LoserNet   Home | Index | Previous | Next    Old Man Stories and Other Strange Tales


 Millennium ... Journal of Life

Thursday April 27, 2000

I turned myself in to the administration this morning. I confessed to calling Wingtip a "pompous ass." I detected some chuckling, no doubt because most of the faculty consider Wingtip a pompous ass. They were too afraid to tell him. Well, I did them all a favor. Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaaa! I uninstalled VirtuaGirl last night. After it opened my browser for the third time and displayed a huge ad, I decided that the fun was over. Worst of all, it resized my browser window using JavaScript. Many Web designers have not figured out how annoying that is.

I am still entertaining the idea of pursuing a doctorate. I don't know why. I'll only put myself in further debt and I won't make much more dough than I am now. There are no educational sanctuaries where I can seek refuge amongst scholars. I will forever be tortured by the multitude of mental midgets like Wingtip. Of course, a doctorate will facilitate my eventual move back to the mainland. I wanted to postpone the implementation of this plan for another four years. That doesn't look feasible now.

I told Malia that the "Hammer" was on sale at Long's Drugs. So, we went to buy a few bottles. I discovered later that I have a bottle Sauvignon Blanc. What a maroon! Anyway, it's chillin' in the freezer as we speak. I've had a long week. I don't think that I'm buying cheap brewskis ever again. It just tastes like [whizz]. I don't know about you, but I'm not predisposed to drinking [whizz]. Sheesh! Malia and I will be drinking our respective bottles of wine and chatting on the phone later this evening.

Friday April 28

Malia and I talked for almost three hours. I was somewhat hammered after polishing off the bottle of wine. This morning, big headache. The day wasn't too exciting. I am beginning to see that Malia is about my only trusted friend. I am sorry that I jumped to prior conclusions about her. This day can only be described as a living hell. The frantic desperation of the students has most of the faculty both angered and frustrated. I've heard too many stories in this past week. Most have been pathetic pleas for deadline extensions. There are only two days left in the semester. How much more time do they want? Actually, it becomes apparent that only a small handful of people are destined to succeed. We could extrapolate this sample over the general populous. Yes, it's true. The majority of people will be followers. Sheep looking for the shepherd.

When I finally returned home, I stuffed my face with potato chips. I really had a hankering for the "Hammer." Why didn't I stop by Long's during my break? My day was a blur mainly because of the lost sheep. In this small microcosm, I am the shepherd. My attempts to encourage thinking and reasoning have been futile. It's time that I establish a dictatorship. What I say goes. Oh brother. I'll have more details about this unexciting week when and if I find the energy.

Saturday April 29

Potato chips, Kim Chee, ice cream, Sauvignon Blanc, detestable resin chair, big headache. That's my day! It's hard to believe that anyone can have this much fun and live to tell about it. I drove to Barnes & Noble this evening. I spent about an hour there. I listened to a few new CDs and looked around. I can't say I missed the place. Remember when I used to go there every weekend with my beloved computer?

I have had a difficult time keeping up with what little e-mail I receive. I must apologize to all. My turnaround time is currently about two months. I know that sounds dumb, but it's true. Malia called this morning while I was perusing some crap about doctoral programs. She wanted to know why I sounded "grumpy." I thought it was plainly obvious. I am glad that I have finally seen the light about my monastic inclination. I do not much care to explain my disposition to anyone.

As a monk, I have to devote some time to spiritual investigation. Of late, I have found some disturbing evidence of doctrinal inconsistencies concerning moms' church. I have not been a fan of organized religion to begin with. How can flawed humans rule other flawed humans, and maintain integrity in the eyes of the Creator? Nonetheless, this has chilling ramifications insofar as prophesy is concerned. Where then can the truth be found? Through what means will salvation occur? Of course, much of the diatribe and confusion could be attributed to the hand of the sinister kahuna. There will be further need for investigation.

Sunday April 30

I was up and on line until the wee hours of the morning for the last two days. I have found further disturbing evidence that is now linked to the debacle of 1975. Mostly all of the other testimony was petty. Disgruntled individuals who were attempting to find any reason to complain. The diversity of human personality could discount much of that garbage. Unfortunately, it is the most overused tactic to discredit and smear the integrity of any group. What I am concerned about is Scriptural chronology and the basis of doctrine or predilections in the context of future events. I am also concerned about the prophetic powers of the so-called "anointed." I would not have been so concerned if not for the testimony of at least one of the (former) "anointed." Scriptural doubt on the part of the individual in question led to a massive witch hunt which left many casualties.

What worries me is that I have seen the transformation of this religious group from afar. I have also seen it within moms. The most disturbing recollection I have was about a year ago. I had told moms that I was reading the Good Book. She responded in a way that shocked me. I was told that I should not read the Good Book without the guidance of the church's immense number of publications. Otherwise, I could be led astray by my own interpretation. I was dumbfounded. Yet, as I read the testimonies of a select few, I realized that the origin of this statement came from the "anointed" in the guise of protection from what they defined as "apostasy." The apologetics of the church seemed to be the defensive line, guarding the "anointed." Before I continue further, I will add that I have never before been this disillusioned in my life. It was as if a huge tidal wave had knocked me over. I have been trying to convince myself that the works of man always get in the way of true spirituality. Remember, the chosen nation of Israel fell away from grace so many times that it almost seemed ludicrous.

There was a hope within me that the prophesy of Armageddon would come true within my lifetime, not because I was certain of salvation. Rather, I wanted to see the return of the Promised Land whether I would be a citizen of it or not. Just to see someone pull the plunger on this big toilet bowl would have been enough for me. Alas, that may never be. As I reflect on the debacle of 1975, I have to wonder how the followers of the church as well as the "anointed" bought into the flawed chronology. Even in the Good Book, the exact date was never mentioned. Only a caution was given - the end would come when it was least expected. How could the "anointed" know the date when even the angels wouldn't? I had previously seen the trend in the church's publications but could never put my finger on it. Now, I see that the redundancy was necessary to fortify the belief that the pivotal date of the main chronology was still accurate. However, some other rules are changing to accommodate the longer delay in the fulfillment of prophesy. Of course, any deviation or doubt is deemed an "apostasy." Only further investigation will yield whether my initial findings are wrong.

I cannot bring this up to moms. She will, no doubt, become concerned that I have been corrupted by the sinister kahuna. Eventually, she would convince herself that I have become a disciple of the sinister kahuna. There is no way to refute the "anointed" as the contemporary medium to the Creator, although I believe that kind of communication has ended with the last of the great prophets and the Apostles. Needless to say, I spent the whole day in contemplation. Why? I am not even a member of the church. I guess the big question is whether there is any real hope for the human existence, or are we just incidentals of a statistical anomaly?

Monday May 1

My investigations continue. The chronology is playing an even more important part in this whole pathetic scenario. In fact, it is the basis of the power of the "anointed" as well. Further, the generation of the "anointed" is coming to an end very soon. The intricate and apparently flawed timetable calls for Armageddon to occur before the passing of that generation. Even more interesting is the question of who will govern the church once that generation passes. There is more to this strange story and I know that it bores most readers. I am fascinated yet appalled because moms has committed her life to the church. I would like to pose this question directly at any representative of the church, but I know how that will be received. And, I stand to put moms in a bad position. Guilty for harboring an apostate.

Once I thought that the church was fulfilling the last prophesy. The chosen nation. As I said before, even Israel fell away because of the machinations of its own people. Frankly, we don't even need the sinister one. We do evil just fine by ourselves. As a monk, I knew some of the prophetic verses. I also knew Scripture. In the last few years I sensed something different about the church. The congregation was mute on theological topics, deferring to the church's myriad publications. For now, only time will tell.

My preoccupation with this matter has preempted everything else. The lump next to my tooth is back. My dentist will be thrilled. The root canal will bring in a lot of dough. I have yet to call the State tax office. If someone did indeed steal my mail, then I am delinquent and will be subject to penalties. I really could use a bottle of the "Hammer."

Tuesday May 2

The business college is turning into a major nightmare. Leila passed along another letter. I couldn't even read it, because the thought was making me sick to my stomach. Malia believes that there is a rumor about her and the ol' lavahead. I think she's right. Malia also related more childish games with other faculty including Joanne. I was disappointed but not surprised. At the community college, one of students gave me a Lau Lau plate lunch. I bought a bottle of the "Hammer" at Long's. It's chillin' as we speak. Finally, one of my long lost students, Cory, left a message last night. I managed to talk with him tonight.

Well, at least Anonder finally updated his journal. I'm looking forward to reading about his trip to Guatemala. I'm not sure of what happened to Hermit. It looks as though his site may disappear. As you can tell, I don't read too many other on-line journals. I used to read Lizbeth's diary but she seems to have finally moved on with her life. The ending of a journal is a big event, especially if one has been committed to it for an extended period of time. Usually, the event is some kind of significant change in the author's life.

For me, the journal has continued on because I still have a lot Web space available. Well, actually, my journal has been my tribute to the mundane lifestyle. The most recent undoing has been chronicled in a divergent journal that is now archived. Once the crisis was over, that journal's purpose was completed as well. The matter of humor is something people often bring up. Like the Loser Living Upstairs. Speaking of which, Anonder has vowed that he needs to stay at home and do more pacing. Sheesh! Humor, though, is inspired when one is on the edge of sanity. The desperate attempts to stave off psychosis is what fuels the best comedic material. I should know. I am nowhere near that point although I can see how easily it could come to that. As always, only time will tell.

Wednesday May 3

Rather than grade papers, I spent time reading Anonder's Journal. The month of March is about the best in the series. His adventures in Guatemala were somewhat hilarious. However, there is more than meets the eye. I have seen a part of Anonder that has never been revealed before. Away from "West Metropolis," he seems to come to grip with his own identity and, perhaps, even answers a few timeless questions. I lived vicariously through his adventure. For a moment, I left my own pathetic existence. In the end, Anonder appears comforted to return home to the same routine in "West Metropolis." Is he, though?

Another misunderstanding with Malia once again brings me to wonder if the two genders can ever be friends. It's the same situation which keeps repeating itself like a bad sitcom. I thought that the issue was settled a long time ago. I suppose that I am the only person in this world who has decided that the single life is pretty good. I have had no desire to find love or romance. I just want to seek peace and tranquility in singularity. I have never before realized how preoccupied everyone is with finding a "significant other." They are not "complete" without another. They are lonely. What a trap! Most people are neither psychologically or economically viable to be in a relationship. All that will result is a dependent, albeit dysfunctional, relationship that will either be sprinkled with violence or end about as abruptly as it began. Confusion will be the denouement because both parties never really knew what they wanted in the first place. Thank goodness for the "Hammer"!

Thursday May 4

I am sitting here right now, waiting to see how long before the symptoms of food poisoning appear. Moms had bought a package of Tofu the other day and left it in the cupboard instead of the refrigerator. Rather than throw it out, moms served it for dinner.

"The Tofu is sour," I said. "Something is wrong."

"It's spoiled," moms replied. "Better throw 'em away."

"What? What are you talking about?"

"I put it in the closet (sic) by mistake."

"How long was it in there?"


"Overnight! Now I'm going to get food poisoning!" I yelled.

"No goin' get food poisoning!"

I erupted into a tirade. And, why shouldn't I? Look at my day. The first thing in the morning, I am accosted by another Quixtar "Independent Business Owner." This organization (like its mother organization) is looking more like a religious cult. They must convert people into discipleship and then indoctrinate them in furthering the message through evangelizing. Their god is money. Nothing else drives them, as there is certainly no real belief in the products. Specific tools are marketed to these fools, who then must purchase them in order to achieve success in their "ministry."

Malia had big problems today at the business college. Joanne went on the warpath after she accused Malia of spreading rumors. Naturally, the administration is now involved. Joanne no longer even acknowledges my existence, which indicates that I am somehow involved. Malia then informed me that several other faculty are involved in this mess. There is soon to be a major falling out. There are even more problems on this sinking ship. Many students have told me that they are transferring to the competing business college, the reason being that the tuition went up significantly. Of course, most of that increase is to pay for the new Microsoft Testing Center.

The only redeeming part of the day was when I received a few of the papers that were due today. I gave the students a choice of topics. One was to write about the Covey book. A small handful chose that option. I managed to talk with those students and was surprised to hear that they were impressed by what they read. In effect, I may still be able to find the hidden talent and harvest that talent thanks in part to Covey.

Malia and I had lunch at Murphy's. I made the mistake of ordering the Fish n' Chips meal. For eight bucks, I had a whole mess of French Fries and four puny Mrs. Paul's fish sticks. When I was living in Convalescent City, I used to go out to Morro Bay and eat Fish n' Chips that had real fish. Even though Malia and I have a few misunderstandings about our friendship, we are still close friends. We discussed the situation concerning Leila. I had seen Leila in the hallway and mentioned to her that the letters were inappropriate in view of the fiasco with another faculty. When I returned home, there was a message on the answering machine. "This is Leila. You won't be seeing me around anymore." And, to top it off, I saw the handmaiden walking a few hundred feet ahead of me as I was heading to the bus stop. Malia keeps bringing up the handmaiden in our discussions. She asks the kinds of predictable questions that babes do. Always probing to see what must be done to become the "perfect" babe. I suppose that Malia and many other babes (as well as guys) do not understand how a relationship can ruin a good friendship, especially if there is no real basis for a relationship. "Being lonely" is not sufficient reason. Perhaps it is time for me to take up pacing as well. That slow, laborious kind of pacing that Loser once did.

Friday May 5

The situation at the business college is going down the toilet. Mike, another colleague, has sided with Joanne. I am now involved in this fiasco. Leila passed yet another letter, which I refused to read. Pseudo-professor Robert and I had lunch at Taco Bell. After some deliberation with some input from him, I have decided to look into a Ph.D. program. I can't be working in that sewer anymore. Sadly, I wanted to be financially solvent before even contemplating more schooling. At least I didn't get food poisoning last night.

This was my last Friday night class. I won't be coming home late and spending Saturdays in a stupor. Of course, that does not preclude long sessions in the detestable resin chair. What else do I have to do?

Saturday May 6

I spent all day hanging out with Mark. First, we drove to Border's near Ala Moana. Later, we stopped off to check on moms. Moms was fast asleep. Just as we were leaving, Malia came by. She and the kids were at Sandy Beach for most of the morning. She gave me a package containing some chips, salsa, and a big bottle of the "Hammer." Then, she left to take the kids to see a movie at the theater in Koko Marina.

Mark and I ended up back at his place. We spent the rest of the day and evening just sitting out on his lanai. We drank a few beers and ate poke and other junks. Mark baked some salmon filets for dinner. Then, we broke out the "Hammer." All in all, it was kind of a ridiculous and useless day. I found it odd that Malia called and left about ten messages while I was gone. Leila also called because she wanted "to clear the air." What is wrong with this 45-year-old? The whole situation has gotten ridiculous. I shared most of my foolish predicaments with Mark. We also discussed the curious situation about the handmaiden. Apparently, the handmaiden had said hello to Mark a few days ago. He deduced who she was since he vaguely recalled that she sat next to Lavinya on the express bus a long time ago. As it turns out, Lavinya used to live in Mark's building. Strange things.

Sunday May 7

Today was a scorcher. It hasn't been this hot in a long time. I lapsed into a coma in the detestable resin chair for most of the day. I also did some yardboy chores. Frankly, I cannot understand why I harbor so much resentment for the detestable resin chair. It only cost $8 and has been a decent chair. There are far more detestable things (and people) in life as of late.

I am really getting tired of the high school games at the business college. Between the faculty and the students, I am at wit's end. Some of these losers are my age. It's nauseating and certainly is no incentive to go back to work. As I discussed with Mark, my goal is to pull myself out of this cesspool as soon as possible. Mark's observation may be correct. He seems to believe that most people are looking for a way out of a bad situation. Therefore, they will latch on to anyone. So, technically, we are looking at psychological and financial leeches. It makes sense. Most of the cultures in Hawai'i are extremely patriarchal. Sons are allowed to live at home without suffering from disgrace. If the home is owned by the parents, the boys will eventually inherit it. A daughter, on the other hand, is encouraged to find a mate. Thus, she will eventually move in with her mate (and his parents) unless, of course, her mate is financially viable to own a home. This will explain the proliferation of multiple occupancy dwellings here in Hawai'i, the architecture of the latter being somewhat curious. These dwellings usually have one or more levels built upon the existing structure. No consideration is given to aesthetics, as these dwellings are clearly eyesores. On the mainland, a clown living at home with moms (like the ol' lavahead), would be considered a big loser. A laughingstock. Babes could care less about such a social wart. In Hawai'i, that is not a problem. It's a potential meal ticket for the local babes.

I find all of that somewhat depressing. Knowing that I may have become a target for extremely desperate babes seeking a meal ticket does little for my self-esteem. All I can do now is to continue on course. My plans are already in place. I just wonder if I can tolerate this nonsense for nine more years. I suppose that, where there's a will, then there's a way.

Monday May 8

I spoke with the Dean this morning at the business college. I pushed for an end to the current dilemma. So, a meeting with Joanne and Mike is imminent. I am going to call their bluff. The Dean made mention that Joanne is adamantly opposed to any kind of meeting. "What does that tell you?" I asked. I also filled in for another instructor who was out because of surgery. All I had to do was proctor his exams. One of the exams was a pathetic 50-question true or false type. The questions were on the brain donor level. Yet, most of the class spent over an hour puzzling over them. The exam also allowed for the use of books, notes, and a computer. Sheesh!

This afternoon on the express bus, Mark happened to ask Anne about how she knew me. Naturally, he was baiting her. "We have a mutual friend," was her reply. I laughed. Whom might that be? Anne wouldn't be referring to the handmaiden, would she? Yep, another day in Paradise. Another coconut rotting in the sand. This evening, moms spent some time chasing a "lizard" (read: gecko, if you are haole) around the house with a broom.

Tuesday May 9

I wasted more of my precious time over the two stupid scenarios in play. I met with the Dean twice. One to discuss the situation with the psycho student. The other to discuss the situation with the psycho faculty member, Joanne. The Dean is forcing a meeting on Friday between Joanne, Mike, myself and the administration. In the meantime, Joanne has been running around in a feeble attempt to make amends for her actions. Malia told me of Joanne's pathetic groveling and crying game. Momi, another student, came by my class to ask why Joanne has been trying to hunt her down. Joanne's big mistake is that she has involved the students in this mess. At one point, I just couldn't take it anymore. I went to Joanne's class and told her, "You and and Mike are screwing around with the wrong guy. You understand?" I'm sure she could see the grimace on the face of stone. Nothing like she's ever seen before. The situation with the psycho student is still in my hands. The Dean read the last letter and was somewhat shaken. Malia also read the letter because there were some references to her. What she read did not sit well with her. The psycho is apparently stalking both of us.

I had two Whoppers (my way, of course!) for lunch. Unfortunately, they almost made me sick. Perhaps it's the situation I described above. Not even a decent Whopper could cure that malady. An Uzi would probably work better. In some respect, Malia is not helping me out. She is constantly bringing up her feelings in some kind of attempt to pressure me into a relationship. I'm sure Malia means well, but she is jeopardizing our friendship. The expectations and disappointments are already there. It's almost as if I am in a relationship. Yet, she can't even see it. The stupid part is that it's obvious that I do not want any "romantic" involvement. If I were to give in, all that would happen is a bad ending because the ol' lavahead won't be able to live up to her expectations. Then, I'd end up with nothing. Not even a friendship. I think babes are just plain stupid sometimes. They try so hard to get what they want even though they know it's being forced. They will use their wily ways to seduce guys because that's the only way to "persuade" them. In the interim, they keep telling themselves, "I know he really likes me. I just have to keep on trying." The result is always disillusionment and disappointment. Yet, deep down inside, the babes know the truth all along.

Wednesday May 10

The Dean has called for a meeting this Friday. So, the end of one fiasco may be nearing. I went along with Malia after class this morning. She has to pick up her daughter from school and take her to the the doctor. The office was out in Waipahu. After the appointment, we at lunch at the Daiei Food Court. I ate a whole mess of Kim Chee. Later, I received an e-mail from Malia. I could sense the usual expectations versus disappointments theme. Perhaps my friendship with Malia maybe drawing to a close. It's kind of sad. Malia doesn't realize that this is the real personality of the ol' lavahead. Constantly asking me to express my real feelings isn't going to get anywhere. What babes mean by "real feelings" is "tell me what I want to hear." This is the basis of victimization. It's easy to see how some guys can get a lot of action. Just tell the babes what they want to hear. After da wild thing, just dump 'em. My original premise of a long time ago holds true. Only a small number of guys "get around" because they are the only ones who don't have any scruples. However, those are the guys whom babes find extremely desirable.

I have decided to find another dentist. After perusing the Web last night, I found a variety of interesting articles for and against root canals. I did notice an interesting point. Root canals are a big money maker. However, I am not using my teeth to make Mercedes payments for my dentist. I only chose this particular dentist because he is moms' dentist. Yet, he has been trying to sell me on a root canal from Day One. Even at several dentists' Web sites, it was made clear that a thorough examination of the tooth would be necessary before prescribing a root canal. As the saying goes ... don't believe the hype.

Thursday May 11

Yesterday, Mark gave me a copy of the Hawai'i Penal Code sections dealing with stalking, which made me laugh. The humor was short-lived as the psycho struck again. She left another note in my class. This one contained the thinly veiled threat, "Do you know the cure for cancer?" in large letters. The rest of note was some garbage concerning "closure." Closure from what? Just mere seconds after delivering this note, the psycho apparently saw Malia in the hallway and cursed at her. Once again, I had to see the Dean. His hands were shaking as he read the note. Malia was equally shaken up. In a previous note, psycho assumed that Malia and I were "involved." Later, I will provide complete transcripts of the psycho's letters.

I was taken aback by all of this and now I have to be concerned with Malia's untimely involvement. We had lunch at Ala Moana because there was no telling where psycho was. After psycho dropped the note off in my class, she disappeared. I told Malia that I would call the Dean and tell him that I decided to go to the police. After I finished my business at the community college, I returned to town and called the Dean. He had no qualms about me contacting the police. In fact, he asked to join me there. He met me at the Nu'uanu police substation. We talked with an officer, and I was advised that I had two options: criminal proceedings or a restraining order. I opted to file an incident report until tomorrow. The Dean and I will try to meet with psycho and settle the issue. If nothing works out, I will go to the Courthouse and obtain the restraining order. Frankly, I don't see anything being settled. Psycho has wanted me to meet privately with her (yuck!), preferably at her home. Closure is the last thing on her mind. I assume that she will be dumb enough to violate the restraining order. I look forward to calling the cops and having her arrested. I'm sure that Malia will not sleep well until then.

As I sit here drinking the "Hammer," I just have to wonder. What is happening? Why is my life so chaotic? The infection above my tooth is swelling up again. My State tax is still in limbo. My IRA account has dwindled down to nothing after the stock market collapsed. Tomorrow, I have to meet with the other psycho, Joanne, and that traitor, Mike. Of course, I will also be confronting the stalker. Well, hey! This is LoserNet!

Friday May 12

I almost cannot describe what a pathetic day this was. I spent about five hours in useless meetings. The meeting with Joanne and Mike was a farce. Basically, both feigned ignorance and downplayed the situation. I had expected Joanne to be in tears but she must have rehearsed for her Oscar-winning performance of ass-kissing. The situation with Leila, the psycho stalker was even more fruitless. The Dean had already been speaking with her prior to my arrival. He called me while I was filing the paperwork for the restraining order over at the Courthouse. Psycho was in tears and never faced either of us. She did not respond to most of the fielded questions. The Dean finally found a female staff member to talk with psycho. That's when we had to go to the meeting with the other psycho, Joanne. Almost three hours elapsed before the Dean and I were briefed about what transpired between the female staff member and psycho.

As it stands, psycho believes that I was involved in a relationship with her. She also claimed that I had "led [her] on" and also told other faculty members that she was my "girlfriend." Subsequently, I cheated on her because she knew that I was fooling around with another woman, namely Malia. Psycho also mentioned that Malia was very jealous of her and made that fact known. At this point in time, psycho cannot understand why I did this to her. Psycho is devastated because of my unfaithfulness. Both the Dean and the female staff member were somewhat satisfied with the outcome. I'm not as easily convinced. I believe that both Malia and I are in imminent danger. The meeting was extremely humiliating for psycho and she will seek revenge. Any fool can see that.

At the university, I ran into pseudo-professor Robert and a few other pseudo-professors in the faculty computer room. I showed him the letters. He read then out loud. Pseudo-professor Lisa said that it was making her sick. I was getting sick. I hope to have the transcripts of those letters up sometime this weekend, provided that I can keep from getting sick. Unfortunately, today was Judge's Day Off. So, I could not get the restraining order. I will have to waste more time and spend $15 for the restraining order. I'm almost certain that, the day the cops deliver the paperwork, will be the day that psycho snaps. Yet, I wouldn't be the least surprised if she snapped before next Monday.

Saturday May 13

I neglected to mention that the check I enclosed with my State tax forms was allegedly cashed yesterday. By whom, I do not know. I spent the rest of last night transcribing the psycho correspondence. Click on the "Psycho" image to read the eerie words of my disturbed buddy.

Malia was supposed to go on a Girls Night Out with Delores, Adamma and Wanda. However, that fell through as most group plans seem to. So, she and I ended up on Kahala Beach to view the ocean and drink the "Hammer." Kahala Beach is a really just a small stretch of sand that follows the perimeter of the Big Money Grip estates in the area. It was fairly windy, unfortunately. Malia wanted to go to Kawela Bay on the North Shore but it was fairly late when she found out that the plans had changed. While imbibing in the second bottle of the "Hammer," we were discovered by a cop. We felt a little foolish. Like school kids gone bad. So, we had to end the "Hammer" session and call it a day. All in all, it was nice to relax in a peaceful environment. This past week has been a nightmare.

Sunday May 14

I am dreading tomorrow. No telling what could happen. As I told Malia yesterday, I am not convinced that psycho will desist. There was no indication that psycho's reality would permit that. Have you read psycho's letters yet? In an e-mail yesterday, Malia voiced similar concerns about her safety. She also wrote:

I can only wish that I had a normal happy life with a husband who was good to the kids and me. A simple happy life. That's all. A lifetime partnership, someone to love ... I guess you can tell I'm missing an important piece of my lifetime dream that hasn't come true and by the looks of it will probably never come true.

And, Malia is always saying to me, "I wish I had met you 20 years ago and married you." She's funny. I like Malia and I get along with her. Yet, I have to wonder. What makes her so certain that the ol' lavahead is that swell of a guy?

Monday May 15

I finally got the restraining order today. I've been to the Courthouse twice. The stupid part is that the clerks neglected to tell me that my address would now appear on the document that would be served to psycho. In order to correct this problem, I would have to re-file my petition. Since the judge already signed the order, the process would be even more complicated. Why have a restraining order against psycho if I am just going to give my address out? Sheesh! I delivered the documents to the police station. Psycho should be reading its contents as we speak.

What is interesting is that I am beginning to recollect a few odd encounters with psycho in the last few months. About a month ago, psycho paid me a visit during my office hours. She came by to see if she could borrow my high school year book. An even more odd incident happened when Malia and I were walking back to the business college from lunch. This was about two months ago. As we walked along King Street, a dumpy woman walked past us and abruptly stepped in front of us as if to deliberately cause us to separate. Then, the dumpy woman walked briskly away. When we got to the elevators, the dumpy woman was just ahead of us as we entered the awaiting car. When she turned, I realized that it was psycho. In retrospect, I believe that Malia and I have been followed surreptitiously by psycho for a period of time.

I finally finished my grading for the community college and the university. I just wish that the nonsense with psycho was over. Mark and I have been corresponding by e-mail about all of this. He mentioned that he saw the handmaiden today. She was walking and talking on her cell phone. "Could you feel her evil presence?" I asked Mark. "Yes," he said, with a look of sheer terror.

Tuesday May 16

Malia had a scary encounter with psycho in the women's rest room at the business college. Psycho apparently had come in and was standing by the mirror for no particular reason. As Malia made her way to the door, psycho was cursing under her breath. I don't think that psycho was in there by coincidence.

Even Malia believes that the administration is no longer concerned about the case. My short meeting with the Dean this morning confirmed that they are satisfied with the outcome of the last so-called meeting. Psycho allegedly has been patronizing and asking for a quick resolution. Neither Malia or I can depend on the administration for further assistance. My gut feeling is that the Dean is beginning to side with psycho and is now questioning my own testimony based upon hearsay about Malia and I.

I will be asking for maximum restrictions to be placed upon psycho when the hearing for the injunction comes up. I consider psycho to be a menace to society. In the meantime, Malia and I can only protect ourselves by being vigilant and calling in the authorities at the sign of any flagrant violations.

This untimely situation has brought Malia and I closer together in friendship. I have grown very fond of her as she has been a real trooper. However, closeness has brought up the unresolved issue of going beyond friendship. Frankly, I never expected to have this kind of dialog ever again in my lifetime. I have come to trust Malia. There had been some doubts before but I think I have dispelled them. Finally, many belated thanks to Jeff (jhunter@v-wave.com) and all the regulars for writing in!

Wednesday May 17

As I walked along Fort Street Mall carrying my Whopper (My way, of course!), I heard someone call out my name. Psycho? No, it was the Dean from the business college. He had just gone to Kozo Sushi to pick up his lunch. He joined me outside on one of the benches. We ate our respective lunches and talked about nothing important. Never once did he bring up the situation with psycho. We just had a pleasant chat. Maybe I have over-reacted. Perhaps this whole affair is behind us now.

I think Malia has come to realize that anything other than a friendship with the ol' lavahead would make absolutely no sense. I'm glad that she came to this realization and I am even happier that we will always remain friends. It also makes no sense for me to jeopardize my monk lifestyle and my plans for the future. I think that life is returning back to its boring, normal state. Thank goodness.

Thursday May 18

Malia and I bought our lunch at Kozo Sushi and ended up at the university. The university is somewhat of a safe haven compared to the business college. Both of us saw psycho this morning in separate instances. Psycho grimaced and looked away as we faced each other while walking down one of the hallways. Malia had a more psychotic experience with psycho. Joanne, the faculty psycho, is also acting up again but I am no longer involved in that pathetic situation.

Once again, I absolutely cannot connect to the university modem pool. If I use the old phone trick, I may connect at a slow speed. I'm inclined to believe that the problem is with my modem. Does this come as a surprise? Almost everything I touch turns to [dung] for some reason. The loser's teeth are still acting up. The infection is still there. That's the strange thing about life. Just when things were turning around for the ol' lavahead, the real crap comes down like an avalanche. There must be a reason. I suppose I was getting cocky. This was a lesson in humility. I find it strange that only the losers must always be humbled.

Friday May 19

As I walked back to the university from the business college, I saw John waiting at the bus stop. John is the faculty member whom psycho wanted to report for sexual harassment. I filled him in on the restraining order and the upcoming hearing. Psycho had told him that she had to go to court next week, so he now understood why. Psycho is apparently failing his class as well. Interesting discussion.

I spent the evening upgrading my Netscape Communicator package. Wheeee! That was probably the most fun I've had in a long time, thanks to my psychotic buddies. I also removed the VirusScan Activator plug-in from my browser. Took me forever to find it. This, in itself, is a pathetic story. It's all due to that stupid "Love Bug" script. In order to access the VirusScan site, I was duped into believing that I had to install the plug-in and also the Windows Scripting Host (WSH). Naturally, I did. The plug-in is a conduit to the lousy IE browser, which requires stand-alone scripting. I'm beginning to suspect that the parent company, McAfee, is the originator of that so-called virus. Since I now have WSH, I could accidentally run a malicious script. Fortunately, I found a utility at the Windows Magazine site which traps all scripts before execution. This utility is far better than any virus scanner. Well, it's time to start a new chapter. I hope that I have far more interesting tales to tell.

To be continued ... Go to M.08

© Copyright 2000. All rights reserved.