Purring.

I'd lamented to my friend L online about my Mac OS X Tiger problems. While there's nothing more frustrating than to hear, "I didn't have any problems," he did me a solid by offering to lend me his Tiger install disk. He even met me halfway at a diner parking lot. Sounds tawdry, but it wasn't. It was more convenient for me because L lives in a very exclusive gated community in Brooklyn and you have to pass through some of the sketchier neighborhoods to get to it. Yeah, a chinese guy zipping around in a silver VW isn't conspicuous. I could always pretend I'm making deliveries and practice my engrish.

Long short, got the disk, re-installed and things are peachy.

I'm not so cavalier now though. I'm a little gun shy about installing Tiger on my laptop and am waiting on getting my Tiger disk replaced.

Broken Tiger

Unless you've been living under a rock, or don't care to peek out from behind the screen of your Windows PC, Macintosh OS X 10.4, codenamed Tiger was released today. I admit to being excited about it. It has been the media darling for the past few days leading up today. I waited for the 6 o'clock hour, the designated launch time, to strike and ultimately pass. I was still caught up with work. As soon as I could, I rushed out of work. After some prioritizing, I decided I needed a haircut first. Tiger had to wait.

Up to see Luigi at Astor Place.

Afterwards, I strolled down Broadway to Houston, made a right over to Greene. From the corner, I could see a mass of people standing on the other corner at Prince Street. It was a mob in front of and inside Apple SoHo. I was in no mood to wait as I doublebacked to the Broadway/Lafayette train station and took an F train up to Tekserve.

It was a mob scene there too, but much more celebratory with beer and a swing band playing. Infinitely cooler. Walking up to the counter was a breeze and I had my Tiger Family pack, in less than 15 minutes. Sweet.

But hold on.

Perhaps I should have gotten a clue, when the disk diagnostic gave me a second alert that there was a read problem with the disk as I was installing Tiger on my G5. Being rather cavalier and maverick about it, much to my chagrin, I punched the "Ignore and Continue" button. Don't punch the "Ignore and Continue" button. The last declaration from the installer was "Install failed, Try again." Not good.

The G5 functions, but its system is hobbled. Safari can't connect securely and the computer is running slowly, crippled and incomplete. This is what I get for being "bleeding edge." Neal will laugh at me, console me and laugh at me some more.

I'm fit to be tied. Tekserve's party closed at 10. I'm tempted to run to Apple, opened tonight till 12. Would they assist me even though I bought it from another establishment? I can't say, but I'm loathe to try. Can't reach anyone there by phone, a message reports, "The store is closed." I'd be REALLY angry if I jumped in AutoLove, drove into the city only to be refused.

Tomorrow, there is no opportunity to exchange for a new disk, soonest is Sunday.

So, now I have no choice but to wait.

Sigh.

Unintentional S.O.S.

Without meaning to, I sent out a psychic distress call yesterday, whereupon an increase in instances of "out of the blues" occurred. People were coming out of the woodworks, saying "what's up?", "how's it going?", in email and chat. Mind you, I'm not complaining, but it just seems too coincidental.

Strangely enough, lots of these OOTBs were phrased in the form of, "Where have you been?", "Why don't you write?" and "Where were you when I needed you?" Seeing as I don't have an unsarcastic bone in my body, it took all of my power to be polite and say, "I've been here all along." Really. Haven't gone anywhere. I did throw in "How are your hands? I figure they've been broken too, like mine. Wondering how they're healing."

I've assured everyone of my well-being and sanity, or rather a close facsimile of sanity. My social calendar has gone to inexplicably full for the next month or so. Going to have to be careful next time when I feel any strong emotions, may have to wrap my head in aluminum foil. Hopefully that won't amplify my thoughts, but it sure beats wearing my colander hat.

Sweet Reads

I'm not completely hating on the universe today. There are some bright points.

Go read Joe. So good, it hurts.

Corey's post reminded me that I had to pick up some books today.
X-Men Phoenix End Song #5
New Avengers #5
Age of Apocalypse #6
Ultimate Secret #2

Books from last week:
Wolverine #27
Uncanny X-Men #458
X-Men #169

An Open Letter to the Forces of the Universe

What the fuck are you thinking?

This year, you'd taken my friend Anne's mother, slowly and painfully and shortly after, taken the life of her uncle, suddenly. Death struck twice in her family, tested their mettle but the M Family stood strong. But now this, the tragic and senseless death of her sister-in-law, her brother M's wife, her 13 yr. old nephew's mother.

STOP THIS!

The M family has been nothing less than the bastion of good will, easing the pain of others in their times of loss. This is how they're repaid?

ENOUGH!

The M family has suffered too much at your whims.

I may not be the paragon of virtue, but I won't sit idly by while good people are made to suffer.
They are now under my karmic protection.

Backlash?

If you come at me, come at me strong and come at me direct. None of this pussy shit of coming through the one's I love, because you'll find my anger righteous and magnified ten fold. I've got an untapped reservoir of hate. Vengeance will be mine.

Consider yourselves warned.

*Yawn* Tuesday

Monday flew by with out incident and today is dragging, lulling me to sleep.

I'm fine.

A full mental diagnostic reveals everything appears to be in working order.
I'm not crying for no good reason, not listening to incredibly somber or depressing music.
I do feel a bit of the green-eyed monster lurking about the psyche but it's in check. Keeps poking at the containment field, looking for a weakness.

I'm upbeat.

I've got a few posts brewing in the noggin but not particularly inspired to finish them. They're bordering on negativity for which I don't have the energy or desire to feed them.
True, everything isn't sunshine and bunny rabbits, but as long as I believe it, why shouldn't it?

It's New Release Tuesday, acquisitions from Best Buy are as follows:

The weekend that was - Sunday

I had my reservations about going to Crobar this past Sunday.

First, call it a pet peeve or what have you but I was irritated with the poor advertising that was printed on the flyer. 5AM Saturday means 5AM Saturday, not 5AM Sunday morning. There had been instances like this happening in the past, which taught me of this club land temporal anomaly.

Second, I was tired. This would be the third weekend in a row that I'd be going out dancing. Nonetheless after some arm-twisting, last Tuesday, I found myself on Wanttickets pre-ordering my ticket.

Third, I'd been to late day dance parties and I've had difficulty getting into the mood. Inherently, I'm a night person. Clubbing and dancing, I associate with the evening. Sure, it's okay to dance from the previous evening to the next morning/afternoon. Going after a normal full night's sleep in the morning is unnatural ,if you can classify anything in clubbing as being natural. I'd been to Body & Soul and a Danny Tenaglia Classics party, both of which were on a Sunday afternoon. I don't recall having a great time at either. It could have been the music since I'm more a deep, dark beat kind of guy as opposed to some chunky, funky deep house. Regardless, it's made me leery of afternoon parties.

I'd considered bagging the whole idea. As a matter of course, I found myself awake at 5:30 AM. My head was pounding from the night before and I was drinking loads of water to alleviate it. I was up way ahead of schedule and this may have been a result of drinking alcohol. My body feels the immediate effects, but if I get to bed, it'll quickly metabolize the alcohol, giving me some unnecessary energy.

So, 5:30, I was up. I'd quietly left bed and laid in the living room for a bit, waiting. I'd decided to hit the gym which opens at 8, 2.5 hours away. Dang. TV, at this time of morning, SUCKS. Around 7, I headed off to the subway. It was an uneventful ride. I attract crazies when I ride the train at abnormal hours..

I arrived at the gym shortly after 8. My workout was uneventful but productive. Didn't go heavy, I was still feeling tired and wasn't in the mood to drop 225lbs. on my chest. I was in and out as usual and finished by 9. I was again early, but by this time, I was feeling anxious to get to the club. I jumped in a cab and headed on over.

Note to self: Never bring your gym bag to an after hours club. Everything, no matter how harmless, will be put under scrutiny and questioned.

Sigh. (You've got to be kidding me.) No, the tube of Aveda body creme is NOT filled with drugs.
We'll hold these for you until you leave.
Fine, whatever works for you.

Crobar was in full swing when I walked in. The energy was palpable. You had the die-hard, hardcore dance freaks from earlier in the morning and the gay boys, some of whom arrived the same time as I did. You'd pretty much weeded out a slew of club land undesireables. Crobar had been open since 2am w/ TKC, That Kid Chris, opening for Victor, who took over the decks at 5 AM.

I was disconcerted about arriving at the club at an unusual time, 9:15AM, and I was made to feel even more displaced because I couldn't match the energy level. It was Victor's musical journey and I'd arrived at peak time, when he'd be at his hardest and best. Four hours in, Victor was more than warmed up and throwing down a nasty, dark and deep afterhours set. This was what I live for and I was a fish out of water. Moving through the crowd, I was dumbstruck at how clumsily I was doing it. I hadn't acclimated to the lights and they were throwing off my perception. I'd found a friend from the dtourism board and expressed my frustration. She had only one piece of advice, Just move, and that I did.

Once I settled in, the energy was infectious. I danced for the next few hours, stopping a few times to rest. Eventually friend Frank and friendgirl G, showed up around 11:00AM. Thank goodness, I didn't wait for them. was my thought. G was supposed to pick me up at 9:15AM which would have meant I'd have been waiting at Frank's for at least an hour. Bleech. I hate waiting on friends, it's so rude. Fortunately, I'd avoided the whole frustration.

Victor served up a continuous mix of beats, a lot tribal a la Calderone, bordering on progressive house, going from one bomb to another. There were so many good tracks, it's hard to recall and properly trainspot. My mind wasn't in the mood to do it anyhow. Just enjoying the beat heavy set. I'd guess that a good representation of his set would be Victor's Resonate CD. It hasn't been on rotation but deserves another listen. I'd dare say that this set was better than his Black Party set.

He kept the crowd moving till the sweet end at 4:30PM. Amusingly, after exiting and collecting my sequestered lotions (ridic), as we headed down 11th Avenue in Frank's car, we spotted Victor and his 3 man entourage walking and turning onto 11th from 28th. Frank was compelled to yell, "Great set, Victor!!" and I watched as Victor looked befuddled and confused. Nice ending.

The weekend that was - Saturday

This weekend was a bit of blur. Is it bad that most of my weekends end up feeling like this? And why is it that I have so much to say?

Anyway…

Saturday. There was a requisite drop-in to the BFs twin sister's to visit, have breakfast and spend some quality time with her son. The rest of the day was spent doing nothing.

Mentally, I was psyching myself up for the evening and Sunday.

Frank and I were invited to a party at his friend Jimmy's. This party was a pre-Fire Island party, whereupon the housemates and their friends gathered to get drunk before the Fire Island season begins, whereupon they'll probably spend whole weekends in the same drunken state. Sounds like fun, I plan on visiting a lot.

We were at the party ridiculously early since we were also driving Mark, one of the FI housemates who was helping to set-up the party. He didn't need to do anything to which I asked Frank, why did we arrive so early? So naturally, we started drinking early. By the time the party hit capacity, Frank and I were adequately smashed.

At one point, I found myself mucking with the party music/iPod, while Mariah Carey crooned. We all know how I feel about Mariah. I skipped through 2 songs before, in a mirror, I spied Trevor (hot) raising an eyebrow, looking in my general direction. I turned and Trevor confronted me.

What's wrong with the music?
It's Mariah Carey, I'm not a fan.
What would YOU like to hear?

It was about now, that somewhere in the recesses of my short term memory (currently besieged by alcohol), that I recalled Jimmy mentioning that Trevor was bringing his iPod with a custom playlist for tonight's party.

Let the backpedaling begin.

Long/short, Trevor admonished me to which I sheepishly apologized and agreed, it is a pre-Fire Island party and he had to entertain to a fair amount of tastes. While I'm inclined to believe I don't have to listen to what I don't want to, I should tolerate it. Others may like to hear it. I tried my best to endear myself to Trevor. Uncertain if I succeeded. We did have a nice conversation once I spun it off the topic of music. Did I mention Trevor is hot?

11:30PM - Frank, after eating 3 hot dogs to sober up (ew), said it was time to go. The sky was belching water in torrents as I stepped out to get into the car. We had a big day planned for Sunday, the After-Hours Party at Crobar with Victor Calderone. Both of us wanted to get home to sleep. Home in a half hour, asleep in 5 minutes, eagerly awaiting the time to get up.

NOT.

I didn't want to see that.

Seriously, I did not.

My younger brother, his GF and her daughter were sitting idly nearby. I was tooling around on his computer last night, assembling a mini-network for him. The blue and white G3 connected to the internet fine through the DSL modem, but the router wouldn't.

In the middle of all this, the screensaver kicked in, Slideshow, except there was no folder of images selected. Why leave something as simple as this unfixed? I went to System Preferences, Desktop & Screensaver and looked to select a folder of suitable images. The computer defaulted to the iPhoto library and a window of thumbnails appeared.

Huh? Ew. *click*

There, in minute detail, appeared photos of my brother's GF, doing "things" with what I'll presume to be my brother's, ahem, penis.

I'd immediately changed options. While it wasn't up for more than a fraction of a second, it was a fraction of a second too long. It has now been forever burned into my memory. Damn my photographic memory.

Out! OUT!

Hmm... Flurry, that seems like a completely innocuous screensaver.

Temporal Confusion

Ordinarily, "5AM Saturday" means, Saturday morning 5AM.
But apparently, in club speak, it's Saturday night to Sunday morning 5AM.

These people are doing too much drugs.

PSP - Another Update

"I'm at level 18 and i just got my dang rope..." - Oliver

Thanks Oliver, that was my first laugh of the day.

Basher® is continuing to grow as a druidic badass. Check out his mace, Astral Fist. A few other choice pieces of armament like Advisor's Ward, which will turn the enemy to your side for a moment, are also in the arsenal. I've got a plethora (yes, I said plethora) of magical skills at my disposal including Cleanse the Land. Just take my word for it, it rocks.

Oliver, your next task will be to get the Ethereal Key.



This key appears to be covered in rust at first glance, but further inspection, you realize it is more than a mundane old metal key. In fact, it doesn't seem to be a material object at all. This key seems to be entirely made of magical energies, for it has neither weight, texture, or temperature. An ancient power emanates from the key, leading you to believe that it will unlock those magically sealed doors you had previously been unable to pass through. Only further exploration of the forgotten ruins of this world will uncover the true extent of the key's worth and use.

Going to have to go look for some unopened doors.
Meanwhile, (no, not you Aaron) I've got some ass kicking to do. Lord Ashgard, an ancient dragon's animated remains, needs to be put down.

I've got one last artifact for the Brotherhood of the Blade and it appears I'm assisting Aven in assembling a WMD. Curiouser and curiouser.

FYI, looks like the Untold Legend will continue.

Unconditional Inconvenience

My parent's flight was at 3:00PM today not 1:00PM like I originally thought. Smack in the middle of the freaking day. I'd planned on unloading them at about 10:00AM which would allow me time to get home, regroup and head into the city so that I could earn some coin. I got expensive habits you know. But no, I was picking them up at 12:00 to drop them off at JFK.

Hip-Hip-Fucking-Hooray.

Work was not going to happen and I wasn't going to stress myself about it. It does mean one less robot or a few less games this month though. Sigh. My manager was understanding. He'd call me if he needed me.

With the day's schedule in shambles, I slept late. Woke up, dusted off the home workout equipment and got a quick pump while listening to Susan Morabito's Party Groove V3: Blue Ball CD. Cleaned myself up and headed out about 11:15.

AutoLove, my 2004 VW Passat, was a mess. Last night's rain left a layer of grime on him/her (Still not clear on the sex of my car). No time to deal with this now, got to move.

My parents were fairly together when I arrived. My cousin was there and she proceeded to exclaim how big I'd grown, how handsome I was and how much skinnier I was than my younger brother. It's a chinese thing that they do this. Personally, I'd have liked to see her dental hygiene challenged brother, so that he could see how big I've grown and know that I could crush his face in a heartbeat. I've got a bone to pick with him.

Of course, my cousin would have to comment, why wasn't my car washed? GRRRRR.

Leaving on time, the traffic on the Belt Parkway was moving. It was a beautiful day for a drive. Everything ground to a slow crawl around the Rockaway Parkway exit but picked up immediately after.

I got them to the airport, in a half an hour. No thank you, just goodbyes, "take care" and "don't work to hard." Sigh. Unconditional love. In the absence of any affection whatsoever, that's pretty much all I got.

The ride home was significantly more fun. I don't get to drive AutoLove much, but I like to open it up when I can. The Belt was faster moving on the way back. 80 mph is fun, but I wasn't driving recklessly, takes greater skill to drive fast without driving like a maniac. Renaissance - The Masters Series by Hernán Cattáneo was pumping through the sound system and moving me along with beats. Good stuff.

Before heading home, I'd stopped at the Hand Wash Car Wash to provide some cleansing love and TLC for AutoLove. Nothing like a bunch of Mexican's rubbing you down. She's sparkly and new. Yes, I think I'll stick to the nautical tradition of treating one's vehicle as a female.

I've got one more errand to run, AutoLove needs to be inspected. Guess I'm spending the day with AutoLove. I don't mind. Today, I'm just a boy and his ride.

Update: AutoLove is street legal for another year. Yippee. Vroom. ;-)

WYSIWYG, Beer and Walking.

The city seems all the more interesting when you're walking through it drunk. Everything out of place is much more amusing and funny too.

I attended WYSIWYG last night, meeting up with Joe, Chris and Aaron. It was definitely a good time. The material was very funny and told in different styles which made for an eclectic evening. Even the most mundane reading had facets that were thought provoking, esp. in regards to the phenomenom of blogging.

After the show, the gang and I went over to the Phoenix. The WYSIWYG group encourages the audience to join them for a drink at some other bar, but the gay boys, like us, wanted to go to the Phoenix. Next time, we'll have to announce it. I'm sure some of the other boys would join and would probably prefer it. Might've given Aaron a chance to propose to Andy Horowitz.

We all bought each other rounds, so thankfully there was only four of us. If it was 5 or 6 of us... I can't hold my alcohol that well. Urp. They're a fine bunch of guys to chill out with. Topics of dicussion were WYSIWYG, other bloggers, sex, acid trips and Viagra®.

Four beers was my limit. I called it a night around 11:30, I had a long ride ahead of me. Said my goodbyes and happily walked out in to the night. Unfortunately I missed going to The Cock. Dang.

Well... the walk to the train station was fun. I'm a happy drunk thankfully and 14th Street was full of activity at night. All the little oddities/people elicited chuckles from me. I had a shit-eating grin, a dumb smirk that wouldn't go away and all the lights sparkled brightly. Ah well. I focused enough to make sure that I didn't get myself killed crossing the street, but not enough to spoil my inebriated state.

Arriving at the train, unscathed, the PSP kept me busy on the way home. Button mashing is easy. I actually made progress in Untold Legends. Heh.

Home 12:30. Safe and sound. No crazy straight people around. Whew.

Going to WYSIWYG

Hanging with Joe, Chris and Aaron. Who else is coming?



Beers to follow at Phoenix.

If you've got nothing nice to say…

…don't say anything at all.

So the saying goes.

I was having a severe case of the mondays yesterday. I had a very hard time modulating my mood, everything seemed bleaker than it really was and annoyances had me seething uncontrollably. I started and stopped about three blog posts yesterday. They all seemed too negative.

But I'm better now.

Another full nights rest and a good trip to the gym will do wonders. The gym always helps but unfortunately, it's one of the things that requires some measure of motivation to happen. A workout will help elevate my mood and inject some much needed endorphins. Without said motivation, I'd pass usually grumbling about not wanting to drop the weight on myself, so on and so forth. Excuses, excuses, like procrastination, you'll find you're only screwing yourself.

But I'm better now.

It's not like I had a bad weekend, on the contrary, I had a great weekend. The one thing that set me off was my mother and her phone call on Sunday.

Hello?
Davis. (She said my Chinese name. No, I won't give you the phonetics.)
Mother.
Your father wants to talk to you.
What?
Son, are you busy on Thursday? Your mother and I are leaving for Hong Kong. Can you drive us to the airport?

Well, well, sneaky so and so. Her sons are nothing more than a convenience. My other brothers were obviously unavailable and I'm a last ditch choice. I feel no affinity and no obligation for her. Out of the three sons, she knows I'm the only one that'll outright say "No" to her. So, the sly one threw my father into it. Of course, I'm more than pleased to learn that she never asked my other two brothers. My older brother drives like a maniac and my younger brother drives a boat. I'm guessing she'd much rather ride in sanity and style.

Suffice to say, I'm frustrated that I can't adequately elucidate my feelings to my mother since my Chinese sucks and so does her English. Trust me, the broken English and the broken Chinese gets a little too strenuous especially when you're talking about something important.

I'll find a way. I have to.

But I'm better now.

I swear.

On to some happier stuff, it's new release Tuesday. Here are some acquisitions from BestBuy.

For the convenience of being on the go and having the PSP, the following:



And filling in some of the ongoing collections:

Dancing with Danny.

After a relaxing day on Friday, I arrived home for a disco nap. Danny Tenaglia was spinning at Spirit for the First Anniversary of the closing of Arc FKA Vinyl, the club of his previous residency. A melancholy reminder, Arc/Vinyl was my Friday night home for nearly four years. I did a lot of growing up (and acting childish) in there. I don't expect anyone to understand, but it holds a special place in my memory. Tinged with sweetness and soured by sadness, I've accepted it and grown from it.

Still, Danny continues to perform and with him, carries a piece of that memory and mostly the good stuff, the music and his magical musical journies.

I'd only slept a few hours before getting up, anticipation always wakes me up. I headed into the city about 11:30PM. I arrived at 12:30 and breezed into the club, and got lost for the next 11+ hours.

Danny had me going from the moment I walked in. A musical journey from (my) start to (my) end, just what I needed. The vibe was awesome, in my opinion. I thought the crowd was radiating energy and Danny was taking it and sending it back ten fold. I know I did my part. I had my fists pumping in the air and waving to Danny. He may not know it's me, but he'll know that someone is going nuts on his dance floor. It did feel like Vinyl/Arc in Spirit last night. The beats, Danny kept bringing the beats. The music had moving, when my legs were saying "no more." Yes, it was THAT good.

Some notable tracks (that I could identify/remember and in no particular order)
Right on, Right on - Silicone Soul (TWICE)
Flash (Danny Tenaglia's Nitrous Oxide Mix) - Green Velvet
Always Remember to Honor and Respect Your Mother - Dusted (Deep Dish Loves Their Mother Remix)
Stop Foolin Around - Quicksound
Walking On Fire - Evolution
The Baguio Track (Bedrock Mix) - Luzon
Sacred Cycles - Pete Lazonby
Spiritual Battery - Paul Jays
Terror - Fused
I'll Call You (Thin Red Man Mix) - Soul Mekanik
All Exhale - Luke Slater
Waiting - Nat Monday
I Feel Loved - Depeche Mode
Touch Me - Rui Da Silva
Two Months Off - Underworld
Frank Sinatra - Miss Kittin
The Sound of Violence - Cassius
So Strong - Ben Watts feat. Adele Holeness
Ain't No Need to Hide - Sandy B. (lyrics overlaid with Keep Pushing On)
I Know You Can - Whatever Girl (the bassline is lost on this MP3, sounds wicked on a big room system)

I left at 11:45, thoroughly exhausted and thoroughly satisfied. The club was closing down at 12:00 and I'd got my coat check before, so that I can be on my way with little hassles. Seems I missed Danny throwing a "Soul Train Dance Session" and having each remaining individual, dance in the spotlight. I probably would have been too shy. Who am I kidding? I'm a leo, I would've completely hammed it up. Next time, I know better than to leave so close to the end.

The crowd never got out of control. After the Crobar debacle, I was ready to swear off megaclubs. I give Spirit a great deal of credit for managing things nicely. All my experiences with the club have been positive.

Again, the boys were not in representation last night. I'm guessing they were waiting for Saturday night, when Junior Vasquez took the decks for his Star Power party. Well, the straight boys were cute. Some of them might have been curious (I felt them kind of flirty), although I wasn't into that game. Still some of them were knuckleheads. I had one dancing me, in a battle, I think. He didn't take kindly to me turning my back to him. He stood there for two minutes with his arms folded. Whatever.

Until the next party, I wait.

Friday Rewind

I had the day off, not because I needed to, but because I could and I wanted to. The week at work was slow except for two long nights. I didn't mind it since it's not the operating norm. Thursday, my manager asked if my co-worker or I was interested in taking the day on Friday. Co-worker can't operate with an open schedule, makes him crazy. He needs things planned in advance to fill his time. I, on the other hand, like to fly by the seat of my pants, so the day off defaulted to me. Yippee.

A nice lazy day, it worked out well. I hit the gym for a good workout, not too hard though. I didn't want to hurt myself for the evening's activities. I'd finished early and after killing some time shopping around, I sat in Madison Square Park and basked in the sunlight, while I waited for Neal. He was coming in from CA for a long weekend visit. We were going to Koreatown for lunch, after he jammed with our former co-workers. He rang me, talking loudly into the phone (must've been a good jam session). Neal was a few blocks away, so he came to met me at the park.

It was great to see him. I don't know if I really expected him to be any different. He'd only been gone since the beginning of the year. We'd maintained contact via email, phone calls and my blog. He's been very encouraging about my blog which has been helpful. I'll keep him informed via my blog as to the goings on in my life. He says I live like a rockstar. If only that were really true. Where are all my man groupies!?! Neal's even got his own blog. We fell into talking as if no time had passed as we walked up into Koreatown (FMI, read this and then this).

We decided to have something light to eat. Our other option was Korean barbecue and we both weren't feeling it. Neal chose Kunjip restaurant. It was very hectic inside, the tail end of the lunch crowd. I love authentic Asian food places, they always smell like my grandmother's kitchen. It warms my heart, it does.

Neal and I ordered. I went with the bibimbob (phonetic spellings vary, but this is what I read on the menu). I can't recall what Neal ordered (I could cheat and read his blog post but I'd be pretending like I paid attention when I did not.) Meal included, what I'd equate to Italian anti-pasta, seaweed, seasoned green beans, kimchee (in several varieties), sprouts and glass noodles.

We ate, we talked. All good. Primary topics: my blog, his blog, my robo-fetish (for which I believe, he's the only one who REALLY understands me). Californian life has been agreeable to him and only recently hit a snag, hence the NY visit. We didn't talk much, if at all, about it. It sucks but Neal's a strong-minded guy. It's an elephant in the living room, but I imagine he'll chase it out soon, in his own time. For now, I'm here for him and he knows it.

Afterwards, we walked over to the robot store, because I have a problem and Neal indulges me. Stopped into Barnes & Noble looking for The Alienist. Didn't find it but I broke out the laptop and I gave him some music "to review" and he gave me Godzilla Final Wars. AWESOME.

In Union Square Park, amongst the descending sun, the street dancers, the beatnik/oddball bopping by himself and the skateboarders, we parted ways. I was heading home to get some sleep and he was going to walk till the sun set.

To borrow Neal's own term, he's a good egg. He's in CA, it's good for him. I'll visit. I enjoyed our time on Friday, and I'm positive there'll be more. I worry a bit, but he's got his head on straight.

Spamalot

Last night, the BF and I went to see Spamalot. He'd gotten these tickets back in February for us as an anniversary gift. I wasn't overly impressed.

Oh, gee thanks. I'm such a dick sometimes.

While I enjoy the theater, more often than not, I forget that fact. Several times, the BF had to remind me that he'd gotten the tickets and they were a good get. I was unconvinced until I read some previews on it and they were positive. From then, I was excited and made it a point to remember that we had theater tickets for last night.

Spamalot is based, or as it is billed, lovingly ripped off from Monty Python and the Holy Grail for which I am a fan. For any one who hasn't seen it, what the hell are you waiting for? Forewarned, it is English humor, most people won't get it. It'll require a viewing or two to really appreciate it, like Napolean Dynamite.

Prior to the show, the BF admitted he'd never seen MP and the Holy Grail. Back of my mind, Uh-Oh, will he get this? Well, he gets my humor, he's sure to get this. This explained why, when we arrived at the theater and they had the fuzzy killer rabbit at the concession stand, I exclaimed, "Oooh look, rabbit, with fangs like this and an angry streak this wide. I want one!" He looked at me like I was insane. I am a little, but isn't that fun? Insane as I am, $40 is NOT a reasonable price for a stuffed bunny rabbit.

Spamalot is the musical version of the movie. While it completely lifts segments of the movie, Eric Idle and John Du Prez adapted it with hilarious lyrics and fantastic musical numbers. I won't go into detail, but it's all fun. The play is very contemporary. The stars are Tim Curry, David Hyde Pierce and Hank Azaria. Notably, Sara Ramirez, playing the Lady of the Lake, is totally awesome as are some of the other roles, Patsy and Herbert to name a few. Pierce and Azaria play double and triple duty on some other roles as well, ie. Azaria as the French Taunter, I fart in your general direction!!!

Musical and movie comparisons abound, I will only say this, Go see it. They're not the same so why bother making the comparisons? It's entertainment. If you're going to nitpick and dissect it, then you must be a very lonely person. Here's someone who gets it.

It was a fun night. But be warned (again), you'll have to suffer the tourists in Times Square and the idiots in the theater who completely misquote the movie and recount the scenes from the movie incorrectly. SHUT UP!!! YOU SOUND LIKE A TWIT!

Sigh. I will not suffer fools willingly.

Give me the flag.

Thursday Quick Post

Corey posted a quiz that tests Which X-Men member are you?
Can I tell you I'm more than a little excited that…

I'm Jean Grey!!!


Which X-Men member are You?
created with QuizFarm.com

That totally made my day. The Phoenix Force may find me yet. ::evil grin::

Pressure Kung Fu

While most kids were playing cops and robbers, or cowboys and indians…

Pow. I got you.
Nah-uh.
Uh-huh.
Nah-uh.
I got you in the shoulder.
Nah-uh.
Pow. I got you now.
You cheated, I'm telling mom.

…my brothers and I were playing a different kind of pretend.

NOT doctor, you sicko freak.

Our imaginations were fueled by the Chinese serials and movies our mother rented. Most of these involved mystical acts of martial arts, well before Crouching Tiger and Hidden Dragon made an impact on the US market. Battles of death were fought in dazzling displays of aerial acrobatics with discharges of lightening from palms and shockwaves pounded into the ground with bare fists. Boulders were thrown at one's enemy if enough energy and force of will were directed into it. Inexorably, such feats of strength were excruciating on the body. How long a combatant lasted and how unfazed he/she was, was a testament to their skill and experience. Usually, the one winning would be laughing, stroking his fu manchu and monologuing to his opponent, about their apparent weakness and inability.

Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha.

Continuing. What's surprising was that much of the combat involved no physical impact. True, there was plenty of blocking, but any real contact out the ordinary, a palm to the chest, meant certain defeat. The stricken combatant would be "poisoned" by the fierce attack and their martial arts skills disrupted.

Having seen these displays, my brothers and I would re-enact them. Thus, you'd find us throwing ourselves around, as if we were struck by what we liked to refer to as "pressure kung fu." It never involved any hitting. Actual hitting would always lead to some objection and disagreement.

Smack!
Ow. That really hurt! SMACK!
HEY! I didn't mean to hurt. SMACK BACK.
OW. ::JUMP::
::CHOKE::
Mom intervenes.

No. Pressure kung fu involved no actual hitting. Instead it was a lot of gesturing and pretend. Each palm strike would pressurize the air between the palm and the opponent, solidifying it and striking them. WHAM. My brothers or I happily took the impact as we threw ourselves onto the soft bed or couch, feigning gross, massive internal injury. Ah, to pass the days. My grandmother eventually got fed up with us jumping around on the beds and told us to stop. Still, it was fun.

Watching Kung Fu Hustle, I was reminded of these playtimes my brothers and I had, such wholesomeness. The movie itself is a great time, and I'd certainly recommend it. Be sure to keep your childlike imagination on hand, to really enjoy it.

I do wish I did know some real pressure kung fu, I'd perform the "Air Biff" any chance I'd get.

Crazy Fan Folk

I was a little slow moving this morning and I slept late. It's Tuesday. I went out this weekend. Some of you get it. Anyway, before I'd even walked out of the house, I got a voicemail from O about a line of people, collected in front of Best Buy this morning apparently to see Mariah Carey at 7PM. I texted him back saying, perhaps you should send my BF a msg., since he's the fan, not I.

I swear, I'm not.

I thought O may be having some confusion and asked, are you sure it's Best Buy, not Virgin? He replied, "The Best Buy behind you." I work in NoHo and they opened one on Broadway. Not "behind" me per se... but near.

I emerged from the Broadway-Lafayette station and turned the corner from Houston to Broadway. Ahead, I could see gates set up. Walking closer, I could see the line was originating in front of the BB, about the middle of the block extending to the end of the block before wrapping around again. Essentially the line was a block long. I kept walking and proceeded to work. Didn't care to ask what the hell was going on.

I did return to BB at lunch. It's new release Tuesday and I intended to pick-up some new releases. Turns out, this morning's queue was for people to get wristbands so that they could return to BB, to have Ms. Carey sign their purchased CD. ::eyeroll:: She's released her latest piece of crap drivel self-serving monkey spunk over-hyped turd album, The Emancipation of Mimi. Those who have acquired their bracelets will more than likely return later to see Ms. C.

As you'll note from the photo, some of them have already lined up in anticipation of Ms. C. Don't you people have jobs? They're bundled in blankets and most brought their own folding chairs. I felt sorry for them. Best Buy wasn't on the sunny side of Broadway at the time. Okay, maybe not that sorry.

In all fairness, I should give Mariah's album a listen, but I really don't have a choice in the matter. The BF loves her and I've already got him a copy. I'll be hearing it over and over and over and over and over again. Ah the price of sex love.

Acquisitions for ME:

Weekend Recollection

My Big Gay Dance Night

Rewind to Saturday night, Robocub and I went out dancing at the Roxy where Manny Lehman was spinning. I meet up with him at his place along with his BF Eddie, out-of-towners Mark, Jim and John. Nice digs, he introduced me to some of his robo-pals in his collection, like Giant Robot from Doctor Who (How "giant" is he?) and R2-D2, which Robocub described to be "creepy."

After sitting for a few drinks and chatting, we headed out to the Roxy early, figuring it would be crowded. The crowd was light at that time, but at least, we didn't have to wait on any lines. The club filled fast. The boys got cuter but you did have the occasionally creepy guy, bumping uglies next to you.

Dude, it might be getting you off rubbing up to me, but you're grossing me out.

The music kept everyone moving. Manny threw down a good set with one hiccup that I could recall, a skippy track. Musically, I can't say it was anything memorable.

As I was listening to Yoshitoshi Ibiza this morning, I realized that there's a desperation to circuit party-esque music. It's a lot of high energy beats, telling you how to feel and how to dance, very simplistic. The tracks that really get to me and really "turn my crank" are multi-layered with subtleties. Perhaps a deep bass groove with a high hat coming in and riff tease here and there, what you garner from such a track is solely up to you. Circuit music cuts to the chase and wants you to be the Energizer bunny bounding around. It can be fun, but by the end of the night, it all sounds the same. Maybe that's why I get thoroughly bored at the end of Alegria. Engage me, make me think. Don't batter me with beats.

Sorry about the little aside, a Monday morning musing.

My friend O eventually joined us. We danced a little longer after Robocub and Eddie left. I think we left at 7, by then the club was emptying out. A good time was had by all. Can't wait to do it again. Oh wait, I'll be doing it again next week. :)

Sunday Discombobulation

Much of Sunday was spent in recovery from Saturday night. I was extremely tired and made even more so by enduring a long train ride. By my arrival at home, I couldn't tell if I was coming or going. I spent the morning sleeping.

The BF and I headed to Staten Island in the early afternoon to his brother's. The drive was great as the sun beamed through the sunroof and felt warm. At times a bit too warm as the heat was burning through my jeans. Ouch.

Immediately, upon arrival, I proceeded to grab a reclining chair, set it up in the backyard, take off my shirt and sit out. The first sun of the year, pure joy. Don't know how long I was out there, but I did get some color.

We ate, we hung out, we watched Tiger win the Masters and we headed home. Very relaxing.

Day of Errands and Muted Excitement

Let's try posting again. Honestly, I should know better than to write directly into a browser window. It's logical. I shouldn't blame Blogger, but I will since it's frustrating and now I have to rethink and retype. Bitch, bitch, bitch.

Onwards.

I do wish there was another Friday night dance party of worth. I've said this before. Sorry for beating a dead horse. Invariably, I'm up late doing nothing worth spit.

I did play an excessive amount of Doom 3 last night and even successfully troubleshoot a problem I was having with the aforementioned game. It was exiting to the main menu while loading the next level. Not good for progress. Noodled with the hard drive's permissions and that set everything straight.

Moving along in the game, I've been frugal with my munitions. Keenly aware I don't know what is around the corner, so it's best to be well-stocked. The game has me on edge, scared shitless frankly. What did I expect from a game advertised as "an epic clash against pure evil" ? I thought I knew evil. The disembodied voices, the demonic pentagrams and markings appearing out of the blue will test anyone's resolve. Progress is slowing, the monsters are becoming more abundant and my sanity is waning. The less I play the better, but it's soooo good.


ok, the disembodied attack heads are unnerving too.

No Doom 3 today. I had lots to do. Heading into the city, I briefly started up the PSP for a little diversion of Untold Legends. Entering Splinterfull Woods, I was set upon by a large attack party. I died once. Reloaded. Died again. I shut the PSP off. Not in the mood to be challenged this early in the day. Lvl. 19 is looking kind of far off now.

First order of business, I needed a haircut. I was well overdue at three weeks since my last cut. Off to Luigi at Astor Place I went. It was my intention to hit the gym afterwards. Unwittingly, I took my thermo-burst energy pills before seeing Luigi. I was all hopped up when I arrived. Luigi was busy with another client, so rather than sitting and waiting, I ran over to Otakuden to pick up a few import DVDs.



Pretty psyched about all these movies, probably spend the day tomorrow watching them.

The Haircut. Uneventful. I do feel "unburdened" every time I get a haircut, none of that Samson crap.

The Gym. Uneventful. However, could any one explain why it is, when I take something with acetaminophen, I become prone to some sort of muscle discomfort? A cursory google search of acetaminophen has garnered this:

Acetaminophen relieves pain by elevating the pain threshold, that is, by requiring a greater amount of pain to develop before it is felt by a person.

This is particularly disturbing. I've already got a high-threshold for pain (take it however you will).
The reason why I rely upon acetaminophen is, it's the only pain-reliever I can tolerate being aspirin sensitive.

Oh well.. mental note, ask doctor at next check-up.

After the gym, I lazily walked through Chelsea on the sunny side of the street. I was tempted to chow down on some sausage and peppers at the street fair on 23rd Street but decided against it. My body has been out of balance and I still believe in some of my grandmother's old wives tales. Spicy, fried and oily food won't help. Sigh, it would have been delicious. I had a bottle of water, a snack bar and a banana. Boring.

I've been home since 3, napping with some phone interruption, but quietly anticipating tonight. Spoken with Robocub. We're both hesitantly anxious. It'll be fun.

Full recap tomorrow, with the appropriate edits and mindful lies of omission.

Buzzkill.

There's nothing like being shat upon by Blogger and losing four paragraphs you lovingly constructed, to ruin your desire to make a post.

Make the hurting stop.

Oliver posted about the most Patriotic Video ever.
(click the link at your own peril)

I watched it.
Big Mistake.

Now, the song has taken residency in my head, filling my quiet time with "...and you must carry on!!!!" I can't get my iPod out fast enough to quell the intrusion.

It's torturous. It won't go away. It's not that I like it. On the contrary, I loathe it. My manager is astounded at the awfulness of it that he's playing it over and over again, for whoever that'll watch it. Usually they watch in disbelief, wanting to laugh but uncertain if they should.

I cannot believe that it is not a parody. The guy's heart is in the right place, but why couldn't he have done it better? People, like Middle America and the Red States, are uplifted by it. I'm sullied by it.

The cheese factor kills me. The lyrics kill me. I'm not an expert on English, but he has pronoun trouble. I'd been searching the web for the lyrics (NO, I don't want to listen to it again to get them.)

Here are some memorable quotes I've found searching the web. I'm not the only one thankfully.

Last summer I went to San Francisco. I arrived in the midst of San Francisco's annual gay-pride parade. Until just now, that was the gayest thing I had ever seen, then I watched that video.

Aaaaaghh!!!! I guess we should have seen this one coming, but I still can't quite believe it. America We stand as one is the horrible convergence of patriotism, national tragedy and some kind of weird implicit pedophilia. Watch this video, and forever be scarred.

The lyrics are trying too hard, like Mr. Big's "To Be With You." C-H-E-E-S-Y.

If the song doesn't leave my head, I'll have no further recourse but a self-administered pre-frontal lobotomy.

So, I lied…

…I'm not Lvl. 17. I'm Lvl. 18. HA.

For Oliver:



This be proof that I be speaking the truth.

Check out my fancy rope.

Blogger is driving me nucking futz!!!

It works. It doesn't work. It works. It doesn't work. It doesn't work. It doesn't work. It doesn't work. It doesn't work.

Has Blogger imploded?

Whatever it is, it's really cramping Blogger. I can't post anything, much less get the Blogger front end to load on my browser (well, at least on Firefox).

The document contains no data.

$%@#^*&
F*CK!!!
&%@#

I swear, I'm going to ram my fist through the F*CKING monitor if I have to see those words again. (In hindsight, this would be a very bad idea.)

Update: For all you Blogger users, this is from the Status page.

If you are experiencing problems loading Blogger.com, please try clearing the cookies in your browser.

PSP - An Update

Untold Legends
Basher, my druid, is leveling up nicely, currently at Lvl. 17. I'd defeated the Matron Skulgra and my thumb was adequately sore that day. I ran like a bitch and threw stars at her until she died.
The last big encounter was with the Rotting Priest in the Sacred Vaults. He was no joke but neither was I. Dispatched him on my second try, with flaming arrows.

I loaded up my game at this moment to discover my druid is not wearing pants!! How'd that happen? Must've been hitting the circuit parties without me. HA. Get it? Circuit party… circuits in the PSP…

oh nevermind.

Picked up Mercury today. It's a different from the typical puzzle game. If you've played Marble Blast on the Mac, it's the same premise except you have a blob of mercury as opposed to a ball.



Here's a synopsis of the game from ebgames.com.
Mercury is a refreshingly unique game with roots in many genres. Mercury provides an addictive challenge through its simple gaming mechanic. Players "tilt" each level to maneuver the blobs of mercury, with various switches, platforms, obstacles, and hazards standing between level goals.

Powering Mercury is a sophisticated engine that calculates every gloopy part of the liquid metal as it bends and melds around everything in its path. As the digitized mercury smoothly ebbs and flows under such simple controls, players experience the purest form of gaming.

While the controls are simple, the game itself is extremely addictive. Puzzle elements include splitting the mercury into several colored component parts in order to open gates and activate switches. The maze-like environments require lateral thinking in order to navigate the mercury from start to finish. The sprawling 3D levels require clever, yet hit-yourself-when-you-work-it-out solutions.

Sodium Spike.

Oy, my head. I had every intention of writing a post about my next robo-lust (still to come) or something pithy, but dinner has blood vessels constricting in my head. It was a grilled chicken salad with a fat-free caesar dressing. Tasty and made extra nice as the BF and I were watching "Lost." (Are you watching "Lost"? No. You should be.) Seemed harmless enough until as I was driving the BF to bowling, the throbbing in my head became relentless. (a little less than 120bpm. Any more, I'd be dancing.)

Upon arriving home, I checked the label on the the dressing. 300mg of sodium in one serving of 2 tbsp. WTF!?! No wonder I was dying from a vice grip on my head. I've been dousing my system with water the last 2 hours. The conga drums are finally subsiding.

Whew.

While I didn't drown my salad, I'm betting I had 2 servings, 600mgs of sodium more than my average consumption of salt. Unlike my friend Brian, who'll salt his food before tasting it (Hi Bri, Mep!), I'm not a salt person. To each his own. When I was younger, I'd put soy sauce on everything (Chinese house, what'd you expect?). I am a fan of spicy foods though and love a sweet chili sauce.

My grandmother would always exclaim, "All that spicy stuff will make you crazy!!"

LOOK AT ME NOW GRANDMA!!! LOOK AT ME NOW!!!

WHOA!!!!

I do like my condiments. But before I season or sauce my food, I'm always reminded of a little cartoon short that I used to see on TV. It was a PSA teaching kids not to drown their food. I found it here. (You'll need Realplayer MAC/PC to see it.)

Education, 80's Style is loaded with other PSA treasures. Check them out.

These may not have been as popular as Schoolhouse Rock with their songs about Adjectives and Pronouns but they were memorable nonetheless.

I need another glass of water.

Get out.

If you live in NY and are reading this blog, Get out! Forget the jacket. It is 67 degrees at this moment. It is simply gorgeous.

Don't just go for a cigarette break, take a walk. Do it.

The sun is energizing. Walk on the sunny side of the street.
We're all pale and can use a little more color.

Go! You'll be glad you did.

UPDATE: 5:24PM It is now 72 Degrees.

Do you see me?

Turning the corner, I see him with his back to me. A towel hangs around his narrow waist, he peers into his locker. I watch him as he grasps at the contents of his bag. Slowly, he slips on a pair of green underwear, striped with white lines and drops his towel. Lifting his arms, he applies deodorant, first left then right.

I begin to undress, standing in the corridor. All the while, the mirrors reflect his moving image. I pull my shirt over my head as he slips a white tee over his. I step out of my shorts. I'm naked for a second before I wrap myself in the soft terry cloth. As he spins away from the locker, he sits to put on his jeans. I stand in the opening. Peering in. Facing him.

Do you see me?

Good.

So get your milquetoast ass in gear and get the fuck out of the way. You're blocking me from my locker, inconsiderate boob. I would like to get showered, changed and started with my day, dickhead.

Dance Hall Days

Looking forward to next Saturday night.



Robocub and I will finally shake a little booty together.

And because I won't learn my lesson…

Domestica.

Going into the weekend, I was emotionally exhausted from last week. I'd gone out Thursday evening, with my friend O for a few drinks at g lounge and then met up with O's BF, M at Viceroy for dinner. I'd knocked back a few drinks and was quite buzzed before heading home. In that time, my body refracted, sobered up and launched myself into a night of insomnia, ridden with thoughts that had been plaguing me. Friday was no fun. Saturday morning, I sucked it up, dealt with the issue head on and have reached an understanding. All is good. "I never did mind about the little things."

The rest of my weekend could be best described as "domestica." There is no such word in the dictionary, but to me, it fits. It was a miserable weekend to be out anyway.

On both Saturday and Sunday, the BF and I went to the hospital to visit his father, who is recovering nicely from surgery. He's got two wicked scars, one on his stomach and the other along his back to his side, lots of staples. He's been up and about, which is good, but jetting about, which is bad. He seemed a little more peaked on Sunday, possibly from an infection the doctors suspect he has, or the fact that he's pushing himself too hard, too fast. Good news is he may be getting out today. No more of those flavorless, mushy vegetable and meat patties he's been subjected too. Bleech. Why is it hospitals smell like a sanitized bathroom or broccoli?

Saturday night, there were ambitious plans. I was supposed to head into the city for a birthday gathering that I would've parlayed into a night out dancing. With the inclement weather and my increasing lethargy, I opted not to go out. I've learned to read the signals from my body and it was saying, "do so at your own risk." Again, I feel something is currently taxing my system, causing intense fatigue. The afternoon nap on Saturday was painful to awaken from and by 8PM I was ready for bed again. Instead, visited my parents and hung out with my younger brother. Odd that in our older years, the siblings can tolerate, even appreciate, each other's company.

Sunday, time flew especially with the loss of an hour to daylight savings. The day was filled with more of the same except after the hospital we visited the BF's sister and his nephew.



Isn't he a cutie? So well-behaved, he cooed and blew rasberries the entire time.
We left, borrowing his sister's steam rug cleaner, which I was excited about. Imagine? Very, very domestic of me. I spent the rest of the afternoon emptying my office/play room and cleaning. It needed it. All the while though, I thought, I should be paying someone to do this, but it's much more rewarding doing it yourself. Basically, deskless ergo homeless until the rug dried, I was a vagabond about the apartment with my laptop.

Finally cracked open Lumines for the PSP (been awhile since I posted about it, so you'll bear with me.) Fun game, very addictive. Simple play mechanics I'm wrapping my head around to master. Give me a day or two. :)

THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT!!

Visions of Beauty!
I love exposed robot parts. Gets me hot.
Not as hot as exposed man parts, but they'll do.






I suddenly hearing a sucking sound…

…on my wallet. (You dirty boys!)

Consumed.

I've been seething in an emotional cesspool of my own making. Swirling about in the negative eddy, I didn't feel like doing anything today. Coupled with a complete lack of sleep, I couldn't muster any motivation and I was completely "out of it."* I'm uncertain what was borne from what though. In my sleeplessness, was my mind wandering, stopping on something and wouldn't get off of it, or was it my thoughts that kept me up? I can't say.

By 5AM, I was exhausted and slept.

I woke late. Called in to work to say, "I'm late." and "I'm on my way."

But still my thoughts nagged me. It had been a long time since this happened, but the stress was putting a vice grip on my heart. It felt like it was being torn in two. Groan. All this angst had me crawling out of my skin. Was I having a meltdown?
I would have loved to hit the gym and work out my frustration, but I've learned I can't feed off negative energy. It poisons me.

Spoke with Erik (Robocub) online and he eased my mind some, as well as whoever's ear I could bend. I don't want to get into. In many ways I feel petty about it and it's probably the onset of OCD.

Regardless, wheels are in motion to deal with this. I'm trying to be as evenhanded as possible without neglecting myself.**

My heart feels at ease but I'm not done. Hopefully, a full nights rest will put me back on track and bring about happier things to blog about.

**Note: Took the Personality Test at Spark Notes, and it says I'm a Helper, Type 2 personality. I don't agree with it. Maybe I should invest less time in internet personality tests and some in a therapist. On second thought, after reading some more, there is plenty of evidence to classify me as a Type 2. I don't like it.

* You'd be amused to hear how out of it, I was. I'd ripped a new CD to my iPod during my insomnia. Listening to it today, it was jamming nicely (proggy-trance, not usually my thing, but I was giving Markus Schulz a whirl.) Anyway, I thought the track blends were a little too hard and weren't seamless. I realized something was really wrong when the last track ended abruptly. Turns out, I listened to the whole CD in reverse order. I'm a dork.