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"