January, 2002:

• 5:00pm – Relax
  
• 5:30pm – Clean
  
• 6:30pm – Eat
  
• 7:15pm – Clean
  
• 7:45pm – Get dressed
  
• 8:15pm – Leave for Joel’s
  
• 8:30pm – Leave for the Breeders
  
• 9:00pm – Meet up with Amy at Trees
  
• 11:00pm – See the Breeders
  
• 1:00am – Leave Trees
  
• 1:30am – Get home
  
• 2:00am – Sleep
  
• 5:30am – Wake up
  
• 6:00am – Actually wake up and get showered, dressed, and teeth brushed
  
• 7:00am – Stand by the door and wait for Sarah to knock
  
• 7:05am – Hug Sarah
  
• 7:06am – Kiss Sarah
  
• 7:07am – Hug Sarah again
  
• 7:08am – Kiss Sarah again
  
• 7:09am – Go back to bed
  

I need food. McDonald’s is calling. I’m leaving now.

I’m not going camping this weekend. Period.

As soon as my boss gets back from Lunch, I am going to ask for tomorrow off.

I have decided that Sarah doesn’t have a choice in the matter anymore. She is coming over tonight and not leaving until Saturday afternoon. Bring your school books.

I won the Lottery!

Um, no. I am so unlucky, in fact, that I didn’t even get a single number right. Additionally, simply because I played, my bad luck was spread throughout the state like a virus, and it even infected the lotto number selecting machine, and because of that…. no one won.

In more unlucky news, I will not have Cable Internet restored today as previously told. Joann from Verizon Entertainment called me very early this morning to inform me that she made a mistake and that a technician would need to be sent out in order to reconnect my service. The soonest possible date a technician can make it out here is Tuesday between 12pm and 4pm. Isn’t that nice? Hey Joel… can I borrow that modem now?

In even more unlucky news, my CD burner at work is busted. If I futz with it too much, I get excesive kernel messages (which slow my system to a crawl) screaming this:

Jan 31 09:19:39 djlpc kernel: SCSI host 0 abort (pid 1674) timed out – resetting
Jan 31 09:19:39 djlpc kernel: SCSI bus is being reset for host 0 channel 0.
Jan 31 09:19:39 djlpc kernel: scsi : aborting command due to timeout : pid 1674, scsi0, channel 0, id 1, lun 0 Prevent/Allow Medium Removal 00 00 00 01 00

And if I don’t mess with it, and just try to burn as I have ALWAYS been able to do I get this:

/usr/bin/cdrecord: Input/output error. read disk info: scsi sendcmd: no error
CDB: 51 00 00 00 00 00 00 00 04 00
status: 0×2 (CHECK CONDITION)
Sense Bytes: 70 00 03 00 00 00 00 06 00 00 00 00 02 00
Sense Key: 0×3 Medium Error, Segment 0
Sense Code: 0×02 Qual 0×00 (no seek complete) Fru 0×0
Sense flags: Blk 0 (not valid)
cmd finished after 150.079s timeout 240s
/usr/bin/cdrecord: Cannot get disk type.

Bah… I guess I need a new burner.

In additional unlucky news, I am considering cancelling on the camping trip this weekend. Mike is calling the State Park today to get the rest of the information we need, but secretly I am hoping they tell him they are closed for the season or something. I have been way too busy this past week to even consider being ready to leave for a camping trip Saturday morning at 10:00am. Not to mention that tonight and tomorrow night are completely booked solid, giving me no time then to prepare. Additionally, I forgot that the bottom zipper on my sleeping back is busted (won’t zip up) which is normally not a big deal. But in this cold weather I need it to zip. Otherwise all of my warmth will leak right out the bottom.

In even more unlucky news, my apartment is a mess, and I refuse to let Sarah come over unless it is clean. It is possible that she may come over tonight after the Breeders show, so that means I have to clean my apartment before I leave to make doors at 8:00pm.

I think I have some majorly bad Karma right now… but I really don’t know why I should. I kinda figured Karma and I had finally broke even, or that I was perhaps even a little on the positive side.

Gale is a pretty cool idea. It is basically like USENET in design, however, instead of transferring “news” messages it transfers “instant” messages in a totally secure and encrypted fashion. The only problem with it is that, like USENET, you have to be “in” to even use it. As far as USENET goes, most ISPs are very happy to supply you with a USENET server, and you are set. Unfortunately, gale servers are not in abundance, and those that are running them, aren’t offering “accounts” for free.

So… okay… no big deal, I’ll set up a gale server. Um, no. Gale is DNS based, which means you have to have working DNS in order to run a server. Okay… no big deal… I’ve got working DNS, and it just so happens (lucky for me) that my DNS server points my domain to a machine that can run a gale server. Great! Um… no. In order to run a server on a second level domain (i.e. “inkshop.org”) you must get your key signed by the top level domain (i.e. “org”) which is owned by a gale.org operator.

This is no big deal, except now I have to send a key in via email, and wait for authorization and key signing before I can continue. While I’m sure this model works now, and it isn’t a big deal to wait a day or two to get started, that is a lot of work just to try something out to see if you’ll like it. Additionally, if/when the user base expands, this will become out of hand.

They should at least set up a second “test” environment with a website that will automatically sign ANYTHING you send it… not worried about security… just with testing. That way, someone could have a test server running in minutes, as opposed to days.

I haven’t bothered to send a key in yet. I probably never will. And that is just sad, because it seems very cool.

Jaclyn is so lazy, she would rather have me drive 25 minutes to pick her up from work, and then drive 25 minutes home, when she could walk across the street and get her car, which is parked at Matt’s apartment.

Okay. So, I’m driving to Irving.

Well.. since I have had an over-abundance of luck lately (ha, ha, ha) I have decided to try my hand at the lottery (which I have only done twice before).

Here are my numbers:

13 14 22 28 32 41

Wish me luck. (ha, ha, ha)

After getting sick of my apartment complex’s maintenance staff not calling me back, and my Cable Internet provider not knowing jack shit about anything, I decided to break down and call the Great White Satan (Verizon Media), my Satellite TV provider. After speaking to them, things became a bit clearer. I was disconnected because my bill was a few days late. My bill is ALWAYS a few days late. None the less, okay, fine I deserve it. I asked if I owed them any money and she said “no, just the receiver”. I asked her how much it would cost to reconnect and she said “$50.” While $50 is moderately reasonable to charge to send a serviceman out to reconnect me, for the short amount of time I am going to be here, I decided it wasn’t worth my money, and told her thank you, and that I would bring the receiver to the leasing office tomorrow. Then I called BroadBand Now, knowing a little more about the situation, and hoping this could get my Internet service restored. They told me that without cable TV service, you CAN’T have Cable Internet service. So the crap they feed you on the TV commercials about not having to have “two phone lines” is bullshit, because you have to buy Cable TV instead. Why they couldn’t tell me my circuit was down on one of the 8,000,000 other calls I made to them, I don’t know. But… oh well. So I call Verizon back, and have my service reinstated. I pay the $50, and THEN I find out, that they can actually reconnect me from the office, and that the $50 they are charging me is… because they are bastards. Fine. Whatever. THEN I find out that the lady that does the reconnects went home early today, so I have to wait until tomorrow.

UGH!

I strive, everyday, to be more like my father. I strive to have what he has, to be respected as he is respected, and to know what he knows. My father loves my step-mother (whom I have known as “mom” since age 2). I see it in the way he talks to her, in the way that he kisses her, and in the way that he talks to me about her. My father is a VERY respected man. I have the luxury of working for the same company that he does. I hear his name constantly ringing from every corner of this company. They talk about how he knows his stuff, and about how he always gets the job done, and about how if you don’t have anywhere else to turn to, ask him… because chances are he can help you, or knows who can. My father volunteers his time every saturday at an Old Folks home… just because. My father is respected by my sister. He balances the “friend” and “father” statuses perfectly… being strict when it is needed, being concerned when it is needed, and telling an off-color joke when it is needed. My father is someone I come to when I have a problem. My father is someone I can talk to for hours and not get bored. My father is someone who I enjoy spending my spare time with. My father is a carpenter, and a computer programmer, and a science project builder. My father is a cook, and a cleaner, and a counsellor. My father is the man who counseled me after finding that I was knee deep in drugs and alcohol in a barn 40 miles from our home where I was caught (kinda) by the police and the owners of that barn and, instead of punishing me, says, “I think you’ve learned your lesson” because he knows I have. My father is the man that took me out drinking for my 21st birthday. My father is the only person who helps me EVERY time I move, without me having to ask. My friends like my father. My girlfriends like my father. My girlfriends’ parents like my father. My father has ambition, and motivation, and drive.

My father is everything I want to be. That is not to say I want to be EXACTLY like him or that I want to take the same path he has taken to get to where he is… but that he displays those traits and strengths that I sometimes only wish I could. There are very few men that I have met that can claim to be even half the man that my father is. I have the utmost respect and admiration for him.

Even the concept that he could possibly treat ANYONE the way my mother claims he treated her during their divorce and the months prior to it is UNACCEPTABLE. I am not saying those things didn’t happen. And I am not saying that her pain is not real or that her stories are not true. I am saying that I REFUSE to accept them.

I am buying Breeders tickets today. The show is tomorrow (January 31st) at Trees in Dallas. If you want a ticket, text page me by 12:00pm today, so I’ll know to buy you one. Joel, don’t bother text paging me… I’ve decided not to associate with your virus spreading ass.

I’m crying uncontrollably, and I don’t know why. I’m hoping that in some way, this will help.

I’ve got a lot on my mind lately. Thinking about friendships and lovers. The past and, more importantly, the future.

I’m doing all I can to NOT think about moving out. Having Jaclyn in Irving and me in Addison is going to make seeing her a less frequent event. Additionally, the fact that she has Matt so close by means the likelihood of us seeing one another decreases even more. I know I should be happy for her, and I am. Really, I am. But part of me is selfish. Part of me wants her always around as she has always been. I know that things change, and that this is generally for the best. But it is hard not to look at the past and see all the good times we have had together and not want that to continue just as it always has. Who else can I count on to tell me I look nice in my new shirt, or to wash my hair in the sink when I’m in a hurry, or to sniff my armpits and tell me if I stink? And who else is going to do “Hippo Face” for me when I’m sad, or truly understand when I say “I love you” or give me “Travel Tips” when I go away? I don’t know for sure, but there is a strong possibility that no one will EVER understand me like she does. Amanda did… a long, long time ago.

And Sarah. Sarah is wonderful. And Justin and Jaclyn help keep me in line when I start stressing out about something stupid. But I hardly get to see her. And when I do, most of the time, I don’t feel like I can be myself. Not because of her, but because of those people around us. Our relationship is still young, and still has a lot of growing to do. A lot of figuring out, and learning, and opening up, and letting loose. And those are good things. Those are the things that make me look forward to tomorrow, and make me hurt so deeply when I can’t see her. There is still a screen door between us, because neither one of us is ready to open it just yet, so everything isn’t crystal clear all the time. And while both of us are pushing the pointer to “Yes” on the Ouija board, I still feel a tug away every now and then. And I’m not sure who’s doing it: me, her, something else entirely. And that’s okay. That’s the way things are supposed to be, for now. I just wish that every time I felt that tug, I could ask “Was that you?” and expect a straight answer. But, either because I’m afraid, or she is unwilling to talk, I don’t ask, or she doesn’t answer. We’ll get there… or have a damn good time finding out that we’re not going to make it.

And my mom in New York with her stories about a father I have never known that are stuck on repeat. A father that would slap her in the face to wake her from pneumonia, or tap her phone calls with her lawyer. A father that would sleep with another woman while she was in the hospital giving birth to my brother. I don’t understand divorce, and I guess I never will. But I have a hard time believing that he could do the things she says he did. Especially when, after telling me such horrible stories, she tells me about how loving he used to be, and how good he used to take care of her. And how, during the divorce he got an apartment so that she could stay in the house. And how, after the divorce, he offered the house to her, but she told him to keep it, because she wanted my brother and I to have it. I have never known the horrible man she speaks of, and yet I see the good man she speaks of as often as I possibly can. And, while I won’t deny that it is possible, I can’t simply accept that someone as wonderful as my father would have EVER done anything like that.

And my mom in New York and her church. She so fanatically believes in her God and her Savior. I can accept that and I am very happy for her that she has this in her life. It is something to make the horrible nature of “now” seem worth it in the long run. But she firmly believes that my brother and I are miracle babies, given the circumstances of our births. And this means that she has high hopes for me, especially where her God is concerned. I can NEVER tell her that I don’t believe as she does. As a son, I already feel like I have let her down by not being there for her, and not living closer, and not being able to take care of her like she needs. Telling her that I don’t believe in the God that she loves and trusts with all of her soul would not only crush her, but make me that much more of a failure where she is concerned.

Last night, I went outside to smoke a cigarette. I sat on the tailgate of my truck and I let the wind blow through me. I let the world crash down around me as I sat there, awe struck at the awesome power of nature. And for a few short minutes, everything was peaceful, and quiet. The moon passed underneath some clouds and popped back up on the other side, as if playing a childish game of peek-a-boo to cheer me up. The trees waved their leaves in my face begging me to come out and play. And at that very moment in time, I knew where I was, and where I was going, and what I wanted. I knew what was right, and what was wrong. I knew what was true, and what really mattered in this world. And, if I had let the rebel in me speak his mind, I would have gotten in my truck and driven away. I would have stopped by Sarah’s place, and begged her to come with me, knowing she would say “no”. I would have said my goodbyes, and left this place without looking back. I would have driven farther than the roads can reach, and deeper than the caves extend. I would have gone to that last piece of land on this earth that has yet to be explored. I would have stuck my flag in the ground, pitched my tent and claimed it as my own. And I would have built a giant fire, and sat there all night thinking about all the wonderful things I left behind, and all the horrible things that couldn’t find me anymore. I don’t know if I would have decided it was worth it, but it wouldn’t matter. I didn’t though. Either I don’t have the balls, or there is something here worth staying for.

But now it’s time to straighten up, wash my face, and put on some clothes. I’ve got work to do, and a life to lead, and strength to show. Besides, when you talk so much, people start to realize that you’re not as strong or as tough as you lead people to believe.