Vacation Day 3

Well I sit here in Pawley's Island, SC dead tired and filled with a sense of déjà vu. There is comfort in what is known and expected, but as life changes with time I feel as though I am living in some kind of hallucination. It's all a replay of the past; it's as if I'm in a home movie, doomed to replay the same movements, words and gestures over and over again.

We spent Friday night in Charlotte, NC with friends. I was and continue to be struck by the newness of the city. We have stopped there year after year and there is always more construction and new roads.

I am not one to impede progress, but it's frighteningly Orwellian. It's planned community next to planned community, golf course next to golf course. Every lawn is perfect; every lawn is the same. New trees sit on all of the median islands. It's as if the whole of society has been planned and executed by some faceless corporation. Maybe I'm just too used to the northeast where things are older and different thanks to the changing winds of politics over time.

Why all of this disenchantment? Lord if I know. Maybe two counteracting forces are disjointing me; as they say, "As things change, they remain the same."

something i wrote today... i don't really know why i seized upon this whole Charles Lindbergh/transatlantic theme, it just felt right.

I buzz like a housefly, trapped in your cabin

under the shadow
of the tower,
I fell into the meal.
expensive, i know,
but it was part of the deal.

one hour, that was all,
a pittance considering
how quickly time flies.
we'd eat on this French mall,
and I'd watch your eyes.

sculpted ice bergs
and chicken,
police-line blue,
just like Lindbergh
to Paris I flew.

two tight fabric wings,
and a prayer to the Lord,
with your photo
taped to my dashboard.

above the deep blue,
the white splash.
there was no peace as i flew
and waited for a crash.

drifting across that heaven,
of empty smoked glass,
i was deafened by prop roar,
and trying desperately to pretend
the reasons i'd flown for

were the trophies,
the press,
that ample reward.
not the rough seas
of our hearts' fraying cord.

but after i landed,
after the cameras and cheer,
i felt no great pride,
my bliss stolen, branded
by this unfair divide.

and so now we're sitting here
over chicken, wine
and caviar,
everything's become clear
i'm a trifle bought at the bazaar.

one of your hats that sit
in boxes, instead of
dancing around your head.
once they don't fit,
you wish they were dead.

in New York, when i took off,
they threw their hats
into the sea.
now seasick, i cough,
and realize that that's me.

tumbling, twirling,
a blizzard of expensive caps,
ebony snowflakes about to be bathed.
and that ocean, mirror sterling,
rose up high and waved.

AAAAAAAAAGH! I'M ABOUT TO GO FUCKING NUTS!!! Somehow, some damned cricket found it's way into my home. Under normal circumstances I would not be bothered, but we're nearing the end of summer - which means chirping. And as loud as this damn thing is chirping I can't find him. Sadly, the chirp comes from somewhere dangerously near the china cabinet, which means no random smashing and pray he gets hit. If he's here in the morning he will die a terrible terrible death. Terrible.

On another note, as this was my best friends' "last day of freedom" before their school begins again, we ate at Haufbrau Steakhouse tonight. All was well - until Justin decided to play a joke on the help. The two of them split from my table such that there were three tables, one for each of us. Justin pretended to have just broken up with his girlfriend and was crying and depressed. Josh decided to hit on every, and I do mean EVERY, waitress in the joint. I simply helped Justin's story, avoided Josh, and tipped our waitress, Alithia (caucasian, 5'10, brunette, great body, gorgeous eyes), very well. I also got her number afterwards, which NORMALLY would make me happy. Sadly, we got into a conversation about drinking - which she does, ALOT. She is also a "social" druggy it seems (having done crack, ecstasy, pot, acid and a few other drugs). While I don't care if people do drugs on their own time, I can't be with someone who does in a romantic way. On a side note - Justin and I informed every waitress Josh hit on that he was gay and that this was a game he played to see how many "straight" women would go for him. They bought it. Josh hurt us upon finding out. A fun time was had by all.

Update - I have found the cricket, but cannot access him. His is indeed near the china cabinet - behind it that is. This is a BIG piece of furniture, I cannot move it - therefore I cannot kill him. Crafty little fucker...
Update #2 (well, extension of first post, not so much an update, but I digress...) - The day has become slightly better. One of my best female friends, Crystal, has just broken up with her asshole boyfriend for the second time in two weeks. She has informed me that if he comes back AGAIN, she will not have him. I am quite please, and informed her that he was nuts. Anyone who would give up someone so beautiful, talented and kind must have something wrong with him. She believes he was cheating on her. I sent him an email informing him of his hideous mistake (blind carbon coppied to crys of course). I also informed Crystal that he was nuts, and were she single... well she is, so nevermind... had she not just broken up with someone after two years of togetherness and probably in pain I'd ask her out in a second. To which she smiled (text anyway) said she appreciated that someone thought of her for once, said goodnight and logged off. Hopefully, she'll remember who thought of her later when I do ask her out.

Barnes and Noble, Love, and the difference that three months makes.

In two weeks I return to the shadowy shores of this continent, to continue my schooling at The Evergreen State College. This has been an.....eventful summer.

Item the First:
My brief resume can now include a month and a half stint as a lead bookseller at the Microsoft of book stores, Barnes and Noble. Worry not, fair noder, upon my return full time to noding, I will regale you with tales a plenty about the fun and happy time at the B&N.

Item the Second:
I once again can refer to someone as "The Girl", and be referring to someone in reference to myself. Technically speaking, we've only been dating about two and a half months, but in reality we would have been dating for about 3 years. Long Story. Get to that one later too.

Item the Third:
Umm...I don't really have anything else, other than amused exclamations about the new acoutrements on our beloved website. (Multiple cools? By cracky, I remember back in 99..)

Anywho, more talky later. My thanks to anyone who muddled through this.

i hate really long writeups

i wanna help, but we're running out of time, my mother tells me. i need a place to live. within the next two weeks i have to find a place to live. just thinking about it makes my head spin and my stomach gurgle. i visited school last week and remembered hating it. i don't want to go back this year. i can't afford not to.

the boy i liked, the boy who'd decided that i was sad and negative and blocked people out, and who'd decided to cure me of that, to make me happy and to make me let people in and tell them my secrets, who'd succeeded...and then disappeared for a month due to his own depression, which he wouldn't let me help him with, emailed me a few days back. holy shit is he incapable of the written word. i thought i was bad, but this email made no sense to me. i suppose that's what comes from dropping out of school, running away, living in foster care and on the streets, being a ritalin kid...he's brilliant in person though. makes me wonder, was emailing me a great effort? he told me he'd lost my phone number.

i know that line. i've heard it before. i've used it before. he was almost out of my head, but now he's back. the bastard.

and the 39-year-old who'd decided to fall in love with me keeps emailing me too. only his words are brilliant and beautiful and make me incredibly sad that there isn't a boy out there that would write me such things who wasn't old enough to be my father and who i could love back. this 39-year-old knows that i have no interest in him it's alright, so long as i avoid seeing him in person.

my head hurts whenever i think about the future. all i want to do is curl up into a ball. or live at home forever and go back to highschool. except i hated highschool. with a passion. more than i hated school last year. i want to go to ireland. work in a bar. except i can't. i need to stay here where my dentist is.

I'm back from my vacation in the Revenge of Nature Trail to Hell (in 3-D): A Very Appalachian E2 Gathering... OF DOOM!...

Day 1

I took the bus from good ol' New York City, and went to Washington, DC. It was smooth sailing from there with Ophie and Jeremy (what's his noder handle again? I work with real names better than handles). We went to Hermetic's place to get some drinks and whatnot. Afterwards, Hermetic, ophie, Jeremy and myself met up and had lunch in a seafood place before everybody else except ophie went forth.

I took six-odd hours to go from Washington to Sparta, North Carolina. We talked about music, Hermetic's years in the Navy studying combat medicine, and Japanese culture.

We met up with czeano and friends in the cabin after the said six hours. Panamaus (David) served ribs - Charles Vergos Rendezvous famous dry-rub pork ribs!!! They tasted great, even though I don't eat pork ribs.

Hermetic's Martini of Death is great - but my little Mr. Fusion works better with Guinness. Never had any of that excepting my bar trip from May, but what the hey.

One of the things that creeped me out was Jurph and his girlfriend. It's the same old reason I hated public displays of affection, and it reminded me of the things I wish I could do but can't for obvious circumstances.

I had a frank talk with Infinite Burn about the same-old bullshit that's holding me back from dating. I was broken down, but I can't cry. It still sucks to compare myself to Jurph and everybody else, but that's what all I can do aside from bitching in #everything about how I can't get laid and so on.

Day 2

The most important thing of the day was going to the New River ( I do have enough money for a canoe, but It's too damn expensive even for one guy (myself). Zot-fot-piq did some fishing, and caught one fish and a bug.

At night, most of everybody went out to paint the tunnel leading to the cabin like as if it was the Berlin Wall. I didn't feel left out until somebody slipped the PvP fez on my head, and I took initiative (lots of cursing towards myself and others) to climb up and paint "KIT LO EXISTS!" yeah... I do exist. It's like as if everybody has never seen me, and I have to act to be heard. And that was the forceful moment of clarity that I had to make to start wanting to live like the rest of the damn kids...

Let's just say I was loud - violently loud for one night.

Day 3

I woke up late - 0900 in Sunday. Well, kenata said I wasn't late, but I said I was late. Becca served pancakes, and they were good.

Hermetic showed The Natural History of the Chicken on tape to the noders. It's a weird-ass piece of work.

Eat Poop You Cat was a great game to play -- and I had a kick-ass time out it. I'm usually a "information-faithful" kind of guy, but I love to add "noise" that makes EPYC work - be it intentionally or by interpretation.

I took a few pictures, made plans to talk to Kenata in the future, and went off to Washington, DC.

Hermetic drove me to Washington, but was caught for reckless driving along the way. I don't know if I should feel guilty for somehow leading him to drive like this, but he loves to work his car up like this... With or without any passengers, I guess he indulges in hearing the sound of his VW Jetta tearing ass in the highway all the time.

Come to think of it, Hermetic makes me think of a cross between The Great Gatsby's Nick Carraway and Keanu Reeves.

Afterwards, Hermetic dropped me off at the Greyhound station and that is that.

Attention Atlanta Noders: I shall be in your fair city August 26th through September 1st. I will be attending some training during the day, but my evenings are free. I would be happy to meet any and all of you at a neutral location.

My only requirements are that the meeting places are within walking distance of the subway. I won't have a car, so I'm at the mercy of Marta. It's Smarta!

/Msg me if interested.

what i did (or didn't do) on August 14, 2001
  • Go to the climbing wall(yes)
  • Buy some hiking trousers.(yes)
  • meet catherine for lunch(yes)

Things to do today

  • am expiereincing a fit of minor depression and can't make any plans for the day. Perhaps I should work on getting past my malaise.

13:41 Well I have not daylogged for about a week. The working week last week was very boring and dissastisfactory. I have not heard from Edinburgh in respect to a job that I aplpied for. I know the interviews are on Wednesday and so must conclude that I ahve not been chosen for a first round interview. This has placed a dampener on my mood for the past week.

I really need to work on getting a job and mus sit down and formulate a plan to achieve this, I cannot face doing this today, for the moment I am going to let it slide.

There were some highlights, or at least moments of interest, last wee. I ate in AYA, a good sushi bar in Dublin. The sushi is excellent but slightly overpriced. Given the lack of sushi places in the city this is just about acceptable.

I found I had a cycst in my ring finger, no doubt from climbing, I lanced it and it healed quickly. It may have prevented me from climbing well last tuesday, I climbed poorly and realise that I must increase my specific finger training back to at least tree times a week rather than one if I am to see continued improvement in my climbing. This means installing my fingerboard in my house. I may do this in the coming weekend. I have not been in Dublin for a weekend for the past six weeks, this weekend I will stay in Dublin for sure.

This past weekend was spent in Kerry at Claire's parets house. About 10 people from across the country descended for a weekend of hillwalking and relaxation. I had hoped to climb a route called Howling Ridge but the weather was too wet. We walked up to Carintoohil instead, spot height 1039 m, the tallest place in Ireland. There is a large metal cross on the summit. I climbed half way to the top and then chose not to reverse. The cross was too wet and I was afraid of landing on my ankles.

My left ankle is holdin a slight injury so I am going to rest it this week. I amy try to do a little skipping and streching in order to up my cardio and flexability.

Yes definitly bumed about Edinburgh.

Claire was amazing again this weekend, I have only known her for three weeks and we have onjly been kising for two, a good indication of how much I like her is how quickly I am able to type this part of the daylog, the words, yeay even the commentary, is flowing out of my fingers, a clear sign that she is occupying a large part of my brain at the moment, I could spend pages describing how she maes me feel, it is still a very phyicsal realtionship and sometime thinking back over the past two weekends i begin to shudder involintariy with pleasure. I will be a gentleman and leave the detilas at that. She is coming up to Dublin next weekend and I will have a dinner, introduce her to some of my oldest friends, it will be a good time.

For now I am stuck in work hell, but I must remember to be gentle with myself over this, in time all this will pass, head up, thats it thats the spirit.

Today is my birthday. I was born 26 years ago today. I can't believe I am turning 26. I don't feel that old. I know 26 isn't exactly AARP territory yet, but I truly feel like I shouldn't be this age.

I remember when birthdays were special and it was something you looked forward to. I couldn't wait to turn 10, 13, 16, 18, 21...then it stopped. No more looking forward to certain ages. Odd isn't it.

It's not like I am depressed about it. I am, for the most part, happy with my life. I have a job that correlates to my degree (even if I don't make enough money for a hamster to live on), I no longer live with my parents (ok, so I live next door, but it's not WITH them), I have a wonderful boyfriend (he lives over 1100 miles away, but it's still a great relationship and I'm making plans to move closer to him). It was much harder for me to turn 25. It seemed like such a turning point. At 25, you can no longer claim to be a young adult. You can no longer blame stupid mistakes on your youth. You are simply an adult.

So here I am...25 years plus one. Happy birthday to me...

This is my first ever daylog. I've never felt I had anything worth saying in a daylog before, but I reckon the last weekend has been eventful enough to node. That, and I'm visiting my parents, so I'm away from my friends, and I feel like talking. I guess it's not really about today. Move it or ask me to if that bothers you.

The last weekend has been pretty hectic. It started on Saturday at about 1pm, when Bob (not his real name), the guy who runs the Mission phoned to ask me to spend a few hours giving out flyers for his club. The Mission is a big rock club in Edinburgh, and Bob was offering me free entry (£5 worth) and a tenner if I helped publicise the new under-18s version of the club. I love just walking around Edinburgh, it's a beautiful city, so naturally I agreed.

That took care of the day time; I met a lot of nice kids around town. The way teenagers get really worked up about this sort of thing is great, they have so much energy. At 7, I headed down to the club, to hang about and make sure none of the kiddies did themselves any harm. It was a good laugh; some of the dj's are mates of mine, and I liked the stuff they were playing. It meant I could satisfy my craving for rock early and spend all night on the more danceable goth floor when the grown-up mission started.

In between the two clubs they shut up for an hour to clear the place up, so me and a girl called Jessie (not her real name either) decided to head off to easyEverything, where nine9 works, for a while. I like Jessie a lot, but she's a strange girl. She's one of those people who try to be as bitchy as possible, and she can be damn mean at times. I try to look beyond that sort of thing, and to me she seems very fragile. I just want to tell her that everything will be fine, and that she has nothing to worry about, but I don't know how. I'm pretty sure she doesn't see me as anything more than a friend anyway, but I think I can live with that. We have similar interests; anime, goth music, stuff like that.

When we got to easyEverything she decided that she'd like to look at Team Rocket hentai. Despite the obvious ill-advisedness of looking at porn in an internet cafe, I smiled and sat at a spare seat beside her. She had paid for the time, and if she wanted to risk being thrown out I was game. But shock and horror! The Team Rocket hentai site had been banned, and recently. Who saw that one coming, eh? She is an odd girl, this Jessie. So instead we looked at pictures of some very worrying piercings. I really don't know why anyone would want to cut their penis in half, I really don't.

We hung around for half an hour or so, somehow without attracting the attention of any staff. On the way out I saw nine9, but I've never met him IRL before, and I wasn't sure enough that it was him to start a conversation. Maybe next time. We headed back to the club, where I met up with a couple of old school friends who I hadn't seen in a while, one of whom took pictures of random people all night and nearly got into a fight or two with people who took exception to it. He's a lunatic, but a great guy. I have odd tastes in friends, I suppose. A night of merriment and dancing ensued.

Soon time to leave came, and that sucked a bit. Not because it was time to leave, but because Team-Rocket-porn girl was sitting in tears by the door. She was having man trouble; I think it was to do with a guy she's been sleeping with but isn't going out with. She wasn't particularly coherent, but I think the real reason she's so upset is that she wants more than just casual sex from him, but she isn't getting it. I feel sorry for her; it's a nasty, messy situation to be in. The worst of it for me was that there was nothing I could do to help her. I don't know her very well, and she was talking to a good friend of hers who was no doubt helping her more than I could hope to. I said a few words to her, tried to tell her she'd be alright even though she didn't think she would, and left. It hurt like hell to be so utterly impotent seeing someone I care for so unhappy.

When I saw her the next day she had completely forgotten about the state she had been in the night before. She had been extremely drunk, and was highly embarassed when I told her my friend had a photo of her in her drunken state. She was making a version of top trumps using her friends from the local goth scene, being bitchy about a couple of them in a humorous, witty manner, and flattering about others. I'm starting to understand better why I like her. I'm glad she cheered up, but I hope she sorts things out, I really do.

Today I decided to come back home to St.Andrews and see my mum for a few days, so here I am at my brother's computer at 12:45am. I love my mum. She's a great person, and I'm genuinely flattered when people tell me I'm just like her. Maybe I'll write more about her another day. Maybe on my homenode. Well, thanks for reading my daylog, and what the hell, even if noone reads it I feel better for writing it.

Strange Days, indeed. Went to the orthopedic surgeon today (second opinion) and got some pretty devastating news. I have chrondomalacia patella, that's nothing new, but apparently my knees are in such bad shape, he told me that if I was 60 years old, he'd recommend knee replacement surgery. Egads! He told me some other things too, but the main thing I need to do is lose still more weight.

Now, I'd lost 30-40 pounds a year ago, and have been maintaining that loss. And have recently begun to lose more, thought I had about 15-20 to go to become a normal, healthy weight. And to hear this just threw me. I really wasn't expecting to hear something that dire. I freaked out, and that afternoon immediately got sick with some strange flu. Nausea, multiple bathroom visits, etc., etc.

At first I was very upset - you don't shed that much weight in a few weeks, it takes a few months. And at first I panicked. But then I realized how happy I was on vacation, doing some exercise every day, how good it made me feel. And I just need to continue the same and count calories. The first week would be the worst, but after that, it would be much easier.

The whole thing can be a catalyst for my eating disorder to take control of my life, or I can view it as intervention to save myself from becoming disabled. That is how I choose to view it.

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