I think that there may be too many people satisfied with sitting back and watching others act. I notice it everywhere I go.
I want to act. I would like to be watched, too.
Heh, it seems so hard to exert any sort of energy at all. Best I hop to it...
Saturday, August 26
Wednesday, August 16
released from the shackles
Heh, something strange happened yesterday. After talking to my father, he told me it was okay not to go to college anymore.
Not that I'm not going to keep pursuing education. I love school.
However, his message was that... well, I know how to live cheap (I can live well off of $600/month, which is doing fantastic when living in a rich district), I don't have anyone but myself to provide for, and I already have an associates.
I feel like I can finally go any direction I want to now. I also feel as though I'm alone, but in that free sort of way. My best guess is the feeling one would get being without gravity. It's very liberating, very cool.
It's strange, because I've been free for a very long time. I just never felt free...
In my head, though, I am on a mission, and nobody will stop me.
My friend Jeremiah went off to Iraq 2 days ago. Twas very sad. However, I have made plans with him when he gets back. when he and my friend get back, the three of us are going on a motorcycle trip across the US. I'm trying to decide whether I should fashion the trip to be like the movie Akira (have swords and start cutting rival biker gangs) or like Robert Pirsig (have some sort of memory). Heh, I'm just kidding. I'm doing the motorcycle thing for my own reasons -- to bond with my old friends, reorient my life (like a tune-up, everybody needs to reorient and adjust their life occasionally), maybe learn something new, hopefully have a good time. We'll see.
Jeremiah is going to sell me his cycle for $2500 next year. It's a nice starter cycle that has been sold from soldier to soldier. A soldier's motorcycle.
I'm going to get the money together and buy it.
Not that I'm not going to keep pursuing education. I love school.
However, his message was that... well, I know how to live cheap (I can live well off of $600/month, which is doing fantastic when living in a rich district), I don't have anyone but myself to provide for, and I already have an associates.
I feel like I can finally go any direction I want to now. I also feel as though I'm alone, but in that free sort of way. My best guess is the feeling one would get being without gravity. It's very liberating, very cool.
It's strange, because I've been free for a very long time. I just never felt free...
In my head, though, I am on a mission, and nobody will stop me.
My friend Jeremiah went off to Iraq 2 days ago. Twas very sad. However, I have made plans with him when he gets back. when he and my friend get back, the three of us are going on a motorcycle trip across the US. I'm trying to decide whether I should fashion the trip to be like the movie Akira (have swords and start cutting rival biker gangs) or like Robert Pirsig (have some sort of memory). Heh, I'm just kidding. I'm doing the motorcycle thing for my own reasons -- to bond with my old friends, reorient my life (like a tune-up, everybody needs to reorient and adjust their life occasionally), maybe learn something new, hopefully have a good time. We'll see.
Jeremiah is going to sell me his cycle for $2500 next year. It's a nice starter cycle that has been sold from soldier to soldier. A soldier's motorcycle.
I'm going to get the money together and buy it.
Tuesday, August 8
Going Commando!
Okay. I've really, really, really wanted to have an overview post posted on here so I don't have to recall too much. But, given the large amount of commitment it would be to write, I have never truly attempted it!
Until now.
However, I didn't do it for this page. I am writing a letter to a long-lost friend whom I'm trying to reconcile with. However, this overview, though it has more than I want, is a little bit too brief. There's so many experiences and memories that have occurred these six years, I couldn't begin to write about them. So, since this is the only compromise available, I'll take it.
This letter is not finished -- it took me the entire afternoon and evening to write (less dinnertime) and so there will be more later.
Here goes!
Jeremiah,
Six years is a long time. Because of that, I feel as though communicating via email won’t do any catch-up justice; instead, I have a horrid feeling that communicating via email will actually screw up the catching-up process. Despite past experiences that lead me to believe this instinct to be true, I still think I at least owe you a brief overview of what I’ve done these past six years – and an apology.
Way back in the Fall of 2001, I learned that I was ultimately going to have to go to Humboldt County if I wanted to go to college. I was still planning on going to Alaska (which I did in October) but I all but knew that the University in Anchorage was not going to accept me.
However, I knew that you absolutely hated Humboldt County and that dire consequences would result should I return (I remember what happened to Evan when he went with his stoner friend after you threatened to not be his friend anymore). But, to me Humboldt County cried out my name, and I didn’t know of any other realistic options. I couldn’t get a job anywhere because I was 16. There was just as much to do in Utah as there was in Humboldt County – nothing (this was shocking to me, to come back and realize that there was nothing to do). I couldn’t get into college in Utah (didn’t recognize my diploma). I refused to go back to High School because it was always such a boring experience (I moved around so often that I could never get into extracurricular activities), the school I would’ve went to was xenophobic (rednecks), and I simply wouldn’t settle for anything less than college. To top it off, I finally kicked the habit of playing video games (by installing a RH linux development distro), so I had nothing to do. Thus, I was idle all the time, preferring to study philosophy and anything else I could find (I’m sure I went insane a few times from reading philosophy/idleness cocktail). I would’ve lived unhappily ever after for much longer, though if it wasn’t for the fact that, while I was idle, all of my friends were still going to high school and becoming academically stronger. I felt like I was left behind on the academic trail. So, I decided that I had to take my life into my own hands and get to Humboldt somehow.
Now here’s where I have to apologize. As I wrote earlier, I knew going back was something you strongly disapproved of. And so, I knew I was effectively breaking off from you (we were supposed to be blasting that joint, never to return). However, as I thought about how to go about my relations with you, I recalled that you wanted others to break away from you rather than you breaking away from them because you didn’t want to be the causer of pain (I recall you saying that about your relationship with others after the whole Megan Miller thing). And so I decided, “Well, I’ll just write that we ought to split and go our own ways, since it is true that we are (I’m over here; he’s over there. I’m not going where he’s going; he’s not going where I’m going)”. What’s more, though, I wanted to conceal where I was going from you because I feared something nasty would happen. And this is where I need to apologize. I am sorry that I deceived you by not disclosing the full truth and splitting off from you needlessly. Though I don’t worry about it too much anymore because I know that I wasn’t very mature then (at least compared to now), I have never forgotten how bad I have felt for doing that. So, even though I’ve grown up so much since that time (as I’m sure you have – I have a feeling you’re just laughing at this lightheartedly) I’d like it if you would accept my apology.
Before I go on, I want to tell you about two strange things that happened. The first one is that I remember vividly that I kept getting dreams of you dying. Night after night, I’d have them, and I couldn’t understand them. I think I even told you one of them, once. Usually it involved you being sentenced for something horrible, and I was there to try and save you, but I just couldn’t. They were weird dreams. I don’t think dreams mean much in the way of the real world, though.
The other strange thing is that my father had a vision of me and two other people, in full military gear, dying on a hill, and my mother crying. although I had been up for almost 30 hours, I was so wide awake after he told me that, I was shocked. Now, I don’t think I believe in such things as visions. But there are some things that I won’t even test. And so, when he told me that, I have never considered going into the service ever again. (I really hope you weren’t one of the people sent to die with me in that vision, if it really was one).
(Hmm… this letter is getting much longer than I wanted. I’ll just give you the skinny and leave it at that.)
Anyway, while in Alaska, the entire family (my 2 sisters, my father, and I) basically suffered. Anchorage was not a pleasant place to be. I didn’t get into the University, and it’s terribly dark and lonely there at that time of year (there’s a lot of assholes on the road (and moose!). Everywhere we went there was an up-side-down car on the side of the road.). What’s more, my father got very paranoid about lice being on my body, since I had had two really bad reactions of swelling/speckled red spotted/itchiness that nobody could figure out. He made me keep the window to our apartment open, in the middle of winter, without the heater. Let me tell you, mummy bags are your friend.
During that time, I got a synthesizer, and spent a lot of time just practicing piano. Apart from that, I think it was there that I went nutsy. Anchorage, of all places.
Since it sucked so bad, my father decided he was going to cut his contract prematurely and move down to Utah. Right then, I saw my chance and tried to persuade him to move to Humboldt County.
It almost worked. While he didn’t move to Humboldt County, he did move to Crescent City. The day he decided to cut his contract, my return trip plane ticket came due and I decided to take it back to Utah. At the very least, I knew that I could go to College of the Redwoods in Crescent City.
I think December of that year was one of the worst months I’ve ever had. It’s strange how one can go from having such an enjoyable life to one of sheer torturous hell in as little as six months. I came back to my grandparent’s house anticipating to be back on the North Coast soon. I don’t remember too much while at my grandparents, except that I was fighting boredom again, and that I had the really bad rash come over me for the third time, this time so badly that both my legs swelled to twice their sizes and my hand a third larger.
Oh, and I spent a lot of time exploring fractals on my wimpy computer. That was pretty cool.
Finally, on December 25, I took off for Crescent City. Once I got there, though, my father, who was so paranoid about the “bugs” made me shave off all of my hair and keep it off every few days. He did the same. We looked like freaks. At least it was Crescent City…
I think my father’s extreme naivety and paranoia has really hurt my relationship with him.
Anyway, I spent a month in Crescent City, when it looked like my father was going to get fired there (there was a scandal at St. Joseph hospital in Eureka involving my father and some lady who kept approaching him for sex, and since Sutter Coast Hospital is a part of the St. Joseph health chain…). My father planned to go back to Utah, but I pushed him to take me to Arcata. He did, and I literally begged my brother’s girlfriend’s (now fiancée) parents to let me stay (Jan 16). They let me, and helped me get into college. I had to get up at 5 in the morning every day, but I was fine with that.
Soon after, I visited Evan, and he told you about my arrival there. I found out that you had excommunicated everyone, and I thought that sucked. But, I was too relieved to be back to “doing something” to try to do anything. As I recall, I didn’t even want to try defending it (take the ball and run?) because I didn’t want to jeopardize anything.
Anyway, now I’m gonna try to be real brief. A lot happened that I’m not going to mention, including a car accident, moving every which way, stuff I bought, the many cars I owned (and destroyed), job searches, etc…
I got into CR on my birthday (01/23/02) and I took a fulltime load. I got a car on my brother’s birthday (03/20/02), and got into a car accident a week later (Maybe I *will* mention it!) because it had been 7 months since I had driven and I had only driven for 3 weeks total. Made a friend (among others) named Ian at school (more on him later), and finished the semester horribly (had a tough English teacher and a math teacher who couldn’t do algebra. Left a math problem involving a septic tank pump rate to be about the same as Niagara Falls. He flunked me, after I had passed college algebra equivalents twice. My plans of becoming a physicist were permanently ruined at that moment, and I didn’t go back into math for a few years… I should’ve taken the calculus placement test. Those teachers were much better. (as a side note, I’m sure I’ll get a degree in physics some day. Just not as my first degree))
Over the summer, I took more school, and got a job at WinCo Foods as a cart pusher. I made school secondary to work, since I had to survive first. Had a few cars at this time. This was the same time when the infamous “Summer of LAN” was happening at Evan’s house. Very crazy.
Fall semester came. Took classes part-time. Worked full-time. Made more friends. Had some very crazy experiences with my Japanese teacher that I hope never happen again (Evan can tell you about that. I refuse.). Met my soon-to-be first girlfriend, Jamie. I discovered alcohol (though I didn’t and don’t imbibe much). Towards the end of the semester (Dec 2002), Ian began to become my best friend and Jamie and I began to really hit it off. I couldn’t have been happier. I got Evan a job as a cart pusher. Though times were super shitty (rain as intense as a waterfall (black pavement makes rain fall harder) falling all day, drenching our clothes with cold Humboldt wet. cold cold COLD wind. Dangerous conditions in the parking lot) I had so much fun working with him that I’d do it all over again (it was almost like our special challenge… the busiest grocery shopping days of the year. You man enough to the challenge?). I didn’t do too well in school again, though not as bad as the first semester.
Spring semester came. I go to school part-time, and work full-time. Jamie becomes my girlfriend, and Ian my best friend. I move into Katie Von Kelso’s mother’s basement (such a COOL basement). I slack off really bad in school. I get promoted at work to a checker but, two months later, my father promises to pay for college, and so I quit my job on tax day (04/15). I was getting used to being lazy. I start getting a little bit bored, but I’m really loving life overall. Evan gets kicked out of his father’s house, and moves into his mother’s house. I and he stop communicating, for no reason, after a few weeks of me not working anymore.
By the end of the semester, I somehow finagled A’s (beginning in the last 2 weeks) when, on a test, my Japanese teacher gives me an A “for effort” (I was catching up as fast as I could). His giving me an A on a test I flunked inspires me and taught me that school is all about working hard (something I had forgotten due to my custody battles that happened in middle school). By the end of the semester, I finish ahead of the Japanese class by three chapters.
The summer that never ended happened. I go to school full-time. I accidentally start a circle of friends (Jamie, Kyle, Ian, and I) and I start excluding everyone around me. Boredom starts really creeping in and I start becoming a little depressed. Jamie notices unconsciously and begins to stop liking me. Instead, she starts liking Ian because he’s very positive and busy doing things. I get jealous because I’m too busy focusing on what he’s doing instead of what I’m doing. I get even more depressed, and the cycle starts spiraling downward fast. Gay people are hitting on me constantly at this time, which was kind of funny (I’ve gotten used to it), though to this day I’m still creeped out by the number of times it occurred (I think I had every single un-straight person in Humboldt County coming after me. No joke). Evan and I see each other maybe twice and I found out that he was having a real hard struggle with his girlfriend. I remember drinking Frosty’s Root Beer all of the time. It was a bitter-sweet summer, overall.
As a side thought, I think I understand now what you were going through with Megan those many years ago. Trying to get away, the heart-string pulling, getting yourself back together, falling back down. The treachery and the love. The manipulation. The “handcuffed to the towel rack and humped unapologetically” experience (don’t tell anyone that I’ve done that).
For me, I couldn’t let go of my group, though my group was ripping me apart. Jamie started telling me how she liked Ian because he did this or that, etc. etc., and she would tell me that she was bored with me. She meant the world to me, and her breaking away from me was so harsh that she would feel bad, she would come back, only to break away from me, again and again and again. I wasn’t ready to let go. It was total agony from the inside-out, and it made an interesting cocktail with boredom.
Fall Semester occurs. School part-time. Work full time at the end. Possibly the lowest point of my life happens in late October. That month, Jamie keeps dumping me, I start to really starve because my father reneges his support on me two months earlier, and I can’t find a job. I drop out of some of my classes because I’m too depressed and probably malnourished. I get tougher, though. I start visiting businesses every other day for work, though I don’t get anything until October 31, when twelve places call me to work for them for the holiday season (I went back to work at WinCo as a cart pusher with Evan and Greg, our Australian friend). Though I really cared about my friends, I break away from Ian and Kyle in December to end the madness of Jamie (I knew I couldn’t get away from Jamie without getting away from them). Cut-the-limb-to-save-the-body sort of thing. Two weeks later I break up with Jamie (instead of she breaking up with me). I start seeing PM again for the first time in a year and a half, and he gets my head on straight. Additionally, PM teaches me how to cook, and life in general. I went to planet health each morning with him and Saloman (Evan joined sometimes!), and breakfast club on Wednesdays.
It was that point of time that, after totally annihiliating my identity, right then and there, I felt in total control of my life and so I started building a new life around working hard. Strangely, for all the pain there, I think it was a necessary rite-of-passage into the real world. But, I feel as though something did die that semester.
I end up spending a lot of time with my friend Meghannraye.
Spring Semester 04 occurs. I go to school full-time (private lessons and college), work full-time. I start learning how to forge knives. I take private lessons from my Japanese teacher (since the college was out of courses), which is also where I begin seeing lots of old movies (he has a VAST collection of old movies in a large library). I learn from Pm. I start really loving life again, only this time it’s from being busy, instead of someone else.
In April, after not talking to her a single time, Jamie visits me. We start being friends again (with benefits?) At the end of the semester I start engineering an escape from grocery stores into the fascinating blah blah of clerical work. Evan contemplates going into the airforce.
Summer semester 04. I quit WinCo and work at Mad River Community Hospital (MRCH). Not much happens, other than I meet new people and life slows down. I start working with Katie Bob’s mom.
Until now.
However, I didn't do it for this page. I am writing a letter to a long-lost friend whom I'm trying to reconcile with. However, this overview, though it has more than I want, is a little bit too brief. There's so many experiences and memories that have occurred these six years, I couldn't begin to write about them. So, since this is the only compromise available, I'll take it.
This letter is not finished -- it took me the entire afternoon and evening to write (less dinnertime) and so there will be more later.
Here goes!
Jeremiah,
Six years is a long time. Because of that, I feel as though communicating via email won’t do any catch-up justice; instead, I have a horrid feeling that communicating via email will actually screw up the catching-up process. Despite past experiences that lead me to believe this instinct to be true, I still think I at least owe you a brief overview of what I’ve done these past six years – and an apology.
Way back in the Fall of 2001, I learned that I was ultimately going to have to go to Humboldt County if I wanted to go to college. I was still planning on going to Alaska (which I did in October) but I all but knew that the University in Anchorage was not going to accept me.
However, I knew that you absolutely hated Humboldt County and that dire consequences would result should I return (I remember what happened to Evan when he went with his stoner friend after you threatened to not be his friend anymore). But, to me Humboldt County cried out my name, and I didn’t know of any other realistic options. I couldn’t get a job anywhere because I was 16. There was just as much to do in Utah as there was in Humboldt County – nothing (this was shocking to me, to come back and realize that there was nothing to do). I couldn’t get into college in Utah (didn’t recognize my diploma). I refused to go back to High School because it was always such a boring experience (I moved around so often that I could never get into extracurricular activities), the school I would’ve went to was xenophobic (rednecks), and I simply wouldn’t settle for anything less than college. To top it off, I finally kicked the habit of playing video games (by installing a RH linux development distro), so I had nothing to do. Thus, I was idle all the time, preferring to study philosophy and anything else I could find (I’m sure I went insane a few times from reading philosophy/idleness cocktail). I would’ve lived unhappily ever after for much longer, though if it wasn’t for the fact that, while I was idle, all of my friends were still going to high school and becoming academically stronger. I felt like I was left behind on the academic trail. So, I decided that I had to take my life into my own hands and get to Humboldt somehow.
Now here’s where I have to apologize. As I wrote earlier, I knew going back was something you strongly disapproved of. And so, I knew I was effectively breaking off from you (we were supposed to be blasting that joint, never to return). However, as I thought about how to go about my relations with you, I recalled that you wanted others to break away from you rather than you breaking away from them because you didn’t want to be the causer of pain (I recall you saying that about your relationship with others after the whole Megan Miller thing). And so I decided, “Well, I’ll just write that we ought to split and go our own ways, since it is true that we are (I’m over here; he’s over there. I’m not going where he’s going; he’s not going where I’m going)”. What’s more, though, I wanted to conceal where I was going from you because I feared something nasty would happen. And this is where I need to apologize. I am sorry that I deceived you by not disclosing the full truth and splitting off from you needlessly. Though I don’t worry about it too much anymore because I know that I wasn’t very mature then (at least compared to now), I have never forgotten how bad I have felt for doing that. So, even though I’ve grown up so much since that time (as I’m sure you have – I have a feeling you’re just laughing at this lightheartedly) I’d like it if you would accept my apology.
Before I go on, I want to tell you about two strange things that happened. The first one is that I remember vividly that I kept getting dreams of you dying. Night after night, I’d have them, and I couldn’t understand them. I think I even told you one of them, once. Usually it involved you being sentenced for something horrible, and I was there to try and save you, but I just couldn’t. They were weird dreams. I don’t think dreams mean much in the way of the real world, though.
The other strange thing is that my father had a vision of me and two other people, in full military gear, dying on a hill, and my mother crying. although I had been up for almost 30 hours, I was so wide awake after he told me that, I was shocked. Now, I don’t think I believe in such things as visions. But there are some things that I won’t even test. And so, when he told me that, I have never considered going into the service ever again. (I really hope you weren’t one of the people sent to die with me in that vision, if it really was one).
(Hmm… this letter is getting much longer than I wanted. I’ll just give you the skinny and leave it at that.)
Anyway, while in Alaska, the entire family (my 2 sisters, my father, and I) basically suffered. Anchorage was not a pleasant place to be. I didn’t get into the University, and it’s terribly dark and lonely there at that time of year (there’s a lot of assholes on the road (and moose!). Everywhere we went there was an up-side-down car on the side of the road.). What’s more, my father got very paranoid about lice being on my body, since I had had two really bad reactions of swelling/speckled red spotted/itchiness that nobody could figure out. He made me keep the window to our apartment open, in the middle of winter, without the heater. Let me tell you, mummy bags are your friend.
During that time, I got a synthesizer, and spent a lot of time just practicing piano. Apart from that, I think it was there that I went nutsy. Anchorage, of all places.
Since it sucked so bad, my father decided he was going to cut his contract prematurely and move down to Utah. Right then, I saw my chance and tried to persuade him to move to Humboldt County.
It almost worked. While he didn’t move to Humboldt County, he did move to Crescent City. The day he decided to cut his contract, my return trip plane ticket came due and I decided to take it back to Utah. At the very least, I knew that I could go to College of the Redwoods in Crescent City.
I think December of that year was one of the worst months I’ve ever had. It’s strange how one can go from having such an enjoyable life to one of sheer torturous hell in as little as six months. I came back to my grandparent’s house anticipating to be back on the North Coast soon. I don’t remember too much while at my grandparents, except that I was fighting boredom again, and that I had the really bad rash come over me for the third time, this time so badly that both my legs swelled to twice their sizes and my hand a third larger.
Oh, and I spent a lot of time exploring fractals on my wimpy computer. That was pretty cool.
Finally, on December 25, I took off for Crescent City. Once I got there, though, my father, who was so paranoid about the “bugs” made me shave off all of my hair and keep it off every few days. He did the same. We looked like freaks. At least it was Crescent City…
I think my father’s extreme naivety and paranoia has really hurt my relationship with him.
Anyway, I spent a month in Crescent City, when it looked like my father was going to get fired there (there was a scandal at St. Joseph hospital in Eureka involving my father and some lady who kept approaching him for sex, and since Sutter Coast Hospital is a part of the St. Joseph health chain…). My father planned to go back to Utah, but I pushed him to take me to Arcata. He did, and I literally begged my brother’s girlfriend’s (now fiancée) parents to let me stay (Jan 16). They let me, and helped me get into college. I had to get up at 5 in the morning every day, but I was fine with that.
Soon after, I visited Evan, and he told you about my arrival there. I found out that you had excommunicated everyone, and I thought that sucked. But, I was too relieved to be back to “doing something” to try to do anything. As I recall, I didn’t even want to try defending it (take the ball and run?) because I didn’t want to jeopardize anything.
Anyway, now I’m gonna try to be real brief. A lot happened that I’m not going to mention, including a car accident, moving every which way, stuff I bought, the many cars I owned (and destroyed), job searches, etc…
I got into CR on my birthday (01/23/02) and I took a fulltime load. I got a car on my brother’s birthday (03/20/02), and got into a car accident a week later (Maybe I *will* mention it!) because it had been 7 months since I had driven and I had only driven for 3 weeks total. Made a friend (among others) named Ian at school (more on him later), and finished the semester horribly (had a tough English teacher and a math teacher who couldn’t do algebra. Left a math problem involving a septic tank pump rate to be about the same as Niagara Falls. He flunked me, after I had passed college algebra equivalents twice. My plans of becoming a physicist were permanently ruined at that moment, and I didn’t go back into math for a few years… I should’ve taken the calculus placement test. Those teachers were much better. (as a side note, I’m sure I’ll get a degree in physics some day. Just not as my first degree))
Over the summer, I took more school, and got a job at WinCo Foods as a cart pusher. I made school secondary to work, since I had to survive first. Had a few cars at this time. This was the same time when the infamous “Summer of LAN” was happening at Evan’s house. Very crazy.
Fall semester came. Took classes part-time. Worked full-time. Made more friends. Had some very crazy experiences with my Japanese teacher that I hope never happen again (Evan can tell you about that. I refuse.). Met my soon-to-be first girlfriend, Jamie. I discovered alcohol (though I didn’t and don’t imbibe much). Towards the end of the semester (Dec 2002), Ian began to become my best friend and Jamie and I began to really hit it off. I couldn’t have been happier. I got Evan a job as a cart pusher. Though times were super shitty (rain as intense as a waterfall (black pavement makes rain fall harder) falling all day, drenching our clothes with cold Humboldt wet. cold cold COLD wind. Dangerous conditions in the parking lot) I had so much fun working with him that I’d do it all over again (it was almost like our special challenge… the busiest grocery shopping days of the year. You man enough to the challenge?). I didn’t do too well in school again, though not as bad as the first semester.
Spring semester came. I go to school part-time, and work full-time. Jamie becomes my girlfriend, and Ian my best friend. I move into Katie Von Kelso’s mother’s basement (such a COOL basement). I slack off really bad in school. I get promoted at work to a checker but, two months later, my father promises to pay for college, and so I quit my job on tax day (04/15). I was getting used to being lazy. I start getting a little bit bored, but I’m really loving life overall. Evan gets kicked out of his father’s house, and moves into his mother’s house. I and he stop communicating, for no reason, after a few weeks of me not working anymore.
By the end of the semester, I somehow finagled A’s (beginning in the last 2 weeks) when, on a test, my Japanese teacher gives me an A “for effort” (I was catching up as fast as I could). His giving me an A on a test I flunked inspires me and taught me that school is all about working hard (something I had forgotten due to my custody battles that happened in middle school). By the end of the semester, I finish ahead of the Japanese class by three chapters.
The summer that never ended happened. I go to school full-time. I accidentally start a circle of friends (Jamie, Kyle, Ian, and I) and I start excluding everyone around me. Boredom starts really creeping in and I start becoming a little depressed. Jamie notices unconsciously and begins to stop liking me. Instead, she starts liking Ian because he’s very positive and busy doing things. I get jealous because I’m too busy focusing on what he’s doing instead of what I’m doing. I get even more depressed, and the cycle starts spiraling downward fast. Gay people are hitting on me constantly at this time, which was kind of funny (I’ve gotten used to it), though to this day I’m still creeped out by the number of times it occurred (I think I had every single un-straight person in Humboldt County coming after me. No joke). Evan and I see each other maybe twice and I found out that he was having a real hard struggle with his girlfriend. I remember drinking Frosty’s Root Beer all of the time. It was a bitter-sweet summer, overall.
As a side thought, I think I understand now what you were going through with Megan those many years ago. Trying to get away, the heart-string pulling, getting yourself back together, falling back down. The treachery and the love. The manipulation. The “handcuffed to the towel rack and humped unapologetically” experience (don’t tell anyone that I’ve done that).
For me, I couldn’t let go of my group, though my group was ripping me apart. Jamie started telling me how she liked Ian because he did this or that, etc. etc., and she would tell me that she was bored with me. She meant the world to me, and her breaking away from me was so harsh that she would feel bad, she would come back, only to break away from me, again and again and again. I wasn’t ready to let go. It was total agony from the inside-out, and it made an interesting cocktail with boredom.
Fall Semester occurs. School part-time. Work full time at the end. Possibly the lowest point of my life happens in late October. That month, Jamie keeps dumping me, I start to really starve because my father reneges his support on me two months earlier, and I can’t find a job. I drop out of some of my classes because I’m too depressed and probably malnourished. I get tougher, though. I start visiting businesses every other day for work, though I don’t get anything until October 31, when twelve places call me to work for them for the holiday season (I went back to work at WinCo as a cart pusher with Evan and Greg, our Australian friend). Though I really cared about my friends, I break away from Ian and Kyle in December to end the madness of Jamie (I knew I couldn’t get away from Jamie without getting away from them). Cut-the-limb-to-save-the-body sort of thing. Two weeks later I break up with Jamie (instead of she breaking up with me). I start seeing PM again for the first time in a year and a half, and he gets my head on straight. Additionally, PM teaches me how to cook, and life in general. I went to planet health each morning with him and Saloman (Evan joined sometimes!), and breakfast club on Wednesdays.
It was that point of time that, after totally annihiliating my identity, right then and there, I felt in total control of my life and so I started building a new life around working hard. Strangely, for all the pain there, I think it was a necessary rite-of-passage into the real world. But, I feel as though something did die that semester.
I end up spending a lot of time with my friend Meghannraye.
Spring Semester 04 occurs. I go to school full-time (private lessons and college), work full-time. I start learning how to forge knives. I take private lessons from my Japanese teacher (since the college was out of courses), which is also where I begin seeing lots of old movies (he has a VAST collection of old movies in a large library). I learn from Pm. I start really loving life again, only this time it’s from being busy, instead of someone else.
In April, after not talking to her a single time, Jamie visits me. We start being friends again (with benefits?) At the end of the semester I start engineering an escape from grocery stores into the fascinating blah blah of clerical work. Evan contemplates going into the airforce.
Summer semester 04. I quit WinCo and work at Mad River Community Hospital (MRCH). Not much happens, other than I meet new people and life slows down. I start working with Katie Bob’s mom.
Tuesday, August 1
Ain't Life crazy?
I think I've seen everything.
Before I write about anything, I'd like to say that I have been writing posts for this blog. However, they were written on the SAINTBOT, my really huge and really beefy computer, during the time when I was living in the little house in WestHaven, and unfortunately, I'm somewhere where the SAINTBOT is not. So, I will post those posts when me and that comp cross paths again. Or not.
In the meantime, I am using the PIMPBOT to post this. It's a pseudo-wimpy 2002 laptop, but it gets the job done.
Anyway, life has been f$&$#king crazy over this past year. I lived in a shack that was always cold. I met a crazy girl who was rich and obsessed with me, I manipulated said rich-girl into dumping me (I tried to dump her up-front, but she was too idiotic to understand "I don't like you" and "Get the hell away from me"), and I got plenty of scholarships for being poor and disadvantaged. I think I'm not disadvantaged; I'm just stronger than everyone else (14 mile bicycle ride to and from work. 1.5 hour ride to school. Every day. No potable water, nor central heating, and I slept next to a sack of potatoes. OH YeAH!!!).
I have written about this stuff in those posts that may never make it to this page. This was the stuff that made me feel invulnerable.
Until Graduation Day came along.
After graduation, I had to immediately pack up my belongings and get out of the shack. My father was taking me to see all of the UCs I was accepted to, and so we went on a road trip to go see them.
While we were in the garlic capital of the world, I got a message that UC San Diego had also accepted me from Laurie, Paul's mother. So, we modified our trip to make it all the way to San Diego.
And that's when I knew I should be there.
After going all the way down there, me and my father started our trip up to Utah. We couldn't have picked a worse day -- we picked memorial day! Traffic was packed through San Diego, and it took forever to get out of it. Worse, though, was when we got Los Angeles. We were stop-and-go traffic for 5 hours. It was insane. The few times that traffic moved, there were such dangerous weaving cars (going easily over 100 mph) in such heavy traffic that we kept seeing medical choppers and bumper traffic again.
We finally stopped at some interchange because we were so tired, and we figured it was more worthwhile to let traffic go (plus the winds in the Mojave desert were fierce). We slept for 2 hours.
We got up in the middle of the night, disoriented with time, and continued. There's something about being displaced that can make sleep unneeded. So, we got into Nevada, hitting Las Vegas.
I can't believe Las Vegas. The place is so unreal, it's disgusting. People there dressed up with gold necklaces and unbuttoned shirts. World land marks and skyscrapers fighting against... nothing. It reminds me of a studio set. Fantasy land is only within the view of the camera; around the view, wires, black, lightbulbs, and ugliness are the only things present (and it's the natural state of the room). It's all faux.
Anyway, we went to Caesar's Palace, and saw fake statues and stuff. When we got down to the strip, it was dark, but a few minutes later dawn came. We rode the outdoor escalators and saw the fountains. It was going to be a hot day (very windy, very warm).
We went to a few casinos, where I punished them by taking their money from the slot machine (I got a whopping 20 bucks. Pretty good for 3 nickels). Then, we went back on the trail.
We made it to Zion's national Park. There, we climbed Angel's Landing, a huge jutting piece of rock with a half-mile dropoff. There's chains everywhere, but people have been known to fall off.
The wind being gusty, my tired eyes dry, we went! We took plenty of pictures, and got to the top. There, we took a nap (though the wind made that hard). It's very beautiful up there.
Anway, we got down and visited our old homeland in Utah's Dixie. Nothing has really changed, apart from 1 or 2 places with that had a house (not even the fences have changed).
We spent the night at an old camping ground we used to use. It's by some reservoirs near Tropic, Utah (due to memorial day weekend, it was packed with campers).
We got up the next day, and kept taking pictures of everything. We went to Capitol Reef National Park (very pretty in its own right), reminisced on old times, and then made our way to grandma's house.
I will not say much about grandma's house. I lived there from a few days before June to July 6th. While there, I witnessed my own videogame addiction once again (I played a LOT of Rome:Total War, the expansion pack, and Samurai Warriors. I hate videogames, and I'm ready to not play for a long time), my sister's boyfriend punching a window in a drunken fit (he's in prison for now), and the death of my dog, Duke, from cancer (he had a huge tumor on the back of his leg, and polyps everywhere. We didn't know it was cancer until July 5th, when he was put down. His eyes were going out on him... I love and miss my dog).
I keep having pain and sadness befriend me over the summer. Why must it be so?
Anyway, my girlfriend, Alisha, bought me a bus ticket to Arcata because she missed me so much. So, I rode Greyhound to Humboldt on the 6th.
Let me tell you about "the dirty dog". Every sort of despicable creature can be found there. Drug users, gangbangers, the mentally ill, people of unnaturally low intelligence, you-name-it, greyhound has it. In fact, it's so crazy that I think it's perfect for those who want to be writers -- there's enough crazy shit that goes on on those busses that a writer will have no shortcomings of material.
In particular, for my bus trip, I rode behind a man and a woman who kept punching eachother (the women, being pregnant, cried and cried). Those people got off the bus early, at Wendover (which is not an official bus stop, just a rest stop). In the meantime, I moved to a different window to try to sleep (it was night time as I left Utah, going through Nevada). I did not sleep, though. There was no good place to sleep. The least worst spot I had was next to a broken window.
As we got into Reno, I met more punk-ass people who kept trying to hog their way into the front (nobody was moving because the bus door had not opened yet). After waiting in Reno for my next bus, I got on and went over the Sierra-Nevada Mountains (those mountains are ugly, in my opinion! Very barren, very sharp-looking, the sun is harsh. Maybe it was just me, from being cooped up in a nasty, packed bus?)
While going over the Sierra-Nevada's, I sat close to a man who kept begging people for a lighter. Once he got one, he went into the bathroom for 1 HOUR, and did not come out. A child had to use the restroom, but could not for a half-hour, so we, the bus people, forced the man out.
The place reeked. someone told me that the smoke coming out smelled like crack smoke. I can believe it.
Anyway, about 15 minutes later, the man was back in the bathroom again, only this time, his butch girlfriend in a short red dress went in with him for at least half an hour. I can only guess what went on in there (I have a feeling the lady had no underwear). We had to force them out again because another had to use the bathroom, and this time we were quick to understand that we had to force the man and woman out.
Once we got to the rest stop, the man and woman got off, staring straight, as if possessed. They did not take their stuff with them, and they did not get back on.
As we went down the road, someone decided it was their duty to notify the driver that the two weren't there. People were screaming that they were going to murder the couple as the driver turned the bus around to go find them. We never did, and the extra time delayed us 1 hour (though I didn't mind. I had a massive layover in San Francisco. I hate layovers)
Once we got into Sacramento, we changed busses due to our bus having mechanical problems. We picked up a lady in Vallejo, who sat next to me. I got a special sense of embarrassment when the lady started screaming at nonexistant people kitty-corner from her (people thought she was shouting at them, but it was only the demons in her head). She would holler things like, "No! I am not on the moon, you are! You are so out of it, you aren't on the moon, you are on venus, or Mars!" and "You want your government paycheck, you go to fort Knox. I don't have it. You cannot tell them to arrest me, I did not take it. You must go get it yourself". Though I was embarrassed, I was so used to the trip that I didn't care that much. I was thinking in my head, "Fuck it. Whatever. I don't care anymore".
Anyway, the trip from SF to Humboldt was okay. When I got to Arcata, I was so screwed up from lack of sleep that I was slightly incoherent. Unfortunately, this really hurt my chances of seeing my long-lost friend, Jeremiah. Strangely, he got into Arcata the same time as I did (11:30) that night! What's weirder, is that he went to APD, just like I did. Unfortunately, I didn't really have any money, so I left APD. But, I was in the same building as he! (we haven't seen eachother in over 6 years)
Now, if we had only established IM contact before I went to the greyhound...
heh, anyway, I got home, and me and my girlfriend couldn't stop making out. I'll leave that at that. You all can take a guess what happened.
In fact, every day I spent with her (which was over the course of 3 weeks) was bliss. She was so kind to me. She fed me, drove me, slept by my side, bathed me... She really does care about me. And I know it. I'll never forget those 3 weeks.
Unfortunately, I'm not happy unless I feel like I'm doing something important. No matter how blissful something is, if I'm not working I'm not happy. So, I got together with Erin Wiedner and, in the process, ripped myself from her (not that I wanted to. But some things must be done).
Me and Erin departed on July 25, and got to my Aunt Sandra (hereafter referred to by her nickname "nondy"). Strangely, I found out the day we came out that she existed! We tried to find housing, but had difficulties.
In fact, on the 29th, we split up. Poor Erin! He lost his driver's license, lost his support from his grandparents (they wouldn't buy him a $500,000 condo. So, he gave back the $500 check they gave him. Big slap in the face to them from him), lost support from my family (sort of. They just weren't willing for him to stay), and then lost my support. It was bad.
The next day, I met my cousin, who strangely is a mirror-image to me. He, however, is a redneck, has a truck, confederate flag (doesn't hate black people though. Just likes the flag design), parties a lot, etc etc. He's a good guy though. I can tell.
He and my other cousin (Kyle, who drives me every which way. He's going to UCSC) have been helping me find work and housing. I've found a place, which I'll move into Sept 1, but the work is eluding me. It'll come in time, though, I'm sure.
So, it's strange. Everyone around me who is not in San Diego has either settled down somewhere (and won't be seeing me, if ever), joined the army, or doesn't like me anymore. Everyone except my girlfriend (we talk on the phone for hours on end at night. But, that's another story)
I should be looking for a job some more. Latah.
Darrel
[20:31] I am TangentGirl: 5 yeras (and a couple states) later I still have the number
[20:32] I am TangentGirl: I love saying I am dial a cunt
[20:33] I am TangentGirl: and before I learned the lesson of online stalkers and used to write online a lot, I wrote under the penname "cuntgirl"
Before I write about anything, I'd like to say that I have been writing posts for this blog. However, they were written on the SAINTBOT, my really huge and really beefy computer, during the time when I was living in the little house in WestHaven, and unfortunately, I'm somewhere where the SAINTBOT is not. So, I will post those posts when me and that comp cross paths again. Or not.
In the meantime, I am using the PIMPBOT to post this. It's a pseudo-wimpy 2002 laptop, but it gets the job done.
Anyway, life has been f$&$#king crazy over this past year. I lived in a shack that was always cold. I met a crazy girl who was rich and obsessed with me, I manipulated said rich-girl into dumping me (I tried to dump her up-front, but she was too idiotic to understand "I don't like you" and "Get the hell away from me"), and I got plenty of scholarships for being poor and disadvantaged. I think I'm not disadvantaged; I'm just stronger than everyone else (14 mile bicycle ride to and from work. 1.5 hour ride to school. Every day. No potable water, nor central heating, and I slept next to a sack of potatoes. OH YeAH!!!).
I have written about this stuff in those posts that may never make it to this page. This was the stuff that made me feel invulnerable.
Until Graduation Day came along.
After graduation, I had to immediately pack up my belongings and get out of the shack. My father was taking me to see all of the UCs I was accepted to, and so we went on a road trip to go see them.
While we were in the garlic capital of the world, I got a message that UC San Diego had also accepted me from Laurie, Paul's mother. So, we modified our trip to make it all the way to San Diego.
And that's when I knew I should be there.
After going all the way down there, me and my father started our trip up to Utah. We couldn't have picked a worse day -- we picked memorial day! Traffic was packed through San Diego, and it took forever to get out of it. Worse, though, was when we got Los Angeles. We were stop-and-go traffic for 5 hours. It was insane. The few times that traffic moved, there were such dangerous weaving cars (going easily over 100 mph) in such heavy traffic that we kept seeing medical choppers and bumper traffic again.
We finally stopped at some interchange because we were so tired, and we figured it was more worthwhile to let traffic go (plus the winds in the Mojave desert were fierce). We slept for 2 hours.
We got up in the middle of the night, disoriented with time, and continued. There's something about being displaced that can make sleep unneeded. So, we got into Nevada, hitting Las Vegas.
I can't believe Las Vegas. The place is so unreal, it's disgusting. People there dressed up with gold necklaces and unbuttoned shirts. World land marks and skyscrapers fighting against... nothing. It reminds me of a studio set. Fantasy land is only within the view of the camera; around the view, wires, black, lightbulbs, and ugliness are the only things present (and it's the natural state of the room). It's all faux.
Anyway, we went to Caesar's Palace, and saw fake statues and stuff. When we got down to the strip, it was dark, but a few minutes later dawn came. We rode the outdoor escalators and saw the fountains. It was going to be a hot day (very windy, very warm).
We went to a few casinos, where I punished them by taking their money from the slot machine (I got a whopping 20 bucks. Pretty good for 3 nickels). Then, we went back on the trail.
We made it to Zion's national Park. There, we climbed Angel's Landing, a huge jutting piece of rock with a half-mile dropoff. There's chains everywhere, but people have been known to fall off.
The wind being gusty, my tired eyes dry, we went! We took plenty of pictures, and got to the top. There, we took a nap (though the wind made that hard). It's very beautiful up there.
Anway, we got down and visited our old homeland in Utah's Dixie. Nothing has really changed, apart from 1 or 2 places with that had a house (not even the fences have changed).
We spent the night at an old camping ground we used to use. It's by some reservoirs near Tropic, Utah (due to memorial day weekend, it was packed with campers).
We got up the next day, and kept taking pictures of everything. We went to Capitol Reef National Park (very pretty in its own right), reminisced on old times, and then made our way to grandma's house.
I will not say much about grandma's house. I lived there from a few days before June to July 6th. While there, I witnessed my own videogame addiction once again (I played a LOT of Rome:Total War, the expansion pack, and Samurai Warriors. I hate videogames, and I'm ready to not play for a long time), my sister's boyfriend punching a window in a drunken fit (he's in prison for now), and the death of my dog, Duke, from cancer (he had a huge tumor on the back of his leg, and polyps everywhere. We didn't know it was cancer until July 5th, when he was put down. His eyes were going out on him... I love and miss my dog).
I keep having pain and sadness befriend me over the summer. Why must it be so?
Anyway, my girlfriend, Alisha, bought me a bus ticket to Arcata because she missed me so much. So, I rode Greyhound to Humboldt on the 6th.
Let me tell you about "the dirty dog". Every sort of despicable creature can be found there. Drug users, gangbangers, the mentally ill, people of unnaturally low intelligence, you-name-it, greyhound has it. In fact, it's so crazy that I think it's perfect for those who want to be writers -- there's enough crazy shit that goes on on those busses that a writer will have no shortcomings of material.
In particular, for my bus trip, I rode behind a man and a woman who kept punching eachother (the women, being pregnant, cried and cried). Those people got off the bus early, at Wendover (which is not an official bus stop, just a rest stop). In the meantime, I moved to a different window to try to sleep (it was night time as I left Utah, going through Nevada). I did not sleep, though. There was no good place to sleep. The least worst spot I had was next to a broken window.
As we got into Reno, I met more punk-ass people who kept trying to hog their way into the front (nobody was moving because the bus door had not opened yet). After waiting in Reno for my next bus, I got on and went over the Sierra-Nevada Mountains (those mountains are ugly, in my opinion! Very barren, very sharp-looking, the sun is harsh. Maybe it was just me, from being cooped up in a nasty, packed bus?)
While going over the Sierra-Nevada's, I sat close to a man who kept begging people for a lighter. Once he got one, he went into the bathroom for 1 HOUR, and did not come out. A child had to use the restroom, but could not for a half-hour, so we, the bus people, forced the man out.
The place reeked. someone told me that the smoke coming out smelled like crack smoke. I can believe it.
Anyway, about 15 minutes later, the man was back in the bathroom again, only this time, his butch girlfriend in a short red dress went in with him for at least half an hour. I can only guess what went on in there (I have a feeling the lady had no underwear). We had to force them out again because another had to use the bathroom, and this time we were quick to understand that we had to force the man and woman out.
Once we got to the rest stop, the man and woman got off, staring straight, as if possessed. They did not take their stuff with them, and they did not get back on.
As we went down the road, someone decided it was their duty to notify the driver that the two weren't there. People were screaming that they were going to murder the couple as the driver turned the bus around to go find them. We never did, and the extra time delayed us 1 hour (though I didn't mind. I had a massive layover in San Francisco. I hate layovers)
Once we got into Sacramento, we changed busses due to our bus having mechanical problems. We picked up a lady in Vallejo, who sat next to me. I got a special sense of embarrassment when the lady started screaming at nonexistant people kitty-corner from her (people thought she was shouting at them, but it was only the demons in her head). She would holler things like, "No! I am not on the moon, you are! You are so out of it, you aren't on the moon, you are on venus, or Mars!" and "You want your government paycheck, you go to fort Knox. I don't have it. You cannot tell them to arrest me, I did not take it. You must go get it yourself". Though I was embarrassed, I was so used to the trip that I didn't care that much. I was thinking in my head, "Fuck it. Whatever. I don't care anymore".
Anyway, the trip from SF to Humboldt was okay. When I got to Arcata, I was so screwed up from lack of sleep that I was slightly incoherent. Unfortunately, this really hurt my chances of seeing my long-lost friend, Jeremiah. Strangely, he got into Arcata the same time as I did (11:30) that night! What's weirder, is that he went to APD, just like I did. Unfortunately, I didn't really have any money, so I left APD. But, I was in the same building as he! (we haven't seen eachother in over 6 years)
Now, if we had only established IM contact before I went to the greyhound...
heh, anyway, I got home, and me and my girlfriend couldn't stop making out. I'll leave that at that. You all can take a guess what happened.
In fact, every day I spent with her (which was over the course of 3 weeks) was bliss. She was so kind to me. She fed me, drove me, slept by my side, bathed me... She really does care about me. And I know it. I'll never forget those 3 weeks.
Unfortunately, I'm not happy unless I feel like I'm doing something important. No matter how blissful something is, if I'm not working I'm not happy. So, I got together with Erin Wiedner and, in the process, ripped myself from her (not that I wanted to. But some things must be done).
Me and Erin departed on July 25, and got to my Aunt Sandra (hereafter referred to by her nickname "nondy"). Strangely, I found out the day we came out that she existed! We tried to find housing, but had difficulties.
In fact, on the 29th, we split up. Poor Erin! He lost his driver's license, lost his support from his grandparents (they wouldn't buy him a $500,000 condo. So, he gave back the $500 check they gave him. Big slap in the face to them from him), lost support from my family (sort of. They just weren't willing for him to stay), and then lost my support. It was bad.
The next day, I met my cousin, who strangely is a mirror-image to me. He, however, is a redneck, has a truck, confederate flag (doesn't hate black people though. Just likes the flag design), parties a lot, etc etc. He's a good guy though. I can tell.
He and my other cousin (Kyle, who drives me every which way. He's going to UCSC) have been helping me find work and housing. I've found a place, which I'll move into Sept 1, but the work is eluding me. It'll come in time, though, I'm sure.
So, it's strange. Everyone around me who is not in San Diego has either settled down somewhere (and won't be seeing me, if ever), joined the army, or doesn't like me anymore. Everyone except my girlfriend (we talk on the phone for hours on end at night. But, that's another story)
I should be looking for a job some more. Latah.
Darrel
[20:31] I am TangentGirl: 5 yeras (and a couple states) later I still have the number
[20:32] I am TangentGirl: I love saying I am dial a cunt
[20:33] I am TangentGirl: and before I learned the lesson of online stalkers and used to write online a lot, I wrote under the penname "cuntgirl"
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