Finally had to tear myself away from this computer and get going. The dump run was non-eventful even though I was sporting my brand new yellow dump sticker that NOBODY NOTICED. Nothing at the "Good Stuff" table worth looking at 'cept for an interesting old beer sign that might look good on the wall someplace in the livingroom . . . .then again it might not. I'll check in again next week.

The Neanderthal's at Cricenti's are back at it again. First, I get this teenybopper-prepubescent checkout girl who looks as though she has never been so bored in all of her sixteen years. She mouths the words "Hello" by rote as I read the voice bubble above her head that says, "I hate this job."

Once again, Mr. Anderson of Alexandria has selected an item from the store which is not price marked and which will not scan correctly.... "PRICE CHECK!" The teenpube says, as she curls her mouth downward whilst chewing bubblegum in such a manner to project her hatred of me for holding up the line that is no doubt the only excitement she has seen all day.

Cricenti's hires from two age groups: 1) THE VERY, VERY YOUNG AND IMMATURE. 2) THE VERY, VERY OLD AND SENILE. The price check "boy" who obviously forgot his walker and seeing eye dog, took my item and vanished for the next . . . . . five? ten? minutes. Meanwhile, the teenpube snapped and popped her gum while looking into the empty void of space (obviously a very familiar place for her).

As a customer in this predicament you have several choices: 1) Act totally embarrassed and try to focus on anything in the store that isn't staring back at you like you are an imbecile. 2) Act the goody, goody and laugh nervously and apologize to everyone around including the teenpube. 3) Act annoyed and downright pissed because AFTERALL this is NOT your damn fault anyway. 4) Make smartassed, passive-aggressive little remarks to the teenpube like, "Hey! You've got quite the zit going on there on your chin! Wow! I never seen one that big before!" or start in on the lady behind you with, "My mom used to have a dress like that before she went to Diet Workshop." Just keep your mouth shut if it's a guy cause they've been through all this before and most have cursed under their breath, "Why the hell didn't my wife do this." (single males like myself are exempt from this statement of blame).

I picked #3 today.

Washed my truck at Ferguson's. I'm a regular now and the guys nod at me acknowledging my presence like I'm cool or something. One of the guys scrubbing the hood said, "Nice color, I like this," and I could feel my face flush a bit as my chest expanded. Trucks are cool. Four-wheel drive trucks are the ultimate in machocool. I own a four-wheel drive machocool truck with a nice color. Three more punches and I get a free wash.

Did the library thing. God I love that place. The furniture is better than mine and it just feels so homey there. The girls in the tight pants are a nice bonus too. I checked out a total of six books. Damn. Some kinda record. The guy says to me, "May I help you?" (like I needed help) . . . so, I take my brand new Lamson library card out and toss it at him with that knowing grin (this guy doesn't know I'm a member) and suddenly his face changes . . . . recognition washes over him as he stands straighter and he smiles once he realizes that I AM A LAMSON LIBRARY CARD HOLDER. The bastard will never be the same.

Stopped by to visit Louie. Louie is our resident neighborhood Italian. He tried to give me a bottle of coke and a bottle of olive oil when I left. I had to wave him off. He's a good guy. We talked about a grave mistake I had recently made regarding a sweet girl from Keene. He asks about her often. So I left to go home and call her . . . . -Jeeem-

Just spent most of my morning perusing my usual blog sites to see what is up. I've been slacking lately, partly due to the relationship I was involved in and just not being in tune with myself. Spent a good while on Chris Allen's site: The Black Telescope. A very interesting blend of musicians who not only play music but also travel and write. I have asked Chris if I can come visit him in Belfast but truthfully, I am like a kid in a candy shop right now, in search of a place to go.

I've got about a grand and it's burning a hole in my pocket. Bangkok is an option, although Pim's mum is sick so I'd be on my own. Thought about Hong Kong, Shanghai, Beijing, Panama, Caracas, Rangoon, London, Dublin and a host of others but want that money to s-t-r-e-t-c-h as far as it can go. Perhaps I should exercise the novel idea of saving for a better trip. Hummmmm........ Naw! Screw it! I'm gonna go SOMEWHERE.

I made a pact with myself last year. I said I'd travel the HELL OUT of the U.S. every year, if only for a week. So, the skys the limit. Stay tuned fellow bloggers to see where the hell I end up.

The breakup is two days old now. The heart is recovering rapidly as I did not allow myself to fall in love again, my big cinderblock and brick barrier working as planned. My suspiciousness is well tuned. This was not right for me. I could feel it in my bones but gave it the old college try anyway. The wallet is still smoking a bit though. I'm such a cheapskate . . . er, uh frugal! Frugal is the word I think . . . yeah, yeah, that's the ticket!

Am I to go through life without a mate? Would that be acceptable? I'm not going to end up like May Sarton for crissakes. I want to travel and meet people and do weird shit like ride a platypus. Can one ride platypi? I'd ride one if you could. My memories of Mindanao are still fairly fresh and if it weren't for the unrest down there right now, I'd go back in a heartbeat.

Trouble is I listen to too many people. People here in the U.S. freak out about travel to Asia. My office mate Wanda calls the countries I am interested in, "Harsh Countries." She says, "Jim's going to a HARSH country again!" The U.K. isn't harsh in her book. Neither is the Carribean. Naw . . . let's go to Suriname! How bout the Honduras? I can speak a leetle Spanish. Muy pokito el speako Espanolo.

Well, I'm rambling here. Too much coffee again. None of my European friends are inviting me over to see them. Probably read too much of my blogging and are very afraid. The hell with you guys. Dominique (Common name that it is in Canada) hasn't even offered to put me up in her flat with her dog who barks at people who have middle eastern accents and break their keys off in their locks at ungodly hours of the morning (sounds pretty suspicious to me). Besides, I'd probably only get hit by a car in Montreal while crossing the street in traffic.

Ah....well, being the free man I am now, I've decided today to: A) Grow my beard back. B) Pick up my laundry and my dry cleaned tie (toothpaste) C) Grab up my books, diskette, rough draft of my research proposal and go to Lamson Library at PSC (my home away from home) D) Treat myself to some greasy tidbit in the great PSC college town. WHOOPIE! PARTY! God, am I getting old or what?

Send all salutations, flowers, gifts, and hate mail to: Jeeem

Have you read, "Dominique Goes on a Job Interview," lately? It's a good read and very detailed but it leaves you hanging. Did she actually take the damn job or not? Last I remember she was crying on a park bench. Perhaps I've missed something.

Dominique mentions wondering about who she will marry when she was a little girl. I used to wonder that stuff when I was a little boy. I'd be daydreaming somewhere and would think to myself, "I wonder where in the world my wife is right now?" I never got into that funky astrology stuff. I'm a Leo so I'm exempt from having to correctly pair with another astrological figure as we Leo's naturally can fit into any astrological sign simply by willing ourselves to do so.

If I had been able to look into the future back then while daydreaming as a little boy, I would have been horrified. You see, I have this powerful fear.... It's called abandonment. It is not a normal fear I don't think and it rules me to no end. I can't seem to get rid of it and it has become my albatross to bear.

Maybe I will try Dominique's Apple Twist Theory. She obviously gave up too early. I'm gonna just go down to Cricenti's and hang around the fruit counter all day till I get it right. I just got done with Statistics so I'll twist off something like fifty thousand Apple Stems and take a random sample of the letters I come up with, reject my null hypothesis and do a Chi square. I'll come up with a wife if it kills me. (unless I get busted for fruit assault - a class A felony in the U.S. "eh?") -Jeeem-

Welcome back to Dave Emberton (Alias The Daily Dave), whose raving fans got the best of him. -Jeeem-

Oooooh Mark .... I'm jealous.

Ireland huh? (Jim strolls out to Mark's Land Rover and kneels down, peering into the passenger window)

"Take me with you," he says to Mark and Sarah.

"I can make Guacamole and I have a canopener on my keychain"
-Jeeem-

Wwhoo Boy! Somebody stop the world from spinning!

I did it again folks. Yep mousecateers, ole Jeeem got into another whirlwind romance that was not good for him. You'd think I'd learn from my mistakes. Oh well. I managed to dig myself out of it and feel like somebody lifted a big stone off my shoulders. Just got off the phone with Guiness Book of World Records and seems I need to get in (and out of) at least thirty more relationships before they'll send one of their people out to interview me. Guess I better get busy.

My laptop fried. I'm talking cooked. I plugged the thing in, powered it up and it froze and wouldn't shut down. Couldn't even turn the thing off. Smelled the pungent odor of plastic melting and then it just made a sick beep sound and petered out completely. First thing in my mind was, "Is the damn thing still under warranty?" Well, naturally it was/is as I've only had the damn thing for two months. So, I got on the phone to Dell support.

Have any of you experienced this? Un-freakin' real. Here's how it goes:

"Welcome to Dell Customer and Technical Support. If you know your party's 5 digit extension, please enter it now. If you are calling in regards to a Dell Optima system, please press the number one. If you are calling about an Inspiron portable system, please press two." and so on and so forth. I was on the phone for three days trying to get a human being. When I finally got one, it went something like this.....

"Hello, Dell Customer Support, Marie speaking, how may I help you?"
*three or four second pause* "Hello?"
"Hello?"
"Is this a REAL person I'm talking to?"
"Yes. My name is Marie. How may I help you?"
"Oh, Thank God Marie. I am so glad to finally get a human being! Can I tell you that Marie was my mother's name?"
"Oh. Well, that's nice. How may I help you this morning?"
"Marie, I'm sorry. My name is Jim. Jim Anderson. I am so relieved to talk to you Marie."
"That's good. How may I help you Mr. Anderson"
"Please call me Jim, Marie."
"Okay Jim. How may I help you?"

This banter went on for a bit until I told her what my problem was. First off, I did not have the laptop in my possession (big mistake) and found that I was talking to the wrong department. I would have to speak with Technical Service.....

"Please Marie. Don't leave me!"
"I will need to transfer you to Technical Service Mr. Anderson . . er, uh, Jim."
"Thank you Marie. It was nice talking to you. I hope I get to talk to you again Marie . . . er, uh, goodbye Marie"
"Goodbye Jim"

*Jim enters the Abyss of cable silence and elevator music*

"Thank you for waiting. All service personnel are busy with other customers. Please stay on the line and the next available technician will be with you promptly."

I wonder if I broke some sort of Guiness Book of World Records for hearing that recording.

Finally I got Manuel. Manuel was young. I could hear his youngness in his voice. The starched shirts had not gotten to him yet. I immediately played on his sympathy but alas, I did not have my Service Tag number nor my Express Service Code with me.

"I am so sorry Jim. I really cannot help you without those numbers."

I bid him goodbye and told him that I would remember him fondly.

Two days later the issues was resolved. I talked to a guy named Eric (with a "C") who told me they would send out a replacement unit as soon as one was built. Probably three to five weeks.

I have Manuel and Marie's extension numbers and plan on keeping in touch with them. Perhaps I will send them a picture of myself.

-Jeeem-

Almost forgot.....

I called the Vietnamese Embassy in Washington, DC for the umteenth time yesterday. You see, it was closed from the 11th to the 14th in celebration of the Vietnamese Lunar New Year. So, here is the dialog (complete with my imagination):

"Herro, Vianamese Imbassi"

"Hi. My name is Jim Anderson. My full name is Leonard J. Anderson. I sent my passport to you on the 8th for an entry visa and I need to cancel it as my trip to Asia was cancelled"

(imagine this little brown guy holding the phone and covering it with his hand, talking to his colleagues in the office) "It's thaat dam Amelican again."

"Ohkaay. You tell me name again."

L-E-O-N-A-R-D
J-A-M-E-S
A-N-D-E-R-S-O-N

"Annersan?" (giggling while holding phone)

"No. A-N-D-E-R-S-O-N"

"Tha's wha I said. Annersan." (more giggling)

You see, these guys speak perfect English. They are just sick of me calling and everytime I hang up, they all make fun of me. I just know it.

Stay tuned for the plight of Jim Annersan's "Return of the passport." -Jeeem-

Whew! What a whirlwind couple of days.

That subject of love thing? Well, here it is: I find that if the woman I am with is very loving and pursues me with a vengence, I retreat. If she plays coy and teases me, not fully giving of her love, I chase after her with all the gusto I can muster. I often wonder if there is a happy medium. Possibly not. I wonder if I will remain single for the rest of my life. Will I be in my fifties and still dating? God, I hope not. That's gross.

Currently I am in deep procrastination. I have a paper due and need to study for my mid-term. I hate this crap. I don't know why I do this to myself every time, but I always do. So, today it's the library at Plymouth State. All those little nymphs running around with their low slung jeans and long beautiful hair, full breasts and pouting lips. Most of them could be my daughter. There ought to be a law. Can't a guy study in peace? I'm such a male.

So, the latest in the works is a trip to London. A Eurail pass and a lot of ingenuity. My lady is planning on going with me. Ought to be interesting. The Griswalds go to Europe.

Haven't read any postings lately on the other sites, except Peter's. I find myself reading Peter's postings over and over and over and sometimes still not getting it. Must be that European way of thinking. He's much more well-read than I. Can't seem to get on Dominique's site and Dave is still stagnant. Guess I've read more than I would admit to.

Well, it's a cold day in town. I begin disliking the winter greatly right about this time of year. Only a couple more months to slog through. Hopefully I'll be the hell out of Dodge in April for two glorious weeks. England, Scotland, Ireland (maybe), France, Italy and maybe a dash of Spain. Can't wait. -Jeeem-

Well, it's official. The Bangkok trip is cancelled. Talk about last minute stuff. Pim's mum is very, very sick and she could not possibly focus on the Vietnam trip and enjoy herself so this is for the best. My prayers are with her, her family and her mother.

I don't have time to blog this morning but I had a brainstorm this morning about myself, regarding the subject of love. I have my mini recorder in my hand though and will tape my thoughts on the way to work. We are in the midst of an ice storm here and this always has a tendency to depress me, which is what I am feeling now. The old dopamine levels are plummeting. Save that half tab Peter and send it to me via post! LOL.

Sometimes I wish I could turn off the thoughts, but it's what keeps me who I am. I've been accused of being too deep but I wonder if there is such a thing or if it's just shallow people's excuse to avoid any depth. Dominique says her mom accused her of talking too much..... well, my father used to say, "You got diarrhea of the mouth son."

I'll leave you with that visual. Stay tuned. -Jeeem-

Those English folks...blokes I guess you call them, use some pretty weird terms. Weird if you're a South western mexican-indian Texan living in New England. Peter of Naked Blog is talking about all sorts of mouse-rollers and quids (is that like calamari?) and the like. Guess I better brush up on my english terms if I'm gonna travel there and try and understand those bloody blokes. Jeez, I better be careful using some of these terms as I don't know what's a flaming slam and what isn't.

Hey! Youse guys should chill an stan up wit the hommies. Don be talkin' no jive shit an jammin me up now. Stone col mo fo's. Brits should learn how ta talk right and not all crazy an shit. Heck, up here in New England you can travel two hundred miles and hear dialects that ya don't even understand. Mainiacs are the worst. Boston accents like "Paaak da caw in Haaavaad yaaaad fa a quaaaata" are not as bad as you think when ya got so many different cultures in one inner city. I always have trouble when I take the T from Wellington station into Boston and can't understand the Metro guys behind the bulletproof glass. "Aighty sens maaaan. Yo gots ta puut da cown in da slats maaan." Holy crap. The worlds a meltin' pot maaan! -Jeeem-