I have just woken up, and I already know that it is going to be a lovely day. There is one reason that I am sure of this: I slept past 7:00 AM.
See, there is this space between my blind and the edge of my window, and every single morning, I am awoken by a sliver of light shining directly on my pillow. Once this light wakes me up, I have no way of getting back to sleep, because wherever I move on my bed, the little sliver of light follows me.
But it didn't this morning, which was quite wonderful, so I am feeling good. The sun is shining outside, the leaves are green, my brother is still asleep, my house is clean (I cleaned it yesterday), and I am enjoying yogurt and granola which is my idea of complete happiness. So I don't know yet what the day holds, but I am quite sure that it will be good.

Picnic? Walk in the woods? Chalk in the driveway? Ahh ....

My day went fine up until the evening.

Everyone was going to my aunts house for dinner so I decided to go as well. My parents showed up here and picked me up. Everything was fine up until around the time to leave. I asked my father to allow me to use his monitor so that I could work on some stuff for school. His response was a grunt and then he said, " Well then you come over to the house and do it there." I told him I had to work on laundry so that I'd have some clothes to wear come Saturday. He looked at me and started raiseing his voice at me saying that I should worry more about my family than going out. I told him that i needed the monitor and he proceeded babbling on with the same thing. I turned around and walked out.

As i walked out he said something to me that made everyone laugh and embarrased the shit out of me, " You little queer im glad your not living with me anymore." I turned around, looked at him and just walked out. My aunt heard from the window what had happened and just told me to get my stuff and get into the truck. I did as she said and we left. I got back and got online for a bit and then got off. I felt so bad I didn't know what to do. I took a shower and started crying .

I can't handle it anymore

What does he want from me? What does anybody want from me? Everyone expects me to make them happy. What about me. WHen am I supposed to be happy? Why won't somebody come along and make me happy for once.

I havent been truly happy for a while. Seems like the only time I'm happy is when I'm alone on my roof looking at the stars.

What does everybody want of me?

The Day Everything Went Wrong
(except the bits that didn't)

I guess you could say the day began half an hour before Angel ended. By the clock that is entirely accurate, but by the Things Going Wrongness Scale, it's a little off. At least an hour off.

Angel over, we cuddled and smooched, and... didn't drift easily into loving as we usually do, no matter how late it is.
The sex went wrong, from the start. Nothing felt right, and when I said "You feel funny" he said it was I who felt funny and that I shouldn't try to blame it on him. And then it didn't work anyway. 

That always, always makes me feel just dreadful, which makes him feel dreadful, too. So there we were, wrapped in one another's arms, feeling crappy. At four we drifted into sleep.

And then at seven, my alarm clock went off, as it is supposed to do. And I got up, got my Littles up, fed, and off to school. My lover and I had a lovely day planned. We're going to buy me a new bed. Today was for wandering around shops, seeing what we like, and what I can afford, and for going into Minotaur in the city and choosing a 21st Birthday present for Adam.

It Was Not To Be.

Before ten, there was a telephone call. My mother went very silent, and I knew something was wrong. My father wanted to meet with her, to discuss my brother's superannuation. To me, this signified that my father needed to discuss some aspect of my brother's superannuation with my mother. To my mother, however it meant my father had some dreadful hidden agenda and that her life-as-she-knows-it was about to come to a hideous and screeching halt.

She shook. She lost all colour from her face. She didn't throw up, or burst into tears, but it was a very near thing.

At ten, I woke my lover with cuddles and told him I would have to be at home at 2, when my father arrived. He... didn't get mad. It was lovely. He almost never gets mad, and even less often with me, but somehow, whenever I tell anyone anything that will disconvenience them, I expect sulks and rages. He's wonderful the way he accepts things, even things which blow goats.

So I took my mother to the house she was going to and which, thank glod, she couldn't avoid going to this morning. I came back, had a 10 minute cuddle with my lover, then sent him to shower while I dashed around doing some dishes and last minute cleaning up before The Terrible Scary Person My Mother Used To Be Married To arrived.

We went out to my lover's car, ready to go to get the 21st present. Somehow, overnight, some lovely little ants had decided to make the car their new home. The console and dash were covered in tiny little biting formic-acid smelling creatures. We sprayed them to death, and kept the spray with us for the journey.

Usually, when bad things have happened around or even to us, we manage to keep a light demeanour. But not today. In the car, I felt like crying. We both started little bits of conversations, which dried up within two exchanges. The radio was playing really bad songs, no matter what station, and by the time we'd driven the 45 or so minutes to the city, we were both feeling decidedly crummy.

There was nowhere to park. We drove around for 20 minutes. No empty spaces on the street, all the paying Car Parks with big "Sorry, we're full" signs up. At one point, he asked me "which way, do you think?" at a T-intersection, and when my random choice turned out to also be empty of spaces, he grumbled "Thanks, Love" at me. Usually, I would giggle at that... Today I almost burst into tears.

Finally we found a paying car park with no "Sorry, we're full" sign, and went in. We drove up eight floors until we found a place, and then set out to the book, comic and video shop.

The comics we wanted were out of stock. There were no suitable posters for me to get framed tomorrow morning. So we decided on a subscription to Unreal X Men and Unreal Spiderman, for a year each. The price in the issue we bought was copeable with, and we were satisfied. But once my lover was at home and calm, he reread the subscription information... and it's far too much for us to manage after all.

Minotaur is a shop one could happily spend several hours wandering in. Picking up this book, browsing through the out of print comics they sell, leafing through the artists' folios.... and spending far too much money.
But today, because I had to be home to hold my mother's hand when the Scary Monster arrived, we had to hurry home. The traffic sucked. Well, probably it didn't, really... but the way we were both feeling by then, there should have been upside down semitrailers across every road we wanted to go along.

We got back to Croydon, after 3 calls to my mobile from my more and more distraught mother, and one from his, asking (unwisely) if we'd had a nice day... I'm afraid I explained to her in some detail that we had not... We pulled up in a no standing zone and mum got into the car...slowly.

We came home, accompanied by the sound of my mother's terrified, nauseated panting, and then my lover left. My mother and I sat on the step to her sitting room and waited. It was probably only ten minutes, but with her on the brink of tears, and my walking the line between soothing and seeming heartless, I was almost panicking myself when he arrived.

He was bluff, and large, and polite, as he has always been.

He touched my back as we walked together down the driveway.

I think perhaps he misses me the way I miss him. Not a sharp pain for something that was, but a dull ache of sadness for all that could have been, but is not.

My brother had an insurance policy on his life. One that the mode of his death did not invalidate. My father came to tell my mother that she is the beneficiary of half the policy's payout.

Not to scream at her, or to hit her, or for any harmful thing.

We were polite.
All of us.

And then he went home - He left one minute before my children came home. His grandchildren one of whom he has a single glance at, in the week after his birth.

I think he left then so he would not have to meet them. To avoid complicating his life with two new relationships.

And now I'm tired.

After he'd gone my mother said "He was so nice. he was so kind. He doesn't have a hidden agenda after all."

I hope she remembers that next time he wishes to speak to her

So yesterday I saw her again.

Mainly because I'm still the same idiot that saw her last week. She kisses me on the cheek when we meet, hugs me, hugs me while we're talking, kisses me and hugs me when we part. I'm not reading anything into this, trust me. Hell, I'm quite a tactile person myself. I'm just saying - does she realise what she's doing to me? I sound so fscking melodramatic don't I?

She's still as gorgeous as ever, and since today we went for coffee rather than clubbing we got to talk a lot more. I'm still totally aware of the fact that it's not going to happen. I'm really trying to remove all vestiges of hope. I know she doesn't fancy me. Simple.

Just the character of some of her phrases made it clear that she isn't head over heels with her current boyfriend, but she is having fun and seeing how it goes. This is, in theory, not the type of girl for me anyway. Unless I feel something for someone quite quickly I'm usually outta there. This is probably my first mistake. I should relax a little :) The whole reason we broke up in the first place was because I was rushing. Oh yeah, and the doormat thing, see below.

When we parted she said she had had a really good time, and that we should get together again soon because she has fun with me. I was obviously looking wistful because after a few seconds she added that I shouldn't be so down on myself and that people enjoy my company. I know people enjoy my company! They don't call me Mr. Scintillating for nothing :) I just didn't realise she enjoyed it to the extent of actually mentioning it, and I was just looking pissed because I was wondering why she couldn't fancy me and make everything perfect. A couple of things still piss me off about the whole deal though - firstly that I still feel slightly used from the first time. There is no logical basis for this I might add, but it's partly to do with her current boyfriend (who shares my name, natch) who she has integrated fairly fast. Secondly it is just that I was such an idiot when we did go out, being a walkovery doormat. Which is not what I'm like normally at all, and is undoubtedly why she didn't/doesn't fancy me. So I can't help but feel we could still be going out. Bah. Enough self-pity for the next 6 months there I think. That's about when I'll see her again. Stay tuned.

Today is also (though only just) the 26th April. But you knew that... It just reminds me that my Individual Project - the interaction model for an MMORPG - is due in 36 hours. This is very very very bad. I'm asking for an extension. If it's refused I guess I automatically fail the year. This is bad. I'm supposed to graduate rather soon. I guess I should have been working rather than gallivanting with her, right? Damn.

Theme for the day (in every sense): Hit or Miss by New Found Glory

Why do people daylog more when: they have problems and/or they should be doing something else (revision)? Not too tricky a question I suppose.
It's just starting to sink in now. Earlier today, I felt quite casual about it, cavalier, maybe even slightly combative. But now I wash my face in the sink and watch water drain from my hair and try and let my mind blank but I can't. I'm just beginning to wrap my brain around the idea - "I've been laid off."

I knew it was coming, I'd been expecting it for about a year; but when the nuclear clock hangs at one second to midnight and shaky hands are on the Buttons of Absolute Screaming Doom 24/7/365, well, you get used to it. And you can't help but feel disappointed, a little hurt, when the launchpads suddenly go bright with burning propellant, when someone finally cuts the string and the Sword slices downward, pinpoint aim on your forehead.

And so tonight, I rest, putting my special Plan U into action in the morning. But I can't rest, not really, not with this damned tape loop in my head.


I had gone so far as to tell my bosses that I was looking for a new job, actively. I knew I'd be the first to go. I put my head on the chopping block, I dared the executioner to swing. And, after the cut was made, I found out I had company; out of the 15 coders, technical writers, and managers that collectively formed the Product Development department of TV Guide Networks, Inc., eight survived. Eight. And those eight look forward to a stretch of 80-hour workweeks as they try and piece the eggshell back together, as they try to coordinate with the Q&A and Database divisions, both deeply wounded as well, poor sots.

Fuck. It still smarts a bit.

I am without family, with little debt; no credit cards, no student loans, just a car that's still three years away from ownership. I have 8 weeks of severance pay, signed and delivered. I can move back in with my parents, cut costs, live on the cheap, no problem. I had a plan, I was ready and now the hour has arrived and it's time to move, to follow the scent of fresh opportunities and hound headhunters and cower weak HR servants into submission. And driving myself forward will lighten the load on my psyche.

But for tonight, and tonight only, I'll sit on my balcony and stare at the stars, lick a wound or two, and feel my stomach lurch about. Fuck.

well, gonna have a little snack here before midnight, 'cause after midnight, can't have one!

'cause in the a.m., I go under the knife

that is, after they put me under

Meaning, I'm having a little surgery in the morning...they're taking something out..something they say I don't need ..Something that's causing me problems..First operation for me, and I've been around awhile..but I don't want to be one of those old farts who goes on and on about this operation and that operation...etc, etc,

soooo shut up already

o.k., good night

Took a cd out of the box it was given to me in for the second time since it was given to me, by my wife. Even the happy song seem to be depressing right now. Funny how Moxy Fruvous can be that way. Well ok perhaps King of Spain couldn't be like that, but that is beside the point.

What is the point? The point is I miss Windigo and I'm not even sure when she left. I love you dee but I'm sorry, I burn for Kir. Hell there are times I don't want to, but I do. I'm sorry. I guess this is one of the times I should ignore the advice "never stop burning". I can't. But then again, I ignored the advice pleading with me "please don't just burn out of my life"

I'm in for yet another strange weekend with the crew. Guess it's just how things were ment to be.....you will both be there...One who I want and wants me, and one who I think I breathe for sometimes and who doesn't want me on the same beach.

I don't know what to do. But when have I?

I will hold on
Far too many node ideas, and too little motivation. The attention span of a hyperactive toddler with a bag of red frogs. Brain too busy thinking, questioning, obsessing.....

One of these days I will node Impartial's guide to cane fields in far North Queensland, Chatting with cane toads and Mud is only fun when getting clean is an option. Pithy observations on the pros, cons and disappointments of not shaving my legs or underarms for a month and sexy, clean factuals about Tully, Ingham and The big mudcrab will follow.

Then it will all go downhill.
Bleakness, confusion and self-doubt.
Career questioning.
Life issues.
The odd, intentionally gruesome medical node.
Overly personal (possibly drunken) w/us in dodgy-relationship type nodes.
A barrage of daylogs weeping over the fact that my life is shit, I'm a fucking headcase with a giant tub of angst and this is not a relationship, it's a series of anecdotes.
Cut n'pastes of song lyrics that seem incredibly meaningful to me so fuck you all at the time.

But this too shall pass.
This too shall pass
This too shall goddamn pass.....


For the last few day I've been working on some of my code. You can find details bout this from my Advogato diary.


My 1000th Writeup Just Somehow Walked Past.

As if that would matter, none of my stuff is probably actually worth anything. I'll never get to the Best Users list anyway... =(

Comment from Random M-noder To The Less-Than-M-noders: Somehow, I don't feel any special. Should I? I guess not.


Time to face the challenges of the day.


I re-enabled Microsoft Core Fonts in Mozilla and now E2 looks sort of schweet. =) Who knows, maybe even the Jukka theme would became remotely usable with these fonts. (Cool theme, sucky font choices.)


Wrote something as a reply to the K5 article, and when I was importing it to E2, a weird code idea came to my mind.

At least I'm inspired. =)

Other day logs o' mine...

Recent Nodifications: Trial of Grievance Dark Caste One True MP3 Filename Format Gtk::GladeXML Ecce gratum (The Kilonode) zenirc Zircon M-x

Noded today by y.t.: On continuity of art and programming as art HTML unlinker for Emacs

Updated: Slithering Perl Horrors

It's been a short day today. Its 4am and my day is only about 11 hours old. I guess that's what you get for sleeping late. I had weird dreams though, dreaming about ravishing a girl's body, then waking up when she spoke my name. That was sort of weird but then, like anything, all good things must come to an end.

I woke up, and realized how late it has been. I've been getting calls all day on my cell phone, especially from Ikea. People wanting me to start early, stay late, take shifts, whatever other junk they wanted. So tomorrow, instead of having a light afternoon shift, I have a day long evening shift. While I didn't really want it, I need the money to live right? I resist the urge to eat something simply because I didn't want to have to spoil my dinner. Besides, supper was only two hours away anyways.

My sister comes home and I run out to get my haircut. The place that cuts hair for 10 bucks is closed for the day so I had to pay almost 15 bucks. Irritating little buggers. I come home, my mom and other sister still not home. We proceeded to eat. Since MrFurious didn't want to go to the gym, I went alone, with my sister giving me a ride.

I saw some high school students on the way inside and felt older than I am already. But I proceeded to go inside. I start with some cardio again, but this time for one hour, which left me about 22 miles. I didn't feel it at the time, but I sure as hell did when I got home. I finished up my workout with some weight training and off I go.

I call my sister for a ride but to no avail. I call MrFurious thinking that he might go to the arcade and that I may walk over to his house and ride over with him. But he didn't so I decided to walk home. That was a big big big mistake.

As I was walking home, I passed through this really dark road. I didn't mind. I had my korean music blasting in my ear. I even saw my lady friend as she was heading hoem in her Honda Civic. Then I started walking through an area that I used to hang around in a lot. Memories started flooding me, as they have been for the last few days. While I pass them all the time, I never look at them, and in the darkness, it seemed as if I could hear the voices of the past beckoning to me. It overwhelmed me, almost making me fall to my knees as I stopped to look at the darkness. I stood there, with streetlight hanging overhead, beaming their light down on me. I slowly started to walk over, then I decided against it. I ran to the nearby convenience store to catch my breath, and to grab some water. I kept walking and walking and walking and never realized how much memories these places meant to me. I ran, continuously, and kept running. I only stopped because I dropped my gym shirt. Overwhelming memories flowed through me, and it made my heart beat faster than my workout. As I got to a far enough distance, I didn't realize how fast I moved or how much I ran. Slowly, I paced my way home.

On the way home, I found myself thinking again. The first defense for me was to start singing out loud. I guess I'm one of those people who aren't multi-tasking so I simply got rid of my ability to think. If you're talking to yourself, you can't think deeply.

I get home, and go online for about 10 minutes. Then I head off for some well deserved rest and relaxation. Great invention, the bathtub. Fill with hot water, soak for about 30 minutes, play some of your favorite music and let it rejuvenate your body. I get out and grab my snack, then head over to the computer.

After installing Audiogalaxy satellite software, I download some more music by SES and play some Brood War. Of course, I died horribly as it fell down to 2 vs 1. Now I'm here, after watching some Batman.

I bandaged my right knee. It hurts right behind the knee, it feels like a tendon is being ripped. But that's not the concern right now. I've been thinking too damn much lately but I can't seem to shake it off. I think the biggest frustration is the fact that I need to grow up but don't have the ability to do so. Let me clarify that. Its not that I do not have the ability to do so, rather it being the fact that I do not have the willpower to do it. It scares me, at least my inability to do anything. So, now, before I sleep, I listen to some SES, hoping that their song Dreams Come True is real...
Today is a good day. I have a nice job, I just had an interview for another nice job, I'm getting a PC of my very own today, and I get a home internet connection (unmetered!) at long last next week. Admittedly I'm writing this node on a machine whose space bar doesn't work properly, and whose screen is in the full glare of the normally-rare sun. But those are just small pebbles on my path of happiness.

Presently reading: The Bhagavad-Gita. I still can't find J Robert Oppenheimer's quotation. I'm reading the same translation as has been noded, so if someone can point me to the right bit, I'd be grateful.

Previously reading: The Tao Te Ching, or Lao Tzu. All very interesting.
Ok. This will probably be one of my shortest day logs ever. Mainly because I have a paper due in less than an hour that I haven't even listed all the citations for yet. It's my birthday and the last time I'm ever turn twenty-something. It's weird but comforting. I'm more than ready to kiss my twenties goodbye forever. They have been tiring to say the very least.

Two exams and multiple papers due today. It kinda takes the edge off the passage of another b-day. Apparently I'm going to be dragged off tonight to eat a ton of sushi even if I don't want to. Yoon gave me a couple of presents including a little bendy doll version of Leatherface from the Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Beats the hell out of a new wallet I have to say.

Now I must compose a limp Works Cited page. It figures.

i woke up this morning, or should i say, around noon, and sidled over to the computer. i checked yahoo! weather as i am wont to do on occasion, and then, i noticed their $35/year webhosting and thought, soon, the internet will blow up. it will fuggin' blow right the hell up. it is *too* easy now. everything is. so it's all going to blow up. there is no way around it.

and when it does, we'll all go outside a lot more, probably.

I've come to the conclusion that the slacker in me is ever-present. In high school he caused endless problems for me. Homework a non-issue. Horrible grades in everything save for visual art (which they took me out of to make room for study hall... that's right... I needed to study more... bastards). End result? I was kicked out of my magnet school for not keeping the GPA. After that, home-schooling and an art school (where I did fine).

Then, wham! College. That's where I start kicking ass and taking names. Dean's list three semesters in a row. I am God. So there I was, comfortable in my devotion to my studies, blowing smoke from my metaphorical gun.

Mr. Slacker raises his ugly head. I'm falling down this semester, and I realized today that Mr. S. is behind it all. I see him out of the corner of my eye, snickering in a corner. Homework? I can do it tomorrow. Paper? I can write it the morning of the day it's due. That kind of putting-off has always been my bread and butter, but now it's catching up with me.

No way am I on the Dean's list this semester, and I feel kind of hollow because of it. I don't have any scholarships to protect (I never had a GPA to show anyone), but I just spent the last four or five years trying to prove myself. Trying to make up for my past failures. For the most part, I've succeeded. But now it's all coming back. It's easy to say, "Well just apply yourself." But... but... but...

Well, I have no response to that.

This summer is regrouping time.

A short, clumsy dayolog from Italy.
I am at my parents' house, in the small and boring village of Orzinuovi, in Italy. It feels good to see my parents: they seem quite happy. My sister is busy with her studies, and my granparents are busy with their grandchildren. The weather is quite pleasant; the unbearable Northern Italy summer will start in about a month.
On Monday I interviewed for a job. I dearly hope I get it. But, in any case, by the end of May I will be back in Italy. Enough Mexico for baffo.
Much as I love the country, it is not my country I am afraid. Of course, there are no guarantees that -after 5 years out of Italy- I will be happy here again.

I find myself changed in many ways. But it is too early to worry: first they have to accept me, and turn me into Professor Baffo :-{).

PS: nice daylog by mibarra! I share his feelings, completely.


So, last night I went out with a former enemy, and maybe I made a friend.
(If you read my daylog from yesterday, you'd understand this better.) To summarize, a friend of mine(Nick Robbins) is very antisocial, and hardly ever leaves his house.
This doesn't bother me, if it doesn't bother him. Rachel (a friend of his, and somewhat of a (former) enemy to me) on the other hand, is rather worried about him. Nick just quit school, doesn't drive, and doesn't have a job.
Like I said, this doesn't really bother me if it doesn't bother him.
But I went out with Rachel because she wanted to talk to me about Nick (since he's my best friend). The conversation was easy-going, although I was pretty aprehensive about the whole thing.
Basically, I told her to engage Nick more, because her biggest gripe was that he never calls. I told her to get him out of his room, out of his house full of cats, and into the sun, or atleast into the car.

On the other side of the globe...
I got an e-mail in reply to the one I sent on April 24, 2001 to my ex-girlfriend about we never see each other anymore, and how I want to know if I'm wasting my time trying to be her friend.
I know I'll probably go to hell of quoting an e-mail that isn't mine without the senders permission, but this is an excerpt from the letter (it started out by saying something to the extent of "I don't want to write this, but you asked me to so I will", I asked for some communication, a phone call an e-mail, something.) Anyhow, here's the excerpt:
I don't think it is a good friendship. WE FIGHT ALL THE TIME. And you are mean to me. You are insulting and rude but then tell other people that you still love me. YOU DO NOT LIKE ME. This is not how people who care about each other act. You think that I am dumb and a spoiled brat. You really don't know me. And I don't think its because I've hidden things from you. I haven't. But we don't really ever talk about what I'm interested in because you don't think it is important enough.
I think that our relationship has run its course. I don't want to say don't call, pretend like you don't know me in public, and all that. That's stupid. We can still talk sometimes but I really do think that being with you now just makes me angry. You have changed a lot since I first met you, so have I, but we really aren't very compatible anymore.
Don't you just love it when people (especially -ex's tell you how you feel, what you know, and who you do or don't like?
Truth be known, I do still love this girl, and I know that's dumb, because we broke up over a year ago. I've been trying to salvage some sort of friendship with this girl since she stopped talking to me after we had sex in her dorm (while her boyfriend is 300+ miles away in college himself). Basically, I've accepted that we can't be together, but I thought that we could be friends. I truly want to be friends with her, and (for the most part) I've been very cordial with her. True, I've blown my lid at her a couple of times, but who wouldn't after being laid then forgotten by someone you love?

I really don't know what she means about her hidding things from me (or her not hidding things). I really just don't have a clue. I never mentioned anything about hiding things from each other, but I'm sure she doesn't tell me alot of things, and likewise, she knows nothing about my personal life.
Jesus, the more I write, the more it sounds like we shouldn't be friends.

Enough of that soul-rot.

Prom is tomorrow night.
I don't go to high school, I am home schooled (I would be a senior, so I take all college classes) but many of my friends go to my old high school. Since I've never gone to a prom, and two (actually three) friends of mine suggested that I go with them, I decided to show up.
I wouldn't normally do this, but I kind of think of it as "re-infiltrating" the school system.

I'm really struggling with grasping quantum physics. I'm a visual person, I like to be able to picture things in my mind. I started reading The Dancing Wu Li Masters by Gary Zukav last week. At first I loved it. The idea of infinite possibilities and even reality as probabilities appealed to me and made sense. I love Einstein's explanation of things as a watch that we know works, but we can't know exactly how until we open the case and look at the stuff inside. So we develop theories that explain how it works. We do experiments and if they explain observed results, then we accept the theories as "truth". Ok, I can visualize the watch thing. But what I can't get my mind around is the concept that light behaves as both a particle and as a wave. And that matter, the stuff we're made up of is the same.

I'm not doing this for a class, or because it's been assigned to me. I'm trying to understand things because I like to learn. Usually I read a book, or learn something, and it fits nicely into my little view of the world, it just expands that view somewhat. Quantum mechanics isn't doing that. It's not fitting in. I read somewhere the other day about the super string theory, which tries to explain the duality of light/matter acting as both a particle and a wave. That helped a little, but I cant get the picture out of my mind of a bunch of scientists in lab coats running around spraying silly string into the air and trying to explain the universe by watching it float to the ground. It doesn't get me any closer to understanding quantum theory, but it sure makes me smile. That's part of life too.

Wow, saturday is my senior prom, I can't really believe that I'm almost out of the hellhole otherwise known as school.
And even though i'll be going to college in the fall, it seems like i havent been in school for too awful long, but when I think about it, I've been in there for 13 years. And thats a long friggin time when you get to thinking about it.

I never really understood why all the girls cry on the last couple days, but I'm really starting to. All my friends will be spread across the US and some even in other countries, and I'll probably never see most of them again.

College is going to be such a change for me, especially not having my friends to do stuff with. I just hope my life doesn't change too much, I like the way it is now. Hell I have plenty of cool friends, a prom date, damn nice job, and even a real nice friend that I hope to date soon.

But thats what college is about, change. And if it does change me, well damnit, it better be for the good.

Me personally, I embrace living. As a person on the planet, I try on a daily basis to encourage what's right. "What's right" differs in every single person that stands by my side. This difference creates our individuality, but at the same time groups us into who we know, love, and hate. The beauty of E2 shown by my mind. I have lived, my eyes see many things. My nose exposed to the most pungent stenches humanity can expose physically and mentally and my fingers touch, stroke, stick to, and absorb pain everyday.

But last night hurt. I've seen similar things. Maybe it's the current transition I'm going through. I drank one Harp after work while playing pool with Titus. Titus and I go back about 9 months. He provided me with cocaine initially, but we have both moved on to a speed free lifestyle. After watching Bucks beat the Magic, we headed back to his place. He'd mentioned something about his roomate and her current state of troubles. I know her, she's a stripper who pushes X on the side. Once we got inside, I absorbed the situation within a second......my first response yelled at me to leave.

I turned on the living room light to find the place trashed. Trails of blood stained the hardwood floor. Their dogs were bundled together on the couch, they know me and moved over so I could pet them. The dogs sported marker drawn glasses, the inital giggle this produced turned sour with the blood on the back of one leg. I walked over to her room where Titus stood in the doorway. The shithole feeling you get from P.T. Anderson consumed me. Every nerve in my body turned into steel while I stood in front of a crying, half naked girl. Her right forearm was carved to a fucking flesh salad with blood dressing. "Where's my fucking X?" Titus and I glared at each other. It was obvious she took all of it, it was obvious she was in the process of trying to convince herself into her own lie, and it was fucking obvious that no one ever wants to see this! You have to semi-humor someone completely freaked out.....you have to. So Titus and I looked around for 15 minutes, looking for a pill bottle that didn't exist. Our search revealed method, broken glass and blood scattered throughout the sink. I put my hand on the counter with enough pressure to allow a few shards inside my hand. As I picked them out, I almost got sick. You can't feel pain when you are mentally numb. I wanted to grab her, pick her up, and shake the shit out of her. Drugs destroy people, I still smoke pot, but no use of anything to the degree of what I witnessed last night. I didn't shake her, Titus called her best friend. He also cleaned the cuts on her arm. Her friend said he'd take her to the hospital later, she didn't OD.....she freaked the fuck out.

She's OK, I just called Titus. A visit to the hospital late last night got her the medical attention she needed. At least physically, but images stick and this one is permanent.

Yesterday was weird. There was some kind of a crime wave in Berkeley. I walked up to the Bank of America ATM on Shattuck minutes after the bank was held up; cops were streaming in and the bank manager, creases between her eyebrows and mouth tight, was taping a "CLOSED FOR EMERGENCY, PLEASE COME BACK LATER" sign on the door. I deposited the $30 my co-worker gave me "toward Stanford" (after I wouldn't let her re-pay me for the autographed copy of The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay that I got for her at WonderCon), got a little cash so I could buy dinner for once, and retreated. Later, in Japanese class, one classmate's bicycle had been stolen, and another had been spontaneously stalked and then followed into our building and attacked by some strange person. He had to leave class several times in order to answer questions from security (I wondered why they added security last month! Now I know) and the police. Today I read that a Neon was stolen on College Avenue yesterday evening with its owner's eight-month-old infant in it. Lesson: never leave a child alone. I think this practice is way more common among today's parents, who are largely selfish and career-oriented, than it should be. That said, can you imagine? You do one tiny thing wrong--leaving your child and keys in the car while you dash in for coffee that you need in order to stay awake on the drive home because you work 9 hours a day and are still responsible for 75% of the housework and cooking and 90% of the childcare--and when you turn around your child is gone.

Life can change in an instant.

Also, some woman was stabbed by someone she didn't even know at the San Francisco Airport. Serious bad juju yesterday. Luckily, everything except the Japanese quizzes went fine for me...
Woke up late again today...

Every once in a while I look at myself from the point of view of an outsider, and see how I could be considered a very strange person. Here I am at work, barefoot, wearing a seagrass baseball cap over my wash-and-wear hair, alternating between writing French quizzes and reading messageboards on an ultra-conservative politics site, all while listening to music by Wendy Rule, a Wiccan artist (if there is such a thing). Welcome to the world of the walking contradiction.

At work, where I will be until Monday. I didn't expect my last day to come so soon... planned on working through July. We found out today that they don't have the money to pay student workers, so off I go to find another part-time thing that will pay me $9.00 or more an hour and let me leave after 10 weeks so I can start my real job on July 16. I've been here for three years, and I think I should be sad that I'm leaving, and so suddenly, but I'm not. I think I'm just on survival mode until graduation. Or maybe, I've forgotten how to feel altogether.

"Are you excited to be graduating?" Not really.

"Aren't you sad that your friends are leaving?" No.

"Work all summer? Don't you want to travel, to see the world?" Not particularly, and even if I did, I couldn't afford it.

Oh well. Time to return to life outside myself. Java test on Thursday desperately needs studying for. And I have to be at Allison's activation tonight, as I'm part of my fraternity's ritual team. And perhaps I'll sleep early tonight and get up in time to actually shave my legs tomorrow morning.

Baffo'll be gone soon. I can already feel the vacuum at the office. I'll miss him. I'm sad for us, very happy for him. Did you read his daylog for today?; "Enough Mexico for Baffo". I don't blame him, Mexico is a country which you can't stop hating even when you love it. Besides is hard to find cool computer jobs in a third world country.

Go for it, Baffo!!!

Baffo, not that you need it really, I know. But... I'm gladdy going to crush any remote regret you may have about leaving the job here;

It's 1:00am, I'm at the office. what am I doing?, guess.

  1. Hint 1; I'm not slacking, I'm working. (for a change :).
  2. Hint 2; I'm working on an office's assignment.
  3. Hint 3; My participation on this stuff was rushed-ly asked just yesterday.
  4. Hint 4; It's due tomorrow.
  5. Hint 5; It's due tomorrow morning at 9:00am.
  6. Hint 6; It's going to be useless.
  7. Hint 7; It's going to be useless.
  8. Hint 8; It's going to be useless.
  9. Hint 9; It's going to be useless.
  10. Hint 10; It's going to be useless.
  11. Hint 11; DAMN!, *It's* *going* *to be* *useless*. I know it's a waste of effort. Every time I punch a key I have to fight myself;

    "Go, go. Miguel. You have to do it, they asked you to save their asses."

    "I can't. I shouldn't. It won't matter tomorrow's evening if I do it or not."

    "But *they asked* you. It's not about doing useful things, it's just about some people's asses welfare."

    "It's a waste. I know. I've done it a couple of times before. Exactly the same. over an over. It was a lousy idea from the beginning."

    "They asked kindly :)"

    "Why the heck did I tell them yes?. I should say 'NO, you are asking for a stupid thing, and I won't do it.'"

    "It's going to be the last time, they promised"

    "They promised the same the last time"

    "No, really. they say is going to be over. Tomorrow at noon. over. truly."

    "uh huh. The next time, they will, again, say 'Miguel, pretty please, just one more time, really. come on. Bend over, honey'. They'll even ask me to bring the KY."

So, Baffo, guess, guess, guess. What I'm doing. Besides missing Hugo. It's... it's... it's...

Project Goosefood !!!!!

Yup, that's right, same as always, you have; SEP's big wheels, local big wheels, stupid design house's big wheels, and a bunch of people affected just by side-effect, a big room, a projection cannon, lots of coffee, lots of stupid talking about the project. All in all, a beautiful mexican democrazy (sic). Useful work done: 0.

Not your usual big and useless project, mind you. This one it's special. It even seems more like a recurrent nightmare. Don't come too close, it may suck the living energy out of your body. It have done it to Miss Nice, it have done it to Baffo. It's going to do it to me, unless I start running fast, soon.

So, Baffo, please. Just go away. Don't worry about me. I'll run too.

Oh!, and if I manage to get your job. Three heads will roll *for sure*. They will be out of here even before you leave for your last day. That day, you'll leave the building, you'll get to the main gate outside the parking lot, and just as you turn right at the street as always, you'll hear; *thud* *thud* *thud* just behind you. Don't bother to look, you know how they are. I'm salivating already. BOOOAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAH!

I never get postal mail. I've lived so much of my life online it seems that all the mail or advertisements, even dunning notices all seem to come to me by e-mail. Oh, sure, I'll get the infrequent credit card come on but since I've only ever used one credit card in my life, and only own two of the things, they're infrequent indeed.

So imagine my surprise when a postcard fluttered down from 'tween the pages of my roommate's Maxim magazine. At first, I thought it was one of those annoying subscription cards. This card, however, was addressed to Big Ole WolfDaddy, and it had witty handwritten greets from several of my fellow and favorite noders.

Possessed by both Sally Field and The Flying Nun, I flew into the house, shouting "They like me, they really like me!" Since none of my roommates really understand my status as an e2 addict, I got a lot of wan smiles and the verbal equivalent of a pat on the head.

Pooh on them. That postcard made my day. My week, my frickin' month! So, to show my gratitude towards the e2 community as well as those awesome noders who sent me the card, I present to you a mix'n'match game. If you're the first person who can correctly match up each pithy saying with the noder who wrote it, you will get a prize. Another prize will be given to one who can suss out the identity of the Very Special Anonymous Guest Star (who was apparently so blitzed that they couldn't remember their name ;-) Noders who actually sent me the card are disqualified from playing, though it might be interesting to hear your guesses ... to see what you remember of that night. You'll just have to settle for knowing that I love you all with an intensity that would be a little frightening if we actually lived on the same side of the country.

/msg me with your guesses ... and take it away, Skip:

1. Let's get drunk and be sexy together.          |   A. thefez
   You supply the booze.  I'll get the tree.      |   B. WickerNipple
2. WOULD YOU LIGHT MY CANDLE!?                    |   C. Yossarian
3. WickerNipple sayz I like you! -- You're        |   D. stand/alone/bitch
   in the club.                                   |
4. Is this thing on?                              |   E. Very Special Anonymous Guest Star
   TOUCH MY STUFF                                 |

And now ... we present the NO ONE WINS THE PRIZE BECAUSE NO ONE FIGURED IT ALL OUT AFTER 8 MONTHS answer sexxxxxtion!

1B2D3A4C5E -- and the guest star was SweetPea. There you have it! G'night Gracie!

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