the beautiful thing about my job, is that i can multitask. which means i can work on a laptop that i use for the Internet 101 class, and work on my web pages at the same time.
There has been several times, that I have been asked to do something, and I have made some trite comment about how I can’t do that because I don’t have enough time. My managers have always scoffed and replied with something such as “yeah, right. you are the queen of multitasking.”
(windows is now restarting)
it’s been lovely, because when i was moved to the NOC (network operations center), they had run out of ethernet ports, and so sonya and I got our own hub. so i just found an rj45 cable and plugged her in baby. i want a laptop so bad. maybe if I’m good, santa clause will bring me one for Xmas.
don said that there must be something in the water. last night i got an email from jo stating that I owed slip.net (aka, the fucking place where I work) $96.25 to them for services. I got upset and shot off an email back to her stating that this issue was taken care of back in August, and that I was paid up to date with it. She wrote back and said no, that wasn’t true, and this is why: a detailed email included. I got up and walked the big 50 feet to her desk and said “I’m NOT paying blah blah blah.” and it resulted with her threatening to shut my account down (oh yeah right. let’s get real here for a second folks. The minute she put my account on hold, I would have automatically turned it back on). So Don talks to her, and it gets all straightened out, and everything is peachy once more. heh. like i knew it would be.
everyone has been really bitchy lately. hrm.
shirley came and grabbed me when we got back from lunch, and wanted me to put together a set of tables that twinkletoes ordered for the receptionist area. ripping apart the boxes, found two of the most god awful ugliest tables that i have ever seen. people came from all over the office to gawk, they were that bad. they were this art-deco laminated on top of plywood (which was painted black), and had odd shaped legs. The kicker was that the legs were screwed into the table with large wooden knobs, and on top of the knobs stood a glass partition. i can’t even find the words to describe how awful this is. i love gawdy, but this is just in plain bad taste.
the tables wouldn’t be so bad if it weren’t for the fact that twinkletoes went and purchased red leather chairs to match the stupid bouncing balls in our logo. our reception area looks like a bordello. heh.
shirley offered compensation for pulling me away, but i told her i was saving my powers for good and that i would collect later.
don is right. something is in the water. daniel and i just got into a little tiff. i need a stiff drink and bad.
don’t you want me baby
so the Internet 101 class went fairly well. We had about 10 people show up, and with different degrees of Internet savvy (from not knowing about a browser is to high end stuff) it was pretty chaotic.
justin came and monitored my class and told me what i should do in the future. i spent today planning the class and reworking it as well as cleaning out the old lap top (486/66 with 16MB of ram) to get it functioning properly. His critique helped in many ways, and it also begged the issue of whether or not we should offer two classes: one for beginners and one for intermediate people. this is something i’m going to speak with don about tomorrow.
but what was amusing, was that sonya and darryl hung out after work. they had planned on going to the gym, but never made it. so sonya comes in and starts monitoring the class, and i knew why:
hottie in the room!
he was flirting with me (i think that by me saying ‘this is my roommate’ (referring to justin) didn’t fool anyone) and asked her out.
damn was he hot!
darryl chided us both saying that we were so shallow for not asking his name, but, heh. erm. it wasn’t deep conversation that we were thinking about that required us to ask his name. heh. okay, that is shallow, but i was upset when we left because i -wanted- him to ask me out, and he didn’t. i wanted the pleasure of saying ‘no’. and that didn’t happen.
i can be so shallow sometimes.
Year: 1998
logitech mouseware
i feel about as creative as a cat on a hot tin roof.
well piss up a rope and call me betsy.
i’ve spent, YET AGAIN, another fruitless evening trying to get this page somewhat contained and running. but i get this bug up my ass on re-doing it, and i spend all fucking night looking at other people’s pages, and not even bother working or bothering about myself.
I’m no damn graphic designer, and yet I can code mean html (I’m one of those people who will use ONLY notepad for coding (sic)). yet I spend half my time, in worthlessness trying to get some decent graphics up.
god, i hate my life.
i’m bored.
i’m frustrated because, back in 1995, when I first started doing some sort of journalling on the web, i was one of the first set of 1000’s that did so. even then, some of the main pages are now gone, but i remember getting accolades about having such a fine mind, and this that and then some. and now, NOW you ask?
Well it seems that every tom, dick and george has their own page. and it’s annoying. and it’s like, one chicky was whining in her journal because her page hits went up to something like 72 hits already in one day. And I wonder if she knew about the fact that every time she reloaded her page (talk to the hand, because the face ain’t listening), she would ring off her counter. and people wonder why I love cookies.
Due to a request of one person, I’ve set up to have The Lisa Chronicles served fresh daily to your email box. Click on the subscribe button to your left. Or the handy one highlighted for you above.
I feel really mean tonight, so kindly go fuck off.
management reserves the right to change without notice
the last few weeks i’ve been having these thoughts about people i knew/grew up with/worked with. first it started with shelly and i trying to find the number to our friend Josh.
josh and i were best friends throughout high school, and as we got older, we slowly started to drift apart. it was sad, and a lot of our other mutual friends in our group were concerned about my reaction to losing him as we grew up, dated and basically started making lives for ourselves.
i used to say “well, i don’t miss him anymore.”, and truth be told, i do. but the funny thing is, i don’t miss anything about my past life in grand rapids, mi. and then i will stumble upon something and i start having heart palpitations all over again.
but when those feelings start coming up again, i actually start getting homesick. it makes me want to throw away everything i have here in san francisco, and move back to what is familiar.
sherry, josh, shane, rick, sunshine, sky, shelly, alan, danny, boobie, anthony, carl, greg, aaron, todd, eric, adam & sloth, jennifer & jeff, clyde, fernando, dani : the list is endless of people i knew or hung out with. but the funny thing is, the more i start to think about ‘home’, the less i can remember of it. i try to think about what it was like in the winter, and what it was like during the summer. the things we did, the fun we had. the clubs we went to, the parties we threw, the shows we went to see. it’s all this black void that i can’t seem to drum up anymore.
i was thinking how no matter where i was, i would always be ‘me’. this persona i’ve held dear to my heart. that i would never change, not one iota, because i wanted to keep the things that made me happy close to my heart.
i found, that reflecting back on people i know and how i was around them, that i did change. and changed a lot. my perception of the world, and what i know around me has changed my own outlook. the things i thought i would never catch myself doing (drinking wine is a big example), and the change in my own ideas (in a quasi-five some) startle me when i actually think about them. when i think about what it would have been like if I would have stayed, this is what i drum up:
- married to danny
- living in some nice house in the ‘good’ part of town
- pregnant / have kids
- being a homemaker
some would say “now that doesn’t sound like such a bad thing”, and to be honest, some people would be happy having that. Personally though, i’ve never saw myself as being that centered in one place. it’s too foreign and too normal. i can’t see myself running after rugrats and cleaning up after my husband all day long. it just isn’t me.
charmed, i’m sure
since justin wasn’t feeling well (and when isn’t he), we decided to forego having dinner with Edward and Karl, and stay at home. This is our same old same old game plan, and watched ‘dawsons creek’, ‘charmed’, and ‘south park’. man, was south park funny tonight or what? it sure as hell doesn’t beat last weeks with cartman being a five dollar hooka from vietnam. but it was still pretty. but, that doesn’t matter, because:
I’M GOING TO GO SEE R.E.M.!!!
oh god, you have no idea. i’ve loved r.e.m. for something like 10 years! going back to document. when i heard they were playing for the bridge school benefit (along with phish, sarah m., bare naked ladies), i was I HAVE TO GO NOW! but the word on the streets was that the tickets were hard to get, and sold out. nerp. i checked bass tickets and they had released tickets in both general and reserved seating.
god!
you have no idea what this feels like. tomorrow i’m going to drag my rem cd’s with me and torture everyone i know to listen to them. i’m just too too happy about going to go see them. finally!
fun with quick cams
as stated previously, my friend will sent me a quick cam some time ago. after one attempt at getting it running, it wasn’t till my friend kruton has started begging me for pics of myself. i said “okay” as long as justin was in the pics as well. kruton agreed.
due to some fuck up, my keyboard doesn’t work with the quick cam hardware. so we just took random shots of us, and this is what is filling the entry for today.
smart, sexy, fabulous
every time i’m in a store that sells magazines, i always look at justin and say “one day i will look like that” as i point to the latest issue of vogue, glamour, mademoiselle (which are all ironically owned by the same company).
i always see this breathtaking beauty with boobs out to here and legs so long even that drives me insane with my 34 inch inseam. i look at what i’m holding in my hand, whether it would be a can of diet coke or a bag of something fat free, and suddenly start chastising myself for not being the chick on the rag.
okay, i know that something like 8% of the population is that model-icious, however, whenever someone hears that i’m 6′ tall, the impression i always feel is that they expect me to be -that- small. and i’m not. and there is no way on this earth that i could weigh that little and not be in the hospital.
it angers me, on many levels that i feel this way. it angers me that i, after 26 years, can’t feel comfortable in my own skin. it angers me that i can’t accept myself as i am, and it also angers me that i can’t be the chick on the mag.
living in a world, at least in my mind, that feels so image driven, my personalities are always at war with each other. i could go out with friends and have guilt trips about eating pasta. on the other hand, i attempt to try and find solace in something and eat my fat free ice cream drowned in hershey’s syrup (which is ironically, a fat free food). diets, pills, self-hypnosis, i feel like i’ve tried them all.
to me, i feel like a freak. justin says i’m beautiful (and i quip he’s only saying that because he is sleeping with me), and every man i’ve met thinks i’m beautiful (again, because i feel that they are saying that because they are with me). getting a man has never been a problem (“lisa,” justin says, “you have a big ego.”), but feeling good about myself has been.
i’ve always felt that i’ve been at war with myself because of that. i have always feel that i either do one of two things:
- lose weight
- gain weight to wear lane bryant clothes
my body is in this in between stage: too big to buy ‘regular’ clothes and too small for the ‘fat stores’.
this past summer, justin and i found several stores that catered to the ‘plus’ size woman. i found the funky clothes that i liked without feeling awful about the size. so i thought. one time, i grabbed this really cute long blue patterned skirt, and it said it was a size 3x. i tried it on. a tad too small. the skirt was on sale, and i figured i was just bloating so i bought it anyway. i took it home and showed my roommate who put it on. now, my roommate wears a size 9/11, and the skirt fit perfectly. she and i started laughing about the irony of a size 3x skirt that was made for ‘my size’, and fits my roommate instead.
t’s a joke.several months ago, i made plans to meet sonya and group of friends for a night of bar hopping. justin and i had been driving with michael all over scenic highway 1, from sf to santa cruz. we had gotten home really late, and i was planning on just jumping in the shower and getting dressed. after picking out my clothes and laying them out, i started drying myself off, and started getting dressed. my shirt felt tight, my skirt even tighter. when i did my hair, my face looked bloated and unreal. i felt totally disgusted with myself and started crying about how fat i was and how miserable i felt. i quickly got undressed and put my clothes away. i put my fav sweats on and sat in front of the computer, doing nothing but moping about my lack of self-esteem.
justin keeps telling me how much of a beautiful body i had. what wonderful skin, and how curvy i am. he keeps telling me, over and over, about how great i look in certain outfits and how men react to me. he’s just saying that cos he’s fucking me.
i recall this one time, alan and i had gone bra shopping. we were wandering around this store looking at all the pretty bras, when alan said to me: “with your face and cindy crawford’s body, you could make a lot of money (modelling).” i grew so angry at that, and to this day, i can still us in my hindsight, in the store and how i felt. and how his words haunt me to this day, six years later.
i guess the stigma of being the ‘fat girl’ in my younger years have never really left me. of all the times i’ve been set up on blind dates to be dumped later on because i was ‘too big’ (or too tall or too this or too that). or that when i was involved with someone, that i could never really feel comfortable being naked with them because i was always conscious about my size. it never mattered to me what they thought (honestly), it was what i thought they thought about me that made the difference (in my mind).
i’ve always tried to be honest with myself and my body image. the days of wanting to be a size 6 is long gone, and i’m comfortable with that. i just want to feel and look good, to my own design. but when i see magazines, that cater to my generation, showing 6′ models, with size 2 body, it piss’s me off. and i still don’t get why, after 20 years of feminism, that those magazines are still talking about ‘how to get the man you want!’ (which ironically still applies to those ditz’s who are too insecure with themselves.) or some other crap about this that or them some. it always has pictures of these super-skinny models with their model bf’s. real life isn’t like that.
nearly a year ago, i lamented about the same thing, and i had started a section on my web pages called ‘life’ that was in tuned with the more current issues at hand then my usual blathering. i had included an image from the body shop (which promotes beautiful women in all ages and sizes and has a great skin care products to boot) and a rant similar to this one. the image showed a ‘big woman’ and the face looked like barbie. the makers of barbie were pretty indigent about how having that ‘similarity’ on the body shop’s page, and the body shop was forced to put an x in the middle of the doll’s face. the doll was called ruby btw.
i got a lot of email from strangers telling me how great it was to find something so positive about being a ‘bbw’ (i hate that acronym, and what it stands for. i always feel like i should be weighing 300lbs and be called bertha). and it’s not that i was feeling positive about the whole, it just piss’s me the right off that we can’t just accept each other for who we are and not what we are.
i won’t kid myself and think that everyone thinks i’m beautiful, because it’s not true: i mean, this is what makes us all induhviduals is the fact that what we like is all different. it just pisses me off that magazines, retailers, clothiers, and everyone in the fashion industry keeps trying to push down our throats that we need to all not be larger than a size 6. it’s fucking ridiculous and no one should have to stand it.
but we do stand it, and it’s sickening.
recently, a new magazine is in town, touting to the plus sized women (starting at size 12 and above). so far, from what i’ve seen, the magazine has been a success and people are clamoring that it’s been a long time coming. thinking along those lines, i subscribed to the mag, and i’m going to see what it’s all about. will it actually cater to fashion that i like (the high falutin crap/trendy crap) or is it going to be the retread of the now defunct mag BBW that pretty much showed big ass women wearing clothing from omar the tent maker?
i guess we will wait and see.
fixed memories
i fixed the links for my ‘personal’ page. so instead of looping around to this index, you actually get to see more of me. (crowd roars)
memories
i was driving into SF to pick justin up from work today, when i felt that i was in some sort of time continuum. it felt like the mere 15 minute drive was hours. i looped around downtown sf, looking for a place to park, and i felt like it was this continuous flow. i am attempting to clarify what i was feeling at the time, but it’s not quite getting there.
hrm.
i hate it when i have all this information i wanted to talk about, and it’s not coming out like i want it to.
that really sucks my dick.
fan mail
since i can’t remember, what i was thinking of, i decided to head on to another topic: fan mail.
last night, i received a few pieces of fan mail, pertaining to yesterdays entry. i was both pleased and surprised at the same time. i get fan mail, occasionally, but sometimes it’s from people who want me to find god or some shit. whatthefuckever.
both emails, which came in fairly close to each other, talked about how funny they think i am. i think “hey that’s great. i can be pretty funny.”, but, sometimes, when i’m in moods like this, it’s not about being funny but what i feel. (hey johnny, what’s it going to be?) but thanks guys for the email 🙂 you’re the reason that i write this crap (well, not the only reason, but i’m not going to start arguing with myself to get more hits.) always tell me that you love me.
memories part deux
GODDAMNIT!
i’m sitting here crawling around my desk, tearing things apart looking for my fumbling towards ecstasy cd, thinking that this would help the semi-writers block that i’m having, but i can’t fucking find it. i’ve torn apart my stereo, my roommates stereo, my cd-case, my cd holder. i know it’s not in my car. i can’t find it in my house. god damnit, thelma!
i think i’ll go do something entertaining now.
like pick my nose or something.
actually, I just found solace, so i can deal. it’s sorta jived my memory about what i was thinking about earlier (dammit i should have pen and paper always around me).
strange currencies
i was dating this psycho-wench for a while.
she absorbed everything i liked and did and
began mirroring me. all i seem to have
picked up is emoticons.
Ralph W. Middaugh, Jr
justin was dinking around his machine, and we started kissing. which lead to us fucking in the kitchen, which didn’t work too well because he is soo tall and even with me on my tip-toes, i couldn’t bend over enough for him to do me like a dog. so we commence into the bedroom, rip our clothes off and fuck like crazy. i say something like “i don’t want to hear you talk about love.” and he says “okay, i love to fuck you then.”
after we are done, and talking, he says something that sparks this weird correlation in my head.
(getting ready to run windows for the first time.)
i remembered my roommate (psycho-bitch irene) calling me when I was in pennsylvania about the fucking rent. which lead my thoughts to when i found a strand of long red hair in the towel in the person’s bathroom i was staying at. which lead me to remember phone sex. which i haven’t done in, well, probably a year. which now leads me to remember making snow angels in the front of the dorm at wilkes-barre university. which reminds me that my friend michael telling me about how his hero did the groundwork for the train between wilkes-barre and new york.
i’m in a strange mood.
i just emailed ralph and told him to entertain me.
every time i go to kiss justin, he says “now don’t bite!”.
i feel angry, sad, depressed, melancholy, aggressive, nosey.
i think i will just go watch another harrison ford movie, Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom or
something. Harrison Ford was soooooooooo hot when he was young(er).
shit, this entry is worthless drivel. and it’s past midnight, so it’s the fourth already.
just fuck me running.
(in 1992, there was only 2,000 domains registered on the internet. now there is over 5 million.)
big sister is watching you
i remember the first time i got on irc. it must have been in 1994 or 1995. after several unsuccessful attempts, i finally found a channel, called #nin that i liked and was joining on odd occasions (re: when i should have been in class). one day, this character ladydeth and i were sitting around yacking, when she said something like ‘hi lisa rabey’.
i was scared shitless.
not knowing anything about the wondrous power of /whois, i had always assumed that my identity was kept secret. it wasn’t. little did i know that my info line in the /whois command provided the person loads of information, such as my ‘real name’, my ip number, and what my user id was. now obviously, this is just a scant explanation, but humor me for the moment.
i asked her (if it were really a her), how she did that. after much teasing and giggling, she showed me the ropes onto irc. several weeks later, armed with scripts and a better working knowledge of UNIX, i was safely hidden.
with the advent of kiddie-hax0rs (kids who find gui-based programs to ‘hack’), and the damn near easiness to do so, you can change your /whois identity on irc with barely a sniffle. you can fake both dns and ip numbers, change your user id (thanks to mirc), and fake just about everything there is now. i would say roughly about 80% of the population doesn’t care about this, but the 20% that does, this is helpful (if not harmful) information.
but the purpose of my discussing this isn’t to show someone how to do it, but that no matter what is said, your privacy on the internet is an oxymoron.
last night, i was talking to my friend jacob, whom i met on #easteden and whom i’ve known for about 3-4 years. while we were lamenting about how lame the web was and how lame even irc was, i decided to check out my counter states for simunye.org. while i would say overall i could give a rats ass about how many hits i get, i’m always curious as to WHO is accessing my page. since i put the link up on first domain to here, i have seen the hits go up. okay, no big deal. .com is in every fucking search engine, and i have all three domains on my .sig file. but still, i’m nosey as hell, and i wanted to know.
slip.net (also known as the fucking company i work for) offers full access to web logs, which is pretty damn cool. you download some lame program like webtrends, use it in demo mode and off you go. stats and java based information shows up and you get to see crap like what hours the pages are more accessed, and things that are not that great (like what browser/OS). i’m sure if i really gave a fuck, this would be important, but it’s not. I just want to know about the PEOPLE.
so one day, i’m hanging out at will’s page, and he has this free counter that allows you configure a lot of shit for it. you can do things like have a cookie inserted so it won’t count ‘you’ when you do the page (handy for me since I always refresh it when i’m writing it), and you could also put in a list of top 10 domains to see whose coming from what domains that would be relavent to you. so, i’m configuring the fucker, and i put in a domain of someone, who i haven’t spoken to in about 8 months.
now you would thinking ‘why would she do that?’. well simple: i’m nosey and i wanted to know if the person who basically said: “i don’t give a shit about you anymore.” was lying or not. 🙂 i always just ‘wondered’ if when people say that if they meant it. i know that i don’t (all the time, depending on the person), but that’s me and not them.
so i’m nosing around, checking out my stats. and i look. i blink several times, and say ‘holy shit!’. jacob asked me what’s going on. i give him the basic rundown, he sighs as if ‘damnit lisa, stop being so weird.’
what it was, is that one person i never though would venture to my page, ventured. i thought about why that person would, and a zillion things went through my mind. i fired up ws_ftp, down loaded the log files from simunye.com, and started manually going through them with a fine tooth comb. since the access to the log files are in ascii format, it shows up as ip numbers, and where they were referred from. so for instance if you do a search at a search engine about: +hot +big +cocks, and for some unknown reason, my page comes up in the listing and you go to my page, not only do i have the ip number you are coming in from (with handy tools such as traceroute that will allow me to figure out the isp/company that it originates from. which i could report to the isp/company with, by checking their radius logs could figure out who was on that machine/ip that particular day.), i know what browser your using, what OS and that you were at at the search engine looking for +hot +big +cocks humor me on the technicalities). i check through a few things, and yep. that person has been to the site where the lisa chronicles were originally set up, several times in the month of september.
BUSTED!
what does this mean?
actually, unless you are a freak like me, who constantly needs to know about things she really doesn’t need to know. i thought about emailing the person and saying “so, i thought you didn’t give a rats ass about me.” but then they would probably end off some long ass flame or they would ignore me.
okay, in all actuality, it begs a few questions (ones i was thinking about before i finished my smoke), and so i’m going to answer those questions now.
Lesson Learned:
The main lesson I’m stressing here is that NO ONE is ‘private’ on the internet. Sure there are exceptions, but those are few and far between. But guaranteed that if there is someone like me manually combing log files, there are people doing a search on +hot +big +cocks on altavista. So remember that when you are looking for something.
I also thought about many possibilities such as:
It possibly cannot be that person.
This is also a possibility because they are not the only ones using that particular domain. It is an ISP after all. But the chances are that is pretty slim since it is a regional ISP and I don’t know that many people (other than them) in that area using that ISP.
They are reading this now and won’t come back.
I’ve existed 26 years without them, and so I can continue living. 😉 Okay, that is rather snotty, but truth be told, this page is for me, not for them.
they are reading this and think you are even more crazy then before. doesn’t the word obsessive mean anything to you?
Erm.
Okay, it sounds obsessive, but it isn’t really. Obsessiveness would be hounding this person, by email, phone, snail mail. Hanging pictures up, thinking we are going to work things out, and all that other fun stuff. Basically anything that seems a little overboard, probably would border on obsessiveness. But truth be told, when we broke it off, it hurt. and it hurt bad. i considered this person to be one of my bestest friends in the whole world, and it hurt that we no longer even had some sort of communication level or that we were even going to be speaking anymore. i think that if anyone went through that, they would understand what i’m feeling.
but you just wrote a whole entry on the fact that you found a their domain in your web logs.
Sue me.
i think that i’m going to go away now….
okay okay look. it’s like this. certain people really dig hard into me. they strike much emotion and depth *from me* it’s frightening. i do crazy things, but it’s because i want them to know that yeah, i really dig them too. not many people do that to me. less than a handful in my whole life. this is one of those people.
i’m not going to be stupid and think that we are going to be even friends one day, because i won’t delude myself. but i guess i just wanted to say ‘you know, i miss you. i still think about you. i hope your doing okay. and i still care in some sort of capacity.’
um, sure.
okay, here is another example. when i was 19 i dated this guy, alan. we dated from the time i ws 19 till i was 21. we broke up, and i was devastated. i spent two years in grievance because of it.
last winter, i was out to dinner with my friend michael, and i saw alan’s twin in the restaurant. i thought to myself “how the hell can he be where i’m at?”. my stomach dropped to the floor and i cried all night. and it had been over four years since the break up.
even though i hadn’t even barely thought of him or what happened. it became nothing more than a dim memory. the mere site of his ‘twin’ just burst my poor heart into flames and anguish.
okay, that’s melodrama, but, you get the point. 🙂
a mind fuck game
that could very well be true. this person and i were not that hip to being completely honest with each other. it was always a struggle, and it was always exciting because of the struggle. they couldn’t conquer me and i couldn’t conquer them. that is what made it exciting. at least to me. they were my hero.
sounds like you’re in love still
what is love? but a flower blooming on stem?.. bad poetry. i don’t know what love is. but i know what i’m feeling and i know what i felt with that person. i know how that person made me feel. it wasn’t always rational, and it wasn’t always right.
the relationship, in a lot of aspects was totally unhealthy: too much fantasizing, too much projecting. too much hope. too much left unsaid.
so get over it.
hahahahahaha.
who says i haven’t? i’m not OBSESSING about him (see here), it’s just that. i always had about a 1000 different answers for everything. i just miss them. a lot. why can’t that ever be good enough for someone?
So, i could continue on with this for hours, however, Justin is waiting for me outside and it’s time to go home and do something this weekend.
Let’s just say, even if this was nothing but an over assumption of one web log, to know the possibility that person is curious enough to even venture here. well, that’s enough for me.
1.not really. however, this is for arguments sake, and so that i won’t spend hours arguing with myself. i want it all. i would never settle for less. but i will wait. for what i want. for the most part. just the fact alone! convinces me that even in some aspect, no matter how much you say you don’t care, you do. 🙂
slack
There is something uniquely satisfying in slacking. while on one hand i have quite a bit of work to do, on the other, with all the big head honcho’s at ISP Con, i can slow my day down to the point where i can do my web pages, and still work. i can truly multi-task.
i’m da man
the head honcho for our company asked me to fix his PDA. Seems that it has an infrared device that allows him to export files from the PDA to a desktop computer, so that he can interchange the information when he needs to. I had attempted to, and got as far as, getting the software functioning properly for back-ups on non-used machine (he said it was crashing on him all the time when he attempted to do it on three different machines).
I spent the better part of my day yesterday researching the stupid thing: downloading the pdf manual of the PDA, reading the instructions for the infrared device and attempting to track down a human at sharp. majority of it ended in vain as i wasn’t able to get very far in my research. the phone numbers by sharp for an ‘authorized’ dealer were actually to: a home and a cell phone. the phone numbers given to me via their voice prompt to a place in Texas, was no longer existing. so i packed it up and went home.
this morning, i got the bright idea of installing the damn thing on my machine at work (running windows 98). amazingly, the software installed with no issues, and with some jiggling and muttering “work you piece of shit,” i got the zaurus to communicate to the infrared device. i was able to export the files to a .csv files, and finished within 30 minutes (more time spent getting the two infrared devices to see each other and communicate).
I walked in and told don that i had it working and backed up the files. he said ‘your da man!’. I grabbed my crotch and went out for a smoke.
i love you. i love you not.
last night, as justin and i were lying in bed, i started speaking in this monotone voice about how it all was -before-. it encountered my walks through life, and with how my previous relationships were corresponding to my depression. i talked about danny a lot, because that is all i kept remembering. i thought about what it was like when he and i were living together, and how trapped i felt. how i felt that i could not possibly feel for him as much as he felt for me.
sometimes, when i see justin, i still see danny. it hurts you know, to look at one person, think of someone else for all the wrong reasons. both danny and justin have the same gentle manner, both just want to be happy, and both loved me beyond reason. but, i feel like it’s hopeless. that i will never ever allow myself to be content enough to settle for one person. i’ve often thought of polyamory as being my main choice of how i will handle relationships, but even then it feels tainted. i don’t know what it is about me. i know a lot of how i feel is correlated to my depression, but how much and why? i said to justin last night: i wish things were much easier for me. i wish i could be the kind of person that could find the one person that i could say was the ‘one’, like everyone else does, but, i can’t. i have so many ‘ones’ that it’s just a joke now. i smiled sarcastically when i said this, but justin understood.
i spend a lot of my time thinking about how justin feels as he watches me go through this. i know things that i say or might say will be painful to hear (they are painful to feel), but if i don’t tell him, our relationship (which is hanging by threads in some areas) could fall apart. he’s given more to me than anyone else in my past and i do not want to not lie to him.
so it’s a tough decision.
i feel so detached from him and from anything else. i want nothing more to have the same problems that everyone else does, but i can’t see my life living in that way.
right now, as i wait for my ramen to cook, i’m typing this up. i’m looking at a black/white picture of justin & i together, that was taken at one of those cheesy photo-booths and I can’t even recall what I was feeling on that day. And that only happened less than a month ago.
oops!
yesterday, when i was updating the lisa chronicles, i had inadvertently dumped the main index file for my personal site. i was going to upload it again last night when i got home, but winders 98 and photoshop 4 seemingly are arguing, and just gave up. i’m redoing the index page anyway, so it would have changed 🙂
something neat
every now and then i go looking for myself on the internet and see where i’m linked from. chances are, more often than not, i find myself linked from the same people’s page (of people that i know). But here is some cool stuff i’ve found about me or my namesake, simunye:
– my friend dan named his car after me, and it won a race.
– from my days of hanging out with the hax0rs
– someone had one of my old ass pages in their bookmarks. i did email them to let them know i was no longer at that address.
-University of Georgia Augusta has access logs for April 21, 1997. My reverse dns shows up as i had been to the site.
– A quote that I had in my sig file that actually made it to someone’s page. I’m so pleased 🙂
a poem
one thing i found on the net was a poem that i had written on the day i went to a beat-l party, and found out wm. s. burroughs had died. the poem sucks, but heck. works for me.
a generation gap
a sparking of times, events, and people
i scarcely recognize
grabbing together all pieces in my memory
of who these people are
and almost succeeding
talking of times, events and memories that
occurred before i was born
of sex, drugs, events, places that no longer exist
a matter of bridging together those who knew
and those who are just beginning to know
of sparking interest in new blood to
rejuvenate the passion and the rawness of the
beat generation
of drinking wine,
of laughing,
of smoking dope
and feeling like a child sitting at the adults party
just listening and absorbing everything in
and learning along the way
-a ‘poem’ i did for the death of wm. s. burroughs, 8-2-97. it’s crappy, i know but i found it on the net 🙂
shiny happy people
so i’m sitting here at work, which is constructively known as a lunch break. justin is now working the 9am-4:30pm shift as a telemarketer, and he swapped his hours to be in sync with mine. he commuted this morning with me, and this was probably the first time he had to deal with morning Bay Bridge traffic. we held hands, and joked as we slowly made our way into the city. it’s nice having him there in the morning. it doesn’t feel as lonely as it used to, when it was just me and Howard Stern/Vinnie & Sarah. I am attempting to recruit daniel from work to ride with us as well, so that we can grab the car pool lane and save $2 bucks a day. Doesn’t sound like a big deal, but, car pooling also allows us to zip past the backup at the toll booth.
Since I just got paid this past friday, it was one of the first times that i had paid bills straight after I got paid. Generally I just do things like go out and go purchase crap i think I need. I’ve noticed a trend in my spending habits, is that the more depressed I get, the more I spend on crap (does someone really need 30 pairs of shows?). Needless to say, it was weird to pay off things, and look at my pile o bills and notice they weren’t so high anymore.
however, this is not the real reason why i started writing this in the first place. this morning, my friend AntKnee, from sf-fumblers, posted this story about how he was a party this weekend, and one of his friends stopped breathing. Only one person out of the whole group knew how to do CPR, and it was frightening to realize that this was damn near an average statistic. This prompted me to write a reply to how I felt about the whole situation and general health as well.
Last night Justin and I were laying in bed, and I started to talk. I had been feeling so disassociated with everything recently, that I can’t even conjure up (or imagine to conjure up), feelings of anything else other than survival. I can’t imagine that not so long ago I was in love with Justin, and I thought the world was at my fingertips. I spoke of these things to him, and told him how I felt. Somedays I loved him more than life itself, and other days, I felt like I never loved him at all. he asked me if the later was pretty recent, and I said ‘yes, it was’. I didn’t want to say these things because i was afraid of hurting him and myself, for even when i did say them, they felt both true and false. i feel in a way that i’m living life vicariously through other people: i see what they have and attempt to emulate it to some extent. i feel detached and alone. this is not uncommon with me: i’ve felt this way before. but the difference is, that in a way, i don’t know if i want to correct or help this now. it seems to be so heavy of a burden.
but the flip side is, i look at my life within the next 10 years, and i see myself still working for a start-up company, where i’m not making that much money and i’m living with justin hand to mouth every month. i don’t want to live my life like that. it frightens me that i can and would become something like that.
not so long ago, i had these ideals of how life, to me, was supposed to be. it represented this sort of nuance i felt that very few people had or would want to have. this feeling of ‘something’, that can’t be explained and that when i attempted to explain it, would become more of a choked up answer than a reality.
i remember once, jeff and i were talking on the phone. i think it was the first phone conversation we had. i remember talking about this feeling of a ‘whore’ that i felt, that because i couldn’t connect with anyone on any sort of level, that my ability to move from one relationship, almost effortless, raised a few eyebrows. jeff said ‘i know what you mean’, or something like that. i remember leaning back on my bed, closing my eyes and sighing deeply, because for that one moment, i felt okay. one other person in this whole fucked up world could feel what i felt, and i didn’t feel so alone anymore.
sometimes i miss that feeling. and i have had to think about what was it that i missed? did i miss him? did i miss what we ‘had’? did i even love ‘him’? i realized, i missed that feeling of feeling ‘okay’ even for a short while. i didn’t love jeff zapotoczny as himself, i loved the idea of what he was in my mind. parts of me loved what he represented to ‘me’ on other levels. i don’t know if i ever loved ‘him’ to begin with. so much was wrong that i simply ignored it, and thought i could accept it.
the irony is that, now, nearly two years since it began, and nine months after it ended, i feel nothing that would construe as what i felt before. time heals all wounds. time allows you to forget. but time also makes you remember those painful times when you don’t want to.
to justin’s credit, i feel some of those same things i felt with jeff. the analogy, which includes all my past lovers as well, is like a birthday candle: it lights quickly and burns for a short amount of time before dying out. with justin, it’s like those endless flame birthday candles: it lights up, dies and comes back to life again.
i wish life wasn’t so complicated, as to that i feel like everything was happening without me. i wish that i could not be in ‘pain’, for whatever pain it is, so that i can enjoy what i have. justin says, that because of who i am, nothing is going to be easy. and i suppose on some levels he is right, but it would be nice to know that for one day, everything can be okay.