, and because of this one thing, his spirit is totally broken, and his life is all but ruined, with the police doorknocking every house in the suburb asking is they had seen the crazy stalker and if he had affronted them with his wang.

But he's coming to stay with us, as the woman couldn't drag the case on any further.

Thanks Australian justice, you really work.

Welcome to the work week - population: you.

Sometimes I think it is all about me. Everybody in the world is just a product of my imagination. And that thrills me to no end. I am the center of the universe, and all my troubles are my own creation.

Yesterday, I wandered out of the apartment, intent on one thing: getting a hair cut. No. 2 on the sides and fingerlength on top. Sunday bus service sucks, so i take the heel-toe express down the street. Happen to see the bus coming so I take it to the mall. So much for the exercise.

Long story short, I find myself at the Barbershop. I wait my turn and realise that I am in a business that modifies human bodies for money. I have these strange ideas every once in a while. Things we take for normal really aren't once you think about them.

The little Vietnamese lady that cuts my hair is cheery as you can get on a rainy day. The weather outside is in conflict, sun blazing away and drizzle making rainbows. The hairdresser next to the Vietnamese lady complains about the time change (Fall-back). This doesn't sit well with her. She tells me that people shouldn't worry about these silly things. I am a captive audience. When she arrived from Vietnam, she had $100 american dollars in her pocket, and she sent $95 home for her family. She knew a little English and that was it. And now she cuts hair, has kids in University and is married. If she listened to her family in Vietnam, she would not be anywhere. They were all worried and complained about her leaving, she said. She told me worrying is silly, and as I sat there with her hand in my hair, struggling to reach with her little arms, I agreed. She then told me that you have to take life as it comes. Her husband was freaked out about the Y2K bug. She laughed at him and told him that he was not the only one the bug would get, and people would help. She smiled and beamed, and cut hair like an expert.

When she was done, I paid up and gave her a stupidly excessive tip, just because she made me smile. She winked at me and said "See. Life take care of people who live it, not people who fear it."

I walked home in the drizzling rain, smiling and feeling the cold drops on my newly bared head.

"Time is the great equalizer."

Habakkuk:The weirdest thing is that none of us has really changed.
Former Classmate:In spite of ourselves.
"Charles!"

So started my twentieth high school reunion. I wrote about my feelings leading up to it here, so that what follows may make a little bit more sense if you read it first. We'll wait...

My wife and I went to a little get-together at the homecoming game on Friday night. I had worked myself into a bit of a froth about the whole affair, so despite a gentle misting rain, we arrived at the game about half-time. Our reunion had a tent set up to one side with drinks and such, so we meandered that direction.

I was greeted by one of my old class members, a bubbly socialite named Libby Ann (Yes, I know, but it is the Deep South and we often have dual names, so get over it). A big hug and a smile along with her saying "Charles!".

Now, you would think that this would be considered a positive way to begin the weekend. People are happy to see me, excited by my presence. They have hungered for my company and think well of me. There are only two problems with that assumption:

  • First, Libby Ann and I were never really close and the excitement seems a little put on (not that I didn't appreciate the effort).
  • Second, my name is Russell.
The rest of the evening was uneventful. I saw a number of folks that I hadn't seen in two decades. They were chatty with the usual questions: where do you live, what do you do, do you have any kids, etc. There were people that I hardly remembered and folks that I did remember that were about the same. After about forty-five minutes, we retired for the evening.

The next evening, my wife and I went across town to a gated community where we were gathering at the clubhouse for our reunion proper. That evening I realized how little most people change. We gathered in the same groups we had in high school, catching up on old times. The food was good and the wine flowed freely, but we did find that we were feeling our age: the music was too loud and the lights too low.

I was heartened to find out that the folks who we believed would do well in life and were the best of the best had done pretty well. Unfortunately, two of our superlatives did not fare as well:

  • One was the guy who we had voted best looking. Twenty years had changed the boy a great deal. He had gained fifty pounds, had no hair to speak of, and had been working in a paper mill for close to twenty years.
  • The other was the guy who had been voted most witty. He seemed to have gotten to the point where like so many people who are often praised, he had begun to believe his own press. He seemed to be his own best audience with the rest of us left to do the best we could with what he left us with. He was in charge of entertainment, but to be honest that would have been a very kind interpretation of what we were provided that evening. (My wife got major brownie points by looking at me and saying "They didn't vote you most witty and gave it to this guy." God, I love her.)
Over all, I have to say that my reunion ended up alright. I think that I laid to rest a number of old ghosts this last weekend, ones that have been riding my shoulder for too many years.
Date: Sun, 27 Oct 2002 22:32:22 -0800
From: conform
To: Rob
Cc: Cyan, Dave
Subject: moving on up, woah-oh

Hey kids,

This is my notice on my room: I'll be out by the end of November. I'm heading to Portland, I think. It's nothing personal, I've had a fine time here, but my ongoing lack of employment and the lack of any discernable weather and my inability to get out of the house more than once a week suggest to me that it's time for a change... The move will be a somewhat gradual thing, I think, over the next month. I'll try to have it reasonably presentable in the next week or two.

Cheers...

conform

I had to take some time to myself. It seems my wife and I are going to have a baby. I am happy for this. But we also adopted a sixteen year-old girl a few weeks ago. I am confused about this. She is my wife's cousin, and was adopted by my wife's aunt at age two. Fourteen years later this woman abandons her, domesticly and emotionally.

She, the cousin, has ADHD(Attention Defecit Hyperactivity Disorder) and some anger problems. She can be moody and very defiant. But she is good at heart and wants to please to extents that no child should have to. It just took me back when the whole situation was put before me. Being a parent, I will love my children no matter what or who they turn out to be. To adopt, though, to me took a special kind of love that should be stronger than any. To see that love fail is saddening.

I hope I never fail my children like that.

All the talk lately of Walter Mondale being appointed the replacement candidate for late Minnesota Senator Paul Wellstone reminds me of the last time Mondale served in an elected capacity -- namely as Vice President under Jimmy Carter.

Well, to be more precise, it reminds me of when Carter and Mondale lost their re-election bid to Ronald Reagan and George Bush I. I was six years old and sitting in the back seat of my parents’ car at a gas station. My mom had the radio on and was explaining to me that Ronald Reagan was our new President while my dad was pumping gas. Even at a young age, I still had the good sense to be afraid of Ronald Reagan.

I became immediately terrified that Ronald Reagan -- who didn’t seem at all as friendly and nice as Jimmy Carter, the only President I’d ever been aware of -- would hate the Star Wars movies and make them illegal.

My mom tried to assure me that American Presidents don’t outlaw movie franchises, but I was still skeptical. Of course, Ronald Reagan would later appropriate the term “Star Wars” (no doubt because of the movie series’ popularity) for his proposed Strategic Missile Defense system.

It’s funny that seeing Walter Mondale on television again after so many years would make me think of this. The only memory I have of him from childhood is as a stern-faced foil to Jimmy Carter’s huge grin. The eighties really have come back.

Okay, the obligatory family medical update...

Mom is home with one monster black-purple bruise on her L upper thigh and hip, and she's quite sore, but otherwise she's doing quite well. Uncle John is in the stepdown-ICU at Riverside Methodist Hospital, with no IVs, and he's apparently giving the nurses a hell of a time. *grins* Sounds like my uncle. Anyhow - they found out what was causing the whole thing within an hour of his getting to Riverside. His doctor had somehow managed to prescribe a medication that it was known he was severly allergic to - yup, the renal failure, liver disfunction, blood poisoning, etc. was all caused by medication allergy. Please people - make sure you know the generic and brand names of all meds you allergic to, in case one person uses one brand name and doesn't catch it if you use a different one. Medication allergies can be very, very serious - sometimes fatal. *climbs off soapbox*

I figured out what my schedule will be next quarter, and all I have to say is blehhhhhhhhhhh........

Monday:
8:30am - 10:20am or 11:20am (depends on whether I am put in Nursing Fundamentals II or in Maternal-Child Health)

Tuesday:
8:30am - 11:20am
12:40pm - 3:30pm

Wednesday:
8:30am - 10:20am
12:40pm - 1:30pm
1:40pm - 3:30pm

Thursday:
6:45am - 2:45pm *dies*

Friday:
6:45am - 2:45pm *dies again*

Now don't Thursday and Friday just suck? Oh well - I'll live. And I'm off to have dinner now. Linda came over to cook tonight, and it smells really good.

Today was the day for me. I have been out of college for awhile now with my teaching license needing a job. Substitute teaching just does not pay the bills. After numerous interviews and the "you were our second choice" pats on the backs, I finally was offered a temp position teaching 3rd grade. I know for many that seems so small a deal but in the scheme of my life this is a huge step. Teaching is my passion, well that and roller coasters for those that read my nodes ;) After jumping through all of the hoops this state likes to put out for teachers, besides poor pay, I still am without a full time position... yet. The gears of The State are weak. It takes 12-16 weeks to get a teaching license processed. What is up there? That feels so wrong. You graduate after all of that work and still are put in a holding pattern. At any rate: This day will sit in my personal history as significant as a major progress in my career which means so much to me.

Starting up AIKIDO studies again in Fairfield Aikido Dojo in Stamford, Connecticut. It's been a while since I've been there, kinda dropped out because of contracting Mono and then getting a boyfriend, but such is life. Now that I'm working Freelance for Elizabeth Arden in Stamford, I'm close enough, and Storm works nights again, so... back I go.

Inertia is weighing in heavily in my mind, though. I'm overweight, back where I was before I lost the weight from Mono, and it's been over a year since I studied. I didn't even make it to my first Kyu test. It was getting closer, though. I'll have to see about making this a regular occurrence for myself.

So, 7pm, time to head off to Aikido-land and hope I get over my shyness quickly. I know I will -- the class is structured well and it forces participation. Soon enough it's just hard enough to figure out the moves.

At least since studying Japanese on my own I can count to 10 now in Japanese and I know what Onegaishimasu really means. :-)

Off to dojo. Why? Because Aikido is cool. Just starting over again is hard.

I had another journal prompt in IB English 4 today. The prompt was "How do you characterize your attitude(s) regarding learning and school? Be honest. How would you like to change them and how could you do so?"


Learning is, to me, the epitome
of a life in which there is none,
only one objective:
the aquisition of knowledge.

In through the eyes, streaming
from the streamlined minds of
thousands in this hive of humans.

One collective heartbeat, laughing
at those who march to the beat
of a different drum

We're all in a tub
of margarine--
marginalized, homogenized, collectivized.

School is the tool that they use
to control our minds; my mind.

Education's reciprocated by those who
realize they've made it...
holding down jobs in business and politics
given to hysterical fits of abuse of power
bogged down in semantics
wasting our lives hour by hour

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