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LiveJournal for The Wanderer.
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| Saturday, February 23rd, 2002 |
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Meh, if anyone here want to get a hold of me, I think I'll leave AIM on in note-mode, and go lay down. Of course, certain people are more than welcome to just call and say 'Hello', as they like. Or, whatever else they want to say. I'm flexible. ::smirk:: Meanwhile, as I said; I'm gonna lay down for a bit, and listen to the Batman Returns, Hannibal, Moulin Rouge, Chrono Trigger, and Fight Club soundtracks on random-play. Yay. |
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Whoo. Long day o' walkin'. Work was all right; finally, an opening shift with Markus; the first since I got back from Portland. Despite his random bouts of being a completely unfeeling dickwad prick, I have to say I really enjoy those opening or closing shifts with just him-and-I. We chat, about sex, our lives, booze, women, men, etc., etc. Really, it's almost like having a grown-up Tyrell around. ... No one who reads that is ever allowed to let Tyrell know I said that, or even so much as thought that, on pain of immediate, unremorseful punishment from Your's Truly. After work, though, was the best part of the day, possibly my week thus far; instead of just high-tailing it home as I usually do, directly from work, I just kept walking on down, and around Lake Merced, the mid-sized body of water across the street from the dorms here. The lake itself is probably roughly the length of two football fields, nevermind the trails, bike-path, golf course, day-use park, etc., etc., that surround that. It's also been surprisingly well-preserved. The trails are traditionally rough-hewn from the dirt of the earth, where the idle walker or jogger (::shudder:: joggers...) has been wiling away their time, gazing at the quasi-majestic beauty of the tranquility that seems to be held far and away from the busyness of the city. Today, with the clouds anywhere but where I was, it was the classic 'Golden Afternoon' (as I put it in my journal); the sun, about 45 degrees from the horizon, streaming down over the lake, and through the trees, over the long, scruffy grass. Birds chirping, calling, and flitting about. Ducks going through their routines of landing, fishing, taking off, and eventually landing yet again. Just a really good, nice place; very reminiscent of the places my family used to go to on the weekends when I was a kid. Good. So, now, before they close the eating facility (ugh), I'm going to go run to get some food. What to listen to tonight?... |
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| Friday, February 22nd, 2002 |
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1) The Clash (I have some mp3s now, and, frankly, I'm not altogether too impressed. Ryan, help me out here; name some tracks, or something, and not Rock the Caspah) 2) Pink Floyd (namely The Wall, and Dark Side of the Moon, again) 3) Tool ('cause as long as they're alive, I'll never have enough ::grin::) 4) Bruce Springsteen 5) The Beatles 6) King Crimson (I feel bad having seen them in concert, and not having any idea what their music is like, as they were certainly far more than a mere opening-act for Tool) 7) Elvis Costello (Pump It Up just isn't enough for me) 8) Igor Stravinsky 9) Chuck Berry 10 George Gershwin (namely for Rhapsody in Blue) 11) Sarah McLachlin 12) Sheryl Crowe 13) Emerson, Lake, & Palmer 14) REM 15) Rage Against the Machine 16) (anything performed by) Glenn Gould 17) Tori Amos 18) U2 (I've only got a 'Best Of' album, and All That You Can't Leave Behind; damnit, that's justification for more) 19) Mazzy Star 20) Massive Attack 21) Pearl Jam (Ten, so I've heard, is the only good album they ever released, but I still haven't so much as heard Do The Evolution, much less have I ever seen the famed video, so damn it all, I need to go buy Yield) 22) Marilyn Manson (oh, shut up. You know what? I'm open enough with myself to admit that I've never really given the guy a real, honest listen, and to go find an $8.00 used copy of Smells Like Children, even if I end up selling it for something else on this list, wouldn't really kill me, and I'd be far more justified in the future for discrediting his work, I think) 23) Einstürzende Neubauten*. (Oh, I so butchered the spelling on that one, but the name sounds so intriguing, I have to hear their material) 24) The Yardbirds 25) Yes That's the first draft. I'll keep adding on to this as the months and years progress, to keep you posted on my progress, and for my own personal records. Feel free to make suggestions from time-to-time, with whatever you feel like, or recommend. If it sounds interesting enough, it'll make the list. Enjoy. 26) Bauhaus 27) Skinny Puppy 28) Portishead 29) Kraftwerk 30) Fiona Apple (Fiona Apple, Ryan? How the hell did that happen?) 31) Jane's Addiction 32) Charles Manson (the Chuck Manson, Ryan?) 33) Mindless Self Indulgence 34) Johnny Cash 35) Counting Crows 2/13/02 36) 37) Violent Femmes (got one, I dunno if I'll get much more) 38) 39) David Bowie 40) Nine Inch Nails ( 2/22/02 41) Smashing Pumpkins (once I learn a bit more, I guess. Dunno where to go from here. Mike, you wanna give me a hand with this one?) 42) Richard Strauss 43) Dream Theater (just out of morbid curiosity, to see if they've done something a bit more interesting than their last album, which I now have) |
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It's gray out today. It was a warm spring day this morning, I swear! Well, no bother; it's Friday, and that's what really matters. So, I picked up my new glasses today (though I'm still out a watch 'till the beginning of March; a week-and-a-half away). They look all right, but I've got to grow my hair out a bit more. See, since my hair is a lot shorter these days, it has a tendency to just kinda... spring out, in every direction, and due to the cut, that makes it look like this Max Headroom poof-thing, which I absolutely loathe. Now, since I've sat down at the computer and have thus calmed down a bit, it's laying flat again, so the whole face/hair combo looks okay, but... meh. The hair needs to grow again. I know, I know, A) I sound like a pussy going on and on about my hair style, and B) I can't seem to ever make up my mind about how long my hair oughta be, but, damnit, I'll figure it out, I swear. Julie; you remember the first time we went to the photo-booth at the Oceanside mall, and how my hair was then? That long. Just like that. ::shrug:: In due time, of course. Still, back to the main point, the glasses look good. Or, they will, anyway. I've been trying to open up a bit more lately. Well, to be more specific, I've been trying to learn more names of the people I see on a frequent-to-regular basis. As I've mentioned before, there's Ryan, down the hall. Johnathan, who lives in the room with me. Reyna, the RA for this floor. Will, the 48-ish guy in my swim class (I swear to God, folks, he looks eerily akin to Kyle; as in, 'fortysixandtwo' Kyle. Yeah, him. Reddish hair, beard, taller'n all fuck, the whole bit. But, his name's Will), along with Carl. They both suck at swimming, by-the-way. ::smirk:: Better divers, though. Shortcake, another RA, who's very friendly, and is the sole soul who faithfully calls out my name and says 'Hi' every time she sees me, anywhere. It gets a little weird, after the fifth or sixth time, admittedly. There's this kinda gypsy-lookin' gal in my History class, who was in last semester's History class, too. The only reason I can't remember her name at the moment, is because I don't think I can pronounce it. It starts with an 'A' sound, I know that much. Of course, the ass-sucking part of it is, I've already asked her for her name twice. Thrice, and I'll just look like a complete doof. The fact that she's a complete vixen is quickly and effectively espoused by the fact that she's happily taken. This is a goodness, as she is a really smart gal, and a history major, at that! Besides being eye-candy, it'd be nice to have her around as another history-and-Dr.-Germany-lover. Er, uhm... scratch that last part about Dr. Germany; 'appreciator'. There. A little less obsequious. Just got done talking to dad. A reasonably civil conversation, too. All business, of course; "Did you pick up the glasses?" "Call the dentist yet?" "What about Mike (the shrink)?" Etcetera, etcetera. A bit of new music today; finally picked up Nine Inch Nails' Broken; a cool $4.99. Yeah. Five bucks for a CD, and a reasonably popular one, at that. I love The Music Store. Uhm, as for my other purchase... Uhm... I'm a horrible, horrible little man. I'm now one amongst the Billy Corgan Bitch Army. Well, let's not go that far. Firstly, the album I bought was Adore, again for a cool $4.99 (I was mostly convinced by the price, honestly; it's very rare that one gets to test out a CD at home for only five bucks, without stealing it from a friend) . Admittedly, I've always kinda liked Ava Adore. So, yeah, I bought the album. I don't know if I'll ever buy another SP album; probably so, actually. But, eh, I'm not God-Told-Me-To sold on 'em, like I am, and forever will be, with Tool. ::grin:: Heh. I like my reflections of days past on AllRPG; the 'Back In The Day' thread. I dunno; I'm kinda surprised that I remembered as much as I did when I wrote all that out. Plus, all the changes that have come to that community just kinda... well, it's just funny to think of Ryan as just 'Abominari'; the Great 'Scary Mod', whom everyone feared, or at least accepted that they'd be run over by as if by a steamroller if they ever challenged, or not knowing Jenna and Kyle as I do now, or, hell, Abom and Mune dating. Me, being absolutely miniscule and unnoticed. Large Coke posting, period. ::chuckle:: To think, it all started back in April, for me, anyway. Seems like years, yet it's only been a matter of months, just barely creeping up on one year. And yet, in all that time, my girlfriend-turned-fiancé has joined up (and subsequently left), I've had some very personal confessions take place there, I've made some decidedly close ties to those whom I found kindred spirits in, I've certainly learned some interesting details about lives wholly divergent from mine, and, well, I've just plain had a good time with all the AllRPG folks. ::shrug:: LiveJournal's great, folks, but, when it comes to the crunch, it was AllRPG that got me really hooked on the internet, plain and simple. Well, that, and a fierce determination to whoop the shit up on that guy with the skinless-head-guy-for-an-avatar in the Insult Thread. ::grin:: Hrm. In terms of jobs, I'm dangerously tempted to invest some application-filling time at the Empire theater, down on West Portal. This would, of course, (if I got the job) entail that all my work would entail movies, of both past and present. I'm not sure whether that's infinitely cool (as I would, assumedly, get to watch the aforementioned presently-and-to-be-released films) or just pathetic. ::shrug:: Dunno. Still, it'd be a job, and at hours that I'm entirely used to spending awake, anyway. A thought, at the least. Plus, popcorn! Well, I think that's enough to compensate for three test entries in a row. If not, DEAL. ::cute smile:: |
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 Which Chess Piece Are You? |
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| Thursday, February 21st, 2002 |
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 Which My Little Pony Are You? |
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 A person's limbs and joints were shattered, then their now-mushy limbs were braided through your wheel-spokes. Still alive, they were left to die in this fashion, either from starvation or heat/cold. Oh, the humanity! What a temper -you- have! What torture would you be? |
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The following is a list of demands I'm making, as compensation for giving up the 'gift' and 'freedom' that is my bachelorhood, which I will be surrendering in full upon marrying Ms. Julie D. Macrorie. One may also read this as a List of Complaints against the management of the dormitories here, or at least the guy running my life (namely, Me). 1) First and foremost, the most important of all my conditions for this union between myself and Ms. Macrorie; a kind, loving, warm, semi-doting, beautiful, sexy, considerate wife who will unconditionally accept random tokens of affection (ranging from bouquets of star-gazers, to chocolates, to really good ice cream, to throwing oneself down on one's knees in the middle of the involved party's workplace, singing a particularly endearing song from the Moulin Rouge soundtrack), submit to being the light of one's existence, consistently allot her time to allow for one's unending love and adoration, unerringly agree and concur with any statements involving the aforementioned party being the prettiest girl in the whole of existence, and will forever more obey and proceed with the rules and conditions that apply to her being just that; her. No more, no less. Just her. 2) A bathroom that does not take full whole minutes to walk to from one's sleeping quarters, and is reserved specifically for myself, and Ms. Macrorie, with few exceptions to be made for the occassional guest. The aforementioned guest, however, has the right to rifle through our bathroom cupboards to see what kind of weird drugs we're taking. 3) A bed that is large enough for myself, and the aforementioned Ms. Macrorie, to rest comfortably in without constantly causing cramping/restlessness/awkward sleeping positions throughout the night. No squeeking would be a nice bonus, though negligible. 4) At least one night a week, I'm able to play my choice of music aloud in the bedroom. In return, I'll try not to hum along too much. No guarantees on singing, though. ::smirk:: 5) Sex. Period. Ever. I don't care if it's once a month, just so long as I get some more often than every two months. 6) Freedom to laugh aloud at any and nearly all things while there is company (i.e., anyone else, including the aforementioned Ms. Macrorie) in the house/apartment/etc., without feeling weird and dorky. 7) A refridgerator. With food in it. 8) At least one night a week where myself and Ms. Macrorie cook together. 9) A warm home to come to, every night. I don't care if it's empty when I get there, as long as it's warm, and comfortable to crash in. I can wait for company. ::smirk:: 10) Julie. Hell, the rest of that stuff doesn't really matter that much, in the long run (well, except for number one, obviously). I can live without 2-9. But, if we're going to do this, I want, nay, need her there, to live through it all with me. That's it, when it comes to the crunch. |
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| Wednesday, February 20th, 2002 |
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Ya' know, no one ever gave 'TheChronoTrigger' a fair chance. Everyone was so quick to assume I was referring to the game title, when in fact I was referring to the item in the game, and the likeness of said item, to myself, as a human being; the Chrono Trigger (that weird, yellowish egg thing that Gaspar gives to the remaining party members after Crono's untimely death) was said to be crafted of 'pure potential', meaning that it could manifest itself as anything, depending on the intention with which it was used. No one, I assume, bothered to think it through that far. Too 'high-concept' for the masses, I guess. ::shrug:: And it's true, damnit! So to everyone who thought that TCT was a cheap rip-off username, smeg off! |
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So, how're we all doin' folks? Ya' know, I was checking my friends list, and I realized I've got seventeen people on there! Honestly, I was kinda amazed. I've touched upon (however mildly, or shallowly) that many lives through the Great and Glorious LiveJournal/AllRPG community? Whoa. Hey, everybody; do me a huge, pretentious favor, huh? Everyone post something on this entry. Even the most immature, "You're a complete poser for doing this, you numb-skulled fool" comment will suffice. ... Okay, yeah, I'm giddy, and I've not the slightest clue why. I just got done writing a rather lengthy letter to Julie, so perhaps the pent-up need to express oneself that comes from holding still for forty minutes is burgeoning forth in a fountain of silliness. Or, perhaps I'm just talking out of my ass. Methinks the latter. ... And the girl does not cease to earn her marks as the one person in the universe whom, if I was not madly in love with, I'd spend a great deal of my time plotting their untimely demise. So, life is a little tense right now, honestly. I'm still job-hunting, and I really don't have that much time until I'm due for about three hundred dollars for March's rent. So far, I've got about forty or so to my name, though with a paycheck coming at the end of next week. I can survive just fine; but I don't know that I'll have anything close to three hundred by then. I'm not even entirely certain that's possible. But, I'll do my best, and see what happens. Dad said he'd cover whatever I couldn't for March, so that the next month would be my first full-on, complete-responsiblity payment. Admittedly, phew. School... Eh, it's going, as I've responded to others who've asked around here lately. Swimming, of course, is intensely enjoyable as ever. History is okay, too; I know exactly what's going on, and I never have to read the book, but it's a tad easy, and that means I don't have to really ever be challenged by it. Sociology, I'm just plain behind in, and I need to spend every moment I can this weekend reading the four chapters we've covered in the past few weeks so I'll be caught up for the test on Monday. Lastly, there's my Archaeology classes (which, since 'archaeology' is such an ungainly word to type, will from here out be denoted as 'Arch.'); 250, the one on Arch. of the Ancient World, I've never touched the text, which I really need to, and 450; I have a pretty good idea of where we're at, but there's still plenty of catch-up reading to be done, and we're starting a group project... well, yesterday, actually. At least the aforementioned project sounds pretty good, and the people I'm working with seem pretty steady and accountable. Got two of my parking tickets squared away today. The third one is 'pending review', since I got it while I had my semester permit displayed (though apparently I was in the wrong lot, a fact that was a complete mystery to me previous to being asigned the ticket). Also, I'm going to get a refund on the eighty-dollar permit itself in a few days. That'll be kinda nice, of course. The only real downside to the whole escapade today was that I had to walk up and down the entire stretch of the campus, and then back again. Not fun, but, as I keep telling myself, I'm going to be in really good shape by the end of the semester. And honestly, that just goes back to impressing my lover. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Like you've never thought of it. Sure, I like being a bit more fit than my naturally sedientary life provides for, and yeah, it does just feel good to be a bit more in shape than the rest of your peers, but let's face it, ladies and gents; we're all out to impress some illusory or real mate/sexual partner, and by pushing myself to the limits every day in some way or another, I enjoy the thought that I'm getting that much sexier and generally attractive for my mate. Lastly, in other news, I need to take my trash out. ::shrug:: Tomorrow, indeed. Oi, and work! Lovely. 'Night, all. |
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I got all three of these. Go figure.   |
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Hey, does this look familiar to any of you? If so, you know what I mean to re-learn, as I should have back in elementary school, when they first tried to indoctrinate me with it. |
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A YELLOW Dragon Lies Beneath!I took the Inner Dragon online quiz and found out I am a Yellow Dragon on the inside. My Inner Dragon is the most interesting of all. Yellows are the fourth rarest dragon of all (after Gold, Platinum and Chromatic dragons). They spend the vast majority of their time soaring high above the ground, often for no particular reason. They love to be in the air, and are thus typified as the Air Elemental dragon. All of the Elemental dragons are technically aligned "Chaotic Evil" but a Yellow is about as close as they come to being Neutral. So if you catch me being sweet, it's perfectly normal. But it might be a feint. I like to spend time in silent, aerial meditation and would only really attack someone if provoked. My favorable attributes are the sunrise, Spring, incense, clouds, and any kind of helpful air current. When it's needed, my breath weapon is pure bolts of Lightning. How's that for a neat piece of carry-on luggage? See you amongst the clouds! |
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| Tuesday, February 19th, 2002 |
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Meh, KaZaa finally died on me. Well, that, and I erased it from my hard drive today, 'cause it was being a pain-in-the-ass. Any recommendations, folks, on other 'file-sharing' software that Andrew can pirat-er, uhm, 'enjoy' for a relatively low introductory price (read; free)? Otherwise... Eh, she'll kill me for it later, I'm sure, but a long-awaited friend has finally joined up on LiveJournal. I'm quite elated at her arrival, as accessing her old online journal was getting irritating, and she's absolutely right; it indeed was far too girly for her. Props to her for finally making the switch. Last highlight of the evening; I'm going through every one of my Tool albums; from Opiate to Lateralus tonight. Dunno why; just felt like it. So far, I'm up to Eulogy. Coolness, thy name is a Night of Tool. |
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I love the Salival disc. ::chuckle:: Yeah, I'm feelin' better today. It all started with the exercise of will power that got me out of bed at 8:00 in the morning today. Since my swim class isn't 'till 9:30, I'm often hard-pressed to get up before 9, and just run out, grab a little bit of something for breakfast, and run on to class, looking and feeling like a bit of a schmuck. But, as much as I hate waking up early, I do enjoy the sensation and the sense of purpose in having arisen earlier than most would in my position. So, a good start to the day for me. Got out to the bank between classes (Archaeology 250, my first class after swimming, that usually starts about fifteen-twenty minutes after I get out of the locker room, was canceled today), and now I actually have some cash on my person, so I could actually get some coffee, too. That was also really, really good for my general attitude. And now... I still reek of chlorine, my eyes sting a little ('cause my goggles don't fit quite right, and I haven't had the time/energy/opportunity to run down to the Serramonte mall and exchange them, even if I could, which I highly doubt anyway), and I'm off to go back to the bank to discuss matters of recent over-drafts (that weren't my fault this time! Woo-hoo!), and my new address. Yay, me. En route, I shall listen to Tool, because I'm happy, and I've earned listening to Tool whilst walking in the rain. Kiss my ass. ::grabs fiancé, dips her over his knee and kisses her:: There. Now my day is complete. |
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Listening to Tool... Talking to Julie online (along with Pai, and Reynard, off AllRPG)... One knee under my chin, the other bent perpendicular to the latter, giving me a secure perch at my desk, as I live my sordid little night-life on the internet. Pathetic? Perhaps. But it's a life, of sorts. And, for now, it'll have to do. |
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| Monday, February 18th, 2002 |
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So, I've been for a walk, and had some time outside the room here to think, and get out of the "I've been dumped on my ass financially" funk that I was slowly sinking into this afternoon. ... And I thought I told myself that I wasn't going to listen to this album anymore, or at least for a little while? Eh, damnable folks across the hall listening to the same damnable album. That, and the album is catchy as all hell. So, there's this salsa dancing get-together at about 8 tonight. But... I'm tired; I don't feel getting up off my ass, though probably just because I just ate about four pounds of food (which actually didn't taste bad! I'm so sticking to salads from now on while I'm living here; the rest of the avaliable food-stuffs are just plain intolerable). So, what I think I'll do to help curb my urge for truancy is, I'll lay down, maybe get a brief nap in, and then go down, and scope it out. Who knows, I might actually learn to dance somewhat. ::shiver:: Creepy. |
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Yeah, so, as my last (real) update stated quite clearly, I'm completely on my own financially now. Yay. How'd it happen? Well, my assumption is that, due to the controversy surrounding the prior weekend's events, dad and Joan were left with the ultimate conclusion that the only way to really rectify this situation, or at least pull themselves out of the financial obligations that were resulting thereof, was to cut their financial ties with me, and leave me to figure this whole 'life' thing out on my own. I guess they figured this out on their own, since they sure didn't take the time to alert me to the notion; when dad showed up, and we started driving towards my work, he told me then that the car was going to be picked up at noon that same day. He'd already made the arrangements, the following day. There wasn't really anything to debate, then, it would seem; the whole weekend had been pretty much setup simply to process the decision, rather than talk it over. It wasn't so much that he had the car taken away that bothers me about this approach; it's that I wasn't really consulted in the least, and the arrangements were made completely behind my back. If one were to attempt to be adult about this (as I assume that's what Joan and my father are; adults), one would be tempted to believe they would at least give me a few days warning before the car was to be taken away. Meh, water under the bridge at this point. No more car trips, at any rate, until I manage to summon up the cash on my own to buy myself another one. I guess that kinda settles it, Ryan; we're taking your car, for certain. The rest of the weekend was just lame, period. Half-assed attempts at getting the two of us to try to see eye-to-eye on whether or not Julie and I should get married as soon as we've thus planned for (September, somewhat immediately after Julie's birthday). Obviously, in light of past posts on this journal, I've been having my own misgivings about that date as it is, so having to listen to him go on and on about stuff I've already heard running through my own brain a week before is just plain... lame. Sunday, we spent conversing about more light-hearted affair, but that undertone was still there, and I hate his badly-placed allusions to earlier, deeper conversations; how he segues from a good conversation about a topic him and I agree on, into a point he'd been trying to make with me earlier, that I clearly didn't agree with him, seemingly under the impression that if I agree with one, that the connection he makes will somehow swing me to agree with him on a different arguement. But, he's gone now, and I have plenty to do; I've got to find some way to consistently find an extra $400 each month 'till May. After that... I just need to figure out what I'm going to do, period (summer and fall of '02, the following year or so, etc.). Yay. ... Am I honestly doing this all for love? If so... damn. I am one helluva guy. ::smirk:: At least I've still got my sense of humor, and that's the important thing, for me, right now. Led Zeppelin seems really fitting, too, for all of this. Just fits my over-all attitude and 'grit' at the moment. Maybe I'll make some friends this week. Something to try, anyway. Oh, yeah; dad wants to come back in a month to try to 'finish our conversation', whatever the hell that means. Kill me now, God. |
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| Sunday, February 17th, 2002 |
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 What Pattern Are You? Let's just lump 'em all together, eh, folks?
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A lot. ::shrug:: Not a lot of choice in the matter, though. So, how's the weekend with dad going thus far? Well, I'm not going into a full update right now, but in brief; 1) I'm financially on my own for the rest of my life now. 2) My car is gone. 3) I've clearly made no progress in getting dad to see at least some value in Julie and I's relationship, much less marriage. However, unlike in past episodes, I don't really fuckin' care anymore. I want me to get married to Julie, not him. If he doesn't like her, or her-and-I, that's just not going to be part of the equation, then, of her and I getting married, when it happens. He's being reasonable, though. We're going to spend some time together tomorrow getting to know eachother a bit, and he leaves at 6, apparently. So, we'll see how it goes. I miss my baby, and I'd do nearly anything to get a back-rub and a long, long winter's nap with her. ... And I'm hungry. |
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LiveJournal for The Wanderer.
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tired.
content.
accomplished.
mischievous.
quixotic.
curious.
melancholy.
hungry.