Tired and Solitary; Peace in the Fatigue

Things haven’t been peachy as of late. Last weekend’s case of sinusitis and bronchitis put me off my course, and I’ve decided to make some serious healthy-living choices. I’m doing better, but my mood this past week hasn’t been the same. More in a frump, so to speak.

Even though I’m not too happy with my job at times, I’m more serious about it now, more involved in the work there, more with my head in the game. As long as I can run the machines, as long as I can get away to work on my own, I’m happy and more confident. If it’s just me to deal with, then my world is conquered.

My laptop has been at the Dell service depot in Memphis, TN since monday, so as of now I’ve been without it for coming on a full week. I’m not too happy with the pace of service. They are replacing the motherboard in the hopes that it will fix the docking station problem I’ve been having. They’ll also replace the keyboard for the missing spacer key, the dvd-rom drive for the broken faceplate, and potentially the LCD screen for the “hotspot” that’s developing at the bottom, just above the heat-producing, backlight-powering voltage inverter.

The official word from Dell is that it’ll take 3 to 5 business days; my friends who work there told me around 2. Come tomorrow, it’ll officially be 5 days, and if Airborne Express doesn’t show up to my job tomorrow with a package for me, Dell will have hell to pay. I’ve been without my main mode of communication to my friends for a whole week, and it’s seriously bothering me. There was a reason why I asked Dell to pick it up on Monday instead of the Friday before: I didn’t want to endure a weekend without it. Well, that happened anyway. I was complaining about the issue with our secretary at work at close of the day on Friday, and she remarked, while waving hands mockingly, “Oh my, I’ll have to actually talk to people, oh no!” It may be funny to her, but it’s not to me. I do more with that machine than chat and browse. I actually write code and do work.

So, in the absence of my laptop diversion, I’ve been spending more time at home on my desktop computer, trying to write code (and being productive), and when I go out, I’m kind of reconnecting with some of my offline friends and disconnecting with my online friends. It’s disturbing that now that I’m in the “real world” I’m closing down, looking off into the distance, and not really wanting to talk at all. Right now, people can go to hell; my patience is short, and I’m not into bullshit. And, for once, I can find some kind of clarity in that. I’m not trying to “keep up” with people, I’m not trying to get into their lives or have them get into mine, I’m just going along on my own way. I pay them no mind.

And I’m writing a journal entry about it. I’m full of oxymorons.

I did treat myself yesterday, though. I took care of something I’ve been lacking and needing for a while. I made the heady resolution to go to a car audio shop, browse their selection, and I bought a new car tuner/cd player. It’s a 200 watt tuner from Dual. By happenstance, I found a unit that had everything I demanded; it fit my tight specifications: a volume knob instead of volume buttons, external line-in for my laptop or someone’s mp3 player, and adjustable bass and treble. The usability factor is seriously high on my list; I’m not going to buy a unit that required me to take my eyes off of the road when I’m driving 85mph in order to change the station or play with the equalization. So I took my new purchase, some CD’s from the apartment, and my toolbox and went to the parking lot behind my job and did the installation myself. I preferred the relative obscurity and anonymity of doing it there than the “I know where you live and park” danger of installing it in front of my less-than-trusty neighbors in my own parking lot. The install took about two hours, and it sounds great. Went on a long drive last night. I’m happy with it.

So there it is, folks. There’s my snapshot of my current life. But, as always, there’s more under the surface, more that I’m not letting on, but it’s only available for those who scratch.

The Face of Slow Change

If you’re wondering if anything happens here at Phaysis, I can say “yeah, things are happening, but I’m not letting you in on them yet.” The game Chrontium is still in development; I’ve gotten my head pretty wrapped up in the code, but there’s still a glimmer of hope that I can release it for trials within a month or three. Stay tuned.

Outside of that, I got the itch and made some small stylistic changes to the site. I am pleased that the changes required an even smaller amount of work in the stylesheets to make it happen. If it’s overkill, you can always message me in the gateway.

The rest of the site is still here since the last Phaysis news update. The “Terran and Proud” video, found in the image gallery, is still up and available for your viewing. Take a look if you want. It’s up to you. Enjoy.

What Dreams May Come

The disturbing, unsettling dreams continue.

About a week ago, I dreamed that I went back to school. Not just any school — I went back to Ouachita Baptist University, the place where I spent/wasted 5 1/2 years of my life. Yeah, Ouachita. All I remember was that I was riding in the back seat of a car, there were something like 5 other people in the car, and we were on our way from Austin to Arkadelphia. Upon arrival, I make my way to my new room on the third floor of Daniel Hall South, where I had a room at one point. The room was on the front side of the dorm. I remember looking around and seeing how everything, though familiar, had thoroughly changed. Even the students had changed into Abercrombie and Fitch models with more clothing and more praise to the Almighty. Feh.

So, I’m there in my room, it’s overstuffed with people, and I’m sitting in the doorway next to the hall talking to who? My Mojo’s friends. Weird. So both male and female friends are there with me, we’re talking and trying to keep our voices down, and one of the girls laughs a little too loudly. This gets the attention of the Resident Assistant (both of them, actually — seems OBU had started putting 2 RA’s per floor instead of 1), and they kick her out of the men’s dorm (OBU is a Baptist university, so of course there’s no in-room visitation with the opposite sex). I walk out after her, make my way to the end of the dorm and the base of the footbridge, where there’s still tons of people, and I take off towards the woods behind the dorm, first at a full run, then after not being able to run (it’s a dream, after all), I settle at a rushed jog. I wake up before I reach the woods.

That dream, scary as it was, really is just my memory kicking in. Earlier that evening, I was talking to friends online and dragging up memories of when I was in school. Later on in the evening, I was at Mojo’s, and the place in the smoking section, where I sat, was packed and crowded. These experiences and memories sat and stewed all night until *pop* they form a dream. And that dream scared the shit out of me. So, not only did I go back to school, I did so at the loss of all that I’ve come to rely on for support. I left my job, I left my car behind, I left pretty-much everything behind to go back. I didn’t even have financial aid. I just went. That disturbs me the most. Freaky, creepy.

Fast forward to this morning. This weekend, since Friday night, I’ve been sick with another case of sinusitis (the second case in three weeks), so I’ve been sleeping a lot. This morning, the final dream that carried me back to the conscious world, was another “Going back to Ouachita” dream. This one was a little different, though.

I dreamed that I went back, and this time I took my roomate Patrick with me. I knew that, like me, he had to finish some schooling and get a degree. So we went, and we were roomates there as well. This time, things were different, though. I drove the both of us there, from Austin to Arkadelphia, in my car. All our stuff was in my car (don’t ask me how). Our room, as you may guess, was also on the third floor of Daniel Hall South, front side. At first I was thinking it was an old friend’s old room, but it was actually two doors down towards the middle of the hall. And instead of getting there at dusk, like my previous dream, we got there mid-morning, so the sun was beaming through the blinds (now that I think of it, that makes no sense at all, because the front side of the dorm faces the west). Whatever.

So, the dorm is different, again. Carpeting in the hallway. Brown carpeting. The room has been renovated: the closets are gone. In their place is a set of wood-framed bunkbeds. There were no closets anymore. The whole room was carpeted as well; when I was at OBU, only a small few of the rooms in Daniel Hall had any shred of built-in carpeting, and those rooms were half-carpeted, at that. I found the new campus ethernet ports in the corner; I remembered looking for them (they didn’t exist until after I had left that school). Everything was spacious, open, and empty; 80% of the rooms were still sitting with doors open, waiting on the students to come back. There were no RA’s. Just me and Pat, and our first load of stuff.

We paid a visit to the student center, I showed him the post office, the bookstore, the grand stairwell, some of the classrooms. I remembered talking to some of the students who had made it back early. We were there, we were older than everyone, we were smokers, and we were there at Ouachita Baptist University. The sun was shining bright and warm, things looked hopeful (kinda), but we were still there, without degree plans, without financial aid, without jobs, with nothing but our stuff.

Ok, interpretation time: the shining sun in the window is from the fact that currently my bed is beneath the window of my bedroom. The window faces south, so the sun comes in every day, almost all day. It was shining bright and warm on me as I slept in today. But why Ouachita again? I don’t quite know yet, but I think it may have been related to finding a text file on my computer outlining my student loan debts and how much I owe to whom. That may have kick-started the neural memory mass again, or something of the sort. I’ve also kinda, and I haven’t thought this through completely yet, I’ve lately been thinking about driving back to Arkadelphia, for real, to go back to the place where I had my first cigarette and ceremoniously undo everything by having my last at that spot. But why was Patrick there with me? Why was I dragging his ass back to OBU? I really don’t know. If anybody would be bad fit for OBU, he would, hands-down. I really don’t know.

So, this thread totally scares me. I don’t want to go back. I can’t go back. I know I won’t go back. The thought of being surrounded by Arkansas’ finest spoiled uberyouth with high-minded religious intentions to bang each other’s brains out in motels creeps me out. The thought of having to sit through another Chapel session frightens me. The thought that I will know absolutely no one there save the few professors who still have tenure makes me freak.

Please, make it stop. Gah.

Another Transition

2003 is over. Good bye. Was good, but could’ve been better. Everything could’ve been better.

Well, actually, it was better than hoped. If memory serves me right, here were my resolutions for 2003:

  • get a laptop
  • finish my website
  • finish my album
  • get more financially stable

I guess one out of four ain’t bad. Eh? I’m nowhere near finishing the engine for my website, but I have written and put into use my journalling engine. I’m also learning a lot of standardized code practices, and I’m still working on my game, Chrontium, which promises to be pretty cool. I’m also nowhere near finishing my album, but I have a new respect for the creative process, I have some good input on the sound, and I have some new, fresh ideas for lyrics, melody, and so on. Things are gelling a little better. And the fourth one? Feh. That’s anyone’s guess. I did start my 401(k) this year, and I got a savings account. That’s a step forward, right?

I don’t have any resolutions made yet, but one thing that is important on my potential list is attaining better health. I’m not 23 anymore; I’m going on 32. Time to watch the waistline, mind the ticker, pay attention to things. Definitely. This is the only body I’ll get, ever. No remakes, no overhauls, no rebirth or reincarnation. This is it.

I didn’t have any plans for tonight, but luckily my new friends in the local tech community have pulled together something out of nothing, so I’m going over tonight to have something to drink, hang out, meet some more people. And that’s exactly what I need.

My life these days is picking up. More people, like early on when I first moved here. This making of new connections is a good thing; it’s shaking up my stale life in a way, and I’m happy about it. Forward motion, probably, but it’s motion nonetheless.

And that’s about as enigmatic as I’ll get. I’m trying to sort out what I want in my friends, what I need to bring to the table, what I like in women, what my “type” is, all that. The moment I have it nailed down, it’s gone again. That kind of knowledge isn’t meant to be held and examined, it’s meant to be chased, pursued. Relationships are fluid, and there’s no reason why knowing how to make one happen and survive should be static.

So, yeah, this year has been alright. I’m just glad another one is starting. It’s a convenient point to make things happen.

Until next time: see you next year. Har har.

Xmas Day in Hindsight

My 10-hour nap is over, and I feel like hell. I really don’t know how you couchsurfers can do it. I slept on the couch here and my back feels like one of those turkish windmill knots that scouts earn merit badges for learning. But I got some sleep, and now that I’ve gotten up and have gotten online, I’m feeling much better. More sane. More like something resembling a human.

Ok. Our Christmas morning went rather well. I gave my mother the album “Cow Pie Blues” from Willie Nelson and a paperback how-to on screenwriting. She was thoroughly ecstatic about her gifts. I was worried, actually, about if she’d like the Willie Nelson disc. All I remember was that years ago, before she started listening to country music, that she’d poke fun of Willie and say things like “Willie Nelson? Eww, gross!” Now she totally digs him. So I’m happy. And her screenwriting book promises to give her most of what she needs to know about the mechanics and preparation of writing a screenplay, which is what she had major worries about. I wish her the best of luck on her writing endeavors.

To my sister, her husband, and their family, I gave DVDs this year. For the grownups, I gave “Bicentennial Man”, which I still haven’t seen and they haven’t heard of. From what I’ve been told, it was a good movie; not as long as “AI” which came out around the same time, but good in the “sad but heartwarming way”. And, for the kids, I got them “Spy Kids”, which they’ve seen on VHS, but now they get to watch whatever special features are on the disc. My sister was completely surprised that all three movies in the “Spy Kids” series were shot and made in Austin.

And that’s basically all the gifts I gave. Bah bumhug. :)

So, yeah, after getting something resembling 3 hours of sleep last night, I had to lay down for a nap this afternoon. I was sitting on the couch watching the TechTV version of “Battlebots” and suddenly it hit me. I was out like a light. Over the course of the evening, I woke up enough to relieve my backpain by moving into a different laying position. This went on until 2:30am, when I finally woke up enough to say, “Y’know, I really should wake up some time, but why does it have to be now when everyone else is asleep? Damn.”

So here I am, it’s almost 4am, everyone but the pets are sleeping, and I’m wide awake and in need of a shower, some food, and a little bit of company.

Ah well. I’ll try to snap some quickcam shots around town and post them. I haven’t seen much of the town on this trip, but I already see some snapworthy crap. Feh.

Ok. Later.