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The Exodus Files
Sunday July 11, 2004
I was up quite late last night. Actually, I was still wide awake at 2am this morning. Here are some random thoughts from my late night. In my travels on the island, I have noticed the proliferation of "carbon units." Remember that term from Star Trek? Yes, the whole planet is infested with people and their useless crap. There's something wrong with the big picture. Everything is so totally unnatural. There are no animals roaming about. There's vegetation, but most of it is "planned" landscaping. Then, I have to wonder about the idiocy of transporting oneself in a 3,000-pound piece of shit. I am talking about cars. Why do we need something so big and heavy to transport a fat slob in search of a pack of cigarettes? I have discussed these matters before in the journal. That's why I am not going into any detail now. Life as we know it is completely screwed up. That's why Armageddon is right around the corner. Whether we choose to believe that the latter will come through divine intervention or not, our destruction is close at hand. We are looking at quite a fragile situation. World oil is peaking very soon. The Russian banking system is on the verge of collapse. The Middle East is a powderkeg ready to explode. The whole fabric of society is unraveling.
I was also contemplating the foolishness of the babe situation. This came to light when I encountered the Pier 1 babe yesterday. That brought back to mind the foolishness of last year (which is now deleted from the journal), although some of it was intentionally written to provide a more frenetic tone. Nonetheless, the issue itself was real. I still peruse the AskMen Forums. It's quite obvious that everyone is preoccupied with the babe situation. For one thing, it's a biological imperative. However, the current state of affairs should tell us something. Divorce rates are at 50 percent in this country, which suggests that there is nothing else going on but "fuck buddy" situations. What else can we expect from a society based upon instant gratification and consumerism? It is probably a blessing that my time has come and gone. I have come to realize that the eleventh-hour intervention that I have been anticipating has already happened. Yes! I have been saved from ever having to go through hell with another babe. What happened six years ago will never happen again in my lifetime. During this long "dry spell," I have been able to ascertain that I could never be in a relationship with a babe. For example, whenever I hear Lori refer to the house that she and her husband live in as "my house," I cringe. Although I only have a pathetic little hovel (read: Chez Loser), I don't want anybody living with me. No one else except me will call it "my piece of shit." There are always idiots who will say, "You will change your mind when you meet the right person." Never listen to this kind of bullshit, my friends. There is no "right" person. Look at the fucking statistics. Why hook up with the wrong person because choking the chicken gets tiring? Why create a dysfunctional household and produce little shits for kids? Heck, the useless asswipes are only waiting for their inheritance.
You may have noticed that the language on LoserNet is no longer censored. Yeah, I really have to clean up my act. I went for years without cussing, but now that's out the door. It's my frustration coming through. Well, that's why I am taking steps to clear my accounts, so to speak. It starts with the divestiture of all useless possessions. I will admit that it will be difficult to part with my Bose Acoustic Wave and my beloved six-four. Both have been with me for a long time. I will be closing more e-mail accounts. And, I will close one more credit card account.
I made the benign journey to Chez Loser again. I saw Pseudo-professor Kai and his daughter standing at the bus stop in town as my bus passed by. I quickly poured out a glass of wine when I arrived at Chez Loser. I passed out on the floor after a few more glasses. When I came to, I left for town. I made the transfer at Ala Moana, but I did not spend any time looking around. I am sick and tired of the crowds. So, another wasted weekend has gone by.
I was perusing the Circuit City ad this morning. I am seriously contemplating the purchase of one of those big-ass plasma display tubes. Then, I can sit around, watch useless mind-numbing crap, and drink myself into a stupor with cheap booze. This is what a good portion of our population is doing. So, why not go with the flow? Either that, or I will have invest in a new Apple PowerBook so I can compose my own music with GarageBand. If I purchase a digital video camera, then I can also produce movies with iMovie. Imagine LoserNet in video format. Yikes! These are my choices because I am growing old and decrepit by the hour. Obviously, the PowerBook will be the best choice for the money.
I noticed that I have a small gut developing. It's probably because I haven't been doing as much cardio lately. Perhaps I should just join the crowd and turn into a fat slob. It's all the rage these days. Heck, I'm not sure what to do. Why am I working out and trying to stay in shape? What is the purpose? It certainly isn't going to extend my life by any means, especially with all the booze that I have been guzzling. To the most astute observer, it becomes plainly clear that I made a big mistake recently and that's what changed my whole life. Was Anonder right all this time?
Monday July 12
While I was out at the projects (read: townhouse complex) this weekend, I noticed that someone had put two small potted plants by the dumpster. I brought one back to Chez Loser on Saturday. Yesterday, I saw the other still sitting there. So, I brought it back as well. Both are now sitting in my lanai. I'm starting a home for wayward plants. Sheesh!
I neglected to mention that someone was parked in the driveway at the House of Lolo with the motor running from 2:30am to well after 4am. I surmise that it was either the old ho' or the young ho' with one of their BoyToys. That's what has to be done when three generations live under the same roof. The sad part is the wasted petrol. World oil is peaking, and no one gives a shit.
An uneventful day. James, one of the faculty at the Asylum, mentioned that Ernie is aware of the real reason for the ad in the classifieds. He knows that he may be replaced. James and I also had a discussion about Hawai'i real estate. He said that most of the buyers are not local. Right now, many of them are rich mainlanders. They are buying a lot of the luxury homes, which is pulling up the prices of the hovels like my place. This is same thing that Lori had stated about a month ago. Home prices on Mau'i and Kaua'i have also gone through the roof. The most apparent problem is that few of the locals can afford to buy a place. Everything is now out of their reach. Even old, dumpy condos in town are going for $300,000 or more. Sheesh! I had to decline the offer from Chaminade. Although I was offered the higher rate of pay, I still wouldn't make enough to meet the mortgage payments. Looks like I'm stuck at the Asylum until it goes under in May. The employee buyout plan is generating some interest. However, it is uncertain whether this will come to fruition. After the gym, I ended up in the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill. Pseudo-professor Ralph was there. I have not seen him in a while, so it was to chat with him.
I read an interesting article titled, "Five Reasons Sex is Good for You," by Laura Snyder. The first four are obvious. It's a good workout. It makes you feel happier. It boost your immune system. It reduces stress. However, the fifth reason is the clincher. Snyder states, "You'll live longer (and look younger!). A British study of 1,000 men found that those who had at least two orgasms per week had half the death rate of those who indulged less than once a month. Sex can make you look younger, too, according to neuropsychologist David Weeks, who found that men and women who reported having sex an average of four times per week looked approximately ten years younger than they really were." Good Lord! No wonder I am aging quickly. Well, when I was doing da wild thing four or five times per day many moons ago, I didn't realize that it had helped me look younger. Now that I am completely celibate, I will be on the perpetual downhill slide.
Tuesday July 13
I must have had a slight Eustachian tube infection yesterday, so I experienced sharp pains in my inner ear and throat. I happened to review the document, "Diploma Mill Plan," which I had submitted to the Asylum management just a couple of months before the sale. I believe that I have the operational plan to turn the Asylum around. I know that sounds conceited, but I have good reason. The employee buyout family will consist of only a handful of people. I hope to be chosen to be part of the family. I chose the word "family" over "team," mainly because the latter is what is being overused by the new ownership. James, one of the faculty, believes that the new ownership will be extremely successful. Yet, I am looking at the facts at hand. Registration begins next week. There is no registrar. His last day was on Friday. The new ownership has now stalled the process because it is rethinking the key component of the matriculation strategy. Mind you, it is the very same key component which I believe will be the demise of the Asylum. None of the faculty know their class assignments. Confusion abounds. There is absolutely no communication between anyone. In fact, not much has changed since the days of the old ownership. By the way, please do not confuse the "Diploma Mill Plan" with the Diploma Mill.
I read with interest an article by Mike Ruppert on the From the Wilderness site titled, "Postponement of the November Election." It is, of course, falling in line with the dire predictions several years ago by the alternative media that the Shrub administration intends to hijack the 2004 elections if it senses that it cannot win by the popular vote. This is yet just an extension of the farce that occurred in the 2000 elections, the alleged "September 11th" terrorist attacks, and the staged wars in Afghanistan and Iraq. We have a precarious world situation right now. In our own country, our financial system is suspect. I am not certain what kind of "Skull and Bones" chicanery that Shrub and his cussing sidekick have in mind. Yet, it all stinks of oil. Commenting on this upcoming travesty, Ruppert states, "At that moment the Constitution would overtly cease to have any operational meaning at all. The separation of powers would vanish." He's right. We'll become a dictatorship, but we will still have the right to spend as much money as we want.
An uneventful day. Sam's sidekick, Al, spent all day making presentations to classes. He will be doing this for two weeks. He was supposed to limit the talk to 20 minutes. One of the faculty, James, said that he took the whole period (80 minutes). From what I understand, Al did not mention the key component of the matriculation strategy, the one that will adversely affect all students. This whole Keystone Cops approach to communication has been the Achilles' heel of the new ownership. The Asylum may go down even quicker than I predicted.
Shirley sent e-mail to arrange lunch on Thursday. She wants Ramona to come along. I sent a text message later in the day to say that it would be difficult for me to make time for lunch for the next two weeks. Pseudo-professor Glenn was in the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill when I arrived after the gym. He wanted to go to the Indigo Happy Hour. I had to decline because I was on my way back to Hawai'i Kai. The express bus was late as usual. However, I was able to get to the packaging place before it closed. Rather than call me to say that the box was not ready, the clown left it to me to drive there for nothing. "This is Hawai'i," I have to keep telling myself. I am not sure if I will be able to ship the folding metal shelf this weekend. So, I walked over to Long's and bought a broom. It was on sale, and I need it to clean my lanai. I was in a bad way after that, so I opened a big-ass bag of potato chips. I stuffed my face. I might as well just give in and turn into a fat slob already. I could have been at the Indigo Happy Hour.
Wednesday July 14
I've really come to the point where I don't want to work anymore. There's almost no purpose except to waste what little is left of my life. I don't earn enough dough anyway. I have thought about becoming completely homeless. I would not have to spend much because my meals would be covered by the homeless missions. I believe that I could get by for about ten years until I become too old and feeble. Then, I could rent some roach-infested hovel for the remainder of my years. Alas, perhaps Costa Rica Cinco is a better plan, eh?
I have not seen or done anything with Shirley in over three months. In fact, I have not even spoken with her except for one brief phone call over a month ago. I can't say that I miss any of the times from the past year. After I pruned the journal, I have no real recollection of anything. It's as if it never happened. That's how the journal affects my life. Altering the journal alters my history. That's also why I am rapidly trying to ship stuff off that does not belong to me. A long time ago, I used to be bothered by losing touch with people. Now, I am no longer concerned. It's a fact of life. Everyone is expendable. Knowing this has released me from any obligation to anyone except the Creator.
An uneventful day. At the Asylum, confusion still abounds. The Fall schedule is so screwed up now. Some faculty have two or more classes at the same times on the same days. By the way, this scheduling plan is the crux of the new ownership's scheme to increase enrollment. I spoke with Gino, an accountant who is also faculty. I asked him specific questions concerning the employee buyout plan and its possible success. He seems to think that the idea is ludicrous. As for the new ownership, he said, "They're arrogant. They have that mainland arrogance. They thought they could walk in, spend a few dollars on advertising, and the enrollment would skyrocket." Gino is from the East Coast. He said that, when he first moved here, he was the same way. In time, Gino learned the true meaning of the phrase, "This is Hawai'i." As for the new ownership, he said, "They have to learn the hard way."
Pseudo-professor Kai was in the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill when I arrived after the gym. He received the contract for the job in China, so he is leaving at the end of August. His daughter, Shannon, will be spending the rest of the Summer here as well. Shirley sent a text message. She wanted to know if Friday was a better day for lunch. I sent a reply later in the day saying that I could not be certain because of the situation at the Asylum. I also chatted with Lori this morning on the express bus. She wants to do lunch on Monday.
My ability to tolerate this bullshit life is declining daily. I just want out. I'll be honest. The truth of the matter is that I feel this way because I am single. I have no obligations to anyone but myself. However, I don't expect much. Therefore, I am not motivated to increase my standard of living. I am not saying that I need or want a babe. At this point in time, I don't. It's too late for that. There is just no reason for me to bust my ass when I only have myself to fend for. The fortune in my Panda Express fortune cookie read, "Step by step you will ascend the staircase to success." The problem is that the staircase is really long, and I only have enough time to make it up halfway.
Thursday July 15
Whenever I ride the bus, I always look out the window, if I am not napping. In the residential neighborhoods, I observe the amount of crap people store in their garages, carports, or just anywhere there's space. As the bus cruises by the high density neighborhoods like Makiki, I peruse the amount of crap that people have stacked outside in their lanais of the high-rise apartments. It's just amazing to see the amount of junk that people accumulate. Some people have more shit stacked in their cramped little lanais than I own in total. Sheesh! Then, I think about all of those public storage places where people pay rent to store stuff they never use. We have literally buried ourselves in our useless crap.
An uneventful day. At the Asylum, the final schedule for the Fall term was released. What a fiasco! There will be a lot of unhappy students. Daynesha, one of the office help, resigned. Her last day was today. Barbie, another of the office help, is planning to resign soon. There was a mixed reaction from the faculty about the scheduling, even though we will soon be in a sweatshop. After the gym, I ended up at the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill. Pseudo-professor Ralph was there. We ended up chatting for a bit. As I was walking to the bus, I heard someone call out my name. It was Scot, the former Asylum registrar. He is now working at the Diploma Mill. He said that he had just seen Wellman, a former Asylum faculty. He's at the Diploma Mill as well. I also chatted with Pseudo-professor Franklin. He has not heard anything about the Visiting Professor position. Neither have I. We both agreed that it was a lost cause. So, I'm back to Square Zero insofar as the job situation is concerned.
I should mention that I actually don't mind working at the Asylum. My position has given me leeway to do a lot of things. I have been able to build bridges and mend fences with other faculty and different staff members. This is no ordinary feat. The Asylum has been plagued with feuds and bad feeling for as long as I can remember. Working with most of the faculty has been rewarding. I enjoy talking with them and getting feedback. It's too bad that I don't expect the place to survive past next May. There are some quirky people there. And, because the pay is so low, greed and corruption run rampant. All in all, it's just another job, and jobs come and go.
An interesting tidbit. There's a babe student at the Asylum who now works part-time in the office. The strange part is that she looks a lot like Shirley. She's tall and lean. She has much longer hair, though. And, she's Filipino, whereas Shirley is Japanese. But, the facial resemblance is uncanny. I believe that her name is Shirley, too. Well, of course, the original Shirley is much more of a hottie.
Friday July 16
An uneventful day. One of my students at the Asylum told me that the new ownership's scheduling strategy changed again. I was dumbfounded because none of the faculty was told this. So, the schedule we were given yesterday was merely fodder. It turns out that Sam stopped by late yesterday afternoon and mandated the change. I am becoming more convinced that there is no real strategy. I sent my request to terminate another credit card. I wanted to close my American Express credit cards, but I have received free subscriptions to Honolulu magazine because of the latter. After the gym, I ended up at the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill. Pseudo-professor Glenn came by. So, we ended up at the Indigo Happy Hour. The martinis were extremely good today, and the food was excellent. I was able to catch my usual express bus. I wanted to go to Kahala Mall this evening. I wasn't really fatigued, but I decided to vegetate for the evening.
It is interesting how my random thoughts seem to provoke a lot of misconceptions. I have read what I wrote over and over again, but I fail to see how I am being condescending. And, who really cares? This is a journal. It's the journey of the mind. Let's see if this random thought generates more stupidity. I read in the paper that 60 percent of the population is considered overweight and 30 percent are simply obese. This clearly indicates that being a fat slob is all the rage. Frankly, I don't get it. Why do people want to be fat slobs? It costs a lot of dough to stuff one's face to gain hundreds of pounds. It's also expensive to keep buying larger and larger sizes of clothes. I've known people who were significantly overweight. They told me about all of the health issues that they incurred including heart problems and diabetes. They are in constant pain because the human skeletal structure was not designed to support that much weight. One does not become a fat slob overnight. It's a gradual, yet obvious process. Even now, I have put on at least five extra pounds in the gut. I can tell that it's there because it is very uncomfortable. I also feel more sluggish. I will admit that this problem is very similar to imbibing in liquor. There are fundamental psychological issues at play. When over half of the population is overweight and the divorce rate is over 50 percent, it becomes clear that the fabric of society is unraveling rapidly.
Then, there's the issue of Anonder. I have never met the guy, nor do I have any alliance with him. In fact, I differ with him on many points. However, there is one thing that I do admire about him. He's a man of conviction. He does what he says, and he has a clear and concise philosophy. It was pure coincidence that our paths crossed on the Net. I don't even remember how I came across his journal. I was later honored to discover that he wrote a brief treatise on the importance of anonymity with the oversized cranium in mind. Just recently, we got to see how right he was. Our thoughts about materialism and consumerism are quite similar. And, we both stumbled into this self-awareness by happenstance. I still remember when he gave up his beloved sausage-shaped sofa. This still inspires me today. Our thoughts about babes are quite similar. This is what I found to me most striking. He detailed his interactions with babes far more than I did. However, if I had done the same, there would have been striking similarities in our accounts. I understand the sheer frustration that finally resulted in the seemingly misogynistic position that he holds today. In the end, he continually receives a lot of flack for who he is. Why? He's just another person who wrote an on-line journal.
Saturday July 17
I neglected to mention that I ran into Professor Gordo yesterday. He was wearing his National Guard uniform since he is in the reserves. I asked him if he was trying to impress the babes. "A guy my age can only impress chicks in Tijuana, and it takes a lot of cash," he replied. I also did not mention that my 401(k) is in limbo. The plan was closed back in May, but there has been no word about the disposition of the money. It's only about $700, but I would rather have it rolled over into one of my safe IRAs.
I drove to the packaging place in Kuapa Kai. The folding metal shelf was put in a custom box. The cost was $16. I then drove over to the Post Office. I taped the mailing labels on the box and carried it in. The postage cost $40, which is not bad considering how heavy it was. Well, that's my final obligation fulfilled. My final note is on the return address label. It reads, "Have a good life!" I have nothing left that belongs to the former friend. Since it is obvious that I will never be forgiven, it is safe to assume that we will never see or hear from her again. The little time I have remaining in my own life gives me no leeway to waste any more thought on this matter. Farewell, former friend! Maybe we'll see you in another lifetime.
I embarked on the benign journey to Chez Loser. The transfer at Ala Moana went smoothly. I did some lanaiboy chores when I arrived. The two wayward plants are doing well. naturally, I had to finish off what was left of the bottle of wine in the fridge. I decided to walk to Safeway and get more wine. I took the recycling along and dropped it off. I bought a bottle of Vendage Cabernet Sauvignon and a deli sandwich. I spoke with Chip while I was walking back. "Another of your predictions came true," he said. He had just found out about the change of plans at the Asylum. When I returned to Chez Loser, I ate the sandwich. I then did a few other chores. Caroll called. We chatted for only a few minutes. She's selling cars again. She's also planning to move into an apartment. Out of curiosity, I asked her how much she made in commission per car. She said that, on average, she makes about $150 per car sold. She will have to sell a lot of cars to make a living. I am guessing that she now works long hours, seven days per week. She's repeating the cycle from a few years back. I just hope that she doesn't burn out again. I had a few more glasses of wine. Just to make sure that a few people get a good laugh, I should mention that I was a little hammered. I did not pass out on the floor, so those who have enjoyed my misery may not get full pleasure this time. The bus to town was late, so I did not make the transfer. I perused the Ross store for a while.
I decided to go to Kahala Mall after dinner. I had a can of salmon straight out of the can, by the way. I bought the new Bargrooves Frosted CD at Tower Records. This is the latest in the Bargrooves series. I cannot help the fact that I am addicted to House Music. It's about the only thing that really brings pleasure in my tortured life. I am listening to it as we speak. I also listen to Classical music, but it's just not the same. A lot of people make fun of me because I listen to Deep House. I never make fun of other people's musical tastes. Usually, people who pass judgment are the first to claim that I do the same. It's just a smokescreen. All of life is a smokescreen.
Sunday July 18
I actually did not feel fatigued this morning. Usually, I am illin' because of old man maladies. I hiked up Koko Head for the first time in a long time. Some older babe had set up a camera along the trail. As I passed by, she said that she took my picture. She is allegedly composing a picture book of East O'ahu. She wanted me to sign a release, which I did. Later, I had second thoughts. In this day and age, one should never sign anything unless proper credentials are presented. Anyway, if I become a victim of a scam, then I will have more adventures to write about.
Once again, I made the benign journey to Chez Loser in Kane'ohe. I did more lanaiboy chores. Then, I had to bust out the vino. You know the drill. Soon, it was time to go. I wanted to bypass Ala Moana like I did yesterday, so I got off in town again. Just as I got off, I thought I saw the bus that I had to transfer to. It was on its way. I walked to the bus stop. I asked some idiot if that certain bus had gone by. He said that only buses going to Ala Moana had passed. After ten minutes of waiting, I realized that the bus was long gone. Why I had listened to some illiterate clown, I do not know. I walked to the bus stop on King Street in order to have a better chance of catching a bus to Ala Moana. Well, I got there in time to peruse the Apple store for a few minutes. I wanted to go to Pier 1 this week, but I resisted the temptation. I can't spend any more money.
The negative cash flow situation is not improving. I've got to cut my expenses. So, I will drop down to the lowest cell phone plan next month. That will save $11 more per month. I've been tracking my minutes. I now use only about three minutes per month. I rarely answer or return calls anymore. Little wonder that I have no social life. I don't really miss going out. It's really no different than hanging out by myself. I have gained nothing from friendships and, therefore, they are all effectively terminated. I, robot, have spoken.
The morning paper had a series of articles which detailed the high cost of living in Hawai'i. We pay the highest electricity rate in the nation at about 16 cents per kilowatt-hour. Petrol is $2.30 for a gallon of the lowest octane rating. Milk is about $7 per gallon. It's easy to see why I have a negative cash flow. Nothing is affordable. My pay is in the poverty range. I've come to understand that all of life is a matter of economics. Poor people like myself can only be losers. Robert keeps telling me this, and he's right. According to him, we can have a real life if only we had big bank. Hence, we have no babes, no friends, no nothing. That's why he's on Prozac. Why didn't I listen to him?
Monday July 19
I neglected to mention that the From the Wilderness site has provided the transcript of A.M. Samsam Bakhtiari's opening statement at the Third International Workshop on Oil and Gas Depletion. Bakhtiari is the senior expert in the Iranian National Oil Company. He asserted the finite nature of oil, and he also discussed the fragile state of the Middle East. "It is the frontline of the Third World War; a war that has already influenced every single individual in the Middle East. I seriously doubt that the present war can be confined to that region only; sooner or later, it is bound to overspill and come to impinge on the lives of most world-citizens — with the exception, as usual, of the super-rich and the super-poor." There is murmuring about an alleged Iranian connection to the alleged "September 11th" terrorist attack. Let's hope that it is not a precursor to another mess like Iraq.
An uneventful day. I perused the Asylum's latest Fall schedule with little interest. I am only concerned that the new ownership's plans will fail, and many of us will end up in the unemployment line. Brad, the admissions director, is always presenting us with hyped-up figures. He claims that we now have 53 paid applicants, twice as many as we had last year. Mind you, these are not enrolled students. These numbers are pathetically low. In addition, there will be an exodus of current students once the schedule is unveiled. It's quite obvious that the reputation of the Asylum is very bad. No amount of advertising will cure this. The only way that enrollment will increase and stay at a decent number is to fix the problems that plague the place. The Asylum is not competitive with the other institutions in this niche market. It's too far behind. However, I firmly believe that it can succeed if it retains its local character and extended family approach. Many of the kids come from fairly large and dysfunctional families. They need a second home. Training and education can still be implemented under this approach. That was the Asylum's only competitive edge. Now, it has been forsaken that as well.
I chatted with Lori on the express bus this morning. She did the Tinman Triathlon yesterday. She said that she might give me a few plants to put out in my lanai. "You made the right decision, by the way," she said, referring to my purchase of Chez Loser. In effect, I feel the same way. I just can't seem to get used to not having any money leftover after I make the mortgage payment and pay the bills. Lori and her husband are doing extremely well. They put a water feature (read: pond) on their property. They are also going to do some extensive remodeling to the house. Contrast that with my pathetic situation. I could barely afford to buy that cheap broom at Long's. Sheesh!
I can see why a few people have ridiculed me for my stance on materialism. It is apparent to me that I have rather expensive tastes. I rarely indulge myself by purchasing expensive crap. Rather than buy another cheap K-Mart all-in-one stereo like I did back in Convalescent City, I decided to purchase the infamous Bose Acoustic Wave. I now only own Apple computers. If I bought another car, it was going to be a BMW Z-3. I have Pier 1 furniture, which is rather inexpensive. However, it's not K-Mart cheap. The key is to buy only what is needed, I suppose.
Tuesday July 20
An uneventful day. So far, student reaction at the Asylum has been lukewarm. I may have been wrong in my analysis. Most of these students would not even know how to transfer to another institution. Half of them have no idea about the details of their student loans. So, many of them are going to stay on. They also do not understand the new rules. They no longer can be absent for most of the term as they are used to. They will end up flunking out of school. In any case, the Asylum is still doomed.
I usually chat with one of the Diploma Mill staff at the bus stop. He works in one of the offices. I asked if he knew of any staff openings. There apparently is a position for a career counselor. The closing date has already passed, but I can probably submit an internal application. I also mentioned that Scot, the Asylum's former registrar, is now working at the Diploma Mill. He said that he had met Scot. I've got to start lining my ducks in a row. The Ninja Turds paid a surprise visit to moms this evening. They just happened to be in the neighborhood. What a laugh! The Turds may be getting a little anxious. Mrs. Turd bought some stuff for moms, which was surprising. I suspect that the games are going to accelerate as we move closer to Turd Jr.'s tenth B-day. Finally, moms told me that Troy, the neighbor's kid (not the House of Lolo), got married since his babe was pregnant.
My car registration has gone up by $26 and, according to this morning's paper, property taxes have gone up. The City is mailing out bills this week. It does not matter how much I try to save because I am thwarted at every turn. Then, I checked the Pier 1 site only to discover that the Mica Drum Lamp is no longer available. Damn it! FedEx apparently tried to deliver a package to me. I am suspicious because I did not order anything. It could be from Caroll because she said that she had a house-warming gift a few weeks ago. I can't think of anyone else who would send me anything.
Wednesday July 21
I checked the FedEx site last night. The package originated from Kansas City, so it is my 401(k) rollover information from American Century. Another person allegedly launched a complaint about me. The complaint stated that I was bad-mouthing the new ownership's plan to everyone, and I also told a student that, "If [he] didn't like it, [he] can leave." This whole thing smacks of Ernie, doesn't it? The treachery has increased again. No one can be trusted. Barbie decided to stay on as the new registrar. Two faculty members, Ken and John, are resigning. Roxanne, the financial aid director, is also planning to resign. I am not seeing any kind of cohesion. The Asylum is in total chaos. I finally was able to peruse the academic calendar. All State holidays have been eliminated. Federal holidays are observed. Spring Break is now only two days. And, all terms are back-to-back. When one term ends, then the next one starts the following day. Can anyone say "sweatshop"?
Lori and I ate lunch at Café Che Pasta. The food was delicious. We had an interesting discussion. There's a keystroke monitor on Lori's computer. She thinks that it's been used to glean information to access her various accounts. I told how how to find the log file and also how to find the executable in order to delete it. I stopped by the Human Resources office at the Diploma Mill after the gym. I came to discover that the visiting instructor position has been filled. It was apparently up to the math department to notify the rejects. However, the cowardly weasels told us nothing. I sent an e-mail to Pseudo-professor Franklin to let him know. I also learned that the career counselor position was closed. Interviews have already been scheduled, but I was told that I could still apply and see what happens.
My own strategy for life is now chaotic. I plan to stay on at the Asylum until I am done in by one of the many backstabbers. If I am terminated, then I will be able to collect unemployment compensation for six months. I have no plans to sell the townhouse. I have put a temporary moratorium on the divestiture of my remaining useless possessions. I am now shifting my focus to find a new job. In addition, I will do what I can to keep my present jobs as long as I can. The name of the game is survival.
Thursday July 22
I moved back to Hawai'i about seven years ago. Family obligation, I told myself, which was true. Moms and pops were in their late seventies. There wasn't much time left. Sure enough, pops passed on quite suddenly. During this time, my family dynamic took a turn for the worse. The rift between the Ninja Turds and I grew, mainly over what I suspect is "the inheritance." I also came to the conclusion that Hawai'i in no way resembled the home that I had left many moons ago. Yet, the damned cultural family obligation kept me here. I've grown more jaded as the months turned to years. I am growing older and more decrepit as I wait for moms' time to come. Essentially, I am wasting the last of my useful years. It has become quite apparent that moms will continue on for at least 15 more years. Moms is 83 years old, but quite healthy. Moms is rarely sick, and takes no medication. Moms is also fully ambulatory, doing housework and yardwork regularly. In fifteen years, I may not be around. That's the irony of this whole situation. It would be easy for most people to say, "Time to go! Time to go!" However, I cannot do that.
So, what's the irony? Lori has pointed out to me that moms lives a life of service. That's moms' whole purpose for living. If neither the Ninja Turds or I were in close proximity (i.e., moms lived alone), then I am certain that moms would not have survived this long. Yet, to fulfill my obligation, I am choking the life out of myself. I am living the life of an automation. To complicate matters, I really haven't figure out where I should be, both geographically and psychologically. Perhaps, chronologically as well.
Yesterday, I saw Glenn and some of the other Asylum people sitting in one of the other restaurants after I walked Lori to the bus stop. I went in to chat with them. "Who's that babe you were with?" Glenn asked. Lori still looks good at fourty-four, especially when she dolls up. In fact, Lori said that she would be trying out for an aerobics instructor position after she attends a certification class. She said that she would let me know if she starts doing classes. Then, I can join in. I missed doing those aerobics classes, and not for the obvious. Yes, there are a lot of babes. However, those aerobics classes are really rough for guys. Aside from the coordination, the moves require agility and immense stamina.
An uneventful day. The stress level is increasing at the Asylum. I am not too happy with my own schedule. I've been given a night class, which starts at 8pm and goes to 10pm. It's also four days per week. I have to be at work at 8am every day, so I will be in town from 8am until 10pm. It's fairly obvious that the plan is to force me to resign. I am not the only target, so this is not just a case of paranoia. I chatted with Pseudo-professor Ralph at the Diploma Mill after the gym. He said that one of the math faculty is being called into active service (i.e., Iraq), so there will be another short-term open slot. I also had an interesting discussion after class with Joo, one of my students. She's a 38-year old Korean babe. I discussed my methodology of conducting classes since she had sent me e-mail stating that she thought I was too lenient with most of the students. As a "non-traditional" student, she did not realize the inherent difficulty of teaching a required, non-major class full of twenty-something kids.
Speaking of the gym, I have been keeping up my regimen. I increased the resistance in my cardio workout. So, I have actually reduced most of the small "spare tire" in less than two weeks. My weight program is a compressed version of a half-pyramid. I am surprised that it has actually kept my physique quite toned. I don't build any more body mass, but I can maintain somewhat of a "ripped" look. So, I have not let myself go. I am not a fat slob. I plan to stay this way for a long time, and it has nothing to do with babes. The babe situation is another story. I have actually reverted back to eunuch status by default. I have had my fill of babes, especially young hotties. I only have one young hottie friend left. That would be Shirley. I have intentionally distanced myself from her. Young hotties are quite troublesome. Well, all babes are troublesome. I still worry about Shirley. I know that she's spending the Summer surfing and working part-time at Daiei. She should have looked for a Summer job close to her field of study, since she is graduating soon. I already can see what's up the road. She will graduate at 25 and find herself still working at Daiei. She will continue on in the "cocoon" until she gets married. The guy, of course, will have to make big bank for them to survive. Well, that's neither here nor there. I have to worry about my own precarious situation.
Friday July 23
An uneventful day. We are waiting for the shit to hit the fan in the Fall at the Asylum. It has been confirmed that Roxanne is resigning. Another computer faculty, Juanita, is rumored to be resigning as well. She is one of the night faculty, so I will probably be assigned her classes with no additional pay. I was extremely tired after I finished my workout at the gym. One of my babe students, Alexis, was just coming in as I was leaving. We chatted briefly. I ended up in the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill for a few minutes. Pseudo-professor Kai was there. He wants me to hang out with him and his daughter sometime this weekend. After dinner, I drove to Kuapa Kai. I went to City Mill to check on the prices of fluorescent lights. Whoa! Too high! I can live with the one dead light tube. I also went to Ross. I was hoping to find a nice accent rug for cheap. The cheap ones were too small and not very nice. The rest of the rugs looked like the one I bought from K-Mart. Oh well. I can live without the rug as well.
Moms was preparing all kinds of food again, so I know the Ninja Turds will be by tomorrow. I give moms money and, the next thing I know, there's $70 worth of food in the fridge, all for the Turds. Moms cooks enough food to last the Turds about two weeks. So, essentially, moms is cooking for the Turds. Mrs. Turd can't cook anything except that one shitty casserole dish. What I am really worried about is the future. The entire family's asset is moms' house. Well, there's Chez Loser, too. I do not know how much money moms has left, but it can't be much. If moms should ever require "assisted" living, then things are going to get rough. I am not sure how any of us can afford it. If moms gives the house to the Turds, will they sell the place in order to help moms? Or, will I be the one to give up my assets?
Caroll called. She seems to be doing fine now. She sold 15 cars so far this month. So, she's bringing in a lot of dough. However, she's working twelve-hour days, seven days per week. She's done this before. It's a matter of time before she burns out again. She wants to come to Hawai'i to visit. However, I will be working extreme hours in Fall as well. So, I would never see her. In addition, Chez Loser is currently not set up for guests. I will have to stay in Hawai'i Kai during that time anyway. The buses to Kane'ohe stop running before 10pm, if you can believe it.
Saturday July 24
Moms spent all morning preparing food to cook. I did my tanning hike up Koko Head. Then, I packed the broom, my tools and a ladder in my six-four. I stopped off to buy some petrol. I also stopped by Foodland to purchase more vino and a sandwich for lunch. The drive to Kane'ohe was horrendous. Traffic was terrible. When I drive, I usually take the coastal route to Kailua. I was a nervous wreck when I arrived. I did my lanaiboy chores. I trimmed the ginger plant. Then, I cleaned all the dung out of a patch of dirt. Someone's kitty has been real busy. I took gravel from the surrounding landscaping and filled the dirt patch. I was tempted to leave a bowl of antifreeze for kitty. I swept out the storage closet and the whole lanai. It looks pretty good now. I ate my sandwich for lunch. Afterward, I moved the Pier 1 furniture around in the living room. It looks a lot better now. I also realized that the base of the papasan chair was upside-down all this time. I decided to imbibe in my favorite beverage. After a few glasses, I removed the light kit from the ceiling fan in the living room. It looked too dorky. I was going to remove the ceiling fan from the dining area, but thought better of it. I do not want to spend any dough to buy a light fixture. I also checked the fluorescent light fixture in the kitchen to make sure that it was working. Then, I walked to Ace Hardware to buy a light tube. It was $7. When I returned to Chez Loser, I realized that I bought one that was too short. Was I too hammered to note the length? I was quite perturbed by own stupidity. I drove back to the store to exchange it. Turns out that the longer one was only $2. What a deal! I finished off a whole bottle of Corbett Canyon Cabernet Sauvignon. At 5pm, I decided that it was time to leave. The traffic was really bad again, which made for a grueling trip. However, I got a lot done today, and I did not have to see the Ninja Turds.
I wanted to go to Kahala Mall this evening, but I was just too fatigued. While I was at Chez Loser, I tried to figure out what people do when they just stay at home. If I do not have any specific chores, then I all I have to do is drink wine and pass out on the floor. I surmise that many people watch the tube or play with the computer all day. What else is there to do? Until I buy that big-ass plasma tube, I won't have much to do. Therefore, I have to spend a lot of time shuttling around on the bus. I really missed the bus ride today. I can no longer tolerate driving.
Caroll called. She sold another car, so she's making a lot of dough. It's funny how we alternate our pathetic lives. When I am doing okay, she's going through hell. Now, I am going through hell, and she's doing good. The rest of the year is going to be rough for me. I am not certain if I will have enough classes at the Diploma Mill to supplement the chump change that I earn at the Asylum. In any case, I am not sure how much longer I can afford the mortgage.
Sunday July 25
Caroll sounded quite positive yesterday. She wasn't complaining endlessly about her job or lack of money. She did not even mention anything about the trailer park tenants. Her new jobs always start out very well. Then, something goes wrong in about three months. As for me, I am now on the downhill slide insofar as wage slavery is concerned. "You need faith," Caroll said. I already knew that, but faith is oftentimes difficult to find when one is being shoved face first into the toilet bowl.
Interest rates for mortgages have gone down, so the housing boom has picked up again. I've never seen so many places for sale. There are two more units in my complex that are for sale. The fee simple unit is going for $299,000. This is an all-time high. The unit across from Chez Loser is now occupied by another couple. I am the only single person in the whole complex. Prices around the island are even more ridiculous, but people are still buying. The only cheap places are still in Wai'ana'e. Sheesh!
I embarked on the benign journey to Chez Loser earlier than usual. I arrived at 12:30pm, after finally making the transfer at Ala Moana. I did a few more lanaiboy chores. I really wanted to get hammered again, but I resisted the temptation. That left me with nothing to do, so I left. I really wanted to go to Pier 1, but I decided not to. I got off the bus in town and discovered that I missed the transfer by a couple of minutes again. So, I looked around Ross. After I returned to Hawai'i Kai, I washed and waxed my six-four. This is not a chore that I look forward to doing. However, I will need to keep my sic-four looking decent if I want to sell it. I also did some minor detailing. It's amazing, but my six-four almost looks like new. Well, I actually got a lot done this weekend. As always, I never do anything fun.
When I was at the projects in Kane'ohe, I observed that I have nothing to do there. I have no tube. There's no phone service. There's still no hot water as I have yet to have the gas turned on. The microwave oven is still in the box. There's no sense in setting up my Bose Acoustic Wave since the "house rules" do not allow for loud music. As a matter of fact, I never hear any noise in the whole place. It's as if no one is home anywhere. I believe that the homeowner's association is very strict. I knew this before I bought in. However, it truly is odd to not hear a sound, even from the common wall neighbors.
To be continued ... Go to E.05
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