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My lease is ending on the 1st. I have to find a place that will accept 2 dogs (welll 2 dogs and 3 cats...but I won't mention the cats lest I never get a place.). Somewhere in there I have to replace a carpet that ebony killed those couple weeks after frasier was put down and before I got the new dog. Making myself sound like a wonderful roomie / tenant aren't I? note to self: putting one dog to sleep can have unpredictable consequences. Actually my dogs are really quite calm and non-destructive (so long as there are 2 of them). I feel like shit about the carpet since my landlord is excellent. if only he was an ass hole I could say fuck it and take it outta the security deposit.

/me sighs... I'm so fucked.

Anyone need a roomie? Anyone wanna move to Boston on the first? I'm not kidding here. I'm paying $1500 for a dinky ass place right now... ok it's a great place but it's still puny. I want to get a nice 2 or 3 bedroom. I'd be willing to split a place that cost up to $3000 if it were nice enough. Anyone? Anyone? This is your chance to live with a real honest to goodness masu. please please

You know you want to. Everybody's doing it.

masukomi @ (no spaces)

so yeah that's my chunk for the day. downvote away... you know you want to.

Not much has changed to me since May 1, 2001.
I still shower every morning, I still don’t litter, I still don’t smoke, I still like the taste of peanut butter, I am still not obsessed with dairy products, I still don’t answer natures call in the ally, I still pronounce the letter ‘h’ and I still add ‘eh’ to the ends of all my interrogative sentences.
I saw Bob Dylan.
For the third time on May 1st, 2001. He was great, as usual.
One thing that I find amusing is everyone I talked to who thought I was crazy for spending $30 on a ticket to see Bob said something like "He's just going to stand there, not smile, and grunt his songs out for 2 hours then leave."
Basically, Bob did the opposite. He shook his ass when he played guitar, he smiled alot (not alot, but alot for Bob Dylan), and he sung pretty damn clear.

But that's me talking, and I'm an immense Bob fan.
Bob did "If Dogs Run Free" which made me really happy, plus he did my least favorite songs of his, Maggies farm (which was recently covered by Rage Against the Machine) and Rainy Day Women (otherwise know as "that Everybody must get stoned song"). Amazingly, both these songs were pretty good, I liked them alot more than their album versions.
At the show, some stupid woman next to me kept on yelling "Hurricane!!" (asking for the song about Ruben Carter, the boxer wrongly convicted of murder, and the inspiration for the Denzel Washington movie of the same name). I looker right at her after about the thrid time she yelled it (she yelled really loud too), and told her "Look that is a seven and a half minute song on the album so it would be like ten minutes long live, plus there is a woman back up singer on that album and there is a very important violin part in that song" I pointed at the stage and she followed my finger with her eyes "Do you see a woman or a fucking violin on that stage? He's not doing Hurricane!"
I wanted Bob to do Lily, Rosemary, and the Jack of Hearts, but I didn't yell it out, because I know it has a fiddle in it, and he's not going to do a 6 minute long song (that will take 10 minutes live), and he especially isn't going to do a song without a key instrument.

Other than the annoying bitch next to me, it was a perfect show.

Sarah (my -ex who recently told me off once and for all) saw my Dad at the Bob show (which is peculiar, because she always bitched about how he "can't sing"), and told him to tell me "Hi".
Sarah, if you ever read this, consider my "Fuck You" a hello.

I finished my The Meaning of Life node, which I've been working on for a while, and has alot of different meanings to me, so I suggest you read it, like it, upvote it, C! it, fall in love with me for it, and end up stalking me because of it.

I also went to see Granola Funk Express on April 29, 2001. They were great as usual, and they are about to wrap up their tour, so hopefully they will be playing a few more local shows, since their hometown is my hometown. GFE really makes me appreciate Asheville, NC for the great town it is. I think about how it would be for me if I lived in Winston Salem, NC, with nothing to do but go clubbing. I believe that if I lived there I would think that "hip hop" was Jay-Z or Ja Rule.
No, hip hop is GFE, hip hop is local kids who love to grab a mic, hip hop is groups of DJ's who like to do gigs because they can test out their collections of wax, not some guy with a blurred out logo on his rap video on Mtv.
I've just been accepted to the Brick Playhouse here in Philly--I'm gonna be a recognized playwright! You've no idea what this means to me, you really don't. Christ, I feel so damn fantastic, I can't even describe it.


I just checked my email, and there it was:

Subj: Brick submission and reading
Date: 5/2/01 10:01:44 PM Eastern Daylight Time
From: xxxxxx
To: [me]

Hi, xxxx from the Brick here.

Read your play, is fine for membership, cool.
Tell me: was this play only for your application, or did you want it read at the Brick on a Tuesday night? (The remaining slots this year are filling fast, so let me know asap.)

Having just read liminal's w/u below, I suddenly see how easy I've got it. "Why do I feel like it's Germany 1933?" Maybe it's not that bad, but my God, if we can't even walk down the street... This hits home, because I'm from Philly, where the cops when apeshit over the Republican Convention and decided to arrest anyone young, white, and on the street. Not much different from their normal activities, only they switched from blacks and Latinos to whites. Dontcha just love the Constitution?

So this year for May Day I went out and got myself shot with rubber bullets and arrested to commemorate the Haymarket Riots.

This is what happened:

I went to a demonstration down in Long Beach, not knowing that the Long Beach Police Department is second only to the Massad in anti-terrorist tactics. I hadn't heard a lot about the event other than that last year's had involved a lot of street theater. When I got there, just about everyone was in black bloc, and as I had a camera, was dressed for the job interview I'd just come from, and had never seen cops go out of control on a large scale, I decided to stay and observe, but not to march.

The black bloc started marching in the street, with a lot of folks not up for illegal actions on the sidewalks along with observers and people filming or taking photos. I was on the sidewalk, with the other journalists. The cops lined up opposite the banner, and started attacking it with batons. The black bloc turned around and started marching the other way. Variations on the same theme repeated a few times until the demonstration, including the black bloc, people on the sidewalk, observers and journalists were surrounded by the police. Anyone trying to get past the line of cops was attacked. Then something went wrong and the black bloc panicked, taking everyone else with it. The cops fired rubber bullets and beanbags into the crowd, then charged. I ended up running so as not to get trampled by the police, and as I turned to run, I caught a burst of rubber bullets full on. I was hit from my lower back to a little above my knees. All the demonstrators hit the ground so as not to be fired upon anymore, and the police arrested everyone en masse. The charges were failure to disperse, although I never heard an order given to disperse, and conspiracy to commit something, some kind of crime I can't remember what. The former is a misdemeanor, the latter a felony. My bail was set at $500.

A cop searched my bag while another cop twice my size threatened me with a baton. They put riot cuffs on me and took me over to a van, the second of many, where another cop took down my name and birthdate. When I asked for my bag back, I was told to get in the van and that it would come down later.

At the station, we were taken out of the van and shackled together, separated by gender. Our booking papers were put on us, to ease the process for the police. I started asking for medical attention. After a while, I was unchained from my fellow prisoners and taken in to start the booking process. They told me that the nurse was on her way but stuck in traffic. They decided not to take me to the hospital. I was taken into a room with about 20 demonstrators and a lot of cops. A cop took down more of my information (address, phone, emergency contacts, employer), made me an ID bracelet with a bar code on it, and put my personal belongings into a bag, which was then heat-sealed.

Next I was taken up to the women's jail, got fingerprinted, mugshots taken, and they photographed my injuries. They attached my ID bracelet to my arm. I was issued a blanket, paper cup, tiny toothbrush and sample size toothpaste and sent onto the cell block. All the other women on my block were demonstrators, which was a bonus.

I was calling to get bail set up and a ride home when the nurse showed up. I was allowed off the cell block and stripped out of my clothes under the supervision of a female officer while the nurse cleaned my wounds with hydrogen peroxide and put big band aids on them. My tights were full of holes and pressing on the wounds, so I threw them out.

After a while, the women on my cell block started getting called off one at a time. When it was my turn, an officer read me the Miranda warning, asked me if I knew why I was there, and asked me if I'd be willing to answer questions. I was lightheaded and starting to be disoriented from stress and dehydration. I declined to answer questions, and told her that I was still bleeding.

I was put in a cell with low benches around three sides of it with the other women from my cell block. I had blood trickling down my legs, and this was probably four hours after I'd been shot. I bled on the bench. I was called out of the room and taken to the emergency room, where I found out that I had the worst injuries after the folks with broken bones. I got to see my wounds for the first time in the hospital bathroom, while a female officer watched me piss. I have, at best count, 12 distinct wounds from the beanbags or rubber bullets or whatever they shot at me. I lay on a hospital bed for two hours before a doctor looked at my wounds, and another hour or so before they were treated.

After I was taped up, the cops cuffed me again and took me back to jail. When I asked about my bag again, I was told that there was no way to find out at this time of night, and that I'd have to ask in the morning. They issued me another set of stuff and put me in a cell. I curled up and slept, uneasy in the warm recycled air. I do not remember dreaming.

Around 4 am I awoke to the sound of the cell block doors opening and the door to my cell sliding back. An officer came in and told me that my bail had been posted. She took me out to the front area, fingerprinted me again, first on someone else's sheet, then on mine, and sent me down to reclaim my property. I asked about my bag again and was told to come back during business hours. The cop who gave me my stuff back directed me to the front of the building, where my friends found me. I don't think I've ever been so happy to see anyone in my life. They took me home, driving back the next day to deal with the bail bond paperwork and to get my bag back.

If there is anything that should be in a day log, it's whats going on in the world. I'll be keeping the top headlines from around the world here. If there are any sources I'm not using that you recommend, please /msg me. If you are downvoting me because you think this shouldn't be here, please /msg me with your reasons. I'm listening.

Without further ado, here is today's top news from around the world:

The BBC's Top Headlines:

The New York Times' Top Headlines

Asia Daily Top Headlines

  • EU, North Korea Leader Hold Talks
    North Korean President Kim Jong Il began talks in Pyongyang Thursday with visiting European officials led by Swedish Prime Minister Goeran Persson about his mystery-cloaked missile program and tension between North and South Korea.
  • Bush sending envoy to argue NMD case
    South Korean civic group members shout slogans during an anti-U.S. rally opposing the U.S. missile policy " NMD and TMD" in front of the U.S. Embassy building in Seoul, Thursday,
  • China Landslide Kills 65
    Hundreds of police and soldiers have found 65 bodies as they cleared away about two-thirds of the rubble from a nine-story apartment building buried by a landslide
  • Japan Seeks Change in Constitution
    Swept into office on promises of economic reform, Prime Minister Junichiro Koizumi is now taking his campaign for change to a document that hasn't been touched in decades: the constitution.
  • Pentagon Reviews Contacts With China
    The Pentagon further complicated an already tense relationship with China by first stating that Defense Secretary Donald H. Rumsfeld had suspended all contacts with the Chinese military.
  • Army Drops China-Made Berets Plan
    Army soldiers won't be wearing Chinese-made black berets, after all.
  • Pakistan Blasts US Terrorism Report
    Calling a State Department report on terrorism flawed and contradictory, Pakistan on Wednesday said it opposes terrorism in all forms.
  • Quake Jolts Southern Indonesia
    An earthquake with a 5.2 magnitude jolted part of Indonesia's Sumatra island early Wednesday, the Meteorology and Geophysics Agency official said.

What a gorgeous day yesterday was. During my lunch break, I got a small sandwich, ate it outside, and spent the rest of break napping in the warm shade of a little tree.

When I was back at work, I found a nodeshell with the title I mean these words come out of him like the right music. It inspired me to write about a friend on whom I seem to have a bit of a crush. Got upvoted, downvoted, upvoted again. So interesting to see how voting works at this place...

C. met me at work as I was finishing up for the day, and we walked and rode our bikes to a small reservoir on the outskirts of town. As we approached, I recognized my housemates' voices mixing with the sounds of splashing water, and as we climbed up to the rim, we found two of my housemates and some other friends swimming in the reservoir. We both stripped and jumped in as the others were getting out. The cold water was a shock to my skin, but it was refreshing, especially after spending the day in the un-airconditioned office. The water was really cold, though, as it is still so early in the season, and we both got cold pretty quickly. I got out first, and from the water, C. called to me and said through chattering teeth, "I think my tits are gonna fall off!"

As we were getting out, we ran into yet more housemates and friends, who were also coming to get in a before-dinner swim. We got back in with them, and played around in the water some more, until we were so cold we were shivering in the 70 degree early evening sun.

Shitty evening class, then onto rehearsal for a friend's senior recital. I got suckered into carrying furniture, but it's OK, since he needs help, and he's a good buddy.

Went over to C.'s place, intending to just stop by and say hi, but kinda ended up staying much later.

Today, I have a tale that will make you cringe in abject horror. It is the tale of the

Creepy Lotto Guy!

So, I'm hanging out with my friend from Clark, when her roomate decides to go to bed. Rather than hang around Clark, we hopped in my car and drove to Webster Square Plaza (in Worcester) and parked there. We were just chatting when all of a sudden, this skeezy guy pulls up in a beat up car with his windows rolled down.

He leans over and says, "Hey, I'm sure you two want to be alone (we're just friends, she's dating one of my buddies, but that's largely irrelevant) but, see, I have this problem..."

I become wary, but am mildly curious. "Oh?" I reply.

"Yeah, see, I just put my last $2 in my car, and see, the lottery machines close at 11pm and they don't turn them on until 6am the next morning..."

I look at my car's clock. It's 3:40am. "Uh... okay, and..?"

"Well, I dunno, do either of you guys have any cash? I have like $30 in winning scratch tickets, I'll sell them to you for, oh, I dunno... $20?"

"No, sorry, man, I'm broke.. all I have is loose change.."

And then he turns his car off, gets out, and walks over to my window. I lock the doors, and he leans in, the cigarette butt hanging out of his mouth stinging my nose. "See, right here, you just have to beat your opponent's score, 118-99.. that's a winner, right on down the line like that.. you sure you can't do anything with these?"

"Yeah, man, sorry...."

He gets back in his car and leans over again. "Are you kids stranded here or something?"

"Nope." I start my car and peel out of the parking lot. We pull up to the light at Park and Main... and HE pulls up on the other street at the SAME light. So we book it down to Walgreen's (a pharmacy) which is open 24/7, figuring that a place with some actual customers will be slightly less sketchy than a deserted parking lot. I pull into a space, and turn off my car, and we're not there 2 minutes before some lady pulls up in a space a few cars over from us. She gets out and heads for the store when the SAME SKEEZY GUY pulls up beside her! We turn on the car again and turn onto Park Avenue, just about at the same time the lady has finished telling him off. He pulls out behind us, and by this time, my Clark-friend and I are just about scared witless.

I step on the gas and we cruise through downtown Worcester at about 75, figuring that if a cop pulls us over, at least we'll be safe, and we can tell him our scary story. We get on the highway and book it to my apartment, lock the door and breath a sigh of relief.

What a freak!

Last night I had a premonition that today would suck
First of all, it’s a beautiful day outside. But, more centrally, I am dreading a knock-down drag-out telephone conversation with my ex-girlfriend. I admit, I have wanted for some time to say to her "you are dead to me", but how can you turn away from seven years of close friendship? Further, she still has most of my novels, all of my CDs, and my favorite cooking equipment. Begins to sound like a country song written by a graduate student, don’t it?
It’s hard to justify to myself the number of times I have put myself through the wringer over her (or even, the number of prepositional clauses in this sentence). It must be time by now to stop playing nice and getting hurt, and to excise this emotional cancer.

Today was not a Tube strike but I'd already planned my week as if it were going to be. So I teleworked.

Usually, my laptop crashes, my ISDN line fails and I can't get a PSTN connection to the mainframe. Today, however, despite some apparent contention on the mainframe connection, everything went incredibly well. I got everything I'd planned done and more. None of the nefarious security restrictions got in the way (uh, okay, I know some workarounds that aren't strictly kosher).

The only downside is I need somewhere nicer to work... which brings us back to the major rewiring work I mentioned at the weekend. Some day in the future, I'll be able to telework from my desk, rather than a table in the bedroom. Then my back won't ache!

You know, I feel so bad for actually going back to "yesterday" on the daylogs. But since May 4th hasnt actually came for me yet, I guess everyone will understand.

I am so out of noding, ever since I hit the EXP requirement for Level 3, my noding has just went downhill. I need 20-some writeups, I used to do that in maybe 2 weeks, now I'd be lucky to do 1 in a week.

Why? you may ask, well hell I'm asking myself that. I love E2, its as addictive as Everquest. But I haven't found any inspiration to do any nodes in quite awhile. /me smacks self for not noding like a good boy.

Lalala, I think i'll go to bed now. So until tommorow, good-night E2

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