Journal

Not much else to report today. Did some research and other stuff for the site. Got sidetracked on Gay.Net chatting for about an hour with a guy from Albion, about halfway between here and Buffalo.

Did lunch with Drew at Tek Systems. We went to an Asian buffet restaurant. Good food, a nice selection of Thai, Cantonese and Szechwan. I gorged myself because I never did make anything for dinner last night, then I skipped breakfast this morning in the excitement over the logo Scott made. I’ve gotta learn, breakfast first, then e-mail.

Anyway, Drew told me that because of the Citibank paperwork snafu, I might not start until Wednesday. L He promised to call with an update, but it’s after office hours now, so I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do in the morning. Get up early and wait for the phone, I guess. If I don’t start until Wednesday, at least I’ll get 25% unemployment for the week.

Here’s a good one for ya, I was so involved with working on the site this weekend that I never even went downstairs to check the mail on Saturday. Remembered it as I went to bed last night. Normally this wouldn’t bother me. But, I was expecting CDs in the mail. And, there they were.

I finally got through to the Customer Service/Tech Support people at 9NetAvenue just before lunchtime. No-one from there has returned a single e-mail I’ve sent, and the Tech Support number has been busy since at least Saturday. Who ever heard of such a thing? Busy signals, for 3˝ days! Couldn’t even get into a call queue with tacky music! C’mon, it’s 1998 already!

[Correction 2/5/97:  It actually refers you http://www.nnatech.com which turns out to be some outfit in West Springfield, MA, which sells PCs.   Double-huh?]

Fortunately, with two lines and equipped with The Ultimate Fag Phone With Headset, I was not thrown off the hunt. (Doesn’t that sound like something from The Sharper Image Catalog? Amaze your friends, amuse small children, frighten off telemarketers, save the whales with The Ultimate Fag Phone With Headset!) I had a dream about swimming with the whales last night. Any clues anyone?

I’m also turning a lovely shade of blue holding my breath waiting to hear back from Tek Systems. This is the second time they’ve done this. In December, they asked if I’d mind taking care of a little one-week job. Sure, said I. Client insists on a drug test before I start. No problem. I pack my prescriptions and run right over to Smith-Kline Laboratories to pee in a cup.

Digression: I’d never done this before, so I found it kind of interesting. Made me empty my pockets and put my coat and backpack in this little locker. Locked it up and gave me the key. Made me wash my hands, before, gave me the little cup and told me to fill it to the line. Then they escorted me into the tea-room. One-holer, no sink. The tank was duct-taped shut and they squirted blue dye into the bowl. I was instructed not to flush when I was done. Then they closed the door let me go about my business.

Interestingly, on the way there I was concerned about, shall we say, turning off the flow when the cup filled, or worse, dropping the cup. But standing there watching the lovely designs the blue dye was making, I developed shy kidney! Eventually, I was able to fulfill all goals. But the hardest part was remembering NOT to flush.

Presenting my "output", she noted the color, (no blue!) and immediately took it’s temperature, (98.4F) made sure I hadn’t flushed (turning green, just like Glad-Lock bags!) then we finished the paperwork. This involved sealing the "output" and I had to sign the seal. It was like signing your art or a book! ("Glad you enjoyed it. To whom shall I make out the inscription?") End of digression.

Anyway, being a Friday afternoon, she said the results wouldn’t be back until Tuesday. Fine. Tuesday comes, and goes, Friday comes and goes. The client backs out of the deal after ten days on the following Wednesday. Still no results. Finally, two weeks later, they announce I have perfect pee. Gee, thanks.

So back to today, never heard a thing from Tek Systems. On the other hand, I’ve been focusing on the site and I forgot to call them too. But with their history of communications problems, I think they should get, now say it with me: "The Ultimate Fag Phone With Headset."

Wednesday 4 February, 1998 9:10AM

I’ve finished the overall structure of the site, and I’m fairly pleased with the results. There were some things I wanted to do differently, but I’m just learning all this stuff, and I decided I’d just do the best I can for now. I’ve got to get focused back on content. After all, you’re not here because the site is structured nicely, are you?

It’s been two weeks really since I’ve done any industrial-strength writing. There’s a lot of stuff already in the structure that needs to be filled in, and a couple of interesting turns of events in the past nine hours.

Oh, where’d he come back from? Well, he’d said he sometimes goes over to The Bachelor Forum, (what passes for a leather bar here in Rahchacha,) on Tuesdays for 2-for-1. I walked over there shortly after midnight. (Just to the end of the block, turn right, next corner. We’re not talking marathon here.) I was hoping to run into him, and besides, I was feeling a bit parched.

Naturally after even a short walk in the cold, when one enters a bar full of hot sweaty guys, one’s glasses fog up. I navigated my way to what appeared to be an empty spot at the bar and proceeded to de-fog the specs. (Without them I can barely see from one end of a dick to the other, so this was a real accomplishment.)

Ordered a Blue, (‘nother topic, later today) and guess who comes bounding up behind me? Yep, my little honey. We hugged, said hi and all that. Then he said, words to the effect of that although he was glad to see me, he was kinda ticked that I haven’t called. I replied that the mixed feelings were mutual.

Turns out, he lost my number. He’d deleted the message I’d left, cleared the Caller-ID, then discovered he’d misplaced my card. Now you see why I say I’m a total shithead? Here all this time I figured I’d gotten the brush-off, (I always read too much into these things,) and it’s all a little case of "Whoops!"

Apparently he was at Muther’s on Friday while I was there and we just didn’t see each other. Then on Saturday, I sulked at home. I’m beginning to think Muther’s is getting a little TOO popular when two people can’t find each other in the crowd. Well, they deserve it. It’s a nice club.

Digression: It seems the Saturday night DJ, (can’t remember his name right now,) has taken quite a shine to Vince-the-ex. The Rochester M4M chat room on AOL is all ablaze over their being all huggy-kissy at Club Marcella on Sunday. Good for them! Note to Vince: If he wants to move in with you, live in suburban splendor, stop spinning records and take up computers, YOU’VE BEEN THERE, DONE THAT, GOT THE T-SHIRT. It shrank, remember? J End of digression.

So Johnny and I got over that, and we enjoyed a few Blues with his friend Rob and an Australian guy named Steve, who interestingly enough, wasn’t drinking Foster’s. One of the things I find endearing about Johnny is how he worries about his friends.

Rob got quite tanked on Long Island Iced Teas and a couple of guys were hitting on him. Johnny was worried that they might "take advantage of him." Okay, so Rob is a twink, tanked and three guys are hitting on him in a leather bar. I can see that as cause for concern.

But Rob is also wearing his New York City Tae-Kwon-Do jacket. So either nothing will happen anyway (most likely,) the jacket will cause the guys to play nice (middle,) or he can handle himself (probably wouldn't have to.) For heaven’s sake, this is The Forum, not the Mineshaft. Besides, it’s been my experience that leather bars are actually the safest clubs to be in. I’ve been to the Mineshaft, all of it. Quite a pleasant evening as I recall.

So, the rest of the evening was spent talking, making-out and cuddling on the couch. We eventually dozed off. He’s nice to sleep with. It’s kinda cute the way he trembles in his sleep every so often. Okay, over-sharing. I’ll stop now. Well one more thing, he really likes the Savage Garden CD that I wrote about yesterday. Great make-out and cuddling music. J

I’ll save the Blue bomb for this afternoon. I’ve got to get ready for my monthly appointment with my therapist Caroll. There is time for this:

At 8:30 this morning, only moments after Johnny left, Tek Systems calls. Can I start tomorrow at 8:00? I felt like telling them to bite me. But I caved and said OK. So this is the last day of my unemployment, (read vacation.) I get 50% unemployment (US$150 before taxes, whoopie!) for the week, and two days pay.

Troy has taken quite a beating lately in his pages because as he came to terms with his sexuality (I hope I’m relating this properly) he discovered that he’s not gay, but only desires a deeper relationship with men than is typical in our society. He doesn’t want sex with guys.

Many of his regular readers have taken issue with this. Some feel betrayed, others confused, still others think he’s returning to the closet. Many of his readers display these feelings as anger. Poor guy. He’s being honest. And his readers have turned on him.

It’s important that I address the following issues for reasons of credibility. I don’t want you to feel I’m someone I’m not, or at some later date to feel I’ve been dishonest with you. I’m not proselytizing with what follows. I’m only relating my experiences, how they relate to me and to my life. As they say in the commercials, your mileage may vary.

In case you missed it on the Introduction page, I am a chemical dependant.

They say there are no recovered alcoholics, only recovering alcoholics. I can relate quite well to that. My dependencies cover multiple drugs, each with it’s own set of issues. I’ve never felt recovered, only recovering. I also have to be very careful with myself in taking two of my prescriptions and several over-the-counter things.

Not everything I’ve used is physically addicting. Neither of my ‘scripts are, nor are any of the OTCs. (I’m still uncomfortable with the prescribed medical uses, but I cannot do without, trust me I’ve tried. Much to the consternation of my MD.) I use to satisfy emotional needs. All the little things in my chemistry set are mood altering.

It was six years ago this month that I stopped using the last of the illegals. I had dropped, (in order,) caffeine, nicotine, and alcohol over the preceding six months. I may write more about that time in my life, sometime. But for me, to write it is to relive it, and it was the single most painful period of my life. I don’t feel strong enough to relive it right now.

You see, I started using again. Six months ago.

A couple of years back, I found that I could have a beer or a scotch socially, like most people. My alcohol use is essentially self-limiting in that it adversely effects a sleep disorder I have. One of my prescriptions is for that disorder. But no matter the dose, it can’t counter the effects alcohol has on the quality of my sleep. Besides that, I get a wicked hangover after just two beers.

When I took this apartment, I moved in with a case of Labatt’s Ice, and a liter of Dewar’s. Took me nearly two full years to consume them. And that includes what was served to guests, and a six pack I took to a party, (where I had two.) Never drank to modify my moods, feelings or behavior. Only drank at social occasions like most responsible adults. If I felt I needed a drink, I didn’t take one. Still don’t. Alcohol is not the issue.

It turns out, my metabolism is extremely sensitive to caffeine. Not only do I get an incredible buzz, it takes nearly a full 24 hours to wear off. And again, it effects my sleep disorder, (go figure!). I stop at Bruegger’s Bagels down the street nearly every morning on the way to work. One morning a few months back they had a trainee on who accidentally put regular in my 22oz travel mug, not decaf. (For those of you counting at home, this is over three standard coffee cups. Don’t confuse them with your 8oz measuring cup.)

I’d consumed about half of that travel mug, and I wasn’t really aware of the symptoms at first. As my left arm began to go numb, I freaked. I was actually quite relieved when my right arm also began to go numb. (Okay, not a heart attack, what IS it?) Then it hit me. I’d been running around like a mad woman ever since I got to work. Talking a mile a minute, couldn’t keep a thought in my head long enough to complete a sentence, and now vasoconstriction. I’d been poisoned! The evil drug caffeine. Nope, caffeine is not the issue.

Over US Thanksgiving weekend, I was feeling mighty bad. Michael-the-ex had just dumped me, my entire family was at Disney, all my friends were out-of-town, my job had become a major disaster and my apartment was a wreck. (More on these soon.) Found myself sitting in a hotel room in Toronto at 3AM with a delightful little rentboy who asked, "Here, eh? Ya want summa this?" as he passed me a joint. Already being one Blue over the line, (three and she’s tipsy!) I caved. Shared half a joint.

It frightened me. No, I didn’t get paranoid. I LOVED IT! That’s what frightened me. I also know that I get majorly depressed about three days after smoking pot. I took the lesson. None before, none since. Nope, pot is not the issue.

No, the issue is with nicotine. I took up smoking again in October, 5 years and 51 weeks after I entered the Nicotine Recovery Program at Park-Ridge. I am well and truly hooked again. Up to over a carton a week.

I have to finish this tomorrow. It’s a long and winding story and it's taken me three hours to write this much.  I have to start my new job in the morning. I promise I’ll finish tomorrow after work.

Stopped by AIDS-Rochester on the way home from work. As you may recall, I forgot to get my test results last Thursday night. Results were negative. J I knew it would be, but that’s why we test, isn’t it?

First day on the job went okay. As my cubicle is within the confines of the secure LAN administration area, it will be a pain for a couple of weeks while the paperwork is processed for the security badge reader. But if I schedule my work well, I can minimize the number of times I need to return to my desk.

The work environment seems to be fairly low-stress, unlike my last few contracts. As is the usual case at a new contract, there is some commercial software which I’ve never used, in addition to the business-specific applications. And I have to brush-up on my NetWare administration skills. (Sorry, now it’s called IntraNetWare.) I’ve not used the version 4.11 tools either. So, some new stuff to add to the resume at the end of the contract.

More good news, the prices in the cafeteria are considerably lower than they were at Kodak and Danka. But, they didn’t seem to have soup. I’m a big soup fan, so I missed it.

Still more good news, I went the entire workday without smoking. 9 hours including lunch. I was pleasantly surprised at the absence of urges too.

Best news: The domain name is resolving! I’ve spent the past 1˝ hours checking various other web hosting services, while on hold with 9NetAve. Also while on hold, online I paid InterNIC for the name registration. Finally, Josh took the call when the queue gave me a human, and with a few keystrokes, he fixed the problem. I was online while he fixed it, and tested. We’re resolving! If only I’d gotten him in the first place.

All right, back to our story.

What I’ve learned over the past few months is this. I’d let my life get out of balance. There are four primary, and two secondary issues in my life which I need to keep in shape so that I can deal with all the rest of life's issues. They are:

Home: Home is my sanctuary. When things get out of control here, that feeling of safety and security is lost.

Job Satisfaction: Everyone has a bad day at work every so often. We’re talking long-term issues here.

Boyfriend: No relationship is better than a bad one, but a good one is best! And there’s a certain level of stress involved with the search for, and later, establishing a relationship

Finances: You can’t buy happiness. Believe me, I’ve tried. When money gets out of control, everything suffers.

These are the four major factors, which for me, need to be kept in balance so that I can cope with everything else in life. They all interact in such a way that a problem in one area directly effects the others. Naturally there are going to be issues in each of these areas most of the time. What’s important for me, is to keep the majority of these things in shape.

The two secondary factors are family and friends. These are wild cards. They can either compensate for problems in the big four, or contribute to my woes.

Through the middle of summer and into the autumn last year, I slowly let everything go to hell in a handbasket.

Two years ago, I’d taken the apartment as-is. I needed painting, and the carpet was matted and stained. But I loved it anyway. When it became clear that I wasn’t going to move out west for a couple of more years, I asked if I could paint. They also came through on their annual maintenance inspection and decided that the bathroom ceiling, shower tiles, and carpet should be replaced. The timing wasn’t so hot. After they fixed the ceiling, I had only two weeks to paint the apartment, and no help.

I wasn’t assertive enough at work and let, what in June I thought was the best job I’d ever had, degrade to the point where I walked-out in the middle of the afternoon in the first week of December.

I’d met Michael in July, we started dating in August. Despite our differences, I liked him a lot and found I could be very accepting. If I was getting from the relationship what I needed. I wasn’t. And he had difficulty with the idea of having a relationship. We each stuck it out longer than we should have.

Although I was making a ton of money, I was spending a ton of it.

All these things, taken together was a very major problem. Beyond my abilites to cope. Mistakes number one through four. To top it off, Michael smokes. My brand even. I took one, in defense. My thinking was that the rest of the smoke wouldn’t bother me as much if I had one. True to a certain extent, but for me, it was a big mistake. Number five.

For a month, I fooled myself into thinking that one a night on Fridays and Saturdays was manageable. Then Michael and I had a big fight. The next day, I went for a drive, to think things over. I bought a pack. Stretched it out for the week. Next week, two packs, the following week three, then by the middle of November, I was back to a carton a week.

I’m sorry I can't finish this again tonight. I’m tired, and this is taking too much out of me. I’ll continue tomorrow.

Thoughts racing, each one triggering others, sometimes several at once in a chain reaction. In a kind of Darwinian process, eventually something makes it out of my fingers and onto the screen. Each word, each sentence, each paragraph that makes it on the page, has had to survive and rise up to the top through dozens, perhaps hundreds of other thoughts competing against each other every second of my life.

Then there’s sensation. The rush of data from my senses. It’s so overwhelming. I can’t screen or filter anything out. It all comes in, a flood of data contributing it’s load to my already overburdened brain.

Part of my attraction to drug use is to slow my thoughts down and reduce the acuity of my senses. Sort of a filter to cull the herd, so that I can follow one or two. Trying to follow a single train of thought is all but impossible for me. I’m constantly trying to evaluate, categorize, focus and make sense of this mess. Every single second of every single day.

Sleep brings no relief. I can drop into REM without losing consciousness, almost any time I want. Lucid dreaming it’s called. So many people try very hard to achieve that state. You can take classes to learn how to do it. I try to escape it. Without my prescription, as I drift off I go directly to REM and stay there. All night long. I wake as mentally and emotionally exhausted as when I went to bed.

I dream in Technicolor and Dolby Surround Sound. All five senses fully active, but connected to the dreams. I can touch and feel, smell, taste, react emotionally and even think in the dreams. From the truly weird, to the mundane, they’re so vivid, so real, that I frequently can’t tell the difference between dream and reality.

The amitriptyline helps. As long as I remember to take it about an hour before bedtime. Timing is everything. Too early or too close to sleep, it doesn’t help much, if at all. It doesn’t help me get to sleep, it’s not a "sleeping pill." It helps me have "normal" sleep when I get there. Cycling through the other three (or six depending on the researcher you read) stages of sleep.

It’s a hard drug to abuse. I manage to from time to time. When I don’t want to dream at all. Take three, four or more instead of one. Need sedation? Toss in a few over-the-counter diphenhydramine. Add a few clidinium (another ‘scrip) if I’m feeling really tense. Each warns about the dangers of "oversedation." Together, it’s a combo that’d knock an elephant out. You could probably even perform surgery. For me, just a way to subdue the thoughts and senses to get the kind of sleep normal people enjoy.

It’s what I’ve done the past two nights. I feel a bit groggy for the first couple of hours. But I also feel relaxed and refreshed. And I  know that tonight will be a difficult one. A price to pay.

Pot was a drug I used to achieve these results without sleeping. Cull the thundering herd of thoughts. Filter the rush of senses. As a programmer, I did my best work stoned. If you’ve read the introduction you’re probably thinking that conflicts with the statement I made that I was never drunk or stoned at work. That’s true. I never was.

Coding can be done anywhere. At home, evenings, bong by the monitor, I churned out code that amazes me even today. Elegant (in the mathematical definition), simple, minimalist code that flew when it ran and did things that others thought impossible.

Nicotine does similar things for me. Quiets the mind, mitigates stress, tones down sensation. It’s why I’m so powerfully attracted to it. That and the physical withdrawal make it so very hard to quit. The attraction makes it hard to stay quit.

So that’s what it’s like to be me. That’s why it takes me so long to do anything in these pages, why if feel so exhausted after a couple of pages. It’s just past noon now. Two hours on this entry alone. A lot of work to get out just a couple of dozen paragraphs.

Sunday 8 February 1998 11:50PM

I haven’t been able to really read since around Easter. Read an entire book. One sitting. Not quite six hours. I’m out of practice. That book was only 460 pages. I should have polished it off in 3.8 hours at my usual pace.

I feel better. I’ve purged myself in the last week’s entries. A new page starts tomorrow. I’ll be tired at work, but I feel good.

Special thanks to the guys who have been reading these pages and have written me this week: Larry in GA, Rotti in HI, Scott in OR, Terry in GA, and as always, Vince-the-ex.

G’ night.