Saturday, October 06, 2001
|12:23 PM| The best and the worst
What's the worst part of clinical depression, for me? The way it makes me feel. What's the best part? The way it makes me feel.
When I'm depressed, or down, or something gets to me, it's amplified a thousand times in my head. It's fixated upon and all rational thought is lost. I feel like I'm falling down the stairs. I'm tumbling and I'm helpless but if I stick out an arm it'll be snapped as if it was dry and rotted internally. I fall, hopelessly through space for a few moments before smashing into the next landing and being catapulted further. It just doesn't stop and there doesn't seem to be an end. It's totally unreasonable. I can keep telling myself that there are bigger and more important things to worry about but I can't seem to get past this wall that has formed on either side of my tumbling mind. I wake up on the kitchen floor, unsure of what to do.
Sometimes, the opposite will happen. Strength and confidence will be magnified a thousand times. I stand up and I feel a rush of pure will ripple through me. Any task is dashed against me. I feel as if I am a force, a power, the celts called it a "warp spasm" and it's just another chemical imbalance in my head. My legs are tree trunks, my arms are steam shovels. I open my mouth and belch diesel exhaust. As I carried the bookshelf out of my apartment, I surveyed the parking lot. Had I wanted, I would only have needed to grab one of the cars there to flip it. I could have dug into the asphalt itself and buried the complex beneath it. Surely with such energy I could complete the task of moving in an hour. An hour and a half later I woke up in the closet, staring at the ceiling. I had moved some things, but I had again lost it and ended up asleep.
Ugh. With my tasks complete, and needing only to sneak the Hecubus computer out of this apartment, I'm beginning to feel weak again. I think I'll go sleep for about 20 hours. Hope you folks have a good day.
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|12:12 PM| I was just leaving.
Geez. I'm finallydone with everything. I sneaked back into my old apartment, because it's the only place with a live cable connection. Due to the sudden notice and change of apartments, I'm without phone or cable. It's a drag.
Yes, yes, internet addict and all that. but I was quite crazy for a little while. I keep calling the damn doctors office, I'm getting desperate, and all I get is the answering service. I suppose I could say it's an emergency, but it's still going to be 3 weeks or so after I start this process before it starts to work. As long as I keep stuffing a quarter dose of my ADD medication every couple hours I do alright. No more passing out and waking up on my kitchen floor or whatever. I do hope the apartment complex people didn't find me like that, sprawled out with cleaning supplies in my hand, next to cat vomit. "That's not mine...." I'm sure no tours saw me though, they'd clean this place first. "Does the sweaty guy on the floor come with the apartment?" I woke up with such odd things in my hands, like a padlock clutched tightly in one fist. I don't know why.
I wrote a couple updates when I still had internet access, and though at the time my rational mind was almost fully on vacation, it managed to get in control enough to have me delete them before posting. they were not cool.
However, I was reading "how the Irish saved civilization" and the author was talking about ancient Irish literature. 2 quotes in there stuck in my head. One was "friendly thighs" which came from a chapter on strong female characters in Irish folklore. and the other is "warp-spasm" which was the transformation of emotions that took place during battle, or at least how the celts described it. The stories of it have the change being a physical one, but the descriptions really fit the supposed mental change.
Christ, I can't tell how much I've written, this monitor is too small. I'll write what I was inspired to write after I read about warp spasms in just a second.
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Friday, October 05, 2001
|1:26 AM| What the hell are you doing? Well, I'm dehydrated for one thing. What I thought was my A/C going out turned out to be my body signalling "hey, you're really being stupid". It (the party body of the first part) decided that I should be nauseous and lose my balance. Once I stopped falling around my house, I went and did the dorky thing of drinking water slowly and futzing around with my computer.
Helluva a day. And I do mean "The past 24 hours, give or take". Privacy prohibits such things from being slashed across a website for all to see. It just seems that some days have more on their agenda then others. Sure, the tiny events of my life and those around me may pale in the light of other, larger, more pressing and dangerous issues, but it's what we have as far as lives and I'm going to take them seriously. Criminy, I'm obviously a bit out of it, I apologize. The past week has seen me with about 3-4 hours of sleep a night, with no chance to nap at work. Things have been done, issues resolved. But the issues continue to flow in. I turn a corner and there are a dozen waiting for me. I'm not frustated or angry. But being embroilled in such things is not what one would call enjoyable.
That's 5 minutes. Vorpal said take 10. Ugh. More water to be shot out of my skin as fast as I drink it.
A possible purpose of life may be the pursuit or enjoyment of love. And I'm implying any kind in there. Emotional attachment, rutting like animals, long distance ties, hopefully it's all growing and developing as a person with the help of someone else. I can say for certain that as far as pain goes, you've got broken bones near the top, kicks to the groin in the upper reaches, really bad spasms or cramps across the board....but it's the damn emotional turmoils that seem to last the longest, and cause the most harm. Sure, that's cliched, or just really damned obvious. But right now my arms hurt like a bitch. They are making it nearly impossible to type or pack or do anything useful, and they are almost the only thing I can think about. In a couple minutes, maybe a couple hours, that pain will fade and I won't even remember it by 3pm tommorow. But I'll still come home to an empty house, and that can bother you anywhere, and any time. Shit. I've gone over my alotted time. I'm rambling anyway. Once more into the living room.
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Thursday, October 04, 2001
|5:15 PM| Is this...Goodbye for now?
CURSES! Thanks to various weird crap at work and home, I am sitting here on the internet claiming that this may be it for internect connectivity for a while. I'll have the crap connection at work but it's getting so that I have 0 time to putz around up there. I guess that's for the best. Yeah, losing my high speed internet connection for a little while is going to really suck, since socializing costs MONEY. Sure, I'll get out of the house but I'll be an even BIGGER lamprey then I was before! Impossible, you say? NO! For only 19.95 you get the complete Cecil package, including plaintive late night calls, oddly written I.O.U's, stupendous check kiting and MORE.
Sorry, my drugs have worn off and the stress is high so I'm simply moving faster and faster. I should still be able to update this site from work every so often, so my ego will be stroked. Excellent. But this is an ever more humor free update than usual, as soon enough I will have the keys to the new place and I will be able to start moving stuff. The computer network will probably go last, you know, in case of an internet emergency.
If you have my cell phone, you can call it or something. In case you really actually NEED a hit of Cecil. Wake and Ceciling. I don't know for certain, but a Ceciling Fan should reduce energy costs.
Additional, a friend of mine seems to be going through a rough time of it, and he has cut himself off it seems. I don't know if he'll see this... I'm worried a bit about you, sir. I know you can probably take care of yourself or whatever is going on, but keep in touch if you need anything.
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|2:06 AM| It's 3:00am. Do you know where your work ethic is?
Criminy. This place still isn't ready to go. How the hell am I going to pull this one off? Ah. I know. The biggest issue, and really the only issue facing me right now is that my apartment is on the third floor. Everything in my apartment breaks down into easy to carry pieces, except for my sort-of antique chest of drawers. That may prove troublesome. I may end up sawing it apart and putting it back together later. Luckily I do not own a couch. I hope that time in the weightroom makes a noticable difference or I might be in trouble. Anyway, it's shaping up to be a long day. I have to get a couple hours of sleep before work or I'm toast.
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Wednesday, October 03, 2001
|8:32 PM| Got the $20. Got the apartment. Got just about everything on my job list done. A job list is not really a list until it's at least 6 items long. I don't think I've finished an entire job list in over a year. Today's unscratched entries were "Call the Blood and Tissue Center" and "Move out" I guess the second one can be excused. Monday is when I head to the Red Cross in order to learn how to help them. An orientation class. I'm sure that some of the volunteers are going back to their normal routines. I may be a bit slow, but I'm sure they could use a second wind of a kind. I'm all about being the re-inforcements. The blood and tissue center merely craves my O+ blood for various reasons. I've heard the Japanese believe that a person's blood type can influence their personality. I think I'll read up on that. First, I must finish "How the Irish saved Civilization".
That reminds me! I am now an incredible fan of P.G. Woodhouse and I have only read the first 40 pages of "The Inimitable Jeeves". I started reading it while waiting for my car's oil to get changed and I was hooting and hollering like a fool. A fool that fufills the PROPHECY. I'm going to have to track down my copy of "The importance of being Earnest". No, it's not by Woodhouse but I didn't read it at the same time that I didn't read this Jeeves book. Perhaps I was in the wrong mindset. Especially since I had to read "'Earnest" in the space of 3 hours before a test. Ah well.
Before Posting these links I'd like to point out a previous article title with "mind" and "weak" in the title. I'm not going to be a weak mind'r on this one, I was just interested in the beliefs.
Yikes! The red on this page must have been some kind of blood joke. I know that a couple cappillaries burst in my face when it loaded.
Ah well, more horoscope stuff. You can see patterns in everything eventually. Everyone wants to see the postive in themselves. Very few horoscopes or Tarot readings I've seen/had have ever drawn out the negatives. "Ah! I see that you are easlity duped. You were born under the Chump star....would you like to buy a car?"
Oh, that reminds me. I know there was a book with "Cold Read" in it's title. I can't seem to find it on Amazon. It is very old, and it is the system by which you give a "fortune telling". At it's basic level you are watching for reactions on the other person and extracting what they want to hear in that fashion. Very old, still used today. I don't trust my Amazon search skills. It took me 2 days to realize that the book I was looking for was "Imagining Argentina" not "Dreaming Argentina". Blarg.
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|12:27 AM| No Mr. Dukes, I expect you to die!
I keep meaning to find a limit to keep a day's entries to, like word rationing. But then I remembered that anyone who doesn't want to read all of this can simply stop. However, I would like to condense a bit, and find more and more pure strains of humor. The end result would be entries consisting of three words that sum up my mood, as well as hopefully being humorous.
I won $20 off of a friend of mine. I bet him that he couldn't go through two weeks without smoking. I was really hoping he'd win, a real "am I my brother's keeper" situation. However, even my constant threats and taunting did not instill enough competetive spirit, and only two days into the bet, I am $20 richer. As soon as he gives me the bill, that is. For the time being, I give up. Plan B is removing one of his lungs.
The same nice fellow who made the new banner has also kindly offered to redesign this page. He has a whole mess of talent, and like any artist I've known it needs to be fed. It just so happens that his need to express himself has surged forth in the direction of this web page. Much like I lurch violently toward ginger snaps. Hopefully there will be a prototype up and running. It's easier to read, it looks slicker, and I really dig it. Hmmm ginger snaps. Pardon me.
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Tuesday, October 02, 2001
|5:33 PM| CURRENT RENTAL SIR! CURRENT RENTAL!
4:25PM, Round Rock Texas Call placed to Shadow Oaks. The answer on current lease: "Nope! Sorry! You have two bounced checks on your history and you've turned your rent in late too many times" (This has now doomed Cecil. He needed his half of the huge referral bonus that was going to be awarded to a friend of his. Not to mention, that friend needs it to pay his rent. He doesn't panic, he remains rational)
"But, that's not really possible. After a single bounced check they wouldn't take any other checks. How can I have 2 bounced checks?"
"..."
"Can I fix it?"
"Nope! Not without (Long string of items)"
"Wait, you said 'Last 6 months' I've been in Austin almost 3 years. Can't you look at that? You mean you only see 6 months? What if I prove that I had a previous 10 month lease that was squeaky clean? Okay. I can certainly prove that!"
4:59PM Cecil leaves Dell parking lot at a speed approaching 15 miles an hour. In rush hour traffic, this is only possible by passing through solid matter.
5:15PM Austin A call placed to previous apartment complex, continued as he walks in their door. Manager: Yes, we show your lease. Yes, clean history for 10 months. No, I can't send it, not without that complex faxing us first.
5:35PM Austin Call placed again to Shadow Oaks. Instead of manager, an underling is reached. The story has changed. It no longer matters what his previous history was, these past 6 months are all that matter. Cecil maintains a perfectly calm voice. The underling is becoming more and more flustered at rational arguments, and begins to simply repeat the words "CURRENT LEASE!" over and over. Cecil knows he is keeping a perfectly calm voice because she hasn't hung up on him.
5:45PM Call is continued. Cecil is currently driving toward his current apartment well in excess of posted limits in a desperate attempt to find a place to live. He knows he can handle it, he just hopes his car can as well. It has become clear that Cecil cannot get around the underling, and all reasonable questions are now met with incoherent babbling. At this point, the brain of the underling snaps and she begins ranting about worshippng Gali-Ma and tasting the flesh of fallen Angels. Cecil is still careful to politely thank the person for their time, and say goodbye. He hangs up as the screams and fire noises start bursting from the phone.
5:58PM Cecil, knowing he is the last thing anyone in his current apartment complex's office wants to see (a resident) politely asks for help. The considerate staff listen to his story while doing their best to hide glances toward the door. It is quickly determined that Cecil is pretty screwed, but if he wants to move into a smaller apartment on the third floor, he is quite welcome. And wow, it's just as much as he was about to go pay at some place that worships the Great Old Ones.
6:10PM Cecil is officially saved. Other than a single "F" word uttered when a light changed at an inopportune time, he has been a model of reasonable and controlled reaction. He is most proud of that, but having a place to stay doesn't hurt, either.
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|8:17 AM| I am trying to stand on the edge of change, and new beginnings. Whether this is fortunate or not, it would appear that all beginnings and endings of particular beliefs are very arbitrary. Nothing turns on or off in my head, I flow from one state to the next. It's difficult for me to know if I've changed unless I leave some indicators of past behavour behind. That way I can look back and see how far, or how short, I've come along in development. Right now what I'm trying to do is be better at learning from mistakes. I still make the same ones, and now I'm on the lookout. So that's what's happening. I'm sure I can get some help from folks if I start to go down the same old paths.
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|1:17 AM| Sam and Max game!
SCORE.
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Monday, October 01, 2001
|9:38 PM| Well, broke down and called my doctor, sometimes I call him dad. Told him about the bump on the head, the cleaning solution, and the fact that my guts seem to be having a helluva party without inviting me. All the standard questions, but the boring truth is the damn belly I tote around just HURT and that's it. The short of it is I'm going to be just fine. Acid overproduction and some irritated back of the throat. Good. He told me to eat graham crackers and avoid greasy foods for 24 hours.
Tonight is paper work night. I'm going to have to take a picture of my "inbox" which is the area beneath my dinner table, currently a developing monument for paper use reduction. I found a recycling center, just down the road. If I can I'm taking some of this and my cans over there. I abuse the planet enough, no need to rub it in.
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|5:47 PM| Mysticism can be the sign of a weak mind
I kicked today right in the rear end. I ran dispatch like a pro, started on the most annoying reports that we file and made some headway, I hacked some Adobe drivers into doing their jobs on some W810s... It was great. I walked around the halls with a big grin on my mug. I really hope the ammonia didn't do something to my precious brain.
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|1:47 AM| The debate is this. Go to bed, so that work is possible, or stay up all night? From past experience, I lose spiritual momentum when I stop, even to sleep. I know that if I stay up all night I will pay for it later, and this will likely interfere with my moving. This will be a test, of sorts. Yes, I am going to bed, will I be able to go back to work with the fervor that got more done in 2 and a half hours then I've gotten done in 2 weeks?
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|1:14 AM| Donk. And then the truth was clear
I'm waiting for the mop job I did to dry a bit. I have to go and rinse it out when it's done. About 2 hours ago (possibly more) I hit myself in the head, though not on purpose. I was cleaning stuff out of the fridge in quick sharp movements and one of these misjudged where the door to the freezer was. I probably missed by about half an inch, but the location of the impact must have been on some very sensitive part. I felt the pain as if it was a solid steel beam dropped from space. I staggered, and tried to walk if off, to continue cleaning. Everything went a little bizzare and I sat down. Then I laid down, and stared at the ceiling. I felt my mouth open, while listening to the noise my fridge makes as it cools.
Nothing passed through my head for a while. In this altered state, I managed to find a voice, and spoke to myself. I was then able to get up and I haven't stopped working since. Not until now.
I can't say I came to any mind altering conclusions. Not yet. I'll see how the week progresses and then I will know.
The floor should be dry enough by now. It's an interesting kind of day.
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Sunday, September 30, 2001
|4:48 PM| Ammonia covered hands do not a good handshake make
Went to the grocery store to get cleaning supplies and....Sobe. That most dangerous of juice drinks. Dangerous to me because coupled with my medication I can spend at least 3 days awake without impossible effort
Saw another half pack of cigarettes sitting next to a lighter. Obviously someone forgot to take their smokes with them Or did they? Could they have decided on the spot to quit? Another notable instance of a sudden smoker disappearence was when I was walking along a cliff late one night with friend. We came to another incredible view off of another outcropping of rock. We stared out over the void, and then I noticed the pack of cigs and lighter at the edge. The view below us was obscured by bushes and rocks, so we called down to make certain some smoker hadn't fallen off the edge. The night had been so quiet up until that point that I felt wrong for yelling. The first couple trys came out chocked and nearly silent. When no one replied, my friend smoked the cigarettes and we used the lighter to light our way back home.
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|3:50 PM| bugle, boggle, and a music boxxle.
Cleaning and packing for my move. Highlights thus far: Shitload of old comic books. I picked up a few at random, and boy, do they suck. One actually had "Budda Budda Budda" in there, and I'll let you guess if it was a racist, bad accented character saying "butter" or a sound effect for a gun. I also found copies of "Doom" and "Doom 2" on floppy. If anyone wants 'em, you can have 'em. Still in the original box, no less. I've got tons of crap, and I need to throw so very much of it away.
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|12:52 PM| I'd like to be some place more interesting on a saturday night, but I'm saving my money for the operation to save my sister's life. She needs new bones....all of them.
Last night blogger was broken, so I might be posting enough more mental chum at this point. I had a dream that I was at a truck stop in the rural south. I met a girl I hadn't seen in years, who had suddenly developed the thickest southern accent imanginable. When I asked her what the hell had brought her out here, she informed me that she was a psycic/faith healer now. I asked if this meant she drove out evil spirits and danced with a microphone. Her reply was "something like that, let me show you. You have a bad case of trichinosis. Let me heal it." I was impressed.
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|12:23 PM| The best and the worst
What's the worst part of clinical depression, for me? The way it makes me feel. What's the best part? The way it makes me feel.
When I'm depressed, or down, or something gets to me, it's amplified a thousand times in my head. It's fixated upon and all rational thought is lost. I feel like I'm falling down the stairs. I'm tumbling and I'm helpless but if I stick out an arm it'll be snapped as if it was dry and rotted internally. I fall, hopelessly through space for a few moments before smashing into the next landing and being catapulted further. It just doesn't stop and there doesn't seem to be an end. It's totally unreasonable. I can keep telling myself that there are bigger and more important things to worry about but I can't seem to get past this wall that has formed on either side of my tumbling mind. I wake up on the kitchen floor, unsure of what to do.
Sometimes, the opposite will happen. Strength and confidence will be magnified a thousand times. I stand up and I feel a rush of pure will ripple through me. Any task is dashed against me. I feel as if I am a force, a power, the celts called it a "warp spasm" and it's just another chemical imbalance in my head. My legs are tree trunks, my arms are steam shovels. I open my mouth and belch diesel exhaust. As I carried the bookshelf out of my apartment, I surveyed the parking lot. Had I wanted, I would only have needed to grab one of the cars there to flip it. I could have dug into the asphalt itself and buried the complex beneath it. Surely with such energy I could complete the task of moving in an hour. An hour and a half later I woke up in the closet, staring at the ceiling. I had moved some things, but I had again lost it and ended up asleep.
Ugh. With my tasks complete, and needing only to sneak the Hecubus computer out of this apartment, I'm beginning to feel weak again. I think I'll go sleep for about 20 hours. Hope you folks have a good day.
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|12:12 PM| I was just leaving.
Geez. I'm finallydone with everything. I sneaked back into my old apartment, because it's the only place with a live cable connection. Due to the sudden notice and change of apartments, I'm without phone or cable. It's a drag.
Yes, yes, internet addict and all that. but I was quite crazy for a little while. I keep calling the damn doctors office, I'm getting desperate, and all I get is the answering service. I suppose I could say it's an emergency, but it's still going to be 3 weeks or so after I start this process before it starts to work. As long as I keep stuffing a quarter dose of my ADD medication every couple hours I do alright. No more passing out and waking up on my kitchen floor or whatever. I do hope the apartment complex people didn't find me like that, sprawled out with cleaning supplies in my hand, next to cat vomit. "That's not mine...." I'm sure no tours saw me though, they'd clean this place first. "Does the sweaty guy on the floor come with the apartment?" I woke up with such odd things in my hands, like a padlock clutched tightly in one fist. I don't know why.
I wrote a couple updates when I still had internet access, and though at the time my rational mind was almost fully on vacation, it managed to get in control enough to have me delete them before posting. they were not cool.
However, I was reading "how the Irish saved civilization" and the author was talking about ancient Irish literature. 2 quotes in there stuck in my head. One was "friendly thighs" which came from a chapter on strong female characters in Irish folklore. and the other is "warp-spasm" which was the transformation of emotions that took place during battle, or at least how the celts described it. The stories of it have the change being a physical one, but the descriptions really fit the supposed mental change.
Christ, I can't tell how much I've written, this monitor is too small. I'll write what I was inspired to write after I read about warp spasms in just a second.
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Friday, October 05, 2001
|1:26 AM| What the hell are you doing? Well, I'm dehydrated for one thing. What I thought was my A/C going out turned out to be my body signalling "hey, you're really being stupid". It (the party body of the first part) decided that I should be nauseous and lose my balance. Once I stopped falling around my house, I went and did the dorky thing of drinking water slowly and futzing around with my computer.
Helluva a day. And I do mean "The past 24 hours, give or take". Privacy prohibits such things from being slashed across a website for all to see. It just seems that some days have more on their agenda then others. Sure, the tiny events of my life and those around me may pale in the light of other, larger, more pressing and dangerous issues, but it's what we have as far as lives and I'm going to take them seriously. Criminy, I'm obviously a bit out of it, I apologize. The past week has seen me with about 3-4 hours of sleep a night, with no chance to nap at work. Things have been done, issues resolved. But the issues continue to flow in. I turn a corner and there are a dozen waiting for me. I'm not frustated or angry. But being embroilled in such things is not what one would call enjoyable.
That's 5 minutes. Vorpal said take 10. Ugh. More water to be shot out of my skin as fast as I drink it.
A possible purpose of life may be the pursuit or enjoyment of love. And I'm implying any kind in there. Emotional attachment, rutting like animals, long distance ties, hopefully it's all growing and developing as a person with the help of someone else. I can say for certain that as far as pain goes, you've got broken bones near the top, kicks to the groin in the upper reaches, really bad spasms or cramps across the board....but it's the damn emotional turmoils that seem to last the longest, and cause the most harm. Sure, that's cliched, or just really damned obvious. But right now my arms hurt like a bitch. They are making it nearly impossible to type or pack or do anything useful, and they are almost the only thing I can think about. In a couple minutes, maybe a couple hours, that pain will fade and I won't even remember it by 3pm tommorow. But I'll still come home to an empty house, and that can bother you anywhere, and any time. Shit. I've gone over my alotted time. I'm rambling anyway. Once more into the living room.
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Thursday, October 04, 2001
|5:15 PM| Is this...Goodbye for now?
CURSES! Thanks to various weird crap at work and home, I am sitting here on the internet claiming that this may be it for internect connectivity for a while. I'll have the crap connection at work but it's getting so that I have 0 time to putz around up there. I guess that's for the best. Yeah, losing my high speed internet connection for a little while is going to really suck, since socializing costs MONEY. Sure, I'll get out of the house but I'll be an even BIGGER lamprey then I was before! Impossible, you say? NO! For only 19.95 you get the complete Cecil package, including plaintive late night calls, oddly written I.O.U's, stupendous check kiting and MORE.
Sorry, my drugs have worn off and the stress is high so I'm simply moving faster and faster. I should still be able to update this site from work every so often, so my ego will be stroked. Excellent. But this is an ever more humor free update than usual, as soon enough I will have the keys to the new place and I will be able to start moving stuff. The computer network will probably go last, you know, in case of an internet emergency.
If you have my cell phone, you can call it or something. In case you really actually NEED a hit of Cecil. Wake and Ceciling. I don't know for certain, but a Ceciling Fan should reduce energy costs.
Additional, a friend of mine seems to be going through a rough time of it, and he has cut himself off it seems. I don't know if he'll see this... I'm worried a bit about you, sir. I know you can probably take care of yourself or whatever is going on, but keep in touch if you need anything.
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|2:06 AM| It's 3:00am. Do you know where your work ethic is?
Criminy. This place still isn't ready to go. How the hell am I going to pull this one off? Ah. I know. The biggest issue, and really the only issue facing me right now is that my apartment is on the third floor. Everything in my apartment breaks down into easy to carry pieces, except for my sort-of antique chest of drawers. That may prove troublesome. I may end up sawing it apart and putting it back together later. Luckily I do not own a couch. I hope that time in the weightroom makes a noticable difference or I might be in trouble. Anyway, it's shaping up to be a long day. I have to get a couple hours of sleep before work or I'm toast.
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Wednesday, October 03, 2001
|8:32 PM| Got the $20. Got the apartment. Got just about everything on my job list done. A job list is not really a list until it's at least 6 items long. I don't think I've finished an entire job list in over a year. Today's unscratched entries were "Call the Blood and Tissue Center" and "Move out" I guess the second one can be excused. Monday is when I head to the Red Cross in order to learn how to help them. An orientation class. I'm sure that some of the volunteers are going back to their normal routines. I may be a bit slow, but I'm sure they could use a second wind of a kind. I'm all about being the re-inforcements. The blood and tissue center merely craves my O+ blood for various reasons. I've heard the Japanese believe that a person's blood type can influence their personality. I think I'll read up on that. First, I must finish "How the Irish saved Civilization".
That reminds me! I am now an incredible fan of P.G. Woodhouse and I have only read the first 40 pages of "The Inimitable Jeeves". I started reading it while waiting for my car's oil to get changed and I was hooting and hollering like a fool. A fool that fufills the PROPHECY. I'm going to have to track down my copy of "The importance of being Earnest". No, it's not by Woodhouse but I didn't read it at the same time that I didn't read this Jeeves book. Perhaps I was in the wrong mindset. Especially since I had to read "'Earnest" in the space of 3 hours before a test. Ah well.
Before Posting these links I'd like to point out a previous article title with "mind" and "weak" in the title. I'm not going to be a weak mind'r on this one, I was just interested in the beliefs.
Yikes! The red on this page must have been some kind of blood joke. I know that a couple cappillaries burst in my face when it loaded.
Ah well, more horoscope stuff. You can see patterns in everything eventually. Everyone wants to see the postive in themselves. Very few horoscopes or Tarot readings I've seen/had have ever drawn out the negatives. "Ah! I see that you are easlity duped. You were born under the Chump star....would you like to buy a car?"
Oh, that reminds me. I know there was a book with "Cold Read" in it's title. I can't seem to find it on Amazon. It is very old, and it is the system by which you give a "fortune telling". At it's basic level you are watching for reactions on the other person and extracting what they want to hear in that fashion. Very old, still used today. I don't trust my Amazon search skills. It took me 2 days to realize that the book I was looking for was "Imagining Argentina" not "Dreaming Argentina". Blarg.
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|12:27 AM| No Mr. Dukes, I expect you to die!
I keep meaning to find a limit to keep a day's entries to, like word rationing. But then I remembered that anyone who doesn't want to read all of this can simply stop. However, I would like to condense a bit, and find more and more pure strains of humor. The end result would be entries consisting of three words that sum up my mood, as well as hopefully being humorous.
I won $20 off of a friend of mine. I bet him that he couldn't go through two weeks without smoking. I was really hoping he'd win, a real "am I my brother's keeper" situation. However, even my constant threats and taunting did not instill enough competetive spirit, and only two days into the bet, I am $20 richer. As soon as he gives me the bill, that is. For the time being, I give up. Plan B is removing one of his lungs.
The same nice fellow who made the new banner has also kindly offered to redesign this page. He has a whole mess of talent, and like any artist I've known it needs to be fed. It just so happens that his need to express himself has surged forth in the direction of this web page. Much like I lurch violently toward ginger snaps. Hopefully there will be a prototype up and running. It's easier to read, it looks slicker, and I really dig it. Hmmm ginger snaps. Pardon me.
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Tuesday, October 02, 2001
|5:33 PM| CURRENT RENTAL SIR! CURRENT RENTAL!
4:25PM, Round Rock Texas Call placed to Shadow Oaks. The answer on current lease: "Nope! Sorry! You have two bounced checks on your history and you've turned your rent in late too many times" (This has now doomed Cecil. He needed his half of the huge referral bonus that was going to be awarded to a friend of his. Not to mention, that friend needs it to pay his rent. He doesn't panic, he remains rational)
"But, that's not really possible. After a single bounced check they wouldn't take any other checks. How can I have 2 bounced checks?"
"..."
"Can I fix it?"
"Nope! Not without (Long string of items)"
"Wait, you said 'Last 6 months' I've been in Austin almost 3 years. Can't you look at that? You mean you only see 6 months? What if I prove that I had a previous 10 month lease that was squeaky clean? Okay. I can certainly prove that!"
4:59PM Cecil leaves Dell parking lot at a speed approaching 15 miles an hour. In rush hour traffic, this is only possible by passing through solid matter.
5:15PM Austin A call placed to previous apartment complex, continued as he walks in their door. Manager: Yes, we show your lease. Yes, clean history for 10 months. No, I can't send it, not without that complex faxing us first.
5:35PM Austin Call placed again to Shadow Oaks. Instead of manager, an underling is reached. The story has changed. It no longer matters what his previous history was, these past 6 months are all that matter. Cecil maintains a perfectly calm voice. The underling is becoming more and more flustered at rational arguments, and begins to simply repeat the words "CURRENT LEASE!" over and over. Cecil knows he is keeping a perfectly calm voice because she hasn't hung up on him.
5:45PM Call is continued. Cecil is currently driving toward his current apartment well in excess of posted limits in a desperate attempt to find a place to live. He knows he can handle it, he just hopes his car can as well. It has become clear that Cecil cannot get around the underling, and all reasonable questions are now met with incoherent babbling. At this point, the brain of the underling snaps and she begins ranting about worshippng Gali-Ma and tasting the flesh of fallen Angels. Cecil is still careful to politely thank the person for their time, and say goodbye. He hangs up as the screams and fire noises start bursting from the phone.
5:58PM Cecil, knowing he is the last thing anyone in his current apartment complex's office wants to see (a resident) politely asks for help. The considerate staff listen to his story while doing their best to hide glances toward the door. It is quickly determined that Cecil is pretty screwed, but if he wants to move into a smaller apartment on the third floor, he is quite welcome. And wow, it's just as much as he was about to go pay at some place that worships the Great Old Ones.
6:10PM Cecil is officially saved. Other than a single "F" word uttered when a light changed at an inopportune time, he has been a model of reasonable and controlled reaction. He is most proud of that, but having a place to stay doesn't hurt, either.
(added at 10:18)
Thanks to a guy named Rock Epidemic for the much less painful version of the top banner. I had been messing around with a new title bar and everything game out rather jarring. I really dig Rocks work here and it fits what little style is consistent on this page. The "Green" and the "Black" seem to vie for power in a struggle that can never end.
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|8:17 AM| I am trying to stand on the edge of change, and new beginnings. Whether this is fortunate or not, it would appear that all beginnings and endings of particular beliefs are very arbitrary. Nothing turns on or off in my head, I flow from one state to the next. It's difficult for me to know if I've changed unless I leave some indicators of past behavour behind. That way I can look back and see how far, or how short, I've come along in development. Right now what I'm trying to do is be better at learning from mistakes. I still make the same ones, and now I'm on the lookout. So that's what's happening. I'm sure I can get some help from folks if I start to go down the same old paths.
Apparently the City of Austin thinks I owe them quite a lot of money. It would appear that I have been the one being billed for the electricity at my last apartment. This is most peculiar as that apartment was in charge of collecting electrical bills. Perhaps they are trying to get back at me for leaving, and accidently taking those weird pans from underneath the oven. I think I left their ice cube trays, but I won't commit to such possibly damaging statements. Hopefully the City won't cut off my power, which would cut off my A/C. In Texas, cutting off the A/C would convert my domicile from apartment to toaster oven, and I would be converted from Human to Hot Pocket. I think I'd have zesty pepperoni flavor.
The tiny Incan bone statue faces says: BACK TO WORK.
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|1:17 AM| Sam and Max game!
SCORE.
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Monday, October 01, 2001
|9:38 PM| Well, broke down and called my doctor, sometimes I call him dad. Told him about the bump on the head, the cleaning solution, and the fact that my guts seem to be having a helluva party without inviting me. All the standard questions, but the boring truth is the damn belly I tote around just HURT and that's it. The short of it is I'm going to be just fine. Acid overproduction and some irritated back of the throat. Good. He told me to eat graham crackers and avoid greasy foods for 24 hours.
Tonight is paper work night. I'm going to have to take a picture of my "inbox" which is the area beneath my dinner table, currently a developing monument for paper use reduction. I found a recycling center, just down the road. If I can I'm taking some of this and my cans over there. I abuse the planet enough, no need to rub it in.
Cleaning Cam. Dorky, dirty, live.
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|5:47 PM| Mysticism can be the sign of a weak mind
I kicked today right in the rear end. I ran dispatch like a pro, started on the most annoying reports that we file and made some headway, I hacked some Adobe drivers into doing their jobs on some W810s... It was great. I walked around the halls with a big grin on my mug. I really hope the ammonia didn't do something to my precious brain.
The other title I thought of for this entry was "Would you like some tile with your ammonia?". I'm giving a firm downcheck to "Hill Country Farms" lemon scented general purpose cleaner. It seems to be 90% Ammonia, 1% Lemon and 200% fumes. The moment I popped the cap on the container I recoiled, and I used as little as possible on my floors. Still, it seems to have torn off a couple layers inside my throat. I liked those layers. They were dear friends, and they were always there for me when I needed to breathe and drink.
Despite some possible chemical damage, I'm having a good day and I think I'll be able to tackle the bedroom cleaning project. My previous roomate has left all of his worldly belongings here, I had no idea just how much until I was cleaning every damn box. I'm sending it all back to him, possibly COD. Any suggestions as to some humorous extras I should throw in? Howabout some Bacon?
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|1:47 AM| The debate is this. Go to bed, so that work is possible, or stay up all night? From past experience, I lose spiritual momentum when I stop, even to sleep. I know that if I stay up all night I will pay for it later, and this will likely interfere with my moving. This will be a test, of sorts. Yes, I am going to bed, will I be able to go back to work with the fervor that got more done in 2 and a half hours then I've gotten done in 2 weeks?
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|1:14 AM| Donk. And then the truth was clear
I'm waiting for the mop job I did to dry a bit. I have to go and rinse it out when it's done. About 2 hours ago (possibly more) I hit myself in the head, though not on purpose. I was cleaning stuff out of the fridge in quick sharp movements and one of these misjudged where the door to the freezer was. I probably missed by about half an inch, but the location of the impact must have been on some very sensitive part. I felt the pain as if it was a solid steel beam dropped from space. I staggered, and tried to walk if off, to continue cleaning. Everything went a little bizzare and I sat down. Then I laid down, and stared at the ceiling. I felt my mouth open, while listening to the noise my fridge makes as it cools.
Nothing passed through my head for a while. In this altered state, I managed to find a voice, and spoke to myself. I was then able to get up and I haven't stopped working since. Not until now.
I can't say I came to any mind altering conclusions. Not yet. I'll see how the week progresses and then I will know.
The floor should be dry enough by now. It's an interesting kind of day.
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Sunday, September 30, 2001
|4:48 PM| Ammonia covered hands do not a good handshake make
Went to the grocery store to get cleaning supplies and....Sobe. That most dangerous of juice drinks. Dangerous to me because coupled with my medication I can spend at least 3 days awake without impossible effort
Saw another half pack of cigarettes sitting next to a lighter. Obviously someone forgot to take their smokes with them Or did they? Could they have decided on the spot to quit? Another notable instance of a sudden smoker disappearence was when I was walking along a cliff late one night with friend. We came to another incredible view off of another outcropping of rock. We stared out over the void, and then I noticed the pack of cigs and lighter at the edge. The view below us was obscured by bushes and rocks, so we called down to make certain some smoker hadn't fallen off the edge. The night had been so quiet up until that point that I felt wrong for yelling. The first couple trys came out chocked and nearly silent. When no one replied, my friend smoked the cigarettes and we used the lighter to light our way back home.
I was just thinking of a possible story to explain these little instances. That in some far off land, some deragned spirit is every so often caught in the machinery that makes the cigarettes. Not a major deity or anything, just a casual, powerful spirit. And smoking the cigarette he is trapped in releases him. He's hungry, he's been trapped a while, and the bug-eyed smoker is in close proximity.
Nah.
Christ on a BIKE. I still have 1 and a half pounds of this godforsaken bacon. Dammit, that rhymed. In the words of someone I tend to trust, bacon for dinner is "eeewww gross". I would agree but I was out of ham and eggs and I am beyond tired of noodles. Stuffing 4 strips of bacon into my gaping maw and calling it dinner may make me a bad person, but wasting this stuff is worse I think. Down the road to heart conditions, I skip.
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|3:50 PM| bugle, boggle, and a music boxxle.
Cleaning and packing for my move. Highlights thus far: Shitload of old comic books. I picked up a few at random, and boy, do they suck. One actually had "Budda Budda Budda" in there, and I'll let you guess if it was a racist, bad accented character saying "butter" or a sound effect for a gun. I also found copies of "Doom" and "Doom 2" on floppy. If anyone wants 'em, you can have 'em. Still in the original box, no less. I've got tons of crap, and I need to throw so very much of it away.
Doom 1 and Doom 2. Sounds like Dr. Suess, almost.
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|12:52 PM| I'd like to be some place more interesting on a saturday night, but I'm saving my money for the operation to save my sister's life. She needs new bones....all of them.
Last night blogger was broken, so I might be posting enough more mental chum at this point. I had a dream that I was at a truck stop in the rural south. I met a girl I hadn't seen in years, who had suddenly developed the thickest southern accent imanginable. When I asked her what the hell had brought her out here, she informed me that she was a psycic/faith healer now. I asked if this meant she drove out evil spirits and danced with a microphone. Her reply was "something like that, let me show you. You have a bad case of trichinosis. Let me heal it." I was impressed.
How she had detected a worm infection without my eyes bleeding was something I could not have guessed. She led me to a secluded location, made a kissing face, and waited. I closed my eyes, leaned over, pursed my lips....and that's when she punched me in the gut. Let me clarify though, I do feel pain in my dreams, so when super girl or whatever rocket punched me, it felt like I had just been gored by a rhino. As I was experiencing Laura's fatality, she twisted her fist, and something clicked. My head shot up to face the sky and I coughed up every last damn worm in my body in a sudden blast. I woke up with my mouth open and a sore gut. Remind me not to question faith healers. I do not actually have trichinosis, if you are curious.
Hooray. I updated Artfag's website. If the E/N gets any stronger around here I may suffocate.
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