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Time: Thu, 23 Nov 2000 00:20:37 GMT
Everything server: Apache/1.3.9 (Unix) Debian/GNU mod_ssl/2.4.10 OpenSSL/0.9.4 mod_perl/1.21_03-dev

Number of nodes: 757744 (853 new since November 22, 2000 [768.0 wa7])
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JeffMagnus node count: 4052 (0 new since November 22, 2000)
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JeffMagnus node of the day: God

I have the weirdest journalism teacher ever. She gave out an assignment on magazines today, requiring us to research the style, target audience, etc. of magazines in a certain genre. With 45 minutes left in class, she decided that the best use of time would be for our whole class to go on a field trip to the local Indigo store. However, some people had to be back at school right at the end of class, and not everyone could drive, so only 3 of us ended up insisting on going. Somehow, we managed to convince her that we would make good use of our time if we went and so she let us walk out of class 40 minutes early. Surprisingly enough, we actually went to the bookstore, but with a twenty minute stop at Yogen Fruz for some frozen yogurt.

I guess I should explain my teacher. She is the same woman who once ate chalk in class because I had made a sarcastic remark about how good it must taste with sugar (you had to be there). She bit right into the stick of chalk, licked her lips, tasted the chalk, then proceeded to eat the entire piece. So the fact that she let three of us wander the streets of Toronto under the guise of research is understandable...

... but it still made my day.

These days, it is slackery overdrive.

Project Goosefood is going ... I don't know, it is going very fast, very directly towards a red brick wall, topped with broken glass. This way, even if the wall were to give, the glass would rain on all of us (the unlucky staffers --- think of geeks riding in a convertible), and do grisly things.

Seeing that our gig is rapidly going down, even the unflappable Miss Nice is getting depressed. Recently she went into a three-day weekend jag of drinking and smoking. This means that yesterday she was cutely exhausted. Still nice as ever. But her professionalism is proving not to be the iron-cladding she thought it; this place has a way of etching its ways into you.

The Lesser Kahuna is acting a bit random. I keep her as happy as possible. Recently, in a fine example of Mexican Democracy we were invited to "give our contribution" to another smelly fuckup ... I went to a couple of meetings, and, seeing that I had nothing to contribute, I left that to good cares of Engineer Moleman. He enjoys sitting around at meeting and saying things, and looking in charge. Good for him.

Surrealism abounds. They show me a network map showing ATM over OC-3 microwave links, 135 Megabits/second. Says I "Cool". Says the dude "Yes, and then we have the switch, and the tape robot and this and that ...".
I was impressed. Subsequently, I realized that:

  1. After doing a somewhat belated line of sight analysis, they had realized that the microwave antenna dish needed to be 65 meters (200 feet) in the air: but the architects warned them that the building would fall to the ground, if they tried to stick that on top (did I mention that this is Mexico City, were earthquakes are not a fear: they are a certainty ?). So they decide to build a big honking tower that today, 1 day after the official ribbon cutting with the Really Important Man and his God-Boss, is still at the stage of foundation block !!!
    So you ask, how did we do the demo ? With 3 Mbit spread spectrum links. Of course, three piddling megabits are not a lot for a place that wants to do streaming video. Which in turn means, that the inauguration was just a show, and operation will begin in February, with luck.
  2. The tape robot is really *cool*. It is a pity that it currently contains only about 400 Gigs of tapes, being good for, like, one thousand times that.
  3. They don't have engineers ! They don't have computer scientists ! or system administrators ! Who do they think will keep the machines up, the Tooth Fairy ?
My SO is in a sour mood, because her back is acting up again. We have a guest, these days, which brings much happines to our house.
A friend of mine is going to do a PhD in New York or in San Francisco --- I deeply envy him. I am still in time for doing something similar, but I wonder if I have the ability to decide.

Good things: someone lent me the Propaganda - A Secret Wish CD. I listened to it, and was happy.
Yesterday rained, even if it is not the rainy season.
I am looking for a job. Do you have a job for a Unix/Linux/Internet/Web dude ? Write to me at baffo@orbis.org.mx. I hope this is not in violation of Everything policies.

What else ? A William Yeats poem !

Wine comes in at the mouth
And love comes in at the eye:
That's all we shall know for truth
Before we grow old and die.
I lift the glass to my mouth,
I look at you, and I sigh.
Today I made the stupid mistake of following through the "punch thyself" node. It was educational, though painful.

"You have really nice veins," the surgeon said.

I didn't want to be there. I had just put up with a month or so of this kind of thing, and while that enough should've been sufficient to disuade me from getting further surgery in my mouth, there was also the matter of the release form which was floating in front of my eyes for most of the night:

General anaesthesia may be fatal
Do not eat or drink anything, even water, for six hours before your surgery, as this may also prove fatal

Cute.

Cute enough to keep me awake despite being exhausted from yesterday's cross-continental flight. Cute enough to keep me tossing in bed aching, yearning for just one. sip. of. cool. cool. water.

At four in the morning I cheat and take a sip of cranberry juice. This is not out of rebellion: this is out of cowardice.

In preparation for my coming days of incapacitation, I have secured for myself: 10 cans of fruit (in fruit-ish sauce), 20 boxes of Jell-O, a couple gallons of cranberry juice, a few jars of applesauce, the last half of Cowboy Bebop on DVD, a copy of The Long Halloween (which I end up reading instead of thinking about the impending demise that surely awaits me), the Woody Allen spy classic What's Up, Tiger Lily?, the predominantly unheard of Peter Sellers film The Millionairess, and a strange RTS named Sacrifice.

When the time to leave my apartment rolls around, I wake up my ride (a friend who crashed on my couch for the night... god bless selfless people who will give you a lift to your deathbed) and prepare myself for the sobering shock of a chilly Massachusetts morn.

We arrive at the dentist, I with my paranoia and he with his old pocket book copy of Don Delillo's Americana. I finish signing some forms, write out a cheque covering the surgery, and then am led into a white room. I get the feeling they're going to play relaxing images from days of yore on a screen in front of me, then process me into Soylent Green after they off me, but instead they hook me up to an EKG and take my blood pressure (117/80, if I remember correctly). The doctor comes in and mysteriously complements me on the size of my veins. "They're enormous," he says. "You're a medical student's wet dream." Did he actually say wet dream? No. That has to be influenced by the gas.

Oh, the gas. Ah, yes. As they turn it on, I stop panicing and instead focus on the machine that goes ping in the corner of the room. Before I go under, I am thinking that I want a large nurse to move so I can see exactly what my heartrate is (an average of 72, better than I thought).

I wake up in a world made of rubber. There's an annoying elasticity to the ground beneath me, and my head refuses to stay upright. My vision curves around the edges. As my friend is handing me my jacket, I start wondering how they woke me up. Smelling salts? How do they do that?

There are blank spots. I don't remember the ride home. I don't remember walking upstairs to my apartment. I do remember removing my gauze after a while. I do remember my pal telling me that he has to leave. I think I remember thanking him, but who knows if it was at all coherent.

After falling asleep again, I wake up to an empty house. It is two in the afternoon. The general anaesthetic is still in effect, but I feel a dull pain in my left cheek. I look in the mirror:

,,,
o-o
c
( - |

Professional artist's rendition of my reflection. Not to scale. Void in Tennessee.

My left top wisdom tooth, the severely impacted one, must've been a bitch to pry out, because that's what's giving me the most trouble. My right side is relatively painless.

So here I am and, despite a very pleasant visit from the illustrious ms. ansate, I'm bored. I want a lollypop. I want my drugs (Percodan, not fun fun Vicodin, though I have a couple of those left over) to kick in sooner. I want to be numb around the edges. I want the world to be nitrous fuzzy.

I think that's it. That's all I want. Blurry days and candy on sticks.

Thursdays I find are rather strange.

I don't remember much about what happened today at school at all.

I wonder if the teachers hypnotised me and made me forget.

I really think Telstra should hurry up and get their bloody cable fixed. Stupid company.

back | days | forth

Family Matters

I contacted some of my estranged family last night to tell them that I was engaged to a gorgeous, wonderful girl. See, dear reader, my Mother has broken off pretty much all contact with her sisters and mother over the past couple of years. Anyway, I wanted my aunts, two of whom I am very fond of, to know about my happy news. I phoned the second youngest, Rosemary, on Sunday and she returned the call last night after sending Dana and I an engagement card.

Yes, Where are our engagement cards, dammit? You'll all have to hurry to catch the last post before Christmas; my address is on my homenode :-)

Rosemary asked me to phone my Grandmother (maternal) and tell her my news. I did so, and she was thrilled (as I had hoped) and asked me the usual questions about Dana: How old, Appearance, location, etc, etc. I took this opportunity to ask her about the circumstances surrounding my birth and how my Mother and Father got together. I had heard a very bitter version of this story from my Mum, so I wanted to get another side of events. It turns out that my Mum completely glossed over the truth (read, lied) and made my conception out to be some kind of brief encounter when she was 15. My Grandmother's version is somewhat different: my Mum was dating my Dad when she was 13 (He was 20!) and was very resentful that my Grandmother had asked her to look after her younger sister while my gran was out working. At 15, allegedly, my Mum left disappeared for 3 weeks to live with my Father; after the police were involved (sex with a 15 year old girl being illegal, duh) my Mum returned home still very much in love with my Father. This was about 9 months before I was born. As time passed she realised she was pregnant and a little after her 16th birthday, I was born.

So, my Grandmother's version of events. I probably won't confront my Mother about this just yet; she is quite ill and I really don't want to stress her out. How do I feel about being lied to? Well, rather neutral; I understand the reasons why she would lie to me, my mother is still full of hatred for my father. (they split up when I was eight, only after four years of marriage) However, this encourages me to look for my Father, to try and find out his version of events. But I know that if my Mum ever found out I had spoken to him, she would never forgive me, and may never speak to me again.

I also phoned Pauline, my favourite aunt (I wrote a node about her once: My Aunt) She was thrilled, both to hear me call, and to hear my news (which she had already heard on the sister grapevine) She asked whether or not I would be able to take Dana up to meet her; I said maybe, and we left it at that. I'm a bit worried for Dana; she will be bombarded with my friends and family in a strange country, she will have to cope with the different scenery and weather and she will have to cope with me! :-)

Hmm, what else is happening? I have a resume/CV now, so I will have something to give to the IBM HR people at the job fair tonight. I'm a bemused to see all the things I have done at Sony over the past four years written down on paper. Mark looked it over, and was impressed by my XML/XSL work on documenting IDL files. Isn't it nice to be have genuine compliments about something you've done (and not been recognised for) in the past?


maybe more later, peeps

14:14

::yaaaawns::

Woke up a hour ago.

Talked with foxes yesterday, played U7 in Linux (weird stuff to be noded later), and such.

More stuff to happen later, at the moment, I'm reading through Usenet...

15:37

Phew!

They had accepted the fateful digital media 6th excercise afterall... Now I don't need to tangle more with that Profiler thing. I hope they will NEVER use that hideous mess as our web learning environment, it was so frustrating and annoying... =)

19:54

Got new Mozilla... and the bookmarks in the damn thing are Just Simply Broken. Grrrr. Filed bug report. Perharps too fast, I talked of taskbar when I meant personal toolbar, blah... I'm an idiot... =(

At least sidebar bookmarks work...

20:27

I'm tired. I need a hug.

22:13

::sigh::

23:44

I wonder why TextFiles.com doesn't have a Gopher server? gopher.textfiles.com... now that would sound cool - and highly appropriate, too!

OK, I'm tired, time to leave and it shall, NYES, it shall, be a new day tomorrow!


Other day logs o' mine...

Noded today by y.t.: TiMidity MISSINGNO E2-related browser tips Xenix (supplementary)

Updated: Slithering Perl Horrors

So what's new? Someone or 2 (or more?) has noticed that I moved my "history of the world" logs to World History Calendar. So far all I've got up is january, will work on february sometime today, but one month of nodes takes me about a week to write, so it'll be a bit before it's complete.

In other news, I finally made my way to level 4, and got my C! to give away! YAY! C! C! C!!!!!!!!

And whatelse... Oh yeah, I'm sick, got a cold, that sucks since i cant taste anything and have no appitite now... of all the days to get sick huh? :(
Well, I think I'll live, infact I feel better today than I did yesterday at this time, so we'll see. Anyways I dont have a whole hell of a lot to write about yet, as it's only 8:30 but if something comes up it'll be known here or #everything :)
-doug

Today was the second interview with CHUM Radio, and they tag teamed me again.

The first time, it was in a small office, in a cozy little environment with the HR people for new media, and the head of the webstuff... Joking around, asking questions, playing with computers. This time, it was in the two-dozen-person boardroom, with a projector so that I might walk the personnel manager through my websites, and the creative process employed in their creation, as well as the application of usability techniques.

It was rough, but I think I made it.

They want me to do twenty banner ads over the next week from home, on twenty different music genres they’ve provided me with. Not products, or websites, but music genres. Interesting hiring process.

This work is paid, and if they like what they see at the end of a week, or however long it takes me to finish the project... Then all is well, and I imagine I will be gainfully employed.

...

Richard just got confirmation of his job at Nortel, but it doesn’t start until the new year. He is unimpressed.

He thinks that we’re like red superman, and blue superman. We’re both leet, and empowered with all kinds of mega-abilities, but we can’t both use them at the same time. If job things are going well for me, they’re going poorly for him. When my love life kicks in, his goes dry. When he’s on a killer design streak, I can’t even make boxes in photoshop.

We even have pairs of glasses we can use to hide our identities in public. No-one seems to notice me behind geekboi rims.

...

Soon, I will know what’s going on. Soon.
16:10 GMT

It's cold again. Ok, so it's not 40º, but still cold enough that my extremities are numb. I am having trouble getting motivated today. I just woke up about a half-hour ago. I have to get moving so I can go up to my parent's house (90 miles north of here) for thanksgiving. I seem to have a more negative mood this morning, either because of that or just because I'm feeling lonely again.

I don't know how long I'm going to stay up there. I have a hard time sleeping in their house due to the noise. I guess I got used to the quiet in my apartment. That's sort of backwards from what you'd expect, but my parents live across the street from a train track, and they have a lot of pets. My apartment has walls that are all made of concrete, so I rarely hear my neighbors, and I haven't received any complaints from them yet for any noise I make.

[>-stretch-<]

Oh well.. I'm going to go do some stuff before I leave. I don't know if I'll be back again today, so this daylog may be a short one.


08:01 GMT Sat Nov 25 2000

I'm writing here now becuase I didn't have a chance to do so earlier. I got a call right after I finished writing the above, from my mom checking if I would be there soon, since they were going to start dinner in an hour. That's like 1pm! I thought that I would have some time to get up there, but I guess not. I was holding everyone up. Bah.

So I drove up and they were lying. I still had an hour by the time I got there before we ate. Still, 3pm was kind of early for dinner, but they wanted to go out in the early evening to go see the new Grinch movie. So we ate, talked for a little while, then went to the 5:40 movie and it was sold out. We didn't know what to do, so my brothers and I decided to buy tickets now and come back at the 8:10 show, which we did. My parents didn't get to see it though.

It was a great movie. I will have to go see it again; it was better than I expected. There was some ROTFLMAO moments as well as a scene where you can easily get a bit emotional (suprisingly enough).

Didn't do much the rest of the night. My dad had recorded the Thanksgiving night WWF, which they actually attended live (it was recorded on Tuesday night). It's kind of funny because one person makes a reference to why are all those people at the wrestling match when they should be home with their families (implying that they should be at home on Thanksgiving), even though the show was actually taped on Tuesday. I'm not much of a wrestling fan myself, but I thought some of it was somewhat entertaining.

I tried to go to sleep on the couch, but it felt too narrow and I felt like I was going to fall off. I normally sleep in a queen-size bed, all to myself (though I would like that to change), so sleeping on a couch just seemed too restraining. I tried to sleep on the floor, but it was too hard, so I went ahead and stole my brother's bed since he wasn't going to be home. That's why I hate staying over at my parent's house; there's nowhere to sleep comfortably.

And that's all I have to say about that.

So a girl I used to know when we were kids got engaged, and there was a reception/party last night. I was urged to go by family, not sure why, but I had another party too, another friend’s engagement, so I went once I was out.

Six long cold blocks, 10 o’clock at night. I don’t know why I went. I haven’t seen her since we were in 5th grade, and we didn’t like each other much back then. But my mum couldn’t make it into Brooklyn for this, and she knows the girl’s mum, and for some reason I thought I needed to go to this affair to represent her. Misguided sense of propriety? Confused sense of duty? God. Mom said to go; I live pretty close, I went.

Right, like I expected to know anyone there. I considered approaching the happy girl, only I didn’t know which one was her, I worked it out based on the way people approached and congratulated her. And I sure as hell wasn’t going to ask around till someone pointed out the mother. Sorry Mum, I’m leaving.

I don’t know what I expected. Something other than what I found, though. Because I didn’t see anyone I knew. What was I looking for? Maybe some of the other classmates, some I’ve seen since then, so I’d recognize. Maybe I just went because she’s Australian and I haven’t seen any of them since we moved to the U.S. But I didn’t see anyone I knew, I felt dumb as hell, so I turned real quick and left.

Mom’s going to laugh at me, Once you’d walked all the way, why didn’t you take a minute to find the mother and extend congratulations? You could have gone over to the girl.

No, mom. you could’ve. I wouldn’t ever, ever do that. I don’t believe in friendly strangers introducing themselves, I never know what to do when people do it to me. And yes, I don’t know why I forgot that that’s all I was to her, just a stranger whose name she remembered but nothing else. I mean, come on. We were 10. This wasn’t meeting someone in a different context. This was meeting her for the first time. And that’s not why I went. I don’t want to meet anyone new right now, not at their own engagement celebration, not on a cold cold night because my mother said so.

Today, my father called and said he was thankful for me.

That is special.

Today, my sister made the best apple pie I've ever tasted.

That is truly amazing.
Last night I was sitting on a couch, watching Office Space with Nick and Aaron while holding Aaron's hand and occasionally nuzzling him slightly and I thought to myself, "Damn it feels good to be a Gangsta". Then I thought, gee.. moving to Colorado was a good idea.

I'm exceptionally chipper this morning, positively giddy. In a few moments I will slide Thanksgiving dinner into the oven and play video games whilst it slowly cooks. I haven't been a mood this good in ages.

The snow in the courtyard below is melting and the sky above is clear and robin's egg blue. And Nick makes me laugh and Aaron makes me smile. And it's been a blast so far. And while I'm missing some of the people I know, I'm not missing Los Angeles at all. This might change in a week or so, but right now, I've got a dumbass grin from ear-to-ear and i'm sittin' back with my blue elmo t-shirt and grey sweatpants thinking life is sweet.

I've got it bad for Aaron, but for the first time, the idea of having it bad for someone doesn't fill me fear of trepidation, just a vague sort of sweet nuttiness. Okay, off to cook.

I just tipped over a glass and now the water is dripping all over the place. My Accounting book will now have a bunch of wavy pages and is destined to never close properly again. I am delirious. Ben is helping me write a 'Personal Statement' for my application. Just spent two hours on the phone extolling (ugh) the virtues (ugh) of myself. More psychological dentistry in the name of potential employment.

I met David who passed on a letter of reference from my old job. We talked about a bunch of stuff and at one point I made him extremely uncomfortable. Well, everyone KNEW he liked her and someone just HAD to come out and say it. We gossiped about work; it was kind of fun. David is a good guy. He says things so eloquently my sentences seem like random noise.

J from school came by just now. He has no common sense! He rang my landlord's doorbell at close to midnight! Wrong fucking door! Anyway, they really liked my apartment. J and his friend are strong Christians. He is all glowy about things.

Finally I will have this application done tomorrow. I have stepped through the ring of fire to get to this point. They must hire me. PS. Where I live it is still 11:56, Nov 23. I am not writing on the wrong day

I drove up to my house just to see my step-dad walking to the back of our house with his shot-gun. I get out of my car and walk to the back of my house. I see my step-dad shooting at a stray dog. I walk toward the chicken coops and see a worker killing the biggest turkey we own. I shake my head. I don't know why my mom has to have a turkey killed when there is one defrosting in the sink. I also took pictures of the turkey covered in butter in different positions. I decided to make a turkey porn site.

Family members on my mom's half show up and we all eat. Had a discussion about Catholicism and my aunt's wedding while we ate. My step-dad didn't eat with us. My parents have been in a bad mood lately. My dad sleeps on the couch. After washing all those dirty dishes, I decide to see the movie Unbreakable. My friend’s (redboot) 1968 Chevy Impala fails on us once again. I finally got home at 11 pm. A very [long day

Have you ever been scared because something came out of you that you didn't know you had in you?

After all the Thanksgiving fun, a good bitter John Cusak movie and a major cleaning frenzy with my housemate, I decided to at least try to be productive and so I started on a Mixed Media art project I'd been meaning to get to for a long time. The result was something I'd been gestating ever since I saw Requiem for a Dream three weeks ago. It was a scream. I felt like I'd been suppressing a scream for weeks, but I still didn't know that this was what it was going to sound like. It still scares the shit out of me when I look over at it, taped to my wall and almost as big as me.

The result is an expansion on something I drew in my sketchbook back when the wound first opened. A silent girl with hair on her face and her eyes downcast, her face merging into and placed beside the scream. The scream, a featureless figure with mouth wide open, torn with pain. How could you do this HOW could you do this How could YOU DO THIS!?!??!!? And then the words started falling out to match the way this felt and to fill the ground beside the figures. FUCK NO FUCK NO FUCK NO spilled out. It was the only thing that came to mind.

So FUCK NO it is.

And this isn't it. Oh no. This feels like a fucking series. I can't even tell if I like the piece or not, but there it is, ugly and incredible as it is, and asking for more.

Where the hell did that come from?

Oh, and my parents didn't even call or email to say happy holidays. Not really sure how I feel about that one either.
   Thanksgiving was to be spent in Boston, my ticked named the time of departure as 6:15. The plane was late, though, and after taking a different route (through Atlanta) I faced my two-hour layover. Waiting at what I presumed was my terminal, I fell asleep. Fifteen minutes before departure time I jerked awake, 'that could have been close'. No one was around me. Odd - and the board failed to list the flight number. Another look at my ticket reconfirms my fear. Gate B-28, not B-8. Grabbing my belongings, I ran to the gate labeled by a metallic 8 and sat down with the waiting crowd of people. Departure time is listed as L(something), I interpret it as a delay. Half an hour passed, and still no update. In search for some sort of activity, I advanced to the counter and ask when the plane for Boston was supposed to come in.
   The clerk looked at me as if I had asked for his wife's lingerie. "The Boston flight just left. Are you fiffenburg? we called you out five times!" Well, fuck. Day of thanksgiving and I missed my flight because some announcer couldn't come close to pronouncing my name. Distraught, I took the next flight and left a message at home telling Alexander to tell Andreea of the delay and change of origin. What had happened was that the 8 referred to the gate on my direct left, however both of the waiting areas shared a desk and the destination signs were atop one another.

   Once in Boston and re-united with Andreea we took the airport shuttle out to braintree and were picked up by Steph and her father. Steph has a beautiful face, even if she is a bit out of shape - her father is conservative, but in a liberal way - open to ideas. The majority of her family had already finished eating by the time we arrived, but were glad to eat more and talk to us while we heated up our food. Dehydrated, I wolfed down my wine and procured an unwanted buzz. In conjunction to dealing with my sleepiness I was now buzzing but still the center of attention. Clumbsily I got up to heat my plate in the microwave, but Steph's mother took it from me. I don't think they noticed, but I certainly did... Finally, dinner was over. In the living room I talked to Steph's brother about network security and the duration of federal charges until Steph and Andreea came in and took their places. Plans were debated and it was decided that we would go to one of Steph's friends houses and rent a movie to see with them. We did go to their house and talk to mainly her aunt and friends, there we learned that someone once died while playing fluffy chubby bunny and that said aunt was concerned about her niece and friends playing. I commented that that person's dying words must have been "Fluffy Chubby," people laugh at this and the image of choking on a marshmallow. But it would be horrible, I almost choked once. It's like drowning, but there is no water. Everything becomes so much more appearant, the beauty of the world is so much clearer... but death is certain, you try to sneak a peak.
   On the way back we pick up some snacks and a movie (Magnolia;) Steph comes outside with me so I can get my suitcase out of her dad's trunk. She looks at the stars and asks where the big dipper is. Aside her, I point out the north star and connected handle of it... her face is next to mine, timeless. I point closer, lean in to her. Our faces turn slightly, eyes meet. Kiss her or not? The second of hestitation lingers for what seem like minutes. Eventually we broke out gaze and looked back up. I would only be here for a day, this would only stir trouble. Back inside, we watch the movie (which is incredible, a must-see by any means.) Eventually it was over and we retired, I slept in a cot in the basement. Not too bad.

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