August 9th, 2002

running, bomb tech

Note to self:

One pint of ice-cream exceeds your limit, young lady. Not from a sugar viewpoint, either.

Consequently, I missed English class.
running, bomb tech

Narcissa

Called my sister last night. Told her about the latest amusing interactions with Darkside. Somehow, I'm the person who's finding it the most amusing that Darkside, either quasi-accidentally or on purpose, stuck his thumb up my nose. Knowing me, knowing him, having been his friend for so long, I think it's hysterical.

Narcissa has completely flipped her lid over River. It's amusing to listen to, and would be scary if I didn't trust River so completely. We both get to see fairies when we look out our window. Hers are the kind that kiss each other, though. As River attends most of the gay pride events in the area while she's at work, he comes off as the most gorgeous gaiboi, which is amusing to all concerned.

I don't think Mama's figured out that Narcissa likes girls too yet. She'd flip.

Explained to Narcissa the situation with Darkside. After teasing me about Darkside's name (I fell in love with one guy of his given name in high school, which is not so bad as my other name collection habits; around here, there is only the president of the anime club and Shrimpy [who hasn't been seen in a while] of that name), she listened to what I had to say about him, and liked him. I think the fact that he's a gamer who likes anime and isn't treating me like shit would have quite a bit to do with Narcissa's opinion of him. Plus, my parents liked him.

I have an excellent little sister.
running, bomb tech

Morning

Darkside keeps mistaking "tired" for "unhappy". I suppose the two do look similar on me, but perhaps quite not quite that much so. He was working on a game this morning; there was a minimum of roughhousing.

I really would like hugs, though.
running, bomb tech

AYDBABTM

...working on Database homework. I hate populating the damn things. Now I see what Darkside means when he starts bitching about them. I should create myself some nice test files for future DB creation.

Oy vey. I don't like data entry, I've decided, at least not from sheets of tables that hurt my eyes when I try to pick out what's what, and when it's stuff that I can't type mile-a-minute fast. I was clocked at 69 WAM at work when they tested me, after they adjusted for errors. I got a little cute rubber thingy for being the fastest one in the training class. Since then, I haven't been speed-typing half as much.
running, bomb tech

Out:

Going to get lunch with Dawn and Neighbor today. Should be fun. Will be hitting the Mongolian Barbecue by Metro. Mmmm. Delicious-making. Have only been there the once before, with BJ, when he and I were together.
running, bomb tech

Cyclical Names

I collect Daves. (Just at this moment, one of the guys from Student Services, David Handler, just walked through, and waved at me.) I know a hell of a lot of Daves. I really should sit down and list all of them someday.

I used to collect Joshes; I knew that the name David meant trouble. (I'd only known a few of them at this point.) I just knew too many guys named Josh. There were the twins, Josh and Jeremy; there was the cute one, the bad driver, the twit/flirt... those are the ones I can remember off the top of my head now.

Narcissa seems to think that I collect guys of Darkside's name. Really, I don't. There was the one I was in love with my freshman year of high school, there was the one in some of my classes my junior year who my ex had a thing for (Narcissa told me this after the fact), and only now do I see an explosion of them around the school here. Darkside's class group had about four of them, including him and Shrimpy; there's one in some of my classes with the same name as Shrimpy (last name ending with a z rather than an s, but still the same), and then there's the president of the anime club. Nevertheless, since I was so deeply in love with Riccochet the Super-Nerd, and since I'm so head-over-heels in love with Darkside, Narcissa sees me as having a thing for guys with that name.

Ginger sees me as having a thing for guys with one-syllable names. Jay. Ty. Josh. Shawn. I've started upgrading to two-syllable guys since then: BJ, River, Super-Nerd, Bryan, Darkside. Ginger would get a kick out of my Dave collection. Perhaps I should write to her.
running, bomb tech

What do I need in a relationship?

I need to be loved, first of all. I've been in too many relationships where the other party cared nothing for me, just what I could give him. (Yes, him. Both my relationships with girls were at least slightly more functional.) Shawn kept me for sex, self-esteem, and social status.

I need someone with a sense of humor and a sense of silliness. Someone I can't play with, can't laugh at bad puns with, can't engage in physical humor with, isn't someone I wish to spend a majority of my life with.

I need tenderness and romanticism. I would occasionally like flowers. I want someone who will hold my hand at any time just for the connection. I would like someone who will remember my birthday without needing to be prompted, when I forget it. I would like someone who will surprise me with romantic gestures, like remembering which shirt of his or hers is my favorite, and making a point of wearing it if we're going out, or spending some quality time together. I want someone who will remember little in-jokes we have and keep referring to them, someone who will rearrange my hair out of my face for me.

I need sex. I am human. Someone who puts me on a pedestal as some sort of untouchable goddess is not what I want. I want someone who will initiate sex some of the time, if I haven't gotten around to realizing that I want that tonight. I want someone who doesn't require constant sex, either, someone who will be willing to put the way I'm feeling above their horniness (and if they're that horny and I'm not, I'm sure we'll be able to work out some form of compromise). I don't want someone who will get jealous of my collection of sex toys. They're fun, yes, but they're toys. They don't snuggle.
running, bomb tech

Blah?

ralmathon and I just had an entire conversation, all using the word "Blah". I was talking about his job; he was just making noise. The amusing part came at the end, when I said, in blah, "I wonder what we were just talking about." "I have no idea what we were just talking about", he responded in English, not knowing what I'd just said.

This is the kind of silliness I love.
running, bomb tech

Hiccups

Hiccups while filling in database information, or indeed any time, are not particularly fun.

Usually, I just wait mine out. Today I think I'm going to attempt some muscle-relaxing fun, which has not yet worked.
running, bomb tech

Whee!

I am done with filling out my tables for the DB lab. On the other side of things, I still have hiccups, this guy was asking me stuff about my db lab while I was doing it, and he had smoker's breath.

I wish people wouldn't talk to me when I was busy *and* had hiccups, especially if they stink.
running, bomb tech

Essay: "Ritalin" (backdated

Joan Laurel [last name]
2002 August 09
English 135 Ms. Kilbridge

Ritalin

From the 1980's on, there have been a rising number of increasingly younger children diagnosed with Attention Deficit Disorder/Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD). The standard treatment is the prescription of certain strong stimulants, such as Ritalin and Dexedrine, to allow the children to calm and focus themselves. With this information, we have to ask a few questions. Why are so many young children being given these dangerous drugs? Where did these huge numbers of ADHD children come from? What are the side effects of the medication, and how do the benefits outweigh the dangers? ADHD is being misdiagnosed in young children, and, if correctly diagnosed, overmedicated.
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running, bomb tech

Homestyle Barbecue

Dawn and Neighbor and I hit JC's, the Mongolian Barbecue place in one of the Metro annexes. Mmm, I've missed home cooking.

My father used to work at UAF, in the Geophysical Institute, with the rocket scientists* studying the Aurora Borealis.

(*Yes, literally rocket scientists. Other people could say that jokingly about their parents' co-workers, but I could say that literally. Too bad I never thought of that joke until my father had retired...)

At one point, there was a large influx of Chinese graduate students into UAF, especially into FatherSir's building. Being the naturally outgoing*, friendly, hospitable person he is, FatherSir started to learn to speak Chinese to get to know the new guys better, and make them feel more at home. This led to much cultural exchange, with FatherSir learning some of the intricacies of proper Chinese cooking. Resultantly, I am the proud reproducer of my father's teriyaki sauce, which is always a big hit around the house, though it lacks something of the original; also, it is not mashed potatoes and gravy that make my mouth remember home cooking, it is stir-fried beef with special sauce, thin-sliced carrots and green onions, hot rice, egg drop soup...

(*My mother has always thought of my father as shy, and has described him to us children as such, but her perspective is skewed. He has always been outgoing, and was only shy when meeting her because he'd identified her as The One, and was courting her carefully so as not to scare her away.)

It's interesting, eating lunch with friends, knowing that I'm tasting good old home cooking, while they're having an exotic foreign meal.