The Bipolar Otaku

It's kind of funny. Well, not funny ha-ha, but just a strange piece of trivia. Since childhood, I've had a number of cameras which my parents bought for me. First was a 110, next a 135, followed by a Kodak disc-camera (I may be one of the few people who ever owned two), and somewhere in there, I had a Polaroid, too. All of them were designed to make film changing easy, and (except for the Polaroid) they were all short-lived formats.

Then, for a period of about 10 years, I didn't own a single camera. Then in the late 90's, another (soon-to-become short-lived) format appeared: APS. I had two of those also, one an SLR (probably the least sold SLR in Canon's EOS line-up). Then digital cameras started to come of age. And now I have two.

So, I have had every single mainstream camera format except one: 35mm, the one that every serious photographer uses. Well, there's medium format too, I guess, but that's more for professionals, and one of those cameras with a (ie just one) lens would probably cost more that my annual house payments, so I could hardly expect to ever own one of those.

And why is is that I decided to entirely skip that format? Lazyness, I think. Loading the stupid stick out film strip seemed to me a useless waste of time, and even the auto-loading systems still require manual intervention.

Oh well. I just thought it was an interesting bit of trivia.

It's kind of humorous, watching two guys in their thirties teach a guy in his fifties how to play solitare. Hard to believe he's never played.

Only two more days...

I might very well be the only person who would conceive of needing a tripod as part of the decorations, but then again, I may very well be the only person who has consistently bought a new camera every two years for the past six years.

So, on that note, I received my new Digital Rebel, which is very cool, though I deeply need things to photograph. And I'm thinking the Minolta will sit on a tabletop tripod on the bookshelf.

And beside that, only 3 more days on nights.

I just remembered what it was that made me think about the old scars on my hands in the first place. All the new scars, of course. All of them accidental... nicks with boxcutters, slashes with kitchen knives, scrapes with drillbits, stabs with screwdrivers, pinches with wrenches, even papercuts. Maybe 20 or so tiny little scabs, all within the past month. I'm not usually so accident prone...

Every time I look at the backside of my left hand, I'm reminded by the lines that I can only see if I really look search for them. When I was in middle school, I intentionally gave myself a strange habit, using my right hand nails to scratch the back of my left hand. I was trying to get all four of the fingers (all but the thumb) to scratch, but eventually the skin started to come off for only the first three fingers.

I would guess when most people do self-mutilation (which, at the time, I would never have thought that's what I was doing), they probably do it someplace less obvious, perhaps the back of their wrist, beneath short sleeves on a shirt, or some other place covered in clothes. The only more revealing place I could have done it was my face.

The odd part was that only one person ever asked "What are those marks on your hand?". Naturally, I came up with a coverup story ("I scratched them while loading the truck for a band competition.").

So I look back and wonder why I did it. Perhaps to check that I actually still bled. That actually sounds right, as twisted as that sounds. I do know that after I scratched the three marks, I quickly identified them with the three girls whom I loved (well, not really loved, but the three on whom I had a crush, though I forget who the first two were).

But I know I'm not the only person who did (or does) this kind of stuff. And if I found someone who does, I don't think I'd know how to convince them to stop either. But I do know it's not at all useful, emotionally, mentally, or psychologically. And looking back at my scars, they only serve as a reminder that I once hated myself more than anyone else in the world, that if I had my own way, I would have been hung, had my wrists slit, been run over by a car, been shot in the head, and been smushed into pulp between my car and a bridge. Pleasant thoughts to help the day go by, don't you think?

Well, those feelings are past, hopefully forever. And hopefully if I ever meet another person like that child I was all those years ago, I will find a way to help.

Finally, the end has arrived, and about 700 more pages separate me from a final understanding. The Dark Tower, the center of all worlds, held together by the Beams. Perhaps the greatest work of writer Stephen King. Definitely among the most enjoyable series of books that I've read.

So, if you haven't already, I command you, in the name of the house of Eld, in the name the White, in the name of the Rose, to go out and buy The Gunslinger and start reading.

So, I pretty much spent the rest of the day feeling bad about not waking up to go to work. Then, I missed the adult prep time for the LifeNight because I thought there wasn't one this week, so I went on feeling even worse about that. Then I realized how bummed out I was getting over the whole thing.

In reality, I think the only bad thing that will come of it is that I'll not get paid for today, which is fine. I figure that I really must have needed the sleep. This was pretty much the same way it worked out the last time I didn't sleep; I ended up taking a quick nap that took 6 hours, forcing me to miss my friend's housewarming. Ironically, it was his birthday and second (or maybe his third) housewarming last night, which is why I was up to midnight in the first place.

hmmm... I think I left my corkscrew there. Damn. At least I talked to some of my friend's parents, who are moving sometime soon and might be able to give or sell me some nice stuff, like maybe a nice big snowblower. Gotta love the connections I made in college.

Anyway, I guess I just gotta call my boss tomorrow and tell the truth. And I'll use next week's trip up north to adjust to first shift. Just 5 more days of second shift!

I was supposed to work this morning, but I overslept. That might not have been a problem if I overslept an hour or two, but I overslept 5 hours. And by that time, I decided I might as well just sleep another 3 hours. Oh well, I gyess I have to tell my boss tomorrow. Not looking forward to that phone call.

I tried to strip the old stain off my deck. I spent about an hour. I succeeded in cleaning about 4 square inches. Total. I think I'm doing something wrong here... Time to read the how-to's...

I had forgotten how much I hated driving on the expressway in the morning- everyone is an asshole. Besides that, it's really dangerous when you're only 3/4 awake. 3/4? Yeah, I didn't sleep again, this time only taking a partial Seroquel dose and using the time to catch up on The Apprentice, the only reality show that I have watched since Real World London (damn shame Jacinda the actress never amounted to anything). And I brewed coffee that I forgot to drink. Oops...

There's one question in all of human physiology that always leaves me wondering... How does a ghetto booty form? You know what I'm talking about - the uncharacteristically huge ass that forms on some otherwise slender and attractive females. Just how do they get so big? I mean, it's scary how large they get... And why only females? At least fat males get eat everywhere...

Rats? Seen those. Mice and pigeons too. But today is
the first time Ive seen a black squirrel, or any
squirrel for that matter, in a plant. I wonder if hed
be stupid enough to get caught in the tooling. Its
probably the only thing to climb around here,
considering the complete lack of trees...

Ok, nix that. I know, I know... I have to start being a little bit stingier now. I've got a house I need to maintain, and no matter how well my job pays, my income is finite. To make things worse, my boss forgot to approve our overtime from the last two weeks, so my next paycheck will be quite slim. So I guess I have to put a hold on discretionary spending for a while... well, at least until Christmas shopping starts. I'm sure that will start a new wave of to-me-from-me spending urges...

I guess I should have expected it sooner or later... After all, even though I have 2 MasterCards, a Visa, a corporate AmEx, an Expo/Home Depot card, a BestBuy card, a Sears card, and a debit card, I still only use my Visa with the funky jazz band on it. So naturally, it's maxed out now. On to the MasterCard! May the spending never cease!

Well, I besides being stuck behind the camera yesterday, I did have a good time. And less importantly, I found out that one of the college students had a Digital Rebel, of which I was majorly envious. And when he showed me where to buy it for only $550, my envy ended and my urge to purchase kicked in. In other words, I've got one on order. Then I figured if I'm going back to using the EOS SLR system, I really should get that image stabilizing lens I've always wanted. And I might as well get a new memory card. And as I speak, my sister is registering me and her to take a SLR-based 35mm and Digital photography class.

So JT the photographer shall emerge again!

Last night was the kick off of the LifeTeen program, in which I am now a core member. Basically they just went through a bunch of different games and kept score. As for myself, instead of taking a clipboard and getting to know a group of teens, someone offered me a video camera. Naturally, I jumped at the chance to hide behind the camera. Old habits die hard.

Otaku Level 4


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My Bloginality is INTP!!!

Nothing new... This "bloginality" is just a super-short form of the Myers-Briggs personality test. Of course, last time I took it, I ended up unknowingly lying about being a "J" (Judging) instead of a "P" (Perceiving) which partially explains much of my stress during college... I had always tried to be the goal-driven type of person who could take control of details of any project. The rest of it is quite definitely me.
- "I" (Introverted) as opposed to "E" (Extroverted), because I am quite introverted and work best in small groups of people I trust.
- "N" (Intuiting) as opposed to "S" (Sensing), because I prefer conceptualization over statistical thinking.
- "T" (Thinking) as opposed to "F" (Feeling), because I follow logic more than feelings.

So, that's me.

Just a couple more hours of tedium... Then I think I'll go to mom's to try to finish cleaning my room. I'm told she started throwing my junk in boxes, but I have a good feeling that I'll need to dump out the boxes and sort stuff as I repack them. God knows I'd never sort it out once it gets to my place. Maybe if I can get it all done tonight, I could get help moving my shelves next week, which would help me get organized at home.

I woke up today at 1:30. Well, really, I woke up at 10:30, on the couch, but went up to my bed and fell back asleep. Why was I sleeping on the couch? you might ask. Watching TV, of course! Between the vast choices of digital cable and the convenience of Tivo, I find myself addicted to TV in a way I haven't been since high school. I know that I should be doing more important things around the house, like installing the new doorknobs I bought and cleaning up and stuff, but when I get home I'm too damn lazy...

Since I put the bid on my house, I've kept a spreadsheet of all my estimated costs and my actual spending on everything I need and want for my house in the next 5 years. So far, since May 18 of this year,I've spent about $27199. That doesn't include books and magazines and games that I've bought during that time, just housewares and tools and appliances and furniture. That's $298/day; I earn $385 before tax. At least it's still $24472 less than what I thought I was going to need to spend...

I'm feeling much better today. With a slightly clearer mind, I think I found, and fixed, the probably causes of 2 problems that have haunted this line. Kinda like hitting 2 birds with 1 sniper rifle. So now I'm casually enjoying the not-quite end of a rather bothersome week. I still have to work tomorrow... I need the money.

I think I understand, now, why I feel so disgruntled at work. I've spent several weeks trying to figure out an intermittant problem, and not getting it is completely killing my morale. The more I try to fix, the worse I make it. And since it almost never happens, I stare at a screen, reading a book while I wait, and it happens while I stare at it, and blankly not understand that the little gremlin just struck again..Yeah, that's enough to make me hate being here. They expect a savior, but get only only me.

The only question is why wasn't it obvious? Or is the problem just that I miss being the helpful person that they once took me for, that I was just a few months ago. But now feeling so helpless while they still look to me to know how to fix everything... I'm just deluding myself, just as much as I deluded myself back then. But it's completely unfair of me to say that.

Of course this is just a wave of feelings of inadequacy, and it's something that I just have to learn to deal with. Now that I'm conscious of it, maybe it'll be easier to deal with.

Bored to death, here at work. Just keep thinking of things I need to do at home. Need to drill some holes to install the locksets I bought. Need to pry off some trim pieces so I can find a place to duplicate it. Need to get stuff from mom's place so I can move my shelves and wine rack. Need to discard all my empty boxes. Need to clean, clean, clean... Oh, and tomorrow's garbage day... I'd rather be home right now.

Bored to death, here at work. Just keep thinking of things I need to do at home. Need to drill some holes to install the locksets I bought. Need to pry off some trim pieces so I can find a place to duplicate it. Need to get stuff from mom's place so I can move my shelves and wine rack. Need to discard all my empty boxes. Need to clean, clean, clean... Oh, and tomorrow's garbage day... I'd rather be home right now.

Im getting sick of this. I cant say exactly why, but
Ive had my fill of afternoon shift and I want to be
back on days. End of the month, it should stop. At
least thats what my boss implies, and that what I hope
remains true. For a while, it had some advantages, but
they seem lost now. Now it just comes as a pain. But
then again, once I have to start being at work at 7am,
Im sure Ill miss 2nd shifts lazy morning schedule.
Damned either way, I guess.

My mom has a nice big 36" TV. For whatever reasons, most people who watch TV (my sister, both brothers, and sister-in-law have all been culprits, usually playing a game on the PS2 or the DVD player) will turn off the PlayStation, but not the TV. A TV that big gives a pretty loud, high-pitched hum. Oddly enough, I'm the only one who hears it at all. I hear it across the house when the house is noisy, and from upstairs when the house is quiet. Besides the sound, the only way to tell that the TV is on is a little red LED, which no one looks at too. So while I was living there, I would have to turn off the TV all the time, because no one else ever realized that it was on.

I don't miss that.

No good. It finished loading, them started indexing. When I left, it had been sitting at 99% for a few minutes. Oh well, I'll go pick it up after work tonight.

Seeing as I work unusual hours, and may even be out of town much of the time, I decided that the only way to make having cable worthwhile is to also get a Tivo. And with a cable modem and a wireless network, it should work even though I don't have (or want to have) a land line.

Wrong! Sorry, thanks for playing. The stupid thing MUST have a dial in to the server for the initial setup, but not until after that setup is done can the internet connection be used. Who was the stupid idiot that designed that? I can't stand this setup wizard. It's completely power-user unfriendly... not enough options, not enough indication of what's happening, not enough ways out.

Anyway, I brought the whole thing to my mom's place and am going through the setup here. Hopefully this works, even though I don't have my cable box here. I'd hate to have to get a phone line installed just so that I can use this stupid thing... Well, I guess if I did that, it would also give me a way to take care of faxes, since I can't use the fax machines at work. But, it's just more money...

It's downloading, but, since my cable box isn't here, I can't set it up to use the remote serial connection like I plan on using at home.

Ok, it looks like it's done download, but it says not to unplug it for at least 8 hours... sucks. At least it looks like it's updating pretty quickly. It's moved fromo 30% to 80% in the last 30 minutes and I've got more 30 minutes before I have to go to work. It'll finish, by then, and I should be able to take it with me instead of leaving it here. I should try to start cleaning my room while I'm here.

I mentioned my dad the other day, but now that I think of it, I don't think I really ever did more than mention him.

Sadly, my most coherent memory of him was the day of his death. December 7, 1998, I think, but it might have been the 6th; I can't remember that and I really don't care about that detail. That morning, he told me to vacuum, but the vacuum bag was full and we were out of new ones. Since he was going out, I asked my brother to get some, but he forgot and therefore I didn't vacuum. My two brothers went to a Christmas party that night, at our church's youth minister's house; I think my dad's long-standing jealousy of that man contributed to his bad mood. So when, around 9 or so, he saw me playing games on my new computer (which I bought with funds that he, no doubt, thought should have been used on tuition) with vacuuming, he got pissy and decided to vacuum with the past-full bag. Seeing as I am a glutten for guilt trips, but knowing very well that he would never hand over the vacuum, I decided that the all I could do is shut off my pc and sit on the couch in the room he was vacuum. I didn't know if he realized he was actually making the carpet dirtier, but he eventually shut off the vacuum and stretched out on the couch, eyes shut, hand at his temple. I looked up from my magazine to notice him pull out a small metal cylinder, the same one he had familiarized us with some 12 years earlier, after his first heart attack. In it he kept 4-6 nitroglycerine tablets, the first line of defense in case of another heart attack. After quickly sticking one under his tongue and hiding the cylinder, he closed his eyes for a time. I thoght little of it, since he had been sneaking these in more often, lately. My sense of time, that night, ends there. Then he groaned, and that was not right. "Dad?" both I and my sister, who was sitting with my mom in the kitchen, asked simultaneously. In response, he made a sound half moan, half scream. "Dad!", once again, simultaneous. Our plan of what to do was eerily natural: give him a nitroglycerine, call 911, check breathing and pulse, administer CPR. I got him another nitroglycerine; after all, I knew it was in his pant pocket, not around his neck like he always said he kept it. After the 2nd pill, he started having convulsions. Mom was already calling 911, immediately followed by a doctor friend in our subdivision. My sister can't find a pulse, and starts CPR. The dog goes apeshit. EMS and doctor arrive. Sister continues CPR until they are ready to take over. I take dog to backroom and hold/hug him, as he is the only thing around with which to try and comfort myself. The rest I don't see. Ambulence is gone. We scramble to call our brothers. I think I was the one who drove to the hospital; although I don't remember if anyone rode with me, I remember taking a few unusual things, maybe Mom's purse, shoes, and phonebook. He died in the ambulence.

I write the story, this time, to make obvious some of the details that I usually try to sweep under the rug in shame. For several years, I had felt most responsible for his death. The more evident responsibility came because he was vacuuming when he had his final heart attack; he was vacuuming because I was too lazy to go to K-Mart (walking distance from the house, even in December, although I surely would have driven there) and get some damn vacuum bags. Eventually I forgave myself for this one. Eventually I found myself able to talk about it.

But this one about his glycerin, I find interesting. I never did mention any of the details surrounding the glycerin, that he had already taken one before we started to act and how remarkable his reaction was to the second pill was, although I remember all of it distinctly. And, until I wrote about it tonight, I never really consciously thought of it. I mean, what if that second pill was really shocked his already unstable system. Before that pill, he was breathing. Before that pill, he wasn't convulsing. Before that pill, he had a pulse. Of course, there's nothing to indicate that taking multiple pills would have adverse affects. Oh well, an interesting thought pattern, but still worthless to me now.

As it ends up, I think all four of us kids felt responsible for his death, because of arguments we had that day, because we weren't there, because CPR wasn't enough. I think it was years, however, before any of us mentioned it, and we still almost never talk about it openly. I do know that beating myself up over it would be completely useless. It's long past, and there's nothing I can do about it anymore. I doubt I would ever forget (what is thought can never be unthought), but at least I won't bury myself in blame or self-loathing. I hope that none of the others blame themselves anymore either.

I'm glad I bought this series. The series is about a girl who dies and becomes the Avatar of Time, the one destined to save the earth, but first she must learn what the earth really is. It an amazingly beautiful series, one of the few I would recommend even to non-anime watchers.

I'm flnally to the episode I liked, episode 6, which dealt with what people do to get out easy. In this episode, she confronts her math teacher, who just teaches out of the book. She askes him to teach with his own voice. He drives her to realize that everything in our society is all structured to make things easier for ourselves, and how amazingly aweful a thing that could really be.

Two weeks ago, I went to the kick-off meeting for the adults in the LifeTeen program. And they presented us potential "Core Members" with a contract. We must contract ourselves to attending at least 21 of the 26 LifeNights, to put in at least 10 hours of time for each LifeNight we plan, and so on. I can't remember everything anymore. The youth minister told us to take it home, think it over. Most people followed those intructions. A noticed a couple of the super-dedicated ones sign and hand it in immediately.

I hesitated for a few seconds. Then I knew. I thought about how I lose my faith when I'm out of touch with the church. And I signed, needed to sign. I had to stay believing.

And so my signature appeared on the paper. And so, unless I finish my work day by 5pm or I'm out of town, I will be turning down every opportunity to work on a Sunday this year.

But that was two weeks ago. Why haven't I mentioned it? A little bit bothersome a thought, considering how I talk about just about everything important in my life and much of the unimportant things (if you read my blog, you've probably figured that out). But why not this? How did this slip by?

So it's 9:30 at night and I decide I should cook some chicken breasts that I've had marinating for a few days, in grapefruit juice (I've been a bit experimental lately). So I fire up the grill (big mistake, not because of the bug bothering me, but because of the bugs I let into the house). And to go with it, I cut up some various vegetables and plums (yes, very experimental) and cooked them up in a frying pan. Then it decide the next step would be to deglaze it. If you haven't seen deglazing on the cooking channel, it consists basically of dumping in a high-proof liquor, and igniting it. Good chefs can just flick the pan a bit, and lighting using the flames of the stove; I cheat and use a Creme Brulee torch. And as the Canadian Club 100-proof lit into a pile of blue flames, it occured to me what the very most important thing that every good kitchen should have, but I hadn't thought of yet: a fire extinguisher.

Don't worry... no uncontrolled fire.

So I eat my mediocre pile of food (experiment: failed - the garlic was way undercooked [I should have known that I should keep roasted garlic on hand] and the grapefruit marinade is interesting but "not great") and re-watch Arjuna (which I bought the whole series on DVD because I liked one particular episode; fortunately, with a 6-disk DVD changer I can watch the entire series without once getting up) and get drunk off the not-fully-burned-off alcohol.

Woot! I guess it just means that I've always got too much on my mind.

Anyway, I just came from my brother's birthday dinner, which we celebrated at Macaroni Grill. Typically, in our family, we basically call a standard brithday present somewhere around $50. But this time I gave about $150 overall, in presents and and gift cards... Considering how much money I've spent on me and my house lately, I kind of figured I really ought to step up my gift giving. So, there it is. Money is more plentiful, the to-me-from-me's are more plentiful, and so will the from-me-to-everyone-else's. Besides, I've always felt like I've been a little too stingy in the past.

Fruit. Pears, apples, grapes, strawberries, plums, oranges, grapefruit... All things I'm allergic to, all things that I bought in the last grocery run. Am I trying to tempt illness? Or do I just crave normality? Perhaps a little of both... No, a lot of both. Such sweet sorrow...

I worked dayshift today. I got home at 1am. I took my Seroquel, but didn't sleep. I made it safely to work on autopilot (the near braindead mode of driving that proves that someone is looking out for me). And then I faded in and out until lunch, when I took a full nap. Pulling an all-nighter is much easier without the meds. But at least I'm awake now, and that's what counts.

You are a SECF--Sober Emotional Constructive Follower. This makes you a Hippie.

You are passionate about your causes and steadfast in your commitments. Once you've made up your mind, no one can convince you otherwise. Your politics are left-leaning, and your lifestyle choices decidedly temperate and chaste.

You do tremendous work when focused, but usually you operate somewhat distracted. You blow hot and cold, and while you normally endeavor on the side of goodness and truth, you have a massive mean streak which is not to be taken lightly. You don't get mad, you get even.

Please don't get even with this web site.

Of the 20429 people who have taken this quiz since tracking began (8/17/2004), 10.9 % are this type.

Take this quiz here. Not exactly the best meme, but somewhat interesting

This is a test of the wap.ubique.ch mobile web blog posting system. This is only a test. Well, my thanks to yuffers for pointing me to this site. I'm hoping it won't have some of the limitations that yahoo email does, like missing punctuation marks and short message length limits. But I can already see that support for titles is lacking. I can also see that I still don't have any control over line feeds, but I think I can survive without them. I think this might just work out... But this is the limit....

Yes, I know. No one can be right all the time, but
finding out I was wrong at work really bothers me.
Downtime here can mean $20k a minute, and when I look
at a problem that will shut things down for hours, I
look at it until I am sure that there is no way to
avoid the downtime. So I said that this is the
problem, and it has to be replaced. And theres no
reason for me to sit around a line I cant fix. But the
plant workers did their job, found a cause I hadnt
thought of, and fixed it. And now I feel guilt

I know I need to write something, but the well seems a
little dry... Lets see. Last night I spent more on
cables for my sound system them I paid for the actual
stereo. Today I went to my psychiatrist, who reminded
me that I have to take my medicine. Today is also my
brothers birthday, but we wont actually celebrate it
until Saturday. Tomorrow would have been my dads 69th
birthday, if he were still alive. But thats about
everything interesting I can think of saying right
now.

When you setup a stereo, you have to test it out, right? Now how many people do you suppose test their stereo out with Finding Nemo? Just one, that I could think of...

So I'm either delusional or just a flat out liar. The other day, in a comment, I said I'm starting to be of the opinion that drinking once in a while might be okay, as long as (1) I don't ever binge and (2) I gauge my reaction (allergic and emotional) carefully. And usually I drink these days more for the taste, and never for the affect of getting drunk.

Right, I don't ever binge... every time I drink wine, I end up with at least 2 1/2 glasses. When I first moved in, my sister and I finished 3 bottles. When she and I went to dinner last week, we drank a full bottle. At the lunch yesterday, I drank 1/2 a bottle. At my friend's yesterday, we finished another 3 bottles. I don't do anything but binge...

I have to stop. At least for a while, I have to stop. I also have to start being more routine with my medications... I probably miss 2-3 doses of lithium a week. That can't be helping anything. I am floating back to manic, and it should have been obvious. And perhaps thinking I could handle drinking again was part of some delusion. Who knows...

Not my quote, though a quite intriguing one.

So like I was saying, I went to my friend's condo. He called me up wanting to show off his new little JVC home-theater-in-a-box. Seeing as I don't get my Onkyo home-theater-in-a-box until Tuesday, I couldn't invite him over to show off mine... yet.

Anyway, I was running late since there were some things I had to buy at numerous stores, but that worked out since he was heading out to a "quick" sushi dinner with a friend of his, which ended up taking an hour and a half. Oh well, I was still in the area by the time he got home, so I finally got to see his place. This is about 11pm.

So he openned up a bottle of wine he wanted to try, threw in The Thomas Crowne Affair (the Rene Russo version, his favorite movie) and turned up. Nice system. It's only 5.1 channel, but a 6.1 or 7.1 wouldn't work with his room layout.

Anyway, of course we got to talking (by now out on his patio area) and I notice he keeps using this line "One day I will understand me." I reply to it in different ways ("Does anyone ever understand himself? Does it matter?", moving into "I hope it comes sooner rather than later." and eventually moving into a simpler "It will come."). But it's obvious he wants to talk about problems, and that's usually the role that I play well in - the listener. He told me things about his family, encounters with his now-married ex-girlfriend, and more that I can't repeat. And of course, as things go on, I tell relate to him parts of my life that seemed pertinent, for example, what drove me to seek mental help, rifts that happened in my extended family, how my immediate family stays close, how much I still miss so-and-so, etc.

But he kept coming back to that line "One day I will understand me." sometimes appended with "And if you ever understand me, call me no matter what time of day, leave a message, just call."

And there's just one thing that I've never told him, never told anyone about, and I still can't tell anyone about. It was when he and the now-married ex were still going out; she invited me to coffee at the Daily Grind, our usual haunt back in college. And she asked me a question about him, which I won't repeat. And I (who had not slept in about 3 days) gave what I always considered too honest of an answer, too cruel for a friend to say of one of his best friends, which I won't repeat. But after talking with him yesterday, 5 years later, my answer, which had bothered me for years, suddenly seemed prophetic. Maybe I should tell him.

We stopped drinking at about 5am. I crashed in his guest bedroom, and surprisingly got a few hours of sleep, despite not having any Seroquel. And I'll be back there at 6, for his house-warming party.

Yesterday I did my first "real" event at my house. I had my whole family (well, at least just the immediate family plus one of my cousins) over for lunch. Fired up the grill and put on some steaks and some chicken, served with roasted garlic and sauteed mushrooms on the side. One brother brought potato salad and cole slaw. The other brother brought an apple pie and vanilla ice cream. My mom brought egg rolls and fried rice. My cousin (who left his law practice to become a teacher in a seminar) said grace. And so we ate, openned a couple bottles of wine, watched the Michigan game, left way too many leftovers.

My cousin, who was seeing the house for the first time, remarked that my first priority in the house was immediately obvious: the kitchen. Perceptive guy.

And they all left (everyone being forced to take some egg rolls home with them). My sister did do the some of dishes, but everything else is still a mess, and I haven't had time to clean up yet.

After they left, I saw my next door neighbor out and talked with them some more. I met their 18-year-old daughter (who is wonderfully frank about giving me the dirt on everyone in the neighborhood, and who is wonderfully good looking). And then they told me who cuts all the lawns around here, and so told me to introduce myself to the family across the street from them, whose son does the mowing. And since they were about to have dinner with the family next to them, they pulled me over to meet them too. And so we sat down, had some soft drinks, talked and talked. And half an hour later (or so it felt), I finally excused myself since I was supposed to go check out my friend's new condo after running some more errands.

But that's going to be another post...

Well, I guess I took a 8 hour nap on my couch. I was going to just take a 30 minute nap before I headed out to my friend's housewarming, but he called me 10 minutes ago to make sure I was still alive. I am, I guess.

So the new washer and dryer are installed. Expecting, for some reason, to have to do the actual installation myself, I bought all the hoses and cables I thought I'd need. Well, looks like pretty much all of them were either too short, or simply didn't hold up to the installation, so they had to bring in new hoses and cables for all of it... so much for having some foresight...

Back when I was in high school (or was in middle school?) the Encore channel appeared on our cable. The Encore channel was (and probably still is) a low-budget, but cheap, movie channel that, by simple lack of programming, couldn't compete with HBO, Showtime, and the others, but managed to get subscribers since it was so cheap.

Back then, the Encore channel seemed to only play two movies, over and over and over. Those two movies, after watching them several dozen times, I ended up loving dearly. Those two movies were Logan's Run and The Adventures of Baron Munchaunsen. Logan's Run was a kind of like a sci-fi version of Shirley Jackson's The Lottery. Baron Munchausen... well, I think of it as a toned down acid trip set in the 18th century. And it has Uma Thurman naked.

I bring this up because Showtime is showing it right now, and I'm cracking up hysterically. A little bit of madness is exactly what I need right now, don't you think? I always hoped that Sarah Polley would get somewhere after this movie, but... well, although her career never really showed up on my entertainment radar (which, granted, is quite limited in scope) maybe she is doing better than I think. But then again, I always thought Claire Danes would make it too (after My So Called Life), so I wouldn't put money on any of my showbiz bets...

So anyway, I gotta remember to buy this movie...

One thing I really found remarkable about this house was how well sound carried through it, especially because the balcony just outside my bedroom that overlooks the great room. From my bedroom, you can carry on a conversation with someone in the kitchen, and you'd barely have to raise your voice. Conversely, if my alarm clock were any louder, I'd probably be able to hear it in the basement...

So I've used that title before... so what?

It's six in the morning, and I'm still awake. There are two reasons I could have had for staying up. I'm getting my washer and dryer sometime this morning. I'm having my family over for lunch, going to grill up some steaks and some chicken breasts. Wanted to clean up for both. And in the meantime, caught parts of some bad movies on cable, put my computer on my desk, set up the front speakers on the desktop, clean up some trashpiles, paint some areas of the kitchen with what might be the new color, marinated the steaks and chicken. Now I should take a shower. I hear anime or cartoons on the TV, so maybe I'll watch that too, as I prepare some side dishes or something.

Anyway, welcome back into the 24 zone...

Well, really, I am finished with It. That book is now
closed, and I will soon chose another. And as for my
own stories of my childhood... Well, they are on hold
for a while. All that I really had left to talk about
was my attempted suicides, but Im not ready for that.
Im not ready mostly because I cant remember; crucial
details are lost, maybe permanently. But life has
moved on since then, as life will move on from now.

Here at work, sometimes they keep me busy, calling me
from line to line to fix this problem and that, and
often,I become the hero they are looking for. But on
days like today, Im no help at all... Makes me wish I
just stay home, where Im sure I could be of some use.

Interestingly enough, I decided to check my Squawkbox comments today, and found new comments posted... but then when I checked my blog, I couldn't figure out what it was they were commenting on (something about vanilla coke...). I found it, eventually; of course it was posted on some blog entry I made back in April '03. Kinda fun to read those old posts again.

Anyway, welcome, Jacki, and I'm glad to see you're still reading, Kate. I wonder where everyone else went, though... Actually, no, I really don't.

I knew that owning a house would entail a great deal of work. I guess I just never imagined how much of a pain in the neck that much work would actually be. Thank god I didn't buy a "fixer-upper" or I would just be drenched with stupid little things to do, along with all the big things I need to do, too. I have garbage everywhere, mostly in the form of cardboard boxes that I have been too lazy to cut up and throw in garbage bags. I can't wait for garbage day, though... That should give me space to park my car again; it's a really tight squeeze, right now.

And on a sadder note, I just realized today that the 32" TV I bought a few years ago was, in fact, always a 27" ... I had assumed I paid the extra cash back then, so always misguessed the size.

Oh, and you should congradulate me. I just fell down my staircase for the first time, and I didn't even spill my beer.

My laptop now has internet access from up in my bedroom. In my mom's house, the wireless never could connect from the family room to my room. At least in this house, there appears to be much less interference, and the den's layout gives me the freedom to put the cable modem and the wireless router on top of my bookshelves. The next step will be to get my PS2 connected in the great room. Naturally, I already have the equipment to do that.

The other really good news is that I have garbage! Service, I mean. Well, garbage too, I guess. Last week, I took it for granted that Troy's taxes paid to have everyone's garbage picked up every week... I put out my garbage the same time everyone else did, and mine didn't get picked up because I wasn't a paying customer yet. So this Friday is double duty...

And the other other really good news is that I have Bell's Oberon Ale. I saw it at Sam's club last week and felt compelled to buy a case, which of course meant that I felt compelled to drink it. On a historic note, Oberon was the first beer I found myself capable of drinking, about 8 months after the first time I drank at a party and puked after too much Miller Genuine Draft. Consequently, I will not touch MGD (or a number of other low grade beers.

And I guess there's a little implied message in the previous paragraph... I don't think I ever mentioned that I started drinking again. First it was a beer now or then, then a glass of wine here or there. Then, when I moved in, my sister and I polished off three bottles of wine (with surprisingly little side-effects). Then a couple days later, a friend and I finished off another bottle of wine (leaving me with just one last bottle of Liberty School Cabernet Sauvignon 1997, which I'm reserving until my old roommate visits). And it all leads up to now, when I have a bottle of Oberon before I go to bed. Why? Because it's better than having a bottle before I go to work; that's why.