my birthday is tomorrow! it’s not too late to buy me something!
i brake for pornstars
last weekend paul and i were at the mall shopping around. i had no idea what i wanted for my birthday. since we have the means to buy what we need when we need it, i haven’t been lacking in anything.
paul pulled me into a goff-in-a-box type store and i saw the perfect bumper sticker i brake for porn stars. since i’m a pronstar and not a pornstar, i bought it anyways. the following day after affixing said sticker on my car, i nearly got rammed into at least FIVE times from people trying to read it. either that or virginia drivers are even more horrid than i thought.
speaking of driving, on Tuesday i finally took my ass down to the dmv to get my license replaced (i’ve lived in virginia since november, you’d think i’d do this sooner) and to get my tags. now. here is the screwy part:
i’ve been informed by several virginia residents that the cost of getting plates/tags in VA is quite expensive. it’s based on the tax of the car which can actually run into hundreds of dollars. i was so afraid of it costing an arm and a leg, that i opted to get plates in cali before i left (which was an arm and a leg in itself). but then (dramatic pause) my plates expired, i had gotten busted for speeding (twice) and found out my license was suspended (punishable to time in jail in virginia). so i set out to find a list of things to do before heading to the dmv.
in the state of virginia, you need to have safety/emissions test done first. then it’s on to the dmv where you tell the customer information person what you need to do, they give you a ticket and you wait for your number to be called. the cost of my plates were a lot cheaper than i had anticipated. cost of reinstating my license, tags/registration for my car (for two years) plus personalized plates (that say FSCK ME) came to a grand total of 130 dollars. today i love virginia.
the other neat part was that you get your license right then and there. why does that excite me? because i remember living in california and in Michigan you had to wait weeks to get your license. *snap* picture taken, wait 10 minutes, schazam! new license.
28
tomorrow is my 28th birthday.
and i’m having issues. major issues.
why is turning 28 so fucking hard?
if someone has the answer, mail me.
my old ass is going to bed.
Tag: Existential Crisis
mid-life crisis at 27
April 25, 2000 — my father dies.
April 29, 2000 — paul, jeff and i fly to toronto for his funeral.
May 2, 2000 — my fathers “wake” where i meet up with cousins i haven’t seen in 10 years.
May 3, 2000 — i bury my father and we all fly home.
May 4, 2000 — paul and i drive to virginia beach for a court date.
May 5, 2000 — go to court and get a speeding ticket on the way home.
May 8, 2000 — come home to find out that i have a suspended license and I go back to work.
May 10, 2000 — i get bronchitis.
May 29, 2000 — realise i’ve been spending the last few weeks in some sort of funk that can only be described as “depression”. i’ve gained a lot of weight, i don’t give a fuck about my job, my life and other etc related aspects. paul and i have arguments that are short of starting WWIII and i want to kill myself however the concept of death has sent me to thinking that since I don’t know what it’s like after you die, then i don’t want to do it. which is the one good thing about being a human: we have the ability to reason and to think about the consequences of our actions.
i’ve read enough trippy novels to last a lifetime. i’ve been reading anything and everything i can get my hands on, however they always fall into the same suicidal, woman is wronged, strong woman without a man genre: ie: the oprah book club. every week we go to barnes and noble and every week i pick up about 50 bucks worth of paperbacks that paul said i wouldn’t be happy unless it was suicidal, depressing or something else knocking down the human spirit.
and sometimes i get flashbacks. i’ll read about someone or watch television commercial/show about a woman who changed their life at 30, 40 and even 50. how life is precious and wonderful and we shouldn’t throw it away. and all i can do is get up at 1am and throw up the remains of my dinner into the toilet. that is what i thought about life sometimes.
and i hated work. i hated getting up and getting dressed only to speak to moronic idiots who supposedly know what they are doing and don’t. i hated pretending that i liked what i was doing. and everyone is leaving. all the good engineers are LEAVING. and i wanted to scream and shout and say “i have no fucking idea what i’m doing. stay!” but i can’t cos that would be selfish and i can’t be selfish.
and i didn’t want to, really i didn’t want to, come off being whiny and pretentious. but when the doctor looked at me (my! you’re a big girl) i suddenly became conscious of the world around me. i became conscious that i was in love even if i was hell bent on destroying it. i was conscious that i had a life that was worth living and i wasn’t living it. i remember a few days ago i was laying in my bath and i was feeling up my tummy and felt new stretch marks from the recent weight gain. the skin felt like satin and while it was glaring red against the rest of me, i felt like that was my cross to bear suddenly. that my weight gain coupled with the world surrounding me was driving me to not leave my apartment for days at a time. i can’t remember a week in the last few months i haven’t been late to work. i can’t remember a time when i wasn’t planted somewhere in front of a television or in front of the computer. everything showed my lack of attention: my relationship with paul, my body.
rants and raves
well.
I’ve been busy, what can i say? the last month or so has been completely insane and crazy as I’ve been working and Pauly has been up here to start moving his stuff up as well as GET THE GODDAMN JOB AT ANDOVER! woo! I’m so excited. we even, gasp, opened up a joint checking account. 😮 dude, this is like so incredible 🙂 Anyways, email pauly@geek-haus.org to congratulate him on his new job.
Anyways, on to better and other things. For all of those who thought that since Lisa found true happiness, that there would be no chronicles, let alone sad/depressing/insightful ones as i am prone to doing in the past. wrong. as many of you have already know, not only am i Gemini! but i am also seasonal depressive, mixed with obsessive/possessiveness, bipolar manic depressive and a touch of multiple personality disorder.
basically, this past weekend, i had a list of stuff that i was working on and just didn’t do it. i stayed in my big queen sized bed, watched crap on teevee and ate. i swear the only person i talked to was paul. hell, i could barely get out of bed to take a shower. i felt, just, so out of it. everything came crashing down and the reality that paul won’t be here for another three odd weeks is just so overwhelming. i know he was just here last week, and in that three week period he’s gonna be moving in lock, stock and barrel, but just the utter loneliness of living alone was killing me.
firstly, i thought after being alone for a few weeks i was going to resent him when he came up because i had already marked this territory as mine, but once he got here he just fit in so well. we fit together like gloves. being with him, the time we were together, just seemed so precious. and i hated having to drive him to the airport to watch him fly back to Miami.
making love to paul is this intense experience. and it’s not about the rhythmic thrusting it’s about looking down and seeing that silly little grin he does when he’s happy.
now where the hell did that tangent come from? oh yah, so paul was up here, i met some of his family — but that isn’t the issue here.
but my depression is. I keep having these fleeting moments of thought when paul will come to me one day and say that he no longer wants to be with me – and that scares me. i was telling him on the phone the other night that everything about him is perfect. there is not one thing i feel that i have sacrificed for being with him or want to change in him. he is mein gott. literally.
but this depression thing, it can be a drag — if you know what i mean. i just can’t handle how it affects me somedays or how it treats me. i learned when i was at the emergency room way back when (October) that i probably had polycystic ovarian disease, which means i have too much tetersone in my system. which makes a lot of sense. which would explain the aggressiveness and other things (including heavy duty mood swings). and that simply by going to the OB/GYN and getting the right mix of birth control pills and drugs, I would be peachy. I know I would probably feel better, but I probably won’t be able to do anything till after the first of the year.
This time of year just sucks, so horribly. And it’s not that I miss paul so much or want him up here, it’s just that my first instinct is to always just go into hiding (and eat) and just do nothing. there is so much rattling around in my head that i haven’t quit figured out what to do yet. it doesn’t help that i do not get along with my family in the least bit (other than my brother) and that for the most part, i feel like a damn orphan. i sit there and listen to paul literally gurgle about Xmas with his family and the traditions that they have and i get caught somewhere between jealousy and envy and wishing i could be a part of that. and yet, it’s not yet. it’s too soon. i just, i just find it so hard to relate to people this holiday season as they rush to and fro to be with everyone.
I just don’t get it, I suppose. It’s not the happiness or the spirit of the season, but just that i feel more detached than usual. I guess right now it’s a mixture of everything that is wearing me down. And I was thinking, Paul and I have been going back and forth about me flying to Miami to meet his parents for Xmas. Logistically, it would be perfect, but, emotionally it would be too draining – at least on me.
I feel so helpless sometimes. All weekend, when paul had the opportunity, he’d call me to reassure me that everything was okay, i was wonderful and that everything was going to work out okay. You just get to the point where being strong just isn’t worth it somedays. And between sniffles, I told him this. And other days, I’m ripping him a new asshole because I cannot find that happy medium that would just make me happy. I wish I could give him that for Xmas, just no issues about anything, just being me and being happy with him (which, for the most part I am).
I’m finding, as usual, the more i write the more off topic I’m getting. Next thing I would be telling you that I’ve never had a vaginal orgasm. which is true. and that for the most part, I’ve never liked oral sex performed on me. i have way too many issues for one person. and yes, paul knows about this. and it’s not that i don’t find sex unfulfilling (au contraire) just that i can’t fucking let go of issues matters and concerns to take it where it needs to go. This is obviously something paul and i are working on.
HOTHOTHOT DOMAINS FOR SALE!
About a month or so ago, I got really bored and started looking at domains that were being auctioned off at Yahoo. When I finally organized the domains into some sort of order (listing them by bidders and then by amount) — i was flabbergasted. Over 1000 domains were up for grabs for obscene amounts of money and yet very few people were buying them.
Back in 1995ish (or thereabouts), I had several goals: a: to take up c++ to code my own bot for irc (my unix teacher said that irc was going to be the death of me yet — amazing how my addiction to irc landed me to where i am today, eh?) and to host my own domain. I had gallant plans, I did. I was going to do everything locally and be cool and stuff.
Needless to say, the first thing i did was check lisa.com, which was obviously taken. as was lisa.net and lisa.org. then i literally thought that all the domains were hosted independently on their own servers (I mean, this was way before virtual hosting took off) — and the prospect of owning a domain seemed daunting. I thought i would literally needed to run unix at home to run my shit. and i was prepared to do it 🙂
I guess the point too all of this is just that HOW FUCKING STUPID PEOPLE ARE! no one is going to spend a million bucks to buy a domain just because you list it on a website. I can’t but help to laugh at people who do this for a “living”. It’s like the dumbass customer we had at slip.net who purchased something like 10 domains of popular movie star names, but spelled like this: e-l-v-i-s-p-r-e-s-l-e-y.com. Um. Hello. Am I the only one who doesn’t get this?
rhubarb
man, i need to stop writing these things late at night. I’m getting mahself all confused.
On Sunday, my friend Keth came by packed with her Final Fantasy game, an extra controller to pick me up to head to Andrew’s and Godmomas new place in San Jose. The meeting was a bittersweet one. We met to congratulate Andrew and Gunilla on their new apartment and to say goodbye to me.
I find it hard, in some strange and broken way, to come to the realisation that this week will be the final week I will be in the SF Bay Area. I sat talking with Caroline (Cathleen’s sister) the other night about my 2.5 years here, and in many ways, I can’t quite come to grips with knowing that what I’ve put myself through. I know, personally, that looking back through my discussions with her, that my own life seems so damn ridiculous. How you may ask I know, personally, that if someone related to me about what I’ve been through and what I’ve seen right back to me, I would have said “man, that chyk is on fucking drugs. she’s not trustworthy, independent nor is she even really COOL.” However, ones own assessment of themselves seems to be way harsher than reality. We had a fairly healthy debate about women in technology (ironically, it was four women and two men at the shin-dig) and my basic stance is this: while i believe in the fight for equality for all sexes, women need to stop bitching about what is “owed” and start proving that they are worthy of their own due. I cannot take feminism seriously as long as those who claim to fight for “women” end up reading Cosmo, Vogue and other mags when they are done at the end of the day. ’nuff said.
On that note, i actually got packed this evening — man — three boxes worth of crap and i haven’t hit books, CDs and clothing. I can’t believe how much toys, knickknacks and overall crap i’ve accumulated since i’ve been here.
———–
you know how it is. you start looking at one friends webpage, which means you go to another and yet another. fortunately, i knew two of the people and knew of the third.
two of the pages i quickly skimmed were of course journals. not to the extent of which i have written, but, journals nevertheless (how cool is it to say that i have entries going back to 1996?). Since I knew of the persons, at one time, fairly intimately, it seemed strange to read their entry and feel — nothing.
Not strange perhaps, but more of an “gosh, they got what they wanted — why can’t i?” kind of feeling. not one of jealousy per se, but one of “why is it always THEM that gets the goods and not me?” kind of deal.
Last night on the phone, Paul babbled for some time about music and how it affects us. The strange ironic part of the conversation was that earlier in the evening, Justin and I were on our way back from running errands and I was grooving to NiN’s new cd (which, ironies of ironies CDNow finally shipped two weeks AFTER and I had already went and purchased the cd since I had never received it). I loved watching the back windshield pound to the beat of the bass of “Even Deeper” and Justin looked at me and said “I just don’t get it.” I replied “Don’t get what?” and he said “Music. This does NOTHING for me”. Justin knew, since the beginning of our relationship nearly 2.5 years ago, that music was a huge HUGE mainstay in my life. I used it for many reasons. And there are songs — some of which I’ve stolen from people I’ve met and some i’ve conjured on my own, that makes sense to me. I need the music in my life in order to survive.
but that is not the point and neither is this really.
lately i’ve been feeling detached. i toyed today with ideas of things and nothing. and i’ve been spending like mad (3 lipsticks, 2 pairs of shoes, boots, 4 pairs of pants, 3 shirts, 4 pairs of tights, the checkbook is hurting!). Most people spend their cash on hardware — i look to outfit my wardrobe. I heart being a girl.
I am not copesetic on everything right now. in fact, i’m choosing NOT to think because it’s so much easier than thinking. It hasn’t dawned on me that i’m leaving in 2.5 days.
love
How do you have a girl fall in love with you?
You buy her boots.
friday
Friday, September 17 had to go down in history as being one of the worse days in mankind. Well, at least in my personal history line.
I woke up early Friday morning to take Justin to work when I noticed something odd about my car. It didn’t look “right.” I found a note attached to what used to be my drivers side mirror. It was from Cathleen. It seems that during the night she was pulling into our driveway, tried to miss one of the cats and ran into my car instead.
All of Pleasant St. heard me screaming “FUCK!” at 5am. What a way to start the day.
This is the story she’s sticking to, but, I’ve conceded that to an extent it can’t be true. See, not only is the drivers side mirror fucked up (and hanging by a few wires) but there is also a 6 foot long scratch going from tire well to tire well. ugh.
I played show and tell all day at work with dragging people out to look at this mess. I wouldn’t have been so pissed if it were not for the fact she a. left me a note and b. i had spent nearly a grand within the last month getting my car out of impound and getting it ready for the trip in a few weeks. I forgot to mention this didn’t i? My car got impounded for being parked in a “commuter” zone on 3rd street in san francisco. I had a nice little anxiety attack at the corner of 2nd and Stillman, Justin slapped me and I was back to normal again.
The other fucked up part is that while both my roommate and I go through the same insurance company, they are notoriously slow with getting their act together. Last October I had rolled into a car while waiting at the toll booth to get onto the Bay Bridge. No biggie really, my foot slipped off the break when i had leaned down to grab my cd-holder. But the woman whom I had hit claimed that she got a neck injury! Ugh, I wasn’t going any faster than less than 1 mile per hour. You heard that right. 1 mile per hour. And she’s claiming neck injury?
Lisha twitches.
Anyway, that started off this past glorious friday. Got into work and found that we had a power outage at 6am with no UPS back up. Though power was restored fairly shortly, NIS+ had taken a dump which meant that people couldn’t get logged into the network and route. And if they were logged in, they couldn’t route. I was logged in at 6am and had gotten dumped (I was in fact, writing this column). I went to log back in and got these lovely funky errors. I tried dialing into several other providers and couldn’t route for the life of me. I figured something had gotten fucked up along the way so I did some maintenance and found that my disk had errors. No biggie. Went to reinstall Windows (which overwrote LILO) and then it started crashing back to hell and forth. I couldn’t even just BOOT into windows without getting a ton of errors.
bah.
So Friday.
Car got sideswipped.
Windows partition died (I’m now exclusively in linux or mac)
network goes down.
I’m sure I can think of a few things or ten that also went wrong. I kept claiming I was going to go home and buy a fifth of vodka (750 MIL for you non-us folks) and drink it down and fix my machine. I did neither. I haven’t even ATTEMPTED to get into windows to fix it. I should, my firewall is so airtight that I can’t even freaking do DCCs on IRC. I can’t ftp (ftpd is broked — jesus) and mah stupid fucking quickcam sucks ass in linux. *growls* However, GNOME is quite pretty. I like it much better than KDE or windowmaker. I should say, Enlightenment with Gnome on top. Whatever. It’s pretty. If you want to see my KDE desktop?
obsess
The strange man lurking on all my desktops is Paul.
You wanna see something really sick? Go here.
I had conceded in my head that I was ready to talk about this. I’m not yet. Don’t ask. I’ll tell you in a few weeks.
moving right along
I’m so fucking bored at work, it’s not even funny.
A little over a month or so ago, someone had asked me to send out an email for them to the staff mailing list. I had done these requests before. This time, the letter was not (supposedly) appropriate. Both me and the letter-writer got “in trouble”. The thing is, that they couldn’t fire me and since I’m leaving anyways, they haven’t done jack. All I do everyday (and all day) is fuck around. I try to get involved with projects but they don’t give me responsibilities because they know I’m leaving. Many people wanted to see me fired — but if they fired me they would have had to fire the letter-writer which they were not going to do.
They also gave my counterpart Matt a raise so that now I AM the lowest paid person in the company (at least in our SF office) — and I am also one of the most senior people there.
Fucked eh?
To be honest, I care and I don’t care. I haven’t give a shit about my job in a few months seeing how fucked over Matt and I were getting. We were promised raises back in April and July only to never see them follow through (well, now at least for me). I spend all day doing documentation because they want what’s in my brain but yet I didn’t “qualify” for a raise.
BAH.
I’m so stressed out these days, it’s not even funny. As my leave date approaches it seems more and more shit is being thrown in my face. Carolyn, Cathleens sister moves in (making five people living in our 2 bdr house instead of the original 2). Justin is moping around because I’m leaving, we have nine cats that Cathleen promised to take to the SPCA months ago and never did (I’m so leaving that up to her). Our house looks white trashy enough to make me gag, I’m sick of my job. I hate the area (is there any real reason why it takes me 1.5 hours to drive a 20 minute drive?) and the list goes on and on. The only bright thing is that I’m leaving, but with the added expense (car stuff + misc crap that keeps popping up), I’m finding myself frightened enough to start just freaking out.
I have no idea.
You know, I told Shelly on the phone last night that I was afraid of things working out. I have NEVER been happy — at least I know not for the last four years or more. I can’t remember when I was just freaking content with my life. Many people have said that my cross country odyssey makes them slightly jealous. you know, me doing a thelma and louise bit (minus louise, minus brad pitt, minus going off a cliff) as I will be alone for four days in my car. alone. with a carton of ciggies and 260 cd’s and a trunk full of computer equipment.
And I can’t get through peoples heads how frightened I am of packing up and just MOVING my shit cross country. I do so well with impromptu things but since this is planned and this has been dragging on for months now, the closer i get to my leave date, the more I find myself falling apart.
I’ve never ever told the story of how I came to California or why I came. I think maybe less than a 1/2 dozen people know the truth, and even then it’s hard for me to swallow. The last four years of my life have been this period i like to call the dark period because so much has happened to me in such a short amount of time it’s ridiculous. I find that, when I go to tell the story, my mouth drys up and I block out events. I knew what I was doing to get me here and I manipulated my way across the west. I can’t forgive myself for doing that but I also am having a hard time forgiving the person that I was involved with.
To many of you, my life starts when you read this and for majority of the world I’ve always lived in Oakland and I’ve always worked at slip.net. To be honest, it’s always felt like i have. Like there is no time and space before this. But there is. I’m NOT a california girl and I’m not happy here.
Justin has said he is afraid that I’m running away (again) to something that doesn’t exist. That my move to Virginia will just make things worse. I know he’s being selfish. If he could, he’d live with me forever, work at PBI and watch the Hitler, I mean History, channel is his off times. But I’m such a shell of a person I used to be — that it disgusts me. I can’t deal with it much longer.
I’ve got everything lined up in a row. Prospective boyfriend obsessing over me. New job at a kick ass company (making phat bank), new place. My own place. New things to do. Education. Everything. It’s like, God finally knocked some sense into his head and said “Yanno, Lisa has been having a rough life as of late, I think I will finally put things in perspective for her and give her what she wants” and the thing is, I’m so fucking intent on destroying it because I can’t handle being happy. But see, I can’t believe in a god or a god when I can barely have faith in myself.
I know, this much is true. There has never been a righter time in my life to move on then now. I know, that despite my grumblings, this is the best thing for me. I know that the trip will be fabulous and that I will fall in love on the way and that everything will work out for the best.
Because to be honest, I really have nothing left to lose.
Except myself.
Or maybe I’ll find myself out there in the wilds of Texas and join my mom in a convent.
I’m just kidding.
x0x0x0x0x
moi
i don’t need yours because i have one of my own
I don’t know if this was covered yet (you think you can swallow it), but sometime ago, my friend Jessica wrote me this email in regards to my website. She liked the idea of doing an on-line journal, but had some trepidations about doing it. Namely, do I censor myself and how do those closest to me feel about what i write?
the question is a good one, and thankfully i thought i had all the answers. justin supports me in everything that I do, primarily with my writing so what i have to say, really doesn’t bother him. but do i censor myself?
yes, i do.
in a way, i was disgusted with that answer. and with how i felt about everything else, that made sense as to why i would feel disgusted. people often see me as being this raw sort of person and i feel that i am. but i started to notice that when i would write da’ chronicles, that i was blocking things that i would never admit or revel to the public at large.
for what reason, i can’t be too sure. but some include that many people that i would probably bitch about and complain about DO read my pages and suddenly i’m taking their feelings into consideration. they would probably ask me “why can’t you talk to me about this to my face?” and i wouldn’t have a very good answer other than “i dunno.” and as i write this, i realize that i have covered this before. *shrug* i’m old at 26. shoot me. 😉
anyway, there is a lot of stuff i think about, that i have never even thought about including in da’ chronicles. my relationship with justin, how i really feel about him. people that i work with, play with and socialize with. my relationship with my parents. stuff that would be considered really personal and stuff i probably wouldn’t feel too comfortable sharing.
but today a productive day. i finally got my cd’s in order and pulled out the crappy ones i have never listened to (a rob-ism: if you don’t use it for 6 months you don’t need it). sonya took some of them home. i’m either going to pitch them to a few mailing lists i’m on or else just take them to a place that purchases used cd’s. and while i was making notes of additions and subtractions from the collection, i started using an old journal that i had.
i have this thing for buying notebooks (whether softbound or hardcover) that are blank pages so that i can jot something down in it daily. daily ruminations about crap that bothered me, but i knew in my heart that i was censoring myself even then. not as badly as i was here on the web, but i still wouldn’t admit even privately to myself what i really felt. how fucked up is that when you actually carry two journals: one for public and one for private showing?
to me, it’s extremely fucked up. fucked up enough to have me analyze it. well just kidding, but i think part of who i am is found is this simple analogy. i have a public and private side to me, both which are equal to each other. sometimes it may be more dark and other times it may be more complex and other times it’s fluffy like cotton candy.
i liked the idea of keeping a private journal.
the reasoning has to do more with getting rid of my depression than anything else. oh be sure i’ll still be as scintillating as ever, but perhaps keeping two journals i can reach down and write about stuff that really matters (to me) and really bothers me.
the bright side is that i won’t sit here and debate on whether or not i will be mentioning the fact i bought new nail polish called cherrywood.
(but you already did that lisa…)
it’s called allegory! or something. so kindly stop walking across my freshly washed kitchen floor!
great big nature hunt
i am the queen of white socks.
for someone who distastes socks with a passion, a pile of white socks sits on my bedroom floor. i remember having a box (now long since unpacked) that was packed up while i was living at our old place. not remembering that it contain sexy under things, socks and basic junk, i went out and purchased more socks.
which simply doesn’t make sense because i don’t wear socks. ever. okay, tights and maybe the knee socks i found i would wear once in a while, but white socks? and dozens upon dozens of them to boot?
um, okay.
some strange little fetish i was not aware i had.
I’ve got a caffeine headache. cathleen went out and purchased a case of mocha frappichino’s for me. i had three within 15 minutes. these things are like liquid caffeine. driving home from dropping my brother off, i started twitching and freaking out on 80/580 due to the caffeine intake. i felt like some drug user who was itching for a fix. i was so scared while driving, that something was going to happen. i kept floating into other lanes because i couldn’t concentrate on what i was doing. the fact i was able to park my car was a luxury.
next time, i won’t drink three frapp’s within a short time. nor will i do it later on in the day, since it is now going on midnight and i don’t think i am going to go to bed just yet.
so I’m currently having issues. lots of issues. mainly having to deal with who and what i am. i find it absolutely amazing that now we have found a pretty cool place (albeit in Fruit-Fucking-Vale) and I got my new (w00h00) car, that new issues arise.
so how do i fix these problems?
I open up and start reading a book by Jean-Paul Sartre, and think I’m the fucking coolest person on the face of the planet. I still have my Nietzsche books to go through, however, I can only handle so much intellectual discourse in a short period of time.
See, I’m tangenting from my issues, matters and concerns.
let me be frank.
first off, these aren’t “new” issues to begin with. they are the same old schtick that i keep re-hashing over and over again. I’m looking for a resolution to these idea’s and i don’t know quite how to resolve them.
education
this has been the big debate for so long. it’s getting annoying to me.
shit.
time for bed!