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.
Author: pookiebear
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.
talk about the passion
this has probably been one of the most shittiest weeks i’ve had in a long time. starting off with the insurance company fucking me over several times (and not using lube), and ending with me almost quitting my job, i guess nothing could get any worse. well, save for the fact i was to be in sf to finish working on the project we are doing for alice 97.3, and i didn’t hear my pager, my phone or anything going off to meet dave in the city. i didn’t roll out of bed until 3pm, nearly 14 hours after i crawled in. now it’s early sunday morning and my toes are freezing.
which to say isn’t a good thing.
however, on the bright side, justin cleaned the hell out of my printer, and now the smearing problem is gone. i can now write letters to people, which, i owe some to my mom mainly, and my main excuse for not writing was due to my printer not working properly. now all we need to do is get some rj-45 cable and a hub, and we are all set for our little network.
but what i have been worried about, in a more serious way, is passion. i’m not talking physical passion, i’m referring to passion of anything and everything. the way one likes/loves a movie, an object, a book, something. whatever, it does not matter: just passion. It could be the way you feel about a football team or a softdrink. well you get my point.
regardless, the situation at hand is that lately i’ve been feeling not as passionate. i can’t say how long i’ve been feeling this way, but, all i feel like is that my life revolves around getting up in the morning, going to work (after fighting with traffic for an hour), listen to people moan in the office, come home and go to bed. that’s my life. all the things i’ve been wanting to do or see haven’t been materializing themselves, and i feel hopeless.
i look at justin’s face, at my roommate filtering in and out of her busy social schedule, at the people i work with and their lives, and i still feel like something is missing. i don’t know what it is, i just do. i have never been able to explain the feelings that sometimes rise in my body, and sometimes i’m not able to clarify even when i do say something. i find myself almost on the verge of tears when i see wonderful things occurring around me, and i feel stale and lifeless.
i feel like the plants sitting on our front porch: thirsty for life.
my complete version of things does not always meet what everyone else see’s. mayhap for instance it’s not that i want to go to school to learn (which i do), it’s because i’m hungry for the experience of doing so. i’ve often felt cheated of what i have received in my life, and other times, i feel sickened by what i have let occur. my mind becomes this empty waste pot of nothingness, all because the choices i’ve made. it’s easier to fool yourself into believing you are happy then actually attempting to achieve it.
and justin wonder’s why i’m so ambitious.
hi! my name is suzie (homemaker)
again, i could play catch-up. it’s amazing how quickly the month just zoomed by, and the next thing i know, it’s now almost october, and my poor widdle web page hasn’t been updated nor has it been revamped as planned. such is the life when I’ve been promoted (don’t start counting my sheckles yet. it’s basically in name only.), and my hours have switched from swing, to regular joe (ie: 8-5). because of this, since i was getting up early in the morning to work on my site everyday, i had more than plenty enough time to get an entry done for the day. now, i barely have time to shave my legs, so before i knew it a month went by.
changes and occurrences happen as they usually do. for me the past month involved with: having my first fight with Justin, getting into a fender bender, having a close friend die, being promoted. having one of my oldest internet friends come out and visit me. plus add in driving to Vancouver for the final Lilith fair (which i want to write about asap), going to great america with the irish kids, camping out at montara beach last night, suddenly i’m miz social butterfly with no room to breathe.
i have found it’s stifling, primarily how my life was turning out. i saw myself in 10 years still living in sin with Justin, and then i was so busy worrying about this bill or that bill, or whatever, and it drove me insane. I know a part of me has that ‘maternal’ quality to it, but still, it makes me mighty nervous when it comes down to it.
so justin and i had a long talk, and since he doesn’t feel motivated to go back to college, I am. I have been planning on applying to a community college here in SF until i can get my transcripts from my old school and figure out what i need to do to graduate. so come january, it’s full time school for me! yippee! then I will take over the world. as you know, lisa-ism will be revered in all countries and i will be worshipped as i should be.
keep it simple, stupid
now the whole essence about doing this website, was based on the premise of keeping it simple. i needed a gimmick i could use to keep it short and to the point, while also making it upgradeable. here is the premise: i currently own three domains: simunye.com, trippingonstars.org, simunye.org. simunye.com is the concept that i was going to do internet consultation. at first it was a rocky start, but within the space of a week, i have gotten four contract jobs doing side work for personal and business based clients. everything from basic html instruction to winders instruction. (no can kick my ass in winders, sorry). taking that basis, I’ve gotten pretty handy with hardware, I’ve known software for years, basic lan configuration, some unix (get this: *I* helped justin install linux *tither*), pc crap up the wazoo, and of course, internet crap in general. take my roommate who works for cybercash as a unix support engineer, justin who knows hardware (and soon unix!) like there is no one else’s business. sasha, who knows front page to make bill gates weep and dedicated support (configuration of routers, dedicated lines, dns addressing), and you have talented people who are going to know their shit. christine was bugging me, because already with me doing four clients within the next few weeks, i have overflow, so sometime in my spare time, i have to show her html to make up the slack. argh! but that is going to be the generalization of the business. i figure if these fuck nuts can command buku bucks for ‘NT sever admin’ and don’t know RAS, i’ve got it made.
simunye.org: this is going to take over as my personal site, mainly dealing with the lisa chronicles (which you are reading now), personal stuff about me, my pet projects and what not. plus host the archive for the lisa chronicles. i’m not sure how much space bryan is letting me have for hosting my domain here, but heck, i’m just darn cool as it is.
trippingonstars.org: okay, here is the deal. anyone whose been reading this knows that i’m good friends with will, who lives in seattle with his adorable son liam. will found this place on the web called xlibris.com. what this place does is it will publish your book for a flat rate of $475US dollars. Your book will then be “published” as well as you get a set percentage from every copy ordered. sounds pretty good deal huh? so i’ve been checking into it some more, and i need to find out if we get a Library of Congress number, as well as other cool stuff. so will pitches this idea to me, i think it’s rad, and then I think: the more people who submit to this, the cheaper the cost of the book for the initial start-up. but then the proverbial light bulb goes over in my brain, and i realize that i can also generate money from advertising, and as well as partnering with companies such as amazon.com. at this point though, a lot of this is still ground work that i have to cover, and with three domains now to be filled and idea’s to be completed, i’m going to quite busy.
but the main fucking point i was making here, is that i’ve been spending the majority of my day figuring out how things were going to work, in terms of how i wanted the sites to look. and i realize that the more i spent time on debugging a new idea, the more time i spent making something look like crap. basically i’ll excel at what i know: keeping it simple and to the point. however, the need to be ostentatious is driving me nuts, but i’ll survive.
social engineering for dummies
so tonight i’m whacking away at my web site(s) and justin is sitting on the couch watching the telly. he’s flipping through the channels and all of a sudden i hear an announcer mention something about yobie benjamin. i ask justin to stop and i get off my ass and walk that big three feet into the living room, and take a look at the tv.
i’ve known of yobie (via email, not in person), since about october of 1996. one of my interests then was internet/computer security, and i has subbed myself to several lists pertaining to that issue. one list, dc-stuff (maintained by pete shipley), is basically a bunch of hax0rs that congregate every year in Vegas for DefCon. But you can glean some good information out of the lists, which just like all lists tend to have a bunch of noise.
anyway, yobie is being interviewed about a new virus called “back orifice” put together by a SF based hacker called SirDystic (get it?). Basically, this “virus” is attached to a program, and even with just having the program down loaded onto your computer, enables the other person to have free access to your files. SirDystic’s main point was that it was to show that winders (all flavors) were NOT security conscious, and that anyone can hack into it.
Okay, who cares about hacking into winders? I can see this guy’s point, however, what he doesn’t seemingly get is going to be the backlash of this. now not only are all the kiddie point and click guru’s going to attempt to hack into some poor unsuspecting person just downloading their pr0n off the net or whatever, which is going to translate into mass hysteria if that person suddenly calls his isp (which with my luck is going to be the one i work for, but i don’t do phones anymore, hurrah!), and is there going to be problems!
ugh, never research anything on the net. you could spend hours.
to make a very long story short, yobie mentioned about how the common set of hackers is basically ‘social engineering’ ones: basically ones who know nothing but think they know everything. i quipped ‘hrm, must be talking about se7en.’ Justin laughed.
good night sweetheart, yeah it’s time to go
footnotes now that it is 12:53am, 9.21.98
*The archive for the lisa chronicles should be up tomorrow (or today literally), and no later this week, depending on my work schedule. shit i have to drive to menlo park tonight. damnit. okay, later this week it is.
*hopefully all websites will be functioning at full force later this week, a week and half from at the latest. by the end of september for sure.
*i am addicted to coke slurpees. so you can guess that I’ve been sucking down while doing this.
*any potential authors who want to be included in my little project, smack me on the ass and tell me to get a move on it. oh yeah! send me your short story and I’ll see what i can do. *neither Photoshop 4 OR 5 likes winders 98. hrm. justin just installed Linux. should be downloading the binaries to gimp then. actually, I got the itch to install Linux so bad, i spent some major time dinking around with him then working on this. blow me. 🙂
miss me?
It’s been 10 days, 23 hours and 55 minutes since I’ve done an entry. 🙂 (I just love time stamping!)
Depression is a sickness.
For the better part of this period, I had been living in a fugue state of depression. it’s cycle reared it’s ugly head once again as i was struggling to keep from falling apart. many things always seemingly contribute to my depression. whether it will be a slight weight gain, change in diet, love life status, or anything else in between. Saturday the 15th, justin, michael and i had gone driving down route 1, and frolicked among the beaches towards Santa Cruz. that night, distraught over not having met my friends in time to go to the bar, i came home and hurriedly took a shower and got dressed. when one of my favorite skirts started feeling tight, i pouted and ripped my clothes off, put on sweats which threw me into a state of depression. justin was perplexed, his answer was “wear something else”, but if your a girl, and like me have a ton of clothes, one item not fitting is enough to make you go batty.
sunday afternoon, i suddenly felt immensely better.
the onslaught of my period makes my depression go away, for the most part. i have found correlations between pms and my depression, and when i was on the pill, i was able to pinpoint exactly when the depression was coming and how to best prepare myself.
but it’s exasperating, at best, to always be in this constant state of flux. i hate dealing with it, and i hate feeling so damn helpless. when a piece of clothing throws you off your rocker, it’s serious.
some would say it was time for me to do something about it, and i do agree. what that something is i can’t quite figure out. seeing a therapist for the most part isn’t logical: i find them to be more voyeurs than helpful. i don’t feel comfortable seeing someone on such a regular basis, when i feel that my depression can fluctuate so much.