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Oct. 15th, 2012

Poor Old Michael Finnegan (Begin Again)

So I'm back on the Boardwalk.

No, I'm not living there.

Yes, you'll find out all about it, since you never got around to deleting me.  And, by the way, thank you so much for that.

Talk soon.  Update on everything as it comes to me.  Promise.

Much love.

Jan. 22nd, 2009

Yo, Skyblade

 Happy belated birthday to you.
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Jan. 20th, 2009

The Inaugural Speech, Summarized For Your Convenience

 "Hi, America.  I'm your new President.  Let's all grow the fuck up, shall we?"
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Jan. 14th, 2009

Geek Gaming Stuff

Tabletop gamers only. No reason that the rest of you should suffer.Collapse )

Jan. 11th, 2009

Happy Birthday

Happy Birthday to annanda111 , my ex-wife and current close friend.  You've known me longer than anyone up here, you've seen me at my worst and at my best, and yet somehow we can still enjoy each others' company in joy and happiness.  May the upcoming year bring you nothing but peace and prosperity.  You rock in every possible way.


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Jan. 5th, 2009

In Which I Lose My Innocence

 Twilight.

So I found a copy at Larisa's house, and she let me borrow it.

And, um...yeah.

My eyes rolled so much that I'm still dizzy.

To paraphrase our president-elect:  You can put lipstick on a pig, and it's still a pig.  You can put strawberry-scented shampoo and sparkles on a steaming cow patty, and it's still a steaming cow patty.

Of course I need to read the next one now.  

Jan. 1st, 2009

I Will Begin Again

A fine New Year's Eve. 

Early in the day, I took the Gold Line train and the bus to the Boardwalk (a long but worthwhile commute, as the Gold Line passes through Chinatown, which is always awesome to behold).  Set up shop.  Mike, the watcher of my stuff, has been kicked off of the Boardwalk by the cops (Given reason:  His dog has no tags.  Real reason:  Typical sweep of the scruffy homeless so that they don't scare the winter tourist crowd), so I've been playing catch as catch can when it comes to people keeping an eye on my items.  Instead, I've been relying on Mike the Crip for the past couple of nights.

Cold and damp.  Chana showed up, which was lovely, and we discussed ways of making sure that our relationship stays on an even and positive footing.  Fantastic!  The cold weather was making folks reluctant to sit down for a reading.  Sucky!  Finally I gave up, and walked down the Boardwalk to find someone who could keep an eye on my things.  As I did so, my name was called.  I looked.  My sister Natalie (who comes by a few times a year) had shown up with her...boyfriend?  Seemed like a boyfriend.  She'd shown up with him to surprise me.  I turned around, leading her back to the stand, and introduced her to Chana, who was waiting there with a regular client of mine.  Two readings.  Excellent.

After the client, Natalie, and the boyfriend (?) took off, I said my goodbyes to Chana, who was on a tight schedule, and packed up.  Homeward bound.  As I walked in the door, I was informed that we all (Mikey, Laurel, Savannah, and myself) were taking of to Larisa's place for New Year's Eve.  This was nice, as Larisa is of the "Let the kids run around and scream until they tire themselves out." school of child rearing, meaning that I had little to perform in the way of nanny duties.  Instead, I hung out, talked with her roommate, smoked cigarettes outside, and indulged in some marijuana use.  Once a habitual user, I've now lowered my frequency to once a month on average, so my system was unprepared for the potentcy of the sample a friend had given to me earlier in the day.  The rest of the night, I swapped bad-ex stories with Larisa, and watched Heathers for the first time in years.  Finally got to sleep as the first rays of dawn hit the windows. 

Today's been relatively quiet, as Savannah's mostly been playing with Larisa's lovely daughters, and I've split my time between watching television, reading a bit, and chatting idly with my hostess. 

Chana and I have been talking lately.  We've realized that we're almost certainly headed towards living together again, and looking for stability and routine in our lives.  At this point, looking at the financial situation and the fact that Mike and Laurel seem to be willing to deal with me until I'm a bit more back on my feet, I'm looking for something other than the Boardwalk as a source of income.  The best bets seem to involve either working out of a local psychic bookstore or doing readings online from home.  Also, we want a calmer neighborhood, something a bit more relaxed and less crime-ridden than the Boardwalk while still open to eccentricity and fun.

Pasadena is currently our top choice.  Nice city, reasonable rents by the standards of Southern California, relatively low crime, and (number one on my list), the site of an enormous number of well-stocked used bookstores.

I suspect that I've learned what I can from Venice for now.  It's time for something steadier and a touch less intense.

So:  Happy New Year to you all, and my best wishes for what looks to be a chaotic cycle around the sun.

Dec. 27th, 2008

I Can See Clearly Now

 Still alive.  Still in good spirits.  Safe and warm for now.

The day came for me to leave.  Woke up at The Host's place, looked outside the window:  Rain.  I shuddered.  While I had a place to stay that night, and (as I found out later), my circle of friends had gone into overdrive arranging things so that I'd be out of the cold, it was a nasty reminder of the sudden instability that had invaded my life.  I turned away and made my bed.  The Host woke.

"So what time you gonna be out of here?" he mumbled.

"Dunno," I replied.  "This might clear up by noon.  If it does, then I'll set up shop and take off at sunset.  If it doesn't, then I'll have to wait till five, since Anna isn't expecting me till way later."

He grunted and nodded.  I made some breakfast, washed the dishes from last night, and settled down to watch the weather report on the morning news.

"So I"m gonna need you out of here by eleven." he said.

I blinked.  "But I said that I might not be leaving till noon, or five," 

"You said," he snorted.

A shake of my head.  "David, have I done something to piss you off?"

"Nope," he shrugged.  "I've got someone coming by at eleven.  A lady."

"Then you should have told me that when I said that I'd be out of here later," I snapped.  He looked at me blankly.  "Fine, fine, I'll be out. by then."

Sure enough, as eleven rolled around, I found myself outside in the rain, taking shelter with various local street kids under the overhang to one of the public bathrooms, listening to background lectures on the importance of keeping one's feet dry in damp weather in between coughing fits on the part of my new friends.  The cold and damp seeped into every cell of my body, causing some serious but temporary concerns as to how quickly mold might be able to grow on my skin.

Off to Anna's (annanda111 )that night:  She was furious that I was once again without a place.  I listened to her caring yet frustrated lectures, nodded, agreed, and went to bed.  Night one out of the way.  I was told that after I crashed with Larisa (moon_panther69 ), I would be welcomed at least temporarily by my friend Laurel (rainsongwg ) and her boyfriend Mike in Pasadena.  Or, rather, that I'd be crashing with Laurel, then Larisa....it's all been a blur.

At any rate, I went to Laurel's.  I re-introduced myself to Mike.  We got along famously and instantly, although I admit that I felt a more immediate connection with his six year-old daughter Savhannah (sic), a child who very nearly defines the word "precocious".  She's remarkably bright, fun-loving, and reasonably sweet with just enough of the devil in her to not be insufferably dull.  Also, she's the most stubborn child to hit this planet since I was her age.  We hit it off immediately.

The first night at Laurel's, I had some issues sleeping.  I suspect that it mostly had to do with the sudden shifts in my life combined with her apartment being utterly unfamiliar territory.  Fine.  Figured I'd make it up at Larisa's.  

Hah.

I'd forgotten that Larisa's life runs by no set schedule.  Instead, I found myself up at four a.m. on her back patio, smoking cigarettes and swapping bizarre stories.  Due to my sleep deprivation, however, I was unable to contribute as much as I usually do.  This problem was compounded when her two lovely daughters invaded the living room at six in the morning to watch a Garfield DVD after I'd managed to catch an hour's worth of sleep.

Back to Laurel's.  The original idea was that I'd split my time between Larisa's and Laurel's, or at least as much as possible, until I found a permanent residence.  However, this changed as Mike and I became good friends, and I began to play with Savhannah on a regular basis (fun, but she cheats at Chutes and Ladders).  Eventually, I was being asked to babysit here and there when I wasn't at work.  I always accepted.  Also, I found myself picking up some of the Savhannah-wrangling chores in the morning, giving Laurel a chance to sleep in every once in a while.

They began to make noises about my staying there for...well, by no means "moving in", but on a more indefinite basis while I get things together.  Then I spent Christmas with Anna, Nathan, and my goddaughter Elysia and her sister Emily.  It was a lovely time all around.  Still, I found myself missing Mike, Laurel, and Savhannah.

That night, after they came by to pick me up, Mike mentioned that Savhannah had had two godfathers.  One had died, and he hadn't heard from the other in ages.  He asked if I'd be willing to take the role.

I said "Yes," and managed to maintain my composure somehow.

In a recent entry, I mentioned that I wanted to be home.  I still haven't found that in a place, but I've found it in people:  Laurel, Mike, Savhanah, Larisa and her daughters Amethyst and Aurora, Nathan, Anna, Elysia, and Emily.  These are my family up here.  These are the people who have given me nothing but love and hope at a time when I could have given in to total despair.

And what about Chana?

I've saved the best for last:  She's simply an amazing person.  No matter what she may have gone through in the past, she is willing to work to improve her life, to make sure that things come together, and to put it all together with enormous dignity and compassion.  She's received little to no help from the social services people who have been assigned to her, and has been forced to follow up on complex bureaucratic matters and unconscionable delays while grappling with the neurochemical nightmare granted to her by the fates.  And through all of that, while making sure that she doesn't sacrifice her own hard-fought gains, she manages to be a wonderful mother to her children, and an amazing girlfriend to me.  The past is the past, but the present is amazing.  She is beautiful in mind, body, and soul.

Whatever good thoughts you've all been sending my way have been doing the trick.  Please, keep them coming so that I can finally give Mike and Laurel some privacy.

Dec. 16th, 2008

Where My Love Lies Waiting Silently For Me

The power of positive thinking only goes so far sometimes.

As I've stated in previous journal entries, I'm moving tomorrow without a real place to stay.  Anna was kind enough to offer a night, Laurel another, and my friend Larisa stated that she might be able to find an option for me somewhere.  It's all appreciated more than I can express to any of these women. 

It's also overwhelming in another way.  As wonderful and kind as my friends are, I've been in this position often enough to know the difference between being a welcome guest and an imposition, and what with everyone being crushed under the weight of Christmas responsibilities and/or major family issues, I'm afraid that I'm well into being the latter right now.  I hate that.  I hate the idea of being a burden to any of these people, all of whom have been nothing but wonderful, loving, and supportive of me at all times.  I hate this instability, this uncertainty, this sense of being just one step away from the emergency shelter at the National Guard Armory.  Today Chana and I were thinking of packing up and taking off to San Diego, but frankly, I'm not sure who we could stay with there after eight years away from my hometown.

I'm not in despair.  Not yet.  But I can feel the ball circling the hole over and over, ready to drop in, and it's taking all of my willpower to keep it out.

I want to be safe.

I want to be warm.

I want to be home.

Dec. 15th, 2008

Washed Out

Rain in Venice today.  I wasn't able to work.  No major drama one way or the other.  I was planning on writing out another flashback, but I don't have the motivation.

So instead, I give you a doo-wop group, an 80s rapper, and someone in a superhero suit singing.  And there's a violin in there for some reason.





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