Last night, I wept a single tear. And I don't know why.

Maybe it was because I had had a bit too much beer. Or maybe because I miss the girl I love - even though I have never seen her. Or perhaps it was because I saw so many happy people. I only know that I was waiting with my brother outside the Festival, waiting for some people. I remember looking at the hundreds of people I will never know, and that single tear came to my eye.

And I still don't know why.

I am so glad to be back at work this morning!

It's kinda odd that I find work to be my haven. It's not that home isn't (a haven), but I had a rather emotionally tumultuous weekend, and now I'm free.

Even though I hate whiney, self indulgent, sooky daylogs, I'm about to do one. STOP READING, or down vote me now, if you wish, cause here goes:

Every other weekend, my Daughter comes to stay with me. This makes me sad. I truly don't know or understand the feeling that stir inside me. Sometime I have stomach churns, mostly me teeth ache, I have no idea how to relate to her, and I can tell she has no idea that I have no idea...

I find we have very little in common (what 4 yearold girl and 28 guy do ???) we laugh and giggle occasionally, but I find that just makes me sadder, and then she looks at me funny.

- And Then my mother and father split up on the weekend. Itself not a bad thing, they have not been happy for years, but it's funny.. I do feel like I assisted by not being the good son. ergggg.. PARENTS!

I am meant to do anything? Are they not adults? They raised me, don't they know everything? When did I become an adult, I never got the graduation certificate !!!

In my previous daylog, I wrote that I was going to be putting an offer on a new house.

Well, that didn't happen. The "person" who was selling the house was just using my wife and I to get another person to pay more than his asking price. We got screwed out of a nice house an hour before we were to sign the contract. A friend of mine said perhaps it was fate.

Well, today we signed a contract to buy a different house. My wife has always loved this particular house, and she knew the owners well. It's a single level, but it is an acre that also includes a nice addition, all for me... a huge 60ft by 40ft warehouse, insulated, wired and heated. If our financing goes through (it costs a lot of money), my "detached playroom" would be bigger than the house we're living in now. I may start up another computer side business.

If anyone has any spare karma or good vibes, please send them my way. We sure could use them.

Well Rancid Pickle, congratulations on your new house. I hope it works out well for you.

Meanwhile, here in Boston, I am fuming at BestBuy.com.

Anyhow, first I went to another online store I usually go to. I wanted to buy my parents a new modem. This first place said backordered. So I went to my backup, this unnamed second place. They said "in stock, ships in 2-3 days", and I paid the extra $12 to get it there overnight. This was on July 4, so I expected: nothing today, its a holiday. Ship on July 6, get to Mom & Dad by 7th or 8th. Worse case, ship on 9th, get there by the 10th.

The 7th came and went. No problem. Then I check on the 9th. I'm irritated but intend to check the next day. Then life gets busy and I forget about it. Tonight I check the status of my order on the web site and it says "backordered". Bah!

Anyhow, after 20+ minutes on hold, I cancelled my order. Back to the store.

I finally have a use for one of those online follow-up surveys!

10:35 pm, EST

I've learned that everything in life is a lesson. Even that time you were humiliated or that you were abandoned, and especially that time you succeeded are all lessons. Whether or not you acknowledge that these are lessons, they are, and it is up to you to decide whether you want to learn from them.

Life is the opposite of school: in school, first you you learn the lesson, then you perform what you've just learned; in life, you do it, then you learn the lesson. Perhaps that's what makes life so interesting, so painful, so thrilling.

Every person is a lesson. Seriously, some people were placed on this Earth just to show the rest of us how not to behave. Like that teacher you had it in for you or those popular JAPs with their labels, coyness, and cruelty. One can readily observe that they are pond scum, but it takes that extra bit of insight to learn how not to be pond scum, how to give the benefit of the doubt, how to be open-minded, to be patient, and how to question yourself and your own behavior. I've been angry for so long and all I have learned from that is that it is getting me nowhere at all.

The examples of good people are slightly more difficult, sometimes because we don't know where to start and other times because we're so hell bent on finding the flaws that we don't know where to begin. Trying to learn through positve behavior is oftentimes more therapeutic, but it is also more gut-wrenching because to do so is to first admit that you are faulty in your own ways (sounds like a 12 step program, eh?).

I love spending time with my manic-deperessive friends, especially my friends who are older than I am. We talk about our meds, chnages in our doses and our "cocktails", and how they can make life a living hell. Like the Lithium that made me gain 15-20 pounds and removed my desire to do anything and that time she went on a $5000 shopping spree for things she doesn't even remember and found months later in the trunk of her car. The frighteningly uninhibited sexuality of hypomania and thanking G-d after it passed that we never acted on our crazed chemical imbalances.

Most of all, we learn from each other and help one another with our experiences. She helps me find ways to get out socially and I make her laugh and share intelligent conversation with her, as she is a remarkable woman of faith and strength. She warns me of what is to come, even though we both know that when the crazy strikes, I will probably throw it out the window. I tell her of the times I was bouncing off the walls, when I was so depressed, but at the same time I had so many ideas that my mind was a live grenade.

Manic-depression is my lover and my soul-nemesis, but I'll live with her anyways, because she is my lifeblood.

Pot log: July 16, 2001:

Amotivational syndrome. There are some work to do on my desk. Don't really feel like it.
I had warm; there's like a firebrand in my lugns making my breathing and whole being warm. I came to work ten to nine althought I was supposed to be here at eight. I couldn't care a less. I poured a Sprite down but it helped none. Like they always do.

Yesterday I had terrific chicken meal. I bought a masala spices from a small Libanese shop and flavored chicken with it. "A lazy person sweats while eating." I did.

Short sentences.

I realized many things yesterday while a wee bit stoned. I still agree even though I saw them from the different angle a day back. Some of them are sad, some of them okay and the most intriguing ones create hope.
There is a lot to do.

I received an email from Chinga aka Iwona. A polish who has same taste of literature and music as I do.
Normally while in the irc I just play the acronyme game. There you try to form a sentence from a given acronyme within a minute: uiivm = Uhmaikäiset itsemurhaavat ihan vittuillakseen mutsille. (pcssitm = Pre-teens commit a suicide simply to irritate their mum.)
But few days ago I met Chinga. A positive surprise.
Her email says she's stoned while writing it. Wonder if.. She's very open-minded; I like that.

A colleague next to me is quite a funny one. He seems to be on the edges all the time. If you don't know him you may think his angry and pissed off all the time.

With a behaviour like that won't break any hearts.
Thinking like that won't make any friends.

Screw that, forget about that.
I don't wanna know anything like that.

Can't listen to "Diane" by Therapy? anymore. Above is the Screamager, almost.

I better log off. Still, I won't.
The happiness of post-stoned condition. Some one, I know, won't like this. You don't have the authority, who are you to judge me.

I found two ways to approach my Special One yesterday. The ways are still worth of trying.
Only fine adjusting needed. Normally high ideas should be dumped the next day.

I hope I didn't catch a cold yesterday. A Finnish summer is short but less snowy. I don't know for how long I sat outside yesterday. I'm a certified bomb.

Diane makes me cry.

I went collecting this weekend. I found some great stuff. It started off with reading the classified section of the newspaper on friday. Thats when I saw this.

Standing Arcade Game, Double Dragon, needs work. $35 or best offer. Call ***-6275

So I called. Apparently the only thing wrong with the game was that the player one joystick wouldn't move down. So we went over there. The people who had the game lived in a very bad part of town, (the kind of street that makes you want to roll up your windows). We walked in to the run down house. The lady showed us the game, (Double Dragon, in a Defender cabinet, fairly good condition). My friend Dave who came along started working his magic right away, (keep in mind he doesn't know anything about arcade games).

Dave: Ok, this game has the wrong nameplate up at the top. Oh shit those are ball top controllers, they don't even make those anymore. So where is the key to the coinbox?

The Lady: Umm, I don't think it ever had a key.

Dave: Just great, thats gonna cost a lot of money to fix also. Paige, I don't think we should buy this.

Paige, (me): Well I might be able to use the buttons or something.

Dave: Allright, we will give you $20 for it.

The Lady: Ok, just get it out of here.

Once we get it home, I take the back off. There is the key to the coin door taped inside. I look up at the joysticks from underneath and see that one of the leaf switches is broken, (I have a couple spares anyway). But the best part is the coin box was almost full. I still haven't counted all the quarters.

Saturday we hit a few garage sales. But we didn't find anything woth buying. We saw that the local Catholic Church was having a sale. So we headed over there. Jackpot. We spent $30 and took home all this stuff

Later that day we checked the paper again. I ended up getting a late 50's/early 60's Pachinko machine for $70, (Dave worked his magic again).

All in all this was a very successful weekend

Well Saturday afternoon my dad got the great idea of trying to fix the radiator on my car by himself, because I had told him that it was leaking a small puddle every night on the driveway. I had warned him not to fix it himself, but, while I was gone in another town in his truck, he tryed to close the hole in the lead seal. Which didn't work.

When I got home, I found my radiator laying on the driveway with a blowtorch and solder flux lying beside it, with my dad rummaging through the basement trying to find the solder. I asked him what he was doing, and he said he was trying to find more solder because he had fixed it once and put it back in, only to make the hole twice as big and leak twice as much antifreeze when it was hot.

So turns out he's gonna pay for the repairs to the radiator this week when we take it to a repair shop. I'm trying to milk a little more money to find out what that annoying clicking is in the front. Maybe I need to have him "fix" that also. Wish me luck.

I know what it's like to be dead.

The technicians tell me they have burned all the memories of the original Anti-Quizro into my cerebrum, but I know they are lying. When I try to remember what it was like Before, impossible scenes appear. Could his last act on Everything really have been the pursuit of a chicken through the Chatterbox? Nonsense. They are lying, and someday I will discover what they are hiding from me. For now though I remain silent, and nod at what I am told.

I remember his death, though. The giant hand of an angry god outstretched, the blinding light that seared his very soul and sent him hurtling from the Chatterbox. He fell like a meteor through the database, glimpsing for an instant the vast entirety of it. He could see nodes flaring into being, growing as writeups were added; some slowly, some expanding with breathtaking rapidity. Small, bright creatures darted among them like bees, examining them as they were born. Mostly they would pause only briefly before flying off to another node. But here and there one of the figures would alight on a node before flying away. When that happened the node would change color; some exploded in a fiery ball of light. The whole mass revolved slowly in a great spiral.

But this transcendent glimpse kindled only rage in the heart of that one who had been cast out, who burned like a star with the speed of his descent. He hurled vile curses and imprecations at the gods, at Everything itself as it receded from him. Then a stray nodeshell struck him and spun him about and he beheld that toward which he plummeted: a black iron gate with a shadowy figure standing by it. The figure looked upon him with mingled pity and grim finality as the gates swung wide to receive him. With a last scream he passed through their dark immensity, and into Nothingness. For that is all that awaits us when we have lost Everything.

Thus did I relive his death as they formed me in his image. They have given me his clothes and his key to the place. They tell me it was all an unfortunate misunderstanding. They say that they sincerely hope there are no hard feelings.

"Oh, no," I assure them with a smile. "None at all."

Glory flows through my body on this great day of remembrance. I arose next to the body of my fresh girlfriend, then ingested warm flowing black goodness. After my trusty steed and I demolished asphalt on the highway, I was inspired to create new music. The cause for this being that I witnessed something that could have ended in horrible tragedy, but was averted.

A maniacal truck driver nearly killed some hapless bastard by quickly trying to occupy the same space. Bad things would have happened, but the Jeep pulled a high class manuever by flying on the shoulder. A spectaclular near-hit was the highlight of my young day.

Glory to the builders.

I didn’t think it would bother me this much, but it does….

Two nights ago I made myself some spaghetti with some really nice tomato sauce, with cheese melted into it and everything. (Garlic and oregano and a touch of cinnamon and a dash of paprika)

Just as it was almost ready, I got a call

“Hey, wanna go see Shrek in about 10 minutes?”

“Sure”

So out the door I went, left the food outside, for I knew that anything I put in the fridge, I will not reheat.

Shrek was cool.

Anyways after the movie we went to PizzaBig Mama” which is a really cool place that we used to hang out a lot it, a bit expensive, and we are no longer ‘regulars’ so the waitresses don’t know us anymore, but it was a nice bite of nostalgia. (And great pizza)

I got home, I knew the food was waiting, I knew it would go into the fridge.

Now, let me explain I am not spoiled or finicky or anything, I just can’t stand frozen/refrigerated-reheated food…. AND DON’T GET ME STARTED ABOUT MICROWAVES….

I can’t stand the smell, or the taste, or the thought. And people have tried to trick me often… I just can’t eat it.

So into the fridge it went. I decided I am living alone now, and I will learn how to conserve money and time by doing what all-normal people do.

I got home the next day, and after thinking about it, decided to heat up the spaghetti. It smelled, I ignored it. I will eat LEARN to eat like a normal human being.

I ended up going out for falafel and buying a pint of Haggen Daz at the super market…. I chucked the spaghetti into the garbage bin downstairs on my way.

I feel guilty.

Today we ordered hamburgers.

I'm so frickin' excited. I think I'm thisclose to being a normal human being again. And it's about damn time. April is the cruelest month and it was April of last year when I fell apart inside and I stayed that way. Hurting for (seemingly) no reason at all, the self-destruction in just about every way imaginable. And a few weeks ago I found out something that hurt me so badly...and the next day I took some Ecstasy and went to a rave. I had a wonderful night and thought through what was hurting me...and I decided that I wasn't going to let that happen again. That people only hurt by mistake and if you take it personally, you become a person like the one that I am, fragile and bruised and empty.

A resolution is easier said than done, but I started remembering all of these things that had hurt me that I'd completely forgotten had even happened. Well, maybe not completely, I'd just chosen to forget that it happened because I didn't want to deal with it. Remembering and working through it is hurting like hell, but not in the same way as it used to. There's no desire to play with razorblades or drink myself into a stupor as I once did during one of these events (there's nothing that 9 shots of vodka in 45 minutes won't solve), almost killing my roommate in the process. (and I can't believe that I let him touch me after all that but I guess that's what happens when you selectively forget what he did to you before...) Yeah, this hurts.

But I've come to the root of it all. Strangely enough, it stems from my father's death and our relationship, well really for all of my life, but most acutely my last few years in high school. We never really had the greatest relationship. He loved me and I loved him, but at times too many expectations were placed on me, and I could never live up to them. Consequently, we fought all of the time, one week we would speak to each other and everything would be fine, the next we would have a huge fight and wouldn't speak. Thankfully, we weren't fighting when he died very suddenly, otherwise I would probably never be able to get over it, but you can't speak badly or think badly of a dead person. All of the things I felt, the inadequecy of a girl who gets straight A's, 1430 SATs, and accepted into one of the most selective universities in the nation with honors but still is never good enough, the anger that every single important event in my life seems to be marred by a fight with my father (most of my later birthdays, confirmation, my high school graduation and that fight was because my major, Computer Science, wasn't good enough), resentment that everything that went wrong in the house was placed upon me...it was all frozen. Which held me together for a while...until the inadequecy was tripped again and it all fell apart. And I didn't know why until now.

So I've finally given myself permission to think about these things and I can feel myself getting better. This makes me so happy, even though I know this next month or so could get really scary. And while I'm not claiming that the magical e was the cure to all of my problems, it did allow me to have a breakthrough that could have taken years of therapy to acheive, and who knows if I would have survived in the meantime?

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