As I was driving home today, I suddenly remembered an incident from a few nights ago. I was having a good dream, and the ending was unexpected and humorous. I started laughing, hard enough I woke myself up. I laid in bed and laughed myself silly for about five minutes, then I went back to sleep. It was a really good feeling.


We are the children of the Eighties. We are not the first “lost generation” nor today’s lost generation; in fact, we think we know just where we stand - or are discovering it as we speak.

And this is a Question how??

<thinking a move to MPIMS is warranted>

The question is - does this rightfully belong in MPSIMS? Well, by golly… let’s see what the MPSIMmers have to say.

GQ Mod

It abso-doodley-ootley belongs! Thoroughly mundane, entirely pointless – who could as for anything more?

“Finally, consider Kottke’s voice which sounds like geese farts on a muggy day.”
Leo Kottke
6- And 12-String Guitar

There’s nothing like a drunken, stumbly walk on a Tuesday night with someone you’re falling for like a blind roofer. I got home a half hour ago and I’m still grinning like an idiot.

I’ve done that, Homer! And you’re right…it’s a great feeling! Actually, I’ve done it twice. I didn’t remember one dream and still couldn’t stop laughing. I still remember the other one and I still giggle when I think of it.

Sometimes life is so great you just gotta muss up your hair and quack like a duck!

Sometimes when I’m dreaming, I’ll be talking to someone, then I realize that I’m not talking to the person in the dream, I’m actually talking outloud. About this time, my dream-self gets embarassed about my real self talking in his sleep, and I wake up. I sit there a minute, hoping no one heard me, feeling embarassed, then I fall back asleep.

I fell off a ladder at work the other day. It was my first week. It was so embarassing. I was bringing a computer down from the top shelf when I tried to step from the second step to the floor. Caught my heel on the first step and twisted my foot under me. Down I went. Luckily the computer wasn’t harmed. Geez it was embarassing.

Everyone at work calls me Pete. I don’t mind. They didn’t have any Tim nametags, so they offered me a pre-made one to wear while I waited for mine to be made. I chose Pete. I kind of like the idea of a secret identity. I don’t think I’ll don the Tim nametag when it comes in. I like to be Pete.

We are the children of the Eighties. We are not the first “lost generation” nor today’s lost generation; in fact, we think we know just where we stand - or are discovering it as we speak.

Jeana is sad again. I think she’s got bi-polar disorder or something. Every few months she just stops eating and gets sad. I am always able to cheer her back up and get her eating again, but I’m in college now and she’s not, and I’m going to be moving away soon. I don’t know how much longer she’ll be in my life. I wish it was forever, but one day I’ll be gone, and who’ll be there for her? I don’t know if anyone else loves her enough to care about her and for her like I do. I know none of the guys that call her do. They just like her for her face, her body. Sometimes her personality. Her family is too poor to get her any medicine, if that’s even what she needs. I think mostly she just needs someone to love her, that she can love. She’s had such a sad life. I love her so bad. My heart aches for her. I miss her as soon as I leave her house. I could sit and look at her for hours, watch TV with her forever, never saying a word. Every hug, I never want them to end. I could sit on the arm of her chair with my arms around her, leaning on her shoulder, forever. It’s such a good feeling. I wish I knew how to make her not be sad. I would love to spend more time with her, but I have a job, and school… I’m going to miss her so much when I’m gone. Look at me, I’m getting choked up just writing this. I love her so much. I hope I can find someone like her again someday. She’s my best friend. She’s everything to me. If I never knew anyone else, if there were noone but me, I would be happy, as long as she were there with me. I would marry her if I could, if she would say yes. I would spend the rest of my life with her and never think twice, never be unhappy. I feel like she loves me too, but maybe she’s scared. I don’t know. I was going to call her tonite, to see how she’s doing, but I didn’t get home until 10:30. It’s 12. I have school in 6 and a half hours. I probably won’t go to be until about 1. I pray for her every night. I want her life to be so much better. She deserves it. She’s such an angel. She’s my baby. Sometimes it seems like we’re meant to be together, like God brought us together to save each other, and sometimes it seems like God is keeping us apart. I get so confused. It hurts so bad to be near her, to be able to reach out and touch her, but to be so far. For her not to know. For her to maybe not even care. I think I’ll ask her to go to formal with me this year. I took her to both my proms. As friends. Always as friends. But when I look into her eyes, I can see it. I can see that she loves me. She tries not to let on, she does a good job. Maybe she doesn’t, but if she didn’t, I know I wouldn’t feel it so strong that she does. She’d get mad if I said anything, though. Oh well. I’m strong enough. I can sit here, eat my pain, live with my heart bursting for her, her never knowing. I’ve done it for the last two years. We almost ‘broke up’ over it. For a long time we didn’t talk, didn’t see each other. We’re back now, though. We’ve been back a long time. Maybe if we just keep pretending we’re just friends, maybe it’ll go away. Somehow I doubt it. I don’t know. I wish I did. Dear God, I wish I did. If I could ask God one question, and get a definate, voice from Heaven answer, I would ask if it were worth it. If I should keep doing this, hurting myself like this. Even if we never were more than friends, I would want to know. Because I would still do it, just for her. For her benefit alone. I just want to know, is it worth it? I think I’m her rock. She depends on me. I don’t know if she even believes in God anymore. I know she’s not baptized. It worries me. What if something happens to her? God help me.


If you’re wondering, this is kind of like an online diary for me. I feel like some nights I need to vent. As long as I have something to talk about, I’ll probably post a short (or long) thing every night. I’d never keep a diary for myself, but it feels better if I know other people are reading this. You guys can make fun of me if you want. I’ll stop writing if someone asks me to. Thanks. Goodnight.

P.S. If anyone would like a copy of the entire essay my sig is taken from, just post.

We are the children of the Eighties. We are not the first “lost generation” nor today’s lost generation; in fact, we think we know just where we stand - or are discovering it as we speak.

Pat won. I knew he would. He’s probably the best GoldenEye player I’ve ever seen. He beat the dormie 3 out of 3 times, whooped his ass good. Staying to watch them play made me late for Spanish class, though. I’m glad I was late. As I pulled into the parking lot, there was a girl standing in the middle waving at me. Cool. It was Jeana. What the hell was she doing there? She’s not supposed to be here. I didn’t even think she knew what class I had next. Now I know why she was there. My sisters got in a wreck. They were on the way to school, two in the front of the truck, one in the back seat. They hit some guy in a van. The paramedics life-flighted Becky. Rachel has to have plastic surgery. The doctors say even that won’t cover up all the scars. I’d say Rachel was the prettiest. Sarah made it away with a huge swollen bruise on the forehead from the steering wheel, and a cut nose. She looks like a Bajoran from ST :DS9. Becky’s okay. She just kept going unconscious, that’s why the took the copter. They’re all okay. They’re all home right now, sleeping. Rachel had 69 stitches. Becky had a few, too. Sarah’s lucky she was wearing a seatbelt. I didn’t have to go to Spanish class. Jeana’s mom told my teacher what happened, got the homework, and we left. Jeana was about to break down. I calmed her down. I don’t get upset. Jacob tried not to show it when I told him, but I could tell he was really shook up. I had to go to work, but the girls said he almost cried when he was at the hospital. The last time I saw him cry was when I elbowed him in the sack when we were kids. It was nuts. I think every relative and friend of the family in 100 miles was in the waiting room. The short haired nurse was a bitch. I wanted to tell her off, but my grandmothers and pastor was there, so I bit my lip. Jeana was scared to go in and see Becky when she was released to a room. She’s a scaredy cat. I dunno about her. I don’t know why I’m so calm about this shit. They could have been really hurt, but I didn’t even get excited when Jeana reached in the window and grabbed my hand… “They’re okay. I just want you to know that they’re okay…” “Who? What?” “Your sisters got in a wreck. It was really bad. It totaled the truck. They had to lifeflight Becky.” “Where are they?” … I feel kind of bad that I was so calm about everything. Gabe was bawling like a baby. He’s Rachel’s boyfriend. They’ve been dating for about a year. He’s also Jeana’s younger brother. I like him. He’s cool. He cries easy, though. He’s a great guy. We hang out sometimes, even without Jeana or Rachel. Man, he was torn up. I wasn’t going to tell anyone at work. My boss asked me if I had come straight from school, and I mumbled something about the hospital, so he made me tell him. Then I asked another guy how many times he’d been in a wreck. 5. He’s 19. He asked why. I didn’t want to tell him, but he’s a nice guy. It’s a job. I try to keep my personal shit to myself. Mom has to wake the girls up every few hours, walk them around, make sure they don’t have concussions. It’s 1:18 and I just heard the screen door open. Everyone’s already home. I’m somewhat worried. Maybe it was a dog whimpering. I don’t know. I’m tired. I don’t have Myth&Lit tomorrow, and I think I’m going to skip Spanish. I have to go into town and collect everything we want from the truck. I hear there’s blood everywhere inside it. I hope not. That’s too much for me. I don’t mind blood, but not the blood of my younger sisters splashed freely around the interior of a totaled vehicle. I dunno. I guess Jon’s going with me. We’re gonna have insurance check out my car cuz I hit a deer. Like you guys care. I doubt if anyone even reads this shit I keep pointlessly posting. Entirely pointless, thoroughly mundane, it was said. I guess so. Keeps me busy, clears my head. Helps me sleep, a little. If nobody wants to hear what I have to say, I can still tell thousands. It’s called the internet. Mom’s waking the girls up right now, I can hear her. I should go to bed before she gets down here. Goodnight, moon.


We are the children of the Eighties. We are not the first “lost generation” nor today’s lost generation; in fact, we think we know just where we stand - or are discovering it as we speak.

Consider this as a play.Do you mind listing all the characters with a brief description, near the top. So we can refer to it as we get lost.

I like it, Tim. Reminds me of a web site I found a few years ago and kept up with for a while… I’ll have to see if I can find it. It was a Cool Site of the Day…

Ah, here it is. It used to be called “Maggy’s World” but now it’s called “Water”…

The “Heavy Water” link takes you to her journal. Very cool site and nice design.

Most common question I ask: “What?”
Most common question I get: “Are you really hearing impaired?”

I like it too, Tim. I’m here if you need me.

Characters? Okay.

My Family

Eric - Dad
Nancy - Mom
Jacob - 19 yr. old brother (roommates are Kevin and Aaron, both with LCA)
Tim - me
Sarah - 16 yr. old sister
Rebecca - Becky. 14 yr. old twin
Rachel - other twin

My Friends

Jeana - my very bestest friend
Jon - obligatory best guy friend. People call him a teddy bear
Lambda Chi Alpha - my fraternity. Too many people to be named

Friend’s family’s

Jeana - Daniel, Wanda (parents Daniel is step) Jessica, Greg, Gabe, Jordan, Hannah (1st two older, 3rd about same age, last 2 babies)

Jon - Brett (step), Lori, Jessica (sister)

I have too much family, friends, and relatives to easily list, but these will be the most reoccuring characters. I’ll explain others in full at the bottom of each story. I find it interrupts the flow if I stop and explain during. Pat is with LCA, tho.

I didn’t have school today. Well, spanish class, but I didn’t go. My ankle still hurts a little, but not much. It’s only a little swollen. Becky and Sarah are looking almost normal this morning, but I was thinking of making a Phantom mask for Rachel, considering only the right side of her face is damaged. She wouldn’t like the idea. I have to wake Jon up soon so we can go clean out the truck. The girls went to school during the lunch hour to reassure everyone they were okay. We got so many cards, flowers, and letters yesterday. I don’t think mom will have to cook for a good week, either. Food everywhere.

I found out a couple days ago that Dad lost his job. He’s been working there for 28 years. Worked his way up from mailroom clerk at 16 yrs old, to be supervisor of the underwriting department, 28 years later. Then, they just let him go. Budget cuts, they say. So they get rid of the three people making the most money in that department. The other two are people he’s been working with since near the beginning. Fucking ungrateful bastards. He moved to Omaha for eight years to get their new branch up and running, making it one of the most successful in the company. Finally, he asks to be allowed to transfer back to where his family is, and we moved here, nine years ago. Ungrateful bastards. It should be illegal to do him like this. Mother fuckers. He’ll get a year and a half severence pay, but that’ll only be (maybe) 95k, after taxes. For a family of seven (six, I guess, since Jake moved out), that’s not alot of dough. He’ll find another job, though. Maybe this is writing on the wall. He’s been trying to get his position changed to the intranet supervisor for a few years now. I guess this’ll give him a chance to do what he really loves, tinker with computers for a living. Jon just called. Lost my train of thought. I hope that his insurance will still pay for all of this accident, though. He’s not officially ‘downsized’ until December 1st. Bastards. Nothing like firing a guy during the holidays.

I had the wierdest dream last night. There’s a mall around here, called the Great Mall, it’s over a mile around (it’s a square). The mall was set up like a swap’n’shop. My friends and I (a bunch of high school friends) were walking around, finding all these cool high-tech gizmos. The mall was divided into ‘areas’ which were walled apart by huge glass and steel doors. To get through the doors you had to buy a cell phone from whoever was nearer the door. At least, I think that’s how it went. It’s kind of fuzzy now.

I sort of got my inspiration for this from James Lileks, IMHO, one of the best living writers. has his “Daily Bleats” where he talks about everything from his dogs to his car to his mom dying to the weather changing. The mood is always dreary and sad, even when it’s humorous or light. He’s got a really good style. It has a great feel to it. I’m glad some of you out there like this.

We are the children of the Eighties. We are not the first “lost generation” nor today’s lost generation; in fact, we think we know just where we stand - or are discovering it as we speak.

Man today sucked. I woke up at nine thirty today, so I could be at work by eleven. I somehow dozed off for another hour, so it was ten thirty by the time I actually woke up. I live half an hour from work. I had to haul ass to get there on time. Then, the time clock wouldn’t let me time in. So I called an MoD to the timeclock so they could override the clock so I could get in. He was like “Are you sure you work today?” yeah. I knew I did. As soon as he left, this girl I know came over and looked up my schedule. I wasn’t supposed to work till noon. Jeana kicked me in the ankle last night cuz I made her mad at me. She immediately apologized, but my ankle still ballooned up again. So I had to work a nine hour day on a sore ankle. They got two new guys, but do you think they put one in printers so I could get out on the floor? Of COURSE not! So I’m still selling printers. Damn. Who knows how much longer I’ll be in there. I’m dead broke. I thought we got paid Friday, but it’s not till next. So I have NO cash for gas or lunch all week. This sucks. Saw Stigmata last night. It was okay. Jeana and I always do an MST3K when we watch a movie. It’s funny. Wow my writing’s off tonight. It’s too early, and I’m not tired enough. Sorry.