Dear Diary…

Regardless of what you may think of my current life, my life over the last 2 years has been absoluetely crazy, and it’s just now settling down, and I guess I should be reveling in that fact.

My girlfriend and I went to a goth club last night.. The Church. I’ve never been, but I know infinite amounts of people who go there, both from my hometown and from big D.

I actually broached the subject of whether or not she still meant what she said Monday night about backing off, and she still does. However, her actions haven’t really changed. Which makes me scared it’s her feelings.

She told me she has always had a problem in relationships, where she gets bored and loses interest, even when she doesn’t want to. I’m torn in my head between showing all the affection and passion I can to show that ‘flames’ can be re-kindled or whatever, or playing hard-to-get in hopes she may think she’s losing something and try harder or something.

So I dunno. I’m trying not to think about… hadda get that crap off me chest.

But I was talking with skunk_girl yesterday about how far I’ve come this year. And she said I ought to put it in the diary. Which would probably make for good story and good ratings or whatever. So I’m going to post it up bit by bit, because it’s a long assed story. It gets really personal, and a bunch of you guys will probably have less of a bit of respect for me after the story is done because I did some bad things, bad choices really. But I’m going to put it up here anyways.


It really all started when I moved out. The excitement anyways. When I moved out of my parents house. My parents and I have what I would say would be an excellent relationship. At the time I was working at a local ISP for my hometown. I had been working there since they started in the biz. I absolutely loved my job.

I was going out with a girl at the time I moved out. Her nick I think was Z.., so we’ll call her that. Z.. and I were both very strong Christians, and it was one of the weirdest relationships I’ve ever been in. It was one of the best, though. She was my first real kiss, first one true love. I think we had been going out for about 5 months. She was the reason I was moving out, so I could spend more time with her. It was her suggestion.

She was one of the reasons. The other reason was that my relationship with my parents had been rapidly deteriorating, because on top of me being a workaholic at the time (for fun, I would go to work. I enjoyed my job that much), I spent any other excess time with my girl.

Well, about that time, she had gone back to college, about 2 hours away from where we lived. And sure enough, the very weekend I got moved into my house, she decided that it was time to break up. Just be friends.

I had been ready to pop the question to this girl a few days earlier, or at least start looking at rings or something. It’s always when I decide to completely devote myself to a girl when they drop the bomb.

It was a sad day. I went over to her house. She said “We need to talk.” It was so cliche from the beginning of that encounter. Like I told her I loved her and she didn’t say anything back. Absofricklutely retarded. That’s always your first sign. We need to talk is the second sign of the apocolypse. Maybe a missed kiss, or the way she looks at you with that sad look. They know they are about to break your heart. And they do it anyway.

She was the kind of girl that goes from relationship to relationship. Which seems to be the only kind of girl I can seem to attract. The only kind.

But at anyrate, it took me about 3 months to get over her, in which that time I took to settle into my new house. I barely spoke with her over this time… and this going from a relationship where when she was in town, we’d go on a date every night, then talk in her room for hours, then go home and chat on the internet for hours until we crashed.

When she was away, we’d chat for hours when we were supposed to be doing other things. Like sleeping, class or working.

But anyways, I didn’t speak with her hardly at all. That was a rule I made up. Let’s not talk with each other for a month. If we can’t absolutely stand it, then we need to get back together.

I keep digressing. Eergh. Well, let me introduce you to my house, take you on the tour, and show you who lives here.

My house (another thing of pride and joy to me), was an old thing, built in the ’30’s, original wiring. The company that made the fuses went out of business in the great depression.

It was a split level, the upstairs belonged to Danny and Kathy, downstairs belonged to me, and my roommates Dewey, and Travis. It was all hardwood floors, big livingroom, kitchet, diningroom, 1 bath on the floor level, 2 bedrooms, and plus we had a basement. All in all, about 2200 square feet. We turned the basement into two more bedrooms, one a bunk bedroom, the other a regular bedroom/gameroom.

Travis really wasn’t supposed to live there. In order for Dewey and I to live there, we had to clean up the house and rennovate it. Big investment. All in all, I put about 3k into it. Building the bunk downstairs, the bar upstairs, painting, taking up the carpet, polishing the floors.

Dewey is a crazy guy. I mean utterly nuts. Not a drug user, didn’t fubar his mind that way. He’s just … Dewey. He has these things called Deweyisms. He’ll just come up with a random word or use a word some way its never intended to be used, and pretty soon everyone is saying it. Mostly because it’s so off the wall that it’s funny as hell.

Dewey and I were the original intended inhabitants. But then he invited Travis to come live with us, which was a mistake. For some reason he invited someone who was known never to be responsible nor pay rent to come live in our house. And the whole time he lived there he never paid me rent, except with one rubber check. Which turns out to bite me on the ass about 2 years later, but I’ll be coming to that in a long while.

Travis is a loser. Travis is cool to hang out with, but not live with. Travis is good at fixing things and cooking, but is an absolute slob. I’m not saying that I’m any kind of clean freak, and I’m sure that if any of my RL friends read that line, they’ll laugh at how true it is, but Travis put me to shame.

When Travis decided to move in, he invited another friend we all knew, a girl from church (which is where we all met, BTW), named Courtney, to live with us. She was just getting out of a bad relationship, and personally, I think Travis was looking to score. But Courtney almost immediately met a guy that everyone from the clan back then remembers as Big Nate.

Nathan was cool. He was about as tall as me (I’m 6’4″), and he looked like Bill Goldberg (the wrasslin’ dude from the WCW). And he was a huge wrasslin’ fan.

And those were the original players in the game. The original members of what became known as the ‘House of Neddin’.

(The name House of Neddin comes from an ICP song. Neddin is a euphimism for sex. I would normally explain where the name came from, but I’m going to go into enough detail about this story that it’ll become quite apparent).

All this took place in about September of 1998.


Well, now that I’ve introduced everyone and gave you the run down of the house, I’m going to close out this portion so that I’ll actually have something posted up today. I’m here till 9:00 pm today, so look for further updates tonight. (I switched shifts with Phillip because he had to go pick up Cure tickets tonight).

/rizzn

Quote of the Entry: (from chat log today)

Phitt: I was thinking about going in

to the midget slavery business

Rizzn: hmm

Rizzn: good career move