It is mid November, already Thanksgiving break (beginning tomorrow), and I'm doing extremely well. (No work or school on Thursday and Friday- paid days off baby, hell yes!)

I'm currently at straight A's. My essays and papers are praised and hailed as the work of intelligence.

I'm working and doing well as a loader at UPS. I've been working on a promotion, and after having my assessment last night, I'm confident that the job is as good as mine.

Becoming a supervisor at UPS will grant a salary that starts at $1500 a month (after taxes) for 27.5 hours of work per week (you are given "overtime", or extra money, for additional hours worked in a week). Although I will be working 6 days a week until after Christmas, I will be making some very good dough.

If (and when, heh) I get this job, I'll be able to pay all of my bills (including an extra $100 a month in rent) with only half of my monthly income. I can therefore afford to pay for my classes and books, the internet, things to get my computer running, an auto mechanic for my car. I can form a savings account, and have reason to get a new credit card (to work on building up my credit).

I can begin to pay back my past debts (which currently amount to under $6,000, so it's possible to get out of debt completely within a year or two). I was deemed ineligible for financial aid due to my mother receiving a modest amount of child support for my younger brother, and a refund on her federal taxes. (Even though our combined income for the year is lower than the poverty level, I'm ineligible. FUCK FAFSA.)

I'm also receiving a student loan in order to break some of the stress in between now and the promotion. (I'll be able to wear khaki's and a polo to work. I will no longer have to get dirty and drink a gallon of water while I'm there to avoid dehydration.)


I've lost over 40 pounds since I began working out in Sacramento (so...40 pounds in 4 months).

I feel great. I feel like I look great. I should have abs in not too long.

Doing wonderfully.

I'm absolutely wonderful. Stressed the fuck out- money, five page essay assignments due every week, double shifts at work, no gas in my van. Very stressful, but I'd rather be here than where I was.

I am triumph.
I am triumph.

Not quite exhausted to the point that I am mortified, but I am definitely being tested each day.

Classes are going wonderfully. I haven't scored 100% on every assignment, in every class, as I was planning to do, but I suppose that's okay. A 93% is good enough, I guess. But it still pisses me off. I'm capable of straight A's, and I plan on obtaining them by December. (I've got some BAD grades for my first semester at UNR that I'm going to have to fight for the next 4 years.)

I got myself into one of those intensive 6 week courses for math 95. I'm glad. You do spend about 6 hours in the classroom per week, homework 4 nights of the week (due the very next day), but the hours are the hardest part. Homework is a breeze. I'll actually be completing the class in 30 days, and got myself into the math 96 intensive (mini) session starting late October. So... I will have taken care of a year's worth of math prerequisite courses in a single term. I can get into math 120 this spring, and then be done with math completely.

None of the other courses are difficult either. They're boring- I don't feel tested, or tried. I read some of the single page reading logs others students had written for English 101. I was stunned. Absolutely stunned. College students...

But I guess it feeds my ego, and I haven't felt that wonderful feeling in awhile.

I have to stop answering questions that the instructor's ask, because they'll sometimes ignore me and just nod, and keep looking at the other students. So I just sit back and listen, and not answer the questions I know the answer to. (The other students talk to me less.)

Tons of attractive people at this college. A few that are given me some eye love. But I'm trying to stay focused.

Still getting into shape- eating well, regardless of how much effort it takes. (Packing a full lunch and snacks for the day every morning.)

The hardest part about this is money. If I wasn't worrying about finding a new job, and paying the bills, this school thing would be a breeze. Next semester should be better- I'll have my scholarship back, and perhaps some financial aid. But I may have to beg my father to lend me money to pay the other half of tuition by October 5th.

Weeks go by quickly. It feels like just yesterday I was saying, "God, it's only Monday. I wish it was the weekend." And now it's Thursday, the last day of classes. I'm most likely leaving for California either tonight, or tomorrow morning. I have that dentist appointment to have my crown finished... finally.

I must be at work in 10 minutes. The bookstore is getting lame. If I want to stay there, I have to work split shifts. I've cut my hours in order to actually have time to look for other jobs. Otherwise, I'd be at this college from 9am, to 6:30p. But I'm loving this being busy shit.

Have submited a handful of applications, and sent my resume to a variety of job openings posted on the internet. Maybe something will come through.

Trying not to stress until it's time to. Things will come through.

Had a great weekend with Deidre and all associated couples. Had a temporaril lapse in self-confidence. But quickly re attained it this morning after a workout that showed some improvement. I was able to get through half my normal workout without breaking a single drop of hot sweat.

Got up before my alarm clock even went off. That's so damn satisfying.

Went to Gay pride with Maygan yesterday. Slightyl disappointing, but the drag queens singing hispanic music really made it worth it. Will finish typing this later when I don't have a cute dude checking me out from across the way. He's distracting me.

Love.

Everything went according to planned yesterday. Arrived in Reno before it got dark, which was my goal. I wanted a few hours to unload and relax until I got into bed.

Did some laps in the swimming pool last night when I realized that I hadn't 'officially' worked out in a couple of days. (Have spent all of my time and energy with packing, loading, unloading, unpacking.) So while Deidre, a guy friend of hers, and Anna (another friend of hers) were lying down watching a movie, and eating twizzlers, chocolate covered raisens, and snickers bars, I hauled my ass out to the water. (Doing laps isn't as easy as it seems. I got myself to do 10 laps, (crossing the pool 20 times in total), but had to break halfway, and get 30 seconds of breath before I tried for another lap. My stomach ended up cramping badly, though I had eaten longer than a half an hour before. I need to quit smoking fags. I have shit for breath.

Am in the library on campus. About to walk into my first day at this new job in about 45 minutes. Am nervous. But I also worked out this morning, and so I feel more relaxed than I usually am before starting a new job. (I'll usually be shaking and trembling right now.)

Even though I'm nervous, and fighting for confidence, I'm going to walk in there with my head high and my shoulders back, and say, "Good afternoon" with a charming smile, and pursue the minor lessons with esteem.

A 5 hour shift that I hope will go smoothly.

Deidre also made a charming proposition. She offered that if Justin moved out (which he's been talking about doing for a couple of weeks) then she could pay a litle more rent herself so that I could afford to have his room. (I can't afford $450 a month in rent. But I could do $300, possibly $350.) And she also offered to pay me modestly to watch Gavin for two hours three times a week.

Will be going by to apply for a job at Fedex tomorrow after work. They pay more, and it's a great opportunity to get more exercise. (With all the lifting and shit.) I'd be able to stay in the back, away from people, and not have to find my normally solemn facial expression. I could sweat, comfortably, and not have to dress to impress.

This transition is difficult. I'm slightly frightened, but I'm going to handle it well. I'm sure of it. I want this too badly.

And in proof, I had a nightmare my first night here in Reno. I dreamt that firstly, Deidre and I were living together again but in my mother's house. Deidre was pissed at me for the house being filthy.

And then I had been late for my first day of classes. AND that I slept through my first day of work.

I woke up nearly sick, took me a good 5 minutes to calm myself and realize that it was only a dream.

A dream.

Well, I've got 70 percent of my things packed up in the back of my van. What is not packed is the shit that I'm going to keep with me- debating on whether or not I should load it all now so that I may have room to clean everything down. (Still have to clean the kitchen, bathroom, dining room table, and vacuum everything.) But would have to run out there to get clothes and toiletries for my last night and morning here.

Dentist appointment lasted 2 hours today, so I feel as though I'm running a little behind. Can't leave without running by and saying goodbye to my father and grandmother.

When Grandma (the materal one) came home today while I was packing, I knew that when I would ask her how her day was, she would say "bad" like she usually does. She came in with a rotten look on her face, pitiful, and told me that she didn't eat the peanut butter sandwich I made her. The bread was hard. (It was not. It just wasn't as soft as dough, as it was the end of the loaf. She is beyond picky.)

And so, instead of eating the sandwich with less than perfectly soft bread, she simply did not eat any food all day. And so, naturally, she was feeling sick and pukey. I told her... you're sick because you refused to eat. (Do you want this? "No" Do you want this? "No" Do you want this? "No")

And perhaps Grandma, you wouldn't be throwing up if you weren't smoking down cigarettes like air on a sick empty stomach.

She holds the pink bucket in her lap, and makes it known that she was throwing up. I rinse it out when she's done and go back to my packing.

She sits there for over an hour and a half with a pitiful look on her face- her eyes closed, her lips puckered inward and down... and for a half an hour, was literally whimpering. Whimpering for attention like a puppy, like a child. (A fully sane woman turning to these tricks.)

And so like you have to do with a child, I ignored it, then called her out on it, "Grandma... are you whimpering?" with a shocked look on my face. "Yeah"

I do feel bad for leaving her, but I do not think it fair that everyone grew so dependent on me being here.

I told her, "Grandma.. I HAVE to go to Reno. I'm sorry, but I have to." "I know"

Eventually, she got bored with it and sat down in her sofa chair to watch the movie I put on for noise.

She knows what she's doing. She's making it harder for me to leave.

But I'm leaving anyways... I'm leaving.

Mother ended up getting a small loan (about 400 bucks) to cover the half of my tuition due on Thursday. I'll be able to walk in and pay it tomorrow, and pay her back early next week when my paycheck arrives.

Well, I am about to load up the computer. I'll update when I'm in Reno, and most likely sitting in the library at the community college.

Wish me luck.

Didn't wake up until noon, but I let myself release the disappointment. I didn't even get to sleep until after 3am, so my body demanded the sleep it required, and I felt awake today. (I ended up jumping up awake after I rather disturbing dream about fighting a lunatic- a large bulky young white guy with shaved dirty blond hair, he was a murderer, someone that liked to kill and keep the corpses. I was trying to protect two others from him, and remember hitting him as hard as I could in the face to stop him. But it did nothing. He simply stared at me. The dream ended with the sight of someone wearing a dead body that didn't belong to them. I vividly remember the dead face- and remember hearing MYSELF narrating, honestly describing the tangled hair, the dead dimpled skin. I woke up after the person wearing the corpse smiled, and a chunky black substance poured out from between the teeth, something that looked like black caviar, but was shiny.) lol Don't think I'm crazy, please. But I was kind of amused that I was narrating the dream. Only a writer dreams like that.

But anyways, woke up and wrote that very decent journal entry while sipping my coffee, while going over my goals. (But before that- a breakfast of two scrambled eggs cooked with non-stick cooking spray, one slice of wheat toast with a thin layer of peanut butter, and a piece of cold chicken breast, and a glass of water.)

Did my chest and tricep workout. (4 sets of pushups, 15 reps each- jumping jacks before the pushups to get warmed up, plenty of stretching, a set of crunches and leg lifts to bust out an extra sweat) Drank a large liter of water to get hyrdated for the day.

Read a very good chapter in my book while taking a shit. Took a shower, and weighed myself.

I'm down an additional 2 or 3 pounds. A total of 5 to 7 pounds in two weeks- done the right way. No starving. The reward of effort.

I can't even describe how I feel. About everything. Even the financial worries don't seem as deep. I feel secure, content, confident, proud.

It's become a habit to recite self affirmations while going about my day. "I believe i myself, I believe in myself, I believe in myself" while brushing my teeth. Envisioning walking into my first day of work with calm speech, a confident strut, a comfortable smile.

Fuck marijuana.

-Develop a list of short and long term goals

-Develop a schedule and routine, live by said schedule each day to get the most out of my time

-In the mornings, while having my two cups of coffee, go over my goals, and speak my self affirmations (part of a daily spiritual practice)

-Develop said self-affirmations

-Do not smoke pot. You know why, Christopher. It takes two or three days (even after two or three small hits) to develop the mindfulness and energy you had before you smoked it. Your goals are too important to you now. Those hits are not worth it. They are not healthy for you. They do not empower you. That is not your life anymore. That is not who you are. That is not who you deserve to be.

-Remember what J. said. "Believe in yourself, it's all that matters."

-Believe in yourself, it's all that matters.

-Learn yoga soon, for the days when you're muscles are aching too badly to weight lift. The stretch can feel amazing.


So, I was looking out back after convincing my grandmother to open both the doors and get some light and sound in the apartment, and realized that all my tubs on the porch were left open. I wander out, and find that one is completely empty. Can't remember if I was the one that emptied it from packing up all my books.

And that also, another tub was opened and a bag inside of it (that I had a lot of old toiletries and pills in) was sitting up, and also left open.

I do not believe that I left all of those tubs opened, but I am missing a whole stack of cd's and cd jewel cases. I am very sure that I had them out there in one of those tubs.

It is strange. I hate being a victim of thievery. It has happened a few times before, and always with things that I treasured, (like my first Nike zip up binder in 7th grade, my first deck of tarot cards freshman year) and I hate how it makes you feel. Loss.

Luckily, I had taken in all of my books, not that most of the people we live by would be able to read them or anything. But I did lose a stack of cd's I hadnt listened to in over a year, and a very nice Sony cd player that I had stored with it.

Others would suggest to me that this is karma. I tried to remember the last time I stole something- those crates from the back of WalGreens. (But prior to that- the last thing I stole was a sandwich or other piece of food from someone's lunch when I was a sophomore in high school- I was broke, and my stomach ached, and the lunch had been sitting there the whole lunch period without an owner in sight.)

The older I grow, the less I believe in such order in the universe- a supreme god, karma. The wisest men were not the ones that prayed for the sake of peace of mind, or practiced magic to alter their situations. The wisest men were the ones who simply accepted life and all of its happenings- the ones who created order in chaotic events.

That is what I would like to be. Instead of finding myself in a very very hard scenario, (like this week, learning that my paycheck would be delayed until AFTER tuition is due, AFTER I move to Reno, AFTER I start a new job requiring clothes I don't have) and wanting to pray to God/The Goddess/the Universe and ask for help, or wanting to practice the even more complex psychological tricks of magic- I'd like to simply keep my cool, accept what has happened, and accept the outcome, and find a way to turn the tide with my OWN knowledge and experience.

It is not the easiest road, I have learned, to not have faith in divinity, or spiritual intervention. You take upon yourself all responsibility for your life, and how it turns out. (You take responsibility for what happens after even the things you cannot control.) But my logic and experience allows me no other course of action.

But do I have the strength and intelligence to not be led to the path of madness?

Are not the most logical and intellient sometimes the most insane?

Is sanity simply foolishness and bliss?

Are the sane only the least mindful, the least thoughtful?

There was an article in the Reno News & Review this week about a special program for 'genius' level students. It explained that you have to have an IQ of at least 145 to even be considered for enrollment. That Albert Einstein's IQ was 160.

And also, that these students are in the top 0.13 percent of the population!!!

Well, I started to wonder what my own IQ score was. So I looked up a credible IQ test on the internet, and took it.

I scored a disappointing 124. Although it explained that I scored in the top 90 to 100% in most of the categories, (my lowest being linguistics! wtf!) I'm gonna retake that shit.

I went over the answers and found that on a couple of the questions, I had decided on the right answer, but somehow clicked the wrong choice. The test took a good 20 minutes or so.

I can't retake the same one, because I'm familiar with the questions.

Looked up a few of those 'High Intelligence Societies' (where they con you into paying them 70 bucks for membership, and a certificate of smartness, and access to the smart people forums) and found that they accepted IQ scores 124 and above.

I guess it gave me self-satisfaction, but now I'm on a mission to raise it.

(Although the IQ test is disputable. Most believe that there are many other factors that contribute to intelligence, or the seemingly lack thereof- like access to education, and your background.)

I would have joined the society if they gave you a t-shirt.

"I scored high on the IQ test. Step off my grill, bitches."

I trust myself.
I trust myself.
I trust myself.

I am intelligent, strong, capable.
I am intelligent, strong, capable.
I am intelligent, strong, capable.

I do not doubt myself.
I do not doubt myself.
I do not doubt myself.


Well, Reno was a pretty light weight trip! Got out of Sacramento later than I had intended, but the drive there was very relaxing. I really dig that feeling once you go beyond Auburn, when the highways are hugged by trees and heights of green and open sky. The feeling of freedom, of reunion with nature.

Drove straight to Fallon and spent a good hour with my mother- the first good hour we've had in a long time. Last week, I had realized how very judgemental I was growing, even of my own mother and little brother. I was learning how very awful it felt when your own blood will not accept you, and I decided not to follow in their foot steps. I called my mother, and left a message on her cell phone, telling her that I loved her for who she is, fat or thin, rich or poor- for all her flaws and imperfections, I love her anyways. That I accept her. And I think that's what she needed, because the next time we had talked on the phone, she sounded rather happy.

( A story of days )

Tomorrow is a new day, new possibilities- another chance to create happiness and step forward into the future.

I trust myself.
I trust myself.
I trust myself.

I am intelligent, strong, capable.
I am intelligent, strong, capable.
I am intelligent, strong, capable.

I do not doubt myself.
I do not doubt myself.
I do not doubt myself.

PRINCIPLES OF SOCIOLOGY - Monday, Wednesday - 11 to 12:15pm
ART APPRECIATION - Monday, Wednesday - 2 to 3:15pm
COMPOSITION 1 - Tuesday, Thursday - 11 to 12:15pm
ELEMENTARY ALGEBRA - Tuesday, Thursday - 2 to 3:15pm


I'm going to be a full time student, even if I have to live in my van and take showers at my friend's places until next semester. I'll make it work. Truly, it's the issue of money that is terrifying me. I'll have time to work a part time job, and really, I can cover rent with that. But when it comes to paying for gas, food, utilities, a cell phone. I just don't know. I'm going to have to live scarcely.

My father has yet to say 'no' to helping me, in whatever manner. I will do this alone if I have to, but I could use the financial help- at least partly with tuition and books, at least for this semester.

I'm trying to just relax for now, and remember that I DO have a place to stay for at least a month or two with Deidre. I'll pop her $200 to cover any extra expenses that will accrue due to my staying there for a month. My last couple of paychecks will cover all the start of term expenses- tuition, books (if I shop smart), gym membership for the semester, start up cell phone charges, a P.O. box.

I've just got to find the right job. I'm basically willing to do whatever I have to do to make money. I'm considering going with something that'll help me get some extra exercise. Lawlor Events Center is hiring security. I'm sure they'd dig my stocky, muscular physique.

Speaking of which- I started a decent workout routine last week, spending each day on a certain muscle group, four sets of a couple of exercises to get toned up and ready to hit the harder weights at the gym in a few weeks. Adopted some healthy eating guidelines until I hit the grocery store and buy what I need. I feel wonderful.

I've discovered that I've got the kind of body type that can build muscle easily. After just this week, my biceps are much harder than they were a weak ago, and are even beginning to outline from the rest of the chub in my arm. It feels wonderful at the end of the night to feel sore- my abs, my arms, my legs, my back. The pain is liberating. This time next summer I'll be ripped.

I'm glad that Deidre's got that swimming pool right across the neighborhood street. I can't wait to be able to just walk 50 feet and do laps in a cool, clean swimming pool.

Changes, changes, changes. I can hardly wait these two weeks. I am leaving on August 15th.

By this date next month, I will be living in Reno, Nevada once again.

I go through some of these livejournal postings from the last two years: woe, woe, woe.

It tempted me to start a completely new journal. In fact, I may just do that.

Besides getting my books, I am completely admitted and registered at Reno's community college. This summer, I decided that enough was enough- I knew where I wanted to me, should be, deserved to be, belonged. And that was in school- with my nose in a book, learning about the world of men, and strengthening my skill and abilities... and faculties.

I do not consider myself fully recovered from the 'illness'. But I am doing mightily well, compared to my position 4 months ago. I have been off of the medications for two months now, and have been learning to cope with things in other ways: 30 minute walks in the morning, when the sun is first warming the grass, and most of Sacramento is still in their homes, daily spiritual practice and exercise, and the developement of a vision, and goals.

Like I've always known before- if I have a vision, my body and mind take on an instinctual drive towards manifesting it. I have the abilities, I needed to learn application.

I am seeing my father tomorrow afternoon to discuss further details about my education. I decided on going to the community college first- as it costs half the price for the same courses, and if classes are selected carefully, I can transfer back to UNR as a junior in a couple of years. I can get away with paying only half of the tuition by Auguest 15, the rest by October 5th, plus the price of books. (Speaking of which- don't shop at your college's bookstore, unless you have to. I found two of the four books I need on ebay for half the price [and even less] of the used book prices.)

Deidre is letting me stay at her place for a month or so, until I find a new job and a place to live. I figured I could work 20 hours a week, with a full time schedule at school. If my father would agree to pay my tuition, books, and possibly $200 or $300 bucks for rent (like he did before), then this will go smooth. I'll only make about 600 or 700 a month on a part time work schedule, and that's barely enough to afford rent and car insurance. This first semester will be tough, as I won't be receiving any financial aid. (Next semester will be easier- as I will hopefully be getting back my Millenium scholarship, and possibly getting something through FAFSA.)

Since developing these plans- I have never felt more alive, confident, motivated. Every time I face a moment of struggle, my desires resurface, and it pushes me through it. It's magic.

I am going to do this. I only hope I can make it work somewhat smoothly.

The following video was recorded at one of those summer Jesus Camps.

Tell me this doesn't make you sick to your stomach with disgust.





This next one is a little unsettling as well. (Although I recognize the scene. The ways they are acting, the spiritual connection they feel they've made- it's also what happens within 'circles' cast by witches/pagans; raising energy, basically, through the music and the large amount of people participating, and the chanting and trancelike monotony.)

But still... these children have been fucking trained. I don't even know what to say.

A guy I met at group therapy killed himself today. His names was Scott. A skinny, articulate gay man in his 30's, nerdy looking but very pleasant to be around- kind. He was HIV positive, but was just recently re-diagnosed with AIDS, the full whammy. He had been discharged from the program about a week or so ago. He changed his answering machine greeting to a goodbye. The confirmed it this afternoon.

I wasn't close to the fellow, but we had a few conversations together- about the disease, especially. It's moreso a stun because I am being shoved into the same seat as the people I've wanted to shove there myself. "So this is what it feels like when someone you know kills themself."

It's only sadness. I even almost want to take a slice of blame. What if I had extended my hand out to him? What if I had just hung with him more while he was there, exchanged phone numbers, and gave him a call every week or so to see how he's doing? What if I had just offered him unbiased, agenda-free support?

I heard that his answering machine message sounded very confident. That he sounds good and stable as he's explaining to everyone that he wants them to celebrate his life, not mourn his passing. That he sounded as though he had accepted death a long time ago. (which makes sense- positives have to develop a greater relationship with death, and much earlier that the rest of us)

A friend of us suggests that he probably used pills. (I'm sure he had plenty of them.)

I brought his friend out back after group today. Another girl from the group came along. We stood together in the grass, under the low hanging branches of the trees, and talked about him. I had suggested we come out to have a mini-memorial. I told them that we didn't need a church- we have the trees.

I suggested a moment of silence. (That was the best part. I felt like I could feel him in the grass there for a moment.)

Ani got out last night on accident. I had someone over, and she slipped through my feet and through his to get outside and I never saw her. An hour later after I had closed the door, I realized I couldn't find it. She was nowhere to be seen outside. She wandered off.

She's never really been outside before. She has not returned. I've walked around the block looking for her, checked the road like Prince, asked a few apartments that were next to time that looked exactly like it. (Last time she got confused and jumped into the back porch of the wrong apartment.

I'm worried sick. I keep wanting to cry like a bitch cause I can't find my cat.

But I love her.

She's probably dead. I hope someone just took her in because she didn't seem all wild like the other cats around here- even if they don't return her to me, at least she's got someplace warm.

I'm thinking about making MISSING CAT flyers and putting them on all the apartment doors around here. I don't think anyone here would bother calling Animal Control to pick her up or anything- cats run this apartment complex.

WHAT DO I DO?????

I believe that my next tattoo will me a symbol in accordance with this creation story, this origin of love. A tale, a song, a concept of love that I will adore, I think, for the rest of my life. A symbol: two half faces fit together into a one circle. You will see it in this video from a portion of the movie "Hedwig and the Angry Inch". I think this will also be the first song I'll learn how to play on my guitar.

I love it, love it, love it.

LMAO

A good friend of mine just posted this on her journal. It's touching, and I thought I'd do my part and spread it around.



http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vr3x_RRJdd4

I stayed in Fallon/Reno, Nevada for a week... two days longer than I had intended. It is not about 6am on Sunday morning, and I'm sick as all fuck. I think all the fun I had the past week took a toll on my body- all the drinking and smoking, the cold air and the gusty winds I never thought about when wearing flip flops under blue jeans to an event.

Today/yesterday was my birthday. I slept during most of it, didn't feel very motivated to answer the ringing telephones, or to check the messages. I found a few birthday greetings. My mother hadn't even any idea I had left Nevada for a whole day. That says much about how much I was around her during my stay at home.

I've been coughing all day... a big of painful, acidic flem, but now the coughs are getting deeper and more frequent. My head aches at different pressure points from all the whooping stress. I am keeping myself knocked up on 800mg of ibuprofen until I can figure out a way to get cold medicine, sinus medicine for the aches and pounding attacks, the runny nose and the sneezing. And probably some Pepto Bismal for my stomach troubles.

But I don't know how I'm going to pay for those things. I am solid broke since coming back from Nevada.

I feel like shit now, but I had a blast.

Partying nearly every night... I was always doing something interesting. Great smoking experiences with Deidre's new boyfriend, (in the sunshine under a tree, lost of gusty comfortable wind and the talking leaves of a tree), and an amazing Ani Difranco show with her. I met the baby. An odd sorority get together at one of the greek houses by UNR.

I met a girl in Fallon. The night we all drank, and I was really getting it done, three of us ended up crashing on one mattress. She was awake and sober, and let me feel her body and play with the nails of her small hand...

She loved "how gentle I was". I think I know what I am doing by now. She's supposed to call me later today to get together. She's going to stop in Sacramento on the way back home from visiting her "boyfriend" who is visiting in San Francisco.

I enjoyed her.

I'm going to finish my bowl, and blow my nose, and hope the THC will fog the illness.