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A day.

11:25 AM 5/1/2007
My darlings! I am needing of some database-fu. My brain needs to think about these
things, and the easiest way I can think of to get into the mode where I can do these
things is by thinking about them, preferably running off at the mouth in public.

When I disengage the filter between the brain and the mouth, that means that I type
really really fast. This is about how fast I was typing that day that I got the 10k
words out.

but I'm not going for that today. I'm going for database. And I get to go into those
test queries and see how to get things to work like that. So maybe; maybe two
different ones for the things? I hate that but hey, maybe it's necessary.


11:35 AM 5/1/2007
So what I really need to do is get away from the computer, lie down on the floor
with a notepad, and scribble there until I'm comfortable with what I'm doing, and
then come back to the computer. I can deal with that.

I also have hot tea and ice water. Life is good.


12:28 PM 5/1/2007
Got the beginning stages of this thing. I'm going to have to do it in parts, but I
did the beginnings of the logic when finding the hours for the thing where I was
doing the data entry (evil!) and all I have to do is duplicate that work. I'm so
glad I keep queries around, and I kept those because they are beautiful and elegant
and I could probably cut out about five steps but HEY they WORK.


1:07 PM 5/1/2007
oh gods, things from the past. "You don't know how." High school. (Apropos of last
night's helium orgy at work. Orgy in the "big party" sense, not in the "hey, sex!"
sense.) My freshman year quasi-boyfriend figured out that I did not know how to give
oral sex (well, I'd never done that, right?) so he was determined to teach me. "You
don't know how, Joan!" But last night's thing was that Homie G. Jr. didn't
know how to suck helium. So they showed him.

There were balloons, see, being given out for getting surveys. This led to insanity.



2:11 PM 5/1/2007
I have taken to calling Darkside in the evenings. It's nice to wish him goodnight.


2:37 PM 5/1/2007
Now I'm playing "Yes, but does it do what I think it does?" where "what I think it
does" is "what I want it to do".

And, haha. Syne is not the person to spam, in Russian, about your penis. Or anyone's
penis.


3:00 PM 5/1/2007
http://www.oddmusic.com/gallery/om24550.html
http://www.exploratorium.edu/visit/wave_organ.html
http://rudd-o.com/archives/2007/04/30/spread-this-number/
http://www.cnn.com/video/partners/rss.pub/index.html?url=/video/tech/2007/04/29/vause.panda.porn.cnn&date=2009/04/28
(yeah. Pandas. Evidently not all of them know what to do when it comes to mating,
and the best way of teaching? Video or live action with couples who do know
how.)


3:16 PM 5/1/2007
Oh, yes, I am well-pleased with myself. It does indeed appear to be doing what it
says on the box. I really want to ask Darkside in here to try and break it, but
that's the sort of thing that probably would not happen.


3:29 PM 5/1/2007
Okay, now I'm into territory where I'm not entirely sure what is happening, but I
like some of what I'm seeing, but I'm also feeling in myself that I've been sitting
still entirely too long, and I will need to watch that I don't fall over when I get
up. Recommended course of action: turn music up, start boogeying in my seat before
trying to get up.


3:34 PM 5/1/2007
My query has buckets. (No, seriously, the legacy programmer of the original app for
some of the source data called some of the categories that things fell into
"buckets", so I kept the terminology.)


4:26 PM 5/1/2007
Damn buckets. Yay hot tea. I'm fairly sure that I should have a hot bath and a hot
tea and a good book and soak the tension out from the computer, but somehow I do not
think that I will have 100% the time for this.


5:15 PM 5/1/2007
What is it called when you're good at taking information input, and condensing it
into a form that others can understand? Because that seems to be my skill. Doing
that with a saving grace of humor, to boot. There are so many professions that this
would be good in. But I take things in, I understand them, and then share them with
others, in cracktastic ways.
Gone away, gone ahead,
Echoes roll unanswered.
Empty, open, dusty, dead.
Why have all the Weyrfolk fled?

Where have dragons gone together
Leaving weyrs to wind and weather,
Setting herdbeasts free of tether;
Gone, our safeguards, gone, but whither?

Have they flown to some new weyr
Where cruel Threads some others fear?
Are they worlds away from here?
Why, oh why the empty weyr?

-- "The Question Song", Anne McCaffrey
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