December 15th, 2003

running, bomb tech

Lesbian flirtation

Evidently, in San Fransisco, there are classes for women on flirting, given by women. This is evidently for the education of those women wishing to flirt with other women.

running, bomb tech


Have been unable so far to purchase tickets online. Bah. Am grumpy and no little worried on this front. Bah.
trust, best friends forever, snot-nosed brats

...just reminded how much it hurts...

I haven't seen Darkside in person and alone and coherent enough to have a decent conversation since February.


This man is my best friend, and I've barely seen him, let alone been alone with him, since February. My trip to see him in February involved five hours of solo travel time, two hours seeing him with his parents present in the other room, and not quite an hour driving with him and changing a tire. Before that, it had been since October 2002 that I'd gotten any alone-time with him.

He graduated from phx_devry in October 2002. I saw him at his graduation at the end of October, our Halloween party at the end of October, and for a few hours near Solstice in December. The Halloween party was crowded, and Little Fayoumis was all over him in December. I went to see him in February, and I was desperate to spend time with him. votania took us all on a group trip to see him in June just after his birthday. A few precious and uncomfortable seconds alone. He came over for our Halloween party this October. No chance to talk, and when we were finally alone, I was walking dead and he was tired too.

That adds up to a generous total of fourteen hours that I've seen him in the past thirteen and a half months. I became accustomed to seeing him for five to ten hours a week, while we were at school together.

I miss him.

He's not always reliable and there for me in media other than spoken, face-to-face. He never learned how friendship was supposed to be conducted; he never got the bone-deep reflexive knowledge. But, one-on-one, without distracting games or other people around, I can feel how much he does care for me. The fact that he allows me to stay in contact with him, the fact that he will stay on the phone with me, the fact that he doesn't mind spending time with me... his reserve is greater than Ekaterin's, and twice as grouchy as Dr. McCoy on a bad day.

He grouches, grumbles, growls, grouses, gripes, and grinches. He snarls, snarks, sneers, snipes. He hisses and snaps and can pay an awesome resemblance to Snape on a bad day, despite looking like a 25-year-old Draco Malfoy (as played by Tom Felton). To colleagues and co-workers, he's cold, cutting, short-tempered, sarcastic, distant, and has described himself as "the grouch from hell," and suggests that no one human spend any time with him when he's tired, especially after work.

To me, he is kind, caring, courteous, occasionally courtly, gentle, and gentlemanly. He's sweet. When he inevitably steps on my toes and shoves his thumb up my nose, he didn't mean to, and is willing to learn how to try and not repeat that. I don't get the same man that everyone else at school got, with a few rare exceptions. I know him better now than anyone else he knows from college, ex-girlfriend included.

We've learned each other so well, in person, that sometimes it's feeling like we're not communicating in the same reality-space as the rest of the world. I can look at him and see insecurity and bone-deep hurt. Someone else can look at him at the same moment and see a young man conversing casually. I can look at him and see abject terror. A classmate can look at him at the same moment as see him cool, calm, professional, and all there. It turned out to be utter terror.

BJ used to pride himself that he could drag any piece of information that I was concealing from him out of me eventually.

I delight in my friendship with Darkside in part because if I am concealing any piece of information from myself, Darkside will eventually uncover it, and does not insist on hearing it as long as I know what it is.
  • Current Mood
    lonely lonely
Azzcalm, Quiet

Men with beards

Whenever I come across a man with a full, bushy beard, the kind that's rounded on the end, and not straggly and pointed and trailing off, I'm reminded of my father.

It doesn't matter if the details of the face behind the beard are different. It doesn't matter about the skin color. Hair color doesn't matter, much, as long as some of it's going grey. Some deep part of me says, This man looks like my father.

In the photos of Saddam Hussein, after he was captured from his hideout, before he was shaved, he looked like my father.
  • Current Mood
running, bomb tech

Ow, feet.

Swollen again. I guess this is upcoming on BWW. Bah.
running, bomb tech


"I'll pay you back." Pause, pause. "With money."

Lunatic laughs for a good several minutes, almost as hard as at the squirrel/motorcycle story.

10 minutes.
running, bomb tech

Home again, home again...

Called Darkside this morning, and cursed all things AOL with him as amused witness. "I couldn't get the stupid thing to work to get me the stupid tickets!" I finally ranted. "Did you think of going down to the stupid theatre in stupid person?" he wanted to know. I explained that this was the next step, and I was frustrated and wanted tickets, because it would sort of defeat the entire purpose of going together if one of us didn't have a ticket. Then I asked if he had his ticket already, or if I should pick one up for him as well.

He asked if I would please do that, as he wouldn't be on this side of town for a while. He told me that he would really appreciate it, and he would pay me back. He paused for the requisite three seconds, and then added, "With money."

What else could I do? I burst out laughing, and continued laughing for quite some time, almost as much as I'd laughed over the squirrel vs. motorcyclist story. Darkside's a fitting foil for Shanna-who-was. When I finally stopped laughing, he started counting. "Three... two ..." I started laughing again.

We spent about ten minutes on the phone. I was grinning all through class.

Class was fun. We were talking about remote access, and what it is good for. Bruyn showed us a website with a product for the Red Hat box, and I guess I'll be having fun downloading that while I'm hacking at the perl script from last lab. Bruyn says this lab "should be a cakewalk."

Since Bruyn is a sadistic old hacker, a sadistic old *nix hacker and DB admin, I'm skeptical. He only lacks the homicidal streak and the PFY to be a BOfH.

The GSU meeting this week was cancelled in favor of the class group potlucks. Fun. I went with Mr. Prez, and he proceeded to argue with me about the date status of the appointment I have for Wednesday. I say it isn't. He says it is. I insisted that it wasn't. He said that it was so. I insisted that it totally was not. He called in a group of experts, and they proclaimed it a date. I stomped my foot. The experts asked who all was going. I said it was just the two of us. They nodded. "Date." "Not a date!" They asked what would happen if someone else were to come along. I balked. "See, resisting the third wheel, it's a date." "It would totally defeat the purpose of just spending some uninterrupted time with him!" "Date." They called over Zoila as an expert witness. She asked how long we'd been doing this. "Since 2001." "See, they're going as friends."

It was quite amusing. I got to squee to Sandstrom when I poked my head in his classroom, to cRon, and Sheldon at the potluck, and to the rest of my team (except for Irving) in class.

Finally got the tickets. Online from school. This makes me suspect that the Son of the Malfunction is lurking in poor Tigereye. I can still cuss out AOL, though. I sent a happy e-mail to Darkside.

Picked up the Little Fayoumis and came home. He got another School Mascot Animal of the Week awards. He pinned the new pin and the old pin to his backpack. Nothing like a little bit of bragging...

Picked up package from office. It's a present from my parents. It feels like a calendar. Little Fayoumis moved all the packages from the shelves to under the tree, and figured out which one was his lightsaber. Correctly, I might add. Wasn't really hard. He was stoked.

Put label on package, invoking Santa. It takes a lot out of you, to do it properly. All that Ho-Ho-Hoing really works out the abdominal muscles, and then the chimney-stuff...!

Little Fayoumis had no homework, and is watching Pokémon.

I really should get a few things tidied up...
running, bomb tech

Cleaning Demon

I'm to remind votania to pack lunch chocolate covered espresso bombs beans in her purse.

I just went into mild Shiru mode around the living room, and have been briefly recharging at the computer in between flutters.

Little Fayoumis already had supper; he requested it at five. Good Fayoumis.

The latest events have made me realize, yet again, that this is a bunch of collected notes to myself, and people who haven't been here all that long don't have the context to figure out the cryptic bits, and tend to figure them out wrong. Also, one person's self-depreciating may be another person's trollish. Lack of communication, severe, but since this is my forum, I "win", whatever that's worth, which is precisely jack.

Sheesh. Gods, according to some of this story, I might well be a Mary Sue in my own life. Which is what I'm supposed to be. I think.

marxdarx gave me the soundtrack from The Empire Strikes Back in cleaning, and I'm using it to good advantage -- cleanup and entertain-LF music, as it's Star Wars music, and LF has suddenly developed a Star Wars obsession. So, coming home from school today, I told him the story of Anakin Skywalker. Spoilers all the way. But that's the great thing about a vast story with many characters and many different adventures -- you can pick out one character, and spoil all of that character's destiny, but not touch even half of the story arcs. Han Solo? Nowhere in the story of Anakin Skywalker and his destiny.

Apartment looks much better. Happy.
running, bomb tech


Little Fayoumis successfully fed. Yay for pre-cooked mac & cheese; yay for Mommy for cooking them!

Had to threaten him with the corner once tonight: not so much threaten as warn him that his pestering for me to reveal the surprises I have for him will result in the corner, next time he does it. There was some small pouting, but not much.

He did ask, after a while, that the Star Wars music go off so he could have fun with Marx's keyboard. Happiness, quiet happiness was afoot: first he started to play the keyboard without headphones. I put a swift end to this bright idea. All was peace until bedtime, which progressed without incident. For whatever reason he was exhausted, and was yawning throughout reading aloud to me.

Mommy called with a 'host not found' error; I played Tech support 101. She will be g33x0r against her will!

I called Dawn and caught her up on the past few weeks of news. Car, not getting run through the verbal shredder in asking for the not-a-date, and LF news. Happiness and gossip! Also shared the intelligence that 15 hours in 14 months is not enough.

Sampled some of the blood-colored cordial, strained the first batch of fruit out, and put in more. That fruit should sit until Joshian New Year, I think...