I think thisis the best place to thank all the editors, whoever they are, who tell me why they nuke my nodes through the voice of Klaproth.
The rant in my home node finally seems to pay off.

Now i got a even better chance to earn my bullshit as i know what i'm doing wrong...

Ok, Ater he just despaired, I mean for me he did, since I wasn’t here back then.

At least Pinchemadre has an explanation node…. But Ater he just ‘poof’... vanished.

But I am sure they are both alive and well….

See achan well, achan he wrote something which got me thinking, and reading. And somewhere there was this softlink “psychological damage, getting fired, and the karma police” which is something krsi wrote…. So I decided to see what ever happened to krsi…. Not many daylogs, but the last one, written on “February 12, 2001” disturbed me, not because of what was written, we’ve all had hard times but reading someone has no food, and never hearing from them again.


break, back to life

I spent more money than I earned last month, I am insane, the new TV and the motorcycle lessons and just generally spending money. I don’t even really want that shit, I just need something to pass the time, until I get the guts and grow the balls to just get up and leave.

I am thinking of getting a Playstation… I freaking don’t need one or really want one… the Nomad stopped working and all I can think is… “That’s too bad

I’ve got a girlfriend now… I think… I’m not sure on the definitions, but anyways, she’s the first girl I’ve dated more than twice, I’d say more about her, but too many damn people know me here by this nick. And they know her as well (Not from here) we see each other a lot, we hang, skate, rent movies, she sleeps over.

but she is a great deal younger than me, and sometimes I think it ain’t right… I haven’t ever told her this, not directly.

It should NOT bother me!!

But it does…. I’ll get over it I guess… I’m too passive to do anything else about it.

I am 23, with someone, yet still alone. And this is my life

Note to self, I have edited this after the fact.

Husband is gone, she’s got two kids and overdose woes, she’s looking up while sinking. House a mess, like misplaced effort. She’s so worried, when she tells me “the universe will provide”. I agreed to move from her hundred-year old farm-house, an uncertain migration from here to Knoxville. But nothing gets done, I’m all alone in the house, she runs errands, the boxes are filled, but so is the house.
Real “community service project”, people helping people.

Classes are going well. As soon as I get my act together I’ll be doing much better, I’ve skipped a few classes, and I feel like I’m behind in mythology, but I feel like this is all details right now for some reason. There is some higher cause, bigger than grades and attendance (can’t I get tossed out of school for saying something like that?).

I just saw Dark Star Orchestra, pretty good show, considering I got in for free, instead of paying $15 or $20 and be legitimate. Pretty good show, I'd advise seeing them, in case you needed an opinion.

I’m here.

The past few days are nothing but a blur. Boredom, parties, drinking and smoking. Strangers becoming friends and friends becoming distant, home fading from memory and sleep made the last priority. Tiny roommates straining to be 5’3”, hitting my head on doorways at old houses when going into the basement. Owls hiding in corners. The explosion of poo, locked bathrooms, kicking in a brand new door and splitting the frame. Old boy on the couch, drums upstairs, Hippie Hash in the early hours of the morning. A sea of tank tops and tight pants, sororities climbing out of the shadows to work their magic on the freshmen. There’s some hoes in this house, that’s for sure.

In order to explain, I must start at the beginning…

I woke up at six in the morning on August 30, and made the 2.5 hour drive to Ann Arbor with my parents. It was boring and long, but I was excited to move into my dorm and meet my roommates. Little did I know they would be binge drinkers while managing to fit into a size zero.

The room is tiny, things are crowded, but my roommates are small and do not take up too much space. I am the largest of the three, weighing in at a whole 130 pounds and towering over their sad attempts to break the five foot barrier. I just rest my elbows comfortably on the tops of their heads and continue as if all was well. When we walk to meals together I feel like the mother shepherding two little ducklings off to find food. I am not used to being tall. I only want my tall friends back. Looking at someone’s face at eye-level has become a few and far between luxury.

We managed to carry a freezer/fridge/microwave combination up four floors with the aid of only one other person. That one other person happened to be doing most of the work. We wimped out after the first two flights of stairs. However, having appliances in the room makes for ultimate laziness.

The showers on the forth floor have been out of order, so we have been forced to travel to the next floor in order to clean ourselves. Our bathroom door is permanently locked. We have a key for it. Having to go through the trouble of finding your keys in order to enter the bathroom, after which you must open several more doors in order to make it to the actual bathroom area does not conduce healthy bladder control. Especially when you forgot your keys and have to run back to your room all the way on the other end of the hall.

All the parties are located in old town houses, with ceilings made for a shrunken generation. It’s dark, there’s alcohol, it hard to remember to duck every time you go down the stairs or through a doorway. I lost track of how many houses we’ve gone to in the past couple nights. My roommates love to party and enjoy taking me with. The first night we were here, they convinced me to drink one little bottle of Smirnoff Ice. I drank about half of it and was so dizzy I couldn’t move. Of course, I had given blood the afternoon before, but I forgot to mention that. The buzz wore off after an hour or two and I was ready to move on.

There was a bat in our dorm. Not in our room, but in our hall. Pest Control and the police were called in. The little bat was flying up and down the hall like it actually had somewhere to go. Megan (a roommate) and I grabbed two of the nearest boxes left over from unpacking and started chasing it. Between us two and a police officer, we caught it in a shoebox with much squealing (from us girls and the officer) and waving of arms. The bat was a tricky little rodent though, and managed to squeeze through a small hole in the side of the box. It was loose once again. We managed to catch it one more time, and it got out again. The poor little guy then flew straight into a dorm room and refused to come out. The pest control had arrived by then, so Megan and I headed back to our room to rest.

Aaron hooked up the Ethernet connection deal on my notebook. I have so many wires coming to and from my computer that it may as well be a desktop. Mobility is limited when there’s an Ethernet cable, power supply, security lock and a nifty miniature mouse all hooked in. I think I can manage, however. Our room is a measly 11x17 feet, so the cords are long enough to go almost everywhere within those four walls. What a comfort.

Some mutual friends were throwing a party on State street, so we went over there, picking up Nick on the way. His house is small and full of strange women, but it seems to be a friendly place. After making our way back down thirty-some stairs, we were off to the party. I remember parking myself on a couch amidst dozens of old friends, having someone pour me a glass of jungle juice from the trash can in the hall, and zoning out for a few hours. I vaguely remember hearing Nick and Chris talk about their engineering computer science stuff. Something about shell script and Perl 4 being useless. It was not worth paying closer attention to. After all, I only know html.

Last night, Aaron and I went to Jon’s house over in Ypsilanti. He was having some sort of party through by six of his roommates involving too many kegs and drugs to keep track of. I took a seat on the futon between a drunken Jon and a sober Aaron and fixed the controller for the TV. For the first time in my life, I was offered the privilege of changing channels without harassment because I was the hero of the evening. I was touched by their generosity. The music was just a tad to loud to hear anything, so we watched a silent movie while mischief brewed. I was not interested in taking part, although I did get to participate in the drum circle. I am known to have a reputation, after all. Not every girl understands the art of subdividing and time signatures.

There was a DJ in the basement spinning some random shit. I went down there to check out the setup, and nearly peed myself when I saw the gigantic stuffed owl sitting in the corner above the stairs. After I recovered from the shock, I walked the rest of the way downstairs and was stunned to see a puddle forming behind a water heater. I ran and got Jon, then he tried to run to get Greg (the resident technician of such things) but was unable to hold himself up. Greg eventually arrived nonetheless, and it was decided that the sewers had been clogged. I ran back upstairs before anything else was said.

When we all got back upstairs, we discovered that the door to Jon’s room had been locked. His keys were inside the room. Without hesitation, Jon kicked in the door. Two kicks placed just above the door knob, and the door was wide open. Sadly enough, the frame around it and the lock were mangled. This seemed hilarious at the time, so we all sat around and laughed for a while.

Upon reemerging into the emptying house, we discovered a dude passed out on the couch. He became known as Old Boy. We searched the house for a permanent marker, but there were none to be found. After being sure that he was not going to puke and had been doing no K, we left him for gone and returned downstairs to assess the damage.

I ended up getting home at about seven in the morning. I should not be awake.

Today, at last rain has come. After weeks of hot weather which caused a lot of allergic reactions, finally a lot of allergic people can once again relax and enjoy the day.

Because we had the first workday in September, kids are back on school here in Belgium, except those lucky kids in Leuven who have a fare day of for starters. Getting in Leuven by car was a nightmare and the few people that planned to move today to or out of Leuven, had to change their plans.

Well, I'm just tickled to death today, maybe I shouldn't put it that way...tickled shitless?....well, I'm a happy boy, uhhh old man...anyway, just read some delightful news...eating chocolate is healthy...or so some American researchers from the University of California, Davis, have concluded...

Chocolate with cocoa contains Flavonoids which are thought to reduce platelet aggregation, which causes blood clots...So for this chocoholic, it's wonderful news....

That and the fact that I and many of us are off today...and that I've finally found a tennis partner for some regular games...and that I'm back in school and enjoying the hell out of it..

All of this and more..make for a mighty happy Labor Day..I hope that each of you can find some joy today,,As for the losses we suffer(WonkoDSane), well, not much can be said for that, except, hopefully it was a life well lived and full of joy and hope, and surely, one lived in interesting times.....It's a turn we all take..

So, Happy Labor Day; on a day we can do no labor..and eat plenty of chocolate!!

Instead of going to the Café Edison as I planned this morning, I went to Joe Jr., a diner closer to Washington Square Park and NYU. Next door to the diner is a beggar and his dog. I walked by, and into the diner for brunch. I ordered a plate of spaghetti, and a cup of tea. I saw right across my seat a woman with a Hogs and Heifers tank top.

Once I was done with the spaghetti, I asked the woman how is it like to hang out in Hogs and Heifers. She said it was fun, and as long as I tip the bartender I'll be fine. I thanked her, and walked out to see the beggar again talking to a guy who's petting his dog.

I told the beggar that he's sitting right next to a diner... and I ought to get something for him to eat. I asked the man, "Hey, what would you go for?" He said a breakfast sandwich would be nice. I went back to the diner, and ordered a bacon and egg sandwich and a cup of coffee. I gave the guy the sandwich and the coffee, and I left.

I went off to the Sullivan Street Playhouse, by route of Washington Sq. Park. Right in front of the playhouse is a walking with crutches opening up the box office, and an old lady. The old lady asked me for cigarettes, in exchange of a small painting. I introduced myself to the lady, and I told her I don't smoke. I asked the guy in the box office when are the performance times for The Fantasticks, and he gave me a schedule. I thanked the man, and off I went.

Yay for labor day. Had a truely dull weakend, but a triumphant week.

I single handedly conquered the NJDMV paper pushing ring of terror by passing my driver's exam on the first try.

I placed an order for a new ibook, and have been patiently waiting outside in front of my mail box

Rode the NJTransit into work on a sunday to do a little bit of work. On the way there was some old guy totaly freaking out as he lay there on his side with his luggage in a three seater. It sounded like he was singing at first, however he was just randomly shouting out pieces of old school tunes. "I just called...to say...I dream of californication." As I got off of my stop I heard him scream "Punny-tang! Punny-tang! Let's spark one up and get spiritual!" Is it 4:20 at any given time of the day, or is it just me? Very entertaining none the less.

I spent the beginning of my day at Panera Bread (Formerly known as St. Louis Bread Company working with my AP US History discussion group.

For the second day in a row, because I am a coward who only gets what is safe, I ordered the italian combo. Their sandwiches have more meat than any other place i've been in my memory. That said it is not the most condusive enviornment to getting work done, despite this pirticular resturants proximity to Emory University. While the conversations amongst the 5 of us were generally productive about our topic (Was colonial American culture unique?), we did manage to get into some really weird conversations on accident, like someones Singing message machine greeting, and what the color and smell of your urine means.

But after only 3 hours, we kind of got a bunch done... kind of.

My week is really piling up. Tommorow I get to do the presentation for which we were meeting, wensday I have a job interview at Rainbow Grocery, thursday i'll be working my butt off to make up lost time in AP US History, and friday my day will be dominated by sweet, sweet sleep.

I probably wouldn't need so much damn sleep if I just quit smoking.

Today however, I must demonstrate my knowledge of expressions of linear equations on an algebra 2 worksheet, then panic at 3am over the presentation which is due tommorow, which, quite frankly, is looking to really, really suck ass.

The last twenty four hours have felt like an odd Roy Batty-esque misadventure across the upper Midwest. I stood outside the Pontiac Silverdome and felt the breeze across my face. I listened to the rantings of an elderly man at the confused looking employee of a Wendy's as he claimed to have inexact change and demanded another three cents. I ate in the nightmarishly awful Burger King in Battle Creek, Michigan, during which I was racially insulted, sat on a bench that fell directly to the floor, and heard the song Jesus to a Child by George Michael while using the disturbingly unclean men's restroom. I heard the vocal stylings of Dirty Harriet from a cassette tossed out of the window of a Trans-Am. I saw a thirty five year old Irish-Indian-American enjoy a 40 oz. bottle of Colt .45.

I slept the sleep of a nearly dead man.

Today, though, is a day that is now to be topped off with the sedateness of long readings and homework, of assignments and computer code to be written.

Today I was thinking about the past. I was thinking about how in my sophomore philosophy class in college, there was a girl who insisted on saying "Urethro" when she meant "Euthyphro" in some Plato dialogue. The teacher was the head of the department and he tried his best not to cringe every time she said it, but for some reason she could never assimilate HIS correct pronounciation of "Euthyphro" and replace her embarrassing, repeated use of "Urethro." She raised her hand a lot.

I wonder why people can't assimilate correct pronunciations when they hear them repeatedly? I have a friend who won't stop saying "Fushi Yuugi" when he means the Japanese anime series Fushigi Yuugi. Where did the last syllable of the first word go? And how come when people's names are repeatedly said in anime, people still insist on mispronouncing them? If I hear one more person refer to Sakura as "Sa-KOOR-uh" I think I'm going to snap. And I'm not even going to go into Evangelion. That said . . .

I thought more about the past. I thought about how in my diary in third grade I used to rant about petty family fights all the time. Most of my diary was covered with scrawlings of injustices put on me by my mother or my sisters' nasty antics. One would think I would read over it and think I was being an ass for obsessing over minutiae. But actually, I read it, remember the situations, and get really pissed, because I strongly remember the time my sister wouldn't stop kicking the wires on the Nintendo game and making my game mess up, and my screaming at her got me sent to my room. The Sisters had discovered that putting one's foot behind the television temporarily disabled the reception between the game and the screen, and therefore, when it happened, I was not only prevented from seeing the screen but also prevented from pausing the game. My sisters justified this behavior because I was the best at the games and they were tired of my turn taking forever. When I bitched about the injustice I got screamed at by my mother ("FOR GOD'S SAKE, it's ONLY A GAME!") and occasionally sent to my room because THEY wouldn't stop killing me. Know what? Petty, but it still pisses me off. Because I wasn't a little bitch like that. Oh well.

Labor Day sucks. I had to work, and I had to turn down a fair amount of invitations to do fun things because people all had the day off and were appalled that I did not also, and acted like it was insane that I both had to work and wasn't being paid holiday pay. Goofy. It was BUSY today. I didn't like it.

So. What did I put in my body for my annoying diet today? Let's see, here's the menu:

1 granola bar: 120 calories

1 apple: 80 calories
1 loaf of pita bread: 140 calories
1 home-baked crescent cake: 65 calories
½ cup milk: 45 calories

1½ cup salad: 15 calories
2 tablespoons lite Miracle Whip: 70 calories
1 tablespoon Heinz ketchup: 40 calories

2/3 cup corn: 80 calories
1 Morningstar Farms Chik Patty: 150 calories
¼ cup egg substitute: 30 calories
1 banana: 105 calories

That's a total of 960 calories. Which leaves 40 to play with to make 1,000 calories. Not much to pick from, but I could have some extra egg substitute with my dinner, or a couple slices of pickles. Yay. Joy. Oh, rapture.

Yesterday | Tomorrow
Everything is a Community

Today was the Monday of Labor Day. I did nothing again today. I did go to the store, for Coca-Cola and Q-tips, but that's about it.
I spent all day in #everything again, talking with the regulars... We would really like to see you there, too, so drop in anytime.


  • I am sorry to hear of WonkoDSane's loss. Please send him your condolences.
  • I am worried about (darsi). I hope she will be ok.
  • I talked to FirstGeek via messages some today. He sounds like a really cool guy, and I am glad he is a part of the collective.
  • Kit Lo made me proud to call him a friend today. I feel like such an ass knowing that I would never have done what he did. You are a good man, Kit.
I also watched a newbie, MrWedneday, get berated and tortured in the Chatterbox today. I helped. I think we all need to make sure that the newbies know one thing: They are not special. If you are new here, don't think that we are out to get you, or that we hate you, or that we try to keep away outsiders. In fact, some of our best users are newbies: I learned today that there are people here much older than I. I find this to be simply amazing. Please lay some wisdom down upons us kids.

I am drinking a lot more recently. I mean, a lot. My average last year was about two drinks a month... I am drinking more than that a day now. It isn't helping my depression at all, but no one really cares, I don't think.

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