September 15th, 2004

loud fayoumis

Dreams: neighbors, intuition, and the Great Weird Kidnapping Stunt

I dreamed that I was either my neighbor from back home (the woman who lived down-the-hill, only not quite) or someone intended to be something like her, and I was recounting the tale of how I'd moved. I'd been suddenly struck by intuition that I needed to get out of there fast, see, and then I was driving and picking up everything I had and going as fast as I could because I knew someone was after me.

That faded into the process of moving back in to my parents' house, and sorting out laundry and dealing with scooping a full catbox. (This was actually the house of my real parents, and my real parents were there.)

Somehow or other, that turned into something completely different, involving a girl who was in a large town for the first time, and a slightly alien girl, at that, and she was going about town and trying to find some friends her own age. At first I was me-ish, the lady who was suspicious that was trying to deal with her, but then at some point I switched perspectives. The friends thing did not go so well when the bad guys got there, because they took her and held her for ransom. They were broadcasting a demand from a little jury-rigged radio set up to look as if it were broadcasting from a different location than where the guy was actually sitting (and it wasn't much of a hoax, as the locations were maybe 6 feet apart).

I (I was definitely the girl at this point) saw my dad's plane coming in, and it landed in front of the tinted window (we were in an airport terminal, and my dad had a little bush plane) (Note: for this dream, "my dad" was not my actual dad.) and people got out. My dad walked over to the other window well away from where the bad guys were at, cut a hole in the glass, looked in and looked around, then got back in the plane (I-the-dreamer zipped out to follow his perspective) and taxiied off and around a bend, then taxiied into the window that he'd previously weakened, shattering it (and crumpling the nose of the plane a little) so he could barge in. Oddly enough, he was played by the Governator.

And then I think I woke up.
  • Current Music
    Cat, whining
running, bomb tech

Freewill of the Week (Taurus, Gemini, and Cancer, just like little ducks all in a row... )

Taurus Horoscope for week of September 16, 2004
Even if you're not a jazz fan, you'll thrive in the coming week by using a modus operandi that resembles jazz. I suggest, therefore, that you improvise frequently. Experiment with intricate, strong, and playful rhythms. Infuse your yearning for freedom with humor. For further insight about how to proceed, meditate on the following clues from three jazz greats. Ornette Coleman: "Jazz is the only music in which the same note can be played night after night but differently each time." John Coltrane: "You can play a shoestring if you're sincere." Miles Davis: "Don't play what's there, play what's not there."

Gemini Horoscope for week of September 16, 2004
One of my best teachers always referred to himself as an unteacher. My goal is to strip away your certainties," he said, "so you can be alert to how mysterious life actually is." He didn't want to fill me up with a load of fixed ideas, in other words, but rather encourage me to cultivate the habit of questioning everything. I wish I could perform the same service for you, Gemini, especially now that you're becoming more receptive to the naked truth. I'd like to help you understand that in order to fall deeply in love with the world's messy beauty, you need to be able to gaze upon it as if it were just created a moment ago. (P.S. As psychotherapist Robert Augustus Masters says, the truth cannot be rehearsed.)
Hoo boy.

Cancer Horoscope for week of September 16, 2004
Young rock bands often do cover tunes, copies of songs originally performed by well-known musicians they admire. Art teachers sometimes give their students the assignment of reproducing the great paintings of the old masters. To take maximum advantage of the current astrological influences, I suggest you use this strategy in your own unique way, Cancerian. Pick a hero, either dead or alive, either famous or unsung, whose approach to life you admire. Find out as much as you can about that person, and then engage in a flurry of imitation. Dress, talk, think, and dream like your hero. In every situation you're in, ask yourself what he or she would do. Have imaginary conversations, fantasize abundantly, and move through your days and nights as if you are that person.
Raistlin isn't a good choice, love.

Uncensored Opinions:Baa-baa, Lunatic, have you any wool? (Yes, sir, yes, sir, three lemmings full.)

Leave a comment with your name if you want to know what I really think of you, and I’ll reply and tell you. No lies, all honesty.

Been debating this one, but I asked wibbble, so I suppose it would be nice of me to post this in return.

Sometimes I think I'm oversocialized. I'm used to expressing myself in a very restrained fashion, which sometimes comes out as polite little social lies.
  • Current Mood
    nervous nervous
Housewife's Lament

Things I've done today:

Showered. Dressed. Brushed hair. Checked e-mail and LJ. Replied to old comments; cleared out old e-mails. Sent e-mail to m'love cryptically updating him on the outline of things that I'll need to share with him when we speak in person. (Why must he share his e-mail address with his parents?)

Things I haven't done yet:
my walking, going to the library, any necessary shopping, linking to The Elements of Style for writing group (which would be an awesome thing to include as well as The Artist's Way)

Things I missed my chance to do today:
give digitalambience his wedding present.
ieee coin

Incomparable paycheck smugness

I checked in with the office, and my "occurrences" (absences in number-crunching form: an unscheduled missed day called in is 1, a missed day without any kind of notice is 1.5, late or leaving early are .25 each) are at 3.75, which makes me OK to get my next scheduled pay raise (which will probably be reflected in the next paycheck).

I was also informed via a memo on the supervise/monitor/assist sign-in/sign-out clipboard that phone goons pulled to do work other than Phone Goon Work (monitor, supervise, front desk, walk, otherwise assist) will be getting $0.25 an hour more for those hours that we're doing that.

Not much, but I believe I'm seeing that on my pay stub this time (in the form of "Adjustment"), and it's enough to cover my share of the writing group dinner for one week. Since that's one of the things helping keep me sane and socialized, I very much approve that my monitoring (which also helps keep me sane and socialized) is helping pay for this.

I think I like my job.
teddyborg, geeky

Geek Humor

The Bootloader that Never Was

Once I wrote a program using a GOTO and line names just so I could write "GOTO HELL".

Perhaps I'll write an information-containing function and name it Alice.

Call (ALICE) //I think she'll know...
running, bomb tech

Living in a dream

These past few days have been very shocky for me. It's not typical that I have experiences that I can't or won't write about in LiveJournal, and it's also not typical for me to have so much busy-time at work so that I can't even breathe between calls to write. (I complained about the dialer to the Quiet Geek Super yesterday; his response, "It wasn't all that bad, Joan." Oh, yes it was!)

Sunday evening was too confusing and precious to put into coherent public words, so I won't even try just now, beyond what I already have written down.

Monday, I monitored. That was fun.

Tuesday, I was a wallflower, and hung with Figment in the break room before we got called in for our shift. We discussed current events. I have upgraded Figment in my personal estimation to "colleague in things often not spoken of," as per recommendation and earlier conversation with him. (othercat, I know there's been a lot of cryptic-ness. It's a bunch of weird freaky witchy shit, and only a big deal to those immediately involved, namely, me.) He tried something weird in line, which had the net effect of damping down my hyperactivity and briefly annoying Darkside's undermind. I also learned how to duplicate it for myself, or near enough, which should prove an interesting tool in the future.

They put me on the recruitment for the panel survey that I do, which means that the survey's twice the length of the panel, you talk to more people, though for less of the time, and you get a lot of people hanging up on you, a lot of people not wanting to talk, and a lot of people not in the demographic group you're looking for.

Usually, there is at least a second between calls, a second or five to catch your breath or sip some water to soothe your poor abused throat. This time, the calls were coming in so fast there wasn't even the whole beep between calls, if that. When I got two calls at the same time, I collared the Quiet Geek Super and told him, glaring. I was barely able to log out to go to the bathroom; I had to try multiple times before it worked. This reflected on my monitor report; my voice was growing less and less happy each time I failed to log out.

There ought to be a law that calls on an automatic dialer cannot be routed to phone center workers without sufficient time between calls to log out of the system properly (rather than by mashing the phone to turn it off).

Today, I lazed about the house until late afternoon, then headed out on the bus to the Burton Barr central library. I was able to find the book I was looking for with no trouble; finding the ladies' room was more trouble.

By the time I got home, I had the shakes and general dizziness, because I'd been hungry when I set out, and three hours and a decent amount of walking did nothing to improve this. I need to start keeping random power boost items in my purse, other than the espresso beans, because those would have made me crash harder.