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Time is free falling backwards and I'm walking through a thick crowd of people at the club and I feel nothing but disgust for anyone blocking my access to the bathroom. I want to burn this place to the ground suddenly. My expression displaying no emotion as I walk calmly with Sara trailing behind me. A moment ago I was gonna get high in the bathroom in back of the dance floor but Sara pointed out the group of security guards right by the door and two girls going in at once might alert them.

Minutes before that and I'm dancing with Stacy and Val and staring at the large flat panel mounted on the wall behind another bar showing random clips of music videos mixed with clips of gay porn as techno vibrates through the club in invisible waves that reverberate over walls whose color is endlessly shifting with the beat of the music. I walk over to Sara who is smirking at some drunk retard who decided to grind on a go-go dancer pole installed close to the bar. Not only is she drunk but she is swiveling her generously proportioned hips out of sync with the music in an attempt to look seductive. What completely seals the deal is the fact that she is wearing a circa 1987 fanny pack which hops up and down her lumpy waste as she mindlessly grinds against the grimy looking pole.

I look at her with an expression that mirrors the same expression I get when I'm driving and start to wonder if I left the stove on.

Sara "She's wearing a fanny-pack. ha ha! Do you see this shit Kristen."

K: "I'm not sure what I'm seeing. I think I'm going into shock."

Sara: "ha ha."

K: "I knew I should have brought my leg-warmers. That's the fucking sexiest thing I've ever seen. I need to use the bathroom (my glance tells Sara I'm going to do drugs and she knows I'm asking if she wants to join me). I'm walking now through drunken college girls and shirtless sweaty gay men and even though I see the security guards it doesn't register until Sara taps my on the shoulder.

And Suddenly I'm standing in front of Brooks house where the birthday party is going on inside. Sara and Val are with me and we start walking toward the club. I suddenly realize we forgot someone.

K: "Where the fuck is Stacy, Val? Where the fuck is that bitch."

Val: "Oh shit. We have to turn around, she probably wondering where we went."

K: (annoyed) "Weren't you the one who asked her to come with us?"

Val: (looking like a guilty little kid) "yeah."

K: "FUCK"

Sara: (laughing) "OK, should we call her cell and tell her to meet us here and well wait for her? (were already halfway to the club when I realize Stacy was left behind.)"

K: "And tell her what? Meet us by the fucking palm tree next to the shitty car parked in front of the abandoned looking crack-house? That really narrows it down. How the hell is she gonna know which palm tree, which shitty car, or which cracked out looking house. Every fucking block looks the same."

Val and Sara are laughing hard at my sudden rage and I take a deep breath. Sara and I just did some lines in Brook's bathroom before we left and it along with the pill under my tongue are all dissolving into to me distilling into a pointing yet undirected anger but also a strange sense of over-confidence which comes across as meanness although I am not in reality angry at anyone or anything except perhaps myself. In fact I'm happy to be here, with my friends. I hate those long weeks spent completely alone and I am grateful to be invited but I cannot suspend my need for drugs. I cannot tell my body and mind to just wait it out, I'm too far gone and there is simply not the option of saying no or delaying the inevitable. I accept the inevitable. The inevitable is programmed into the multiple alarms on my cell phone which tell me when its time to swallow some benzodiazapines before withdrawal sets in and when I'm in the safe zone to dose on more amphetamine so at least I have a general idea of how much I've taken so I avoid overdosing. And discovering Sara tonight has made the inevitable a little more tolerable and her excitement and even her curiousity give me feel a little more alive.


"Nothing would ever change; nothing new could ever be expected. It had to end, and it did. now in the dark world where I dwell, ugly things, and surprising things, and sometimes little wondrous things, spill out at me constantly, and I can count on nothing." - A Scanner Darkly


If this were a movie perhaps now you would watch the as the powder rushes out the bottom of a rolled up dollar and back into little orange lines on a mirrored surface. Perhaps you would see Sara's eyes open in slow motion as she leaned backwards and extended her arm taking the rolled bill from my hands. The camera would pan left as it captured her and I giggling and walking backwards out of the bathroom in slow motion to a perfectly synced soundtrack. Walking backwards through the house with technicolor tones, the house full of friends.And the camera would swing overhead and then pull out wide before zooming in to the couch we were sitting on. And now my eyes blink in slow motion as my mouth forms words unheard by the audience as I smile and lean in to tell Sara something. We have been sitting her talking for hours. She is asking me so many questions I start calling her the inquisitor. It makes me very nervous until she tells me something that changes everything. And shortly after she is watching left as I watch right to avoid discovery and in unison our heads tilt back and we both swallow a dose of slow death pulled from my purse. I open up more to her and she stops interrogating me (at least for a few minutes).

It's hours earlier now and she is firing questions at me in rapid succession about how I know that person or how I got to do work for this company or how I learned to do what I do. I decide she must be a recruiter. I get their emails everyday and their phone calls sound just as she does right now. I ask her if there will be a test later or if emailing her my resume would save her some time. She laughs it off saying she is just curious.

I don't trust her. I've learned living in California long enough to be wary of her attention. And in my mind I imagine her exending her hand, and as we shake hands I imagine her saying "Hi, My name is Sara. I was wondering how I can use you" as she smiles back at me warmly. I've seen so much fakeness in people that sadly now I expect it everytime I meet someone. I expect her to find out what I can do so she can manipulate me to her advantage. Why shouldn't thats exactly what I do at times. And with that said I'm typically extremely good at spotting it in others.

Yet I remain pleasant despite my growing mistrust and answer her questions honestly but with as little detail as possible. The thing is I WANT to trust her. I want to believe she simply enjoys talking to me. She is smart, funny, gorgeous, and a bit aggressive which I always find fascinating in others.

Minutes earlier and I'm glaring at Valentina standing in front of the counter full of food drinking her bud-light/Clamato as I explain to her that she is drinking shellfish. And a gorgeous girl with dark silky hair that's been glancing at me leans over the counter on the opposite side as she lays down a warm tray containing round play-doh looking objects and half are topped with a single piece of Edemame.

Its perhaps Tuesday now, a few days before I will be blindly racing through a very real darkness at a very real speed. Sara and I are sitting on my couch watching my favorite movie 'A Scanner Darkly'. She is grabbing a beer from the fridge and I ask her to grab me one as well. I never drink but I've started to occasionally lately and the combination of sedative-hypnotics and booze make me very drunk very fast. This of course is offset by the fact that we're both snorting line after line of amphetamine off the compact we pass back and forth with knowing glances. We talk about everything and nothing and I love every second of it. We talk about how funny and yet how very serious the 'ritual' of doing certain drugs are. You can get addicted to the ritual itself. Preparing the drug, cutting it, selecting what your going to use to administer it..a plastic straw, a rolled up bill, a glass pipe, a needle, an endless assortment of variations and techniques for each one. The art of poisoning yourself slowly. We talk late into the night and the night is shifting again to a few days before...

Its suddenly 2:17 AM Sunday Morning and I'm sitting in my car shivering slightly and playing with my i-pod as I glance every now and then at Stacy and Val standing in front of the car awkwardly groping and kissing each other in a drunken haze. Sara departed a half hour ago after we left the club and my phone lights up with a text message from her..

Sara: What up. It's Sara. Are all of you heading back to your place?

K: There in front of my car kissing and Val's trying to get her back to my place. I'm annoyed at this point.

Sara: Get those bitches to fuck!! Oh...And take pics!

K: Fuck! I know. I just wanna sleep.

Sara: And Stacy isn't down?!?! Wtf is wrong with her?

K: IDK, there just pg-13 kissing like their 12yr olds. I am bored and very tired at this point. What a waist of lesbianism.

Sara: Awe. Drop them off at Stacy's.

K: I'm ready to drop both their drunk asses off a cliff.

Sara: LMAO!

K: I hope you can sleep tonight. I have K-pins (Clonazepam) but what are you going to do?

Sara: Going to read. Sure I'll fall asleep eventually! I had fun with u! Glad we met!

K: Ha ha. eventually is probably more like tonight I'm going to read all of wikipedia and I'm going to drink 8 bottles of water and then I'm going to mop the kitchen floor and oh I should bake something!

Sara. HA HA!

K: I had fun with you too!

Time rewinds again and I'm sipping a coke as I glance over at Sara sitting next to me. We both smile. Her eyes are solid black. My heart is beating so fast and it feels tropical in here and I'm paranoid and happy and anxious and nauseous and fascinated with the girl next to me all at the same time. I tell her I can get Stacy and Val to kiss without actually telling them too. She smiles and tells me to do it.

A few minutes earlier and I'm sitting facing Val and Stacy sitting on bar stools kissing lightly. I look back at Sara and smile knowing I just demonstrated my well conditioned ability to manipulate people into doing things. Sara shakes her head in disbelief with a wide smile displaying amazement across her gorgeous face that makes me stare at her a few seconds too long before I catch myself and turn back to the other girls who seconds ago I gently encouraged to kiss by telling them I wanted photos and they had to get closer together. Then telling them it would be cute if Stacy were embracing Val. Then telling them how cute they look together. They giggle and I snap a few pics and act like somethings wrong.

"The flash washed the photo out. Lets try this again"

I motion them even closer together explaining because of the wall I can back up so they need to get even closer. I encourage them until Stacy is practically sitting on Valentina's lap.

"You guys look as happy as a couple of date-rape victims." They start laughing at my comment and it pulls them closer. "Common Stacy, look at that hot chick your holding. You guys are so fucking sexy." I act like I'm about the take another pic and they look at each other and kiss suddenly and I snap a pic with my cell phone and angle it so Sara sitting behind me can see the shot.

And now its earlier and Sara is pushing her weight against the bathroom door which looks a piece of plywood hanging on to the wall for dear life and painted a horrible shade of green which looks black in this dim light. Shes bent over snorting a line off my compact as I balance it in my palm. Someone wants to use the bathroom and we just look at each other with matching blank expressions and then start laughing quietly.

K: "Tell that cunt to fuck off"

Sara: "she pushing on the door, are you done?"

K: "almost"

I cut a big line out of the powder and inhale hard through the rolled up bill I pulled from my pocket. I can feel the junk slam into the back of my nasal cavity and in my mind I can almost see it as I imagine the powder hitting and rebounding off a pinkish surface like a shotgun blast. Its so much that my throat dries out in a matter of seconds and I start coughing and can't catch my breath.

K: "FUCK!"

Sara: "You OK?"

K: "yeah, lets get out of her before that fat bitch knocks the door down. Fucking cunt."

Speeding too fast around a too tight corner as tires screech through 1 AM darkness and I'm too spun to care. We're both laughing hysterically as I glance over at the dark haired beauty beside me. Her eyes reflect in oncoming light and they shine clearly like the thousand stars above us. We have been doing lines for hours and I glance in the rear view looking at my eyes now solid black and shiny like polished stones. We have known each other a week and it feels like I've always known her.
I smile back at my new friend.

Sara: "am I talking fast?"

K: "yeah"

Sara: "people tell me that but I'm not high."

K: "are you sure?"

Sara: "I just get excited about stuff."

K: "It's cute. I love listening to you talk. Your eyes get wide and you
always look like your right on the edge of discovering something.
Words flying at the speed of light and sometime I feel like someone
has spun me around a few times and I'm dizzy trying to take in
everything you say."

Sara: "wow. You said that really fast." (laughing both of us)

I accelerate and I notice I'm hitting 95mph. The freeway is mostly empty and I
start to slow as I pull up the ramp and turn towards her apartment.

And now its hours earlier and I'm playing with my food, making little swirls in rice noodles. Not hungry. I sip some overpriced bottled water that came in a giant tube that reminds me of an oversize vial. Sara is sitting across from me and were laughing about something. I start to make faces out of my mountain of pad Thai and she flashes me a curious look. She's talking about her family and how close they are and she is smiling as she says this. And I suddenly get it. I suddenly realize by her expression, her animated wide eyes, and the tone of her voice that she feels loved and accepted by them and more than that she feels part of something bigger than herself.

I'm happy for her and I ask her curiously about her sisters, her parents, what it was like growing up with them all. She is confident and radiant and I feel very lucky to be sitting here with her this instant. And almost to counter-balance my emotion, a sudden feeling of slipping over some invisible ledge. I'm trying my best to suppress this emotion and I refocus on what she is saying. I wonder what it must be like to have siblings. To grow up around others. To belong.

She is sipping some imported beer I don't recognize and I take the pause to excuse myself to the restroom. I quickly lock the door and throw my purse on top of the sink. I grab some ativan and chew it up quickly as I look for my contact lens case which is actually holding about 20 pills on one side and about 100mg of prescription amphetamine which I pre-crushed into a fine powder. I unscrew the lid marked with the giant R and pull the stylus out of my smart phone. I've learned this makes an excellent tiny shovel as the non-pointy end is molded to a slightly curved plane as acts as superbly as a tiny shovel.

Although I have not used it, I flush the toilet with my foot and proceed to turn on the water hoping if someone is waiting they will not hear me repeatedly scooping and snorting the tiny mountain of orange tinted powder. I pinch my nose together and look in the mirror making sure I've left no tell-tale trace. Then unscrewing the other cap I swallow a 20mg tab of the same substance, knowing it will not take effect at the same time. Someone is knocking on the door and I quickly pack it up. My nose is red but I don't care and I'm pretty sure it will not show in the dim light of the restraint. When I return I'm smiling and feeling much better until I sit down and realize she has paid the bill while I was in the bathroom getting high. I feel quite terrible now but despite my protest she simply smiles back.

And suddenly its morning now and I'm answering my cell to let one of my sub-contractors in. We simultaneously flip open laptops and I toss her a flash drive with my wifi keys. I'm thinking about what I should wear tonight when I see Sara. I think about wearing a dress but if she is not aware of me dressing up she might feel uncomfortable. I debate this as I go over the work plan and start setting up FTP connections to the server were working on. She was nice enough to stop and get me Starbucks on the way over and I'm grateful as I did too much Xanax last night and my 6am wake-up didn't come until 9:45am.

My mind struggling to find words which might make full sentences eventually if I get enough junk in my system to feel normal again. I finish the venti triple-shot coffee in the span of 5 minutes and proceed to pop open a red-bull and walk into my office making some excuse about forgetting my cell phone in there and quietly close the door and suck down my usual breakfast of lines and pills.

I'm actually going out to dinner tonight with a friend of hers although I never tell her this. What I do say is that I'm meeting a friend later and then ask her if she thinks I should wear the dress or just go casual. Shes looking at my closet full of clothes, half of which I have never worn when I pull the 9mm out from my bedside table and cheerfully say 'check out my new toy'.

Hanna: OMG Kristen.

K: it's not loaded. (rotating my wrist to show her the clip is not in the gun and then pulling and locking the slide back to show there is nothing in the chamber).

Hanna: That's Crazy.

K: well I have to move it before my housekeeper gets here and it scares the shit of of her and I didn't want to surprise you if you saw me carrying it to my office. Wanna hold it? (grin).

Hanna: Thanks, but I always tell people I've never even held a gun so that would

kinda ruin my streak.

K: You never held a gun? Don't be a pussy. Here. Catch! ( I'm acting but I never throw it)

Hanna: Kristen!

It's 2:03 AM. Seven hours and fifty-five minutes before I wake up to my cell ringing to let Hanna in. Thirteen hours and 17 minutes before I ask her what I should wear later that night. I'm curled up into a tight ball crying but not crying. A bottomless pit and the darkness trying to claw its way out of my body. I sit there catatonic not moving an inch yet the overwhelmingly sadness is manifesting itself in an almost constant unending stream of tears down my face, my neck, dripping onto my forearms crossed in front of me which are hugging my knees tightly as teeth grind and eyes are forced shut. I am shaking and my hand reaches out for the Xanax bottle beside me before I chew it up and finally letting it dissolve into my mouth...darkness follows and I'm falling, falling, falling. I wake up an hour later and cannot fall asleep until just after dawn.

I pull the slide to the Glock 19 back and lock it in place as the dealer asks me if I want this accessory or that accessory. I tell him I want two extra clips but they are out of stock. I ask for a box of hollow point bullets and he places them on the counter as I sign the receipt. I'm so tweaked out that I don't dare take off my sunglasses the entire time. Before I left the house I looked in the mirror and my eyes were solid black, a dead giveaway. I've been up for almost 3 days and I have no idea what happened other than staying up one night led to trying to fix myself for the next day which led to the second night being pure insomnia and here I am. It's twelve hours before I will come down. Twelve hours before I will shake and cry and wish anything could take this horrible and depraved feeling from overtaking me yet again. Too many lines, too many pills, too many hours, watching the sun rise too many times, and sleeping through hardly any of it. I pull back and flip the slide lock down and the gun violently coils back in a fraction of a second with the loud metallic snap. I place it in its case as the dealer puts the hollow points and the gun in a paper grocery bag, carefully folding the top down like I just bought some delicate cake from Ralph's and this will now protect it.

Time blurs into a panic of racing heartbeats and occasional shadows that mock me. I'm still traveling backwards and in this in between space, in this non-existence, nothing matters and everything matters way too much.

Everything You Wanted To Know About Sex But Were Afraid To Ask with Gene Wilder

and

Life is not a problem to be solved, but rather a mystery to be lived.--Kirkegaard

I left Eli in Siem Reap the other day and took a share taxi ride with six Cambodian non-English speakers to the city of Battambong in south western Cambodia.

It's a city of about two million, around the same size as Siem Reap buy very provincial by comparison. They are not geared up to chase after tourist dollar there like they are up the road.

For example, they have less that 100 moto drivers compared to countless swarms in Siem Reap. Sleepy little place with a big river through the middle and some nice old french colonial buildings.

When I arrived and left the taxicab I decided that I was going to walk until I found the river and then rest before picking a hotel. Thing was I had a full pack and a second bag and the temperature was pushing 40c and loads of humidity so I pretty much nearly died before admitting defeat and getting a moto to the river.

I mst have been a little dazed or something as upon arriving there I sat in the sun for half an hour before picking a hotel that looked walking distance from where I was seated and striking out for what turned out to be a three mile hike. Nearly died all over again before getting a room a collapsing:D

That was me done for the day as I had been drinking with a Khmer man I met at the guesthouse until the early hours in Siem Reap. I pretty much just stayed in the shade drinking water until the sun went away and then went downtown and had Cambodia's answer to the burrito for dinner.

The following morning I set off on Moto for Phnom Sampeau, where I had a local kid spend a few hours telling me about the history of the area and the old legends of how the hill was formed. He also showed me a water tank that used be a detention cell for over 400 people under the Khmer Rouge and the Killing caves - where they greviously wounded people and then threw them into this huge cavern to die.

It was almost impossible to reconcile this peaceful place, with it's temples and idols and breathtaking scenery, with such brutal and sad events. I had somebody describe vividly how they used eviscerate pregnant women having ct their babies from them and then throw both mother and child into the cavern. Insanity.

After leaving there I went to Phnom Banon a few miles away. The roads were graded dirt, and the effect was like driving on a dirtbike in a sandstorm with all kinds of crazy obstacles for the driver to dodge around.

Banon is the temple on Phnom Banon, phnom meaning hill and there were some ridiculous number of ancient steps to be climbed to get up there. Thing it was almost 400 in the heat. Happily I had the attention of a trio of ten year olds who trotted up the steps at either side of, and behind me, fanning me with their home-made jobbies%)

It was nice old temple, with stunning views of the countryside around for miles and miles. While I was up there I got talking to six young Khmer's, maybe around 19 or so. I drew a map of the world in the dist with an old bullet to explain the relative position of Ireland to Cambodia and we talked about our lives and countries for awhile. Learned some Khmer from them and taught them a little Irish in exchange. Smiles all round.

On the way back to town I stopped at te railway line, paid a few dollars to the man standing there and he dropped two small axles on the track, thew a wooden panel over the axles, whacked an outboard motor on back and we blasted off down this warped and twisted old rail line at a fine speed. I was convinced we would de-rail and break things, or that a fucking real train would appear from the opposite direction and smash us to bits at any moment!

That was about it for Battambang. Everything there closes at 10 or 11 apart from the karaoke so I went to a nice little bar by the river and read my book and talked to the owner for the night as the place was empty and I had only seen two other tourists in the whole town - and they must have been in a different bar.

Then yesterday morning I woke for the 8.30 bu to Phnom Penh, read all the way and got there around 2pm. I thought they were glad to see me, but it turned out the hundred or so Khmer men glued to the front and side of the bus were all moto drivers eager for a fare. I had to really shove, smiling all the time to save face, to get clear of the bastards and I bolted for a burger before finding a lonely looking driver to take me to my $3 guesthouse by the lake that won't exist in six months time as it's being filled for development.

It's basic as they come, no hot water and air-con, and standing on stilts out over the water. I bought a bag of weed within about ten seconds of entering the place, had a smoke and then spent last evening walking, moto-ing, eating and drinking my way around the city to get to know it.

It's certainly full on compared to the towns I have been in over the last week and a little intimidating too with traffic equaling total chaos.

I slept fitfully and this morning was out of bed before 6am and went to see the Killing Fields and the S20 detention centre. Both chilled me. I couldn't take my camera out of my bag in a place like that. It's truly horrifying, what took place there. The skulls, bones, cells, mass graves, implements of torture, clothes. . . I couldn't understand the people clambering all around with SLR's to get the perfect holiday shot. Cold.

I went down the markets this evening and bouth a zippo that must have belonged to a dead American G.I, if you go by it's age and inscription. It has a nice quote on the back: Yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery, today is the golden age in between. Haggled it to $4.

Went and visited a girlie bar after that and had two drinks with three beautiful women croucned in front of me on the bar, and one at each side or and behind me also. Then I took one of them to my guesthouse and we did fuck like bunnies for about three hours. Sweet woman, Mekarsh, who wants me to move in with her for the rest of my time in Phnom Penh so she can improve her English:D:D

I won't , but I will see her again before I leave.

Internet caf is closing up.

Over and out,

Jude

P.S. If I don't have crabs in the morning I never will!

The last week or so has sucked a big fat one. Work wise, far too busy. Too much stress. Also having 2 days off as my world crumbled did damage to an already damaged track record of absenteeism due to mental health problems.

I saw my shrink as I was having a crisis with a break up, also some other issues that he explained were very likely side effects of mianserin and seroquel. I thought i was getting fat but its fluid retention in my legs from those drugs. I have been taken off them and given valium to use for anxiety and sleep. I will not abuse that drug. Im smarter than that.

I also got an apology. Whether I accept it or not or if I can really be friends after being treated so poorly remains to be seen. But I think the 4 years of mutual respect will heal the hurt eventually. I care a lot about him but cant think straight enough to make any decisions about keeping a friendship going now.

I need to fix practical things. I cleaned up the house and put up an ad for a flat mate on the net. Less than 20 mins later, Declan the Irish builder rang and wanted to inspect. He just left. Hes moving in next week.

So Im relaxing about this house now. Also having a flat mate will be good company and he seems cool so it looks like Im not going to go downhill any more.

Liz always bounces back. Im smiling again!

"Hello."

K: "Hi Mom."

"Hi Kristen. How are you"

K: "I'm fine. How are you and dad doing."

"Were doing OK. Your father is outside mowing the lawn."

K: "oh, really?"

"Hows work going."

(I've learned from experience her estimation of me as a person is based on a formula which is based on my Income and level of business success. It's also her favorite topic.)

K: "Very busy, but very good. What are you both up too this week."

(at this point I mute the cell phone as I quickly open a new bottle of Klonopin. I don't want her to hear the click click click of the bottle and I press and open it).

"...and THEN she proceeded to tell me I needed to have this appointment pre-approved by our insurance. So I said forget it."

K: "Um, well if your sick don't you think you should go?"


Side Note:
I KNOW goddamn well she will not go to a doctor. She doesn't trust any of them and will instead complain about how rude their front office people are, or how poorly trained they are these days. It's interesting to note that while she harbors a deep hatred and mistrust for the medical profession she has never hesitated to hand me over to them like some sacrificial lamb from around age 5 onward. By 16, I had a team of specialists, was being dosed on Lithium and Trazodone, and Ambien to such a level I would often forget forget my phone number or home address when asked. She had, and still has a grim fascination with doctors and procedures and whatever pharmaceutical they had me on at the time. Ironically I can never once remember being sick. In fact I still never get sick. Ever. And I cannot figure out what her motivation was to do this.


"No. There all a bunch of nuts anyway. Remember that time, you were about 10, and they gave you the wrong drug at the pharmacy and you almost died."

K: "No, I don't remember that. What was I being treated for anyway? I don't ever remember being sick."

"I don't remember. Is it sunny there today?"

K: (note the change of subject) "Ah..yeah. It's Southern California. Everyday is the same here. Speaking of that. I was wondering if you and dad would want to come visit me for a week or two. I've been really stressed and would love to see you. I know dad has vacation time and I'll pay for the flight, rental car, hotel, whatever you want."

"Mmm. No, I don't think I want too."

K: "Oh. I just thought.."

"I JUST saw you in September, Kristen. (Read: 9 months ago) Besides I have plenty of stuff to do here and it's a long flight. (Read: I'm not worth the travel time.)

K: "Ok. I just thought it might be nice to see you. Your the only family I have."

" besides last time I was there you looked so tired and too thin. What did you eat today"

K: "Ya..I remember. You got off the plane and I went to give you a hug and you said "Jesus Kristen, you look like a damn junkie." Thanks for that by the way. I'm going to go now..tell dad I said hi."

"Ok. goodbye."

I got a question about jaw clenching.. i did 4 hits of exstasy and I want to know if exstasy can make you clench your jaw about a month or 2 after your high. i only did exstasy once.. well.. i tried 3 times but i wasnt high off it.. but the 4th time i did it i was real high..

Just Answer These Questions For me.

1. Do you jaw clench after your high is way long done even tho you did exstasy a month or 2 ago?

2. Do Long Term Effects go away after awhile? or is it for ever

3. Do you get a long term effects even tho you were high off it once.

4. Does Short Term temporary after effects means only after just a lil while after your high?

5. And is Long Term effects Give You headaches for ever or just a really long time

6. and how long is Long Term Effects?

7.Does Intermediate Side Effects mean When Your High on it. or the side effects after your high is long over.

plz answer this ASAP it would be helpful.

Friday night and I'm swearing as I step out of still-running shower balancing on tip-toe and I hop naked into my hallway and grab the new bottle of shaving lotion off the counter. I hop again back onto the bathroom rug the run and back into the shower leaving a trail of water behind me. I hear my cell on the top of the toilet making a pinging sound and I wipe both wet hands and reach out and grab it pulling it into the shower but holding it above the stream of water and push open the miniature keyboard that looks like it was designed for Barbie. It's Valentina. FUCK. I told her be here by seven and I'm nowhere near ready. I have no concept of time. Hot water streams down my back and I turn and txt her back..

"I'm not ready - hair is wet. Park on st."

"tlk some vagrant n2 letting u n2 front g8t."

Val: "OK"

She hung out on my couch. We talked as I finished getting ready. Then, I popped an Ativan and 30mg of Adderal and crushed and snorted about 10mg more off my black Revlon double-mirror compact cutting the crushed drug into finer powder with the edge of my Starbucks card. At the same time wondering if I should use black or brown mascara.

Val: "(laugh) whats that?"
Kristen: "amp"
Val: "(staring)"
Kristen: "you want some?"
Val: "sure"

I snort another line and cut a tiny one for her.

Val: "(snorts line) I'm hungry"
Kristen: "wait, you won't be in about 10 minutes"
Val: "really?"
Kristen: lets go.

We need to stop by the store before the party and I pull swiftly into the parking lot as a people with carts jump out of my way. I don't tend to slow down. Inside I grab what I need quickly and then proceed to hunt for Val, who I find by the Deli Section.

Val: "(looking at the circular olive bar) I want an olive"

Kristen: "Bitch, reach in and take one. I don't care."

Val: "what if I don't like it?"

Kristen: "put it back in there. I don't give a fuck. Olives are gross, I'll never eat out of there. Especially now that you stuck your hand in there. You may as well lick a few and put them back at this point. We don't have time for that though, lets go Chicka."

I'm carrying some sort of meat-cheese tray and I'm secretly terrified imagining pepperoni or cheese juices running out of its plastic cover and onto my designer skirt. I hold it out from my body like its a vial of AIDS as Val looks at me, rolling her eyes.

Were listening to a selection on my I-pod I've entitled suicide-death-metal as I turn up the volume and coast through a series of back street intersections. "Sad but true" blares through the car as I drive onward.

We find the house quickly and as I enter my eyes dart quickly around the room looking for familiar lesbians. I know quite a few.

Brook: "Hey Kristen"
K: "Hey Brook, nice place, nice party, happy B-day girly"

I introduce Valentina to the few girls I know there and soon her and I are standing around looking at the impressive spread of food (non of it appealing to me despite the fact that all I've had all day is a Grande vanilla latte and a blueberry oat bar from the Bucks") I'm quite high on the amp and its making me talkative and slightly hostile. I start ordering Val to do stupid tricks with the food like balancing cheese blocks on her out-stretched tongue as I take pictures with a digital camera I found laying on the counter. As I do so I grab and lick the icing off a cupcake. I want the sugar. I take a bite of the cake part and throw the rest away.

A girl I would later come to know as Stacy walks up behind me and starts making comments on my "sculpture". Actually its my empty red-bull can topped with the cupcake wrapper flopped over top looking like a dysfunctional palm tree. A few of the girls are looking at me like I'm insane. I don't care at this point and continue to add ingredients to my statue. I'm laughing and my heart is pounding and watching val perform further escalates my frenzy.

Across the room I see a gorgeous girl with dark silky hair leaning against the back wall occasionally looking at me in a slightly sullen and expressionless way that immediately fascinates me not only because its typically my demeanor but I can sense something else familiar. I want to talk to her but I wait, I play with the food, I act uninterested as I top my creation with a maraschino cherry.

She casually walks over to the counter on the opposite site across a vast landscape of BBQ chips, meat and cheese, tiny sandwiches, and a dozen other food items I have no interest in. She lays down a warm tray containing round play-doh looking objects and half are topped with a single piece of Edemame. She flashes me a slight grin and I ask if there vegetarian. She says yes so I grab one and pop it into my mouth. I'm PRETTY sure I picked one with the edemame but I suddenly doubt myself as Val yells into my ear "you just ate chicken, ha ha". "No, I didn't, there vegetarian and your drunk off alcoholic shellfish juice (shes drinking Bud-Light-Clamato) so I hardly think your one to tell me what I'm eating. I look at the tall pretty stranger that might have just fed me chicken and say rather harshly "I thought you said these were vegetarian". "Oh, these are" (pointing to the Edamame topped side). My mind races trying to remember the sensation of the Edamame in my mouth but I cannot remember. At this, Val adds "Well Kristen, if you throw-up well know for sure you ate the wrong one". I try and give her my look of distain but my face is still partially frozen in botox and all I can do is give her a serious look which frustrates me even more.....to be continued.

This hurts.

But sometimes you gotta do the right thing and set someone who isn't happy free.

I am going to lay low a while and lick my wounds (no pun intended.)

Liz

When I was a sophomore in high school I met a guy who was teaching there for a semester under a grant from some artist in residence program. He died in 1999 and I still find out little tidbits about him to this day. Something that everyone has a different account of is his having gotten fired from a university teaching position in the seventies.

People who liked Bill tend to believe it was because of his peace activism and having organized protests against the ROTC presence at the university. People who didn't care for Bill much tend to think it was because he was using drugs and exposing students to drugs.

Bill told me that he wasn't using drugs during that period. I believe him. Another complicating factor was that Bill fell down an elevator shaft at the university, broke many bones and the university had to pay a settlement.

The number of people with memories of what was going on with Bill and the university in the seventies are dwindling. I think the biggest factor in Bill's having gotten fired wasn't the purported drug use, the falling down the elevator shaft, or the organizing protests. I wasn't around at the time but I'm relatively certain that the overwhelmingly biggest factor was Bill's bipolar which was pretty severe and didn't receive any substantively effective treatment til a later period. Bipolar tends to make people monomaniacal about things and socially retarded. You can not navigate academic politics in such a state. I'm sure all those other factors played into the whole situation.

Bill's having fallen down the elevator shaft is always attributed to his having been messed up at the time by university partisans. My opinion is that if you push an elevator button and the door opens to a shaft, the malfunction and elevator owner is at fault regardless of the persons state chemical or otherwise.

When Bill was in the hospital they had him on morphine and then demerol. The whole time he was on opiates he was visited by bird-like man size creatures with big eyes that looked like glass balls. He called them neepons. I assume they told him their name or he 'just knew'. He made many sculptures and paintings of neepons after he recovered. Bill had other visions during other periods, but they tended to be garden variety Catholic mysticism with Mary and Jesus type stuff.

A friend of mine with a used bookstore had a gallery dedicated to Bill's work on an unused floor of his store. For many years I had assumed that the owner started the gallery because he was such a big fan of Bill's work. He was a fan but only recently did I find out that the gallery was founded as a conspiracy to get Bill's works out of Bill's hands. Sometime in the mid-seventies Bill would start burning his works whenever he was depressed which was pretty often.

Bill got me interested in politics and social causes.
Freshman year I was on the wrestling team. At some point my former wrestling coach and English teacher confronted Bill about having me all worked up about "Nicaragua-Sandinistas and Contras, South Africa and apartheid --- when I should have been focused on Homecoming, Prom and dating girls." I've had no remorse about not doing things like homecoming and prom.

Bill volunteered in soup kitchens and started taking me along. I went with him to various protests and rallies. He really widened my world a lot. He never told me I was a disappointment when I later joined the Navy, but I know it disappointed him. He was Army Air Corps during WWII. He might have understood the desire to get out of ones home town and adventure, but his world view tended to be that everything the US was doing militarily in 1985 was unjust and barbaric and to be avoided.

Anyways someone gave another tale of his having been fucked up when he fell down the elevator shaft the other day. (No one else was in the building at the time, he lay there screaming for help from like midnight til 5 AM.) I reminisced about all the different accounts I've heard about the man over the years.

Well Bill if the deceased have any influence on our mundane lives I know your pushing still for Peace & Justice.

im the type of person that always has to be busy. i have to have an agenda or purpose; without it im lost (youre virgo is showing). i have to be organised, and my mind entertained 24/7. i have to be in control of every fucking pointless (and not so pointless) area of my life and always be busy; without that; i crumble and ponder. procrastination is bad, mmkay. not for others; but it tears me, limb from limb.

i love routines, projects and research and if im bored i pity those closest to me as i strive to look for something new and drive them crazy in the meanwhile. i fear that if i stop; ill think/feel too deeply; if i think/feel on that level; ill become miserable; if i become miserable ill be of no use to anyone; if im of no use; i may as well be dead. it makes no sense to me either; but im a fit little shit with a ruthless attitude; and its only now as im turning 30 that i accept that.

its a wierd and burned out journey im on; but one that ill never stop. i dont even know where the pause button is, nor would i know what to do with it in my possession.

today was supposed to be a day of rest, but rest is something i cant do. armed with a beanie, multiple layers of clothing and powerade i did my ironing, paid my bills, contacted wageline and the ato about the issues with my pay, tore apart my kitchen cupboards, scrubbed the bathrooms and reorganised my walk in robe.

im a fucking retard. i was supposed to rest; and will suffer for the remainder of the week for my silly efforts; but feel accomplishment through mindless achievement. god knows why.

when mr cat arrived home he pissed himself laughing when he'd realised what id done and said "youll never change"; but i hope i do.

goodnight bluelight

after psyching myself up to do the righteous and noble thing; i straightened my hair, got dressed and called my boss as i was walking out the door/getting into my car to inform her of my decision. she answered with "hello! you sound terrible" and went on to say "please stay at home; i appreciate you wanting to come in; but with how severely understaffed we are; i cant run the risk of you being in the office and spreading your illness further".

yay! right? WRONG. "i have rostered you on for saturday from 9:00-5:30pm and rescheduled your appointments for then. see you tomorrow!"

im not sure whether to be happy to have the day off to heal or am pissed that i have to work this weekend, and let my family down. but have since exchanged my suit and heels for tracksuit pants, a warm sweater, slippers and a lemon tea. ill have extra time on my hands to pay all my bills, continue with the prune and do some ironing thats been growing in the laundry basket.

sometimes optimism can backfire; give you lemons, ironing and bills; and fuck up your weekend ha.

last night after writing my blog entry i was reading a bunch of shit on the interwebs and stumbled across this article. the content is basic knowledge; but was a godsend to have fallen in my lap (vision) at just the right time. after reading it and reacting with "FUUUUUUU"; i made the executive decision to get out of bed and organise myself to go to work this morning. i cant let my team down, i must go to work.

i dont want to as i feel like death warmed up; but figure its nothing a good couple of cold and flu pills armed with pseudoephedrine (hold the phenylephedrine kthx) and a can of red bull after multiple coffees cant fix. i am a team player and the only way im going to prove that is through fighting the storm and braving another day. my company and clients rely on me being there; so im going to be.

ill probably come home with my tail between my legs and a blubbering mess after carrying the torch of optimism; but id rather challenge myself and feel achievement once the day is over; than be at home and riddled with guilt. fuck that noise.

wish me luck guise. to the hair straightener!

BEING A GOOD EMPLOYEE
By
Bill Cottringer

A big part of being happy and successful, involves your approach to work. These simple requirements are a prescription for the right approach to work in being a good employee If you practice these simple suggestions you are likely to get recognized and rewarded and feel good about the work you do.

1. SHOW UP ON TIME.

No job can run efficiently without all employees being present and showing up on time. Absences and lateness are very disruptive and put an undue burden on other employees. Poor attendance always puts a company's business at risk. There is nothing more admirable than an employee having a perfect attendance record, and that gold standard is bound to get the employee noticed in a positive way.

2. BE NEAT IN APPEARANCE.

No matter what job you are doing, there is no reason not to be neat in appearance. Your appearance reflects on both you and your employer. A good appearance speaks well of you and your employee, while an unkempt appearance speaks poorly. A good appearance is a good advertisement for the company, and can mean more business and more opportunities for all employees. Another good reason for being neat and clean is that you often feel the way you look. Look good, feel good and do good!

3. DEMONSTRATE A POSITIVE ATTITUDE.

All business is founded on positive attitudes by employees. Businesses can't succeed in giving customers quality service without positive attitudes. There is no room for negativity. Negativity will interfere with other employees' productivity, make for an unhappy workplace and keep the company from meeting its business goals. Having a positive attitude makes work more enjoyable and passes the time quicker. Being positive is being upbeat, optimistic and enthusiastic and showing a willingness to go the extra mile.

4. GIVE THE JOB YOUR BEST EFFORT.

Employers only ask that you give the job your very best effort. This means doing the quality and quantity of work that is expected in a conscientious, diligent manner. There is no reading between the lines here. Just do your best and most employers are going to be happy with you. Make sure you know what is expected and that you can and will do that. Every employee has it in him or herself to give the best effort. Besides, you really can't feel good about yourself is you are goofing off, doing the bare minimum or performing poorly.

5. RESPECT YOUR SUPERVISOR.

Supervisors are in the position they are because of their experience and abilities. The least you can do is to approach them with courtesy and respect. If they tell you to do something, it is for legitimate reasons. Do it without giving any lip. If a supervisor does something inappropriate or wrong, you don't need to be rude, abusive or insubordinate. There is always a management staff who will listen to you. Getting along with your supervisor is a sure way to win his or her respect and attention.

6. FOLLOW THE RULES.

Policies, work rules and safety guidelines are all developed with your welfare in mind. These rules aren't silly, they are there to help you help the company stay legal, remain safe and be prosperous. Always know what the rules are and follow them. It can't get any simpler than that. Rule-breakers cause employers heartburn and so that is not the way to get on the right side of your employer. You can't go wrong by following the rules.

7. BE HONEST.

All businesses have to be honest and the only way they can do that is if all employees are honest. Do not do anything that will even be misperceived as being dishonest. Tell the truth, don't go places that are off limits, manage your time to be productive, and don't take things that aren't yours. Also, most gossip and rumors are dishonest, so avoid those things too. When you are honest and tell the truth you never have to remember anything. Being dishonest is very confusing and will always catch up to you sooner or later.

8. TAKE CARE OF EQUIPMENT.

Equipment misuse and abuse can be costly for a company. This extra cost can take away pay raises for employees. Don't misuse equipment and don't operate any equipment you are not trained on and knowledgeable about. Always ask if you are not sure. Take care of all supplies and equipment as if they were your own. Always report faulty or broken equipment promptly.

9. ASK QUESTIONS.

You never have to feel stupid about asking dumb questions. Actually the only dumb question may be the one you don't ask. Whenever you don't understand something fully, ask questions. The best way to learn how to be an excellent employee and succeed in your job is to ask a lot of questions. You can learn much valuable information from asking good questions. Don't allow employer's to assume you understand the job and what is expected of you, when you don't. If you don't ask questions, you will be the loser.

10. SPEAK UP.

If you don't agree with something or if you think you have a better way of doing something—speak up! But do so assertively and politely, not loudly or disrespectfully. If you speak up about something in a rational and unemotional way, you will be listened to. When you whine, complain or threaten, you are wasting your words and certainly not being a good employee who will be recognized and rewarded.

11. LEARN MORE.

One of the easiest and best ways to get ahead in a company is to show the initiative and motivation to learn more about the job. By seeking more training and improving your skills, you are grooming yourself for a promotion. Employees who do this are sure to get recognized and rewarded. Employees who just do their job and nothing more, are telling the employer that is all they want. And most likely, that is all they'll get. There are always managers in your company who have important skills and knowledge. Find them and ask them to be your teacher or mentor.

12. GET ALONG WITH EVERBODY.

All jobs require good teamwork. Employees should make an effort to get along with each other by being friendly, cooperative and helpful and working as a team to get the job done better than any individual could do, alone. Many of the company's goals can be met with good teamwork. Without good teamwork, the quality of service a company is trying to deliver is in serious jeopardy. When you get along with your fellow workers and are a good team player, you will enjoy your job much better than if you go off on your own and have trouble with other workers.

The simple rules to success and happiness at work don’t have to be reinvented, just practiced. When you do this, work becomes much more satisfying and the company prospers from your valuable contribution.

Click to expand...

So yeah, I finally went diving around my area a few nights ago... Eventually found about a million bagels by Einstein Bros. Got 6 or 7 of the asiago cheese kind, and left the rest. So I've been eating them for a couple of days, ran out this morning, and now I'm addicted. Went back a little while ago and guess what?

NO BAGELS

What am I gonna do?!

Trying to get into a headspace where I can realise just how fake all of this anxiety is. I'm going to go out for a run in a second, have to eat something first though because I had only one meal the whole of yesterday and I feel really weak. I want to start running on a daily basis again. Last year I kept it up for 2 whole months, and I remember feeling so proud every day, that I was doing something good for myself.

Not liking the direction my life is going in at the moment. So I'm not as fucked up as I was exactly one year ago, I drink a lot less and take a lot less drugs... But sometimes I wish I could just give it up altogether.

Cocaine is so evil! I'm mega paranoid about going to work tonight, feel as if I made a huge fool of myself this weekend. Which I probably did,
but realistically I know people are not going to judge me or make a big deal out of it. I know when one of my friends acts like a twat when they are coked up or drunk it's more "haha what a fool" than "omg this person is so fucked up, I need not to know them". So why can't I be cool about this?

Aint Nobody's fault but mine
Aint Nobody's fault but mine
If I die, and my soul is lost
Oh that aint nobody fault but mine

I got a Bible in my home
but god he done left me all alone
If I die and my soul get lost
Ohhh, that aint nobody fault but mine.

I got these cuffs around my hands.
I got these cuffs around my feet.
And they takin me, to penitentary
Oh and it aint nobody's fault but mine

Lord, Lord, lord
Nobody's fault but mine
Oh, nobodys fault but mine
Sureley I die, before I do my time
But it aint nobodys fault but mine.

I got a Bible in my house
Sureley god wont leave me, in my worst hour
But Im head'n on a bus
about 50 of us
And it aint nobodys fault but mine.

Mama she taught me to be strong.
Daddy taught me to carry on.
But now they gone, and Im on my own
And it aint nobody fault but mine.

And I got a room that got a bed.
I got a hard place , to rest my head.
I went to a place, yeah they call it upstate.
and it Aint nobodys fault but mine.

I said Lord, Aint nobodys fault but mine.
It Aint nobodys fault, but mine,
Oh, If I die, and my soul is lost.
Oh that aint nobodys fault but mine.


Blind willie johnson and plenty of others sang this and everbody change the words to fit their own song, i took my turn at it

but the gods are immediately perceptible to each other, as quickly as like is to like, and so too had M. de Charlus been to Jupien

Maybe I'll find enough oranges to make some fresh juice, or maybe even bacon! Wish me luck

so when i moved into this place, i didn't know they would be painting the building over the summer. just generally irritating, nothing huge yet.

they arrive about 8.30, perfectly reasonable and fine time to start working. the thing is all they do is bullshit loudly behind the building for the first hour before working.

they don't move their ladders out of the driveway; that is, they don't take them down but leave them against the building so we park on the street or cut through the grass.

they have worked their way around to my part of the building, so there is scraping / pounding noises lol and guys peeking in my windows.

i know its gotta get done, just didn't know it was happening ><

Well, here I am in Siem Reap, Cambodia. I'm sharing a room with a jewish boy from the USA who I met while just after the border crossing with Thailand.

My flight was quite long - I left London at 9.30am on wednesday morning and had a brief stopover in Mumbai before getting a connection to Bangkok and arriving at 7.30am, local time, on Thursday.

I've heard so many bad things about Thailand and the Thai's from so many different people that I got a bus direct from the airport to a place called ArranPrakesh -sp?- which is seperated from poipet in Cambodia by the border.

It's a crazy little place iwth a huge and filthy market and every kind of hawker, hooker and beggar you can imagine.

I didn't have a visa, so I filled out the paperwork, attached two passport photograps and placed a $20 bill in the pages of my passport before approaching the immigration officials.

Naturally they wanted to get some money for themselves on top of the $20 visa fee, and at first they insisted that I pay them $30 in total.

I lied and told them that I had called the embassy that morning and that they had assured me it was just $20 and that they must be mistaken. I did all this in a light voice all the time smiling and they decided that just 1000Riel on top of the $20 would be enough for me to go through.

1000 Riel is only about .25c, but I had no riel and doubtless if I gave them another $20 bill they have said they had no change so I stuck to my guns and eventually the let me through without paying the bride.

Poipet, on the other side, is a mental little town full of people surviving on no incomeother than what they scam off unwary folk crossing the border.

As soon as I crossed I was accosted by about 30 aggressive "taxi"drivers offering me a ride to Siem Reap for unbelieveable prices like "$10 all the way sir, car to yoursef Sir"

I broke away from them and wandered a way bup the main street to see if I could find a bus station or a more genunine sounding thug but wasn't getting anywhere fast so I stopped at a shack by the side of the road where I sat in a hammock drinking a can of cola I bought of a toothless old guy while about ten of the Taxi guys stoof outside in a circle glancing in my direction.

One of them came and began bothering me again so I told him I was waiting for my friend "John" to clear visa control. They went away then.

A few minutes later I saw a pissed off English-looking bloke being harried up the road by the same bunch of "drivers". The drivers were saying something like "you John? you Jogn? He in here look, he your friend no?" Really broke me up:D

I finished my coke and started walking again. I caught up with the english guy and it turned out he was travelling with a Scotsman and he aforementioned American.

We got a RHD minivan taxi in the end, sharing with a few more tourists and that took us to Siem Reap ina few hours of seriously hairy hairying, mainly on the wrong side of the road weaving between oncoming trucks, mopeds, cattle horses, pedestrians, cars and buses.

Got to there at 6pm and the Yank and I took a twin room in a Khmer guesthouse for $5 a night, well furnished, friendly, AC & fan.

I spent most of the past three days exploring the temple complexes in the forest all arpund the city, and took some fantastic shots.

It's an amazing place where you can just wander the streets and talk to practically every person you come across (except the white folk obviously, because they are all far too stck up for that!)

The women are ravishingly beautiful but according to my driver there are only three types of women in Cambodia - Virgins, Hookers and Married - so my chances of getting the daughter of the guesthouse owner in bed with me are less than I might have thought. . .

I travel everywhere by moto, it costs about $6 to hire one and a driver for a day or as little as 1000R for a trip.

Good thing too as the temperature is hovering around 35-40c and extreme humidity. I drank eight litres of water yesterday and I daresay I still lost weight due to perspiration

Today my driver took me to a lake called Tonle Sap, to see his village. It's extremely poor, with most people living in th flood plain of this enormous lake which only fills up when the rains come and the rains are late this year so most of the villages were high and dry with all the houses 20 feet up on stilts.

There was water, but not so much or it, seperating where I was from a little island of sorts where I wanted to take a picture from and there looked to be a ford on the way over there where two men were struggling to pull a boad through, so I waled beside them and went straight down into deep water, camera in hand

I didn't drown, as you can tell, and I brought a smile to many faces when I emerged from the depths of the murky brown water like some kind of swamp-thing.

My camera could be fucked however. It's drying on the window sill right now. That water was not clean and pople don't really swim in it or drink it so maybe I shall die, buy don't bet on it:D

Tomorrow I head south . . .

Pics to follow assuming my SD card is not fubared by the water.

Please 'scuse all typo's - crazy Khmer keyboard