May 13th, 2003

horny, Divine Oscillations

*snerk* Voicemail

...Perhaps, just perhaps, it would help to leave something resembling my name, or even identifying me as human, when I leave voicemail messages.

Ya think?
trust, best friends forever, snot-nosed brats

Testing: words vs. blows

I've often said that certain things said to me are like a blow to the stomach, and actually, I might prefer the physical punch.

Some time ago, while we were coding some SQL for my database class with the short-haired lady teacher, we tested this.

Darkside and I were in lab together, and I was coding a particularly hairy bit of SQL. I finally, finally got it to run.

It is probably worth noting at this point that it must have been N%, or proto-N%, out. N% is far less socialized than any of the others, even Marah. Given this, it would be no surprise to anyone except for the two principals, what followed.

It is probably also worth noting that Darkside and I have not ever dated, were not dating at the time, and have, to this date, still not dated. We have never had sex. We are only a couple in that I'd like us to be, and we seem to "feel" like a couple to anyone who watches us together. Darkside does not want to date me, is not attracted to me, and has told me so. We are, nonetheless, best friends.

Furthermore, Darkside is exceptionally withdrawn, physically. He barely tolerates hugs from me, and even then, he appreciates warning, and a chance to say yes, or tell me please, not now.

Also, he and I have the amusing habit of sparring with each other for fun, exchanging nerve pinches, smacks, punches, holds, and kicks.

The query ran. Finally. In spontaneous celebration, I threw my arms around the startled Darkside next to me, and planted a thoroughly uninvited kiss on his cheek. He socked me in the stomach, and huffed off (to give both of us a chance to cool off, as it developed).

Tears streaming from my eyes, I updated my journal a few times, and continued doggedly coding away. Darkside returned a while later, apologizing for his reaction, and I apologized for mine. He'd returned an unwelcome form of invasion of my personal space to me, as I'd given to him. There hadn't been any harsh words to complicate things, for me to dwell upon and poison my mind with. Action, reaction. I knew very simply where I stood in the matter. I had not injured him; he had not injured me.

He hadn't physically beaten me senseless, as Shawn had verbally beaten me. Words leave no bruises.
Santa Lucia, Ritual, _schools16931

(no subject)

This entry's still eerie. But that's what you get when you mix Duane and Lackey with an unhealthy dose of selfdestructiveness.
Azzcalm, Quiet

Day Off

Went to school. Burns is feeling better. Some kidding around about SARS yesterday (he could have sworn that he'd gotten it), and he'd cancelled his 8 and 9 AM classes yesterday because of voice loss, but was OK for us, his 10 AM... today we were the 9 AM. He remarked on this.

He coughed. Then Chris Roan or Adam [bald Adam] coughed. Burns commented that he didn't need to share with the whole class; it was bad enough that he, the teacher, was ill. (Of course, he was far more witty.)

Did I mention that I have skills with class clowning? Perfect opportunity, and the low-grade allergies are such that I can cough, with conviction, at any moment. COUGH!

Burns was amused.

Hung out in lab for a while. Nice fun. votania showed up with Little Fayoumis, and he sat next to me, drawing Gir, while I played with LJ. We went to class, and Sheldon stopped in and told us that our teacher was on her way. Yay Sheldon! It turned out that McGuirk was out today, so we got ... um. Her name still escapes me [yes, yes, I did see the escape character in my head at this point...] but she is the pretty, dark-haired one who Darkside got along with so well.

Little Fayoumis worked on his homework, then drew. He's surprisingly good at that, for a kid his age. It's fun watching a picture evolve. It's not a static moment in time; anyone who's watched kids do art can tell you that. It's a process. First, the initial situation, then things happen, then more things happen, and finally, it's a muddy, scribbled mess, a mess that won't say anything to anyone who doesn't have it explained to them.

We came home, and he constructed his lunch. Am trying to teach him the importance of not leaving tasks in an unstable state, such as not the following:

Get juice out of refrigerator, get cup.
Get stepstool to stand on.
Knock over umbrella getting stepstool.
Hang up umbrella.
See backpack on living room floor, where it oughtn't to be.
Hang up backpack.
Look about to wander off.
Get called back to task by Loony.
Pour juice.
Put away stepstool.
Put pitcher away in refrigerator.

...Ideally, he would have done this, and then put the backpack away. At least he's to the point of noticing that the backpack belongs hanging up on his own...

Tried calling Blondie. No answer. Left voicemail. Going to read some nice W*ber, now...
running, bomb tech


It shows up, quite often, as a ribbon cable. Or at least it used to. There were toggles on all the levels of that rainbow set of wires between us, so we could open or shut the flow of information back and forth at will, from both sides.

We had to keep it that way, while in school together. I could always feel them, one to each side of me. Shrimpy could see them, too. I wonder if he ever figured out that the astral figures he could see were my two best friends?

After a while...

He's got shields wrapped around me, now. I don't think he ever took them down. I have shields wrapped around him, too. And all up and down the left side of me, from head to toe, I can feel the warmth of him. It feels like the old connection is still there, but we barely use it anymore, because the new, the bleedover connection, is so very strong.

If I go up to the black level of the astral, one step up from my head, I can see the ribbon cable. Most people, I just have a very thin line connecting me to them. Him -- Does anyone remember those rainbow ribbon cables? The ones between the main board and the drives? It's one of those. Several of those. And it's evidently a secured connection, because when I tested, and had someone else, someone not-me, invited into me, and they touched the connection, they were booted. Severely. Not sure if they wound up with a headache or not.

The spillover from that is so warm. I've had the connection points, the actual connection points, toggled closed from my end for so long... I opened them just now.
trust, best friends forever, snot-nosed brats


Called Darkside. Talked for an hour. Let him know that my priestess-confessor wanted him to have her relevant info. Bonked on his head that he is my best friend, and he is trusted, because he does help me a lot. He did not sound like he believed me.

Told him that I would thwack him over the head repeatedly until he did believe me that he is my best friend and he does do good things for my mental state.
running, bomb tech

Fuck. Fuckin' fuck fuck. Or not.

Water brothers. Gotta love 'em.

Not happening.

And even though both of us know that a relationship would never work out, I'd been hoping, you know, to get some.