display | more...


C-Dawg's Week in Review


I called Nolan's girlfriend to ask her about how a plant that I once had sent to their house by Harry & David had arrived (i.e., in full bloom, an apparent pot of dirt, or something in between). I told her that I was considering sending something like that to my dentist's office, but didn't want to do so if it would be days or weeks before they could display it in the office. (Since they're on the sixteenth floor, they could hardly just set it outside the door until it was ready.) She remembered that I had to some degree attempted to socialize with a woman who worked there, which pleased me. She said it arrived in a suitable condition, and urged me to do it. She was quite adamant, actually.


I showed up bright and early at the dentist's office in Oxnard. I wimped out of sending the flowers.
(I have this odd problem: when I send someone a gift like
that, it can be hard for me to have them put a greeting on
the label, because it seems too much like requiring a
response of some kind, which I don't. Sometimes there are
other reasons, though. On the phone, Nolan's girlfriend
mentioned to me that it was odd that I hadn't put a message on
it -- the company had put just my name there, which I didn't
know they were going to do -- for which I apologized, but
said that leaving it blank was probably better than saying
what I reaaly would have liked to. She agreed.)

Instead, before going in, I waffled on the question of whether to bring in some Girl Scout cookies that I'd brought for that purpose; I finally decided to do so, and when I entered the office, nobody was in the reception area so I just left them on the desk.

After waiting a while in the dental chair, Dr. Razi, possibly the best dentist in the whole world, sneaked up behind me, gave me a short shoulder massage, and told me it's always a pleasure seeing me at the office (where I've been four times this year, but this was the last routine maintenance of my NightGuard; I won't be back until July for a cleaning).

Unfortunately, Seanette was not in the office; she wasn't there the last time I went, either. :(


After spending the whole day not asking him, I called Nolan in the evening to ask if I could take him to lunch the next day (Friday being his twenty-fifth birthday). His girlfriend answered the phone, and I confessed to the cookies-for-flowers swap, then she put on Nolan and he assented to the lunch plan.


Went to lunch with Nolan and had a great time. We went to a new sushi place two blocks off of State Street. (In Santa Barbara, if you're not on State Street, you're in the boonies.) A good deal, too: six pieces of nigiri, eight pieces of tuna roll, and soup for $10.

In the evening, while entering the supermarket, I came up behind a young lady in a long burgundy crushed velvet dress, with a black jacket, and softly said to her that it was a very nice outfit. She looked around, with a look of who the heck is that? on her face, then smiled and thanked me, while I noticed that she was very pretty also. That wasn't so hard!


Today, I have to put down in writing all the things I've been composing in my head the last few days. My dad sent an email to his three sons, lamenting the fact that our family unit is not as tight as it could be, and asking for his birthday that we all communicate with each other. My oldest brother (who I haven't seen in years, and hear from very infrequently) started off, and was quickly followed up by the middle one. That leaves it to me....


I got quite a bit done with the letter to my family, still have a lot to go. But today, I went geocaching for the first time. A guy at work started doing it a while ago with his wife (a natural offshoot of the monthly radiotransmitter hunt they engage in). I mentioned it to Edward, and he asked if he could go, too. Of course he was welcome (and when he joined us there, I (not for the first time) had my breath taken away by how beautiful he is). The cache was in the Douglas Family Preserve; unfortunately, we found it in about fifteen minutes after entering. I left a Mozart CD. Edward took a black bandana which he wore amazingly well with his camouflage pants and white t-shirt. :) I am assured that the next one will be harder....

Things I've learned lately

Here are some gustatory facts from a bachelor who doesn't cook:
  • There is a lot more lettuce in a head of Romaine than in a head of red leaf.
  • Belgian endive, while a change of pace, is crispy but has virtually no taste. One of the higher cost-to-benefit ratios that you can find in the produce section.
  • The Braeburn apple is a delicious addition to your apple repertoire. If you like Granny Smith, you'll probably like Braeburn even more; it's just as crispy and sweet, without Granny's slight acidity.

C-Dawg's Office Chessboard Cam
Current streak: 52 wins

I guess this is the forum to post my thanks for those that have /msg me about my last daylog on March 8, 2002. I have received some positve feedback and some negative and would like to thank everyone for their thoughts. It has made me realize people aren't as bad as I make them out to be overall.

So I guess keep up the work and lets try to keep the nodeshell clean and not vote cause we like the person but based on whether the information is correct, done well and informative.

You are not in my arms the way I want you to be. The obstacles you've put between us are a country apart. The forces that appear to surround us threaten to tear away all that we hold dear.


History is hard to believe at times like this. How must it be serious? What are your memories and your dreams? Tell me, but don't worry about me. Life is sweeter when you don't dwell on the negatives.

I am looking for you in places I do not think I was meant to. The laws of writing and continuity are being broken. They've always been broken. The story ended the moment you left me. It was merely one of many.

I am trying to find you again. Help me.

I am talking to you via Instant Messenger. It is not enough. I want you with me as we see the most inspirational wonders of all that was created and uncreated. I want to know you the way you loved me. Once.

I am afraid that you worry when there is nothing to worry about. You must know that by now, deep down, that it will be alright. I would lie for you.

Ok, here I go again.

So, what is with all the formal/wedding wear shops in Dublin anyway? I have never seen so many in my life! I mean, come on, I walk past them everyday, whether I am going to work or to lectures, and all they ever do is depress me.

I mean maybe that is my own fault, because I have been haunted by the whole Cinderella story since I was a kid.

Yeah, I'll admit it, I'll admit that when it really comes down to it, I am exactly the same as almost all the cheesy, romance obsessed girls out there.

Yes I am a victim, just like everybody else, and yes it will probably be the end of me.

I walk by these stores and I never fail to stop, sometimes for a quick second, sometimes for a long while. Most times all of a sudden I will find myself, standing there, staring at some gorgeous gown that some seamtress slaved over for hours.

And how do I feel? I feel empty, and I feel frustrated. Why? Well basically because I know that all that depresses me about the situation is rooted in, you guessed it, bullshit.

I know that I shouldn't give a damn about whether or not someday I will get to live the pathetic dream that lurks in the back of my brain. I know this, and yet I still long for that day more than many things.

I mean, it seems like my whole life I have been told that what I am is not good enough, and will never be good enough for anybody. My whole life I have been force-fed the pictures on magazine covers, the pathetic happy endings in movies, the insane and even more pathetic desire to be something and someone that I am not, and to want that.

I mean, why the fuck does that shit exist. Why do people feel the need to market, market, market. Sell, sell,sell. How is it possible that this shit still goes on? I mean isn't it obvious to the people that go to all this trouble to put a magazine, etc, together that, along with attempting to adhere to a small majority of individuals that look, act, blahblahblah, a certain way, that simultaneously they are saying to everybody that dsoesn't fit that description that they are not right. That there is something wrong with them and that they need to change in order to get accepeted and in order to live "that dream."

The whole fucking system is completely ridiculous. And I hate more than anything that I continue to allow myself to fall victim to its influence.

But back to the shops, I guess I just wish that they would go away. I know I am only thinking of myself, and I suppose anyone that might feel the same way, but maybe they could all just relocate to a specific sector of town. "Happiville" they could call it, or maybe, "Where to go if you think you are happy and content and planning to get married." Yeah, that would make my life a lot easier. That would prevent me from wanting to curl up into a little ball of pathetic self-centeredness everytime I walk by. That would make, forgetting about that stupid illusion that haunts me on a day to day basis a little easier. Yeah, I definately wish they would all just go away.

Ok, I am done now. That is enough for today. After all, writing about all of this, just makes me think about it even more.

It's gorgeous out. Spring is getting ready to have sprung, and I did my part in my little walkway garden; I cleaned out all of the dead leaves and dead, last-year's-growth of lavender and iris and phlox and random annuals that had been just sitting there, looking grey and brown, old and used up. The crocus are already at it, purple and white and gold. (Aren't those the colors the Christian church is displaying/will display for Easter? Hmmm. Copying nature again...)

The daffodils have buds, and a few of the more adventurous strains have already opened, and the tulip leaves are there, to indicate where the patches of red and pink and white will be later. It's neat how there's a progression to the blooming; not like in the movie The Secret Garden where everything flowered at once (it was a good movie, anyway).

Mucking around in my "little patch of earth" always makes me think about cycles; my own moods and interests, and the much more universal turnings of the seasons... All those quotes come to mind...

To every thing (turn, turn, turn) There is a season (turn, turn, turn)... and a time to every purpose under the heaven A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted; A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up; A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance; A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing; A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away; A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak; A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace. ~Ecclesiastes 3:1-8*, except for the "turn, turn" part, who sang that, anyway?


Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning. ~Psalms 30:5*


e.e. cummings' (listen)

I'm just glad to live in a place where there are seasons. They help me remember that things pass, and heal, and we all get a chance to start over.


*There seems to me to be a universality to these quotes that goes beyond one faith. I'm not even Christian; I was just raised that way. But maybe it's just me.

Thanks to Familiar Quotations by John Bartlett...

I'm blasting Sonic Youth to drown out the boy acrossed the halls "Experimental Music." I'm feeling a little pretentious about it. But he was more pretentious when he told me that he is an "Experimental Musician," and that is why he plays a child's accordian at 4 am.

I'm not sure why, but it seems that all of my friends crash at one time. They all go crazy with stress and anxiety at the same time. And by the time I've talked to them all, I have a hard time sounding sympathetic any more. But, I really do feel horrible about it. I think its the worst with my roommate, because I have to hear about it everyday. I would like to remain sympathetic, but its starting to drive me crazy with annoyance.

I just don't talk about things like that. I just go crazy inside until I get sick of feeling that way, then, usually, I get over it. Her worries are the same as mine: got too drunk, did embarrassing things; don't know what to do with life; uninspired to do homework or photography; parents being assholes; friends acting strangely; etc etc etc. Maybe it is better to talk about it. Myabe I'm just a bitter ice queen. But, I'm a bitter chunk of ice that is about to shatter and say things I'll regret.

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