House of Neddin: Part III

Dear Diary,

Once again, my girl has been gone for two days, and not called me. She called me at 3pm on Saturday (an hour after I woke up), and asked me to go to her neice's birthday party while we were starting a LAN party. I had thought that it was going to start (the birthday party) much later, so that's why I had made plans to help setup the LAN.

At least she was understanding about me waking up late on a Saturday this time. Last time that happened, well, go back and read the diary. You prolly know what happened. Heh.

I was inCREDibly late to work today. Like 2 3/4 hours. As usual, no one noticed.

The reason I'm trying so hard to get a hold of my girlfriend and stuff is so she'll have a job. Which is necesary, because I don't think I'm going to pay her rent for her again this time. Because she's starting down a track of destruction. She's abusing me, yet relying on me for survival. All for the sake of feelings.

I guess she's the only one who's feelings can be considered in this relationship. But it's important to remember, I'm not bitter. Just venting. Grr.

Actually, today should be a GREAT day. Check out this email I got in my box this morning. It rules:

Just wanted to let you know that I think your diary kicks ass. Thanks, )O( Akira

Hee hee. I kick ass.

Plus I had to deal with our proxy server being down this morning. I'm hearing from my co-workers that if I keep dealing with issues that are for SST's (supervisory positions in my dept), I'm precariously perched on receiving a promotion, and a token salary increase.

Hrmm. Well, from the bored look on the faces of all you people staring at your screens, you probably tire of my current boring life and long to hear the latest installment of my exiting life at the House of Neddin'.

---

November '98

This installment isn't quite as exciting. But don't worry, we're about 2 months in the story from getting some real action, so to speak.

I guess what I'll do today is introduce you to as many people as I can ... Let's pretend it's Friday, children, and we'll all go to one of my house's drinking parties.

This is before I used to work at home. That comes in two months. So we'll hafta begin sometime around 6:00pm or so. That's because although I only live about 5 minutes, literally, away from where I work, I was turning into such a workaholic, that I stayed there for hours after work. But let's just assume that today I came home at 6:00pm.

Well, let's see, oh, big surprise, Travis is just now waking up from his current napping place, the couch!! How fabulous, yes it's true, the deadbeat doesn't have a job.

I met Travis when I was in 9th grade, in Sunday school class at the church I ended up going to after we left our Methodist church. It was a good church. But anyways, he was one of the first people to greet me.

Travis is by definition, a redneck. There's just no other way to describe him. I, by definition, am not a redneck. I don't know how he and I got along, but whatever. He was good at fixing cars, welding, not cleaning up, making messes, and cooking. Oh, and losing jobs. His favorite beer: Budweiser.

He had a job when he moved in, but lost it within two weeks. He got another job, but lost it too. He finally got a job that paid enough to pay rent, and then moved out. Since he gave me the washer and dryer that worked like sh!t, he thought that the bills had been paid.

Total cost for knowing Travis: $1500.

Ok, so Travis is just now getting up. "Hey Travis, how are you doing? We drinkin tonight? Oh course we are? Ok, cool."

"By the way, did Jeff call?" I might ask.

Jeff is my brother (figuratively). I've known him since about ninth grade too, he fostered me thru high school, don't know how I made it with him, don't know how I woulda made it without him. Know how that goes? He was my best bud. His interests were including in-line skating, computers/internet, girls, dating, and girls. He was about as tall as me (6'something), and had dyed, bleached blonde hair. His favorite beer: Zima.

He used to give me all sorts of useless advice on how to act on dates, what few dates I had in high school, and how to get the chicks. I s'pose it worked for me about as good as it worked for him, but I never realized how bad we both were at it until much after high school.

Jeff was usually the "Beer Hootchie" as we liked to affectionately call him. He was the main man over 21. Dewey, the other non-minor, rarely bought beer, for some reason. Jeff had an unusual quirk. You know how people get when they're drunk, it doesn't matter what age you are. I was probably the only sheltered young'in who didn't know what a drunk or a druggie looked like when I was at those younger ages. They get all crazy, lose inhibitions, etc. Well, Jeff never did these things, didn't matter how much he drank. But he beer buzz began on the way to the liquor store. He'd act all crazy beforehand, and then just drink and be all normal Jeff. Just something funny we'd used to tease him about.

Ryan was his brother. I'd also known him for about the same amount of time. Jeff and Ryan also attended the same church I went to. Ryan now is doing webdesign for a firm I used to work for. But at this point, he was still in high school. He used to get drunk with the crew all the time. He's like a shorter version of his brother. He enjoyed being on the computer, making ameteur movies, picking on people and mechanics. (Jeff and Ryan were not rednecks) His favorite beer: Zima.

Okay, so its about 6:30, and Courtney's boyfriend, Big Nate, was about to make it over. He was over at the house so much he was just about a resident, but he never paid rent, and we never made him. He was the one who looked like Goldberg. He usually brought his childhood buddy Larry over with him.

Big Nate rules. An interesting story about him.

I don't know how many of you actually follow wrestling, or as I like to say, wrasslin', but in the WCW, and the other leagues he was in before that, Goldberg held an undefeated title. I'm not going to go into the story surrounding the defeat of Goldberg, but when Kevin Nash defeated him thru some bunk methods (he used a stun gun, or more acurately, his partner did) in what was supposed to be a 1 on 1 match for the title. Well, when that happenned, Big Nate, a 6' monster who could pass for Goldberg cried. Kinda funny.

We didn't tease him much about it though.

Big Nate like working at his camp that he worked at (maintenance), having sex with Courtney, weightlifting, drinking beer, and raising hell like a redneck. He was from a small town out side the small town of Tyler. His favorite beer: Miller Light or Budweiser.

When Big Nate came over, sometimes he came over with some Budweiser from work, and some preliminary drinking started. Then Dewey would come home.

Dewey is a real cool dude. Crazy though. He's basically the clown of the group, overshadowing everyone else's clown tendencies, because, well, he's Dewey. I've known him since I was in high school, right around 9th grade. We used to go on mission trips all the time in high school, but Dewey, I think, wants to be a real deal missionary. He's been on numbers of trips to South America. He really gets off on that. Either that or doing mechanical work. Dewey's strange quirks (and he has millions of them. Dewey, himself, is a strange quirk) include owning many many non-functional cars. Mostly Impalas. And Honda CRX's. And motorcycles. His favorite beer: Whatever everyone else is drinking.

Larry, by the way, at this point in the story doesn't have a personality. He never said much. He just kinda sat around, quietly. He was really shy until we got to know him, so I'll introduce him at a later time. But don't wory, he comes into the story in a bigger way later on. He and Big Nate are the ones who named the house. But I get ahead of myself.

Mike and Rebecca would usually be making their ways over here pretty soon, followed shortly thereafter by Mike's brother Mark, who was two years younger, and looked like a spittin' image of him. Rebecca is one of the finest looking girls in the world (one of them, one of them. My girlfriend's prettier ;-). Rebecca and Mike were always arguing. They were each other's first time, and they'd been together since high school. It was such a sickeningly romantic thing. "Kinda makes you wanna cry, doesn't it?" [nod to Brak]. But they always stuck together. Which was cool, because in that hound of jackals, we always told Mike whenever they broke up, we'd be the first guys on the hot pursuit of Becky. We even took numbers on who would go first. It would rotate by the week. ;-) Jackals, we were.

Becky was a girly girl, she had the funniest southern drawl, and wasn't the brightest bulb in the pack. But she was cool, and she'd always drink with us. And sometimes she'd get REALLY wasted. There was one time she got so drunk off some wine cooler and a bottle of champaigne that she was actually on the floor sliding around under people's chairs. Not the thing to do on a bachelor pad's floor. Her favorite beer: Zima, Wine Coolers, Bacardi Breezers.

Mike was cool dude. He was going to school and working at Montgomery Wards. He's going to Texas A&M now, I think. He was a mechanic guy too. Most of these guys that I say are mechanics, all have their cars tricked out to race, or are working on cars to do so. Drag race. Funny thing was I could usually get my old Delta '88 to do close to the same thing, stock. It pissed 'em off. ;-) Mike liked mechanics, Rebecca, and partying. His favorite beer: Zima or Budweiser.

Mark, Mike's brother was pretty cool. He didn't always come over. He had his own girlfriend that didn't always like our parties and stuff. But he had a tricked out Corvette that was pretty cool. His favorite beer: Budweiser (noticing a trend here?).

I think that's everyone except Courtney, who usually came in late (it's about 10:00pm now, everyone has poured in, the beer has been flowing for about an hour and things are underway), because she was a waitress at a Mexican restaurant down the road. That circle of friends she had there touched my past and future circle of friends that lead me down the bad road. But that comes much later.

But she'd come home and immediately start berating Big Nate for drinking so much, and then proceed to drink herself silly on hard liquor or beer. I'm not sure what her interests were, well, let me think back. I guess, girly things, the Backstreet Boys, N*Sync, MTV, VH1, Big Nate, and talking about us needing to clean up the house.

And then there was me. I didn't drink.., alcohol. Usually I just drank Jolt that was leftover from the punk shows that Jeff, Ryan and I put on.

We'd play all kinds of drinking games, go out on the front yard and drink like rednecks, go in the back and drink, be so loud that the cops would get called. Usually, though, the cops would just get called because of the parking situation. Tickets all around! Woohoo! It was crazy that we never got busted for MIP since everyone was always drunk talking to the cops and stuff. Ohwell.

But there you go, that's a more formal introduction to everyone in the house at the time. And it takes you a month closer to where all the sh!t starts going down, which I think starts in December or January. Stay tuned.

---

Jeez that took me a long time to write. I started that around 10:00am or so today, and I just now got done with it, it's around 2:00pm.

I still can't get a hold of my girl to tell her to bring her frickin' applicatoin in.. I went ahead and turned my roomate Crackbaby's app in. He's going to be hooked up with a job on my team (Team Wank) here soon, now. Working on getting Phitt up here, and then the whole team will be wankin', er workin here.

I'm hungry though, and I've worked thru my lunch. Doh.

I hate it when I do that.

/rizzn

Quote of the Entry: "Far better it is to dare mighty things, to win glorious triumphs, even though checkered by failure, than to rank with those poor spirits who neither suffer much nor enjoy much because they live in the gray twilight that knows neither victory nor defeat."

- Some Cheesey Bastich.

House of Neddin: Part II

Dear Diary...

Back again today. Boredom and regret for taking this shift are setting in. Skunk_Girl just went offline, so I guess it's time to turn to the productive, or some reasonable fascimile thereof, and continue with my story.

BTW, folks, I want you to know I'm never ever switching to night shift. This just plain sucks. I wanna talk to my g/f, or go home, or get drunk or play video games or something, and I'm stuck talking to losers like me that are working past beddy-bye time on the fones.

At any rate ...

---

I know it's been a pretty boring story up to now, but I just had to set it up for you. That was by no means an inexhaustable definition of the house nor the characters in it, but it was just enough to give you an idea.

BTW, another boring fact about the house. For 2200 SQ ft., the rent was only $425 a month. Sweet deal, right? Almost want to make you move to Tyler, teeming metropolis of 80,000 people. Trust me, don't. ANYways.

I may want to re-iterate, for those who don't know, that back in those days I was still sXe (translation: straight edge) as well as an ardent Christian. I'm still the latter, just not the former. I was also a virgin, never had a drop to drink, although I had been known to smoke a pipe every once in a while. Just so you know. After all, I AM the star of this show. ("We're ALL stars. At the Dope Show").

The first month there was pretty much uneventful. Which is odd considering. This house, it seems, attracts attention. I had been to that house once before I moved into it, when I just happened to have been there one New Year's Eve when a friend of Jeff's who owned the house had a party there.

First month was uneventful. I don't remember much going on except me pining over my long lost girlfriend. I was so gone for her, I didn't even start to look at girls for another 2 months after that. Which is crazy, because I lived with a girl. I don't know how many of you have lived with an attractive member of the opposite sex that you weren't going out with before, but you see them in just about every state of undress, and this chick was living in a bachelor pad, and none of us seemed to have any attraction to her. I guess we all had our own reasons.

The second month I lived there was a slightly different story.

There I was one night, after a hard days work of typing on the computer a bunch and fixing network issues, watching Celebrity Deathmatch, and I hear a banging on the door.

*BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG*

"Come in, the door's open, bud," said Rizzn, expecting one of his friends.

No answer.

"Um, who is it?"

Muffled answer.

"OK, Hold on, I'm getting up."

Ok. Nothing much can prepare you for what I saw next. I open the door and there's this guy in a S.W.A.T. uniform holding a semi-automatic rifle. I'm thinking "Ok, whatever you got me for I didn't do. OH wait, the guns not pointed at me calm down, breathe."

"Sir," he says, "You need to leave your house now."

"Uhh," I dumbfoundedly reply, "may I ask why?"

"There's this guy, your next door neighbor, who has a high powered semi-automatic rifle threatening suicide, with a possible hostage situation. We are evacuating everyone in a 100-yard radius."

Uhh, oh-kay. The cop asked me if there was anyone else in the house at the time, and there wasn't, just Danny's band practicing in his half of the basement. So I blew out the candles and put on a coat and walked behind the S.W.A.T. van for safety.

Meanwhile, Danny is down in the basement, auditioning a new drummer for his band, and they are about to kick it up with their rousing rendition of "Don't Fear the Reaper", when they hear a knock on the door. We for months afterward joked that if the cop had been five minutes later evacuating us, and Danny had started up with his song, the night probably woulda never gone the way it did.

If I remember correctly, this was a Friday night. Which meant it was drinking night. (Back in the day, I wasn't even tempted when drinking night came along. I just hung out with the drunks, it was fun.)

So the band, Kathy, and Me were sitting behind the S.W.A.T. van for protection when my roommates and friends started pulling up with alcohol for the festivities. It's also important to remember that on drinking night, none of the participants save Dewey and Jeff, my home-boy from highschool, were of legal age.

So up the minors pull with alcohol. We stayed outside talking and making fun of Sydney Harris, or as we grew to affectionately call the bugger that night, Psycho-Syd.

Danny told us the story about "Don't Fear the Reaper." And he also told us how that little house Psycho-Syd was in was cursed. He told us: "Before this night is through, that house's windows are going to be broken out."

It seems every year in October, or sometimes September, the windows get broken out. One year, a bunch of kids around Halloween broke all the windows. Another year, there was a huge meth-lab in the house that got raided. And in '98, the festivities were provided by Psycho-Syd.

At one point one of the SWAT guys ran up to me and asked me if he could shoot out the streetlight above my window. I aggressively agreed. There was a 1000 watt streetlight attached to the side of my house perched right over the window behind my bed making it impossible to sleep. Or rather making it difficult. It was by learning to sleep with 1000 watts shining in my eyes that I became NARCOLEPSY man, the guy who can sleep under any circumstances.

They shot out the window, and went up to the second floor in Danny's room to see if they had a good vantage point to snuff out poor Psycho-Syds seemingly pointless existence.

But, one by one we got tired of waiting around outside, and one by one we snuck back in the house when the S.W.A.T. wasn't looking until about at 3:00. Then the party was on. We all piled up in my room, which had the best vantage point of the action, watched the news crews and SLEWS of cops crouched around this guy's house. And the Papa John's crews.. (Can you believe that the S.W.A.T. ordered Papa John's that night? Delivered right to the van!)

Drinkin beer, watchin hostage situations.

As the night went on, hearing the shoutings between the cops and Pyscho-Syd, and catching the up to the minute reports off of MSNBC by the local NBC affiliate, I was able to gather that Sydney had just broken up with his girlfriend and gotten fired in the same day, came home, and took to drinking. With his faithful high powered semi-automatic rifle.

His friends came over, were, well, concerned, and called the cops, and left.

The climax of the night was when the sh!t hit the fan. I was on my computer getting an update, Courtney, Michael, Travis, Jeff, Ryan, Dewey, and Larry were sitting on and around my futon, which was now turned to face the window. Danny and Kathy were trying to sleep.

All of a sudden, I guess the cops were ready to go home. The busted out all the windows, tear-gassed the house, and out comes Psycho-Syd, preceeded by his hostage. His anklebiter dog.

That was the bit of drama that happenned early on in the house. I remember not too long ago recounting incidents like this that happened on a regular basis each month, althought they escape my mind right now.

But our house was like a little MTV show. You know. They always have those mixed co-ed groups living in a house? All we needed were cameras. (Which we eventually got. Another story. Another time.)

---

But more on that tomorrow, it's near the end of my shift and I'm ready to get drunk. This has been such a get drunk week. Sooo much stress. I think I'm going to either turn alcoholic or workaholic. I just found out I don't totally wretch every time I drink vodka anymore, so I'm going to help myself to some of that tonight and see how it goes.

Sigh.

I guess that means over and out.

/rizzn

Quote of the Entry: (another chat log exerpt)

Crackbaby: I'm talking to a NetAdmin right now.

Crackbaby: his user name is phloughphie

Crackbaby: can you guess the pronounciation?>

Rizzn: hell no

Crackbaby: fluffy.

Rizzn: lol

Rizzn: *wonders what nationality that is*

Crackbaby: gay.

Rizzn: Heh

House of Neddin: Part I

Dear Diary...

Regardless of what you may think of my current life, my life over the last 2 years has been absoluetely crazy, and it's just now settling down, and I guess I should be reveling in that fact.

My girlfriend and I went to a goth club last night.. The Church. I've never been, but I know infinite amounts of people who go there, both from my hometown and from big D.

I actually broached the subject of whether or not she still meant what she said Monday night about backing off, and she still does. However, her actions haven't really changed. Which makes me scared it's her feelings.

She told me she has always had a problem in relationships, where she gets bored and loses interest, even when she doesn't want to. I'm torn in my head between showing all the affection and passion I can to show that 'flames' can be re-kindled or whatever, or playing hard-to-get in hopes she may think she's losing something and try harder or something.

So I dunno. I'm trying not to think about... hadda get that crap off me chest.

But I was talking with skunk_girl yesterday about how far I've come this year. And she said I ought to put it in the diary. Which would probably make for good story and good ratings or whatever. So I'm going to post it up bit by bit, because it's a long assed story. It gets really personal, and a bunch of you guys will probably have less of a bit of respect for me after the story is done because I did some bad things, bad choices really. But I'm going to put it up here anyways.

---

It really all started when I moved out. The excitement anyways. When I moved out of my parents house. My parents and I have what I would say would be an excellent relationship. At the time I was working at a local ISP for my hometown. I had been working there since they started in the biz. I absolutely loved my job.

I was going out with a girl at the time I moved out. Her nick I think was Z.., so we'll call her that. Z.. and I were both very strong Christians, and it was one of the weirdest relationships I've ever been in. It was one of the best, though. She was my first real kiss, first one true love. I think we had been going out for about 5 months. She was the reason I was moving out, so I could spend more time with her. It was her suggestion.

She was one of the reasons. The other reason was that my relationship with my parents had been rapidly deteriorating, because on top of me being a workaholic at the time (for fun, I would go to work. I enjoyed my job that much), I spent any other excess time with my girl.

Well, about that time, she had gone back to college, about 2 hours away from where we lived. And sure enough, the very weekend I got moved into my house, she decided that it was time to break up. Just be friends.

I had been ready to pop the question to this girl a few days earlier, or at least start looking at rings or something. It's always when I decide to completely devote myself to a girl when they drop the bomb.

It was a sad day. I went over to her house. She said "We need to talk." It was so cliche from the beginning of that encounter. Like I told her I loved her and she didn't say anything back. Absofricklutely retarded. That's always your first sign. We need to talk is the second sign of the apocolypse. Maybe a missed kiss, or the way she looks at you with that sad look. They know they are about to break your heart. And they do it anyway.

She was the kind of girl that goes from relationship to relationship. Which seems to be the only kind of girl I can seem to attract. The only kind.

But at anyrate, it took me about 3 months to get over her, in which that time I took to settle into my new house. I barely spoke with her over this time... and this going from a relationship where when she was in town, we'd go on a date every night, then talk in her room for hours, then go home and chat on the internet for hours until we crashed.

When she was away, we'd chat for hours when we were supposed to be doing other things. Like sleeping, class or working.

But anyways, I didn't speak with her hardly at all. That was a rule I made up. Let's not talk with each other for a month. If we can't absolutely stand it, then we need to get back together.

I keep digressing. Eergh. Well, let me introduce you to my house, take you on the tour, and show you who lives here.

My house (another thing of pride and joy to me), was an old thing, built in the '30's, original wiring. The company that made the fuses went out of business in the great depression.

It was a split level, the upstairs belonged to Danny and Kathy, downstairs belonged to me, and my roommates Dewey, and Travis. It was all hardwood floors, big livingroom, kitchet, diningroom, 1 bath on the floor level, 2 bedrooms, and plus we had a basement. All in all, about 2200 square feet. We turned the basement into two more bedrooms, one a bunk bedroom, the other a regular bedroom/gameroom.

Travis really wasn't supposed to live there. In order for Dewey and I to live there, we had to clean up the house and rennovate it. Big investment. All in all, I put about 3k into it. Building the bunk downstairs, the bar upstairs, painting, taking up the carpet, polishing the floors.

Dewey is a crazy guy. I mean utterly nuts. Not a drug user, didn't fubar his mind that way. He's just ... Dewey. He has these things called Deweyisms. He'll just come up with a random word or use a word some way its never intended to be used, and pretty soon everyone is saying it. Mostly because it's so off the wall that it's funny as hell.

Dewey and I were the original intended inhabitants. But then he invited Travis to come live with us, which was a mistake. For some reason he invited someone who was known never to be responsible nor pay rent to come live in our house. And the whole time he lived there he never paid me rent, except with one rubber check. Which turns out to bite me on the ass about 2 years later, but I'll be coming to that in a long while.

Travis is a loser. Travis is cool to hang out with, but not live with. Travis is good at fixing things and cooking, but is an absolute slob. I'm not saying that I'm any kind of clean freak, and I'm sure that if any of my RL friends read that line, they'll laugh at how true it is, but Travis put me to shame.

When Travis decided to move in, he invited another friend we all knew, a girl from church (which is where we all met, BTW), named Courtney, to live with us. She was just getting out of a bad relationship, and personally, I think Travis was looking to score. But Courtney almost immediately met a guy that everyone from the clan back then remembers as Big Nate.

Nathan was cool. He was about as tall as me (I'm 6'4"), and he looked like Bill Goldberg (the wrasslin' dude from the WCW). And he was a huge wrasslin' fan.

And those were the original players in the game. The original members of what became known as the 'House of Neddin'.

(The name House of Neddin comes from an ICP song. Neddin is a euphimism for sex. I would normally explain where the name came from, but I'm going to go into enough detail about this story that it'll become quite apparent).

All this took place in about September of 1998.

---

Well, now that I've introduced everyone and gave you the run down of the house, I'm going to close out this portion so that I'll actually have something posted up today. I'm here till 9:00 pm today, so look for further updates tonight. (I switched shifts with Phillip because he had to go pick up Cure tickets tonight).

/rizzn

Quote of the Entry: (from chat log today)

Phitt: I was thinking about going into the midget slavery business

Rizzn: hmm

Rizzn: good career move

Tonne Fun Bun Son Gun Run

Well, g'mornin diary. And a g'mornin it is.

Yes, better spirits for the Riz-boy this morning. I wish someone would get off their cel fone in the office because it interferes with everyeone's headfones, and it's quite annoying. But not as annoying as this call I'm about to pick up will be I'm sure.

Anyways, things with the Girl are going better. I was invited to stay with her at her house last night. She is not feeling as depressed it seems. Which is good, if she's not depressed, I'm not depressed.

But we still need to clear the air about our discussion about taking steps back that we had this Monday. It's not eating me alive like it was before because I'm pretending in my mind it didn't happen (which is what she may be doing -- but I don't think so), but this is not healthy, it needs to be dealt with on level heads. I don't think that either of our heads were level Monday.

I am unbelievably tired. And it's not even lunch yet. Usually I don't take my nap at work until after 3 or so. And it really sux cuz I've got to run all over town today on lunch.

I'm about ready to crash. This sux.

Oh, forgot to tell you yesterday. I am supposed to have won $1000. Some scratch off card they stuck on my door at my house yesterday morning. I'm thinking of getting a scratch off lotto ticket with that kinda luck.

I know it's a Bad Idea to have my girlfriend working in the same department as me, but I'm trying to get her a job as she may be losing her job due to illness where she's at now. I'm trying harder to keep her job there than get her a job here. I just think it would be a blow to her confidence if she interviewed here and didn't get the job... although I'm quite confident she'd get it.

She has absolutely no confidence in her technical abilities, even though she is smart as a ... thing that's really smart. I was going to put smart as a tack, but that never made sense to me, what's the difference from being as smart as a tack, or dumb as a doornail? Are tacks really that much more intelligent than a doornail?

But back to the point, I wish she'd have more confidence in her abilities. Sure, she might be a bit inferior in job experience and skills to me, but most everyone is. (BTW, that's not a boast, I've just been a computer nerd all my life, so for someone to have more skills than me is someone who has logged some SERIOUS nerd time on a computer) She's the smartest computer chick I know personally, and I wish she'd realize that.

Anyway, i need to sleep or work or both, so I'm signing out for now, diary.

/rizzn

Quote of the Entry: "Here's a food I never ate simply because of it's name: Sauteed Bull Testicles."

- Uncle Bob

Great Debates of All Time, Part XXIV: Great Taste or Less Filling?

Dear Diary...

Reality is holding out on us. She promised some juicy stuff at lunch time and what time is it? it's like way after lunch. hooboy. wots up wid dat? ;-)

Anyways... went and had lunch with the Girl today. She's feeling much better, kissed me, told me she loved me. I think she's trying to forget it. I'm torn now between asking her to discuss it and clear the air or forget about it.

Oh well, it's not bothering me much, so I think I'll let it slide for now. Bring it up in a couple weeks if an answer is not obvious or discussed.

I'm running out of quote for the entries. Using them faster than I find them. In fact, I'm using my last one today so I guess I better get crackin' for some more.

Be witty, people! (So I don't have to be and I can just quote you!)

Smoke time .. brb

---

30 Minutes Later

---

Wow, long smoke break. Told people the story abuot the time I got witnessed to by a pentacostal chick up here. We got into a mild theological discussion. It was kinda fun. It's interesting to see how people who have no theological training or background nor any religious beliefs claim to have such far reaching knowledge of Christian theology.

Other people were looking at us funny. Guess religion isn't something people talk about at work much.

The discussion was quite civil. Frank was cool about it, because I was rippin' on that brand of pentacostals, and he grew up as one. Erin was quite ignorant of theology, for a smart person. She bases more of her knowledge on experience, than fact. Phil didn't say much.

Anyways. I'm still in the process of trying too hookup my roommate Phitt and Kim. This should prove interesting.

My girlfriend's telephone number is 'temporarily disconnected'. And I've got to get a message to her about keeping her job. Eeesh... suckage.

Ohwell, I'm out till I have more to say.

/rizzn

Quote of the Day: "Make my plans as one big joke and work towards the punchline. On... uh... the world I guess. And the best part is, the world doesn't even GET IT! It's like a fuckin' episode of FULL HOUSE!!!"

- akaifailure

Over the Top and stuff

Dear Diary.

I've been cheating on you. Not really, but I did actually handwrite a note that was meant only for myself to read last night, so I hope you aren't mad.. ;-)

But to make it up to you, diary, I'm going to write the entry I handwrote in here last night. Excuse it's cheeseyness.

---

I've decided that I must be really really depressed if I am handwriting a note that I intend only to be read by meself.

I just got done watching some cool animes about some dudes who are part-time florists and part-time assasins. And about this boy ninja in the 20th century. Phitt got them from work.

But directly to the point -- I am missing my girl so much. I feel like we broke up. I wonder if the damage to the relationship can still be repaired.

I'm different in my approach to relationships. I look at each one as if it were my last, not even considering the possibility of breakup.

It's how I've always been. Why would anyone want to be different than that?

Its an ego-centric thing of me to say, but I cannot concieve in my mind a different apporoach to dating.

Some people will express love with ulterior motives (i.e. to get someone 'in the sac'), some will say it because their spouse or significant other say it. others still say it out of habit and some will say it out of shame.

I am completely different. I don't say it because of a warm fuzzy I feel, nor because of obligation. I say it only when I'm sure of the impolications and the committment behind the words "I love you" can be fully comprehended, calculated, and backed up by my actions.

Words mean things, and love is not an emotion, but a committment.

But this is turning into nothing more than a treatise on what my positioin on love is.

Back to the point, if there is such... I miss her. So much that it hurts, and I do mean physically.

Not to turn this into an exercise in cheesiness, but I really do miss her that much.

I don't know why I do this to myself. Girls are the reason I [get depressed]. The only reason. Girls are the reason and only reason I 've turned my emotions off in the past.

It's the same story everytime. Five months or maybe a little longer of pure bliss for me, something snaps in the girl and she breaks it off.

I see the problem clearly now. Only because I just wrote it down, and it's happenned enough times for it to be called a pattern. Habitual even.

But I thought that it was only guys who were afraid of committmeent?!

Damn the 20th century and the liberated woman! Who gave them the fscking right to be as assholish and prickish and selfcentered as the traditional American male.

I guess that I belong in a backward culture where guys can still be chivalrous and women aren't allowed to be afraid of committment to a guy who worships the ground they walk on.

But after the girl breaks it off due to the fear of committment, as tradition goes, either a) she comes crawling back in a most unseemly fashion, or b) she dies.

Literally. I've a history littered with the girlfriends that gain 50 pounds after breaking up, die in car accidents, or in 2 cases, contract lukemia.

But the ones who survive/and or come crawling back manage to contact mue just as I am getting over them, which is generally a three month process of its own.

That is the problem with fully extending your heart to those who are merely human. Whilst God never breaks my heart, women seldom seem to pass up the opportunity.

---

I'm not even going to type in the next part because I read it and it's way to fscking cheesey. I'm actually embarrassed at what I wrote so far, but pretty much it's all how I feel, in a melodramatic sort of way.

I'll probably write more later. Just wanted to get that typed in this morning and see if was over the top, after having a night's sleep on it.

/rizzn

"Further up and Further in!!"

Dear Diary...

Me again. You know me. Rizzn. Y'know? sheesh, why you bein like that. Is it about me handwriting an entry last night? You know you is the only diary for me.

heheh

silliness.

Anyways, I talked to my dad a few minutes ago. Thank goodness his office has a toll free number.

Anyways, as I may have mentioned before, my dad's a shrink, so I talked to him about my problems, and my girlfriends problems, and it was very encouraging. He didn't say a whole lot more than I didn't know, but sometimes it's not what you say, but how you say it. He has a gift like that.

munch munch on 99cent Jack in the Box.

ever notice how 99cent cusine tastes better than any other kind of food? maybe that's just me, but the best food in the world is a meal of 99cent whoppers. When some of the locations started charging more for them, it just killed it for me.

Oh, whoops, I forgot to pick some stuff up while I was out to lunch, I'm going to have to take an extended cig break I guess at 4.

Once again, my girl is unreachable by fone. But I'm letting it slide. I'm not gonna be bothered by it. She wants her space, and if she loses her job and another job opportunity because of it, maybe that's the price she'll have to pay. I'm tired of doing everything for everybody.

I'm sorry, dear voyeurs of my diary, that you have to hear about my sorry state of love-life affairs for these past few days, I'm sure it's getting boring. Rizzn, move on, you say. We want your witty banter and colorful commentary. Well, I'm handling this better than I expected, so you may expect to see more of it sooner rather than later.

I made a decision that I'll have to break it off (the relationship), if things don't seriously seriously change in 2 weeks time. Crackbaby and I taLked about it last night. I know taking advice about women from my peers is a bad idea, (I mean look where it got me in high school), but he told me something that made sense.

Y'see I live by a code, that I don't tell anyone about just because I hope the way I live my life makes it evident. In my life I put God first, others second, and myself last. I'm sure this has been helpful and beneficial in ways that I cannot see to others around me, but it sure has gotten me into trouble.

Without creating a huge book to describe my last chapter of my life, the short run down was this method, carried to extreme, left me penniless, homeless, and broken spirited about a year ago. Ever since then, my boy crackbaby and I made a pact that if we ever see each other sliding in a bad direction or giving too much, or anything bad like that, we will call each other on it.

Crackbaby said that just in the last couple months, maybe three months he started to see me come back out of my shell, which is about right. This is about the time I started to live again, and give my heart piece by piece away to people I thought I could trust, including my girlfriend.

He told me he would kick my ass to hell and back if I let that same situation happen again, where I go into that much of a shell over a girl.

He told me that living your life for others is good, but in this situation with my girl, I need to think about what's best for Rizzn here. If staying with her is going to cause me undue pain and torment, or she starts to take advantage of me, I need to end it this time, and not wait for the devestation.

So keep your ears to the ground, Diary. I'll keep you updated on what I decide to do with my girl. And what she decides to do with me.

And yes, I'm feeling in enough good spirits to include a quote for the entry. Sorry I was depriving you of that I know you enjoy it.

/rizzn

Quote of the Entry: "So, in case you're wondering, my cough is now productive. I am a veritable snot geyser. "

- lisamcc