March 17th, 2004

running, bomb tech

Is my gut smoking crack?

At any rate, we had another schedule collision this morning, but happily that one was identified before we went to bed. Well, in my case, after I'd gone to bed, but they came home and woke me up.

marxdarx had to be at school at eight. votania had to work at about the same time. I had class at seven, followed by two hours of lab. The Little Fayoumis had nothing to do, and no one to do it with.

Since Marx skipping school, me skipping school, or Votania skipping work were out, the Little Fayoumis came with me to class. He was fine sitting in class, but got quickly bored in the computer lab. He was trying to help me out with my programming syntax (ASP.Net, beginning) but as he doesn't know shit about programming (being as that he's barely up to simple HTML that I dictate to him) he was less than helpful.

There were run-time errors, of course, given that it was copy-from-screen-up-front type code, and that was not fully tested. I helped the guy next to me, who had gotten some weird stuff in his page somehow (like, I swear, mutant -- too many head tags, too many body tags, body tag up in his head tag and/or head tag in his body tag...) and we finally got it so his could run as broken as the rest of the class's. A handful of people got it to run, and more than a handful got it to cough back a run-time error.

The Little Fayoumis was less successful in running his wiggles out than he might have been because he was playing, not running. Oy.

After that, I went upstairs and found out what was the paperwork I had to do. Yay, paperwork. (Not.) I'd better get an A on this class, though a C would satisfy the Dean. Evidently I hadn't dropped all those classes last tri as I'd tried to, or at least thought I'd tried to. Oy.

But I'm home now, and we've all had lunch, and the Little Fayoumis is getting some game time in. I'll let him go for a few more minutes and then pull him out, because I forgot to set the timer.
sad, greensad

O, the tearful & wailing Woe

Little Fayoumis got about twenty minutes (or so) on the PS2. I forgot to set the timer, so I had to tell him that time was up. I saw that he was in the middle of a race, so I told him that he should shut down when he finished the race.

Now, he's got a cute little habit of restarting the race whenever he thinks he's going to lose. This generally means that he never wins a race, or even finishes.

And he did this just then.

Lunatic tells the birdling to shut down NOW.

Tantrum threatens; Lunatic tells birdling that he's got a choice -- put everything away nicely, or go up to his bed in his room if he's going to be crying about it. He chooses bed. I put things away. When he comes out, he wants to put things away. More wailing, when my betrayal is discovered.

I am pitiless, but not without mercy. We discuss this, and it turns out that he doesn't want to lose because it makes him feel bad. I tell him that in order to win the game, he needs to finish it, even if he thinks he's losing. I explain that if he erased all the problems on his fast math sheet and started over every time he thinks he got one problem wrong, would that help him learn or not help him learn? Not help, duh. So this is the same thing like that. He gets mad because he thinks I'm calling him a loser (as it turns out after the next "I am going to my bed to cry now" thing blows over). I explain that I am not saying "Nyah-nyah, soooomebody's a loooooooser!" -- I am saying that in order to learn more how to win the game, he has to finish the race, even if he is not winning the game -- to learn it. And then he ponders that he can play a certain game tomorrow.

I tell him (again, because evidently he'd missed it the first time) that because of the big noisy fuss as a result of having him stop the game this time, there would be no Playstation time tomorrow.

He said that he was so angry. I told him that I was sorry that he felt that way, but he needs to learn that when he makes a big fuss over something, especially something that's supposed to be fun, then there are consequences. He elaborated that when he didn't win, he got angry about that too. I was sorry he felt that way about that, because the game was not supposed to make him angry. He stomped off to (in his words) figure out what his malfunction was.

After I came back from taking out the trash, he said that his malfunction was that he thought it was supposed to be fun all the time with the game. I recommended that the next time he saw himself getting angry at the game, that he should breathe deeply and say, "Maybe it will be better some other time" to calm down.

And he practiced.

I am encouraged, because I was ready to give up the conversation after the second stomp-off-and-cry, but he wanted me to go on, to continue the conversation, because he wanted to learn more.

In other news, Darkside's working today too. Blast.
  • Current Mood
    not yelling
running, bomb tech

Innumerable Shiny Things; emergency bags

One of the features of this apartment complex is what I call "the recycle area" -- that walking space in the enclosure that holds the dumpsters. People leave stuff in this area if it's still good enough to be used and not junk to be thrown out, but they don't want it anymore, or don't want to deal with giving it to a proper charity.

Today there were several items of interest. I did not claim the computer monitors, as we haven't room for them. I did snag the nice heavy-duty black laptop carrying case, and an interesting-looking book: Principles of Electrical Engineering, Fourth Edition, by William H. Timbie and Vannevar Bush. I count this quite the find, as I am interested in the field, or more specifically, I am interested in having reference books on all the fields that I've got a vague starting knowledge of immediately to hand in case I ever want to do something useful or look something up, or just read and improve my mind.

It turned out that Shammash just fits in the laptop case, which is only fit, as he is a laptop cat. He was sniffing at it, and I put him in and zipped it up except for a hole for his head to poke out of. He was not particularly pleased, but put up with it with questionable grace. I wonder if this laptop case and a mesh laundry bag would be a decent soft-shell cat carrier...? (Probably not.)

My habit, ingrained in my early teens, is to always have a bag packed for hasty departure, in case of emergency or urgent need to leave. This new black bag is just the thing. I scavenged several non-useful parts of my wardrobe -- navy blue drawstring pants, my 24 Hour Dave Smith Run T-shirt, mismatched socks, a too-small bra -- to leave in the bag along with the other pre-packed items from the former bag -- towel, toiletries, underpants, an Emergency Clergy Kit, a freebie miniature New Testament (reading material -- never leave the Lunatic stranded and bookless). The bag will be put somewhere out of the way of general traffic but easy to grab in case of emergency.

The Little Fayoumis will be getting the bag that I was using before. Right now it doesn't have very much stuff in it (towel, toothbrush, toothpaste, failed CD burn for an emergency mirror, granola bar) but it will get more.
running, bomb tech

Oh yeah. That day again.

St. Patrick's day.

Now. I don't have any snakes, so I can't offer to ship some back to Ireland as a public service... (*giggle*)

*looks at self* Why, yes, in a weird coincidence, even my underpants today happened to be black...

In fact, the only green I'm wearing would have to be... no, wait, I ate a pink popsicle instead of a green one. So no, not even that. eyes are 1/3 green?

And yes, my paternal line goes back to Ireland. Two brothers of my father's paternal line came over around the Potato Famine. But as I'm neither Protestant nor Catholic, and instead am "snake", perhaps I can stay out of the color-related gang warfare today.


Perhaps, someday, if the major gangs chill out, perhaps the wearing of gang colors will fade to only once a year on some major holiday, where you pinch the people who are wearing rival gang colors.
running, bomb tech

Sleepy Loony

Sleepy Loony here. Orange chicken is good. Squirrelly two/three year old at the place; she was all over the place and her dad(?) was trying to keep her contained.

Everyone was grouchy/tired; communication crash again (thank gods that the LF and I were left out of it) and sleep dep was a major contributing factor.

Now, bed soon. I should really call Tay-Tay one of these nights... but not tonight.
_schools120835, IRL, professional, Naomi, _schools3485

Hazel Eyes

Evidently my eyes photograph as brown or black. They're actually not.

Hazel is really such an obnoxious catchall term for eye color. They say that hazel eyes are the only ones that change color. My eyes don't change color. They are not a nonspecific catchall color. Around my pupils, the irises are a lovely orange-brown. The outer edges of the iris are two different colors, one on the inner side towards my nose, a different color on the outer side towards the sides of my face. The inner sides are dark green, and the outer sides are dark blue. My eyes may appear to change color based on light and dilation, but the color is the same, and it never shifts around.

Mama said that she'd been hoping that we would have lovely brown eyes like FatherSir has, but I like my pretty blue and green and orange eyes.