May 15, 2000 | May 16, 2000 | May 17, 2000

Everything Statistics

Statistics               stats   wa7   inc  l_stats l_wa7
Total Number of Nodes:  516366  1949  1418   514948  2038
Total Number of Users:   14490    37    44    14446    36
Total Number of Links: 1478552 17859 18579  1459973 17739
Current node_id:        552424  2032  1454   550970  2128

Everything's Best Users

Users                  XP wa7 inc   l_XP l_wa7
Pseudo_Intellectual 10708 142 238  10474 126
dem bones           10184  83   8  10176  95
jessicapierce       10116  82  14  10102  93
pukesick             7577 116 113   7464 117
DMan                 7247 149 145   7102 150
Saige                6943 148 155   6788 147

Server time: 00:44 Tue May 16 2000 
Your Fellow Noders(33)

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

The statistics seems to show that DMan and Saige are coming up fast on pukesick's tail.


Hmm ... reputation: -1? Update May 17, 200. That was remedied ... reputation: 2. Thanks, happy voters.

Still Waiting for Everything Snapshot. No change.

To node ...
E2 other everythings, best feature ready html editor,
Malaysia InTech
Others Deja, tracert

Well, it's starting to itch a bit down there. Short-term solution: Baby powder. Long-term solution: re-shave the boys tonight. I like being hairless.


Well, I shaved again, and it still feels neato. Off to work now, so I can make a fool out of myself while trying to filter images. I know nothing of image filtering. If you know anything of image filtering, /msg me and I'll give you details and you can tell me what kind of algorithm to use.

Cool?

06:30 BST

Well good start to the day, last night I introduced a plot twist in the pbem that I'm involved in and it seems to have stimulated everybody's imagination and there are lots of posts waiting for me to read.

Unfortunately none of the characters would have noticed anything amis yet so the first email I read was a general ratty complaint from the GM to most of the group.

Oh well, off to read through the rest of the messages.

11:00 BST

M (one of the many people who attended the "Internet for Complete Idiots" courses that BluePrintVert and I ran) called up today. He has just been given Internet Access and needed another lesson on how to use it. Vert answered the 'phone (thankfully because if it had been me I would have screamed) and walked him through the basics (again). Notable quote "So is this a website? What does it do?" about www.bbc.co.uk

After the call we came to the conclusion that he slept through our very interesting presentations

We now have a bet on whether he will be able to cope with the concept of a firewall password.

Andy is 29 today so in the tradition of this company he provided lots of cake. Helping myself to a donut I returned to my office, one bite revealed it to me a toffee donut - not jam! As I can not stand toffee donuts from Tesco I was forced to discard it where nobody could see.

People in the office are beginning to find out about this diary, this is not a good thing and I am beginning to regret announcing K?s involvement in Flame FM at the departmental meeting, he has no sympathy.

Getting to grips with PHP for the database, today I managed to implement some code to authenticate users. Of course when I get home I have to carry on with Perl, I really need to get to grips with it create some sort of indexing for my UFED Logs site.

12:40 BST

I love insurance, it isn't going to cost me a penny to get my cell phone repaired (the flip down bit looks like it will break off sometime this week). I just have to wait until the Pocket Phone Shop has a spare phone to lend me while mine gets sent off.

15:00 BST

Well, it looks like I am off to Birmingham tomorrow. One of the servers that I built is becoming unreliable and needs fixing (it had to be the PDC didn't it?). While the job is dull as dishwater, it does mean I get to work nearly an hour of overtime as I have to leave so early, and I get paid for spending four hours sitting in a car reading and listening to CDs.

15:40 BST

Well one of our remote servers has stopped responding, it refuses to even accept a ping. Our current best guess is that becuase E started the backup in the middle of the day, it is just too busy to recieve any other network traffic. We'll find out for sure when the backup is finished.

19:00 BST

I got home a little later then usual as the bus driver took a wrong turn and we went about half a mile out of our way. He didn't charge us extra through.

The server was easy to fix, just a matter of plugging the network cable back in, E had kicked it out by accident.

Dad seems to have lost some very important paperwork that I need last week, I hope I can make do without it.
So I was sitting around my house innocently working on a Perl module when my phone rang, at around 2 AM. It was a female friend of mine; she said that her boyfriend had attacked her and she'd thrown him out, and would I please come to her house and walk her someplace else?

Naturally I said yes. So I went to her house and helped put his things outside the apartment. We then walked to a bar near my house; even though it was after closing time in Baltimore, she's tight with the people who run it and she knew she could get inside still. The whole way, I had a can of bug spray in my pocket. I knew that her boyfriend is strong and knows how to fight, so I thought that chemical warfare would be my best chance if he started shit. In fact, we saw him; he was standing outside his ex-boyfriend's house, presumably trying to talk his way in so he'd have a place for the night. We passed by without him seeing us.

In the bar the lady who runs it was hanging out with the two jazz musicians who had performed there that night. The five of us talked about her situation, and the two musicians sang a few songs and did a little tap dancing too. That cheered her up (as did the Tequila Sunrises she had on the house) and I left her in the care of the owner of the bar, to stay in an apartment attached to the bar.

I'm pretty sure I'll see him again; Baltimore is a small town. I'm going to make sure that my friends know to turn him away. With any luck, he will just take his things and move on to yet another city, just like he moved on to here a while back. My friend pointed out that he was in the same position that he was in three months ago when she met him: no job, no place to stay, no money. And for all I care, he can stay that way.



(continued, nighttime same day) Got a few hours sleep, then the same friend called me again. She asked me to go with her to some places: the courthouse for a restraining order, her apartment to ask her landlord to change the locks, and the hospital to document her cuts and bruises. I called my girlfriend for moral support and use of her car. She came down and we went together to the bar where I'd left my friend. We went to her apartment, then to the courthouse. There was a lot of paperwork for her to do, and then re-do; it turned out that you can't get a restraining order in Maryland unless you have been living with someone for 90 days. Instead, you must get something called a "peace order", which as far as I can tell differs in no important way for a restraining order. After the paperwork was done (the second time), we went upstairs to a courtroom. I got shushed by a bailiff while talking with my girlfriend. My friend had her hearing and the judge was sympathetic; he granted a temporary peace order and scheduled another hearing for next week. The judge said that it wasn't necessary to get a doctor to document her injuries, that we could do it ourselves and it would suffice. So we drove to my girlfriend's house and got out her good camera and took a few photos. We hung out there for a little while and I played a few games on the old Atari 7800. Finally we took my friend back to the club; she'll be there for a few days. The place is built like a fortress and always full of people who know her. It's probably the safest place for her in the city of Baltimore.

The day came together like a dream, or rather a really good dream. It fit together and I didn't have to do anything besides be. I awoke and started reading. Soon after that my on/off friend was on, he came to see if I wanted to go to eat breakfast. Sure, I rode in the back of the car, let the boys yak about music up front, I didn't really feel much like talking, and I didn't have to. The sun was shining and it was warm. I sat and listened to the music, rap, which admittedly is not my favorite though I have come to at least understand it a little mostly because of the homage to it that I hear constantly. It was a feeling of freeness, of summer, of being on the open road and slacking, nothing to do, just enjoying the summer day. Doesn't get much better then that.

15:30 EET

Hämeenlinna is starting to look like one huge construction site. Not only there are many houses being built on the lots surrounding my home, but the (small) center of the city is also filled with buildings under development.
Some years back, when the recession was going on strong, you couldn't see a doghouse being built in this town. So I guess this is the sign of things being on a better course. For a moment, anyway.
I only have one gripe with all this. Because of the big constructions blocking up the sidewalks, my way to work is now at least 200 meters longer. Intolerable! :)

Btw, I really feel Latvia should've won the Eurovision Song Contest. That's just my two cents.
The Finnish entry was a great example of our country's pop music: dead boring.

Note to the person/people giving me all that negative XP:
No matter how many levels I drop, you can't stop me from noding. :P
bad bad BAD mood.

people at work (and it's a small company) are unable to remember my name. my name isn't martha or mary. asshole fucks. i've been at this goddamned mother fucking company for four goddamned years, longer than almost everyone, and several years longer than any of the senior management, including the ceo.

today proved to me that i CAN just miss the same fucking stoplight every single day. it's not a matter of stoplight timing, this is the first stoplight i hit. inevitably when i arrive the light has just turned red. and it's a really annoyingly long light. it's a sign from god to get my fatass out of the car and ride my bike or walk to work.

i want to move into a less expensive place. i thought about maybe asking my sister if i could move in with her for a while to save up some money, but with my doggie and kittie, and all my furniture it wouldn't make much sense. the idea of living with a roommate is out. i do NOT play well with others.

more later. hopefully i'll cheer my whiney ass up. sorry for the worthless drivel.
Damn it! Ever have one of those days where all you want is for people to leave you the hell alone? Every five seconds someone is either knocking on my door or calling me. I need to get the hell out of here with the quickness. So much to do so little time.

Started reading Plato - The Last Days of Socrates last night. Interesting shit. Socrate's Apology is especially nice.

Things to do today:

Quote: "You said it man... nobody fucks with the Jesus" - John Turturro (AKA Jesus ) in The Big Lebowski
Updates:
I seem to be in a much better mood now. Lunch was great (Rockbottom on Fountain Square) as I saw one of the most beautiful girls I have ever seen. I found it impossible not to stare at her, and she caught me doing it too. Normally I don't mind getting caught staring, but when I saw that she was looking right back at me it just set something off inside me.

Went out to Red Lobster for Mother's Day last night. Number One Son had to work so he's taking me to lunch today at Applebee's.

Trying to get ready for Baccalaureate, I was helping Number One Son button his shirt cuffs when he asked which way the Graduation cap went.

Son: I think they said the elastic goes in the back

Husband: They didn't have elastic back when your mom graduated

*slap on the arm*

Son: Ow Mom!! Dad said it, why'd you hit me?

Anywho, I got a nice card from Number Two son and he put a neato Spiderman theme on my desktop for me.

By (Jesus)...let us offer the sacrifice of praise to God continually, that is, the fruit of our lips giving thanks to his name.
- Hebrews 13:15 (KJV)

Open my eyes and ears to see the ways you love and provide for me each day of my life.

Devotion

I took my cool mom to the hospital today for some tests. More tomorrow. I hope we find out the results soon. Waiting is the worst part... We tried to get a cell phone for the upcoming road trip. This was a disaster, as the people at SunCom, located in a chichi redneck Yuppies' shopping center were Not Interested in speaking to us. I'm considering Sprint PCS, it looks okay.

It's the third day that my SO has been gone, and I had promised myself to keep a journal of thoughts, poetry and favorite quotes and poems to give to him after the summer. I haven't had a chance to find and buy a good blank book, though. I hope he doesn't think it's silly, but his sense of miyabi or romance is similar to mine. It's taken me a while to learn this, at first I was afraid to express myself in these girly mushy ways. Who'd have guessed he was like that? Now if I could just get him to dress nicely...sigh.
- / +

I never get to see Zach but I do today and I make it count. I grab him in the hall and make him late for class. I poke him. "Hear you've got a new lady friend, way to go, dude." He punches me in the arm. "Dang. Why's everybody gotta talk about my business? Who told you? No, wait, this is better. Guess what. My baby sister took her first twelve steps last night! Like, in a row! And she's only eleven months, isn't that good? That's pretty good, right? And she can say Mama and Dada and Ak. That's me, I'm Ak. Great, huh!" and he laughs and laughs and punches me again and runs off to class.

As I'm leaving work Heather asks me to stay a minute to "touch base." I wonder if she is going to fuss at me for my visible bra straps, or maybe she knows I've been stealing pudding cups. Maybe "touch base" is bitchy repressed mean lesbian code for "masturbate with me."

"How do you feel about tall dark and Albanian?" My answer is, of course, "yay." As it turns out, Heather wants to give me a man. Everything she's saying sounds good - she leans in, smiling, to tell me she's been seeing a man she met at a club, 20, speaks hardly any English, but, she says, "he doesn't need to." He has a friend named "Lobby" (Labi? that's foul) who needs a date and he's very handsome and - and I stop listening, the same way I would stop listening if - shit, I don't know, some metaphor with a piranha in it. Anyway, not only do I tell her no, but I weave (with shameful lack of effort) a story about a man I've just started seeing, someone I used to work with, and we always got along so well, and this relationship is new but I feel it's founded on friendship and I don't want to jeopardize something that could turn out to be really amazing.

After work I realize I haven't eaten, because I am a moron. Grocery store. I pick the ugliest pie, with broken crust and pie guts oozing out, because I know no one else will buy it. For a minute I have the bad thought that this is how I pick my men, but that's not true, and I relax. Sometimes I think bad things just because they make good stories.

I sit in my car in the park enjoying the branches against the sky and the giant maroon improbable perfect rooster in the tree next to me. I eat pie. Suddenly I know, and it makes me happy, these are highly sensual moments I am building, I have no fork and no napkins and it is all up to my fingers and tongue. Lately I have had zero sexual instincts - months of not caring, except the occasional flicker for Gillian Anderson or David Duchovny or both - maybe it is the lack of someone to share sensualityness with, maybe I am just protecting myself. I don't know what it is. But I know, licking pie off my fingers in the park, that if someone were with me, I would be feeding him sweet apples, and he would be enjoying it.

-/+

I ate the biggest breakfast ever eaten
I had potatoes with some kind of meat gravy/creamed beef thing, pancakes with apple goo, and a filipino sweet fried pork thing (the name escapes me). Then I had fried rice and more potatoes with crap on them. Then, I had a cinnamon and sugar donut, still warm. Then, I wanted to throw up. Bad.
But instead I climbed up and down stairs for a half hour.
An aircraft carrier is very big. I get to verify that the fuel transfer system is properly aligned before we pump fuel anywhere. This prevents us from oozing fuel somewhere real hot (where it will burn), or into the ocean (where the captain will burn). To do this, I must climb down five steep sets of stairs seven times.
It is a long way.
It is hard.
I sweat profusely, because some of the ladders are in really hot spaces.
Watch out! This chair will suck the life force out of you.
Written on the desk in front of the Propulsion Plant Supervisor's chair. Propulsion Plant Supervisor is a title like sanitary engineer--it sounds alot spiffier than it really is. The Prop Plant Supervisor, aka P-Desk, just logs everything that occurs in the Steam Engineering Plant. A logkeeper, a writer downer of things, the P-Desk is excruciatingly boring.
Tadpole is sick. Real sick.
My boy's temperature shot up to 106 yesterday, so wife rushed him to the hospital where they gave him shots and other excruciating things to fix him. He is better, with no permanent damage (thank goodness). He had to give the nurses a urine sample, and for those not yet potty trained, this usually involves catheters. But, he has had tremendous success in the potty arena lately. So, the nurses gave him 15 minutes. In the last second of the last minute, he peed in the cup, to the great applause and celebration of everyone involved. According to my wife, he is much better today, but has to return to the hospital for a follow up visit. Every time he thinks of having to go back, he sobs. It makes me sad as well.
I finished three morning pages almost immediately after waking up - of course, it was logical morning, which for me happened to be 0300 (since I had the day off work). Never mind. Anyway, the morning pages are from The Artist's Way course, and are precisely three pages of stream-of-consciousness writing - just random, mental, effluviac foo that you scrape off your mind/brain. You make a committment to yourself to spend 12 weeks doing the morning pages. This physical torture is owing to our own lovely jessicapierce, who noded Julia Cameron and The Artist's Way.

I picked up my developed Holga film today. More turned out than usual. Some of the 35mm I got back included pics of my friend Britta, an artist, doing her taxes; also, a co-worker picking his nose, and the coffee cart in a classics grad student breakroom. All are suitable for framing.


I am still not successful in provoking a war with France.

My paycheck correctly reflects my 401(k) contributions. Yay! My medical insurance deduction increases by about 18%. Booo.
After work, I visit the friendly Division of Motor Vehicles office, to see what has to happen to transfer the Sundance title from Florida, co-ownership to New Jersey, sole ownership. The paperwork is familiar from my initial move here, but the frosty, condescending, stupid bitch who gave me a hard time then, now tells me that I have to get the former co-owner to fax a driver's license. WTF? OK, I assume there is a good reason for this, even though it doesn't match what we did last time... I return home and call the co-owner and it is done. I plan to return tomorrow and finish this deal up. With any luck the Ice Bag will have been consumed in her own vitriol before I have to deal with her again.

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