All in all, though, it's been fun and interesting. Each day is just 20 people hanging out. Weird, no? My brother, mom, and dad have all taken days off work. We go to sleep late, I wake up early. (Really, it's bad enough that I can be a very sensitive sleeper in general, but to put me on the floor or narrow and short sofa is a bit too much. I won't get my first full night of sleep until Sunday night.)

What have we, as a family, done? Stuff. Cousins joking around with each other, bickering about certain uncles and aunts. Little kids being annoying as hell, telling me to teach them to knit when I'm obviously in the middle of something else. Uncles and aunts being uncles and aunts. Movings being watched after midnight, sometimes aborted midway.

We had a graduation party last Sunday, in honor of me and my brother. It was outdoors. It rained a bit. And though a large tent was setup, it was still a bit of a hassle in general. Nothing disastrous, though.

The thing about this party is that it was basically a two-part program: the non-Bangladeshis came within the time specified on the invitation, and the Bangladeshis came towards the end of the ‘official’ time.

Participants of the first part congratulated me and wanted to know my tentative plans for the near future. Participants of the second part did not do that nearly as much.

Ah well. I got a nice amount of money, which I'm now calling my ‘Emergency DC Trip Fiasco Fund’, since both my trips there have met with generally high and unexpected expenses.

No, I haven't been to DC a second time, but I'm leaving Sunday morning (after initial plans to cancel the trip outright, with pre-paid, non-refundable ticket in hand). I have a job interview next week. Yay.

Many of us watched Fahrenheit 9/11 on Monday. For a movie on Monday, there was a good turnout. The movie itself was entertaining. A lot of the facts regarding Bush's and bin Laden's ties weren't new to me in general, though there were details and such that I didn't know before.

The most interesting part about the movie were the testimonials from people, and the images in general. A bit disgusting and sad, the whole situation is.

That's about it, really. There are a million minor details and nuances to the time spent with family, but details escape me, and things are just funnier in person. There are other things that are taking shape. Light will be shed on them when the time is appropriate.

I get to be with my love in four days. I can't wait! Separation is unbearable.

Over, peace, out.

Bodies strewn about the house. I have to do some work soon. I might try starting to get out of ‘bed’ (pick myself up off the floor) by 6 each morning? Drive someplace to work for a few hours. Then come back home when everyone else is up.

The momentum lost from not working for a few days is terrible.

I should record the type of advice I'm getting. Having family can be annoying. Stay strong. Don't let it get to me.

Nineteen people – including myself – will be staying at this house for one week. I have no privacy or quietness.

Someday I will buy or make a cool cage. One with a pull-out bottom.

She is a pooping machine. So are you. jk.

I like Gayranians, though. This I can't deny.

Who can hook up a talented programmer [and more] with a job in DC? Anyone? Anyone?

Between March and November of 2002 there are 15 message. The next message is from January of 2004, and then messages start to pour in from February to today. Around 650 all together. All spam.

Why the lull? I haven't checked that account in over a year, me thinks. Probably more than that.

I know, you're all wondering why I have an exciting and interesting life and you don't. I'm just lucky.

Duiti shadharon niyom royeche. Ek, kokhonoi nam bebohar korben na. Dui, kokhonoi [p]rerokderke ragaben na.

That, of course, is Bangla. The same message was put on an Iraqi family's door, except in conversational Arabic. Roughly translated, it means:

I really know how to take care of myself. Thanks.

I'd read about Bonnie Prince Charlie a few days ago. And a little Googling told me that he and his father were know as the ‘Young Pretender’ and ‘Old Pretender’, respectively. And there was some mention of a ‘true pretender’ in the pages I read yesterday. But I didn't get what that title meant.

In my dream last night, I was wondering why they were called ‘pretenders’. A voice told me it was because they were usurpers of a throne. Or at least tried to usurp power.

Of course, it was like ‘no shit’, right? It made sense, in a way. Because Bonnie Prince Charlie was fighting to reinstate the Stuart dynasty. (He failed, by the way.)

Looking up the definition of pretender today, I found out that a pretender is a claimant to a throne, as well as someone who imitates.

Hot damn.

Also, and not because of my subconscious, I think CAPUT LVIII is made in reverence, and contains some of the bones, of Mary Magdelene. Perhaps the book will explain whether my assumption is true.

And, if the Priory of Sion does infact protect a certain secret that would readily topple the Catholic Church, why have they been waiting for more than a millenium to come out publicly with it? There are many clear cases where the Church has backed down because of them.

Is there really something earth-shattering when Merovingians reclaim the throne of France? Has this long drawn-out revelation of bits and pieces of this great mystery been for the sole purpose of gathering money and power while denying that very purpose? Is this the epitome of human petiness?

Is the world not ready? It would make sense, because if these people could prove without a doubt that Jesus was mortal, it'd shatter the beliefs of a good several hundred million people claiming the Pope as their God on earth, among others.

Would this really usher a significant change for the future? In thought and spirituality and politics? All because Jesus has descendants? But their secrecy and actions seems morally suspect, if not now, then definitely in the past. Not something Jesus would do.

Ergh. What's going on?

I gotta piss.

More specifically, a kid named Justin Edward from high school. He was a bit of an asshole, but I had little to do with him in general. No grudges held.

Anyway, he was being so annoying, so I had no recourse but to start beating him up. It was tedious, too. He seemed to absorb a lot of hits.

I finally knocked him down and started walking away, but he got up and began to talk shit to me. Bad idea.

I went back to him and knocked him face down, then began shoving his face in the dirt several times. I walked away again, and he got up again. This time, he was upset.

I woke up feeling bad for him; it was very mean of me.

All this fighting took place by an enormous tree, either at its base or in the branches. This makes sense, because I had read, earlier in the day, about the ‘cutting of the elm’ in 1188, a strange event that symbolically cut the Knights Templar from the Ordre de Sion. No one [publicly] knows the details of why it happened. The only thing certain is that it involved the English and the French, and an old, enormous elm tree.

Holy Blood, Holy Grail is an addicting read so far. The Professional is a bit sad.

We watched four movies all together, which is a bit of an overload for me. Those movies were The Italian Job, The Chronicles of Riddick, Scary Movie 3, and You Got Served. All watchable movies.

There was also a special Rap City top 20 countdown of oldish videos (circa early-to-mid 90s) hosted by Ludacris. I was happy to see videos I hadn't seen in ages, especially Outkast's ‘Benz or Beamer’. Good times.

My grandma is here now. I feel like a little kid talking to her, because I can't for the life of me converse in Bangla. So the extent of us talking so far is simple question/answer. Sadly, this is the most communicative I've been with her in so long.

She'll be here for three weeks. I'll be here for over two. Things are bound to get better? This is the best progress I've made, after all. As far as I remember, anyway. And my memory ain't so great.

Many things to do. I'm sitting here doing nothing. Bleh. Post-graduation stress of some sort. Incubating unless I act on it now.

Either want a Benz or a Beamer.

But, we're picking up my grandma, so it works out in some way. I'll still hate the drive.

I hate Coke. I love you.

Tired of self. Hoping for sleep.

Sigh.

He's one of my most favorite rappers. I'd say top five. It's a shame that he wasn't able to put out music like he should've.

I'm not getting yoga. Or meditation.