Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in tenthofamoment's LiveJournal:

[ << Previous 20 ]

Wednesday, March 19th, 2008
12:04 am	Purged. rmadman dot livejournal (Comment on this)
Tuesday, March 11th, 2008
10:30 pm	Our Sister Gertrude * God dammit. Overslept again. Hm. No time for a shower. No, that's rather unfortunate, considering I worked last night. How is today going again? Bridgeport Hospital. Commute to work. Work, then Buddhism. But when can I study? And then Simone. And I haven't read for that, either. God dammit. * He looked a lot better than I expected, given the wreck of a car in the Connecticut Post the day before. Playing WoW again, already. I'd reinstall for him. Although I suppose that'd also be for me. But better than before, for sure. He asked to hug me when I entered. That was sweet. He hasn't changed, really, hardly seems to be "recovering" as it were. No cell phone reception in the hospital. Mild inconvenience, to be sure. And how many accidents must they have in this garage? Out earlier than expected. Time enough to drop off Paul and offer to buy Corey breakfast. I could use the company. Back on the highway. The on-ramp is bittersweet. Hm? What? A call from my father. * God dammit. We're fighting again. I'm actually in tears. Never really understood how he does that to me. The fellow at the gas station was nice. First time for full service. Couldn't find my credit card and couldn't be bothered to stop talking. Fighting. Whichever. Has he really not seen anything that's been going on? Well, I never did consider him much of a father. More of a guardian and a friend. Not the kind of friend you'd drive to see, but who you'd have lunch with on a Saturday afternoon in the mall when you walked into the store he just left. My eyes are still puffy. God dammit. * ... is that a body on the highway? * God dammit. Underslept this time. Three hours until the funeral. Not safe to go back to sleep. Hm. The alarm didn't wake Paul. I hear the water running. An entire household going to work. Not really much to do then. Stay quiet on the floor. Don't sleep. Don't sleep. Don't sleep. Change up your thoughts so as to not fall asleep. And above all else, don't sleep. Do I really want to go? Should I? Yes, I already decided on that bit. Any discussion of 'should' is based on what was said the other day and is just making excuses. Although maybe not the funeral. Just the mass. Driving in the procession would be awkward. I'll see how I feel. Don't sleep. A few hours left. * I'm always thankful when Paul's grandmother isn't downstairs when I go to shower in his house. I always expect her to be waiting outside the door, arms crossed, screaming, "White boy! Give me back my water! Naked in my house?! Get out!" * God dammit. Misjudged how much time I had. Straight to the church without breakfast. Surprisingly easy to find. Walk the grounds a bit, then. Learn the area. Hm. Should call Paul to confirm. Yes, I was right. I hate that, sometimes. Ah. Across the street. There they are. I wonder if this constitutes loitering. I... can't find the entrance. Hm. An elderly couple pulled in back. I should follow them. It's hard to follow a lady with a walker without making it obvious that you're following her. Held the door open, at least. Hm. So my Led Zeppelin incense does, indeed, smell like church. I think Catholicism is the only religion with an odor. Not quite 10 yet. * There she is. * Glory be to God. Lord, hear our prayer. Our father who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done on earth as it is in Heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our tresspasses as we forgive those who trespass against us. Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. The first food in my stomach this day is the body of Christ. She was always baking. * There she is. Thank you. * ... Hm. What time is it? 5:30am? God dammit. (Comment on this)
Monday, March 3rd, 2008
10:27 pm	I feel survivors' guilt for events that I'm not involved in, because I'm in school instead of getting my EMT training. (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Thursday, January 17th, 2008
8:02 pm	(2 Comments |Comment on this)
Monday, September 10th, 2007
1:25 am	Pro et contra, latin for "for and against." The first use of "pro and con" attested 1400ce. Progress, attested 1432ce, from the latin progressus, loosely translated to mean "a step forward." Congress - sense of a "meeting of delegates" first recorded in 1678. Interesting enough, descends from similar roots of progress and comes to mean meeting, particularly a hostile encounter. The con- prefix here descends from "com-" for "with." So no. Congress is not the opposite of progress. And it's not all that funny or witty to begin with. (2 Comments |Comment on this)
Thursday, August 23rd, 2007
11:02 pm	I've been having terrible, haunting premonitions of the deaths of several people I care about most. It's that time of the year, I suppose. It all sorta hit me at work today. I'm, quite honestly, terrified of what the next few days may hold. It's possible a few people understand why, but unlikely. When I feel better, I may be compelled to explain. If you call me for any reason, please leave a message. I will otherwise assume the worst. (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Monday, August 13th, 2007
12:11 am	Excerpt from an Intended Entry ... and it makes me feel fragile. Reminds me... ... listening intently to her heartbeat... ... playing the rhythm reflexively and hearing it align with my own... ... watching the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed, silent triumphs every time she inhaled. And I wonder if I still have the capacity to feel that way again. If I'll have the fortune. (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Thursday, June 21st, 2007
1:08 am	I think my piercings are reaching the end of their lifespan. My mom just got a new puppy. A black labrador retriever whom they've decided to name Shaboo. He's insufferably cute and playful. We've had him for four days now. Mom and Dad were terribly depressed after Shaquille died and they realized how integral he was to their daily routine. They carry the puppy around like a baby. Maybe after seeing Hadrien and Adrianna they just want someone to dote over and are too old for kids. I came upstairs the other day to see the puppy playing with Shaquille's old toys. I'm not ready for that yet. He was my dog, and this is my mother's dog, and apparently I'm not quite settled with his death. The other morning I hallucinated and saw him come into my bedroom after I woke up. My father and I got Shaboo some new toys so that we could tuck away Shaquille's. He's growing on me, though. Very soft and bite-y. Today, as I was getting ready to go out for the evening, I realized something. I was sick. My nose began running and I had sneezing fits. In the space of two hours, I ran through three rolls of toilet paper and some Sudafed. During the last year of Shaquille's life, he started shedding this thick grime that set off my allergies, and resulted in me perpetually having sneezing fits from May, when I came home from school, to this previous March, shortly after he'd been put down and the house had been cleaned enough time to remove the smell. I miss the white hair on everything. Ever since, I've been having trouble around pets. I can't go to Ben's any more because their cats set off my allergies for days at a time. My last stay of more than thirty minutes left me sick from Saturday to Tuesday. So I'm allergic to my mother's dog. Maybe this is Shaquille's way of saying "No one else." God, I miss him. So what should I do now? They know it's Shaboo causing my fits, and my mom keeps offering to give the dog up. I laugh and say it was just dust from working in the back room at Brooks, or similar such nonsense. I think this is a sign that I should finally move out. (4 Comments |Comment on this)
Thursday, May 31st, 2007
11:59 pm	In 78 hours, I'll be airborne and on my way to Japan. It hasn't quite sunk in yet. (4 Comments |Comment on this)
Tuesday, May 15th, 2007
8:58 pm	Glory on the Highest Today, if you believe in the Judeo-Christian God, then Jerry Falwell arrived in Hell with the greatest look of omgwtfbbq on his face that history has born witness too. I noticed my first bit of heterosexual bias in the media the other day. Surely, I'd thought, that in a progressive place like Connecticut, where Gay-Straight Alliances outnumber football teams 2-to-1 and 90% of my friends list self-identifies as gay or bisexual, surely the homophobia would stay far, far away, in places south of the Mason-Dixon line where they still use terms like "Mason-Dixon line." Then I saw a commercial spot for Valtrex, a drug designed to control the spread and outbreak of herpes. The ad featured a young man, a carrier, and his wife. The overall message was that, yes, he had herpes, but she didn't, and they wanted to keep it that way. But across the bottom of the screen was the following disclaimer, mildly paraphrased: "Only proven to be effective in heterosexual couples." The statement seems innocuous at first, but upon closer inspection, is pretty damn biased. Apparently, the drug was engineered to contain gaydar. "Hold on a second!" says valacyclovir, "this man is a homosexual! Come on, esterase, we're getting out of here!" Maybe what they meant to say was "not proven to be effective in anal intercourse" or, most appropriately, "only proven to be effective in vaginal intercourse." Rather, as it is, it raises some interesting questions. Has GlaxoSmithKline actually succeeded in creating a wonderdrug that's weirded out by homosexuality? Can herpes be spread during fellatio if you suddenly recall that one time you and your roommate had a drunken college experiment? Does heterosexual anal sex not transmit herpes with the aid of Valtrex? Sentient drugs - the wave of the future! (4 Comments |Comment on this)
Friday, May 11th, 2007
9:37 am	Filler I wasn't going to do this, until I saw the fourth to last item. Your Name: Jimi Famous Musical Artist/Group: Jethro Tull / Janet Joplin 3-Letter Word: Jig Street Name: Evergreen Terrace. I couldn't think of a good J-street, but hey. I live a half-mile from the Simpson's. Color: Jewgold Gift/Present: Jumbalayah Vehicle: Jetpack Show: Jimmy Neutron, Boy Genius. Also my nickname back in the day. Country: Jamaican scientists say spotted bananas have 170% more magnesium. Boy's Name: Jesus Girl's Name: Jesusina Alcoholic Drink: Jameson Irish Whiskey Occupation: Jumprope enthusiast Flower: Juniper (conifers > flowers) Celebrity: Jesus, again Something Found in a Kitchen: JUMBALAYAH! You're 67. Reason for Being Late: Wait for it Wait for it ... ... Jimi vomited. Feeling: Jealous rage Animal: Jumping beans (technically) Something You Shout: Jumping Jehosaphat! (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Sunday, May 6th, 2007
8:50 pm	Re: You're not even as close to certain as you think you are. Otherwise we wouldn't be having these discussions. You're asking us for advice, at least superficially. But you're going to hear what you want to hear. What you're really looking for is an affirmation of your decisions. And you're not going to get one. As much as I like being listened to, this is a rare instance where I won't pander to the audience. Why? Because I've walked that road many times before. Four or five times, if memory serves. And I've gone through the pain and depression that you're about to start feeling. I've spent more hours bogged down in regret and self-loathing than I'd like to admit. I've missed a lot of sleep, and ditched a lot of friends. You say you need to leave. You need to get away from all of this. But all you're doing is putting yourself in a position to have that hope dangled in front of you again and again, and in a place where you'll have no one that really cares about you. You're grasping at straws. Those opportunities are getting rarer, and more desperate, and more unlikely, and all that's going to do is make you want them more. I've been there. Months spent hoping and thinking and planning because, dammit, you can make it work. You can't. My only hope is that I'll be here to pick up your pieces. (Comment on this)
Saturday, May 5th, 2007
7:05 am	A-holy crap. I just had the most intense zombie survival dream EVER. At two points, I woke up for about 30 seconds, with no recollection of the dream, but as soon as I fell asleep, it was right back on again. Here's some of what was in it: Anime Boston Another Anime Boston A double-sacrifice jutsu (which broke my heart, because of the killer character development of my subconscious) Extreme zombie-motorcycle combat Pokemon cosplay Comedic zombie combat, complete with background music that may or may not have been a.) the Benny Hill theme song or b.) the Pirates of the Carribean soundtrack during the wooden cage escape scene. Tearful goodbyes A search for a cure for 'zombie tetanus' A sewer escape led by Shino from Naruto Infestation of a private school or mental institution leading to the loss of the ditzy popular girl ZOMBIES ON A TRAIN! A hotel with a train running through it, where the length of the room was the length of the car so the train could stop and you'd be in the hotel room. A zombie attack led by Lady Sylvanas of World of Warcraft A high-speed mining cart chase A second high-speed mining cart chase Barricading inside of the imaginary Brooks that I always picture when I have a work dream Ghosts, particularly that of a sociopathic teenage demolitions expert Gangster rap Pimped-out rides Hurricanes An ex-girlfriend's family Dinner plate weaponry Thanksgiving on a beach with Uncle Jesse from Full House (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Thursday, March 22nd, 2007
3:11 pm	The rant is basically finished. There was more to it, but the desire I had to write has subsided: at this point, it would be a chore to continue. Still behind on schoolwork. Today I'm going to start (and finish) two essays that were due last week. Interesting things. I'm about 85% sure. (Comment on this)
Tuesday, March 13th, 2007
9:51 pm	Respite. Completely in sync(h?) with Daylight Savings Time, the feeling of unease I get throughout the winter lifted today. It was sunny and warm and I felt okay. Of all the people I've ever met, there are five or six that really matter to me and make me happy, and I got to spend the afternoon with two of them. The lengthy post will resume once I've caught up on homework. But I'm starting to feel like me again. Well, one of me. Edited 3/16/07: This is why I'm leaving New England. (Comment on this)
Monday, March 12th, 2007
3:36 pm	( Three. ) (4 Comments |Comment on this)
Sunday, March 11th, 2007
12:08 pm	( Two. ) (3 Comments |Comment on this)
Saturday, March 10th, 2007
12:20 am	1.2 Wind Upon further consideration and in light of my current crisis of attempting to locate my debit card, I'm going to do this epic post in many consecutive posts over the next few days, in synergy with my fleeting attention span. I apologize for the somewhat flooded friend pages, but if that's such a concern I probably don't care if you remove me. ( One. ) (1 Comment |Comment on this)
12:05 am	Once a week, for the last year or so, I've walked in through my garage door with the intent of writing a certain LiveJournal entry. Explaining my insecurities, reasoning, personalit(y/ies), my unhealthy relationship with games. And every week, this post gets longer and longer, as I think of more things that must be added to create an entry I will be content with. And upon entering my house, something will happen. I'll get distracted, or suddenly feel tired, or realize that the post will offend someone or make a situation awkward, and I forget about the post for a short while. But, honestly, I intend to write it tomorrow. Tonight if I find a second wind. (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Thursday, March 8th, 2007
12:10 pm	Lordship and Bondage (Master-Slave) Aufheben is a German word (root word of the English upheaval) with no English equivalent. It has contradictory meanings; namely, "to lift up," "to abolish," and "to sublate." For history to progress, each stage from the original stage of history must be "lifted up" into a new stage, which comes progressively closer to the end stage of history. Thus each successive stage of history both preserves and changes the stage before it. Thus the basis of the master-slave dialectic. Initially, Hegel offers: On approaching the other it has lost its own self, since it finds itself as an other being; secondly, it has thereby sublated that other, for it does not regard the other as essentially real [real in the concepts a pre-self-consciousness] , but sees its own self in the other. It is thus the act of submission by the slave that creates the master, who is inherently unaware of his role. While maintaining lordship over the slave, he appears to be in power, but this power is only the result of the slave's submission in the first place; thus, the power rests with the slave, not the master. This becomes apparent at the end of the master's tenure, the beginning of the next conflict. Preservation and change. Destruction of a thing, and, in that destruction, the creation of something closer to the ideal. Purer. (1 Comment |Comment on this)