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The trip on the plane was a private hell for me. I dreaded my return to Hawai'i. The same old thoughts went through my mind again. However, I was able to better discern that all of it was a muddled mess because I can no longer distinguish what segment of my life is in chaos. The most obvious segment, of course, is my defunct relationship. Slowly, I am beginning to see that I have attributed the rest of my failures to this one annoying aspect of my life. Why? It's an easy answer. However, it's not an excuse. I still accept the blame for all of my shortcomings whether it be that relationship or my inability to find employment or my lack of discipline to complete any of my book projects.

I continued to read Lila by Pirsig on the plane. The book is beginning to annoy me because it does not provide me with answers. Rather, it raises more questions. Questions for the soul. My soul is fatigued and it cannot take any more questions. Yet, I have one burning question that never seems to get answered ... what am I going to do with my life? I have put this question off for a long time. My relationship with Lori was yet another device to postpone the answering of that question. I suppose that even Lori could sense that I was on hiatus from life. This trip has made me review that question. What exactly am I accomplishing in Hawai'i at this point in time? My only goal was to spend time with my parents. Everything else was secondary. Lori transplanted herself here so I could realize that goal. Yet, I have been talking about moving back to Cali ever since I arrived here. Cali is where I belong. I already know this. I would move back tomorrow if I knew I could exist comfortably. If I wait for the time that I know I can live comfortably, I may never move to Cali at all. What is comfortable? I have become a slave of my own thinking and my own perceptions. I have set up arbitrary constraints that are hindering my progress in life.

Where does Lori fit into all of this? I don't know. I think that I have experienced an emotional avalanche. Everything has come tumbling down and Lori was the most visible sign of the destruction. It really doesn't matter whether her past was exactly as Chris described or whether she was living a ruse with me merely for some kind of personal gain. I have not come away with anything less as a result. I was devastated by the breakup and I felt trapped in loneliness. However, nothing else about me has changed. The greatest fear I had was being left behind. It's funny because Lori had expressed that to me as her greatest fear just a few months ago. Now, it is she who has left me behind. Perhaps she felt that it was better to do unto me before I did that to her. Nonetheless, I am finding that Lori was only a small part of the big picture. I have many other issues to deal with and for some reason I have put them all on the backburner. I have used Lori as an excuse to do this.

I was like a zombie when I disembarked from the plane. I walked to the bus stop and took the bus home. Moms was not home. I unpacked haphazardly and got ready to back to town so I could go to the gym. This is no longer the life that I want to lead. I have some real decisions to make very soon. I cannot be "kicking the can" forever. Financial independence seems to be a priority with me. I cannot seem to function properly unless I can truly believe that I can pay off my loans. Then, too, I want my own independence. I cannot be living with moms forever. It's not an ideal situation. Let's look at an example. If by some chance I were to meet a babe and I wanted her to spend the night with me, where would we go? A hotel? Frankly, do you know any babe who would take a guy who lives with his mother seriously?

I'm really not sure that I can return back to the monk life. I made a grave mistake when I went off-track three years ago. I don't think that I can establish that kind of focus again. Of course, I may have no choice. It's not like I have babes hitting on me right and left. As I was nodding out on the bus ride back to town, I daydreamed about one of the times Lori gave me head. I could see her taking my full length in her mouth and down her throat. That was so awesome. Then, some babe got on the bus and sat diagonal from me. I tried to imagine her doing that. I was ready to lose it. That's why it's going to be long battle to get back into the monk thing.

Tuesday March 30

I slept really well when I was on the mainland this vacation. I averaged about six hours per night. To me, that's sleeping well. Last night I had trouble sleeping again just as I have ever since the breakup. I had an anxiety attack at about 2:30 this morning. I'm almost convinced that my health will be in jeopardy if I stay here in Hawai'i any longer. I am still bothered by the lack of answers. Duke (duke@dcculligan.com) commented that the private journal was a convoluted mess of contradictions past March 9th. Actually, it's easy to see why. I have been transcribing my actual thoughts and feelings on a daily basis. I had been vascillating on whether I believed that the real Lori was the same person I met three years ago. There is a reasonable amount of doubt to cause substantial confusion. I'm not sure what to believe any more.

I ran into Jamie (one my students at the business college) while I was walking around at noon. She was waiting for a friend. Her friend never showed up, so I joined her for lunch. Actually, I just watched her eat since Paul (the student who met up with us in Convalescent City) had treated me to lunch earlier. Jamie and I talked for about an hour. Then, I gave her a short tour of the university. We had an interesting discussion about relationships as well as relating our own personal experiences. I found it amusing as we had some interesting viewpoints to share. I don't want to lead into conjecture, but I had a funny feeling about where things were heading. When we were walking around, she was very close to me and almost rubbing against me most of the time. I could be reading between the lines. You know, as a monk, I need to very careful about these sorts of things.

I have been noticing a lot of the babes lately. As a monk, I can only wonder what I am up to. I have seen some really attractive "local" babes. Man, why have I not noticed them before? I saw a babe in the gym last night that almost made me get down on my hands and knees to pray. Pray for forgiveness as debaucherous thoughts were going through my mind. She was in front of me as I was doing some innocuous chest press nonsense. She had a low cut top on. She laid down on a weight bench to do some dumbell fly curls. I thought I was going to keel over. Then, she went to the step class. Something tells me that I'm going to have to start taking aerobics classes again. You know, if Lori ever saw me with a babe like that, she would probably try to kill me. Never mind that she is dating a rich, balding pilot. That's a control issue, I suppose.

I know that it's stupid but I'm still having trouble accepting what has happened. I can't believe that Lori could just walk away so easily from everything. That bitch! You know, after reading the private journal over again, I now believe that Lori had already made up her mind to break off our relationship as early as March of last year. The key was Barbara's e-mail (see V.1) where she reveals a curious conversation with Lori at the dinner party in April. I really can't deal with that scandalous ho' anymore. If she thinks that she can do better than me, that's fine. Heck, I'm a monk.

Wednesday March 31

Where do we go from here? Frankly, I haven't got the foggiest idea. I'm going to put the public journal on hiatus again for obvious reasons although I believe that a certain party no longer reads it. I have a feeling that I'm going to be confused for a long time. I doubt that I will ever get the answers that I seek. For one thing, Lori will never acknowledge my existence ever again. It is a strange situation. Many people have suggested that I look into a new relationship. I really don't know why I should. I am obviously not a relationship-oriented person. What do I seek in a relationship? I don't know. Maybe it just keeps me from being alone and lonely. Maybe it's nice to have good sex every now and then. Aside from that, I'm really not great company and I must not be very affectionate. I constantly resist the wily ways of the female to make me conform. I am, in some respects, a typical male.

I don't particularly care for the courtship game. Lord knows, I've read enough about it. Remember the Monk's Guide to Dating? I was very serious when I said I perfected the eunuch-like behavior and the Data-like personality. Just ask Lori, she can tell you. However, it's always the biology that is the hardest part to fight. Nonetheless, I don't have the emotional makeup to be in a relationship. Even Lori told me, "There's someone for everyone." I don't believe that to be true. Guys like The Master and I are just not compatible with babes. There are absolutely no babes who want to put up with a robot. One could argue that a robotic babe may be compatible with either of us. That's ludicrous. There are no robotic babes, and why would a robotic babe want a robotic guy? That makes no sense. Robotic means asexual. Eunuch-like. Two robotic people in a romantic relationship is a paradox.

As I sat outside and relaxed this afternoon in Bishop Square, I watched all the people walking by. I am not sure but I believe I saw Lori. She was wearing a burgundy outfit. Perhaps it was the frumpy outfit, but Lori looked as though she has gotten pretty thick. She did not look particularly attractive. She glanced over but I still had doubts whether it was her or not. In the end, I'm sure it was. Well, I guess the "happiness" that Lori has experienced recently (at least according to Alexis and Lavinya) has exacted a price. Well, what can I say? I'm sure that she saw me but she did not come over to talk. It's her loss. I'm not going to beg for her friendship. What I really want to know is why she hates me so much. I cannot believe that anyone can hate another person like that, but what do I know?

Questions for Review:

• In the aftermath of this whole fiasco, should all of the journals come to an end?
• Do the Cali trips seem worthwhile from the viewpoint of saving my sanity?
• You've seen pictures of the ol' lavahead. Do you think that any babe would even be the least bit attracted to that fool?
• Lori has completely ceased communications with me since February 22nd. Do you think that this whole ordeal (including control issues) has finally come to an end?
• Should the ol' lavahead move back to the mainland?

Thursday April Fool's Day

Well, here it is ... I found a good banner for first few chapters of the private journal. Do you see why I'm going to remain a monk? By the way, did you know that today is my day? Yep, April Fool's Day. I have always celebrated this day in the public journal. Not so this year. Alas, poor Tralfaz. I knew him well.

If I wasn't either angry or sad, I would just laugh my fool head off. This whole situation is like a bad April Fool's joke. And, guess who the big fool is? A 39-year-old babe is giving me the "silent treatment" over some choreographed incident, when not less than a few months ago we were swappin' spit and making love. No one except the perpetrator knows what's what. It's immature and childish. It's so damned stupid that I can't believe it myself. I am beginning to believe that the whole thing was a hoax. It was designed so that Lori could truly disassociate from me. My guess is that she made a commitment to either Balding Bill or Harry and she did not want to tell me about it. It's the guilt thing again. We've seen it before. I know that it's none of my business but I think that she should have told me. Why hide it? It certainly would have saved me a lot of pain and sorrow. I assume the reason (and it's a bunch of crap) is that she did not want to hurt my feelings. Is yelling at me in the gym a means of sparing my feelings? Lori is really a bitch. I'm really glad that she spared me the misery of having to divorce her had we gotten married.

I can thank Lori's good buddy Alexis for all of this. Since Lori mentioned before that she couldn't stop dating Balding Bill because "[her] friends would think [she's] a flake." The only friend she has that would set her up with anyone is Alexis. It's really not Alexis' fault though. Lori wants to be like Alexis. She is also easily tempted by material wealth as was verified by Chris. She wants to be in the upper class. Prior to moving to Hawai'i, Lori probably thought that I was downplaying my family situation. When she came here and saw that we were as poor as I said we were, she probably realized that she had to jettison me immediately and find someone else. If I extrapolate over this thesis, then the real situation is that Lori can no longer associate with me because I am from a lower class of people. Since Alexis and her friends are all mainlanders, I'm sure that there was some pressure (personal and peer) to remove the interracial element, namely me. I would have been an embarrassment to her in her new social circle. After all, why would anyone of the upper class want to associate with the Pidgin-speaking cretins that make up the underclass of Hawai'i? I'm sure that it became painfully obvious to Lori that interracial relationships are prevalent only in economically depressed regions. Moreover, it is more acceptable for the female to be the ethnic minority rather than the male. Lori had mentioned in Oregon that people looked at us differently because we were an interracial couple. At times, I thought that she felt uncomfortable being with me especially around her friends. It all makes sense. I am the first "minority" that Lori has been with. It was probably a novelty for her. However, when one becomes upwardly mobile, the novelty wears off. As Lori has always said, "Presentation is very important." I wish none of this was true, but the facts are beginning to speak for themselves. It's yet another sad aspect of this whole sordid affair. "That fucking bitch! She can kiss my ass!" I yelled. Then, I laughed. Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaaa!

Friday, Good Friday

How good is this Friday? I have no idea. All I know is that I ended up at a seedy bar downtown last night with Bruce, one of my students. The Harbor Lights Lounge is something out of a derelict's wet dream. Filthy and pathetic, it served as the perfect backdrop to discuss insanity and obsession. Ironically, in the history of humanity, that was the night of the Lord's evening meal. A life sacrificed for the greater good. In my case, the only sacrifice I made was a few more brain cells.

On a lighter note, Annie answered the question, "You've seen pictures of the ol' lavahead. Do you think that any babe would even be the least bit attracted to that fool?" with:

Yes, of course. The ol' lavahead is a Hot Papa. He knows it. For some reason he can not accept it. The ol' lavahead is a good person, and a good relationship prospect. He needs an intelligent woman, though, and one who can be creative, especially when it comes to problem solving. He needs someone who is patient. He may need someone who is not all tangled in the ego, because the ol' lavahead needs to break free of the ego, too. The ego sees things all wrong, and prevents the ol' lavahead from accepting the wonderful gifts of life, and love, and awareness, and humility, and grace. The ol' lavahead will do just fine, though. The Scientist has much faith in him. The Scientist believes in the ol' lavahead at all times, even when the going gets rough. The Scientist prays for good things for the ol' lavahead.

I neglected to mention some other strange observations before. Lori had been talking about doing the Great Aloha Run for weeks. Even though she didn't train for it, she still was set on doing it. When the big day rolled around, she just didn't go even though she had paid to enter the race. She has been slowly moving herself away from anything associated with her previous life with me. She doesn't get off at the bus stop by the park anymore. She never goes to feed the kitty in the park. She may have stopped going to the gym as well. Perhaps Barbara was correct in stating that Lori would leave everything behind in search of a new life (see V.2).

I think that it's safe to assume that Lori is completely out of the picture. Although Paul warned me (see V.3), I doubt that Lori will attempt to exert any control over me from this point forward. She will soon disappear into a whole new life. Yet, the same questions will remain unanswered. It is strange to believe that someone could step in and disrupt another person's life and then just move on. Last night, Bruce suggested that I take two years off and get my head straight. I wish I could. Babes have an adverse affect on guys. Yet, they think that all guys are jerks and deserve whatever is coming to them. The majority of guys are like me. We may not all be monks, but we are not the complete jerks that babes would like to believe we are. I bet that most babes would find it incredulous that it takes a very long time for guys to get over failed relationships. Babes seem to believe that guys just want to air out the Vienna Sausage and move on. Guys are literally non-commital pricks, they'll say. Yeah, right. In all honesty, most babes are more like the stereotypical guys they despise. They will use guys and discard them like soiled tissues, just as Lori did to me.

You know, if it wasn't for the fact that I am actually living this life, the whole situation would seem to be rather comical. I mean, let's face it. What idiot would start up a relationship with a strange babe who read his idiotic Web page and subsequently drove 1,000 miles to meet him? It is even more ludicrous to believe that this same idiot (myself) had wild sex with someone whose past he knew nothing about. [Caroll has suggested that I get tested for STDs very soon.] Then, the idiot moved to Oregon to be with the strange babe and invited her to move to Hawai'i with him. Normal people do not do stupid things like this. Only people who appear on the Jerry Springer Show do stupid things like this. Perhaps the unanswered questions have nothing to do with Lori. Maybe these questions have to do with my lack of better judgment.

Saturday April 3

Once I sort through all of this nonsense, I'll probably come to the realization that I don't need a babe. I came to that concluson many years ago and I wrote about it profusely. Perhaps Lori perceived that as a personal challenge. She obviously destroyed years of work in a matter of three days. What conviction! What willpower! Yet, why didn't I go for Clare? And, what about Janet? Remember Monday Night in Santa Monica? Romero, Janet, Kathy and I went out on the town after the Nationals swim meet down at USC. We were completely hammered after happy hour. I remember swappin' spit passionately with Janet in the middle of the dance floor in some club in Santa Monica. We had stopped dancing and were locked in an embrace, oblivious to the crowd around us. We were using our tongues in ways I never imagined possible. The disco lights were swirling and flashing colors all about us. It was like a movie. When we finally went back to the house we were staying at, Kathy and Romero passed out. Janet and I were still swappin' spit. Things got hot and heavy. Somehow, I backed out because I felt guilty. I thought I was wrongly seducing Janet. As you may recall, Kathy had told me later at the beach that Janet wanted to "jump my bones." I realized then that it wasn't I who was engaged in the seduction. I was too drunk to know that at the time. Janet was gorgeous and, when I look back, I recalled that she carried herself almost exactly like Lori (of the past, not the foul-mouthed bitch we know now). She oozed a kind of sexuality and presence that could any render guy into a quivering blob of jelly. If I wasn't a monk, I would be kicking myself in the ass right now because, if Janet made love liked she kissed, then ho boy! Romero and Kathy would have probably been awakened by moans of ecstasy only to see Janet and I locked in an erotic coupling by the fireplace. Just thinking about it is making me lose my mind.

Why am I writing about useless crap like this? I don't know. Perhaps it lets me better understand who I am insofar as babes are concerned. The whole matter of babes has been a philosophical question that begs an answer. In the course of my life, I have noticed that the "situation" (as The Master and I call it) is the main focus for all of us. We can fool ourselves into believing that our careers or other activities come first, but I have noticed otherwise. Strange, too, is the observable pattern that people continue to look for new relationships no matter how bad the previous ones have been. Then again, I'm not exactly sure why I would want to share my life with someone else. I could probably just lock myself in a room and watch hurdy-gurdies all day long just like the countless other babeless nerds out there. The real key to happiness for me is to transcend this relationship and babe crap. I know that I don't need it. I don't know why I want it. Therefore, it is not important.

Security seems to be the underlying theme for our motivation to find someone to be in a relationship with, whether it be financial, social, for companionship or otherwise. Loneliness is a killer. I've come to know loneliness well. Even though I live with moms, I am very lonely. Moms is very entrenched in the church. Unless I decide to join the church actively, moms cannot devote much time to me. Dedication and baptism are the keys to entry but it is not taken lightly in this church. Once false move, and the perpetrator is ostracized and disassociated permanently unless true remorse is displayed. This kind of fundamentalism does not allow for casual relatonships with "outsiders." Either you're in or you're out.

In the end, I just need to come to grips with own situation and determine the course of direction for my life. If I can remain humble and learn from my mistakes, then I have achieved some level of success in life. If I am always grateful for what I have and not become insatiable in desire, I can find the time to develop a true sense of self. If I can understand that I only control myself, then I can prevent insanity. If I can remove my fleshly desires, then I can finally attain inner peace. There is always a sense that we can never experience all that life has to offer. Our mortality brings forth the desperation to seek out as many of these experiences as possible. We store those experiences in our organic neural network. Yet, what is it all worth in the end? Do we pay more homage to the Creator this way? Have we attained happiness? Are we any less lonely?

As I was driving back in my six-four (actually a red Jeep Wrangler) from taking the recycling in, I happened to see Lori walking to Koko Marina. When she spotted me, she looked up and around at the nearby trees. The classic "I see you over there so I look away" scenario. It was almost too pathetic. I started laughing because it was such an obvious Pavlovian response. If I am trying to ignore someone, I make sure that I don't do anything out of the ordinary when I see the person. If I act nervous or look around suspiciously at dumb things, it becomes obvious to the other person that I am trying to ignore him or her. For having it going on (i.e., dating a rich, balding pilot), I would assume that this kind of immature behavior would be below her. Mind you, I was not planning on stopping or asking her if she wanted a ride. She is beginning to flatter herself in thinking that I would even care to grovel for her attention. Later in the evening on the way to Kahala Mall, I saw Lori walking back from Koko Marina with groceries. She had a bunch of kids with her so I assume Steph was there. Is this life of mine just some kind of cruel joke being played out or what?

Sunday April 4

As the latest drama of my life draws to a close, I find that I am not any more at ease. The same questions are still tugging at my psyche. I have cautiously reinstated the public journal. The entries will still remain sporadic and the details sparse. In commenting on whether the whole ordeal is over, Annie said:

Loredana will most likely read the journal for as many as two or three years. Healing is a long, drawn-out process. A scab forms quickly and soon drops off. A scar remains, and takes years to lighten. Does the scar ever disappear? Does it make the breach in integrity stronger, or just different? They say when a bone breaks, it is stronger at the point of healing. So can we say if the whole thing is ever over?

I have gotten comfortable with the private journal. It is the real journal at this point in time. I have completely sacrificed the public journal and may have lost most of the readership in the interim with the boring and obscure nonsense that has filled its pages. In that sense, Lori has won again. She has indirectly destroyed the public journal. Perhaps, in due time and with proper editing, the private journal will surface publicly. I have bared my soul in this journal and I have also made myself vulnerable. I'm not normally a self-disclosing kind-of-a-guy. But, in this case, I found comfort in self-disclosure. It's as though a tremendous weight has been removed from my shoulders.

I saw Lori several times today as I was driving around in my six-four. As to be expected, she acted like she didn't see me. I really am disappointed that she has to do this. I feel like a common criminal when I have done absolutely nothing. Talking to Chris was apparently an act of treason. I sure hope that Balding Bill never accidentally talks to him. Now I can only surmise that the story Chris told me is too close to the truth. Lori knows that I am on to her, so she can no longer deal with me at any level. It is too bad that she will do nothing to refute what Chris said. I assume that she knows that I now have the truth.

Monday April 5

The strange disappearance of the kitty in the park leads me to suspect some foul play. The disappearance of the kitty has other implications. It does suggest the final end of an era. I felt kind of sad because I enjoyed walking to the park at night and feeding the kitty. I often wished that I could have adopted it as a pet, but that was not meant to be. Moms would never have gone for that. Now, in the end, I have regrets. In my last ever effort to communicate with Lori, I had tried to apply her own logic to appeal to her senses. I had stated that I could be run over by a bus the next day, and it would be regretful that we could not have parted as friends. That appeal was unsuccessful. However, I now can understand the regret with the untimely fate of the kitty. I doubt that Lori can even conceptualize her own rhetoric.

A while back, Neal (niall@allover.com) had mentioned that he observed a pattern in that Lori tries to compete on an intellectual and functional level with the men in her life (see V.3). He hypothesized that Lori took on the Portland Mayor's Ball as a way to compete with Chris on his level. He's probably right, more I think about it. I believe that Lori was still married to Chris at that time which makes the story even more plausible. As I look back, I remember when I first arrived in Oregon. Lori was involved with the petition drive for her friend Randal. And, she was starting up the Portland chapter of Webgrrls. A little background is in order. Randal is the co-author of several Perl (cgi scripting language) books. Somehow he got involved with the originator of Perl, Larry Wall. It has made him a ton of dough and increased his consulting business significantly. Randal had hired Lori to be his personal manager for a while, too. The details of their romantic involvement are sketchy. Lori has always said that their friendship was volatile at best. I know that she had mentioned to me about the one time they slept together and had sex. This was while she and I were still using Unix-Talk to communicate and it was months before our initial meeting. That led me to conclude that she had a short fling with him. It turns out that their relationship was much longer than that, but it was strained. According to Lori, the problems seemed to rest in Randal's camp. Now I'm not so sure. Lori's whole involvement with computers came about as a result of her friendship with Randal. They had met at a roller skating rink. Later, they became comedy club and ski buddies. Lori became a part of Randal's social network. In essence, Randal's friends became her friends. Randal had worked for Intel in Oregon as an independent contractor. Somehow, he was suspected of corporate espionage and ended up being arrested. Intel and the State decided to go for broke on that one. However, Randal got off with a lighter sentence. I'm sure you can now see why there was so much passion in Lori's response to my discussion about Intel on the way to Cannon Beach. That was the first time I got to see the irrational side of Lori.

Lori became very involved in the petition drive to have all charges against Randal dropped. In fact, she drafted the first document to appear on the Web petition. She frequently participated in the special newsgroup designated for that purpose. However, she was often perturbed that no one took her seriously. When she formed the Webgrrls chapter which consisted of a handful of members, she had the same problem when communicating with other Webgrrls chapters. No one took her seriously. She spent hours in e-mail trying to fight the system of techno-nerd babes but she only ended up in an emotional tizzy. I'm also sure that Randal was the reason that she became interested in the Net. He also paid for her Net access. She was using his Apple Powerbook for as long as I have known. She secretly bought it from him last year when she thought that I wasn't going to give her my old computer. Steph once said, "I wish that my mom never met Randal. She would never have gotten the computer, and she would never have met you." Ironically, that is how it all happened. Of course, Lori's developing computer nerd skills would come in handy upon meeting the computer nerd monk. Lori seemed to take up writing as a result of my dabbling in it. She was very excited when I invited her to write with me. However, she was not committed to writing. She produced verbage haphazardly and with little prior thought. I believe that she possesses the skills to write well. However, she lacks the discipline or confidence to pursue it. Of course, I suffer from the same problem.

So, if she is competing now, what is her game? I assume that she is now into the downtown "business executive" fast track. She competes for salary and for exposure in the downtown fashion show. She wants to hobnob with the rich in the fast lane. Heck, she already possesses the snobbishness and cockiness to play that game. Success can be won in more ways than one. Lori wants to be a star. She's the star of her own show and nobody is going to steal her thunder. I thought that after her bout with breast cancer, she would have come to appreciate the real essence of life. Rather, it only proved to her that she can wait for no one. She must use any available vehicle to rise to the top, whatever she thinks that is. She must experience it all right now. After the surgery, she told me, "I have learned to value my time. Money cannot buy time." After a few months and a bout with unemployment, that all changed. She complained that I have not learned to be grateful for what I have. Who seems to have learned that lesson better?

Lori's bout with breast cancer should have been an omen to her. Most people develop a unique sense of mortality and become grateful for all they have. Lori, on the other hand, became impatient. She felt that she was missing something in her life and I sure as hell couldn't give it to her. That self-imposed mandate gave her carte blanche to do whatever she pleased. I was the only person to help Lori after her surgery. I brought her home. I helped to feed her and get her around. I taped on the plastic strips over her stitches so she could take a shower. Lori became extremely paranoid after that time. There was a large plastic bandage over her most of her right breast. She had to keep it dry for two weeks. The actual incision was a few inches above the breast. After a day or so, the bandage itself shriveled a little. It made her breast look smaller and deformed. Lori went off on a tirade because she thought that she was permanently deformed. I tried to assure her that it was only temporary. My words meant nothing. She verbally attacked me for being insensitive. One would think that she would have gained a greater sense of humility after that experience. Instead, she became more testy and arrogant. That was the beginning of the end as I knew it then.

Now, back to where we were. Why would Lori go through all the trouble to gain knowledge and compete with her men on his level? It seems like a control issue again. She tries to gain enough knowledge to attempt to wrestle control from him. Or, she tries to outdo him and humiliate him. In the last year, I've been worried about securing good employment that pays well. I have not been successful as evidenced by my chronic unemployment. Lori showed me a thing or two by finding a job that pays very well even after being fired and being unemployed. Now that I've been outdone and humiliated, the game is over. It's time to move on to a greater challenge. The fact that she outdid me proved that I was not a man in her eyes. I was a sniveling little coward. A boy in the army. The thorn in her side is the fact that she still appears in LoserNet. She wants to be removed from it because it is now just an embarrassment to her. What if someone from the upper class were to see her in there? After all, I'm just a wannabe university professor. She's dating real men who make real money. They are winners. They are in a powerful social circle. She's in the big leagues now. She can't turn back or even acknowledge the small-timers like me. Just like Losernet, I am an embarrassment to her.

"Are you writing a novel or something," a colleague asked as he noticed me typing away on the computer next to him.

"No, but that's not a bad idea," I replied.

Tuesday April 6

I've saved the bombshell stuff for last. My "time of reckoning" covered a period from mid-July to the end of August. I never mentioned it before, but I had printed out my journal entries on a daily basis and showed them to Lori in an attempt to make her understand what I was going through. That's right. I printed every last word as it was written. She made no comments about the journal except that she didn't want her salary listed. I removed it the very day she asked me. I continued to do this until almost the end of August. In her scathing e-mail to me titled "Coming Clean," she asserted that she had been secretly reading the journal (see V.2). Note her surprise about her salary being posted and how she "almost copped to reading the journal." She apparently forgot that I showed her the journal entries on the same days they were written. I should mention that Lori has an excellent memory.

Since we are on the subject of salaries, we might as well go into full conjecture. I will say that I'm more inclined to believe that it not conjecture at this point in time. According to her résumé, Lori has not worked as a loan underwriter or loan processor since before 1986, the year she met Chris. I am not sure whether she was a full underwriter or not. It was not until a few years ago that Lori went back into the mortgage banking industry as a loan processor and later as a loan broker. I met her when she was doing the latter on a part time basis. She barely made enough dough to survive. She always told me how much she hated that industry because it was driven by greed and corruption.

Last year, Lori got a job with a mortgage firm and worked as a receptionist for $9 per hour. After the underwriter quit, Lori presented herself as a possible candidate for the position. The President of the company, Mike, flew in from the mainland and interviewed her. After what Lori called an "intense interview," she asked for $60,000 per year. Mike countered with $45,000 of which she accepted. How did she manage to get that kind of salary with basically little experience and no college degree? I'll tell you how. I believe that she exchanged sexual favors for the job. That's why she was very upset when she was fired and rehired at the lower salary. She was later laid off. She kept telling me that she had excellent legal recourse but she was not going to make trouble. If I had to guess, I'd say that the sexual favors would have to come out in the proceedings and everything would turn messy. Let me also mention that Lori gave me the best head after she got that underwriter job. Coincidence?

Lori did a short stint as an independent loan processor. She worked for a couple who operated a home business. The husband was a pilot and was away often. His wife was pregnant and ran the business pretty much by herself. Lori told me on several occassions that she dressed very conservatively when she went to work. She felt that, since the wife was pregnant and not very attractive because of that, she didn't want to present a temptation to the husband. I found that to be an odd concern. Of course, I'm sure that Lori realized that sexual favors in that situation would be too dangerous. She mysteriously quit the job one day, claiming that they were demanding too much of her.

After being unemployed for three months, Lori got a lead from a guy who owns a bar downtown (the bar she hung out at during her unemployment). She applied for the job and that's where she's working at now. She's making $48,000 annually which is miraculous for someone with her record. She is probably the highest paid underwriter in Hawai'i right now. Oddly, the guy who hired her flew in from the mainland to conduct the interview. He was fired two days later. Lori was sweating bullets at the time and I didn't understand why. Just because the clown got fired should not affect her position. That is, of course, unless sexual favors were exchanged. Lori said that the interview was "intense" and lasted two hours behind closed doors. What did she mean by that?

Chris is a bitter man but I don't think he was lying to me. He probably never found out for sure if Lori was actually exchanging sex for favors but he had his suspicions. "She's getting old. Her tits are sagging, her ass is flabby, and her pussy is loose," he said. "She's not going to be able to get away with that shit much longer." Lori claims that she was making a lot of money when she was a production manager on the road. Over $50,000 per year. Not so, said Chris. He said that she was only an assistant (see V.1). I also recalled that Lori told me that Chris had left her high and dry. I asked her how she survived. She said that she had "some reserves." Of course, Chris also paid her alimony at the time. He also alleged that Lori absolutely refused to work for six years. That sounds about right. She didn't have anything on her résumé after the 1990 Portland Mayor's Ball until some time in 1996 when she worked for some mortgage firm in Lake Oswego. Lori claimed that she didn't work because she wanted to raise her daughter properly and not have Steph in daycare.

I'm at a point where I'm not going to apologize for any conjecture. I believe that everyone who has contributed to this forum has helped me to understand and reconstruct what has happened. It may not be the real truth. Only Lori knows that. However, the pieces fit very nicely. I think we have stumbled across the "dark secret" (as Barbara referred to it) by chance. I would not have been willing to accept any of this a few weeks ago. However, Lori's actions seem to indicate the obvious. She said that if I wanted to know something, I could just ask. That was before I knew what kinds of questions to ask. Now she will avoid that confrontation at any cost.

If you look back at the journal entry that started all of this (see V.1), the one that alleged that Lori was having an affair, you will note that it was only a short paragraph. The statement in question read:

After being accused of everything under the sun including cheating on her, I may come to find out that she has been the one to carry on an affair. Strange. She threatened to have an affair if I didn't meet her demands.

This shocking exposé has numbed me. I felt extremely depressed. Bruce's suggestion that I take a couple of years off from life sounded so good. I no longer know what to believe. As it stands, the story already sounds like a novel. The real problem is that it is too believable. I have a real gut feeling that we have uncovered the truth. I don't think that I would have accepted any of this if it were not for the fact that the kitty in the park disappeared.

To be continued ... Go to V.7