June 13, 2004

::Spaceman - Initiating Communication::

The following account is a work of fiction.

So the Mad Scientist came by my house...

For the purposes of this story, the Mad Scientist is a completely fictional character with knowledge that is quite near omniscient. Bear with me.

We were sitting in the living room, completely unaware that he was about to knock on the door. When the knock came, I looked through the window to see a huge grin first of all, then a set of pupils which served only to confirm what I had already guessed: the boy was blitzed.

The Mad Scientist's bag of tricks is a little different each time he shows up. In this instance, a bit of 2CC and 50 mg of AMT.

I had read quite a bit about AMT, and was fascinated by the reports I had heard of it.

I grilled him a bit, just to make sure that my memory of it's properties was correct. MAO Inhibitor, a hallucinogenic, along with some serotonurgic and dopamanurgic effects. Users tended to report a deep empathenogenic property, along with a lot of alertness, and LSD-like psychedelic effects. The only problem was that due to the MAOI effect, side effects were quite common, fairly powerful, and difficult for many users to handle. Jaw clenching, nausea, shudder vision and the like. A few warnings in effect: no driving, of course. Avoid certain foods, such as avacadoes, red wine, cheese and such. The Mad Scientist suggested a minimum of a 12 -hour fast before imbibing the substance, and for tasting up, suggested that about 15 milligrams smoked would be absolutely lovely. He then took off, almost hit a cop pulling out of our driveway, and drove off into the night, cackling manically.

It was about 11 in the evening, and I had just eaten a huge Chinese meal at around six, so I put the newly aquired AMT away and went to sleep for the evening.

5:30 A.M.

My friend calls me up. Her and her boyfriend had just broken up. She was on the way over, and we needed butter-pecan and chocolate-peanut-butter ice cream, stat!

Off to the local 24-hour Baskin Robbins!

We get back, and I figured since I was awake I may as well try the Mad Scientist's advice. 15 minutes and one ruined light bulb later, I had 25 mg of AMT melted on glass for my pleasure.

S-CHHH!

BLECCH. I briefly wondered what The Mad Scientist had been on when he suggested smoking this stuff as a viable option, but then I remembered that I knew exactly what he had been on. No wonder I quit freebasing... well... months ago. It was like smoking plastic off of a cast iron stove. Not fun.

7:00 A.M.

I ride a bike to the gas station to get some chicken noodle soup. Drank a bottle of V8 Splash, ate a bit of fried rice.

7:30 A.m.

I'm feeling a bit odd, a bit tweaky, a bit excited. I decide to take a nap for a little while, knowing that this substance takes some time longer than others to kick in. I lie down next to my fiance, and settle into a fitful series of fascinating, half-awake, partially lucid dreams. Fun.

9:30 A.M.

I wake up, and take the other 25 mg orally. I settle back into fitful sleep.

10:30 A.M.

I awake with a very interesting body high. Go to take a shower, and shave. In the process, lost the juice and rice to the toilet and sink. Now I know why a fast was suggested. That could have been unpleasant with a full stomach.

11:00 A.M.

I tell Amber it is really close to noon. She groggily wakes up. Doesn't discover my deception until it is actually noon.

12:00

We decide to head to Wal-Mart. While going outside, I notice that my perception of colors is extremely keen. I get lost seeing the various hues of different kinds of rock intermixed the occasional green of vegetation. Light and shadow are clear and fascinating: I spent two minutes admiring the way the direction of the sunlight sent different shades of brown up a telephone pole. The visual aspect is wonderful, but the side-effects are starting to kick in, with a bit of jaw flutter and a general twitchiness of the muscles.

12:30 P.M.

I check my pulse and blood pressure with the machine at Walmart. 164/91, a tad bit on the high side, but with a sitting-down pulse rate of *124* beats per minute. Jesus. Definitely not for those with heart problems.

On the way out of Wal-Mart, I comment that it is actually a very colorful place, in this fantastically dreary, corporate kind of way. Amber finds this very funny.

1:15 p.m.

Back at home. Amber and Amanda are in our room, I am spinning music. The music sounds wonderful, but my technical DJing skills are shot to shit. Better luck next time, when I'm a bit more sober. The visuals kind of fade into the background at this point while I concentrate on music, but my perception of color and lighting is still amazingly keen. I also note a euphoric, MDMA type feeling, but smoother, without the waving-in/waving-out quality of MDMA. A strong, but mellow high, with a increased ability of communication and ease of speaking. Jaw still fluttering, though. Grr.

2:15 P.M.

We take Amanda home. Amber and I head back. The warm Albuquerque air feels really, really good.

3:00 P.M.

We make it back home. I sit down to node this trip report, but am distracted by a naked and giggling girl in my bed. Plans of noding summarily abandoned.

3:00 P.M. - 7:00 P.M.

Whispered secrets, the play of sunlight across a smooth, rosy-pink cheek. Lifting of barriers through communication. I am able to discuss things I'd kept hidden before.

Sea-blue eyes, drawing my deeper than anything imaginable, the soft skin of my beloved's shoulders. Soothing, hypnotic voice, an occasional sparkling, musical laugh. The mental and empathic qualities of the drug are enhanced by her wit and utterly charming intellect, while the visual acuity and appreciation of color and form go hand in hand with having such a perfect work of art to contemplate with my new-found vision. I spend at least an hour just loving the sight of her.

Bliss. Her form -

Yes, more more...

- moving above me, her voice, calling my name.

My love, my goddess

Light. Dissolution of self. Meditation in motion. A cry, an explosion of colors. My lover, in my arms. Tears of joy.

Relaxation. Idle cuddles. Laughter, like that of carefree children floating in the air.

Loving, tender contact in touches. Loving, tender contact in words. Loving, tender contact in spirit.

Jaw is still fluttering, though. And Amber has this nice tendency to raise my serotonin levels, making the jaw fluttering even worse. Fuck.

7:45 P.M.

We curl up on the futon, myself with a cup of coffee, a doob, and the girl in my lap. We watch several episodes of Cowboy Bebop. It's the first time I've seen it. The show fucking rocks.

8:45 P.M.

Ravenously hungry. It's Sonic time. Yum. :)

9:30 P.M.

I'm finally falling off from the plateau. Still a definite effect, but very subtle. Colors are more noticable, but I'm not quite as twitchy. I spin for a bit longer before our friends come to get our desk, since we're moving and all that. This set is better. Didn't record it, though. Dammit.

11:30 P.M.

Still effected, though slightly. Desk gone, girl asleep. Munch a bit of food, and write a trip report for the day.

Final thoughts:

Smoking it was a waste. Blech. Definitely not something I would recommend. I could see where the side-effects could become unbearable at higher dosages. Probably more of a chem for those who can appreciate a subtle, long lasting high. At high dosages, you're going to end up a twittering freak. Not good, especially if you're frequenting a Wal-Mart on your ventures. Only dose of the stuff I've found in three years, so I look forward to another try, although I don't expect it. (Author's note: Well, I got proved wrong on that one. Expect a new report after Neptunalia.) New users should definitely take note of the multi-hour time period it takes for it to kick in. Be patient. It is also advisable to have some cannabis on hand to help with nausea.

::Spaceman - Ending Transmission::

"You're incredible."

I smiled as I continued to hug her and felt the warmth of her skin beneath my hands and her body pressed up against mine. "Thanks," I said. "I don't hear that nearly enough."

"You're incredible," she repeated and then paused. "Is that enough?" she asked with a soft voice in my ear.

I still felt playful and traced my hands up her back gently, still very happy to continue the embrace that we shared in her forward living room where people walked around us. "Nope," I said impishly. "It'll never be enough."

"You're incredible times infinity," she said with a small, quiet laugh. "I love you," she said.

For the fraction of a second it took me to process those words, I tried (impotently) to discern the meaning behind them. Does she love me as a friend? Does she really dig how our energies seem so compatible? Does she love the way I stroke her hair and caress her skin? Does she love my sense of humor and intellect? Does she really, really love me, as in... that kind of love?

Do I love her back? Certainly, I care for her and would feel unhappy if she found a reason to be displeased with me. I have always thought of her as little more than a friend, as far as emotions were concerned. But don't think I haven't noticed how sexy she is or how easy it is to be physically familiar with her, even though we haven't done anything naughty yet. I know that I like her hugs, which are different and more sensual than anyone else's I've had in years and years. And I truly, honestly and sincerely DO care for her. But love? As in love-love? Geez, I never really gave it any thought before. Should I start to do so now?

So I said, as I held her in my arms and looked into her eyes, "Thank you. That..." I leaned back while I still held her in my arms. "That... means a hell of a lot to me." I looked deeply into her eyes, unsure of what else I should say or what had just happened between us, if anything. There were so many other factors and people and things involved here.

Then she kissed my cheek softly and I kissed hers and she hugged me close again. This time I held a little more tightly and thoroughly enjoyed each brief second of our closeness. She's a belly dancer, almost ten years my junior, smart as hell, sexy, funny, cautious and decidedly female in all the delicious and fantastic ways a young woman can be utterly female. She smells nice and exudes... something... from every pore of her body and presence. She is intoxicating to hold in my arms, always has been and hopefully always(?) will be. That much I know for certain.

I thought to myself, It's been too long, buddy-boy. That's all. She's just being her warm, friendly self. She trusts and respects you. She's not hitting on you, just being nice because you're so nice to her and the people around you. That's all. She simply appreciates who you are. She's not in love with you. She just... loves you. Agape, not eros. I mean, dude, she can't be in love with you: you smoke and you don't dance and she has her policies about those things! I thought this even while we held our embrace in silence and felt each other breathing. I wanted to ask, to clear up the air about what had just been said. Those words are special words, where I come from, and people don't- I don't!- bandy them about lightly. I wanted clarity and elucidation, understanding. But there wasn't enough time.

I sensed the presence of others on the approach and relaxed my hold on her body as she let go of mine. "It truly was a pleasure to watch you dance tonight," I told her. "Seriously. I can't thank you enough for inviting me to the show. I really, really needed to get out and that was perfect."

She beamed beautifically at me and the compliment. "Thank you! I'm so happy you could come out, too. I'm really glad you were there."

I took a small step back, reached into my pocket and withdrew my cell phone, which is currently out of service. The timer on it read: 11:38 PM. I had made plans to meet a friend at the movie theater at midnight and didn't want to be late. I looked back up at her and smiled weakly. "I'm sorry I have to leave, but I really should go. I hope you have a wonderful time tonight and I hope you get some rest. Lord knows you've earned it. You really worked your ass off tonight."

She smiled demurely and nodded. "I know. Believe me, I know. You go on. I'll call you soon."

I smirked as I made to leave. As I approached the doorway, three other guests for the party entered, right on cue, and breezed past me with barely a nod of acknowledgement. Kids. "No, you won't," I corrected her without a backwards glance. "No one will. Not until I get my cell phone turned back on. But there's always email and Jessica has my address. If you want to get in touch with me, you know how." I turned to flash a smart-assed grin at her and found, much to my surprise, that she was directly behind me, right on my heels. "When Jessica gets back from the store please say goodbye for me."

"I will," she said. And I knew that she would. "Have a good time."

"You, too." She leaned in as I opened the door, as though she wanted to really kiss me this time. But I was already in motion and all I could offer her was a small smile and bright eyes. I could see the surprise on her face. A few weeks ago she'd offered me a kiss for my birthday, which I all-too-happily accepted, but now I was sorta-not giving in to temptation this time. For the first time in probably a long time a guy had actually refused her a kiss goodbye. Make no mistake: I really wanted to double back and kiss her goodbye, but something inside me said that to not kiss her would be better in the long run, that it would impress her more.

And a thought: Why, all of the sudden, are you concerned with impressing her? What the hell is going ON?

The door swung closed behind me and I got into my truck quickly. I decided that I would think about it later. Right then, I had a friend to meet and a movie to go see.

What the hell just happened?

I'm still trying to figure out what happened last night; I'm still trying to figure out how much of it I should describe, how many details I should put in, whether it should go in the Hyde Park node i'm working on. The participants didn't mind me writing in my notebook, but they were drunk, and one of the people was a shy nethead who'd only been in Oz three years... so he may go here, or a place like it, and I wouldn't want to upset him.

In my creative writing class, my teacher talked about 'Australian grunge lit'-- stories about teenagers doing nothing, having sex, doing drugs. I laughed at that, wondering why that would be important, how Australia could be 'sordid' at all. I still don't think 'grunge' is the right term, but spending Saturday night with a group of high schoolers in Ramones and Dead Kennedys shirts as they drink cheap alchohol from the bottle and have sex in a public park does change your perspective on things.

A writer ought to have experiances. There was nothing going on last night; i didn't have copies of the free music papers I read, and the bar near the uni was dead and boring. I took a bus into the city, figuring I'd walk until something happened. I know my way around Sydney; its a reasonably safe place. There's always bars and clubs open, if I could find them.

They were standing outside a bar, and they looked pretty cool. I asked them if there was a band playing nearby, I asked why they were dressed like punks (Converse All Stars, the afromentioned band shirts)-- it was like a uniform. They said there wasn't a band, they were too young to drink, they were heading to the park. I said 'I'm bored. I'm coming with'. They dubbed me Andy, after a boy they met last week.

(I am gettting to the point where I describe physically, and i'm not sure how much to tell. Ages? How hot one of the girls looked? Chance remarks have gotten me into trouble before; let us say that I did nothing illegal, as they had already bought the alchohol and any action did not involve me. And how did i become the older, wiser one? I'm 19, and the only reason I wasn't doing stuff like that with my friends was because I skipped off to a little bubble in the woods)

There was alcohol and sex, and it was horrendously important to the people involved. Started fun and random, ended on drama and tears-- though two, who were encouraging me in my writing, noted the events dispassionatly. As with all people i find, they were intelligent, beneath it all-- i was reminded a bit of the kids in Jon Katz's book 'Geeks'; they were losers but they were appealing; there was nothing else to do last night.

I'm daylogging this to organize it in my head; I'm romantasizing a night not spent home with Pixelships and porn (but it takes an odd sort of intelligence to want to do something, be somewhere). Hyde Park is beautiful; they shouldn't have done what they did. One got chased by a homosexual who hit on him after telling good stories; I still can't imagine Sydney being sordid; tommorow I will arrange this and make it interesting.

What am i missing? I forgot much of last night; i'm faced with the problem of seeing things; my mind has been warped by Ulysses and The Illuminatus! Trilogy; I could follow the guidelines of a similar mental state in the former novel, but I can't do it justice; the things twist upon themselves; am I glad nothing happened or annoyed? Was i there as a guy wanting to have fun or a writer wanting material he will not turn into anything good? Will i show up next Saturday?

(i'm dancing around the guilt from fucking up my final papers, dancing around the sense that i'm slim slow sliding my potential into oblivion; i'm already getting too old for some things; they are not my life, but they correspond with people i knew at the Bubble, none who I think are here; his pants were tottally off and he looked sad, though she was tottally hot, a teen wet dream fairytale in thigh high white boots, short skirt, and a tight sweater. She was out of it, drunk, his pants were tottally off and they were tottally doing it in the bushes; anybody could have seen but I don't think they did; Sydney isn't that sort of place; i've been here 9 months and already this city is choking in my memories of it)

This is the fifth time they have been careless with our money. The first FOUR times were the result of a customer in Phoenix walking into a bank making out a withdrawal slip that had the same account number save the last number. This person makes their fives look like eights and instead of the teller asking the customer who is standing right there in front of them what that number is --zip goes our money into a complete strangers hands. I told her I expected the bank to make compensations for any overdrafts, bounced check fees and a note in our credit report to explain their derelictions. The bank manager put a note on our account but after the FOURTH time she suggested that I close this account and open a new one.

What a pain! There were at least a dozen automatic withdrawals and two direct deposits had to be rerouted, but after the last SNAFU I was glad I went through the hours of filling out forms and following up with phone calls. Things get easily confusing for me at times like this and when the automatic withdrawal for car insurance didn't show up USAA called and helped me take care of it on line.

They also offer a small rebate every time we use our debit card and punch "credit" on the debit machine. Up to 15 bucks in rebates for ATM fees, free checks, free checking, free on line banking with unlimited Web Pay and when I asked if they would consider lower the APR on my MasterCard with them they cut it in half:)

This year my resolution is to restructure our finances. So far it's been a very successful. Here is what's been done so far:

• Set up a weekly EFT of 40 dollars into my savings account so every time the cars break down it doesn't wipe us out. Car repairs average around $300.00 because ours are so old and we can't afford a car payment plus insurance. When it reaches $2000.00, the cost of a new engine for my Mopar then I can start saving for tile.
• Anytime the credit card is used a check is written out of the checking account because it's already spent. The first few months it was a bit panicky until I realized the bill was already paid. It was simply a matter of voiding out the checks and writing one to pay it in full woo hoo!

1. Open up a free checking account.
2. Divide your monthly payment by 4.
   For example our five year home equity loan payment is $191.00
3. Set up a weekly electronic funds transfer that equals one fourth of the payment.
   In this case I rounded mine up to $48.00 and picked the day after payday so my bill was paid first.
4. Set up an monthly automatic payment with the institution that owns your debt.
5. DO NOT TOUCH IT! Leave the extra funds that build up in there from extra weeks in the months.
6. Make a payment to the principle loan with the extra funds at the end of the year.
7. If it's a mortgage or home equity loan deduct the interest off your taxes.
8. Viola! A five-year loan is paid off in two and a half to three years.

Now that Gen has all of her shots we began walking this week. Getting ready for walks has been very bittersweet. It reminds me so much of Kiki and Sam. Some of the neighbors have stopped us to ask about them. But once we get out there and start training it's all forgotten. Gen is doing fantastic! Yesterday one of the neighbors asked me if I would train his labs. She runs ahead and behind with her tail held high in such great joy only to find herself wrapped around a mailbox post. This week she figured out how to unwrap herself which is a good skill to have.

I've taken the neighbor's dog into the vet for heat exhaustion because she left him chained up to a post in the back yard. He got wrapped around it so tight he couldn't get in the shade. By the time I peeked over the wall to see what all the whining was about his body temperature was over 108 degrees F. Wrapping him in a wet towel and I raced him to the vet. My neighbor is new to the desert wasn't aware of how heat can be deadly she is also single and Baxter was her baby. We couldn't contact her to get permission to treat the woofie so I promised the vet that I would pay up to $100 dollars for her treatment.

It was kinda cool what the vet did with the pup. She had rigged up a clothes dryer with a stationary cage in it. Then they put the dog in there while the dryer blew cool air on Baxter until his temp came down then loaded him up with subcutaneous fluids. Dogs have a lot of loose skin between their shoulder blades so by the time my neighbor got there Baxter had this huge lump on his back. They were SO happy to see each other.

Gen is five months old now, close to 40 pounds, and tall enough to put her paws up on the counters to STEAL my potholders! While dinner burns we are playing keep away in the back yard. To stop that I put duct tape with the sticky side up along the edges of the counters because most doggies don't like the sticky sensation on their paws. After one of my dogs went through a plate glass window I used the same trick. It's also is useful to stop jumping up on doors.

Take care:)

Devotion