The Exodus Files
Sinister Kahuna Day Update - October 31, 2005 (continued)
I drove to Ala Moana on Friday night to see the new Barnes & Noble store. What a place! It was huge compared to the one in Kahala. I spent a couple of hours there.
I picked up moms at noon on Saturday. We spent the afternoon at Ala Moana Center. First, we ate bento lunch at Shirokiya. Then, moms and I went shopping. We returned to Hawai'i Kai at 4pm. I sat and ate ice cream with moms. I spent a little more time chatting. We made arrangements to meet at Kahala Mall on Wednesday. I enjoyed the afternoon outing with moms. I felt good because, for once, I seemed to have a sense of purpose. I went to the gym and ended up at Kahala Mall. I rented two DVDs from Tower Records. I also bought a big-ass bottle of Vendage Merlot. I drank half of the bottle while watching the movies. I could hear the morons upstairs making all kinds of noise. I was on the verge of committing mayhem.
I polished off the rest of the big-ass bottle of wine on Sunday afternoon. I had also polished off a smaller 750ml bottle of wine earlier in the week. The morons upstairs were making all kinds of noise. Most of the noise was caused by IdiotBoy. I drove to Hawai'i Kai to go to the gym. Then, I ended up at Kahala Mall. I returned the DVDs. Then, I did a little shopping at Long's. When I returned home, it was a little quiet until IdiotBoy returned from his peon job. IdiotBoy and his mommy got into it again. From what I can tell, IdiotBoy's mommy is pressuring IdiotBoy to find another job. It also sounded like the fools were in some kind of financial bind.
John at Local Motion called on Monday morning while I was still at The Seminary. Our surfboards are done and will be delivered to the Hawai'i Kai store tomorrow. I called him back to let him know that Lori and I will not be able to pick up the boards until the weekend. I am not sure if I am physically able to handle surfing. I may need to trade the board for a motorized chair. Sheesh! Professor Lisa sent a lengthy e-mail. I believe that she is having a tough time adjusting to Boston. In addition, she has become cognizant of the vanity of modern life.
Well, this is life as I know it. There will be some tough times ahead. In two weeks, I will be down to four months left at Chez Loser. I am becoming quite stressed out about my immediate future. Lord, have mercy!
Veteran's Day Update - November 11, 2005
Sinister Kahuna Day came and went without incident. Frankly, I was surprised. Perhaps I don't seem to realize that the current situation is the incident. My precarious situation is the result of the sinister kahuna's machinations.
I tried to remain focused during these troubled times, but that had been a difficult task. In retrospect, I believe that the discontinuity of the journal has resulted in obtuse and often confused thinking. The journal updates have been devoid of real thought. I have not recorded any substantial ponderings. I have been tempted to restore the journal to daily entries. Somehow, I just can't seem to commit to the latter. Incidentally, Shirley sent me a Happy Halloween text message. She has yet to return my spare keys.
My finances remained stable through November 1st. My IRA bond fund had been responsible for about a $300 loss for the month of October. However, interest for my money market and bond fund exceeded $900 for the same period. My reserves are still close to $8,500 on average, even given the tremendous amount of spending that I have done recently and given my lower income stream. The surfboards and accessories will cost me $1,000 at most. I am not too worried about that.
My real worries still centered on the disposition of Chez Loser and my subsequent living arrangements. An eleventh-hour scenario could easily leave me homeless. Debbie, my realtor, had been sending me listings for places in the Chez Loser complex. The most current listed unit like mine was going for $379,900 fee simple. Oddly, the leasehold units were going for only slightly less.
The beginning of November found me fatigued and listless. I have not had any kind of vacation since December of last year. The treachery at the Asylum pushed me further into the abyss. I will have a five-week vacation after December 9th. I am not going to travel anywhere. Instead, I am going to try to recover from all the crap that's been going on. I hope to visit moms more often and get some surf time in with Lori. I will also begin cleaning and doing repairs in Chez Loser. Well, that's the plan.
The babe situation did not want to go away. I have had intrusive thoughts about babes. I went so far as to ponder the idea of finding a babe. What a fool! A babe would be detrimental to everything that I have worked toward. My destiny is to plod through life alone. My whole methodology for survival involves only one person. That person is the ol' lavahead. In addition, the world and society in general is self-destructing. It's a just matter of time before all hell breaks loose. I have to beat Armageddon to the punch by forcing myself down Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs. Soon, the terms "freedom" and "survival" will be synonymous. In any case, the babe situation is moot. As I stated previously, all I need is a few hurdy-gurdy DVDs and my hand. Sheesh!
I met moms at Kahala Mall at noon on Wednesday, right after my class at The Seminary. We ate at Panda Express as usual. After lunch, I sat with moms at the bus stop and chatted. My trip back to town was marred by some clown sitting close to me who had the infamous Kim Chee breath. Lori called and left a message. She also sent e-mail. She apparently went by the Local Motion store and checked out our new surfboards. Lori seemed rather excited about resuming our surfing expeditions.
On a whim, I called Caroll. We have not chatted for over two months. She was driving somewhere, so our conversation was brief. Apparently, her 80-year old uncle is staying with her and is draining her resources. She did not appear to be doing any better since I last chatted with her. However, she is still alive and has cell phone service. Caroll is a survivor. Yet, I wonder how long she will be able to continue to barely make ends meet.
Anonder contacted me by e-mail, something that I had been anticipating. He seemed to be doing fine, although he did not detail his daily regimen. He mentioned that idle time was not an issue for him. Anonder is planning to depart for Greece next Summer. I have to admit that the latter sounded like a good decision. From the pictures I've seen of Greece, it is quite a beautiful place. Historical sites still abound, which would make the trip even more exciting. The only drawback is that Greece is a romantic destination. I've probably never mentioned in the journal that one of my old graduate school friends, Constantine, was from Greece. In fact, there are many stories which remain untold.
Many times during the day I envision moms waving good-bye to me from the bus. The latter invokes visions from the past when I waved good-bye to moms as I was departing for the mainland. During my 27 years on the mainland, there were times that I only visited my family once every four years. Moms always kept in touch by writing and calling almost every week. All the while, moms and pops were concerned about me. I was too busy having a good time. In retrospect, that is my greatest regret. Even during the last seven years since my return to Hawai'i, I did not fulfill my obligation as a good son. Now, when moms is 83 years old, I am trying to undo my past actions. Mind you, I am not forced by guilt to remain in Hawai'i. That is what I want to do.
I wondered about what would have happened had I returned to Hawai'i much sooner, say, twenty years ago. Where would I have been now? What would I be doing? Would I have gotten married and had kids? I suspect that I would have ended up the same, with the exception that I would probably have been more financially secure.
I chatted with Professor Ray briefly on Thursday evening in the faculty computer room. He decided to resign from the Diploma Mill and return to the mainland at the end of the term. I discovered that he and I share the same opinions about Hawai'i, even though he is a relative newcomer and I am kama'aina. Basically, the jist of the conversation was the "Lost Paradise" theme. Hawai'i has essentially become a tropical ghetto. The "Aloha Spirit" is long gone. The only remaining good point is the weather.
Pseudo-professor Glenn sent e-mail that he and Nancy were going to be at Indigo Happy Hour at the usual time before the Art Walk. I decided to meet them there. Pseudo-professor Glenn had invited another faculty member from Tokai University. She was an older but attractive babe. She is from another country, but I was not able ascertain which one. She spoke with an accent. Ironically, she teaches English at Tokai. She went along to view an exhibit by another Tokai faculty at one of the art galleries. However, Pseudo-professor Glenn told me that he was really trying to set me up. I told him that I appreciated the gesture. I won't be going back to the Indigo again, by the way. One of the bartenders, a skinny wimp faggot with a ponytail, was extremely rude. In addition, the food was set out very early, so I missed my chance to eat. Fortunately, there was a lot of good food at the Louis Pohl Gallery.
I had to go back to the Diploma Mill briefly during the Art Walk. Robert was in the faculty computer room. We chatted for a bit. He has still not found a job. His unemployment benefits run out in December. He mentioned that he's planning a B-day bash for himself. He wants his band to play at the event.
My general mood became overly irritable by the end of the first week of November. My patience was at an all time low. With over a month left in the school term, there was little doubt that I would be pushed to the edge of sanity. Everyone was getting on my nerves. The stress of waiting until March to sell Chez Loser, the thought of finding a dump to rent, selling the furniture, paying to put in new carpeting, all of this was bringing me closer to insanity. My days are filled with nothing but annoyances. I deal with apathetic students, rude people, and moronic neighbors. I spend at least three hours each day waiting for and commuting on the bus. On the days that I travel to The Seminary, I must add another hour or so to the latter. There's no peace and quiet until about 5pm when I find myself alone in the faculty computer center at the Diploma Mill. Oddly, I spend that time listening to House Music on DI.fm. Why has my life come to this?
Rob, the IT guy at the Asylum, responded to my e-mail. He is definitely resigning on November 15th. There will be a small get-together at one of the local watering holes to celebrate his departure. He's also planning to sell his place. We are tentatively discussing a shared rental situation once we both sell our respective places.
On Saturday, I ended up in town to do some work. Instead, I composed my journal and listened to House Music. I also restored my monk haircut. Lori called to tell me that John was not working at the Local Motion store. She stopped by there on the way to the gym. I had planned to have us pick up the boards, but I changed my mind as the day went on. Even surfing does not seem to matter to me. As I sat in the faculty computer room, I tried to envision myself being "free." What would I do? Where would I be? All I could imagine was myself in a small studio with my Papasan chair and an Apple PowerBook. All I would do is listen to House Music on the Net or watch hurdy-gurdy DVDs. By that time, I would have hundreds of hurdy-gurdies. So pathetic.
When I returned to Chez Loser, I sat in the Papasan chair. Moms called at 6pm to invite me to dinner. I left immediately for Hawai'i Kai. I ended up eating dinner and talking story with moms. My bro was getting ready to go out with Lance and Denny, two guys who grew up in da 'hood. I really don't care to visit on the weekends when my bro and his family are home. I feel as though I am intruding. I was happy to spend time with moms. I stopped at Kahala Mall and rented "I, Robot" at Tower Records. I enjoyed the movie even though some portions were not credible.
On Sunday, I left for Hawai'i Kai at 1:30pm. When I arrived, I called Lori and left a message that we could pick up the surfboards later. Lori met me at Local Motion at 3:45pm. I tried to pay for the surfboards with my credit card, but Chase Bank denied it. That set off a red flag with the merchant's bank. I had to call Chase Customer Service several times. Each time, I had to recite my name, credit card number, mother's maiden name, etc. Apparently, Chase will deny charges if the latter do not seem to match the cardholder's consumption patterns. "Old guys aren't out buying $900 in surf gear," Lori said, trying to throw humor in the situation. "You should have brought your AARP card." I don't think that John, the sales guy, caught the humor. He probably does not even believe that Lori and I are as old as we are. We finally squared away the credit card situation, or so I thought. We loaded up our new surfboards in the truck. We have our leashes and board wax, too. John was nice enough to to throw in the tailgate pad for free as well. I drank a couple of brewskis at Lori's place after I transported her board. Lori, Kirk, and I chatted for a few minutes. Later in the evening, I wondered whether all of this was an omen to stay out of the water. There was also an interesting article in the Saturday morning paper about a middle-aged guy who almost lost an eye because his surfboard hit him in the face.
On Monday, I checked the Chase site and discovered that there were seven same exact charges of $926 from Local Motion. I had to call Chase Customer Service to clear the matter. I am not sure why that nonsense happened. Yesterday, I was told that my credit card was suspected as stolen. Then, the story changed. The charge was denied because of "unusual" spending patterns. During the last call, I was told that a new card was issued because my current card was expiring in December. So, large charge amounts were being scrutinized. It all sounded bogus to me.
I sent e-mail to Lori about the foolish credit card fiasco. In her reply, Lori seemed excited about starting up surfing again with our own boards. I still have to purchase a rash guard. Then, we have to identify good locations to surf that are not overly crowded. Our boards are seven-footers. They are not shortboards, but are categorized technically as funboards. Semantics aside, those boards are going to be a challenge for us. I just hope that we don't end up breaking our necks. Sheesh!
Sleep has alluded me for weeks. I became more and more delirious as the days passed. Lack of sleep had contributed to my general malaise more than anything else. Stress had been increasing steadily, mostly because of my uncertain future.
The disposition of my medical plan was unknown until Wednesday. I met moms at Kahala Mall for lunch. She brought along a couple of pieces of mail. They were both from Kaiser. My medical plan was terminated on Sinister Kahuna Day. How fitting. I called the moron Human Resources guy at the Asylum. I was ready to go ballistic on him. Why didn't the moron send me the COBRA forms? He claimed that he did not even know that I was phased out of the Asylum. I almost bought into his bullshit until I realized that he (the moron) was the primary for all employee benefits. The Asylum is full of spineless worms. So, I have no medical plan. How can I go out surfing without a medical plan? What if I am injured? I told moms about starting up surfing again and also about the loss of my medical benefits. "You better make out your will," moms told me. Sheesh! I'm sure that moms did not mean it that way. I waited with moms at the bus stop. We had a nice chat. The bus was late, so I had to walk across the street to catch my bus to get back to the Diploma Mill. Moms was still waiting with several other people when my bus arrived. I waved good-bye to moms. Moms waved back. It is always at that precise moment that I realize what I must do.
The sinister kahuna always tries to confuse and obfuscate the situation in order to bamboozle the ol' lavahead. That's why I must always remain vigilant. I must keep focused on what is most important to me. Then, I will be able to make proper life decisions without worrying about having regrets in the future.
My finances and the disposition of Chez Loser continued to etch stress into my psyche. On Tuesday, I was beginning to see everything in a skewed manner. A unit in the Chez Loser complex is available for rent at $1,800 per month. As outragreous as this may sound, that rent was completely plausible. The major implication, of course, was that rent amounts are going up all over the island. I performed a few mental calculations and became quite fearful. I could be jumping from the proverbial frying pan right into the fire by selling Chez Loser. The latter exercise in stupidity only dictated that a thorough pro forma analysis needs to be implemented very soon. However, I must also remember my priorities. Keeping Chez Loser may detract from what is truly important.
My precarious financial situation is also the culmination of preempting all purchases of necessary sundries. Thus, I stand to be a victim of the "nickel and dime" syndrome which leads to financial chaos. I need a new gym bag, some new clothes, new gym shorts, new underwear, and so forth. Almost everything is worn out.
Well, a lot of things are changing. I am never going back to Indigo Happy Hour. I'm still trying to cut back on cheap booze. I will be getting back into surfing, now that I have my own board. Stress continues to build to a fever pitch as all of the uncertainties are tugging at me from all directions. I yearn to be free but, ironically, I am more enslaved than ever before. I have become a social recluse. I no longer enjoy chatting with people. I have done nothing to stay in touch with friends. In fact, I have done more to avoid them. Talking is now a chore for me. It takes considerable effort for me to converse with people for even brief moments.
In several moments of weakness, I noticed all of the young hotties around me. Then, I realized what a true fool I was. When I ran into Robert on Friday, I did not have to ask him about the babe situation. I knew that he was still holding out for a young hottie, that is, in his dreams. He was tranferring files onto his USB flash drive in the faculty computer room. I suspected the latter were hurdy-gurdy files. When I look at Robert and try to imagine him with a young hottie, I only see a distinct incongruence. That's exactly how foolish I would look with a young hottie or any babe, for that matter.
Speaking of Robert, he called on Wednesday evening. He is planning his B-day party. It's now going to be at O'Tooles' in town on Sunday, even though his B-day isn't for another two weeks. He invited the ol' lavahead. His band will also be there performing. We briefly discussed my health plan dilemma. Robert has been taking advantage of COBRA for his health plan. No doubt, he is paying close to $300 per month. He also made contingency plans to return to the Legal Aid Society next year if he cannot secure another position elsewhere. When I returned to Chez Loser, I immediately departed for Safeway. I bought a bottle of La Crema Chardonnay. It was on sale for $13 or so. I drank the whole bottle, vowing once again to go "on the wagon." I do not have a choice. Paying for my health plan will incur another $250 monthly expense over the $500 per month deficit that I already accrue each month.
The insurance scandal robs all of us blind. Car insurance is $900 per year. Health and dental insurance will cost over $3,000 per year. The reason for such exorbitant costs is simply the fact that the masses of morons are being amortized by people who rarely cash in with insurance claims. I only visit the dentist twice per year. And, I visit my doctor once per year. That's $1,000 per visit on average. I only have about 50 days left to decide whether I want to continue my health plan under COBRA.
The idiots upstairs continued to annoy and baffle me. I am not certain how they are able to afford to live. They must pay rent which is close to my mortgage. In addition, they have two cars. One is new, albeit a cheap piece of shit Kia Sportage. They barely work. On my late days, I leave at 9:30am. Both the fools are always still asleep. I suspect that they are collecting some kind of welfare.
The early morning bus is gradually turning into a homeless transport service. I've listened to a number of those people. They apparently camp out somewhere past Kahalu'u. Personal hygiene is evidentally out of the question for these people. I am not looking down upon them, mind you. I am very close to being homeless myself. What really gets to me is that the homeless have a better (and free) medical plan (MedQuest) than I do.
This is the state of affairs as of Veteran's Day. It seems as though I am moving closer to financial collapse as well as insanity. I can only hope and pray that everything will turn out fine in the next few critical months ahead.
Thanksgiving Day 2005 Update
On Thursday evening, Pseudo-professor Ralph gave me a ride back to Chez Loser. His wife had taken the kids to see a play. So, I called him later to see if he wanted to drop back a few Guiness brewksis. He later came by Chez Loser. We sat around drinking brewskis and listening to the fat fucks stomp and slam shit around all evening. Oh, what fun we had!
Veteran's Day was uneventful. I rode the bus to town to go to the gym. Then, later in the evening, I drove to Kahala Mall. I ended up renting a couple of movies at Tower Records. More "nickel and dime" bullshit. Well, I needed some kind of diversion from the racket created by the two fat fucks living upstairs.
I've been going to the gym every day. I still have no hot water in Chez Loser, which is good incentive to get me into the gym on weekends. Without a health plan, I must do everything in my power to maintain some semblance of physical fitness.
On Saturday, I ended up in town. IdiotBoy's mommy actually went to work in the morning (the first time all week). IdiotBoy got up late because he came home at 2pm. Naturally, the two fat fucks woke me up with all the stomping and yelling. IdiotBoy is a bigger loser than I ever was. He has nothing to do all day. He watches the tube and calls up his loser buddies. He then paces and stomps around while he talks on the phone. The fat fucks also have a piece of shit La-Z-Boy chair. Everytime they park one of their fat asses in the chair, it makes a sound like an anvil hitting the floor. It wouldn't be so bad, but the fat fucks can't seem to park their fat asses in the chair very long. I have observed that losers of this type normally have nervous, attention deficit tendencies.
On Saturday evening, I drove to Ala Moana Center. I shopped around for a budget surfboard sock. I bought one at Hawai'ian Island Creations for $31 or so. That only leaves the purchase of a rash guard. I priced those at $30 on average. The board sock was necessary to protect the board in storage and in transit. I spent the rest of the evening at Barnes & Noble. I began to understand Anonder's preoccupation with daydreaming. It is about the only inexpensive activity to engage in. All I can do in the evenings is hang out at one of the various shopping malls. Eventually I end up purchasing something even if it is just a cup of Joe. Everything costs money, and there is not much return value. The latter is the mainstay of this detestable consumerist society.
The surf conditions were excellent through Veteran's Day and the weekend. Lori and I did not make it out there. Heck, we haven't even waxed our boards yet. I am looking at the early part of December as being the starting point of surfing again. I must also begin cleaning and preparing Chez Loser for sale. The lanai needs some work. I must trim the plants and dig out some stray fern growth. I still need to sell the furniture and prepare to put in new carpet. March is just around the corner. Needless to say, I will definitely find time to go to the beach and use my new board.
The moronic neighbors upstairs started arguing at 9:30am on Sunday morning. The arguments were on-and-off through noon. I finally decided to call the cops. I also filed another incident report with the resident manager. The cops arrived after the morons had stopped arguing. Nonetheless, the brief visit ended the possibility of continued stupidity. The two fat fucks were extremely noisy for the rest of the afternoon. Lots of stomping and door slammin'. I finally left at 3:30pm. My nerves were shot. As I drove along the coast, I observed that the surf conditions were flat. I did my workout at the gym in Hawai'i Kai. I ended up at Kahala Mall to return the rented DVDs. I bought a deli sandwich at Star Supermarket for dinner. I ate the sandwich in my truck. I felt like a homeless loser. It brought back old memories of when I really was homeless.
I drove to town and parked near the Diploma Mill. Then, I walked to O'Toole's, which is close to the Asylum. Robert was not there when I arrived. I chatted with a couple of his band members. I recognized them from when I attended one of their rehearsals. I was just leaving when I literally ran into Robert. We chatted briefly. Then, I departed. I was too tired, and I had to get up early for work the next day. The band that was playing was loud and awful, which made matters worse. I did manage to ask him if he was still going to the gym. It sounded as though he had not gone back since about two months ago. He paid for a three membership, so he has wasted a lot of money.
On Monday, I met moms for lunch at Kahala Mall. As usual, we ate at Panda Express. I was very happy to see moms. After lunch, moms and I sat outside and chatted. The bus arrived on time. I waved good-bye to moms. Robert called and left a message. He thanked me for showing up to his party. I was glad that I went, albeit just for a few minutes. I can barely keep up with any social obligations anymore.
Matson has raised the shipping rates to Hawai'i by 3.9 percent. That's going to translate into even higher costs for goods and services. Mostly everything is shipped via Matson. I will have to revamp my cost-cutting strategies to save even more non-existent money. As of November 15th, my IRA bond fund has lost about $500 or so. My reserves are down to $7,900 as well. However, my overall net worth has not changed, mostly because of the money market interest accruing monthly.
I have become quite fatigued in the evenings. All I do is watch the damned tube. There is nothing else for me to do. I could walk to Windward Mall, I suppose. Window shopping is just so much fun! Really? No, not really. My quality of life has declined significantly. The punchline is that the latter is costing hella dough. I am paying out an outrageous sum of money to live like an endentured slave. Sheesh!
I only have a few more good years left. What I mean by the term "good" is the ability to remain ambulatory. I want to spend those last few years without stress. I want to work at my piddly part-time faculty position and have a modest place to live. I want to be able to spend time with moms and also go surfing. That's all I want to do. I don't need the rest of the shit. Is this just too much to ask?
The health insurance bullshit stressed me out beyond my own comprehension. Everyone whom I discussed this matter with has stated that health insurance is a must, given the amount of money I would stand to lose "just in case" something were to happen. The insurance industry is legalized fraud. We are all being robbed blind by these charlatans. I received the COBRA documents from the Asylum. According to the latter, I have only 30 days to buy into the plan. The Asylum wasted fifteen days by not notifying me of the plan termination. I also noted that I was apparently fired from the Asylum. The weasels could not even tell that to my face. However, my health plan should have terminated at the end of Spring. So, the ineptness of the Asylum staff had benefited me.
I requested information from Kaiser about buying into an individual plan (read: "conversion"). I discovered that the Diploma Mill allows part-time faculty to buy into its group plan. I am even more perturbed that the premiums for health insurance are so high. I can only surmise that the rate structure is designed to amortize the myriad hypochondriacs and fat fucks who visit the clinic quite regularly.
I joined Rob, the former Asylum IT guy, at Murphy's on Tuesday afternoon. Glen, Milton, and Internet Jon were also there. We chatted briefy about the Asylum. I was proud that Rob had resigned from the Asylum. Rob and the other guys are counting on Internet Jon to hire them for some new venture. I am wary of Internet Jon. Glen has been waiting for close to year now for something to pan out. Internet Jon allegedly headed up the firm which was the Net service provider for the Asylum. My guess is that Internet Jon's parents were the funding source for that venture. In fact, I believe that his parents continue to fund his permanent vacation to this day. We also chatted about Kevin. Everyone seems to believe that Kevin had something to do with my demise (or emanciaption, depending on one's perspective) from the Asylum.
I spent the rest of Tuesday evening in front of the tube. I watched the movie, "Office Space." It was actually quite humorous and appropos with regard to wage slavery. Then, I watched a "Cops" marathon on CourtTV. This benign life-style is beginning to affect my sanity.
The surf report from Wednesday indicated major swells on the North and West shores of O'ahu. Those waves were too big for the geriatric surfing crowd. As it stands, early December will be when Lori and I will be able to start up surfing again. I probably should have a health plan in place before then. No telling what will happen when we hit the surf with our seven-foot surfboards.
An article in paper on Wednesday indicated that the two largest HMOs, Kaiser and HMSA, are both experiencing some financial difficulties. That's going to translate into higher premiums in the near future. The cost of living in Hawai'i is escalating out of control. I was able to find out details of the Diploma Mill group health plan. I can buy into the plan at a cost of $268 per month for medical, dental, and vision coverage. It's about the same as I would pay under COBRA. However, I have only a limited time to sign up under the latter. I am waiting for documentation about individual health plans. As it stands, I will probably nix COBRA and buy into the Diploma Mill health plan early next year. Thus, I will risk at least three months without any health plan. There is no other cost effective solution.
The condo association is going to raise the maintenance fee for the Chez Loser complex on January 1st by $10 per month. I am planning to drop my cell phone plan to save $12 per month. Obviously, every single one of my cost-cutting strategies is thwarted by higher costs.
I was a complete zombie by Friday. All I could think about was the movie, "Office Space." I have vowed to add it to my DVD collection. It is a classic. Pseudo-professor Dorothy and I joined Pseudo-professor Ralph at Skippy's Café for dinner. When I returned to Chez Loser, I was too tired to do anything else. So, I enjoyed another evening in front of the tube. As of Friday November 18th, I have exactly four months left before I will sell Chez Loser.
Luxury housing prices are beginning to decline. Condos and townhouses are still stable. Overall sales volume will probably decline in the months ahead. I have revised my expectations. I would be content with making $125,000 free and clear after the sale of Chez Loser. Greed is not going to get me anywhere. My goal is survival above freedom.
Freedom is still the primary objective. I have to get away from the myriad idiots around me. People are breeding right and left. They produce idiotic and moronic offspring. When Peak Oil hits, the shit is going to hit the fan. What are those damned idiots going to do? What will clowns like IdiotBoy do? Well, I don't want to be around when those fools go cannabilistic.
My Saturday started off the same as usual. IdiotBoy's mommy was stomping and slammin' everything in sight early in the morning because that's the only day the fat fuck actually goes to work. IdiotBoy slept in until 10am because he came home drunk at 2am. When he woke his fat ass up, he made a few phone calls. Naturally, he stomped as he paced. I left for the bus stop at 11:10am. I went to town basically to save my sanity. I did a little work at the Diploma Mill. Mostly, I composed the journal and listened to House Music on DI.fm. Then, I went to the gym. I returned to Chez Loser, ate dinner, and departed for town. I ended up at Kahala Mall. While I was browsing around Tower Records, I noticed that the "Office Space" DVD was on sale. So, I purchased it. I listened to a few House Music CDs and walked to Barnes & Noble. My eyes were doing something strange while I was in the store. My peripheral vision was, for lack of a better description, pixelating. The sensation continued for 20 minutes. I decided to leave. I figured that I should drive back to Chez Loser while my eyes were still functioning. I was quite distraught. Naturally, I ended up at Foodland and purchased a bottle of Corbett Canyon Merlot. I was hammered in no time. Incidentally, Lori called earlier the evening and left a message. "I thought I'd call and share some disturbing yet enlightening news with you," she said. She then mentioned that she and Kirk saw the motorized chair at Costco for $867 or so. Great news, eh?
On Sunday, I had to spend most of the day listening to the fucking losers upstairs. IdiotBoy's mommy sent the fool out to get breakfast. When the moron returned, he spilled some shit while stomping up the stairs. He started cussing. His mommy came outside and told IdiotBoy to go in the house. "Otherwise 'he' will call the cops, or whoever called them," the fat ass bitch said. She spoke rather loudly in a snide tone of voice, so I knew that the comment was directed at me. Fortunately, I left at 3pm. I drove out to Hawai'i Kai. I went to the gym. Then, I stopped off at Kahala Mall. I ran into Star Market to see if I could find one of those good deli sandwiches. Nada. I then drove to Ala Moana. I was able to find a marginal budget sandwich at Foodland. Then, I went window shopping. When I returned to Chez Loser, I confirmed that the idoits upstairs have been making more noise than usual. They are obviously seeking revenge. At one point, I yelled, "Shut up, you stupid fat ass bitch." There was a loud thud within a few minutes. The bitch apparently turned the piece of shit La-Z-Boy chair on its side and dropped it on the floor. I need to push the fools to so something stupid. Then, I will really unload on them.
On Monday, I met moms at Kahala Mall for lunch at Panda Express. That is the highlight of my week, and that's the only time I feel as though I have purpose. As always, I was sad to say good-bye to moms. Moms invited me to Thanksgiving dinner. Debbie, my realtor, also invited me to dinner. I am not planning to stay in Chez Loser on Thanksgiving Day and listen to the fat fucks upstairs.
There was an interesting opinion piece in the Sunday paper by George Will. He asserted that the "entitlement" mentality has caused the disappearance of common courtesy and etiquette. The premise was based on a book titled, "Talk to the Hand: The Utter Bloody Rudeness of the World Today, or Six Good Reasons to Stay Home and Bolt the Door," by Lynne Truss. I searched out the book at Barnes & Noble and was somewhat disappointed at what $20 will buy. Nonetheless, Truss details a few points that hit home, as it were. There is no such entity as "society" at this point. We are on the verge of anarchy, which is one of the reasons that I want to divest everything and flee.
In addition, the issue of Peak Oil is becoming much more prevalent. It would behoove us all to seriously consider the ramifications of a highly oil-dependent world going dry. Robert Hirsch discussed the depletion curve (read: Hubbert's peak) in theoretical and real terms in an article titled, "Shaping the Peak of World Oil production." Oil depletion along with an already fragmented society will only result in utter chaos, the kind of calamity that can only be equated to "Armageddon." Morons who can barely fend for themselves like the idiots upstairs will become predators. The rest of us will have to "deactivate" those losers. Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaaaa! I look forward to the day! Population control should have been initiated a long time ago. Now it will have be done through forced attrition, so to speak.
I chatted with Ron, the resident manager of the Chez Loser complex on Monday night. He indicated that the idiots upstairs are scheduled to move out at the end of the month. The owner of the unit is allegedly selling the place. The issue of moving has been the focal point of several of the arguments between IdiotBoy and his mommy. IdiotBoy is being manipulated by his mommy. His mommy uses a variety of "guilt trips" on IdiotBoy as operant conditioning tools. His mommmy is trying to persuade him to get a better job, so she can live off of his paychecks. Little wonder why the moron stutters and sounds like Adam Sandler in the movie "Waterboy." After my chat with Ron, I ended up driving to Safeway to purchase a big-ass bottle of Vendage Chardonnay.
Lori sent e-mail to say that she ran into John from Local Motion. He received the card that I sent. Lori wanted to buy a couple of surfboard socks, one as a gift for me. I had to quickly send off e-mail to tell her that I already purchased one. I did mention that I had not purchased a rash guard yet. She is also expecting me to attend Debbie's Thankgiving Day dinner.
On Wednesday, there was a nice potluck get-together at the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill. For the most part, faculty are a boring group. The conversation amongst the group was restricted to academics. Pseudo-professors Ralph and Mike were there, so it wasn't so bad.
I had more episodes of the curious vision problem. I did some minor research on the Net and discovered that I could be suffering from "ophthalmic migraine headache without the headache." That's the actual syndrome name. The primary symptom is "bright zig-zag type lines in central or peripheral vision." The lines have associated flashing light sensations which tend to interfere with vision. Of course, I don't have a medical plan at this point in time. Isn't that how it always works?
Petrol finally dipped below $2.60 per gallon for the lowest octane. The gas price cap policy in Hawai'i being scrutinized nationally. Here, it has created quite furor politically. Petrol prices have been extremely volatile. I firmly believe that we are at or near Peak Oil. Research has indicated that the depletion curve is steep. Overall, the problem is dual-fold. Peak Oil and over-population go hand-in-hand. We are headed toward the collapse of the entire system of capitalism as we know it. Many people believed that I have gone berserk. These are same people who labeled me a "conspiracy nut" back when I was adamantly opposed to the invasion of Iraq. Now, the facts are coming out, the same facts that were presented by the alternative and European media. Billions of dollars have gone to waste, not the mention the countless lives lost. Then, when natural disasters occur (read: Hurricanes Katrina and Rita), there is no money available. None of this was by chance. It's all a clever machination of the "powers-that-be."
I did not intend to update the journal so soon. However, a lot of nonsense had been transpiring. Thanksgiving Day finds me without a health and dental plan. I am an accident away from losing my shirt. Money is slipping through my fingers at an accelerated pace. Yet, there is a lot ot be thankful for. I have been blessed with another year of an essentially uneventful existence. I have had to tolerate a lot of minor bullshit, but the latter is only a small inconveniences. As my days at Chez Loser wind down, I must begin the tedious chores of cleaning and repair. I must sell the furniture and all other trivial crap.
Chez Loser is not really a home to me. The two fat fucks upstairs solidified my opinion even further. I am not sure whether there will ever be a true home for me. I will live alone forever. So, all I really need is a place to sleep. I could easily get by with a motorhome. By the way, there are no motorhomes or motorhome parks on O'ahu. I am gradually merging with Anonder's life-style. I am beginning to see the rationale of his existence. Even with the vast amounts of dough thst he has in the bank, it really isn't enough to go on a spending spree, given how expensive life is these days. People like Anonder and I do not belong in modern society. I know for a fact that I do not fit in. The journal is testimony to the latter. I am not certain what I am going to do to survive as a misfit. Perhaps that is why I continue with these benign updates. Have a great Thanksgiving holiday!
Ol' Lavahead Day 2005 Update
Thanksgiving Day would have been relaxing, but that was too much to ask. The moronic upstairs neighbors were up at 9am. Stomping. Slammin' soirée. IdiotBoy wanted to go to his stooge buddy's place to watch the football game. Naturally, an argument erupted. I should have called the cops. I left at 1pm. I went to the gym in Hawai'i Kai and did my usual workout. Then, I stopped by my bro's place. Moms had invited me over for Thanksgiving dinner. I ate turkey and all the fixings along with moms. My bro was fast asleep. When he woke up, he joined us. I stayed until 6:30pm. Then, I drove to Aina Haina to attend Debbie's party. At first, I did not want to go. Lori and her husband were there along with with quite a few other people. There was a lot of food and wine. I stayed there until 8:45pm. I then drove back to my bro's place to pick up the food to bring home. My bro had gone over to the neighbor's place, so I did stay very long. My bro had also given me a new bathtub spigot that he acquired from one of his work sites.
I had nothing to do on Friday. The morons upstairs were home all day doing the usual bullshit. IdiotBoy's mommy spend a lot of time in her bedroom. IdiotBoy spends most of his time watching the tube while sitting in the piece of shit La-Z-Boy recliner. His mommy constantly calls for him from the bedroom like she is the Queen of Sheba. IdiotBoy jumps out of the piece of shit La-Z-Boy, which makes a huge thud each time. He then runs to his mommy. Each step sounds like a sledehammer hitting the floor. I just wish that I could splinter that piece of shit with an ax.
IdiotBoy tried to persuade his mommy to find another apartment for the both of them. His mommy is apparently cutting the moron loose. "It's a good thing," his mommy told him. "You'll be able to do whatever you want whenever you want to." Some clown from a moving company stopped by, so the idiots appear to really be moving. Good riddance!
I walked to the Ace Hardware store for the big Ace One-Day Sale. I bought a tube of caulk. Later, I took the bus to town and went to the gym. I did nothing on Friday evening. Actually, I watched the tube all night like a true suburban zombie. I did have time to refelct on what I should be thankful for. I am thankful that I was not born a moron like IdiotBoy. Sheesh!
On Saturday, I spent the morning replacing the spigot and caulking the bathtub. Moms called an invited me to dinner. I left for Hawai'i Kai at 2pm. I went to the gym. Then, I had dinner with moms. Portugese bean soup and fried rice. Yum! My bro's family were gone to a B-day bash for their son. I was glad to get out of the house and spend some quality time with moms. The morons upstairs were driving me nuts with their usual inane bullshit. I ended up at Kahala Mall later in the evening. I rented a couple of DVDs to watch from Tower Records.
Sunday was more of the same with IdiotBoy and his mommy. I left for Hawai'i Kai at 3pm. I went to the gym and ended up at Kahala Mall again. When I returned home, I sepnt the evening in front of the tube. It has been raining steadily for days in Kane'ohe. I borrowed some gardening tools from moms, but I was not able to do any work in the lanai area.
I met moms at Kahala Mall for lunch on Monday. We ate at the Panda Express as usual. Caroll called in the morning. We played phone tag until I was finally able to connect with her in the afternoon. She is unemployed again, but she expects to be working again soon. She is still living in the same house and Sacramento, and it sounds as though she still has some flaky roommates. By the way, the fortunes in my Panda Express fortune cookies read, "You will soon find more adventure in life," and "You will spend many years in comfort and material wealth." That's why I keep going back to Panda Express!
Moms and I chatted with an elderly woman at the bus stop. She asked how old moms was. She and moms were the same age. "That's very nice of you to take your mother to lunch," she told me. "Only a very small percentage of people spend time with their parents these days." The conversation further justified my reasons to simplify my life.
Lori sent e-mail. She wanted me to choose where we will have lunch on Wednesday to celebrate Ol' Lavahead Day. She is going to give me a "one-month motorized chair pass" for a gift. It's not the real motorized chair, though. She meant a bus pass. Pseudo-professor Glenn also sent e-mail about the Art Walk on Friday. He wanted to arrange the meeting time, and he also wanted to know if he should invite the older attractive babe again.
The morons upstairs seem to be making no effort to move. IdiotBoy and his mommy were up to their old tricks when I returned home in the evening. The La-Z-Boy chair was the focal point of their evening. I drove to Safeway just to purchase a big-ass bottle of Vendage Chardonnay. On the eve of Ol' Lavahead Day, I sat alone in Chez Loser and sipped on a few glasses of wine. I watched the movie, "The Engagement Ring," on the tube. I found it quite funny and entertaining, even though it was a "chick flick."
Shirley sent e-mail to wish me a "Happy Belated B-Day." She must have forgotten the date because the e-mail was premature. She has been working at Daiei close to 40 hours per week. She plans to start job hunting after the holidays. She also said that there's more news. Perhaps she and Seth are engaged. Shirley wants to meet for lunch sometime.
Well, November 29th is officially Ol' Lavahead Day. There will be no celebration. It's just another day. For me, I notch up in the Viagra Years. Another year has passed so quickly, and I have nothing to say for myself. How many more good years do I have left? What am I going to do for those few pathetic years?
I have discovered that there is a method to the madness of Anonder's life-style as well as that of monks. If what he says is true of his daily regimen, then he follows a strict code that keeps him insulated from the materialistic world. In my own experience, I have learned that I cannot have it both ways. As painful as it may seem, I must cut myself off from the world as best as possible. Even small artifacts wreak havoc in the life of a monk. Materialism and consumerism are like a cancer. Both must be completely removed, or they keep coming back like a bad sitcom. Even the mere act of purchasing one DVD ends up as the amassing of a large collection. Humans have the tendency to collect all kinds of junks, usually under a deceptive guise of the latter being "necessities." As Viktor Frankl described in his book, "Man's Search for Meaning," modern technological societies create an "existential vacuum," which then spawns extreme boredom. In our quest to end boredom, we amass countless useless toys.
Anonder had previously disclosed that he spends a good portion of his time daydreaming. I had impulsively concluded that he was engaged in a very benign activity. Yet, is watching the tube, playing video games, or cruising the Net any better? Each of those options requires costly equipment which needs to be upgraded often. Yet, is the end result any better than sitting in a chair and daydreaming? I think not.
Sometimes my thoughts betray me. I want to continue in the artificial life-style that emulates the "urban professional" dream. Yet, how close am I to that dream? I live in Chez Loser, which is a fairly nice place. However, I do not have any hot water (by choice to save money). I have marginal furniture that I despise. I have a LCD widescreen tube. I drive a new truck, although I take the bus to save money. I have moronic clowns for upstairs neighbors. I now earn less than I spend. I am making no effort to find another job, or to secure any new contracts. I do not want to work the same amount of hours that I did less than a year ago, yet I am in town until 7pm. I do not care to go home to Chez Loser. And, of course, I have no health plan. Yes, I have "issues." I am trying to establish my priorities and develop a plan that will allow me to realize semi-retirement. As I said, I only have a few more "good" years. These are the years that I will still be able to walk, surf decent waves, and not require a motorized chair to get around.
The sinister kahuna is always trying to obfuscate the situation. It tempts me with what I cannot have. It makes me believe that I am better off than I am. It blinds me with a materialistic dream. I am a simple guy. I live in poverty, eating cans of tuna, salmon, and beans every night. I am a senior citizen who will soon be impotent. I am alone and will continue to live alone for the rest of my life. The only real progress that I've made in the last six months is the realization that I am not lonely. I do not need people just as no one needs me. This is the key step to independence and, hence, freedom.
I am learning, though. I am using common resources in place of actually purchasing unnecessary crap. I am slowly divesting myself of useless possessions. I have separated myself from society> I no longer become close with people. I share nothing. I give nothing. I take nothing. I have severed ties with once close friends. I now only have a set of acquaintances. In the end, I hurt no one, and no one hurts me.
I suppose that we are having a quiet celebration of Ol' Lavahead Day ("We" being me, myself, and I). This has been a strange journey, and many of you have been with me for a long time. The future of the journal is unknown. I may return to daily entries as the pace picks up. There will be tough times ahead as I continue my struggle to attain my freedom. I have left out many thought, even though I often wonder if anyone really cares what I think. It doesn't matter. Even I do not go back and read the journal once its written. Why write the journal then? A smart explorer will always leave clues to return home. For me, what is "home"?
To be continued ... Go to E.28
© Copyright 2005. All rights reserved.