Sunday, 13:38

Dull Sunday trivia daylog, nothing to see here, move along...

Awoke early (again) to return the rental car to the airport, via our storage locker to drop off all the hardware goodies that now live back in Canberra, no longer at the agency in Sydney. Pity I have no room for the 21" Hitachi monitor (my desk at home, where I'm typing now, currently has a Mitsubishi 17", a Hitachi 15", a ThinkPad, a beige G3, a full-tower Linux server, an Epson inkjet, a digital camera docking station, speakers (incl subwoofer) and two sets of keyboards and mouses. One more item and I am officially divorced.)

I'm sending the 150 or so screen shots of Derek's big shave-for-charity to him now (quite a big archive). Also ripping the last of our CD collection (we've got through all but 30, now occupying just under 60Gb on the server).

This afternoon will (hopefully) include a couple of pints, outside in the sun, at our local. Then to cook a nice meal (I've some lovely organic beef mince to have fun with) and back to Sydney tomorrow morning. Looking forward to a week of farewell dinners and drinks, including a nice dinner at sneff's new restaurant, Klassroom in Surry Hills on Tuesday night... yum


Douglas Adams died on May 11, 2001.
Perry Como died May 12, 2001.
Celebrity deaths come in threes.

Who Will Be Next?



I am...



Yup, finals are over. My late German homework is done and turned in. All of my big packing and hauling of heavy trunks up four high fucking flights of stairs to summer storage is done. Tomorrow, at last, I leave Minnesota for home—Portland. The train heads out at 23.15.

God, do we have an ugly train station here in the Twin Cities. It's a 1970's monstrosity located in the middle of a dull industrial area halfway between Minneapolis and St. Paul. It's depressing. I'm used to the beautiful Union Station in Portland, made of brick, very well maintained, with clock tower and a large, echoey cavernous lobby. It shall be a treat when I arrive there.

35 hours on the train. Yeah, it's a long time. I leave Sunday night, as I said, and arrive in Portland at 10 in the morning on Tuesday. And I don't have a sleeper—too expensive. So I get to sleep half-reclined in coach. Ah well, the scenery of western Montana makes the whole ride worth it. Eastern Montana, on the other hand, is so dull that a few more hours of it than you get on the train would drive the best of us to desperate suicide. Better not take a razor.

Today I woke up at 13.00, after being up late on my last Friday night here. Dragged myself out of bed, browsed E2 a bit, then found the energy to finally finish my German workbook. I headed over to the Humanities building and turned it in. Bumbled around, ate some dinner.

Then the fun began.

Ahh, packing. Hard not to love it. Seriously. Sure, yeah, it's a big fucking hassle and involves discovering just how much crap fills your closets. But the whole time you feel productive—everything goes in a box or the trash can. The little victories of proper arrangement of books in a box so they fit just right, the marvelous feeling you get when you finish disassembling some shelves and putting all their little parts in a ziploc bag—it's magic!

But then, alas, you have to put the boxes and trunks into storage.

I'm going to live in the German House next year rather than the dorms. It's a real house, and you speak German all the time. It has a real kitchen, and you eat communal meals often. I get a single. It's gonna rock. It's also halfway across campus. And... it has no secure storage. So where do I put it? In the attic of Wallace Hall. Up four flights of stairs. Without an elevator. Damn, was that fun.

Sarah helped me carry my shit into storage, and I helped her carry her shit into storage. Made things a lot easier. Afterwards we headed to the Grille and chatted over onion rings and Coke.

I took a look at the top 100 video web site via VH-1. I think back to the past and personally remember Thriller, Take On Me, and Daddy Don't Preach. I haven't watched many videos since then, and the ones I have enjoyed the most were on Beavis and Butthead.

At the time, I thought Take On Me was great.

Meanwhile, the weekend is here, and I really, really, really should do laundry. My bachelor pad is starting to look like a dump. I am running out of clean clothes rapidly. Its not that difficult to do the laundry, but for some reason I am procrastinating. Maybe if someone would pay me to do my laundry.


I had some sort of wacky dream. Too bad I can't remember a thing about it.


Last night I burned my first CD in a DAO mode. This was because Tetris game music is over 25 minutes long so it was cooler to burn it as several tracks...

Time to face the challenges of the day.


In the ever-continuing series "Spammers Are Morons", I present you this "gem" from Taiwanese IP:

From Sat May 12 19:57:13 2001

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         Fri, 11 May 2001 09:27:09 +0800
To: <>
Subject: 2567335
Date: Fri, 11 May 2001 09:17:35 +0800
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: multipart/alternative;
X-MimeOLE: Produced By Microsoft MimeOLE V5.50.4133.2400
Message-ID: <ECLIENTOpCuJf0MLUq20001623b@eclient.mail>
X-OriginalArrivalTime: 11 May 2001 01:27:09.0376 (UTC)

This is a multi-part message in MIME format.

Content-Type: text/plain;
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit

Content-Type: text/html;
Content-Transfer-Encoding: quoted-printable


"Do not gaze too long into Void, lest the Void shall also look into you."

I can expect all sorts of moronity from spammers, but spamming empty messages is particularly puzzling. I wonder what the heck they were trying to accomplish?


5 spammed messages today and not a SINGLE legit personal E-mail? Depressing. (Fortunately, LARTing these spammers is a good way to channel the depression. =)

I think I'll play some games now.


I played some Black & White and finished the first level of Desperados... (The topic of the next level: "Hang 'm High!") Looks like my Epic Defrag Operation™ I did a few days ago was a Major Waste of Time®.


I want to be loved. Just... that sometimes I'm not sure if I am loved. =(

Other day logs o' mine...

Noded today by y.t.: Shadowgate

It's almost the break of dawn, but I'm still perservering online, trying to keep awake, fighting the urge to sleep. I'm disturbed by recent developments, and recent tribulations. But again, like a coward, I cower into a dark corner and hope that I'm not found.

Last night was great, with myself, MrFurious, Dawadeving and our comrade Mike going bar hopping along Richmond. We had Mike's Hard Lemonades, China Whites, Paralyzers, Vodka and Tequila shots. We celebrated the independence that we found, at least for that night, and toasted to the evils that do not exist but battle everyday of our little lives. It was a great night, one filled with relief from self-pity, self-consciousness, and in some cases, consciouness altogether. But as I said, it's a day that happens too seldomly, and that feels like a crime in itself.

We all slept at my house, with Mike passing out on the smaller couch first. Then MrFurious. Dawadeving wanted to stay up because he wanted to drive home, but at least he waited. I stayed up, feeling that he would leave when he knew that I was asleep. I never did understand that mentality, not wanting to sleep over my house. I guess he's too old for me to control, and finally, he left. I tried to stop him, but he didn't want to listen so I didn't stop him. Don't misunderstand. Its not that I don't care about him as a friend but I can only do so much before I'm out of line. If I wanted to die tomorrow, they can't stop me, and that is a fact of life. But again, it didn't make me feel any better. I woke up about an hour or two after Mike and Dawadeving left, and gave MrFurious a blanket. I slowly dragged myself towards the couch and plopped myself on it. It felt like my legs were jello, filled with anvils inside. When I let my body loose, it felt heavenly, as if an imaginary hand clasping my whole body just released me. I closed my eyes, remembering my right eye was itching beforehand. I fell asleep, and started snoring immediately after.

Apparently MrFurious woke up occasionally beforehand, but I didn't notice and he was nice enough to let me sleep for a while. At 3 pm, I finally woke up from my hibernation and gave him a ride home so he can clean up. I went to Shopper's Drug Mart to go get my package. Infernal Canadian Customs Agency, charging me $9.47 for asian cd's I bought overseas, but they were worth it. Baby V.O.X music video cd and S.E.S. 4: A Letter From Greenland finally arrived. I watched it partly and listened to the cd before I got phone calls from my friends. They wanted to go club hopping but I didn't want to go. I simply wasn't in the mood. Instead of spending my time with some beautiful asian women, I went to play basketball with MrFurious and Mike. I wanted to shoot myself after I came home.

We played, including with another fellow named Ilia. He's MrFurious' friend. He doesn't play very well, more to say, he doesn't know how to play at all. He does illegal picks, hits a lot, and worst of all, touches other men's butts. Not particularly pleasant when you're the receiving end, I suppose. Finally, MrFurious and Ilia left and me and Mike were left on the court. I thought that since we were alone, it was time for me to tell him what has been happening to me. He was shocked but at least it seemed that he was happy that I told him. But again, telling him meant that recollection of hurt feelings and far reaching wants. But he's been my friend for as long as I know so I didn't mind. We left, and headed to Daimaru for some sushi.

We got there for all-you-can-eat but Mike was avoiding some people there. The lady that he likes hurts his feelings so he rather not see her that's all. While part of me thinks that he's too sensitive sometimes, the other part tells me that it's simply what he is and no point trying to change him. Inside, we saw Hyacinth Gurl, eating with her family. We didn't want to bother her so we ate alone. Finally, after stopping by the arcade to play some Strikers and DDR, we dropped off Mike.

My mom called me on the way to Mike's house, telling me that I have to go to a Mother's Day dinner with cousins and stuff tomorrow. While I don't really mind them, I don't want to spend holidays with them. I didn't grow up with them so I have nothing to say. Most of them have a holier than thou mentality, which infuriates me to no end. Besides, it's also my mother's birthday tomorrow, so I rather not show my disdain for my ever so distant blood relatives.

I came home, again, to a dark house, and left alone with my thoughts. My conversation with Mike left me numb, and my dilemma on telling my mother that I want to switch schools is tearing my mind into shreds. I have a migraine as we speak, and even playing Tetrinet and Brood War didn't calm me down as the actions of an inebriated Dawadeving didn't particularly please me in any sense of the word.

I remembered every single word that I said yesterday, even when I was under the influence of alcohol. I'm just that type of drunk, very loud but can be focused when I want to be. Sort of funny, telling Mike that if he can help me get back with my ex-girlfriend that I'll try to hook him up with the girl that he's been yearning for. I knew that I can't deliver on my side of the deal, but I didn't think that he could deliver on his side either. At least I have some sort of hope that someone can help. But him telling me that it would be great for us to get back together simply hardened my heart more, as with a clenched fist, I knew that it wasn't going to happen. I'm a cry baby I suppose, wanting my bottle when I know that I can't get it. But as I said, I know what I want, and knowing that I can't get it, all I can do is have hope. It's what keeps a lot of us alive, whether it's hope that life will be better or that life will end quickly, soon.

Fin.K.L is on my Winamp again, but at least I've expanded my musical playlist to include Baby V.O.X now. I look at the track names and realize how pathetic I am. Shadow. Blue Rain. Betrayal. The Beginning. Is this what I have degraded to? A sniveling former shadow of myself? I guess one always yearns back to the greatest days of one's life, and occasional nostalgia isn't harmful, unless you have taken it to the extreme as I have. I was thinking, as I sat outside my balcony. The night is gone, with the early break of the morning, and I could smell the morning breeze in the air. It's crisp, filling my lungs with renewed life. I didn't want to go back inside. It felt like I belonged out here, to sleep, and not wake up. But then, I knew that in about 4 hours, I would have to head to IKEA and work. I meditated for about 30 minutes, with the harmony of the city sounds and the breeze providing my mind with the soundtrack that it grooved to. But now, I'm inside, here, on the keyboard, letting my mind wander. I'm heading off to bed now, hoping that my self-guilt will allow me to sleep. I don't like the idea that I'm wasting my time, trying to sleep when I know that insomnia has gripped me. Maybe I should take some Nyquil. Maybe I should take some Ativan. Forget it. I'm just closing my eyes and pray for the best.

I kneel on the grass, and feel the spring rain fall on my shoulder. I place my hands down my sides, and I close my eyes. I tilt my head towards the heavens, and feel the raindrops hit my eyelids. I let my tongue out of my mouth to taste the rain, as my nose smells the spring scent on them. I lie down, and cross my arms across my body. Still, with my eyes closed, I feel the world around me. I am at peace, I am still, I am asleep...
I look up out of the LIRR window in Oceanside, two stops away from my destination. Right outside, scratchittied into the wind shelter is FRANK -N- KATE in big letters. Weirder things have happened.

A momentary pause in Long Beach finds me on the boardwalk before heading over to the house. It's low tide, the rumbling rough waves I've grown accustomed to are non-existent, and the water is calmer than I've ever seen it in my life. I'm kinda disappointed actually, as I wanted to do perhaps yet another cleansing. It's soothing, though, in it's own way. Prevents me from getting riled up to begin with...Let it all go, the ocean tells me. Those are the very same words I've been whispering in others' ears when they've vented anger to me as of late. A week at the shop and everyone's opened up to me at least once. My role as the diplomat manifests yet again. Just gotta keep my nose out of the drama this time, though, there's bound to be some as a result of a not-so-minor flirtation with piercer chick. But that's mostly outside of the immediate shop family realm. Anyway, back to the ocean...

I wanted to pay attention to the tides like I never had inspired that, of course, from the beach burn. Much to my amusement, though, they're breaking straight ahead! The only thing that's really unique about it is that they start rolling at opposite ends of the jetty, meeting in the middle for a dramatic disruptive break in the center. So, which way do I sleep this morning, then? :) I wish you were here so we could lay at opposite ends of the couch that awaits me, feet intertwined. Well, disruptive wasn't the word I was looking for, actually. In my mind floats ideas of symmetry and balance primarily. Damn, there goes the optimist again.

Kate's voice speaks to me from the sea. No comprehensible words, just a soothing sound...a hum of her voice in the distance. I wish she was here, too. For once, I'd really like to let her do the talking, and each word that passed between her lips would probably seem more dreamlike than this moment. But she'd be here, red hair waving free in the wind.

The sun has risen higher than the waning moon.
Sleep awaits me.

I hope to dream of you both.


i feel fine enough i guess, considering everything's a mess

thank you, for not being here. it proved to me what i've wondered all along.. there is really only one thing that is important to you. i'm sure you're perfectly aware of what that thing is.. i'll be there for you if you let me, if you need me to be, but not because you deserve it. i'll do it because i am me, and that is how i am. sweet turnning sour, and untouchable

the first night back was hard, you were there, and though i have known all along that you are this to me everything, thank you for cradling my head, and being you. you are one of very few things that remind me i am strong enough for this. i am never alone, thank you.

so, after settling in, and it was a rough tumble'y settle, it's okay. yes. eet is.

This weekend has been a weekend filled with thoughts of simple lifelong love. Thoughts of mundane living, of folding laundry, and playing games, of going to coffee shops, and simply existing with your partner. Stories from my friend only serve to extend the lesson, the lesson that true love is not about kissing. It's not about sex. It's not about roses or candlelight. It's about being 85 years old and not thinking twice that you are holding your lover's hand as you sit on the porch. It is about finding the day so much more pleasant just because they were nearby. It is about rolling over in the middle of the night, kissing their cheek and saying "I love you" as you fall asleep after fourty years together. It is about all the things wuukiee spoke about in "True Love" and so much more.

I have been lazy, stressed out and happy all day. It has been a weird day feelingwise and dull in every other sense. Despite all the things I write below I feel wildly happy and in love. I guess that's what comes from overdose of ammonium chloride candy and seeing a cute boy (beloved darling boyfriend) all day after several days of his absence.

I'm mending my costuming burnout by making simple exotic trousers for myself in a style I have made at least five times before. Well, the burnout needs to end and I cannot stop costuming completely, so it's small steps time this time.

I haven't yet come to terms with my budding E2 addiction. I feel pre-node anxiety and post-writeup panic, fear of symptoms of muchkinism and severe lack of brains in my echoing skull.

The song is right, y'know. Wear sunscreen.

I was through in Edinburgh last night and for most of today with a bunch of friends. It's weird to be in, or at least see all these places that nine9 writes about in his daylogs, and think 'I've read about that place'.

First stop when we get off the bus? Rose Street, and the Rose Street Fry. Their chips are crap, by the way. Next stop, the Standing Order on George Street, where we were due to be meeting a bunch of other people. They hadn't arrived yet, and the girls had driven back to Gill's place to dump our stuff, which left me, Kyle and Roger to find the other people. Kyle was still wearing shorts, and was getting some mighty fine strange looks...

We stayed in that fine establishment till closing time - later in Edinburgh than it is in Glasgow, and then tried for a club on the Cowgate - but Kyle's shorts posed a problem, so we ended up in the Attic instead for a bit of a cheesefest.

Closing time there, and we go to Princes Street to get a night bus. It never turned up, but we did have an interesting time - there were people jumping on the roof of the bus shelter, doing cartwheels in the street, smoking a joint or two - and that was just the people I was with.

There were random drunken people getting hugs off some of the girls, a couple who talked about football and shook our hands a lot, someone who had just been dumped by his fiancee (and required walking to his bus stop), a girl who asked for a light for what appeared to be a large spliff, and a bloke who asked for a few skins and then produced a rather large lump of cannabis.

Just after 4, we realised that the bus wasn't ever going to come, so piled into some taxis instead, but I can't imagine you'd have such entertainment on Glasgow's Union Street...

Today, it was decided that we'd go to the beach, and so we did - in Gullane, sorta near Haddington. It was a fantastic day, not a cloud in the sky, and we did find a nice sheltered spot. In trying to do something about the fact that my legs are too damn pale, I didn't bother with any sunscreen - and now they're nicely burnt. Oww. Bad plan.

Other lessons from today: six people in a Nissan Micra does go, and Gullane Beach is pretty damn nice.
Find it here:

Well my life has been kind of boring lately. However, there have been a few changes:

1. I'm talking to Laurel again. My old best friend. I think we're going to try and work things out but it will be hard because she is still friends with the group that I left. We are both going to college in San Francisco so friendship after high school seems promising. I am really happy about this because I missed her alot.

2. Michelle and I are growing apart. She was my best friend, after Laurel. I don't really like her much anymore, maybe it's because she is hanging out with my ex alot and I'm realizing she's kind of a bitch....

3. I think my and Jesse's relationship has also come to a close. We still have to talk and fix something that is not going away for some reason, and it's not something we can avoid. So until that is over we are still talking. Other than that, I have lost interest in continuing anything with him, although I'm sure we will continue to call each other once and a while when we are bored and need "entertainment".

4. I don't feel like a total burden on my parents for the time being because I just found out that I got a $4000/yr scholarship for every year I go to UC Berkeley, from my dad's work. Yay!

That's it for me. Other than that, nothing. I have no interest in any guys or any sort of relationship. Sorry, boys.

I’m back home again for the summer. I sleeped in a little bit this morning. No more early classes. YEA for that. I woke up and started getting ready to head off to church. Before I left I wished my Mom a happy Mothers day. I gave her a present. It was a nice purple pin in the shape of a heart.

At church this morning the sermon was on “True love waits” Where all the high school students sign a card saying they won’t have sex until they are married. I wondered a lot after church as to just how many stick to that. I signed one when I was 14. And now at 21 I am still a virgin. But I don’t know if I’m a statical outlier or not.

I spent most of the afternoon programming. I’ve been programming a game for about 3 years now. I’ve learned that you do actually use some of the stuff I’ve been learning in my CS classes at school.

Today I have graduated from being a student to being an alumnus of Southern Adventist University!

(Kabo kabo kabo! Yay Muke!)

I got up early, noded a dream (Dream Log: May 13, 2001), robed up, and waited around the tennis court lined up with the rest of the graduates before the program. The guy in charge made a dire announcement that this was our last bathroom break for the next three and a half hours.

(Three and a half hours?)

Pomp and Circumstance started, and we all marched in, under the compound eyes.. er, combined eyes of an average of six people per graduate (we only got about six tickets each) so about 1,800 people were in the gym, not counting us and the faculty and the 50-year alumni.

Anyway, the program started, and they presented awards to teachers. They read out the little teacher biographies directly out of the program, which was a little tacky. They gave an award to one of my least favorite teachers--I won't name him here, but even his little bio (which he probably didn't even write) had an example of his kind of irritatingly circular thinking: it said, roughly, "as Research Professor of Systematic Theology, he is currently working on a systematic theology".

The speaker came up. He said he'd make it short (and I was like: oh, three hours and fifteen minutes)... but he was really serious, it was a very short address. I liked that. The reading of the names and the handing out of the faux diplomas went by quickly with only a couple of mistakes; the dean completely missed out reading Self's name and left the guy standing there, and later he completely stumbled on the complicated surname 'Wasyliuk' instead of barging through it haphazardly like everyone else's.

All in all we were out in two and a half hours, which was pretty good. I had invited twelve friends of mine to a graduation party at my house afterwards, but as it was the end of the year most people had plans to go home (and some had Mother's Day plans) so only two of my friends from school ended up coming: Matt and Jimmy.

But I was happy because my brother Tim was able to make it.

I got a new 1100MHz computer from my mother for graduation. So I got to set that up today, which left me able to mess around with my new digital camera. (My old box didn't have a USB port for it.)

Anyway, I have to start packing my things up. I'm moving out of the dorm tomorrow.

I don't want to leave this place. It's my home, and my friends...
I will always haunt this place.

Today was an extremely frustrating day.

A Very Delicious Mother's Day Brunch

My family celebrated Mother's Day today. It so happens that my Mother has such a disliking for her bilogical mother that we took out my Step-Father's late Father's widowed girlfriend in place of her. She really is a very nice lady.

We went to Lucia's Wine Bar, a very hip and delicious place to eat. Everyhing they had was fantastic. I had a chicken salad that had the most wonderful morel mushrooms. A rare treat indeed.

You are now looking at the highlight of my day, if not the week.

"Doc, it Hurts When I Do That..."

I sprained and/or tore a knee ligament last friday at the after-Japanese-final picnic not but 5 feet away from the head sensei. For once, I really did bruise something more than just my pride.

I felt as though I had been gimping around for far too long now, so I decided to excersize my knee abit in the effort to regain some of my lost flexibility. I did streches, which hurt; tried to work out my gait, which hurt; and rode my excersize bike for fifteen minutes (which really hurt). My life felt like nothing but pain.

Really what kept me going was the fact that I knew I would be sleeping over at my girlfriends house that evening: ah, to be in her had been too long!

No Rules, Just Right!®

Around 4:00pm our family split up and drove seperately to meet my mother's biological mother and the rest of the family at Outback Steakhouse for an early dinner ("to beat the crowd," my mother told me). I have only been able to legally drink for two weeks now and shun this type of usage for alcohol, but I self-medicated myself to make the experience more bearable with an el-cheapo margharita.

No worries, mate; because next up was my girlfriends house!

Girlfriend Mad

I climbed into my vehicle and picked up my phone to call my girl, to let her know I was on the way. I then noticed a voice-mail, and had a sinking feeling. Gee, didn't I tell her I was going to call her at three that afternoon? Whoops!

Yep, precious was angry alright and left an angry message. I called her right away, and she was just fuming in her quiet, intense style of anger that can give me the butterflies. I asked her if she still wanted me to come over and she stayed quiet. I asked her if she was hungry, and if she would like me to take her out to Tanpopo, and she accepted. Vindication, or so I thought.

Her anger really gives me the willies because although she doesn't say angry things, her voice is so cold; and you can just tell that there are angrey thoughts whipping around in her head faster than they ever came out of Dezi Arenez's mouth during any episode of I Love Lucy.

When I picked her up and she came down from her appartment up high, her mood was deplorable. She slouched into the passanger's seat and scowled. To write the cliff-notes: we argued, she said stupid things, I said stupid things.

After I had driven her to the store closed on Sunday to try and return her Korean video taps, and reached the destination resturant she asked me to take her home. About two blocks away I really layed into her and told her I wanted to break up. What a dose of reality for us both.

The last thing I said to her was, "get out of my car."

The E-Mail

What else was I to do but to call to mommy and ask her advice? She naturally sided with me. I know that my girlfriend and I are both assholes, however.

I zoned in front of watching HGTV for far too long, then went down to my room where I found my brother and my thirty-something cousing jamming out Jimi Hendrix. At about 11:30, I got an e-mail from her that almost sounded like an apology but not quite.

I replyied and told her I still had feelings for her but that I could do without her child-like temper. I told her to fix it, which I know realistically she cannot do. If she says no, I already have my name in the personals: so to speak.

At least life as a whole doesn't suck.

'Tis a wild ride.

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