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Everything's Best Users Snapshot

Users                  XP wa7 inc   l_XP l_wa7
Pseudo_Intellectual 13225 141 165  13060 137
jessicapierce       11129  63 146  10983  49
dem bones           11115  46  51  11064  45
DMan                 9849 163 142   9707 167
pukesick             8692  49  25   8667  53
Saige                8201  87 121   8080  81
RockLobster          3025  80  77   2948  80
Lord Brawl           2963   7  16   2947   5
sabre23t             2909  63  64   2845  63
Xamot                2861  16   7   2854  18
artfuldodger         2834  13  13   2821  13
Kit Lo               2734   2   3   2731   2
EBU #50              2734  42   3   2731  48 

Server time: 01:40 Fri Jun 2 2000 TZ +0100 not UTC since May 26, 2000

l_ = last (previous) value; inc = increase in stats value
wa7 = ((stats + (6 * l_wa7))/7) = weighted average with denominator 7

Random Nodes

JessicaPierce is also back actively noding/voting as Saige do. I have just achieved XP requirements for Level 8, but have still 117 writeups to get Level 7. NFN? ;-}

Nodes to node

Well, the secret is out. Only one other Everythingian knew, as far as I was aware, until last night. The disclosure came as the result of my having read a node that was just plain wrong. It was about my husband. This situation was a prime example of the importance of checking one's facts. Besides, it's a smaller world at times than most of us realize. One never knows who has been, or may turn up on E2.

For the record, he absolutely is not Lloyd Blankenship and, no, I will not give anyone any info about my sweetheart beyond what I may include while doing general noding. (People have already asked for his email addy, etc.)

This was a public service announcement on behalf of Those Were Not His Last Words.
Ponder, ponder.
I'm getting more and more obsessed with the idea of getting a tattoo, and I'm fairly certain about the design: a thin vertical black strip, about half an inch wide and three inches long, placed maybe an inch to the left of my breastbone.
I wonder if there is some way to make a non-permanent tattoo-like dyeing just to check out what the real thing would look like. Of course, I could make a real tattoo and lase it when I get bored of it, but the cost, the cost of such a venture...
Discussed tatto trial techniques with heyoka.


Fixed a typo in my sweet writeup and added some things to the Alessi node.

Update 19:24 - I tried out the abovementioned design. It looks very neat, except from the fact that the writing utensil i nicked wasn't up to par at all - too wide tip and it stopped working halfway through the filling-in bit of the operation. I still believe in the idea, though - the design is good even if my implementation wasa failure.

Today's Soundtrack: An extremely sucky remix of the original Mission: Impossible theme made by some of the folks in my old dorm. CDNOW, I need those CD's and I need them NOW!


I have to go to the psyco anal ist today, please note the intentional spacing.

I think there is a code amongst psychatrists that is hardcoded into their brains that goes something like this
while (NOTHING_WRONG == 1) {
cout >> "It's your mother."

Shawn "Puffy" Combs might be going to jail for 5 years, and his girlfriend, Jennifer Lopez definately wants to have his child so Puffy is doing what any man in his situation would do. Hes freezing his... uh, sperm.

The television show Survivor is the worst thing ever put on television. ever. We already did this with Road Rules and it's just not intresting anymore. Not to mention the concept that the unpopular people get kicked off. As Jon Stewart said in an interview with the woman first kicked off the island,

"I'm not a huge fan of cannibalism, and I know that usually it's 'our plane crashed in the andes and we had to eat one guy', but seriously, on the first night, you should have eaten all those bastards."
Go figure:
After two days of feeling like someone stabbed me in the stomach, drilled through my skull in an effort to pick my brain, and shoved razors down my throat, I finally feel better. I do not believe there is anything worse than being so sick that it hurts to move. This is the 4th year in a row that I have gotten sick in the beginning of summer.

Mmmmm... sunshine:
It's a perfect day (weather wise). The sun is shining and there are only a few puffy clouds in the sky. Unfortunately I'm sitting here at a desk staring at my monitor, something which I will continue to do until 5PM. However, it is Friday so I can't really complain. Something tells me this weekend is going to be filled with great things.

Things to do today:

It seems a portion of the new Michael Douglas film 'Traffic' is being shot just outside the building I work in. I suppose it's kind of cool because Cincinnati doesn't get in movies too often ('In too Deep' and 'Rainman' are the only one's I can think of off the top of my head). I also heard that they were shooting on Vine Street inches away from where I live. I'm not a big Douglas fan but it's nice to see the city you live in on the silver screen.
There's a hopscotch board of ludicrous length stretching its gangly chalked body across the lot i cut through on my way to work. It must go up to 43 or so, but unfortunately it's not going my way, so i skip through 10 to 14, slap it on the flank and say sorry, honey, but you know i'll be back this way. It flashes me a look as i mount the trail to the train tracks.

The one-eyed cat is hanging around my neighborhood again. He's frequently accompanied by the grey-stripe i call "Nervous Energy Boy", as i imagine them to be a formidable crime-fighting team: Odin and Nervous Energy Boy. They're kinda aloof, though.

Dan slept on the porch last night just to prove some kind of passive-aggressive point, but since i didn't come out to bring him in, he crawled into my bed this morning at about 3. I pretended to remain asleep, because i wanted to be asleep. I had nothing to say to him in the morning, as he pretended to be asleep. Sometimes things are better than people.

Today Mike came to work with a scary blue marionette named Mr. Happy. We went to the Olive Garden for lunch, but Mr. Happy stayed in the car.

Today is the beginning of my vacation. Oddly enough, I'm doing what I usually do at work -- listening to music, noding and waiting for either the phone to ring or something to go down. Those two go hand in hand as well. Somebody's lease line or router goes down and then the phone rings. When I notice a line is down I take the phone off the hook and claim we run voice over IP. We don't, but who's gonna tell?

Last vacation I started my PERL larval stage. I wonder what I'll do this year? Some guesses...

BUMP UPDATE: Well, the lost-a-fight-with-the-floor explanation is getting old... but I hate to tell people I had a nosebleed and fainted. On the upside - the thing isn't so awfully big and purple-yellow-grey as I thought it would be and it does look rather roguish in a sexy way. Someone actually said that (okay, so I did go out last night...).

WORK UPDATE: Company still failing. Money lasts til end of July in optimistic scenario. Only one super-talented person quit this week. People having lots of wild and crazy ideas about what to do (this is a good thing).

Today I got really stressed out. While driving home, I saw a mountain. Then I knew that - just maybe - everything will be okay. I felt better.

22:32 EET

Downtown Hämeenlinna was outright packed today. Probably due to the national holiday yesterday, the traffic was really bad all around. Snce I was going to visit the post office, I stayed on the bus for one extra stop. But the street was nearly gridlocked, and it would've been faster to walk the few blocks. But at least I made it to the post office without getting hit by a truck and got my minidisc walkman. Which is a great small device Btw.

We had a nice lunch with a bunch of other guys from the office. I'm not sure if it counts as male bonding - we didn't start yelling Wazzuuuuuup?! or anything - but we had a good time plus a tasty meal. I had never even been to that particular diner, which turned out to be a splendid place.
Maybe we should try to end all theracism in the world just by forcing the racist dumbasses to eat at a good restaurant run by foreigners.

The day hasn't been all peachy. I've been a bit tired and cranky the whole evening, and lost my nerves at my mom and sister for keeping too much noise. Some people just can't understand that when a person is tired with a headache, he/she could maybe appreciate some peace & quiet.

I Just saw an interesting report by a researcher from the department of social policy at The University of Tampere. It backs up the theory that cannabis isn't that harmful and alcohol is actually a more dangerous substance. I haven't seen many studies on this subject released in Finland, and this one really didn't hold anything back. More scientific papers like this and we might hopefully see positive changes in our nation's nazi politics some day.
I just hope the author doesn't get into trouble for releasing this kind of information into the public. It would not be the first time...

Strange days indeed. Back from the South, back from the Strawberry Bluegrass festival, back from the sleepy haze of last night. Getting it on with the resumé. Getting the word out. Propping up the sky with two-by-fours. Hoping the psychopharmaceuticals help.

I have lost my ability to node. Seriously. This is my first new node since "Like No Place Else", on May 17, 2000. More than 2 weeks without the slightest hint of inspiration. It is time for some radical therapy.

Inspiration Therapy ingredients:

1 Weekend at a house in a secluded location in the White Mountains
Beer (optional)
Assorted good, strange friends
Gorgeous, sassy girlfriend

I hope it works.

Today was a fine day indeed. I woke up to earth-shatteringly loud music (having used 'at' and 'mpg123' to turn my computer into the world's most elaborate alarm clock), bathed, shaved, and got into my one good suit. Then I took the bus up to the Space Telescope Science Institute on the campus of Johns Hopkins University. Actually, I got off at the wrong stop and ended up having to hike around the northern end of Wyman Park (which runs pretty seamlessly into the Hopkins campus) and back onto the campus -- no fun on a Baltimore summer day while wearing a wool suit. I was swearing the whole time, both from the heat and from fear that I would be late for my interview.

As soon as I got inside STScI, though, I felt much better. Not only did they have powerful air conditioning, but the wall clock showed that I was actually five minutes early. I signed in, and one of the people I was to meet with came to get me.

I met with a group of three men there, and they told me about the work they need done. They asked me a few questions about my background and skills, and seemed to like the answers. Enough to offer to buy me lunch, anyway. I grabbed my friend Christy (who works in the bowels of the Institute) and they rounded up a few available astronomers. Then our group (now swelled to eight souls) proceeded to a nearby French restaurant.

It was a little awkward at first, but some of the astronomers started telling funny war stories about various observatories where they had worked and everyone loosened up a little. I made a few contributions to the conversation myself. The food was delicious.

We all walked back to the Institute and two of the men I'd met with earlier offered me a job. This made my day--actually, it made my decade, just about. I have been trying to get a job there for about two years now, and this is the first time I'd even gotten so much as a return phone call. I accepted on the spot, and filled out a little paperwork. As soon as that's processed (in maybe a week) I'll be working there.

I then walked to my friend John's house, not far from there, and listened to him and Greg make music while I read a book by Timothy Leary. Then Greg and I walked home, where I found out that I received a postcard out of the blue from the most likely HARMLESS Segnbora-t.

So I had a good day.

Added to my road trip thing again. I think it's getting progressively more boring, really. Heh. Oh well. Found my two favorite road trip tapes, one made for me by Starrynight, who has impeccable taste in nearly everything but especially in music, and one I made for a trip up to Kansas City last year. That one has various j-pop (mostly Globe), instrumental/surf music, and trip hop. Duane Eddy's Forty Miles of Bad Road was perfect for driving through curves of the desert... Tomorrow I'll make it into San Francisco. Yay. Then the hunt for an apartment begins. Yikes.

Today was my favorite kind of day. I woke up to the sun shining through my window. I could hear the birds sweetly singing and my alarm clock was not buzzing. I could feel a gentle breeze coming through and with the breeze the sweet smell of coming rain. As I lay in bed I could feel the air getting cooler and the birds quieter. I decided to go downstairs and make myself some breakfast.

As I was waiting for my Chicken n Broccoli Lipton Noodles and Sauce to finish nuking I eagerly checked my Everything account. I was happy to see that I had gained experience in those few short hours since I last logged off. I began node surfing til I heard the ding of the mic.

When I reached the kitchen I glanced out the window and saw the difference in the sky. The breeze had picked up considerably, the trees now bending slightly against it. The sky had darkened and the birds were silent. And I head the first rumblings of thunder.

I have always loved thunderstorms. It almost always storms on my birthday, it being in July. And suppose being a cancer, a water sign, might contribute to my love of the rain, thunder and lightning.

Suddenly it was pouring and I found myself scrambling to shut the windows. I ran upstairs and found the papers on my desk to be already soaked, but I didn't mind. As I was closing the window I caught sight of my favorite old sweatshirt lying on the closet floor, the neckline so stretched out that it won't stay on the hanger. I put it on, grabbed my book on the way out and headed for the porch.

As I was sitting there, all warm and cozy, the thunder roaring, I silently celebrated my quickness in closing all the windows in the house. I often get so caught up in my love affair with electrical storms that I forget to close the windows, and it was then that I remembered that I had left my car window open!

Missed my doctor's appt. today, on purpose.

The heat index was 100 and there was an ozone warning. It's nice out right now, though. Working third shift means that I can go out for (brief) walks in the dark, while it's pleasantly warm and not oppressively hot. Then, unless I have pissy, obligatory things to do, I can go home and stay out of the sun. Aside from that, I only have to deal with these day shift assholes for no more than 30 minutes a day, if at all. There are several that are just unbelievably annoying and of course they have to fuck with me. It's like I'm on the goddamn school bus again. And I let them to to a far enough extent that I'm disappointed in myself, which I can't stand. So I'm resentful towards them for fucking with me, and I'm critical of myself for being such an amoeba about it. And I get uncomfortable at work and question my locus in the company and everything else. (Maybe I should question a locust instead. "Think of me when you look to the night sky...")

This brings to mind a quote (from a Mark Leyner book):

"Because of these murders, the whole Tai Chi community
is very tense. And we hate being tense. And we hate
ourselves for hating something. And we can't stand the
anxiety that brews in the self-hatred. So we're all
really unbalanced."

All right, what else. We watched John Hughes' voice-over of Ferris Bueller's Day Off, which was pretty thorough. Last night I ordered Season 1 of the X-Files on DVD. After that (you can tell what an overachiever I am), I read more Koontz. His Christopher Snow series, Fear Nothing and Seize the Night, rocks. A good distraction from Cisco foo.

Hm. I saw a shooting star or comet or one of those Iridium satellites blazing down near the airport on the way to work. I made a wish. If the fez ever becomes a Senator, you have me to thank.

I was on my walk, strolling in the woods, when I came upon a rubbish pile. I stood, shaking my head, looking at the empty packs of processed food, the discarded clothing, the magazines and VHS cassettes. I dislodged a cassette, rolling it over with my foot. "1992 Winter Olympics." Another, "Tales from the Crypt." From between last month's news, and a shiny collection of swimsuits, "BUY! BUY! BUY!" and bad advice, an always familiar surface called out to me. Grasping the grimy, coated cloth cover, (you know, that same cover that most hardbacks used, before the bottom line sank below the customer) I pulled it free. I was expecting some collection of short stories by whomever knew the right person, some particular month in 1964, or a scripture perhaps. But no! The gold lettering was worn, but it still stood out rather well on the maroon title bar: COMPLETE WORKS - WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE. I guess it's true what they say: "one man's trash, is another man's treasure."

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