• Siouxsie & the Banshees 
• Covering lots of ground around San Francisco with David 
• Meeting Sarah finally. 
• Lots of snogging 
• Hwy 1 to Santa Cruz and the scenic route up the Penninsula. 
• Chinatown 
• Ever more gluttony. I love it.

Now to deal with a rather dry May as far as trips are concerned. Next weekend is a show I want to see here in Fresno, the following weekend is Mother’s Day. But at least there’s Memorial day. I’ll now be counting down til then.

A few months ago, I had a little rant up about the use (and misuse) of the flag since 11 September. How horrified I was thus when I saw a purposely-beholed flag draped over the side of the Union Square Macy’s, whilst out for a stroll with David last Saturday. Now how stupid can a business be when it thinks it’ll attract patriotic customers by displaying a horribly maimed version of their flag? I understand that the high winds of the skyscraper-laden SF Financial Dist make flying a huge structure-mounted flag a cumbersome undertaking, but I for one, would have preferred Macys not fly the flag at all than fly one which they had so incredibly vandalized by punching dozens of holes all over. My assumption is that their management or marketing sups are just that stupid, but anyone less observant may actually take this to mean Macy’s has some problem with their home country. It only reinforces my belief that Macy’s sucks cow ass and would rather give a goat a 5-hour rimjob than provide anything I might actually want… 

So there’s the new rant. Hope the teaser yesterday didn’t make you expect more. Not much more going on tonight. It’s hot as hell. I’m too busy trying to avoid heatstroke in my own house to do any more updates…

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A week of lasts, coming up on a week of firsts. It’s odd that, as the day of my move approaches, it totally hasn’t hit me - all these lasts and firsts. I look back on my family, friends, acquaintances, people seen, places been. Everything I’ve experienced for the first quarter-century of my life (with a small few exceptions) has taken place in this town of Fresno.

As I prepare to leave, my emotions are somewhat mixed. I will miss many things about this place: the close proximity of my family, the friends I’ve retained, the handful of places which I truly enjoy. I will miss my sister, who has been my best friend for years. Pretty much ever since I started college, Sis and I have been the most functional part of my entire faminly, including extended - which I admit is at times not saying much. But I appreciate all the things she’s done for me over the years, and the great ear and eye she’s leant. She gave me my first Cure tape when I was still in 4th grade, and gave me my home for the past three years. She has come to me for counsel in her times of need and been a willing counsel in my (somewhat more numerous) times of need as well.

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Tomorrow, MurderingMouth moves to San Francisco. I would like to wish the whole Fresno crew a wonderful life. I’ll be back when the weekend is past with all the trials and tales of the move.

My apologies. I didn’t have any internet from home all week (still don’t…), and when I finally got around to checking my email from work, I realized that my mailbox had filled up and then been wiped out. If you’ve sent me anything over the past week, try resending it using the Contact form or the Message Board.

I really don’t know how the fuck my whole box got filled in only one week, since it only tends to average a couple emails each day. Anyone thinking of sending me big files or junk, do me a favor and don’t .

Updates when the DSL is back up. I promise.

Whilst I try to maintain a maximum of 10 days worth of entries on the front page, I realize it’s been more than ten days since my last entry. Time sure drags on when you’re having fun.

No real excuses on the lack of updates. They’re definitely wanting. I’ve been busy and lots of stuff has been happening. I should update the “about me” section just to bring it up to speed with the new location/situation… I should get back into the swing of advertising my trading section (by the way, a few more have been added over the last week)… I should pull down the message board, since no one really seems to care anymore… I should write a new essay (the one I’ve currently got brewing is “Our Castrated Military”)…

And yet… Motivation is my need du jour. I did manage to revise my “anniversary essay” and post it in the Essays section, rather than in the journals. A short recap of the past couple weeks is all you get right now: Still trying to get myself situated and cozy; a few bits of major housekeeping are still required before I’ll be there. The internet connection is a source of constant frustration, and it’s like pulling teeth just to get SBC to do anything about it. Then there’s the idea that I’m suppoed to be doing a portion of my work from home, which is constantly frustrated by a lack of facilities for such a task.

The method of escape from the Annual Sunday (weekend?) of Terror was a trip down the coast to Monterey. Staying at the Motel 6 in Marina allowed us the opportunity to get thoroughly creeped out at the Nearby Ruins and experience the true wonder which is the commercial strips of old cities. I love Monterey. We treated ourselved to a super Indian meal, which included belly dancers and spicy food out the wazoo. Long walks through the tourist traps, without really feeling horribly touristy. Cool little used bookstores and even a couple stops at the local big box chains. Hell, we even managed to get the laundry done in Pacific Grove. All in all, a far far far more pleasant weekend than would have been experienced had we been required to hunker down in the trenches South of Market.

The next few weeks will feature my attempt to tackle the refurbishment of the bathroom. It will be a tough task for a relative novice handyman, not to mention the task of keeping the place useable so that David doesn’t kill me in the process. Things are still going better than I ever imagined they’d go.

Yeah, September was a rather dry month for journals. Sorry to those who have endeavored to keep up with me the past month. I almost feel guilty doing a journal entry when I’ve got so much email I haven’t answered…

But at least this way I can send an impersonal update to everyone at once…

The past week was mostly about work work work. Thursday involved buying a router to eliminate the ugly cords hanging over everyhing in the office (but didn’t resolve the other DSL-related issues, alas…), Friday was new tires for David and new pants for me, along with a gluttonous trip to Oakland/ Emeryville for dinner and desert with Dan, Jamie and the landlord. Yes, I actually have a likeable landlord still. I’ve been lucky thus far.

Yesterday David & I took a trip on his new tires, scoring me a few more pairs of pants (I actually have 5 pairs that I like now!), a few more DVDs (as if we need more…) and a trip to Treasure Island. The Island was a bit on the creepy side, similar to the ruins of Fort Ord, with only a fraction of the buildings in use. The population seemed to be very wealthy ethnic minorities, at least from the samples visible in the late afternoon. I’d be interested in seeing what the place looks like in another few years.

Now these were the San Francisco days I was looking forward to… The relentless wind, the sun gone missing, the homeless back in their shelters (most of the time), and me clinging to my coffee morning and afternoon both.

It’s horribly out of fashion now, but I warn y’all that I’m composing one of those 100 Things About Me nonsenses. Coming soon to a link near you.

For several weeks now, my City has been under terrorist attack. Many people remember the attacks on New York in 2001. Although I wouldn’t claim that the attacks on San Francisco this month were quite as severe, I would argue that they exceed the qualifications of terrorist actions compared to those perpetrated in September of 2001.

The logical definition of terrorism is actions or threats which cause “terror” in those to whom the actions or threats are directed. Terror should be qualified, of course, to mean something more severe than mere inconvenience or change in habits. Terror in men is the conscious confirmation that life as it needs to be led is impossible - that the actions of an outside force are causing a threat to one’s life and the pursuit of that which furthers its goals and success.

The goal of San Francisco’s terrorist population is the destruction of life. The results of their actions have been the destruction of the motors of the City. Everyone touched by the actions of the terrorists have seen their lives changed in a destructive way. This is what is meant by terrorism, and why they as individuals and as a group can be classified as nothing else. Their actions surpass the terrorist nature of those of the September 2001 terrorists in many ways, if not (yet) with the latter’s destructive results. Their actions have touched me personally in ways the September 2001 actions never could have, both due to the proximity of the activity and the nature of the terrorists themselves.

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I don’t think I ever planned it to be this way, it just happened. I was absorbed by my work, out of touch with the social scenes, in a new town, and I just slipped away from everyone and everything pretty much…

I honestly wanted to stay in touch, really. Sometimes in the early morning or late at night, I think of all the people left behind; from my sister to my parents to my friends Amy and Lauren… I know it’s easy to pick up a phone, but for some reason the desire and conviction to do so never hits me when the time is right. It only hits me when I’m sleepless at 4am and getting reflective. I know doing this is driving me ever further away from them all.

This is the same thing which ended my web log last year: the inexplicable inability to remain in touch. I keep putting off a phone call here, a letter there, a visit here, a reminder there… and suddenly the days turn into months. I feel like I’ve only been gone a few weeks, only to realise that things have changed rapidly in that time span, that peoples’ lives don’t freeze in time when I’m not involved in them.

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Has it really been a year? A year since I drove to work, a year since I had Wednesday coffee with Amy, a year since I stopped commuting to San Francisco every weekend, a year since I could pop by Club Fred or the Den on a weeknight for a pint or three, a year since I worked in the family business… It’s so strange, since it doesn’t seem that long ago.

It has not felt like a year. In addition to the weather-related element, this truly has been a year in the fog. I’ve felt that strange unreal drunkenness for a year now. The clouded sense of place that comes from being plunked down in a new job, in a new home, in a new environment; working in a new job which demands more of me than I’ve ever given before, living in a slice of domestic bliss I never imagined possible, in a City full of strangely plastic people who seem incapable of comprehending that their planet is larger than a few square miles, and that a plane ride or trip across a bridge is not an interstellar journey.

I’ve contemplated what I prefer about my life this past year. First and most obvious is being married. I never thought it would suit me so well, but I’ve grown into it pretty fittingly, and it seems to get more pleasant and enjoyable every passing day, week and month. There’s the job: the job I struggle at, the job I have put my entire being into without any clear expectation of what it means for my future, but continuing to squeeze every ounce of motivation and energy of my being into. It’s strange how one can truly focus such a massive force into a task one never expected to perform, or do it routinely, or well. I never really thought my future lay in corporate finance, and I never thought I’d be any good at something I didn’t specifically enjoy outside of the timeclock’s grip, but here I am, and it looks like the long haul. Time will tell what sorts of fulfillment it truly brings.

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Now I remember why it was so hard to keep this journal going before: If I’m as swamped in my day-to-day now as I feel, I can only imagine how much worse it’s going to get when I start attending SFSU late next month…

As a recap ion the Thanksgiving debacle: My parents are very warm, wonderful people. However, they have an incredibly difficult time understanding the idea that the choice of mate of their offspring neither reflects on them personally nor on their performance as parents. They are steadfastly convinced that my choice of spouse is something that, if ever revealed to their friends and neighbors (at least the one or two who don’t already know) will permanently tarnish their image in the eyes of the world. Thus, they refuse exposure to said spouse.

I really honestly love my parents. I think their close, loving upbringing gave me many of the positive traits and abilities I possess today. They did not pluck my feathers while teaching me to fly, as so many parents seem to do in our stiflinig world of today. I only wish that they could be proud of their son, as their son, and not just prefer parts of that son…

So for now, my holidays will be on the “split” system: luckily, we only really celebrate 3: Independence Day, Thanksgiving and Xmas. So the rotate should be easy, and I’ll continue to visit often for non-holiday events… It’s gonna make me feel like a Jehovah’s Witness…

I need coffee…

Still married and massively pleased with it. I must say I’m more excited than ever about the prospect that this might not be so easily quashed by the courts…

Along those lines, please all join David and I at Tad’s Steaks on Powell Street this Friday (8-o’clockish) for a little marriage celebration. A small group at most, but that’s all we need. It’s not to be called a Reception, as it’s a serve-yourself no-frills event, but I hope to see some pleasant faces nonetheless.

Even though I’m not buying you dinner, please feel free to buy us gifts from our respective Amazon Wish Lists (David, Mark).

The family business drama is as close to resolved as it’s going to be anytime soon. The counts of theft, fraud, and forgery have all but entirely been accounted for, but the balance of the clean-up work must now be passed on to the individuals who actually work for my dad these days. I’ve done what I can for now. I need a weekend off…

I knew I was a whimp. But today I overcame it a little. Rather than ignoring the fact that the girl I saw on the bus every day looked a lot like my old high school buddy Kelly, I snapped as we stepped off at the same stop: “Is your name Kelly?” and guess what? It was.

It’s strange how paths can cross so closely after so many years. We’ve been in and out of contact since high school (10 years, gawd!), maybe an annual email or so… And now I find she works around the corner from my own office…

Just thought I’d post it here to remember it happened. I might actually discover more people I remember in this world if I’d just speak up more often…