Am I allowed to do this? I mean, just start a new day log? Even though the server time is “21:25:31 Wed July 4, 2001” but it is now 47 minutes after midnight in Tel Aviv…..

Well, I guess I am writing about tomorrow for most of you, while most of you are celebrating the independence of what for you is the only country on earth, I am sitting half way across the globe totally oblivious to the fact that yesterday was the Forth of July. Well, today, for you…

I really do love fireworks, I wish I didn’t have to miss that part of the holiday, I guess I will have to wait until some appropriate holiday is celebrated here.

Damn, with all that babble about today’s date, I sort of forgot what I wanted to write about….

Did any of you mentally correct me about saying I was oblivious, I mean I can’t be oblivious of a fact (at least not totally.) and state it, especially not in the same sentence. It would be an oxymoron… or something.

I always did wonder if I’ll ever be the first to write up a certain date, but then again, always isn’t always as long as it sounds.

Well, now it is time to go to sleep, and hope that I wake up and get the email I am waiting for tomorrow morning. I am not going to explain what it is and from whom, if and when I get one… I’ll be writing much too much about it anyways… and if I don’t… I guess it will bother you forever. No, maybe it won’t…. It will bother me though.

But she’ll send that email… I mean… she loves me….. Doesn’t she?

Fireworks are over......

But a new type of spectacle is taking shape. All I have to do is get it, the options are in front of me. Get an 8-ball, join the party. I have to be out on the farm to pick zuchini at 8AM. My friend and a couple of girls told me, they'd pay if I could place it. I can, and I told them I will. I'm not going out, sleep seems much more important to me these days. Trying to leave behind the life I've lived for 8 years doesn't happen easily. There are reasons that keep me in it, they seduce me. Being offered a finders fee doesn't even seem worth it. My friend who asked is a good person looking for a night to remember. Not being able to deny them that seems fake and shallow on my part, well guess what? 90% of the shit I deal with on a regular basis is fake and shallow. Help people get by, even if the means don't suit my needs.

Things shine more, food tastes better, and any other cliches re-enlightment phrases fit here. I took a step tonight, small as hell. But a step nonetheless. Respect and friendship aren't the same thing. Cocaine will pass through my hands, but not my nose. 8 hours of picking and cleaning vegetables on a farm will clear your head, but not clear the past......

I feel like fucking Doogie Howser.
daylogs suck

Some good and bad news.

Good ones were a paper on the table in kitchen. Yesterday evening when I came home late I found a paper on the table. It was left to me by my flatmate's mum who was introduced to E2 in my previous daylog. She wrote shortly saying thanks for the company and hoped all the best. Because I didn't expect anything like that it made me very, very happy.
I guess there's a lesson to learn for me because I'm afraid I'm not too good to give surprising, spontaneous positive feedback. This incident certainly will make me a better husband if I some day become one. There'll be flowers and all.. ;-)

A bad, a very bad thing is that I suspect my foot being broke again. I suffered a stress fracture half year ago and now the same foot shows the same symptoms.
And guess who bought grand new trainers yesterday (bargain price 450mk (~$60))! For a while I was quite fed up with running, thanks to injury plagued season, but yesterday I felt like breaking all the records next summer and training like a madman.
And now this -- thank you very much!

I drink too much water. I feel like my belly doesn't percolate it anymore. But it's very warm, even hot.

And I have to work on the day like this! It's a crime against humanity. I wish some one out there will take the professor of the department to Hague right after Milosevic. Goddamn exploiter! This is oppression.

The least I can do is to sabotage through noding at work.

The heat has melted my brains. My behaviour defies logic. I don't have that much money but yesterday I was consuming like I was the shultan of Bhutai. Not only I bought the trainers but also trousers and enermous amount of books: Dostojevski, Glue by Irvine Welsh, Nikolai Gogol...

One last bad thing: I got my photos from Belfast and Finnish Mid Summer Festival developed. There were only 32 out of 36 photos there. First, I didn't even notice I lack photos but then I started to look for the one where I'm pictured naked in a sauna, spanking myself with bath whisk. I couldn't found one and then I counted photos. 32.
For a moment I thought that the developing firm had confiscated some pictures, including the sauna pic. But I calmed down when I looked at negatives and these four were either blank white or totally black.
Fortunately I don't have any films from Czech Republic anymore..

Well, here we go ... The Day After my resolution to stop drinking (see also my entry on July 4, 2001 where I presented my idea to celebrate Independence Day in my own way: independence from alcohol. Now, this day is probably going to be the tough one, or, well, the first tough one: I will have to face the After Work Blues while sober.

Now, I enjoy my job - I run a language school, which every day presents a different and interesting collection of challenges. I am never bored at work. Quite the opposite - I usually work under stress, which keeps me going throughout the day. And of course, a drink after work has always been a good way to wind down for me.

But we're doing away with that now. A nice glass of orange juice after work for me today! Some more water to flush the pollution out of my system... I went through 3 full Brita pitchers yesterday!

Day 2 of my recovery... Send me positive thoughts!

Full moon today. Last full moon, I randomly sat down on the first day of summer school next to a really cute girl who's major is math, and I instantly decided that the power of the full moon had placed me in that seat so that I would meet her. Fate was finally working on my side. Last week, I found out she's 21 and married. Fuck you, moon.

My folks left home an hour before me today, granting me the opportunity to play some good wake up music, and also to face the dilemma of whether or not I should let the cat outside. My mother doesn't want the cat to ever leave the house, because the last cat she had was eaten by a coyote. This only happened because that cat ran away and left the yard in search of another cat who had recently died of a blood clot in her aorta, and these two had been allowed to go outside many many times before without getting into any trouble. But all the same, the new cat is forbidden to leave the house. Which sucks for the cat, because the inside of a house is extremely boring once you've managed to sneak outside a few times and see all the trees, rabbits, birds, and the "outside cat" and dog, the closest things to social equals you've ever met.

The cat just cries and cries and cries by the door, and I know that (a) it won't do any harm to let it out, (b) in a metaphorical sense, this cat is suffering from the smothering protection that my parents find themselves no longer able to force onto me (I am finally moving into an apartment next week). So I let it out and get ready for work. Half an hour later, I decide it's not worth the risk to my mother's mental health (if it got lost or died a week before I moved out, she'd be devastated) given that the cat is declawed, so I catch it and bring it in and instantly feel horrible. I'm not especially fond of the cat, but I'm enforcing rules I don't believe in and needlessly subjecting the cat to a horribly boring day, right after giving it the taste of Nature it yearns for more than anything else in the world. Not knowing what else to do, I put Kid A on the stereo before I leave hoping it might help the cat to relax.

Driving myself to work (for the first and probably last time), I notice at one point that there are cars within 5 feet of me in every direction, we're all going 65, and my head has been completely in the clouds. It occurs to me that people like myself, who spend every free second thinking about weird shit and stay relatively unaware of the details of their surroundings, are probably a much greater danger on the road than people with cell phones are. Maybe that should be part of the driving exam -- EEG read-outs while driving alone, and if your brainwaves dip too close to the alpha level you get stamped as a deep thinker, prohibited from driving any motorized vehicle. Hell, I like walking a lot better anyway. Maybe they'd start implementing special public transportation for the aware-of-all-the-monotonous-details-of-the-physical-world-ily impaired.

As usual, there's nothing for me to do at work. My immediate boss is gone for the week, and my pseudo-bosses (the "technicians", who know how to build things and give orders courtesy of their years in the armed forces) are busy fixing a wet bench and tell me to do "whatever I want". I check my pockets and discover that I'm not carrying any pot on me, so I proceed to waste lots of time by re-organizing all the Swagelok fittings that no one will ever use. After an hour, I go outside and pick up a copy of the campus newspaper, and flip through it until I happen upon this delightful advertisement:

Arizona Summer Wildcat: The U of A's # 1 source for news
Advertisers! Here's your chance to introduce your business or organization to incoming freshmen!

Campus Guide Issue
---publishes July 25, 2000
---summer circulation of 10,000
---5,000 additional copies will be mailed to incoming freshmen
---deadline July 20

The very best thing about the ad is the accompanying graphic, a hand-drawn picture of an incoming freshman with roller skates, headphones, a lunch pail and a Campus Guide. From his gaping, smiling mouth spew forth the words "WOW! Look at all these great places to spend money!" (Those who fail to see the humor here might be advised to check out some of my more recent write-ups... however they are not, due to the potential for hypocrisy)

If there's still nothing to do at work tomorrow, I imagine I can amuse myself for a few hours by making photocopies of the ad and adding clever captions.

Driving down a fairly major road during rush hour, I suddenly look up and see the next vehicle applying its brakes and getting closer to me. Untrained instincts call themselves to action, and I unnecessarily slam on the brakes on a wet road with wet tires and wet brake pads, and within 3 seconds I'm stopped half-sideways and half-way in the suicide lane. Noticing a large train of cars sitting still behind me, I drive the rest of the way into the turn lane and go down a side street. It's over an hour before I have to be anywhere, so after a little aimless driving around, I wind up at a Wendy's where I order a Biggie-Sized #4, and write down on a piece of yellow paper a couple thoughts that had crossed my mind in the parking lot:

  • Total independence (not having an immediate destination or any short-term goals) is still hard for me to come to grips with.
  • Being able to make arbitrary decisions (which way to turn in an empty parking lot) and seeing them carried out instantly amazes me. Much as the ability to manipulate objects amazed me my first time on DXM
  • The "moment of panic" when everyone claims to have a memory lapse and when instinct takes over is no different from the moments of boredom that precede it. Do you really remember with great detail what happened between mileposts 254 and 253 each day? Was anything but your instinct at work?
It is worth noting that today was the first time I'd driven a car in over a month, and that I've probably logged no more than 50 hours behind the wheel in my life.
Wow, I hit level 5 with this write-up. Yay!
Bean’s fur is beginning to grow back noticeably on his little arms and under his chin. His lumbar spine is still a little spiky, and well as his illianic crests, but they are not nearly as bad as a week ago. His health is slowly but surely returning, thanks to the love provided by family and friends.

Bean sends his special thanks to JayBonci, Lord Brawl, The Custodian and Freaek.

I set my alarm for 8:45 this morning. I believe I woke up long enough to turn it off and fall back asleep. I woke up fully at quarter after nine, jumped out of bed and raced out the door to work. Luckily I made it there without being late. However, I sacrificed brushing my hair, breakfast, and putting on makeup to do it. Long hair is very demanding in the mornings, so I was forced to take a break before opening the store in order to get it under control. The supervisor found a lost and forlorn strand left behind on the floor and got out the official tape measure to see exactly how long my hair is these days. The record is currently 36.25” (92.075cm). I need to get a four-inch or so trim within the next few weeks, so this will remain the record for at least three more months.

To make up for skipping breakfast, I went out to lunch at Burger King with Aaron. I had a #5, the Chicken Club minus mayo and bacon. Mayonnaise turns my stomach, but bacon makes me horribly sick. It’s not a voluntary thing. My intake of the day, therefore, consisted of:

Update: Dinner:

I kept busy as work most of the eight hours I was there. There were a surprising number of people out buying dishes this afternoon, so I was kept behind the register for a good portion of the shift. I sold an insane number of Yorktowne mugs to various older couples throughout the day. Even after restocking the mugs around three o’clock, they were still all gone by the time I left. This is truly amazing, seeing as how we have a massive amount of backstock of this particular item since it normally rarely sells. Susan (the manager) was excited to be rid of them.

Speaking of Susan, her daughter (Meredith) came into the store around two this afternoon and informed her mother that she had quit her job at the Linen Barn. I then got to hear about the reasons behind the quitting, and by the time that was done, Susan’s mother and sister had come to the store to say hello. Susan is Kyle’s mom. Kyle is one of my good friends and one of my boyfriend’s best friends. Therefore Susan’s mother is Kyle’s grandma, whom I have known for several years on a personal basis. We call her Nanz. I have only met Kyle’s aunt (Susan’s sister) once before, at his open house when he graduated three years ago. Nanz, Susan, and most of the family call Kyle by a shortened version of his middle name to avoid confusing him with his and Meredith’s father, Susan’s ex husband. In conclusion, my manager is the daughter of my third nana and mother to a friend.

I am in urgent need of new contacts. The ones I am wearing have been in and out of my eyes for the past three months – they’re supposed to be changed every two weeks. Lack of sleep added to unsafe contacts added to mild allergies (I love genetics) equals miserable eyeballs.

Ok, so why does life have to be so goddamn confusing sometimes. However, I never knew what the word confusion meant until I started dating women and, frankly, it's starting to piss me off. Now, when I say women, it's used as a term in general. Not all members of the female origan are Succubuses sent from Hell with the sole purpose of making a man's life a living shithole. Some are just hopelessly fucked in the head, with nothing better to do in life than live and act upon aimless thoughts and ideas without any sense or explanation of WHY?!? And they have the audacity to say that men are pigs? Maybe so, but if women had any sence of rationality, they might understand WHY. Maybe all they really deserve is a PIG. In my oponion, they get what they're asking for. If your not stuck in a relationship with some freak, here's a general rule. Treat your queens like whores, and your whores like queens. As with most things, there are exeptions to the rule. Throughout my lifetime I've ran into a few women who actually have a head on their shoulders, and who know what being in a relationship is all about. As a man, I say FUCK YOU to any women that thinks bitching is a priority in life. God, if anything pisses me off it is a bitchy women. Right now, sick as it is, I'm stuck living with a girl who is a fucking who knows how to do nothing but bitch and moan about everything. I could go on forever, but works over, and I'm going home to finish something that was fucked from the beginning. -Women are the personification of all that is evil. -unknown

With the recent BC Transit strike in Vancouver, I've had to buy a car. We're on day 95 of the strike and it is getting more and more unpleasant to drive in this town. I commute every day from Kitsilano (in west Vancouver) to Simon Fraser University (on Burnaby Mountain), a 45 minute drive. Luckily, I am 'reverse-commuting', against the main flow of traffic. However, people are still driving like morons.

I wish I had a big programmable sign on my car, so I could tell people things instead of just thinking bad karma at them.

"Please stop riding my ass; this is a courtesy car and I don't mind slamming its brakes on."

"Your choice of music is not my taste, and your blaring it from your open-air jeep only irritates me and everyone around me."

"Hello, large truck. I am in this lane and am about to be crumpled into an accident if you continue to swerve into my lane."

"Your windows are transparent and everyone can see you picking your nose"

"I'm not wearing any pants."

Talked to M. tonight. I found out that I had apparently made a terrible mistake when I broke up with him back in May. I talked all around it, and thought that my words were clear and terrible enough, what more did I have to say? but apparently not. I never said "I'm not in love with you anymore" to him.

The truth is, it never occurred to me that this was, indeed, the case. I love him, have loved him for years, and never thought to say those words. I don't think of the way I feel/don't feel about him in those terms, so it just didn't come up. I thought saying," I need to be free, I need to be alone, I want to date women, I'm not happy with points a, b, and c about you and they are important to me" would be enough to give him that message.

But obviously not. I just don't think he wanted to hear it. I told him in so many different ways it was over. it took months to break up with him. I broke up with him five or six times. He finally got it tonight.

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