Artemas

What a beautiful day.
I mean that.
Pollen everywhere and I actually don't really mind.
I feel like I'm on the verge of an epiphany.

So close.

You know what I want?
I just want to be happy.

If I had a magic wand, could I wave it and create the perfect job, car, body, apartment and bank account?
That sounds so fucking gay.
And overblown.  And pretentious.
I used to think that I wanted to be fair.
And sincere.
And nice.
What the fuck do you get by being nice?
Suffer in silence?  Being the 'bigger person'?
Why can't people, me included, just say what the fuck you mean.
It's branded into your upbringing from your parents.. 'be nice'.
That is so wrong.
I see the result of that in the ruins around me.
Spoiled, overeager, deluded into a semblance of reliance, short-sighted people.
I know I'm rambling.
I'm just frustrated by what I see.
And lack of sleep.
And lack of sex.

I have to admit, one thing that moved me recently.  In January, I went to Chicago to visit Mike C.'s wedding.
He is.. astoundingly attractive.  Stunningly.  Not only his looks, but he's so openly sincere.  I can't explain it without sounding like a huge flake, but his face holds such warmth.  Concern.  Like he's actually listening with a clear mind instead of pondering what he will say in response.  I love that.
During the wedding, he actually choked up during his vows while reciting them and looking at his bride.
I believe, that is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.
That's the closest to envy I've ever gotten.
During the reception, while I was saying goodbye, he took my hand in both of his and thanked me for coming and looked at me very solidly and asked if everything was okay.  
And I almost cried.
I'm actually a little uncomfortable talking about it.

During that trip, Opie met Michael, my Michael.
Opie told me he was .. surprised at his idealism.  His naivete.  He was impressed with his reserve, his intelligence, his communication of ideas and felt he was a gentleman.  And believe me, Opie calling someone a gentlemen.. well, you get the picture.
He was also surprised at how different he and I were, e.g. introvert and extrovert.
He actually called him timid.  And so I warned him, a wolf in among sheep is still a wolf, even if he's quiet.

My dad had a double bypass, he's fine.
My cousin Bridget is getting a divorce.
Bruce is living with some girl, apparently for the past year (yeah..), and we're no longer friends.
Opie moved to New Orleans.
Lost my ipod.  So pissed.
Probably going to have to buy a Shuffle.  
They don't make ipods that small anymore.

To finish, to let you know more about your narrarator, here is a random list:

Top five things I love about me
1.  My wit.  It's rapist like.
2.  My openmindedness.  Sure, I'll try it. 
3.  My wholehearteded loyalty.  To the death.
4.  My imagination.  Nothing is incomprehensible.
5.  My ruthlessness.  Suck it up to finish the goal.

 I'm home from the doctor's.
News is I don't have cancer.
But I do have what she calls "precancer".
If left alone, the cell abnormality will definitely turn into cancer.
Haven't spoken to anyone about it yet.

I'll be having surgery on this on November 19th.
Atleast this time they're drugging me.

Pretty gay.
She said she will have to be careful not to scrape my cervix too much or it will cause complications during pregnancy later.
Like a too weak cervix (enter FFXI joke here), or it may not expand at all during birth.

Fuck.

 Well.
This fucking pill is pretty annoying.
I just went to the Yaz-us.com site because I wanted to post the side effects, yet lo and behold they aren't there.
They list the benefits of it though.  Thanks, guys.
So I had to google it.  This is what I found:

sudden numbness or weakness, especially on one side of the body; 
sudden headache, confusion, pain behind the eyes, problems with vision, speech, or balance;
chest pain or heavy feeling, pain spreading to the arm or shoulder, nausea, sweating, general ill feeling;
a change in the pattern or severity of migraine headaches;
nausea, stomach pain, low fever, loss of appetite, dark urine, clay-colored stools, jaundice (yellowing of the skin or eyes);
a breast lump; or
symptoms of depression (sleep problems, weakness, mood changes).
mild nausea, vomiting, bloating, stomach cramps
breast pain, tenderness, or swelling;
freckles or darkening of facial skin, increased hair growth, or loss of scalp hair;
changes in weight or appetite, swelling of your hands or feet;
problems with contact lenses;
vaginal itching or discharge;
changes in your menstrual periods;
headache, nervousness, dizziness.

Holy shit.
I have to see my nurse tomorrow.
Maybe I shouldn't be on this.
I'm supposed to find out if I have cervical cancer tomorrow and a friend of mine told me good luck tonight and I was moved to tears by his words.
I feel like such a sissy.
I get into arguments all the time now, because I take stuff wrong.
And god know's I'm not getting any support.
Maybe this isn't worth this.
I'm not even getting any sex.

And really.
I went to James's little girl's birthday party Sunday.
Rachelle's daughter, was so.. adorable.
Turns two in January and was so angry looking.
She was so bossy and belligerant.  And I thought, if I had a daughter, she'd be like that.
Something clicked.
I don't even know how to explain it.
You know you hear the term biological clock, but I felt something maternal, almost sinister.
Unholy, if you will.
I know the thought of me producing offspring scares most people I know, since I'm so .. stern about things.
I tend to be so austere, not to mention recalcitrant.
Man, I hope I don't have cancer.
The doctor said, "It doesn't look like cancer.", but then she did some whispering to the nurse and I was in too much pain to yell at her.  I was just staring at the ceiling trying to control my breathing.
How the fuck do people say this didn't hurt?
Have you ever felt the blood drain out of your face?
It's like you're hit with cold air.
Makes me nauseaous to think about it.
On top of being nauseaous from that fucking pill.

If I have cancer, I won't have kids.
Crazy how stuff snowballs.
One month ago, I didn't want anything to spawn out of my body.
Now look at me.

The mammogram was uncomfortable.
My breasts were literally squeezed vertically and horizontally.  
Pasties were put on my nipples.
Making you hot, right?
=P

Mammograms suck.
Anyways, the ultrasound was better.  Gel was smothered across my breasts and I viewed the scans on the monitor.  Nothing out of the ordinary was detected, so the doctor thinks that 'lump' my nurse found was caused by bunched tissue before my period.
The female body is ... pretty bullshit.

Man oh man.

I found I have HPV, the low grade type, and that I have a lump in my left breast.
The mammogram is on Tuesday. 
I've been put on Yaz, which is a birth control pill but it will even out my insane menstrual cycles.
Six weeks is too much.
It's made me feel nauseous and a bit sensitive toward things.  Luckily, when I feel myself becoming emotional about something, I remind myself that "it's not a big deal".

I had another Pap today, which was pretty hideous.
I had to give up a urine sample which was standard.  
Afterward, I was led into a room and told to undress.  The doctor's first attempt at inserting the speculum was incorrect, so she had to do it again.  Then she found she was using the wrong size.  After I was opened like a carcass, she moved qtips around and warned me that I would feel a bit of a cramp from the biopsy.
A biopsy is when an incision is made to remove a tissue sample.
The pressure felt enormous.  
She took three samples and I could feel blood draining out of me.  I was very tense at this point.  How could I not be?  She told the nurse to get a tampon and I could feel her push it in through the speculum.  "Fire in the hole" rang through my head.
She cleaned me up and said the results would show in two weeks if I had cervical cancer, of which she didn't think I did because I appeared healthy.
They left, I got dressed and I went to check out.
As I was in line, I grew more and more agitated.  I couldn't stand still.  I'm not usually so fidgety.
The woman in front left and I stepped up, taking my Visa out.  The nurse behind the counter asked if I was alright and I said no.  I was nauseous, my vision was blurry, hazy.  I heard this very loud ringing in my ears and I swayed on my feet.  She brought her chair around, and I was questioned about my day.
I had worked through lunch to go to this appointment and never thought anything of it.
I couldn't stop shaking.
I have no idea what brought it on.
I didn't have intense fear or any fight of flight sensations that typically bring it on.  I wasn't terrirfied over anything.  I wasn't feeling a great deal of apprehension.  If anything, I was really annoyed with the woman in front of me.  Although I did think about the first and only other panic attack I had. 
The worst is that I could feel it coming.  Like a crescendo.  It's almost like I talked myself into it, but I really had to steel myself against it.  I just know the last thing I wanted to do was faint.
The nurses told me it's a very common effect after such a pap smear.  

After a few mins, I left, nodding my head when told I have to eat something right away.
I ate some cole slaw, in a daze, really, and fell asleep the moment I came home.

I don't think I'll ever forget this and I know I chronicle my life here in the most lax of schedules but this was an interesting experience.  
Humbling.

I'd be willing to bet I don't have breast cancer or cervical cancer.
But if I did, would I do anything different?
I don't know.  
Well, maybe.
There are things I'd like to do.
I'd like to visit The French Laundry.  I'd like to walk on a beach in winter.
I'd like to watch Roman Holiday again.  I'd like to put to paper that one storyline I've never shared.

Chemotherapy and radiation therapy and nuclear medicine all seem abhorrent to me.
I'm not inclined to it, and I believe I would pass those treatments up.

I'm not sure I'd tell anyone.
I don't think I could.
What kind of selfish burden is that?
I don't think I could bear seeing someone's behavior change to me.

The really worst part is the waiting.
The wondering.
The stupid little situations and scenarios that play out in your head at idle moments.
Waste of energy, of course.
Pretty shitty feeling sorry for myself.

Anyways, onward.
Work's been very boring.
I don't exactly dread going to work, but I see it as meaningless.  There's no real challenge to it anymore.
Relationships have been.. I don't know.  Hopeful?  
I don't think I give Michael enough credit.
And sometimes, I give him too much credit.
Hard to explain.
I just know I owe him an apology, and I'd rather do it in person.
I felt that when I would tell him about the HPV thing, he'd react differently.
He was actually very cool about it.  Cool as in mature and almost indifferent.  Dare I say, blase.  
I was the one freaking out and emotional.  Maybe it's the pills.  Maybe it's that ugly emo iota that never graduated high school.
Of which, my nurse told me was a 'normal reaction', but I was taking it hard.
I take everything hard.
So, I know he doesn't read this anymore.
But that's going to be the first thing I do when I see him.

I tried to sleep earlier, and fuck, I never meant to write this much.  It just seems to pour out when I sit here sometimes, which may explain my reluctance.
It's.. too much.

What a week.
I turned thirty.
No fireworks, no sex marathon, no bath in champagne.
I don't particularly feel older, but I don't feel wiser either.
I feel like I've wasted alot of time.
But, lamenting does nothing.

Opie and Bruce visited from NC.  It was nice.
We went to Atlanta.  The Lennox Square mall was very nice.  
Fell in love with a pair of shoes at Burberry.
One day.  Maybe.
I have an issue with buying a pair of shoes that costs more than my rent.
Seems obscene.
They're adding a Lush store so I know ahead of time where all of my money will be going to.  I can't complain too much since i know about it ahead of time, I guess.
Went to Emeril's of Atlanta.
What a glorious experience.
The site asks that the patrons wear 'business casual'.  So, of course everyone was turned out well except for Bruce.  But I have to admit.  He's beautiful in anything he wears.  It's really disgusting.
So we go in, we're seated. 
The Maître d' draped linen napkins over our laps nad first watiress presented us with leather bound menus, with linen paper on the inside.  Quite charming.
The ceiling had a chandelier made out of bottles of olive oil and to our right we had a large room walled by chilled wines.  We called it the Thunderdome.
Our drinks were brought.  Opie ordered a Nutty Martini.  Best mixed drink I ever had.  It had a marvelous smell and the taste was remarkably smooth.
A watiress brought by a bread filled basket with a container serving room temperature butter.  
I can't praise that butter enough.  I picked the walnut raisin bread which had an outside that could injure children, but the inside was soft and chewy.
We ordered our food and entrees.
We talked about the decor and observed the people around us.  
Our appetizers were brought.  They brought our soups in tiny saucepans that poured them table side into our bowls.  Mine and Will's gumbo was great.  Bruce ordered some sort of stew, which was alright.  Opie's chicken and livers over grits was amazing.  We didn't even know those were grits they were so smooth.  Creamy.  Think a really good mashed potato consistancy.
For our entrees, we ordered:  me/Opie NY ribeye, grilled and rare; Will pork shoulder with the bone which was really nice; Bruce salmon.
That was by far, the best steak I have ever had.  
Desert was a mixed drink called the New Orleans Nectar.
Again, another superlative.
Will ordered the same thing and Opie had fruit and ice cream.   Their desert menu had cigars on it. 
Our bill was 214.00.
We all laughed about it, and paid and left.
Once a year, it's not too bad.
We stayed at the Georgian Terrace Hotel which was lovely.
Around one AM, we went to the 24-hour diner which was right outside on Peachtree.  After getting our drinks/snacks, we leave and are accosted by a homeless man who was defending us from another homeless couple in a wheelchair.  We viewed two prostitutes argue over a car.  
"This isn't your corner bitch!"
Indeed.

They left two days later.

Work has been fine.  
I saw an interesting "documentary" type film named Zeitgeist.
This can be found on google video or youtube.  It goes over how God is actually a metaphor for sun worshipping and gives many similarities between Christianity and other religions with some good old fashioned paganism.
The second part shows theories on how/why 9.11 was an inside job.  The third part ties the first two chapters together with how the Federal Reserve Bank is run by a group of bankers who seek a One World Government.
Worth checking out if you have two hours to kill.
It's presented in an interesting manner.

There's alot I'd like to say right now, but I don't know how to say it.

So much to update.
I'll give the highlights.
In June, I flew to Chicago.
Michael is interesting.
He is a man I can talk to, I can laugh with, I sit in complete silence and I can't walk all over him.
I always half thought he would be so uptight, so slightly difficult but I couldn't have been more wrong. He was gracious, a good listener and almost open minded about things.
I thought he was beautiful.
The timbre of his voice and the sharp sounds of his vowels and soft consonants.. that's something I don't get tired of.
There's a certain look of delight his face takes on when he smiles, like he can't believe he is smiling.
Quite charming.
His apartment had no AC and although it wasn't quite as bad as one would expect, my period was on full-strength so to speak, so I was in constant terror of spotting/doing a Niagra Falls over things.
We walked around to alot of places; he's a fast walker whereas I am more of an ambler. I felt I was on vacation so I wanted to actually stroll and take in the sights.
I had bubble tea, which was great. I'd like some right now, actually.
I had Sea Urchin, which I can completely do without in this lifetime.
We parted on excellent terms, firm friends for life and the flight back was hellish.
American Airlines at O'Hare.. I loathe you.
At the end of June, I drove to Charlotte and met Bruce there and hung out at Don's apartment. Faith was lovely and unfortunately, my time with those two was cut short because Don got called out of town on busiess. He was kind enough to let Bruce and I stay there, which we did.
We didn't argue, if you can believe it and I took him shopping at Concord Mills and it was really wonderful.
I tried quail at a local restaurant and found it unremarkable other than this mention. I found a Teavana at the South Park Mall and have stocked up on White Lily Tea so I am content, if somewhat lacking now in funds.
I felt much closer to Bruce after this.
When we parted and he drove back to Fayetteville, he stayed on the phone with me almost his entire drive, both of us content with the patches of silence that come with complete companionable comfort.
He's coming here in two weeks and I am pleased as punch.

On Friday, August 3rd, there was a death of someone I never met, but would have loved. He was brilliant, generous and admired by all that were privleged enough to know him. I have very few regrets in my life, but I wish I had made more of an effort to know this man. So easy to do a phone call, an awkward one to be sure, but I think I could have made it happen.
Should have.

I wonder now, at the randomness of it, if I had pressed harder at him for a reconciliation of some sort, would it have changed anything?
The What-If Demons are the most cruel.

In Nicherin Buddhism, at the end of the prayers, at the end of the fifth prayer, there is specifically a prayer for the dead. One gives up best wishes for a good reincarnation, peace to wherever that soul may be. At every prayer, I recite for: my grandmother, my mother, Mel (Will's first stillborn sister) and Will's father. I will now add Tunji to this prayer, twice a day, for the rest of my life.

I heard through Michael's voice today, such heartbreak. I weep now, thinking of it. The rawness of the emotion I heard. Just hearing him cry made me cry on the phone with him.
His apology to me, so sincere it tumbled from his mouth when he had scolded me for being depressed about my mother three months ago. The recognition was terrible, his realization seemed humbling..I have no words.
I wish so much that I could have been there. Just to touch him, to let him know that I was listening. To touch his face and to enfold him, somehow. To hold his hand, give him my strength.
I feel so helpless here.

I know. The best I can do is be here for him when he calls.
And I will be.

What is it about weddings that makes one feel so .. something.

I attended one today.
It was between two beautiful people, so attractive together, they could model weddings, actually. It was in a Christian church, with singing and brotherhood and I smiled, stiffly at people, nodding to those I knew. It was so strange, seeing someone watch another person with such love in their gaze. Losing theirself, maybe, in that kind of absolution. I felt.. odd.
It was an interesting event, and there wasn't a dry eye in the entire church, except for me, probably. I could see dreams of their own weddings in the face of every girl in there. The couple sang a song they wrote together, titled "Marrying My Best Friend", and it was nice, him on the piano and her singing, staring at him through her veil. As Farisha walked by me, wedded, she yelled out my name laughing.
Her husband was resplendent.
I'm not going to prattle on and on about this.
I'm not really in the mood for any kind of self reflection.
But I wanted this noted.

Work has been a bit hazy.
I'm settling into a routine of sorts, and it's still challenging and I find it fun.
I want to be out of my department by November of this year.

I'm awaiting my second copy of Reaper's Gale to arrive. I forwarded my first copy to Urbana, because his got lost in the mail. Amazon sent it today, so I should have it very quickly. Ruin is now my third, after Karsa Orlong and Cotillion. Page 69, sigh.

I had some things I wanted to say earlier, but I've been interrupted. Fuckers.

Well.
Where to start.
Oh.

I hereby dedicate this entry to Kellanved, The Auspicious One, He Who Devours Time, The Lord of Inbetween, etc.

Anyways, onward.
To update my life of the past week and a half.

Last Wednesday, Opi3 and Bruce came down. They rented a Dodge Magnum and hijinks started right away.
First of all, Opi3 drives like he is racing time. And they ran out of gas in South Carolina. On the highway.
So luckily, Bruce has vehicle insurance through his cellular carrier, so they brought him half a tank of gas.
I'd run out of gas er'day. Three dollars a gallon here. Yikes, eh?
I called them while they were three hours away and Opi3 answered Bruce's phone. And he repeatedly said, "Can you hear me now?" in a parody of the Verizon commercials. After the sixth one I asked him if he was going to put Bruce on the phone or if I was going to have to call back. Opi3 said he was asleep. I asked if it was because he told him all of his hopes and dreams. Silence, then Opie said "I don't know how clear this reception is, but can you hear my spirit being crushed?"
My startled laughter seemed very loud in my office. I'm so fucking stiff at work.

So they arrive. They both look wonderful. Bruce looks so nice with his hair kind of shaggy. Opi3 looked healthier, by god. It felt so nice to hug them and to laugh with them. Right away, we all fell into our old routines and conversations, just like I never left. Opi3 and I were digging into sparse and uninteresting topics like life and such. But I did discover something. I thought I was idealistic and believed in "True Love". I think
I'm touching the ice berg on that, because Opi3 really does. When I say it, I think of soft moments and intimacy and comfort. When Opi3 talks about it, his eyes shine with zeal. With fervor. The same light that was in the gaze of officers of the Spanish Inquisition blazes in his eyes. But in hindsight perhaps he's consumed by the ideal of it. Which isn't happening.

Opi3 strongly disapproves of my eating habits. He tells me it's "not natural". I should be consuming cheese and eggs and ribs and cow bodies by the sides. My eyes are facing forward, I have canines for tearing and incisors for shredding, so obviously I'm a predator by design. So I told him that incest occurs in nature all the time, so was that natural? His expression was priceless when I said that him. Utterly flabberghasted. Then he went on about how it's my natural mutant ability (among many, he claims) when my argument fails to persuade by logic, I seek a "ridiculous parallel".
Totally false, of course.

He also claimed I have an extreme aversion to permanency. How did that arise? We went to Denny's for something to eat around midnight and he brought up how he can't wait until I have children. Which is horrifying. I've never had the maternal instinct. I told him I like buying new video cards every year. He said my priorities will change. I said, very well. I might start buying new monitors every year. Whichever.
So we argued about that. About how I don't know myself and my preferences will change in the next three years. I asked him if he will wake up tomorrow and never want dick again. He said no. So I did the same argument to him about how he doesn't kow himself and how his tastes will change. He informed me I was using a ridiculous parallel. I think he was hot keying that response.
But as we kept discussing he said the real reason I don't want children is because it would tie me down irreversibly. Which is true. And I feel something cringe within me when I think of it.
He wants kids.
He wants a partner and he wants to adopt.
I think he'd be a good father. He's understanding, supportive, fiercely loyal.
Well. Maybe not good. He does chronically procrastinate, his priorities are questionable and his health is often in a danger zone.
It's unlikely, in any case. He seems to think everytime he has a chance to be happy, he doesn't deserve it. He has major guilt issue from him being homosexual. His brother is a star athlete, but has the reading comprehension of a Coke can. Their mother spoils the shit out of him, catering in ways that are rarely seen outside of the Windsor Castle. So Opi3 feels guilt for that too. Not only for being gay, but being a shitty, gay, older brother.
I've never met his brother in all the years of our astounding friendship and he said it's because he's ashamed of his sibling.
I'm an only child. I can't imagine being anything other than grateful for having a sibling.
It doesn't matter in the long run.

We spent that Saturday in Atlanta. I told Opi3 that I wanted show him certain things. And he was skeptical because one, that is his nature, and two..I have a penchant for exaggeration. At times. Rarely, of course. >.>

I told him he wold love L'Thai and the IKEA store.
Bruce and Opi3 were not thrilled at the idea of visiting the IKEA store. A furniture store. I told them that they have complete setups and accommodations for apartments that are 230 square feet so that piqued their interest somewhat. Just for the disbelief factor.
We arrived at L'Thai for a late lunch. Extremely charming and superb service. Even Bruce couldn't complain. I ended up trying a bite of Opi3's dish and it was the best scallop I'd ever had. Ever. Smokey and simmering with luxurious layers of flavor that exploded over my tongue. That phrase "melts in the mouth"..I realized what that phrase meant.

We went to Perimeter Mall, which had valet parking. Pretty richie, actually. We went there for the Apple Store. Some of the monitors were sexy. Will, Bruce and Opi3 were entranced by that store. I wandered around a bit. There was a neat store there named Teavana, and I tried a white lily tea. Marvelous.
Opi3 ended up buying a pen, mini lightsabre and rubber ball, all which flashed a blue light. So glad I don't have epilepsy.

After that, we headed to the IKEA store. Well, we tried. We ended up being lost for about thirty minutes so when we arrived, we only had fifteen minutes to walk around. They fell in love with the store, like I bloody knew they would. It's way too engineered for one NOT to fall in love with it. How can this be, you ask? I'll take you one time.

After that, we toured the down town area, enjoyable since we are all fans of clever marketing. We stopped by The Varsity and all three of them are now fans of The Orange Dream, which is their signature drink.
Really shitty fries.

We saw Spiderman3 the next day. Not to lay out any spoilers, but emo Peter Parker is <3.
And if I were Mary Jane..well. Let's say that would be my last appearance, cause I wouldn't have taken that bullshit. And it is bullshit.
James Franco. Call me, baby. I don't like blondes, but for you, cause it's you...I'll make the exception.

They stayed an extra day.
And gone all too soon.

But, I welcomed going back to my old schedule. I've been skipping out on alot of stuff which isn't bad, per se, but I just personally dislike doing that.

I'm on a new work schedule and it's great so far. Even as I type this, I'm half dead at my desk because of exhaustion, but I will crash immediately after this. And read. I'm reading The Bonehunters.
Mr. Erikson, wherever you are. I hope you are healthy and will continue to expand the fantasy genre with such epic stories. Really wonderful, The Malazan Series.
Cotillion is still my favorite, of course.
I admire loyalty and cleverness the most among characteristics, and he has both in abundance.
Mr. Martin, you could take take some notes on that stringant work ethic since your book schedule is abysmal.

I can't stay up anymore.
Going to bed.

Good evening.
Of late, that's how all of my emails have begun.
At work, anyways.
I don't write social emails anymore.
I'm so sick of email by the time I get home, it's a wonder I even get on my PC.
Work has been splendid. Interesting, challenging and a bit annoying too.
My class had its graduation this Friday and it was interesting.
Come this Monday, I got about five hugs from people saying "I miss you!" and numerous emails. Kinda weird, really. I mean, we sit maybe ten office spaces away from each other. Hilarious if you think that I'm the most emotional/empathic of my friends, yet at work I'm "like a rock or something".
Actually Robie and Farisha (two lovely ladies) have dubbed that I have a split personality. They call my other personality "Divian", which is a play on my actual name. You see, I'm really nice, helpful and smile. Divian is sarcastic, violent (I've offered to stab Robie before, she was not appreciative), and never smiles, unless it is a wicket smile. Both are witty and funny and 'crazy'.

In the company magazine, where my picture was published, I appear serious. Farisha had asked me why Divian takes all the pictures. Nice, eh?
I just loathe smiling in pictures.
My eyes disappear. I'll show you one time.

Opie and Bruce are due here tomorrow. Which is wonderful. I miss them both terribly. I was on the phone with Opie earlier and I told him I wanted to take him to L'Thai, an organic Thai restaurant outside of Atlanta that I went to earlier this year. The food was orgasmic. Yes, I used the word orgasmic. He was good to go until I said the food was organic. He was about to go on about eating at hippie places and I offered to bring gravy in a ziploc bag that he could pour over his food. He laughed and agreed to go if he could bring ketchup. He's so appalling sometimes.
Goddamn Americans.

I finished Midnight Tides.
Man.
Great book. The only bad thing was that Cotillion did not make an appearance in the book.
I have so many questions though. I need to stalk Erikson or take him to dinner or something. I need answers. I'm reading Bonehunters right now and it just reiterates why Cotillion is so great. I mean, he has surpassed Toranaga from Shogun in blatant favortism. What a feat.

I need to stop fucking around on my Loma too. I have little over a month to prep for the exam in June. Eyes like armies, I say.
And I need to go to bed.

The drive home tonight was great.
Windows were down, music up and I could smell honeysuckles at fifty miles an hour.
That's the best part of Spring. The scent of honeysuckles
that permeates through everything, making one feel languid.

I was missing my mother earlier.
Well, I always miss her.
But it was poignant tonight. For the last few days, I've been seeing advertisements for Mother's Day, which is eminent and this woman in my class; she is getting married soon so I literally hear about her fiance and mother all day because she sits next to me and is loquacious as I am Asian.
I've been keeping it in the last two weeks and I was doing gongyo and saw her picture and my voice started to crack. And after that, I could barely finish, my eyes were streaming and at base I couldn't understand why.
I felt I had closure in January so this was surprising.
I had no control over my reaction and I sat at my desk for about five minutes wiping my face. Made me angry at how unreasonable the whole thing was.
I wanted to talk about it, talk it out of me, I'd feel better, I'm sure. Unequivocally, I turned to Michael, and without hesitation, he slapped me with reality.
Don't get me wrong.
I think, [i]eventually[/i], I will love him even more for it.
I believe I will always be able to turn to him during the length of our dealings, and receive his honest perspective on things. Raw without being crude, brutal without being vicious. Which is really a feat if one considers the balance between malice and sincerity.
A veracious soul indeed.
Which I will probably appreciate more at a later time.
After the wounds have healed.
On a completely different plane, I think he's lying about his age. He can't be twenty-three. Impossible.
Or he's the living avatar of anachronism.
One or the other.

I dislike our relationship.

Work has been stellar.
Had the final exam for my training course today, and I was the only one to receive a 100. So, I won a Get of Work Early Card. I will be cashing that in tomorrow night.
I think that's what maybe got me to thinking of my mother.
I pictured telling her, such a stupid little thing, and I could so easily see her face lighting up, her eyes crinkling at the corners and that soft smile that she had for just me.

Onward.

Mostly everything else has been great.
Bruce is coming down on May 2nd through May 7th and we will have fun. Well. For the first two days. Then we'll get on each other's nerves, lol.
Well. He'll get on my nerves.
But it's okay. I may even not lose my temper.

Two people I know are getting divorced.
Bobby and Don.
Sucks.
Apparently, Nee is a 'free spirit' and the marriage thing isn't working out. I don't know the details of that, but that is all Will mentioned.
Don's is simpler and more complex at the same time.
I won't type it out here.

I had lunch with Randall and Shane today. Randall is an older man I work with and is secretly bisexual, though more homosexual than bi, really. His eyes follow every able bodied man that passes and it's amusing to see because he always sees me laughing at him for it. He does this with the same intensity that tigers would watch tender piglets. Morsels. Shane is a younger man that Randall befriended and he seems nice enough.
Our conversation today was dominated by the fact that I don't ever want children (Shane is expecting, Randall's son is twenty and at UoA) and our religious differences.
I don't feel ready now, or ever, to give up my life for someone. I know if I ever whelped I would. I quite like getting a new video card every year or a new monitor and not having to put someone else first.
I like buying anything that pleases me.
Just not ready for that. Ever.
And it is selfish, of course. But I feel it's being responsible also. Since I'm not having sex.
And if I did, which I probably won't, I would take precautions.
Girls, maybe.

I kid.

I finished Midnight Tides. I won't say any spoilers here, but I will say it was very well-written and I enjoyed it very much. Especially Techol and Bugg.
And Silchas Ruin seems interesting. One thing about Erikson is that he makes some of the most kick ass names. Ruin. Anomander. Ammanas. Kellanved. Cotillion.
Cotillion is my favorite. I love saying his name. It rolls off my tongue with that residue that makes it so fun to say. I just said it four times, luxuriously and slowly.
But, good story telling.

This chick Cheryl made this heavy beaded necklace for me to put my work badge on, and this is her second one that she has surprised me with. I'm going try to find something to do in return.
Reciprocity is very important.
She plays Wow.

It's almost 8am. My eyes are swollen to hell. My nose is stuffed up. I feel like garbage.

Atleast soon, I'll be on a new work schedule. Thursday, Friday and Saturday 6am to 7pm.
Hot, eh?

Going to work on that thing for Cheryl or something.

Hi.

I read earlier that Kevin Federline and Britney Spears finalized their divorce. She is giving him 13M dollars, half of the proceeds from their home that she is selling, four days of custody per week plus 25k per child per month for child support.
I disagree with this.
Who the fuck is this guy? Did he contribute to her fortune? Hell no. He fucked her a couple times. That's it. No way in the world he should be getting that much as part of their break up. And what kids have to be raised on 25k a month? A month? Are you kidding me? I know some people that raise their kids on 25k a year. And a damn good job of it it too. 25k a month. Pulling my shit, I swear.

In cases of child support like that, the government should use them like funds for financial support or W.I.C.; put that money in a debit card and monitor where the money is going. And especially in this case, 13m? Those kids are his too. Why the hell does she have to 'support them'?

Such a fucking tragedy.

"Oh, but he put up with her shit too!"

Cry me a bloody river. That's what happens when you get married. You share. It's not an option anymore. When you get married, you agree to put up with that person's "shit" for as long as you both live. Fucking whiney ass bitches. Let's just give married people stress cards too so they can put their spouses on time-out. Such bullshit.
And pre-nups are bullshit too.
So is alimony except in cases where it is obvious that the spouse didn't want the other to contribute so there are no funds for he/she to fall back on.
"Accustomed lifestyle"? What the hell is that?

Anyways. Good night. Just had to write about that tardedness.

What a month.

Interesting month.
Overall, very good.

Some good and sad things happened.

The good:

1. Love my work.
2. Feel great.
3. Making bank.
4. Working on my relationship with my father.
5. Realized I don't have it that bad, actually.

The bad:

1. Feel even more jaded about certain things.
2. A friend of mine separated from his wife. Which, I note here, because I always
thought they had a 'good marriage'. And he divulged that it's been teetering for the last three years.
3. I think I tore something in my quadraceps. I've been limping for a week.

So interesting how one can look upon such journal entries and see the growth and inhibition first hand.

It's almost five am, I'm at my desk and I have my Ipod on.
I'll spill what's on my mind.

I got into an ugly fight with a friend earlier. Ugly to me, because I became so ensconced into it. It was a misunderstanding on him calling me a liar. That is the worst word in the language.
That one word brings to mind all the lies my mother told my father, all the lies she told me, every bullshit relationship I saw my friends go through, every lie Ken told me. Unreasonable? Perhaps. Understandable? Yes.
And I thought, in those few seconds, am I that?
It's what I imagine being pelted by shit would be like without the smell.
Immediately, I felt my face go red, and my heart began to speed up because I became so angry. The level of my anger was unjustified but I am aware that it is due to my contempt for such practices.

Is there anything more contemptible than a liar?

I remember Will showed me an article that revealed that this IP executive in Florida was married to his wife for two years before he told her the level of his wealth (in the millions). And she stayed. I would have left the lying bastard. If he lied about some money, what else did he lie about?

Anyways, to update.
My life is great.
Wonderful job that I take enjoyment in as of current. My final grade in the corporate training was very high, and I emailed the head teacher for my ethics grade last night. Which, I am curious about. The ethics grade is supposed to entail class participation, work ethic, respect, etc. I know I did well in every area, but when I wrote her evaluation, I was less than glowing. I was specific about the irony of that particular teacher showing us corporate professionalism yet using slang like 'crunk' and 'ooh wee' and 'go girl' and such drivel. Words like that have their place. But not at work. I specifically wrote that she should behave at all times as if my company's CEO was in the same room. My handwriting is very distinguished, not to mention my verbage, so I'm positive that she knew instantly who wrote that. She will gain my respect in that aspect if her evaluation of me is unbiased because I am prepared to drag this out if I feel she is unfair.
We'll see.

I now have six weeks of Job Specific Training and today was the first day. It was interesting. I like order and rules, so I feel I will do well when I am finished. My current trainer seems easy going and we built some rapport today. The class morale was high, even though we are in an unfamiliar environment and there was alot of information to learn today. I have high hopes for all of us.

Before I left for the evening, my trainer pulled me aside and said she was looking forward to the next six weeks because I was 'so intelligent' and there are few people on 'her level'. Which, of course, is flattering, but I have my suspicions about the psychocological aspect of telling a student that. The what you want to hear, syndrome, so I will keep my eye on her. It is interesting to see if she is using such tactics with her students because this will give me an idea about the other trainers of the company.
She is personable and charismatic though, so it is hard to dislike her.

My classmates are an interesting group. Quite a bit of variety and I think I've made three possible friends. Maybe four. Apparently I'm the person to come to for advice because during my breaks for the last two weeks, I've listened and given my opinion on dream chasing, how to tell a husband no, how to eat better, how to dump a man, how to get a man, how to deal with stress and more. It is a good sign I am so approachable atleast.

I missed working. I missed some semblance of a routine. I don't feel listless so much anymore. I'm beginning to feel ambitious again. Competitive. I missed dressing so nicely, too, lol.
A friend mentioned I got this job only for an excuse to go shoe shopping.. well, I must admit, I have bought some really nice shoes lately<3.

I've been doing gongyo. I've been drinking water and I've been working out regularly. I feel stress is under control and I also missed that muscle ache. That tenderness. I can feel it on my sides and it's wonderful.

I miss my friends. I miss Bruce. I miss Opie. I miss going out every Friday night and staying up all night shooting pool and watching movies and playing games. I left a voicemail with Opie today, actually. One of my classmates is a bisexual male (you know how people tell me their business) and I think he and Opie could be friends. But then again, Opie can be anyone's friend. He's so laid back except where his love life is concerned. Same as myself, I suppose.

I saw the movie 300 over the weekend. Nice film. The plot was simple but the imagery was fantastic. I find it humorous that Iran is pissed off about how Persians were portrayed in the movie. I don't suppose they realize it's based on a graphic novel? Way to look for historical accuracy from a comic book. That's where I would look to get all of my facts.

Don't people realize all they do is give credence to stereotypes when they act retarded? I know like I have to talk; instead of blood I have coins in my veins, my parents had a store, I'm possessive of my partner and I hold a grudge like a seraphim guarding the Gates of Eden.

I started my period again, last night, so I think I'm back to being 'regular'. Very pleased. I had been reading on ovarian cancer and uterian cancer but have just been too chicken shit to go to the doctor. I'm positive I wouldn't tell anyone if I did have something crazy like that. I wouldn't agree to unnatural treatment either. I would buy a ton of insurance though, for my family/loved ones. Unseemly amounts.

There was a new species of leopard discovered in Borneo (think Malaysian archipelago), the Borneo Clouded Leopard. It is absolutely gorgeous. The smallest of the big cat family with the largest teeth and jaws, it hunts by ambushing prey from the trees. It's a ninja. So amazing how there are still new species that spring up (there were also two new tree frogs discovered in the same area), we just have to notice them. It's currently endangered and fucktards are still killing it for the magnificent pelt. Don't those dicks realize that once a species is gone, it's really fucking gone? Why would one want to exterminate a whole gene pool from the planet? I have nothing against hunting for food or needs. But for sport or strictly for the pelts (with the exception of pelt farms), where the hell is the sport in that? You're chasing an animal with a high powered rifle or shot gun or laying down a trap for it where it can wander in unknowingly? That has got to be the epitome of cowardice. If you're a real sportsman, make it fair. If you take down a deer with your bare hands, hey, respsect. Wrestled a bear or a tiger and made it yield and lived to tell the tale? Amazing. But you're just a pussy if you do with from fifty yards away and feel good about it.

I've read that there are still areas of Africa and Asia that are unexplored. I can go online, make a phone call, watch a movie and send a podcast all while taking a bath, or even in my car, yet there are still places that have never been seen by Man. Utterly fascinating. Makes me feel inspired to put on a khaki shirt, pick up a fedora and whip and start calling Danny "Short Round".

Mmm, OK. Going to go do something else than. Been sitting here too long and I still have things I need to do. Good night!

What is it about chocolate that makes me feel so gummy?
I finally found a chocolate that doesn't have milk in it, a bit difficult for Georgia since every fucking American loves milk chocolate.
It's a dark chocolate and I eat it and I feel languorous, totally inert. I just close my eyes and feel it melt in my mouth and I know I'm going to regret it come morning since I am allergic to it.

I applied at Aflac and had a good interview. I took the drug test Tuesday morning, so I should hear something later today. If I don't take their offer, I think I'm going to look into banking. Maybe.
Something with money. I like money.

My father decided to let go of some of the land we have on 87. He said it was too painful to keep. That really, really sucks.

The most stupid holiday is descending upon us, Valentine's Day. What a bullshit holiday. Nice marketing, I give it that, but such bullshit.
"Oh look, a day where you're obligated to be nice to your spouse instead of everyday! Now go spend some hard earned money on some frivolous flowers that will die in two days and some chocolates that will make her break out so she won't resent you since all of her girlfriends got similar tasteless trinkets from their boyfriends!"

I say this. Yet I'm going to bow to it. I'm such a pussy.

Beginning day five of my fast.
Feel pretty good.
I wish I could drink more water but I just don't seem to be able to. I'm sleeping great. Seven, eight hours a night, fitful with a minimum of crazy dreams, lol.

To sum up some of the weirder ones this week:

I dreamnt I got Nashira Seraweels, followed by dancing.
I dreamnt I got pinned to a bed by a sword.
I dreamnt I was going down on a guy and every time I touched him, he would squirm and cringe because I was being too rough with him.
I dreamnt I was being chased by zombies on four wheelers. I had a shot gun.

That's all I can recall for the moment, but I'm sure it just slides deeper and deeper into B-movie territory.

Sludging through House of Chains. Wish I had more time to read it. Seems great. Wish my Midnight Tides would arrive.

I was watching Onk-Bak earlier. Totally forgot what a hard body Tony Jaa is. Took him four years to make that movie. Crazy.

Bleh. Need to finish tea then hit the sack.
99~

Long time no see.
Been busy.
On this health kick too.

To give a brief summary of what's happened..

Trying actively to sell that '87 land.
Trying to keep my father from driving me crazy.
Going to restart being vegan again, currently fasting to detox before I go back.
Sending out the resume.
Am generally alright with most things.

Things that bugged me, things that would upset me and I would obsess over, not really getting to me. Letting go of alot. Easier on my nerves and stress and generally just not worth it.

I am appreciative of many things in my life.
The best, supportive family and friends are with me.

Right at this moment, I have a headache, no doubt due to this being day two of my fast. I haven't been hungry at all, but awfully thirsty.
I admit, my thoughts are scattered because I am focusing on other things at the moment, which I shouldn't since I'm typing here, but it is necessary.

Well. Headache is gone, actually. But generally uncomfortable due to that weird, full feeling.
One thing, I can't seem to get warm. So damn cold.

Oh, headache's back.
Fickle, fickle body.

Uber late entry. I know.
Well.
My mother's funeral was on January 5th, 2007.
I was very angry about this.
As far as I was concerned, I had closure.
I didn't want to dredge this up again, and I didn't want to put my father through it.
Rough day for me when I got up.
I slept badly.
Had a fucked dream that involved me getting tied up on a bed of my presumed apartment and I think I was getting raped? I couldn't feel anything. The guy did bite or lick my face and that's when I woke up. Bruce said I woke up screaming. I did this twice.

Will and I met some of my family at the funeral home to see about the flower arrangements.
I got into an argument with Bruce; he told me that he had nothing to wear to the funeral.
And I took it as him trying got cry off on attending.
I say this, because I know what's in his closet.
So, of course, I blew up at him and told him not to come.
We soon left and went back to Bruce's apartment.
Bruce, thankfully, knows how retarded I am.
So he didn't take what I said to heart; he just explained how he has changed physically from when he bought those suits so they do not fit him anymore. Which, actually, I find hard to believe. So he wore this black polo shirt and tan dockers and complained to me several times he was so shabby.

I was taken aback by my Aunt's request that we film the funeral. To me, you film and capture those wildly happy moments. Weddings, parties, births. There will never, ever be a time that I will sit back and want to pop in the DVD of my mother's funeral. I told her to do it if she wanted, but I will not ever want a copy.

We arrived ten minutes late. I met my family. Quite a beautiful bunch, I must say.
Everyone looking quite dapper.
Members from the Korean Association came.
I met the preacher, who was also Korean and spoke no English beyond: "Hi."
I've never been prayed over so much.
I was very polite, if distant to everyone, including my family.
The flowers were pretty, purple and yellow. Yellow because it was her favorite color and purple to match the lilacs and lavender that no one had but requested so there were tons of irises. Cause that's really close to lilac and lavender.
The sermon was in Korean. Which is probably best. The fucking organists's cell phone went off in the middle of it. This is why I don't own my own country. Because I would have executed her on the spot with my keys. There was quite a bit of singing. In English, which was very low, followed by Korean which sounded like West Side Story.
We filed out after and bid thanks to the attendants.
We agreed to meet later, the family.

That night, we met for dinner and we laughed and talked and I think our bill was around two hundred dollars. There was so much food, I think the table was groaning.
It was: my father, Aunt Gee, Uncle Greg, Bridget (their daughter), Nami (cousin), Andy (her son), Will, Liesbeth (Will's mother), and Sue Park (family friend), plus myself.
Met back at my father's house and took some pictures and kissed everyone good bye.
Hung out with friends the rest of the time.

Saw The Departed. Great movie.
Bruce gave me a belated Christmas gift, all five seasons of 24 on DVD. Very good series.
I didn't see Opie at all. He was ill with his usual sickness.

I got back to Georgia Sunday night.
Overall. I'm glad for the funeral. I feel real closure now, instead of what I was telling myself.
It's okay.
Going to look for a job.
I need something to do.
And I think, I want to look for a house.

So unhealthy right now, just due to stress.
My back is constantly killing me.
My father put me on his life insurance. So I have that to look forward to.

Looking over this gym next to the apartment.
Such a shitty last thirty days.

My new year's resolutions:

Go back to being completely vegan.
Go back to drinking 64oz. of water per day.
Yoga times three a week.
Gongyo atleast once a day.
Eight hours of sleep a night.
Two thousand words per week.
Learn Perl.
Actually rename and reorganize my .mp3 collection.

This is of course, subject to editing in the future.

<3.

Going to bed soon.
I have to do a couple things, finish packing and drive to NC.
I do not look forward to it and I am protesting the entire way.

I miss sex in my life.
Not sure which I miss more, the intimacy of it or the sheer physical release of it.. good sex that is.
Not that sex where you after you're finished, you lie sitting there contemplating the easiest way to break up.
Not that I've had alot of sex, mind you.
I really haven't.
By even a nun's standards, however, what I've gotten, I've relished.
That fleeting hour, maybe of utter contentment and I admit, ego-tripping. Mad skillz, lol.
No, but seriously, I'm okay.
I think the best thing I can bring to the bed is that I'm willing to try almost anything that doesn't involve body waste, animals or food.
Tying up, sure. Sexy.
Blindfolded? Oh, yeah, nice.
Toys? As long as it doesn't leave permanent marks, OK!
Whipping? Pretty hot. Surprised?
I did find a satisfaction in marking a partner of mine. His skin was on the fair side, so it would show vividly. He loved it. And of course, I asked him to try it on me. I could not do such a thing to my partner if I didn't know what it would feel like. Safety first, right?
There is an initial sting. Then a rush of warmth. A deep langour that comes from the bones. Then another one.
In moderation, it's quite nice. I was surpised that my body liked it so much. I was more than ready after the leather was put away.

I miss little details. Biting on his fingers. Licking the collarbone. Tasting myself on him. Those little furtive touches that lead to bigger things. Wet whisperings. Sigh.

The reason my thoughts are so carnal tonight is because of shared thoughts on the matter that entered into my usual conversations with Michael tonight. As always, he was recpetive to most things I said, although we did have a disagreement between us about 'alone time'. In hindsight, the whole conversation was absurd and funny. But perhaps if he reads this, he will understand more. Like right now, he is away from me. Not only in the tangible sense, which is constant, but also in the physical sense. I cannot communicate with him and I would not at this moment anyways. Why? Well, of course, foremost, he is sleeping. However, I am writing this, and while I write these, these usually consume my entire attention. I like to keep my thoughts unbroken. As delusional as they are sometimes. Basically, this is giving me time to miss him. To appreciate him more when I do speak with him. I could have said this earlier to him, but I admit, he rocked me a bit when he said that online conversations don't amount to much. Mixed signals from that man.
I didn't make an issue of it earlier because I suppose I'm in the "I'm glad he's home," phase. Which I expect will drop the first time he calls me nubby. :)

So, I was making that cd earlier to listen to on the drive, and I remembered that song by The Cranberries. Dreaming My Dreams. Such an ethereal song; if gossamer had a sound, it would be this song. These are the lyrics:


All the things you said to me today,
Change my perspective in every way.
These things count to mean so much to me,
Into my faith, you and your baby.

It's out there. It's out there.
It's out there. If you want me I'll be here.
[X2]

I'll be dreaming my dreams with you.
I'll be dreaming my dreams with you.
And there's no other place,
That I'd lay down my face.
I'll be dreaming my dreams with you.

It's out there. It's out there.
It's out there. If you want me I'll be here...
[X2]

I'll be dreaming my dreams with you.
I'll be dreaming my dreams with you.
And there's no other place,
That I'd lay down my face.
I'll be dreaming my dreams with you.

Dreaming my dreams with you.
I'll be dreaming my dreams with you.
And there's no other place,
That I'd lay down my face.
I'll be dreaming my dreams with you.


**

Isn't that beautiful? Her voice is light, wispy, dreamy. It has a lovely lilt to it, a twang on the vowels that comes from her Irish accent.
Why has this song not been in a movie? In the soft romantic comedy with an edge of drama (dying illness, maybe of a sibling, not main character), and with this song in the background, our hero and heroine will reconcile and there will be no words spoken. Just this song and you will be able to see their realization, their love. It would shine. Their expressions would speak volumes of depth and emotion that words would just cheapen. I'm talking Oscars here, people.
Man, I'm such a fag.

I finished Memories of Ice, by Ericksen. And, Mr. Ericksen, I have some problems with you. Why, man? Why?
Goddamn you.
Best part of, the siege and Gruntle.
Worst part? "Damn, damn, oh damn!"
Yeah. That happens.

I'm ploughing through another cookie jar book by Mr. Ericksen titled House of Chains, which, I'm looking very forward to. The title alone is tantalizing from what I've read so far, and I am eager to see what has happened to the characters from Deadhouse Gates. An interesting notion that he does is write books in the series that aren't on the same chronological order. For exampe, Book One occurs first, Book two and Book four follow immediately.
Book three is on an entirely different schedule some months behind the first book.
It is confusing, but in a way it makes sense since this involves massive areas and literally a cast of hundreds it seems. Information would be slow to travel, even with their best methods, which involves magic, which in turn has been drawn to a stalemate with the events that have so far occurred.

One constant character has been this deity, basically, named Anomander Rake. Rake is powerful, ruthless, ancient, beautiful, wise..etc, all that and a bag of chips. Arrogant doesn't even begin to cover it, but he has a deep honor which makes him bearable. The only thing I dislike about this character so far, is that he isn't flawed. Characters tend to be likable, relatable, interesting by their flaws. Not their strengths. Since I'm only on Book four, I won't make too harsh of a judgement on Rake, however, I'd like to see some sort of weakness.
It doesn't have to be kryptonite. But something.

Okay. I've ranted enough, I suppose.
Angst, angst, angst.

I will drive safe.

Hi.
I tried to go to bed around three AM this morning but I only moved about restlessly until I finally gave up and came out to my desk.
I'm not still sleepy but I am even more tired than ever.
Kinda sucks.
I have an assload of laundry to do and I still have to find something to wear to the memorial service.
Either all black which is the American tradition, or all white, which is the Korean tradition.

I have this enormous tension in my head, right along my jaw, to the point where it hurts when I brush my hair. Extremely tedious.
All from stress, I'm sure. I haven't felt like exercising much though I did go for walk on Saturday. I came across three dogs that growled at me until I veered off that street. Then those little bastards followed me for a block.
I only took my knife, which wouldn't do me very good versus three dogs. Wish I could find my mace.
The mace I have, Marvin Lee picked out for me when I told him about that other big dog in my old neighborhood. The one that Bruce rescued me from. Let me tell you, it's not easy walking at a steady gait with a dog that comes to your thighs growling and stalking you. I know this seems hypcritical that I would often let my own dog Blossom out without a leash, but I kept an eye on her. Blossom also weighed three pounds and was way too timid to chase anything that didn't enter the house. She went out, did her business and came back in. These other little shits are just running amok like gunslingers on their street.

I haven't packed yet for my trip, and I've no idea how long I'm going to stay. Taking for sure: ipod, Nintendo DS, House of Chains book, cell phone.
And some clothes, I guess. Not sure where I'm going to stay.
Most of my family that is coming is holed up in a hotel on the base there since they are all either military or retired military.

I don't want to go.
I feel like I'm through with my grieving. I'm not ready to one hundred percent move on, but I will in time. I'm aware this is a natural process. Of course, it's shaken my faith in things. But I also know that is to be natural, initially. I had some nausea earlier and I couldn't help but think about when I had it while my mother was dying. So morbid, but I can't help it. That will tie in to that for the rest of my life.
I'm not ready to watch her friends and family that I see once every "huge event" cry and offer me sympathy. The more I see it, the more I'm around it, the more I know I'll curtail what I'm feeling.
So emo.

I need to update my DS flash card. I need to make some sort of music cd for the drive since I'm tired of the current ones and I must refuse the bounty of Christian Talk Radio that will be offered through Georgia (with the exceptions of Atlanta and Augusta) and South Carolina.

I would like some tea. :(

Too cold to go make some. I'm huddled in this chair listening to the most annoying music feasible by the human ear.

My father sold their store. At a loss. Well, not really a loss, but time was his main factor, not the money. So he is happy about that, and now he has nothing binding to him there. I speak with him frequently and he seems better.
As well as he can be.

Bruce has been seeking a house and I am impressed by his foresight on such things. Which really shouldn't surprise me since he is such a great planner, but poor executor. Michael got back to his apartment, only a day late, and all is well in his world.

Going to get some stuff done, then.
Not sure when the next update will be; I'm aware they tend to be sporadic.
Will do my best.