love, actually

I’ve been living alone for exactly one year and one day. How nuts is that?
Go lisa, get your groove on! It’s your birthday!
I want to fall in love.
I’m ready to fall in love.
I couldn’t think of a good segue into this, but it’s true. I spent a lot of time with my maiden aunts recently, and I really don’t want to end up like them: bitter, desperate, clinging to the past. I want to love and be loved. I want to feel close with someone and feel their closeness. I want to rip apart the facades we put up as we approach people and feel their need for me as such as I need them.
It’s a very scary thought, thinking about allowing myself to be vulnerable — to willingly strip away all the barriers and just let it go. On the same hand, it’s also powerful feeling.
Makes me feel invincible.
I just want to be seriously and insanely in love. I learned a lot of lessons this year living alone. I learned I could do it by myself and I learned I could handle living alone without getting lonely. I learned I could love my friends and keep them close to me and I had great tolerance for my family. I learned how to let go of people who were not good for me.
I also learned that I like to take care of people. This was not something to be ashamed of, as I once thought it to be, but it’s actually a strength. The tricky part is when to know the difference between taking care of someone and mothering them to death: a problem I had with Paul. I think that because Paul was not responsive to return this in kind, I started to regret doing it. That regret became resentment. But when I’m with my mom and I help her, and I worry about her, I realise that I genuinely like doing this for her. She appreciates me, she’s proud of me, and she loves me. This is a step with my mother I never in a million years I thought I would see, but it happened. It did. I’m glad that our relationship is taking such leaps and bounds and that I no longer feel the resentment i used to feel towards her. There is always some strain, but it’s over ridiculously minute shit that it’s not even worth the bother anymore.
The year was spent in a lot of retrospection, a lot of people watching and a lot of getting to know who and what I am. It’s very tough to learn who
and what you are, but one of the biggest lessons I learned this year:
Don’t let the career goals overtake personal goals.
Very important is this one. Ironically (or shamefully enough), I was watching Charmed and one of the minor characters said to Phoebe something about how her generation of women were so focused on being independent and career orientated that they forgot about their personal relationships. Here were all these women in their 40s/50s who had no one to celebrate lifes things with them. I got choked up about that one. Really. No lie. I really don’t want to be like my aunts. Ages 60, 59 and 46. All bitter and desperate. Every single one of them. Two of them had the gall to tell me that I was too old to have babies at the age of 31. Can you believe this shit? Too damn old to have babies. I do want kids, someday. Just not right this second.
It’s a powerful word. Is there anyone in mind I’m thinking of as I write this? If I say yes, then someone will think I’m going too far, pushing boundaries we never really explored before. If I say no, then I could be lying. So I’ll say maybe. I’m not saying I’m in love with someone NOW, I am saying that if it happens, I won’t push it away, like I have so many times before.
Patrick and I were talking about sex the other night and he asked me, “When was the last time you had great sex?” I replied, “If I was being a bitch, 1992 or 1993.” “Damn,” he said, “That’s cold.” Even though we were on the phone, I nodded almost violently. One part of me felt like it was the truth, the other part of me felt like it was a lie. I HAVE had good sex since then, but, there was something always missing.
Things I didn’t think about then, that I realise now. Parts of me that wish that I could turn back the clock to repair those moments, be more attentive to my ex-lovers, instead of being hateful or mean as I was wont to do. Communicate more to them my own needs instead of expecting them to take charge and know what I want. Many mistakes were made on both sides. I do not put the blame solely on them, however, they do have their faults.
So then this leads me to thinking about sex, and what my sexual needs are. I think a lot of it has to do that I often find myself at odds with how I want to feel as compared to as how I really feel. I don’t have a problem being assertive towards someone, I have a problem when the person EXPECTS it always to be me to lead the way. I don’t have a problem being kinky, I do have a problem when it’s always that way. I don’t have a problem with lack foreplay, but I do have a problem if that is all I want and the person isn’t willing to do even that. I do believe in the tit-for-tat love life: If I go down on you, you return the favour. I just don’t get why so many guys are hung up on simply not returning the favour.
Sensuality, that’s a big. A huge one. In my early twenties, I thought it was all about hard, head banging against the wall kind of sex. Instant gratification now. Damned their needs, mine had to be taken care of first. But then I was so about control during the sexual relationship, my needs never really got met. Orgasms? Hrm. Good question. One person has been able to give me clitoral orgasms other than myself, one other gave me vaginal orgasms. A minute percentage of my lovers, isn’t that sickening? The irony about the one person who gave me vaginal orgasms, is that I didn’t really particularly care for him. We were dating, we were even living together, but it was a bad relationship and bad times. He also had a fetish for getting fucked up the ass with a dildo, so much so, he preferred that to actually having intercourse with me.
But I digress.
I realised I’m not a casual sex kind of person. If I’m going to sleep with you, it has to mean something. It has to denote something. A beginning of something, hopefully not an end. I can’t just sleep with random men to fulfil my needs because part of my needs is that I have to be attracted both physically AND mentally. I’ve said this nine hundred times before: you want to get into my pants, engage my mind. Yet no one listens. This is why I prefer being talked dirty to or having dirty stories read to me in bed rather than seeing porn — I’m not a visual person to get turned on sexually. This is one of the reasons why I’ve always been a big fan of phone sex.
I need all my senses on fire.
I also realised I’m not a dating kind of person. This means, I can’t just casually date someone. I’ve tried that and it doesn’t work. I want to crawl under the skin and get to know them and what makes them tick. That’s the challenge. I need to have their attention on me and my attention on them. It’s fearful isn’t? Almost intimidating, but, this works for me. I need to meet someone and know that if we are “talking” that they are talking to me and no one else. Monogamous from the start. It’s not that I’m jealous or insecure, it’s just that it takes so much damned energy to get to know someone, to spread it out over several someones just seems ridiculous to me.
It’s been said that men are logical creatures, romance goes out the window a lot of the times. In conversations with my brother and his friend tonight seem to mark that as being true. My brother said he never saw me as the getting married type, and while I can see where he is coming from to say that, I feel that he is wrong. I just don’t think I’m the type for a
“conventional” marriage. Not in the white picket fence, 2.5 kids and 3 dogs way. That is not me. Is marriage? Yes, it is.
My dating experiences this year were minute, at best. But they were powerful. I was able to find a lot about what I wanted from these few experiences. Will I jump back in the dating ring again? Not in the tractional sense, no.
I’m braver, stronger and more assured now. Something I could not say a year ago. Not even six months ago. I’m not willing to be with someone for the sake of being someone and I’m not willing to be with someone if they do not feel the same as I do. I’m not willing to risk my life with someone who isn’t willing to risk themselves for me. Because it will never work out.
A lot has changed over the this past year, internally, with me. I was able to face a lot of fears, take risks romantically and pull out when it wasn’t working. I was able to look at someone I loved for 15 years and tell him I was not going to sleep with him even when it was offered. Can you imagine, how incredibly hard and painful that was to do that? But I knew he wasn’t going to fuck me because it was “me,” he was going to fuck me because I was available pussy. I cried and cried and cried. When the end came, and he wanted to do the friendship with benefits routine, I told him on the phone I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t be this person who randomly was available for quick and easy sex, because it would be, to me, just meaningless and empty sex.
I hung up on him. Never heard from him again. Never slept with him either. The only saving grace to my ego is that all he has to remember me is one of my internationally known blow jobs, ones that he remembered after all these years. He received two from me recently. Frightening isn’t it when your memory is reduced to a blow job?
Regardless of how that relationship worked out, it was needed, no matter what my friends said. I had to see him and confront him and gamble. I learned by my interaction with him just what kind of woman I was. I liked who I have became, that I was willing to risk it all for love and to walk away with no regrets when I wasn’t the person for him. That will be something I want to teach my children, to take risks. Take that chance. You never know what could happen.
I want to be with someone who is a risk taker, who is willing to gamble. Who isn’t afraid of being with me and knowing that being with me is not something entirely simple. I want someone who has goals, dreams and energy. Who, sexually, isn’t afraid of being sensual/passionate one night and slutty the next.
I always argued that I was a simple person, and I still think that is true. I just think my simplicity is different because I have so many layers. I used to think they were barriers or walls, Throw up so many, become defensive when accosted on something, toss it away and walk away being called a cold-hearted bitch. But, in retrospect, that isn’t true. We are often scared of what we do not understand, and I think much of the bad juju I got from exes is that they could not understand me and or they were frustrated when they thought they could “read me” and it was wrong. Or I did something that was different from previous interaction with me. But that, my dears, is part of my charm.
I do not feel like the bitter old lady that I often portray, I feel brave and hopeful. More hopeful than I had in years. I was able to get rid of a lot of demons this year, ones that I never knew existed and I’m able to be more up front about what I want and what I want.
PS: Masturbation lately has been in overtime. Self-realization has kicked my libido into over gear even more so and it’s driving me bat shit. Marathon masturbation sessions lasting over an hour have been common in this house. I’m telling you, I feel mightily sorry for the next guy I date because he is NOT going to know what has hit him.

lisa the geek

As many of you probably know, I recently acquired a Macintosh. I know I know, no — hell hasn’t frozen over. Basically what happened was that in the process of doing Y2k inventory, all the “junk” machines such as the production machine I was doing IEAK on, were not being included and were going to be sold off. I bought a Macintosh Quadra, 17 inch monitor, CD-ROM reader/writer (SCSI) and an external SCSI drive for, get this 100 bucks!. I’ve been spending all weekend getting it hooked up. The only fucked up part is that it’s a 68k Mac and NOT a power PC. gash. But anyway, you would be surprised how much software is still available for the 68k Mac. So I’m sitting here, doing the chronicles on my Mac (named imhotep) while my linux box plays Ned’s Atomic Dustbin God Fodder.
This so owns.
See, this was part of the problem. Mainly I wanted to have two boxen: One would run linux of some distro (now it’s Mandrake aka RedHat on crack) and some sort of gui based OS. The problem was that with Linux, many of what I use and do, there is nothing out available for it. I tried doing TLC on a linux boxen and lemme tell you, it was not easy. Mainly the thing is my spelling (very important of course) sucks major ass — and I needed a spell checker. There was NO getting around that. The only thing I found for linux was iSpell, which is okay but it kept saving the files to /home/lisa/temp — which was pissing me off. It would save the files as “12aksjdhf.tmp”. Then doing a hunt and peck looking to see which file was what with pico ain’t my idea of fun. I needed something that was literally easy, I could run my lame ass apps (like Aol/IM/ICQ/Eudora) and where i could also fuck around in linux. I wanted best of both worlds. heh.
Anyway, the problem with running solely Linux was the fact that half of my hardware wasn’t running. We are talking about a second generation Sony Vaio (200mhz) which I had pimped out with 12gig’s and 64mb of ram and a PHAT 56k modem. heh. Anyway! Moving right along, sound didn’t work — and with no sound when lisa is working makes for a very unhappy lisa. Everyone and their brother tried to help me out — nothing was working. It was some sort of legacy issue — that and PnP of course. But, thanks gods for Justin. I walked away from my comp the other day and he sat down, reinstalled Mandrake, got ipchains working, setup the firewall AND got it so that my sound was working. So now I’m jamming to Ned’s and typing on mah mac. 🙂
This rocks.
ph33r my elitness
grey cell green
So, nearly 10 days ago when i wrote my last missive, shit has been fucked up all around. My car got towed and I owed the City of SF 600 bucks to get it out of impound. I’ve been playing “Am I getting fired today?” at work (very long story — and no I’m not). I’ve been uber depressed. Been walking around listening to nothing but Front242/FrontLine Assembly/KMFDM — anything industrial/techno/gothic based. Spending too much time being really down on myself. I wish I had something specific to pinpoint as to WHY I’m feeling like shit — I mean — depression is coming. I knew when I went out and bought “raven mist” hair color and painted my nails “seduction” (aka blood red). I know shit is fucked up all over — and it didn’t seem to get better. I didn’t know what was going on, I didn’t know how to handle it. As obvious by Justin shaking me on the corner of 2nd and Stillmen when my car got towed. I’m slowly going INSANE. People are commenting left and right to me that they haven’t quite “seen” me like this in eons — and I know what it signifies. The next couple of months are going to be ultra-crucial. I’m moving to VA on October 7thish, I’m going to Atlanta, I’m moving to a new state — starting a whole new life. I should be FUCKING happy and I’m not. I keep degrading myself down to these pitiful little holes of hell and it’s driving me mad. I just wanted to be happy — and I think that everyone wants that as well. But I’m finding that all my old “things” that I was so angry at are resurfacing. Read anything before TLC came on-line in July of 1998 — you’ll see what I mean. Many of it still seems to be tripe to me — but a lot of echoes how I feel right now.
My mom is joining a convent soon. How quaint.
I’ve been trying to write a TLC for days now — but finding it harder and harder to do so.
I don’t know what’s happening to me.
Paul said I need to face my fears and only then will I be free.
I just fear some major heavy ultra-rejection.
I don’t know how strong I’m supposed to be and how much stronger I need to keep being. Sometimes I just want to die. I won’t lie to you. I’ve been calling the music I’ve been listening to “Slit Your Wrist” music. I’m not kidding. Do a search for Front 242 lyrics for the album “Off” — you’ll see exactly what I mean. I’ve been walking around going mumbling “just be myself, can i just be myself”.
I told someone 30 was my cut-off point. If I don’t accomplish a lot of what I want to do before I’m 30 — I’m gone. Now before you start going “Um, Lisa, that is SUCH a cry for help” and calling your local suicide hotline, don’t bother. 98% chance that I won’t off myself (I made a funny!). Anyone who has known me for years that these things pass with time and I’m never serious — however, I know that many of us feel, that from time to time, life isn’t worth living. And sometimes I’m happy that I made it through my first suicide attempt 10 years ago, and other times I wish I would have died. But that is neither here nor there. I’m just telling you how it is folks, that is why you are here.
I will make no illusions that I’m being serious. For a few days, i was dead serious. But, I have (and will always know) that this passes with time. Being bipolar manic depressive isn’t cool kids. It sucks major ass. Lemme tell you.
But things are looking up. I’m removing myself from one situation and starting anew life. I’m really digging someone I’ve been digging for 6 months and he’s mein gott (g). I had to say it to taunt him.
Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, there is so much, that you as a general public are not aware of. So much lies behind me then what meets the eye. Some people are not comfortable with knowing THAT MUCH about me — others want to own my soul. I give what I can — when I can. I give to those I feel deserve it and when I feel they need to have it. It’s not a game — it’s my life.
i’ve always been strong — and I’ve always attempted to make some sort of peace within my life. I’ve always strived to be the VERY FUCKING BEST that I can be. And that threatens people — and it’s harmful to others. My megalomania can be daunting. Fuck, I just created a new IM name: LishaIsGod. heh. Cos, I am god. this is my fucking world and I’m letting you enjoy it. If you piss me off, nothing a little DENY won’t work magic on.
I’m rambling.
Someone once asked me long ago the purpose of this site. I’ve been on slashdot, I’ve been linked a time or five from UserFriendlys website — People know of me. I’m not some nameless person in the crowd (well — heh). I am someone.
And see, in some sick twist of fate, this is NOT what I wanted. I never wanted to be known as se7en’s exfuck (which, two years later, still fucking haunts my ass), or anything other than myself. This website was purposely for my own purposes — I write to feel better. I write to create. I write to look back and laugh at my own stupidity or my own wisdom. You, the general public, just think I rock on with my frock on. And that’s okay too. I’ve created new identities for myself and I’ll keep creating till one fits who I am. Things are looking up. I’m hopeful, I’m optimistic, I’m moving on up (to the east side!).
I’m okay — really.
I’m telling you all this now because how could I not tell you. For over a year now, my life has been an open book Many people probably know WAY more about me then they want to know — but, that’s okay. I’m here and I’m still kicking and screaming and that says something. I’ve always known that if I was going to off myself, I would have finished the job that I started 10 years ago. But, I know that many things are going to happen, it does get easier and I have a 6’6 sadistic motherfucker waiting for me in Atlanta.
Things aren’t what they always appear to be — and I know that. And I’m rational enough to know that only I can control my fate (I won’t tell you WHY I’m subscribed to getting my daily horoscope, i can cos it’s cool) and i only can make the decisions to make my life better. For the first time, in a very very long time, I feel more confident in all my abilities than I have for a long time.
And what does lisa do when she’s down?
She goes out and buys new shoes of course!
And can someone PLEASE explain to me why the fuck I can’t find bra’s in size 36Ds? It’s not like I’m that big — jesus. I found bras in 36DDs but not single Ds. Sunofabitch.
I’m tired now. Carolyn (Cathleen’s sister who is staying with us temporarily) and I wear the same shoe size. We are going out this weekend
looking for bitchboots (imagine — 5-6 inch platform, knee high leather boots). Woo doggie. I can’t wait.
I tired and I go nini.
happy thoughts
Today I actually left the office and sat in SouthPark and ate a burrito from Pepitos as I enjoyed the beautiful summer weather and read Henry Miller. Regardless of the crap that has been occurring — doing the little things really makes me glad to be fucking alive.

Open letter to the hacking community, from Adam Penenberg

Feb. 8, 1999
Open letter to the hacking community:
Last week, Steve Silberman of Wired News called to tell me he and I and some other journalists had been duped by a psuedo-hacker named Christian Valor, AKA se7en. In April 1998, I had posted a piece on the Forbes Digital Tool web site about Valor¢s kiddie porn vigilantism and the fact that law enforcement knew what he was doing, but turned a blind eye. Cool story. Too bad it turned out not to be true.
I was certainly in good company. Steve also had written about Valor’s exploits, as had Newsday, the Independent in London, etc. Both Steve and I received letters from se7en’s ex-girlfriend simultaneously last week, but Steve got on to the story first. I was out of town. Sad to say, he and I were the only ones to respond to her letter. I told Steve I wouldn¢t post anything until his story hit. (See “Kid-Porn Vigilante Hacked Media
I can¢t comment on how the Steve or the Independent or Newsday conducted their research, but I would like to share with all of you how I did mine, and what went wrong. I¢m sure there are lessons to be learned.
As you may or may not know, I am no stranger to taking on journalists I think have concocted stories out of thin air. I broke the Stephen Glass story, the associate editor of The New Republic who made up a story on hackers¯and was later discovered to have made up some three dozen stories for a number of well-known publications (See “Lies, damn lies and fiction”: I also took on Beth Piskora of The New York Post, who I believe made up a sexy tech story on Organized Crime setting up phony companies for Y2K remediation, who then, she claims, inserted software to divert money from bank accounts (read: clients) to mob-controlled accounts. (See “Phantom mobsters”: This canard was picked up by Vanity Fair in a recent feature on Y2K. Vanity Fair has yet to admit it published a lie.
I hate it when you nail a journalist and instead of coming clean, he or she hides. This is what both Glass and Piskora have done. That’s why I’m writing this note.
For my story (Kiddie porn vigilante: I knew I couldn’t get on IRC and traffic in kiddie porn on a Forbes computer. You remember what happened to that journalist for NPR who did, and is now had to plead guilty to a felony¯all because he was ostensibly researching a story? So I relied on law enforcement, EHAP, and NAMBLA. I called literally 10 law enforcement officials who said they studied under Valor in one of his security courses. On the record, they would all vouch for se7en¢s hacking skills. Off the record, they all said they knew what he was doing but they didn¢t care. Everyone hates kiddie porn traffickers.
I also talked to EHAP, and they told me they were distressed by se7en’s actions, because it gave hackers a bad name. Se7en should turn them over to the cops or the ISPs, they said, not break the law in going after them. They didn’t say he was a fraud.
I also contacted NAMBLA through its web site. I asked if anyone knew a hacker named se7en, who was purportedly going after kiddie porn traffickers on IRC. I received a cryptic response, something along the lines of, “Yes, some of our members have been complaining about this guy. We just want to be left alone.” End of conversation. He refused to turn over any other details.
So I felt confident that with all this cross-checking that Valor was who he said he was. Obviously, I made a mistake. I think the most important lesson I learned is that law enforcement doesn’t have a clue what really goes on in hacking circles; they are not good sources for this. I also now won’t write a hacking story unless I can meet the hacker face-to-face and actually see evidence that I can then verify with other hackers¯or computer security experts I trust. This is how I approached my story for Forbes magazine on the NY Times hack that ran last fall (available online at: .
If you want to send me taunting email, telling me what a fool I was, feel free. I’m at But you can’t possibly be harder on me than I’ve been on myself this past week. You live, you learn.
Adam Penenberg
Senior Editor, Forbes Magazine

wired, se7en, and me
There is obviously more to the story then what is being said.
My few comments in the article doesn’t show the nearly 2 hours of interviewing and email between me and Steve Silberman. there is a completely different story that isn’t being printed, and hopefully, at this point, it will get out. my reaction to the article is that i think Steve did a fab job — however se7en isn’t the mature nor the “grown up” he claims to be. while i realize journalistic integrity, but se7en comes out smelling like a rose much more then he needs to.
the main question i have received as to “why” i “dissed” se7en:
when you live with someone who not only lied to you, to your mutual friends, dismissed his own friendships along having a tendency to be completely sadistic: you wish them nothing but bad karma. se7en knew he lied not only about the kiddie-porn, but about everything. he would tell me things about his past, his friendships, peers that would be absolute and blatant lies. He would make me ‘promise’ not to say anything — and yet my own discreet searching found out that nothing he said matched — and when confronted would claim that it had been covered up or distorted to conceal the truth.
this was longtime in coming. se7en and i have been broken up for nearly two years — so it’s not the disgruntled girlfriend bit.
if anything, the one lesson i want everyone to learn is that do not always believe what you read. no matter who publishes it. do your own research and find out the truth yourself — because it is out there. (queuing up X-files music).
this site has gone from receiving 25-50 unique hits a day to a unique hit every 30 seconds since the story broke at 3am PST. If you are having problems pulling up anything on the site, smack me on the ass and let me know.
PS: update: 1:41 PM
Getting lots of email from “supporters” and comments from others. Received an email from Adam at Forbes who has requested that I post an open letter that he wants the world to see. There it is. 🙂
Steve posted an update to the original story. Nothing new — basically he calls Christian a “fraud”. 🙂 Score!
blatant self promotion
I’ve been thinking for awhile about giving back to those who have helped supported me since I’ve been doing the lisa chronicles. So i decided that the coolest thing to give would be t-shirts to all the subscribers of the list. T-shirts are cool — we all love them. So what better way to honor those who helped me then to give them something back?
Here is the deal:

  1. There is currently 28 people subscribed to the list. Once I have hit 50 subscribers by February 28th, 1999, I will be sending out an announcement to the list on gathering info (mailing address and t-shirt size).
  2. If I don’t hit my mark by that said date, I’ll be sending out an email anyway to those subscribed to the list and requesting specific information. Any t-shirts left (I make 50 shirts, there are 10 left as only 40 people are subscribed), will be SOLD for the cost of the shirt plus shipping and handling.
  3. Recap: If you want a shirt, and you are on the list, you get one FREE. If you are not on the list, and want a shirt, you will have to PAY for it.

The shirts will be cool. I’ve already done the design. It’s just a matter of me buying the supplies and making them.
Some things to consider:

  • Going over the hit mark: At this point, I will do it on a first come first served basis. If I get more requests then what I’ve stipulated, I will work out a trade agreement or barter or something. I’m po’, so I can’t afford obviously to give shirts to everyone.
  • Concern over privacy: this is understandable. I run four mailing lists and I have never had the inclination to sell my subscribers to anyone. I hate spam just like anyone else. If you don’t want me to know that you are reading this (as I’m familiar at who is coming to the site by dns/ip number — not necessarily the person) then I guess you lose out 🙂

If I’m leaving anything out, please let me know. I’ll add more as I think about this.
This is obviously a blatant request to get more subscribers to the list as well as readership. But no one said i had morals or ethics! 😉
Now, don’t be sending me information on how you want a shirt and blah blah blah now. Wait till February 28th or subscribe to the damn list! 😉
PS: update: 7:49 PM PST
20+ new subscribers to the chronicles.
700+ unique hits.
Shitload of email.
I’ve been totally and utterly fascinated by watching people come and go. I don’t know what I was expecting — but again I’m not letting this eat up my life. I’ve been responding to email for the most part of the day — and now it’s nearing 8pm and I still haven’t finished my physics that is due on Wednesday (in which I will probably have a test — fail — and I can blame it on my own damn self for not having the will to stop mucking with the site and doing email). But anyway, a lot of positive feedback — a lot of new subscribers — a lot of contact from old friends I haven’t spoken to in years.
I don’t know what the fuck is going to happen next — several people are referring me to being famous. hardly. i am what i am. i have a story (or 10 or 15) to tell — i happened to believe in the truth and i happen to think that this time is the most right of any.
the one thing i’ve been promising myself, long before jericho or shipley joined in the fray was sitting down and writing the story myself — publish it on my site and sit back and let the cookies crumbs fall as they may. i’m bewildered by the sudden popularity and also the kind words (again — the article doesn’t show but a few comments on 2+ hours of interviewing I did) from strangers calling me a “hero”. beats me — i like to think i’m extraordinary — but — doesn’t everyone else?
i’m surprised I didn’t hear from a few people — namely Christian and CPM. But that doesn’t surprise me. Christian named me as being the only “witness” to his attacks and I derailed that. CPM offers unflattering information about me in her book – based on the fact that “se7en hurt you” deal. Jericho says that there is nothing I can do to stop it — obviously the book is already in fucking print!
blatant self promotion
several (like october) months ago — a friend of mine found it hard to keep up with TLC via web — so he inquired about an email version. I set one up — and invited those who were interested to sign up. Mainly people I knew or knew of signed up — no big deal.\
A few weeks ago — i thought “wouldn’t it be great that if i could give something back to those who gave to me?” and came up with the t-shirt idea. So I proposed a project: 50 subscribers by february 28th would get a t-shirt. however, the problem is that many people, since the article came out, s*bbed to the list _basically_ for the shirt. that kind of pisses me off.

  • I can only afford 50 shirts. I’m full time student and working full time. A lot of people have been behind me since this has been around in 1995 (yes not a typo). I feel that it’s only fair to them to give something back.
  • 20 new subscribers today ALONE. one person even went so far as emailing me his snail mail address to get a shirt now. Hello! the shirts aren’t going to be made until the end of the month! goddamnit.

So here is the new deal. The offer still stands for the first 50 people who subscribe. Anyone after that up until February 28th will be given the option to either buy, at cost, the shirt or barter. I love books/music. I need more books music. One of these years i’ll put a wish list up and people can pick and choose from that. sounds fair? So if you are interested in signing up — be forewarned that if you are after 50 — then no free shirt.
fizics is calling me.
i have to get off the damn interweb.

When I wake up, in my makeup

Waking up at 5am has got to go!
I feel drained and exhausted by 3pm everyday, and I want to go to bed when I get home from work. I keep hoping Justin will get another shift at work so that he can go in later, but nothing as of yet. He says they are trying to mandate a new set of shifts so that more people can work the 8-5 or 9-6 hours, but it’s not happening as of yet. I can’t believe I get up at 5am as it is. I love this time of morning. It is so surreal.
The following is not approved for children under 18
As many people know or have rightly guessed, my sex life is pretty open. There seemingly isn’t anything I have done or have yet to do (save me and two men, but I’m holding out for the right guy). One of the things that I like doing occasionally, is having anal sex with my lover. Now, I’m not speaking of him having anal sex with me, but the other way around. (If I need to draw you a picture, it would probably be best bet to go ask your parents about the birds and the bees).
I enjoy sex. I enjoy making love to my partner and I also enjoy being rough and rowdy. Missionary is okay, but not for long periods of time. The more rough it is, the better I like it.
Justin likes being sweet and sensual, so after over 6 months of being lovers, we are still finding a perfect middle ground. A friend of mine telling me about his nine year relationship with his boyfriend tells me that the middle ground take awhile to get to. I’ve initiated Justin in being more open about his likes/dislikes and also finding common ground when we are in bed together.
So the other night, we are getting all sexual and I let slip that I really want to fuck him. I was in the mood for being aggressive/dominating, and having him on his knees. He cringed and said something like “if you really really want to…”. And I said “I do.” But instead of making it more passionate, or working up towards it, it became more of a clinical procedure. First he had to go clean his anal area. Then the lights came on and the candles blown out so that he could see what I was doing. next was watching me put lube on the dildo because he wanted to make sure that I put enough lube on the damn thing.
So there we are, justin on his knees with his ass in the air, cringing like a school boy. I couldn’t stop laughing because obviously by this time I was feeling as passionate as a cat on a hot tin roof. he goes in telling me about how a few years back, he had to have an anal probe due to a serious gallstone problem he had. And that experience left him pretty anal (snicker) about his ass. He said the procedure was painful and he couldn’t sit for an extended period of time.
So i’m attempting to do shove a dildo up his ass, and he’s cringing and making sarcastic remarks. I can’t stop laughing because the whole scene was absurd. Finally, I smacked him on the ass and told him to get up. I put everything away and got dressed. There was no point in continuing our little experiment because i was no longer interested. He thankfully got up and ran to the bathroom for more cleansing.
My ex-lover Alan turned me on to this when we were dating. I had taken a very well lubed finger and shoved it up his anus one night and he screamed in passion. The man was writhing around like a two cent whore begging for more. It’s all about power, for me, to be in control. Of course the whole world knows that se7en (aka Christian Valor Ansieres) was into getting his ass fucked. He told me stories of how he used to jerry-rig dildos so he could back up into them and fuck them himself.
Other lovers that have come and gone from my life were pretty open about it. I found out via extended phonesex/netsex sessions with Jeff that he would have gone for it (never attempted, and don’t really want that image in my head). It’s not something that I require, but if the person wants x and I want z, we should be able to communicate on how to find it. But Justin’s whole behavior was a turnoff, so I wasn’t interested in finding out if he liked it or not.
Of course now, it’s perfect teasing material.

Last night we were sitting on the couch watching “Frasier” or something and he kept attempting on putting his feet on my lap. Justin has big feet (size 14/15’s), and even though he has pretty blue toenails, his feet are pretty calloused from all the exercise he does. I started shrieking about his “nasty” feet (I don’t know why they gross me out, they just do). He finds it damn funny I have ‘issues’ with his fucking feet. he says I should be able to let him put them on me when he wants to. I countered that with “Then you should let me fuck you when I want to.” He agreed to the point and suggested we buy one of those mini-dildos (about the size of a finger) to get him started.
Now that will be interesting, don’tcha think?

champagne wishes and caviar dreams

Something felt amiss today.
I wasn’t sure what it was, and I am pretty sure it wasn’t my new schedule. I checked my credit cards, my keys, my smokes. I felt like something was not necessarily missing, but out of place, but, I wasn’t sure what it was.
I flipped through my day planner (what a joke! I last used it back in June), and took a look at birth dates, and realized that Jeff turned 22 a few days ago.
I remember last year, I became totally egotistical and sent him some cheesy e-card, in which I signed it “To Roark (insert crap here), Love Dominique”.
Not only how fast a year goes by, but how endless it seems to feel.
Next weekend is Def Con, and I am not going. My plans with people (who won’t be named) to take down se7en still has not been put into effect yet. Really though, it won’t be that hard. Nothing more than the over 200 emails I saved from our “courtship” (ha!), that pretty much show that everything he’s told me, the world, dc-stuff, was a lie. Reminds me, I have to call UCLA tomorrow.
Justin has a sprained ankle, the poor baby. I’ve been stuffing him with lime sherbert and pineapple juice whilst I do this page. He keeps attempting to hobble to the kitchen, and I won’t let him. 😉 Isn’t that what gf’s are for? 😉
A couple of days ago, I was actually browsing the web aimlessly (I don’t do that much anymore), when I found this article by C/Net about the review of the four big ISP’s. What a fucking joke, because it lists AOL as #1, when AOL is really an OSP (on-line service provider) not an ISP. Gawd!
You are probably wondering, why does this piss you off? Well, it’s pretty simple actually. I’ve been working in the Internet industry for about 3.5 years now, and no matter where I go, and what I do, it seems that there is nothing but miscommunications about what is ‘correct’ and what is ‘incorrect’. For instance, didja know that the Internet actually consists of more then WWW? Yep! I know it’s hard to believe, but the Internet (which was started as ArpaNet), has been around since the late 60’s, and it is actually comprised of seven protocols: IRC, FTP, News, Email, WWW, Telnet and I think Gopher is the last one. I always forget the last one! Anyway, people always assume that the WWW is the Internet, and that is it! And see, it goes without saying, that this is why I was ticked off about C/Net’s article. AOL provides majority of their services in-house, therefore, they are an On-line service provider. It was not till recently that they actually gave out Internet connectivity, and the amazing thing is that their programs (email and ftp) are so arcane and antiquated, that they are worthless. Might as well teach people command line and get it over with.
Which won’t happen, but a girl can dream can’t she?
A few days ago, a friend of mine on the email list, sf-fumblers, wrote about how Random House has put up the 100 best books of the 20th century, inviting readers to also submit their favorites. While the Readers Best constantly changes, I was amused a few days ago when I Want To Blow Monkeys by Ayn Rand was listed as number 6. heh. I hate Any Rand. Geez. The woman stole the plot line of Gone With The Wind from Mitchell. She was not creative at all. 😉
However, since I have been checking the list a few times a day, I decided that my new project (and Justin agreed) was to read all 100 books on the list, and some of the ones off the Readers Pick. It is easier than it looks, as I have already owned or read about 25% of those authors, so I think that since I’m not in school, I might as well edubacate myself.


I created this intro page because it was necessary for me to make sure that people understood what was going on through my mind.
Many people that have come to these pages have been ‘awed’ by what I write. I am really flattered. Never would I have thought that I would post up some of the more intimate works, or be so ‘open’ via a medium where everything and anything possible.
Majority of what I write is true. Yes, I did meet Michael in The Meeting. No, we are no longer together. Andrew made it from South Africa to the states and is currently in Boston. Chad finished his degree and is living in Ohio, Matt is working on his Masters in Psychology in Georgia. JR I never heard from, Jeff (|ucid) is still in Pennsylvania working on his degree. Scott and Jeff (from Augusta, GA) are both getting their MD’s this summer. DeMoNBoX (Robert) I have no idea about, last I heard he was in Dallas, then back in Austin. Mark is still married to his wife and living in Baltimore area. Greg is still in ‘Oregon’ and we are planning on meeting this summer (platonically) in Las Vegas.
My life has changed, so much, in the last few weeks, its hard to even fathom what is going on. In one swoop I got a job interview and a new guy located in San Francisco. -If- I get the job, I will be moving to San Francisco on May 10th, 1997, and living with my new guy.
He’s not mentioned here is he?
No, he’s not 😉
He said to me recently that he was a bit upset about the fact that I – haven’t- written about him or posted it up here. I think, for once, I am doing things differently. I have written many pieces for him, and gave him the URL to a server that I have access to. We are (for my benefit and his) kept it all low key. Very few people know that we are “together” and even fewer know his name. One day, maybe soon, I will post the whole romantic meeting 🙂
But, I digress. All the obvious events are true, and the poetry is of my own imagination. 🙂
Lisa M. Rabey
Kalamazoo, Michigan
April 24, 1997

break and submit

I have decided to start dating these because that way you know when I have put them up.
Today has been a busy day to say the least.
Got -one- message from you telling me you’re in a bar, and that “you miss me.”
I really hate you right now.
And you know perfectly well why!
Have been looking through all my email, finally getting caught up on it. A few hours later, and I am still no closer to getting through it all. People responding to my posts, to my questions, wanting to marry me (laugh), proposition me, you name it, they want it.
What is also funny is that other lists I have been vocal on in the past, email from those people. So totally unrelated to h/p/c stuff, literature greats who tell me that they are now my fans. I feel like I am on the cusp, and I am really frightened. I never wanted this, any of this. I have changed ‘handles’ so many times, keeping myself underground as much as possible. I want people to like me for me! Is this something that -you- can understand?
Or am I being unreasonably paranoid about the whole venture? Or no? I have no idea anymore.
Back in high school, friends called me a ‘chameleon’ because I could move through everything and leave no trace, I blended in with everything. Later on, when I started writing for the college paper, I even went so far as to change my name (or attempt to). They wouldn’t let me. They told me that it had to be my ‘real name’ because it was college after all, and some other such jazz. People have also claimed to have seen me in two places at once. Hmmmm…
Anyway, I have been thinking about you quite a bit lately. You know that. You can’t ship out nearly a meg of email in a space of a few days, and plus irc quit a bit, and -not- think about the person.
SOO! Here is what I have come up with..
1. This all means nothing.
2. It means something, but I am taking it far too serious. You are in relationship jeopardy with your gf and I happen to come along and help fill those lonely nights (email wise). Not uncommon, happens a lot. You meet someone and think they are sweet.
3. Fuck it. I just re-read the letter I sent you the other day, that you haven’t responded to (if you ever will).
I won’t break down.
I won’t submit.
Not until you are free and clear.
Of everything. And even then it won’t be what you think it will be, IF it ever does occur.