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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!
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!
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.
![:\](https://bluelight.org/xf/BL_Images/Orig_Emoji/wrygrin.gif "wry grin :\")
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
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.
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
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.
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!
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.
My space is the only way I can blog at work cause I have to use my cell if I blog at all. Am a bit down. I don't like going on my space cause my former sponsor is one of my friends on there and I know she sees me. I feel a bit of peace from the chems, specifically the painkillers. This is gonna be a real problem because the insurance uped my copayment from $10 to $40 for those damn pills. Meth isn't exactly cheap either, same price $40 bags when I get them. Obviously am gonna need to cut way back on the meth if I'm to survive financially, but for now at least I don't feel like crap.
You know, after all is said and done, horny or not, AFF profile or not, Brendan included, when it gets right down to it, the fact is that I cannot go through with meeting any of these men. They've been very nice to me in their emails on AFF, but Cali men move too fast for my taste. If I were to agree to meet up and go out with one of these guys, just the knowledge that sex is on their agenda ASAP, fucks with my mind making it impossible for me to be able to even think about responding. Ironically, if I'm in a situation say where sex is not an expectation, at least not to my knowledge, I CAN become attracted to someone if we connect mentally.
As for Brendan, sure I still care about him and I guess I'll always be grateful to him for helping me finally get over the self body hatred, and start appreciating my looks even if my body is not my idea of perfection. At this weight, I'm completely ok. Still, perhaps it's due in part to my worried/depressive states I've had lately, but much as I like and enjoy Brendan, I've cooled my jets with him by about 95% to be sure. He still sends the sweet IMs and emails, hot and heavy, but for practical purposes, there's no point in wasting energy getting all steamed up over someone I can't have, even once in a while due to the distance for one. Also, hell, to be honest, feeling conflicted and upset over my drug use and/or lack of, the sadness, the questions about what the hell am I all about anyway anymore, in my mind renders sex inappropriate.
Do I wanna be clean? Do I wanna stay loaded or go on a schedule? Lately I don't even know anymore, other than I don't want either. Confusion and sadness sets in at the lack of sense this makes. I only wish I could discipline my mind to where I can have sobriety but not have to lose my creativity, control my appetite, and no longer be able to achieve sexual arousal/orgasm. That's what sucks about being sober for me, I lose all the above, yet if I use then there are other equally tough problems. Perhaps I'll never learn. Sigh.
You know, after all is said and done, horny or not, AFF profile or not, Brendan included, when it gets right down to it, the fact is that I cannot go through with meeting any of these men. They've been very nice to me in their emails on AFF, but Cali men move too fast for my taste. If I were to agree to meet up and go out with one of these guys, just the knowledge that sex is on their agenda ASAP, fucks with my mind making it impossible for me to be able to even think about responding. Ironically, if I'm in a situation say where sex is not an expectation, at least not to my knowledge, I CAN become attracted to someone if we connect mentally.
As for Brendan, sure I still care about him and I guess I'll always be grateful to him for helping me finally get over the self body hatred, and start appreciating my looks even if my body is not my idea of perfection. At this weight, I'm completely ok. Still, perhaps it's due in part to my worried/depressive states I've had lately, but much as I like and enjoy Brendan, I've cooled my jets with him by about 95% to be sure. He still sends the sweet IMs and emails, hot and heavy, but for practical purposes, there's no point in wasting energy getting all steamed up over someone I can't have, even once in a while due to the distance for one. Also, hell, to be honest, feeling conflicted and upset over my drug use and/or lack of, the sadness, the questions about what the hell am I all about anyway anymore, in my mind renders sex inappropriate.
Do I wanna be clean? Do I wanna stay loaded or go on a schedule? Lately I don't even know anymore, other than I don't want either. Confusion and sadness sets in at the lack of sense this makes. I only wish I could discipline my mind to where I can have sobriety but not have to lose my creativity, control my appetite, and no longer be able to achieve sexual arousal/orgasm. That's what sucks about being sober for me, I lose all the above, yet if I use then there are other equally tough problems. Perhaps I'll never learn. Sigh.
Varanasi, varanasi. Oh where do I start describing thee?
Let's pick our point of arrival: the train station. One is greeted by waves after waves of touts and scammers that follow one all the way to the main street, which harbours indescribable... traffic. No, India has reinvented the notion of traffic. Let's call it post-traffic.
Having survived that, it is then an arduous journey to the old city and the Ghats.
Not really the best first-impression.
But soon one forgets the traffic (assuming one sticks to the old city and doesn't step out to the main street), and the magic of the city springs to life in front of one's own eyes. It is difficult to believe that this place is real. It really belongs more in a myth - which incidentally it does. And yet, not only does it exist, but you can visit it!
Beneres, as the city was called (and still is by the locals), is built entirely on the west-bank of the holy Ganges river. The city's riverbank is almost completely covered with Ghats, steps (and attached buildings) that lead down to the river. The city is entirely built to accommodate the religious life which revolves around the ghats.
People go on pilgrimages to this city to pay respect to the Great Mother (the Ganges). They pray to, bathe in, shit in, wash in, and get their corpses burnt and thrown in this river.
Taking a boat at dawn, one can watch life as humanity pours down the ghats onto the river to do all sorts of things. A lot of them take ritual baths. There is always someone burning a corpse at the Burning Ghats. Some holy (and not-so holy) men go out to do morning puja (devotion).
The ghats themselves are always lively, with people walking around all day under the watchful eyes of the many gods depicted throughout. They make for convenient walkways as an alternative to what's behind the ghats.
If one were to climb the ghats, one eventually ends up in one of the innumerable alleyways that make up the labyrinth that is the Old City. The narrow, cobblestone paths can hardly fit two people walking side-by-side, and so one is tucked away safely from the post-traffic happening outside. But, like elsewhere in India, there is never a shortage of humans doing all sorts of things. One may try to openly sell you hash. Another will try to convince you to buy silk, and yet another will try to take you on his rickshaw. And then there is the very rare student who simply wants to talk to foreigners.
But it doesn't stop at humans. Rats, mice, cats, dogs, monkeys, and cows (especially the latter) take whatever space not taken by humans. No matter what you do, you simply cannot go to varanasi and not step into a pile of cow poo, I was told. And in a puddle of cow poo I stepped, trying (in utter futility) to find my way back to the guesthouse...
That said, sans monkey as cows (and open sewage), this city has a LOT in common with Aleppo or Bethlehem or Jerusalem - just what I love.
Some of the people in these narrow back-alleys offer to read your palm. It was there where I let myself get scammed big-time. I seem to have been mesmerized to pay an embarrassingly large sum of money (which shall remain a secret) to a certain Guru Ji to read my palm.
His opening lines were as follows: "Dear Sir, your heart line says that you are VERY passionate, but definitely NOT homosexual. Am I right, or am I wrong?"
He proceeded to tell me that I am trying to do something real bad, and that travelling will not help me do it. He suggested I stay a week in Varanasi to do it, then tried to convince me to do that at his Ashram (and of course pay inordinate sums).
Needless to say, I never went back to Guru Ji.
One thing of value that I DID take from Guru Ji was a mantra he claimed would help me - "Om Namah Shivae".
It was in the streets and alleyways of the old city that Lord Shiva winked at me, starting a process of baptism-by-fire, as a friend called it later. Somewhere in the northern end, there is a Drug Store with a Swastika in front of it. I stopped by to feed my Tramadol addiction. For some reason, I decided to ask if they had any Ketamine.
To my utter shock, the answer was Yes...
(To be continued)
Let's pick our point of arrival: the train station. One is greeted by waves after waves of touts and scammers that follow one all the way to the main street, which harbours indescribable... traffic. No, India has reinvented the notion of traffic. Let's call it post-traffic.
Having survived that, it is then an arduous journey to the old city and the Ghats.
Not really the best first-impression.
But soon one forgets the traffic (assuming one sticks to the old city and doesn't step out to the main street), and the magic of the city springs to life in front of one's own eyes. It is difficult to believe that this place is real. It really belongs more in a myth - which incidentally it does. And yet, not only does it exist, but you can visit it!
Beneres, as the city was called (and still is by the locals), is built entirely on the west-bank of the holy Ganges river. The city's riverbank is almost completely covered with Ghats, steps (and attached buildings) that lead down to the river. The city is entirely built to accommodate the religious life which revolves around the ghats.
People go on pilgrimages to this city to pay respect to the Great Mother (the Ganges). They pray to, bathe in, shit in, wash in, and get their corpses burnt and thrown in this river.
Taking a boat at dawn, one can watch life as humanity pours down the ghats onto the river to do all sorts of things. A lot of them take ritual baths. There is always someone burning a corpse at the Burning Ghats. Some holy (and not-so holy) men go out to do morning puja (devotion).
The ghats themselves are always lively, with people walking around all day under the watchful eyes of the many gods depicted throughout. They make for convenient walkways as an alternative to what's behind the ghats.
If one were to climb the ghats, one eventually ends up in one of the innumerable alleyways that make up the labyrinth that is the Old City. The narrow, cobblestone paths can hardly fit two people walking side-by-side, and so one is tucked away safely from the post-traffic happening outside. But, like elsewhere in India, there is never a shortage of humans doing all sorts of things. One may try to openly sell you hash. Another will try to convince you to buy silk, and yet another will try to take you on his rickshaw. And then there is the very rare student who simply wants to talk to foreigners.
But it doesn't stop at humans. Rats, mice, cats, dogs, monkeys, and cows (especially the latter) take whatever space not taken by humans. No matter what you do, you simply cannot go to varanasi and not step into a pile of cow poo, I was told. And in a puddle of cow poo I stepped, trying (in utter futility) to find my way back to the guesthouse...
That said, sans monkey as cows (and open sewage), this city has a LOT in common with Aleppo or Bethlehem or Jerusalem - just what I love.
Some of the people in these narrow back-alleys offer to read your palm. It was there where I let myself get scammed big-time. I seem to have been mesmerized to pay an embarrassingly large sum of money (which shall remain a secret) to a certain Guru Ji to read my palm.
His opening lines were as follows: "Dear Sir, your heart line says that you are VERY passionate, but definitely NOT homosexual. Am I right, or am I wrong?"
He proceeded to tell me that I am trying to do something real bad, and that travelling will not help me do it. He suggested I stay a week in Varanasi to do it, then tried to convince me to do that at his Ashram (and of course pay inordinate sums).
Needless to say, I never went back to Guru Ji.
One thing of value that I DID take from Guru Ji was a mantra he claimed would help me - "Om Namah Shivae".
It was in the streets and alleyways of the old city that Lord Shiva winked at me, starting a process of baptism-by-fire, as a friend called it later. Somewhere in the northern end, there is a Drug Store with a Swastika in front of it. I stopped by to feed my Tramadol addiction. For some reason, I decided to ask if they had any Ketamine.
To my utter shock, the answer was Yes...
(To be continued)
June 15, 2009 3:13am from cell at work
The solo path
The solo path
Current mood: scared
Category: Romance and Relationships
Ive had short lived romantic relationships that felt more like ships in the night or sometimes lastn up to 4 months, 4 wks, or 4-10 days. Half the time its not the guy that leaves, but me coz i end up feeln suffocated and drained after a couple days unless i have my own personal space restored. Unlike n e 1 else i no, there is no way i can conceive of bein married and all of a sudden not havn my own privacy/space any longer. No fone, mail, pc, drawer space or anything else that my partner would also be privy 2? How the HELL does the rest of the normal world put up with that!? Its something i simply cant comprehend. It has nothn 2 do w me wantn 2 say cheat on my partner or hide any deception. Ive never cheated on an exclusive lover, wouldnt dream of it 2 this day. Yet no matter who i live with, id require my own bedroom even if we had sex every nite or spent the nite n each others room. It does tend 2 spice up/did spice up our sex life big time simply by doin it n different rooms. I got MORE sex that way, & way less havn only 1 shared space. Of course most people would think im nuts not bein able 2 do wot 2 the rest of normal usa prolly doesnt think about-u marry means u merge ur space. I cant even conceive sharn a checkn account coz how the fuck am i 2 keep tabs on wot some1 else does-each time he may add or take out $? R u nsane? As a kid i always had my own room coz i was raised an only child. At 24 i got my own apartment, later if i lived w others, i still always had my own room. 2 this day, still do, yet doubt most dudes 4 pot serious relationship could ever understand, as no doubt my need 4 space is every bit a 4reign concept 2 them as merging n2 1 big permanent WE is 2 me. I love an crave nthmacy, am ntensely more passionate emotionally than most, yet am defo a true loner by the worlds standards. As much as i love 2 share ntimacy and love or friendship, there isnt a time n my life i recall not needn a huge amount of solitude, otherwise i feel completely used.
June 15, 2009 4:08am at work from cell
Mommy knows best
Current mood: relaxed
Category: Romance and Relationships
So Mom wanted 2 hook me up with this guy she said would be compatable with me. No 1 knows more about me than Mom and she knows exactly the kind of ntimate relationship i require-a long term part time relationship. If i have sex, i only want 1 partner, not several +! This is y most of my life most of my partners were married men. It wasnt that i couldnt find my own man, but simply difficult 2 find a long term part time man unless he was a toyboy. No thanks, experience and a bit more maturity r wot i want. Of course seein a married guy has its own set of annoyin problems, so 4 the most part, i simply gave up lookn after 2001. Mom knows this dude that lives 10 houses away where we live. His name is Conrad, he's 35 (a bit younger than i like) single, tall, goodlookn, unemployed, no ambition like me, lives with his very well off parents who give him spendn $, let him live there rent free, is an alcoholic, but fun lovn, great personality, thinks im hot & wants 2 hook up with me, likes 2 party 2 excess, laugh, and get laid. Mom is rite about him bein the type i could relate to/njoy. The thing that worries me is the possibility he'd come knockn at some nopportune time, say rite n the middle of me sweatn my ass off, eyes black & dilated 2 the hilt from Mr. Prick. If only he didnt live 2 close 2 home..Moms rite, she no me 2 well coz the kind of person that drinks or does n e thing, especially some chemical 2 excess, and does not care that i make piss poor wages and am basically lazy, damn rite i can & do relate very well 2 that kind of person, a very attractive loser, but fun, creative, ntelligent, & gifted, yet completely lackn n ambition and/or career status. A bum n an upperclass hood, xcept his folks will continue 2 give him $, w/o workn or payn rent, and let him drink alot and get laid. His folks told me this themselves. 4 the kind of arrangement i want, i cod give a rats ass if hes workn or not. Lol. Ma b rite, hes my type. He just lives a little 2 close 2 home thou..
June 15, 2009 4:12am from cell at work
Fantasy vs reality
Current mood: nervous
Category: Romance and Relationships
I stand corrected. Erik is the 1 & only partner that proposed marriage, yet seemed completely on the same page when i xplained my need 4 privacy & space. In that sense, it could have worked, but finances were against us, so we had 2 go our separate ways. To this day i still miss him and will always love him, no matter what. I feel better 2day, but fear the future. Whether sober or chemmed up, i cant 4 the life of me understand y makn a couple fone calls 2 probation & student loan dudes makes me freeze up at the thought of dealn w these annoyn fucks. Jesus what the hell is wrong w me? Thats the disappointn and scary flaw (1 of them) about me and ive never understood y. Am enjoyn the chems, but in the back of my mind is always the nagn ? Whats goin 2 happen 2 me? Oddly enuff a couple different times, my poetic ability returned, but both times didnt bother writn them down. There r so many ? I have about myself @ various times and have no idea what the answers r. Either that or maybe i dont want 2 no. I only wish i had the ability 2 remove my most annoyn damn flaws, the inability @ times 2 do what most normal people take 4 granted. And damn it is most irritating handicap. So what happens after i die, whenever that may be? I certainly DONT want 2 b forced 2 reincarnate coz i failed 2 overcome my own biggest obstacles, 2 many fears. Sometimes i overcome some, but usually avoid what i dont want 2 deal with or face. That, or run. My entire life ive almost always preferred 2 stay n the fantasies nside my head nstead of the reality of day 2 day existense. As far back as i recall i preferred the imaginative company n my head 2 that of most others. Usually.
The solo path
The solo path
Current mood: scared
Category: Romance and Relationships
Ive had short lived romantic relationships that felt more like ships in the night or sometimes lastn up to 4 months, 4 wks, or 4-10 days. Half the time its not the guy that leaves, but me coz i end up feeln suffocated and drained after a couple days unless i have my own personal space restored. Unlike n e 1 else i no, there is no way i can conceive of bein married and all of a sudden not havn my own privacy/space any longer. No fone, mail, pc, drawer space or anything else that my partner would also be privy 2? How the HELL does the rest of the normal world put up with that!? Its something i simply cant comprehend. It has nothn 2 do w me wantn 2 say cheat on my partner or hide any deception. Ive never cheated on an exclusive lover, wouldnt dream of it 2 this day. Yet no matter who i live with, id require my own bedroom even if we had sex every nite or spent the nite n each others room. It does tend 2 spice up/did spice up our sex life big time simply by doin it n different rooms. I got MORE sex that way, & way less havn only 1 shared space. Of course most people would think im nuts not bein able 2 do wot 2 the rest of normal usa prolly doesnt think about-u marry means u merge ur space. I cant even conceive sharn a checkn account coz how the fuck am i 2 keep tabs on wot some1 else does-each time he may add or take out $? R u nsane? As a kid i always had my own room coz i was raised an only child. At 24 i got my own apartment, later if i lived w others, i still always had my own room. 2 this day, still do, yet doubt most dudes 4 pot serious relationship could ever understand, as no doubt my need 4 space is every bit a 4reign concept 2 them as merging n2 1 big permanent WE is 2 me. I love an crave nthmacy, am ntensely more passionate emotionally than most, yet am defo a true loner by the worlds standards. As much as i love 2 share ntimacy and love or friendship, there isnt a time n my life i recall not needn a huge amount of solitude, otherwise i feel completely used.
June 15, 2009 4:08am at work from cell
Mommy knows best
Current mood: relaxed
Category: Romance and Relationships
So Mom wanted 2 hook me up with this guy she said would be compatable with me. No 1 knows more about me than Mom and she knows exactly the kind of ntimate relationship i require-a long term part time relationship. If i have sex, i only want 1 partner, not several +! This is y most of my life most of my partners were married men. It wasnt that i couldnt find my own man, but simply difficult 2 find a long term part time man unless he was a toyboy. No thanks, experience and a bit more maturity r wot i want. Of course seein a married guy has its own set of annoyin problems, so 4 the most part, i simply gave up lookn after 2001. Mom knows this dude that lives 10 houses away where we live. His name is Conrad, he's 35 (a bit younger than i like) single, tall, goodlookn, unemployed, no ambition like me, lives with his very well off parents who give him spendn $, let him live there rent free, is an alcoholic, but fun lovn, great personality, thinks im hot & wants 2 hook up with me, likes 2 party 2 excess, laugh, and get laid. Mom is rite about him bein the type i could relate to/njoy. The thing that worries me is the possibility he'd come knockn at some nopportune time, say rite n the middle of me sweatn my ass off, eyes black & dilated 2 the hilt from Mr. Prick. If only he didnt live 2 close 2 home..Moms rite, she no me 2 well coz the kind of person that drinks or does n e thing, especially some chemical 2 excess, and does not care that i make piss poor wages and am basically lazy, damn rite i can & do relate very well 2 that kind of person, a very attractive loser, but fun, creative, ntelligent, & gifted, yet completely lackn n ambition and/or career status. A bum n an upperclass hood, xcept his folks will continue 2 give him $, w/o workn or payn rent, and let him drink alot and get laid. His folks told me this themselves. 4 the kind of arrangement i want, i cod give a rats ass if hes workn or not. Lol. Ma b rite, hes my type. He just lives a little 2 close 2 home thou..
June 15, 2009 4:12am from cell at work
Fantasy vs reality
Current mood: nervous
Category: Romance and Relationships
I stand corrected. Erik is the 1 & only partner that proposed marriage, yet seemed completely on the same page when i xplained my need 4 privacy & space. In that sense, it could have worked, but finances were against us, so we had 2 go our separate ways. To this day i still miss him and will always love him, no matter what. I feel better 2day, but fear the future. Whether sober or chemmed up, i cant 4 the life of me understand y makn a couple fone calls 2 probation & student loan dudes makes me freeze up at the thought of dealn w these annoyn fucks. Jesus what the hell is wrong w me? Thats the disappointn and scary flaw (1 of them) about me and ive never understood y. Am enjoyn the chems, but in the back of my mind is always the nagn ? Whats goin 2 happen 2 me? Oddly enuff a couple different times, my poetic ability returned, but both times didnt bother writn them down. There r so many ? I have about myself @ various times and have no idea what the answers r. Either that or maybe i dont want 2 no. I only wish i had the ability 2 remove my most annoyn damn flaws, the inability @ times 2 do what most normal people take 4 granted. And damn it is most irritating handicap. So what happens after i die, whenever that may be? I certainly DONT want 2 b forced 2 reincarnate coz i failed 2 overcome my own biggest obstacles, 2 many fears. Sometimes i overcome some, but usually avoid what i dont want 2 deal with or face. That, or run. My entire life ive almost always preferred 2 stay n the fantasies nside my head nstead of the reality of day 2 day existense. As far back as i recall i preferred the imaginative company n my head 2 that of most others. Usually.
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?!
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?
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
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 ><
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
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
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)
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 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 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!