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Today is Monday, June15th, 2009 and it is now 3:23 PM here in NYC, USA.

In music, I have been listening to a recording of the "Silk Road Ensemble." It is a classical combo, founded by the amazing cellist YoYo Ma. They play music native to India, Bukhara, Iran, Xiughur and other parts of what is now China. I enjoy is alot.

For reading, I have been spending alot of time over the last 2 weeks taking in the wonderful ambiance and materiel at the NYC Reference Library, on 5th Avenue across the street from the Main Public Branch, at 39th St. It too is part of the City Public System but offers amazing things. I spend alot of my time there in the Judaica Wing. I would offer a hyper link but I am quite sure that most BLers would find it terribly boring.


I have been researching names from my mum's side of the family. she was a child during the Holocaust but suffered terribly in the Camps. She was born and raised in a very small Jewish village deep in the bush of Bessarabia, in land now claimed by the break away Republic of Transdniester. "TD" is a Russian speaking enclave in asea of Rumanian speakers, and like many places during the collapse of communism, it suffered horrendous atrocities, etc.

All my mum's close family were exterminated, but because she and some other village children had been sent to a Camp administered by the Nazi Allied Rumanian Govt., she managed to survive while her parents and siblings (older) were sent to German administered Camps. She had an aunt and uncle here in the US, and they ended up allowing her to live with them, and so she called them her "parents" for the rest of their lives. It was this aunt and uncle who flat I retained in the South Bronx until this year.

Anyway, I have been trying to find relatives' names. My mum died years ago and yet I have always been curious about this part of my background that I was denied.

So...Almost a month that I have been here in the US, and it is time to consider my next move. I had to take care of acouple of things as I most definitely touched upon in my last entry, but they have been completed and allthat remains ia decison on where to go next, if anywhere.

Rizza and I have been very slowly trying to talk through these difficulties, but when we take a step forward, as the saying goes, it turns into "2 steps back."

I truly am at a loss as far as what steps to take next. I have never been more alienated from her than I have been for the last 3months, and believe me you, she has pi*sed me off plenty in the past. She is doing great in school, in Cebu taking summer classes and within 8 months she should be done with he 2nd BS (Nursing this time as I have mentioned), but her views on where to go from there are totally at odds at what I had envisioned and what we had planned.




Rizza has always hated the Philippines, and ESPECIALLY Mindanao. On one hand I do understand her feelings. When she was in High School she was treated pretty roughly by her classmates, all the more so with the jealousy over me. I do not know if Rizza provoked some of this stuff by "bragging" that she had a foreign man, but in any regard it created problems.

In other entries and especially in the old BL Journals (which reminds me that I should download mine now that they are available to do so, and place it in this Blog is that is even possible. Note to self, ask Admin.), I have written about the obession Filipina women have with Foreign men, especially white ones. I am a Jew but those who have seen my photos in Gallery know that I appear VERY white with very blue eyes.

In rural areas, and backwater islands like Mindanao, it is almost frenzy level in emotion over such men. One time a couple of months ago I was riding shotgun in 1 of the 10 wheelers as we drove a convoy north to the Agusan del Norte Provincial line (we live in Agusan del Sur), to meet a convoy from a rice seller who did not want to cross south because of the danger we have in our neck of the woods.

We turned off onto a dirt road (which is basically everything outside of National Hiway and acouple of large cities (Davao, Butuan, Gen San and so on). We were driving 40 kmph and in some
road side sari-sari (small grocery) a woman was walking out...happened to look up and saw me in the window of the truck and went bananas, running after the truck, trying to flag down one of our trucks behind mine (small convoy, only six 10 wheelers), smiling,shouting.

Other times I go into the village proper to get this or that. I drive 1 of the SUVs while Rizza goes in...and almost weekly some girls try to come up to the SUV to talk. Now we live in a very small village, everyone knows who I am, and knows I am married with the woman who had just left the vehichle and yet they want to mack on me, giggling, telling me I have handsome nose.

That is another wild thing...Filipinos are gaga for Western style noses! Uncle Alan, the man leading the other faction of my wife's family with whom we are in violent feud, actually paid some travelling quack to inject silicone into his nasal bridge, the area where the nose meets the face.Yikes.

Well, to get back to the original point, Rizza was treated horribly by her fellow students. They would rag on her for everything. Rizza has avery large chest, even for aWestern woman. SE Asians are very petite. Rizza is just under 4 foot 10 inches! Most Filipinos I have met, along with SE Asians everywhere now that I think of it, much prefer petite bodies in chest and rears. The students would call her ugly for having what is to them a huge chest.

"Boobah" is like calling someone "Dolly Parton," and she used to hear that word all the time. I made ahuge blunder once. She was crying to me about the name and I laughed!I told her that when I took her to visit the US she would see how Westerners view it.

After abit of showing her online (in 1997 there was not a whole lot on the Net to show! Come to think of it, our province did not even ISPs, let alone daily electricity, though we did get phone lines in 1993), and in movies and TV how men view such things she was greatly comforted.

Ayway, she has these sad memouries of Mindanao. Then, when I began courting her I only came 3 or 4 times a year, and so she had all those interludes in between and really felt lonely and depressed. I even had to rush there one time because she was so depressed, and I had to take it out on some boy and his family...but at least it stopped most of the nonsense against her.

As I have said many times, my in-laws and I had made a deal, that AFTER I retired from the IDF Rizza and I would move next to them in the family compound, on Mindanao. Rizza is chafing at the isolation, and so forth. She dreaded being back on the island, let alone in the compound.

I have a family much the same as hers, all on top of each other here in Brooklyn. I will link to an article in the next entry to give an idea of how I live in Broolyn.

Of course, when I left for the trip to the US BEFORE this present one, she went to Cebu and re-enrolled at university. I was happy that she would have something to occupy her mind and time but now she is dead set against living on Mindanao.

I will continue because of the character count...

(Edited for spelling,as always)

I got my mmcat today. I am so damn excited it's unbelievable. I open my pobox and all I see is a small square envelope and i'm like awww shyytt they got me. I've read that the DEA confiscates shit and then sends letters saying that they are getting a warning. So I was all upset so I tear openthe package and it's two pieces of paper and I open them and a small little bag in nicely nestled between them.

I've got a particularly bad case of the cringes today. It was supposed to be a quiet, healthy and productive weekend, but that all changed when my workmates decided to go out for drinks after work (mand I already had a hangover from the previous night, and had worked 12-hour shifts three days in a row). So we drank... and then we bought three grams of coke to share between five people.

I hate coke. It's the verbal diarrhoea that gets me. On a day like this I can lie in bed, too exhausted to move, in a constant state of anxiety, remembering every little thing I said that may have been even a tiny bit weird or embarrassing. I didn't really do anything inappropriate - well, I slept with one of my colleagues again, which was a bit weird but I think we're good enough mates for it not to really matter. But coke does do some amazing things to my ability to talk absolute shit. Lately coke has also brought all my insecurities out, but increased my comfort with those insecurities. So there's me blabbing all about my intimate secrets and putting myself on display for all the world to see. I always feel like I've shown way too much of myself. I kept getting insecure that my mates thought I was irritating, and therefore constantly apologised, which I am sure made me ten times more irritating. I also hate how attention and affection seeking I become.

I hate being this neurotic.

It doesn't help that I've slept badly for the past few days, and I haven't eaten today because I can't face leaving my room. I should take better care of myself.

I'm not being all self-pitying, 'boohoo look at me, my head hurts', because I know I did this to myself. I can take physical hangovers fine, I just can't take the extreme self-loathing that accompanies a cringe hangover.

I spoke to my friend about this yesterday and she told me not to worry as much because people don't really judge you for the way you act when you're on coke. I hope this is true.

I went out yesterday too, first to a house party, then on to a club in Brixton where I met some friends (Hedonistic Angel, duck racer, Grobert + his girlfriend Lisa). By the time I came to the club, they had stopped letting people in, but I spun the bouncers some story about how I was working in a bar up the road and had finished late (playing on the solidarity and sympathy between people who work in bars and clubs) and had come for my best friend's birthday party and was desperate to get inside. Not only did they let me in, but I got in for free too. Bless them. I'm still well pleased with myself :D

After the others had gone home I spent about one hour wandering around looking for the right bus stop. I wasn't that drunk, but the tiredness made me feel really dazed and weird. I got several people asking me if I was ok. I managed to walk right into a pole on the street as well, bumped my forehead, which was highly embarrassing but also quite funny. I must have looked like a right idiot.

It was a good night though, and not that cringe-inducing. Friday however... I am so embarrassed!!!!!!!!!11

I had a great weekend, went to see Arman Van Buuren with friends on Sat night and now I feel like I'm 87 my body is so sore from jumping around. Not my kind of music but we all had a great time!

I generally have the need to post something "meaningful" on a Sunday evening, but I don't really have much to say this Monday morning other than I hope everyone's week is moderate to ok and at least bearable!

I just ate a larger than average dose of DXM. I usually use about 900mg for a 3rd plateau trip. This should be strong.

I did use DXM yesterday, so that could make it less effective. I'll just have to see how it goes.

Edit -- It's probably not a good idea to talk about this in a public forum.

I hate cops. I will continue to hate cops until they start leaving drug users, traders, and peaceful dealers alone.

Edit -- Same as above. Thieves deserve to be punished. Drug users and peaceful dealers should be left the fuck alone.

I hope all drugs are legalized in my lifetime, but I doubt it will happen.

If I am not mistaken, you can use any drug you want in Spain without going to jail. I may move there someday if possible. I think dealing is still illegal, but at least I won't have to worry about going to jail for buying. I don't do much trading or selling, so the chance of getting busted for that is smaller.

I'll post an update on how my trip goes. Also on how the trade goes.

I am starting to get high. I was feeling nothing when I started typing, but now I am feeling it pretty good. Still nowhere near the peak. I wouldn't be able to type so well if I was at that level.

It's Time to Wake Up

Taking psychedelics in a proper introspective manner... alone, eyes closed in meditation or in a guided atmosphere can lead you to truly enlightening states of being.

Psychedelic and dissociative hallucinations turn the internal world into the external world as you step back and observe from the space and lock yourself into the ripples and the flow of the space. Once you're truly there, you have full awareness of your subconscious mechanisms, you can metaprogram yourself, and become aware of all the bullshit backwards notions that have been imposed in you and all the past experiences that have hampered you. And when you come back you throw yourself back into the external world to play with your mind as it interacts with other people's minds and the world around you. But this time, you're conscious, you're awake. Assuming you know what you're doing in there. People can get lost and never return.

Ideally, one would realize this feeling through a lifetime of regular meditation, but the general populace doesn't have this kind of patience. Until you truly step back into your true self and analyze your mind from that space, you have no true free will. You are a slave to your subconscious mechanisms. Things imposed in you by society, your community, your parents, your friends, your experiences, and dysfunctions in your brain chemistry. Once you do this you will realize that nothing is real, not in any way important, nothing except for love and eternal spirit. Money is made up. Property is made up. Borders are made up. Cultures are made up. Not to disrespect the concept of any of the above, we developed them for a reason, but they are a product of our damaged collective psyche. What the hell do you think the hippies were talking about? Many of them felt something the average man don't. The man was afraid, so they made their tools of exploring consciousness illegal. Despite nature clearly putting them here for a reason, it jived with our current mindset...

People go through the motions of day to day life, stuck. 6 billion unconscious fools, going through the motions until they die, unaware of the complex bullshit polluting their mindset.

Once upon a time a bunch of people decided man was not a part of nature, that we were far removed and above it. Two thousand years of us fools viewing everything outside of "civilized" society as a vast wasteland full of diseases, spooky things, gross things, and soulless meat machines. But it doesn't matter because this place is just the ruins of a lost Eden and we only have to be here for a few decades before we can spend eternity in paradise. We're only destroying a planet destined for rapture.

Then we got enlightenment, we got freedom, we got science, but we're still stuck in ways people are never willing to admit, and the state of our "freedom" is definitely a symptom of us being stuck.

In disposing of Christian what we're stuck in is the mindset that man is disconnected, soulless. For some reason it's in our heads that science is the enemy of spirituality. And that reason is... The Christian spite.

We are not merely made up of dead subatomic matter reacting to create the illusion of consciousness. Nature is not merely made up of dead subatomic matter reacting to create the illusion of life. Something flows through all of us. A universal connection, a collective unconscious, a collective energy… And it's pure. It is emotional, it doesn't adhere to our conception of logic, however it is cold for reasons yet to comprehend, random and it follows the rules of the universe, and it connects all of us together as one. Humans, animals, plants, air, dirt, distant stars, everything. It is infinity, it was never created and it will never be destroyed. It was with us with the big bang and forever after. It flows through us, it is us and we are it. You are not your brain, your brain is polluted with experiences and education and has been warped around your spark of consciousness to form your personality. You merely utilize your brain, it is not you.

Nature is alive. Everything is alive as one. The eternal soul flows through everything in this universe and binds us all together.

There are two primal emotions in life, love and fear. There is nothing is this life worth fearing. Be yourself no matter the consequence. Come the worst... friends lost, friends gained. Trust in synchronicity, the natural flow of the universe and everything will be fine.

Nevermind life, there is nothing in this existence worth fearing. I have a feeling that even in death, everything is fine... Everything I've found in near death experience and astral travelling tell me so.

Choose love. Wake up. There is nothing in this existence worth fearing. Love your fellow man and fear nothing.

I posted in my journal months ago about my mother being diagnosed with an aggressive form of breast cancer that was in an advanced stage. She was given a 30% chance to live.

It looks like her cancer is gone. They did a bone scan a few days ago. She had developed a lot of pain in her knee and back and was afraid that it might be the cancer. The bones and breast are the most common places for breast cancer to recur. The scans showed that it was just arthritis. There were no signs of cancer.

She has now had all of the tests done to check for cancer, and they have all been good.

It looks like she may have beaten the odds. It could still come back, but she is okay for now.

For anyone who didn't read the original journal entry:

My mother was diagnosed a little over a year ago. The cancer was detected in a mammagram I think 2 or 3 years earlier, but the doctors failed to notify her. The lab report for that first test said there was a small mass that was likely cancerous. There was no follow up. My mother was never told. She went through breast removal, chemotherapy, and radiation treatment as a result. She would not have lost the breast and may not have needed as much chemo and radiation if they had treated it when it was first detected. I've told my mom she should sue them for that terrible mistake that resulted in misery and disfigurement for her, not to mention nearly costing her her life. It may still cost her her life. There is a pretty high chance of recurrence in the next year or two. The chance will diminish as more time without cancer passes.

I may sue myself if she doesn't. I would give her any money I won in such a lawsuit. It's not really about the money. It is more about making the people who fucked up pay for their mistake. I just hope they haven't done the same thing to other women. I hope this was because of one unfortunate accident and not because of ongoing problems. I think the doctors involved should be forced to go look through all of the scans done in the last 5 or 6 years just in case someone else is in the same situation my mom was in, having cancer detected and not being notified, then finding out several years later when it is almost too late or worse, when it is too late.

I just don't know how they screwed things up. They detected the cancer and never told her. I know people make mistakes, but a mistake like that is terrible. It could cost someone their life. Doctors and medical professionals must be held to a higher standard than most because a mistake could harm or kill.

I'm really not so angry at the people who fucked up and I don't hate them. I hated them when I first found out about it and thought my mom was going to be dead soon. I wanted to kill them. I wanted to look in there eyes and feel the warm blood gushing out on my hands as they died and tell them why I was doing it. That didn't last long. It was just my initial reaction. I continued feeling some hate and disgust toward them for a few weeks and would get really angry when I think about it. That too passed. I still think everyone involved in the incident should have their work performance evaluated to see if any other mistakes were made and the individual who fucked up should be sued.

The most important thing is that my mom is okay, at least for now. I don't know if I could have gone on living if she had died. I have no friends and no other relatives that I feel close to except for my two youngest nephews. I doubt I'd have much contact with my nephews if my mom died. I'd be pretty much alone in the world. I hope I'll be able to make a friend some day. I don't want to end up completely alone. I also hope my mom lives a long life, but that isn't likely. She has multiple health issues in addition to the cancer.

The DXM is kicking in harder. I have to stop typing. I'm entering 3rd plateau level.

Left to go to the city at about 10:00am and didnt get back until after 4:00pm. I hate living a hour from the city there is nothing more frustrating then a hours commute just to see my doctor or psychiatrist.

If only i had enough cash to live there because i hate living up here. I can feel my mood drop when the sight of the city skyline falls out of my view. Out of civilisation and back into the wilderness though living up here certainly has it's perks. I like the nature up here, the silence as well as the various cute animals that come into our yard . If only i had some actual friends up here i might be happier. Though my heart still lives in the city because there is such a thing as too much quiet and there is nothing to do up here. Plus i love being able to get pizza, smokes and drugs at 4 in the morning.

I went to see my psychiatrist and GP and made out good with both. My psychiatrist gave me 3 weeks worth of zyprexa zydis thats if i take em everyday which i don't cause i usually only take them as needed. That is good since even the generic olanzapine costs a fucking fortune . I also had my lamotrigine dose increased to 175mg's a day so hopefully that will help things as well. That and i got refills on all my meds.

My GP gave me another 30 percocet which is great since i can't get anymore MScontin until wendsday atleast and my fucking left arm is killing me. I fucked it up lifting weights the other day since ive been trying to get back into shape as of late. I havent done any arm curls in a year so im not used to them i guess.

I am trying to keep my weight down and get back into shape so ive mostly been doing knuckle pushups and the like which build up my strength quite abit. But i want to get back into weight training as well since i want to pack on more muscle and burn the fat off.

I also need to start doing cardio even though my lungs arent the best from all the cigarettes i smoke. i tipped the scales today at 190lbs (86.18 kilos) which is the heaviest ive been in about 3 years. Strangely enough i don't look overweight at all even though im only 5 foot 8 (172.72 centimeteres). When i got to this weight before id look kinda puffy which sucked ass bad but now i don't. Im pretty broad so i carry my weight well.

I have to call a few people tonight and im off to bed because i am pretty fucking tired. I feel dragged out and tired but im not going to sleep until atleast 11:00pm. If i go to bed before then i might wake up early and when i wake up really early as in 3 in the morning i often get a visit from the black dog. That black dog can stay out in the cold tonight instead of being inside and sucking the life out of me like a vampire.

Peace to everyone.

Currant medication regimen:

Psychiatric meds:
Lamotrigine 175mg's per day
Clonazepam 4-6mg's per day
Zyprexa 10mg's a day as needed
wellbutrin 300mg's a day
zopiclone 7.5mg's a day

Pain medication:
MScontin 60mg's twice a day
Percocets As much as i need
Gabapentin 1800mg's per day
Lyrica (just got some samples) 300mg's a day or however much i feel like taking
Ibuprofen 600-800mg's every 4-6 hours as needed

This is the visitor that comes around far too often and stays far too long.

My black dog closes the curtains, locks the doors and makes damn sure it is my only company.

There is no way I would want anyone to put up with this tag a long. Not even Pepe, as he she can get away though.

Some days my unwelcome shadow drifts away, but it always returns. Tonight, it settled in for the long haul.

I feel awful. Physically sick, emotionally drained. I dont think Ill be leaving the couch unless I have to. Someone this morose should not bring others down, hopefully it will pass and life can go on in a positive direction.

Im definately going to be staying on seroquel, stopping drinking and laying low.

I hope I dont do anything stupid. I resisted my vice for so long. It just makes shit worse anyway. If I stay asleep for a few days, Ill be ok.

this evening we caught up with uncle kent and family from the uk. he is an amazing man/spirit who floats from one destination to the next on cruise ships giving lectures and teaching how to's on photography.

he reminds me ALOT of alasdair; young at heart, living life as it comes; and having a shitton of fun in the midst. an all round good guy with a larger than life personality. his presence is addictive. i love the guy and always leave him feeling richer. hes awesome and i cant speak highly enough about him. i love kent.

speaking of awesome and an ode to my blog title, theres jack. the grandfather behind the genius that is our family. jack went on a personal journey to learn the latin language to decipher the "secret healing code" behind the bible; never taking english language/the basic translation at face value. hes a highly intelligible man, whos always asked "why?" rather than being dictated to.

jack is amazing. words cannot describe his lifetime. during it he asked and challenged theories that were untapped/unchallenged. he invented the very first duel flush toilet; and when naively approaching caroma with his ideas (before the days of patenting in australia) and enthusiasm; they were taken out from under him; and stolen. we still have the notepad books and diaries in which he composed all of the scientific ideas/evidence to prove authenticity.

jack is something else. not due to the toilet thing; moreso for being the eccentric scientist/linguist he was. he was larger than life; and even though we now visit him weekly in a high scale dementia ward; he can still manage each week to communicate physically through being the wierd bastard he always was. i love it. i go into see him each weekend; armed with a box of chocolates (his favourites) to see him squirm in pleasure; and jump onto his knee and smother him in hugs and kisses. even with the disease thats consuming him; he remembers me and my daughter more than anyone and wants to play with us. its awesome

i have his notebooks from his able minded days stored in my closet in boxes. filled with inventions, artwork, poetry and scientific ideas.

his illness is a curse to both humanity and society at large; he was such an able minded man with higher intelligence wasted through ignorance and time. its devistating; but one of those things that just happen. noone knows what cards fate deal them; youve just gotta roll with it.

jacks trying his damnest and is still the coolest guy ever. what i love; thats obviously deeply engrained in him (that the illness cannot steal away) is his ability to be a joker. he will still laugh and play morbid cracks on people to get a rise. nothing changes.

i love my family; quirks; indifference and all. theyre special people. im beyond lucky to be apart of that. i love my jack. im seeing him tomorrow. ill be sure to bring chocolate, time, a chess board and smiles. :D

You work with a guy a long time... You think he's your friend. You cuddle at an after-work party (and he's all eager about you) , and when everyone's fucked, he convinces you to go home together (cocaine-induced, wouldn't do him it when sober). No cuddling ensues afterwards. I feel cheap without cuddling. Bastard.

I need to rethink my life, is a thought that I've been thinking a lot lately. I need some committed loving ;/

Sucks that you need to get bluelighter status to send PMs..

it's 10:39 a.m. and im writing in a blog while reading it in my head with a heavy old man english accent. my morning ritual is a bliss and i am content with all that is about me. across this finely made computer desk lies a window full of early day sun and shadowy figures that map the front yard with a cooling shade. making the contrast of bright and mid greens pleasing to sift through as i sit with my coffee and nicotine. the sourness of yesterdays hangover has since vanished. oh the evils of vodka and a good friend combined.

I have the login and password but I just don't get it. I really don't get people. I don't look like, think like or act like anyone I know or anyone around me. I am so angry with people using emotional weapons when they just don't understand.

I'm trying to force myself to engage with people but it really isn't working, I'm just too much of a loner and just too different. I am just so tired of doing this sandpaper dance when every single person I am in contact with has bitterly little in common with me.

I try and ignore it as much as possible but lately this really hasn't been my fucking planet, never has felt like it to be honest.

I don't want to be reclusive but I really really just need to feel comfortable *somewhere* and until that somewhere is my own skin I just cannot keep up with the repeat performance of the guy who sticks out like a sore thumb everywhere anymore.

At some point in sliding repeatedly down the cheese grater one has to notice that one's ass is raw and perhaps its not the best of ideas to keep doing it.

8)

I feel miserable.

Nothing has gotten better, it's all worse and continuing to get even worse. I told my psychiatrist that I've been having more suicide thoughts and the Celexa does nothing but makes it worse so he upped my dose.

Everyone is doing something with their life except for me. I've called in sick the last two days and I have a really hard time leaving the apartment or even doing anything in the apartment besides watch TV and sleep.

I'm scaring myself and don't know what to do anymore.

Plug Into Your Mind, Plug Into Your Spirit

I'm a little more than interested in the states achieved by meditation, lucid dreaming, and chemicals.

More specifically chemicals. It gets you in touch with your inner self. Your unconscious awakened. Every little incompetent overanalyzed, taken to pieces.

In meditation and guided specific unconscious dreaming, you take one step back into your unconscious self, your awareness of the self expands infinate. You obtain a certain balance, and accept all that is within you.

Let more of your unconscious into your social self, and you will be loved! Love hated to the death, but be honest and you will love yourself and find the people that love you.

It's rave culture. Let's get settled in rave culture. Peace, Love, Unity and Respect is where it's at. We are all together as one.

Let's get serious and get settled into the future.

The fucking things cause depression. No really, every time I get put on these fucking things I get all sad and emo and I battle to cope. I have been off mine since last Friday, by Monday I felt on top of the world. Now the mucus has started again and I've decided I'm just going to fucking DEAL with it some other way. I'm not going back on that shit. Fuck Adcock, Pfizer and whoever else makes crap like that. YES it works for your sinuses but the price is MY FUCKING LIFE.

I'll take my coming sinus infection with a smile thank you very fucking much!

Aargh!


PS. Please would anyone else using shit like Rhincort, Nasonex, Nasocort etc get off that stuff NOW and see what a difference it will make to your life.

I just want to say fuck one more time! FUCK!

I am just writin this down fresh when i just woke up becuz i dont want to forget.

I dreamed that i let a raccoon and a fox into the house. I said the fox was cute, like a little dog the size of a big cat. It had red fur. it was biting the raccoons neck and tryin to kill it.

Somebody killed the fox tho. i dont know how they got in my house or if our fox got outside but there was a group of british people and they killed it as part of them playing polo. I dont really know wat polo is but it here it was men standing in a lake. The took a giant stick thing and would hit a big 3 foot diameter floating inflatable thing shaped like a spinning top or a UFO and it had a weight attached to the bottom of it. They would take their stick and hit these giant things and they would float around the lake on top of the water, each one of them had brand names and sponsor names on it like sports brands n shit. they stood in their dressed up clothes in water up to their stomachs doin this. it moved fast.

somehow i found out they was the ones responsible that they had just killed the fox as the beginning of their polo game and thats the shit they did every time they had one.

I was there with my man and other people i dont know and i got real mad. I was gonna do somethin terrible to them, but then somethin happened.

Somehow there was a mask with the fox's eyes and nose and mouth part cut out, like if it got skinned. there had been somethin wrong with it, we was angry, cuz it was perfect still, after all the torturing it went thru before it died.

But then they changed it, somehow, it looked like it got fucked up, mauled, its little face reflected the suffering it had felt, and then somehow it became OK and we accepted this as the apology that they realized wat theey did was wrong.

and my man, somehow if he put the mask on it would take away the pain of the fox, so he took the mask and put it on his face, eyes in the eye holes nose in the nose hole, n somehow that did somethin magical and brought it back to life , or somehow made it ok again, i dont really know.

There was a big fight and a brawl where all the polo players and t heir wifes was all running and charging after me cuz i pushed a ball off one of their cars and it rolled in the water, I was beating down the women and they was all making weird aggressive sexual comments about how they are straight or gay, like "Ill beat your little straight ass" if they was gay, and if they was straight, they called me gay. shit like that. But I whupped em all, the whole gang of em.
i dont remember that part too good, but then all of a sudden we stepped inside a building, and it was like the war was off, me and my man was one of them now, now that he had put on the fox mask.

inside it was a christmas party on the top floor when it had just been june outside, but everyone was dressed up and drinkin champagne and shit. the carpet was red and green plaid. Me and my man was bein guided by one of the members of this, country club i guess.

But then down a wide set of stairs with a wood bannister there was cubicles. old fashioned kind, grimey ones that seemed very old. faded blue burlap cloth covered the squares that set up the little divided rooms. I was explaining to the guy why i didnt like their style, that i wasnt british and didnt understand their customs n traditions and hated hearing that song hes a jolly good fellow, and that killing the fox was cruel as hell. but i stopped and he went away suddenly when I seen this woman sitting at the cubicle.

she had a chair with a bamboo back and a big flat widescreen computer monitor with a picture of her in high resolution open in photoshop on the screen.

On her desk was boxes and boxes and boxes, rolodexes and file cards with phone numbers, like a old school office from the 80s. she had a desk phone and she was makin calls like crazy. My man somehow had huge money that she was tryin to invest for him but i dont know how we got there or knew her or why we would ever invest something, that aint the type of shit we ever would think about.

There was piles of files lettered alphabeticly around her and her desk and she made call after call, and i remember her sayin to my man, So n so wants you to do this one, but I aint lettin ya, its too good to be true ya know watimsayin?

Then I looked at her desk n her shabby blue cloth cubicle that was all stained, how she was surrounded by piles of files and names and numbers and was a stock trader, a banker, a high up woman, a girl with a serious job , that she had to devote her whole life to. and after all that, here she still was, sittin underground in a shitty set of cubicles.I said to her, How do you remember all these PEOPLE? And she didnt answer. I started cryin for her, thinkin how sad it was, how much pressure was on her life for her to succeed and perform and how she wasnt even gettin shhit for it.

Then i got bored of listenin to her make phone calls non stop so I seen the screen again, and it was moving. it was playin a movie now instead , the picture of her had came to life but i could tell it was her cuz she was sittin in the same bamboo chair.

It was her, eating chicken, the last chicken leg before the whole carcass was bare, and crying. There was another one and she kept eating it and the same thing when it was down to the bones she cried and cried like she couldnt bear the thought that she ate the whole chicken and now it was gone, like it was her friend, not like she was sad cuz she was on a diet and ate too much. It happened a few times and I realized it must be some kind of movie of that girl interuppted story, and she was the girl daisy.

After a while of watchin her , she suddenly looked younger, smiled with a crazy look in her eye and said, HI, IM DAISY, AND IM TEN YEARS OLD. HIJACKING! HIJACKING!

Then they went back to intrroducing the other patients.

the one girl, i dont know who, was testing the other ones, she put a piece of cut up strawberry on a spoon, and used her spoon to launch it across the table to the other girls, and each girl caught it n sent it to the next one, and that was like the intro to the movie...It looked like it was made in the 70s...Then i remember them sayin somethin about "shift nurse"

And then when I heard that I woke up, becuz the shift nurse was the worse when I was in detox. Shift nurse ruled your life, the meds you could get, all of it. I woke up fast when i heard shift nurse in my brain. And the sound of diesel powered snorting outside, Giant trucks that sounded like they are 30 feet tall, their engines like the sound a pig would make if it was a mile high and two miles long. I woke up right away and remembered the whole dream. I dont kno. they are building somethin somewhere a few blocks away but the sound of the trucks is so loud i cant sleep no more so I am awake at 8 30 in the morning to write my dream down. I have no idea wat it means. but i didnt want to forget it.

it sounds horrid; and this morning it was.

i spent my 15 minute tea break in my car on my cell to the taxation office, to find id been over taxed and underpaid for a 6 day week.

i burst into tears (weaksauce, i know) on my own; and had a silent cry in my car; to be interupted by a co-worker bashing on my drivers side door.

she climbed in alongside me and bought me back to life; reminding me why the hell i was busting my cunt (pardon my french) for peanuts before having a bitch fit at my superior and telling her to jam her job up her cobweb filled vagina. im earning half of what i did prior to my former position for double the hours; although am happy in my job, and love what i do. though love unfortunately doesnt pay the bills.

i got home and waited patiently for the mr, although after an hour, gave him a quick call to find out his day was 10x worse than mine; so transformed from megabeast to compassionate wife in 2.5 minutes.

i cooked us an awesome meal of steak, couscous (god bless you ainsley harricot) and ratatouille before he arrived home. we had a lovely meal together. we both bitched and giggled over our day and are now preparing to call it a night and have great sex.

im overworked, underpaid; but funnily enough dont give a shit right now. im at home with my man and sleeping daughter; were well fed, well sexed and life in general is good. peeshe guise.

so i was walking back from the store , getting cigarettes and cash. it was pretty sunny outside, and i was sort of lost in thought, singing in my head, etc.

some asshole yells "hey" pretty loud driving past me, i look up startled, and he's flipping me off lol. i don't know anyone in this town well enough to have real reasons to give me the finger randomly on the street.

pretty awesome lul

back from a stellar vacation:

Knoxville, TN - Market Square is fn cool, food, great people

Asheville, NC - Downtown and down in the holler, great people, lots of pbr

Savannah, GA - grrrreat dinner at Noble Fare, way too humid, drinks by the river

Bluffton/Hilton Head, SC - sunburn, great food, good shopping, fire and brimstone homily (bleh), beautiful scenery

Durham, NC - Duke University has an AMAZING garden, highly recommend it!!!

home.

have a cough. took some meds for it. waiting for assessment now.

I sincerely hate HP. I honestly think they hire monkeys instead of human beings there. Nothing good ever comes from buying a computer from HP...and especially nothing good ever comes from calling tech support. For example I called HP because my battery dies after 2 minutes of being unplugged and I just bought the computer 7 months ago. So I call HP and I get this really nice Indian fella who tells me that batteries are only covered for 6 months but he tells me that he will see what he can do about getting me a new battery. So he talks to his manager and guess he convinced him to send me a new battery and so I'm now talking to his manager and his manager says they are going to go ahead and send me a new battery. Well today the FedEx man comes down the driveway and he has this big old box and I mean it's a rather large box probably around 15x10x5...and the FedEx man goes "Wow an empty box" and I laugh and say "Yeah, that's HP for ya". Little did I know that he was not lying when he said an empty box. I just figured he was joking about the size since a battery is so little and this box was huge. I grab the box and I think to myself this is actually a bit light but I didn't think much of it. So I open the box and I peer excitedly inside and what do I see? Nothing... HP sent me a box. An empty box. Just a box with nothing inside it but a return shipping label and a strip of tape to tape the box back up. I stick my hand inside the box to see if perhaps there was some type of hidden portal containing my lost battery but there is absolutely nothing inside the box. I feel around each corner and shake the box. I then decide that I must have done something wrong in the process of opening the box so I place the shipping label and tape back inside and then turn it upside down. The shipping label and tape fall out but no battery. I stare into the empty box thinking that perhaps a battery will just magically appear if I stare at it long enough. I have called tech support and the guy gives me a case number and tells me an agent will call me and send me my battery. In the process of talking to him I look into the box and fiddle around the the shipping label and tape strip again thinking that there is a battery hiding around somewhere in there and I don't see it. So now I'm sitting on my deck and I am almost compelled to go into my room once more and look into the empty box because I am just dumbfounded to think that HP would actually send me an empty box. I mean they could have stuck a in broken battery, they could have stuck in a battery that exploded, they could have stuck in a used battery, hell they could have stuck in a rock...but no, they stuck in nothing. At least the previously listed items would have given me the peace of mind to not think that I am somehow missing this imfamous battery that is lurking somewhere in that enormous house-size box.

I am indeed greatly disappointed. HP should add the letters CS to the end of their name so it could stand for "Helping People Commit Suicide". Fuck you HP.

Seriously.

I owe my parents like $800 dollars. I really want the Iphone but I still need to convince my boyfriend to shift over to AT&T. So I have decided that once I finish paying my parents back I will buy the Iphone because realistically I cannot afford it at the moment...no matter how effin bad I actually want it . I just got back from my 3 hour nursing class. It was a ball. I have to study a lot and I have work 4-9 tonight. It's going to suck but perhaps I can study some. I'm going to have to tell my boss that I need to cut back on hours soon. But not before I buy my Iphone.

iphoneiphoneiphone
IPHONE

sound familiar, dave??