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The Year of Living Dangerously
The Saga Continues

Note: This volume has been edited beyond recognition.

V-Day 2004

The dreaded V-day is here. This year, it's even more painful. I am entirely confused by everything. Thus, I am barely functioning. I am relying upon my "automatic pilot" mode just to make it through the day. I keep wondering whether I will crash and burn like all of the pseudo-lifeforms before me. I have not heard from Robert. I've done all I could. I am sure that he has returned to the status quo. It will be a matter of time before he's out on the streets again. What I'm going to do with my own life is another story. I sit and wonder, but there are no answers. Clearly, the clock is ticking away.

I continue my fatiguing agenda to keep busy at all times. I am restless. I cannot sit at home anymore. Sleep has become alien to me as well. I have an uncontrollable desire to get hammered, but I have refrained. Nothing makes any sense anymore. I went on my tanning hike up Koko Head today. Then, I took the bus to town. I thought I was going to get a few things done at Diploma Mill. However, the carpet was being replaced in the building, I ran into Pseudo-professor Franklin. We had a long chat. Then, I left for Ala Moana. I got off the bus at Ala Moana Beach Park. I went on my little stroll. I chatted with John in San José. I am still thinking about flying to Cali during Spring Break. Robert and I met up at the Mai Tai Bar this afternoon. We had a few drinks. I had to pay as usual. He left early because his 70-year-old friend called him.

I returned home and ended up buying a bottle of the "Hammer." I drank the whole bottle and departed for Kahala Mall. Our group was supposed to meet tonight, but no one ended up calling. I drove to Kahala Mall anyway because I was losing my mind. I called Caroll and chatted with her briefly.

Sunday February 15

This has been a very long week. I have tried my best to not blame everything on the sinister kahuna, but one has to wonder. I neglected to mention that my job at the Asylum is also being threatened. The Job Placement asshole, Juan, is launching a campaign to oust me. So, I am in a precarious situation at both the Asylum and the Diploma Mill. Then, I learned that I made a bad decision about the one mutual fund. The only thing that has gone smoothly is the townhouse deal.

I also neglected to mention a few things that came out during my lunch with Lori. It turns out that she and Anne are not really on speaking terms because of some falling out. She also made an interesting comment about being alone even when married. I found it odd, but I suspected as much. Lori has everything she wants now. She has a good life, at least materially. However, I have noticed that she always talks about the various activities that she's doing, but her husband is conspicuously absent.

I am still up in the air about the trip to Cali during Spring Break. I don't want to end up cruising around by myself because everyone has to work. The trip will be costly, especially if I have to rent a car. John lives in San José, so he can pick me up at the airport. Caroll lives in Sacramento, which is quite a distance away. However, that's the only time I am going to have a week off. The next break will be the week before Labor Day. Not good. I don't think that my sanity will hold out that long.

I did my tanning hike again this morning. Then, I did my usual nauseating circuit around Ala Moana. I chatted with Caroll and also with Kevin in Washington. I am sure that everyone is getting tired of my routine and my calls. It's fairly obvious that I am really losin' it. I called Shirley as well. We will be going out to dinner tonight.

Monday February 16

I had to spend the morning suffocating because moms was busy mixing chemicals to clean the tile floors. It's really hard to enjoy my morning coffee with deadly fumes in the air. Moms also said that she has to spend the night at the Ninja Turd's place because she has to "baby-sit" the nine-year-old nephew. Moms is also going to cook a whole mess of food to take to the hard-working, well deserving Turds. I went on my tanning hike up Koko Head. Then, I left for town on the bus. I went to the gym. I got back on the bus and did my usual Ala Moana rounds. I sat out on a bench at Ala Moana Beach Park for an hour. There was some kind of reggae event going on. Naturally, that did little to settle my nerves. I ended up at Kahala Mall. I returned home to a quiet house. I did my yardboy chores for the first time in a long time. Now, I am going nuts.

Tuesday February 17

An uneventful day. The meeting at the Asylum never came to fruition. I talked with Vivian, the Human Resources Manager. According to her, Ernie has been complicit in almost every (if not all) of the trouble that has been brewing recently, including the complaint lodged against me by asshole Job Placement clown. He is also involved in the staged attempt to frame some student for sexual harassment. It is clear that Ernie is not trustworthy. Then, I went to get a haircut. After the gym, I hung around the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill. Pseudo-professor Dorothy was there. I also called Brenda at the bank to lock in my loan. She will send e-mail to Debbie to move the closing date up to March 18th.

Wednesday February 18

Yesterday, I lamented to Pseudo-professor Dorothy about my pathetic situation. Robert was in the faculty computer room yesterday, although I did not have a chance to chat with him. So, I called him later. He is still having trouble at the Legal Aid Society. He is furious that his accuser was promoted and given a pay raise, whereas he was given the mandate to have a psychological evaluation done. The accuser had also gotten a restraining order, but rescinded it later. Robert has returned to his old routine, which suggests that he did not heed my words. He'll be on the streets again within three months.

The crap at the Asylum continues to increase. Ernie is now complicit in most, if not all, of the dirty politics going on. It is clear to me that baby is telling the truth. Shirley and I ate lunch at Taco Bell. I got a good quote on airfare to Cali, but I did not have my credit card then. I was supposed to return and buy my tickets. However, Kevin called while I was at the gym. He told me about the meeting he had with the administration. More Ernie crap. I was furious. I went to see Vivian, the Human Resources manager. We walked outside the building. I described the desperate situation that we are in. It does not matter if we all keep quiet. Ernie can make up stories and spread them. "We need protection, " I told her. There will be no protection. If we file into the Dean's office, we will only be accused of another conspiracy, just like the mess we are in now. I called Kevin back this evening to fill him in. "We need an attorney," he said. I am so sick and tired of this nonsense at work. My mortgage payments commence on April 1st, and now my job is on the line all because of Ernie.

Thursday February 19

Robert came by the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill late yesterday afternoon. He was acting really strangely, almost as though he was drunk. He was animated and said extremely weird things. I suspect that he increased his dosage of Prozac, only to end up in a stupor. He is on his last leg. Rather than do something about his situation, he was more concerned about Match.com and bass guitars. Heck, I have my own problems to worry about.

Malia sent me e-mail yesterday. I am surprised that she still remembers me. I only hear from her once every few months. This time, she did not discuss the old days, which is good. In the last e-mail, it was almost getting out of hand, and it's not quite right since she is married. It's too bad that baby doesn't have a thing for the ol' lavahead like Malia did.

I have spent quite a bit of time on this matter with Ernie. I was able to look at his personnel file today, thanks to Vivian, the Human Resources manager. She clearly broke the law to help my cause. We discovered that there are a lot of discrepancies in his file. From 1994 to 2001, he claimed to be a "Brother" in an unnamed monastery. Ernie is a con man. He's no monk.

Friday February 20

A lot of mail has been coming, all related to the townhouse. Escrow documents, Bank of Hawai'i documents, and stuff from Coldwell Banker Pacific Properties. I'm pretty sure that it's obvious I am buying real estate. I have not been asked about it, but I think anyone could figure it out. I am not that excited about the townhouse anymore. I'll be living there alone, much in the same way I existed at the Roach Motel in Convalescent City. It's pathetic.

I met Robert at Kahala Mall this evening. We had our usual discussion, but it became apparent to me that he is back to his old comfortable life. Fear is keeping him from moving forward. I stand alone. Yes, even I now fear moving away from the cocoon of moms' house. Yet, what do I gain by staying there? I feel like a real loser. Naturally, I had to buy a bottle of the "Hammer." I am downing it as we speak.

Saturday February 21

How am I holding out? Not too well. I feel like a ton of bricks fell on me, but it was bound to happen. Life has been steadily falling apart for me this year, so I was not exactly taken by surprise. My conversation with Robert last night was perturbing. We are both still wanting of young hotties. I asked him if he would settle for a babe in his age group. "I'll take my hand," he said. I agreed with him. We are in deep shit.

I purchased my tickets to fly to Cali during Spring Break. I will need the vacation away from here. I will take possession of the townhouse just a few days before I leave. Due to the latest developments, I have decided that I may have to spend half my week at moms' place. The thought of sitting in my own place alone is already driving me crazy. If it ends up being a very dismal existence, I may just rent the place out for a while.

I did my tanning hike up Koko Head this morning. Then, I left for town on the street bus. I got off at the university district. I had to attend the pathetic Asylum club officer and advisor luncheon at Willow's Restaurant.  The food was good, but the company was really bad. I am actually sick of these losers. Then, I went on my usual loser rounds. What a joke! I called people all day, as I usually do when I am losing it. What is the purpose? I returned home, ate dinner, and left again. I called Chip to see if he would meet me at the Mai Tai Bar for drinks. He agreed. I left for Ala Moana. I ran into Professor Marv. We chatted for nearly an hour. We are going to exchange phone numbers because we both need to hit the town. I took the bus to the Ward Center. Chip called while I was there. So, I caught the bus back to Ala Moana and met him at the Mai Tai Bar. It took a while for us to get in, but it was worth the wait. Lots of babes. We had a few drinks. Chip was clearly uncomfortable there. I didn't care because I've been there too many times. We exchanged a few stories, but I began to see that Chip was not the stud that he tries to make himself out to be. Sheesh!

Sunday February 22

Yesterday, I chatted with John in Modesto. He's still doing the same routine. The Master is still in Convalescent City. He's doing the same routine. I keep asking him how he can exist like a hermit and not lose his mind. He claims that he only goes to work and watches the tube. I believe him because that's what he was doing when I was still there. He does not appear to be concerned about the babe situation. "I'm waiting for a miracle," he said. He's right. It's going to take a miracle to get out of this mess. I was losin' it all day. I chatted with Caroll a number of times. Often, she is the only sane voice in the crowd. I really enjoyed talking with Professor Marv. While we were talking, he spotted a few other guy faculty walking around the mall by themselves. It's so pathetic. Professor Marv had just bought a hard drive for his computer. He switched to Apple, by the way. "Here I am buying a hard drive on Saturday night," he said. He's been getting a little restless now that his recovery is going smoothly. So, we will soon be hanging out. He's also a bit anxious about the babe situation. He's 46 years old, so can you blame him? Professor Marv is a little more proactive. He said that he recently picked up a couple of babes at the beach for one-night stands. The babes were in our age group. He has gone out on the town by himself to Rumors, Oceans, and other clubs. For that, I have to give him credit. Chip is a mess, although he puts on a good face. He's moved to another apartment building, coincidentally the one his wife lives in. He's carrying on a relationship with a young Japanese babe. She's not a hottie, but she loves da wild thing. Yet, he wonders whether he should go back to his wife. "Stability or passion. That's what I have to decide," he said. As you can see, most of the guys in my age group are going through severe mid-life crisis. We are all unstable, and everything has to do with babes.

I did my tanning hike again up Koko Head this morning. Then, I was off on my usual psychotic rounds through Ala Moana and the Ward Center. I sat out at the beach for an hour or so. That was nice. I managed to call John in San José and chat with him. Primarily, I had a question about when we were all in college. John spent several years there, but he did not hook up with any babes. I asked him why. It seems that many of us, including The Master, have common characterisitics. With babes, we never snap into action. It became apparent to me when I was observing all of the couples around me today. Even if they didn't date heavily, the guy must have snapped into action at some point in time. I reviewed my own checkered past to realize that, even when the babes have been brazen in their attempts to hook up with me, I often did not snap into action. Naturally, this resulted in major public relations fiascos. So, it is now time for me to decide whether I really want a babe. If I do, then I will have to be more "aggressive," as John put it. From what I can tell, this will not happen. So, I should prepare myself for a life like The Master.

So far, my whole life has been a game of "catch-up." I've done okay, as I beat the odds for many things. In six years, I have completely turned my life around. However, when my life was a shambles, I had a babe. Odd, isn't it? So, it is in my best interest to follow The Master and wait for a miracle to happen. For me, this is the most logical and prudent choice. I should have called The Master a long time ago. Only he can set me straight.

Random Thoughts

I also chatted briefly with Robert yesterday. He was at some luncheon at the Hard Rock Café. He seems to be back in the comfort zone. He slept most of Saturday. Perhaps he cleaned his room so he could use his bed. A few weeks ago, he confided that both his mom's room and his room are so cluttered with stuff that they both must sleep in the living room on the two sofas. Robert is on a collision course with his own destruction, and he's ignoring all of the signs. He said that he might try for a position in the Prosecutor's Office on Mau'i. I urged him to do so, but I could tell from the expression on his face that he won't act. In my own life, I am seeing how the last five years has been detrimental to me in many ways. My whole schedule revolves around moms' schedule. That's why my day ends at 6pm when I return home. Only during the past Summer did this change. Obviously, this came to a head in December. I am still programmed to get everything done during the daylight hours. I am now understanding why I haven't taken up any extracurricular activities. None of these activities occur during work hours. When I move into the townhouse, I will probably start going to the gym later so I can take the aerobics classes. I will extend my day into the early evening just as I did when I was on my own before. Thus, I will be able to do more things without having to worry about moms complaining how the dinner got cold because I am late. I am literally living in a prison. However, if I follow the path of The Master, then all of this is moot.

It is difficult to remove myself from the cocoon, just as Robert is experiencing. It's too convenient, and too comfortable. For Robert, it's all free as well. We have reverted to adolescence. We have barely any responsibilities. I, at least, have a few chores. With the townhouse, I will have full responsibility to run my family of one. There will be no subsidy. I know that I have gotten lazy. I don't even want to do routine survival tasks like the laundry or cooking. I have had to do all of that before. Now I am spoiled. That's why no one wants to leave the cocoon. Even Shirley expressed these sentiments.

I am still torn about whether to come clean about my purchase of the townhouse. I am certain that the Ninja Turds will try to use this to their advantage. I don't know why, but I just don't want to make it easy for them. I will be struggling to make my mortgage payments, maintenance fee payments, loan payments, and now a host of other bills. All that for the townhouse, which essentially is a nice apartment. My resentment is building up, though. Every time moms does anything that remotely reminds me that I am being treated like a kid, I feel an urge to explode. I feel like a small kid, which is then exacerbated by the fact that I can attract no babes. How can a 50-year-old man, living at home with moms, be attractive to any babe?

In chatting with Professor Marv yesterday, I came to realize the severity of the situation. His fluke one-night stands gave him a reprieve, but from what? The insanity of single life is still with him. If I joined forces with him, I will only end up being a burden. There is no way that I'll be able to team mack on babes. I am not a "wingman." The real answer is to quietly give up. That's what Robert has done. He refuses to take anything less than a young hottie. And, as he said several weeks ago, "If I am doing this 25 years from now, I might as well end it all." So, his only suggestion is that we find a way to achieve fame and fortune quickly. He can't even survive for three weeks on his own, yet he wants us to become rich and famous overnight. It is my guess that this kind of insanity will increase as time continues to run out. It's too bad that I can't syndicate this journal. It's priceless.

This, of course, brings us full circle to the topic of resignation and acceptance, an issue raised by The Master. He has gone through this phase successfully because he is perfectly satisfied with watching the tube and going to work. He feels absolutely no desire to do anything else. And, I now believe that he has fully resigned to being a celibate bachelor for the rest of his life. He appears to have no regrets about the decision. Unlike Pseudo-lifeforms Paul and Jim, The Master has no apparent symptoms of psychopathology. That's why he is The Master! By the way, here's what Kevin in Washington suggested on Speak! III by LoserNet:

Might as well face it, T. You are who you are. By your own admission, you have never "snapped into action", even when it was obvious even to you that a woman was interested. You're right - you are probably stuck in a repeating cycle of inaction, analysis, inaction...

If that's the case, then the best thing for you to do is to accept the fact that you will never hook up with anyone, and just stop trying. Try not to notice women, don't talk with them unless you have to, don't interact with them any more than necessary, and don't befriend any of them. Just go to work, go to the gym, and go home, and do this for the next 30 or 40 years.

Well, so what am I going to do? Well, it looks fairly obvious that I have only one choice. The writing is on the wall.

Monday February 23

A grueling day at the Asylum. My job is being threatened and most of it is because of Ernie's constant gossiping. I spent most of the day in state of disarray. Shirley and I ate lunch at Taco Bell. I had a few drinks before my evening class. My nerves were shot. This is now my life. I am a drunken loser. Frankly, this is all I'm worth. I finally concede that everyone was right. I need to get real. So, this is how I will be spending the rest of my life. In other words, I give up. I cannot play the game. I have no game.

Yep, I'm a fucking loser. An old loser. There is no point in carrying on the ruse. What Shirley doesn't know is that all of our friendships are done. I decided to mummify this situation when even the Dean brought up the "hottie" (read: Shirley) I was with at the lua'u. Chip brought her up when we were out on Saturday. I really can't take it anymore. If anything, I need to find some extremely thick babes to hang around with, preferably in their forties.

I am not exactly certain where the problem lies. I suspect that I've been in the cocoon (read: moms' house) too long. This has emasculated me, not as bad as Robert, but still quite severely. I don't tell people anything except that I'm "renting a place in Hawai'i Kai." How much more pathetic can a guy look? I don't really feel like a man anymore. I cannot even imagine myself mackin' on a babe, or initiating any touching and kissing, or initiating da wild thing. Somewhere down the line, I've done all of that before. However, I can no longer do it. It is so alien a concept that I just don't know what to do. I have become an eunuch. That's why I've been trying to isolate the source of the problem. Does it stem from six years of emasculation as a result of being a momma's boy? Was the humiliation so great that it literally castrated me?

The damage may not be reversible. With one foot in the geriatric years, I have become even more eunuch-like. I can't even tell people my age. All of these issues have made me very uncomfortable around babes. So, that's why I have to throw in the towel. I am a fucking loser. Look at Robert. He is just a shell of a man. He is so pathetic now. No one can help but feel sorry for him. Yet, with all the help he is receiving, he is becoming even lesser of a man. And, so am I.

To be continued ... Go to D.27

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