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Forgive me E2, for I have shirked. It has been 21 days since my last node.

I took a bit of time off and went and relaxed in Fiji for 9 days (to be noded later) as it is now winter in my country and I needed to warm up a bit. Other than this, I have been too busy messing about doing work things at work (rather than noding) and looking after the home life (rather than noding).

In all this time there is very little node-worthy material.

I have sent out invites to all and sundry for my birthday (a major milestone coming up) and am looking forward to a tequila-fest and falling unconscious in a pool of my own vomit. Very simliar to last weekend where I was reportedly throwing chicken bones at other diners at a local KFC after a major binge with the boys (an event I have not partaken in for some time). The chicken-bone throwing incident doesn’t surprise me in the least as this was a favourite pastime of mine in years gone by where you throw the bones at the window when people look in at you when walking past - it gives them a hell of a fright.

Rest assured, oh E2, oh escape mechanism, oh crutch of mine, that I will attempt to do better in future and node more interesting tripe as time permits. I will now go and do my penance.

Our Everything2, who art in cyberspace,
C!hing-worthy be thy nodes.
Thy Nodegel fills, our scillia glisten,
In the Chatterbox as they do in Node Heaven.
Give us this Node, to earn our bullshit,
and deliver us from GTKY.
For thine is the database,
the C!s and the XP, now and for ever,


Ladies and gentlemen! Boys and girls, children of all ages.

Welcome. And hello.

I come to you on this fine day, to give a small guide to coping with the loss of someone special. There are good methods, bad methods. But, here's what I can come up with off the top of my head. And after, I shall write about what the hell I've been up to the last few days. Not a whole lot, I can assure you.

Devon's guide to coping with the Loss Of A Girlfriend, Who's the Mother of Your Daughter, and Exceptionally Beautiful, and Who Means The World To You.

Or, Jesus Dude, I Need Some Help Over Here!

First, you can meditate. Meditation clears the mind, allows you to deal with your emotions in a saner, less agitated way. Not a bad idea. Go forth, meditate, friends!

Second, you can read a book! I have done this three times in the past five days since T. and I have split. Two of the times were a great book called Fight Club, by Chuck Palahniuk. I recommend this to any reader out there - it's not a high recommendation, but a recommendation nonetheless; to me, Moby Dick is a high recommendation. The other book I read was Skeleton Crew, by Stephen King. Great reading to take your mind off things.

My third suggestion for coping with loss is to drink copious amounts of alcohol. This works. Now, shut up people, I know the whole thing about how alcohol's a depressant, and the effects are only temporary, and that perhaps you will be more depressed afterwards. But hot damn! doesn't the short term feel good!

Fourth suggestion: enjoy the child you share. Love her all the more. Take the love that's reflected back at you, and direct it at the daughter. Or son.

Fifth suggestion: node. What a great excuse to node! Find a topic - and node away!

Sixth, and last: turn your mom's puny little weakling Pentium 133 machine with Windows 98 into a Debian Linux box without her knowledge and get yelled at for it later. She may not like it at first, but try to preach to her the values of Linux, its good points. Try to make her see the light. Try to break her Windows-loving spirit. Fill her with the truth that is Linux.

Thank you for your time.

I wanted to thank Lometa and mellamaphone for their kind words via the good old /msg. Makes me feel good. You know, I think that I'll get to noding again. Even though this awful little computer has very little to offer, that doesn't mean I can't still node, right? Right? Right!

I've opted against writing about my day(s). I haven't been doing enough of interest to really merit writing up a big old node about it. Suffice it to say, I'm dealing with my loss, talking with Trina, wondering if we're going to get back together or not. We'll see. That's all I can say about it, which hurts as well: we'll see. I'm outtie. Gonna finish up Fight Club for the third time. I'm really into it. I'm finding cool little eccentricities in the writing that makes me go OoOoooooOOOOoo!. I'm totally enjoying it. So, be cool], people. Be happy.

Happy Fourth of July, to all the United-Statesians in the house.

"Knee deep in regret and remorse..."

That's how I feel right now. It's official... I'm an idiot. Whatever chance I had for a close relationship with her is gone - and it's not like it wasn't my fault. I got a little too close to her little sister, because I thought she had found somebody else and just didn't care anymore.

Yeah... I can't blame her. I'm her best friend and she loves me. Err.. I hate my life.

This is stuff I should've thought of before I did what I did. This is stuff I should've thought of after I did what I did. Not a few weeks later when everything's already happened, and the future's already the present. Typical of me... And it seems like Mike wouldn't mind hooking up with her - great, the past repeating itself yet again.

At this point it makes me too sick to even think about it. The first time I've felt emotion in so long, and it's all moot because I couldn't control my hormones. It's not that simple though, because I really do like her.. More than that though, I feel extremely deeply, like that feeling you get once in . . . years. Now I'm her friend - how predictable is that? Yeah. Textbook.

So now what? I don't know.. I don't want to even give a fuck anymore. Just let life wash it over like the sands of time, erase it with the tides of daily life and Everquest. The feeling that I had removed from my emotions came back strong, and now it's all gone. Again. Thanks.

I guess the big question right now is why all this is so incredibly important to me... Why? Shoudln't I be worried about the fact that I don't have a job, or that my educational future is null and void? I suppose I should be concerned about the fact that my debt is increasing ever-so-slightly, maybe. I'm a fucking train wreck, and I hate it - now to try and do something about it.

In other news, the photography hobby is going pretty good. I've gone through about ten rolls of film already and taken some really interesting photographs, even though most of them really suck imho.

Chitlin is level 51 and chillin in Sebilis now with all the uber peeps. EQ's someplace that I've been spending more and more of my time, if only to escape my every day life. It's sad when I think twice about thinking...

I'm leaving for Germany and Norway in four days. In Europe for three weeks... I wonder how things will work out? Hopefully it'll all be fun... Maybe I'll meet someone? Who knows...

At the request of The Cow, our saga continues today. Well, yesterday, really, but there you go. I have node lag: at least six hours must elapse between me doing something and getting round to noding it.

As those of you who read yesterday's daylog will know, I have been assigned a mission: to find Nick George, and convince him that Winchester College isn't a bad place after all. Having failed to find him by 10 minutes on Monday, we were returning on Tuesday. But this time we had a plan and some sandwiches.

We also decided to call him to check whether he would be in. We decided that the element of surprise wasn't quite as vital as the element of him being there.

We took a much shorter route to his house. This also led to it costing about a third as much on the second attempt as it did the first time. We reached his house at 3.30, a whole two hours earlier than Monday, despite a comparable start time. He was in. This was a good thing, but nothing to celebrate about, because we had called him and he said he would be. About two minutes after we sat down, the door opened. Nick murmured 'I wonder who that could be', and was slightly worried looking when we said it was probably just his sister. Why do we know the whereabouts of his family? Because she was walking down the road just behind us.

To cut a long story short, he was stubborn and closed-minded. He stuck to his story of being behind on the maths and physics, but also confessed that he felt he wouldn't have much freedom. May I just point out that this guy came 2nd in the entrance exams, so he is definitely not behind. We also get a lot of freedom, especially in the evenings, where we are allowed out into the town. So I don't quite know what his hang-up is.

We couldn't convince him. OJ's lawyers wouldn't have been able to. This was a man with a mindset. We decided to pack it in, and go and catch the 4.20 bus. When we got the bus stop at 4.10, we found that there wasn't a 4.20 bus. There was a 4.05 bus which we had just missed, and a 4.59 bus. Damn.

Sid wasn't pleased with our failure, but he accepted that we had tried. We had.

I am totally paranoid, and I used a well-known nick/handle over here on e2 so that I can now never write anything very personal about myself and my feelings for fear it will slap me back in the face.

My crap PC-DVD won’t work properly when I have friends over, I’ve seen two movies on it (One by myself and one with a girl I know) but whenever I try to rent with my crew it always fucks up…..

SO I did some research and it turns out I have macrovision protection, so I got software to go around it, and I hooked up the computer directly to the TV, now THAT fixed it!


I promptly ran to the nearest “Videomat” (Automatic movie vending machine) but ALAS it wasn’t there… so I ran to the next nearest one, rented it and ran back home where my friends were waiting…. IT GOT STUCK IN THE SAME PLACE… now this was all rather amusing to them, and they had a good laugh… but… I had invited them to a movie and I’d be DAMNED if they didn’t see one…. So I ran to return the movie (if you give it back within 15 minutes you aren’t charged….I got there too late and had 20 shekels taken off my VISA.

So maybe I’d rent it on cassette?! I ran to two more machines, but neither had it… I got back home dripping with sweet where my friends said that they really did have a great time, and not to worry about it… and that the videotape hasn’t been released in Israel yet.. so we’d have to rent the DVD again and watch at my friend Guy’s house.


(Did i mention i was paranoid?)

This all happened a couple of days ago actually, but it still bothers me…. Right now I am trying to track down a copy of the movie that we downloaded at work… but it seems to have disappeared into thin air.

So i'm damned I guess.....

Today is Independence Day in the U.S.. I have never celebrated the holiday - I am not American and even if I were, I don't care much for the artificial boundaries imposed by what we call countries.

However, I am going to celebrate my own Independence Day today - my personal independence from alcohol. I am taking the step, and I am finally going to try and stick to it.

I have been drinking too much for nearly 5 years. I consider myself a functioning alcoholic - I have a successful professional career, a lovely girlfriend, and pretty much everything I need to be moderately happy. People don't know that for some reason, I can't get through a day without a certain amount of alcohol. In the last few years, I've moved up (or, more appropriately, down) from cheap wine to cheap vodka. I'm 28 years old.

And here's the thing: I've tried this before. It didn't work. Several failed New Year's resolutions, too. After a few days, or a week, or sometimes even the same day, I ended up buying a bottle or a six-pack. I am not a weak person, but alcoholism is a tough habit to shake, it seems.

I don't want professional help. I've kicked other habits easily, by just making the decision and sticking to it. I quit smoking about 1 year ago, cold turkey, and never had any difficulties with that. But I've been trying to stop drinking for years.

Why did I put this here? I read somewhere that it helps to write resolutions down, so that it becomes concrete, something real, rather than just an idea. So... I'm doing one better - I'm putting my resolution down right here, for all everythingians to see. There's no backing out now, I guess.

Today is Independence Day, and I am celebrating my independence from alcohol. Wish me luck!

My mom calls me this morning and tells me we have to talk.

She's only ever said that to me twice. Once was when my uncle was killed, the other was when she grounded me for a month and nearly sold me to the circus. Naturally, I assumed this conversation was going to be bad.

She proceeds to tell me that she's found a man. My parents have been divorced for 12 years, and it's been no small secret among my family and friends that she needs to get laid. I think it will help her out a lot. So I tell her I think it's a great idea.

Then she says that's not all. She then tells me that it's a black man.

I thought I was going to fall off the couch.

I'm not a racist, but my mother's father was, and we've all kind of been living in his bigot shadow for a long time, even though he died 11 years ago.

This is going to be an interesting 4th of July.


He's been inching and unching for a long time now, but within the last day, B has finally gained his mobility.

Yesterday evening, we placed him on the changing mat on our living room floor, on his back. Within seconds he was pulling his knees up to his chest, and then pounding them back down at the floor. It was like watching a spring being compressed and released. It took him a few more moments to figure out how to gain purchase on the surface with his feet, but as soon as he had that, he was off!

He pushed himself back a full body's length, but unevenly, so that he had also turned himself 90 degrees to his left. Over the space of the next five minutes, he continued around this circle, eventually ending up with his head where his feet had been, and this time pointing to his right. (See diagrams below.)

 ___     ___ \_|_    ___
|_o_|   |   |/ |    |   |
| O |   |   |       |   |
|/^\|   |   |       |   |
|___|   |___|       |___|_|_/
                          | \
 (1)     (2)         (3)

And then this evening, I put him down on his front, and he pushed himself forward about twenty centimeters.

With just his legs. His legs are amazingly strong.

Because he found it harder to gain purchase with his feet, he was using his knees for propulsion, rubbing them red in the process. He's obviously got some way to go here before he can move freely on his front. When he feels like it, he can use his arms to raise his upper body enough that his face is pointing straight forward, and his tummy is almost off the floor. This proto-crawling behaviour would be easier if he raised his upper body while pushing off with his legs, but he hasn't figured that one out yet.

And he may forget how to do all of this. He was turning himself over from his front to his back at only six weeks, but then he forgot how to do that for a while.

One thing is certain: insofar as we've had an easy life with him so far, this is now over. We can no longer put him down, go away for a moment, and expect him to be in the same place when we come back. We never turn his back on him while he's on his changing table, but now we'll have to be doubly careful.

On the other hand, this is yet another fantastic step to watch him take. Babies are truly amazing!

(For the record, B is twelve weeks old today.)

Why is it that every morning when I travel to work, every street in the city is dry, EXCEPT for the main drag of Chinatown ! - It's ALWAYS freshly washed and wet !!


What do They do there every night, that requires such stringent cleaning, every morning?

I feel strangley left out of some weird cultural experience. It's sad to be a late 20's something-year-old, white guy. I feel like I miss out on alot (even though I am told I am in the highest demographic!), but nothing I ever do, requires a street to get washed!!

I going to have to go on a stakeout.

I am losing weight unintentionally. This is a very bad thing. My mom confronted me today to talk about stuff, see if I was stressed, the whole familiar routine. My parents are incredibly astute when it comes to noticing the prominence of certain bones of my body, even when I can’t see a difference. My clavicles have always been painfully pointed, although lately you might say they could take out an eye. Quite dangerous.

I’ve been making a special effort to get food throughout the day. My appetite sucks (thank you Prozac) so I often skip meals. That combined with a history of acute anorexia nervosa leads to a dwindling exterior appearance and more worry than I can handle coming from all social connections. Here’s my intake of the day:

Overall, a very successful day. My parents were pleased to see me eat lunch at home with the family instead of running out as usual. Bean, being his healthy self once more, politely and subtly begged for a hotdog. I gave him a little piece of a normal beef one, and I’m pretty sure he managed to eat it all on his own. Gus (the bulldog) was busy trying to get the flower pollen out of his left ear, so Bean went unchallenged in his food seeking adventures.

I saw something extremely disturbing this afternoon. The step-sister of a close friend of mine sent him the address to a site displaying pictures of a West Ottawa High School alumnus wearing a West Ottawa shirt… and having sex with someone. This person graduated in ‘98 when I was merely a freshman, but I still remember seeing him in the halls. Seeing him screwing some random chick is the last thing I thought would happen. I am left with only one question, however: who was taking these pictures? He and the girl were too busy to have helped.

On a lighter note, I watched the fireworks with some friends downtown. We were on the edge of Lake Macatawa, exactly across from the house of the before mentioned step-sister’s mother which was recently vacated in return for half a million dollars. The fireworks were not as good as Tulip Time, but nonetheless, and excuse to get together with my girls and hang out doesn’t need to involve amazingly stunning light displays. We would have been content watching the single dead fish float across the shore if left with no other choice.

On the way back to Kimmie’s house afterwards, we turned on the subwoofers in her trunk and tried not to let our vision blur.

Happy July 4th!

Not really. I recall thinking today, walking along the tree-lined streets on a beautiful, if sweltering, evening, that Independence Day was a really depressing holiday. The next thought, "Wait a minute. No the fuck it is not! There's nothing depressing about it at all." There's really not. It's just Black Tuesday, Razorblade Tuesday, whatever the fuck you want to call it, it's a misnomer because today is Wednesday, damnit, but of course your mileage may vary. Standard disclaimer. What did I expect, I rolled twice in the course of like, four days and my seratonin is probably at an all time low. At least that's something I can tell myself, "Hey, this is just a lack of brain chemicals, there's nothing REALLY wrong." :)

And it's all Jon's fault, not like I blame him for it, he didn't do it on purpose. It's his fault because he's lonely and often other people's emotions rub off on me. I wouldn't mind it at all if my feeling their pain would actually make them feel better, but I know that it doesn't, so what's the point of having two people feel bad instead of one? But what can you do...

So I went to Dillon's to get a veggie burger and a movie because Jon didn't get off until late and I didn't feel like dealing with other people. The burger: good. The movie: Made me more depressed because it's one of those where people end up happy at the end. And then I didn't feel like doing anything later tonight, especially since I have work tomorrow morning at like, 7 AM.

But on the bright side, I did get all my laundry done, I watched some Wimbledon, and I managed to not make myself throw up ice cream or play with razorblades. Which some days, that's all you can ask for.

I was in a Fourth of July parade. I know, I know, Big Freakin' Deal. Well, it was for me.

Allow me to explain. I don't like parades. The whole idea of sitting on the side of the road and watching people and vehicles move past me doesn't appeal to me in the slightest. I just don't get it. I've seen fire trucks while I'm driving around. I see marching bands at football games, and even then, I can't stand them. Why sit on the side of the road and watch them? When we're at Disney and the parades start, I run the other way.

Anywho, I got the job of driving the Gator behind the local high school marching band. My job was pretty simple. Follow the band and pickup anyone who passes out. Bring out your dead. Fortunately, none of the band members passed out or had any injuries, so my job was pretty easy.

Except when my fans saw me...

I was just driving the Gator and not looking at the crowds. I figured I was just backup for the band, and any action by myself would detract from the band. So, I just played it cool. I tried to keep about 10 to 15 feet behind the band and faced foward. Pay no attention to the man on the Gator. I was doing good until "Hey, kmcardle, Hey, Hey, kmcardle, Hey!". I was forced to turn and wave. For the most part, my fans were other band parents. I'd give a little wave, and be on my way. Then the group of just graduated band members saw me. "kmcardle!" "Lookin' sexy" (not that I minded that one) "kmcardle, yo!" "hey, it's kmcardle, look, it's kmcardle." It was one of those moments at a party when you say something just after the noise level has dropped and everyone turns to look at you for what you have just said. I of course, had said nothing, but it felt like every person watching the parade took that moment to stare at me. Just the paranoia acting up.

All in all, it was a good experience. The really neat part, for my inner geek was that the Gator in question was an E-Gator. All electronic. Great acceleration. Quiet as all get out. The only thing you hear when this thing moves is the sound of the tires rubbing on the road. Really cool.

And, when we got home, a two hour Junkyard Wars was on. Ahhhhhhhhhhh.

I had a great day today. Parked my art car outside of American Visionary Arts Museum and got oodles of compliments and people taking pictures. Some friends came down to see my car and cheer me on, my public debut as an artist. Wow! I'm calling myself an artist and not flinching, yet this is the first piece of work I've done in years. But it feels really, really good. I did it, it's not great art or anything, but I did do it and it makes people laugh and feel good for a minute. At least it did today. Maybe that's one of the purposes of art. I feel good, seeing people laugh at my creation.

My M. met G. (a woman I'm currently dating) and no fist fight ensued. M. left after only about five minutes, he could only take so much after all, but it broke some tension all around.

It was a little odd having G. around when we couldn't kiss or hold hands; we snuck down to the cloakroom in the basement of the museum and kissed for a couple of minutes. I felt like I was in kindergarten hiding from the teacher or something.

My friends and I entered the Mr. Potatohead contest. Mine was entitled Underwater Dreams with a sculpey dolphin on top of a black spray painted sweet potato encrusted with shiny buttons and sequins all over. Pretty bad, actually. My niece and her boyfriend came down too, and hers was Ethel, a Baltimore hon.

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