I was going to post this as its own node, but decided against it. If I came across this in, say, 4 years, it would appear glaringly dated. So I went with the daylog.


The E2 musings of a Lowly Initiate after 1 month of Residency:

Well I thought this was all over and done with. She dumped me, months ago. Gone from my life, and me from hers. It seems, however, that new things just keep on turning up. This is all so childish, so pathetic, but it still hurts when I find out what she up to behind my back, while I couldn't see past the big smile up front.

I found an e-mail, not to me but I needn't go into the details of how I aquired it. It seems she and her friends composed a brief opera regarding how should would dump me. Thinking back, the actual event was worrying similar, in an artistic sense, to the contents. I'm posting it here because I want to get it out of my system, and also because some of it is amusingly pathetic and sycophantic. I don't expect sympathy votes. In fact, given my record on daylogs, I expect brutal down voting. I've left it warts and all, except to add a few links here and there, and names have been changed to protect the innocent. She will know be known as Lucy. Loo is still me. Right then:


Are you stuck in a relationship that you don’t know how to get out of? Is you’re partner driving you insane? Well here is a novel idea....dump them....in a musical. Produced for Lucy by Sarah, Alice and Linda, with special help from others. Thank you guys. You’re so supportive.

Setting: A suburban street

Lucy: I, we, have something to tell you.....
Loo: U do? What is it?

*******************************
<All pop up from behind hedgerows, walls etc>

Dumping youuu!
All of us together yes we’re
<skate 2 middle of street on rollar blades, join in line formation>
Dumping youuu!
Lucy doesn’t want you any more,
You’re such a bore,
oh Loooo....
<all spin round>
We’re dumping you...
We’re-dump-ing-you.....!!!
trumpet crescendo

Don’t need you bay-bee
U’ve bin around 2 long
U’re far 2 lazy
That’s y we wrote this song
Don’t need u bay-bee
Trust in us wen we siing
<Catch hats and canes thrown out by people from upstairs windows who then join in>
Don’t bother bay-bee
I just don’t need you, Loo
Let’s make this speedy
Coz i’ve got stuff to do
You’re just not worth it
-u won’t even come 2
prom, u tit.....
<tap dance interlude and then a breakbeat>

boom chh, dumping u, boom chh, dumping you, boom chh etc
Yo listen up, i’ve got something 2 say
we’re bin going out 4 a year and a day
I hate ure flirtiness and ure friendship with Chester
between you and me she’s a ponytailed Fester
don’t bother- ain’t nothing u can do
i’m a superstar rapper and I’m dumpin u
<breakdance interlude>

<elephants and trapeze artists appear. Fireworks, Chinese dragons, people in cakes, dancing penguins>
<music returns. waltzing couples. all join in final verse>

and so, u c, it’s truee- we’re thruuu
WE’RE DUMPING YOUUUUU

<Irish jig madly to fade>

Stunned Loo. Lucy returns breathless from jigging.

Loo: sarcastic anything else I should know?
Lucy: thinks erm...
Dancers and Lucy: There’s someone else!!!!

<Dancers who were walking away, turn round, all wearing “we love X T-shirts and begin to sway.>

He’s just 2 good 2b trueee
Way superior 2 uuuuu
He feels like heaven to touch
and I wanna hold him so much
at long last love has arrived
and I thank god I’m alive
he’s just 2 good 2b truee
and that’s y I’m now dumping u- fade

<dancers encircle Lucy, lift her up as music swells at key change>

Lucy: I close my eyes,
<Lucy lowered to ground, begins to stalk sexily 2wards Loo in stilettos and thigh split dress>
so I can’t see u
Dancers: <with wagging finger movement> aaa-aaa-aaa
Lucy: cos u look like poo
Dancers: ah-ha-haaaaa
Lucy: That’s y we’re dumping youu
Dancers: da-da-da-dumping youuu....

<smoke billows, engulfs dancers who fade 2 background, Lucy stands, statuesque, smiling sweetly, banner of "someone else" unfurled behind her, smoke clears, reveals dancers an AMAZING ruffly can-can outfits/tuxes, in freeze. Dancers part girl-boy, kiss on cheeks>
Pause.
Crazy Can-can music begins Moulin Rouge Stylee. Everyone dances like there’s no 2moro, cue firework display; glitter, fire etc. Every1 groups 2getha in pyramids, Lucy lifted high, enthroned by human chain of tuxedo-ed males, smiling broadly, shakey outstretched hand movements......

All: DUMPING YOU!!!!

Hold freeze, music ends, fin.


Incidentally, her relationship with the "someone else" mentioned lasted one week, after he released he was being used. Perceptive guy.

So, after my last daylog posting, some kind folks, worried about my situation. I am in Japan, working, on a tourist visa that expired yesterday. Technically, Japan doesn`t give tourist visa extensions to American tourists, and technically you can not get a tourist visa extended because you are waiting for your work visa, no matter your country of origin. But I called the good people in Nagoya, the immigration office that is handling my papers, and they said that I should go apply for a tourist visa extension. So, I did.

I had to go to Shizuoka city to do this, but I did not mind at all, since I live in a small town (by Japanese standards, though certainly not by New Mexico standards), and going to Shizuoka is a very diverting way to spend an afternoon.

At the immigration office, there was the usual scattering of dejected looking South Americans, but no one seemed to actually be being helped. So I walked up to the nice looking fellow behind the counter and asked if he could understand English. Thankfully, he could. He gave me the necessary application, and then took me over to one side and began whispering to me without looking at me, a sure sign I was being let in on some big secret.

"Understand," he began, "your explanation of why you want a visa extension is very important. We cannot grant a visa extension because you are waiting for a work visa. So, perhaps you have more sightseeing you need to do before you return to your country? Or perhaps you have friends you wish to visit? Understand, this is very important." Finally he looked at me. "Do you understand?"

I assured him I understood and filled out the application. When I gave it to him, he skimmed it and gave a small nod and smile to me. A short while later, I was blessed with a stamp in my passport noting that I had applied for an extension. So I am more or less legal in Japan again. Next week, I have to go back and get the actual tourist visa extension stamped in my passport. At least that is the idea. They could deny it. But he seemed sure they would grant it.

And then I just go back to waiting for the work visa processing to finish, which is probably going to be another month. Given how things have worked out, I will be nearly finished with this year`s contract before I have my gaijin card. Fortunately, I am not especially prone to serious illness or accidents, so I don`t have that much reason to care.1 So long as I am more or less legal and therefore not under immediate threat of deportation, I`m cool.2

I realize that subconsciously I want to be forced to leave so I can go to Slovenia and spend a month or so looking for a new job in Japan and getting smashed on gin and dreadful homemade Akvavit every night with my best friend. It would be a good excuse to go back to living the fuck-up lifestyle I so adore. As I have often said, I really long to disappoint people, myself included.

But the greater part of me knows how stupid that would be and how much I have to lose by being so bloody irresponsible as to let my tourist visa expire. I am on my way to financial stability for the first time in a long time. I love my boyfriend. My Japanese is improving rapidly.

And, dammit, in the move to Slovenia, I would miss at least a few World Cup games. And that would be intolerable.

1You need the gaijin card to get health insurance, other than traveler`s insurance.

2I say "more or less legal" because I am still working technically with only a tourist visa, and technically this is illegal. But this is a small matter compared with having no visa at all.

I warn you, never never write the year book for your school! Picture after picture, page after page of people that you swear you have never seen before in your life: you can hear yourself saying 'I thought this person left 3 years ago.' It's just proof of the lonely life you have been leading for the past 3 years, the same life that has driven you to write the year book in the first place.

So, you've got most people's pages in, except of course the rebellious few, those that resist being told what to do and so are making a stand, only to be upset when the final book is printed because their page appears to be blank: Thats how they shall go down in history.......as a blank page.

The worst part to it all has to be when you come across the page of somebody you really hate. Its the pain of having to let this self-described "wonderful" person pass without a bad word said against them. It is far too difficult to resist adding a little "Well actually, I beg to differ" somewhere, but as the year book creator, one must hold back.

So as you sit there: 'phoning printing company after printing company, at least you can think to yourself "I'm not the only person that has been through it..." and the obvious thought of "Why did I ever do this in the first place?"

Perhaps the best thing about writing the year book is that you then get to write it up, to an audience which perhaps understands Americaniation of the world, and will, therefore, understand the integration of such things as year books or the school prom.

Although I refuse to do the prom either.

Intense Stomach Pain: Refuses to Go Away until after Eating some Bread

Today, I realized that drinking Frutopia or any other cold flavored drink on an empty stomach may lead to intense stomach pain.

I had gotten out of bed today almost 30 minutes late, and it was critical that I got to the bus stop or else I would be brutally murdered by my parents (or face the equally horrendous alternative of walking 11 miles to school).

Anyway, I ran out the door as fast as I could, only bothering to brush my teeth and nothing else, no showering or eating breakfast, just running as fast as I could with my pants hanging loosely around me (as I did not have enough time to buckle up my belt). I made it to the schoolbus about 1 second before it was going to leave.

After arriving at BCA, I was very hungry/thirsty.

Due to my sprinting and also my skipping of breakfast, I was insanely thirsty so I decided to go and buy something at the school cafeteria. They were selling bagels and drinks for a dollar each, but buying a bagel for a dollar didn't seem worth it. Anyway, I figured I was more thirsty than hungry, so I took a full bottle of Frutopia. I quickly drank it before the first class of the morning started.

The next thing I know, I was practically rolling on the floor in agony

My stomach felt like it had been punched repeatedly by someone very strong, say George Foreman and constantly swelled in pain. Well, it didn't actually swell, but it felt like it. Imagination I guess. I can't explain it, but now I realize: never drink Frutopia on an empty stomach. Must be the acid or flavor or just the coldness of it. It was until I ate some bread for lunch that the pain abided.
So here's the plan:
  1. Lose the weight.

    - I calculate I'm going to have to lose close to 6 stone in order to be back near my prime condition. That's 6 * 14 = 84 pounds. Or put it another way, two years of safe dieting. Today is beginning of week one.
  2. Daily Memory Exercises

    - The mind atrophies without use, and the most notable victim of this adaptive trait is the memory. I intend to keep mine sharp and clear and intact by remembering everything that happened during the day, and yesterday before I sleep. And recalling them in the morning before I work. Practice makes perfect.
  3. Mental Training

    - Visualisation stamina, and range training. Mental Arithmetic, and algebraic equations practice. Meditation, and mnemonisation regimen.
  4. Social Life Invigoration

    - Many of my friends are graduating this year, as did many last year. Keep in touch, write letters regularly, not just emails, send presents on important days, and meet regularly. People are important, and good friends can only be kept by being a good friend.
  5. Node till I Drop

    - At least two nodes per day on average. Not counting Day/Dream logs etc. It's important to recover from the 6 month long exile. My thoughts are coming to me more easily.
Today was dreary in the Boston area. Where is summer? Ugh!!!!. At least I am going south to Texas this weekend to visit my family. I'm sure it will be nice and hot there.

Work is busy. This is my mantra whenever somebody asks. I suppose it would be less so for me if I got a life...but I enjoy work, and I am slowly getting one. Whenever I rush into the "getting a life" thing, I tend to screw up even worse.

Just found out from my previous landlord that he is going to let me out of my lease a couple of months early. This is very nice because I'll save some bucks I had already forgotten. On the other hand, I now have to get those last few boxes outta there.

Heard a joke at a meeting recently, but I don't remember who it was attributed to:

I was asking myself the other day "What is the most important organ of the body?", and thought "The brain of course!". But then I asked myself, "Who is telling me this?"

Almost killed myself today

That requires some explanation:

We arrived in LA. As I expected, LA was a pit, a vision of hell that I wish we had bypassed1. All of our plans fell through at the last minute; we were rescued at the last minute by Chris's mom, who happened to be in LA at the time. Lucky us.

In LA, we got an afternoon's worth of stuff done -- spread out over 4 days in the back seat of a car, in close quarters with someone suffering from the flu. Despite being as careful as we could be, one of us got the disease.

It took us two days after we left LA to find this out. As we rolled into Ludlow, CA, Chris started to feel bad. What I thought was probably slight dehydration or heatstroke (this is the middle of the desert, after all) turned out to be the flu. Ludlow is one of those depressing towns that exists only to serve the interstate, a little bulge on the arterial wall of I-40 which feeds the cars and humans who speed across the Mohave at 1.1 miles per minute. Two gas stations flank the freeway (you don't even need to cross that annoying overpass), and along with an overpriced motel, a Dairy Queen, a greasy spoon diner and a bunch of burned out abandoned building comprise the entirety of the town. Everyone at the cash registers seemed to be angry at each other. After photographing the wreckage of the breakup of 66 and finishing the last unread book we had with us, there was nothing left to do in the town except stare at the television and eat one of the 3 dishes at the diner that didn't have meat in it.

We finally got underway on the 4th. I think Chris could tell how impatient I was to get underway; I'm sure he was eager to get out of there as well. Unfortunately, he wasn't entirely over the flu. There's a big difference between feeling well in a air conditioned motel room and feel well enough to go biking 60 miles in the middle of a desert. I tried to take it slow, but every time I'd zone out I'd leave Chris way behind. Twice I got so far ahead I couldn't see him. By the time we got into Essex2 I was dead tired and Chris was worse.

Team Dada dissolved. Chris decided he didn't want to go through the desert if I was going to be a mile ahead all the time, and I don't blame him. It's too bad we had to find out I'm an inattentive ass in the desert.

This morning, Chris called for a ride to the nearest outpost of civilization. By the time he arranged for a cab ride to Palm Springs it was 7:30 am, and hour after the latest I should have left for the day's ride. And the day's ride was the toughest I'd had yet.

I had known about the gentle uphill that was ahead of me, but 700 feet over 20 miles was no sweat. With a mean-sprited headwind it was a different matter. I was averaging around 10 mph less than I had on similar terrain the day before. I took breaks, but by the summit I was not feeling well. It was already 11:30 and I had 30 miles to go.

The descent was almost as awful, as the temperatures had climbed well above 100 and the headwind had shifted to a gusting wind from the north. At one point I was pushed off the road by a particularly strong gust.

20 miles from Needles, my destination for the night, I felt a little nauseated. I took a break under a train overpass, and felt a little better after half an hour out of the sun. 10 miles from Needles I felt considerably worse and took a longer break under an overpass on I-40. Even though I wasn't feeling great, I didn't think 10 miles was that big of a deal and started down the hill to the town. As I rolled into the city limits my body seemed to shut down. I felt like I was about to throw up, so I dismounted on an overpass not 50 yards from a Carl's Jr. Everything in my body seemed to say that the best course of action was just to sit down and take a little nap in the sun, right by the side of the highway. While it may seem a cliché, I had to force myself into getting back on the bike and rolling just a little farther to the hotel. For the first time in my life I had to "will" mysef into doing something my body very sincerly didn't want to do.

A few hourse of AC restored my sense (if not my strength); I realized how bad it would've been to reach that stage where I gave up 10 or 20 or 40 miles from civilization. When Chris and I talked about this trip, priority number one was not to die. So, I've decided to scrap the remainder of the trip. If I had another person to watch my back and stop me from doing dumb stuff like riding through the Mohave with heat exhaustion3, I'd continue. But I don't, so 1500 miles will have to be enough.


1: This is not to say that nothing was good or that I hated everything I did there. I was glad to have met a lot of good people, and as with all experiences it was important for me to have seen LA, if only to be able to, in ink, cross it off the list of places I'd like to live.

2: Which turned out to be a ghost town, so we had to camp out in the sagebrush.

3: Or whatever I had...

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