October 10th, 2003

running, bomb tech

Rough Day at the Temple

Well, B, my roommatesister votania's car, is having problems.

"Problems", in this case, includes all the contents of the radiator deciding to spurt out while she was headed to work.

She made it to work.

She'll be home any minute now, with the car in quite literal tow. She shan't be getting much sleep tonight. *worries*
high energy magic

More things said in the witchy household...

"...the rune for 'fucktard'..."

Generally, those who write in runic and those who use the word 'fucktard' are mutually exclusive groups.


There are a few, though notable, exceptions.
running, bomb tech

*sigh* Rainy day...

It's a nice, cool, grey, rainy day. I got royally soaked on the way to school, not from the rain falling from the sky, but from the streets being filled with water, and getting splashed, therefore, by cars.

I didn't get as soaked as I could have, because I had an umbrella, and the wit to hold it between me and the street, rather than between me and the sky.

Sandstrom's class was entertaining. We've been working on security policies, as a wrap-up for the class, and after we finished up today, he told us that any of us in want of some computer humor, who didn't mind some bad language, should do a search on BOFH. Snerked to him that I'd given my girlfriend some links just this weekend. I was wearing my black "White Hat" hat today.

Cool days often bring out a touch of the meloncholy if I don't have something actively cheerful going on. (If there's something going on that I'm happy about, I love cool days, because then I don't overheat.)

Right now, what I'd like is some snuggles. And not from a cat. Cat-snuggles are nice and warm and fuzzy (and tickly and noisy, too!) ... but they're just not the real thing.

I'd probably get more snuggles if I'd relax my standards about who's allowed to snuggle me, but that's something I just can't do. I am certain that people would volunteer to snuggle me, and I know that some of the offers I would accept, and some of the offers, I am sure I would not. In order to snuggle properly with someone, I have to be either comfortable with them touching me in possibly not-work-safe ways ... or else sure that they would not ... and in either case, would stop if asked.

And 'net hugs are sometimes a little chilly.

Ah well. 14 more days.
running, bomb tech

Party games, inclusion

I'd known by age 5 that I was The One who was Not Included. There was this little incident with the counting fruit at Montessori, you see...

I wound up realizing, after some time, that Mama's party games were always more fun, and far more inclusive, than other people's. Mama had pinata-whacking. Ginger's mom had us play "The Farmer in the Dell" (which is, of course, something involving most of the kids sitting part of it out, and "the cheese" wasn't very pleased about standing alone, either). Mama had us fishing for treats in a frog pond (the trampoline, draped with blue fabric, with paper lily pads glued on one side of a metal juice-lid, and a treat taped to the other side). Ginger's mom had us playing Musical Chairs. Mama and Woodcarving Aunt had us going on adventure-style treasure quests, with plenty of loot for everyone at the end.

I'm becoming certain that chief among the reasons that some kids are such utterly selfish and cruel brats is because they're encouraged to it. Kids are just being kids, and it can be let slide.

They should have come down on my ass the first time they saw us taunting poor Lillian in elementary school. The poor girl was cursed with early development, and had cleavage in the fifth grade. The sixth grade teacher got me but good, and that shut me down (somewhat resentfully, but still I stopped). She'd moved out of the district before we realized what appalling bitches we'd been.
running, bomb tech

Bus Encounter

There was a Shrimpy on the bus. Shrimpy is a former classmate of my best friend Darkside's; sadly, they happen to have been issued the same first name. This led to some unfortunate scenes, similar to the recriminations of computers when they discover that they have been issued the same IP address.
"We don't want this guy in our group! He sucks, and furthermore, he's an ass!"

"Um, I'd be insulted if that didn't describe the other guy so very well. You say you CCed that to the Dean?"

"Oh, we thought you were the other guy. Our bad. Glad to have you on board!"
Shrimpy wasn't very well-admired by anyone, and he and Darkside were near-unto mortal enemies, which was a shame, as Shrimpy thought that he and Darkside were best friends.

Shrimpy had just come back from seeing a zombie movie when I encountered him on the northbound 19. He was getting all enthusiastic about it. "We could be in a movie like that! You'd be the chick with the black magic, and I'd be the guy with the sword."

"I have an idea. I could be the chick with the magic, Darkside could be the guy with the sword, and you could be the guy who gets killed in the first scene."

That didn't go over so well.

"I never can remember your name."

"The one who didn't hit you over the head quite so much."


"Well, I might as well remedy that..." *SMACK*

He lives on Glendale now. "Great neighborhood," I said, with sarcasm so palpable that Shrimpy picked up on it.

"Aww, it's not that bad," he said. "I don't mind as long as the drug dealers are doing their deals around the corner and not bothering me."
running, bomb tech


...how long would it take an item to travel about 350 miles by US mail? Standard, not air.
running, bomb tech

Written but unsent


I get the point that you're busy and I'm not your #1 priority.

Want me to go home with my toys now?

  • Current Mood
    crushed crushed
running, bomb tech


I did get the schedule I wanted. Yay! All morning classes!
running, bomb tech

Chat logs

I save my chat logs on private on LJ, because it's where I am often enough that it's a convenient place to save them for me.

I save them primarily because things that don't get written up in actual journal entries get mentioned there. I said not very many things about my actual life in my actual journal, back in 1996. wibbble thinks I'm cryptic now; I'm relatively plain as compared to then. He said something about his eye icons; I said that yes, indeed, to the point where the thing with the thing and the nail polish worked.

Had this been 1996, I would have said something along the lines of, "the thing similar to the thing where the thing with the birds happened", that, of course, being a literary reference sufficiently obscure that only someone who had been monitoring my reading habits would know the source literature, and only someone familiar with my logic process and strongest associations would see the similarity.

For example, my DeVry login password can be figured out by a four-hop Loony-logic process, from the keywords "mica" and "magician". Four hops to each, mind, and one's a checksum as well.

Far easier for me to just post chat logs on private, so I can look back and remember what I actually said about my internal states, rather than what I coded.

I've taken to putting a brief description of each interaction in the subject, to save myself time when scanning through the subjects in month view. Recent examples include: iroshi likes Dagger's snark. sithjawa is easily distracted. [F2M friend] is now a man.

I amuse myself.