I’ve caught up on my online comics.
I’ve caught up on most of my email.
I’ve caught up on LJ.
I’ve caught up on some posts.

My ass hurts in this wooden chair. Time to leave Beaner’s, methinks.

My 401K cash-out finally arrived in the mail. All of my bills are paid and up to date. Soon, I will be getting things fixed on my car. I’m going to get the exhaust done first, and have Dad pay me back (yay for IOU’s!), and then the shocks. Perhaps two new front tires should come first. At the end, if I can still afford it, I’m going to get the ABS fixed at the dealership.

Finally having the money to do what I *need* to do is relieving.

Now I just need to find a way to bring in money that I like doing. Step by step, day by day.

Lots of little posts as I catch up on reading LJ.

I haven’t had internet access at home, as I didn’t pay the cable modem bill for quite a while. Right now, I’m sitting in Beaner’s (a coffee joint) using their wireless network with my work laptop.

The cable modem will be up again on the 16th. Despite the signal that the cable modem is getting (displayed by the bootup light flashing), I have to wait for a cable guy to come out. Their records show that I was disconnected at the tap. Most likely, they were told that I was and just didn’t do it. That’s probably why I had service for so long without paying for it.

Anyway, they’ve got to verify that the tap is connected and flash the cable modem with some ComCast silliness, because all “new” accounts are being started with ComCast instead of AT&T Broadband. Yay for branding switchover during buyouts. If they try to tell me to load their CD on my computer one more time… “What version of Windows do you run?” “I have two Macs, running OS X.” “Oh.”

Feh. Trust the customer service people not to know what the hell they’re doing. I should have called , she’s in ComCast Tech Support.

This first day has gone really well. A lot of the nervousness about calling has vanished once I’ve actually started doing the calling. My laptop is awesome, it’s the same exact model I had before. No USB, but I’ll find some way to get a zip drive working. Maybe buy one of the old parallel ones from cho cho. Too bad you can’t power a zip drive via parallel port. Hrmph.

I’ll probably just copy the novel over onto this machine, and regularly send updates to the other machine to back up onto zip disk.

Anyway, things are going really well, and I’m looking foreward to opportunities. Odd words to be coming out of my mouth, it seems. :)

At this moment, I feel like this. Exactly. I was looking through pictures of myself to see the veins of some strong tribal (weather it be german, celtic, or saxon) culture in the face. Most of these didn’t help me much. Nor did these. The thought popped into my gigantic noggin when I saw ‘s post with the pic of him and his wife. He’s distinctly Scottish. Clearly. You can tell just by looking at the motherfucker that there’s Celtic madman in there that could headbut you into oblivion. It’s clear.

I have to wonder what’s in my face, because I can’t see it for myself.

Culmination of a cosmic bitch-slap in Shelby Township. I’m going to put my boots and trench coat on, and go admire the snow. Get my damn boots on.

I can’t really express what coming back to this house does to me, on so many different levels. I’m a kid again, and I feel keenly the distance between that kid and where I am now. The need to please my parents, make them proud, make them glad that they brought me into this world wars with my need to be my own person, and my mischevious irrational desire to spit in their faces.

I never had to /try/ to be the good one, you know? Joe got blamed for everything because he was usually at fault. As silly and retarded as this sounds, I really /was/ that innocent and good of a child. My outbursts included random bawling sessions, joining football in Junior High, and writing angry letters and poetry to my parents. I didn’t understand expressing the same things through getting into trouble. And now he’s not going to be here for Thanksgiving dinner. Just Dad, Mom, and I. I really miss him, and am going to miss seeing him, Grandma, and Aunt Carol. I’ll have to put it off till Christmas, and knee Joe in the junk for not bringing my Windows 98 SE CD here with him. And for not understanding how much all three of us are going to miss him at dinner.

89X is an orgasm for my ears after Lansing radio.

I’ve never fallen in love slowly before.

One of the last times I was here, I screamed at my dad amidst tears about how I’ve never, ever, EVER taken the easy way out. Since then, I’ve taken money from him so that I could live. Never, ever the easy way. That’s not what the Gods have in store for me. I’ve known that for years.

I kicked my Dad’s ass in Scrabble, by nearly a hundred points. I can’t remember being so clever in a long time. I enjoyed it greatly, and I think he did too.

I have this warm feeling in my heart and I want to cry.

I’m going to bring the PowerBook to the Xmas gatherings, just to say “look, I’m still not a failure… I’m still a success, look at me!” and the disgust I have for this desire turns my own stomach.

Yesterday, , , and bought me three 2-liters of Dew. Tomorrow, I will be leaving with a pack of 20 oz or 1-liter (haven’t looked yet) bottles from my parents. So many people with a desire to see me smile.

Knowing that I’m falling in love again scares the bejeezus out of me. I must not push away because of this fear. I must not run away. I must not run away. I must not run away.

As soon as I get them, Dad wants a stack of my business cards to spread around. He wanted to make sure that business in the Detroit area was OK, first. I could only blink for a couple of seconds.

Did I mention how cool 89X is? Cuz it is. Just so you know.

I’ve written so much in so many paper journals while I was in this house. Argh, I’m still upset with myself for losing ‘s clove cigarettes. I’ve done so many things worthy of praise in this house. I’ve done so many embarassing things in this house. I’ve done so much LIVING and GROWING UP in this house. Goddamn tins line the walls in this den, and it’s /creepy/ that it’s not /creepy/. Volunteer of the Year Award, Boy Scout Troop #208, 1991. US Naval Support Activity award, Danang, Vietnam. Bean-o-Rama. Boy Scout photos. Photos of Joe and I. US Naval Training Center, Great Lakes, Ill., graduation photo. Dale Carnegie Course completion certificate. Speaker pass for AMT Conference. His dad, standing in front of a MTU bus. A MSU banner. Twitch. Twitch. Ow. Ow. Ow.

My past is usually a very, very foggy thing. When I think of the extremes I lived in, the emotions that I experienced at any one moment, I’m overwhelmed. I… just… can’t… take… it. Four-point buck antlers. Red wings banner. The clock and desk that Grandpa Crampton built. Ow.

After figuring out my heritage, I’m more English than I am German, instead of the other way around.

BUCKFUTTERS!!

And nothing big has happened to trigger all of this. I guess this house just remembers me.

grabbed me some cold pizza from her house for breakfast this afternoon. I can’t possibly express how cool this was. :)

I’m about to head out to Shelby Township for turkey day tomorrow. I’ve got my clothes packed, the Dew ready, and a paper journal packed. Things are pretty tied up around here. Dropped off at class, and have caught up on LJ. I’ve taken out the trash, but have decided not to do the dishes. Maybe, when I’ll come back, they’ll stink, and that’ll motivate me to wash them.

I’m still disbelieving about the job. I’m excited and grinning and amazed, but still a little disbelieving. I will accept this and I will do well at this. Especially if I get a Titanium. Nyah, nyah, !

Okay, time to affix the tape on the ghetto-repaired stereo, top off the gas tank from returned bottles and cans, and head out to the land of Suburbia.