Sorry about the lack of posting - I forgot that I had changed my ftp password, and was wondering why my blogs weren't showing up. Duh.

Anyway, Happy Holidays to all.

Before I go - we miss you, Dad.
Online Memorial

I've decided I will never be able to post again. I only get online every few days and my mother is usually home and decides she needs to call someone every five minutes. My dad's doing pretty well - we went hiking this past Sunday in South Mountains State Park outside of Morganton, NC, and saw High Shoals Falls. Very pretty...

I've basically been sitting on my ass, exercising, and cleaning for the past 2 months. I need to sign up for classes, or volunteer, or something... oh, and I'm getting my permit tomorrow. Haven't bought a car yet, but we've been looking - I want a Mazda Tribute, although I do feel pretty guilty about getting an SUV. It gets 19/24 to the gallon, not bad for an SUV, but still... I may have to trade it in next year when they come out with the Ford Escape that uses either natural gas or electricity to reduce the gas usage (I know there's a name for that but it completely escapes me.)

My life is too boring to post about, so I'll leave you with this current theory - in the green room on Wheel of Fortune, along with the snacks and stuff, they leave out 3 drinks, one for each contestant. One of them is spiked with sugar, caffeine, and uppers. Next time you watch, guess which one got the special drink. They're easy to spot.

I so need to get a life.

Well, I actually wrote a huge blog last week (Thursday, I think) on the notepad of my dad's desktop. But, of course, as I was about to copy it and go online to post it, the computer froze and ate the whole damn thing. I hadn't saved it (duh) because I was only running frickin' wordpad, and nothing should have crashed it. Argh.

Anyway, to sum up - withdrew from school, did a bunch of stuff, handed Earth over to its new leaders, threw a goodbye party, went home. Monday we talked to the lady from hospice, which was depressing. Tuesday my mom called at 9:45 to wake me up and tell me to turn on the TV, the WTC and the Pentagon were on fire from plane crashes. I watched both towers fall. We watched the news all day - that was even more depressing than Monday. The rest of the week we spent a lot of time watching TV and such, but got back to normal pretty quickly. The social worker came over - Thursday? I think? And that was somewhat depressing too (again, from hospice). I know we have to do this stuff, and it'll help us later, but right now we'd just prefer not to think about what's to come, and go on about our daily lives. I'm pretty good at doing that, I think. My mom's having a rougher time, and of course my dad thinks about it the most. He's having trouble sleeping, and is taking off from work a lot.

Joanne stopped by Sunday with Debbie's homemade chocolate chip cookies (nummy), before she went back to Chapel Hill. We talked about all sorts of stuff (well, she did most of the talking. ;) I don't think I've seen her since she left for Germany... I don't think. Hm. Anyway. Her mom's card came yesterday, it was sweet.

I've been unpacking for the past week or so, getting ready for Bob to come visit (he's in Atlanta now, apparently he didn't have a lot of problems getting in from Saudi Arabia). He'll stay over this weekend. Saturday my sisters are getting me drunk (I turn 21 Saturday night at midnight). Sunday we're seeing a play at the Blumenthal - The Foreigner. Good comic relief. Then we're all going to Bistro East, Kamel's new endeavor, Sunday night for dinner. Tuesday my parents are going to Duke to look for miracles... this past Tuesday the whole gang met at the Mellow Mushroom, across the street from Caron's house. It's a pizzeria/bar place that my parents happened to go to one Tuesday, and they found it was Trivia night. They've played 3 times and loved it - so the 3 of us, Fred and Sheila Dombrose with their eldest, Lisa, Sheri, Doug, and eventually Carol Ann, all converged on an outside patio table. We had (very good) pizza, and everyone else drank one of their 70 beers on tap. After an hour or so, we realized they should have started trivia 1/2 hour ago, and the waitress said that trivia night stopped 2 weeks ago, and won't start again until Spring. Everyone was disappointed. We decided to make our own trivia night next time. Sheri offered to bring her 'Sex edition' of Trivial Pursuit.

Ayako got back from South Africa okay, thank god. Apparently she was frisked quite a few times, and all of her luggage was thoroughly searched. Other people had their scissors confiscated. Caron's been listening to every patriotic song she can find and making more ethnic slurs than usual (that's my girl...) My mom hung her little stuffed lady holding an American flag on our front door, since we can't figure out how to set up our flagpole on plastic columns.

I'm not really in the mood to be posting, so I'll sign off... I'll have to remember to put up that e-mail that basically says Afghanistan is already miserable due to the Taliban, and we can't do anything to them that the Taliban hasn't already done, besides maybe killing more of their widows and disabled orphans. I'm not saying no action is necessary, but I think bombing is stupid. I think cutting off supply lines to the people of Afghanistan is stupid. (By stupid I mean unnecessary, inefficient and cruel.) I think we need to use guerilla warfare and cut down the members of the Taliban one at a time, and get them the fuck out of there. Everyone knows what's been going on there for the last few years, but no one's either had the balls or the charity to take the Taliban out of power.

Anyway... I hope Bush realizes that although the country is asking for action, everyone wants the correct type of action. It's all well and good to say these blanket 'We're gonna kick your ass!' statements, and rally the country behind you and feel all popular, but when it's all over, your actions will be scrutinized. If you destroy Afghanistan, you're not erasing the problem. All you're doing is ruining a country we should be helping out, and allowing the rich, powerful, connected villains who took over it to escape.

My other fear is that it could very well escalate into nuclear or biological warfare. I just hope he's careful.

Well, it has been a while since I've posted, hasn't it. I wonder if I appeared on fucked weblog - probably not enough readers to notice that I'm gone.

A lot has happened in the last three weeks. I left my job unfinished, packed up my Berkeley apartment and went back home to Charlotte. We have a nice new house, small but with lots of good touches. A townhouse, so our patios are shoulder-to-shoulder, and we have no yard to speak of. It was strange taking a different exit off the highway to go home, though. Ah well.

We celebrated my dad's birthday, #54. He got a hand-drawn portrait of our old house, since he liked it so much. Not bad - the angle was kind of weird, but not too bad at all. I brought home sourdough, pistachios, artichokes and avacados. I talked with Sarah D, who has either already or will soon depart for a month in San Francisco, to work in the Prodigal project mission in haight ashbury. Her mother is frantic - Sarah is 18. Her fiancee is 19, and they're both born again Christians who think that God will take care of them. Ah, youth. I told her the horror stories about getting shot with a pellet gun, proposed to by a 70-year old Arabic man, and the random guys trying to get my number or (shudder) give me a ride in their car. She seems sensible enough, just really ignorant from having lived in the suburbs of charlotte all her life.

I packed up all my stuff, we crammed it in a minivan and spent a night at Uncle Bruce's. Laura was supposed to move in that day, and she called me just before midnight to tell me that the house is trashed and the doors are unlocked, with no keys anywhere. Ayako, Laura, and I all discuss it, and I leave a very angry message with our property manager (aka asshole slumlord). After much calling back and forth, they send over 3 guys and a utility truck, and clean the place out over four hours. Mom, Dad and I run around grabbing all the nifty stuff that was left behind (a printer?? a stereo with 3 foot speakers and a turntable, a TV...) and get all my boxes moved in. The cleaning lady comes through and washes the tubs and removes the rotting food from the fridge (we love you cleaning lady), and the house is livable.

I went to my first week of classes - dropped 2 without going, decided to audit the environmental art class. Irish history looked really interesting, and studio looked really cool - I was going to research cargo bikes so I could pick up groceries. I found a bunch of crazy bastards - I can't remember the URL, go to http://www.666inromannumerals.org/chunk/ - it's like dlcmvia or something. They make fucked up bikes. wonderful stuff.

Earth had nearly 30 people show up, we had O pizza, it all looked good. a lot of energy. I spent 150 bucks on books (not bad for 11), English looked like fun. We read a short story about two married people having an affair and falling in love. That night I dreamt my mother was cheating on my dad with some 17 year old grocery boy. I was really, really pissed - not so much that she was cheating on him, more that he was 17. I knew it wasn't fair, but I was a real bitch to both of them. I woke up feeling unsettled and embarassed.

Thursday night I got a weird e-mail from my sister Sarah. We'd been chatting lightly back and forth earlier in the week - on the phone, then funny e-mail forwards. I thought I wouldn't hear from her for a while, but she emails me and says, "How are you doing? If you ever need to talk to someone who's not mom or dad, I'm here for you, okay? Call me any time at (phone numbers). Love Sarah."

I worry about this for a few minutes, wondering what the bad news is. Amanda says, "ask her." So I write back, "Uh, is there something I should know about? Did Dad's catscan not go well?" Dad's trip to the oncologist (sp) the week before wasn't so good, he said a bloodtest went the wrong way for a tumor marker, and they moved the catscan up a few weeks. I immediately think of this.

Sarah rights back, "No, just preparing for the worst. You know." I think it's pretty lame, but I decide to accept it at face value and not worry myself.

Then we get to Friday. I was going to go to campus relatively early so that Earth people could put up the hiking trip fliers for next Sunday. It was about 11 o'clock ( I woke up late), and my dad called. Mom wasn't on the phone with him, like she usually is. This usually means bad news. He said in a sad, strained voice, "Do you have time to talk? I have to tell you about something." Uh oh. He calls back on my recently-hooked up home phone (my cell phone only works in the front yard, damn Sprint's lousy coverage).

"You remember that bloodtest I told you about, that it came back positive for a tumor? Well, they did the catscan, and that spot that they had found on my liver before that they said wasn't cancer - well, it's grown since the last checkup. So, my cancer has spread. They could do operations, but it's probably spread all over my body. They can't do anything. The doctors have given me about six more months."

Here's where I start crying.

"They said I'll have three good months, and then it'll start to affect me, and then I'll have a few more months until.... And there's not really anything they can do. There's some treatment, like pills or chemo, but it'll just maybe add a month or so, and it'll make me feel bad the whole time. I'm going to keep working for a while, to keep up medical insurance, and I have 7 weeks vacation, so I can take off whenever I want to. We'll go on trips and stuff, and I wanted to go to the beach again, near Charleston. I always liked it there, I really enjoy walking on the beach." I remember that he had mentioned this earlier, and my mom chided him, saying that he just wanted it to be like it was before, when all of us were kids. I tightened up even more on the floor and cried harder.

We talked more, about financial things, and possible alternative treatments. I had meant holistic or natural medicine, all the new age stuff I've been hearing about. He thought I meant research hospitals. He'll consider the research stuff but again, thinks it will only worsen his quality of life. I decide to bring up the other stuff later, maybe subtly.

He says I have to talk to my teachers, and decide what I want to do. I say, "I think.... I think I'd rather come home." I know that there's not even a question about it, but I can tell he doesn't want me to. He's proud of what I do up here, and he puts a lot (a little too much) of importance on education. I remember what Ayako said about how she regretted spending three years away from her cat, who she loved like a sister. Her cat died of kidney failure at only 9 years old. She said she was so glad that she was able to see her cat, and say goodbye, but she still wishes she had spent time with them, instead of going to college. I remember the week I took off for my grandfather's funeral freshman year. It made my life hell, but I never regretted it... And I knew I had to come home. My dad says, "I was afraid you'd say that. Well, consider it, and ask your advisor.." etc. etc.

After I get off the phone, I start weeping in earnest, balled up on the floor, mouth open in a silent wail. I stumble around in shock and fall on the couch, cry some more. Think. Think about how much I'll miss him. About how his life is kind of sad, how he worked so hard for so long, and he'll never get to retire. About how lonely mom will be. About the pain he's going to go through. And he's not afraid of that, that's not what he's worried about. He just doesn't want it to negatively affect our lives. He wishes he could protect us from it, that's why he doesn't want me to come home. He doesn't want to be a bother to us.

Dad, you silly thing. There's not really a choice about it.

Later that day, mom and dad call back and tell me that they're supportive of me wanting to come home. My dad realizes it would be better all around, that I wouldn't be happy at school. I'd be useless, really. Leaving all the time to visit, not being able to concentrate, etc. Personally, I know he misses me, and he'd be happy to have me home. And I just have to be there. There's no way I can't be home with him, and spend what time I can with him. No way. I went on campus and filled out the withdrawal form later that day. Did a lot of emailing.

I spend that weekend packing, getting things together, making plans. I'm to leave a week later, Saturday the 8th. I get Earth stuff figured out, try to find a new president or new leaders, at least. Ayako and Laura are wonderful. We bake peanut butter cookies and make pancakes and watch movies together. We fight with our landlord about phone lines, and I ask him questions about the lease and subletting. I decide to leave my furniture in the house.

This would have been my senior year, so all of my friends are graduating. I'm really going to miss everyone in Studio - I love this group so much. They're all wonderful. I'd love to have seen what projects they did, and where they go - I'll try to come back for graduation, but I don't know if I will be able to. The doctors say six months - who knows? Anyway, I decide to throw a good-bye party Friday night at my casa. I let everyone know why I'm leaving - he's been fighting it since March. We won some battles, but we've lost the war. Short, to the point.

A few days later, the emails come streaming in. Support, offers of help and sympathy. "If there's anything I can do..." Scheduling getting together with friends who can't make it to the party, or who want to hang out seperately.

My advisor is fantastic. She sends me an email on Tuesday asking if I'm okay, apologizing for not being more touchy-feely on Friday. I tell her it's okay, I'm not touchy-feely either. I met with Harriet today, talked about my summer internship and how well it went, what I hope to do in the future. What I should do on my break. I'm thinking of taking classes or working, if nothing else than to keep myself busy. When I come back, I want to graduate in a semester, save some money. Mom has almost a million dollars to support her, but she's only 53, and the women in her family live a long time. She'll probably have to work more than she does now. I'm hoping Sarah will be able to send her on some cruises. If I get a good paying job, I'll either pay her back or buy her expensive presents like furniture. I always felt bad about taking all that money for my education.

Anyway. I've got another Earth meeting in 15 minutes. I should probably be on time for this one. I'll let the group know what's going on, and we'll try to figure out who's taking over. Ayako and Aria, Matt, maybe some other girls who were in Earth all last year. It's a shame I won't be able to be president, we were going to have a really good year, I think.

We're lucky in that respect, though. Other than the cancer, we really have nothing to worry about. I can take off from school easily. My sisters live nearby. We have enough money. My parents have really good friends to take care of them in NC, I have most of mine up here but I have some in Charlotte, too.

I'll be posting a lot more than expected now.

I've been working on a lot of Earth-related stuff recently, and I thought about how I would defend myself if someone, say an Objectivist, came up and started arguing the merits of conservation. Why do you care what happens to the earth after you die?

A good explanation for people that don't care about the well-being of anyone but themselves would be to tell them that they never really die, they just take a time-out before coming back to a new life. Therefore any problems they create for future generations become their problems next time.

This point becomes moot, however, when arguing with someone who was not raised beliving in reincarnation. I've found that even when someone converts, they still tend to carry a residue, if you will, of old beliefs or superstitions. I just was wondering... if our nation was mostly Buddhist or Hindu, would we have such problems with the environment? Certainly there would be fewer instances of heart disease, since there would most likely be more vegetarians or vegans, or at least more meals that included that eating style. But that's a tangent...

I'm just wondering what the far-reaching effects would be of a national belief in reincarnation. The knowledge that you are responsible for your actions towards yourself and others, that you will meet again those you have wronged, and be forced to make it up to them, that anything you do now will be visited upon you again - how much would it improve our society?

As I see it, or at least as I can tell through casual practitioners of it, Christianity is based on forgiveness. Jesus saves - it means you were lost in the first place. It seems as though most casual Christians use the Bible to justify their prejudices, but ignore its dictates about pious action and do-gooding. They use church as a weekly redemption of their everyday sins, believing that they can do whatever they want, as long as they feel bad about it afterwards, and ask for forgiveness. It's like a never-ending get out of jail free card, and most people milk it for all that it's worth.

If people actually believed that their sins cannot be erased, that they will be punished for any and all wrongdoings (and punished accordingly) - if they knew that the purpose of their life was to improve themselves, to make themselves into better people, rather than to entertain themselves and make themselves happy in shallow ways - would they not be sure to treat others as they wish to be treated? Not because they will go to hell- which any sly Christian knows can be averted by asking forgivness, and besides won't happen to any true believer, regardless of their sins - but because they will actually suffer for it in life. Perhaps not this one, but in the next. People would be much more hesitant to wrong others, knowing that they would later be so wronged. They would be more eager to help others, knowing that they could be helping loved ones that they had lost, or perhaps their future friends and family. Knowing that others would help them when they needed it.

I can't help but think that the loopholes in Christianity, which have turned off so many from mass religion, have been detrimental to society. Now mind, I'm not talking about true Christians, who actually follow the laws of 'Love thy neighbor'. My friend is one of those, and I don't know any group in the world that she hates. My other friend exhibits almost every negative trait I can think of, from time to time, but as a recent convert keeps exhorting me to save myself, before it is too late. I'm sorry, but I feel myself in a better spiritual position at this point than she is, even if I, like the majority of the world, am not Christian. She's caused a lot of pain in her lifetime already, and has more vices than I care to list. Her main goal right now is to keep herself happy and fed, and she uses the Bible as a subsitute for a strong moral force. Because she believes in Jesus, she is a moral person, and therfore doesn't have much to worry about. I don't believe in Jesus, therfore I am doomed. Yet she is preparing to live her life for herself and herself alone, and ridicules any who profess to change the world or help others. She lies with abandon, steals from her parents, hates groups of people because they are different than she is, yet she tells me that *my* soul is in trouble. I'm not saying that I am spiritually superior - but people in glass houses....

I wish more Christians were like Joanne. She loves everybody, she's incredibly sweet, and she likes helping people. Sure, she tries to recruit me now and then, but it's because God makes her so happy, and she wants me to have the same happiness. She wants to help people for the sake of helping people, not to aid her way to heaven.

Is it such a stretch to believe that if everyone was trying to make themselves into better people, the world would genuinly improve? Not be perfect, but... be better. And make it easier to solve problems, or prevent them.

Well, it's all just rhetoric, anyway. Am I using that word right?

Internet's been down a lot today. Hence my late posting... I can't believe I have 3 more days to do EVERYTHING at work. I redid my design again, after realizing that it's a big waste of space. You'd have to lift up an extra 6 square inches of steel or so... we don't need to add any weight. It needs to be <5 lbs. to be handicap accessible, plus we don't want this crashing down and squishing anyone's hand. I'm also trying to keep it animal proof, although it is counterintuitive. You open the lid from the side, not the front. I'll have to put some indicator, a dome maybe, to show where you pick the thing up from, or everyone will be totally confused. Yeah, that shouldn't be too hard.

I've cut it down to four hinges - one for each lid (max 5 lbs., not too heavy duty) and then one for each door. Problem is, they're opening the front, the side, and the lids - that's gonna be a lot heavier. But the hinge can be much more heavy duty... and all of the support is on the ground, not on the worker's backs, so that should help. The way I have it, you can get in from the top or the side,and you can repair it pretty well. I must remember to leave a ramp for hand trucks and wheels...

I started to try to describe my design, but there are so many things were pictures just work.... so much better. Oh, speaking of pictures, I uploaded some yesterday - from my parent's visit to San Fran. Most are not so good, but it was fun to take them. I was also trying to get a picture to put on here, but it didn't come out too well. Hence the random yellow picture of my eyes... By the way, in the pictures, I'm the portly one with the 50s hairdo. I really must get a haircut sometime, but it feels so strange to get it cut more than once a year...

I'm having dinner over at Kat's mom's house tomorrow with Ayako, who will probably pass out into her salmon. She actually did get sleep last night, but I doubt she will tonight... ugh, I'm so glad I'm not in school. We talked to Laura last night, and I meant to talk to the new landlord today, but I forgot to write down the number. I really must stop daydreaming so much - I woke up on time this morning (well, kinda) but I just kept hitting snooze so I could daydream... even when I wake up, I can't stop. I kind of got my mind out of it when I started reading Once and Future King on the train, but then I was thinking of Lancelot and Guinevere the whole way to the bus, and it wasn't very effective. Like giving drugs to heroin addicts - it's not as bad, but it's still not good.

I'm in the mood right now where I'd be happy wandering around my apartment, staring at the wall and talking to myself, with a glazed look in my eyes. I'd be happy doing that for about 3 weeks. When I get a good fantasy going, it's kind of a double edged sword - it makes me happy, but it also makes the rest of my life intensely boring by comparison, so I tend to avoid it. Eventually I get sick of that, but because I still have a good part of the day where I have to work, it keeps sucking me back in. Dammit.

I feel drained. Today was not a good day... my crane won't work with the truck dumper. The internet was down... and I had the most horrific sandwich ever. I knew it would be bad, but I don't think I quite grasped the extent of its potential badness. I'm trying to get rid of my loaf of honey-whole grain bread, or something like that. I am so sick of peanut butter sandwiches that I gag whenever I eat them, so I decided to switch to cheese. Sounds simple right? Cheese sandwich. Well, remember the fancy bread - incredibly soft Monterey Jack and honey just do not mix with whole wheat bread. Ugh. I managed to choke most of it down, because I knew I'd be starving otherwise, but there are some things which are just not meant to be. What the hell else can I do with that bread? It won't die. I've had it for weeks and it's not even spood yet... and I hate Hunt's pudding. The chocolate's okay, but the vanilla is horrible. I know, bitch whine bitch, but how does Jello make theirs so much better? I love Jello, hate Hunts. Hunts just always sucks. They'll never match Heinz, I'm sorry. If I had to choose between purple Heinz and regular Hunt's, I'd choose Heinz any day.

Gotta go - meeting Ayako for dinner. Not getting anything done here anyway - sigh.

Today's my dad's birthday! I think he's 54. I'm a year behind on everyone's birthdays. My sisters turned 27 in July.... I'll be 21 in a month and a half. Gawd. We're all getting so *old*....

Anyway, everyone wish my dad a happy birthday. Hope that this year is better than the last...

Time for at-work-train-of-thought bitching...

I can't find this equipment anywhere. I've called grainger, I've called cushman, I've called toro... nothing.

I need to find a crane that will fit on the back of a small electric truck, like ones made by cushman or toro. It can't tip over. It needs to be able to attach to a dumping truck bed, hopefully without disabling it, or tipping it over. It needs to be able to lift 250 - 500 lbs. I don't even know how to search for this thing. No one has any idea. There must be something out there.... bah.

I found another crane that is cheaper than what we were looking at.. if they still sell them. But it looks okay, it should work. It's like 1/3 of the price - I'm not sure if that's a bad thing or a good thing. Talked to a guy in Washington who would have been able to find a very small crane for me, but they only do local stuff.

Okay, here we go... local manufacturers. This may do it! Yay. If I can get this figured out, at least we'll get *that* done, and I will have accomplished what I came here for. Even though it wasn't my idea, they had all thought of it to begin with.

I love hold music. First it's latino music for Toro industries, then some fantastic classical, and coast cranes played "Wipeout". I was jamming... hell, I'm still jamming. I should stop for lunch, but I'm on a roll.

Ugh. Bad hold music. Or should I say, muzak. It sounds like the theme to an eighties family sitcom. (shudder) If you're wanting some good hold music, call Toro Industries. They have spicy latin and upbeat classical. HarborFreight hold music is Bad.

Awwwwww sheeeit. I done found it. Whatever it is, it's perfect, and solves 2/3 problems, and even one that I'd given up on solving. rock the fucking house. Yeah baby. A crane that folds back into your bumper when not in use - replace the bumper with this thing. That means I can use the dump bed that's available, and the truck doesn't have this crane that's always attached to the bed. Ohh baby. (never thought I'd get *so* excited about a crane.)

Argh. I need to get a quote from this distributor, and I have to write it on letterhead. I haven't written a business letter or memo in forever.. hope I did it right. I feel so professional, faxing people for estimates on US Government letterhead. Wooo wooo....

Okay! I think I got this all figured out. Now I need to go have lunch... is it really 3:30? Wow. I guess I'm making up for all the lost time... my usual thing. With a six week assignment, I would work pretty hard the first 2-3 weeks, spend a week or two completely slacking off, and then work my ass off the last week or so to get the project finished. That's what I've been doing... at least I'm consistent.

Well, I think this is the most boring blog EVER so I will sign off now, and go call Kat's mom, like I should have 3 days ago. oops.

Latarsha determined recently that Caron's life is 16% drama, after sleeping, eating, working, crapping, etc., which is four times the normal amount of drama that people experience. She further determined that one half of that, or 8%, is caused by Caron herself (I might even say more, it seems like all drama starts with Caron). However, that still leaves 8% external drama. Caron wonders why the hell people keep bringing drama into her life. She got rear-ended by a SUV a couple weeks ago. She was slowing down because the people in front of her were slowing down because there was an officer in distress on one side of the highway and there were like 20 cop cars there. The under-the-influence-20-year-old-on-his-way-to-a-club guy in the SUV did not slow down, and plowed into her at 75 miles an hour, sending her across three (luckily empty) lanes of highway. She landed with her feet in the air. Her chiropractor is amazed she can still walk, and she's visiting 3 times a week, and not allowed to lift anything, or sit still. After looking at the car, both Caron and her mother are amazed she's alive. SUVs are BAD.

So anyway, after hearing that the average person's life is 4% drama, and reading a few other people's blogs, I have determined that my drama levels are largely deficient. I think you can tell that from reading my blogs... I think it's from my limited interaction with people. Jamie and Leland rarely bring drama - we had one 'family meeting' where we discussed such dramatic issues as bills, move-out day, and dirty dishes. Ayako and I get along pretty well - our last conflict was about whether or not soup consituted a meal.

Maybe I do have the average amount of drama, but I just swallow it, or ignore it, or don't think about it, or don't care about it... but I think it's mostly the lack of relationships. I'm close friends with Caron and Ayako (although I may try to avoid Caron more, now that she's trying to convert me. Fuck fuck fuckity fuck. She belives that whatever's in the Bible must be real, and true, and historically accurate. They haven't been able to disprove anything in the Bible, she says. Well, if I told everyone that I was an alien from outer space that had taken over a human body, they wouldn't be able to disprove that either, would they? But I'd get locked up, or at least put on medication. However, a large percent of Americans worship a guy who said he was the incarnation of God on earth, and could perform miracles, and walk on water, and rise from the dead... but they are considered fine, upstanding citizens. I agree that the Bible can be considered a partly historical work, but also partly fictional. I put as much faith in what it says as I do romance books - it's 2000 years old, edited and translated thousands of times, by many people that had alternate motives. Take it with a grain of salt. End tangent.)

But anyway, the fact remains, that I really only have 2 friends. I could say that Laura is closer than most other people - ditto with LaTarsha and Kelly Rae. I know Jamie, Leland, Helen, Katelyn, Elizabeth, Lauren, Rachel, Katie, and Hannah that much better because I lived with them, but I hardly see any of them otherwise. Everyone besides Caron and Ayako are really only varying levels of acquaintances. I don't do anything with anyone else. I don't have deep talks with anyone else, not even my family. All of my relationships are either very stable, or very superficial. I don't have conflict, I don't have drama, I don't have problematic relationships, for the most part. Hell, I know Caron and I bug each other at times, and there's definitley a lot we don't agree on. Ditto with Ayako and I, although for the absurd amount of time that we spend together, I think we're doing pretty damn well.

I know I have issues and problems. I know that I have emotional difficulties. Why don't I have drama? Not that I want it, I'm just wondering.... why *not* me?

Eh. It'll probably happen when I start dating (whenever that will be). I'll start that, 'he looked at me weird. I don't know what that's supposed to mean. Does he hate me? Does he love me? Does he want space? Is he cheating on me? Did he just smell something bad, and make a face? Was that something bad - ME?' shit. So annoying. There's certain things I hope I will never become. I hope I won't be an incredibly strict parent. I hope I won't engage in public displays of affection. I hope I never, ever, make baby talk to anyone or anything. (Perhaps my baby's first word will be an SAT word, instead of ga-ga.) I hope I never bore the living shit out of my friends with relationship drama. Just strangers. ;)

Updated my template again. Screwed it up a lot first, but I think I've got it down now... I may decide to make the background white again, but now this matches my webpage a little more closely. Sigh.. if I could figure out how to make the background of the blogs different from the background of the page, it would get a lot closer. But oh well... I don't know what other color I'd make it, anyway.

It's 1:30 and I'm still in my robe... Jamie and Leland have a male friend over, and I don't want to leave my bedroom until I'm dressed... well, even then I don't want to leave my bedroom. I'm still way too shy... but it sounds like they're going to be here for a while, and I really should at least leave the room sometime today. But I have nothing else to do - I went grocery shopping yesterday and picked up La Femme Nikita from Reel Video (they were out of O Brother, Where Art Thou?). Pretty good movie - Nowhere to Run totally ripped it off. I mean, I thought it was just based on LFN, but.... no. Almost scene for scene, except not so eighties, and not so good. I love Luc Besson - his women kick ass. (I haven't seen the Messenger yet...) and Jean Reno was in it! He's so cool. :)

So now I have nothing to do. Ayako went to Oakland to find a children's book for her Child Psych assignment. Jamie, Leland and... friend (no fucking clue what his name is) keep watching Woody Allen movies. He's funny, for the most part, but Woody himself just bugs me SO much. The twitching and and and stuttering and and gesturing, it just... well, it just drives me, y'know, inSANE. Aaaah.

I guess I could keep reading Once and Future King... it's gotten a lot darker in the 2nd part. A bunch of kids hacked the head off of a unicorn... it was really disgusting, and gave you that sick feeling inside. Ew. I need to finish it before I leave (library book), but I want something to read on the BART. Maybe I'll draw... I left all my conte at home, though. I guess my graphite pencil (??) will work. Anyway. Time to get dressed.

Listening to music at home. Y'know, I can live without music, but... why??

A while ago, I was in a Billy Joel mood and downloaded all of the favorites of my youth. It made its way onto my CD of MP3s, and "For the Longest Time" just came on after Billie Holiday. I was about to change it, not being in a particularly Billy Joel-ish mood, but I remembered that night at Governor's School back in Winston-Salem when the boys all sneaked out of their dorms and ran around serenading the girls' dorms. They were right outside my two story window. I was awakened by a great shuffling of feet as the dozens, or perhaps hundreds, ran up to stand on the brick entrance patio. Some whispering and coughing, and then they broke out into an accapella rendition of "For the Longest Time." I was thoroughly charmed. They were about to start something else, when I heard the authorities come running, shouting "Hey! Hey you guys over there! What are you doing out here!" The boys let out that yell, like the one James Belushi, D-Day and Flounder let out in Animal House when they shot the horse inside the Dean's office. That, "Oh shit, we're gonna get caught, let's get out of here, but isn't this funny" yell, as they ran away. I heard more chasing all over campus for a few minutes, and then silence. Great stuff. The guys at Governor's School were fantastic. Smart, talented, individualistic, and not fratty yet. They made their own fun, for the most part, and we all had a great time. It's a shame I didn't get to make friends with any of them, although the other guys in the art class were pretty nice and easy to talk to. I never really clicked with anyone there, though. Which was okay - I think a big part of that summer was learning I could be fine on my own. Without friends, I could find things to do, and be comfortable with it. I don't think I could always live that way, but it made me feel good to know I'm not dependent on anyone else to survive. Well, emotionally, anyway. Hopefully that means I'll be able to avoid destructive relationships, or at least leave them if I have to, and not be afraid of being alone. I think that's a good thing to know about yourself. Maybe that's why I didn't make any close friends - so I could learn that I didn't have to. All in all, that was a fantastic experience.

The graffiti guide to acronyms:

AFAIK = as far as I know
IIRC = if I recall correctly
IMHO = in my humble opinion (H is optional)

This is more for my sake than for yours. I keep forgetting what iirc means. I know there are more... curses! What are they???

Nevermind. I have disproved my theory. Not a good Joe.

For some reason, this place makes me feel very tall.

I just sent a huge long email to a woman who's journaling her mother's battle with lymphoma.

I hope she's not a fraud, like that other girl was (so I heard). Anyway, I told her the story about what my dad's been through in the last 6 months. God, it feels like longer than that. I gave her what advice I could - I think staying positive, and keeping busy, helped the most. There were a few times when I just had to stop, and once when I just had to go home. Having people there with you, to keep your mind off it, also helps. The hard times were when I was alone, and had nothing to do but think. Ayako was really good at feeling positive, and staying upbeat, but listening and talking about it when needed. It helps to know a lot, so when people ask you what's going on, you can speak about it clinically.

I think it was also easier on me, since I tend to not get as emotional. I'm good at internalizing, digesting, and dealing quickly. Accept it, keep going, but think about it, chew on it, until I feel like I have a good grasp of what I'm feeling. I don't ignore it, I don't squelch it, I don't hide from it. Neither do I harp on it, or display it.

I don't do well with physical pain, but I'm okay with hard times.

There's something I've noticed over the past year or so, and I just can't keep it in any more.

The majority of guys named Joe are hot.

I know at least 3 Joes, and I would deem all 3 of them to be imminently crushworthy. I'm not saying they're gorgeous or anything, but they are intelligent, attractive, well-spoken, talented, nice, with good social skills and interesting personalities. As far as I know, they're also all straight.

I know one other Joe who's an ass, but he's in an older generation. I can't tell if he used to be attractive or not.

Is this a worldwide pattern? Is it just a coincidence that all of the young Joes I know are cuties? I'm curious. Does anyone out there know a 20-something Joe that does *not* meet the majority of the above criteria? Are you yourself an unattractive, stupid, boring, mean, or freaky Joe? Tell me.

On a completely unrelated note, I saw a sign yesterday - it included the abbreviation "BLDG" for 'building'. I thought it said BLOG. (sigh) Good lord.

Good day, my lovelies...

I haven't posted much today because I've been convincing myself that I'm actually working. But now I've run out of ways to waste time and I realize that the only other thing left to do is blog or work. Guess which one I picked. Heh.

I spent most of the rest of my day trying to find something. It's a pickup truck bed liner that hydraulically lifts part of the liner and dumps the contents behind the vehicle. But I have no idea what to call it, and I can only find EZ dumper. As far as I can tell, nothing will allow us to have a truck bed dumper *and* a crane on the same truck. Hm.

But you don't care about that in the slightest. Thus I will return to work. I may or may not getting around to posting something else today. Forgive me, my bloggers, for I am deserting you. Both of you.

God help me. Lou keeps playing that old country song, "Take this job and shove it." He just found it. Like it's new??? And it's on REPEAT! He plays it like 50 times a day. Argh. I'm putting my headphones on.

goddamn, but these creme savers are good.

mmmmmmmmmMMMMMmmmmmmm.

To sum up my complaint that got eaten, programmers should not expect anyone to know anything, except for perhaps the most basic computer interaction. Monitor, mouse, keyboard. Geekdom has become this elitist culture that sneers at anyone who doesn't know their way around the deep dark recesses of their PC. You know what my parents use the computer for? Email, the occasional net surfing, whatever. Mainly, though, they write Christmas letters, keep track of baseball scores in a spreadsheet, and play FreeCell. They have no patience whatsoever. None. If a page is slow, my dad reboots. If the printer won't take the sheet of paper, he punches it. I mean really smacks the thing against the wall. No patience, bad temper. Largely ignorant. These should be your model users. Perhaps they should also be slightly neurotic.... everyone seems to be anyway.

Programmers need to take design classes. They need to hear about when a group designed new beds for a hospital in desperate need of places to put the sick. The hospital was in a 3rd world country, and the designers were American. They followed the instructions and created a cheaper, more space-efficient bed. All well and good.

Well, they finally took a trip down there to see how the beds were working out, and all of their pretty, efficient new beds were shoved against the wall, unused, while the ancient ones were crammed together as always. Why, you ask? Because in this country, the families of the sick don't have the money to stay in a nearby hotel, and they want to be with their loved ones. The old beds had a tray underneath the bed, apparently for storage, that was always used as a second kind of bunk bed for the visiting family member. It was a lifesaver for visitors. The new beds didn't have any place for the family member to sleep, and everyone hated them. No one used them, because the designers hadn't taken the time to find out what the users really wanted and needed.

This is what we learn about in school. We learn about the poor little boy who pulled on the cord to his grandmother's crock pot full of boiling split pea soup. The three legged pot dipped just enough to burp a good portion of the soup all down the front of the little boy. It severely burned his entire front, including his face. His genitals were melted off. He has to wear a burn suit, and has been through countless surgeries with few results. This happened because the designers figured that the pot was stable enough that if you hit it, it wouldn't spill, and that big empty space between two legs was a great place for the cord, which would probably go in the back anyway. They didn't think about a very small person yanking the cord as it sat on the end of the stove. Why would you think about that? And yet afterwards, it seems so glaringly obvious.

When you're a designer, you have to think of everything. Could anyone possibly hurt themselves with this? How? Can it be avoided or lessened or warned about? How can we protect people from themselves? To badly paraphrase a terrific speech by "That Zac" Smith of Grade D but Edible fame, "People are stupid. They like shiny things. Even if those shiny things don't do anything, or even if they hurt themselves on them, they will keep buying the shiny things, just because they're shiny." Your Mom, Zac.

What I'm saying here, is that programmers shouldn't expect so much from their users. I'm not saying they won't have to learn some things, but keep the things they learn simple, easy to understand, and relate them as much as possible to real world interaction or similar actions in other programs. Make it easy to correct mistakes. Give them room to do what they want, but don't make it a painful experience. Keep them from fucking up too much, and if they do, let them know how to fix it. Easily. If they can't fix it easily, figure out a way for someone who knows what they're doing to come in and fix it. Computers break more often than cars. Make fixing your computer easier than a trip to a mechanic, or a doctor, or whatever. You have no right to tell us that in order to do what we want/need to do, we have to learn your language and your rules, and spend ghastly amounts of time learning something that we will never need again. We don't have time for that shit. We're busy. We want to get done what we need to get done, and get on with it. Don't patrionize us by breaking down the hours of learning into bite-sized pieces. Give us a decent-sized helping to tear into, and let us go at it. Don't give us more than we can handle. Don't treat us like idiots, even though we are, because you're an idiot, too. If something is complicated, provide additional, clear help. Anticipate all levels of users. Ignorance does not equal stupidity, and knowledge does not equal intelligence. We all know more about something than you do. When you go to the doctor, they don't speak in jargon, or if they do, they explain it in layman's terms. Next time you go to a doctor, how would you feel if they expected you to understand the procedure of a complicated surgery you were about to undergo, and talked to you like an idiot if you didn't? Silly, frustrating and annoying, huh? Well, welcome to customer service.

fuck. I just wrote this huge long rant about computers and their lack of user friendliness, and the stupid server timed out and ate my post.

how ironic. I suppose it was getting back at me. Bitch.

Well, that was embarassing. The internship guy (who I never really talk to, go figure), was amazed at how I could just 'sit here' at my computer. Guess what, I'm wasting time!! Anyway, so he hops up on the cubicle wall and leans over to see what's on my screen. Unfortunately, I happened to have followed a trail of links to fucked weblog. Naturally, he reads the title, and I have to explain stupidly about the website that I 'stumbled upon' by 'clicking the wrong link.' Heh.

My face was RED. Alright, *whip crack* back to work.

Heh. And I work here, too.

New National Parks Website Makes National Parks Obsolete

From Davezilla's create your own Sci-Fi script... basically mad-libs. My version:

Scene I. Prophecy Fulfilled
[A large meteor is hovering the earth. Its arrival is believed to be the fulfilling of an ancient Aztec prophecy.]

The Top Scientist is consulted: “I’ve read legends about it in my feet . We believe there are only 200008763.8 left in artic circle . If it’s allowed to land, it could alter time and space forever! The only way to destroy them is with the ancient girdle from Atlantis!”

Scene II. Attack
[The meteor crashes to earth. Strange creatures escape and attempt to overtake the planet.]

“They must have overheard us talking about the girdle and followed us here! They’ve destroyed everything in their path!”

[The leader of the space creatures steps forward.]

“Oh my buddha . Look at the size of its ear !” screamed the General.

“One thing’s for certain General; it’s not human. It appears to be part dragon and part TV .” exclaimed the Top Scientist.

“Easy! Don’t make any sudden movements General. I think it’s trying to ate with us.”

“It’s attacking with its radioactive tougue ! Team? Get out your cheeses and grill like you mean it!”

Scene III. Earth fights back
[Weapons bounce harmlessly off the creature.]

“The bullets have no effect!” said the General. “Try the sonic fountain . Set weapons to lick . I’ll have to go into its lair alone . I’ll need some light. You there. Give me your carpet .”

[The General calls back on his walkie-talkie.]

“The creature seems to understand me. We’ve been communicating telepathically using our skull . Team? It’s leaving the cave. Go for its breathtaking nosehair . That’s its vulnerable spot.”

[The team attacks but the General waves them back.]

“No, scarf back! This is between me and him. We’ve got an old birdpoo to settle...”

Scene IV. End
[The girdle works and the creatures are driven back into space. The General congratulates the team.]

“Well done team. The world is once again safe from the threat of alien coatracks . I think we can all piddle easy now.”

You know what I really despise? I mean, really, really, hate? When a page loads in a weird, bad-special-effects, scrolling-light-display sort of way, like in vertical lines. Here's an example. Once you take the quiz (I failed miserably), note how the next page loads. In four lines, the first top down, the second bottom up, etc.

Why in the name of all that's holy did anyone a) come up with the idea that pages need to load in an incredibly irritating and senseless way b) come up with a way to do it c) share this with others or d) choose to put this on their site? Is this like evil HTML, where you could tell Internet Explorer to play the smurf song on infinite loop when viewing your page? I just cannot fathom how anyone would think that this would be a good idea. These people need to have their colon violently ripped out.

But that's just me.

*belch* Good day, everyone. It's been a while, hasn't it? Well, that's because my parents were here, and we had a swell - and I do mean swell - time. Saw lots of cool stuff, ate lots of good food. I took a shower in the bathroom of our hotel (The Hyatt Regency), and I think it was one of the most enjoyable showers I have ever experienced. It helps to have water pressure. I could go into more detail but then it would be long and boring.

I noticed something today on the bus - there are at least four different types of cord-pullers. You know that cord that you pull (duh) to tell the bus driver you need to get off at the next stop? Well, I have observed (I can't read on the bus, I have to do something) that people tend to pull the cord in one of four ways:

1) Normal. Not too fast, not too slow, a casual lift, grab, tug, release. Varies slightly but nothing out of the ordinary.

2) Violent. This tends to happen with younger men, especially teenagers, and angry, tight-assed or overall bitchy looking people. They try to yank the cord off the wall, then release it while it's still halfway to the floor. It springs back up and snaps against the window with a loud *smack*.

3) Thorough. All of the movements of the thorough person tend to be slower than Normal. A slow and easy reach up, a firm grasp on the cord, and a long, drawn-out, hard tug, with a slow release. (This is me.)

4) Invisible. The hand zips faster than the human eye, and magically, the cord is pulled. Sometimes accompanied by the snap of the cord against the window. The person resumes their normal position - all of this takes less than a quarter of a second. Upon closer inspection, you realize that they don't even drop their elbow to tug the cord. It is somehow all accomplished with an artful flick of the wrist. Usually seen with 30+ year old working women.

I am sure that with further study, even more cord-pulling groups, and perhaps even subgroups, will emerge. If you have any to suggest, please email me and add to the list. Since I can't figure out how to get comments on this thing, and I have no idea how many people are reading this.

After I discovered this, I wondered if these categories could be used to describe any other common behaviors. Unfortunately, the first thing that came to mind was... sex. Perhaps I would be able to confirm or deny that, had I any experience in that area.

This is fun.

Maybe I should start putting one of those 'all rights reservered' things on the bottom of all of my pages. and emails. and posts.

What the fuck is that supposed to mean, anyway? What rights are you reserving? Ugh.

sonofabitch. My computer just shut down randomly. It keeps doing that... are the office computer gods angry with me for my blatant abuse of their paycheck? did I accidentally kick the power cord? are those vile bastards at PG&E chuckling at our expense?

sigh. an hour and a half more to kill.....

new quote! new quote!

"There is nothing worse than an angry tree."

Bob Ross

oh..... my..... god....

A new way to rate intelligence...

I really must find a way to sneeze in a different way. My sneezes are quite rudely ... damp. Hm.

mmmmm.... Beatles.

Hah! Just found this on another blog.

San Francisco Mad-Lib

Yay.

sigh. another day pretty much wasted. grr.

My big debate now is whether to give up and go home, thereby requiring me to work more hours later, and do laundry before my parents land at SFO... or to stay here and kill time until 8:30 when I take the train down to Colma. Either way, I have to eat dinner - at home I can whip something up real quick while I do my laundry. If I stay here, I'll probably grab something to eat at the airport - not actually get it at the airport, just eat it there. Whatever.

I hate my internet connection! It has gone down more than any other I've ever seen. Who the fuck provides us with our service, Bob's Cable? Argh.

I'm tired and cranky again, and it's only 2:30. No one else is here, everyone's taken off. I'm listening to my mp3s, not so quietly. I should call Alyssa and ask for money and set up a meeting. And I should call Toter and ask if they have any portable fork lifts that fit on pickup trucks and golf carts, and it not, would they like to build half a dozen for us?

ew- eye booger. yech.

ooooo lookey lookey, I'm changing my template. woo woo.

I'll probably hate this in about 5 minutes... I need to get around to making my own sometime. But that's for when I have photoshop and a major project due. ;)

alright, well, fine. I got myself a *new* counter service. Hah. counter4free.com is really nice - lotsa styles (none invisible, tho, I don't think) and they don't even make you link to them. And no dirty sites, either, which is nice. Keep their integrity and all....

So behold, my new counter.

Ohhhhhhhhh ho ho ho. Those bitchez. Those rude little rat bastards.

thecounter.com just took all the stuff I used to get *for free* and changed it to 'the premium account', meaning I would now have to pay 10 bucks/month for it. That is SO rude. I've used their counter for 3 years. THREE years, and now all of a sudden they sell out to internet.com and get an ugly layout and an attitude.

Took away my invisible counter. took away my web statistics. Without asking, without telling me! Well, they might have, in one of those stupid weekly newsletters no one reads, but no special announcement.... 'The counter.com has changed owners! Prepare to be ass-raped.'

Bitchez. Now I'll just have to *sniff* get my counter someplace else.

Microsoft Rat Bastards. I was just in the middle of adding a counter to my blog, and the damn computer froze. I only had 4 windows of IE open, one telnet, and one ms word. This computer has 128 megs of RAM, it really should be okay. Grrrrrr. Anyway, here comes my vanity tally....

And the names! oh god, the names!

Look me in the eye and tell me that Brett isn't a frattie name. Or Casey. ...can you? CAN YOU? no, I didn't *think* so.

My dad was a frat boy. Course, that was probably back when Art was a frat name. But his nickname was the Whale, because he was chubby and could drink so much. Heh. He ain't chubby no more, but I bet he can still drink like a mofo. He and my mom both get all giggly when they're drunk. It's funny as hell. It probably wouldn't be if they did it more often, though...

Well, there's a *shocker*...

How did I know that the boys over at wastedlife.com were fratties? You can tell by the pictures, what they talk about and, uh, their language.

What is it about guys that look like this? Those dazed faces, spiked/bleached haircuts, the thick necks - 9/10 times they're frat boys. I don't know why those type of physical characteristics almost always land a guy in a frat house. It's like the Hitler youth. It's similar with sorority girls, but not always. For instance, Rachel would almost certainly be a sorority chick, but she's not.... I don't think she is, anyway. AFAIK, Kelly "Kappa" C. is the only sorority girl in our ID class... well, sororities might be more of a CD thing.

Gawd, look at that. I'm using graffitispeak on blog. Pretty soon I'll be ending my postings with a dot on a line by itself. Blegh.

My enthusiasm has died down. I want to read. :P

I love the new book I'm reading. I don't want to put it down. It is more a children's book than most of my literature, but it's very enjoyable. I never knew Disney stole 'The Sword in the Stone' almost totally from him.... T.H. White, "The Once and Future King". Merlyn and Arthur (of course, he's still the Wart now). They just turned into fish and went into the moat.

If I have kids, I'll read this to them. :)

I'm going to put this in my .plan file.... just because.

To devise a plot, or engage in plotting, is to machinate. One who machinates is a machinator.

Heh ... whoops! That's Bradley Whitford who's hot. I think Bradbury Thompson is dead. Damn that Design History, integrating itself into my brain... damn it to hell!!!

Diane Ochi is a fucking genius. I have so much to learn...

I've been fighting with this trash can idea for so long, and it kept getting more and more complicated. How do I solve this problem and this problem and this problem... well, I kept coming up with seperate solutions for each problem. Wrong approach. I talk to Diane and within an hour she has like 10 of my problems fixed, and fixed well. By combining a bunch of solutions - I mean, she did look at one of my sketches and get the idea, but it was totally hers. Sometimes, you know, you're thinking along the same lines as someone else, and you both come up with the idea at once - not so, in this case. All her. Fantastic stuff. Wonderful.

I might actually be able to get this done, and done well. Maybe if I hadn't been slacking off and reading random websites for the last few days, I could have actually gotten something done. I should have talked to her sooner - and done some more sketches. I just came up with a few ideas that came close to working but were kind of a pain in the ass, and figured I was 'done enough'. Then Don came and gave me all these new problems and I kind of abandoned it, but knowing all the while I needed to talk with Diane. So finally I did, and shabam, it's good stuff. I'm halfway there, I just need to finalize the idea, get the details down, and make a decent sketch (yikes) so we can get it to a small metal manufacturer and get it made.

Sometimes I think that everyone would come up with the same ideas I do, but most people don't take the time, or give a shit, to think about the things I think about, in the way I think about them. As in, people complain about stuff, but they never think of how to fix it. And sometimes they don't think it's worth fixing, or they don't even realize that it's a problem until someone else points it out. I'm basically just here to connect a bunch of people, and get them talking to each other, or to me, and combine all of their ideas into something that works. I'm not sure, myself, how much I actually contribute. I may just pick and choose among the ideas that are given and try to decide which ones will work together, and which ones will piss the other group off.

I guess that's a valuable skill in and of itself, but that conceit in me wants to be able to do it *all by myself*. Of course that can't happen, and if it did, it'd be a bad idea. I just have to release my vanity and hopes of doing a save-the-day deal, where I fly in, listen to the problem, fix it, and fly out. That's not how things are done. Not if they're done well, anyway. These people have been here longer, they're more specialized than I am, they've studied or interacted with the problem/product/system/etc for years, and I've only been here for a few weeks. Maybe by providing information that they were unsure of, I can prompt them to give me the right idea.

I dunno. Maybe if I had thought or sketched about this more, I would have come up with the idea. It's staggeringly simple. I can't see how it wouldn't work better than anything else I was thinking about, and certainly better that what's already out there. The only problem is the money. Will Don agree to just build new things instead of retrofitting the old, which will in and of itself be time consuming, expensive, and altogether a waste of time since no one will use it? Where will the money come from? I know maintenance doesn't have any. They need to cut 3/4 of a million dollars from their budget, and it won't be coming back anytime soon. Meanwhile, I'm telling them to buy more expensive products and to replace things that essentially already work (not well, but they are functional). The association can take some of it, since they are doing site furnishings, but traditionally maintenance pays for this stuff. Then there's the SFCC - if I make this a combination recycle/trash bin, will they pull funds/grants to pay for them? How much will they pay? Can they even get the money?? How many cans do we need total? How many now? Where do we need them?

And then, how do we get the trash into the truck...

So many things to think about! Ah! I'm glad, though. Strange, I watched West Wing last night (Bradbury Thompson is so hot - is that his name?) and they were all pissed and defeated about their jobs, until finally the president said, to hell with everyone, I'm doing what I want to do. Which is, of course, what he should do anyway. And they were all happy and set to work with a newfound sense of energy and purpose. I love TV, it's so stupid. ;) But it's strangely reminiscent (sp) of how I feel now... now I know what to do, and what I want to do, and what I'm trying to do, and how I should do it. Well, mostly.

Back to work! Wheeeee!

I nearly pissed myself. Everyone, EVERYONE must read this entire site. Don't do it at work, or if you do, learn to laugh quietly and don't do it where your boss can see your face.

http://www.lileks.com/institute/gallery/index.html

that is all. whooo time to go home!!!

sonofabitch. All of CMUs computers are down, and no one else. damn damn damn damn, to quote enry iggins. and I've got a headache, even though I've eaten... I'm probably dehydrated again. Come to think of it, the only liquid I've had is the milk in my cereal and that yellow cling stuff that comes with canned peaches. Mmmmm.... cling.

Maybe I have a brain tumor... I'm really a mess. My eyes are red and watery, my mouth is just all fucked up, my head hurts... I'm going to have to tell Tom's of Maine to tone down their Cinnamint toothpaste. I can't feel my lips anymore, and I haven't even used it for two days (ew) because it hurts so bad, and I think it's why my mouth tastes coppery. Bitch moan bitch moan..

yayyy free money! Winnie just brought me 130 dollars to pay for transportation. Rawk.

oy, my head. hurts. ow.

I'm researching green cleaners, and seeing what we already use, which I know is harmful both to the environment and to the workers, even though Theron says it's 'green'. Bullshit. Anything with Volatile Organic Compounds or a significant health hazard rating cannot be green. I can't help but think that if it's really bad for us, then it has to be somewhat bad for the environment. I mean, we have watersheds and wetlands and spawning endangered salmon that not only affect the health of animals and plants (which is why we're here anyway), but also the health of our workers and the people who live here.

I'm just worried that they'll say it's not strong enough, doesn't kill enough organisms and viruses. Which I understand, if you disinfect bathrooms all day you want to be damn sure you don't get sick doing it.

Proctor and Gamble are pure evil. EVIIIIIL. I'm researching their toilet bowl cleaner, which I *know* isn't green, and in equal measure with their product websites I get boycott websites from animal rights groups. This shit is horrible, cruel, disgusting.. I'm going to write another letter to Allergan. I don't give a shit if they comply with the animal welfare act, even if it's better than nothing.. they need to stop. I'm sorry, but humans are so much more evil than animals are, and there's fucking six million of us. I don't see why we continue to say that we can't test on humans when we test on animals.

But would you want to be the one tested on, you say? Well, my answer is that we know enough about this shit that we have a pretty good guess about what will be horribly dangerous. If we are forced to come up with new products or chemicals or drugs, there should be many levels of non-animal testing that it goes through first - fake skin, or petri-dish skin, for instance. Then once you're reasonably sure it's safe, test it on humans. The data will be more applicable than testing on freaked out rabbits. I mean, animal testing approved thalidomide, for god's sake. And if pennicilin had been tested on dogs, it never would have gone on the market. Same thing with chocolate. Hellooooooooooo... I would understand a little more if the results were dependable, or if we followed the results very closely, but we DON'T. It's just habit, something to get funding, something to save their asses if something goes wrong.. "Well, the *rats* were okay, so we started a full-scale marketing campaign. How were we supposed to know that it gives babies 3 arms??"

Oh, and mental note - never buy Iams pet food. They killed puppies researching its effects. You know those claims that it 'builds strong bones'? You know how they found that out? They ripped the bones out of the legs of dogs and snapped them in half to see if they were any stronger. There *are* better ways to do that (and no, it doesn't involve breaking the dog's legs when they're still inside the dog.)

Gahhhh, my bleeding heart thunders with rage. Roaaar.

Haaa ha -- at last, the site is up! I, like men with free porn, will never close this window again! Ha ha!

I haven't been able to get to anything cmu related for two days. I'm not sure if this is only my problem or if everyone else is having similar difficulties. If no one can get to my blog, (ha, as if anyone would try), they would be very surprised at the obnoxious amount of posting I've done lately.

The web at work is always spotty.. only some random big sites come up, like grainger and cooking light, but then google is down... wtf? Then it'll switch, I get google but none of the links work. Blegh.

I'm researching which metals to build my trashcans out of - there was some wonderful website I found through howthingswork.com - I think it was.... uh.... corrosionsource.com. It had a way to calculate how materials would react when put in different environments. I assume some of these don't really mean environments... like mayonnaise. I mean, how often is a material going to be completely submerged in mayonnaise?

But anyway, apparently the only metal that they had listed that did not have any reaction with either urine or salt water was BRONZE. I wonder how expensive it is... and how well things like fasteners and such hold up. Expensive trashcans, but they won't rust when they get peed on at the beach!! I always wondered why people had things 'bronzed' and never 'steeled' or 'aluminumed' or what have you. Now I know.

shit. all the sites are down again. How am I supposed to waste my day if I can't do anything online? spllbbbbbt.

at least I have a soundtrack now. I got all my mp3s on this cd and I'm listening to them very very quietly. I knew I should have brought my headphones, then maybe people wouldn't mistake me for the secretary. Is that spelled correctly? It looks like secrete-ary.

sooooo tired. and I have pinkeye. yech.

WTF?? Why are more than half of the blogs I'm reading started within the last couple of days? Was there an article or a sudden worldwide onset of vanity and complaint.... why did everyone in the world suddenly discover Blogger at the same time?

I've been here since January, man... I haven't posted jack shit since then, but still. I feel all 'I knew it before it was BIG' n stuff.

I really have to go home and rest. My knees are killing me and I sound stupid. Well, the latter isn't much of a surprise...

I wonder how all of these people get those wonderful toys.... I must set up a comment thing and a counter and see if anyone actually reads this.... and why...

argh, fucking sucks. cmu servers are all down, or something, god only knows. I'm sure the computer emergency response team is leaping to action...

I made some calls today but still didn't get too much done. I really need to figure out exactly what's going on so I can get as much done as possible. If the welder doesn't call me back tomorrow, I'm going with someone else, unless Don tells me I have to use the welder... I'm sure he works cheaper than $65/hour. Grrrrr. Don't make me come down there, bizatch, give me your welder!!!

I need to learn how to weld. I hope I get into that Art studio course next year - I doubt I'll be welding but I will be doing lost wax casting and small metals... kewl shit.. I hope I don't have to know how to weld for the mixed media part of it. And I didn't get into furniture so I severely doubt Tom will take the time to show me how.

There needs to be more free food, damnit. I have no money & I want a snack.. :( I'm back in that mode where I have breakfast at 6:30, lunch at noon, a snack at 3/4 and dinner at 9, like in high school.

Aggghhh. I wish I could get this project done with a good degree of certainty, but there's so many stakeholders, and so many restrictions, it's hard to think about how I can finish this in a week and a half. If I can meet with a welder I think I can complete a short-term solution, but I need a welder NOW so we can have something figured out by the time I leave. Retrofitting the cans is one good thing... then I can work on the new can design during the coming year, or over break, or maybe I'll just have to come back after I graduate (which is fine with me, heh heh, that means I get a job). But I wouldn't mind completing this successfully, because if I do it'll look kick-ass good on my resume. Which I need, because my drawing skills aren't what they should be, and I'm always late with shit... but I *care*, dammit, doesn't anyone see how much I *care*?!

This cubicle is sucking the life out of me.

Christ Jesus, but some people's resumes are UGLY. I know mine isn't very exciting, but at least I'm not trying to show off any skills I don't possess. I mean, come on people ... yellow marble backgrounds???

It makes me feel a little bit better... but of course, these are business and IS majors, they probably wouldn't know an attractive design if it smothered them. I'm not stereotyping, of course, I'm sure there are a great many business people out there with good taste when it comes to layout, font, colors, etc., most likely better than mine. But you must admit, any industry that uses Microsoft products to the extent that business does.... let's just keep design in the hands of people who know what they're doing, kay? Or at least prevent the poor ignorant masses from using bad design so freely. I mean, whoever came up with those PowerPoint backgrounds needs to be shot.

If I could have my coat permanently attached to my body, I would be very happy.


...except that right now, the collar smells like dog.


hmm.

Oh, I forgot to mention this little frame story...

Last week we went to Safeway, pretty late at night. We stumbled onto the bus, laden with our canvas bags, and collapsed near the front of the bus (it's about 10/15 blocks, not too far). A few stops down, this lady gets on the bus - she's carrying a bunch of shopping bags but doesn't look *quite* homeless. She sits down next to me and asks us for 35 cents. I look at Ayako to see her reaction - she says, "I'm sorry, I don't have any change", very apologetically. I figure this woman is like the guy on BART that's always shouting loudly for 1.10, so I say that I'm sorry, I paid with my credit card (obvious lie). She looks at both of us again, kind of begging, but we're shaking our heads. She turns away and says, "Aw, forget it", and dismisses us with her hand. She then mumbles insults at us under her breath - Bitch, Asshole...

She works her way around the bus, pointing to us and insulting us to everyone. Ayako is watching her, getting pissed. I keep my head towards the window, looking for our stop when we can get the fuck off, away from this crazy mean lady. Suddenly Ayako's mouth opens and her eyes widen, and she flips the lady off, and says, "Fuck you, too!" She turns to me and says, "She flipped me off..." turns to the lady and calls her a bitch. The lady walks by with her change mumbling bitch bitch bitch bitch...

Ayako says plainly, "Look, if you have something to say, say it to my face." The lady continues to mumble insults from across the bus. Ayako asks me if I'm going to take this.. I tell her quietly to drop it, it's not worth it. I'm thinking, this woman is nuts, and you fighting isn't going to do anything but make everyone on the bus uncomfortable, and possibly cause the crazy lady to flip out. It's not worth it. But Ayako doesn't see it that way...

Finally our stop comes and we get off the bus. The crazy bitch calls out, "Have a pleasant evening, bitch!" and cackles. The bus driver tells us to have a nice night at the same time, obviously feeling bad for what happened. When the woman got on the bus he told her she'd better have money, she didn't pay the last time. I didn't hear that, but Ayako told me later.

Ayako's still pissed on our way back, but she's more pissed that I didn't do anything. She can't believe I didn't stand up for myself, or her, who she thought the comments were more directed at, but I knew the crazy bitch was including me in them. We argued about it over the groceries in the kitchen, I telling her my side, she saying that unless you tell those people off, they're just going to keep doing it. I told her I know those people, and they'll just keep doing it anyway. They know exactly what they're doing, they don't give a shit about anyone else, and whatever you say is not going to change them.

We told Leland the story and asked him what he would have done, if he would have told her off. He said, "No way, it's not worth it." Leland rocks. ;)

So anyway, the funny part comes later... yesterday, on Ayako's birthday, she's coming/going to class, and some woman across the street asks her which bus to take to the Rockridge BART. Ayako's not sure, but thinks she should be on a different street. The woman obviously knows what bus to take anyway, and then the woman says, "Oh, by the way, do you have a dollar? I need a dollar." Ayako says, "No, I'm sorry, I don't have any money on me." The woman looks her up and down and starts cursing her out. Ayako realizes... it's the same woman!!

Ayako now realizes that this woman is just doing it for the hell of it, and she doesn't care about anyone else. She's taking people's money because she can, and because she's off her rocker, and she'll keep taking money no matter what. Ayako realizes the patheticness of this, and finds the entire situation highly amusing. She shakes her head and walks off with a bouncy step, leaving the crazy bitch cursing on the side of the street.

Later that day, Jamie asked her if she felt any older. She said, "No, but I did mature a little bit today."

Yesterday was Ayako's 21st birthday.

I was going to take her out to Sausalito for dinner on the Bay, but at the last minute I realized that the only ferry over was also the last ferry. So we'd be stranded.. oh well. We decided to meet in North Beach and try one of the Italian Trattorias in Little Italy. We went to the Mona Lisa - do you know that stupid Uncle Ben's pasta bowls commercial, where this chick with a hoarse voice is badly impersonating Italian? Well, this blond chick dressed in weirdly casual clothes worked at the Mona Lisa and had the same thing going on, inviting us inside - good food, eh? Manga!

Jeez. Well, anyway, we were convinced to come inside because it looked nice and had a big menu. After some hemming and hawing, I managed to get Ayako to order herself a glass of wine. She's never had anything to drink before and largely disdains those who do - even me. But it was her 21st birthday, and she was curious as hell, so it didn't take a lot of convincing. We asked the hot Italian waiter to suggest something, and he brought her a glass of Chianti, I forget the name. Before he brought it out, I was telling her how to taste wine, like my parents do - the swishing and sniffing and finger-looking, and then the taste and nod that it's okay, and *then* they pour. But he just brought out a full glass - maybe that's only when you buy a bottle of wine, or is it different for Chianti...? (I keep thinking of Fava beans and a census taker's liver...)

We ordered our meal - bruschetta to start, and I had cheese ravioli with a walnut cream sauce (very heavy, very dessert-like. I couldn't finish it, even though I had been starving when I sat down.) Ayako downed her mushroom-eggplant and garlic penne, then finished up the last few pieces of my ravioli. She'd already had one glass of wine before the entrees came, though, and after half of it she was flushed and grinning. By the time she finished it, her eyes were bright and watery, her chest was splotchy, and she was acting very strangely, but happy. She kept whipping her head back and forth while I was talking to her, waiting for the rest of the room to catch up, I'm assuming. She wanted another glass. I knew that after one glass she was where I usually was after 2/3 drinks, and I knew another glass was probably not a good idea, especially because she was drinking kind of fast, and obviously this stuff was getting to her, quickly. But she convinced me that she would never drink again after tonight, except maybe on very special occasions, and she might as well go all the way. I didn't want to have to heave her up into a bus or have her pass out on the BART, but finally I gave in. She drank the second glass after dinner, and we had tiramisu - complete with candle and singing waiters, one of whom shook her back and forth as he sang. The tiramisu was huge, but terrific, and we managed to finish it although we were both full.

All of a sudden, she felt really sick. I should have known - she finished the second glass awfully fast. I didn't realize it until she was draining it... plus the rich food, dessert, etc. - she was on the edge of vomiting for about 15 minutes. I waited, got the check, looked around for a bin or plastic bag... she really looked like she was about to hurl. I tried to get her to go to the bathroom, which was a scant 15 feet away, behind us, but she said that she couldn't move. I could see her gagging, I knew exactly what she was feeling. When you really, really, really HAVE to throw up, but you really, really, REALLY don't want to. It's a terrible feeling, and it was the worse for us being in a fancy restaurant. I cleaned out my lunch bag from work and set it on the table. It's bigger than your average barf bag, and it's waterproof. She didn't need it, though. Eventually she put her head down, belched a few times, and seemed to feel a little better (garlic, wine, and vomit - not a good fragrance. Whew!). After about 15 more minutes, she was fine ... and totally sober. I mean, she was fine. She wasn't flushed, her eyes weren't bright, she was completely back to normal. We talked for a while more, I paid the bill ($66.00 for two - not too bad for most people, but there goes 2 weeks of groceries).

They were wiping down the tables and feeding the waiters by the time we left. Ayako was pretty darn sober - still a little out of it, but her conversation and motor skills were pretty close to normal. She had gone through the process of getting drunk, sick, and sober in less than 3 hours. It was like watching New Years Eve in fast forward. It usually takes me about 12 hours to complete that cycle, and 3 times as many drinks (although wine is supposed to be stronger than I thought).

We didn't get home until after midnight. I splurged and set my alarm for seven this morning... she was up studying until 4.

It'll be a nice relief in a couple months when I can stop worrying about all of this foolishness, and taste someone else's wine without being afraid that the waiter will catch me.

Contrary to popular belief, I am NOT a fascist! Instead, I am.... a liberal airhead.

I am rated a 2.7666666666666666 on the F-Scale.

All sarcasm aside, what a fucking surprise. ;)

I was thinking about something while waiting for the bus today - I was wandering around the various blogs on here and I found some girl that was complaining about some random guys that always honked at her on *her* way to the bus. One time she actually went into a store in the little shopping center they always hung out in, and one of the honkers was in there. He asked her in passing if she ever smiled. She, naturally, got pissed off.

This happens all the time to me, and it always pisses me off. My sentiment was pretty much the same as hers - just because I don't walk around grinning like an vapid moron all the time doesn't mean I'm angry, or upset, or sad. It just means I don't currently feel overjoyed about walking down the street on my way to work. It is my natural expression, and if it brings you down, too fucking bad.

So I was thinking about this today and I remembered a similar incident that just left me fuming, although it was much more innocent than honkers hitting on people. I was at Cape Hatteras with my parents, looking around in the gift store. I was having a pretty good time, but I couldn't help but notice this old guy behind the counter, watching me. Finally he spoke up and said something like, "He'll still be there when you get back." I had no idea what the fuck he was talking about, and I had to ask him to repeat it a number of times. "Your boyfriend that you left behind, he'll be waiting for you when you get back. Cheer up, it's okay." He was smiling and joking, but I'm pretty sure he was serious in thinking that I was depressed and missing my boyfriend, when in fact I felt fine and had no boyfriend.

I knew he meant well, so I just smiled tightly and nodded, but I walked away fuming. I could only find negative implications from his statement. Like, 'you're not happy, so you must be missing your boyfriend, because the only way girls can be happy is if they are with a man.' Or perhaps that girls can't be serious and intelligent, they must be giggly and stupid, so there must be something terribly wrong with me if I look like I'm thinking about something. And of course, the only thing that could possibly be wrong is that my boyfriend isn't there. I don't know what it was, but I was pissed for the next hour or so, until I finally told myself to drop it.

Something similar happened when I was working at Bellsouth. My supervisor was this stupid greaseball, who for whatever reason really liked me. He was always trying to get my approval and joke with me, but he did it in the worst way. He kept telling me really nasty dirty jokes, and joking with me about how stupid my coworkers were. I don't care if they didn't know their ass from a hole in the ground, as my supervisor, it was not his place to say that. It was also way out of line to tell me jokes about edible panties, which I didn't get, of course. He made some other innuendos which I coldly pretended not to understand, and luckily he dropped them before I really had to smack him. Anyway, one day he's asking me a whole bunch of inappropriate questions, and he finally gets to the point where I have to tell him I've never had a boyfriend. He's shocked, I mean, totally shocked. Doesn't believe me. He asks incredulously, "Why not?"

I can't even reply. For whatever reason, when he asked that question I was instantly shaking with rage. Shaking. I couldn't trust myself to speak, I couldn't make myself speak. I just had to shake my head and make a dismissive hand gesture, and stop talking to him. I think it was because either he assumed that everyone on earth has to be in a relationship in order to be a real person, or that I have had my pick of guys (that was kind of how he phrased it), and he's surprised I haven't chosen at least one by now.

I'm not going to say I've never been hit on, but I will say that I have never been hit on by anyone that had even the remotest possible thing in common with me. I think one of the reasons I was so pissed at Luis was because he seemed not to notice that I'm not very attractive, and am still somewhat uncomfortable and self-conscious in social situations, which is the main reason my celibacy has been more from chance than from choice, although I'd like to think if I was given the choice I'd still be okay.

I know that there are a lot of women out there who are more attractive, have better social skills, and are more intelligent or talented, or have a more engaging personality. But is it too much to ask that just once, somebody that I find even slightly attractive, whose had some similar level of education or possesses a near level of the same kind of intelligence, who is not a total loser, tries to strike up a conversation with me? I'm not asking for a date here. I just want someone to talk to who doesn't scare, repulse, or annoy me. I mean, really, too much to ask? I get along with a lot of people, I know I'm not totally repulsive or scary or annoying. I just wish one of the random people that talk to me while I'm waiting for the bus had anything in common with me. Speaking the same language would be a plus, too.

Anyway, I think Luis' comment pissed me off so much because he has absolutely no idea that most other girls my age, where I live, are as or more intelligent, talented, and educated than I am, and most are more physically attractive. I'm not saying that I can't live with that. It was just the fact that he didn't think that it makes life just the slightest bit more difficult for me, mentally and emotionally, and just naturally assumed that my social life comes as easily to me as it does others - well, it was a very mild version of asking a blind man why he's never been to a photography exhibit.

Well, that's enough ranting for now. Damn it, now I'm feeling all militant. Grrr.

Wow, it's been a while. I know, I know, I always say that.

Anyway, I made it out to San Francisco. I've been living in Berkeley, lo these 2 months, and am preparing to go back to the East Coast (shudder, gag) and return to school (sob). My parents are coming to visit next week so that gives me something to do....

I really must ask for my computer to be removed from my desk. I get absolutely no work done. I think I might actually get more work done if I'm at home, where I can sketch, but then if I need to meet with anyone, I can't. I really need to talk to my boss but he's always busy, and then he leaves. I really got absolutely nothing done today. I mean nothing. I feel bad, but this is how I work... work hard for a couple of weeks. Slack off until right before the project is due. Miraculously pull something halfway successful out of my ass. Sleep for two days. That's what I do!! I can't help it.

I've been reading my past blogs and discovered that stress and lack of sleep make me a more interesting person than does boredom. I suppose that makes sense, but dammit, no one posts to my bboard. I think I'm annoying everyone.

It's almost time to go home... I'm taking Ayako out to dinner for her 21st birthday. I think we'll take a ferry over to Sausalito and dine on the waterfront... y'know, it's odd. Yesterday Leland was reading some reader comments in San Francisco magazine (Leland and Jamie are our roommates in Berkeley, from CMU. ) Some jerkwad was complaining about the negative effects of the 'gay lifestyle'. From living with Leland and Jamie, apparently the 'gay lifestyle' is going to school, occasionally renting a movie or shopping in town, cooking all their own meals (unhealthy breakfasts and healthy, garlic soaked dinners), watching TV and hanging out. I'm sure if you substituted 'working 40 hours a week' for 'going to school', you'd get the average 'gay lifestyle', which is exactly the same as any other lifestyle that I know of, except perhaps more healthy. My sister has a similar lifestyle except she works a lot more and eats out constantly. My other sister smokes pot and goes out drinking instead of anything else, and doesn't cook anything that doesn't come out of a box. It sounds very similar to my parents' life, actually, but with less yardwork, tennis, and hospital visits. And more garlic. Always more garlic.

Ayako and I rarely leave the apartment except for work/school. Yesterday we went to the Japanese tea gardens. Ayako got really offended. It's very commercialized, very cheap imitation, very NOT Japanese. The kimonos were ugly, the tea was expensive, the garden was too deliberate. There was hardly any moss on the stones, and I only saw one koi. (Yes, that's my little contribution to cultural ignorance.)

Everyone's gone except me, so I'm going to listen my mp3s on these harman/kardon speakers here. Bwaaahahahahaa.

I can't believe how little work I've done in the last few days. I really should be bitchslapped.

All this job is is a free computer with fast internet connection and 40 hours of free time. It's the government, so if I accomplish anything at all they're impressed and think I'm doing a lot of work.

But I really need to call these people back... and finish these projects. I think I can get something pretty well done in the next couple of weeks, I just need to get my ass in gear. Can you tell I feel guilty about this? Argh. Lazy ass.

On our way back from GGPark yesterday we rode the bus - #71. It goes straight through Haight-Ashbury, which was our first time seeing it. Really fucking cool place, I wouldn't mind sharing a victorian with a handful of other people there. Crazy ass stores and people, like Berkeley but less collegiate. And Telegraph is getting a little mainstream now. Eh.

But anyway, these 3 guys came on the bus and sat down across from Ayako and I. One was carrying a retro golf bag he had obviously bought at one of the resell shops. Another guy was wearing checkered jeans - they looked handmade, from dark and light jeans, with a lot of strings hanging off. I forget what the other guy looked like, he was too far to my right. Anyway, they were HOT. Funky, appearance-driven, and HOT. Pretty sure they weren't gay, they were acting too stupid and ogling the Asian tramps that got on the bus a few stops later. On the way, I noticed (behind the hotties) an old car partially embedded into the side of an auto-repair shop. I pointed it out to Ayako but I think one of the hotties was in the way, cuz it took her forever to see it.

After we got off the bus (to go to a defunct vegetarian restaurant), Ayako said, "Were you thinking the same thing that I was about those three guys across from us?" I said, "What, they were funky and hot?" Ayako gushed, "They were SO cute!" Apparently she thought that I was pointing out a fake store to give her an excuse to stare at the hotties, until she saw the embedded car. Hopefully I'm as good at hiding my interest as she was, because I had no idea. Later that night we got on a different bus and apparently there were 3 hot Italian guys, but I missed them. :~( We pondered about why hot guys travel in groups of 3. I figured, if you see a pair of hot guys in San Francisco, what's your immediate reaction? Gay. Hot guys probably don't travel alone because their friends know that they will attract chicks, or at least make them easier to approach. But I wonder, is the Bay Area so saturated with hotties that the hot guys don't have ugly friends? Usually, they're like boy bands - one or two attractive ones, an average one, and two stinkers. But *all* these guys were hot. Different degrees of hotness, to be sure, but still... mmmm.

On a similar note, there was a young male type person on my bus this morning. Usually it's all middle aged commuters so my interest is peaked whenever a guy younger than 25 is on the bus. He had a shaved head... he reminded me of my cute little compact hottie that will not be here next year. There is one less delicious little ass in America. We should all mourn.

Y'know, if I'm going to keep objectifying men as sex-objects, I should make myself more attractive. But exercise is so... painful and ... time consuming. It's so much easier to *pretend* I'm attractive, and dream that Russel Crowe and Hugh Jackman are fighting over me.

I know, I know, I have a vivid imagination. Well, with my life, I have to.

I should do something useful today. I'll call back all those people I don't really want to talk to and leave voicemail, so that I *have* to return their calls tomorrow morning. Yeah. And stop this goddamn blog before it gets out of control!!!