You don't really need to read Part I for this to make sense.

Actually, it doesn't make sense at all.

I did it. I finally just came out and said- 'Amy', I am madly in love with you.

Well, no, not really.

Let's back up a little. Yes, I've had some relationships. I'm sort of in one now with this girl I recently met. (I can say with reasonable accuracy that it won't go anywhere- Shocker of shockers, right?)

But, I mean, 'Amy' has always been The One. I mean, I'm usually a smart person. Yeah, I've said horrible things about her. And she's done things to me that have hurt. But, I don't know, like I said- ever since we first met, I believed this person was my soulmate.

And the other day, she said something to that affect as well.

So anyway, after a great night yesterday, after we said our goodbyes for the night, I walked home, and for some reason, I felt compelled to put my feelings on the table. It wasn't the alcohol.

I forgot to mention this, but after my stay in the hospital from the X, my body chemistry seems to have changed. I was pretty scared for a bit there- sometimes I literally couldn't sit still, like I had advanced Restless Limb Syndrome. But eventually it faded when I cut back on the caffeine. I seem to be hypersensitive to stimulants now.

In addition, after as many drinks as I had last night, I should have been drunk off my ass. I got a buzz, albeit a fairly weak one. Alcohol isn't even very fun anymore, but that doesn't seem to stop me from trying.

So anyway, when I got home, I sspent about an hour writing her an email. I wasn't drunk, so I thought it was fairly well-written. And it wasn't a lovey-dovey sap poem or anything like that, it was a raw description of my feelings for her- good and bad.

It began with my 'revelation' of my own mortality, how I shouldn't hold everything inside, I should take more chances, because eventually, it won't even matter. A large chunk of the letter was devoted to expressing my resentment over the eviction- about how I felt like she was toying with me for amusement, how viscious she was in her verbal assaults, and how hurt I was by them.

And then I apologized for the events that lead up to that, and I forgave her for how she reacted. And I really do. I forgive her- the anger is just gone.

I only dedicated a few lines at the end to my other feelings for her. I explained that if I wasn't too young and cynical to believe in love, I would say that I love her. But right now, what I can say is that I like her, and that I want to be more than friends.


I have a fairly active imagination, and can concoct some pretty vivid dreamworlds and fantasies sometimes. But in truth, I'm something of a realist.

Like, for example, I know that 'Amy's not going to read that email and show up on my doorstep in the pouring rain. She won't look up at me, soaked to the bone, her eyes shrink-wrapped in tears. And without a word, I won't wrap my arms around her waist, and I won't draw her in for a kiss that seals our eternal everburning blah blah dee daaaaaa.

No, I don't expect any of that sappy shit. The Truth is this- a girl like her, she's not looking to settle down with someone like me. She couldn't ever like me as more than a friend. And now, after such a frank confession, she probably won't even be that anymore.

So why? Why was I compelled to ruin such a thing? Like I said, Life is Short. I'm not going to waste my life away pining over someone like that. At least now, SOMETHING will happen. I won't sit around in a limbo, "secretly" admiring her from afar.

Once she responds negatively, as I know she will, maybe I can finally move on.

It's rather cliched, but I feel like a weight has been lifted. I woke up today and didn't feel afraid. I can become addicted to this feeling- maybe I'll do something like this more often.


Ok, I admit the previous post was a little overdramatic.

Here's a little story, that I'll break into two posts.

So 'Amy' invited me out last night. She had this gig at this nightclub that was hosting a bunch of japanese rock bands. Her job was to wear a 'Lolita' outfit with a bunch of other girls, and go around getting people's email addresses.

While I was backstage with her, the guy who gave her the job came into the dressing room, and apologized for not being able to get her friend on the guest list. Ooops, guess I'd have to be leaving.

He chatted with her for a bit and then looked my way, eyeing me up and down suspiciously. I had just left work, so I was still in my Smart-Casual attire. "What was your name again? What band were you with?"

I realized that he didn't know that I was That Friend 'Amy' had mentioned, and so I started ad libbing. "I'm Bee, Ms. *Blank*s manager," I said, shaking his hand.

"Manager? But...she..." I noded towards 'Amy', smiling. "She usually doesn't take gigs like this, but she's a huge fan of-" I glanced at the program schedule hanging on the wall behind him at eye level. "...The pillows. And I must confess, I harbor a certain fondness for them myself. So, here we are."

"Oh, well, ok," he said on his way out. "Just make sure you both get your hands stamped, and pick up an arm band. As long as you're both on the guest list, you shouldn't have a problem."

As soon as the door closed her and I almsot collapsed laughing. "Wow, you're a good liar!" "Meh, comes with the territory, I guess."

After that, all 'Amy' had to do was give me her armband, and press the still wet ink of her stamp against my hand, and I was in.

I mostly stuck around the bar, shelling out $5 each for a little tumbler of vodka and ice. Had some nachos, too, that were surprisingly good. It was nice, just taking in the ambience, listening to the music.

I took a couple of smoke breaks, bumming a smoke from Shinichiro Sato, drummer for The Pillows. They were pretty cool cigarettes that said Hope in little gold letters near the filter. I saved it for my loose collections of nostalgic souvenirs.

'Amy' ended up ducking out early, and we decided to head out for a late dinner. I mean, it was all just nice. Really, really nice.

So why did I have to ruin it?


Jesus Christ, what have I done?

I have become Shiva, Destroyer of Worlds...


Put a gun in my mouth and paint the wall with my brains.

I've got to be depressed to start quoting 'Fight Club' again. And it's not because I just read my Mom's MySpace Profile, her pic showing off her new tatoo on her lower back. *shivers*

When it comes to relationships, it's always seems to be ups and downs. Mostly downs. Is that normal? No wonder I reluctantly prefer to be alone.

*Wandering through this darkness, I'm alive but I'm alone. Part of me is fighting this, but part of me is gone.*

Funny how you can listen to the same song a million times, and not really hear it, until you're in the right mindset.

So like I said, I like this girl, and was warming up to her. She called me up late yesterday and invited me to a movie. She's a horror junkie so we saw The Omen. (Brilliantly shot, great use of color, but god was the acting terrible.)

Then we stopped at Denny's to get some 'Food', made with genuine corrugated cardboard. It was about 3am at this point, so there wasn't much choice.

We talked alot, and I enjoyed getting to know her better. I guess the problem was in the physical aspects of things. I held her hand, but she didn't really hold it back, and every few minutes would let go to adjust her shoe and wouldn't reach out again.

Later, when we were about to part ways, I stepped closer, to prepare for a goodnight kiss, and she kind of stepped backwards and we hugged instead.

I mean, second date and no kiss? I thought I was a cold fish.

Now, I mean, from the above I would say she's not interested in a romantic relationship. And I could deal with that. She's a cool girl and I could settle for being friends.

But I'm confused. She works all the time, and doesn't have much time off, plus she has like a dozen friends she hangs out with.

So, why was she talking about meeting up with me on her very next day off? If she just wanted to be friends, why the time commitment? Why call me up to see a movie at 11pm right after she had a long day of work?

Now I'm too cynical to believe that I understand women just because I'm a m2f TG. There's a whole other dynamic at work. They've had a lifetime of estrogen crossing wires in their brain. I've only had five, so...

I don't know- maybe she's just not a 'touchy-feely' person, or maybe she's making me run an extra mile or two. (I thought I was done with the latter. Bah.)

So, we'll see what happens. Third times a charm. If I still get a No Go, I'll ask point blank, 'what's up'. Though, I'll probably stretch it out and use big words.

Because I'm a pretentious genius, and all.


Dating has always been interesting for me. It takes a special kind of girl to be attracted to a...ah, "Special Kind of Girl" like me. The pattern I've noticed, they seems to be strong, liberal-minded ladies with gothic tendencies. And most identify as Bi. (Well, Duh.)

Just goes to show that there's always someone for everyone. Even alot of someones, surprisingly.


Haven't posted any new pics in a while, but I should. I'd like to pose in my labcoat. The white ones are traditional, of course, but I decided to repurpose a black overcoat I had. Wearing a black labcoat, you can't help but laugh manically every few minutes while rubbing your palms together.

As soon as my new eyeglasses arrive I'll snap some pics.


Those Quick Pick lotto machines have got to be a scam. 11-15-16-19-30? Come on! Even better:
44-45-47-49-50. Yeah, right. I've got to start picking my own again.

So I haven't blogged much lately. I got depressed last week and tried the Craigs List thing, posting a little ad that got all of three responses. Long story short, I met up with this girl and we had a pretty nice time. Well, I think so, anyway.

So we'll see how that goes. I haven't exactly had the best track record.

Those Quick Pick lotto machines have got to be a scam. 11-15-16-19-30? Come on! Even better:
44-45-47-49-50. Yeah, right. I've got to start picking my own again.

So I haven't blogged much lately. I got depressed last week and tried the Craigs List thing, posting a little ad that got all of three responses. Long story short, I met up with this girl and we had a pretty nice time. Well, I think so, anyway.

So we'll see how that goes. I haven't exactly had the best track record.


Your Social Dysfunction:

You are excessively sensitive to potential rejection, humiliation or shame. You tend to be socially withdrawn, in spite of desire for acceptance from others.

Take this quiz at QuizGalaxy.com

Please note that we aren't, nor do we claim to be, psychologists. This quiz is for fun and entertainment only. Try not to freak out about your results.


Two posts a day are usually pretty rare, but I got to thinking, as I usually do after my second Screwdriver.

There's got to be something about me that's really weird. I mean, like I said, most people end up turning on me in the end. Friends turn to enemies, love to hate. So I've got to be doing something. Then again, take my promotion, for instance.

I worked here for about a year, on the graveyard shift. Suddenly, the boss promotes me to manager when the other manager quit. Not the person who worked here for ten years, or the person who worked here for five years, and had the Certificates in small business and hotel managment.

But...me. Why?

It seems to always go that way- the ones in authority, whether boss or teachers or whatever, seem to like me. To trust me. While my peers tend to shun me.

I mean, I don'tcconsider myself a teachers pet, or anything. I was always fighting with my teachers, and then my bosses. I still do.

So, why then... Why tehn...

hmm, I seem to havelost my point. Well anyhoo, back to theboooooze.

Well, things finally came to a head with that employee. She was living at the hotel, and all she had to do was sign a registration card and start a payment plan to pay off all the backrent she owes. She refused to sign the card, and when told she had to sign it or move out, she said she'd move out. And then later, said that if she had to move out, she was quitting. So she quit. From principle, she says.

The Boss didn't exactly fight to keep her. I was told to keep her hours down to a minimum, to keep her away from the desk as much as possible. Him and I agree that she's a little...high strung. Her first day, she threatned a customer with a baseball bat for crying out loud.

(And since she wasn't fired immediately, that kind of gives you an idea of the kind of place I work at.)

'Ellis' is going on 32, but she's still emotionally immature. Having to do with being so religious and sheltered, I guess. Still a virgin, lived at home till she was 31, spent 10 years in the ivory walls of university- she hasn't actually been in the real world for very long.

And when her parents finally kicked her out, the only thing she could think of was to go to a women's shelter.

We were kind of friends, at first, so that's how I know all this, but being the boss and all put a strain on the relationship, and as is often the case with most people, she ended up hating me near the end there.

I tried to give her advice, when she left. The hatred wasn't mutual- it never is, really. I guess being cold and all, people just assume I hate everyone.

Anyway, so I said that instead of just waiting for things to happen, instead of just drifting, she should work harder for what she wants. That instead of leaving a paying job and a roof over your head, she should stick with it, even if it's just a few more months to get some money saved up.

'Ellis' gave me this really self-satisfied smug smile that I still remember, handing me this Craig's List ad about a job opening. Not an offer, she hadn't contacted them yet, it was just an opening. "I just wanted to prove you wrong. SEEEEEE! God listens to MYYYYYY prayers. God rewards MYYYYY faith."

"That isn't the point," I tried to stress, shaking my head sadly. "First off, you shouldn't need or want to prove me wrong. Who cares what I believe? The point is you shouldn't want and expect everything to to be just handed to you. Don't you want the satisfaction of earning something through determination. Through your skills- not luck or faith or whatever?"

With that she stuck her tongue out at me and headed off to the Church with her bags.

Jeez laweez.

What am I doing trying to give anyone advice, anyway? I'm not exactly a shining beacon of accomplishment and leadership.

Ugh, anyway.


Until some required equipment arrives, I've been having fun making useful little devices out of junk. MAKE magazine has been a good source of inspiration, especially their blog.

One is a lamp made from an old cigar box I found around the hotel. Found out later the Boss was collecting em'. Eesh, hopefully he won't notice one little box missing. I still have to add a dimming switch to that before it's finished.

The second is a benchtop power supply made from a 150W PSU from an old computer. I gotta make sure I don't leave that under the chair at an airport... Still, it looks pretty cool, I think.


Had a long overdue root canal today, and I'm rather surprised.

It took awhile for the novacaine to completly wear off, which sparked my paranoid mind with fears of facial paralysis and nerve damage. But after it faded I found that the only thing that hurt was my jaw muscle from having my mouth forced open for an hour and a half. (Hey, get your mind out of the gutter! Oh, that's just me. NM.)

So all in all, not too bad. Money well spent, I say. Though, I'd have rather not had to do it at all. Brush and floss, kids!

Nowadays I have pretty good dental hygiene, but lately I've been payin' for the damage of my wayward youth.

There's my bench! Yup, built with my own two hands. Not too bad, if I do say so myself, though any carpenters in the audience must be biting their tongues.

Sure, maybe constructing and inventing and all that jazz isn't exactly classically feminine per se, I'm my own person. Any longtime readers know that I'm... Strange isn't quite the right word, but it's the first one that comes to mind. In any case, I am a little weird. Never been much of a follower, and I have lived with the consequences.

So, now back to the ole' workshop. Ta ta for now!


Well 'Erica' showed up at my doorstep rather tearful. Apparently she violated her parole by missing a class, so before her arrest warrant is issued she said she's skipping town, heading back to Russia.

'Erica' doesn't want to go back to jail, and hey, who can blame her? I feel sorry for her, I really do. But I knew the last thing she'd want is my pity, so I just hugged her until she stopped crying, and we said our goodbyes.

Somehow, I had a feeling something like this would happen. She's a sweet kid. Well, I guess I can't say kid, seeing as how she's ten years older than me. But she doesn't seem to make the greatest decisions. Back when she was seeking advice, I said she should cut contact with these so-called friends, stay inside, read a book. Go to school. Get a job. Yadda yadda yadda. Nothing good ever happens past 2am. And get off the freakin' crack.

I tried to get her to a professional for her addiction- You can lead a horse to water, but... etc.

Anyway, I don't know if she'll make it, but more power to her for trying, I suppose. Maybe I've seen too many movies, but cynic as I am, I believe she can change, that it'll work out. That maybe when she gets back to the Motherland she'll clean herself up and get her life back on track.


Hmm, besides that, though, I've been trying to keep myself in a good mood, to keep the anxiety at bay. The last post helped me work out my feelings, a bit, and Mom helped, too.

It has sort of pushed me to get started with some of the stuff I've been putting off- building and inventing again. I finished building that workbench, and spent most of a paycheck on equipment. Signal Generators, HV Multipliers, N40 Neodymium Magnets, Oh My! I even got myself a labcoat.

Support United Nuclear! Write your representetives before they take away the garage inventing this country was built on!

Ok, I'm off the soapbox now.

Put some new images up. I got a surprising amount of requests for more Tied-Up pics. Almost makes me want to invest in some gear from bdsmtoybox.com, or something. I don't say much, but I have been craving a mouth gag. That Oral Fixation, again.


Kind of just a smorgsaboard of blog posts:

I saw the X-Men movie, and it was pretty cool. Even though none of the actors actually filmed out here in SF, (Welcome to the Digital Age) the visual of the Golden Gate Bridge being moved over to Alcatraz was neat.

Lately I've been relegated as Go-Between again in the great Mom and Dad face-off. I hate to say it, but more and more, I think Dad is losing is F'ing mind. Like, for real. The things he not only accuses Mom of, but actually believes, is incredible. It's like you couldn't even guess that he's known this women for almost thirty years. I've cognitively been aware of her for much less then that, and even I know it's outlandish.

Bah, well, we'll see where it goes.

I had a sorta weird experience today, with that Russian Girl. Did I even have a pseudo-name for her, or did I just call her that Russian Girl? *Checks Archives* AH, right, Erica. (If you're just joining us, the Erica Saga was Late 2005/Early 2006) She dropped my work today, and we chatted a bit.

I haven't seen her in a couple of months, turns out she's been in jail. Maybe it's the language barrier, but it sounded like she was told to go to a hotel room and wait for someone, and it turned out the room had a dead body (!) in it. The cops were already there, investigating and what not. Turns out she didn't have anything to do with the body, but she was arrested for Possesion.

Yeah, that's my girl.

So, she looks pretty good. Hopefully she's cleaned up a bit. We didn't talk much, she just wanted to tell me that she's developed "Hella Feelings" for me.

...What a coinkydink. She just showed up, and we chatted some more.

Anyway, so, it's tempting, because I did kinda like her. But on the other hand, I'm a pretty Chaos-free person. And she's something of a Chaos-Magnet, something I've learned needs to be avoided. So I spose I'll let her down gently.

Eesh, the perils of being a heart breakin' chick-magnet...

Ugh, well, I was in the shower the other day when I had a massive anxiety attack, but not the usual anxiety attack. I had never heard of the term, but I just knew what it was called right away and did some research on google after I calmed down: Death Anxiety.

I haven't had an attack of that since I was a kid, and usually it was when I was going to bed, or taking a shower. I'm not sure why the shower- maybe because it's like a damp, tiled tomb.

Basically, it's knowing, not just 'knowing', but knowing that no matter what scientific or medical advances the future brings, I will eventually cease to exist. That just like that dreaded dentist appointment or plane trip that seems so far away, time will pass, and it will eventually happen.

And I guess the anxiety stems from, not the fear of death itself, but the fact that I haven't accepted it yet. I've just learned to push the thought far, far away from my conscious thinking. Ignoring it, basically. And it works, to a degree, until it doesn't.

So Death isn't going anywhere, it's my perception that has to change in order to find peace. And I tell ya', right now that seems pretty impossible. Cynic that I am, I don't see any immortality in children, or my accomplishments. What did Woody Allen say? "I don't want to achieve immortality through my work. I want to do it by not dying."

What does anything really matter, anyway? Really. I mean, we're one little micro speck on the edge of one little galaxy, just one of a hundred billion others, each with a hundred billion other stars.

And eventually each light will go out, and, thanks to the Second Law of Thermodynamics, energy will be so spread out across the universe that matter won't even exist anymore. There might be hope, though, in the form of a 'Cyclic Universe' I was reading about, that says the universe goes through cycles of crushes and expansions. Though fat lot of good that does me.

I was also reading that underneath the quantum randomness, there might actually be an underlying order to evertyhing. And so some math geeks proved that if that were true, than everything is predetermined. That free-will doesn't exist.

Hmm, maybe I'm a little too smart for my own good.

But anyway, worse case scenario- the universe will come to an end, and everything is predetermined from start to finish. What's the point, then? Why does it matter? Why does ANYTHING matter?


Ooh boy, hehe. I had one of those moments there, where I was laughing uncontrollably for a good ten minutes. Like, laughing so hard I cried. What a sight.

Maybe that's my answer, right there. What DOES it matter? Why does it HAVE to matter?

See, blogs really are good psychotherapy.

I think not existing is pretty scary, but I suppose it's better then some of the alternatives.

In the end, I know it's impossible to live forever, and I really wouldn't want to. I guess I'd just like to live long enough to not want to live anymore, though I'd be hard pressed to actually come up with a ballpark age.

So, I'll just take comfort in that: "It doesn't matta'!"