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Time: Sun, 19 Nov 2000 00:20:45 GMT
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My legs hurt. I don't know why. I miss my boyfriend. I'm incredibly horny. Yet I don't know why. I need to have sex. Yet I don't know why. I need to feel another man naked, and yet I do not know why.

Today is a reasonably good day. After spending the whole of yesterday on the sofa, being laid-upon my Molly the Maltese Terrier, I feel much refreshed. Gemma has been working at her office all day, so I've done the shopping for the week, supermarket and market.

Gemma's workmate, Nathan, is still being verbally abusive. I had thoughts of walking into their office and punching him in the face. Thought better of it, as it was obviously only a primitive reaction (I'm the least likely person etc etc). Instead I have designed a fiendish legal strategy to protect Gemma's interests when she inevitably leaves the firm.

A new Star Trek video to watch this pm, cool.

Off to Sydney again tomorrow for another three days of weirdness. My days at the company are numbered, and counting down.

In other news today, simonc seems to be getting his e2 mojo back...

On Friday afternoon I get a call from one of my best friends, Jon. We went to high school together and grew up in the same hometown. My roommate answers the phone and asks me, "Have you talked to Lisa lately?"


A pause, and then my roommate says "Oh my God!" and looks at me.

My first thought was that something had happened to Lisa, another one of my good friends from high school.

"What happened?"

Her sister had committed suicide. Jon was going home to go the funeral with her, and wanted to know if I wanted to come to. I did, so we headed out for our hometown.

The funeral was today. It was awful. I haven't been to a funeral since my dad died. I thought that I wouldn't cry because I didn't know Lisa's sister, I'd met her once. I was there for moral support. But I heard other people cry and started crying too. Then it just reminded me of when my dad had his funeral. So I was bawling.

I hate funerals. Even if it's someone I don't know I end up crying because of the pain of the others around me.

A free weekend at home? Impossible! But I guess it isn’t, cause here I am.

I went to see a movie today with Bobby, a good friend I met in FST last year. He chose Bounce, which I was reluctant to agree to, but finally gave in. It wasn’t half bad. I actually enjoyed watching Ben Afleck in various states of undress, but that’s to be expected.

Bobby and I stopped by the mall, where were went to Famous Footwear to see what Erica was up to. She was tied up for the time being, so we shopped for leather coats and watched the same group of kids walk past several times. The roads were terrible. We started fishtailing while driving down James, and if we had gone into a ditch, Bobby’s little turquoise Honda wouldn’t have been able to make it back out. Thankfully we made it home.

I also cleaned the house a bit, which is highly unusual. I found things I had forgotten I’d lost. Among the recovered items were:

  • my turtle fur striped hat from Old Navy, which has been my trusty companion since ninth grade marching band season;
  • my Anatomy textbook that had turned up missing earlier this semester;
  • several earrings I had dismissed as permanently gone were somehow preserved under my alarm clock, good as new;
  • my photo album from Europe had been hiding under my underused desk for the past five months;
  • and finally, my favorite roll of toilet paper was found under my bed and with many suspicious teeth marks leading me to believe my cat was responsible for its disappearance. Damn felines.

Overall, quite the productive resting period.

Third day of watching over my thirteen year old brother in my parents' absence. Somehow I got him to help me with the ever growing pile of dishes and abscess; it sucks I can't go anywhere. Auburn won the Iron Bowl by quite a score, first time they had won in years - War Eagle!
Later on I put my ugly mug on amihotornot.com ... even though I completely disagree with the concept of having your worth determined by a horde of strangers; I can see this sort of thing seriously devaluating some people's self-image. I'm a seven now, if you want to pass judgment, it's at http://www.amihotornot.com/r/?eid=RREUH&key=QLSFW.
At eight we left to get eight orders of sushi and watched the Patriot. Decent movie, although the plot is largely structured after Gladiator, with the lead character building up and eventually releasing a massive hate against the lead villain. I'll be productive tomorrow.
Jeez. (dont confuse with jizz). what a truly horrible year this has been. just like from that intro song on Friends. Haven't been your day, your week, or even a year. I think most people go through this back in highschool or something. bleh, puberty. Nothing out of ordinary i might add. girls, school, work, etc etc.> it's true. When a hobby changes into something eeeeeeeeeevil - work it sucks. suddenly there are a lot of details that you really dont care for. co-workers to talk to. boss! work-day. on the plus side - money. but still it's work. then there's school. all my friends are there - and im fuckin' workin full-time - 60 hour weeks no less. plus the fact that i got kicked out. i mean i'm not dumb!. I'm just an epitome of lazyness. (weeee i learned a new word! epitome.) anyhow ill be back there in a few months. mean-while my coworkers are all thirty-ish..im nineteen. plus very immature. lovely aint it ? why am i even writing it here? hopefully i can laugh when lookin' back at this. don't wanna whine at my friends. they truly are great people for puttin up with me. but they got problems too. (heh dont' we all).fucking bills. my salary is great. never for the life of me could i imagine that i would be earned this much. quite frankly, i sometimes doubt that im worth that much. but i like it. so i'm not going to tell them to lower it. unfortunately me being the responsible asshole i must work it off. on the other hand im a contractor - so every minute is paid for. heh. i've been spending too much money lately. i've only saved about 30% of my income. Shitty. girls...girls..heh. fuckin' relationships. why can't it be - "girl. you're pretty. you're smart. you turn me on. i wanna hug you, and i wanna fuck you. why dont we be together untill it runs out for one of us"? no bullshit. no pretending. just truth. be blunt. why not? dont say the "forever" bullshit. nothing is forever. don't expect much. let everything extra be a pleasant suprise. be true to your promises. dont play around. bah..it's never like that is it? it always has to be half truths and someone getting hurt. someone always crying, and someone always beeing depressed. Someone always havin to deal, and someone always trying to forget. Hey, i've made a mistake. i admited it! yes, i'm fucked up! i know! but tell me what you want! i dont understand! You giving me mixed signals. I've never been too bright in this regard. bah. jesus. why the fuck am i doing this? why i am here? why are we all here?

bool Alive = true; while(Alive) { breath-in(); breath-out(); }

dont press esc in text box it's scary. blah. maybe i just need to booze again. sigh. heh.

/me shakes like a wet dog. let the water fly off. what did i do today? eh..today was a good day. i woke up at 4pm. leetness! really. 12 hours of sleep is mighty good. then i played homeworld for a bit. what a cool game. leet. i can prolly play for a long time. hour a day, for a few months. then i played tanarus. another game that kicks ass. i think i've been gaining score too much in the newbie arenas so i was forced to play in open. got roasted by pros so many times that my kill/death ratio droped to just above 1.5..then i tried to create a tape ( yes a tape!! i dont want a cdplayer coz i want an mp3 one but waitin for something cheap!) but the fuckin tape recorder died or something. then me and byron and mike went to UBC to study in Koerner. we got there at approximately 9.20. Considering that it closes at 11 we didn't have much time. Then Trish and Zig called byron again. I of course didn't know it (i thought i was talkin to trish only) and said few things on the phone that i perhaps shouldn't have said ...im depressed...im pissed..and ill be fuckin damned if i let you mess me up any more! ...then sab called my cell so i had to talk to her for half an hour. eventually around 10 i got to studying. never fail your courses. once you understand how simple that stuff is, it just makes you feel even stupider. around 11 library staff kicked us out. we went to play ddr. byron is crazy. hehe if alana is a dancing queen, byron is the king. i gave mike a ride back to New Westminster. He was riding shotgun and pretending to give me a blow job when we were beside a cab. So embarassing. People inside were laughing at us, and then slowed down. hehe. Before we got to new west we stopped at Subway. I love sandwiches with extra onions. stinks as hell but fun. the guy behind the counter had a curious accent. i asked him where he was from - apparently quebec. that made me think about melodrame right away. he's from around there somewhere too. on the way back me and byron listened to n'sync. i have become everything that i loathed. hehe. anyhow then - is now. and im getting out of here.


Helloooooo! Guess who woke up slightly late today! Well, fortunately it's Sunday... =)


At least I slept sort of well... =)

Time to go for Usenet and such. I guess.

16:30: To cinema, I hope...

Last night I had another great idea: Strategic Staller. Old joke for new technology... =)


- Headache -


Well, I k'n plai tis geim tu...


...big words from Yet Another Stoooopid Ugly Geek (Didn't want to waste film so that's a bad-quality video grab... =)

(I'd not be surprised if I'd actually get that fatal 1 rating honestly, without someone voting for it many times... =)

You're probably more interested of this one (OK, old news, but still):




Didn't went to cinema after all - I went to meet people and watched Air Force One there... =)

Meanwhile, my cellphone's batteries have run out.

It was depleting its batteries after 19:45 or so, and when I come back just a bit before 01:00, it has run out of steam.

Something is not right with the batteries, I guess, if the technical specs say it should stay 60-170 hours idle before batteries run out... =)

Other day logs o' mine...

Noded today by y.t.: pull hand

Updated: Nodes about Finnish language

Another day, another depressing day. I know most of you rather read more POSITIVE day logs, but honestly I have nothing positive to say. The jist of my day: mall, home, drunk, now suffering from major migrane. Maybe it's the sleep deprivation that I've been suffering for the last 3 years. I'm 15, people tell me I should be having fun, I'm too mature for my age. Well *NEWS FLASH!* this is the way I am so LIVE WITH IT!!! Although I do agree I SHOULD be having a lot more fun than I am now but that's life rite???

Life hates me and I'm trying to accept that. But after today I finally realized why people go through suicide (not like I've never realized it before, and not like I'm actually going to go through with it) My health is bad, got heart problems, I'm having anorexic symptoms and people can't stop giving me crap about things that aren't even my goddamn fault!!

So far all my relationships have been BAD, talk bout unrequited love. (and dont' even think about doubting my ability to know what love is when im only 15) Going to school, a school I'm not suppsoed to be going to, feel like friends are leaving me one by one and eventually I'm going to end up alone. NOW is a time to wonder what is really wrong with me. If anyone has any ideas pls tell me

Now back to much more positive people...

back | days | forth

Message Centre

I sit here, surrounded by rain and half finished chores, fielding ICQ messages from ex-colleagues who seem far too happy and upbeat for such a dreary sunday afternoon. They quiz me on my engagement, ask to see my fiancee, but then suddenly have something else to do when I ask to arrange a dinner, or a party. What the hell will we do at new years? I would suggest a London noder's gathering, but I suspect everyone will have something else to do.

Why that reaction?

My mother had her old school recipe book in her kitchen. I idly asked how old it was, but I was cut off in mid-sentence by her hissing at me to shut up. Surely my stepdad knows how old she is? Surely the fact that she has a 26 year old son has clued him into the possibility that she is older than him (he is 35ish). What is her problem with her age? I would understand if she were at work, but she's at home. I hate the way she is quite prepared to deny she has an older son to lie about her age. Am I that unimportant to her?

I am also somewhat enraged by the way my Mother and Stepfather are amused at my engagement; my Mum still calls katyana "Anthony's friend" in conversation. It's as though she hasn't moved on from the times I would have a little girlfriend when I was 8 and 9. I realise that parents will always view their children, as, well, children, but to call my fiancee my "friend" makes it sound as though this is some passing thing. It's not. This makes me want to shout in my mother's face and tell her that I intend to spend the rest of my life with this girl, and that she had better get used to the idea.

But, of course, that would be immature.

Well ... Another sunday, I have just come back from the bar after working. I got a little drunk last night. I had a pint of cider, a shot of 'the all black' and a cocktail with vodka, rum, tequila and kahlua in it. Which was nice. the cat then attacked me three times. having bitten me twice and clawed me once, I threw it off the bed and went to sleep in the spinning room.
I haven't got a hangover fortunately, but im getting paranoid because a light is behind me and its casting my shadows down onto the keyboard, and I keep thinking there is someone behind me.
At the bar I spoke to my sister about my 'relationship' with nine9. She took it remarkably well, she said how 'it is ok to experiment and explore'. Which is very good. I thought she would be rather shocked or be very questioning. Oh well ... Im off to wait for nine9 to come online, although he is very busy. I dont want to stop him from working. Ill write a letter to him and send the one I have already written to dizzy.
Today was the day I read Al Gore called the situation in Florida "Kafkaesque" - and despite the fact I think Gore has been acting like a dork, I would much prefer having a President who knows who Kafka is. Dubya most likely thinks Franz Kafka is the dictator of some obscure Balkan country we need to bomb.

Today in Tampa the air is still wet but there's a nice breeze and even though it's a bit warm I've opened all the windows in the house.

I've been on pager duty this weekend with all the attendant anxiety. The sick feeling in the stomach knowing this thing can go off at any moment and suck my Sunday away with it.

These are the times I feel furthest away from God. My consciousness gets filled up with worry about useless things and I end up feeling trapped and hating myself. Of course I couldn't go to mass this morning because of the pager.

Even worse, I'm smoking again - and when my wife and daughters leave the house I go out to the shed like a silly adolescent. I must look like the piano player in Reefer Madness when he shut himself in the closet for a fix.

Curled up tight pressed close we laid, every second counting. 
During the last few moments of any death there seems to come a feeling which I have seen before: the approach of the thing itself. Suddenly it fills the room, and it's so huge and enveloping that there is simply no room for anything else but acceptance. Both you and the one leaving become quiet and calm: time is suspended.
I wanted to stay there. I wanted the world to stop.
But it didn't.

And now I have crossed the bar, and I am somewhere else, a traveller in a strange country, a kind of parallel world where everything is familiar and yet altered. I move slowly in it like a blind person, feeling my way oh so carefully, trying to avoid sharp painful corners but sometimes I walk smack into them and stand there stunned, temporarily mindless. My eyes, my nose and lips are red, the colour of caution. These loved ones circle around me, taking heed of the warning, cautiously gentle and concerned, hesitant to approach. For which I am grateful. We talked late into the night of other things, instinctively staying together. Now we have resumed our separate occupations. We are floating around in separate bubbles, sometimes linked and still, sometimes drifting away. We are changed: but I do not yet know how we are changed.

16:36 GMT

My body has decided that due to yesterday's workout, that it's going to lay down a few laws, which, when broken are punishable by extreme pain and suffering.

  • Getting out of bed in any way will be punished by at least two sources of significant pain.
  • Arms may not be used to push myself out of a chair
  • Putting on, or readjusting my glasses is punishable by an extremely sharp pain to the triceps.
  • No reaching anywhere above 90 degrees
The jury in this case is merciless. I'm guilty without hope of being proven innocent. This really sucks. And I only learn new laws by breaking them.

It looks like I won't be doing much today. I'll probably just be wandering the apartment looking like a hunchback, with my arms dangled at the sides.

This has to be the pinnacle reason why there are so many crappy alternatives to losing weight. I'm sticking with this though. All of those other scams are all substitutes for the real thing (excercise), and I want to do this the right way. If I still have this attitude after all of this pain, I think the outlook is pretty good.

I wonder if I should go try to watch a movie again today. If I go over there now, the lines should be a lot shorter. Just looked and there's one starting in a half hour. I think I'll go do that to distract myself from sore muscles for a while.

19:14 GMT

I just got back from watching Charlie's Angels. It was great. The movie was better than I was expecting, since I figured that they would cut back on plot since there was so much eye candy. But the story had some nice twists that I wasn't expecting. The girls were great. I really liked the fighting sequences. I was suprised when I saw Tom Green in it (especially as Drew Barrymore's character's boyfriend).

Oh well, I'm going to go have lunch and find something else to do.

01:48 GMT

I went down to Fort Lauderdale beach for a few hours, walked up and down the main area, and sat and enjoyed some live music from Atlantis. There are a lot of people that go down there to get their excercise by the beach. I guess it's a pretty nice area. I saw a lot of people getting some aerobic excercise on rollerblades.

I notice how you never see anyone on roller skates anymore. I guess they are old fashioned now compared to rollerblades, but aren't rollerblades a bit harder on the ankles since they can lean to the sides? I thought about trying out some rollerblades once, but I have a persistently bad left ankle, and I'll probably mess it up even worse if I do anything weird with it.

After that I took the long way back home, with the windows down, enjoying the cooler weather. I wish it was this way all year around. I suppose Florida would be even more crowded though if we didn't have the hot season to scare half the people away.

I seen a lot of people in pairs. I need a girlfriend. It sucks to do this kind of stuff without someone to share the experience with.

06:01 GMT

There goes my nightly window wash to remind me to go to bed. About two weeks ago, for some reason, the lawn sprinkler right outside my window got redirected so now every night at 1am I get a waterfall on my window. This is especially impressive because I am in a second floor apartment. This is about the time of night when I need to go to bed anyway, so I will use this as a signal to stop what I'm doing (which on an average night, I'm probably browsing through pictures on alt.binaries.pictures.bluebird.reposts), and go to sleep.

I just spent at least two hours trying to think of a good nick to use if/when I start to get back on IRC again (trying to find something social to do). I figured I should also think of something I can use as a userid for websites that need registrations. So this means that I should choose something that is exactly 8 characters in length, because some sites want at least that many characters, and other sites will not accept more than that many characters.

My sore muscles are freakin' killing me now. I am certianly going to have trouble sleeping. But I'm going to try now.

On the way to school today, I was listening 99.1 JAMS playing gospel music. It sort of makes a mockery of what they usually play. The music selection goes from booty music and hip hop, with lyrics like: "WHOOP, WHOOP! PULL OVER THAT ASS IS TOO FAT!", "WHO LET THE DOGS OUT?", and "SHAKE THAT THING..WATCH YOURSELF..SHAKE THAT THING, SHOW ME WHAT YOUR WORKING WITH" during the week to talented choirs singing "I've got a little light, I'm gonna let it shine" on Sunday mornings.

Now even though I am not religious, I love gospel music. It's uplifting. But what's the point of playing religious music on Sunday while the rest of the week you play songs about sex, booty and thongs?

i've been keeping very strange hours lately; thanks to my twin loves of women and computers:

  • one: friday night, went over to future-roommate's apartment, drank, and watched a movie. came back, mildly buzzed, and stayed up until 5am code crunching.
  • two: saturday day, spend hours from noon till 3 coding, then from 4 till 7, then from 830 till 10pm. thiiiiiis close to being finished.
  • three: saturday night, go out bar crawling with the new smooching partner; we end up getting back at 430am, and then staying up playing until 6am.
  • four: after going to bed at 6am and not falling asleep till 645am, i wake up at 11am in order to head to work at 12pm.
  • five: an hour into work, get the program finished. rapturous happiness at being finished with school for the next couple weeks.
is this healthy??
I am at peace with this. I am saddened, and these are dark days but short ones. Maybe there will be another time, and maybe there will not. But I accept this.

I crawl away to let a too-eager heart fall asleep and regain its strength.

I never got it till now, now when I am once again one face of many, if not quite one girl in billions in billions. I got a little closer than that. I take some time. I fall away.

I heal and I love. Loving is good, no matter what happens.

I think I'm going to miss him, if not as much as I do now.

Comfort comes when you need it, and you are surprised by where it comes from. But it comes. It does. No one is alone.
What a day!

We actually went to a Packer game today, which was quite the treat. I don't really care about football, but the University of Wisconsin marching band played during halftime and after the game. They're pretty good. Too bad I'm going to Northwestern University.

After we got home from the game in a record-breaking five minutes, I took a hot bath and watched some television. I also started some work on my new mythology site (msg me if you would like to critique it) and updated my internet journal.

Oh, I did the dumbest thing this weekend... I left my backpack at school. I don't know how I managed to do that, but I'm not expecting my grade slouch to get any better as a result.

Anyway, I've been noded out for one night... Maybe I'll do some more tomorrow.

When I went to bed at 10 last night, I set the alarm for 7, but I wake at 4AM and I can't get back to sleep. This is not so bad... All week I've been cycling on 28-hour days, to get back to waking in the day and sleeping at night. I broke down and set up a Napster account Friday evening, here's a good time to hunt down a few songs (Patches, Wildfire, Frankie Valli's Rag Doll, and Hang On, Sloopy). In spite of a couple strong cups of coffee at 8, I'm feeling enervated and spacey by 10; I lay down for a nap but wake within an hour. Cut my hair, gas up the car, and head to Dave's in Somerset for the first session of Charles' AD&D 3E game at 2. Dave has acquired two adorable, friendly young she-cats, Ganymede and Eris.
L.A.I.R.E. gossip and footy-smelling honey mead flow freely while players put the finishing touches on their respective characters. The premise: the main characters are recent graduates of the medieval fantasy equivalent of Police Academy. The scenario: Three investigator/enforcer characters are joined by three local goons... er, deputies, to quell a Hatfield/McCoy-style feud. (Our illustrious DM doesn't bother to rename the families; we refer to them as Hatfields and McCoys throughout the session.) When the party arrives on the scene, some dozen McCoys are gathered outside the Hatfield farmstead, throwing rocks, waving pointy farm implements, preparing to torch the place. The action: My character puts down the McCoy ringleaders with a Sleep spell, while the deputies impulsively charge the Hatfield home. These PC's slaughter several Hatfields in the course of "subdual", including a 10-year-old child. Hardly heroic; I'm less than impressed with the "deputy" players' performance. The aftermath: The elder Hatfield has a property deed and map, showing a 50-yard buffer between the two families' property. There is also a threatening letter, apparently from a McCoy elder to the Hatfields, which seems to be a forgery. It's no great stretch of the imagination to figure some third party, presumably the unidentified owner of the buffer property, has manipulated the feud. During a smoke break with the DM, he notes that the Hatfields would have been open to parley once the McCoys were calmed... if three heavily-armed and armored yahoos hadn't gone postal and stormed their home.

Anyway, Sunday was fucking weird. I got up whenever, acted out my subconscious violent fantasies on the playstation for a while, then phoned Pete because I wanted someone to smoke pot with and had a vague inkling that he'd be keen. Deliberate understatement is a subtle form of sarcasm. Scootered over to 156 Beaumont in a mist of rain, stopping on the way to buy the ISO 9000 Standard Munchies Remedy (one strawberry milk, one chocolate bar) and walked in to find him watching cricket with a ton of Voyager videos stacked on the floor. He doesn't like cricket, so we watched it for ages. He's got a new stereo, it's very stylish; just a minimalist box with little cubish speakers that look wimpier than they sound, and a transparent remote control. He was listening to Bowie. He told me Shaun rang him from the US earlier that day.

I chopped and rolled and licked and stuck and we smoked it. I, of course, transformed into my probably dull potself, fully believing that I was stringing impressive words together more fluidly and lucidly than any man alive, and probably confusing or boring Pete along the way. We talked shit for a while, then played Bond and Mario Kart Battle.

Matt rang to say that he'd be at Hamilton station soonish to see Kate off, did I want to come? (Kate was catching a bus up north, she's working at Hamilton Island for a while before going back to England.) Scooting along the wrong side of Beaumont, I see PC (affectionate name for Emma's car, adopted from its numberplate) coming towards me: Matt pulls over and I jump in to hear that the station was empty of both buses and passengers and Kate. We drive to Broadmeadow station, ditto. With minutes left, we head up to Newcastle station, just in time to see the coach pull off with Kate and Amanda in the frontmost seat. Fuck. We'd sort of promised we'd say goodbye, and were just seconds too late.

Apparently both the girls are accustomed to riding in a bus while a crazy dickhead hangs out the passenger window of the car in front of them waving like a frantic shark victim, because it's the best part of an hour before they notice me. (I didn't say it was nearly a whole hour, but it was the best part of that hour.) Eventually they start waving back and blowing kisses, just before Matt's skills at tailing a vehicle from a position in front of it fail him, and the bus makes an unexpected turn behind us. Cars go faster than buses though, so for the next twenty minutes we went on a crazy journey where we intercepted the bus several times and attempted stupid pseudo-mime communication through the window at the girls. Down Maitland Rd Matt matched speed with the bus and sat just to the left of it for a minute or two. I saw a Jaguar parked at the kerb flash by millimetres from the passenger window; Matt was like a cat whose whiskers are singed off, so that thereafter he can't accurately judge which narrow gaps he can safely squeeze through.

Went home, had a bath, played more Quake on the PSX, got pissed off with it and put High Fidelity in the VCR. One of the things I love most about that movie is how very accurately it captures the essence of what nerds are like; those guys who work with John Cusack in the shop are carbon copies of every computer geek I've ever met, except they're obsessed with music instead. When John Cusack asks Dick how his weekend was, and Dick immediately starts talking about the obscure vinyl he managed to track down, it sounded exactly like Monday morning in the office when the nerds recount their weekend adventures of video card reconfiguration or operating system performance tuning.

Mel got home, we went to get videos and food, and through the miracle of commercial radio (I think she secretly listens to it all the time while driving alone) heard that tickets to Jebediah and Magic Dirt were, surprisingly, still available at the door. So we went to Fanny's and drank and sang the wrong words loudly and jumped up and down on the spot and others' toes. It was only when the encore finished that I realised how sweaty and breathless I was. ALTERNATIVE MUSIC REDUCES HEART DISEASE.

Mel slept soon after we arrived home. I sat up with Matt and smoked another joint and somehow got into an hour-long argument about the definitions of simple words like "no" and "everything" and "anything" and "and" and "or". It all started when I quoted Moe Szyslak: "Old people are no good at everything". Now, my interpretation of that sentence is this: "no good at everything" is grammatically incorrect, because "everything" is a plural whereas "no good at..." should pertain to a singular. But colloquially, "no good" can just mean "bad"; so given the singular-plural mixup, we're forced to interpret the sentence as "old people are bad at everything". This is different to saying "old people are no good at anything", which just means that there's nothing they're good at, but not necessarily that they're _bad_ at everything. What do you think? Do the sentences "I am no good at anything" and "I am no good at everything" mean slightly different things? Matt thinks they don't. But then, he ain't no good at nothing.

A friend of mine said tonight that this had been the most interesting november on record for her, and when I stopped to think about it I realized it was for me too. I have been part of two mini noders get-togethers, seen two great concerts, participated in some amazing new friendships, fell in love, realized it wasn't meant to be, and bought a fouton couch. tonight I got to hang out with Diane, illumina and Laura who flew in from Hollywood. We went and saw the dar williams concert tonight (it was excellent and it turns out they were taping it for a live CD). The rest of the month looks just as promising. janis flies in tomorrow, and I will spend all day Tuesday with her and then go to meet my dad at the airport in the evening. He will stay with me for a week and join me for Thanksgiving Dinner with Randir and Dis and Chris, and assorted people I don't know (cahla and Diane both said they may drop by too).

I may not have a job at the moment, but I have an amazing life filled with wonderful friends that I am thankful for every single day.

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