August 14th, 2001

running, bomb tech

Unrequited, and Almost enough sleep (not)

Neighbor dropped by to get the hell out of his apartment this evening. I had earlier quietly informed Sis about his crush on her (he knows damn well she's taken, and is currently in the process of smacking his head and saying "D'Oh!" regarding his own general common sense in having fallen for her) and cleared up all misunderstandings with her on that front, so that she groks the uncomfortable position he's in rather than thinking he's a perv who doesn't give a damn if someone's taken or not, which was what she was thinking at first.

Argh, but sometimes that woman will not hear anything that's not what she already thinks she's hearing, and we had to grab her by the shoulders and say "You listen to me now. He's not going to try anything. He knows you're taken, and it's not changing. He's not going to try to change it. He's in the process of being miserable and smacking himself on the forehead and saying 'D'oh! She's taken! I'm such an idiot!' and if you do anything to him to make him feel worse when he's already feeling this bad, I'm gonna have to hurt you."

This little dialog was inspired by the moment when ... well.

So Sis's computer is completely broken, and she has to call upon someone to fix it. Neighbor is a computer guru. She calls upon him. Yesterday evening, she announces her intention of stopping by his place to tell him such and such regarding the computer.

"Not in that shirt. Go change," I tell her.

General confusion on her part. It's a good shirt, a nice shirt, it looks good on her. That's the problem.

"He's got a crush on you," I say.

After initial disbelief, Sis goes into a long tirade about men never knowing when to quit and several elaborations on the concept "can't he see I'm taken," and many references to black candles.

It was at this point that I had to grab her by the shoulders and explain the concepts of "unrequited 'd'oh!' crush" and "unnecessary cruelty." Sure, she would have noticed nothing out of the ordinary had she gone over to Neighbor's place wearing the backless shirt that emphasized her breasts, but Neighbor would have noticed, and Neighbor would have, after she'd gone, probably had to smack his head into the wall a few times.

"Ok, ok, a sweatshirt it is," Sis said.

She went; she came back. Nothing happened. I was telling her in enthusiastic detail about my plans for Saturday when Neighbor showed up on our back porch. Sis made chocolate cake with plenty of chocolate chips and we watched Blade. I started dozing off but failed to capture Neighbor's shoulder by sneak attack. He's right: he really *is* slow when it comes to perception of "she is hitting on me". He eventually left; I eventually headed in to my room in anticipation of a few hours of sleep.

Dave was online when I got in. I pretty much fell asleep on him in the middle of the conversation, though, and woke up a while later and said a rather lengthy goodnight.

My sinuses are clogged and it makes me miserable. I reset my alarm for seven this morning, in hopes that an hour and a half of extra sleep would do good things for me.
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running, bomb tech

No breakfast, no sleep, no bonk.

I see Darkside across the computer lab. He looks very very busy. Neighbor, who is the Faculty Assistant for this lab, says that Darkside showed up in lab about half an hour late. This is unusual.

This is very unusual. Darkside is generally at school an hour and a half before the lab opens. Either he was also late, or he had a meeting with the other guys on his database project, or he was waiting in the cafeteria for me to show up, which I didn't until almost eight. Lab opens at seven.

I don't expect Darkside to be very friendly toward me today. I just ditched him for breakfast with no explanation.

Sorry, man.

...and he stops by my computer, looks over my shoulder very briefly, and makes a noise of general humorous dissatisfaction with me. Well, I was asleep. Would you rather that I be asleep at home in my bed where I belong, or asleep at school when you're trying to talk to me?
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    rejected rejected
running, bomb tech


That shirt that Sis ended up not wearing last night -- she's wearing it today.

Poor Neighbor.
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    amused amused
running, bomb tech

Head vs. Wall

Sis and I were hanging with Neighbor last night, and we were going through the Big Yellow Book (Golden Dawn material, serious thing to not drop on toe) and Neighbor got curious as to what element was most likely his primary.

Sis looked it up.


This was a severe d'oh moment for me...

It's still in progress. It's big, it's serious, and it's still in progress, and I'm almost afraid to screw around with it. But Sis and I started it; it's inherently part of me...

...may the rosebush continue to grow leaves and begin to bloom.
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    hopeful hopeful
running, bomb tech

Mutually Exclusive Options

Final Fantasy 9 and sex cannot/should not be done at the same time. OK? Neighbor is indeed visiting, and I am relatively alone with him, and will be almost entirely alone with him when Nephew goes down for his nap.

But it would be a supremely bad idea to mix Final Fantasy 9 with sex.
running, bomb tech

Pain and Suffering

The cold that's been threatening me for the past week has settled in the back of my throat and into the upper part of my lungs. This is not good. Coughing causes pain and suffering. I've been coughing a lot. My sinuses are not happy with me either.

Add to that the general desire to sleep, sleep, and sleep some more, and you pretty much have it.
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running, bomb tech

If I ever become a permanent traveler --

Two pairs of shorts; one pair of long pants.
Three complete sets of socks/underwear.
Three shirts.
Sturdy walking shoes.
Toothbrush, toothpaste, floss, mirror, comb, soap, towel, lip balm. Deodorant.
Multitool knife, including light source.
Ibuprofen, decongestant, drops for Swimmer's Ear.
Small first aid kit; elastic bandage.
Laptop computer with most of its devices integrated rather than external.
Blank permanent storage media of a type not prone to easy destruction a la electromagnetic/climatic/rough handling means.
Backup of all important programs on same type of permanent storage media.
Small screwdriver set.
Spare connection cables; spare batteries.
Water bottles.
Identification and currency.
Paper and pen.
Spare glasses.
A feather, a telescoping metal antenna, a cup, a small wooden plate.
A lighter.
A few pretty rocks.
A book.

A space in which to permanently store nifty items I might acquire. My hair would be kept shorn short; I would opt for glasses rather than contact lenses. Glasses may fall off and be broken; contact lenses must be cleaned and removed and replaced and not worn all night.

Every now and then I experience a yearning to leave it all behind, to set out on my own through the world.

Now is not quite yet the time, but I must be prepared to fly when that time does come.
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    indescribable indescribable