Keeper of Lost Lives
Welcome, my friends, to the show that never ends ...
We have come accept our throw-away existence without question. We go through Toilet Duck, food, water and people like there is no tomorrow. We treat them all the same. Once spent, they are refuse or garbage. And, we treat our own lives that way. Lost lives. They seem to drift about at the threshold of invisibility. That is why I am the Keeper. I am the Keeper of Lost Lives ... one of them being my own.
I neglected to mention that Big Don questioned me last night about a rumor he heard that I had a babe. He also wanted to know if I am going to be in Hawai'i this summer when he and his family are there. He said that he didn't want to call and find out from moms that I was still somewhere on the mainland. Apparently, The Bull was very busy last week. He must have spread this rumor throughout the gym. At one point during dinner last night, the Cardinal had a big grin on his face. I knew what was coming next. He and Randy wanted to know about my babe. I should have told them to ask The Bull since he was sitting right across from me and he seems to know more of what is going on than I do. Anyway, I will miss the gang. Our next scheduled event is Monday ... all-you-can-eat ribs at This Olde House. Yeah! And, don't forget to check out my collaborator's guest entry on the last day of Eunuchs or UNIX: The Monk Years.
I finally stopped by Rod's place. He came by last Saturday when my collaborator and I were heading to the beach. We caught up on old times. Rod may also buy the K-Mart all-in-one entertainment center from me. He said he has been trying to call at all different hours. I guess I need at least an answering machine. When I had one, no one called. I arrived back here to listen to Mrs. Idiot slamming the door even harder. I think she and Mr. Idiot had a fight earlier, and he stormed outta there. BigFoottm must be in the money now. He and his chewin' tobaccy buddy are playing a video game tonight. People have been going in and out of the corral all night. It's another hoe-down! Me ... I'm just happy as a clam!
Expelling demons of the mind is, however, not kid's play. It is something we as grownups must deal with everyday. I can only be inspired by Josh (Tom Hank's character) in Big. I was talking to Tom (a guy I used to see in the Lab) yesterday. He described his own metamorphosis to weave himself into the fabric of society. In the last few weeks, he and others offered the suggestion of finding a job as the cure-all for my malady. Most everyone I know works well over 40 hours a week, and that does not include the commute. Some have significant others or families. I wonder how they can rationalize a couple of hours of "quality time." I must live in a dream world. I really do come and go as I please. And, I really do hope that my collaborator and I can realize the dream of becoming successful writers, so we can both go on to realize other personal dreams. I want to see the Cradle of Civilization. I am compelled to. If I had a job, I may be able to do that. I could use my two-week vacation and sign up with Akbar's Tours in Tel Aviv. What if I wanted to explore the region for six months? Would I have a job when I came back? Would I be embraced for entertaining my curiosity or ostracized as a nut? Right now, I have the time but not the means to get there. But, time, in itself, is a luxury beyond price.
I met with Bonnie today. Most of our discussion centered on job hunting. However, counseling is a field that has dried up. I could consider myself more fortunate because I also have an engineering degree and an MBA. So, why am I where I am? That's basically because I'm a non-achiever. I can't and won't compete. Caroll and Bonnie are good people but I think we have much less in common as the days go on. They are barely surviving. They are stressed out. They know that conventional techniques do not apply to them yet they stay with them. I can't say that I know better, but I won't keep going back for more crap just because that is all there is.
My old boss e-mailed me today. Apparently, the application I had designed in dBase IV was transported to another computer by a clone of yet another Pocket Protector Group. Somehow he screwed up and corrupted the indexes. Now, they need the ol' eunuch's help. These are the "experts" who bad-mouthed me and tried to make me look like some kind of idiot. The funny part is that I was probably the only person who could even write code. I will have to think about whether I should even donate my time. Well, hey! I was fired!
The sinister force continued to toy with the oversized cranium. BigFoottm was on the phone and pacing the corral for over an hour in a manner reminiscent of Loser. He was using a circular itinerary that covered the perimeter of the corral. Mrs. Idiot was engaged in slammin' soirée. The punchline is that it still doesn't affect me. I just broke out the Donald Duck orange juice and everything was fine.
One of the guys at the gym told me on Wednesday that he thought about twenty other people would leave once I did. In actuality, I knew that no one else would. They will stay on and continue to appease that psycho gym "owner." Frankly, I couldn't take it anymore. Why should I pay to be treated badly by some moron? I think that most of those guys will still be there if I were to come back to visit in a year. In a way, I'm glad that the fool did what he did. He enabled me to finally free myself of being a hypocrite. I won't have to explain why I hate that clown while working out at his gym (that he doesn't really own).
I should also take a moment thank my collaborator for submitting the guest entry. Thanks to email@example.com for coming up with the idea of a guest entry, and also firstname.lastname@example.org, email@example.com, firstname.lastname@example.org, and FrostbiteX@aol.com who extended kudos to my collaborator.
Unfortunately, BigFoottm's babe is visiting him this weekend. So, you can guess what I am privy to hear. That's right ... the old Kama Sutra routine! Well, at least he has a life. Have you ever wondered why people always equate a life with having a stud or a babe? Whassup wi' dat? When one is alone, then one has no life. What about monks?
After a short bout of writer's block, I think I am ready to start back up on the novel. I am also going to write up a proposal to see if these journals can get published. Why, I don't know. I also have a couple of other writing projects that need to be completed soon. Sometimes I think that I was not cut out for writing. Most authors are churning out several books per year. How do they do it? I can barely squeeze out a few lines for these journals. Sheesh!
I won't be going to the Lab anymore either. After my fun experience two weeks ago, I decided that the Lab was a far cry from Club Med. That really doesn't leave much for the ol' eunuch. I guess I will just be sitting here for two months until I move. I didn't want it to work out this way but, apparently, my agenda has already been planned out by the sinister force. So, I may be in seclusion for the next two months! Isn't that great?
Yet another interesting development ... as I washed my six-four for no reason, an U-Haul truck pulled up to the Roach Motel. Two guys were moving stuff in, and then I realized that they were moving stuff into Loser's "palace." Loser has moved out! This truly marks the end of an era. My collaborator will have been the only outside person to have ever seen Loser. No doubt, all of us will miss Loser and we wish him well in his new pacing world, wherever that may be.
The Cardinal called and wanted to meet. We ended up at Starbuck's for coffee. Looks like all-you-can-eat ribs is still on for tomorrow. The Cardinal also mentioned that The Bull told him how Tam devastated him because he is "too used to having his way with women." The Bull also told the Cardinal that he has never had a babe reject him. Most times, they are fighting to be with him. He makes the rules, and the babes follow them. I guess he really is a legend.
Well, now that Loser is gone, I am the sole (April) fool here. Sometimes I wonder if I have contracted Mad Cow disease. And, by the way, what's next? Mad Armadillo? How about Mad Eunuch? I am frantically trying to make arrangements for the big Bay Area trip this coming weekend. That's right, we're taking LoserNet on the road again! And, no, The Bull is not coming along. There may be several excursions this Spring but much of that will be limited by my non-existent finances. My collaborator will also be there. Hopefully we may meet up with some other cast members like Skip. Well, hey! This may be the last season!
It was all-you-can-eat ribs night, and it was good. I am sure that I am due for a heart attack anytime now. I need to find a new gym quick! It was nice to see the old gang. Five of us went including the Cardinal, Randy, Eric, The Bull and myself. The restaurant tried to limit us on the quantity of ribs we could eat. Whassup wi' dat?
|It does make me wonder, though. Is it romance that is missing from everyone's lives these days? I'm not just talking about dating. I just wonder if many of us have lost the passion for living, and hence, lost the will to survive beyond the mundane. We walk around like zombies and are oblivious to the preciousness of life. I think I have taken my life for granted. I just existed and did what I had to, albeit resentfully. I have forgotten how to savor every second of my existence. I don't think the answer is to seek excitement every waking moment or to buy up everything in sight. It is a purely spiritual romance. And, it is our own self whom we should be courting.||I have forgotten how to savor every second of my existence.|
The reservations for the hotel were easily changed. So, it looks like I will be leaving Thursday morning in my six-four for the big SF adventure. And, the best part is that you will be right there with me! When I end up at the Mitchell Bros Theatre, you will be there! Just kidding! It is definitely a full moon! My collaborator will be arriving in SF in the evening. Will we be working on the book? Hopefully, we can get some of that in, what, with the sightseeing and all. I just can hardly wait to be in Dirty Harry's hometown!
I have actually been plugging my phone in lately when my computer is not on-line. Yesterday, I got a call from the primary of an article I was co-authoring with for a professional journal. I finished the draft back in December. She finally got around to saying that she does not want to publish it because it is outdated now. Well, yeah. You know, I was under the impression that publishing was very important in these fields but some people just don't get it. I have been trying to get published for a while now. That is why I want to finish the novel. Thank goodness that I have a great collaborator! Speaking of writing, I entered a writing contest sponsored by the manufacturer of my computer. I did not win but I did receive a nifty license plate frame. I have to wonder about my writing skills.
It is hard to look back in retrospect about my time here. I came to Cali with essentially only two suitcases. Now, over twenty years later, I will be leaving with the same two suitcases. Why am I thinking about this now? I don't know. I have nothing to my name except a huge debt and my beloved computer. I have no accumulated wealth, no equity, no career, and no life, as the saying goes. My only accomplishment has been to provide some levity to the few people who have come into contact with me. I might have made a good Court Jester back in the old days. The fight is not over yet, though. I have a couple of months to at least get started in the right direction. All the things that have been happening are far from any crisis situation. A few months ago, however, I would have been in a state of panic over simple things like not having a gym. It sounds stupid, but it's not. I believe that I came to grips with the transient nature of life when I was fired back in September. The problem now is that I haven't decided whether to remain a smoldering ember among the ashes or to rise up from it all like the Phoenix. Sheesh! It will be a nice drive to SF on Thursday morning.
The drive to the Bay Area was very nice. I arrived in San Francisco at 4:30pm. I checked in at the rustic Hotel Britton down on 7th Street. When I say rustic, I mean rustic. My collaborator arrived at about 8:30pm. After unpacking, we took the hotel shuttle to Union Square and walked around. It was nice to be in the city, and it was fun to see all the bright lights and crazy entertainment. It was also nice to hear some real radio stations like Wild 107 with Vicious D!
Many thanks to Michael.Dosenbach@Eng.Sun.COM for letting me know the weather up in SF. Thanks to email@example.com for tips on places to see. And, thanks to firstname.lastname@example.org, email@example.com, and firstname.lastname@example.org for writing in. And finally, thanks to former A-Team member KAMP_MICHAEL/ASTRAL00@amat.com for writing!
Later that evening, my collaborator and I took the Geary Express bus to meet Skip and his babe Lorraine at a Japanese restaurant. What was surprising was that we beat them there with time to spare. I thought that they were not going to show up because they were late. They were trying to find parking. Fortunately, my collaborator had more faith than I did, otherwise we would have left. Skip began the evening by asking, "So, how are your vows holding up?" Somehow Skip must have thought that my vows were being jeopardized. Why? We returned to Union Square to catch the shuttle but we missed it. So, we walked around. Several of the more colorful citizens of SF mentioned to me that I was in the company of real babe. One guy grabbed my arm, and told me, "That's a fine woman you're with." We were dressed nicely for the occasion. In fact, that was the first time I wore long pants in years.
It was not a real nice drive home for me. My six-four sounded like it was ready to explode. I had a nice getaway. Now it was time to return to the Roach Motel. I didn't even think about my beloved computer all weekend. When I returned to my shoebox, however, it was the first thing I turned on. Sheesh!
I must have left my house keys in the lock when I closed the door. I could not find them. I assumed either security took them or some wannabe crook is going to have a field day in here. The Bull left a note on my door that he and the Cardinal came by today to see if I wanted to go to the movies. Matt's big luncheon is tomorrow. I am happy that the gym gang still keeps in touch.
The weekend was rejuvenating but it has now opened up new questions about where my life is heading. Certain aspects are in a state of flux. I can only wish that I had the answers. In other cases, the answers are already there. I just need to get a clue. There is one thing that has changed for sure and it was totally unexpected. It does seem to occupy my mind more these days. Yet, its true impact has not been felt yet. That journey remains to be taken at another time, albeit in the very near future.
The Cardinal called me this morning to remind me
about Matt's luncheon. He said that he and The Bull were looking for me
yesterday. Part of the conversation went like this ...
"I've been up in San Francisco," I replied.
"Are you sure, man? Are you sure you didn't go further north, man, like to the border?"
"No, man, I was in the Bay Area all weekend."
"Okay, man," he said, laughing and barely able to compose himself. "I
was getting worried, man. I was going to call 9-1-1."
As the day continued ... well, I met the Cardinal later in the afternoon at Starbuck's for coffee. He asked me how the weather was in Oregon. I told him I didn't know since I was only in the Bay Area. Sooner or later, it came out that I met my collaborator there in SF. The Cardinal then exclaimed, "I knew it!" He mentioned also that, in a strange turn of events, he was "fired" by his babe. She had gone over to his place last Thursday while he was at the gym. The Cardinal claimed that he did not know she was going to be there, so he decided to go to all-you-can-eat Chinese with the boys. When he returned home, he found that his place had been cleaned and his laundry was done. On top of the laundry was his spare key that baby had been using. He called baby to find out what's what. As it turns out, baby was mad because the Cardinal had gone to dinner with the boys even though she didn't tell him she was coming over. In fact, she thought he was out on a date. She told him to give the spare key to her. As the Cardinal was explaining the situation to baby on the phone, he said that the next thing he knew he heard the dial tone. The Bull said that the whole thing was funny because that was probably the first time he told her the truth and she didn't believe him.
This just in ... The Bull and Randy have both bought brand new computers, and they will both be on-line to read ... you guessed it! I wonder what they are going to think. Mrs. Idiot has been engaged in an extended slammin' soirée, no doubt preparing a 58-course meal for her and fellow cylinder, Mr. Idiot. I really wish I had a gym to go to so I would not have to listen to this. I finally found my keys. I searched for hours and could not find them. I called the office because I thought I left them in the lock last night. As if by some miracle, the keys appeared on top of the bed this morning. It was the sinister force toying with my sanity. I went over to Big John's for a bit in the evening before finally returning home to have my dinner at 10:30pm (Bush's baked beans, of course!).
Things are finally beginning to stabilize around
here. Perhaps I am ready to accept my lot in life. When I was in SF, I
got to see the sheer number of homeless and destitute roaming the streets
day and night. It wasn't a pretty picture, certainly not the panoramic
display of beautiful people that proliferate this affluent community.
I, however, am not one of those beautiful people. I have more in common
with the destitute. In fact, time is all that separates them from me. Yes,
the one and only luxury I have is running out. Maybe I should move to Montana
and join the Free Men!
|What makes people like Bill Gates, Charles Barclay, or Nicole Kidman better than The Idiots, BigFoottm, you, or I? Are they that much smarter, better looking, and more talented than we are? Are they the chosen? Even in this microcosm of life, certain few like The Bull and Tam are to be exalted as the select few. Who does the choosing? Apparently we do. In our quest to find role models, we project our innermost insecurities about our own perceived deficiencies onto people we think we would rather be. We pay out big bank to keep our icons on pedestals, and we squander our resources to keep them in the lap of luxury. We put them where they are, then we live vicariously through them all the while wishing we could be more like them. In a way, it is the same situation with our elected officials. We put them in office. Then, we complain because none of them do what we want. Yet, we have empowered all of these individuals. We have selected them and empowered them, all the while hoping that they would not forget their roots. Living vicariously is a very dangerous venture. When we don't believe in ourselves, we want someone else to test the waters. We want someone else to take the chances. We created and support the infrastructural pyramid of society. But, where is the weight the greatest?||Living vicariously is a very dangerous venture. When we don't believe in ourselves, we want someone else to test the waters.|
I had never met my collaborator before three weeks ago. Our friendship started in October last year, and it progressed through e-mail from innocuous banter to a joint effort on a novel. It wasn't until last month that there was any talk of meeting. When we finally met, we struck a bond of friendship that has become very special. We are separated by a thousand miles but we decided to meet again in San Francisco last weekend. We had a fun time. Perhaps the distance makes us cherish the short time we can spend as friends and briefly brought together our very separate lives that we live in two different worlds. There is comfort in knowing that there is someone who thinks about you and cares about your welfare, too. That makes life bearable. It makes one's existence worthwhile. I think about all the people who spend time with others just to kill time ... all the while waiting for a better opportunity to come along. They take others for granted, even though they have the luxury of proximity. How sad.
This really is a strange time for me. I was meandering along in my monastic existence, oblivious to everything except the slammin' soirée. I am happy that my collaborator took the time to tap me on the shoulder and say hello. I don't want to worry about the slammin' soirée or BigFoottm anymore. I want to open an entirely new chapter if I can. But, that how it should be. Well, hey! I'm the Keeper of Lost Lives!
My collaborator called last night. It was very nice to hear her voice. That made me think about how hard it is to communicate with someone with only the luxury of Ascii characters. Of course, I should be thankful that it is possible to even talk in real time. But, nothing beats communicating in person. That is probably why I always hated the phone. It is especially annoying when both parties are doing the dishes or watching the tube at the same time. We become so used to trying to do several things at the same time that we forget we are talking to someone.
I realized that I never finished that story about baby that I was telling just before the OJ verdict came in back in the first week of October. Needless to say, baby ran off with my buddy Dick and left me a quivering blob of jelly. But, really, I forced her hand. A man could not have asked for a better babe. She was in love, and I was a fool. The worst part is that I had asked her several years prior to become my wife. It was I who reneged on that promise. Over the years, I have had opportunities for relationships. Oddly, most were of the gym babe variety, some almost half my age. I decided I couldn't go through with that again. Then, I became a monk. Now, it seems there is an opportunity to do it all again. It came as quite a surprise, albeit a pleasant one. I find myself thinking about baby a lot. I look at pictures of her that she just sent. I review her e-mail archive periodically. Is it love? I don't know. I may have forgotten what that word means, at least in the romantic sense. I do know that baby and I have shared the same tube of toothpaste! But seriously, I care a lot about baby, and time with her is very special. Babes do that to guys! But, what do I know anyway? Maybe I just had too much coffee this morning.
I have been trying to get a hold of Steph for a few days. She e-mailed me last Thursday. I e-mailed back, but she claims to only check e-mail every two weeks (what?). Caroll called me at the hotel when I was up in SF. I arranged to stop in Salinas on my way back here to Convalescent City. She was not there when I arrived and I have not heard from her since. Strange things. This just in ... I finally got in touch with Steph. She's going to be working at Trader Joe's in about two weeks. She was shocked that I no longer go to the gym, but then she realized why ... the gym "owner." And, she's planning on discovering Alaska this summer. I asked her why she didn't invite me and Tom. Sheesh!
There was nothing for me to do except to go over to Big John's for Homicide. I had my own version of Cops on the way when one of Convalescent City's finest stopped me for a dead headlight. It was a ten-minute ordeal as we had to check all my paperwork. All the while, I was getting the once over. The six-four really looks like a stolen vehicle. Yeah, right. Fortunately, the episode of Homicide was real good. It more than made up for the stupidity with the rollers. I may go into total seclusion for the rest of the weekend now. Sheesh!
So, the question is ... do I have a babe or not? Well, it looks like I do, that is, until baby realizes that I'm just a boy in the army. Just kidding! I'm not trying to get sappy. You know how guys hate that sappy stuff! I have to admit that there is something great about having a babe. There is nothing like spending time with a babe and the situation never gets old. What? Sappy? Okay, I could be talking through my hat but I doubt it. So, why don't most guys want a sappy relationship? I don't know. That may be too much of a commitment or may bite into their time with the boys. Maybe guys just like skinnin' and having someone who worships the ground they walk on. I hope that my years as a monk have enabled me to learn from my mistakes. I hope that I have learned how to treat a babe and how to treat her special because baby will do the same for me.
I was dying to do something tonight but I opted to go down to Barnes & Noble by myself. I needed to find a book on manuscript submissions. It turns out there are tons of books on writing. There are even books with ready-made plots to churn out potential bestsellers. Isn't that something? Next thing you know, there will be a book about new ways to use toilet paper. I'm glad that I went alone. I was tempted to do coffee time but I think most of the people I know are bored by doing the same old thing and talking about the same old things. For them, the tube offers a much more interesting platter of options. I won't stop them from indulging their fancy. That's life in the Convalescent City!
The Idiot's dog, Fido, has been barking all morning again. I put on some Dogg Pound to try to sedate him but I just ended up howling along with him. Bow wow. Speaking of Steph, she called to cancel the possible get together tonight with me and Tom. We will be meeting on Tuesday instead. She said that I had better call her if I can't make it because she doesn't want be alone with Tom for dinner. Apparently, Tom called her last night for a dinner date but she was not home at the time. I asked her if it would be all right if I mentioned (during dinner on Tuesday) that she and Tom could make a nice couple. That did not go over too well. She also said that she will submit a revision to the Monk's Guide to Dating. Incidentally, my collaborator contributed a few tidbits to the guide. Baby also has the only outside link from this site! And, thanks to email@example.com for writing in.
I finally am getting around to writing again. It would be nice to have a quiet place to write instead of having to put with all this ambient noise. Since I have no life here in the Convalescent City, I will have no choice but to write continuously even with the hoe-downs. Well, BigFoottm had the luxury of a nap this afternoon, so he invited his chewin' tobaccy buddies over again at eight. This is the first day I have felt the urge for violence in a long time. Here I see all these clowns driving brand new trucks and partying 24/7 with someone else's dough, and then I hear this crap about farm subsidies. There's enough beer flowing up in the corral to justify opening another Coors Brewery here in the Convalescent City. Who's paying for those brewskis? Taxpayers?
It was a warm night, so I walked to the library to do some research for the book. When I returned, I could hear The Idiots playing with their answering machine. It is strange but I have noticed that they never answer the phone when they are home. I can hear the answering machine going off during the slammin' soirées. These are the kinds of psychos who live at the Roach Motel. Sheesh!
I called Steph to confirm the dinner tonight. She said that she left a message for Tom on Saturday but had not heard from him. I asked if she called him back. She said no. She wanted me to call Tom to find out if he was going and call her back. So, I called Tom. He wasn't home. I left a message for him to call Steph. Have I been a monk too long or are all babes like this? I remember talking to Steph on Saturday and she said, "I guess if I want to talk to you I have to invite Tom along." I gave her the old Three Musketeers line, "All for one, one for all." In the meantime, BigFoottm came home around four and turned his tube up full blast.
Dinner at the Firestone Café was nice. Steph didn't eat anything because she claimed she was not hungry. What? She was the one who set up the dinner. It was an interesting conversation. Somehow the topic of relationships came up, and yes, the difference between guys and babes. It is a seemingly endless discussion. Tom and I went to get some coffee. Steph went home to get some things done. I don't think that she was too impressed by our company. We are boring. That was another topic ... why babes always want those exciting, cutting edge, bad boy studs. Well, hey! They are not boring! I'm glad that I am boring and lifeless like some limp, wet Ramen noodles. At least I can be myself!
This is a real crisis situation we have here. I have not even realized that I have been choking the chicken in this dump that long. Where have I been? I may need to go into extended seclusion. Yeah. Yeah. That's right ... extended seclusion. Yeah. Yeah. That's the ticket then. I'm going into extended seclusion as of now! I'm not even going to read e-mail. Yeah. Yeah. I'll report the results of my mental field trip. Yeah. Yeah.
Day one. I have already purchased over a two-week supply of Bush's baked beans, so I am prepared for this extended seclusion. I have also completely closed the blinds to shut out any ambient noise. I find it odd but I think I have just discovered the true meaning of In The Labyrinth. It has been 25 years almost to the day since I first read Robbe-Grillet's work. I have come full circle, back to the beginning. The total displacement vector is zero. Perhaps the journey was never taken. I may have been in the same spot, aging, for all that time. Maybe I crossed the continuum and lived in multiple existences only to realize that reality made the time slice for me. I am here now. But, for how long?
After talking to baby via the computer for an hour or so, and then for another two hours on the phone, I would say that seclusion has effectively been breached. We have an interesting situation developing ... one that seems to defy logic and is totally confusing. We have all the elements that make up friendship love, and also the elements of romantic love. I have refrained from calling it love, even though I share almost the same feelings and thoughts with baby. Is it a guy thing? Is it commitment anxiety? Lord knows, I'm now in my forties. Baby should do what she has to do. I must do what I have to do. Logic says that we should go our separate ways. If we don't, would that be desperation wielding its ugly head? And, what should we do with our lives (although I don't have one) in the here and now? I thought about who I could share and query opinion from. I really couldn't come up with anyone who would spend the time to share these thoughts. That should tell me something. What do you think?
I may be returning to California at least in September to be a part of one of the outings with the gym gang. I hope that there will be a series of events because the trip will be costly. Things get crazier as the days count down. I know where I am going but not what I will be doing. It is a little unsettling but it is also refreshing. And, it will be a journey into the unknown or it may just be a step back in time. For once, I believe I am ready. I have not decided when these journals will end. I look upon that day with a heavy heart.
For the time being, I am going to return to the state of quasi-existence I have come to know and love. The phone has returned to being a paperweight. I'll be packing up what little I have and giving other things to Goodwill. I'll spend some time with a few friends here. Perhaps I will get some last words of wisdom from The Master. That's what it's all about here in Convalescent City. I have also made the best, albeit painful, decision that my collaborator and I should just remain friends and working partners. For a fleeting moment, we seemed to have lost track of reality. I have come back to my senses. My true call has been to be a monk, and that is what I shall be. Given another time and differing circumstances, things may have been different. Our meeting in San Francisco was the last time I will see her for a long time. I will never forget that.
My collaborator accepted the decision readily. I, on the other hand, am having a difficult time with it. It is a depressing situation, probably because my feelings for baby were growing everyday. Now, I am attempting to stop all of it with a brick wall. Perhaps, I should have let the relationship continue in hopes that things would work out. But then, how could it have? Am I losin' it?
Baby is one of the nicest babes I have met in my lifetime. She may have her moments, but so do I. She says she could spend forever with me and I think I can say that about her, too. I wish we could spend much more time together. I don't know if I would like us to become like The Idiots. The Idiots went out to the store last night at ten to get some grub. The slammin' soirée would attest to that. Can you believe that they shake the floor when they walk? Yeah, and it's concrete! But, back to my story. Now that I have recovered from my foolishness, I need to come up with a strategic plan (I learned that in the MBA program). Baby has invited me up to Oregon for the Summer. At first, I was apprehensive. Now it seems like a great idea. But, can I remain on good behavior that long? Just kidding! I am always well behaved. You can thank moms for that. That's why I don't stuff my face with Ding Dongs and slam every door in sight either.
What happened to the storm that was coming in? It is sunny and warm. I'm not complaining, mind you, but that made it hard to sit at the computer in my shoebox. The Idiots dog, Fido, was at it again. That gave me an excuse to put on some Dogg Pound. What am I going to do today? I'm a boring guy. I wish I didn't sell my beloved Specialized mountain bike about four years ago to my homey V. Can you believe that I sold it because I thought I was moving to Hawai'i? Look where I am today. Sheesh!
Tthe only burning question I have is ... who is this Dr. Jai Maharaj guy? Is he a real doctor, or is he about as much of a doctor as Dr. Dre? The reason I ask is because I now subscribe to the newsgroup alt.fan.jai-maharaj, and I am trying to figure out what's going on in there. That is because I do not have a life. Baby and I have been communicating electronically most of the day. I'm surprised baby stayed at home because she has got it goin' on. So, why is baby hanging around a lavahead like myself? Got me. Maybe I should ask that Dr. Jai Maharaj guy.
I couldn't take the slammin' soirée much
longer, so I went over to Tom's place. We walked downtown and checked out
the situation. I returned home to the slammin' soirée. In a fit
of rage, I kicked the doors under the sink. I could have easily broke them.
I knew I couldn't stay here, so I left again. I took my recycling in, and
stopped in to see The Master. The Master was in good spirits. He spent
some time telling me how the tube is the center of his life, and it upsets
him if anyone or anything gets in the way of his tube watching. The Master
has, however, realized that drop dead gorgeous twenty-year-old babes may
be out of the league now. He has also been evaluating the move to the new
Hermitage. After that enlightening discussion, I returned to the Roach
Motel. Finally, I should include an ode written by firstname.lastname@example.org (aka
Chicken Guy) ...
|ode to the monk
There once was a guy named the monk
We grew to hate the loser's indiscretion,
He started "The 41-year-old virgin,"
I have finally negotiated the gym situation. I found out that I have actually had a gym for the last four weeks. Further, I have over three years worth of free gym time right here (not at the prick's place, though). Where have I been? I have also begun to actively sell a few of my possessions prior to my big trek up north. That's right! We are taking the show on the road to Oregon! I already have the maps. All I will have left is my $9 phone and my broken French press. I'll put those in a box and store it at a friend's place. So, what about that $40,000 in loans I have? They come due in September. Well, I've just joined the Free Men. I don't answer to those laws anymore. I am now a sovereign nation!
Spring is finally upon us here in Convalescent City. It has been warm and sunny. This is The Bull's kind of weather because it brings all the babes out on parade. The Bull also mentioned yesterday that Eric is in love, too. Eric is doing things for baby that he normally doesn't do in a skin 'em up situation. The Bull also mentioned a few more of the meatheads who are players. Steph mentioned another gym stud, Lance, who she had a crush on. She said he was a hella nice guy. I remember that he was a jerk and a player. I didn't tell her that because she wasn't too happy when I told her that Heavy D was a player. People are so enamored by looks that they are willing to overlook any character flaw. After all, they look so good, they couldn't possibly do wrong. But, when one is detestable like the ol' loser, then people attribute every possible flaw to that person. I just wonder how many people are making fun of the ol' loser behind his back.
Instead of going to my new gym, I decided to stay in and play with my computer. I had a big bag of potato chips and some cereal for dinner. My goal is turn into a total slob. To add to the ambiance, I was privy to a hoe-down courtesy BigFoottm and his buddy, Clem. Tonight, they are smoking cigars and drinking Coors out on the balcony. A couple of babes were outside in the parking lot conversing with BigFoottm at the top of their lungs. These are your farm subsidy dollars at work! This is what I call living! The funny part is that there are people who would kill for a chance at a pathetic lifestyle like this. You know, I don't want to do anything anymore. Sometimes I just want to lie down on the floor and fall asleep forever. Ho boy.
I had to go to the dentist this morning. Since all I have are rubberized debit vouchers, I ended up paying cash for the visit. I am now down to $20 in cash. I am trying to avoid drawing cash on my credit cards, so I will see how long that will last. I have no other access to cash as I have no money! I have sold everything except my body. Who would want that? I don't even want it.
I checked out the new gym today. The rumors I heard were true. It was so packed in there that there was no way anyone could be doing a proper workout. At best, one could attempt some circuit training. Otherwise, it would take six hours to complete a muscle group. Of course, it was a babefest in there. That may explain everything. I may have to go in at six in the morning or just settle for being a wimpy slob. Sheesh! That brings me the subject of my inflexible persona. I don't like change. I like to have things remain the same everyday ... slow, monotonous, boring. I like being a loser. Challenges are too much for me. If I had my way, I'd be in the closet listening to rap music all day. I learned this concept from The Master. Why do you think he is The Master? I do well here because I don't need to do anything. I sit here. Or, I take the Toilet Duck and swab the bowl. Maybe I should become a janitor. Hark! What do I hear? Oh, it's the sweet, melodious sounds of a hoe-down! Yes, my prayers have been answered!
|What is really beginning to get to me is how helpless I've become. I am debilitated. I have molded my life after the most popular debtor nations. Now, I have to pay homage to my creditors. In the midst of this, I decided to go on vacation. Soon, I'm going to Oregon. What am I thinking? Common sense should dictate that I decide where to go, move there, get a job at Burger King, and be happy. There are no such things as dreams. Dreams are for kids and schizophrenics. Our dreams can only come true if we define them within the constraints of reality. Reality, itself, has been defined for us by those in power. They tell us how much we can earn, how many days we can go on vacation, what we need to buy, and so forth. They make the rules, we just follow them. It really isn't so bad, right? Don't worry, be happy! If that's the case, why is everyone drinking and smoking themselves into oblivion?||Our dreams can only come true if we define them within the constraints of reality.|
It has been a warm day. Toward sunset, it got even warmer. I decided to do my Spring cleaning. Actually, it is the start of my final cleaning of the shoebox. I cleaned the windows, and then the shower. There was mold on the ceiling. Oddly, I also noticed some strands of hair stuck to the ceiling. Was somebody doing the wild thing in there, or what? Where was I? In any case, the days are rapidly counting down to check out time. Soon, no more Idiots! No more BigFoottm!
I may have to opt for the $70 workout at home as was suggested by email@example.com and Brattle@world.std.com. I know that I am losing it because of endorphin and enkephalin deprivation. I was happy as a clam when I was working out. Well, maybe not. I plan to go to the gym while I'm in Oregon, that is, if I haven't shrank to the size of an amoeba by then. I wonder if there is an equivalent to The Bull up there. If there is, I may need to continue the journal. Is it time for the Bush's baked beans?
I have had cereal for dinner three times this week. That may replace the Bush's baked beans soon. I don't need much nourishment. I am a computer nerd. That only left one thing ... the AutoMall. I will be there until at least two this morning. Am I having too much fun?
I have started packing my belongings. All I needed was one small box. I have not sold the K-Mart. No one seems to want it. Maybe I should give it away or I could have a little LoserNet contest. Who knows? I have been using the box of my belongings as a dumbbell. This is the only exercise I get now. I have turned into a bag of bones weighing about 68 lbs. Do you think that this has something to do with my Froot Loops dinners? I have really become puny and demoralized. There is one thing I learned at the gym ... babes do not notice puny guys.
And, speaking of heatwave, why not break open a
can (not bottle) of Coors and have a hoe-down? That's right! It's time
for my favorite and his ... BigFoottm's
hoe-down! Pop open that Coors and drop 'em back! Put on those aggie boots
and do the electric slide on the kitchen linoleum! Yeeeehaaa! Ride 'em
cowboy! Take yer partner ... swing her 'round ... move o'er the spittoon
... he shoots, he scores! And, remember to cuss like there's no tomorrow.
Here's a real-life sample:
"Yeah, that motherf---in' a---hole thought he had the f---in' biggest f---in' humongous f---in' sheep! F---!"
"I f---in' told him to f---in' cram his f---in' boot up his f---in' a--, f---, I f---in' showed him, f---!"
All I had the energy to do today was "duck" tape the plastic on my six-four. It is this kind of careful attention to my six-four that allows me to reap the rewards of frustration. Maybe I will Lime-Away those crusty deposits on my shower doors while I'm at it. And, maybe ... yes, maybe ... I'll swab out the bowl with some Toilet Duck!
I ran some errands with my newly "duck" taped six-four, which further confirmed that there was a babefest. Guys were swerving around on the road, barely able to concentrate, because all the babes were running around in their little cutoffs. It was a spectacle. I'm surprised that there weren't any pileups! Are the babes really that hot that they have to wear those things? Guys don't wear skimpy outfits when it's hot, do they? No wonder there is a lot of downloading going on! Sheesh!
The Keeper of Lost Lives
The 42-Year-Old Virgin ... Tralfaz
The Bull ... Himself
The Cardinal ... Himself
Baby ... Herself
You ... Yourself
And a small handful of extras!
Presented by Consolidated House of Loser Productions
© Copyright 1996 by The 42-Year-Old Virgin.
LoserNettm Love It, or Lose It.