Awww, my counters broken. I'm still trying to wrap my mind around 260 thousand hits... Those were the days.


So anyhoo, not much happening around here. Things have stabalized a little, and I haven't heard any more complaints from 'Amy'. (Let's see how long that lasts.)
There was a sale at Rite-Aid, so now I have more Beef Jerkey than I know what to do with. But $1.99 a bag?! I'd be crazy NOT to stock up!
I've got all these free movie passes for Christmas, but, here's how they get you: They can't be used on new releases. So I'd have to wait two weeks after Final Destination 3 comes out before I can see it with the pass. So, I'll be paying cold hard cash, I guess. It's Final Destination 3! Of COURSE I have to see it on opening day.

As you can tell, I'm a big fan of the series. I just love the idea of fate/death being this malevolent force that won't be stopped. Don't ask me why, though.

It does make me wonder if there's some truth in the premise. Some philosophers have said for ages that destiny can't be altered, that everything is predetermined. On Time Travel, the theory of a 'Self Correcting Timeline' has been put forth. That even if you assasinated Hitler before he rose to power, someone else would just take his place.

I read an interesting article, where physicists say that time is an illusion, that the past, present and future coexist in a 'timescape', analogous to a landscape. If that's the case, it makes Free Will moot. Than again, even though the future exists, it might be, as Quantum Mechanics dictates, 'Fuzzy', where every possibility exists. Though, that would mean the past and present would have to be fuzzy too. Hmmm....

Well, my brain just imploded. My mind sure does wander to the strangest places. Sometimes, a movie is just a movie.


And Finally, Happy Belated Chinese New Year! And, what a coinky-dink, it's the year of the Dog.


Ugh, life can never be simple. 'Erica' is very creative. She's always painting or drawing or what not. The problem is she took it outside my room and into the bathroom, which is shared space.

My roommate, bless her heart, is one of those uptight, germophobic, neurotic control freaks.

I knew I would get a call from 'Amy' (even though we live in adjacent rooms our communications are pretty much limited to texts/phone calls except for the occasional dinner dates we keep to maintain the illusion of friendship). Apparently 'Erica' painted one of the light switches, so 'Amy' got caught red-handed, so to speak. (cue cheesy laugh track)

So basically, I reel 'Erica' in or we're both out of the apartment. And yes, I am living with my new girlfriend that I've known less than three months.

It'll be fiiiiine. What could go wrong? (Not counting the events just recounted, of course.)

P.S. Yeah, the whole situation is just a powderkeg waiting to blow. But I must admit, it's fairly...exciting! The drama, the international intrigue...my life has got it all!

Maybe I subconsciously seek out these difficulties, all of this rooted in a self-destructive personality. Well, I'm sure my shrink will sort this all out and help me clean up the mess.

Oh yeah, I cancelled that appointment. Heh-


God, I really, really hate my dad.

A couple of months ago we kind of had a falling out. Apparently I 'misunderstood' something he said and when I related it to mom, he went all ballistic and called me up, saying that I'm trying to fuck him over and make his life miserable, and how Mom's side of the story, her word has always been gospel. "From god's lips to your years."

That I've always taken her side since I was 8 years old. Well, there's a reason for that: That was when I started to realize what a fucking prick he was.

I had taken that conversation as an unofficial severing of ties, and that was that. But he just called me again. Apparently mom had asked him for money, and he calls me up to wonder why she needs it.

And I said that she's in the black every month, and child support (which he doesn't pay, but he claims otherwise) would really help. So then he goes off on me.

Yes, dad has helped me out of a couple of financial jams. He gave me some money to get started in San Francisco, which I greatly appreciated. But to fling it back in my face... what does mom needing money have to do with him giving me money a year and a half ago? That just proves to me what I always knew, that he only helps people out so he'll have something to hang over their head when it's convient for him.

So I told him to stop it, and I was just going to pay him back and be done with it. He started screaming at that, saying that wasn't the point. And I told him he'd get his money and I didn't want him calling me again. I hung up at that point, his screams still echoing from the speaker as I snapped the cellphone closed.

I said once, in a very old diary posting, that I wasn't ready to say "I have no Father." Well, hey, I do, and I can't change that.

But I am completly cutting off all ties with him, and I don't feel any emotions whatsoever about doing so. What makes it difficult, though, is that by extension, I won't be able to talk to my brothers (who live with him in Las Vegas.)

They have my email addy though. If they want to get in touch, they will. Truth be told though, I'm not holding my breath. Since they moved in with Dad they've practically become different people, and not for the better, I think. Sure, they're not axe murderers, but I can see the beginning of some of Dad's worst traits taking root.

It does make me somewhat nostalgic of the simpler times. Back after Dad had moved out, and it was Me, Mom, the boys and the girls. All together under one roof. Heh, I miss those days.

But we grow up, move apart, and suddenly, everything is different and all we have are our memories...


Before 'Erica' moved in, I went down to the Haight-Ashbury Psychological Clinic for an intake appointment, so I could restart therapy. It's a sliding scale clinic, but even with an old paystub from my smallest paycheck (When I took a vacation to Florida for Christmas) it was still $50 a session.

Cheap, but not trivial.

So that was a few weeks ago. My real appointment is tonight, and I've been considering a cancelation.

I mean, the main reason for going was my inability to form personal relationships, but I seem to have stumbled into one. Clumsily, yes, but I did take those first steps to pursue her.

Maybe I'm not completly hopeless after all. Of course, I'll still need to see a therapist anyway, eventually. But I can't help but see therapists as means to an end, IE getting a hormone prescription or surgical letters.

But for overall well being, I don't know. I've seen a few therapists in my day, and it didn't really seem to DO anything for me. In fact, the only reason I made this intake appointment in the first place was 'Amy' had suggested it.

Now, the only thing stopping me from cancelling it, really, is I'll feel bad for waiting til' the last minute, taking up someone's valuable time. Heh, I really am a nutcase...


(Added a link on the right to the Hiptop Archive. I reread it, and I'm surprised. Somehow, I managed to write a few good entries on a three inch keyboard.)

New Year's Eve, 2005

So, how did I ring in 2006? Heh, in the hospital.

Why? Well, one word: Ecstasy.

That's all folks! Goodnight!

Ok, so Amy had introduced me to X a few months ago. A nice little red pill that, when I finally worked up the nerve to take it, made me feel absolutely fantastic. Ecstatic...HAPPY!!! My eyes dilated, and every point of light became a glistening star. I was walking on air. Everything bad didn't exist- all was euphoric. This was what Paxil was supposed to do for me, in my mind.

It was a great feeling, yes, but I didn't go overboard. In the span of four months, I dropped X twice. I was thinking that it was better than drinking- the same social lubrication and inhibitions inhibitor without the loss of motor control.

So, New Year's Eve, 2005. I had ran out of the 'Red' ones a while ago, so a friend got me a 'blue' one, which I took around 7pm. Who knew such a simple color change would entail dramatically different effects?

So, my original New Years's Eve plans to go to a party fell through, and on top of that I started feeling real drowsy around 10pm, so, for the first time since I was a kid, I decided to just sleep through the holiday.

At 11pm, I awoke with a start and jumped out of bed, hyperventilating.

The room was too bright I couldn't breathe tingeling all over arm numb breath breath breath, run, circles, walk, try to breath, deep breaths, water get water need to drink.

(Just to give you an idea of my thought processes, such as it was.)

The closest analogy would be the worst anxiety/panic attack I've ever felt. Just thinking about it is making me feel a little nervous.

My heart was racing like I ran a marathon, even though I had been lying down. My blood pressure was extremly low, as evidenced by the veins in my arm and hands constricting to thread-like proportions. I couldn't sit still at all, I couldn't concentrate, my mouth was so dry I couldn't swallow...I just felt this overwhelming fear that I was moments from death.

So, even though a part of me kept telling myself I could make it through, that I'd get in trouble, that I couldn't afford it... I called an ambulance.

I paced around on the sidewalk outside my apartment, waiting for the ambulance to arrive while talking to Joan, the 911 operator. I have to say, they train these people well. From miles away she managed to keep me calm for twenty minutes or so until help arrived.

The paramedic had the exact kind of attitude I was expecting- Seen it all, done it all, and I'm not being paid enough to really, really care. But he stuck the sticky heart monitor pads to my chest and took my blood pressure, asking me a few questions on the way to St. Francis. (The hosptial of choice, apparently, when one doesn't have insurance.)

So to make a long story short I was given a bed at the hospital, and the next couple of hours was spent giving me water and medicines that would bring my heart rate down and stop my muscles from jerking.

I started to calm down and felt better, and since I heard from the nurses banter that it would get extremly busy fairly shortly, due to the holiday, I decided to check out. People who were really sick would be needing these beds soon.

In the end, I wound up with a $700 bill. Lesson learned, I suppose. The moral of this story?

Stick to the Red ones.

Or just say No. Whatever.

All these years I thought my chinese zodiac sign was the Boar. Same as Dad's.

After years of eating in chinese restaurants, those menu placemats with the zodiac animals printed on them fooled me.

I was reading an astrology book and it turns out even though I was born in 1983, according to the chinese calender I was actually born in the year of the Dog.

Here's a little description from haktanir.org:

Dog individuals are the most humanitarian and the least materialistic. These are the givers in life, prepared to sacrifice their own dreams, ambitions and desires for the sake of others. Dogs strongly denounce injustice and wrongdoing, generously giving useful and effective advice to those around them. They accomplish goals quickly, their successes the result of hard work and intelligence.

The Dog never really relaxes - his heart and mind are always jumping. He is an introvert who rarely shows his feelings, stubborn in the extreme and knows what he wants. Frequently cynical, he is feared for his acid remarks. He gives the impression of looking systematically for faults in everything he touches. This is because he is the world's biggest pessimist and expects nothing out of life. They are respected for their views and trusted by all who come to know them. Dogs find it difficult to adapt to change. They have a tendency to become wistful and nostalgic about the past.

Whatever his career, it will have in him a spokesman whose ideas will be profound and often original. The three phases of the life of the Dog are all marred by uncertainty: anxious childhood, difficult youth, middle-age defeatist before the work is to be done, and an old-age full of regrets for not having done enough. Romantically, Dogs gives the impression of being cold fish because they're anxious and doubt their own feelings as they do those of others. In fact, personal relationships for the Dog are the most important things in life.

Which, I think, fits me much better than the Boar, now that I think about it.


Wowsers. I'm on cloud nine, right now. Spending so much of my life alone, untouchable... just cuddeling is a new, interesting experience.

Most of my relationships have been cold, sterile affairs. Fitting my personality, I suppose. But lately I've been warming up a bit, especially with "Erica's" help.

Last night was quite a tactile experience, full of petting, massages and warm, wet kisses.


When I first moved to San Francisco, I practically lived in a bubble. I was homeless, living in the airport, so I took the first rental oppurtunity that presented itself.

That's how I ended up in Bayview, a 40 minute bus ride away from downtown. In additon, the symbiotic meld with my computer and the internet was severed.

Dark times indeed.

Just getting that Sidekick was a blessing. Coming home from a long day of fruitless job searching and being able to catch a glimpse of the 'Information Super Highway' was practially orgasmic. (The 'Pr0n!' helped a little)

I actually lived without a computer for about 7 months (omg! teh horrorz!) before my mom sent me her old Dell. It barely creaked by, but at least I could Download shows and listen to my old mp3's again. That was quite a nostaligic experience. I can't believe I used to listen to such crap. The 'Josie and the Pussycats' movie soundtrack? Eesh.

Finally, a few months ago, I saved up the $1800 to get myself a nice custom laptop, built on Asus. Lots of RAM, fast CPU, Built in wifi, 100GB hard drive, and a 128mb ATI graphics card.

Not top of the line- I couldn't afford, and didn't want to lug around a 12 lbs. 'Desktop Replacement'. (Though my inner-gamer protested quite profusely)

But overall a powerful midrange system. It was one of the most expensive purchases I've ever made, and I'm still proud of my decision. It's light, so I take it to work every morning.

I tell you, it's incredible to watch the latest episode of Lost, Burn a DVD or two, and wrap it up with a round of Doom 3 or Half-Life 2 with Bittorrent in the background. (Want to wet your panties? Play F.E.A.R.) All while sitting at my desk at work. (Don't get me wrong, it gets pretty busy and I work hard, but generally there's a lot of freetime.)

So yes, I'm finished with the commercial now. http://www.istnc.com

That's just to answer the question of what my current World Wide Web Portal of choice is.

Oh, and I quit smoking! (Yeah, I started about a year ago.) It was pretty easy, too. Just cold turkey. The cravings disapeared after the second day, so I didn't see a need to get the patch or some gum.

I don't plan on smoking daily again, though I imagine I might limit myself to one on special occasions. It's just kinda fun, and seems to go hand in hand with drinking. (I have pretty good willpower when it comes to nicotine, surprisingly. I've never smoked more than two cigarettes a day.)

Ok, I'll wrap this up. Nite!


Of course by 'Tomorrow', I meant next week. Obviously.

So the Russian girl "Erica" practically lives here now. For the past year my room has been nothing but a collection of unpacked boxes and chronological stacks of junk organized by height.

Now that she's staying here, I can actually walk in a straight line from the door to my desk. Even more amazing, she finished painting my room.

(It was a horrendously ugly purple when I moved in last year, and I managed to paint about 2/5 of the room white before giving up. Hey, I'm a manager. I've got, like, things to do. Stuff to...manage.)

Plus, much like my high school sweetheart Haley, "Erica" is a tough cookie. Really feminine, always wearing makeup and a proclivity for pink, but with a definite 'edge'. Knows hers way around and engine, pretty good fighter, and intelligent to boot.

Yeah, so, we'll see how long THIS one lasts before I screw it up somehow...


Fixed the Time Stamps. They were still on Eastern Standard Time.

Ok, enough. I'm going to bed. More tomorrow.

What? I Promise!

*Skip forward seven years...*

Back so Soon? Well as I said, my day was shitty and angsty and I still have a few minutes before bedtime.

(I was promoted to management at my hotel job. In addition to much better pay, I no longer work the god forsaken graveyard shift! I also have to get up at 6:30am six days a week. ...yay.)

Let's see...love live.... nope. Natta. Things didn't work out with 'Amy', A.K.A. "The FUCKING CUNT".


She was great. Really. In a Holier than Thou, uptight preening lil' princess kind of way. *shivers* Love truly is blind, especially when the object of your affections is unbelievably hot.

You know, all the postings I used to make about my sexuality, and coming to term with liking guys, and all the fantasies I had... I've STILL never been with a man. Though, since I've only had, like, two relationships, that's not saying very much.

But anyway, I've met this very nice, very cute, older lady. And she's Russian. (I've come to realize I have a thing for european accents)

So, back to my day. It's just been one of those days. Long shift at work, I had a lot of errands to run afterwards, and it started raining. And me without an umbrella. Then when I get home (I'm redecorating/reconstructing my room) I realize I got the wrong color paint and forgot a few crucial parts.

And the Russian girl was supposed to come over. She didn't.



Anyone there?


Well, where to begin... My T-mobile sidekick got turned off when I missed a couple of payments, and by extension, I was no longer able to use it to Blog, either.

I can't believe my last post here was over a year ago. God, time is flying by so fast. It seems to have accelerated since I moved to San Francisco.

By the by, January 22nd will mark 5...five......FIVE... years on hormones. Jesus, 5 years already?!

Ok, I'm sorry. I know what the imaginary reader is thinking right now...


Well I was trying to log into my fanfiction.net account, and I had changed the login email to my old Sidekick account, so I'd be able to receive fic reviews directly to my phone, thereby, depending on the comments, inflating or crushing my ego throughout the day.

Trouble was, I had forgot my old email addy. So I went to 'Blake's Blog', the last post being March 6, 2005 btw, and found the email address. Blake420@punkass.com? WTF was I thinking?

So re-reading Blake's Blog sent me back to UCOMDL v2.0, and it just so happens that my day was shitty and angsty enough to cause me to login and post. So, here I am.

Will this be a frequent thing, or will I once again fade into the ether? So much has happened, there's so much I want to talk about... but who can say?

Though I have proved on numerous occasions that my word means absolutely nothing, I might just stick around a bit.

If only to get everyone up to speed...