|LoserNet Home | Index | Previous | Next Old Man Stories and Other Strange Tales|
The Year of Living Dangerously
Note: This volume has been edited beyond recognition.
Friday May 9, 2003
I was restless all night. This has been going on for several weeks now. However, when I actually got up at 4am, I realized that my heart rate was about 80 beats per minute. I became quite distressed. What could be the cause? And, has this been the case every night that I've been sleepless? It could be due to the amount of coffee that I have been consuming lately. I did an extended weight set yesterday and only did 15 minutes of cardio. Could that be the reason? Then, there is the babe situation, which has been causing me considerable duress lately. I thought about Mark's curious high blood pressure problem. I am now at the age where anything could happen. It wasn't until 5am that my heat rate returned to normal. Perhaps I need to partake of the "Hammer" more often. In any case, I must make some serious changes to my lifestyle. I am going to cut down on my coffee consumption. I am not going to cut short my cardio workouts. Finally, the babe situation is entirely moot. My window of opportunity has come and gone.
My Summer class at the Diploma Mill appears to have met the minimum enrollment, so I will assume that it's a "go." Now, I have to begin preparing the course materials. I have discovered that I am one of the few remaining part-time faculty for both the computer science and math departments, which means I am fortunate. My favorite Asian babe was not at the gym. I made sure that I did a decent cardio workout. I talked with Mark on the express bus. He is undergoing tests for his high blood pressure problem. It looks as though stress is the culprit. He described what he's been going through lately. The scandal-plagued Kamehameha Schools is a client of the firm that Mark works for. He has been the primary in the investigation that led to the resignation of the CEO two days ago. "When the job causes health problems, it's time to go," I told him.
I have already unwrapped my Bose Acoustic Wave. Psychotic classical pieces fill the air as we speak. My iBook is already set up for another evening of fun. I dread these weekends. I would rather be with a babe, I tell myself. But, my health is more important. I can no longer stress out over what I cannot have. Life goes on. Fortunately, I have my USB flash drive. I upgraded all of my digital hub applications on my iBook, even though I own no peripherals. Sheesh!
Saturday May 10
I have been reading the AskMen forums. The forums have been entertaining as well as informative. It's totally unbelievable to read the comments of the people who are going through the same nonsense. There are a few monks participating, too. I'm not sure what is getting into me lately. For the first time possibly in my whole life, I have been saying to people, "I need to find a babe." This is unheard of. Then, Michelle, one of my students at the Asylum, told me, "You need to get laid." This insanity is reaching a fever pitch. It was much simpler to remain a monk. Sheesh! I went to the gym and did my usual workout. The ride home on the bus was much better. I had a chance to do some thinking.
I will admit that, by mid-afternoon, I had reservations about my feeble attempts to break out of the monk ranks. I didn't go for broke, but at least I didn't run the other way. This is not a fun game. In fact, it's unnerving. I am sure that Shirley will find some humor in this pathetic story. This "game" makes no sense. People jump through the hoops to impress and woo each other in the beginning. Then, after they hook up, it's over. Lots of discord. Lots of tube watching. No wild thing. Just pure boredom. Look at the Ninja Turds! I am thinking that I'm just not cut out for this nonsense. I already feel foolish. In fact, I am feeling dumber by the minute. Why would any babe want to hang out with a boring loser? Why could I not just be satisfied with my USB flash drive? It's a good thing that the handmaiden doesn't read these idiotic ramblings. She would be laughing her ass off at my imminent demise. The problem is that I should have remained in the safety of obscurity like my Prozac buddy. Woe is me! So, what's up for the evening? Same old crap.
I've had some time to calm down. I doubt that there will be any need for damage control. Seriously, though, I did not realize how foolish I have been. Is this desperation wielding its ugly head? Is this mid-life crisis at its worst? What has happened to me? I know that I am repeating myself now, but that's the purpose of the journal — constant questioning of my motives. The babe situation keeps coming back like a bad sitcom. First, there is the perennial renewal of the monk vows. Then, several material possessions are hastily divested. Somehow, some babe appears out of nowhere. The babes themselves are always young hotties. There is a lot of hand-wringing and a lot of babbling about the monk ways. The mind subsequently starts playing tricks on its owner. The thinking and reasoning process becomes convoluted. There is an incredible amount of vacillation. The question is repeated ad nauseum, "Should I, or shouldn't I?" During this time, a few material possessions are acquired in direct violation of the prime directive. Guilt sets in, but there is little remorse. It's just subterfuge to further obfuscate the real issue, namely the babe situation. In the interim, a half-assed attempt to break out of the ranks is executed, albeit poorly, thereby insuring failure. Doubt and apprehension surfaces in a boiling rage. The mission is aborted (i.e., moratorium invoked, or situation mummified). A lot of confusion ensues amongst all parties. There is some sense of relief. When the dust settles, the cycle of stupidity begins again.
It's happening again, and I have wonder what is its root cause. Is it a sublime form of misogyny? I just do not understand why normal processes are constantly short-circuited. It cannot be subconscious because I have identified the disruptive processes and their associated psychopathology. These processes are deliberate and certainly not constructive. I am not a masochist. I don't particularly care to deal with physical or mental pain, although I seem to possess a high threshold for both. Any other guy would have cracked by now. Sometimes, like now, I come really close to capitulation, but something saves me. I never get to the point where I have to cry out, "Uncle." Then, I laugh, but nothing is funny. Some have said that my behavior is the result of the tumultuous "time of reckoning" of five years ago. I don't think so. I have been this way as long as I can remember. For some reason, babes are my nemesis. Yet, oddly, I have been friends with many babes. Why the incongruence? The root of the problem lies here. I don't know what it is. Until I find out, I cannot break the cycle.
As to be expected, I am leaning toward mummifying the whole situation. I'm moving out of my comfort zone, and I don't like it. If I had heeded the wisdom of The Master, I would not be in this precarious position now. However, let me discuss the matter of my phone phobia now. I came to the realization concerning why I don't call anyone on the phone, especially babes. Of course, it's gotten so bad that I don't even return calls now. It really all started with Clare. One day, she expressed her displeasure with me because she had to call me on the phone. "I don't call boys," she told me, implying that the guy should do the calling. Naturally, I lost it. "What? You don't call boys?" I shouted. After that, I never called her. Then, five years ago, I weaned myself of my cell phone when the handmaiden started calling me long after we went our separate ways. Even Shirley commented that I could call her if I wanted to. I have never just gotten on the phone to call her. Neither with Vanessa. Soon, they all stop calling. That does it! I am mummifying the situation right now before it turns into a fiasco.
Sunday May 11
Woke up. Drank coffee. Realized that I had a psychotic episode last night. Where's my Thorazine? Everything is fine now. The babe situation can really wreak havoc on a guy's psyche. Let's face it, my Prozac buddy was right. What have I got to lose at this point in life? So, I am going to invoke my Summer plan. That's right. I've decided to hold off on the embalming fluid — the situation will not be mummified. Nonetheless, I have officially allocated some of my paltry financial resources for this venture.
I have also decided to break away from total seclusion. I called Caroll this morning. She summarized everything that has been happening since I last talked with her. She was arrested and went to trial over the foolish bad check situation. She had many more employment problems. Someone she knew in Alcoholics Anonymous set her up on a blind date with a guy. The guy ended up loaning her the money she needed. I don't think she was able to pay him back, so he submitted a statement to the District Attorney. She listed an enormous amount of debt, delinquent bills and questionable accounts. Finally, she moved to Sacramento, where her sister lives. Apparently, her sister and brother-in-law have been instrumental in keeping Caroll from going under. She now lives in a small trailer in a trailer park. Just a week ago, her car was stolen. She also had her license suspended because of numerous speeding tickets. Caroll believes that she is just the victim of bad circumstances. I just cannot agree with her. How can anyone go through so much crap without somehow having a hand in it? This may seem odd, but I felt better afterward. I was happy to talk with her, even though she only related woeful tales. Since I have almost accomplished my five-year financial plan, I can safely return to society. I will also come to grips with my phone phobia.
This is the Year of Living Dangerously. I have isolated myself for the past four years. I minimized my contact with my old associates, which was a big mistake. I learned to be totally independent. I removed my reliance on people, which decreased my vulnerability. I implemented realizable strategic plans. However, I learned that some of these strengths were, in fact, weaknesses. I admired people who seemed to have achieved a high level of independence, only to discover that they were just as lonely, psychotic, and weak as me. I could see through the thinly-veiled justifications. These people were burying themselves in work or deliberately subjecting themselves to infinite distractions. They were not shepherds. They were simply stray sheep. These revelations made me disillusioned. Perhaps the strong are indeed weak, and the weak are weaker. If I use pops as a precedent, I only have 30 years left. I have died a thousand deaths in the last four years. Yet, I have learned a lot. I can survive desolation and alienation. So, why not rejection and humiliation? Time is running out. My so-called colleagues are just letting the clock run down. I really can't do that. I am finding that people, like myself, who feign strength and independence only end up being shunned by others. We are viewed as arrogant, haughty, and uncaring. We could disappear tomorrow and no one would care. I don't think that I want to live like that anymore. Living dangerously may be more of a sane course than the alternative. I have yet to live dangerously. Will that change?
Monday May 12
I don't shave during the weekends, so there is quite a bit of stubble on the face of stone by Sunday evening. Last night, I looked in the mirror and noticed that almost all of the stubble was white. Gray, actually. The hair on my chest and around the Vienna Sausage is also quite gray. It really dawned on me that my time is running out. Fortunately, that is the only noticeable graying. I made a vow to myself that I can no longer waffle on important matters. Thus, my decision to face rejection and humiliation like a man still stands.
An uneventful day at the Asylum. I went to see the academic coordinator for math at the Diploma Mill to see whether my class would be canceled. He assured me that it will remain open. So, I continued to work on my course preparation. I ended up at the gym at the usual time. Glen was there as well. My favorite Asian babe was there. I noticed some peculiar proximity behavior again. At one point, she walked right between Glen and I as we were talking. She had a slight grin on her face. Baby seems to getting much more brazen. Just before we started our cardio workout, baby walked by us again. "She's been following me around the gym," he told me. I am not sure whom she is following, but now I know that I was not imagining her proximity behavior. What is she up to? Baby was looking mighty fine. I will tell you this — if I somehow make baby's acquaintance, I am going to ask her out, thus facing rejection and humiliation with her as well. And, in all honesty, I am not trying to "score." I am not a stud. In fact, I have always been somewhat detestable to babes. And, although I find myself enamored by various babes, I would like to be friends with them foremost. This is always a difficult task because of "sexual tension."
I walked back to the Diploma Mill after my workout. Pseudo-professor Robert dropped by. I actually had a nice chat with him. As usual, we discussed the babe situation. I presented my thoughts on the need to face rejection and humiliation like a man, just as I have presented it here. I was probably trying to persuade myself as much as him. The bottom line is that I have 30 years left. I don't have the luxury of time. I used that up in the last four years. On the way out, we saw Pseudo-professor Kellie. He said nothing to her. I saw Mark on the express bus. We had a similar discussion. By the way, I haven't heard from Shirley. I know that she's done with her classes. Obviously, she is waiting for me to break down and call her. And, you know that I must do so. That's the way babes are.
Tuesday May 13
I think we've discussed the babe situation far beyond what is practical. It is time to return to the old routine. Did you remember moms on Sunday? I hope so. Has anyone purchased one of those great USB flash drives? They're great. An uneventful day. I set up Netscape Radio in my classes at the Asylum today. We listened to smooth R&B tunes all morning. I am pushing the envelope insofar as my job is concerned, but it just does not seem to faze me. Oddly, the students were actually working harder with the music.
Rather than continue with an account of my mundane day, I will delineate on a personal discovery which may change the course of events yet to unfold. In the past few years, I had become quite a wretched soul. This was not the result of becoming a monk, but rather the reason why I became one. I am a very bitter and angry person, and I have been for a long time. I believe that it stems from my childhood, although I thought that I had purged this nonsense a long time ago. After the ordeal with the handmaiden, my dysfunctional family, and my "time of reckoning," there was a period of time that I became a human being again. I was humble and compassionate. Coincidentally, that's also the time period that I met Malia and Joyce, both of whom apparently had a thing for the ol' lavahead. When the Asylum turned into a hellhole, I began to change. I became cynical, impatient, and almost inhumane in my daily dealings. When everything became unbearable, I decided to check out, if you know what I mean. I returned to the monk life-style, the same life-style that I had invoked just before LoserNet was launched. I've already discussed the reasons why I became a monk back then. The last few years have been hell, but nothing compared to what many other people must endure. This is rather selfish on my part, because I have really not suffered. Being an engineer, I am able to design solutions for impossible or impractical problems. That's why I came up with the five-year financial plan, a workable solution that would have some measure of success, that is, something I could feel good about.
In the last few weeks, I have become keenly aware of how bad my attitude has gotten. I am literally on the verge of erupting in violence almost every minute of the day. At times, I cannot control myself. I have also become overbearing and manipulative. I have lost most of my compassion and humility. I am not exactly sure how I became this weak. Weak people must always destroy those around them to appear strong. I persuaded myself that people had let me down. This idea was further reinforced by my dealings with students. They always want something for nothing, but are rarely thankful for what I do for them. However, this is human nature. There's nothing that I can do about it. I have been sending out a variety of interesting material on the "Meaning of Life" ListServ. Fortunately, I have been reading all of it as well. That's when I came to the realization that I am not ready to embark on new adventures. To make a long story short, I am going to restate my objectives. I do not think that I am ready to "find a babe." I need to become a human being first, and that may take a long time.
For the longest time, I wondered what went through the minds of the people sitting on the jetliners headed straight for the Twin Towers. Yet, with each passing year, I am discovering exactly what went through their minds. A better analogy would be people who are chronically ill. They know they have a limited time. The last 30 years of my life went by fairly quickly, even though I tried to live some of it to the fullest. How much quicker will the final 30 years pass? Viktor Frankl has already provided me with the answers because he has already asked the questions. His book is the only book that I own aside from the Good Book. "Live as if you were living for the second time and had acted as wrongly the first time as you are about to act now," he said. This was a literal translation from German, so I assumed that it was rough around the edges. I didn't quite grasp the full meaning of that statement until now. It hit me like a ton of bricks. So, that is what I must do. The babe situation must wait.
I received e-mail from Kevin (in Washington state). It is as if he knew what I was going to write about today. I've alluded to new beginnings before, but none ever materialized. So, now the Year of Living Dangerously begins.
Wednesday May 14
My first day in my attempt at a "human makeover" was a dismal failure. I was on the verge of violence for most of the day. The loser Windows computers were driving me crazy. Asylum students who have absent for several weeks have returned to class and are acting like everything is okay. Choking on second hand cigarette smoke all day. Meatheads trying to "big arm" me in the gym. Drunken derelicts and punks high on Ice. Rude asswipes bumping into me, or fat slobs who just can't make way for anyone. I finally exploded and yelled at some fat ho' who ran into me. A loser local thought I was talking to him. He almost got his clock cleaned. This is the source of my anger. It's the city life. I am boxed in with a bunch of inconsiderate morons and fat slobs. For some reason, I take their stupidity personally. I am unable to build up a tolerance. Each day, the most trivial matters bring me close to a homicidal rampage. There is no escape. I'm on a damned island. And, it's a small, overpopulated one at that.
Everything is getting on my nerves. I have also not made any headway in the social graces. I am very abrupt and sometimes downright rude with most people. I know where this is coming from — my dealings with the students at the Asylum. These are kids from economically disenfranchised families, mostly Filipinos and Pacific Islanders, essentially the same kind of kids from ghettos and barrios. They come large extended families, usually abusive or dysfunctional. They are not brought up with any social graces. There is also a severe discipline problem. Some students are ex-cons. Many are in some kind of drug rehabilitation program. Essentially, I am a prison guard. It's a depressing environment, which was further exacerbated by that faggot Roach.
I had a nice workout at the gym. Glen was there, too. Yesterday, my favorite Asian babe and her babe friend were working out together. Neither of them showed up today. Glen wondered where they were. Tomorrow is a new day. I will try again with my "human makeover." Maybe I should watch Falling Down again. Then, I can see what I am becoming. Lord have mercy!
Thursday May 15
This is the poor man's "reality" show. No one wins the prize. No one gets the babe. Heck, no one even cares. No fanfare. No fame. No fortune. We just sit around and read about some fool wasting his life away. Yet, this is the most real of them all. I've been trying to identify what has been causing me all this grief lately. I haven't slept well in weeks. I must average about four hours per night. I have been drinking a lot more coffee lately, even though I vowed to cut back. There has been a lot of stress, mostly because of the Asylum. However, losing the one class during Spring term at the Diploma Mill was also stressful because my income was reduced. Sleep deprivation is the real problem. It's almost like tweaking on Ice. I've been extremely irritable, and low on patience. I am functioning, but only because I am on automatic pilot. The cure, I suppose, is to cut back on the coffee. I was also irritated yesterday because I had not received my contract for the Summer term. If I didn't specifically ask about it, I may not get paid.
An uneventful day. I had to attend the faculty meeting at the Asylum. I am only there to eat lunch since it is free. Otherwise, it's the same old crap. People were very polite today. I even had interesting conversations with a few people, including two new math professors. One of them is an Asian babe. I used this opportunity to revive my dormant social skills. I have never really talked with her before. Later, she even asked me for an opinion about which club logo to pick out of six choices. In actuality, I have been going out of my way in the last few weeks to try to talk with as many people (mostly faculty) as I could. People who pretty much ignored me before are now talking with me. What I have learned is that I must refrain from discussing serious topics or personal questions. Everything should be small talk at first. As a monk, I really did not care what people thought of my brazenness. I did not want to waste time on trivia. I am learning that I must engage in small talk if I want to return to society. I now realize that, when I "cut to the chase" in my discussions, I appear overbearing and boorish.
My favorite Asian babe was at the gym. Glen was there, too. It wasn't until Glen and I were doing our cardio set that my favorite Asian babe walked by. There is a much more convenient entrance to the back room, but baby chooses to walk all the way down to the end of the cardio section where we were. I did not notice any other proximity behavior. Oddly, Glenn did not bring her up today. I left on the first express bus. I wanted to return home to relax. Since I've identified my most immediate problems, I must begin to address them. Time is running out.
I have been reading the AskMen forums regularly. Prior to this, I would have gotten sick of reading about all of the games that must be played to remain in the "game." These days, I find it all fairly amusing and informative. I really love the posts from clueless guys who are trying to determine whether a babe is throwing hints at them. Sounds familiar, eh? Sometimes, it's so painfully obvious that I can't take it. Neither can a few of the other forum members as they end up reading the riot act to these clueless clowns. From a scientific standpoint, I observed one common response type, usually stated, "Be a man, and ask her out." This is similar to the phrase, "face rejection and humiliation like a man." This implies that the guy's prerogative, whether we like it or not, is to make such overtures to babes. Refusing to do so is unbecoming of a man. What this means — and this is important — is that people like Pseudo-professors John and Robert, The Master, and myself are essentially faggots. Faggots! We are not men. We do not act like men. We are cowards and, therefore, we do not reap the rewards that men do. We hide behind convenient monikers like "monk," or "eunuch," or "hermit," and so forth. We are merely skirting the issue. There's no escape, as I discovered. The challenge always returns and beckons a man to act.
Friday May 16
Just before the club officer's and advisor's luncheon at the Asylum, I happened to see Shirley standing in the hall. She came by to pick up her transcripts in order to apply to the Diploma Mill. I chatted with her for a few minutes. Then, I went to the luncheon. Shirley had to drop something off, but she said that she would return. The food at the luncheon was crappy, and it was a boring event. I sat with Kevin and two of our students, Glen and Joe. When Shirley returned, I gathered my stuff and left with her. I had to drop a few things off at the Diploma Mill, so we walked there together. Naturally, she was a little upset since I have not called her back in over a month. We ended up at Jamba Juice. She told me an interesting story, but only on the condition that I not repeat it. So, I cannot include it here. She also provided more details about how her sister was trying to set her up with some guy named Bryce. He is an accountant. Shirley is apparently not interested, but she may go out with him anyway. I have observed that we seem to be discussing a lot of "relationship" topics lately. She did not ask about my foray into stupidity, and I certainly did not volunteer any information. We will also be going out to celebrate her belated B-day possibly next Friday. I also invited her to attend the class potluck next week.
I arrived at the gym a little later than usual. Glen was already there. I did a short workout. I really didn't feel like going home, so I went back to the Diploma Mill. I was sitting in the faculty computer room, listening to smooth R&B tunes on Netscape Radio. I couldn't bring myself to do much else. Then, it dawned on me. I really don't have a life, as the saying goes. Earlier, I finished my syllabus and compiled my exams for my Summer class. So, I am making progress.
When I returned home, I felt lonely. I didn't even feel like listening to the psychotic classical pieces on my Bose Acoustic Wave, but what else do I have to do? Well, I have cut back on my coffee consumption. I drink only three small styrofoam cups of coffee. I will cut that down further. I feel better, but I am still irritable. I don't really notice babes in the same way either. My mind doesn't turn to mush This will be a quiet weekend, and possibly a prelude to a quiet Summer.
Saturday May 17
Welcome to the life of a chimp! Moms was preparing all kinds of food, so I knew that the Ninja Turds would be stopping by. Moms wanted me to drive to City Mill to buy another electric fan, which makes no sense. There are three fans in the house already. The City Mill ad is deceiving. Nothing is on on sale, although it appears that way. That's when I decided to leave for town. The bus was extremely crowded. The ride was less than relaxing. I did not get much done. I could have done more, but I really was not in the mood. I did my usual workout at the gym. The ride home on the bus was very relaxing. The bus was pretty much empty. I had a nice quasi-nap. When I arrived at home, I found the house locked up. Apparently, moms had to deliver the food to the Turds. Can you beat that service? Fortunately, the Turds gave moms a ride home.
I sent an e-mail to Shirley yesterday. I received her reply today. Aside from the usual nonsense, I asked about her buddy Ramona. As you may recall, Ramona is in her mid-thirties and she is single. I wanted to know how she was coping with the single life. Shirley said that Ramona wants to get married badly, but she does not seem to meet many single guys. That's when Shirley hinted at setting up the ol' lavahead. Well, that's not a good idea. There's too much confusion at this point in time. However, I am in a similar situation. I, too, want to get married. All of this is rather strange, since most guys in my age group are married and want out of their marriages. I expect the Turds to move back into moms' house within two years. That's when Turd Jr. turns ten years old. I will have to move on, but I don't want to live like I did in the Roach Motel back in Convalescent City. I need to find a babe soon. Very soon.
I did not attend the grand opening of the Apple Store in Ala Moana. I wanted to go, but I do not like crowds. And, what would I do there? I could look at those new PowerBook computers and eat my heart out. I don't need that. My beloved iBook will placate me for now.
Sunday May 18
Woke up. Drank coffee. Lapsed in and out of a coma in my favorite chair. Gym. Bose Acoustic Wave. Psychotic classical pieces. iBook. I did absolutely no work today. It's a monk's sabbath!
Back at Square Zero. That's a good summary of my situation. My continued stay in moms' house may be my demise. The only advantage is that I have been able to save some dough. Otherwise, there is only a minor level of comfort, which can best be described as disquieting below the surface. I have to constantly deal with moms' eccentric ways, the latest being the electric fan obsession. Then, there is the issue of moms' religious faith. One should find it curious that moms has never pressured me to find a babe. In the Good Book, there is a plea for people to remain single so that they can better serve the ministry. As you may recall, I've never been comfortable since moving back to Hawai'i because I lost my independence. Yet, a quick perusal of the 'hood will show that the extended family concept is alive and well. Several generations live in a small house. Look at the House of Lolo. This kind of living creates adverse psychopathology.
It's time that I reveal Lou's Master Plan, my grand strategy that has never been recorded. My five-year financial plan was part of this strategy. I vowed to make significant compromises in my life-style to reach my goal. The timetable for the Master Plan was elusive to begin with, but it was based on a moving ten-year prediction. Obviously, many things have changed since my return. The handmaiden and I parted ways. The Ninja Turds moved out. I became a monk. The economy crashed. Since I kicked the can around for so long in my early life, I now have to deal with severe time constraints. Each piece of the strategic plan must fit perfectly. There are few contingencies. I only have a small window of opportunity for one aspect of the plan (i.e., to find a babe and settle down). I cut it real close, but I had no other choice. I have only myself to blame, I suppose. Remember when Q said that in the last episode of Star Trek: TNG? So, here we are. I predict that the Ninja Turds will return in 18 months since moms is obsessed with the notion that Turd Jr. should have his own room. As always, I will be notified at the very last minute, probably just days before they move in. So, everything else that I've talked about, like semi-retirement, is moot. Why did I wait so long to get to this point? Simple. Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs. Survival and basic needs had to be met first.
This brings us to the quandary. I don't meet many babes, unless they happen to be students. Many of the guys in my age group have already discovered that there is a babe shortage here in Hawai'i. Some of us are just not willing to go clubbing or join a church just to meet babes. On-line dating, speed dating, and matchmaking services are out. I do not know enough people to get set up. My associates are all losers as well. The numbers game doesn't apply to us here. Looks pretty grim, eh? Obviously, these factors are not coincident with Lou's Master Plan. I have to pursue whatever leads that come up, albeit few, and hope for the best. For now, there are none.
How do people hook up? I have wondered about this. People seem to magically pair up. And, what about serial relationships? How do people find so many willing mates? I have never gone through the dating process. That's why it is so alien to me. How do people find the time and energy to go through this ordeal? I am not even sure how I hooked up with babes when I am so clueless. Were they isolated flukes? Happenstance? Yeah, I thought so, too. This is not a good situation for the ol' lavahead. He's setting himself up for certain failure. He must be stopped.
Monday May 19
Come, let's return to the eunuch-like behavior and Data-like personality now, shall we? Seriously, folks, this is a trying time for the ol' lavahead. The latest chapter of the journal has certainly frustrated a few people. Obviously, this is a tribute to my ability to convey the convoluted workings of the oversized cranium. Let me address the issue of my vacillation between extremes. This can be likened to a severely underdamped system, where a nominal spike will overshoot in both directions repeatedly until it converges upon a final steady-state condition. The damping factor is pathetically low because, in all honesty, Lou's Master Plan did not take one specific criterion into account. I underestimated my ability to remain on course, and I am fully cognizant of what is happening. I observe the same phenomena on the AskMen forums. For some members, there are a lot of excuses, but no action. The excuses are exactly the same, from blaming oneself to blaming the world. Naturally, this has served as a mirror to myself. The other members are quite forceful with the spineless ones, just like what we've been seeing on Speak! III by LoserNet.
An interesting tidbit. For about three years, I lived in the homeboy house on Highland Drive in Convalescent City. My homey Rod was one of the guys living in the house. Everyone was African-American except me. I became part of their group, and I learned a lot. Essentially, there were all players (read: play-ahs). Babes were coming and going all the time. By the way, I was a monk at that time as well. I could not believe what these guys got away with, and the babes fell for that crap every time. Now, when I read the most outrageous advice concerning babes (e.g., Ross Jeffries, et al.), I realize that a lot of it is valid. Later, I will delineate on my life as a closet Alpha male.
An uneventful day. I discovered that I was "volunteered" to do the new student orientation at the Asylum. No one even bothered to ask. Kevin was asked, but he declined as usual. Here I am, the guy who is paid the least and the one who was targeted to be fired, and now these clowns want me to help them out. What do I look like? A toilet? They can shove it up their ass! I had a nice workout at the gym, even with the coincidental proximity antics of my favorite Asian babe. I also got a lot of work done, but I had a difficult time not thinking about the situation. Sheesh!
Tuesday May 20
At the Diploma Mill. I ran into Mr. Z at the elevators when I was on my way to the faculty computer room. Mr. Z is the academic coordinator for my department. He offered me a computer class for the fourth Summer term. I would be filling in for Professor Marv. The class would meet three times per week in the middle of the afternoon. That will make for an extremely long day for me. I'd have to go to the gym after 4pm, which means that I will not be able to ogle my favorite Asian babe. I really wanted a relaxing Summer, but now I am not sure that will happen. I can't be choosy about classes because the enrollment has been down. I also foolishly asked myself, "What if I find a babe?" Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaaaa! As if my favorite Asian babe will want to be my babe. Yeah, right. Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaaaa! I had a nice long chat with Professor Marimi, the Asian babe from Japan who teaches math. She obtained her doctorate in New York. She accepted the position at the Diploma Mill because Hawai'i is closer to Japan, where her mother lives. Her father passed away about eight months ago. So, she spent a good portion of the Spring term shuttling back and forth from Japan. She has not had time to make many friends here. I gather that she is a bit lonely. Now, I know what you're thinking, but we won't go there.
I restored my monk haircut. Once again, I got the "fade." Glen was already at the gym when I arrived. I am practicing male bonding, although I will say that it's difficult. I know that sounds odd, but I have only had babe friends in the last few years. I can't just talk about anything with guys, and that's what I find frustrating. And, that's why I really don't miss having a lot of guys for friends. I don't follow or discuss sports. I don't try to compete or one-up anyone. I leave that to the true meatheads. Yet, deep down inside, I have Alpha male traits. I am not one of those sappy, sensitive guys around babes. Since the Alpha traits are suppressed, I appear to be an eunuch. Sheesh! Well, I have to spend the evening pondering whether I should facilitate another class. I am already overburdened with course preparations. I am not excited about the dough, because I put my life on hold to achieve my financial goals. I am older, and I have no babe. What is my chump change worth?
Wednesday May 21
At the Asylum, Vivian asked me to submit copies of the Toad injunction for the Asylum's attorneys. I was not sure whether to comply, but I made a copy and will submit it tomorrow. The injunction against Toad, by the way, ends on May 25th. There is a possibility that Toad will go on a psychotic rampage next week. I'll be carrying my can of pepper spray. When I perused the documents, I relived that horrible time. In retrospect, I now see where everything started to fall apart. I also checked on the status of my classes. None will be canceled. So, I have decided to decline the additional class at the Diploma Mill. The extra dough isn't worth it. I would rather enjoy my Summer. I will also be able to go to the gym at the usual time. And, if I find a babe, I will have time to spend with baby. Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaaa! That's if I find a babe. Yeah, right. Hell will probably freeze over first. Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaaa! I will not notify Mr. Z until he asks me again. That will give me time to change my mind.
I did my usual workout at the gym. Glen was there before me. My favorite Asian babe arrived at about 2:30pm. I happened to look straight at her when she was walking down the aisle. She dropped her gym pass just a moment later. I was pretty much finished with my weight workout when she finally started her workout. No proximity antics today. I was on the Transporter-like machine when baby walked the long way again to the back room. I didn't notice her until she was just in front of me. I looked up at her and she immediately turned her head away, acting as if she was looking at something on the tube. I could not help but notice what a hottie she is. While Glen and I were walking back to the locker room, I saw her on one of the abdominal machines. We gathered our belongings. As we exited the locker room, I noticed that she was now standing by the leg lift station, with her back toward us. She kept looking through the glass windows of the aerobics room. Obviously, there was nothing going on in the dark aerobics room. However, there is a wall of mirrors directly across. I do not know what baby is up to, if she's up to anything at all. However, she engages in some very enigmatic behavior.
I was not able to get much work done because I was daydreaming about my favorite Asian babe. Only guys seem to become infatuated with their chosen limerant objects. Babes have so many suitors that they really don't need to be infatuated with anyone. It's really rough being a guy. I have no role models here either. Most of my associates, like my Prozac and Viagra buddies, are eunuchs. Everyone else is married.
Thursday May 22
An uneventful day. I have decided that I do not want to stay on with the Asylum after the end of the year. That will depend upon whether I can find something else. Nothing is going to change at the Asylum even with Roach's departure. And, I really don't think that I can tolerate that crap much longer. Frankly, I don't know what I am going to do. If I remain a monk, I will be able to live a mendicant life-style. I can minimize my time as a wage slave, but I will simply exist for no purpose. A nomad in life. However, if by some remote chance I hook up with a babe, then I must completely commit to wage slavery. Do I even want that?
I have been reading some interesting articles about the dating game. I have also been reading and participating in the AskMen forums. It's been a mind-boggling experience. Dating has turned into a pseudo-science. I cannot believe the amount of material concerning dating strategies, tips, and advice. The stuff on flirting is even more amazing. I am perusing this material out of curiosity, but there are many people who have made this an obsession. I did learn some interesting facts about on-line dating. As I suspected, it is almost a total joke for guys. The competition is way too fierce. In other words, it's a sausage party. Overall, the dating process looks very painful. From what I gather, it has turned into a numbers game. One has to date literally hundreds of babes before possibly hookin' up with one. Those stupid "reality" dating programs are not helping. Well, I might as well give up, because I only meet a handful of babes in a year. With these kind of odds, I will only end up broke and single.
After my boring day at the Asylum, I did a little more work at the Diploma Mill. My favorite Asian babe was at the gym early. For some reason Glen is always talking about her. He's a married man, for goodness sakes. Baby was looking mighty fine. No guy ever approaches her, except that one meathead about a week or so ago. It turns out that he's just a friendly guy. He even chatted with me one day. I've seen baby at the gym for over two years now. Before, she only did cardio workouts. When she started weight training, she really firmed up. She's' quite a hottie today. However, it seems to reflect in her attitude. She appears to be stuck on herself, and that's probably why no guy approaches her. I remember when she walked between Glen and I as we were talking. She looked straight ahead as if we weren't there. She didn't say a word. I could be entirely wrong about her, but that's what I have observed.
I have not heard from Shirley. When I last saw her, she made it a point to tell me that her cell phone was on 27/4. Obviously, I have not called her due to my phone phobia. In closing this chapter, I will quote Anonder from "Vindication" again — "When desire for a mate is weak, or is offset by a conflicting desire to remain single, then even a slight obstacle or a slight imperfection in a potential mate may tip the balance, from wanting to not wanting, and serve as an excuse to abandon all efforts and declare the situation hopeless." Sound familiar?
To be continued ... Go to D.09
© Copyright 2003. All rights reserved.