Always right, and grim for it.

It's an interesting thing, always being right. Being able to look at someone and pluck something up from inside them they keep hidden from everyone. Scary, really, is more like it. Some things shouldn't be found out, at least not by me. Some things I just don't want to know. But I look at the person and there it is, uninvited, but there just the same. And if I'm right about so much else, does that make me right about the other things? The things that I keep buried and don't think about. If I am, should I behave any differently? Somehow I doubt I will. I've been as right as I have been, and haven't looked back yet. I saw the risk. But I didn't care then. Don't care now. It's still worth the risk. Everything is. And if there wasn't any risk involved, it wouldn't be worth it anway.

Does take a lot of the surprise out of life, though. I miss that.

Warm fuzzies.

I am a very content man right now. A warm peaceful happiness permeates my being, in spite of the cold rain spritzing outside. Why, you ask? Short answer: My girlfriend is sick.

"What kind of sick, twisted man is happy because his girlfriend is sick, suffering through illness?"

Now, now, before we get our panties in a twist, that was the short answer. I am fulfilled when I can take care of someone, be it nurturing or protecting or providing. I am happy because I was able to make my sick girlfriend feel better with hot food and a warm, comfy me to cuddle up against while we watched "The Nightmare* Before Christmas." And I'm also happy because I got to cuddle up with my girlfriend of the soft skin and pleasantly scented hair. Which is where my nose was buried for most of the evening. So that's why I'm happy. Because I made my girl feel better, and by being there for her to cuddle up against no less. Warm fuzzies for everyone! Huzzah!

EDIT: *originally "The Nightmate Before Christmas." Bad porn title, or Fruedian slip? Or maybe I can't type sometimes. Eesh.

Dusting off the forgotten

It's a very strange time for me in many ways. I find myself with an unusual amount of free time. Part of this lies in a rather dwindling set of local friends. Most of the time it's just me and Chris. Which is pretty cool. The older brother I never had. But I had, through choice or circumstance, become very much a social creature. I actually had(have?) a desire to be around people, or at the very least a person or two that I am close to, just about all the time. A younger (or is it older?) version of myself would have scoffed at this notion. Wanting to be around people? How very not anti-social. But that kid was an angsty, angry teenager. And before that he was an outcast preteen. Let's trace the stages, shall we? Up to 2nd grade I was about a perfect a kid as you could want. Strong, tall, brilliant, got along with everyone. But the genetic curse of my forebears kicked in during 2nd grade. In two ways. First, as the NC standard IQ test. Provided to help identify children with exceptional needs, on both ends of the spectrum. I, of course, am of the gifted end. We have something in my old school system called A.G. which stands for Academically Gifted. It was a special program within the regular curriculum that catered to our need for more challenging work. And I liked it. I hadn't, yet, started to become bored with easy work, as my teachers were pretty good about finding stuff for me to do when I finished up my classwork. But then my eyes started to get a little bad. It would have never been noticed if not for the Little League. I was always squinting when at bat. Part of this was the sun constantly being in my eyes, but my eyes were losing strength. So now I was really smart and wore glasses. Begin standard stereotype teasing now. But it wasn't too bad, as I had really cool friends and family. Then on to 5th grade. That's the first shift. No longer did my teachers find me work to do when I was done. In fact a substitute once got mad at me for doing something else when I was supposed to be doing typical substitute busy work. Even though I was done. Took away my coloring book. The meanie. Anyway, since I was no longer being so aptly supervised, ADD started to kick in. It's likely that I had been exhibitting signs of ADD much earlier, but I was always kept busy. So I started to slip out of the mainstream. It didn't help that I was becoming a little chubby. Too many books, video games and junk food, not enough exercise. Which wasn't entirely true. I had the preteen baby fat. I was fairly lean in my much younger days. Downright skinny, really. But the chubby, the love of books and solitude, the intelligence, it drove a bit of a wedge between me and my peers. Middle school didn't help in the slightest. 5th-7th saw a lot of me being picked on. A lot. Because I was chubby, because I liked books, because I took medication, because to me deoderant was deoderant, even if it had a pink case. Sure was Sure. It hadn't occured to me that there was anything wrong with it until someone grabbed my bag and rummaged through it. Then I was dubbed "girly deodorant boy." By, of course, the taller and more built slow mutant who lived down the way. Stirred the bitterness, but I had my books, my games, my friends. And then, miracle! During the summer between 7th and 8th grade, I grew 6 inches. and A further 3 through the course of the school year. In three months, three months, I grew 6 inches, going from 5'3" to 5'9" and gained 10 pounds. And dropped 4 inches off my waist. I was wearing a 28. And suddenly, I was a little more acceptable to my peers. Still an object of taunt by those uncreative enough to find new things to torture. But, of course, things didn't stay pleasant. My dad left the summer of my 13th year. I still don't know what all happened, but I guess he had finally just had enough of my mom. Which I can understand. The man was patient for 17 years. But that left some psychological scar tissue. Instant angsty, nonsocial, hate-the-world teen. I was a different breed, though. I knew what was going on in my head. I couldn't control the hormones, or the wild and unpredictable moodiness, but I could understand why it was happening. I did alright keeping things under control. Not great, mind you. I was, what, 15? Who has any control at 15? Started to get that rebelliousness. I was given chances and opportunities to delve into teen peer pressure, but just didn't care too. My best friend through most of my early teen years was Jayson Barber. His parents were the prototypical "cool" parents any teen could want. But they had raised Jayson to be responsibile and independent. So I'd go over there, we'd go cruise or whatever. Sometimes he threw parties, popular parties to anyone, because of the mostly unsupervised nature of things. I could have tried weed or drank beer or engaged in many a single girl for an evening, but didn't. Even when I had thrown away my faith for the whispered promises of heresy, I still held the values. It wasn't until I was 17 that I shifted back towards something more pleasant. It was January of 1999. I was driving my brother and my cousin. It was dark, I had been driving all of six months, foggy, and just a bad intersection. I thought it was clear, but I was, very much, mistaken. I got t-boned by an '84 Buick going ever so slightly over the speed limit. In their defense, I pulled out right in front of them. Though all I remember is hitting the gas, seeing headlights off in the dark distance, and then I was asleep. I remember feeling like I was dreaming. What a crappy dream. And what is that noise? It was the engine of the car whining in high rev, as my foot was still on the pedal. Why am I in my car? Shouldn't I be in bed? Then the pain. Horribly twisted, my right arm screamed at me to wake up, take my foot off the gas and turn the car off. Remember when I said I was t-boned? Yeah I meant me personally, not the car. See, I drove a 1984 Honda Accord. A not large at all car. I lost about 18 inches of side space when the center of the Buick's grill collided with the t-bar between the driver door and the passenger door. And that line is right where my toros lined up in that car, due to my long, non-short-asian legs. So the car hit me. And my death-grip ripped the radius and ulna in twain just below the wrist. I had never been knocked unconscious or passed out before then. It's an...interesting thing to recount. But I had stared death in the face. It put me in darkness. And then, about a month later, something very strange happened. Something unexpected. A girl, I knew her only by sight from the French class we were both in, just ups and asks to sign my cast. Who was I to argue with a cute girl? Well, the signature spread from just her name to most of the space on my cast over the course of about 5 afternoons after school. We were both involved in the school's Broadway Revue, and the acting rehearsals were after school. Thus began one of my most cherished, and most sorely missed, friendships. We became very close so very swiftly. We were alike in many things. We could say something strange, and the other would know exactly what we meant, where others would misunderstand. I grew to love her in a way I have loved no other. But you never love one like you love the first. But, as is the way of things, it was never returned, not in the way I wanted. She saw me as a brother, a friend, and, no matter how close and dear, as nothing more. Which, maybe, in the end, was for the best. It kept what was between us pure, unhindered. And through her I met many wonderful girls. And thusly I spent my senior year surrounded by these amazing girls. I was a lucky guy in many respects. Optmism began to creep out from it's hardened towers. I became, despite my best efforts, a sort of leader in the halcyon golden age of the theater program at East Rowan High School. A rise and fall in one short school year. I was thrust into leading male when one play we tried to do flopped when the current leading male refused to work for his role. Sudden play change and bam! I'm the lead in a romantic comedy. What the heck. And I was paired with a girl I had known since first grade. Who had gone from a slightly lanky ugly duckling into a very amazing swan. And, of course, I had a crush on her. But we pulled it off. We all had ambition, drive. People looked up to me. I tried to put the best I had forward for them. Graduated, went off the school to be an engineer, full of promise and hope. Then I dated Anglee. Sucked in by a long, slow, determined spell. We dated very briefly during my senior year. Two months, as I recall. I dumped her. There's no real way to put it other than that. It wasn't nice, but I did it. She had begun to fall in love with me. And I was in no way ready for that. I had been told she liked me and figured, what the heck? But I let her go. Because my heart desired only Billie Feather at the time. But slowly she worked her way in until I relented to the assault. We dated for over a year. A year of neglect, abuse, infidelity, blame. But never once did I falter in what I saw as my duties to her. I was patient, I was kind, I was understanding, forgiving. I was everything her parents, and her father especially, were not. But in the end, it wasn't enough. She dumped me for a friend of mine. Had been planning it behind my back with him for months. Down the spiral again. And now I've clawed my way out of that heaping pile of wreck. I managed it around June of last year, when I first came to Greensboro for the Van Halen concert, the kick off of their new world tour. Social, social, social! But here in the last few months, I've been slowing working to a balance. Like diggin through the closet and finding that jacket you thought was just kick-ass years ago, but had out-grown in one way or another. Only now I'm a lot slimmer than I was. And it fits like a charm. Jacket of Peaceful Solitude. I'm chilling by myself, but I'm not feeling bad about it. I used to fight for the very thing I have now. I have music, I have writing.

And what the hell. Where the heck did all that come from? Riding a wave of memory after finding an old photo album. Oh well. There it is. Dusted off the old jacket. Fits like a dream. Better than when I first got it, really.

Sushi!

So Holly and I went out to Wasabi on Market St. tonight. First time I've ever had sushi. It's pretty good stuff. Green tea for drink, miso soup. I had a salmon roll and a spicy salmon roll, and Holly had two tempura shrimp rolls and a spider roll. But she hadn't eaten at all until dinner and I insisted she eat until she was full. Poor girl hadn't slept for about 60 hours until I sent her to bed after we got back. Of course, that's her procrastination at work. But the time we spent was pleasant, if short.

Kinda tired myself, though. Looking forward to starting orientation Saturday. My dad's thinking of coming out here Saturday, too, so maybe a bunch of us head out to dinner.

First Time for Everything

Well. This is a first for me. A pleasant St. Valentine's Day. In my 22 years on this planet, I have been single for all but two of these days. Of those two Valentine's Days, only this one has had me in a good mood. The other was three years ago, and Anglee and I spent that entire evening cheering up her friend Natalie whose boyfriend just dumped her. Boy. That was exciting. This year is a little different. I got to see Holly this weekend, which had its ups and downs, but there were significant revelations and things are better for it, and we're going out tomorrow night. Ideally, we'd be doing something today, but things are what they are. Still gave her a little something, so really it will have been V-Day for three of the the five days between Saturday and Tuesday.

One of the reasons I'm ok with all of this, is because I have a cognisant awareness of the basis for this holiday. I know the story of St. Valentine, for example. This whole mess goes back to correspondance he had with, I believe, his jailer's daughter? Anyway, it is said that he and a woman had been writing love letters while he was in prison for whatever. And then three miracles and a canonisation later, and he's a saint. Then, it seems, some well educated, and most likely Catholic in origin, person saw this as being marketable. A day for love and cards and roses and candy and jewelry. Marketing genius, really. Some of my friends had, in an effort to cheer me from my gloom that I usually wear on this day, mentioned that this day is supposed to be about everyone you love, family, friends, not just the girl I wanted to be with. And while that might be the original intent, I am still inundated with displays of happy coupledom that make me ill from 1) disgust at the ability of humanity to be duped, and 2) disgust at the overwhelming display of happy lovers based in jealousy.

But all of that is in the past. I dropped a rose off on Holly's doorstep for her to find, which she did, as my small gesture of rememberance of the day. And, of course, I have told her multiple times that I love her. And now I'm looking at an evening filled with Lord of the Rings: The Third Age. Which is a pretty cool game, by the by.

sorry it had to be you this year, bro

LiveJournal Quiz.

LJ Friends Meme by

• You must tell 3 people about this game.
• Holly is the one that you love.
• Heather is one you like but can't work out.
• You care most about Chris.
• John is the one who knows you very well.
• Lenore is your lucky star.
• For the Longest Time is the song that matches with Holly.
• When the Levy Breaks is the song for Heather.
• Dance of Curse is the song that tells you most about YOUR mind.
• and Hero of the Day is the song telling you how you feel about life
Take this quiz


Admittedly, this rings true, disturbingly so, on all counts. Though it should be noted that the song that tells the most about my mind is a mostly insturmental piece with operatic chanting, all in minor keys, very tense and battly. It's from Escaflowne. And Hero of the Day. Yeah, it's all freakishly close.

Employment! Cooking! Glee!l

I have a job, have a job, have job once again! I went in for my interview today. I was there in khaki cargos and others were there in suits and ties. Suits and ties! For retail! What the heck? Didn't anyone tell them to dress for the job? If you're going in for an entry position in a retail store that has their employees in polos, nice pants and a polo is all you need. Save the suits for the accounting jobs. Anyway, as soon as my initial interview was over, the guy in charge came by, asked some questions, and told me straight up, "We're going to offer you a job. We're just not sure exactly where we can put you just yet. So I'll call you Saturday or Monday with something definite." And then as Chris and I are pulling out to do some shopping, I get a call to come in to talk to yet someone else. Seems it's the supervisor for the car audio department. He says I'm working there. So I have a job! Yay! Orientation starts next Saturday, so I have this week to goof off during, though I'll likely be painting Warhammer stuff, and maybe running some intro games for Chris and Doug. Which will be cool. So very exciting.

And I also get to cook for Holly tomorrow, which is thrilling for me. I put the chicken in my marinade of Italian dressing with aged romano cheese and white wine. And I have a feeling I won't be cooking it for at least another 24 hours, if not longer. So that chicken will be right tender and juicy and tasty. Though that does remind me. I need to get some decorative items for the dinner. But I have the rest of today and most of tomorrow. So very excited. Glee!

UPDATE: Holly, it seems, has a small gallery of some artwork on Elfwood. Never knew she drew. Seems she's not too bad at all. Go see for yourself here. Of course, I'm not biased in my praise of her art at all. No. Never. Nope. :D

Disclaimer

This blog is mainly vent space, as I've said before. Which means it has a tendency to wax melodramatic. It's because of my romantic nature. I'm also a writer of sorts. So things tend to get exaggerated. But things are ok right now. Don't know exactly what switch got flipped where, but I feel ok about things. All things. Looking forward to Saturday, though. And Sunday, too. Sparky's going to be running some D&D on Sundays. So yay that.

Roller Coaster

Well. That didn't take long. Up and down and up and down and up and down. All day. This is going to become a problem. I don't want it to become a problem. I don't like problems. Problems aren't happy. This shouldn't be like this.

New poem.

Oh happy day!

Friday of this week is shaping up to be a most excellent day. Not only is my tax return due to be deposited into my account on Friday, but I also have a job interview! Best Buy just called a few moments ago, and set up the interview. I'm hoping it's a computer technician spot, but just being in computers would be fine enough. Oh joy, oh happiness.

Meanwhile, if I could get my moods to be one thing for a period of more than 24 hours, that'd be super.

Just kidding!

Well, I thought I was going to bed, but it appears my brain has other ideas. So one glass of wine for me while I type out this bit of nonsense. Apparently, Sangria is a right tasty wine. Or so my mouth says. Anyway. At this most very recent moment, I have been overcome by a large feeling of not right. Things just aren't right. It's most likely the hour. But my mind has been wandering. A wandering mind is normally of no consequence, but where the mind was wandering today...It made me feel guilty. Makes me feel guilty.

I was supposed to be able to see Holly today, but she has a paper due tomorrow that she had to work on. I would like to hope that I can see her tomorrow, but on Wednesdays she's being going to see some band or another with Andy, heretofore known as He Who Was Not Chosen. I trust Holly. I have no course but to trust Holly. If I cannot trust her, then I cave in to my past. This is not my past, this is my now. I empathize with Andy. Because I have been He Who Was Not Chosen. But I do not trust Andy. Because I have been He Who Was Not Chosen. And Andy is the person making it difficult for me to get involved in the things Holly does. Because Andy is involved in all of them. And my presence would cause discomfort. Rah. Have I ranted about that already? I don't remember.

Then there's the job hunt. How I hate the job hunt. Lots of effort for no results then a flash of luck that circumvents effort. Every time. Every job I've had was like that. Food Lion, Tony got me the job. Games Workshop, talked to a manager, filled out an application as a formality while I filled out my w2's. Transportation Museum, called the place and asked, and they had me come in and fill out the paper work. CFA, filled out an application, and I was called the next morning. Sam's Effing Car Wash, again, Tony. Hopefully, the tax returns will come soon.

I should feel a lot better than I do right now. But things have become so very weird. Has it run it's course already?

Too warm! And other complaints.

It is far, far too warm for February. While 68 would normally be a fairly comfortable temperature for me, that would be because I was wearing shorts at the time. My body is set to Winter. WHERE IS MY SNOW?!?!

Also, I have a disliking of retail hiring practices. I'm a team player. I have no major beef with corporate America. I'm a Republican and a firm believer in capitalism. I'll play ball. But I go in to check up on an application I put in at Best Buy (which I had to do online, which I have ranted about before) and was brushed off. "We'll be hiring soon. If there's a position you're qualified for, we'll call you." In other words: "We let the software think for us. Because we don't have to think, I am bothered and annoyed by your face to face inquiry. Hopefully the machines will pick the malleable and cheap, and not a driven free thinker like you. All hail the Machine God!" Ok, so there was a little bit of embellishment there, but she was annoyed to have to talk to me. Maybe it was because I "interrupted" a conversation she was having with someone else because I was patiently standing there waiting for her to finish. Rah. Anyone need someone who can build computers, run a register, give excellent customer service, type 8000 wpm, perform light labor, insure inventory control and quality assurance, handle shipping and receiving, and stocking? I'm also familiar with Linux and Unix, Microsoft Office (including Excel), and I can use most fast food equipment. I've got training in managerial duties, such as taking deposits, opening and closing duties, counting down registers, working in a safe, making schedules and assignment sheets, and managing personal to insure quality service. Anyone?

Space Marines! Kickin' da arse!

So I got my hands on the new Space Marines Codex, that's an army rulebook for a game, Lenore. And now the Smurf Marines are even Smurfier! It's awesome. Now my Dark Angels shall be a truly powerful force of death on the tabletop! BURNINATE!

Dilemmination

So is it better to keep something to yourself, turning negativity inward, and thus stopping the spread, or let it out, even though you put something great at risk? I don't want to be mad, but I think I am. Annoyed, frustrated, certainly. I don't like feeling this way. Brings up bad comparisons to previous unpleasantries. Which causes me to ask myself, am I really upset, or is it just an association with a large body of bad memories. Is it really how I feel or am I recalling how I felt in the past? This feeling of unimportance is still lingered, this feeling of being unwanted, or taken for granted. And the sad part is, it feels familiar. I don't believe that I'm not wanted. But the feeling surfaces nonetheless. And it is frustrating and not right to feel as though you're not very high on someone's priority list, a someone who should have me pretty high up on the list. But this could stem from the trend this past week for Holly to either having a great time or being with me, and not both at the same time. Or maybe I'm just melancholy. Sunday trend, it seems. Watch, tomorrow it won't matter, I'll feel better. Is this how it's going to be, or is it going to get better? And why is it that the only future I can't get a read on is my own?

EDIT: Like an idiot, I seem to have answered my own dilemma in, perhaps, not the most delicate way possible. Unlike a normal journal one would keep, other people read this. Regularly. But, I have commited to saying the things I have said already, and I am not one who easily turns back on his decisions. Which, perhaps I should stress. Especially to Holly, specifically, just now in this blurb. I have made my decision to accept you and your love when others thought perhaps I shouldn't, or not as soon or as readily as I did. Others thought maybe I should make you earn back my trust, but I made my decision to trust you already. A lot I have done in my life many advised against doing. But I don't regret my decisions. I could have remained hurt about what happened. I could have reacted in a completely different way when you came to me, walls stripped down, laid bare and afraid before me. Afraid but willing to take a chance. For me. And that's why we're together right now. So this is really two blogs, isn't it? So I was a little mad. But thanks to Bill Engvall being a funny guy, laughter has improved my mood.

In the grim future...

...there is only WAR!

So I've gotten Chris and Doug infected with the Warhammer bug! Chris, rightly, believes that he can use Imperial Guard soldiers to display squad tactics. And Doug is interested in Necron and/or Chaos Space Marines. So I will finally have someone to field my Dark Angels against. Huzzah!

*stab*

How I loathe insomnia. Check the time stamp down there. Yeah. Almost six in the AM. I've been trying to sleep for four hours. Can't get there. It doesn't help that if I don't find more work (again) next week I'm going to find myself in some serious financial poo. I feel like I can find something, but I'd really like something that isn't going to cause me misery. I suppose that's too much to ask, though, isn't it? I seem to have used up all my luck for the year already in just having things being so great with Holly. Figures. I blame this whole mess on a pissant bureaucrat lording over his tiny scrap of power in Receiving. He doesn't like me, so he denied transferring me out of his department into third shift data entry. Why? Because he's a spiteful dumbass. I took those days off because the job in receiving was making me physically ill. Coughing fits and discolored phlegm every 15-20 minutes is a sign that you are unhealthy. And then he got on my case for sitting down. For 15 seconds. While I was waiting on people to get the heck out of the way so I could do what I was supposed to do. Which was last minute busy work anyway. Because it was 11:30PM on a Friday and the trucks were all but done. I hate people. But yeah. Employment limbo, once again. I suppose I could get a job at a Chick-fil-A here in Greensboro. I've got the experience and a good reference from my last CFA boss. But there's that whole "not miserable at the job" factor I'm looking for. That and I'd be asking for at the very least $8/hr. Because that's what I'd be making with the dollar an hour's worth of raises I got at CFA in Salisbury. All of this mess is the result of me trying to improve my credit. I had a job that made okay money, so I increase the payment amounts on my student loan from UNCC. I get new credit card, and do very well with responsible usage to try and improve the credit. Live off the card a bit, pay it off with the paychecks. A reasonanble plan, or so I thought. But no. No-no. Can't have me running about improving my finances or my lot in life. Heaven's no. So let's take that job away, shall we? Yes, that's about perfect. All because I didn't take the job seriously. God forbid someone should invent ways to make their job not suck so much. And just because I didn't take the job seriously, it doesn't mean that I didn't take the work seriously. Because that I did do. Things needed to be accurate, and I made them accurate. Maybe I can go over Milton's head. Who knows. This is something for Monday. Rah. All-nighter. Don't have an desire to pull one. Damnit, why can't I sleep?

finger in the hair, sleep away, sleep away

Entry the Fourth

So I am further convinced of the Right of my relationship with Holly. As you might have seen, I was lamenting about how little I get to see her, and not at all during the week. Well, I got a transfer. It seems I was being looked at as a possible data entry worker. And then I went into Gate City today to see about another job. And then boom. Transfer. Third shift. So I have evenings free! During the week! Yay! Also, some pictures!

First: I am t3h g33k! ph34r!

That's Luthien, the new laptop.

Second: Millennium Falcon, a la Lego


Third: Holly, at Computer

My wonderful, beautiful Holly. Gamer, geek, beauty.

Fourth: The Sleeper has Awakened

I am the kwisatz haderach. Found this place called BumperArt.com. Made me a custom bumper sticker.

6AM and the Evil Genius

Curse this computer, prolonging my conscious hours! Not becoming more tired, nor less tired. Merely masking my sleepiness. I am likely to fall immediately unconscious as soon as I turn from this.

Mwahaha.

Bwahahahahahahahahaha!

I have done something devilish. Only one person will know what I have done. And that only on Thursday. But I have done something devilish indeed. But in a good way. And this way I have prevented myself from giving a gift to someone else that would really be a gift for me on Single's Awareness Day. That does, howe'er mean I have to sit on stuff for a couple of weeks. If I can. I am so very bad at getting gifts early, then not being able to wait. Oh well.

Man, I've written a lot today.

Oh, and I feel much better now. Caffiene. And this devilish thing. I sleep now, to wake in a few scant hours when Doug begins watching TV. Is it April yet? I miss having a room.

I will not fear.

Ah, Sarah Machlachlan. Songs from an era of a very more everyday kind of angst. Normal. You didn't have to be whiny and dressed in black to be unsure.

"So afraid to love you,
more afraid to lose.
Clinging to a past
that doesn't let me choose.
Where once there was a darkness,
a deep and endless night,
you gave me everything you had
oh, you gave me life."

See that? That song. No death metal. So whiny intonations. No forced imitations of Eddie Vedder. Just honest singing and poetic lyrics. But now, now on to Franz Ferdinand.

"Eyes burning a way to me.
Eyes destroying so sweetly.
Now there is a fire in me.
A fire that buuuuurrrrrrrns.

This fire is outta control
I'm gonna burn this city, burn this city
This fire is outta control
I'm gonna burn this city, burn this city
This fire is outta control
This fire is outta control
This fire is outta control, and I burn.

Eyes boring a way through me
Paralyzed
Controlling completely
Now, there is a fire in me
A fire that buuuuuuurrrrns

This fire is outta control
I'm gonna burn this city, burn this city
This fire is outta control
I'm gonna burn this city, burn this city
This fire is outta control
And I am outta control
And I burn, how I burn for you
Burn, oh how I burn for you
Burn, how I burn, how I burn, oh how I...

This fire is outta control
I'm gonna burn this city, burn this city
This fire is outta control
I'm gonna burn this city, burn this city
This fire is outta control
I'm gonna burn this city, burn this city
This fire is outta control
I'll burn it, burn it, burn down"

Winamp on random, I apologize. But oh how I burn for you, Holly. Love, fire, passion. Hooah. Nothing like the love a woman to turn a man's life around. All this started when I had a moment when some old bad memories resurfaced. Holly needed some alone time, having to be around people all the time all week. Which, while I whined a bit, I understood. Very cat-like, my love. But it brought up old bad memories, memories of being ignored and unwanted, even when right next to the person that, supposedly, loved me. Not that there isn't an entire history of me being tossed aside when no longer useful or when someone else will do what I can't or won't or don't know to do. It's very strange, having to be reassured that she's not "her." When she asked me whether or not I trusted her love, it causes me to turn and face the doubts. Why was I having them? What grounds did I have? I did tell her I loved her first, and some time before she told me. But she told me on her own. I hadn't mentioned it, hadn't prompted it. She came to me, afraid but honest, to tell me. What right do I have to doubt? What, in all the years of my past gives me that right? How dare I allow such corruptions to enter my mind? Why can't I pry myself away from the past? What exists there for me to hold so dear, to cling to so afraid? Aren't I supposed to be the strong one? How can I be strong for her if I can't let go of events from so long ago? How did I let the pain and hurt become such an influence, so commonplace in the very fibre of my being?

Or is this all just the effects of a lifelong disorder, the curse of my blood? I think it's passed now, now being 3:15AM. But it's no less frustrating to go through. *sigh* This is all going to get easier someday soon, right?

I must not fear. Fear is the mind killer. Fear is the little death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.

Ah, bitter melancholy.

Ah, lovely and beautiful chemical imbalance. How I had grown used to your glorious absence. And now you come back. For no reason. How you disgust me. You cause unsure thoughts, doubts, unhappy words to flow from my mind, from my mouth. And now my heart no longer yearns for the hatred needed to burn you away. I have a happiness I have not known in years. Love. Trust. Beauty. I have no need of the anger, of the hate. I defy the end you show me, the doubt you whisper into my heart. What I have now, I would risk that end. My love and my faith will see me through your clouded night. I have defied greater fates, denied greater evils than this. I was born though the defiance of this world's laws. I have lived through that which should have killed me. I am the rock. The storms can thunder and yell and scream, and still the rock remains. I am the mountain. Ths seas may throw themselves against me, and still I shall stand.

konrinzai arawasu yowami

Legendary Patience

Ah, the plight of [having] the theatre major girlfriend. On top of not getting to see Holly at all during the week, but weekends are soon becoming problematic. Seems her show is starting up, so she's got tech work during the weekend daytime hours. But it seems this show is a lot less tech heavy than her last show, "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory." And she's not the stage manager, she's just props master. But all the tech work requires her presence. So I get to see her after her tech days. And she's tired and sore. Insert Kiff sigh here. But I do take a little bit of satisfaction from knowing I giving good backrubs. Kiff sigh. Just not going to get any easier. At least not until I move up here full time in April. It was my fault, of course, that she got as tired as she did. My fault for bringing food for the hungry girlfriend. And she likes ribs. Who knew? And boy, did she eat. It was a spectacle only a boyfriend could love, I guess. But it's nice to know she enjoys food.

Valentine's Day is coming up. So of course I've got something special cooked up. Bwahaha. Of course, it's not as though I wouldn't do anything I've got planned for her anyway, it's just a convenient excuse to put a few of them together. Of course, the temptation to get a gift for her, that would really be a gift for me, is there. Though maybe I should scale back on the gift giving a smidge. If I do it every weekend, it loses some meaning.

[edited for clarity 17:07 01.30.05]

Grey Eyes

darkness and disaster

flames all around

destruction surrounds

a man stands

staring at the darkened earth

shield, armor, mace, cloak

all grey as the man

he looks up

sun sets in the cracks

old fallen walls

ancient relics

Age of Darkness resurrecting

his gaze remains

his eyes

drained of all color

nothing but ash

cold earth

cold skies

cold walls

he catches a scent

closes his eyes

breathes deeply

the smell of snow

he turns from the West

faces the graves

loved ones lost

he died with them

buried himself among

faces the icy wind

looks at the clouds above

no comfort comes

turns to the graves once more

remembers the failures

a past he can't forget

broken and cannot fly

he walks away

the wind flutters his cloak

a snow white feather

escapes from it's grey covering

a small white flake

floats to a rest

just below his eye

a small droplet

the last of his blue

falls from his grim face

impacts amongst the falling snow

Snow...

Ah, snow. How I have missed you. Falling purity. It would look very much peaceful, if the kids (aka. Bailey, the dog, and Ebony, the cat) weren't rough housing in front of the big ass window. Poem to follow, assuming I can find it. This could, however, cause problems in seeing Holly tonight. But Holly's theatre stuff might have an effect on that too. Argh. I need to live here already.

EDIT: So the poem isn't on this computer or on any of my 'net postings. Oh well. I'll post another one I wrote when it snowed some time ago.

Uh. Yeah. Um...

My previous post...

Normally, I internalize that sort of thing. But I had an outlet, so I let it out. There were a couple of messages in that. I don't really know who they were for. But they were for who they were for. If anyone was disturbed or frightened by it, I apologize. I could be a prophet. If so, some of that was God speaking through me. If I'm not a prophet, then I am mad, and you may ignore the ramblings of a madman.

So yeah.

Psycho Mode: Go

Experience, must be shared, have an outlet. Sometimes my mind does weird. Subconscious overlaps the conscious mind. Body, conscious mind are focused into this world only by force of will. The soul, it overlaps. Senses become...weird. More in tune with the ethereal. If I close my eyes, focus disappears, I am afloat. I can feel things, sense things. Spirits? Intentions? Where and when I cannot say, just things. Tonight, well this morning.

Just let it ride, man. Just let it ride.

Music. songs that play, rhythm of the ethereal. I can feel something. Something's just beyond the edges of my senses.

Holly, whatever happens, remember I love you. Something could happen. Armor's on, wings are out. Not to defend me. Defend who?

Just on the edge. Knows it's just on the edge. Taunting teasing.

I am a Servant of of the Most High God. Prophet and monster. Bastard and saint. I have put my blessings here. You have no power, nor ye servants nor the one ye serve. Begone.

Let it ride, let it ride.

There. The Song. The Word in Song. Let it be heard!

And I stretch out my wings and look to the heavens and cry out. My time has come.

Flow. Flow the futre. This is the path I choose. This is the path. This is the kindest fate I can offer. This the gentle gift. I will live and even die by this choice. I will not rescind it.

You see the Blade. You fear my Blade. You can see the Wrath contained therein. The punishment of 2000 years of stayed judgement. The wages of sin is death. Death is my Blade. I am the Left Hand. I can be the Instrument of Wrath. It is your hand that will stay my Blade. Or it will be your hand that will draw it. If you cause my Blade to be drawn, there will be visited upon your House, upon your Kind their Judgement. Wrath. I serve the LORD, the God of the Flood, the God of the Fires of Sodom and Gomorrah. I serve the God of the Plagues of Egypt. I serve the Pillar of Fire in the desert. He has sent his Son to pay for your sins. You mock His mercy. You can hide, slink about. I see you. You will not interfere. You will remain in your shadows, wringing your hands, muttering your conspiracies. What I protect, God protects. I bind you. In the Name of the LORD, YHWH, I bind you here. And as I bind on this earth, so do I bind in the next. You have no power here. Begone from me.

Flow flow, future, flow. Ride the wave, let it flow. SODEC. Sensory Overload/Depravation Emotive Catalyst. Let it flow! Got the life.

Stretch the wings and cry out in rage against the night. Roar the mighty earth, the mountain.

I am the Kwisatz Haderach.

Trust in my self-righteous suicide. I cry, when angels deserve to die.

Organisational Skills

I got da skilz, yo. Er. Okay, maybe not. Instead, given my OC nature, I have decided to use my heretofore unused LiveJournal account to post any writings, prose or verse, I concoct, whilst leaving the blogger account for personal reflections. Although, I will post links here if I concoct something for mass consumption. Which I will do right now! If you go here I have for you a snippet of story. I should post the bit of that story I have in completed and coherent form at some point. Better idea! I'll delay posting this so I can post the introduction! One moment...


Or maybe I won't. Because it's not on this computer. Unless Holly has it.


Or if the copy of it that I put in my website's files still exists. Which it does.


So go here for the introduction.

Okay! Okay!

I'll stop tampering in powers beyond my comprehension! I'm growing the goatee back! Sheesh! Though, to be fair, the only people that seemed to notice are those responsible for making my day suck. Seems that a goatee is the perfect disguise somehow. So it's coming back. I've had nothing but sucktastic fun since I shaved it off a few days ago.

Though today's unpleasantness inspired some much needed introspection. Seems I have a bit of naivete floating about my brain. Still, and after all these years and all I've been through. See, Holly and I had a minor tiff this morning. Very minor. And it was my fault. But there was a certain reality quotient I had been blatantly ignoring. As is my wont, of course. See, guys like me, we can't exist in the "real world." The "real world" doesn't allow for heroes and romantics; dreamers and idealists. So called "reality" doesn't have happy endings or fairy tale magic. No supernatural, no Destiny, not even cold and unfeeling Doom. How can I exist in such a world, when I am so many things not of it? Bah, it is of little import. But still I deny you, Reality. You are the lie, I live the Truth. Or something. Back on track, though, the tiff somehow brought Holly and I out of the fairy tale picture, into something slightly more real to life. A tiff! Irritability! Heavens no! The poor start of the day bent more towards melodrama. Even if the poor start was my fault. I know better, and did anyway. I'm supposed to be better than that. I'm not supposed to have human fallibility. That one mistake has killed the whole image I was trying to make. Or something. Yeah.

*sigh*

No more melodrama. Melodrama is for livejournal. Sorry, Holly, couldn't help the LJ crack, but you've agreed with me on that one. The prophet longs for his own bed, and misses his lover.

Clean-Cut

So sleep evaded me this night. Before I knew it, the clock was glaring at me, screaming it's "7:16" at me, tauntingly. So after about 30 minutes of failed attempts to sleep, I finally gave up and hit the shower. And I shaved. No more goatee. Even trimmed the sideburns up. Now I appear younger; I fear the carding tonight. But on the plus side, I can see clearly my slowing tightening jaw line, and my cleft chin also has much less the fat in it, which I could not see having the facial hair.

Which leads into an interesting observation I had made some time ago. My goatee had at the very least four different colors of hair in it. The bottom of my chin was occupied by a prominent auburn, slowly fading to an ashen blonde. Just under my lip was pale, pale blonde. My mustache was golden blond with ash brown slowing growing in. All the rest of my facial hair was the same medium ash brown with hidden red undertones that the rest of my head enjoys. My face, the calico.

But no more. I am now Clean Cut Safe Nice Guy Man! Now with anti-typical Fierce Gaze! Bonus feature: Ashen Blue Eyes! Sorry, but this model is currently SOLD OUT! We are not likely to restock, as this is a one of a kind item. Sorry, prototypes cannot be duplicated.

New toys! Yay!

So I'm buying Hugh's old laptop. 1.9 Ghz P4, 512MB RAM (plan to upgrade when it's convenient. I like lots of RAM.), 40 GB hard drive, 3 USB + 1 firewire ports, integrated ethernet. But the main thing is that it's portable! I have a laptop again! Yay! She has informed me that her name is Luthien. Or at least that's what I can call her. I name my gadgets. One of the many things that makes me the Kwisatz Haderach of geeks. And I've spent the majority of the evening, and into the night, configuring and updating and installing to my tastes. I was able to do this because work was sooooooooooo sloooooooow. They had us working in shipping. To finish up the work left over from first shift. They didn't even call in most of second shift. At all. I was out of there at 8:40PM. Short some hours this week, but I was able to have a modicum of an evening not at work during the week. Which was much worth it. Luthien's not entirely done, but servicable until I get more software over from Skywarp. Hopefully I'll be able to upgrade Skywarp, my desktop PC for those of you keeping score at home, around the time I move. Which I think I'll be able to do with little problem. Seems they fired about five people at the K-Mart distribution center, so once my temporary assignment is over, I'm likely to be hired on full. Though we'll see how I'm liking the job by that point. I don't get to see Holly at all during the week, so I might see about a job with slightly more daylight hours. But that might wait until I actually live here in Greensboro. Wait. I should probably tell you that I'm reporting live from Chris' living room on Luthien. So now you know. Yay! I wanted to antagonise someone, but the idea makes me wearied. It's funny when you'd rather ignore someone than taunt them because in taunting, I'd have to interact with her. Heh. No rest for the wicked. No rest for the wicked. Feeling tired, Babylon?

I think I'm done.

Woman Reclining with Book

hair soft, thick tresses
rich, brown, warm
hints of sun in highlights
my fingers glide smoothly
a handful of silk
and then again
subtle scents
clean, fresh bathed
aroma of fruits
a gentle kiss
atop the silken threads
barely nidding upward
soft responce
reading, you laugh
warm, genuine
I smile to hear it
stopping to look up at me
you smile then back
again to the book
I wonder at my fortune
to be loved as I am
fondly recall the method
the kiss you employed
to wake me from my sleep
looking down, I take you in
inhaling your vision with my eyes
your shirt, riding slightly high
soft skin exposed
slightest tones of tan
the hip, favored above all places
save one
to place my hand upon
following the gentle curve
to shadow
jeans, not quite tight
tempting space
the shadow 'tween flesh and garment
calling my fingertips
come. explore.
see where the boundaries lay.
alas, another day for that
my time is growing short
long slender legs
flowing forth from those
most perfect of buttox
would that I could spend
my day here with you
lounging lazily with my love
but for now I must go
soft kiss and parting words
I love and I'll miss you
at least, until we meet again

Best Monday Ever

Or at least in a while. Certainly the best Monday of the year, but that's not saying a whole lot. It all started with the waking up. I spent the night with Holly, having come up early in the evening Sunday. Wait, allow me to back track a bit. So it was a three day weekend for college students, no classes Monday. Originally, Holly was going to come down, and we'd go out for a bite, have a nice evening together. But since she didn't have classes on Monday, it all worked out kinda well for me to come up, spend the night Sunday, go to work. Anyway, she woke up around 10 or so, and I wasn't ready to get up just yet so I asked her if she wouldn't mind waking me up around 1 or so. So I fall almost immediately back to sleep. Amazing how not having a mattress of your own (yet) can make Holly's rather unimpressive mattress very comfy. But 1:30-ish rolls around. I feel a sudden increase in weight on the mattress when Bam! Lips. On mine. With tongue. Wow. Just...wow. That's the way to be stirred from slumber right there. Have I mentioned how much I love this girl lately? So that's just the start of the day. After cleaning up and getting dressed, I inquire as to the foodstuffs of her apartment, when, out of nowhere (ok, actually, out of the kitchen, but unlooked for) her roommate Angie(spelling unsure) pipes in with "I'm making egg salad if you want some." How cool is that? Angie had just met me the day before, but was offering food. So of course I thanked her profusely and whole heartedly. She was apparently also making some cinnamon pastries of some kind which she offered up as well. Which were right tasty too. Holly's new apartment is a pretty cool little place. Hardwood floors, 60's feel. College apartments, true, but well kept. At least, theirs is. Anyway. So eventually it's off to work. One of my co-workers brought in some spaghetti with home spun recipe sauce with meatballs and italian sausage. And had enough for four. So she spread it about. It was damn good stuff. And then to Chris' after work. With crock-pot cooked beef stew! Yay! And there was enough left over for Chris and I to both take a bowl with us to work for lunch. Score! Work continues to be slow moving ease and laziness. Even the harder working positions that I would get if hired on as a regular instead of temporary aren't hard. And I'd get paid more for them anyway. The only downside is my second shift work schedule and Holly's early morning class schedule means I don't get to see her at all during the week. I see a lot of her, or at least as much of her as I can, during the weekends, but eventually I'm going to have to find a job more in the daytime hours. With daytime hours, I could work Saturdays, where I'm not going to work a Saturday at my current job. I need my evenings on weekends. They keep me reasonably sane. Work is good for one thing. I wrote some poems in some down time. Both, of course, of the romantic nature and, of course, inspired by and about Holly. I'll share one in the next post. The other, well, the second I keep for her eyes.

Confidence? What?

As many will attest, I've not been the most confident of persons in my life. The last six or so months have seen a bit of a change in this, coming into my own and out of the angsty, insecure years of the teen and recovering from my tour of duty in Babylon. And while I am more confident, it's all been about me, who I am, what I can do. The mind and soul, and, to an extent, physical capability, but never really about my appearance. It continues to boggle my mind that someone like Holly could love and desire me. Then I took a lookin the mirror just now. It starts to become a little clearer. The flab under my chin, I noticed, has shrunk considerably. A recent haircut, cleaning up the overal appearance of my face, my goatee coming in full now, not patchy as when I first started growing it. The rest of me is starting to slim up again. Around November I noticed I could wear 36 waist pants again, and XL shirts instead of XXL. And my new job affords me even less changes to overindulge the appetite, followed by a whole lot of walking. Though I still need to find ways to adds fruits and vegetables into my day. So yeah. I'm starting to look alright. Cheekbones appearing in the fading fat of my face. My jawline strong, square, defined. Urrah. I don't know as I'll ever leap to sports car, though. I kinda like the luxury model appeal. Of course, luxury cars often have powerful engines and fine-tuned performance. Just more plush. Less muscle, more class. I can deal with class. I was bred for class.

And speaking of the Great Babylon, the strangest thing happened the other day. It seems, to know one's shock, that she and Sam have parted ways. She claims he changed for no reason, becoming jealous and "masculine, when he's really quite feminine." Yeah. I have a feeling her six-month warranty on fidelity ran out, and she ran out with it. There'd be no rumors of infidelity if she didn't have a history of it, and if she didn't play the part. If it looks like a duck and quacks like a duck... But anyway. She swore to never speak to me again after I told her that the smell of her pissed me off, thus I can be courteous online, but a bastard in person. Then, lo and behold, she messages me. Oh delicious irony. Suddenly, there's not a man in her life for her to control. So she comes calling upon the Old Standby. Only the Old Standby long since left the post. The girl I fell for doesn't exist anymore. But of course, she can't understand that. If only she knew how little she knows, see, understands. Bene Gesserit tricks won't work on me. Of course, when I told her this, she thought I assumed she was coming to me for companionship of the romantic sort. Which while I did, she played it off as though she wasn't. Which was a lie, but the girl long since lost the ability to tell the truth. So I smile at her misfortune. I smile, not for the misfortune, but the justice of it. She has no one because she's driven us all away. Those of us who would have been by her for a lifetime, she drove off with her cruelty, infidelity, her lies. And here I am, at the best I've ever been. She could have been a part of that, but she couldn't stick it out. Instead, she grows fatter, meaner, more false. I become more true, more fit, more righteous. I reject you, Great Whore. I've done my tour of duty. What I have now, in it's humble and fragile beginnings is far greater than you could have ever been. Holly is everything you refused to be. Giving, patient, loving, willing to change, willing to risk, willing to try, willing to follow, beautiful, soft.

"And what have we learned?" "She smells good?" "No!" Ah, subtle scents left behind in the cloth.

Wait, what was I talking about? Ah, yes. Mocking the misfortune of the one person who deserves it. Wallow in your loneliness, rattle the bars of your self-made prison, lamenting in your ignorance of its constructor. We cut ourselves free of you long ago. You cannot now claim to be cutting ties with the past. You rejected your past, and we have rejected you in kind. You have no future. A life of low end work living with your mother. Do I now reside in my mother's basement? Yes, but this adds to the power of the Kwisatz Haderach of Geeks. But in three months time I will be living in an awesome place with real friends in the city where lives the girl I love. Three months. Three! A scant 90 days! I have crossed the valley and see the path of the future before me. The sleeper has awakened. I am the Kwisatz Haderach, you are nothing. Live your lies, Bene Gesserit witch. Wallow in your weakness and call it strength. You have no power here. Satan, get thee behind me. Your staff is broken, your Voice is gone. Not even Shai-Hulud would take your water. Return the the pits that spawned you and trouble me no more.

Life is Good.

2005, the year of the Kwisatz Haderach of Geeks. My year. I'm making money. Actually, I'm making more than I, technically, need so I'm getting ahead, even saving back a little. My girlfriend is beautiful, sweet, enthusiastic, and she loves me. She called me while I was at work, so I go on break and find a voice message from her. Seems she caught a glimpse of the moon, and, in that sight, she thought of me. And she called to let me know that. Am I not truly blessed? Yesterday also saw inspiration in my moments of down time. God didst speak unto me, and I did listen. He wants me to write, so I am formulating a letter, much like the letters of the New Testament of the bible. My train of thought also lead me to envision some campaign speeches if I ever run for any kind of federal office.

Also, the Dune series of books are really good. I had heard iffy things of the rest of the books after Dune, but Dune Messiah was excellent, and Children of Dune is also very good. I need to go out and buy more of the books when I get the chance.

Also, I think I have a hickey.

Booya.

A Better Day

My apologies, Holly, but some things I have to share.

Friday night, I'm making my way back to Sgt. Jones' Half-Way House for Wayward Workers, and I find that I have missed several phone calls while at work. Six to be exact. Those changes I mentioned? It seems she's willing to make them. Or at least try. She apologized, a rarity for me when I get hurt in a relationship. She thought she had lost me, even as a friend, forever. I didn't then, and don't really now, have the heart to tell her how close she came. But she didn't. I was waiting for her to make the next move, and she made it. She told me she loved me. On her own. She told me right then on the phone. She wanted to say it in person, but she had me listening right then, and she was afriad she'd lose the courage to say it later. She said she'd rather leap into things a little sooner than maybe she felt ready for, than lose me. So we're giving it a shot. She's made that big, scary first step. The rest is small stuff. So needless to say, I'm a pretty happy guy right now. And from what I hear, my good buddy John is having a fantastic new year with Lenore. And if anyone deserves it, he does.

Work. My goodness. I get paid $9 and hour. To count boxes. And half the time I have to wait to be able to do that. Friday was the worst so far. I did no work for the first two hours. I couldn't. I had to wait on the repack crew to start their work before I could even hope to do mine. And they didn't start until 5:30. And I got there at 3:30. I finished at 8:00. But I still had to do a lot of waiting around. After 8:00, I did someone else's work until about 10:30. Then break. Then sitting around until midnight. Because our supervisor left around 10:00. And told us to clock out at 12:00. So we did. So easy the job. And I get my first paycheck this week. Yay!

So the mess is behind. Blue skies ahead. And a beautiful girl willing to work to be with me. And Holly, I know it might sound like I'm asking a lot, and I kinda am. But I can promise it will be worth it. And as I said, I'm right here beside you through it all.

This way, it's poetry.

Why is it, that the girls I find, the girls all around me...the girls I fall in love with...none of them want to be with a guy like me. It seems I greatly underestimated exactly why everyone was so mad at Holly this past weekend. And now I know why. And it hurts. Finally meet someone, someone new even. On the surface it all clicks, AND she's beautiful. But it's always the same song. Some song, new girl. New girl, new verse. Repeat chorus. Ne fides. Ne fides ad infinitum. At least, no faithfulness for me, anyway. Nope. Not for the one person you could bet your life savings on to always be faithful. Not the person who was willing to be patient and understanding. Not the person loved so readily, so easily, so freely. It is not I who finds the faithful girl who is willing to trust my guidance. No. Not for Justin. Not this time. Not ever before.

I'm just tired of it. Tired of how long I spent under Anglee's spell. Tired of how long it took getting over that. Alone. Tired of being alone. I was so close. So very close. Am I surprised? I wish I was. I wish I felt worse about it that I do. And that's the saddest part of it all. I'm not even really mad at her. I'm mad at Fate. Fate who constantly torments me. Mad at Destiny for letting me down. I prayed for this. Prayed that it was finally time for me to find someone else, someone to love. Someone to love me. And yet I was denied love once again.

I saw this end. I did. Not as brilliantly and flagrantly did it present itself in my mind as it did before I dated Anglee. But I knew this was the ending that would happen. I didn't expect it this soon. But I did it anyway. Like I do so often in the realm of romance. I knew it would end poorly. But I wanted to love again. I wanted romance and caresses, stirrings and soft words again. I wanted them with her. But it's not going to happen. Not unless something exceedingly drastic happens on her end. And it might. I don't expect it. She could change. Be a responsible person.

And, just for the record, Holly, you can be responsible without having to "grow up." I didn't ever ask you to grow up. I didn't ask for maturity. All I asked for was trust. For you to trust me and for me to be able to trust you. I am mad. I am hurt. But what I said last night, you know, that part were I said I love you? Yeah. The reason it all hurts as it does it because of that. I don't think I can be your friend for a while. Not till this scabs over. Luckily, you haven't had a whole lot of time or inclination to dig too deep, so the wounds should heal soon.

And the saddest part of this whole ordeal is that I'm not going to walk away from this with any kind of life lesson or adjustment in my approach. I'm going to love the way I always have, and that's not going to change. So whoever is next, here's my warning. I don't love half-assed. It's big. It's intense. But it's safe, it's loyal, it's protective and supportive. Most of the time it's poetical, sometimes it's goofy.

So fucking tired of the whole God damn mess.

The Dual Nature of the Blog

It interesting having an audience. At least, one as small, and generally known, as the one I seem to have. It's weird, really, the nature of the journal, especially one online. Strangers, I don't mind reading my thoughts online at all. And for the most part, I don't mind those close to me reading my thoughts, which is why I, in general, speak freely here. But here recently, there's been things I've wanted to write on, to express my feelings on, but have been reluctant to put down in a public space. Which presents an interesting quandry. Is it right to have thoughts and feelings you want to keep from someone, for whatever reason, be it good or bad. Especially if this person is very, and truly dear to you. Of course, the thing I wish to comment on is of a negative nature. And even in the relative comfort, freedom, and anonymity of the blog format, I don't like to very openly express negative emotion, instead internalizing and ingesting it as one would a bitter medicine or slow poison. All because I know she reads this. But I need to get it out, out and in the open. And since I've already talked to her, maybe I can, and I think I will. And I've had a couple of days to think about it, so with time come temperance. I hope.

To catch up the one or two people who weren't at Phil's party to bear witness, Holly and I have reached a bit of an empass, a fork, a critical point. Holly, from time to time, gets into funks. Ruts. "Weird moods" she calls them. And she was in one Friday night. I may have been a bit selfish in talking to her. She didn't really want to go out at all, much less travel all the way to Huntersville from Greensboro. I told her that it was ok if she didn't want to go. But I don't know if I meant it. I didn't get to see her near as much as I wanted to over the holidays, and I'd had to watch my brother and his girlfriend being...disgustingly cute. For three days straight did I bear witness to this. So there's my mood and her mood going in. I had expected, accepted and anticipated her being a little cold shouldery, cut off and pulled away from me. It went a little farther than that, though. Which is where the whole mess came from. It seems we weren't on the same page. At all. I thought there was something mutually exclusive going on. It seems there wasn't. Not entirely at least. Those who were there know the details, and if you weren't there, I apologise, bit I'm not going to go into it. While I know there wasn't any kind of fooling around happening, there was someone who she snuggled up to, and it wasn't me. It was a married guy 10 years or so my senior. She was inside the whole time, I was outside. Mainly because I couldn't go inside. Couldn't go inside and see her there not with me. Some people might say I have no right to jealousy. In her eyes, we were not dating, or so it seems. But she's the girl I like. So of course I'm going to become jealous if she's with someone else. And even if I can control the expression and release of the emotion, it's still an ugly emotion and it was still being felt. And I still feel cheated, slighted. I know she wasn't altogether in her right mind. I know she was drunk. But that only goes so far in the realm of excuse and pardon. Mixed signals. Argh. But that whole night. For many hours. So many people kept coming up to me. Telling me how I didn't deserve that kind of treatment. Telling me how mad at her they were. How ready to jump up and tear her a new one they where. And every time, I came to her defense. And no one acted, not a one of them spoke, because they knew I didn't want them to. Because they knew that if it came down to it, I would physically fight to keep them from doing it. Chris equated it to a stand off in a dry western street at high noon. On the one side Chris, and everyone else behind, itching for their guns. And that's a lot of guns. And on the other side, me. The only thing between their wrath and her was me. And she had no knowledge of the whole mess. Like me standing outside her door, the others the angry peasant mob, torches and everything. But that's me. The Last White Knight. I still feel the way I feel. And it is love. As I explained as clear as I could, I fall in love so very easily. And always in a terrible and fantastic way. Never small. Meteor crashing into the earth on top of a train wreck, followed by a plane wreck on top of the meteor, and then the whole mess gets struck by lightning. And it takes a while to recover from that kind of blunt force emotion. If recover is the right word. Nothing I feel is small of subtle. My emotions tend towards large and loud and intense, sometimes to a disturbing level. But I have a mind, a very analytical mind. Or at least a part enough of my mind. I can turn inward and ask the questions and analyze the thoughts. Introspection. It's one of my oldest skills.

Which I would like to comment on. My friends. I love you all dearly. However, a lot of the advice you give, or thoughts you share I have thought or acknowledged or understood long before you say anything. However, I implore to keep telling me anyway. Because every once in a while, I need to hear it from someone else before it sticks. But anyway.

I still love her, because I still believe she deserves every bit of my love and patience. But I was still hurt. And it was an ancient, and wholly familar hurt. Which, sadly, is probably why I was able to take it as well as I did. I am, unfortunately, used to that particular hurt. Used to the feeling that I'd been cheated on. But at the same time, while I thought I was, in the moment it happened, I realised she didn't see us as an "us" but a me and her. And from that context, there wasn't an infidelity, as there was no relationship to be faithful to. At least objectively. Although Joe's situation is a little different. As he's married. It's a mess. A mess of miscommunication. I haved asked specifically whether or not we were dating. I had assumed that the progression of events denoted the relationship becoming exclusive. And I was wrong. It's not often that my instincts are wrong. But when they are, it's almost always in a romantic situation.

I want this to work. I know I can be good to her, good for her. And being good to and for someone else is good for me. She's beautiful. Tall, slender, playful eyes, and soft skin. Long legs that whisper to my hands. And this perfect toosh, the exact combination or firm and soft. A whimsical disarming smile. A sensuous alto, which so richly conveys any emotion, be it mischief, happiness, anger, sadness, passion. A very soft touch. Calming and stirring simultaneously. And through that shines her mind and heart and soul. Which lends a certain melancholy, a tragic, sad beauty. An almost fae sense of beauty; ethereal, otherworldly, enchanting. She's a roleplayer. She's into video games, anime, sci-fi, fantasy. She's not perfect. No one is, though. And, although I don't know if she knows that I know, or can accept that I know, I do know. I know what her "weird moods" are. I know where they come from. I know what they feel like. I know because I get them. I've fought and struggled against them for nearly ten years, and will for the rest of my life. I also know because I'm an empath. I feel what she feels, if only a little bit. And what I feel, well...if it looks like a duck, and quacks like a duck... Those walls she's got built up around her are high and thick. But I love her all the same.

Holly, if you read this before we talk again, pay attention. Read and know and understand. I do love you. You are dear to me. Your happiness is paramount to me. But what happened hurt. I let myself be open to that. It was my misunderstanding of the situation. To some extent. But even if I knew there was not an agreement of mutual exclusion, I would have still been hurt. It's a normal reaction when anyone, especially a guy, sees the girl they like, that they want to be with, choosing to be with someone else, especially when they're in the same place. And in the words of Billy Joel, I have been a fool for lesser things. In fact, listen to or read the lyrics to Billy Joel's song "For the Longest Time." That really sums it all up. Was I hurt? Yes. Will I get over it? Yes. I am getting over it. Maybe by tomorrow I will have gotten over it completely. I believe that you could be a supporting partner, a worthwhile companion, and an amazing lover. I see this in you, but I see also that you keep yourself bound. And you don't need to. Maybe some part of me are similar to other guys from your past. But I'm not those guys, no matter how similar I might seem. I am like no one else you've ever met. I won't hurt you. I am patient. I am strong. I can carry you though the rough times, and I can dance with you in the joyous times. I want to show you the better way. A way you've never been shown before. And I want to. More than anything in my life right now, I want to show you, and share with you that better way. I want you in my life. For better or worse, I want to share this life with you for as long as you or fate or God will allow.

Now. For the rest of you. Be nice. If you aren't nice, well, I quote for you Stevie Ray Vaughn. Chris. "Yeah I love my baby, she's long and lean. You mess with her, you'll see a man get mean."

Hangover the First

So I had my first hangover yesterday. Not near as bad as the stereotype seems to be, and I also have a massive dose of sleep deprivation added on top. Though I think I have learned the valuable lesson of not mixing liquor, especially 16 year old single malt scotch (gads was that some tasty stuff), with any other type of alcohol. Up to and including, but not limited to, an entire bottle of wine. It was good wine, though. Local to my hometown, the vineyard is. Which is why I didn't notice I was drinking as much as I was.

Ah, but New Year's Eve. It all added up to a learning experience. Also, it seems that somehow Chris and I became the "cool kids" of the Royal Court. Not so shocking to discover Chris is, though. But I had always thought of myself as being part of Chris's "crew" in the social dynamics, not so much the way it seems to be. Seems it's not "Chris and his friends" are the cool kids, but "Chris and Justin." What the heck? Where did I go wrong? Cool kid? What? But when nearly everyone comes up to me to tell me what a great guy I am and how I deserve so much better, well, it was just weird. But not once did I fail to defend the supposed offender and undeserving. It served a purpose, though. There's a conversation that's really been needing to be had for a while, but I didn't want to have it. Enjoying things too much to want to bring it down with serious talk and heavy words. Overall, and despite what could have been a glaring thorn in the side of enjoyment, I had a good time overall. And, as I expected, the morning after saw a return to "normality."

Swag and Work

So, um, Christmas was good to me. Crazy ridiculously good. Gamecube with Windwaker and LOTR: Third Age; Star Wars Original Trilogy on DVD, Farscape Season 1, Kill Bill vol. 2, and Equilibrium; Clothes, as was expected; Franz Ferdinand, as previously mentioned, as well as a Johnny Cash Christmas album; Lego Millenium Falcon, Darth Vader, Storm Trooper, and Super Battle Droid; and a cell phone, which is the most useful of the things I got, by and far; two bottle of wine (yum-yum, yummy wine); and that's all I can think of at the moment.

Also, I have a job. Picker/puller for the K-Mart distribution center in Greensboro. $9/hr, required overtime, second shift. Not terribly exciting, but it's work.

Further note: hate the speed of mail and packages during the holidays. Rah.

This Fffire

This fire is outta control!
Gonna burn this city, burn this city!

So Hugh gets mad props for getting me Franz Ferdinand (the version with the bonus disc) for Christmas. They rock it hard. And they're 'modern,' which is truly odd. I don't tend to like 'new' music. But Franz Ferdinand rocks out. And they get crazy bonus points for naming their band after the man whose assassination started the First World War.

Merry Christmas

I'm of the age that's squarely between any age that appreciates Christmas specials and movies. Too old to be excited about watching Rudolph or Miracle on 34th Street. And far too young to be nostalgic for the feeling that one gets when watching It's a Wonderful Life as one gets older. Which, when thought about, saddens me a little bit. To be annoyed by the innundation of old movies, new movies, remakes, etc. Though I think TBS's 24 hours of A Christmas Story is a crime against humanity no matter how you slice it. It's just a bad movie. But it's Christmas. Or at least it will be by the time this thing is posted. I wish everyone a Merry Christmas. And if you are offended by me wishing you a Merry Christmas instead of a Happy Holidays (as John Scalzi put it, let's look at the etymology. Holiday = holy + day. Move on.) or Season's Greetings, you're missing the point. And I won't much care, really. I'm going to have a most excellent day tomorrow, eating too much, spending time with a rather large (and extended) family that is close and loving. So fie on you Scrooges and Grinches.

And God bless us, everyone.

Christmas Wishes

Christmas hasn't been simple since my 12th, back in '94. Then came separation of the parents. Then I was a teenager. Then just a bunch of...stuff. Mess, really. Doesn't look like this year's going to be any different. The whole mess with the parents has been as settled as it's going to get for this year. Christmas Eve here, and thusly also Christmas morning. Christmas lunch with my dad's mother, then to my dad's that evening. Then off to Bristol for Christmas with my mom's family on the 26th from Hickory. Alas, but both I will not be able to see Holly again until after I get back from Bristol on the 28th, but that works out for the best. The USPS was, even for this season, retardly slow is getting payment for Holly's present to the business from which the purchases came. 10 days! 10! For envelopes going to Texas and Tennessee! From North Carolina! WTF?! So I'm looking to get them in next week very early. Oh well. What can you do? I have Midnight Mass to look forward to, which is one of my little personal holiday traditions. Very beautiful service, if you go in for that sort of thing. But old languages, tradtional hymns and centuries old rituals are right up my alley. I'm happy. I really am. These last couple of days, I've been a little tired, head a little sore. So I apologize if I've been a bit impatient and snappy. Despite a little hiccup in the plan here or there, life is good. It'd be great, but the world puts a far greater concern and importance on money than I do, but thus is the world, I suppose.

Anyway, I'm going to be far, far too busy to blog tomorrow, and I'll be separated from the internet (nnnoooooooooo!) for the majority of the next few days, so no blogs until after Christmas. I know my three member audience will weep for their loss, but my heart is hardened to their tears. Nay, indeed it lives for the salty sweetness of their embittered grief! Or, um...yeah. Stuff.

Ego te amo, mea carissime, mea Holly.

All Hail Largo!

So Megatokyo was very funny today. Largo speaks to the heart of why I loathe Gateway, Dell and the like. There's something special about a custom built, hand forged box. It is the essence of l33t.

In other news, Holly came over. So yay me. :D

Family squabble! Yum!

Ah, the wonder that is the divorced parentage. Years pass, and you think it's finally over and done with. Then come the holidays, ever the massive heap of unpleasant baggage. As part of the child support agreement between my parents, my father was supposed to be allowed to have us, his children every other Christmas. Thus far, this has not happened. Once. Since 1995. This year, it seems my brother and sister want to go to Dad's for Christmas Eve, coming by our house here for Christmas with my mother, and then Christmas with Dad's mother, then leaving the 26th for my mother's mother's. If it's done this way, two things will happen. First, I'll get stuck having to go to Randy's sister's for Christmas with Randy's family. I can at least tolerate most of Randy's family, except his sister Cathy, who tends towards pushy bossy, and even more so when drinking wine. Which she always does. To excess. And secondly, my mom will spend the most of Christmas crying. Because my dad will have put his foot down about this whole Christmas thing, and there would have been a lot of crap floating about the house in the form of negative emotions. And I don't want to do that. Which I actually find somewhat odd. I tend to favor my dad to my mom in most things. But she's still my mother. I have no desire to have caused her to cry on Christmas morning. I'd much rather spend Christmas Eve here and Christmas day with my dad. That seems the best thing overall. Plus, if I'm here for Christmas Eve, I can go to Midnight Mass, as I have since my senior year in High School. I think this will be the fifth year running. It's becoming a little tradtion for me. Also, I don't know when I'll be able to "do Christmas" with Holly. I just don't like the circumstances. Next year it won't matter so much, as I will be living in Greensboro. Then I'll be able to remove myself from the mess.

In a much more minor note, Jerod's trying to turn me, or through me, Holly, into the antagonist because of Megan's "schedule" to be able to roleplay. Because I didn't call Holly at his command to figure out when Holly will be getting home on Wednesday, he's trying to make so she doesn't get to play because he wants Megan, his girlfriend, to play tomorrow. To which I replied, and I meant it, that if he's going to pull that and force playing to happen when Holly won't even be there, so his girlfriend can start playing, where mine's already been playing, I won't play either. Because he's being an ass about it. And I mean it. If he's going to force my hand, I'll take my cleric and leave. That'd be no cleric, no mage, and Shaun killed his NPC off last session, albeit valiently and nobly, because more people were joining in for the next session. I'm not going to willingly exclude Holly so Megan, or anyone else for that matter, can play. I've excluded a girlfriend before, but The Great Whore of Babylon was a terrible roleplayer, and no one likes playing with her. Holly's been roleplaying almost as long as I have, and know how to play with a party. Megan I don't think has ever played before. It's stupid. And I think I'm done venting now.

I miss my girlfriend.

Untitled, Dec. 20th

It appears I have been neglecting my little blog here the past few days. Haven't really felt a need to vent anything I suppose. The last few days have been quite pleasant, really. We'll start with Wednesday.

Wednesday - Started by hitting up a temp agency and, apparently, being impressive. Then picked up the Sgt. jones from his teaching job, and being treated as VIP, given my status as Captain of the Royal Guard at the Carolina Renaissance Festival. Which is kinda crazy, but the kids, middle school kids, looked sharp. Then back for my appointment at the temp agency, scored for the same afternoon due to my overwhelming impressiveness. Paperwork and tests later, and it's 5PM. Which means I couldn't call Holly to make some plans (she turned 21 Wednesday), but I was able to hang out for a while. She actually invited me to play in the Hackmaster game that was going on, which was touching. She was being very sweet. She didn't want me to go, but I felt like I was intruding, so I left about 7PM. Wednesday ended.

Thursday - Woke up and showered and was ready for lunch with Holly, set up the day before. She got pulled for speeding, but didn't get a ticket. So, yay me, I got to be all comforting. She liked her birthday present, Inu Yasha episodes 1-126, but, as I expected, thought it was too much, but not in an offended kind of way, just a "she's not used to this kind of treatment" kind of way. Which makes me smile, being able to show her this better way. After a moment she leaned up and kissed me. Lunch was pleasant, if a little late, and she got to make a character for Shaun's D&D campaign. More sweetness and cuddling and a long good bye.

Friday - Woke up, did some cleaning, and Holly came over around 4:30, finished her character, and we headed out to the Rummage's to roleplay. Played until about 1, which was crazy, but we all had fun. She was cuddly and sweet. It's a sad state when I am used to not receiving affection, and am surprised by it in a relationship, but it makes me thankful for even the littlest of kindnesses. One really long goodbye and it was the end of the third day.

Saturday - Headed out to my dad's in Hickory for Christmas with my grandfather, so yay warm family pleasantness. Played a whole lot of Halo with ma familia and Jenna's boyfriend Tyler. Seems like a nice guy. Came back, tidied again. talked with Holly a little bit.

Sunday - Kinda blurry, really. I remember Holly calling to tell me she was running too late to stop by on her way to her grandmother's in Chapel Hill (What? I'm getting called? Whoa!) but there were pleasant and encouraging words. Her grandfather's got Alzheimer's and hardly remembers anyone, which is hard on her and her family. I wish I could be there with her, but I'll be here when she gets back. It started to flurry a bit, so I called her again, to see if it was snowing there. It wasn't, of course, but I got to talk to her for a little bit at least.

Today - Had lunch with my brother, Hugh, Tony(cousin), and our friend Nick, who was visiting from Tennessee. Then we all gathered back at my house for a ridiculous amount of 6 player Halo on two TV's over the LAN. It was all quite very sweet, and that's where we are right now!

I hope Holly's Christmas present hurries up. I have a feeling it will get here in time for Christmas, but I am anxious. Which reminds me. I need to check the mail. Peace out.

Ha-HA! The day is mine!

That is all.

thank you darrell hammond

Colossal Death Robot! Go!

Which Colossal Death Robot Are You?
Brought to you by Rum and Monkey

"You are Optimus Prime!

Vast, red and ready to turn into a lorry at the slightest provocation, you are a robot to be reckoned with. Although sickeningly noble, you just can't resist a good interplanetary war, especially when Orson Welles is involved. You have friends who can shoot tapes from their chests. Tapes that turn into panthers. And other friends who are dinosaurs. Dinosaurs who jump out of planes. "

You've got the touch! You've got the pooowwaaaaaa!!!

Tanking the Sickness Sucktastic

Isn't that title just the wittiest thing ever? No? Oh. Well, I tried. But right now I feel rather beat up. Drove the fever out, willed the cough into submission, but the ache remains. Sore. Sleepy. Don't want to be. Not supposed to be able to get sick. Argh. Will save. Fortitude save. Rah. Only 6:45, and I'm already sleepish. Bleh. Fie on you my weak and mortal flesh.

Writing is Scary

It's an uncomfortable process, writing. Or at least it can be. Especially if you're branching out into a new type of writing you've never done before. I've done fiction, poetry, non-fiction. But there are some things I've thought, and thought poetic, but have never commited to any kind of media. Which is, on the one hand, a shame, as I think it has a place, an appreciable artistic quality. On the other hand, I'm somewhat shy and afraid to put such things onto a permanant media, such as paper or a word-processor document. Love isn't always an easy thing to express, but I think I manage well. However, Love is a large thing, covering many different types and expressions. I've always had a handle of the noble parts of Love. Passion, though. I've felt it to be sure, passion, desire, I am but a man. Though perhaps I have spent too many years concealing my passion, and so it is obscured from those whom I would show. I believe it's a matter of inexperience, really. It's still such a new and unusual thing for me. Only in two persons have I felt a strong passion at all, and only one has been worthy of my desire. But how to express that? How do you tell someone you care about them and their happiness, and in the same moment tell them you want them, that they move you in a way that cannot be described? I'm trying to work that out, but it's uncomfortable for me to get those thoughts from mind to media. Somewhat like new shoes. Certainly much better than the old ragged pair I had before, but still needing to be worn in. Well, we'll just have to see how it goes, I suppose.

Update: Because I don't want to make a new post for this small piece of news. 4 pages. 4! for one poem. Of course, anyone I'd feel comfortable to proofread the thing isn't online. So it'll just have to be edited later, I suppose. Oh well, 2:30. Time for bed.

Paladin/Cleric confirmed.

You scored as Neutral Good. A Neutral Good person tries to do the "goodest" thing possible. These people are willing to work with the law to accomplish their goal, but if the law is corrupt they are just as willing to tear it down. To these people, doing what's right is the most important thing, regardless of rules, customs, or laws.

Neutral Good 80% Lawful Good 75% Chaotic Good 60% Lawful Neutral 60% True Neutral 40% Neutral Evil 40% Lawful Evil 25% Chaotic Neutral 20% Chaotic Evil 10% What is your Alignment? created with QuizFarm.com

Once again, a little quiz found on Holly's journal. And look at that. Not at all surprised at the results. Whee.

my moment is at hand, very soon now

Untitled, Dec. 06, 2004.

Seriously. Can't think of a title. Rah.

Why is it that things never go according to plan? Hmm? Can someone tell me that? Saturday went as close to the plan as I could have hoped, I suppose, but I was wanting better. Work sucks. Sucks a whole heck of a lot. I don't need to be trained on anything else. I'm not going to be there any longer than I can help. I need the tips from working out front, that's what I started working there in the first place. Got out a little early, but I was still there for 8 1/2 hours vacuuming cars out. Saturday night, however, was far more pleasant. At least it was for me, anyway. Heh, poor Holly. The Madrigal Dinner was entertaining, and listening to the chorus sing is always pleasant, as the East Rowan High School choral program is on of the best in the state, and I dare say the nation. Then off the Greensboro for a little wine, wind down, and hanging out. I wish Holly would have stayed, but that's rant space for later.

Sunday was alright. Cooked up some tasty breakfast, and got to hang out with Lani and Doug. Then we all three went to see the Grudge. Which was interesting, at least. It incorporated a healthy dose of Japanese culture, with a Sam Raimi flare. Then later that afternoon, Chris calls not 20 miles out from home. His car had snapped a belt, and no worky car. So Chris, Doug, and I get to push a car about a mile up the ramp and down the road to the closest gas station. Nothing to be done at the moment, so we went back to the apartment, grabbed some groceries and stopped in an apartment complex. Heh heh. Link forthcoming. This is the place, Bridford Lake. We're looking at the Carlton floor plan. 3 bed, 2 bath, nearly 1500 square feet. The complex is very nice, and putting it all together, it'll come to about $500 a person. Gated community. It's going to be great! I can't wait until May/June! So a little more wine and wind down. Also, Madeira is good wine. (Have some Madeira, my dear?)

Monday. Ah, yes. Monday. So Chris and I go out and get the necessary belts and run a couple of other errands. Eat lunch. Then we get to Chris' car. Only to find we can't put the belts on because a part that's supposed to be able to loosen and move isn't loosening at all. So after two hours or more, we finally give up. Chris, thanks to being a member of the NC Nat'l Guard, has some nifty AAA-like priveleges, so he'll be able to at least get the car to his apartment until he can figure out what to do with it. Then the job search. Struck out in a few places, but got some good leads. When I went to the Pier 1, the lady actually asked if I could fill out the application right then and there. I took that as a good sign. I'm hopeful for better employment. I have to be. I hate my current job.

But Holly. Dear, dear Holly. She's starting to open up a little more, a small step every time I see her. Still slower than I'd like. But I'm impetuous and impatient. I can wait. I have to, really. I think things will come together so that I might actually be able to spend Christmas with someone for once. But what is to be done? She needs someone to lead her. And I am willing to lead if she'll just follow.

I've also started working on my Dark Elf Warhammer Fantasy army for no real reason. But they're starting to look really good anyway. I started reading Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, too. I enjoyed the other three books, and this one's just as good as the others. But I went ahead and borrowed Chris's copy of The Order of the Phoenix as well, given that these are pretty fast reads.

*sigh* The road goes ever on and on...

and it's raining, all over the world