92 lines
12 KiB
HTML
92 lines
12 KiB
HTML
<!doctype html>
|
|
<html>
|
|
<head>
|
|
<title>Zk | Tha ta-ra-ra-ra ta-ra-ra-ra ta-ra-ra-ra do! Chum gheeeeeeeeee... do! Ha teeeeeeeeee... do! (fire!)</title>
|
|
<link rel="stylesheet" href="https://fonts.googleapis.com/css2?family=Gentium+Plus:ital,wght@0,400;0,700;1,400;1,700&family=Lato&family=Ubuntu+Monodisplay=swap" />
|
|
<link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="/style.css" />
|
|
<meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width" />
|
|
<meta charset="utf-8" />
|
|
</head>
|
|
<body>
|
|
<main>
|
|
<header>
|
|
<h1>Zk | Tha ta-ra-ra-ra ta-ra-ra-ra ta-ra-ra-ra do! Chum gheeeeeeeeee... do! Ha teeeeeeeeee... do! (fire!)</h1>
|
|
</header>
|
|
<article class="content">
|
|
<p><span class="tag">diary</span> <span class="tag">livejournal</span> <span class="tag">fossils</span></p>
|
|
<p>I now exist in the state of returnedness!</p>
|
|
<p>While I was away, I wrote in my Big Black Book (BBB), which I normally use for stories, but I wasn’t willing to open my Little Black Book. I must remember to burn that over spring break.</p>
|
|
<details text="A Quick One While You Were Away..."><summary>A Quick One While You Were Away...</summary>NB: <u>SiaSL</u> = <u>Stranger in a Strange Land</u>, <u>SoJ</u> = <u>Sins of Jesus</u>.
|
|
<strong><u>Arizona</u></strong>
|
|
<strong>03-13-04</strong>
|
|
We arrived today via plane at around 3:45. My dad was pissed, I could tell. We ended up having to wait for the shuttle bus to take us to your rental car, and he was so angry at having to wait that he called customer service to complain. This anger continued through the drive from Phoenix to Tucson - most of which I did - as road rage: everything from people going too slow to people going too fast (though not much of that, Arizona seems to be a state of going the speed limit - my kind of place).
|
|
|
|
During all of this, I mostly tried to stay focused on other things, such as the scenery, and the strange coincidence that the two DJs on one of the radio stations were Mike and Craven Moorhead, both of which are Moondog's nicknames.
|
|
|
|
We arrived at grandma's at about 6:20; the first thing out of her mouth was a complaint about the rain. I can't understand such things, considering we've been in a drought for the past six or so years. Eventually, however, we made it inside (which never seems to change) where my dad remained pissed, ranting about the quality of the A/C installation, since the roof was leaking around the pipes. He and grandma commiserated about Aunt Sue, a budding hypochondriac, Apparently, Sue bought a house down here and had a reaction to the mold. Ever since, she's gotten steadily worse about every little thing, driving even unflappable grandma nuts. It sounds a little OCDish to me; kind of like what Kathy did with Chelsea.
|
|
|
|
After grandma tried to push food on us and failed, she went to bed and we went for a light dinner at Chuy's. What looked from the outside to be a goofy family restaurant turned out to be a sort of college hang-out, goofy bartenders, glaring colors, food served on paper plates. My dad drank while I goofed around with little plastic toys from the vending machines. Afterwards, we came home and watched a show about 'burbian Americans living with a family in Guyana, done in silly reality show style. I should've read <u>SiaSL</u> instead.
|
|
|
|
Grandma asked if I had a girlfriend, and I felt compelled to tell her the truth (because, I guess, I could for once), I told her yes, that her name was Wendy. I realized, perhaps too late, the implications of this: it's the first person outside of my open-minded group of friends that I've told about Moondog, and I'm not sure how I feel about it. It's not that I'm ashamed of her (what a silly thought), it's that I feel awkward with the question, as if I'm conceding to heterosexuality, even if I'm decidedly gay. I guess a good deal of my anxiety arises not from my relationship itself, but from the fact that it's not the norm for me, as well as the fact that it's the first I've been able to discuss (not in-depth, mind you) with most people and not be afraid of a homophobic response.
|
|
|
|
<strong>03-14-04</strong>
|
|
The rattle in my chest is still there and atop it, a feverish feeling. The latter might just be the heat, but I'm worried about the former: I have secret fears of emphysema, hopefully this is not the case (I feel like Keats). If not for school, I'd have seen a doctor when Breakfast Fox suggested. Perhaps I'll have time Tuesday, or after school some time this week, I don't want to wait until spring break.
|
|
|
|
This morning, I awoke at around 7:30, but got up at around 8. Grandma cooked us breakfast while we watched Sunday Morning. We talked the morning away before we decided to drive out to see my cousin Stacy, her boyfriend, and uncle Bob. They were packing to sell the house in which Sue had her alleged reaction. After briefly pining over a flute and piccolo Sue was going to give away (because, you know, mold grows in silver flutes), my dad and I headed off to see a Rockies spring training game.
|
|
|
|
While driving there, I had quite a strong nostalgic moment reminiscing back to my time with Shanerak. Un a way, I suppose I really miss those times, the ones when we were together. I remembered our camping trip with Ty, and how, when he drove, the back seats of his van were down and either Ty or myself was lounged on an air mattress back there. I remember being so tired one day that I ended up napping with him until his dad showed up, and I was scared that I had outed him to his father. I remembered our brief sexual encounter and how uncomfortable I got - enough to the point where I decided to just forget about it afterwards, reclaim my virginity.
|
|
|
|
Those things are over now, though, and it's for the best I suppose. I still love him, but more as a brother, a good friend. We tried twice to be more before reality snipped the thread of hope of our being together. I have Moondog now, and it's for the best I suppose.
|
|
|
|
After the hot, though otherwise uneventful game, we stopped by the store for Bisquik, beer, and eggs - more breakfast tomorrow - returning home to grandma and (great) aunt Lou. Everyone got tipsy but me, and there was much rejoicing as we descended upon ribs with beans and potato salad.
|
|
|
|
We decided on movies for the night, and ended up getting Dreamcatcher, Wrong Turn, Whale Rider, and Secondhand Lions. Blockbuster didn't have Mystic River, grandma was sorely pissed. We watched Wrong Turn (odd, but predictable) and Dreamcatcher (quite odd, unpredictable, even scary) tonight. I'm off to bed now, here's hoping I feel better tomorrow.
|
|
|
|
<strong>03-15-04</strong>
|
|
The little croup of last night passed a while after I lay down, thankfully, and there was only a little bit of coughing today. This was fortunate, as a coughing fit while going 75 down a desert highway would've probably frightened my dad.
|
|
|
|
We headed down to Nogales today - the supposed paradise border-town of my dad's college days has apparently transformed. Where once were onyx chess sets, there are now trinkets with little MADE IN CHINA stickers; where once skilled artisans plied shoppers with the fruits of their trade, now stand pharmacies. Pharmacies! Pharmacy after pharmacy hocking cheap drugs to the hypochondriacs/druggies wandering the streets.
|
|
|
|
As we passed the entry point, we were immediately hit by the noise. Men, women, and children offered us everything from Chiclets to "professional women." We made our way to what looked to be the cleanest and busiest restaurant where we had a fairly good meal. As I ate my tasty tacos, I realized just how salty we like our food, not just in Colorado, but America in general. After that was an uneventful excursion deeper into town before we left.
|
|
|
|
By the time we arrived back at grandma's, Stacy and her boyfriend, Mark, were already there, along with aunt Lou, who, along with grandma, quickly polished off a bottle of vodka and started another. There was a brief squabble over what kind of wine I liked (I don't really know, other than that Les Heretiques stuff, and the Fre stuff, I'm not sure I even like the rest, but out of the few we had, I liked the Chianti best - go figure) before we got to cooking. I nearly passed out with a brief case of food poisoning that was quickly resolved by laying down.
|
|
|
|
There was much conversation, but eventually that diminished with departures until only my dad and I were left with a sleeping grandma. We watched Secondhand Lions, I read a bit, and here I am, having finished another glass of wine. I got a little buzz last night when, after all retired, I tried iced tea and vodka. My inherited addictive personality kicked in, and I found myself craving more. Frightened, I quickly admonished myself and went to bed. I must admit, though, that I am enjoying the warm, fuzzy feeling this wine is giving me. Must be careful.
|
|
|
|
I'm stuck on the deity question again. The more I learn in biology, or any of my classes for that matter, the more I see the helping hand of some benign influence. Thus, I've been reading <u>SoJ</u> again. It's odd, I'm in a situation where <em>becoming</em> a Christian, or a follower of just about any religion, is nigh on unacceptable, whereas, in most cases, the opposite seems to be true. My heritage protects me, though: I must analyze religion and myself further before I act; the curse of the engineer.
|
|
|
|
PS: we return tomorrow.
|
|
|
|
<strong>03-16-04</strong>
|
|
I woke up early several times - I haven't been sleeping well lately - before I actually had to get up. After that, it was weak coffee and goodbyes: the time of our departure had come.
|
|
|
|
Travel proved to be a little awkward, but otherwise uneventful. The awkwardness, both physically and socially, had mostly to do with my dad. Due to his waking of me being rather abrupt, I was quite out of it most of the day; apparently enough that I packed my bag half asleep, and it nearly didn't fit beneath the seat in front of me. AS far as socially, I sort of got the feeling (wasn't up to starting the empathy engine) that my dad was afraid of/for me. Ah well.
|
|
|
|
After driving to Phoenix from Tucson (we saw a car of immigrants run off the road and into a fence, where 5 people jumped out and started sprinting into the desert, followed closely by two police officers with guns drawn), flying to Denver, driving to Lakewood, then to Boulder, I was getting zonked, so I traded in my punch-card for a large mocha at Cafe Sole, searched for (and failed to find) the Sci-Am I wanted, and pushed on home. While I was a way, a check for $15.99, business reply mail, and my Rider-Waite deck arrived (finally).
|
|
|
|
Struck with a sudden urge, I donned my humbler pentacle, grabbed the check, and walked to the bank to deposit it. That done, I walked back, but as I reached Dartmouth, I decided to keep going straight to explore my own little mini-forest (must show Floofo before it's fenced off).
|
|
|
|
While I was there, I began work on a formal wand. It's about as long as from my shoulder to my wrist and it's quite smooth. I anointed it with water from a deep stream (as well as my crossdamned foot), dirt from nearby, and reiki while I waited for my sock and shoe to dry some. After I walked home barefoot, I anointed it with fire and more reiki. All that remains is air and spirit, the hardest to do, before a final reiki and claiming it as mine. After that, I shall make an altar.
|
|
|
|
I need to seek out my Discordian roots again and incorporate them somehow. Also, I must think more on deities, <u>SoJ</u>, <u>SiaSL</u>, Dan Simmons' books, and empathy. A to-do list.
|
|
|
|
Now that I've written this by hand, I shall retype it all. Instead of doing math or Latin.
|
|
|
|
|
|
</details>
|
|
<p>It’s amazing how pretentious I get when writing on paper</p>
|
|
</article>
|
|
<footer>
|
|
<p>Page generated on 2004-03-16 18:41:52</p>
|
|
</footer>
|
|
</main>
|
|
<script type="text/javascript">
|
|
document.querySelectorAll('.tag').forEach(tag => {
|
|
let text = tag.innerText;
|
|
tag.innerText = '';
|
|
tag.innerHTML = `<a href="/tags.html#${text}">${text}</a>`;
|
|
});
|
|
</script>
|
|
</body>
|
|
</html>
|