December 2000 1 2 3 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 12/1/00 Whee. December. My mother has a problem, she talks to herself way too much. What grates on me right now is that she was going through her drawers and bitching about Christmas lights and how she hates Christmas and I kept thinking, "Become a fucking Jew and be miserable with eight candles". It also rubs me the wrong way when she yells at Katie for being lovey or for going on the couch when that fag cat Rocco is more destructive to the furniture than Ben or Kate. Been a while since I've bitched, whined, muttered about my mother. So while coming home yesterday I noticed that there are a heck of a lot of buildings that have been demolished in the past month. There was this oil company in the center of town that was abandoned for years and they recently started tearing it down. One town over they tore down half of a building that used to be a framing and art supply store. Up the road from the latter demolition site is an antiques store in a rickety building next door to my father's best friend's house. I never knew how rickety it was until I went in there one time with Kinja. The floor was warped and the slightest step (even for folks without my girth) would start the shelves tinkling and shaking from the vibrations. I heard that the upstairs was condemned and nobody was allowed up there. I reckon when the antiques store finally collapses on itself it'll be a sad day because it's been there forever. Just don't know why the hell they let it go to pot. The Christmas season has begun and I'm certain it's only a matter of days before I get my hackles up over the TV stations saying "Happy Hannukah" or "Happy Holidays" but never once daring to wish anyone a Merry Christmas. Dopes grow up "oppressed" by Christmas, get themselves into a position of power then decide to turn it around on people. It only breeds resentment. Not much longer until my birthday anyway. One more thing regarding my mother and this is awful strange. She always emails me at my real email address. Today I have two emails from her in spivaks@hotmail.com which I didn't expect. They're forwarded stuff but still I groaned at the fact that my mother might've found out that I had a web page and looked through it. Not that I care, just it'd be tiresome to hear bullshit (if any) about my site and blah blah blah. After logging out earlier, I got Chinese food, ate it in my room and went to sleep. I was really cranky for some reason. I dreamt a bit of what I did the night before when I was at my father's barbershop until four a.m. working and after I had quit for the night because I was worn down and loopy I went outside and stood in the street for the longest time staring down the road. The lights were shining on the damp asphalt and I felt powerful and alone. Dream shifted a bit and I dreamt about eating and how I was constantly drinking two liter bottles of Coke. Interesting bit is that when I'd drink it'd be just like a gerbil water bottle except I'd wrap my lips around the end of the bottle and suck really hard to no avail. Most of the time I'd be struggling to get air in the bottle so I could get a huge mouthful of Coke, get thirsty and do it again. When I woke up I was glad that I had an unopened bottle of Dr. Pepper but it wasn't as satisfying and lacked the fun bit of sucking at the bottle. I think there was more to my dream but if there is it faded about a half hour ago when I woke up, went to the can and did the daily run around Johto for berries and apricorns. I haven't been playing Pokemon much but I will post what I have and their stats, maybe later tomorrow night I'll finally name most of them. Ugh, yesterday I thought I had to fart and trusting soul that I am I decided to just let it go and I ended up leaving a present. Now I'm all gun-shy about breaking wind. For December, I have planned that I will not touch myself for the entire month, I will do ten push ups a day until the fourteenth when I will start doing twenty push ups a day. Plus I have to remember to get the only two presents I will purchase online and go Christmas shopping sometime before my birthday. I'm doing the push ups in hopes of reversing any atrophy that might've set in for all the time I've spent online and I've been pleasantly surprised (I think I'm repeating myself) that I can do ten push ups without touching the floor but I'm usually three or four inches above the ground. My arms are bent a lot though. Regarding touching myself, I want to see if this will give me more energy and the ability to focus elsewhere. Plus it really hasn't been that satisfying lately. Oh yes, the things I will be purchasing from online will be coal and switches. I'll be getting Malyss a few switches and Devotchka a big lump of coal. 12/2/00 Got up early, read in bed until it was almost eleven or so, went upstairs and fired up the laptop to get some graphic stuff done and I did all the while the Supreme Court droned on in the background. Come three thirty, everything was completed to my satisfaction so I closed up and took care of one or two things. I'm going to decorate the house today, the only things I might have to purchase are gutter hooks for the lights. Stringing lights along the edge of the house will be rough this year because my father already decorated the bushes (ladder over the bushes seems to be a no-no in my estimation) and the lights strung around the walk and driveway might get underfoot too. Now I'm going to get food, go to bed and read myself to sleep. G'night. 12/3/00 Not enough lights to decorate the house correctly. Fucking hell. I hope that there's enough stuff to decorate my father's business tomorrow. At worst, with his business, I'll just have to buy more garland to string along the ceiling. I bought a few long multicolored strings because the last time I decorated it was pretty spare in the light department. Whole strings were duds or would only light halfway. I'm so angry right now at the state of the house. Sure the lights are strung along the gutters (had to cannibalize a whole string to get it right) and there's the stuff that my father did earlier in the week but I don't think there's anyway I can put lights on the bushes in the backyard or along the street. Did I mention last year that the sidestreet we live next to is dark throughout December? It's troOoOOoo. I'll be stringing lights along our new bushes between us and our neighbor who has this crazy idea that she owns those bushes that we purchased put in on our property. We have the paperwork to prove that we're right and paperwork showing that her back porch is violating the building code since it's less than ten feet from the property line. I want to put lights there to antagonize her, and she's Jewish too which will be extra fun. Today wasn't anything great, I read, I checked the web, strung up lights, raised my blood pressure and now my diary. Lastly, right now it seems that Devotchka won't be able to make it here for New Year's because she has plans which she might not be able to weasel out from. I'll guest tonight or email her to get the final word so I can reschedule and everything. Right now I have this feeling where I want to be in two places at once but it's not really possible. I know one of you also has this feeling. Here's my current roundup of pokemon. Gastly, level 21 hypnosis night shade curse mean look Phanpy, level 20 tackle growl defense curl flail Crobat, level 31 wing attack fly bite confuse ray Quagsire, level 32 water gun rock smash ice punch surf Blackie, umbreon, level 33 cut confuse ray quick attack pursuit Smokey, typhlosion, level 38 ember quick attack swift flame wheel That's my current roundup, I'll be trying to level up gastly and phanpy soon so they evolve. Maybe later I'll try levelling up another team that I have in mind which is made up of a machop, lapras, espeon (or girafarig), aerodactyl (traded from red/blue) and the lickitung I caught a few minutes ago whom I named "Frenchy". ehhehe. 12/5/00 I have missed updating for the first time in quite a while. Was busy Sunday night decorating my father's business. Everyone likes how it looks which is really great. What I am about to write is not spivak bemoaning being a victim. It's just a realization and a really interesting analogy. I understand how molested little kids feel when they're told not to tell anyone anything because if they do tell then there will be trouble. Back when I was seeing Kinja and there were "issues" between us because of baggage someone has or because of how someone acts with disregard for someone else and those issues were dealt with during protracted discussions in parking lots which always left me in tears and Kinja furious. My father, my sister and my therapist noticed how I wasn't feeling my best and I did turn to my father for assistance sometimes and my sister at other times because the turmoil inside of me was too great. In retrospect, in my opinion and their opinions, they say that I was abused. Interesting thing is that this reminded me of what Kinja would say to me, "Don't talk to anyone about this." I'm not here to bemoan victimization or whine at length because I know I am still alive, that I am strong, that fear had passed through me and what was left was myself. Her intentions on having me not talk about stuff with other folks was her wanting privacy. Okay. I remember filtering that as shame for fighting with me. Anyway, that was what I worked out in the past few days. No, I wasn't obsessing on it. Just hit me out of the blue and tonight was the night where I mentioned it to my therapist. I feel good. I need a way to control my anxiety which gets away from me at times and causes me to fret and twist my beard like a drunken dwarf. The relaxation techniques my therapist showed me weren't really that helpful and I'm thinking about getting a heavy bag to beat on which Tim has suggested to me from time immemorial. I know I can't take that kind of energy and use it to fuel productive work because when I'm anxious I get single minded about understanding the root of my anxiety and conquering it so I can move onward with my life and be productive. It's MUCH later now, nearly four thirty and I just got off the phone with Devotchka. We were talking for quite a bit (thank goodness for phone cards) and I was cut off! Grrrr. Of course there was the big warning BEEP but then it stopped in the middle and I didn't even get a chance to finish saying a proper good night to her. I'll just pass that along in email. Tomorrow I shall endeavor to post stuff from a diary notebook from ages ago. Most likely a dream and the day after a diary entry. 12/6/00 A dream from 1992. I was having the best dream. First I was being chased by an invisible minotaur who sometimes became visible like this (small graphic that looks like the astrological symbol of Taurus) only six miles across. The maze was a rickety wood structure with stairs. I ran over it hundreds of times then I took a different turn. I was on the set of Star Trek:TNG and a girl really caught my eye but wouldn't go near me but still polite. For some reason I was blindfolded and the girl dug me (she was really hot). We kissed then the blindfold disappeared and it was her and we just sat on the floor being lovey-duby and very happy when she got a phone call. I remember Worf gave us a dirty look and growled but that's all. She hung up and stated that she crossed countless deserts, climbed the highest mountains and braved the oceans to be with me. I was really embarassed and hid myself between her breasts. It really felt very embarassing! After her speech she got up and led me by the hand to a turbo lift that sped into a backyard. "I was going to visit my friend RR" For some reason we were in a barbershop then it shifted to a room where a broken red rapidograph lay on the floor. She left as I talked to RR on the phone who became increasingly faint and distant in voice and attitude. (I have no idea who RR is, I don't recally any friends who have comic book initials) 2 older guys came in and I hid, then I got a 7up and went outside to a garden party where my praents and grandparents were. The chick wasn't out there and I got nervous. We watched films of a tiger breathing flames at a car and a place that looked like the LA riots aftermath and a burned out car dealership where black kids were stealing cars with $3500 CHEAP written on the windshields. I tried to check the plates out of curiosity and when the film turned a corner I was in it. The car I was in turned a corner and I was in a decrepit black seaport that I've been in before in my dreams (I don't remember this now) I call it Hoboken but I know I'm wrong. Then I'm running again and my dick feels like it sucked into me. On the dark side is a gray guy muttering something about "If he's dead, I don' wanna run into him" and yammered incoherently. I turned the corner, ran past a deer that wasn't there before. No time, gotta run. Ran past people. For some reason I wanted the minotaur to kill me and eat me but I still ran. Then I woke up. It was the best because I thought it was real (the girl) and I was happy. Fuck, I was happy. Now I feel like shit. It was so real. I should've tried the trick in Nightmare on Elm Street and grabbed her out of my dream. Um. Well, that was okay. The only thing I remembered about that dream was the minotaur bit but everything else faded from my memory. Wow, I just saw how old that entry is looking on the next page and seeing that I wrote a copyright for a comic book anthology title I made up. The next page of the diary is a hateful rant against illustration majors and folks who get work doing comics because they can draw buxom cartoon women who are anatomically incorrect. A few pages after it is a list of little poem type objects I created. Here are two: I ran out of toilet paper and thought of you. Dead. In a field in a cloud of flies. Shit, you got huge tits. The kind I like to squeeze. To lift up when you turn old making butter and cheese. And two pictures from my notebooks. Long time ago I had a thing for squids. I still think they're pretty keen though but hardly ravening like I was back in the day, by cracky. The werecactus was just a silly idea that never got past the above sketch. Gotta love that humor though! If you can't make out the letter balloons on the big image, he's saying "Christ, I'm horny. Where's the can? I gots to jerk off" and "Hi honey, what's your sign? I'm a feces". He became the werecactus when he was being chased through the desert outside of the Trinity site, he tripped and fell on a radioactive cactus then he was bit by a werecoyote. The lycanthropic spit and the radioactive plant material mingled up in his body and he became the werecactus. Okay, I'll post more stuff tomorrow. Remember Pearl Harbor In observance of the bombing of Pearl Harbor I will not be playing Pokemon and I will do my best not to think about pokemon, movesets and capturing the best pokemon to make into a competitive team which could hold up against other folks if I ever link up with them for a colosseum game. I do know that I have to catch a few more gastlies and compare their stats then raise the gastly by taking him/her through the area below Blackthorn City and put it up against wild gravellers which have a tendency to use selfdestruct. I had high hopes for Wednesday but I ended up getting nothing done in the end. Did some food shopping and wondered what the hell I'm going to get Brian for his birthday. I already know what I'm getting Tim. The only other presents I will get are for my folks (no idea) and my sister (help!). Next Tuesday is my birthday. I think I'll subtly remind my father of that and how it coincides with gaming night. No, I don't think anyone at the game would know my birthday anyway. Brian doesn't remember my birthday, he always pushes it a month forward and Tim is just... Tim. He couldn't remember how to get home if he didn't do it a hundred times. The fact that he gets lost going to new places despite verbose directions has made me start calling him Ryoga under my breath. When I got up this morning I had a panicky feeling which was probably carried over from the night before. Plus I've been muttering "good boy" to myself which is a striking change from the strange tourettes of nigger, fuck, shit, cock, etc.. Okay, I don't actually say etcetera. Maybe I'll get up early tomorrow and be productive. If I get the rest of the Christmas lights up in the tree out front and the bushes on the side then I'll have a feeling of accomplishment. Watched the Dune miniseries on Sunday and all that kinda stuff and it was alright. The entire production felt like it was meant for theater rather than TV or the big screen, sometimes I was distracted by the backdrops which underscored the fact that there were no location shots. The acting was good and the story didn't diverge from the novel but the one problem I had was the fact some of the things were not explained. Why would it be bad if some converted Water of Life was spilled into an enormous pre-spice mass? Things like that. Sure, I know that water would cause the spice mass to blow since water is poisonous to worms and the spice is simply larval or pre-larval wormstuff. Some scenes were rushed but lots of time was spent on other scenes as a payoff but I can't say that those scenes were interesting enough to have in the spotlight for so long. The entire miniseries didn't have a dense feel to it which I would expect of a miniseries and the only miniseries I've ever gone out of my way to watch was Shogun back in the seventies when I was a wee spivak. I finished The Wild Shore by Kim Stanley Robinson and I liked it. From the time that the novel from San Diego was introduced into the story (An American Around the World) I knew it was complete fiction but a necessary fiction. Just as they gathered together to hear the stories of the protagonist/author, the tale seemed to get sillier and sillier with hydrofoil chases much like James Bond and attacks by giant sea turtles in the Caribbean. The story was about a young man growing up in a post-apocalyptic California. Russia funded a terrorist attack of hundreds of vans containing a single neutron bomb being driven into the centers of American cities then detonated. Once the fires had stopped, Russia declared America a no man's land for a hundred years. To the north of Onofre, the center of activity in the novel, is Catalina which is a waystation for non-Americans to visit America, tour the ruins and take home souvenirs. South of Onofre is San Diego which is run by a mayor who may or may not have contacted the American resistance hiding in various places like Cheyenne Mountain and Mt. Rushmore. Hank, the protagonist, wants to see the world and ends up going to visit San Diego only to return with a head full of ideas which infect his friends in Onofre. The group hears about a landing of some Japanese tourists and tells the folks in San Diego about the midnight landing on the beaches to the north. Reality sets in and Hank finally understands that living in the small community is best for him and that it isn't America's time to take back what rightfully belonged to America. I'm feeling fine, just sometimes I long for things, other times I get impatient and at the very least I get angry at myself for being impatient. Nothing wrong with it and I shouldn't feel bad about it. That's it for this entry. G'nite. 12/8/00 Last night was one of odd but brief dreams. My story in the dream was the fact I was heading up to my father's old high school one town over to do work very late at night because I wanted no company from anyone except ghosts. I don't remember what I would do on the computer while I was there but I'd always approach the leftmost door and go inside where I would make a left into the cafeteria to sit down and start working. There was this one night where I went up there and when I opened the door I discovered that there was a light on in the cafeteria. Also whenever I would pull on the leftmost door I would fear that it would be locked and I would have to go back home. In the cafeteria were my colleagues from the college newspaper. The former editor in chief was there and was actually happy to see me, which was strange, and the former managing editor didn't seem to notice that I was there. I don't rightly know where the whole idea of ghosts came into the dream because none appeared. There was a strange feeling, a happy scary kind of feeling throughout the dream, which I couldn't shake and it drove me to continue through the dream. Maybe it was my IRL anxiety leaking through the dream and the happy feeling was coming from being more secure mentally than I have been in a while. The house is now completely lit. I put a ring of lights around the loose stone patio by the pond. The lights on the bushes along the side street are set up along with the lights on the new bushes between us and our neighbor. Happy day! I bought replacement light strings for my bedroom since a few of the purple lights I had strung around my room earlier this year have burned out. I hope Target has gotten a new supply because the selection recently has been piss poor. At least tonight they had almost everything I wanted except for replacement C9 white light bulbs which I need since I'll be changing the broken bulbs the week of Christmas. I can't believe that some already burned out. Only three out of seventy five though, thank goodness. Oh yeah, while decorating the house I was spooked by a bunny who got spooked because I got too near his little hideout when plugging an extention cord in by the pond. Silly bunny. Sometimes I wish we had a fenced in yard so Ben and Kate could run around all the time instead of only going out on the leash. We don't have much of a yard but anything would be best. 12/9/00 My sister just told me a story that smells like an urban legend but so far most of the facts seem to be checking out online. She was sitting next to a DJ for KISS FM on the train coming home from her job in NYC and heard that a few days after Otis Redding recorded "Sittin' on the Dock of the Bay" he died in a plane crash when it hit a lake. The kicker is that he was found still in his pilot's chair strapped in on a dock. So far, I've read that he did indeed die in a plane crash at Lake Monoma in Wisconsin but the whole "found sitting in his seat on a dock" seems spurious at the moment but I'm still searching google with "otis redding" "plane crash" and maybe something will come up stating this is an urban legend or it truly happened. He died on December 10th, 1967. Was busy today, typing in band write-ups for Project B and emailing the photographer for more pictures. I thought I had asked for more pictures than I received the first time around, I figure it was just misinterpreted. Next time, I won't be so kind. Fucking annoying that I was going online for the first time in a few hours and suddenly my mother needs to receive a fax that never fucking comes. Hellfire! Shitfuck! I wanted to catch up my day on Lambda with Devo but nooOooOOo had to log off and half watched River of Souls while half playing pokemon (raising baby pokemon). Tomorrow is certain to be a joyous day. At least I'm riled up to face it head on and not put up with any fucking bullshit. Earlier today I learned that eccentrix.com no longer has FTP service which means that my page is going to be more irritating to update especially around the end of the month when I have atomz.com scour my entire site and update the search database. There are at least forty five fucking pages on this site. Plus there was something mentioned about linking pictures from another site is verboten. If the little moon phase .gif is unusable, I'll just pack up and thunder off elsewhere. Where to? I dunno. I definitely need to get a domain (I have one in mind) and find a place to have it hosted so I don't have to worry about this bullshit of ads and not being able to FTP, etcetera. While going through my four old notebooks I found an old assignment from my Inquiry and Research class where I had to go out and poll people. It ended up being really cool despite my reluctance to interact with other human beings and the fact I couldn't think of an idea until the last minute. The idea was to make up a questionnaire that started out with READ DIRECTIONS FIRST and have only three questions that were pertinent to the study, the others were throwaway questions. My hypothesis is that folks never read instructions and just barrelled ahead anyway. After doing this to thirty five people, I found out that 85% just didn't read directions and 35% of that 85% would actually ask for a new questionnaire because they realized halfway through that they screwed up. The questions were: Have you ever been part of a survey? Yes No How was it conducted? In Person Phone Other Did you answer truthfully? Yes No What is your age group? 1-10 yrs 11-21 yrs 21-40 yrs 41-60 yrs 60+ If you had to get rid of a color used in M&Ms, which would you choose? red green orange brown tan yellow Which character is cuter? Wilma Flintstone Fred Flintstone Barney Rubble Betty Rubble None of the above Are you saddened by the death of Superman? Yes No What is your level of education? elementary high school college graduate This question is lost. Feh. Did you read the instructions? Yes No When folks got down to the last question after answering all the questions, they usually asked if they could start over. Heh. I learned that 15% of the people who took part in this (mostly students and alumni at Rutgers who watch anime, majority of questions were asked at an anime party) followed directions. Betty Rubble is the cutest character on The Flintstones. Most people wanted to get rid of tan M&Ms and about half lied on questionnaires. The only questions that had to be answered were 4, 8 and 10. I don't recall the statistics for those. I also found this little gem I wrote while I was a Visual Communications major at my college. All the Natalie Merchant tapes you can listen to Find out the evil white man within and let the vegan lesbian run free You too can try to get work at MTV and fail miserably Talk about smoking marijuana and how right it is, but never do it Bleargh, it was tedious working late at night there and the grad students would be blaring their watery, lifeless college fag music tapes. Of course when they left the room, I'd commandeer the tape machine and turn it to WSOU 89.5 (or something else if they were showcasing basketball) but when they returned they'd always switch it back. I'd go switch it back immediately right under their hand much to their annoyance. Nice thing was that the radio was college property and not owned by any of the students and I'd pull shit like "You left, you lost control." They'd get all snotty and I'd get surly because surly usually wins. Either they'd grab the radio and leave the room or just glare at me wondering what my damage was. As soon as my ass was out the door for the night, I could hear the caterwauling begin again. Now an entry from seven years and two days ago. 12/8/93 Went into the city today straight out of Human Sexuality. Got weird on the train into Hoboken, talking like a little kid and asking for mommy and saying that I'm scared and don't want to go to the city. On the PATH, I sat in a corner with an empty seat to either side of me. I see my mom come in then my dad. We say hi and are surprised to see each other. Go to galleries, the last is the best with Cybele and the weird equestrian statue. Talk with mom about my taste in art and how it runs to the macabre lik Saturn Eating His Children. I almost screwed up and said Satan. At the 2nd gallery, Dad points out a semi-hidden painting in another room that is a nude of a girl up at the desk. I act disinterested. As I walk out, I look and double take. Mom laughs. They go to some touristy shop and I go sulk on some stairs waiting for them. I noticed there was a Clive Barker exhibit and get excited. They say "Let's go to Hillary's" for sushi. I'm like OK. So where is it? Back home. I don't wanna and we part ways. I walk down to St. Mark's Comics and notice it's changed locations. While looking for Cerebus I see this really cool chick. Petite with a short buzz and this swoosh in front. I find Peep Show and Hate, no Cerebus. I ask. Chick at the register doesn't know and asks for someone to ask me and it's the hot strange chick. She thinks it's sold out. I ask if there are any recent back issues. She looks and I'm like "DO SOMETHING!!!" Only Mothers & Daughters #13. I also didn't have the balls to make a move either. I leave a little dejected that I didn't have the balls and I didn't get the most recent Cerebus. Now I'm at Paul's Palace (ah, that's where I wrote this) eating my dinner and hoping that I have enough to take the PATH home. Ask Sarah to come into the city to see those galleries (Clive Barker stuff and strange equestrian statue guy) and St. Mark's and eats.   Sarah was this girl from college who I hung around with, she was an illustration major and drew comics which was really cool. One thing that I regret is that I was too shocked and frightened a bit when she said that she loved me after she gave me a t-shirt with Earl from Mutts on it. I didn't know what to say because it was pretty much a first for me. I was seriously fucked up back then. I'd never even kiss right, my lips would always be all stiff and pulled inwards. Blah. I figure I come across as intense nowadays, well my intensity is more focused and refined than it was in college because in college it was really creepy, because I don't want to fuck up and lose someone that I really really like but I'm afraid of saying that and I let my actions speak for me which is much more disturbing and dangerous than just saying "I really, really like you" or "I love you" to someone. So nowadays I just say the latter and if the feeling's not mutual I'll be depressed for a week and move onwards eventually or if the feeling is mutual I'm really happy for a while and eventually settle down to reality and keep up good spirits. I reckon I've written enough. Now to return to life and wait for confirmation that I will have a visitor in January. My fingers are crossed. Tomorrow: Death, holidays and all that kind of stuff. 12/10/00 Today wasn't the best day. At least I spent a good part of it in bed away from hell because my back decided to get knotted up again just like in June. I had a big "discussion" with my mother during which I started getting twinges in my back and I had to continue lying on the floor so it didn't hurt me anymore. It's feeling better now to the point that I could go out and get dinner. As before, the pain subsided when I was walking. My father just checked my back and he said he could feel it spasming. The good thing about the back spasms was the fact that it took the place of me punching myself. After the "discussion", I laid on the floor for about a half hour then forced myself to get back on my feet and got aspirin from the bathroom. I didn't call out for help. I kept most of my pain inside and didn't let it out except for a few whimpers. Felt like my back was boiling, not in the heat sense but all the bubbles, and when I tried to right myself and stalk back into my room I cried out. My mother thought I was throwing a tantrum and when I broke and yelled for help, sarcastically (the pain made me do it) or she figured I meant "help" when I said "hell". She came downstairs and I railed at her incoherently for about five minutes and interrupting her which actually made my back feel better. That was when she told me she thought I was throwing a tantrum and she was worried about self-preservation because I slammed my right fist (the lower left side of my back by my kidneys and floating rib is what hurts) on the bannister and it shook. She went off on how if I was truly in pain, like people who are in true pain, I shouldn't have been able to move. Sidelong Democrat cuntrag motherfucker. How about I tear your god damned brain out and defile my body with it so you could feel the excruciating pain. THEN FUCKING TELL ME I AM LYING WHORE. Did I mention that? I called her a whore because all she ever cares about is money and stated bald-faced to me that she doesn't care about my life.   Anyway, I promised stuff about death and the holidays and all that kind of happy shit. I know two people who say holidays (I'm counting birthdays too) are ruined because someone died around that time or because someone took a turn for the worse and died a few days after the holiday season. My mother is always a ratbag around the holidays and what I hear from my father is that her father took a turn for the worse from cancer around that time of the year. So? It's sad but don't piss on other people's fun. A few days ago she was commenting on the lights through clenched teeth and was asking me why I put up the lights since they're going to have to come down. I said, "You don't have to take them down. You don't have to put them up. I do because I want to because I enjoy it." Plus the cunt complains that sometimes the lights keep her up even though they are always turned off a bit before midnight. Then there's someone else. Someone who knew someone very dear to them that died and every year (more like every month) that death is bandied around. I wonder how the deceased gets any rest because his name's always being spoken. At least my mother doesn't go around whining and moaning, she just sabotages the holiday which is commendable in its own twisted way. Christ, let the dead fucking lie in peace and move on with your life. They would've wanted it that way. Bah, I've run out of steam. I refuse to let my mother ruin Christmas, she's already ruined my birthday and I'm planning on not being around at all because it's going to make me feel even worse if anything is done for me to celebrate my birthday. If nothing is done, I'll feel better since I was told today that she doesn't care about me or my life and there's only thing she wants from me and nothing else. Money. Money that's spare enough for me right now and I'll be fucking damned if I put off certain things in my life to pay her off to shut her the fuck up. That's all the money is. Here's money. Don't fucking bother me. I know when she gets back from visiting her mother after Christmas she will be on the rag tenfold what she is like now. On Sunday I'm going to email my resume over to Jaybird because he's always telling me that there are jobs out there in Colorado and he could help me get one if I got out there. I just want to be certain that if I do decide to do that and get away from this hell that I'm assured of cash and starting on my own and not being dependent on anyone. It's up in the air in my head and I will see how I feel later on this week. I was working out the cash to make it to Colorado and I'd probably need about 700 bucks for gas and tolls. Sleep, on the other hand, I'd just sleep in my car in church parking lots and be all unobtrusive before going my merry way. At best, my mother's plane crashes on the way down or the way back from seeing her mother and she's dead or even better ends up an invalid who is completely conscious of not being able to move and have her stuffed away in a corrupt nursing home where she will witness every moment of her hell with her body as a prison.

12/11/00 Sunday night was lovely. I sneaked out of the house to go to my father's business to be on the computer in peace and quiet. It made me feel better and I discovered this really interesting article about withdrawn people in Japan and somehow it seemed to fit me except for the fact that I do see my friends at least once a week but when I do see them it's mostly for gaming and afterwards there's rarely any congregating anymore. More businesslike, with gaming, than friendly-like. Tomorrow I'm going to drag my laptop into therapy and ask my therapist to read the article and we'll discuss. I'm hardly as foregone as some of these folks, asking them to leave the room before I enter but I do sneak around a lot and avoid folks (mostly to avoid confrontation or awkwardness that comes from distance and not understanding that there might be folks who love me). The answer seems elegant enough but I'll have to wait and see when I meet someone. Fingers crossed. When walking home tonight I saw deer. They whispered out of the darkness and stood in the shadows watching and nipping at the grass. I figure there were about eight or ten. I waddled over to a bench and watched them for a bit but eventually four ran off to safety and the other four just waited to see what I was up to. One smaller deer ran back to the remaining group, whispered something to them then they all ran off into the night around the back of the school. When I walked past that area I could see them all on an abandoned baseball diamond watching and sniffing and eating. Interesting thing was that when they ran out the first time and when they ran back to safety I thought they were wild dogs but their silence spoke volumes and I could feel their fragile hearts pounding frantically. I just whispered, "I mean you no harm" but they ran away. I figure it's a good sign. I hope it's a good sign. Tomorrow I'll be posting the Falc pics from this weekend's bash that were posted at gdfon.net. She's got a great set of cans. I heard she flashed the camera but that story is spurious and nobody had grabs of bare boobage. On that note, Niney keeps telling me that he has topless pics of loree from some Seattle bash when she flashed her tits at the camera but everytime I ask they're always "on another computer". It's bad enough that nobody has that naked Melon bash picture anymore and crayon's website is locked to outsiders. Sure, I could've had the presence of mind to download the pics when it was open to the public but noOoOOOo I was too stupid or they were saved on the hard drive that died :~( all those years ago. So I'm stuck with cocktease pics of Falc, random captures from AdoraCam when it was free and nude pictures of Bodey that hurt my eyes. Jeez. Oh yeah, pics of Trees playing with his cock on his web cam from an undisclosed source (huh, they're not in the e:\library\media\pics\nude\moo directory they must be around here somewhere). And a cocktease picture of Xaviera wearing only a sheet and I think you can see nipple through the sheet. Not wet t-shirt nipple, just like the nipples from a R. Crumb cartoon or any other 60's cartoon that always drew women with permanently erect nipples which were obvious through their tops. Then there's the horror of nude spivak. Why do I have these? I'm bored, they're nude and they're on the MOO. I know I definitely don't have Bodey's pics because they're so damned sexy. And so the nightmares begin... 12/12/00 I must not fear. Fear is the mind killer. Fear is the little death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain. I am not a fool. I am just reactionary and too sensitive sometimes. Came in a bit ago from a long walk uphill where I didn't stop except for one rest halfway up and then lying underneath a great big pine to completely catch my breath and regain energy so I could make it back down once again and I just walked until I came back inside and my ass hit the chair. Whew. I'm just going to wait and see if I get any replies in email. 12/13/00 Today the number twelve came up a bit, mostly in a game of Settlers where a sheep area created sheep on a twelve. Twelve came up three times which was a really cool thing. The game was nice and we almost had enough to do the big thing Tim had planned but that will have to wait until next week and it looks like this game will carry over into the new year for a little bit. I haven't opened any presents yet, probably going to do that on Wednesday because that's when I think I'm going to have cake. I have no idea what anyone got me but I'm sure I'll find out soon enough. Ronni was awfully nice and surprised me by getting me a black t-shirt. Cool. I always wear black t-shirts because I don't want to draw attention to myself and they're black. I have some stuff to do, need to go on LambdaMOO and talk with someone special, send out my email to the gaming folks and read some diary stuff online before I can even call it a night. Definitely not complaining. 12/14/00 I just came back downstairs after a lovely get together with everyone upstairs. I ended up getting Pokemon Gold and Yellow, a neat CD case for work, black shirts that are kind of embarassing (they say bada bing with a naked lady and the B in bada and bing have nipples on them, on the back it says "the sopranos"), a lovely book on astronomy that's good until 2010 (i think) and I think that's it. Now I'm back at the desk and dicking around on the computer with my god damned web site. Heh. Ben's growling at Katie because Katie wants to be in her bed but Ben commandeered it for himself. When he growls, it's like thunder. Such a great big bear. Later on I'll take a walk or drive out to fetch some dinner because the cake definitely needed "real food" to balance it out. Crap, my ISP isn't working at the minute. I kept getting disconnected from Lambda and when I get the pop up log in screen for my ISP it just hangs after I enter my password. At least they're a decent ISP. The previous ISP wasn't all that because they were constantly changing the ISP and it was a pain in the ass to keep up and second-guess what they were doing so I could get online some times. At least they had a local number which was a definite benefit. Local number? Yeah, I think I've told this story before. Back in the day when I first discovered MOO I was on Netcom's Netcruiser because after a month on AOL I wanted to see what was really out there. The dialup was in Newark and when I checked with the telephone directory the prefix was within the local dialing area for my town and so I logged in and stayed online quite a lot. End of the month: 500 dollar phone bill from logging onto the internet. This was back when I was really green and I had suspicions that for some reason when I'd telnet somewhere I'd end up paying the cost of a phone call to access the remote computer. How naive. After that fiasco, I got some sense and learned how to steal AOL and that was happy enough because I was near an AOL Sprint telephone number which wouldn't keep logs of who connected and all that kind of happy shit. During that time, I'd search around offline and online looking for other ISPs. Asking on AOL would only get snooty answers of "AOL is better" or have the TOS folks IM me with "This really isn't the forum to discuss these sorts of things". Christ, when I was describing disgusting necrophiliac / coprophiliac activities I never had TOS called on me especially when I was "off topic" in public rooms talking about that stuff. 12/15/00 Sometimes I wonder if I am unreasonable. Then again, how can I be unreasonable when it comes to things that I want for myself and for my own happiness. Looked at a few sites last night about old Atari 2600 games and my stomach sank because those games were oh so very old and the fact that I remember how much of a little snotnose I was back then when it came to games. I was happy to find so much documentation for this one game called Mountain King which I really liked and I always found out neat things like how to do really high jumps and go flying off to a secret level. Right now my life is okay. I'm a bit dissatisfied with it because this job isn't getting me a weekly salary and the fire under my ass has died down because of that fact. Plus I haven't heard back from this person as to how to make real audio files and how to stream them. Anyway, I know what I want in life (at least for right now and right now usually seems permanent. i refuse to look ten years into the future or even wonder what that'll be like because it's only led to depressing things. if i know what i want for right now, my head's programming turns it around so that it's for good rather than a finite amount of time. sadly that's where conflict usually comes in. conflict with folks or conflict with events in my life) but it's just not happening soon enough and only I am to blame. I could be on my way with my life by now but I have this laziness. Is that too harsh? I dunno. I'm always my harshest critic. I reckon that I'm burning out on pokemon. Today I got my 16th badge and all I have to do is fight Ash in Mt. Silver and then the rest of the game is collecting all 250 pokemon. Not really in the mood at the moment. Maybe a few months from now. No, I'm not losing interest in my site. Just feeling stagnant and I'm trying to get fucking rolling. Still have to get presents, buy cards and that kind of stuff along with getting this one web site out of my hair (Project B) and moving on to other things, better things. 12/16/00 The past few days my dreams have had great resonance in my head but I can not remember a single dream. Not one. I have impressions of certain dreams being about comparing handwriting to deduce someone's guilt, dreams where I am in a field and I know that the field is my father, yet more dreams where I am in a swimming pool. None of them have been nightmares, some of them left me feeling disturbed. Other parts of these dreams have been akin to standing in one of the wind storms we had last week where it blows so hard that breathing is almost impossible. You can feel the wind but you can't see the wind and when it's all over there you are completely unchanged. Those dreams were like that and those dreams did seem to be flowing quite deeply in my subconscious. My sleeping self, using an analogy, is floating in dark waters that are still and quiet but down below is a very strong undercurrent with a lavender glow moving quickly from the direction of my head to my feet and onward into the darkness that goes further towards the surface of this vast ocean. 12/17/00 I haven't gotten an email from diarists.net so I think that they have not added me to their exclusive listing of online diaries. I will be removing their little link on the bottom of this page and continue writing my words into the great void. I went to bed late last night and I got up late today. I caught Devotchka online for a few minutes but then my computer froze up something fierce and I couldn't log back onto my ISP for at least an hour and by then, like all good and honest people, she was in bed. I haven't stopped playing pokemon entirely, last night I hatched the final eevee, traded over to blue and evolved them into the fire/water/electric and traded them back. Plus I tried breeding a sunflora with my ditto, hatched the egg and was blessed with a female sunkern instead of a male (for the uninitiated, males pass along attacks, females just pass along species) so I have to breed yet another one and get a male to evolve into a sunflora and train it to level 11 so it gets razor leaf, delete the other moves except razor leaf and then breed it with my oddish to get an oddish with razor leaf. Whew. I'm just trying to breed an oddish who will have sunny day, solar beam, razor leaf and I think the last move will be sleep powder, moonlight or sludge bomb. Last night I learned something which amused me to no end but I am surprised at the feeling I have regarding what I learned. I know it but I have absolutely no desire to tell it. Usually I burst at the seams trying to keep something in when it makes me laugh and leak bits and pieces everywhere. Other times I just post it on *anonymous at LambdaMOO. I just know something and I ain't gonna tell. That's not to say that I am always telling secrets. I'm brimming with secrets, some of which I force myself to forget in order to keep them that private. All I need is a certain key phrase spoken by the person who told me and swore me never to tell and it'll boil up to the surface then they'll get surprised by what I remember. Usually folks are surprised at what I remember and get confounded when I don't remember something that they think would be elementary for me. I remember Yellow_Guest. I remember hair wrapped around a red cloth at Hallowe'en. I remember some conversations from my first Christmas with Malyss. I remember room 363. All that kind of happy horseshit. Mind you, when I'm forced to remember something I will completely refuse (subconsciously) to remember and the infuriation on the behalf of the prodder increases geometrically. I'm good with secrets. Real secrets. Okay, my definition of what constitutes a real secret is subjective. Brian and Tim have told me stuff in confidence that I will not share. Malyss, Devotchka and others have told me stuff that I will not share and the reasoning is because they are good friends not because they also know things about me. If someone knows something about me that I told them in confidence and they share it then there's nothing I can really do. Big fucking deal, it's out there and it was just my pussy-assed fear that kept me from being honest about it on *stonecutters or this diary. The world won't come to an end. A good example is when Malyss was really pissed at me last year in February and she found pics that I took with her (now deceased) digital camera of my shlong among other things. She decided in her wee apple head that she would post them somewhere to "get me" but then realized that I wouldn't give a shit if they were posted and that I'd probably mirror them on my web page. Back on secrets, and it's just me tooting my own horn, I know stuff about Kinja that I'll never leak or share because she expressly asked me not to, not because nobody knows anything about Kinja and they wouldn't be able to write some fanfic about her using those tidbits or use them spitefully on *anonymous. She might not agree since I spoke with my father and my sister about the troubles we had to try and figure out why she thought I was such an inconsiderate fuckwit and why most times I thought she was ungrateful. This goes beyond the whole "don't tell or I'll get really angry" child molester shtick I wrote about in a previous entry. Tomorrow I'm going to try and write my life down in a single entry. 12/18/00 Last night I dreamt that I wrestled with a lion. I was in a backyard somewhere and heading over to a convenience store that happens to be where this old oil supply building used to stand. Pretty much the neighborhood is a long street through my town. On one side is a post office, next to it are the ruins of the oil supply building and next to it is a parking lot. There's a convenience store where the oil building was. Enough recursiveness. In the parking lot was a big metal sculpture that looked like a fireblasted evergreen tree with large clumps that resembled jungle animals. I reached out and one was furry and it came alive into a lion which chased me for a bit but I lost it in the trees next to the convenience store. So I went into the store and it was cluttered like a shop in Chinatown. People were running out behind me and I didn't know why. From behind the counter the lion pounced and was upon me. I thought, "oh fuck" and tried to wrestle away from it. I remembered that if you put your thumbs on a lion's wrists they will retract their claws and all you have to avoid is their mouth which would be relatively easy. The claws retracted much to my surprise! I wrestled out of the beast which kept continually bounding after me until I made it out the door into the parking lot where I was met by a bunch of SWAT guys who had a shotgun in my face but they were there to take care of the lion and not me. That's all I remember from the dream. The shadow of bad news is looming over me at the moment but I'm hoping for the best on both parts. I'm expecting to see a very close friend from the MOO sometime after New Year's but circumstances that just came up on their behalf might make it unlikely that a visit will occur. So far, it is wait and see but the stars aren't favorable at the moment. I'm selfishly hoping that they'll change. Hrm. I just heard news that the visit will not be going down and further information will not be known until after the new year. I am a little sad. Today I aquired Tim and Brian's Christmas gift and I'm happy that I was able to find something for Brian because his girlfriend wasn't any help. Hurgle. Still haven't ordered stuff online and I have to find out what to get my sister and my parents (whether singly or to both). Tuesday will be spent wrapping gifts and filling out Christmas cards. On the stonecutters channel people were talking about sex and I brought up one of my peculiarities. I don't mind receiving fellatio at all but if a woman is going to work me until I finally feel release she's going to have a sore jaw or stiff neck by the time she's done. So I started thinking in an offhanded way that this might be something like the princess and the pea. The story, if you are unfamiliar with it, is about someone trying to prove that a visitor is indeed a princess by having her sleep upon a bed made up of thirty mattresses with a single pea tucked beneath them all. Only a princess would be able to feel such a thing. Twisting that around to the point that it's barely recognizable is that I might find my one single and true mate in the woman who can get me off with her mouth in under an hour or under a half hour. I remember that this would frustrate Kinja to no end because she would claim that she could get a man off in mere minutes using only her lips and tongue. Then big ol' spivak came in and probably became the exception to the rule. I can't say that for certain because I haven't spoken with her or anyone associated with her (naughty or otherwise) in months so my claim might be spurious. Of course that little sentence about finding the woman for me is tongue in cheek. Hurm. Switch to diary_spivak mode. Every time I do get involved with someone I always seem to focus in as if they might be the one which can be sweet but it's awful wrong to put that kind of responsibility on someone. Especially someone who barely even knows me or barely even knows that expectations that I have. I might be selling myself short with the last statement and I have every right to feel that way because I deserve the best for myself. Why do I focus in like that? Because I've always been alone and it's only recently that I've been able to shrug off the crap that's encrusted around me for the greater part of my life and actually relax and be myself instead of being REALLYINTENSE or coming across as so aloof that some woman will think I'm not interested or even worse... a fudgepacker. Just fuck it all. I do everything with fucking passion and fuck those who can't handle it because it's their fucking loss if they don't want to run with me or just sit down and stare at the stars with me. I shift gears really easily and I reckon that it disrupts folks because they get used to lazy_spivak who hasn't a care in the world and then suddenly lazy_spivak becomes intense_spivak who charges up the situation fuelling others to the same kind of intensity that sometimes leads to fights (from misunderstandings or me appearing two-faced) or leads to wondering what kind of drugs I am on and slowly backing away from the large hairy man beast. Whew. Okay, that was an entry and a half. Diary_spivak, dreams, sex and stuff. 12/19/00 Gaming night was nice, even though it was short. I'll go into that in the other column. For Christmas, I got Brian Barlowe's Inferno which is Wayne Barlowe's vision of what hell is and I got Tim Half Life which was cool since he said he was finishing up Diablo II crack and was thinking about trying Half Life. I got Half Life for him because it seemed to have a bit more realism, urgency and tactics to it than Quake, Unreal or Doom like how you have to get scientists to heal you up instead of finding random stimpacks. Cunnilingus. Ain't nuttin' purtier than a woman screaming and moaning because you're working her clit like a mound of silly putty. The feel of her heels against my back. The gripping and yanking of my hair when I continue sucking at that bad little nubbin after being told, "oh god it hurts now" even though I can feel her cumming through my lips. What I dislike is a big wooly bush. I like it to be trimmed or completely smooth. That whole "she'll look like a seven year old" doesn't wash with me because I don't need the competition in the fur department (aaugghhh, my beard's velcroed to your bacon strip) and I don't need a little hair caught in the back of my throat for five days afterwards despite the fact that I'm hacking up a lung to dislodge it for some relief. There was one time where I was exploring my mouth with tweezers before a mirror trying to grab that bad boy and yank it out so I could have a modicum of comfort. Big ol' wooly bush is where I'd just look down, smile, rub her gently and work her with my hands while moving my attention and (hopefully) her attention elsewhere so she forgets that I'm not going down on her. I consider it a wooly bush if there are curls. If there's just the really tight short hairs that are plastered against the skin I don't mind it that much and I can work around that. One must be talented when dealing with things like that since sometimes women get offended if you don't go down on them. Sure, cunnilingus is a pretty girly thing to do and a guy should be able to get a woman off with his cock alone with some raw hard fast fucking from behind while gripping those teats like ripe cantelopes ready for harvest. Sometimes I can do the latter and when I can, I am godlike. More often than not I have a serious amount of misgivings when a woman says she cums because I've heard all kinds of stories which mount up to being complete bullshit in my book. Some women from online who say "I can orgasm without touching myself" which is definitely a nice way of saying "I'm in a lab" even though I've read in Everything You Wanted to Know About Sex* (*but were afraid to ask) and other sex manuals that I read voraciously in my teens in hopes of being the best or one of the best lays that a woman would have. Of course it's not entirely about sex, and I say this without sarcasm or any hint of diary_spivak, because it's also about really digging a woman and showing it than just grabbing those whoppers and thrusting for five minutes. Women are a theme park and as soon as they remove some garment or allow some strange location to be licked and worshipped one can be assured one has just received an E ticket to go on all of the rides. This reminds me, I dislike strip clubs. It's nice that these women have a career of showing off their boobies to strangers and gyrating wildly while pantomiming hot sapphic action but in the end it really is just a job. They're not up there because they enjoy their work or they get off from guys getting stiffies from a stripper taking their fiver with their overdeveloped vaginal muscles. It's awfully neighborly that there's the veneer of intimacy, the whispers, the nude body close by smelling of 5 bucks a gallon perfume, a set of cans wobbling two inches from the nose. But where's the fun in it? I've been to one strip club in my entire life and that was for a bachelor party which I'm sure I've mentioned at least twice in my journal. If you want to read, you can go find it with the search engine because I'm sure as heck not going to link to it right now. The strip club was awfully mechanical, I had a wad of cash that I flashed but as the night wore on I got less attention and ended up slipping Tim a couple of twenties to have fun since I wasn't going to use the cash I earmarked for female nudity. There's absolutely no fun. There are rules that go from "no touching above the knee or below the ankle" and crazy stuff like that. Just say don't touch and just look and be happy of that. I didn't see any real joy coming of this and I thought, "Wow, what a fucking rip. I could go to some convention that Ty and Stephanie will be at and screw around there for free with no restrictions." Oh yeah, I'm pretty sure I got less attention as the night wore on because I was bored and decided to make eye contact with the talent which I've heard is a great big no-no. That part was amusing, how they tried misdirection by playing with themselves and suddenly I'd just snap my attention back at their eyes. Still, strip clubs seem particularly joyless and I doubt I would go again unless I was going with someone who would make the experience fun or there was almost nothing to do and this was the only prospect for entertainment. Of course my opinion isn't hard and fast. Strange how I've been writing about sex but I've hardly been thinking about sex outside of my wake-up roll over and turn on the TV to see what I can spy through the satellite scrambling but even then I start thinking "It's time to get up" and just get on with my day. It's snowing outside, the first snow of the year and according to the old wives tales that I know this means that it will snow nineteen times between now and the vernal equinox. I hope it lasts, the flakes are really small and they seem to be sticking nicely on the cars. Cars are usually good indicators of how decent a snowfall will be except I can't explain how I can reckon this because I just know. Finally I have a review of Teen Witch which is one of the books that the lovely Jaybird and maribou mailed me for my birthday and Christmas filling my heart with joy. The other book is The Wild Shore and a thick volume about hard science fiction. Teen Witch pretty much covered the basics of wicca or what most people like to slap together under the generic term of paganism. Threefold return, be nice, don't hurt anyone, blah, blah, blah. This is all well and good in theory and something to aspire to but damn it I've noticed in life that folks need to engage in some sort of destructive behavior that is antisocial. Not so much going out and murdering folks which is a Bad Thing (tm) or destroying something that is innocent or embodies the quality of innocence but generally being an asshole or riding one's rage. I liked the little spells that were made up, some of them made me wince because of the poetry or the way the author wasn't explicit in her instructions. For example she'd say "Sometime around Saturday night" rather than "hour before midnight on Saturday" or "the hour of Mars on Saturday". Okay, this is a book for beginners or teenagers who are way too timid to look in the 100's section of their local library to get books on the occult but I thought it would be nice if she wrote down how to figure out which hour is governed by which planet because I have a basic understanding of that mechanic but it's kinda shaky and some reinforcement would be good so my knowledge base would become fortified with the extra information. Definitely a gag gift from Herr Jaybird, but it was interesting in a sick sort of way for me. I just wish that whole "ande ye harme none" stuff would be downplayed because teaching that philosophy just shows bad faith in humanity. People are generally good, you just need to give them a chance because the decency within will eventually shine through. Espousing stuff like karma or threefold return gives me the impression that the person talking has no faith in the goodness of humanity and therefore it should be reminded of this maxim daily lest it revert to base acts of wanton cruelty. Karma, threefold return and all that are just empty investments with no real, tangible returns. I think that's about it from my head, I'm scraping the inside of an empty jack o'lantern and I'm all out of seeds and pumpkin string. Good night and don't lose your dreams.

12/20/00 I still haven't gone shopping. I swear I'll do some shopping tomorrow, even if it kills me. Ended up sending out Christmas cards at quarter to five this evening and there's a faint glimmer of hope that they might arrive on the 26th or so. Maybe earlier. I feel tired and it's slowly becoming overtired. Overtired to the point where I weaken and diary_spivak comes out. There is an evil side to diary_spivak. This is entirely me, I've never been told this but I have read into past events and all the complexities (objective or subjective) that I have perceived about them. Diary_spivak gets down. Diary_spivak can do this at the drop of a hat, like flipping a switch and it will be entirely rational to him and he can lay a stronger foundation than a medieval stonemason. Diary_spivak will want to be brought up and hope that someone will find in themselves to reach out. If they don't reach out, that's when he brings out his cudgel. Sometimes it is in the form of "say what I want to expect you to say", swinging around guilt or even worse beating himself up. Like that pasty fat monk in The Name of the Rose, he's beaten himself physically and mentally so much that it doesn't hurt but he has a twisted idea that it hurts the folks who care. After a struggle, something happens that makes him happy and suddenly diary_spivak wonders "what the fuck just happened?" That's when the real beating up on the inside begins because now these blows are true, backed by disgust at himself for getting like that, hoping that each blow will somehow curtail such activity in the future. Thing is that this doesn't happen too often and usually it feels more traumatic to me than it is to the other person. I have no idea and the very fact that I have no idea bothers the ever living fuck out of me. Now I feel all tired. Winter Solstice Went shopping. My petition on LambdaMOO failed by about twenty votes. Got my parents a DVD player for Christmas and procured a cell phone cover for my sister's brand new cellphone. I went around looking for another gift for her to kinda balance things out but I didn't find a thing that would fit her. Went to the Short Hills mall and checked out Nordstrom and Macy's to see if they had any decent light scarves (which was nicely suggested to me and I plan on sticking with that since I wasn't steered wrong when I was going to get my sister something for her birthday, hi dee) but when I looked at the tags I had a coronary. Seventy bucks. Oh, fun thing about going through that mall, there were ritzy cars parked in the middle. Oh the temptation of dragging my keys against the vehicle was so great. A two hundred thousand dollar Bentley. Does the fucking car suck you off and play with your balls while you drive it? I didn't see a Vac-U-Jack installed. I couldn't get close enough to scrape my keys but I did lean against it with my leather jacket and did short rubs with the zippers on the cuffs to scuff the paint. Anyway, I'm going to use tomorrow and finalize shopping and wrap gifts that evening. Things are working out. Plus on Saturday there's going to be a good dinner but my mother's brother will be there and he's a dullard. It is tempting to just drop out and not do dinner but the food will be free and good. My dad's friend runs a restaurant which is pretty good, just gotta get there on a night when it isn't family night. Lastly, I will be mailing out the last Christmas-y thing I have to mail out. Long time ago Kinja gave me a picture of herself when she was a tot and I've had it taped up on my wall. Sorta was a reminder that she used to be innocent and, without mincing words, was straight in the head. It's long overdue to send the picture back because it feels all weird having that picture. I'm sure she'd want to have it for herself to hold and cherish, to give back to her mother, or give it as a lovely gift to whichever midnight-skinned Zulu she's grinding against nowadays. At least she's happy. Yep, today's the winter solstice and it's the only day of winter. Winter is the shortest day of the year and, like you know, afterwards the days slowly start growing longer and longer which is the advent of spring. Same goes for the summer solstice which is the longest day and each day afterwards gets shorter and shorter until the cycle begins again. If you think about it there are only two real seasons, autumn and spring. Just some parts tend to be colder or warmer depending on how things are going weather-wise. It is nice that the coldest parts and hottest parts seem to last for only three months which works out nicely for four seasons. This is pretty much the same pedantry that goes along with "the millennium begins in 2001, not 2000" and other stuff like that. I think I'll be going to sleep sometime soon. Just wish that I knew why the little information gatherer all the way down at the bottom of my page isn't behaving. It seemed to stop around two-ish today. 12/22/00 After I fixed the javascript for that site tracker I added to my page it stopped working. Yeah, the site said "don't touch this" but fuck one of the things I take pride in when I create this page is the fact that my html validates and there have been only a few occaisions where it didn't validate. It's kinda like something I saw on TV where romance novellists were being interviewed about their work and they stated that the novels are usually an exercise in perfect grammar, spelling and punctuation for them rather titillation. My page might be filled with whining or hatred or outright ignorance but the thing that matters most importantly to me is that my HTML validates. Only a step behind that is keeping my friends up to date with my life and in third place is hoping that this page entertains people. Now for my life: I was born in New Jersey on December 12th, 1970 about twenty or thirty minutes after the moon was completely full. My first two years were spent living in Irvington which was already on the skids then we moved to our current town where we settled down in a yellow house on a sleepy street. Sadly the house doesn't resemble the house it used to be, before or after the first renovation. The first book that I read was One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish at the age of three. When I was five, I wanted a magic set to do tricks and my father gave me The History and Practice of Magic by Paul Christian which was read at night for the longest time except for the horoscope stuff which confused my wee head. I mooned a bunch of kids for quarters back in first grade and got in trouble. After I was caught, nobody really hung around me anymore. When walking home from school one day this girl started talking with me and she asked me if I knew any dirty words. I nodded and whispered "fuck" and all the way home I cried because I was afraid she was going to follow through on her chanting to rat on me and my dirty mouth. I had a girlfriend but she moved to Florida before second grade started. One of the things I remember was when I was in the bathtub on a Sunday and she came over to see me. I remember some black and white Jerry Lewis UFO movie was on the TV at the time. It was pretty keen. When the house was renovated the first time we moved in with my father's parents for about a year. My friends were a fat filipino, a retarded Italian kid (around whom I would always say fongul because of his reaction) and this WASP who was way into Adolph Hitler. He had a good collection of Star Wars toys which I would pocket when he'd go to the bathroom, ehhhehehe. Lunches were spent hanging around with them or having turf wars with other cliques because we had usage of this one jungle gym (which was always the death star) and we didn't want to use the other jungle gym which sucked. The house was renovated and we moved back in. It was the best house. Huge bookcase on one wall, enormous fireplace on another wall and out back between both of those walls was a great porch with a hammock and patio furniture. We'd sit out there in the rain or I'd sleep in the hammock or see if there were birds living in one of the corners (usually bluejays) or if a spider left an enormous web which would always be untouched. Life dragged on. My father, sister and I did a silly radio play that I wish we still had on tape but it's lost somewhere which is sad. What makes me feel extra bad about it is when we decided to wrap up the radio play I decided I would be really adult and say "It sucks" at the end but instead of eliciting laughter it just brought stunned silence. In fourth grade I kicked in a window in hopes of breaking into the school to steal some tests. The window was reinforced with wires and I didn't have the time to break the rest of the window to get inside so I decided to get back home. Halfway across the playground I decided to see if I cut myself and it was a doozy. Ended up getting sixteen stitches, 11 on the outside and five on the inside. There was a church nearby and there were people being let out, I thought "Hey, churchy type people are suckers" and whipped up some fake tears so I wouldn't bleed to death and gave a story about riding my bike like a daredevil and going through the window. Around seventh and eighth grade I started liking school and hung around regular kids rather than going off by myself into the woods or hanging around the usual suspects. I discovered how cool fire really is and was glad that I had friends who were pyromaniacs too. We'd fill those honey bears with gasoline and squirt them at fires or ignite trash cans in the dead of winter to keep warm while waiting for the school doors to be opened. Other times we'd play with niggerchasers (bottle rockets with the stick broken off, light, throw in air and run. whoever gets chased loses). My friend Rob and I were caught lighting fires in eighth grade and had three days of in school suspension. Despite all that, I felt pretty good. High school wasn't much fun for the first year. The only cool thing was that the students were allowed to go off campus and get lunch in town rather than eat in the cafeteria. This always meant playing Gauntlet and shoplifting. I was caught twice for shoplifting but only picked up by cops once. The worst that my shoplifting ever got was going into Newberry's with my friend at the time, getting empty Newberry's bags and filling the bags up with toys only to walk out as if we already paid. Genius, pure genius. Around the middle of high school I learned that we were in a regional district which meant if I wanted to take a particular class, I could attend a different high school. January of my sophomore year I was going full time to another school. Things were cool after that. I had my gerbils from biology class which became a huge inbred dynasty that ran out of control for an entire year. I met my friend Brian and hung out with a bunch of guys and played manhunt and raised hell. In 1988 we got our first real computer, an Apple IIc+ which was used to play Wasteland, DragonWars and to write porn. The porn involved a friend's sister, her neighbor (who happened to be the same chick who was chanting about telling on me for saying fuck) and me. I started writing this because there was this one time when I was leaving my friend's house after abusing his pool and when I got past the fence I saw her lying out in the backyard. I looked again and I realized she was lying out topless. I didn't dare stare for fear that the heat from my eyes would get her attention so I sped home. I caught her twice like that afterwards. Ooopha. Writing porn eventually became dull and I found myself going through the text correcting spelling errors and fixing punctuation. After high school there was only one friend who was still around and kept in touch with me and that was Brian. Everyone else went their seperate ways. I have no idea what happened to Bill, I think he's working some blue collar minimum wage job. Chuck's living nearby but I haven't had any real impetus to go over and say hello. I also hit on Marie, Chuck's ex girlfriend, and we were close for a bit but she thought I was fat (I was 230 and 6'2") and I almost went up to punch her lights out after a few insensitive remarks after my dog Sunny died. I went to two colleges, neither of which were finished because I had no money or support to do so. At Kean I got involved with the school newspaper contributing cartoons and ended up becoming the arts & graphics editor. The time during and after school was spent gaming, I tried this thing called LAIRE which was a IRL D&D with boffer weapons but it sucked like most LARPs. There was a long running Vampire game going on and my circle of friends grew to include Tim, then Deanna and lots of others who filled out ranks only to vanish a year or so later. Got sucked into the internet, got involved there and eventually IRL with some then I met Malyss. We'd go out for Chinese on weekends, the folks who owned the place asked if we were brother and sister, we'd drive around judging Christmas light displays, I introduced her to gaming and MOO, we'd screw around, we'd be lumps, we'd hang around with Cathy because there was nothing better to do and Cathy had a pool or go down to Cape May for a day. Then there was Kinja and I think my diary picks up from about there. I have no idea how much of this is repeated elsewhere on my site but I'll leave it as it stands. I am glad that it's not long. Sometime next week I am going to rummage through the photo albums upstairs and get pics to go along with this. I'll post them on a seperate page with captions that are anchored to parts of this autobiography. 12/23/00 Lately I've been thinking a whole lot about wishes. My whole idea of wishes is corrupted by such tales like The Monkey's Paw and those featured on The Twilight Zone. See, if I ever had three wishes I would be caught off guard and I'd probably hem and haw when the wishes are presented before me for the actual act of wishing. I wouldn't know if the genie, which I will use as a generic term here, is trying to screw me or if the genie is going to make a genuine effort for the wish to come true in a nice way. The solution? Legal contracts. First thing that comes to my mind is, "it's a fucking wish, why are you going to wrangle it into some legal bullshit rather than just wishing and living life?" Two reasons, the first would be if I wished for a billion dollars I wouldn't want to suddenly come upon the money and have it half of it taken away by the IRS and then being sent to jail followed by burning up the other half of that billion to clear my good name and end up with nothing thereby learning some ironic lesson. Secondly, I think I'd be able to make the wish a richer experience by adding conditions and things that would be in line with a wish. Of course the wish would simply be stated "I wish for you to fulfill this contract." Maybe, just maybe, I'll see about having three wishes drawn up as contracts and keep them someplace safe for that day when I come across a tarnished brass lamp in an antique store which was right there a few minutes ago but it's now an abandoned building. The world isn't that bad though and I reckon I should have more faith in genies if I'm actually going to believe that wishes truly exist. The kind of wishes that are written about in Arabia or in the non-ironic episodes of The Twilight Zone. I'm going to be wrapping presents soon and then sneaking them upstairs under the tree come tomorrow night. Nothing exciting going on over here. Been logging into Lambda but only for a few minutes, can't see the point of it right now. Christmas Eve It's Christmas Eve. Tonight I have uploaded a few pages that are about the major players in my life. People who I have never met in real life. Others who have moved on quietly like a radio DJ who suddenly isn't on the air anymore. Folks who are in my life right now. All of them have made their way into my web page repeatedly whether they like it or not. There's Devotchka, Brian, Malyss, Tim, Kinja and me. I will put my dad and sister here later. Tonight is the night when the animals talk. At midnight, for a few minutes, the animals talk like they always do. My grandmother told me this when I was a wee spivak. On Christmas Day there's going to be a partial eclipse of the sun. Christmas I slept through the eclipse. I was awake before anything interesting would've happened. I got shirts but they weren't black t-shirts, I got socks, a new backpack, a digital camera, twenty five bucks and I think that is about it. Merry Christmas. 12/26/00 This is funny. The way my father told me this I immediately thought of A Christmas Story. While he was driving her to the airport so she could visit her mother for the holiday week she asked him, "Who got spivak the digital camera?" in a tone that suggested that my father went behind her back and got it for me. I was shocked by that. It's not a Red Ryder BB gun. The only thing I'll probably shoot is my cock when I'm bored. Dress it up in a little costume and draw a mustache and do a penis play. Lordy, when she returns from visiting her mother (she always returns pissed off which makes me wonder why the hell she visits in the first place) it'll probably be hellacious like last year except I won't be a pussy and avoid her for three months. Last night I reminded myself of why I should not drink because I had half a bottle of vodka. It was kept very cold because I would put it outside in the bitter cold (yay!) and bring it in for a drinkypoo. First thing, I woke up feeling like total shit. Second thing, I was not myself last night and might've hurt someone or confused them when it was just me all knocked out (from an email I got). Lastly, I slept in until five fucking pee ehm. On the upside, the first thing I saw when I turned on the television was Dragonball Z with Gohan obliterating Cell once and for all. I drank because I was bored and I had not had a drink to get drunk since 1986 and I thought with my maturity, newfound body mass and the fact that I had a full stomach that I would be able to handle it. Never, ever again. At least I didn't get violent or loud which is the primary reason why I avoid alcohol. The secondary, and it is a close secondary, reason is the fact that alcohol tastes like wee-wee. I will only touch alcohol if there is nothing in the house worth imbibing, like the rare nights where I would have a hard lemonade or (ecch) a Coors and even then I won't completely consume it. The Emperor's New Groove was good despite my reservations about the movie. I was turned off by the trailers and the fact that all Disney movies have some sort of fucking musical number thrown in for no real reason and I only went to see it because Brian had passes and The Emperor's New Groove was ten days old which meant we could get in for free. For a free movie, it was really good. If I had to pay, I wouldn't have felt ripped off but I would've seen it as a matinee. It had no musical numbers and it was only an hour and eighteen minutes long (I think it was a straight to video that tested well enough to get released in theaters). There were some cute parts but nothing that I really laughed out loud but I was hardly watching the time or occupying myself with other thoughts like doing certain things in Champions or fixing up movesets for pokemon. Afterwards we went to the Moriarity house to have a late dinner and talked for a bit but my stomach wasn't feeling to well and I had to crap out early. The other reason I left early is because the office phoned the house last Thursday but used the downstairs number which is almost exclusively used for faxing and modeming stuff and I heard about it tonight. I told 'em which number to use and how to avoid something like that in the future while conveying concern about what the phone call was regarding. Hopefully it was just something to say Merry Christmas. Finally I'd like to thank Devo for her contribution to fixing my photos so they're not as dark as they originally were. I don't like how flash photography looks and I tried to avoid it but apparently the pictures came out too dark even though to my eye they were just right since darkness can convey a mood and I'm not talking about White Wolf gothic bullshit. 12/27/00 Just woke up. The dream before was a strange little one all about there being a dark place and the computer was on and connected to Lambda. I was awakened by trigger noises that told me someone sent me pages but since the screen was off or in a strange state where I couldn't check the scrollback I never found out what was paged to me. So I reconnected to Lambda and went to the old port. As always, the dogs started dancing around me telling me they had to go outside and pee. Got up and let them out and they did their usual bit of stretching leashes to their limit and peeing. I looked down at Ben and about a yard away from him was Rocco who just came outside stalking in that tiny Rocco way until he squatted and started peeing too. First thought was to reach over and grab him while he peed because Rocco's not an outside cat like Pudding was. After Ben finished peeing, he finished first which is a miracle since Ben's usually whizzing for a good five minutes unlike Kate, he thundered back towards the patio door. Rocco thundered along with him and they were soon inside while Kate was still out there watering the lawn. Strange thing as Rocco was coming back indoors there was a strange voice over that played which stated "Rocco's market share has gone down significantly". Hm, I tried calling the office but both lines were busy for an hour straight. I shall assume they are away for the week and relax. Boy do I feel like a dork for going home early last night but at least I found that Devo was online and that's a happy thing. I spent the greater part of the afternoon playing around with MS Comic Chat and making up my own Jerkcity comics. I made five in total. 1 2 3 4 5 I wish that I was a better artist because I want to do The Last Supper with the characters from Dragonball Z. Goku, of course, is Christ. Vegeta is Judas, spilling the symbolic salt on the table. I'd make Piccolo take John's place (holding up one finger) and fill out the ranks with the rest of the Z team. 12/28/00 alizarin posted this link on *stonecutters which is a test that figures out what your D&D alignment would be. I ended up being chaotic good. When I was taking the test I was almost certain I would end up neutral evil or lawful evil but when I saw chaotic good I was surprised. Either it was because I think I'm generally a mean, malicious, spiteful and pedantic person or that I associate the situations that were used to calculate how chaotic or lawful one is as being evil. Maybe I shouldn't be so hard on myself because the rest of the world isn't that hard on me or don't care enough to be that hard on me. On the other-other hand, it might be the fact that I'm mean, malicious, spiteful and pedantic towards evil so that makes me good. Right? Right?!? Hrm. I just get down sometimes when folks say that they think I wouldn't like something, sure it shows that they know me and my tastes and I should be overjoyed at the fact that someone cares enough to know that about me, but at least gimme a chance. Now, a dream. Dreamt that I was being picked up in some unknown college parking lot by Brian. We started driving out but there was a lot of traffic as if it was a mall on Christmas Eve not too long after closing. We drove a bit until the car became a bumper car like the other cars in front of us which were going through a tunnel. The line of traffic was irritating, there were various toll gates that would regulate traffic and two cars in front was some asshole who would keep lots of space in front of him. Tall, scrawny, dirty asshole. I began shouting and calling him a filthy German for some reason, as if that was the most vicious epithet I could muster in the dream. The cars came to a point where we could get out and start walking out to the street. The fucker spit at me three times and on the third time I grabbed his face and threw him down on the ground hard. His melon split and he was dead. I continued up the stairway towards the street until some bobby was shouting, "Wot's all this then" after me to which I simply spun around and said calmly, "He spit at me three times." I think the bobby took down my name and information and when he was through with me I had an idea that I was in big trouble because I had killed someone. Not urgent, life is going to end trouble but trouble that I could handle in a dream. Minutes later as I reached the street level a female bobby came along and asked me a few questions again and I replied in the affirmative that I did kill the guy after he spit at me three times. She nodded and I left, thinking I got away because she didn't get any of my information. I went down to find a barrister and along the way I was told in a dream sort of way that the guy I had killed wanted to be killed because he was keeping Gary Coleman against his will in a flat and he had removed most of Gary Coleman's forearm leaving him to bleed to death. Looking around, I found a laundry room which was painted blue and a bit run down and I went out through a glass door into the night followed by Brian. Interesting thing is that I had killed someone but Brian was unlike his usual personality where he would harp on the fact that i had murdered someone, committed a crime and all that. He was simply a silent and complacent witness. I stepped out the door and realized that I was inside of Jupiter all the time. The door slammed shut and I could see the shadows of Europa and Ganymede racing across the cloud layer. High above they were just black disks limned with dim sunlight. Before I knew it, the night side had rolled around and I could see the other moons of Jupiter in a strange kind of light that made them glow like misshapen layered gemstones. A voice in my head said these were the moons of Jupiter that no one ever spoke of because they were shaped like spider shit. I closed my eyes from fear and told Brian to grab the cuff of my pants and spin me around so I could start going home. He replied that he was already doing that and I could start feeling motion. I opened my eyes again and it was sunny outside. I stood alone in the parking lot of a motel that is used for long term residences rather than travellers and cheating spouses. My mind told me that I was there to meet someone on the second floor. I walked around the premises and it was pretty dead until I found one place where a dark haired woman was ironing her clothes behind a screen door. "Excuse me, do you know where i have to go?" I asked. She told me that it was the middle motel room on the second floor, I couldn't miss it. Now from my vantage point I could see the middle motel room and tied to it was a big towel that had a warning on it. "Beware, bare breasted woman behind here" and it was kind of frightening. The door opened and this big woman opened the door, she was wearing a robe but she had big cans, and invited me in. She smiled and told me that she was glad I could come. She was cute, her hair was short and dark but she was definitely too big to interest me. I noticed that Tim was there watching TV but unaware of my presence. I told the woman that I had an earlier dream, or a dream within this dream that was even more vaguely recalled, about here where she looked like a female kingpin (from Daredevil and Spiderman comics/cartoons) in a swimming pool. When I looked at her again, I noticed she had sideburns. Staring harder, I saw the sideburns became a thin beard. My stomach twisted but I decided to be nice and see what the heck was going on. The rest of the dream was about me sitting in that motel room for hours while the big woman went upstairs and downstairs looking for the attic because she wanted to show me something that she could not find. By this time I couldn't care less or remember what happened in the earlier part of my dream even though there was something nudging me to follow through with the previous dream. Things faded away around there. 12/29/00 I screwed up but I fixed it. I mistakenly made yesterday's entry for 12/28/00 into 12/29/00 but all is well and I reckon no one will notice. I went into the city, walked around looking for someplace to sit down for a few hours and socialize but I ended up going over the same paths I usually take in NYC. Tried to get noticed on one of the various web cams that dot New York City but that didn't exactly work out. I came upon a game of three card monty and I wanted to take a picture but they were real dickheads about not letting me so I decided to sic the cops on them. Fuck you, spooks. One of the lovely things I did catch on my digital camera, and it pales in comparison on my camera than it did in my eye, was seeing the moon so close to Venus. For a second, because my time was screwed up and I thought it was much later than it was, I thought Venus was Jupiter. I did think about leaving MOO for a month and only updating this diary once a week on the train ride home but that was sleepy_spivak talking and sometimes sleepy_spivak is more irritating than diary_spivak but sleepy_spivak does have his good qualities like always wanting to grope, fondle and snuggle but he tends to be overtired which heightens the whole drama bit that comes with being overtired (and being recursive when writing). Personal Diary Entry 12/30/00 It snowed a lot today, I slept through most of it because I was awake until six and I woke up at five. Go figure. My father said it was coming down so thickly that he couldn't see forty feet in front of him. He left to open his shop at seven and came home at nine because it was coming down so very hard. His car looks like it wasn't even moved because the snow is heaped so heavily upon it. Looks like eighteen more snowfalls and there is more snow yet to come tomorrow according to what I read on Yahoo weather last night. The rest of the forecast for the week sounds a bit lame with snow showers and whatnot. Anyway, here are some pics of the biggest snowfall we've had in a bunch of years. In my arrogance, I'm taking the return of snow to be a good omen for me since it's showing that my life is going better with good things in store. This picture was taken in the first hour of the snowfall around 5 a.m. As for NYE, I have no plans, no one to hang out with and nothing to do other than the usual. New Year's Eve Bless you. I will be thinking of all of you at midnight. I don't want any dead friends because it'll make me sad.