August 9th, 2001

running, bomb tech

Got a short little span of attention now

Trying to code. Failing, sort of.

Once I get one miniproject done in the instruction booklet, I have to let my brain take a breather. Go talk to Neighbor (he's in charge of this computer lab). Go randomly walk past Darkside's classroom so I can see his legs through the window. Remember that I didn't really get breakfast and get something with too much sugar. (that's a good idea, come to think of it... and I haven't done that one yet.) Visit the bathroom. Brush my hair. Check my e-mail. Read what my friends are up to.

But I'm slowly but surely jamming my way through this thing.

I'm going to make it.

Attention span and all.
  • Current Music
    a semiconscious computer lab
running, bomb tech

Azure's Evil Calculator of Doom!

Well, I'm having fun.

Darkside: "You do realize that if you had put half the time you spent making it look like that* into doing the actual work, you'd have been done twenty minutes ago."

Sis: "Rock on! I want a copy! I can't wait to learn this shit now!"

*That: red, dark red, black, scary fonts, evil laughter, the words "Prepare to meet your Doom..." appearing on the place where the number will print out when you click there... and so on...

I'm having fun.
  • Current Music
    Babble of computer lab
running, bomb tech

No, please *don't*.

I am sick unto death of stupid computer things today. Windows asks me, every time I hop on a new machine, if I would like Windows to remember this password for me?


No thank you at all.

Each and every time I log into a computer on this campus.

It isn't possible for them to save my becursed preferences? "Don't ask me this again"??

Yahoo Mail has a very irritating ad banner that stamps the top of your screen with "Past Due Past Due Past Due" in red and then writes "We can help!" below that.

It doesn't go away when you click on a link and the ad banner changes. You've got to minimize and then restore the window to get rid of the ugliness.

People can be so gods-damned tacky.
  • Current Mood
    bitchy bitchy
running, bomb tech

E.T., Call Home

Today at work I dialed, by chance, someone in my hometown. (907) 456-****. Don't know who it was; can't remember the last of the number.

I almost cried.

I'm homesick, dammit. I want some cold weather. I need more wind. I need cold rain.

I need to hug my mommy and daddy.