August 1st, 2003

running, bomb tech

Self-indulgence, healthy...

Decided to organize some of the infernal tangle of geeky bits, which had been contained, ass-over-teakettle, in a series of boxes and ice-cream buckets.

Employed some of the empty plastic buckets one gets from items such as dish soap, laundry detergent, and kitty litter, and voila! Now there is a bucket labeled "Absolut Corruption" (holding power cords of varying types, one laptop battery, and one-to-many outlet adapters), another marked "Disco. No Mosh." (mice, one of them covered in rhinestones [our cat shammash is routinely called 'Mash, pronounced "mosh"]), and yet another with the legend "Speak Now or 4eva Hold Yo' Peace" (speakers, phone bits).

As if that weren't enough, most of the writing's in runes.

I plan to make a sub-container of the Absolut Corruption bucket, marked "AC [lightningbolt] DC" for the wall-wart plugs. "Good Ol' Boys" will eventually hold networking assortment. "Action" will probably hold nightlights, funky-colored bulbs, and webcams, unless I think of a cooler name for it.
running, bomb tech


Dear Punning Function,

Please stop thinking about things involving GNU vs. OLE and how that can be worked into a really horrid groaner at this hour of the night.

The One Who Needs Sleep, Dammit
running, bomb tech


The old phrase about sailors, "a girl in every port", takes on new meaning with hackers...
running, bomb tech

Not dead, just busy.

This morning, I woke up reluctantly from good dreams, then showered and French-(oh excuuuuuuuuse me, I mean "Freedom")-braided votania's hair for her first day as a Real Grownup Management Type. Then I snagged a ride to class from her, as I was nearly screamingly late.

Class was, well, class. I had a delightful time learning, and Sandstrom went into the finer details of how things work. I was evidently right to have been suspicious when a certain former friend and gray hat hacker suggested assigning a certain nonroutable address to poor old Enki, as there are Things [unspecified] that Can Be Done with that information. Just like I'm not always happy about giving out my current OS details, which I was perfectly justified about feeling.

So that was that. I returned The Hobbit to the library, and got out Narcissus in Chains. Then I came home and Things Were Good.

Am now embarking upon that whole thing where I clean/do laundry/etc. redshoeson and I will be hanging out later.
running, bomb tech


Now, that was ... unique.

I was carrying my laundry back from the laundry room, and there was this chick with dark hair at 116, and the comments "That's a big ass" and "Moooo!" were heard.

I, not exactly happy, took the laundry home and returned, and knocked. Loudly. The father of one of the teens showed (he lived across the way) and the girls were brought out and a slight clearing up of the little misunderstanding was had.

From the chicks' side of it, the one that wasn't his daughter had said hey and whistled, thinking I was a friend. From my side of it, the "big ass" and "moo" comments had been made. Rather than seeking further inquiry, I was content to admonish the chicks to try and make sure it's someone they actually know before making off-color comments. Shook hands with the dad.
running, bomb tech

*whewh* Household cleaning

Decided to do the catboxes after I did my laundry. Because hey, Lammas, making sure everybody's ready to enjoy the harvest...

Cleaning shammash's catbox led to the revelation that hey, the kitchen hall closet was in sorry shape. So, I shuffled things around there, and that reminded me that hey, the spare bucket of dish detergent should go under <cue scary music> the sink </music> and therefore, under the sink was likewise cleaned.

marxdarx had put away dishes earlier: yay!

I found a lovely glass cake plate under there. Coolness. I, feeling far too much like my mother, wrapped it in a small pink towel with lace on it and stuck it in the cupboard above the refrigerator. (at home, the Ceremonial Glass Cake Plate is wrapped in a yellow towel in the top of a cupboard). Some of the stuff under the sink headed trashwards, and some just got organized better. Still and all, that metal pan, the one that's rusted, with all the glass jars in it? That's going to get tossed as soon as the jars can be better-organized.

Also, it's time to start saving and washing glass jars again, because we're almost all out of jars to collect cooking grease in before it's thrown out.

Net effect: kitchen that is feeling much happier.

We should probably go through the saucers and throw out the chipped ones. We have enough.

Also, my homework got done in a timely fashion, and the URL shipped off to Sandstrom before five. Additionally, I picked up the package from the office, and it was what I thought I should be. Note to self: 5mm is more like it. Remember this next time. Ah well, it's all good. There's something that is golden with shinies that I think should be allocated elsewhere *giggle* for obvious reasons. Well, obvious to me, anyway.

Probably time to start cleaning up and getting ready for redshoeson to come by.
running, bomb tech


He doesn't like eating his vegetables because it "takes forever". Um, honey? That's because you eat them slooooowly. If you ate them fast, or even at something approaching a normal human speed, you'd have been three times done by now.

...And the two-parent simultaneous "You. Sit. Down. Now." is very fun to do. ...Well. Fun in terms of synchronization/coordination/cooperation. Not fun in terms of "Gods, why does he make us do this?"
Azzgrin, Azure: Lunatic, crazy

Reorganization of the day

Not going out after all; redshoeson had some Family Time come up, so she's doing that instead, which is how the priorities get stacked, yep. (It's just how it works.)

So, probably more housecleaning. Glad I called before I got all worried and stuff.

We rescheduled for next Friday in the afternoon. Yay!

Tried calling iroshi, starbrow, mcredneck, etc.'s party, to say hello (telepresent if not there in the flesh, eh?) but got the busy signal. Will try a bit later.
  • Current Music
    ...and just a bit jittery from all the tzoda-shwe
running, bomb tech


So, I have quite a few black shirts, long-sleeved, all blank.

I have some white fabric paint.

I just lack excellent and geeky ideas for what to write on the shirts. Guys?
Azzgrin, Azure: Lunatic, crazy

Slow death...

...I made the OSI Model Drink, with only a few substitutions.

I did not make much of it, so there is maybe a shot and a half, or two shots tops, of liquor in my glass. It does not layer well; I need to go and make something that actually does, one of these days.

I'll see how I survive this.
  • Current Music
    ...but not drunk yet
running, bomb tech

Drinking it...

marxdarx got to look at the thing before I started. It's burgundy-colored, and it stripped a layer of nose off when he sniffed it. I think it's the tequila.

Hmm. Interesting taste. It sort of colonizes the tongue, with advance scouts, and then rapidly deploys to the entire mouth. Tequila is definitely prominent. I can feel the tipsiness starting. Note that this is on top of a large glass of vanilla coke, which is making my body jitterish, as I'm not accustomed to caffiene.
running, bomb tech

thoughts on rahtermuch wine (or equiv)

called up the party . had much fun. ro's fun. good party. wish we where there.

forgot whatr was goninag to sahyh.

I think it was about my beautiful dearest love. And the whole dom thing. i think dagger could dom him, eh? but htat wasn't it. Oh! when dagger was out she noticed i thought it was weird being Shanna. Long time that I was saying shut up shanna all the time. but now she's me too.. Because I was joanprime and I was shanna and we're both 'Ni now. Yay!

And shanna was par tof dagger too. and laughing hawk all went in dagger. and azz went into me. is why doin't really think of azz as my name. that was azz. I'm ... 'ni. Joanie. But they call me 'ni inside.

Except there isn't much inside unless we take it outside. It doesn't transact in words, only when we have to do this for the other humans.

Good stew.
  • Current Mood
    drunk drunk