Trials of Chastity

Yonphi · Nov 13, 2004

Groove With Me

Stage 1: The Deception

Shorty, it turns out, doesn't really have a job. Jumping from temp job to temp job does not suggest the kind of stability I would need for an honorable roommate. I learned because we were ready to put down the money today and all of a sudden, "oops, I don't have any money."

To all those who thought I was doing this only because I had a crush on her, please note that I would have overlooked this had I really been interested. "Things have a way of working out," I would have likely said. It's a little sad, though. I was eager in getting the hell out of here. Not because it's necessarily bad, it's just bad for the ego to think about living in your parent's home.

Stage 2: The Groove

Given that my plans have changed, I'd been given a challenge from Groovy Girl. After installing Windows 2000, the challenge is to get some old software that was designed in Windows 3.0 to run. No, the titles weren't on http://ntcompatible.com/ . The Bochs solution seemed to be the only one to save the day, but some trickery lead to a very compatible solution beyond the "compatibility tab". Hooray.

But that wasn't all that seemed to happen. When NPP left I was ready to install a bunch of updates and he told her to do what I said. She goes, "if he tells me to strip, I strip." He closed the door behind himself and the first thing I told her was to strip and she grabbed her shirt, counted to three, and he opened the door again. She didn't actually, but it was a fun little thing.

But it really set the mood for the rest of the night. Filled with hypothetical situations that would be interesting to be walked in upon, each one outdoing the rest. Using her leg for a mouse pad. Lack of chairs being compensated by sitting on my lap. Falling on top of me in some kind of "terrible" accident. Each one reenacted. This is the stuff that, you know, stuff is made from.

Eventually she showed me her collection of dildos and lamented about how much she ends up using them because NPP doesn't give her enough. I felt badly for her. I gave her hugs when she sighed and complained that every time she wants some she has to fight with him to get it. We spent time hugging and cuddling as I let her spill the dirt over how dissatisfied her sex life is. Before I realized it I we were rubbing each other's backs and listening to each other's breathing. She told me that he never does that with her: never just stay close and touch and stroke. I was caressing her and all that. She confessed she wasn't wearing underwear and kind of thrust herself forward. Warm, despite kind-of fully clothed.

She said she longed for something spontaneous, and I just licked her neck lightly. She didn't say anything, just breathed a little differently. When I stopped, she said indicated that no one has to know. I continued to lick and kiss lightly. We joked about how that's even more conspicuous if someone were to walk in and she got up to lock the door. I allowed her to undo some of my shirt buttons and was starting to lift her shirt and...

and...

AND...

Stage 3: The Alternate Universe

It's familiar territory. The mate of some other man's. Pushing herself against me, prompting me to do the sorts of things that people in my position do. I made moves, too. A series of slow-babystep gambles. But this time something happened. The congress of my head was arguing heatedly. Sure, if I heard a dozen or so voices in my head I'd be a psycho. But since there's somewhere around 127 it's ok, right? If a bell curve was a graph of insanity versus number of voices you hear, I'd be after the hump, right?

"I'm being an asshole, aren't I?" I finally said out loud. "You've got a boyfriend."
"One that leaves me deprived."

And I thought of why she is still with him, despite how she is left begging for it, how she came back to him despite NPP's "let's see other people" when he wanted to become legit with one of the Other Girls. I remembered how the last time they were fighting and she was seeing advice from me and a favor of trying to get her changed boyfriend back to the way he was when she met him, and I expressed concern to him and he said "ah, she'll come back. She always comes back."

I've never been so conflicted before, not so much about myself, but about someone else. I want so much to show her that she can have better. That she doesn't have to masturbate in the darkness under the disdain of the the one who is supposed to be with her. I don't know if she really believes it. But I said something to her.

"But you love him."

She hugged me tightly, standing in place, topless, short nails digging into my back. Her breathing was short and stutterred. I stroked her hair and rubbed her back. I whispered to her to be strong. She sobbed how hard it was. I told her it had to be difficult if it is to mean anything.

Stage 4: The Review

So, as you may have surmised, we didn't. I'm convinced we could have. Part of the "vulnerable positions" bit we were sculpting on our own included some dry humping. I felt precum oozing while thrust her hips against me to make "sauce for thanksgiving turkey." She at one point in time that evening whispered how she's in a heat cycle, and how she felt badly for me that I've never had sex without a condom, saying she'd have to fix that. Minutes before she was ready to get me to make her feel better, and then she was sobbing into my shoulder. Had I not stopped and not mentioned she loves him, it's likely that I would have... you know.

And at that point, it was nice. She stroked my shoulder and some weird scar I've got that I don't know from what or when it hails. She touched my chest hair and traced the shape. I felt wanted. Given the vast percentage of time of my life in which I don't feel wanted, it's always brand new in a sort of "nah, really?" kind of way.

With Play it never was quite so nice. But I did it so differently. I didn't question her husband's existance, I was just glad to grab whatever I could. Like flailing arms along a cliffside that I am falling alongside of. Somehow my sexual energy had been tempered, still there, still as potent as it ought to be, but with more of a harmony with my personal code of ethics. THAT felt nice, too.

BUT the congress was very close. A 49% minority wanted to seize the opportunity. It's been FAR TOO LONG since I've had any kind of fun, and I really really (really) wanted it. The justification was there. "This would be the moment to show her what a guy who WANTS her would be like," a chancellor from that minority claimed. I didn't stop because I was afraid of changing our relationship. I stopped because she was taken. I express guilt over being an accessory to Play's cheating, and somehow I feel as though my gesture to stop is the pennance paid for my actions.

After more encouraging words and more hugging and crying, it was time to leave. Not to be one to burn my bridges, I told her that, if it doesn't work out with her and NPP, she should look me up. She smiled. I told her that it's her job to live, and not to owe anyone fealty for "saving her life" when it was she who walked the path that was pointed to her. That comment was in contrast to her blogger where she said that NPP "saved her life" because she was so filled of angst and hopelessness.

She appologized for taking advantage of me. I pulled her close again, hugged, and said that I make no demands, and asked if she liked these three hours. She said yes, and I told her that's what matterred.

Before I walked out, I told her to call me anytime she felt lonely: we won't make a habit of that but I am her friend and I don't want her to despair. Interesting, how similar that despair is to my own, which is probably why I feel this way.

I kissed her softly, and touched her lips with my finger where I did. And left.

Stage 5: The Future

This afternoon we were supposed to meet. I was going to help her crack a few games she's got because she hates having to grab CDs every time she wants to play. I beeped her this morning, and didn't get an answer. NPP called me, and said that she wasn't feeling well. I thought that was a little weird, but she didn't respond to my beep so I figured that was why. He didn't mention anything to me out of the ordinary, nor did I mention anything that happened.

I wonder if she's really not feeling well or if it was something I had done. Or not done. I know I did the ethical thing (on my table of ethics), but I'm not sure if I did the correct thing. I told her I was going to drive home wishing I did, and she said she was going to lay awake in bed wishing she did, too. Then again, I wonder if she's sad that she knows it has to end with NPP so that she can get someone better (disclaimer: not necessarily me, although all evidence points to it) and is beginning the heartbreak of losing her first love.

I did what I felt was best at the time. Only a future self can tell me, with the gift of hindsight, the impact of what I did. Or didn't do.

Yonphi · Nov 14, 2004

In Case You Didn't Know-

-I'm a fucktard.

Really.

No, really.

Being myself rarely pays off.

While I do what I feel is the best at the given time, it's always wrong. My judgement for that which resides in the present is shocking in its abject negation of all that is right.

One of my more whimsical sayings, a new one since three days ago, is: "If you deserve something, and you're destined to get it, you will, despite your best efforts."

There's a love/hate relationship with online chat I've got. I hate jumping on a chat network blindly and hoping I'd find someone. It seems so passive. I like making an effort to communicate with people, when the drive to make such an effort exists.

But online chat has it's nuances that encourage rudeness that people wouldn't do in real life. If you are trying to avoid someone, and you walk into a room and they are in it, you say to yourself "shit" and you deal with it. However, in chat, you walk into a room (go online), see the person you're avoiding (see Yonphi's real-life chat pseudonym as online on your list), and don't think twice about becoming invisible or just leaving the room. And lets face it, if you could become invisible in real life, you would never do it in front of someone you are trying to avoid.

It's rare that I log in and stay logged in if someone I want to talk with isn't there. Groovy Girl is someone I've been doing it for this weekend.

I can only sigh and mope. I feel sad. I need reassurance that I didn't "break" anything between us, and I'm being avoided. But, I did break something or else I wouldn't be avoided. Shit, if I was going to do uncorrectable harm I should have taken complete advantage while the takin' is good. Such is the "gift" of hindsight. I gotta say I'm wondering a little less about why guys do the things they do that make women hate that they take advantage of them. Because here today gone tomorrow, and sometimes you get in so deep that it's more a hassle to turn around than to just keep going.

Things would be so much easier if I hated the world and plotted it's destruction. I would be struck dead by the anti-terrorism wing of the SWAT team and it'd be done. Me versus them, all the way to the end.

Why do I have to like her? Why do I have to want her?

Didn't I promise myself around after the Two-Fiddy I'd stop falling for people in advance of a relationship? It's interesting how this story had developed. I do something to break barriers of a friendship and it backfires and I end up losing a friend.

I'm a fucktard.

Hooray for what-the-fuck-is-new-today.

Yonphi · Nov 15, 2004

This is why I can't have nice things.

NPP knows. That wasn't long at all. At least he isn't violent about it. Unlike someone else who knows a secret that they shouldn't know.

Not yet, at least.

He doesn't want to talk to me either, evidently. I don't blame him, but it DOES smack of hypocrisy with all his exploits with Other Girl.

What's that? Oh, yeah. That's different. In that case it was him for-real cheating on his girlfriend, not his girlfriend almost-cheating on him. Of course.

I just know what when I was 18, and I was sad that I was infatuated with a girl who didn't even like me back when I expressed myself, I didn't have anyone to hug me and reassure me that I have power, that good things will come to me. Instead I just had myself. My anger mixed with despair in some kind of lament-flavored cocktail (with a twist of bitter).

Wasn't this sort of thing supposed to get less awkward? A few months ago I figured I was armed with at least some experience to fare a little better in this world.

I'm convinced I don't belong here. Not spacially, but temporally. I belong in a different era. Maybe I'm perfectly normal and just misplaced. Then again, maybe I'm still strange and awkward at any time. The wrong time and I'd be speared and put on a spit.

I did gain a little insight into what I like about Groovy so much. That she reminds me of myself. Insecure, clinging onto a fantasy (the idea that NPP will someday respect her and love her back), believing she is unattractive, feeling worthless. Not because I want to exploit such things, but because, together, we might have been able to claw our way out our self-imposed prisons. We'd learn from each other, and we could grow.

But I do know that, when I was that age, I would have loved to have an older woman cradle my face in her hands and look at me the way I looked at that teary eyed face. Also, in every dream I have with the winged angel, she always does that. She cradles my tearful face in her hands and looks at me with such confidence that I'll be alright that I believe it without words. That image is in my memory folio forever burned. But even though she is confident, I don't believe her. I don't believe I'll be alright. To be fair, however, I havn't had the dream in a while.

I always say that I want to create something beautiful and destroy something beautiful. I've destroyed way too much over the years: this is why I can't have nice things. Because I just break them.

Yonphi · Nov 19, 2004

Lub-a-dub

When I feel shitty, I shy away from everything. I call it "cat mode", but I'm sure cats are more sociable. I become irrationally fearful that everything I touch will turn to shit, so I avoid touching anything if possible. Sure, it's times like these when we turn to friends. But I don't even want to do that.

I'm afraid I'll speak The Word of Chthala, the chaotic yet not quite frightening enough, younger brother of Chthulu. The result would be that whoever is friends with me will suddenly stop. They won't go mad for all time, they'd just be permanently mad at me for all time.

But, for some reason, this time I didn't. I actively persued NPP and Groovy. What's going on? Is she torn between two men? (Unlikely, and, if yes, even less unlikely I'd be one of them.) Is this another guy who is out to kill me? (If Time Crisis is any critera, I'm clearly a better shot.) I had to know the dish.

And, for a first, I actually told people. Coworkers know. Christian Fundamentalist called me an Adulterer. I had to correct him as I am only an accessory to adultery. Big difference.

But we met. All together, and then separately. So I will branch out now.

NPP:
The main focus is on how he didn't seem mad at me. So, yes, he must have recalled his Other Girl experience and how I decided, ultimately, not to tell Groovy. I don't know if that makes me a jerk, but at the time that was going on I had pledged non-involvement, and when I decided Groovy was fair game such a decision can't be retroactive. Being honorable works both for and against me. But I met with Groovy after him, and I could have brought it up. I didn't, though. Hanging point A.

We spoke and he was looking forward to clearing the table and putting this behind us. I'm suspicious, but, hey, what the hell. Traps are fun.

I did tell her I had feelings for her, though. Bad move? Likely. But he didn't seem disturbed by it. I asked him a very question that has become very important to me. And you can guess what that question is by his answer. "I more than just love her, I'm in love with her."

The way she spoke that night about how she doubted that he cared.

Of course, he could just be saying that. And the fact that he wants to let bygones be bygones could be a case of "keep your friends close and your enemies closer." And he most certainly won't tell me about any other Other Girls lest I get any funny ideas. And the fact that he wanted me to go and speak with Groovy alone was a gesture of trust on his part, but a far too deliberate gesture if you ask me.

Don't you love my level of trust?

Groovy:
When he took me to see her, it felt a little like Heart of Darkness. She didn't make a whole lot of eye contact with me. She admited that she felt like a horrible monster. She said she won't forgive herself anytime soon. She did the unthinkable. She'd never let anyone touch her like I did other than NPP, and felt even guiltier upon that guilt because it felt good and she wanted more. I told her it would have been worse and it was a good thing that at least one of us stopped it before it was too late.

I reassured her that I cared for her, which is why I was so eager to open up the communication channels again. And I hated the fact that she felt so guilty. I think it's because NPP isn't a total raving upset lunatic at her so she feels she needs to pay the price. I know the feeling. Groovy and I are a lot alike.

I made her say she wasn't going to beat herself up over it. All I could say is that how badly she felt should be reminder enough regarding ever cheating again. And I felt a bit sad with that. But she wouldn't be such a self-sacrificing person for NPP if she didn't really love him. And since he stuck by her, cradled her, comforted her instead of scolded her, I think if he didn't love her before he does now. And that made me feel slightly better.

Only slightly.

Well, I wanted to save her and I feel that she's a bit more saved than a week ago. The end does not justify the means, but that's ok. And I didn't get what I really wanted out of it, but that's ok, too. The issue feels resolved. I'm looking forward to resuming a close friendship, in a slightly different gear ratio, clearly, but not diminished at all.

The best part of the whole night, by far, is when she was suggesting to me that she was worthless. I didn't hug her like I did that night, but I did hold her hand and said she wasn't. I told her she was a wonderful person and the proof is in the fact that her boyfriend is still with her, even after this. Then I smiled, and said, simply, "and I'm single, which should say a lot."

Nothing quite like self-inflicted wounds to settle a score, huh?

When the meeting was over and I left the two of them, they gave each other the sweetest kiss I'd ever seen them give each other. It made me feel empty.

There was a sketch from The State I remember in which a guy was trying to pick up a girl and she didn't respond, and his friend recommended he wear pants (cue the zoom out which showed he was wearing a nice shirt and shoes and socks and underwear and that's it). They went to a department store and he learned what pants were and how to wear them in some kind of musical demonstration. Later, the character picked up the same girl who complemented him on his pants. And his friend said to the camera, "that's great for him, but I'm still alone." The department store clerk walks up to the friend and told him he should follow his own advice: cue the zoon out which showed he was wearing a sweater with no pants and male-stripper underwear. The music cued again, and that was the end of the skit.

So I feel really happy for Groovy, but I'm still alone. And I'm out of prospects. What's next? I don't know.

They say people can't truely visualize a world in which they don't exist: the ego won't allow your imagination to go that way. But I try to visualize my future love life, and I just don't see anything. I don't see anything good or bad. I just see... emptiness.

*kicks an empty soda can down a flight of concrete steps*

Yonphi · Nov 28, 2004

Monocle

I've never been so detached and distant before. Ever. I've been really bad this week. I wish I knew what I could do to fix this (forget what's wrong, I don't care anymore I just want it fixed).

I've never spent so much time solid of gaming. It's been nonstop since Wednesday evening to tonight. And not even particularly good ones. Am I the only one not afraid to say Metal Gear Solid 3 isn't particularly fun? They should stop making those games and just start making 8 hour movies about them instead. Advance Wars 2 has come a long way since Gameboy Wars, and is considerably easier to play in an English translation instead of the Japanese original. Rez was a nice 45 minutes, which turned into 90 minutes to ride it again. I got dizzy playing home DDR cheating (that is, with the controller instead of a dance pad). And not just playing.

I've never drank as much as I did. Complete liquor raid. I don't know why. I don't routinely drink, nor do I tend to get drunk to any extent. What people say, though, is absolutely the stone truth. You forget your problems. You forget that you're alone, you forget you don't feel motivated to do anything, you forget that Xenosaga is boring as balls but for some reason I keep playing it. It didn't matter that Groovy went to a romantic weekend away with NPP and thanked me for stirring up the water so the scum that floated on top would dissolve (That "huh?" sound was exactly what my brain made). All that mattered was beating a boss and then laying back and watching the room spin.

I've never been more insulted before. I spent a week planning a nice Thanksgiving. My turkey is superior to my mother's. My mashed potatoes are amazing and it's surprising that I still remember them without having made myself a batch in forever. It took me a week to gather all the spices I needed. I try to get the smallest containers possible as I can't store them the way they ought to be stored. So I had to go and get them again, and they weren't exactly supermarket brand spices. Had to travel to a few hippie-organic stores to get them. But it's not something to whine about, I wanted to do it. I don't do anything for my family ever and I've taken a custom to doing it for them as a sign that I care. And like TerryJ (but with considerably less finesse) my mother got to thinking a deep fried turkey would be a good deal. All of a sudden my work was overwhelmed by the excitement of dipping things in hot oil. Forget the brine, just inject goop into it. Fine fine, I decide to play nice and go along with it. But every suggestion I make is tossed out the window like I'm some kind of dumbass. The results? Overcooked by 15 minutes (because my suggestion of 45 minutes "can't possibly be right"). They tried to make a spice bomb of a dry rub and all the flavors were mixed and fighting for attention instead of a nicely blended symphony that I was suggesting. I felt like doing my own little turkey in combat and do an Iron Chef style scene, but when my mother just outright said I "don't know anything" I told them I don't belong anywhere in preparing anything this year.

I've never been so insulted, either. I was mentioning to my brother that I found it surprising how much more power the new generation of games have extracted from the same old PS2 and he said I don't understand it because I'm a crappy programmer. What? This weekend was not one to play around with me about anything I do, well or not. Furthermore, he's got absolutely NO background on anything I've ever done. It was a baseless claim just to pick a fight and I don't approve of it espectially when I was praising others.

I've never been so elusive. I've dodged three phone calls, two emails, and one text message. I don't feel good about it. I should have picked up, replied, and called. But I didn't because... because... well, I just don't know. I'm just down.

I've never been so disappointed in myself. For about 11 months I've been in secret training for something. Back when sex was a real and tangible occurance in my life, I wanted to do better, if you catch my drift. So I tried hard to really get to a point where I'd be able to, you know, together with her. (Funny, I don't recall being so shy in my journal before... it's likely because I havn't shaken off the self-shame that is my being and existance.) But this morning I realized I've made zero progress. Actually, I've been realizing it for a while but been trying to ignore it. I've been worried that I'm not built for sex and I'll never get to a point where someone would crave my bedside manner, and I just finally allowed the conclusion that I'm right. It's a good thing what happened that night with Groovy didn't get that far or else she would have found out.

I've never been so distorted on my view of myself. I put on one of my favorite shirts (one of the ones I rarely wear) and it was tight. I came to the conclusion that I'm just gaining weight like it's a hobby. I know why: I can't do low carb for two days straight and then have a "normal" meal to decompress. It only works for loss and maintenance if you keep steady and don't introduce spikes into your diet. I know this. But I ignored it. I've been too emotional to care about that. But aside from the uncomfortable feeling of a shirt that's too tight, I look in the mirror and I look the same. I wonder if I have the opposite of anorexia, where I think I look normal no matter what?

I've never been so clueless as to what the next step is. I don't know where I'm going anymore. I'm just staying put and it bothers me. I'm in a personal-development and intra-personal relationship development standstill. I want more, and I'm going to continue to want more and more until I'm happy. There is no stopping me from going on this path, not even the goal itself, because it seems to be impossible to reach.

Well... I never.

Yonphi · Nov 30, 2004

Where is my E! True Hollywood Story?

"Everyone who has a job doing what they love please step forward."
*step*
"Nuh uh uhhh~~~, not so fast there alter-ego."
What do you mean? Oh. Right.

I used to complain about my job all the time. Then I got this work and it was considerably less. Then I was admitted to the development inner circle and the complaints stopped. It wasn't game programming, but it was something that I enjoyed doing. Producing, fixing, applying logic and harmony in code to the problem at hand. In fact, once I was handed a porn web site project I figured I had arrived. I was even thinking about asking for a raise.

Wrong-o buck-o.

In a true example of negativity attracting negativity, the only thing that was really going well in my life was my work and I've been downsized. Or at least that's what I've been told. (My trust abilities and spidey-sense tell me something else is afoot.) I did revisit at least a few projects I worked on and didn't find any changes to my code so I don't believe the problem was performance. Speed? My speed is pretty good given the fact that I'm often handed code written mostly without documentation, produced without proper software engineering concepts (because bugs are reduced and existing code is easier to manage that way), and the point was getting rid of bugs and adding requested enhancements that were more difficult than they had to be because the original code was written lazily (I can tell). Not to mention serving as backup for the old tech support disaster that is the device I serviced. Yeah, I was still doing that, and I was still having to defend the fact that the engineers for the device suck.

But that's not the only thing that sucks. I have no notice. Today I got word and today is last day. I am beyond words how completely unprofessional that is. If you're running your business so that giving someone two weeks worth of notice and paying for those two weeks is the difference between being put out of business and staying afloat, then you are doing a shitty job at running a business. Anyone who would quit at a moment's notice is an asshole (so long as it isn't due to abuse, emergency, death, disability, etc.). I've got a college degree: I'm a fucking professional.

I also know my income. I'm not going to enter a committment with someone (as in a loan or hiring an employee) if I can't see far enough to know whether or not I can afford it. That's irresponsible budgeting.

And these definitely count as negatives for my experience. On the long drive home I decided I will consider writing a whistle-blower style book on the "Biz-Op" that the device I provided tech support for... after all, that company is currently under FTC investigation and I'm sure there will be some interest in that.

But somehow I don't feel like killing. I don't feel like becoming a justice fighter. This is the part of my E! True Hollywood Story where they would say "he lost it all: no love, no home of his own, no job." and then follow up with "he turned to drugs and alcohol to ease the pain," except for the fact that I don't intend to. I guess that's why I'm not a celebrity. Suddenly my other negative feelings don't feel so important. I left myself a safety net so I can pay my bills for at least a few months, but I shouldn't HAVE to live off my savings after this bullshit way of being cut. Now that being penniless is in the potential future all my other problems seem to take a backseat. How can I whine about not getting laid if I don't have a nice big bed to get laid in? I like having my troubles put in perspective, but I'm sure there was another way to do me that favor, huh?

But I am absolutely thankful for a few things. Absolutely thankful for the patience my parents have with me and my moods and allowing me to stay making no demands of me (I had been paying electricity and internet for a while). Rediculously thankful that now I know I'm good enough to get the job done and I know I will be hired again. Cosmically thankful that I didn't move in with Shorty... that would have been embarassing, me worried about her job stability when, in fact, it is I who evidently is unstable. Tremendously thankful I didn't do my Christmas shopping yet this year because I was planning on being extremely generous with all those who have stuck by me for the year.

Observation: I can get a bag of 16 doughnuts from the local bakery outlet store (less than 5 minutes away from me) for like $2. That will keep my breakfast needs covered for about a little more than a week. A typical single meal on my no-carb-by-god-I'll-be-taking-down-Max-300-in-no-time diet is around $6. Sugar, white flour, hydrogenated oils = cheap. Proteins and lipids and vitamins and minerals = expensive. Hell, cup-o'-noodles is 12 for $2. Can't afford to be healthy? No longer having health insurance? I hope I can keep saying "at least I have my health" for longer than a few months.

The end to this, again, if the True Hollywood Story is any guide, is either death after a binge in a hotel room with a racketball in my mouth, or I rise above to be stronger than ever before.

But right now I'm thirsty.

Yonphi · Dec 8, 2004

Havn't Felt Like It

And I quote Nature: "You can't be sad and play [DDR]."

Oh yes you can. I felt really really down this weekend. The weekend had no meaning for me... I don't work Saturday and Sunday just like I didn't work Wednesday, Thursday, or Friday. I had enough of my rut and I went, pretty much picking myself by the scruff of the neck. Plus I needed some kind of physical activity, and I happened to have a bushel of tokens.

To the outsider, playing DDR is just a lot of moving around and jumping like an idiot, so why pay tokens and stand in front of a machine to do that when you can do so in the privacy of your own home? Well, when you're not into it, that feeling is the same. Missing a lot, no kind of musical sense, avoiding songs that remind you of things you're trying to forget. Nothing too happy because you're really not happy. My heart wasn't in it. I went there, ho-hummed on a few things, and just left. I look around at people I didn't feel like talking to at that time. And watching everyone paired off into couples made me feel like an ogre, and not the good kind.

I dumped the last five tokens into the video poker machine and hit a full house and got about 45 tokens cashed out. Two interpretations: this is the only good luck I'll have for quite some time, or it wanted me to stay there and spend those tokens to continue to make exasterbate my down feelings. I left in a pathetic humph.

I spent my time sending out resumes and I've gotten a few phone calls to clarify my work experience as I gloss over requirements I don't have, but nothing promising. Although it's a lot better than the last job search, where I never so much as got an interested phone call. The rest of the time is spent hacking my PS2 and jumping on this GBA dev kit and playing pretty much anything I pull out of the two dozen boxes still left packed from when I was going to move out with Shorty (and they were left packed because, soon enough I'd be out of here, or so I thought).

Today I had an extra monitor I needed to get rid of so I went to somewhere I knew a bunch of people to give one away. You guessed it. And my heart still wasn't into it. I didn't really want to talk. I stood at Beatmania for at least an hour pumping tokens. Again I tried to get rid of my token reserves in video poker and then hit another few good hands and filled my coffer again. I saw Shorty there, and we didn't say much. We don't have business to talk about, and the sudden way I kind of called it all off left a sour taste in her mouth, I'd bet. Turns out she just moved into a place with someone else, closer to where she wanted to live than where I would have made her. A female roommate. Good for her.

One thing we did, though, that I havn't done in ages, is play Magic. I played a little sloppily, but it was ok since it wasn't tournament level play anyway. And her rules need work (LOTS of work... I feel like a jerk trying to argue rules with other people, but I can't help that I know them really well and, in the past, have been able to predict rulings documented in http://www.crystalkeep.com/ ... so I layed down on many rules violations). But it was damned fun. We spent about three hours playing non-stop.

And it helped. It didn't matter nobody wants me, neither as a lover nor employee. I was playing the role of a Planeswalker whose only objective was to banish my opponent. I doesn't matter what I look like or what I believe or what I'm attracted to since all I could do was trust in my deck. We laughed with neat moves and fun combos, cursed at lucky top-decking and ignoring creatures in play.

I really need to have a good time with someone. I havn't in far too long. And I did.

Am I going to be ok? I don't know. I'll tell you later. Presumably if I'm better I'll feel like posting more.

Yonphi · Dec 16, 2004

Development

So what does one do with two weeks?

It's been some time for professional development. Of the jobs applied, I did get a call back just to clarify (re: expose) my qualifications (re: lack of one). But it's a lot better and faster than it was before. So I'm upbeat. Not upbeat upbeat, but more upbeat than I was the last time I was looking for work.

In the meantime, researching Coldfusion and Fortran and diving through my old computer teacher's books he gave me looking for inspiration is fun. And it's been keeping me away from the devil of EverQuest. I know if I was bored enough I'd say to myself, "hey, I spend more than $12 a month on food to feed my face, I could easily sign up again and resume the adventures of my super cool Necromancer." Please kill me before I do, though.

It's really been a weird financial state I'm in, though. I'm in "I can't afford anything anything anything" mode. So it kills me to spend anything. I ran out of stamps to send in my bills and I was all in a huff today to actually BUY stamps. STAMPS! 37 cents each. And a few days ago I nearly threw a fit because someone thought they saw an empty bottle of mustard in the fridge and threw it away, but it had a good two tablespoons left in it.

But it's good to be in uber-stingy mode. It keeps things in check. My Christmas list has been moved to a "just because gift" list as it's unlikely I'll get steady income before then. And that's no fun.

But as my brain seeks to flex itself, it's my other brain that's kind of sour at me. One primary reason why I have nothing to write about here is that I have nothing to write about here. Aside from the misadventures of Groovy Girl, (although I was really proud of that title "Groove With Me"... not the best post ever but clearly the best title ever, because I just love noun/verb confusion and doubly so in such a compact line), there's been no additional prospects anywhere.

It makes sense, though, that, much like employment, I can't expect prospects to appear. I have to generate them. Now that I've got time, a wonderful option I was reminded of (after being reprimanded) was continuing education.

Rules:
1. NOBODY TAKEN FER CHRISSAKES. Yeesh. First time was because I'd take what I can get. Second time was poor judgement and inappropriate affection. Lets not make a third time, shall we? As far as I'm concerned, if there is a third time, I'd be branded for the rest of my days, rightly so.
2. 18 or older. This shouldn't be a problem unless I take a Pokemon class.
3. Um... someone who wouldn't mind Mr Unemployed me? Nah, I won't be unemployed forever. And the connections made could be lasting, right?

I just gotta be suave. Suave?

Suave?!

...

suave.

If I havn't expressed my affection for Sega, please let this reaffirm it. Why can't they have dev jobs in the states?

Yonphi · Dec 21, 2004

Development My Way

Writers write. That's what they do. Some are fortunate enough to get paid to do it, some don't. But they do it.

Classes are expensive. I'm not sure if my squirrel-hoarding-sparce-nuts mentality will allow me to do that. I know Home Depot offers free workshops, but that defeats the social angle of the little project.

BUT I've always told myself I never find the time to do what I do. There's only so much time one can spend sending resumes to job openings that I am completely 100% positive I can do a bang-up job on, but I can't prove it on paper.

I've started working on some parts of my dreams. I'm going to stop theorizing and thinking about it and just finally put some digital ink on paper and get my space shooter made. If I'm fast enough, maybe I'll be able to get it sold to a distributor on the last wave of Game Boy Advance titles that will be coming out in a few quarters. That'd be so cool!

And it's much more lucrative than my other idea of making a CD-I emulator, considering the Green Book specification still costs $150 from Phillips. Humbug.

Some people contribute to society in times like these. I'm just a bad selfish person I guess.

Of course, I can't give myself a 100% unpaid job. I still need work and badly. Working at my last place was less than 6 months, so it doesn't count towards unemployment even though I was laid off. And my prior job? I left voluntarily. I don't think I qualify for any of that. At least (portions) of my tax dollar go to people who deserve it (while a lot gets funnelled into the La-Li-Lu-Le-Lo, but that's neither here nor there). Oh well.

I did get some income today. I got TEN BUX!

("Yeah! Oh yeah. Who's your daddy? I like that one, and that big one, and, oooh! Yeah.... hell yeah.")

With Half.com demanding I put my bank account information in there, I had to withdraw my balance in paper form. I liked Half because I got paid in checks. I don't trust my bank account information anywhere online (and I'm a computer professional, that should tell you something about my confidence in the system... the technology is there and it works, but the people behind it, on the other hand...). Even though crooks wouldn't stand to make hundreds of dollars. I sold stuff on ebay before, but I end up just getting paid in Paypal, which gets used to buy more crap.

What?

Don't look at me in that tone of voice.

That's right, no girls. No complaining about my non-existant love life either. Being excited over getting a check for ten dollars, feeling guilty about asking my parents take me along for a Christmas trip even though I can't pay my way, and wondering if it's worse to make gifts out of sticks and glue, pass out IOUs, or if I should go ahead and spend and take one of the millions of credit card applications I havn't yet gotten around to shredding and take advantage of that 0% interest balance transfer for 6 months thing if word isn't out yet that I've got no income. Got tighter issues than feeling something tight.

Yonphi · Jan 1, 2005

Resolutions

This year, I resolve to:

<strike>Be The Desired Male that women secretly want</strike>
Way too lofty.
<strike>Find a wonderful nerdy and slutty girlfriend</strike>
Asking too much.
<strike>Go to a party and pick someone up</strike>
Ummm...
<strike>Go to a party and have someone be glad they met me</strike>
Ummmmmm...
<strike>Be invited to a party</strike>
Hold it.
<strike>Be invited to a party where someone can be interested in me</strike>
Asking too much, the redux.
<strike>Attend an artsy class</strike>
*inspect*
<strike>Attend an artsy class that doesn't cost money</strike>
Yeah, that happens.
<strike>Change someone's life</strike>
Ummm...
<strike>Change someone's life for the better</strike>
Getting warmer...
<strike>Change someone's life for the better through me just bring myself</strike>
An assumption is made.
<strike>Be a happier more positively impactful human</strike>
And learn to perform ritual sacrifice to make miracles happen.

Plat has lots of cool single friends. They say what you are thinking and feeling will carry over into the new year as it ticks over. I don't want to think about what I was thinking and feeling as it ticked over. It's been a long time since I've been rejected, not because I'm anything special, it's just that I havn't taken any risks.

Fuck tradition. I make my own luck, right? I'll get a job in no time, working for a less non-professional big company and have fuel for the fire of living. And with the "at least I've got a good job to go to on Monday" ego-parachute-phrase on tap I can withstand lots. Hopefully. Fingers crossed.

Be myself and don't resolve to anything that you cannot direcly influence.

Yonphi · Jan 11, 2005

License to Thrill

One thing I always found interesting about the whole James Bond thing was this "License to Kill" business. A member of Her Majesties Secret Service, he's licensed to kill. Licensed? Is there an exam? Expiration date? Renewal fees? Where can I get one of those? Has he ever been arrested because he's killed someone and put in the interrogation room with Good Cop and Bad Cop when all of a sudden the sarg comes in waving his wallet saying "Oh, it's all right, fellas. He's got a license for that strangulation."
"Ohhhhh... well, you have our appologies Mr. Bond. Please don't kill us all in retaliation, which you could do so per your license."
"Well, I don't know about that gentlemen," he'd say with a schmile. "Talk to me about your daughters."

Things I've learned so far.

1. Recruiters like calling me. I'm nice to talk to. Yet, somewhere between me saying "sounds good" and the next day, something goes awry. Further contact is forwarded to voice mail hell. It must be because, right now, I belong here. Either that or I am no longer in the favor of The Fates.
2. My mom's cat is the coolest. She and I have been getting along lots. She'll look at me and I'll figure out she wants to just strut around the block and I'll follow her. She likes the History Channel. When she's ready to use the facilities she'll walk on over to the sliding door and look at me to say "yo, dude, I can't reach." She's so well behaved, it's too bad she only gets to be inside while my mom isn't home.
3. Speaking of which, I've discovered a bit of the moving around constantly as a kid. My parents were on the search for their dream home. A place they can love to be. Something with potential to change when they want it. Out of the way enough to be seen as an oasis. Good for them. My father wasn't much of a talkative guy about it. I feel he would have been happy anywhere and made consessions for his wife.
4. Holding a $2 bag of donuts in front of the woman who gave birth to me has given me free reign to do the completely subsidized grocery shopping. I have been complemented on a lot of the cooking so far. The secret? I don't know. Dumb luck?
5. Rejected self-employment ideas included: Professional Gambler (I do NOT have any kind of poker face), Escape Artist (I can break out of a wet paper bag but that's about it), Bank Robber (again, no poker face, so you know when I threaten to shoot the first bastard that "makes a fucking move" I'm bluffing), Male Prostitute (in Economics you know how the pricing curve dips as demand approaches 0), Everquest Power Leveler (I was never really good at power leveling anyway).

And I was going to post here tonight saying I didn't have anything thrilling in my life and wouldn't it be interesting if I were clever all the time.

Yonphi · Jan 12, 2005

Luck and its Irrelevance

In keeping with a neat idea:

January: They say that "Hell hath no fury like a woman's scorn."
February: So browsing the news on my old-and-just-recently-hacked cell phone I came across this
(originally it pointed to a news article about this, so the link died so this is a little more appropriate)
March: There are more things I've figured out.
April: I really should get back in the habit of this.
May: Fact: Unchecked, I could easily spend $15 a week on macademia nuts to snack on.
June: The most recent weird lucid dream I've had.
July: So here I stand.
August: They tell children, while growing up, that they can be anything they want to be when they grow up.
September: Dear Weather System: May I please go on vacation next week?
October: Once upon a time, I thought there was no escape.
November: On the warfront, there is a cease fire.
December: And I quote Nature: "You can't be sad and play [DDR]."

Feh, I never was much of a one-liner. I think I perform best when given the time to just throw a metric fuckton of words (approximately 333,000, half of a kilobeast) out and let them settle into their own little place.

How far I've come, yet how far I've fallen.

Follow up to the whole Groovy Girl / NPP thing. I was working on her computer trying to hammer down some instability that appeared to be a misbehaving hard drive. NPP kept mentioning how early he had to wake up the next morning to get to work. I wasn't done, and I loathe leaving a job half done, so I kept working on it. Before the incident, he would just leave and we would spend the night talking. This time he stuck around to make sure he walked me out. I'm such a jerk. But you already knew that.

Since December, the first time I've played DDR was yesterday. Man do my feet hurt. I got tired enough to quit after the third song. I didn't realize that it took so much physical effort, but it's quite encouraging to continue and return to glory. Strangely enough, I didn't go to Local Arcade. I went to Would Have Been Local Arcade, had I continued working for blahblahblahblah. Considering I've got a MASSIVE case of cabin fever, I didn't really want to run into Shorty whose presence would have reminded me that I'm stuck here.

Temporarily.

My token collection works at that location, too. Somehow, when I think I'm almost out, I always take the last 5 into a video poker machine and get a ton of tokens out of it. I havn't paid for tokens since October.

It's interesting, though. I went out of my way to that location for the hell of it and to get away. I passed the local Indian casino. I thought to myself how I had discounted my becoming a professional gamber and I made an impression in my head of my attitude if I were. "I'll walk in there and double my money," I'd say. I went so far as to wear my internal impression on the outside. I stopped at it, got out of my car with $10 and said out loud "I'm gonna double mah monah." Nobody heard the psycho talking to himself in the parking lot, which is something I'm not going to put a value judgement on. At least MY inner voices are just mean to me and don't tell me to kill people.

"HEY!"

Well, it's true.

Anywho, I walk in and this is my first time in a casino. It isn't Vegas, and although I'd really like to go I just can't afford it. I saw mostly just video machines, which was a disappointment. There was a poker room with table games but I was going to stay away from that business. Surprising was how smokey it was in there. Student used to be a cashier there, and I can totally see her being in that role. I thought to myself how cute she's look in that tacky coupier outfit and pushed onwards through the cigarette smoke. I saw video games that I've never seen before. One seemed to be a "Guess a Number" derivative, another appeared to be a lotto style thing. Digital slots, ho hum. I settled onto a video poker machine and got to it. $8 in I hit a rather k-rad hand. The result? I more than doubled my initial $10. About 4.5 times that initial $10. Sheesh, I knew about beginner's luck but I didn't believe it. If I knew that I would have ponied more.

It just goes to show that, when it comes to luck, it's always relatively insignificant things. Sure, an extra $43.75 is pretty good, but I'm hesitant to treat myself to a new T-Shirt or two and instead know I've got to squirrel this away. Especially since this job hunt probably has little to do with luck and more with who can see my genius. Or my just winging it, whichever works for you.

I just have a feeling that I'm a pet. Like someone is writing a story and this whole job thing is just a plot device. And so I will treat my current bout with chastity. It's just there because it has to be. I'd rather it wasn't but I can't do anything to change that right now so I'll let the writer do his job and push it forward because it's getting moldy.

You know how people pose a question like "which celebrity do you have a crush on?" I never really knew how to answer that. "No one, I guess," would be my answer. That's changed. Saw Ghost World, Thora Birch now my answer to that question.

It's about time I had a silly thought like that, huh? After not having any silly thoughts in a while.

"I just need someone to be nice to me for like 5 minutes and I'll leave you alone forever"
(one bottle of champagne later)
"Don't you like me, Seymour?"

Hey, at least she ISN'T MARRIED. That's gotta count for some kind of luck, right? Bah, I don't choose attached women, I've got a theory about it I've been kicking around, but that'll be next time.

Yonphi · Jan 17, 2005

I Can't Sleep...

... because the clown will eat me.

I'm feeling really and strangely talkative right now, even so much as to call people up but I'd feel awful if I woke anyone up.

Somehow I always seem to talk myself out of calling people. And instead am talking to a void of endless electrical impulses. Ah, it just sounds more interesting than it is.

I've been getting reaquainted with stuff I've been putting off. This week (heee) it's anime. Somewhere along the many years of file trading (and I mean MANY years of file trading... I remember snagging some great things that just can't be found today: like a program to generate drivers license numbers from your name and date of birth) I managed to pick up the entire series of Marmalade Boy.

The concept is pretty neat. There are these two couples that go on vacation and decide to divorce, swap partners, and remarry. The single children meet and from the first day "little bubbles surrounded her head" so that must mean she likes him.

The whole thing keeps going about their "secret" affair together. But not after establishing that the guy is evidently God's gift to women and stuff like that.

It's a total soap opera.

It's distracting me from my writing my audio mixer library.

I love it.

So, ok, the two characters (We'll call them Miki and Yuu, for the fact that their names are, in fact, Miki and Yuu) are going through all the stuff couples go through. She discovers this girl (Aremi) who's, like, in love with this dude.

(My conversation skills have just dropped 6 years in skill. Sorry.)

It's just a really long and complex story and I'm not going to tackle putting it into synopsis form. But eventually Aremi starts to get over it by going out with this other guy (Ginta) who's, like, in love with Miki.

Now, Aremi and Ginta's relationship is cute. They're both kind of shy at expressing themselves. They've got this "Jet Memo" thing, which is sort of like a PDA except it can only store one string of text... and... is shaped like a little jet. One of the more interesting parts is, during Christmas, he asks her what she wants. She takes the Jet Memo from him and starts typing into it. He tries to look over her shoulder and see but she keeps it hidden and blushes and all that. He gets it back and we all then see what it says. "Kiss kiss kiss kiss kiss kiss kiss."

Awwww....

That kind of cute innocent stuff. I'm... never... I'm never going to have that, am I? A discovery period like that is what middle school is for. I missed that. Anyone I'm going to meet that's legal is always going to be so seasoned.

Ok, here's a reason why I can't sleep. That cloud that I've managed to dodge for more than a year is back. The cloud with the spirit of rejection swirling around.

Looking for work is a lot like looking for love. You observe the job by reading the requirements and duties, which is similar to knowing the girl and trying to guess if I'd like her or not. You apply for the job, which is similar to asking her out. And you wait until something comes out of it, which is like the eternity that is the 5 seconds waiting for an answer.

My first job was pretty innocent. I had a cool boss who liked me (and eventually turned on me because I wanted fairness), I did something completely new to me. I did a great job because they eventually wanted me to supervise and stuff like that. I liked the additional respect it would command, and I liked those workshops, but I wanted pay for it. But nobody was discovering it with me. I was their first hire in a long while and the next hire was quite some time later. Student wasn't even in the picture until I was getting ready to demand a piece of the action. But that job went full circle: someone who left just before I was hired followed almost the exact same path.

I'm still applying for places and trying to do productive things with my time so I can put "freelance" on a resume and have things to point to that I've accomplished. But, aside from New Years Eve, I've been terrified of meeting new women. I really have. It just hit me out of nowhere. I don't want to start another string of rejections. I don't know how I would handle it. That cloud is reminding me of the way I used to feel and I can sit up from my bed and shake my head and say "no, it's not like that anymore."

But it's not like that anymore because I'm not providing the opportunity for it to happen. It's easy to say "I will never again set fire to this house" when you will not even strike a match to light a candle. It's easy to say "I'll never again get so drunk I fall down a flight of stairs" when you only drink while on the ground floor.

Right now I guess I have an excuse. I'd be a rotten boyfriend who will hesitate to use the gas to visit her, who can't go on dates because everything is expensive, I can't bring her to my place because it's not MY place. So, once those are no longer valid excuses...

What do I care. 0 income is a fantastic excuse. It's a horrible way to live, so I'm eager to get out of it.

Which means when I do get out of it, I'll have to deal with being lonely in a more realistic manner.

It's easy to say "I'll never be hurt by someone not even giving me a chance" when... well, you know.

Yonphi · Jan 19, 2005

Follow Up along with Looking Up

If it's one thing that garners appreciation like nothing else, it's when something jumps at you from the past and makes you go: Whoa!

Remember T-Girl? You know, back from the days when my posts used to be good? Well, evidently the forward I had put on my old school e-mail to my other e-mail HAS been working, it's just that nobody's wanted to write to me there. Last I left her she was twinkling with thoughts of her boyfriend proposing to her. Evidently it's happened and I've been invited to the wedding. I'm surprised she still remembered me. Real surprised. But it did look like it went out to a bunch of folks according to the mail header so it was probably people she didn't have addresses for.

It was really informal, I don't know what he last name is going to become. I don't know where it is, either. I don't think I should go because we really aren't very communicative anymore. But who knows. I've done stranger things on a whim.

Play has still been trying hard to get me to open up and be a friend again. I'm not breaking down, but it feels pretty good to have someone want so much to... torture and humiliate. No, scratch that. It doesn't feel good at all.

She's telling me about Replacement how she's already had sex with him and how her husband caught them kissing (in they're house, of all places) and smashed the entire living room. He called her a slut and a whore but according to her he didn't lay a finger on her. She ALMOST garnered my sympathy. Him? Oh, he's still sending me death threats. But that's fine. Some of them are kind of funny. Something about someone ripping out my heart but going through the trouble of shoving it down my throat so I can "taste what death feels like" is pure comedy gold. Wish I thought of that.
He actually hasn't TRIED to kill me yet. Either that or I'm like Mr. Magoo or something and have missed every plot to kill me so far. My wrist has had some pain recently so I went and got myself a Damned Cheap (tm) wrist splint. Does that count?

Version one of the email I was going to reply read as follows:
"So, it's what, 7 years now? Just dump him and marry [Replacement]. No big deal. Lather, rinse, and repeat in another 7, Lady Locust."

Nah.

Version two: "the funny thing about hepititis is that it really sneaks up on someone, you know?"

Nah.

I did send a respectable reply. "Sounds like you're finding what you're looking for."

I'm too nice sometimes.

But it's not without it's benefits. I do believe the grocery store cashier flirted with me. My asking "are you open?" and her replying "No, but my register is." Oh wow, so that's the sound of me having a crush on someone. Eye contact? Tons. Check. Taking a good long look at my driver's license and referring to me by name? Check. I think I did good. I must of because we kept talking small talk, although I can't remember what I said.
I walked out of there with a grin from ear to ear. I didn't look back. Don't know if I should have. I'll be a hopeless case when she finds out I'm not working right now and living with my parents, but in the meantime it's ok.
After all, aren't some women always finding themselves mixed up with losers? Alcoholics, Unemployed, Knife-weilding-with-greasy-hair?

Shit like that never happens to me. Let me glow in this, as pathetic as it may be, damnit.

Yonphi · Jan 21, 2005

Musicalaccia

There's this thing about people being left brained or right brained. Noteworthy is how it's always one or the other, nobody likes to believe in well-balanced minds, nor would they have the audacity to claim that they have it.

Although to be fair, didn't the guy that came up with the hierarchy of needs with "self actualization" at the top claim that he was there?

I will not say anything about the distance between the two to know how equal the balance is, but it's no secret I'm pretty left brained.

One thing I love is when I get to put the two together.

There are four exams I've taken that are absolutely the most memorable exams ever. They were an IQ test, and three AP exams. Latter first. Not sure about states other than the ones where the AP ones exist, but basically it's a way to take "college level" courses at high school and get college credit for them when you score at least 3 out of 5 on it. I took Computer Science twice (one was "A", which was the easy version that leaves out a lot of good stuff, and one was "AB", which was four-on-the-floor style) and Calculus. I loved those exams because of the way they force you to think in chains.

The Calculus exam included some of my favorite problems. One of which is a question that describes a container's shape and dimensions and you have to figure out how fast it would fill with a given flow rate. Something about a 2D description extrapolated out into a 3D object and something dynamic going on that paints a picture that is, in a strange way, beautiful. The idea was, as precisely as possible, to paint a picture with words.

Here's a task for the reader. Pick up an ordinary, everyday object and describe it. Describe it in great detail. Describe it so that an alien who has never seen it before will know what it looks like. "Aluminum Can" doesn't work. How long is it? How wide? Does the aluminum have any patterns etched or impressed onto the surface? What is at the ends? Are they sharp edges or rolled? Is the inside coated with anything? Any paint on the outside? If so, in what patterns? What colors? Is there a percentage of surface area covered in paint?

Writing in great detail what my classic Game Boy looks like took about three pages. It's an eyeful to read, but it is unmistakeable what it looks like. I applied a challenge onto myself that I would not use any dimensions, to make it a bit more difficult. I feel like it did something to my brain. Hopefully good, but, you never know.

Huh? What scores did I get on those exams? I'm not saying. Either I'm ashamed or I'm humble. I'll let you decide which it is.

"Well, you never hestitate to post something shameful."

You always ruin my fun, TORA. Fine fine. Smacked down each with a 5.

I remember walking out of one of the Computer Science ones and hearing other test takers describe a problem and how they solved it. It was to fill an array with values, each indexed position must contain the sum of all the numbers from the first one to the current index on another array. So, basically, Array1 = Array2[1] + Array2[2] + ... + Array2. I remember them criticising that question for being too trivial. They all described a solution that, repeating on each element on Array1, to perform that sum. And I smiled and smiled all the way home. I didn't do it that way. I took the previous entry from Array1 and just added in Array2. Obviously the first element is the exceptional case, but my algorithm was just SO much better than theirs. I was pleased because if this was my competition, I'm going to make a killing out there.

Attention to detail results in good code. I remember a project in which I had to tabluate everything that happened per "business day". There was a listing of holidays and I had to avoid those days and avoid weekends. But the data I was tracking could have data from those days, so you obviously can't skip them. I wrote an extremely beautiful algoritm for it. It was my proudest coding moment that I actually got paid for. I felt GOOD after it. Just so damn good.

And when I get to play with the right side of my brain, it feels just as good. I've been on a Flash kick for the past three days. I've never played with Flash MX before, so I started. It was easy enough for someone who knows Flash 5 and Actionscript 1.0. But I got a good handle on it now and I'm mixing artistry and coding in interactive thingamabobs. It's rewarding. I can step back when it's done and say "Whew, I built that from the ground up."

Today my brother had off from work, and he had expressed interest in a device that would transcribe notes from a guitar into a format he could input into computer automatically. I described the ways it could be done and how it was all likely to be expensive and probably not readily available in the local musical gear store. He wanted me to come along, perhaps to rub it in my face when the guy said I was wrong. But, wouldn't you know it, I was right again. I was treated to dinner for it.

But while there we just went around and played with the display models and listened to very talented individuals do their thing.

Back in the day when I was working on the Unified Boyfriend Quotient Theory (the one I referred to rather early in this journal's history), I remember assigning relative values to certain events. One of the patterns I noticed is that band members got lots and lots of points because they seemed to be irresistable to women. Not school band members, mind you, but the garage band ones. They didn't even necessarily have to be good. All they needed was to be a part of a small group of equally skilled members and have some purchased equipment and a name.

I decided if I was ever to be in a band, it would be named "No Toe Joe" because I would want people to ask me who Joe was. Plus it sounds nice. If you have a band and are going to take that name, give me a little credit, huh?

Actually, I did breifly play an instrument. I was a pianist. My mother wanted to show me off to all her friends so she pushed really hard for me to do it. I did pretty well, and I liked it. But then there was going to be a competition. There was a whole lot of pressure from my teacher and my mother on this competition. I was scolded for practicing the songs that pleased me and not the ones that were on the competition roster. Eventually I felt tired of being a trained monkey and refused to play in the competition and I didn't play piano again since.

Somehow being able to play a musical instrument is recognized as talent and apparantly is a chick magnet. And I'm not going to say that stuff I can do is harder, because it isn't. To be a musician you need a lifetime of skill and practice. To be a computer guy all you need is a head for remembering stuff, and, even if you don't want to, there will ALWAYS be a reference somewhere (except if you're looking for 8085 (not 8086 or 8088) programming manuals, but that's a rant all to itself). But playing acoustic guitar in a campus courtyard just doesn't have the same "wow he's cool" factor as creating a Scene Demo (which is described easiest as a music video for your computer used to show off clever programming techniques and to basically make the machine do things that it might not otherwise be able to).

I don't like saying the things like that which follows because it just reeks of me begging for someone to do it. But I'm going to.

Once, just once, I want someone to say to me "____, you amaze me."

Yonphi · Jan 25, 2005

Bittersweet, but Delicious

And so, I am employed again. It wasn't dramatic, it didn't take a whole lot of effort (close to none for where I'm working now). I didn't even have to get a haircut right before.

I'm working for who I was working for two months ago.

No, I'm not proud. I should have been strong. It took me a whole day to decide, you know. And I felt a little sickly over the weekend as a result. I was kind of hoping to get a job out of state since it will thrust me into a new place where new people would be and I could start a new life of embarassing moments and snafus.

Although... considering how unexpected this was, being called to come back to work and all, anything can happen. Good things can't happen to you if you turn down opportunities. You know me to never turn down an opportunity just in case. Although, sometimes it's not for the better. I won't apply values to changes and adventures in my life. They are what they are and I affectionately refer to all of them as my memories, many of which also have a little spot in someone else's memory, which is nice to think about. (Even if Play is a locust.) It's better than being completely static and unchanging. I need spice.

It DOES make me feel valuable, which I'm craving these days. Like me. Love me. Comfort me. Guard me. Treasure me. Never let me go.

Speaking of spice and craving, I've been eating crap for the past two months. I gave up the cheaper-than-mulch junk food once I got a food subsidy from my folks who were horrified with the idea of what was going into my body (frankly, so was I, but you do what you have to). But it still was crap. I had to settle for generic supermarket eggs and flavorless butter and tough frozen vegitables. I went to the supermarket tonight and picked up some REAL food. I'm by no means a hippie, but I love my free-roaming hen eggs, organic butter from cream by grass-grazed cows, and absolutely delicious pesticide-free organic veggies. If you look at a pound of organic butter and go "$5.25! Good Lord that's a lot of money!", you owe it to yourself to try it at least once. Then you can tell me whether it's worth it or not. Not to be one to not spoil a surprise: it is.

So right now I'm happy because I had flavorful food. Which sure compensates for not being able to have breakfast because I need to drive about two hours to work. Give and take, give and take.

I still can't get kawaii-radio to streamcast there:
http://193.201.52.17:7665

I don't feel like answering the questions that will follow my asking to open up that port. Because the answer is "for my personal amusement." And to put a stop to that reggaton. Somehow it sounds better during the day than at night. I don't know if they have DJ's spinning the sets, or if it's some strange clumping of the random number generator (which, on the upside, is a trait of good random number generators). Although it's strange that the time of day would impact the RNG so much, so it's probably just a bad one if it is controlling the station.

Also...

Too bad. It looks absolutely delicious.

Yonphi · Jan 27, 2005

Distraction

I want to refocus this journal. Again. I really do. But if I did it (and meant it, not just saying I want to), I really would have very little to talk about.

Today I needed to pick up just a few things since my breakfast dilema is not getting any easier to handle. I wanted to find Cashier but she wasn't there. It's ok though. I'm convinced last time was a fluke. The Fates weren't paying attention and they let one slip by. Oh, you squirrelly Fates you. I'll level with you, though. Right now in my life I would really really like something. I would really like to LIKE someone and to do things to them and have things done to me. I'm not sure why I captialized "like", since it's not as if I'm being selective about it. I just like the non-physical feelings that surround it too.

In a few months it's going to be a year. Wow. I remember Ms. Robinson telling me that sometimes when she would take care of herself, she would think about past lovers and experiences. So I don't really feel weird about remembering stuff like the next morning after the first night, having arms curled around me from behind while drinking a then-usual breakfast of milk.

So here's a distraction.

Recently Florida legislature has passed a bill allowing police to pull you over for the offense of not buckling your seat belt. It always was the law, it's just that the cops had to have to pull you over for a more substantial infraction. Every time something like this passes, you always hear a representative for the police going "[This law] is going to save lives." Ok, so they wanna save some lives. Who is going to argue with that?

Well let me tell you a little something about Miami-Dade county rules of the road. EVERYONE tailgates. Everyone. Why? Because if you keep a safe distance away from the car in front of you, someone will speed up out of nowhere and cut you off. Or someone at an intersection will jump out in front of you, figuring: "This guy doesn't want to be in an accident, so you bet he's gonna slow down for me. I'm having the greatest power trip ever! I'm so much more important than you!"

Another unwritten rule. If the light for a left turn becomes green while you are had stopped at the red, you have permission to go. Always. Regardless of whether or not it returns to red before you make your turn. Sometimes you can just go even if you didn't stop at all, because it wouldn't make sense to be the only person waiting to make a left. The result is that the light will turn green on the other side to go straight, and they won't be able to go because people are still accellerating and trying to make the turn. Everyone is thinking "just one more car, mine, can't possibly make a difference." If you try to stop without making a left, prepare to have other vehicles swerve around you, missing by inches, to make sure they can do the turn that you are too decent to perform.

Now, the people trying to go straight follow the same rule. They will run lights with impunity, which they feel is justified because of those bastards that made left turns on red, holding up THEM. This causes disasterously crowded intersections where there are literally hoardes of cars and SUVs (especially SUVs, for some reason) parked in the intersection. What happens if a firetruck needs to get through there? How about a police car? Not once have I ever seen any police EVER enforce ANYTHING relating to these. Ever. So much for saving lives. I guess only when it's convenient.

Also worth noting. There is a 6 lane highway across from a stadium here. 6 lanes, good visibility, very straight, good paved road, PLUS a two lane "median" used only during sports days. Speed limit? 30 mph. 30! Take another road. I don't hesitate to call it The Deathtrap. I should know: I take 33 miles of it every day to work. 2 Lanes. A thin yellow line separating the road. No shoulder: go off the pavement and you are in the grass and careening towards a canal. Other way? Same thing. No side rails. Speed limit? 55 mph. And if you want to go 55 on that road, you can forget about feeling safe, because you WILL be passed at 70+ mph by huge dualie trucks that cross over in the oncoming traffic lanes, even during turns with poor visibility, even with fog, and swerve like a slalom.

What I didn't tell you is that those two "median" lanes on usually collects at least 4 state trooper patrol vehicles parked in the shade provided by an overpass. They sit there, point radar guns, and just step out into the roadway, point to drivers, and make them pull over. Such a abnormally low speed limit ensnares everyone to speed there. They make a killing. Meanwhile The Deathtrap doesn't really have any neat little traps. It's just a lonely road that slices through the swampland. Cops can't find a place to hide and make a speed trap.

Every accident I see on The Deathtrap is a huge wreck with cars smashed and flipped and hanging off into canals and stuff. White fire-extinguishing foam all over the road. "Please Drive Safely" signs put up there weeks later. In Florida, everytime there is an accident on a road that results in a death, they put up a little round "Please Drive Safely" sign at the accident site. One for each death. I've seen sections where there are FIVE signs in ONE spot.

Meanwhile I doubt anyone has ever gotten into any kind of accident in that 6+2 extra-wide lane 30mph highway. Saving lives indeed.

Ulg.

Yonphi · Feb 7, 2005

It's good to play together

Another day without internet at home and I would have considered wearing my ninja costume and connecting a patch cable to the neighbors' house. Well, no, I don't actually have a ninja costume. But I often like taking black t-shirts and making myself a mask.

And it's too bad because I really could have used it. Down time at home really is completely unproductive down time. The web often inspires me to partake in experimentation or learning a new form of piracy or something like that. And stuff has been going on and I've nobody to share it with.

Howard Stern gets a bad rap a lot of the time. Last week there was a caller who needed advice from Howard. He had a girl passed out on his couch and he wanted to bang her. And always willing to make entertainment out of anything, he consulted his "book" to see if that would be wrong. Eventually Howard convinced him to wake her up and he could talk her into doing him. He was reluctant. Robin said it was because once she was conscious then he'd really have no chance. He did, eventually, and when he put her on the phone, the next thing you know, Stern was urging her to "get out of the house now!"

The real gift of this bit was, however, near the end. She was going on and on about how much he loves her and she was completely opposed to any suggestion of any attraction. He did say "why don't you just give him a kiss?" and she said immediately and quite loudly "HELL NO!" It kept going, with the guy trying lines Howard was feeding him, trying desperately to get her to open up. She was crashing on his couch to begin with because he got her all boozed up. Eventually he said to forget about it, that she just wasn't interested and he needed to cut his losses and move on. After the call, Robin said something important. Paraphrasing, "this is an example to all the guys out there who can't get the message."

True Dat.

Nothing seems to be easy these days. My retirement fund is under attack. My prior employer doesn't feel like paying the administration of it anymore so now I've got to find time to open up a new account somewhere else. Yes, with a bank. And we all know how banks are open for like 30 minutes a day. And, of course, there's the top secret project I'm trying hard to win at (although without internet it's next to impossible). We'll see... my deadline is coming up in a month or so.

On the upside, I got a girl's email address. Has to start from somewhere, right? According to the checklist, I'm doing well.
[X] - Not attached
[_] - Of Age
[_] - Met someplace other than Local Arcade.

Ok, maybe I'm not doing well after all. I revert back to "Has to start from somewhere" mode. It doesn't really matter, in the end. She won't be attracted to me because that's just the way it'll be (no, I don't know for sure, but I don't need Cliff's Notes on this one). But the notion that ONE person is interested in at least some of the workings of my brain is a nice one.

I don't think I should be allowed to harbor any negativity about my love life. This is considering a few reasons.

1. Havn't been on vacation in a while. One could claim that my unemployment was a vacation, but it wasn't since I couldn't afford to go anywhere. A vacation right now, I feel, would be good to help. I need to be truly inspired. I need to see green pastures as it will enbolden me to build upon it. There is nothing here for me, I'm convinced.

2. I spent my weekend at another DDR competition. What can I say? It's good to play together.

3. I'm a dork. That was easy.

4. Valentine's Day is coming. I'm sure I'll find the negativity when the time comes so no need to hold on to it now.

On other news, Groovy did something shocking, although many may have seen it coming. She did full-out cheat on NPP. He's the same, they're still together. Also, she isn't beating herself up over it.

They say, when taking multiple-choice exams, that you should figure out the answer, pick it, and move on. You shouldn't dwell on your answer because you might overthink it and change it to a wrong answer. I guess it's my fault for thinking too much that night. Going against the grain caused a lot of shakedown, I guess.

It's also worth mentioning, however, that this guy easily represents what I would consider a "good looking" guy. I have an evolving theory that the better looking the guy the more rules of conduct a woman is willing to ignore or break.

Also, it makes me feel a little disposable. Don't get me wrong, I'm not terribly hung up over it. But if Shorty were to cheat on her boyfriend I wouldn't feel any different about myself than I ordinarily would. Simply because she and I aren't on that particular level. Disclaimer over.

To pan out more analysis on the Groovy Breakdown that weekend, I can't help but wonder that the reason why she had the breakdown is that for a moment she felt attracted to the likes of me and was going crazy because of embarassment. Like eating a lovely TV Dinner of Soylent Green and enjoying every moment of it and, mid consumption, you learn that it "is people." You'd go crazy because you liked something that is horrible to like. "I can't believe I almost had sex with," *cringe*, "him! I must be out of my mind! OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG" etc etc etc.

So that's a bit of hurt feelings. But what am I going to do? Nothing. That's what. At least the guilt from that time helped detach myself from being attracted to her so I'm not feeling that down about it. It's just worth mentioning. Hurt feelings are slowly becoming the norm. I'm not saying that one should have to get used to them, I'm just saying that it'll happen with trends.

Stop being trendy, ok?

Yonphi · Feb 10, 2005

Dangerous Boy

I went to a Japanese Resturaunt today.

It sucks to eat alone. On the way there I kept thinking that I'd be alone. I decided to swing by Shorty's place. It was on the way, and I just had a twinge to drop by.
Don't judge me. I just NEED companionship right now, I don't care under what pretext. You don't have to love me. Just sit with me for but an hour.
I asked her to come with me. And I asked her to go to the resturaunt with me. Just kidding, I only asked the latter. She said she already ate.

The funny part is how I practically begged her to come with me.
"I just need a girl to sit with me for a while, make me feel non-trivial."
"But you're not trivial."
"Well, sure, I know that, but I don't feel that."
"I'm not hungry! It'd be stupid to just sit there and stare at you eat."
"There's always room for edamame. And there's conversation, too."
"Maybe another time."

Repeat: it sucks to eat alone. But I do it.

But what I remember more about the food, the cost, the wait, and the sake, was looking at those waitresses as they mosied back and forth across the place with lustful eyes.
Poor waitresses. Now I feel bad for them. I hope my leering wasn't too obvious.

I am clearly a very dangerous guy these days. My abject lack of an attempt-based love-life economy has just caused me to bottle up my desires.

When I burst, I'll try not to get anything dirty.

Yonphi · Feb 14, 2005

Opposing Forces

Wow, thank you, someone out there, for a sweet message! You made today's realization possible, and therefore today's post.

So the day started grumpy. Accident on every single possible road to work, so no matter which way I chose I'd be in for it. Got to work, sat down in a huff and got to work. I strayed over to my non-Yonphi email and checked it out. Got a message from Other Girl, one of NPP's conquests, who will now be known as Vouge for her zany fashion sense. It's hard to describe, but she accessorizes like no one I know.
Anyway, she wrote a mass-message about how Valentine's day is too commercial and that love isn't about getting people stuff today. It wasn't particularly charming, but it had a twinge of "I have nobody, fuck y'all who do." It was dark, a little brooding, and fit quite well with my feelings.

Then I log in here as descretely as possible and find a sweet PM. After my birthday came and went without a peep*, I didn't expect it.

(* Ok, that isn't exactly fair. I always keep on the down low with my birthday. It's partially habitual, because it's always when I find out how young I am compared to everyone I run with. So I'm used to not breathing a word about it and someone finding out anyway and making a big deal out of it, perhaps in retaliation for my attempt at glossing it over. This time mostly everything went according to plan. People at work found out, sure, but there wasn't a cake until a few days later (so I almost got away with it). NPP and Groovy didn't say anything to me. Shorty didn't either. Nobody said anything to me. I did tell Vouge and she quickly issued a Happy Birthday to me, but it felt like cheating because I told her. Now that I was more successful that ever, I'm thinking about reconsidering my birthday policy.)

Anyway, it ended with a "Will you be my Valentine?" and anonymous origin. And there was a reassuring set of prose in it that countered the feeling Vouge's message generated.

I wasn't going to let Vouge get away with that negativity. I wrote an email and stopped myself before I sent it. I was going to ask her to go out to eat. Although I didn't mention the word "date", it was clearly the pretext.

I stopped myself because it all felt familiar. Where I'm living in now, it's just like the two-fiddy.

Sometimes I stop and think. Plat has been really busy these days and hasn't been able to write me, but aside from her and Play (and we can safely ignore the latter in this discussion), I find myself wondering where some of the others are. I still remember the way I stumbled with Sway, and the cute vegan way Nose Ring Girl carried herself. In the view towards the past, I see a little blurrily now. I can't quite remember what I did to everyone. But I remember what I thought during those days and started to compare it to the way I think now.

I am letting myself develop crushes on people I know. This is EXACTLY how it went.

All this stuff about accessories to cheating and all that stuff is just additional (coincidental?) complication. When you get right down to it, I start thinking that so-and-so would make a nice girlfriend and I start to allow myself to get in the mood of it and my mind "sells" me on the idea. It's this selling that makes me too bashful to approach a notion that hasn't been sold to me. Well that explains a thing or two.

History tells me that when this ends I won't have any friends left. I already feel a coolness going on between Groovy and myself. Shorty hasn't really been the same since I declined to live with her. And Vouge? I realized I've tried to kick up flirty overtones with her and she just either ignores them or refuses to milk them. It's happening again.

So then I start to think. Locusts, right? They rape the land of plantlife as they go. They are a "lower" life form, so we don't attribute reason to them. But nobody really knows. Suppose they can reason. Do they intentionally destroy? Maybe, maybe not. Maybe it's just a matter of "Yo, mac, there's a bunch of us here and if we don't all eat our fill we're gonna die!" or "It's better than only some of use eating and the others starving" or even "All that food is just there for the taking!". They might go and rampage a couple of acres and look back and think, "whoa, what a disaster. I hope not to do that again." But their nature insists it. No matter how they reason it, justify it, or try to avoid it, they can't help but be locusts.

I went to a renaissance festival this weekend with NPP and Groovy. I was kind of hesitant to be the third wheel but she really wanted me to go with them because she has felt the cooling as well. There I had a good time. I felt a bit gun-shy with trying any pickups, though. I made eye contact a few times, and tried to muster a "look", but the return contact was no different than witnessing someone staring off into space. I doubt it'd be different if I were alone.

I honestly want things to be different. Dare I challenge my own natural tendancy? I can try to create an opposing force to counteract it. The question is whether it is enough to stop destruction and find a self-sufficient fruitful area, or whether it will create an anti-wave that will just cancel the other out and leave me in a stalemate.

The good news? Of all the non-relationship Valentine's days (all except one, that is), this is my best one yet. I'm too confused about what to do for me to do something and therefore feel bad about it today.

Mental health through confusion. Who'dathunkit?

Trials of Chastity

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