Dear robo-diary,

I'm sorry I haven't written in a while. The last couple of weeks have been super hectic at work, as projects have been rolling in and I've been trying to redeem myself, socially and professionally. Plus I took a little trip down to DC this weekend to visit an old friend. It gave my patriotism a sorely-needed boost. A metro bus driver gave me several compliments on my diesel digital wristwatch, which made my day. I pride myself in how cool my accessories are. Hats, watches, sunglasses, shoes, messenger bags, etc. We also went to Virginia for a day to see some sites. It was enlightening, as I'd never been there. An interesting observation: I saw a beat up old pickup truck on the highway with two bumper stickers on it. One said "VOTE FREEDOM FIRST" and had an American flag and eagle on it, and the sticker next to it had a big confederate flag on it. I think in this upcoming election, i'm going to vote freedom last, if possible.

Anyway, when we last left our hero, he had just started going to the gym (he hasn't been back yet) and was looking forward to a big party that upcoming weekend. So I went to this party, and had a really good time. I got really drunk and got to talk to a lot of kids I went to school in. A lot of them are in positions similar to mine, so we talked a lot about work, the industry, politics, everything. A lot of them didn't seem all that happy either. Like they weren't really satisfied with their lives. Which is weird, because a few of them had really nice cars. So I was getting increasingly blotto as the night went on, and I started pretty early, so people continued to show up to the party even after I'd hit a pretty good drunk-level. At one point, the doorbell rang, and no one did anything about it, so I took it upon myself to go open the door and greet our new guest. I could see through the screen door that it was a girl, so I composed myself as best I could and went down to the front door, slowly opening it with a big, sincere smile on my face. The girl standing there was really cute. Hip clothes, short hair, and a 6-pack of Bass in one hand, Amstel Light in the other. I liked what I saw. "Hi!" I said enthusiastically, as I held the door open for her. She looked at me for a moment, then rolled her eyes to one side of her head and said "Okayyyy..." and walked inside the house, not saying anything else. I stood there for a moment, still holding the door open, stunned. What the fuck? I couldn't believe how rude she was. I went back upstairs and quietly complained to a bunch of people about this girl's snotty entrance. "Who is that girl?" I asked a few of my female classmates (I can't believe how distant college seems to me now), while swilling more beer and shoving cheese and crackers into my mouth. "I think that's one of Becky's friends? I'm not sure," said one of the girls. "Weh, she don know who she fuhcking wiff" I said, my mouth full of crackers, spraying cracker bits and dust all over one of the girls, who walked away in disgust, brushing herself off. For the next hour, I positioned myself around this girl covertly, glaring at her and drinking imported lager after imported lager, pretending to listen to the people who tried to start conversations with me. "Well, yeah, I think that these new marketing initiatives will be really important in the next year, and uh, we'll see an interesting trend in the return of equities to the company if we keep up this aggressive growth, and um, embrace new media technologies that will enhance user experiences and increase brand loyalty through rebate incentives and...and..." I found myself saying, not even paying attention to the bullshit spewing from my lips. All I could think about was that girl, and how to outwit her. She looked so confident, smart, sassy... Drinking her Bass and tossing her head back with laughter, never making eye contact with me. It drove me crazy. I spent the rest of the night working up the drunken courage to approach her, trying to figure out something to say that would baffle her. At the same time though, I wanted to somehow impress her. I was oddly attracted to her. Twenty-four years old, and I still can't figure these things out. Anyway, things started to wind down as people started leaving, and only the drunkest remained. A good amount of people were still there though. I couldn't stomach anymore beer, and by that point I was really really drunk, and completely obsessed with confronting this mystery girl. So I finally stumbed over to her, everything around me moving slowly as I approached with hesitation. Even as drunk as I was, I was actually nervous. She stopped talking to her friends and just stood there, staring at me blankly as I slowly walked towards her, trying not to look as drunk as I actually was. I stood there for a moment, trying to compose myself, while her and her friends just looked at me. I think one of them was snickering at me. I hadn't really thought of what I was going to say to her exactly, so all that came out was: "Hey. So...uh...want to find out why they call me ostentatious B?" She stared at me...."Wh-what?" she asked, laughing a little bit. "Want to, uh...want to..haha...fuck. I don't know." I then held out my hand and offered her a proper introduction. Suprisingly she accepted it and seemed genuinely pleased to make my acquaintance. Her friends walked away from me and we stood there, slowly building up to a conversation, which was actually really interesting and lasted a good half hour before I abruptly told her that I had to go to bed and dream of electric sheep. Somehow I woke up with her email address written on a ripped piece of toilet paper in my pocket. I never found out why she was so rude to me upon her arrival. This girl baffles me so. I have yet to email her...I'm trying to figure out how to approach this. We'll see where this goes...

In my quest for self-improvement, I finally got myself to start going to the gym. I've gone once, anyway. I didn't care for it all that much. It reminded me of the times I used to go to the gym in college and all of the gross meatheads that would hog all the nautilus machines for like fifteen minutes at a time. There were a few meatheads at this gym, but luckily not nearly as many as I expected. There were also a bunch of sexy ladies in tight spandex, which made me really insecure and uncomfortable. Of course I was wearing all brand new clothes; a pair of New Balance running shoes I bought last week, new Nike shorts, a hot new Puma shirt. I considered getting a headband and some wristbands, but thought that might be too over the top. I bought them anyway, but didn't wear them at the gym. I also bought a new minidisc player, since I didn't want use my old one and get it dirtied up at the gym. I started out on one of those elliptical machines, and did that for about ten minutes before I looked around me and realized I was the only male in the gym using one. For fear of looking like a homosexual, I quickly switched to a treadmill. My performance was pretty laughable, and when I felt I had sweat enough, I got off the treadmill and walked toward the weight machines. I want to get my arms real huge and fierce-looking. As I was walking toward the weights, with my legs all wobbly, this big douche-looking meathead starts walking towards me. He's got the tiniest shirt on and his muscles are all glistening. He has this smirk on his face that just makes me hate him so much. So I try to look as sure-footed and physically competent as possible as I walk towards him. Of course, right when I am about to pass him, something, an eyelash or sweat or something, gets into one of my eyes, and I immediately flinch and blink really hard. The asshole thought I was flinching because of him, and as he passes me he laughs quietly–this confident, toughguy laugh. Dammit. Why did that have to happen? How am I supposed to prove myself in the gym scene if the resident muscleheads think I'm a big pussy and am already scared of them? I spent the next half hour working my rage out in the weight machine section. I mostly fantasized about bashing the guy's head in with a barbell. It really gave me a performance boost as I frantically went from machine to machine. Well, that, and all of the dietary and exercise supplements I purchased at GNC. My heart was palpitating a lot, but whatever. In the end, my first workout went really well, and I already feel better about myself. Plus I saw the guy who snickered at me get into his car (a Dodge Intrepid - ooooohhhhh), so he'll definately get vandalized in the near future. By me. I'm super psyched for this weekend. I'm going to a party tomorrow with some friends from college I haven't seen in a good while, and I'm feeling really confident. It's time to find me a new mate.

They told me that they think I need help. And getting help would lessen the chances of being fired. And I don't want to be fired because I fear change, and all the stress that comes along with searching for/getting a new job. So I had my first psychiatric session on Monday. I've never had one before. I think I learned a lot about myself and really understand how I can better myself and become the man I've always wanted to be.

The shrink was a nice guy...basically how I expected him to be. Soft-spoken, bearded, with a nice overall atmosphere in his office. Much nicer than the other offices I've been to as a child. Doctors, dentists, orthodontists, optometrists, allergy specialists, physical therapists, dermatologists, chiropractors, etc. For some reason, I immediately felt comfortable with this man. He seemed so approachable. And I was prepared to completely reveal myself to him. I didn''t care what he might think about me. It's his job to listen to what I say, no matter how unsettling it may be. So I sat on his nice little couch, and he basically just let me talk, which I love to do. He asked me to tell him about myself, about my childhood, my present life, and what I want for the future. I told him that I basically just want a nice big house by the beach, a hot wife, a bunch of foreign sportcars and luxury cars, and a really sweet home entertainment center. He told me that a lot of people my age are focused on material gain, but neglect their emotional and spiritual needs. I just nodded my head and said "yeah, but have you been to Best Buy lately? Those new plasma televisions are incredible! I can't wait to be able to afford one." Then he decided to change the subject. "Okay B, lie down and relax. I want to know what moves you. Tell me something about...the most beautiful thing you've ever seen." And I opened my mouth to speak but he quickly interrupted, "NOT something about televisions or cars or stereos either. Or women with big breasts." And I laid back for a moment and thought about what was really beautiful to me. And at first I couldn't think of anything. I could only think of bad things. Rigged elections, new world orders, media-biased wars, the oncoming complete downfall of humanity. "No," I said, "I'm a monster. All I can think about is bad stuff. And porn. A lot of porn." "Come on B," he coaxed, "I'm sure there's something you've seen or felt in your life that's really moved you. It can be anything. Not just a place or a person or a thing." "Well," I spoke softly, deep in thought, "there was this one time, this one thing I can remember, that for some reason, always seemed so special to me. It was few years ago." I paused in recollection. "Go on," he told me. "I had an internship during college, in San Francisco, during the peak of the dot-com boom. I was living outside the city, and I'd take the train in every day. On the walk from the train station I passed a lot of interesting sites. A lot of bums, mostly. But there was one day..actually I think it was two occasions, where I saw this young man crossing the street. And he was obviously retarded..um, he had down syndrome. He was probably in his twenties. But it looked like he was going to work or something. He had this brown leather briefcase slung over his shoulder..there was something about the way he carried himself that made him seem really purposeful and grown up. Just like anyone else in the city that was on their way to work. It really struck a chord in me. How someone so flawed at a fundamental genetic level could be so strong and independent and capable. It really seemed beautiful to me. I watched him for about a minute, then I ended up seeing him again on the same street a few days later, and it really made me happy to see him. It was really...wonderful." I sat there for a while longer, not saying anything. I think I really moved the shrink. He didn't say anything for a minute, then he spoke. "Wow B. That's really nice. I'm glad you can identify with something like that. You see? It shows you're not a monster at all. You're a sensitive, intelligent human being." "I'm a sensitive...intelligent...human being," I repeated to myself, quietly. "Okay B, our time is up. I want you to think about the things we've talked about, and further explore the things you've told me about yourself. Especially that last part. And I'd like you to come back again next week and elaborate on these things." I happily agreed, feeling like something had been lifted off of my shoulders. I shook his hand and went home to go play with my kitty, who I've been neglecting lately. I'll pick him up some cat treats and a new squeaky mouse since he lost his old one, I thought. Then I'll go to the Stop and Shop (not the Shoprite) and pick up some veggies so I can make a stir fry. Then I'm going to stop by the gym and finally get a membership. No more feeling like shit. No more hating everything and everyone. I want a girlfriend again. I'm going to make things better for myself.

I did all of those things on my way home. That night I dreamt about the shrink, and his beard, which for some reason seemed very fake in the dream. I woke up feeling very mistrusting. I dont need him, I thought. I'm going to turn things around myself, without his help. That's MY money, not his! Besides, I fulfilled my requirements at work by at least trying to see a psychiatrist for a session. That day I opened up a money market to start putting away money for my dream home entertainment center.