3/12/98 --  The intrigue thickens.   This morning I thought I heard my pager go off; I figured I was dreaming and went back to sleep.  But when I woke up, I checked it to make sure, and found an unseen page there.  Unfortunately, who ever entered it also included a "1" before the area code, and my pager display cuts off the numbers, so I got this 13 102-0887.  Now that means that some called from 310-208-87XX -- I don't know the last two digits!  I don't recognize the page, so I have no idea who the hell it was from.  The 208 prefix is from somewhere here in Westwood, though.  I woke up and paged my self "420" to make sure that my pager works and that I wasn't freaking out some more.  A minute later I got "420".  So I have no idea if my pager is working consistently or not.  I also have no idea who the hell paged me.  Probably some fine ass chick who wanted to get nasty wit' me!  Oh man, God hates me!!  Why do you torture me so?       Last nite after I left here, I called Maya's place, but she wasn't home, only her roommate Jenny.  I wanted to avoid seeing Ban, b/c I was afraid he might wanna talk to me about being put on the lease.  So I walked down to the market, bought 12 bottles o' Samuel Adams White Ale, and then marched my ass with the box up to Maya's place.  This is not a short jaunt, I assure you.  It's uphill, maybe 3/4 of a mile.  With a box of beer.       So I got there, drank my beer, and whined to Jenny and Maya (who had gotten home when I got there) about my life and how it was falling apart.  They both urged me not to get put on the lease, but also to talk to the manager about the January rent and the Stephan situation.  His Kiwi ass screwed us, we figure.  They also urged me to threaten Stephan over the phone (whose service I won't have much longer), and to talk to my mom.  Talking to her about not cutting me off isn't a bad idea, but I know I'm going to sound like a stupid fucking clod to her.  She's a total cynical know-it-all.  But Maya and Jenny both said that moms never cut their kids off.   Hmm...I'm also gonna talk to Ray and Dave, and see what they have to say.       Ugh, I have to go see the Full Monty tonite with stupid people from the library, and have dinner before hand.  Double Ugh.  I'd much rather have seen Good Will Hunting, but I blew that off.  This is my punishment.  I hate English people, and don't wanna see a movie about them.  Except for The Lion in Winter.  That was hella good.  They always wanna see comedies or lame feel-good crap.  Not that Good Will Hunting was lame, but nothing good, like Twilight, which is what I really wanna see.       Winston (an ole chum and brief roommate) e-mailed me; I haven't really talked to him in nearly a year, since Phil and he had a falling out.  Now I can't e-mail him back b/c my fucking e-mail is still out.  I can't give him my pager number b/c I don't know if it works, and I don't wanna give him my phone number b/c I don't know if it's going to work for much longer, or if I'll even be there. So now he's probably figuring I'm ignoring him.  Shit!!!       My life is falling apart at an astounding rate.  Gotta go get a life preserver.  My instincts are telling me to bail the fuck outta my apartment this weekend.  I don't know to where, though.  AND the goddamned elevator has been out of service all week.  Still, I imagine GOD flashing a big sign in front of me -- GET OUT.  I should take a hint or six and do just that.   Sorry Ban, but it's high time Haole looks out for numero uno.