Deep into the Madness

I had the most peculiar dream last night. I dreampt that my mom and I were at an auto lot, and I had brought in that old Ford Taurus which my mom had sold to me, that I had gotten tags for, and that I had to leave to rot until when I finally was about to get a license and have a car, it was undrivable. I mentioned to my mom that this thing wasn't worth $4,500, but hell, it was coming out of my taxes anyway, so I might as well get the money back. I was, of course, talking of Cash for Clunkers, which is exactly how I traded it in. I got a Mercury something, and it was fairly affordable with my share of the clunkers money. My mom had asked me why I said it was my money, and I explained how the money for the program came out of our taxes and was basically the redistribution of wealth, and how I was taking my share back. I drove off the lot and followed my mom back to, strangely enough, my dad's house.

Nick and Sasha were waiting there on the porch. Nick and Mom drove over to her house while I was to walk Sasha. After looking around to see if I could find my dad, who turned out to not be home, I walked Sasha down the street to my mom's old, rented house on Church Rd, which, in my dream, was her new house. When I got there she asked why I'd let Sasha walk there on her own, and presenting the rascal at the end of the leash I noted that I hadn't, that I'd just walked her. Nick and I played with her for a bit, then I went inside, where mom seemed a bit perplexed about having sworn she saw Sasha around before I got here. She showed me the house, which I haven't been to since she started working on it, and explained to me what they'd done, most of which I could point out, when, at one point as she passed the door, I saw what appeared to be my mom enter, this time instead of wearing a bright purple shirt she was wearing her snoopy hoodie and sunglasses. I looked and could see both of them, one still showing me around the house, the other slowly, ominously following her. The second one didn't look happy. I wondered if the house was haunted, if there really had been a second Sasha here earlier. I followed my mom around the house as she kept showing me the work they'd put into it, and the other of my mom kept following us, the same grimace on her face, never removing the sunglasses. When the tour was done I couldn't spot the sunglasses-wearing version of my mom, and Nick called me outside. He asked if I'd like to stay here for a while, that Mom had told him to ask me to stay a few days with her. I said sure, and I woke up.

Last I talked to my mom she didn't seem happy. It was Saturday night, I guess. I don't know what was bothering her, but it sounded unlike her. It wasn't like when I talk to my dad and he sounds unhappy...it was more urgent than that. She insisted nothing was wrong, but I guess I've been kind of worried.

A song popped into my head while we were standing around the kitchen as Jason was cooking. It went a little like this:

Books, books, they're good for your brain
The more you read, the more knowledge you gain
The more knowledge you gain, the smarter you are
So visit your library near or far

The song stems from back in the day, when I was in 1st grade or something. My mom and I came up with it for some contest the library was doing, and it won. I don't remember what I won, but I was so happy. My mom said that, that I was so happy. Y'know, I really was.

It makes me think of something I saw on PostSecret a but ago. It said this:

When I was 7, I wanted to grow up to be a Ghostbuster.
[ photograph of a man, presumably a ghostbuster ]
Now, I want to grow up to be as happy as I was when I was 7.

Y'know, there's a lot of truth to that. I've been thinking about it a lot lately, about what I'm going to do with my life, about happiness. About contentment. About stagnancy and compliance, and about letting the world turn without me for a while. I just don't know...graduation is quickly approaching, and I still don't have any plans. Nothing at all.

Part of me wants to give up, to move back to Jersey and find a job there, and live near my family, near the familiar places, the familiar people, and just live a modest, but maybe happy life. Part of me dreads it. That part wants to go back there only when I have to, and to be a lone pillar in the wind-scarred plains of the world. To be that interesting person, like my Uncle Russel is, the only one of my close relatives to move out of the state, to North Carolina. He opened an architect firm, found a loving wife, and has two successful children. I have seen him maybe four times in my entire life.

The funny thing is, the song popped into my head in the first place because of the beans Jason was pouring into the pot.

It all started a couple of days ago, on my Grandmom's birthday. I called her that evening, as it was a Friday and I worked in the morning and then had class. I called around 6 when I got home. She was between casinos, as my grandmom often is. I asked her how her day was, and she said it was all okay except for one thing that made her so happy; my brother surprised her with a visit that morning. Drove up there himself in my dad's car, even brought flowers. They sat for an hour and talked and had coffee, then he left.

Two things happened in me at once upon hearing this. I was very proud of my brother, of how mature and independent he was becoming, that he'd think to do that and that he'd make our grandmom so happy. But at the same time, I felt like I was unable to do the same, in indeed I am. Even if I had managed to get off of work, skip class and pay for train tickets home, I'd've never managed to get to my grandmom's house alone, and in fact I've only ever spoken to her one on one once. My grandfather even less than that. They are both people I admire and respect, and I don't know how much longer I have with them. Those three naive, childish words rung through my mind, "It's not fair."

I suppose that's very human. I don't like it though. By now, my calloused bitterness towards the world should have extended to such petty, idealistic concepts as fairness. Apparently it hasn't though. I guess it's still mostly focused on women and relationships.

Fast forward to yesterday, I get an email from my boss. Marshall can't work Saturday the 8th, as he has a family function to attend. Nestor is out the country. It is also the day of a big religious ceremony she's been working up to, and she, for obvious reasons, cannot come in. "Sure," I replied, "I can work that day. Don't worry about it." Needless to say she was grateful, but I really didn't care. It's not like I do anything on the weekends anyway.

And then the culmination. It's arranged like a story. My mom is talking to me, telling me she misses me and that I should come home. I responded as I always do, that I miss everyone and that I wish I could come home more often. It's rehearsed, but it's in earnest. Then she tells me she's serious, I should come home next weekend for my Grandfather's birthday. It's the weekend I agreed to work. 'Shit,' I think, 'I have to work. Maybe if it's Sunday...' but no, his birthday is the 8th. The day I agreed to work. The day when there was no alternative to me working, because heaven forbid someone else at this school learn how to operate the Testing Center. Motherfucker. My mind is frantic, not for any real reason I can discern. There is no emergency. It's two weeks in the future, there's not even a time pressure. I start finding ways to make it happen. I'd talk to Milo, I'd get the Testing Center closed. I'd take a train Friday night, after class, and make it home by nightfall. I'd find the money somehow, I'd ask my dad for it if I had to. I'd be there. It was the most important thing in the world. It was the pinnacle of my existence, the only purpose I had in life. Anything and everything else could be lost, discarded or destroyed in the process should the need arise.

And then my mom told me to calm down, that it was silly of her to suggest it, that she understood, that everyone would understand. They'd understand that I can't. That I am unable.

There's not a lot that really gets to me anymore, there's not much people can say or do to really bother me. Jason tried, God knows he throws everything he has into it, but he's never managed. And that alone, have a dedicated source of attempts without a single success, that says it all. But...but this did. I can't be there. I don't have the money, I don't have the means, and I have other responsibilities. It was almost crushing.

Why? Was it some competitive instinct to show up my brother by surprising my grandfather with my presence only a few weeks later and from much farther away? Maybe, maybe, but I doubt it. I don't hold my brother in contempt, I don't feel any need to compete with him. It may have been part of it, but it wasn't the cause. Was it then some fear of not seeing him again? Of relinquishing my last chance and living with regret? No, no, while it's true that I fear that, I don't think that was it. I think it was the inability. The inadequacy. The same feeling I get when I have to bum a ride with someone, because if I don't I can't go to where I need to be. The fact that I'm not self-sufficient. The feeling which drives me to try and get a license, despite my clear lack of resources to even consider getting a car. It's this horrible frustration, an uphill battle which I cannot hope to win anytime soon, but I cannot back away from.

I'm sick of it, I really am. I don't know where to go from here, but fuck if I'm staying where I am. I guess I'll go get a permit this weekend, sit on it for a month and try for my license. Fat lot of good it'll do me, but it can't hurt. What else to do? I really can't say. I guess I'll come up with something. As I have said before and firmly believe, it is not only foolish to accept a bad situation, but it is unethical to not attempt to better yourself.

Well, it's been a week since I've been here (longer, actually, a week was last night) and I've gotta say, I've been having a great time with friends and family. I call these folks "the best people ever" for a reason. They are. Sorry all of you guys who aren't them.

In a nutshell: I've played several games of Warhammer with my (apparently pretty awesome with the addition of the Flesh Hounds) Daemons army, which has kicked ass, winning both full games it's been in (one with Brett's Warriors of Chaos as an ally against Mike, one just Mike and I), although it did lose a small (200 pt) story-driven skirmish game Brett and I played. I've been here and there, but not nowhere besides my dad's house, my mom's houses (both new and current), Sara's place, Brett's place and Wawa, and of course all roadways in between. We took my dad out for Father's Day to Sakura's, although the first debit card I handed them was denied...but at least the second worked. We had Father's Day brunch with my mom's family, and tomorrow a similar bunch will be at Nick's Graduation Party. I've been generally relaxed and happy.

The biggest thing I hoped to accomplish coming home was to find the answers. I didn't even know to what at first, I just knew there was something I needed to know. Ever get that feeling? Well, turns out I need to know what I want to do with myself, how I want to end up. And I have a whole week ahead of me (more actually) to decide. So, here's to hoping that goes well.

Now to stop wasting time writing about life on the internet and, instead, start living it.

My brother and I were talking last night. It seems he and I are a lot alike. It's kind of a shame though, because I know what he's going through and that it sucks. With any luck one of us will find the answer, and then we'll be able to tell the other. Hopefully.

It's raining. It's been raining. Rain rain rain. Last night, I rode my bike home in the rain. I saw a turtle, a big one, who was, unfortunately, on the sidewalk, and I had to hope the curb to avoid him.

It was pouring.

I was riding a narrow bit of sidewalk, fence on one side, shrubs on the other, enough space for a person to step off, but not nearly enough for a bike. My glasses we covered in water and unusable, and my eyes are almost useless on their own. I had my bike's headlight on, as always at night. I could see maybe 20 feet in front of me. I passed two people who'd been walking the other way at different point along this stretch, and both of them easily saw me coming and stepped aside to let me pass before I'd even seen them. I thanked them both.

I was almost out of the stretch when I see, over my glasses, in the pouring rain, a woman walking towards me. Shit. I shouted something like "hey" or "watch out," hoping they'd move, and I hit the breaks. The wet, useless breaks which didn't slow me down at all. She hasn't moved either, so I do all I can to minimize the damage - I swerved enough to the right to only hit her with the handlebar. It hit her arm, I went careening off like I knew I would, she got knocked back but was still on her feet. I know how to hit a person almost as well as I know how to fall. I managed to keep control and stop the bike a couple feet past her. I, without getting off, asked "Are you alright?" She said "NO!" in that infuriating way women say "no" which means "yes, physically, but I'm pissed." I told her "I'm sorry, you should have moved" and rode off.

I mean, I had a fucking headlight. There is no way you could've not seen me coming. If you had a light on your head, I'd've seen you too! I've never hit a car. They have headlights, and I can see them. But you didn't, so I didn't. And I was *this close* to calling her a stupid bitch. But I didn't, the master of self-control I am.

I made it home, soaked from the rain, changed, got a call from Hannah, and hit the sack.

While I was on the train last night I had an interesting cocktail of thoughts in my overflowing brain, a combination of the people around me, the music I was listening to, the places I'd just been, and my severe sleep deprivation. You see, I'd just been to New Jersey for the weekend. As it happens, I got in Friday night and crashed, Saturday I went out with my mom and grandparents to breakfast, then saw my mom's house (she bought a house, I think I've mentioned that), then had dinner with my dad, then went over to Brett's to chill with him, Mike and Sara. Although I should have stayed there until only 10 or so to ensure I got enough sleep for Sunday, I stayed until midnight, and it was well worth it. I miss those guys. Sunday I got up at 4 to go to Dover for the Nascar race, and then I boarded a train in Wilmington. The race was very good, and I enjoyed spending time with my dad.

But onto the meaninglessness that I thought during the train ride home...

---
It's been months since I've even heard from you, and I know you don't have the time for me. I know you're a mother now, a mother to no doubt the most beautiful child on this Earth. I don't know if you're happy, but I hope you are. I don't know if you're healthy, if you're well, if you're satisfied, if you have enough, if you need, but I pray for you every night, like I have for years, and I'm sure that helps. I just wish I could know.

Life is a lot like this train...I'm speeding forward but facing backward, I only vaguely know where I'm going, and once I get there I don't really know what I'm going to do. I already miss where I'm coming from, the people there, and I doubt any amount of distance will make that stop.
---

I almost just threw that part out, but I guess it really does summarize how I've been feeling for a while.

A few days ago, I'd had it. Just had it. The ASB had been doing nothing at all for weeks, and I was gonna get this moving - with or without regular meetings. So, as I'd discussed (briefly, but discussed) with the only other attending member at our last meeting, I began looking for an artist to commission for our logo. Now, I'm sure I could have punched into Google "logo commission artist" or something, but instead I decided to go with someone I knew was good at digital art, and someone I was confident would make an awesome logo with the tiny tiny tiny amount of description I would be able to provide: Sara. And this was sound reasoning: the logos she's made are fantastic. But now I've got this horrible feeling regarding what they say about involving friends in business - y'see, I don't know how much artists charge for commissions, and I'm not about to commission a friend on expected grace. Not to say that I don't think they wouldn't just do me a favor, but I wouldn't ask. Anyway, I don't know what artists usually charge for commissions, and so I asked what she thought was fair...and she said she didn't know either. So, I looked around online and found a pretty consistent number, and made an offer to match - thing is, I'm now kinda worried it was...like...insultingly low or something. I mean, I really don't know the slightest thing about it. Also there's the whole legal mess...ugh. But hopefully she'd tell me if I was being a jerk...

Oh, and on top of that worry, I already feel I'm screwing her and Mike over, not just because I can't make their engagement party next weekend, but because on top of that I'm going back to New Jersey this weekend.

I mean, I can only afford to come home because my dad's paying for the tickets because he really wants me to come with he and his brother to Dover for the Nascar race, but still...I feel like I'm being a giant cunt. If I made a little more than piss I could probably do it, but having to spend around $100 in a month to go home for summer, I really can't afford it.

...and no matter how true that continues to be, it still feels like an excuse.

I just feel so backwards.

Here's a quick summary of how today has been, entirely in recent events: I discovered that we don't have the correct assortment of ingredients for pasta and meatballs, which I planned to cook tonight, as we only have on thing of pasta sauce and no meat, and a car alarm across the street has been going off continuously for the past five minutes. Pretty shitty.

It's not that anything in particular has been wrong, it's just that I've felt really shitty all day. I can't really say why. Just kinda depressed, y'know?

Called Mom up to wish her a happy mother's day, and she was telling me about this car she was looking at for Nick. A '94 Ford Focus (I think) with 1500 miles on it, asking $1500. Not too bad, I guess. She hadn't gotten it yet, but the price is right and it seems good enough. Hopefully it will go/went through. Then I can finally claim some peace-of-mind knowing my brother wasn't blatantly and purposelessly denied a crucial factor in his future business and social life.

Oh yes, it seems she learned from me how much people actually need cars nowadays. At least someone benefited from it, and I admit if one of us had to go without, I'd have it be me and not him. He'll need it more that I do anyway...and by that I mean Stevens Institute doesn't have local mass transit.

Still, it reminds me again of the apparent catch-22 I'm facing when it comes to transportation: I can't get a license unless I know how to drive (and can pass the test), I can't learn to drive without a car to practice in, and I can't buy a car without a license. I haven't driven anything in over two years, and the roads here are so different than the ones back home that I don't know if I'd know how to drive on them correctly anyway. Couple that with the expenses associated to car ownership, mostly insurance and monthly payments on the car itself, and it seems like an impossibility. And then imagine any repairs it could need...ugh. It's like trying to scale a mountain without arms or legs.

So it looks like I'll forever be awkward when it comes to relationships and inept when it comes to interviews because I'll have to tell her "I'll need you to pick me up" and them "well, if it's metro-accessible." Wouldn't be the first job I'd lost to it, and I would wager I'd have had at least one more relationship, for better or worse, had I the ability to drive.

Time to take the pasta off the burner and try to only take half the usual amount of sauce...

...recording in this journal, that is. The past weekend I would not have missed to prolong the existence of the world itself, for no good could come from prolonging the life of a miserable world without friends.

And that brings me to this past weekend.

I went home Thursday morning, barely catching every train on the way there and being rerouted to a bus for the last leg of the journey, which, in all, made for a miserable and stressful trip. Keep in mind the three days before that I had spent working/class 10-9, so I was exhausted before I even boarded the metro.

When I arrived in AC, amid some confusion caused by the whole "bus" thing, Mom picked me up and brought me along with her to Atlantic City High School, where she had to report to her boss about...something. In that time I met some of the people she works with, mostly a man named Nick, manager of ACHS as it seemed to me, and once she was done there we went on to a house near the Hamilton Mall which her Realtor had just informed her of. We looked at the place, and it was very eh. We ended up going back to her place, Sasha and Kevin were out on a walk so I just rested for a while until Smosh got back so I could play with her, then we went out to dinner at the Buck Tavern and I went to Dad's.

Nick and Dad had been gone that day, to Steven's Institute in Hoboken, the school my brother has since decided to attend. This decision is not only because of their excellent program, but also due to their shoving upwards of $30,000 down his throat, a grand, loan and scholarship cocktail most welcome considering it is near the most expensive school in New Jersey.

That night Brett, Mike and Sara came by my place, we hung out until later than I should have been up, and I was out when I hit the mattress.

The next morning, earlier than I should have been up, Nick woke me to a breakfast he'd been making, scrambled eggs, sausage and cheese in soft taco shells to form a delicious breakfast wrap. Or maybe it was waffles. Either way, the other was made the next day. That morning we were supposed to go out shopping with my mom, but I got a call around when she was going to pick us up saying she was dizzy and couldn't go. She sounded like hell. After a bit of nervous waiting I decided to walk over there, and upon our arrival the house appeared vacant. The doors were locked, but the key was in the usual place and I let myself in while Nick played with Sasha. I didn't see anyone anywhere, and the door to mom's bedroom was closed, so I figured I wouldn't bother her. I joined Nick and Sasha until a minute later the door opened and the weakly standing figure of my mother appeared, disappearing again after seeing me and not saying a word. I ran to the door to find her shambling back to the couch, and helped as best I could. She looked like I feel when I have a migraine. She said Sasha needed food and water, and that she'd taken a pill and should feel better eventually. I did what I could to help her, told her to call me when she felt better and we left. It was a depressing sight.

Nick and I decided that, since we weren't going to be out for lunch, the only logical solution to the problem was to make a Wawa run, or walk really. I needed coffee and delicious Wawa food. Apparently Sara spotted us on the way there from a passing car we didn't see. I was told this later. By the time we had eaten and hung out for a while, my mom called me saying she was alright, and we headed out. We got back in time for dinner, and helped my dad make lasagna, then Brett and I went over to Sara's.

When we got there, it was decided that we would go to a party one of her friends was having. I ended up the 20-year-old at the Highschooler's Party. Go figure. But a party it was, with plenty of smoking (all of it tobacco, to my knowledge) and drinking, including a particularly repulsive tasting alcoholic energy drink. Brett and I played for Call of Duty, World at War and Mike and I had quite a long talk about literally everything in existence and a few abstract concepts. One of which being his and Sara's wedding. It is planned for Summer 2010, and he asked me to be the best man.

He asked me to be the best man.

I didn't know what to say, except of course that I would more than gladly take the position. I was and am honored that he'd choose me for it, and I'm really pumped. Sara was just as excited, and ended up falling over in my direction out of excitement when she heard. The next day we told her again, as she really didn't remember a thing. Brett and I ended up leaving the party at around 12:30, and I again was done before I hit the bed.

The next morning Nick awoke me and made the breakfast mentioned above which he had not made the day before, which I am now inclined to say was the breakfast wraps, and we then went out with Mom to visit our grandparents and have lunch with them at a Longhorn Steakhouse, which, much to my chagrin, was across the street from an accursed Bob Evans, but despite this was pretty good. I was glad to see my grandparents, although my grandfather had recently fallen and had scraped himself up pretty nicely. I hope he heals quickly.

That night I went over to Mike and Sara's for a while, during which time they did their homework, which I am envious of as it was all drawing and painting, then got back in time for dinner with my dad, then Brett came over to watch some anime named "Black Lagoon" which was actually pretty good. I got to sleep around 1:00 AM.

Easter morning my dad made french toast, then we went to mass with my mom. We got back and prepared and ate Easter Dinner with both of my uncles, lamb and mint jelly, asparagus, sweet potatoes and dinner rolls with a glass of, quite predictably, Turning Leaf Merlot. It was a fantastic meal.

That night I went over the Mike and Sara's again, with Brett this time, and we hung out until Brett left at 11:30 and Mike brought me back at 12:30.

My dad woke me the next morning, and, with a heavy heart, I ended up back in Virginia. I do miss my friends and family, quite a bit actually. I am lucky to have found such a wonderful group of people to surround myself with, and I wish it were possible to see them more often. But, I guess it is only a few short months until summer.

I did a small experiment today. I decided to try talking to Tom in an IM without using the backspace key, to see my real accuracy and how often I use it. Apparently, I use it a lot. A whole lot. It was atrocious, and I abandoned the experiment within five minutes. Interesting though, that I can still type so quickly even with correcting the huge number of errors which commonly occur.

Been feeling lonely still, but not nearly as much as before. Mostly because all other emotions have been replaced by stress. Which is no fun. I'm stressed out of my ears with school work, work, ASB stuff, and going home. Mostly the twin research papers of doom I need to do tonight and tomorrow, maybe Thursday on the train. Looking forward to seeing everyone and getting my brain scrambled while back in Jersey. Looking forward to not sleeping, not having enough time and feeling like I didn't really do enough of anything because I did too much of everything while I was there. That horrible almost-regret when leaving, thinking "man, I shoulda spent more time with them..." or "I wish I had done that..." but knowing deep down I'd done more than I should've and pushed myself harder than is reasonable to spend as much time with as many people as possible.

And I'm looking forward to playing with Sasha! She's so cute!!!

...oh poop, I still need to do research papers. I was on a roll with one, and I think I finally broke my writer's block! *win* so hopefully, when I get time, I can write. What was time again...?

In the brilliant words of an unnamed time-traveler, "Peanutbutter jelly time, horse porn."

I did it, just now actually. And it kinda felt like I thought losing a mans would. That's right, I asked my dad for money. Only $20, and all I need it for is to pull the balance up just enough to pay the water bill. Once I get reimbursed for last month I'll be stable again, assuming over $600 in utilities bill don't show up this month. Anyway, as depressing as it is, the bills will be paid, and hopefully that will never happen again.

I beat Penumbra today, and I really really really wish I had an extra $20 in the bank for the sequel, but I can't even pay the bills at this point and I plan on buying my $3 McDonalds lunch in quarters tomorrow, so that's how it's gonna happen. Maybe in two weeks when I get paid I'll get it. Or maybe I can use that DeVry Legacy of Service card on it...hmm.

Anyway, I'll post a review tomorrow. It was fantastic though. Buy it.

That will be all.

I'd been reading a webcomic Jason showed me, Geist Panik, for a while, and the other day it had an ad on the side for another webcomic which looked interesting. This one is called Girly, and although I cannot recommend it based on my jaded moral code, I can mention that it is incredibly funny, has an interesting plot and is about lesbians. I've read around the first 500 in the past three days, and will have the series finished by the weekend I'm sure, so if you're interested in something with a nice style of art, good sense of humor, and lesbians check it out. Come to think of it, it's kinda something Sovey might like...

It's a ray gun! Pyew pyew!

In addition, I've been coding like a sane man. Which is in direct opposition to my usual, madman coding style. I don't like it as well, but I can't get really into it. I need to feel the coffee in my veins, the syntax in my thoughts and the logic in my soul again. But this weekend is all about the heart.

Yes, Valentine's Day, the yearly ritual of spending too much on someone who will one day tear your third most vital organ from between your ribs, severing the lungs on the way past, throw it into the middle of the nearest four-way intersection and laugh in your face as it gets run over by a semi. And if you're lucky that's all she'll do.

But excuse my bitterness. This weekend Hannah'll be coming over, which I'm looking forward to because, despite my ingrown bitterness and hatred for everything, I am quite fond of her and am doing my best to trust her to not do exactly what I described above. So, we'll be spending the weekend of love at Tyson's Corner or in my bedroom (oh dear, how very inappropriate of me), where we'll eat, watch movies and...never you mind. It should be enjoyable, and I do look forward to actually seeing her in person again. Long distance relationships suck, but that's how life is I guess. Sucky.

Speaking of sucky, the copy of The Orange Box I got my brother didn't have a CD Key in it. Ballsack. Hair ballsack. So that's a bitch and a quarter.

I've been pretty glum lately. Time to go nom a cheezburger.

I had the weirdest night last night. I had a series of dreams, each including only one other person, one for each of my closest friends and family members. They were all bizarre and slightly disturbing. Sometimes there were other people, but they never spoke and were almost flat. I only remember two, my mother's and Mike Wheeler's, but I know I also had one for Nick, Dad, Brett, Sara and Hannah. The rest have been coming back to me, and I'm updating this with them as they do.

In my mom's we lived in an old, haunted house, and my mom was Jewish. She was teaching me Jewish traditions, and every time she left the room something would happen; doors would open or close, cabinets open and shut, things float and fall, etc. She would never believe me that it was happening. The only light was candles, and sometimes they'd burn out and relight themselves. Weird.

Then the other dream I remember, involving Mike, he and I were out back of my dad's house. I don't remember what we were doing, talking about Warhammer or something, when I got a call. The first one was about me owing Games Workshop $200 for the Zoidberg I had apparently gotten. Then I got another call, in which a soft, singing voice sang a horribly disturbing song to me about how I was never going to see anyone I loved again.

The last dream I remember anything of was with Nick: I walked to the Wawa down the street from my dad's, Nick was gonna catch up. It was huge. They had all manner of things. I went to get up both coffee, getting him a bigger cup than me, but once I filled them I noticed the cups were slanted, and I couldn't put a lid on one without the other falling over and spilling. Nick came and took one and we put a lid on both, but I'd already made quite a mess. We walked past a watermelon display and checked out.

I remember briefly Sara's too...something in a parking garage with a large, rubber-like ladder which I couldn't climb because I was too heavy. It was weird.

I just remembered a bit of Hannah's: I was talking to her on the phone, laying on an unfamiliar bed. She said she could come over, but her mom wanted money for gas and for the shot (injection). I asked what kind of shot, but before she answered we got cut off. She then showed up and her mom asked for $300, which was way more than I had. Because I didn't have it she had to leave...and noone would tell me what the shot was for or why it was so expensive.

After each dream I awoke to an unfamiliar room, my phone on my dresser (which is bizarre because I don't recall getting up). When my alarm finally woke me from Mike's dream (in the middle of the song even), my phone was back on my nightstand and everything was again normal. Or normalish. I've been in a strange mindset ever since...my legs feel like air and my mind is floating. I can't really focus. It's a little frightening.

Got paid today and I realized it was less than I counted on because DeVry was closed two days the other week. Dammit. So it was around $100 less than I hoped for. Money is still tight...I never realized how easily destroyed my small financial stronghold was.

And now I see the walls crumbling. I need out. I need to run somewhere, and the only place I really want to go is Winchester. Screw it.

I talked to Nick last night, who informed me that Mom and Kevin had gotten into a fight, and he was staying with Dad for just a little longer. So I called her up to see what was going on. I'd first heard of them having problems back over Thanksgiving break when I asked her if they were ever going to actually get married; she said no. Apparently he'd been getting back into his old habits, i.e. drinking. He'd been sober for years and years, but she caught him drunk one day, and she was none-too-pleased (and with good cause). She'd told him that if it happened again she'd want nothing to do with him, and so it came as little surprise to me that when he came home after drinking yesterday, she kicked him out. Apparently he left on "mutual terms," which I guess is good, but mom's said she's going to pack up his things and give them to him today, and that'll be the end of that.

So, I'm a little worried about her. I know what it's like to lose someone you really cared about, and I understand her position and that she has no other choice. God knows what else Kevin'd do if he started drinking again, and Mom really doesn't want to find out (and, personally, I don't want her to). Anyway, she'll be talking to me on the webcam tonight, which I look forward to. I wish I'd been home for just a few more days, I'm sure she could use me around there, just chilling, and I really wish I could be there for her.

And a sick part of myself is laughing...

Kinda down at the moment, so I'm gonna recap the last couple of days, then do something else.

Saturday we went and played paintball. "We" should have been Brett, Mike, Sara and I, but instead it was one Brett down due to a mysterious later-vanishing illness which overcame him that morning, but not strong enough to keep him from Jester's that night. Anyway, we went to a place in Hammanton which had two outdoor courses and an indoor one. Mike and I played one game on the outdoor course, but the teams were too big and filled with rapidfire assholes, so we went inside for some small, two-on-one games. I rocked Mike and Sara, eventually being the sole one against their two - and winning all but one game!

For dinner that night we had Shnitz und Neip, a German/Pennsylvania dutch meal, which consists of Ham Hocks, Apples (Shnitz) and dumplings. My two uncles came, and we had a nice family meal. It was pretty nice.

That night we took a trip out to Best Buy for Sara, and then stopped at Jester's to harass Brett. After that we all hung out and stuff.

Sunday started with my mom picking us up. We chilled with the smosh for a while, then went to Vineland for breakfast with the grandparents. After that we went back home, installed her webcam, and went back to dad's.

Nick and I jammed for a while, and it rocked. Then Dad got home and we took down the tree, nogged and had dinner, leftovers.

After that I summoned Brett, Mike and Sara. They came, they saw, and Mike and Sara got into a fight which I saw coming a week and a half ago. It ended with Sara walking home (Brett was sent to get her because Mike speculated that she'd not enter his car, a safe bet by what I saw) and Mike came in. I talked to him for a while, calmed him down and gave him some advice, the most prominent of which was to try to listen and understand Sara's situation. Then Brett and Sara came back, Brett initiated funny pictures and I escaped down to my room to find Sara crying. We talked for a while, and I gave her some advice too, mostly about getting over trust issues (and I don't intend to make that sound easy, it really isn't) and communicating better with Mike. I hope things go well with them. I pray for 'em, I really do. After she was calmed down and her and Mike made up we went to Pizza Hut for some unneeded but surely welcome eats.

After that I got in and called Hannah, but I only managed to talk for around 15 minutes before I fell asleep, and I know it really upset her. Rightfully so, too; I've been so exhausted the past two weeks that I haven't been talking to her much at all. It's kinda had me down all day.

Oh, I'm back in VA, sitting at my base. This new desk chair is friggen awesome, comfortable as anything and NOT broken, which is nice. I have plenty to clean, unpack and move though, so I'll be doing not-much-more sitting. Time for work. I can't wait to call Hannah tonight...I can't wait to see her this weekend either.

I've been feeling better the past few days, which has led to much more activity. Here's what stands out of the blur of insanity which has comprised my life:

We went to dinner on New Year's Eve with Grandmom and Grandpop, my Uncle Ronnie and Aunt Julie were also present, at some fancy place on Rout 40 in Vineland. The meal took an excruciating hour and a half to conclude, the food was alright, the company was good, and on of the bus boys looked exactly like Brett, but he was black. Weird. After dinner that night, I went over to Sara's for her New Year's party, which disappointingly noone but the usual crowd attended, yet hanging out with Brett, Mike and Sara is always good, and I think we all had a good time regardless. The power went out for a while, but when it sprung back on all was good, and in the time it was out we had fun anyway.

Brett, Nick and I had a Warhammer game, Brett and I vs Nick at 2000 pts a side, Brett fielding his Warriors of Chaos army. We rocked Nick, even though he used a lord choice and we didn't. His face almost fell clean off we rocked him so hard, I mean really. Two and a half turns and he was done. My flamers proved as effective as before, eliminating almost an entire unit each time they shot (they reduced his lord on abyssal horror to a lord on foot with one wound left in one round of shooting), my daemonettes were effective in combat, tearing through the ranks of his zombies like a hot knife through butter, and my horrors kinda didn't do too much, aside from sling spells which were, of themselves, pretty good. I found that a Herald of Tzeentch can take a gift which lets him know an entire lore of magic from the Warhammer Rule Book, and of them the most beneficial might be the Lore of Metal, which allows me to turn an opponent's armor against them.

Last night the guys were over, we hung out and painted. My flamers are almost completely painted, two left, and I've only done one of them. Nick is still going to paint one for me. And when they're done, the whole army will be painted! Right now the flamers look a little crazy, but I like it...that part of my army reflects my friends, some of the closest people to me. And it being a little crazy only fits in that case. In addition to painting last night we sat around the living room talking and stuff last night, and in that time Sara farted on Brett, which was pretty funny and decently foul smelling, we saw who could drag Brett and I around the floor, for the record I could budge Brett pretty easily, and we took turns moping in Brett's moping chair...Nick was pretty good at it.

I'm gonna miss these guys...but I can already feel this happiness slipping away, like all happiness does. That's life, right? The time we have with those we care about is always too short, and life doesn't care either way. It's like a roller coaster; you wait in line, standing in the hot sun with nothing to do and no place to sit, uncomfortable, slowly shuffling towards something you'll enjoy, and then when you get there it is a great thrill, but it only last 3.5 seconds before it's over. And my ride is right now on the final turn.

We're going paintballing tomorrow, which I'm looking forward to. Let's end this with a bang!

I had the most bizarre, frightening episode tonight. I found myself in the bathroom, and I don't remember getting there. I don't know what I had to do, but it was something with duplicating the room or something, something impossible and completely irrational. Then I opened the door and I saw this...thing. It was grey, it was about 4 and 1/2 feet tall, and it was just legs and a belly. It didn't have feet, just stubs. It walked down towards my room. The next thing I remember, I was at the corner of the hall and Dad was holding my shoulders, keeping me steady. I was looking around wide-eyed and I saw it come back. I cringed, but then I noticed something more horrifying than the creature: My dad didn't see it. I hate that feeling. I still saw it, it was still there and very real to me, but I knew then that it was not real, that I was not right in the head because I was seeing something horrible walking around the house which didn't really exist. Dad sat me down on his bed and asked me some questions, if I'd been doing any drugs, if I had taken too many Motrin, what. He realized I was delusional, and he told me that. I knew it. And I hated it. I've been there before...I called it "The Madness," and I knew I was not right then either. It's a terrible feeling, it really is. He got my calmed down, and then we sat in the living room and talked for a while until I got back to normal again.

I said something then, something which I hate to say. I said "I'm not crazy." I hate saying that, because I'm never sure just who I'm trying to convince when I say it.

I think I was still part asleep. It's happened before. Dad suggested it is a sleep disorder or something, and I hope we don't look into it. It happens once a year, if that. I can deal with it. I don't need people telling me I'm crazy. I worry enough about that as-is.

I been busy as crap. First, let's start with what I got for Christmas: I got a new camera (sweet) which I really wanted, a bunch of awesome t-shirts, a waffle maker just like my dad has (really, really nice) and a copy of Maddox's book, The Alphabet of Manliness. Also, my mom got me a better book for my bass, my dad got me a new desk chair back before I came back, and Hannah got me something she won't give me until I see her again. A good haul indeed. Thanks to everyone who got me stuff.

Christmas Day was busy as hell, just like always. I must have eaten 3 dinners and a breakfast, and afterward I was stuffed and tired. We went to Uncle Gerry's, then to Grandmom's, then to Aunt Jule and Uncle Bob's, then back home. Hannah and I talked for a while on the phone, then I passed out.

The day after Christmas my mom wanted to go out and do some "after-Christmas shopping," which is when she got me the bass book and I got some clothes I needed. Then we went to Vineland and my brother got a haircut (I dodged the bullet again) and I talked with Grandmom, one on one, which was nice. I like what she has to say, and I wish I had more opportunities to sit down and speak with her directly. But, all too soon, Mom and Nick got back and we chatted then booked. We watched White Christmas that night, and by the end of the movie I was shaking violently because of a fever. I was so cold, it was crazy. I had mild hysteria before the movie, which is always annoying, and I crashed right afterward. I called Hannah when I got to bed, and we talked for a while before she got me to sleep. She's too good to me sometimes. I woke at around 4:30 shaking again, and I texted with her for a while (I hope I didn't wake her), and finally paged my dad and got him to bring me some Motrin and water (I couldn't get myself out of bed, once the covers were off I was shaking too bad to stand).

I awoke again at around 10:30, and I think Nick woke me before that. We watched some Coupling, then Brett and Sara came over (Mike's in Baltimore with his grandparents). We sat around the table from 1 to 5 talking while Brett and I worked idly on Warhammer pieces.

Nick and I jammed somewhere in there, and it was nice, hopefully more soon. I'm still sick, feeling like crap.

I've been getting negative sleep these past couple of days. It seems when I come home I'm even busier than when I'm in VA. Speaking of, I've noticed that for the first time, I'm referring to my place in VA as "home" while I'm here. It made me think, I really am all about living on my own now. I do miss these guys though, and I'm stoked to be hanging with them. They're more fun than a barrel of fish.

We've been doing all kinds of things over the last few days, all of which blended together, so here's a recap in no order:

We went down to the pool hall to shoot a few games of pool, which was a lot of fun. We did teams, my team won once, much fun was had.

Mike and I played a game of Warhammer (first game we've played in forever), and it was my first game with my Daemons of Chaos army. I lost, horribly. It was mostly because of his Cold One Knights and the magic standard they had which gave them the Always Strikes First rule, which I was not counting on when I sent my Daemonettes up against them. Had it not been for that rule, I think it would've gone far better for me. Like, I may have even won. That aside, everything performed as expected, and Daemons are so much fun to play. Especially the Daemonic Lore of Tzeentch: Random strength spells = win. My Heralds were as effective as expected, my Horrors sucked in combat just like I thought they would, my Flames kicked as much ass as I hoped (seriously, I got at least 20 shots a turn, they wiped out a unit a turn for me with fire-lightening, it was raw as hell) and instability works nicely in my favor and against me.

We all exchanged gifts already, and everyone seemed to like what I got them. Sara got me a really nice skillet, which I'm sure I'll use almost constantly and which will be way nicer than the warped pos skillet we have back there now, Mike got my a box of Daemonettes (nice!), and Brett got my the first Futurama movie.

We did a lot of just hanging out and being stupid. It was awesome. These guys are the best people ever. I just wish Hannah could be here, I know she'd fit right in and I'd love to be spending time with her. But we've been talking, and I'm looking forward to her opening what I got her tomorrow. I hope she likes it, and I hope we use it.

Finally, Nick built his new rig and we been jamming. It's awesome. That kid makes me so proud. Did I mention yet that he got a half-tuition scholarship to Drexel? Friggen nice!

Well, gotta go. Merry Christmas if I don't write again before then.

Yesterday was a loooonnnnggggg fucking day, but it was totally awesome and completely worth it. I got up at 6 to get showered and packed for going home. I had a very successful trip to the mall with my dad, achieving all but one objective, buying what I plan to for my brother, which I intend to complete tomorrow. Anyway, yesterday we left at 7, had breakfast at Moe's (down the street from my house, right across from the Red Roof Inn on Backlick road) and drove until we got home at around 11:30. We went to Wawa and and got lunch meat and coffee, then waited for Nick to get back from his programming competition he was at...apparently they lost. Anyway, we ate, Nick and I jammed for a while, then we went to Mom's and stayed for dinner. Sasha, the adorable scamp she is, managed to get out by breaking the fence and digging through the other, and fortunately the neighbors caught her or God knows what would have happened. When we got back to Dad's Nick began work on his PC, which is sweet by the way, and Brett, Mike and Sara dropped by. We hung out, worked on the PC, harassed me about my sexual performance and joked around until around 12:30 when I told them I was dead tired and they all left so I could sleep. I crashed so hard my face exploded, and I remembered that I have a hard time sleeping in that bed.

My ex IMed me the other day, Thursday I think. I was almost a little afraid to answer the IM, but I talked with her, and she said something I really needed to hear. She apologized for the break up, for making it drawn out and difficult. I'd already forgiven her for it, I don't hold a grudge, but it was good to hear. It was closure. And now, I feel like myself again. God damn that took forever. We the proceeded to talk about how life is treating us. She's having the kid in May, doesn't know if it's a boy or girl yet. She got a job at a movie theater (thank God she won't be stuck at Super Fresh forever), and she'll be married soon. Her and Edd are getting along great, which is very comforting to hear. I really hope the best for her.

And I really can't wait until Christmas, if for no other reason than to have Hannah open what I got her. I'm a little anxious about it, but I hope she likes and will use it. Oh, and Sara already told me she's getting me something I can't open in front of my dad (oh boy...). I wish Hannah were here to meet these guys, she'd love 'em and they'd love her. She'd fit right in here, and it'd be awesome.

Well, working on Warhammer with Brett today, so I better run.