It so bothers me so much when I forget things. Troy was telling me about the weird dreams he had last night, reminding me about the freaky dream I had as well. I thought about it on my way to work and also remembered that I had a freaky dream the previous night, though the details were unclear. I should have jotted down a note so that I wouldn't forget the details later on. Well, that's happened, and it's my nature to dwell. Maybe the details will surface through all the useless shit in my head - 8 hours later in the midst of karaoke..."Fuck I remember!! Oh... sorry everyone."

I should keep a journal next to my bed to jot down notes on my dreams before they dissapate. I should create a mini-site about these dreamscapes my mind comes up with. There are a lot of things I should do.

I hate when I mess up my link codes!!! I was saying he's got a David Morse vibe.

This guy is sooo witty!

Ron isn't such a bad guy. He's very sweet. It's sad to know that he was in love with a man who did nothing but push him away for 8 years. I just found out they "broke up" 3 weeks ago.

I have a new love. I couldn't find much on TV Sunday night given, what - my three channels - so I paused on Ice Bound. Adian Devine plays the quasi-love interest. He's got a

Monday, April 21, 2003

On Saturday, April 19th, I celebrated Devon's birthday; he threw a big birthday party for himself, even renting a stretch hummer limo. I had a good time dyeing my hair red and working toward the worse of the few hangovers of my life. After a disappointing dinner at the Red Foxx (I paid $35 for 4 jumbo shrips and tomato slices since we divided the bill evenly...if I had known we were going to do that I would have ordered of the cape cod shots they called a cocktail), eighteen other faggots and I pranced around all the San Diego bars adorned in red, black, and pink accessories. With my dyed hair, pink boa, prescription sunglasses and pink cocktail napkin sticking out my pocket, I was having a better-than-okay time. There was a guy named Aaron that everyone was lusting after; he looks like Ed Burns-as-mechanic, tattoos, cigarettes and all. He seems like a sweet guy; I need to work out LOL. Devon slapped me around a bit at the Loft when I said I was going to walk home from there; I only lived around the block. I don't think he will remember when I see him. I have to send him a thank you card.

Saturday was also my 4-year anniversary of moving back to San Diego. This day also marked the 1995 Oklahoma City Bombings and 1999 Columbine shootings. Happy Birthday, Devonia.

Ron is a big ole mess. He's still as charming as a snake; you know he's gone bite and poison you, but you're hypnotized. I'm onto David now. Well, I've been "onto" him for awhile. I've had a minor crush on him for almost 2 years now. He's so handsome, just like his brother.

I was so productive on Tuesday. So productive that I did absolutely nothing on Wednesday. Oh well. But I did get a lot done; turned in my overdue books, got gas, made my car payment, went grocery shopping, did laundry, answered e-mail, got my hair cut. Sense of accomplishment -- good! Since Dharma and Greg I've been in a much better mood.

Work is much better. I've been in a good mood for quite some time. I'm kinda distracted at work, but wanted to jot some stuff down while it was fresh in my head.

Man I need to:
Clean my room
Pay bills
Study
Clean-up right nav, or...
Redesign

My work rebranded last October, yet we're going to have a "relaunch of the brand" centered around the "comfort" of technology. So, I doubt I'll wanna fuck around with HTTP on this site for awhile longer.

http://www.worth1000.com/cache/contest/contestcache.asp?contest_id=876&display=photoshop#entries

Oh I remember what I wanted to say...

1. I've lost my personality
It actually disappeared some time ago. This, thankfully, was brought to my attention by Troy Davis. I think it suffocated underneath my extra weight, and when I lose it, I'll find it fossilized. It's actually only fossilized in text, documented when I was 18. I was reading ramblings I wrote a long, long time ago. I'm so blown away by the boy I used to be (I used the word "textualize" -- huh?). What happened to him? As Troy pointed out last night while we enjoyed the wafting cool breeze on the benches outside of Frys Electronics, I will never lose any of my weight; I won't accomplish any of the goals I talk about; I won't do anything until I first love myself. I know this -- I know everything, damnit, and therein lies part of the problem; I'm so tenacious that I don't listen to any advice I receive. It's my way, all or none. Knowning, however, and feeling are two different things.

When I see my therapist on Friday, I'm asking her to refer me to a psychiatrist so I may begin social anxiety medication or something. I feel so awkward in the most mundane of activies; today I picked and stared at my fingernails while ordering lunch at work and had to remind myself no body was looking at me.

2. I'm in love for the very first time again.
Actually, I'm not in love, but man, oh man, is Rob Ron a man! And his personally exacerbates my lack of one. He's originally for North Carolina, and he looks like the very first man I ever fell in love with named Larry. He's so engaging; he can go on and on talking non-stop about the most useless shit, unconsious about everything but surprisingly connected, and will not hestitate to tell you what he's thinking whether this information is warranted or not. My inability to hold a converstion, probably, went completely unnoticed except by me, of course, since I'm sensitive to everything; the heartbeat of a Mexican fruitfly, the struggle of the Basque people of Spain, the GNP of Boliva in 1973. I see this as if it was archived news footage running as a headline on CNN.

Ron reminds me of a Sims character I created with Larry in mind. I was making a sleezy Sims scenario true to gay life; xxx-tra hung big bad brutal body-builder top seeks insatiable bubble-butt boy bottom ... you know the type, or dream of him.

Why does depression fosters such creativity? Van Gogh comes to mind, poor 'lil ear. I'll write more later, maybe, if I feel like it. Meanwhile, "On the wings of love, only the two of us together flying high" in my own warped world. Actually, I'm not as ga-ga as this probably sounds. When I think about it, the orchestra cresendos for only a second or so. Then I see, in slow motion as I walk down a generic street, bulldozed buildings on fire, rain-sloshed streets reflecting the oscillating lights of firetrucks, while Louis Armstrong's "What a Wonderful World" is queued in the background.

It's nice to know someone is as neurotic as me; I like this man. Once again, I was inspired to write but when I have a moment to reflect, I have nothing to say.