Nevermind

Nope, nevermind. Promise is off.

So I'll tell you what it was. Just because I like remembering stupid things I said and/or thought.

I had promised to marry Diana in ten years, if neither of us found someone. With such a condition, that meant to me that: "hey, look, we each tried to find a way, if it doesn't work, lets find a way."

She seemed into it. I thought that meant something good. Not so much that she wants me (I'm not that stupid), but that she can see a life with me. But, no, she wanted an "open" marriage.

So, ah, let me get this straight. We marry, I take care of her, yet, her heart would belong to any number of others? And I benefit from this, how? I can't marry someone who wouldn't be into me. Just like I can't be with Linda anymore because she's not into me, no matter how much she begs and pleads. (Yes, babe, you were fucking begging me: I wish you heard yourself.)

The over the top limit? "Maybe I'll be nice to you."

Maybe. You'll. Be. Nice. To. Me.

What the fuck?! Don't fucking maybe me. Don't think I'm that fucking spineless that "oh, wow, ok, I'll do it all for a maybe." Bitch.

I wonder how it feels to use sex to try to get people to like you better.

Look, I'm a little out there right now. I'm holding secrets I'm not going to share, because I have too much honor. Just... ahhh... I'm trying hard to fight the urge to get into her head. It's breaking the rules to do so. I feel like a tool.

That's my destiny, I guess. I remember telling Su how I was scared that Diana would try to use me and I would let her. I don't recall what she said. I wish Su was on right now. I wish Carina were on right now. But... they're not.

Since when did I become so reliant on others to surround me? I used to be such an introvert. Now I'm writing about stuff in a public blog, longing for others, crazy stuff like that. I'd ask what's happening to me, but I don't really care. All I want is to go back to being the cold distant cat I used to be: and be happy at it.

Today I'm just terribly unhappy. I thought I had a way out of the very real and very dark potential destiny of being alone forever. And... yup yup, that's the way it is. No offense, but these Dianas and Lindas in my life just cause problems.

She just got a job, and now it's time to start getting her out of my life. I wove her in because I guess I wanted to believe something, anything. But if I'm obviously such a bother, such a object of disgust, then why am I here?

There's something wrong going on in my life. Either girls want to fuck me and avoid any kind of big deep emotional connection (Lisa wouldn't behave like a girlfriend, Jenny was married to another, Melissa thought I was holding her back, Linda was too embarassed to be seen with me in public), or girls have big deep emotional connections and can't fathom the idea that, hey, guess what, I'm a guy who's worth it.

Last time I chatted with Su, she asserted that I was in love with Diana. I refuted it. Then again, these are the types of things you never really know until you can look and see it all behind you. It's definitely not healthy. My opinion is that I'm not "in" love with her, but I love her in a friendly way. But, I don't want to be some chick's daddy. Nope. I don't need to live a heartbreak every single day after work. And keeping that promise might make that happen.

How do I unravel this rope around me?

Conversation from Earlier Today at Work

Consultant: "So, why does your system do it this way?"
Me: "Because that's the way I found it, and I bolted on the new functionality using the existing framework."
Consultant: "But that's the wrong way to do it."
Me: "Wrong?"
Consultant: "It isn't very efficient."
Me: "And I just explained why I did it that way."
Consultant: "No, you just said what you did. That's not WHY."
Me: "Then here's the why. I'm not reengineering this site. I'm not rebuilding it from the ground up. I only had a month to do this. To rebuild from scratch would take at least 3 months and your bosses wouldn't pony up the money to my company."
Consultant: "Hey, man, relax."
Me: "Oh, I'm relaxed."

*shrug*

Programmers are weird. Myself included.

The Promise

I've got a secret.

This one's a big one. This one will fucking blow you away if you knew it.

NO, LINDA, I DIDN'T HAVE SEX WITH HER. (just thought I'd cut you off at the pass.)

Besides, it's supposed to blow you away.

Well, it's a good thing she DOESN'T read this, because that was rather insulting on my part. Hey, look, I'm always willing to give people the benefit of the doubt. I told two people out there, privately, about my little Mind thing a week ago, and hopefully nobody read that blog post that I censored because beyond those two people I think it would just garner a whole lot of people thinking of polar bears to jam my feelers.

Anywho, for follow up, it's been pretty unavoidable to keep myself from doing that some more. At this point, not a day goes by that I don't stumble onto something here or there. Not all of it is a big deal. Little things from how uncomfortable the bed is to how delicious (or not) something is. But it is pretty vivid stuff, and occasionally I'll stumble onto something that just reenforces the reputation. I can't help it, especially if she can't.

I keep getting distracted. Right, the secret. Well, it's a bit of an experiment. On June 18th 2005, I made an assertion. On that same day, the assertion was met with positivity. We didn't talk about it again until a day or two later. She was serious. I was serious. This is an official experiment.

What does this experiment entail?

... umm... ahhh... *blush*

I'll tell you in 10 years.

Pussy

Yes, friends, this is a post about pussy.

Or rather A pussy.

Not anatomical, but someone who is SO BIG a pussy they've gotta attack my car, something that can't defend itself. Tire vandals.

I figured if it would happen, it would have happened a little sooner, like Sunday night or something.

But, I'm salary. Being late is no big thing. And I can afford a repair. Just how effective was that attack, anyway?

Something a child would do.

...

I have my suspicions. It's too bad I didn't have insomnia tonight, I would have killed them.

NEVER fuck with another man's vehicle. I don't care if he killed your mom. The vehicle is sacred.

Time for you to completely distrust me.

Nevermind the man behind the curtain.

(consider this post removed)

Truth

All I can offer in life is the truth. It's up to you to appreciate and accept it. I can't make that happen. It is the liars that manipulate things to make a fictional truth. It is the liars that seek to manufacture a truth. The truth stands on its own and is its own merit, the lie needs a reason to exist. The lie is seductive and beckons closer. The truth? It's there. It's there for you to take it, accept it, believe it. The lie needs to try hard to be accepted because it's a falsehood. On it's own , you would know it as such.

I'm sorry, Diana. I can only present the truth. The seductive lie is for you to withstand. When you overcome it, I know you will be stronger to the Roman Goddess Diana, the one of war. If you succumb to it, I know that your fate is nothing more than darkness and abuse.

I tried my best. I did. Truth shines on its own, I can only offer that. I can't color anything to look pretty. I can't make the truth look better than the lie. I don't have that kind of skill. If I did, trust me I would. But YOU have to chose it on your own. YOU have to attribute this to yourself and use that to grow.

This is the kind of love I can give my friend. To watch her become all that she can, and to become revolted at the bondage from one who means nothing but ill.

So I know bondage. Cool. Let me tell you a little about it. The sub GIVES her power to the dom. The dom never takes it. The understanding is that the dom CARES for her, and will never abuse her with his power. And the dom? The dom always seeks to have the sub push her limits, to become stronger than she ever thought possible. It is THAT which makes BDSM awesome. It's the trust and the love involved.

When the sub misplaces her trust, bad things happen. It always does. I try to prevent it from happening. All I can do is my best.

Pretending to Like You

One of the interesting things about human existance is the exploitation of others. Not so much BAD exploitation, it's people using natural talents and abilities to accomplish... something.

I'm not saying it's BAD, once again.

So I go to a strip club last night. Why? Um.... don't know. Well, yes, I do.

Yesterday, Linda told me something interesting. She said "Erik, you are so unattractive, but so sexy." It bugged me all day. Diana said it's because my mind is sexy. Somehow, that doesn't seem to help matters any. Linda's got a girl she's actively persuing, which is fine, after all, we're not a couple. But it seems that her motivation is that she's cute... which once again hammers home that no matter what I am on the inside, without an outside that beckons, no one will discover that inner goo. Sexy or not.

Anywho, at a strip club, it's real interesting. They get up, dance a little, take clothes off, then the dancers walk around "working" the bar, soliciting for tips. I'm not very good at tipping the dancers. I would see around and some would be wrapping arms around the patrons and pulling off their tops and kind of thrusting towards them... whereas I get a gentle stroke along the back and asked "did you like my dance?" Not that I'm ungrateful, it's just that they see me and seem to know they don't need to try hard. They can smell the lonliness, methinks.

BUT for $25, they'll pretend to like you. You get led into the VIP room, where you get a nice private, UBER comfortable seat. It's like three persons wide... so... I suppose they know the audience.

Actually, no, it's because when they call it a Friction Dance, they fucking mean it. It's hard to describe in retrospect... actually, no, it's real easy. Well ok. They started by making small talk, like "I'm turning 22 soon" and "I've been here on and off for two years" and stuff like that. I sat with your legs apart and the girl I had sat on my lap facing me, grinding into my crotch. She pushed her body close to my face and I could smell the perfume. I believe the scent was "Hussy, by Calvin Klein". A few times after that, she would back up and push her body close to me, her boobs in my face. She was fully clothed, if a bikini counts as fully clothed, which in my world, it does. She would also pull out and put her head down and hit my crotch with the back of her head and roll her head around to the forehead and then let her hair drop and run that across the front of my body and then giving me a close up of her boobs and... that scent again.

Scent is tied to memory.

Anywho, she also turned around a few times and grinded me that way and that was pretty hot because she was spread and she really, um, make sure I was in a good position to enjoy it. I could see myself enjoying it more if I were wearing something tight that transferred the feelings over better... but it still felt GOOD. And, yeah, thigh/leg to the crotch. That's kinda cool.

I went with Diana. I got her a few lap dances. I saw one of them... it was neat watching her get one from the same girl I got from. Some touching is allowed so I have to say it was kind of a turn on watching her enjoy the dance. I was pleased.

Later I got her another lap dance with someone she really liked and she said she had a much better dance. I didn't see it, but she said she got to suck on some boobies and they rubbed each other in a special place and stuff. Hmmm....

Girls Club.

But, that's the verdict. For a bit of time, and for a bit of cost, someone makes pretend she likes you and wants to turn you on. She wouldn't give me the time of day normally, but once inside the power shifts. Slightly. I'm still paying, so I guess it doesn't shift that much.

I'd say something about strippers, but even ordinary girls-next-door don't give me the time of day either. So, nyah.

Houseguest

Hello from the Manxiland Ranch.

I have a houseguest.

Don't be mad, red.

Before I say who it is, let me give a quick plug for the comic I'm writing for: NPC, which stands for, um, Nuggets Partially Chicken, I think. (Ok, ok, it's Non-Playable Characters... sheesh.)

Now that I have a houseguest, as a writer, I am seeing all sorts of possiblities. For example, at least once a week something will happen and here's just a preview of this season:

1) Someone gets amnesia for half an hour, and there is a wacky occurrance that causes the anmesia to reverse somehow.

2) The guest and someone of this household will get locked inside a closet or something for half an hour, and in that time try to kill each other. In the end, though, they really will love each other but things will be business as usual foreverafter. No one will ever suspect what happened.

3) Some zany adventure that involves animals. Lots of pets running around the house. It will go on for about half an hour until the misunderstanding is resolved.

4) Someone will get themselves set on fire. It will be the peak of an episode in which we all sit around talking about the shit that's happened over the past year. For half an hour.

It's Diana.

*gasp*

Well, look, folks, I've been blessed. Why not share?

*GASP*

Calm down. Linda and I had a talk. If she wants to be jealous of Di then go ahead. BUT she's also embarassed to be seen with me, refuses to let me mix with her friends, shies away from everything that involves us being seen together in public. She can't be simultaneously jealous of Diana and embarassed by me. I wouldn't ever have a girlfriend like that.

So there.

Oh, and, Kumquats.

The Code

Here's a little samplin' into what I simply call: The Code.

It's a code of honor. It's a code I live by. What's right and what's wrong. I am extremely familiar with it because every part of it I sat down, thought through, and decided. Sometimes it changes, as I become older and wiser. I've had to add to it as I encounter new moral and ethical decisions to make. I've had to delete from it as sometimes I make assumptions and derivations from those assumptions that are not necessarily true. But, for the most part, The Code doesn't change often.

And when it's tested, it always causes friction between myself and those who don't get what they want as a result of the code.

The parts of The Code which was tested last night was "Rumor" and "Source" and "Trust". Bascially,

(1) Rumor:
If an allogation, or the suggestion of a fact, is made of someone, the degree to which it is a REQUIREMENT that before believing it you check it out with the person it affects is directly related to how opposed it is to the established position of the individual. If you don't feel comfortable asking, then the rumor MUST be discarded without affirmation or denial because it's obviously too private.

(2) Source:
All things said are in confidence. The power of the words spoken to you is directly related to how much trust you have. Protect your source, they trusted you.

(3) Trust:
To earn trust is straightforward. To re-earn lost trust requires 3x as much effort and usually at the cost of another's trust. Choose not one over another, choose with another.

Someone (A) told me something about someone (B) that I didn't believe. I asked (B) and they became incensed and wanted to know who (A) was. I appologized for the upset, citing (1), and declined to inform, citing (2). (B) felt this was a violation of trust in them, and I believe I've lost some.

It's interesting how refusing to choose one over another usually cannot stay a lack of choice for long. This saddens me.

There's a game called Thief. It's an excellent game, had a fantastic sequel "Metal Age", and had another sequel "Deadly Shadows" that my computer can't play. Well, it can, but only if I don't like textures on my polygons. Which are sometimes overrated, but, not everything can be glossy red, as my video card drivers like to make for that game.

Anywho, the game makes reference to a group of people called The Keepers. There's a real theory about them, kind of like a benign Illuminati. They record all human events, and know the course of events so well that they can easily prophecise and predict what will happen. I've always been enchanted with that idea, so I like observing others and seeing where things go, to try and predict, on my own, how future will go.

So far?

I predict burritos of some kind.

Come on and get down with the sickness

Timeline: Monday evening I went home and collapsed into bed. My fever ran really really high.
Tuesday I'm unable to speak or swallow.

Now it's Wednesday.

Fun Things At The Doctor's Office:

1) There was a lizard sitting next to me. I shit you not. Evidently it scurried in and took a seat. We looked at each other, exchanged some hopefully meaningful discourse, but it didn't seem very talkative. It freaked out when I got up to do my paperwork, and didn't return.
2) I have these, um, marks.... on my body... *glare at someone who should know who she is* ("It wasn't me, bucko," Linda protests) and the doctor freaked out. Evidently bruises, as they heal, look a whole lot like a symptom of like liver failure or something. Hmm....
3) I got a shot of pennicillin. I felt like a World War 2 soldier. But, no, it wasn't an STD. Just strep throat. Honest. I always play safe, because... umm.... I don't remember why. But I just do. Oh, right. Because the weavils will come in the middle of the night and replace my vitamins with Tic Tacs, and my shaving cream with whipped cream, and will replace my toothpaste with hemerroid cream.

All hail the weavils.

Oh, and, uh... WHAT THE FUCK!?

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Letting Go

Ok, so who is Linda? She knows me from reading this. For the past couple of weeks. She's been asking to not be talked about here for some reason. Probably because of speaking of Diana and Su and some other more anonymous persons.

The reason why she's not off limits is because it's a very important happening in my life. You know I work in way way NE Miami, far far from SW. And, wouldn't you know it, she's there. So lets just say I've been having some interesting lunches.

I'm sick right now, but we're interesting together. I don't know if I can/should consider her a girlfriend, but, right now, things are ok.

Rawr.

New Rules

Hey, fellas. I've got some new rules in place.

1) Those who spit into the wind, even if they don't get hit, will get spit upon. I will see to this personally.

2) Um... I don't know. See, I just need three rules so it doesn't look like I'm being random in my rule-ness. Lets say... if you step on snails, you will now be slung over a pit of hot coals.

3) If you're Linda, I'm allowed to talk about you. I'm not going to keep you a secret.

That is all.

...

Oh, now you're DYING to know, huh?

Some things to do before you die

I can't take credit for these. Written by Dane Sherwood.

Things to do before you die:

Lean to juggle more than three balls
Pull quarters from someone's ear
Hang up on an unwanted caller
Spend a couple of days going to shows in London
Baby-sit
Plan the perfect crime and sell it to Hollywood as a screenplay
Compete on "Jeopardy"
Live primitively
Shed nonessentials
Be silent for a week
Follow the yellow brick road
Flaunt it


And here's one of my own:

Down 3 large sake plus 1 small one with someone. I'm still running high on it. I'm pleased my diet now allows me drinks, so long as they don't have added mixers and stuff.

Okonomiyaki Of The Day

YOU MUST FOLLOW THE LINK.

Now.

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