Just a silly musing...

Have you ever picked up an obscenely long novel? One of those books that you buy at the book store, you get it home and it feels like it will be an eternal source of entertainment. No matter how much time you devote to it, sleep calls you eventually, and the looming threat of tomorrow's alarm clock persuades you to reluctantly put the book down. You carefully place the bookmark between the two pages where you left off and unconsciously survey your progress.

The book is 6cm thick and after how many hours you still have 5cm to go. This is a good thing, you're getting your money's worth out of this book. But wait, this is silliness. The contents of the book cannot be nearly measured in centimeters, the most cold, dead base units of measure. This tendency to apply these purely objective units is somewhere hidden in the depths of our brains (long trained by society towards materialism and objective measure).

Here we find ourselves taking one of the most abstract and cerebral forms of human expression and unconsciously measuring it with one of the simplest and least expressive techniques available. It's strange. It doesn't make the novel any less enjoyable, and if the story is long, it's long. If the story is short, it's short. So long as it's a good story that's enjoyable, thought provoking, and interresting, so be it. I'll enjoy reading it, but still, somewhere deeply burried is this strange part of my brain saying how much?.

As was explained yesterday, my housemate wasn't well, and had to be taken to the hospital.

Today she's back home and apparently well, able to talk and so on, except she can't seem to read or write as fast as before. The doctors say it was either a mild stroke or the mother of all migraines. She also doesn't seem to be able to remember anything from university, which could be a problem seeing as she's nearing the last part of her course. I have no idea whether she'll have to go back at any point, but she seems comfortable, if worried about what'll happen when she goes to sleep.

I'd just like to say thanks to everyone who asked about her, and that I'm really glad that she's mostly recovered.
It's a mad mad world. There are no happy endings for me tonight... Today? feh -- this morning (2:23 A.M).

I don't get it... I breath, I eat, I walk about as though I'm alive -- but the truth? Well, the truth is I'm already dead. All such a simple coincidence. I just happened to bump into her one day. It’s not as easy to “bump out” of someone’s life. It's these tight corners of life that make it most beautiful.

My eyes dart beyond the illuminated monitor through the slit/slanted blinds. "What are you looking for?" It's never there... she's never there. Every time the ice machine shifts, or a glimmer of street lamplight catches my eye appropriately -- it sounds like a door slamming, or a set of headlights rounding the cul-de-sac to park on my curb. Every time I look up, a rush of hope runs up my spine, sweats my forehead, and squeezes my heart.

Everyone likes to believe their story is a little different. There's some strange twist, or divine circumstance... it's not the same old "lost love" story -- but in reality, it is. It only seems different because it's happening to them.

I am no exception. I believe this to be the grandest romance ever conceived, and that she, Danielle, is the one for whom I long. Said romance may not, cannot be -- not now. My logical half tells me that this is only the dopamine flooding my body, numbing all feeling – all feeling but pain. My intellectual self tells me these are just synapses in my brain; tiny electrical impulses controlling my every thought and movement. My rational self tells me this is only a big deal to me. It's only a big deal because it's happening to me. My philosophical self tells me that anything, when reduced to its simplest terms, is pointless.

My observant self tells me no one cares. It's true -- just one more shot into the darkness of oblivion. Another one of life's tragedies spent, whispered into the ear of a dead man, thrown into the realms of the radioactive wasteland of emotion. Too toxic even for editors to touch – this toxic wilderness is the Daylog.

Red and blue flashing lights don't make the best night light.

Around 2am, I heard several loud crashing boom sounds. Metal on metal? Gun shots? This country girl hadn't a clue. I did look out my window to hear squealing brakes and watch a car with no lights go squealing around the corner, followed shortly by a cop car with lights in full bloom. Interestingly enough, my apartment is right across the street from the police station. I figured any action I saw would be cars rushing from here to somewhere else, not being right here. Boy was I wrong.

I was just nestling into my pile of rags I call a bed (well, sleeping bags, but they are seeming less and less adequate every night) when I notice flashing lights outside my window. Of course I had to look. Two cop cars were parked in the street. People from the houses and apartments next door and next to the police station were going out. A cop was putting orange traffic cones on either end of the street. Whatha?

I saw a girl from my building down at her car, so I decided to get a look. After searching for my keys, pulling on pants and shoes, I headed down for a look. She and I talked - I had never met this girl before, she lives on the lower floor on the opposite side of the building from me. I feel really horrible - I have already forgotten her name. Blame the excitement.

Her story of hearing banging sounds corroberated mine, and on closer look we could see a very torn up red car across the street and two cars parked on our side, at the house next to our building, with some damage. Makes me wonder - what if I had parked in the street, instead of in the parking lot? My car is maybe ten to twenty yards away from the mayhem, albeit tucked out of the way in the lot. Freaky.

While we were talking and shivering on my neighbor's doorstep, an ambulance pulled up into our parking lot - but without flashing lights or any sort of interesting action. After we went back inside to our respective homes, I saw a fire truck pull up into the street. The last peek I took showed firemen cleaning up the street.

I have never lived in town. These things have never happened around me before. Mundane as they may seem, this is all rather new and I'm not sure how I feel about it. One thing - I am glad not to be directly involved.

I just wish my adrenaline hadn't been set into action again just when I thought I might get to sleep.

Greetings from Houston!

We came over here to H-Town (as my friends call it) for my cousins birthday. We left Miami and it was 98 degrees (no, not the stupid band) weather, and came to Houston's 96 degrees weather. I thought it would cool down a bit over here, but noooo, it's still hot.

Today is my cousin's birthday party (he can cry if he wants to). I bought him the perfect gift yesterday. The Lord of the Rings DVD! There was some stupid "limit one per person" deal at the store, so I couldn't pick one up for myself. That, and I was too lazy to look through another store.

I've been talking to some of my other cousins and some of the gifts which they have gotten him are: the Lateralus CD from Tool (which, might I add, is one of the best CD's ever), Final Fantasy VI for PlayStation (oh, that reminds me, as soon as I get home, I have to play that game...again), and yes, someone else has gotten the LOTR on DVD. So I'm thinking I should keep my copy for myself, and get him another present. But now I can't figure out what to get him.

Well, he is a fan of football (the American kind, not the British version). He's been excited ever since he got word that the new expansion team, the Houston Texans, would be coming to his hometown. I remember when Houston lost the Houston Oilers franchise, and had them move to Tennessee. He was pretty angry to say the least. Well, I might try to find something related to football.

Ugh, I can't decide. I'll just get him some money and let him decide what he wants. He better appreciate it too. Money doesn't come cheap...

Yesterday she called me.

"Francis! I'm at a payphone! I was just at your house, but no one answered!"

GASP! She was at my house and I didn't even hear the doorbell! What a silly boy I am, listening to Final Fantasy music when I should have been quietly waiting for a doorbell. But, that's the best part - it was a surprise! She really does keep getting better.

We went to the Olive Garden for dinner. I got Spaghetti, she got Fettuccini. I ate the salad. She likes the breadsticks a lot. I do, too. Afterwards we took in a movie. "Road to Perdition." When the movie ended we drove to a nearby park and lay in the grass for a couple of hours. Unfortunately we couldn't stay there for too long, as I had to get home for a short trip to New York.

She took me home. She parked her car in my driveway, and we talked for a while longer. We didn't want to let go. She gave me a present.

So, I get in, fall asleep, and then wake up 30 minutes later to head to New York to pick up the grandparents. About 17 hours later I am back home. Ack! Karate class! 3 weeks off for the summer and I simply have to take in a few lessons before I move back to the city.

Karate was brutal.

I had not slept much the previous night, and I was too dehydrated. My feet hurt, and the blisters from Otakon didn't enjoy the agitation of learning a new kata.

At any rate...

I drove the 7 miles from the dojo to my house, and my step dad tells me I got a card. Then he said he can't find it! ACK! I had a sneaking suspicion that it was from her, as she had recently been away. Eureka! I found the card in the back of one of my step dad’s cars. Thank heaven!

It was from her! It was homemade, to boot! She is the best.

So, for the past two days, Jennifer has given me more reasons to smile than I am usually given in a month. Her surprises are welcome - and I am not usually one who goes for surprises.

Oh, and I saved the movie stub.
I never save movie stubs.


I just smelled my shirt from Tuesday night. It smells like her. I am going to hold it while I sleep this evening.

too much to do?

weill in japan: day 36

I keep staying up really late for no good reason. The college student schedule is burned into my head.

Today marks the third consecutive day that I'll go to bed at around midnight or later. If I lived in the dorm, this wouldn't be a problem, but I have to commute roughly 45 minutes each way. I woke up late this morning at 7:10 AM and rushed through my morning routine. I was able to get to campus on time and fully washed, but this sort of thing can't continue for too much longer.

As the trip enters its final ten days, there are a lot of things that I want to do but simply won't be able to do. Travel to places like Kyoto will take too much time and cost a lot of money. I'm hoping that I can stretch my current cash reserves exactly to the limit to avoid changing money back into dollars. If I can use my credit card to do the remainder of my small-item shopping, I should be able to pull it off.

At the same time, the school year is drawing very close. Freshman orientation begins just as I'm arriving back in New York, so I need to make sure that I roll out the welcome mat for the two organizations whose web sites I manage. Coordinating these tasks is made even more difficult by the fact that I have access to the Internet for free at school only, and the 13-hour time difference means that I have to wait at least a full day for e-mail replies. This week, I've been spending a lot more time in the lab than in the past managing all of these tasks.

I made the mistake of liking games too much today. I visited the local arcade to check out Virtua Fighter 4 Evolution, which debuts today with two new characters and other enhancements to the year-old game. It's pretty good, but I only got to play once in a versus match which I lost, 3-2. After watching the matches continue across the two two-player setups in the arcade, I played a few more games and left.

Milestone: I have beaten an anonymous person in a Japanese arcade fighting game. While playing Soul Calibur II, I was challenged by someone sitting at the opposite machine. I won fairly handily, 3-1, but the opponent's skills were pretty weak. After dismissing him/her, I got all the way up to the last character Inferno before losing.

Between web page tasks for the campus organizations and myself, playing games both in the arcades and at home, and spending time with my host family, there is little to no time for homework and sleep. The homework load has been mercifully light as the class continues to shift gears every day, but I still have things to do. My room has too many distractions in it. This situation is starting to remind me of my dorm room back in Pittsburgh, whose distractions sometimes drive me to study at the library instead. I can use the library at ICU before leaving for home, but I can't stay too late because of dinner at home.

I know that when I get home and back to campus, people will get on my case about all the things I didn't do while in Japan, but I'll try my best not to let that get to me.

One last note: I remarked yesterday that I was unaware of the meaning of the word "kohibito" (lover), and that lack of knowledge worked against me over the weekend. Apparently it is in the dictionary, under its proper pronunciation "koibito." One character makes a world of difference.

Time to pack my stuff up, get some sleep, and hope I can drag my ass out of bed on time in the morning.

Log in or register to write something here or to contact authors.