The sun shone yellow today...

Now, I know what you’re thinking: "Yeah, of course the sun is yellow, so what?" Ah, but however yellow the sun is, the light it gives off is generally white, or close to it. But given the large amount of forest fire-spawned smoke in the air, the sun was yellow.

It was rather peaceful, actually. The usual white fluorescence of the office was preempted for something greater, a golden ambiance...
Well, today was a rather interesting day. I don't remember if I have ever been this proud of my brother. Today he flew his first solo flight in a little plane, something he has wanted to do for quite some time. For weeks, the only conversation that has been buzzing around my household has been flight-oriented, which is something that I am not too fluent in but that I nonetheless enjoy.

My father has been a pilot since he married my mother so our family is not new to this kind of thing. It has been a rather turbulent week, between attempting to find employment, getting yelled at by my parents for not being employed, missing a very crucial person in my life, and having a close friend attempt to plant one on me mixed with migraines and a screwed up knee, this was a very good way to end the week. So, to all of you who are pilots, watch out for my brother, he's going to be one hell of a fly boy.
A few minutes ago I said goodnight to someone I love. It was a goodnight that really meant goodbye, as we both hung up on our relationship.

Some might consider it to be a tragic event handled with maturity and finality. Actions almost worthy of praise. Instead, I must compare it to a man who doesn't scream when his leg is severed. It hurts like wish you can change the events that transpired...yet all you can do is lay there in stunned shock staring straight ahead through blurry eyes. Eyes without sight expecting to wake from a nightmare. To scream would be to acknowledge the fact that it is the worst kind of nightmare: reality. All I can do is imagine a future in which a vital part of me is no longer connected.

My world has crumbled before me. What remains of my intellect struggle for some sort of structure to be built from the ashes. But it is a feeble voice, one being drowned out by the wails of despair. My one consolation is that I am now tired. That perhaps with rest I will be more adept to handle life's changes. Yet I fear that with tomorrow's dawn that single assurance will evaporate with the morning dew. Tomorrow, I will be alone.

If only hearts were disposable. I could then ask for another as my own is broken. I must admit that my heart is excessively fragile. Like a crystal ball dropped from high, never again will my heart recover completely despite all efforts of repair. The clarity that once existed will hence be jaded and the protection afforded ever so much more strict. Will my heart ever be allowed to view love's light? Or will it only recognize love's brilliance as pain? Such questions will forever employ soothsayers.

Tonight, I have lost. a new day. A new day, new hope, and perhaps someday, a new heart.

(Happy birthday to me...)


Work is not a good way to spend a birthday. =)

Last night, I did nothing important.

Today, nothing important either so far. I'm trying to get productive. I'm just... hungry.

I had some pretty cool ideas last night, maybe I should node those.


Ate, got some CD-Rs... (Wow! Apparently I have some money again. I'm not going to spend this stuff unwisely!)


...and the spammers gave me a neat birthday present of... well, spam! =(


My "party" isn't much of a party, but I bought something to drink. (Typical luck... none of the shops have Coca-Cola just when I have a reason to celebrate. Well, could be worse =)

I burned some MPEGs on a CD-R, and lo and behold, the DVD player recognizes it as a VideoCD! The Myths That All CD-R VideoCDs Won't Work On DVD Players Have Been Greatly Exaggerated =)


I met the person I care the most, he told what had been going on there, and I heard some birthday greetings from him.

I think that fact alone could save my night.

I was again slipping in my same old darkness depression... but this light helped me to go on.

All is good in the world!

Other day logs o' mine...

Noded today by y.t.: E2 Noder ASCII Portrait Repository pencil

Updated: VideoCD Clarke's Third Law

root@galaga simonc# date
Mon May 28 20:07:21 EST 2001
root@galaga simonc# uptime
8:07pm up 44 days, 3:35, 2 users, load average: 0.26, 0.15, 0.06

Cool day, my first full working day at my new job. Projects! /me loves projects! heh.

Rode my bike to work this morning, leaving the house at 6:30am, in subzero temperature. Me, ever the dummy, realised 50 metres into the ride that my summer gloves with no fingers were probably a bad idea for Canberra pre-dawn bicycling... Upon arriving at Manuka, my hands were icicles.

The coffee scene at 6:45am in Manuka is not so good. Only the new Starbucks, which I have been passing-by since the few weeks it's been open (it's the first in Canberra and one of the first in the country -- the chain has only been here since the Olympics late last year).

Now, I've consumed plenty of fine Starbucks beverages in the USA and Japan (the sandwiches in Japan are particularly fetching), but a Starbucks in Australia is like, well, really odd and out of place. And damn if I'm going to order a bloody "Americano", a term completely foreign to Australian coffee lovers...

Anyway, so in I go. Without a look at the board, I ordered two long blacks. I was delighted when the waitress didn't even blink. I stole a look at the board to see that the dread "Americano" was titled


Yay for common sense! "What size?" was the next question. Hmmm. "Ummm, small, please". "You mean "short", she corrected me. "Umm, okay."

The order was called out. "Two short long blacks."

Heh. Love corporate foodservice.

Dinner tonight: Spicy enchiladas with organic beef and fresh corn kernels, beans 'n' rice, and a nice crunchy salad dressed in lime juice and toasted sesame seeds. And a beer. Gemma is pleased to have me home, and in the kitchen...


The illusion of calm.

Just before the exams, a few days before THE BIG ONE. You know, the one your entire life hinges on, you wake up have a shower and walk around like normal people. Pretend like it isn't worrying you, and then you realize: It isn't. For some reason the fear is gone, like an echo of itself. I don't know why. It could be anything. The quiet calm of the Computer Lab, the averageness of the weather, it is wet and dull outside, the fact I had a really nice shower this morning and feel clean, the knowledge that things may be coming together? Or maybe not.

I just don't know. Somethings are out of my control, and in this case so are my emotions, thank God. I want to be scared, but my mind is clear. I am focused. I could write beautiful poetry for days. Came across someone I didn't like much today, looked at her talking to a group of people I knew, and then, well, I just walked past. Looking in my wallet for the student card I would need to get into the library. Wow. Cool. Ice. No tension at all. Normally I would be worried about what to say, what to do.

About being myself.

Maybe thats it. I feel like myself today. No mistakes so far, no really big issues about personal identity against the background of a universe gone mad. The world is ticking away nicely, and I seem to be on track. Wow. Am I enlightened? Could be. I doubt it though, and so should you.

Any wisdom or insight that I impart upon others is merely a grain of sand upon the Shore of Truth. My explanations stem from my own fallible understanding, the mind of an imperfect man. Rather than heed my words, the vain imaginings uttered from a flawed mouthpiece, watch for my deeds and actions toward others. Truly, actions speak louder than words. If the fruits of my labors and dealings with other people speak highly of my intentions, if they are good, be free to agree, but look not upon them as a point of authority. If, however, the fruits of my labors are bitter, shun me from sight and heed not a letter of a single word that should spill from my sinful tongue. In regards to the Truth of God, I am but a simpleton. Hearken, instead, to the Texts of His Divine Utterance and Guidance, that His might may be revealed through understanding and, eventually, Faith. The Word of God is an ocean of knowledge whereas my own human wisdom is but a drop thereof. Blessed be His full Ocean of Grandeur and Divine Knowledge!

Or, in layman's terms, "Don't quote me, boy, I ain't said shit."

I have come to realize that I am not a teacher. I am a servant, rather, to those who wish to learn. My own experiences may reveal unrealized wisdom to others, but I will forever be a student of life and am not to be looked upon as a role model. I am not perfect. I am human and imperfection is as ingrained in me as breathing. I will make mistakes and not understand them. I will be awful, at times, with my timing. I will unknowingly hurt myself and others in ways I couldn't possibly foresee. I am in the process of knowing myself and that process is eternal; I will never be in a station where I can tell anyone what anything means with 100% certainty. I would rather listen and learn from others as well as myself than waste my time (and that of other people) by trying to pass myself off as someone who knows what's going on in the world. Any clue I get into the reality of the world is for me and me only to truly appreciate and comprehend because all others are shut from my perspective in life. No one else can really see the world the same way that I do; nor can I see it as they do. This fact upholds my belief that I have no place in being an authority on anything but my own being. I can tell you what I would do in a situation, I can state how I feel about something, I can expound upon my theories on any given quote or interpretation... but it's all coming from my point of view. Someone else may see it differently, perhaps better and more clearly. I am capable of speaking truths, as individual shards of the greater mirror which reflects The Truth, but the capacity to know The Truth, in its entirety, is beyond my scope. Don't look to me for guidance or wisdom. I have none to offer you. On the other hand, I'm willing to bet that there is plenty of wisdom you can offer yourself, if you'll open your eyes and see it.


Got a hotel room booked in Oulu for next monday.
I have a snowball's chance in Okinawa with the exam, and the trip will be quite costly. But if I'll fail, I'll fail with style. :)
Deep down I am sort of relieved to know my chances are nearly non-existent. Me moving to Oulu? That would be a Finnish version of Northern Exposure right there! And while admittedly the original is the greatest television series ever, we all remember what happened to Rob Morrow.
Right, I'm not making much sense here. But it's monday. Bear with me.

Actually, just getting my ass off the chair and trying is enough. I feel like doing something worthwhile - a feeling I definitely don't get from my work at the moment. Succeeding in getting accepted to the school is irrelevant, really. I do want to get in, but I also know it doesn't only bring positive changes to my life. Sure, other people will no longer think I'm a derelict loser. However, making decent pay doing something I'd do on my spare time is replaced by living as a poor student having to worry about exams, grades, dorm queues, incompatible roommates... No more fancy dinners at the best stake house in town. Not that there's anything wrong with instant ramen noodles. All this so I'll some day be able to make more money leading a group of people doing what I'd do on my spare time.
But let's not kid ourselves - working definitely has its downsides as well.
And maybe that's why I'm not having much stress about the whole deal. Passing the exam would help me achieve my dream of higher education, but failing it just means 12 months of business as usual.
Being the positivist that I am, I consider this to be a win-win situation.
What do you mean, "denial"? :)

Although I joke about it and all, I won't deny the fact that I'm quite excited and a bit anxious about the exams. Haven't taken part in a serious one since the finals of lukio 2 years ago.

Last but not least..
Hyvää syntymäpäivää VeppiHukalle! ^_^

To be continued.

08:00 CDT (GMT -6:00)

Woohoo Monday! Here in the US of A, it's supposed to be a national holiday - Memorial Day - bet evidently where I work it doesn't exist or some nonsense. I wouldn't even mind coming in so much, but the problem is that since it's not a University Holiday, I have to follow normal Monday rules, which involve parking a long ways away instead of in front of the building. I find this to be quite irritating to say the least. It's not like anyone's going to be here, they're all on vacation and visiting family. Yet, I am stuck here. It's okay

I intend today to be a continuation of yesterday's 14 hour noding marathon. I'm only at work for 9 and a half hours today, so I'll node for that long, and when I get home I have laundry and such to do, maybe some more noding in bed after that.

On the topic of my little noding spree, driving home last night across that stupid 24 mile long bridge, I didn't turn on the radio. I wasn't on the phone. I just sat in awe as my mind reeled like mad from being tweaked up on reading and writing nodes all day. A few thoughts for noding came to me, I may or may not explore some of these today.

I forgot! I found out yesterday that my new Powerbook will be shipping with OS X for FREE! It's weird for me buying an Apple, but hey we'll see. If I hate the OS I'll just install the latest version of Mandrake on it, which is soon to be released for PPC (yay!)

I have a massive attack of ticks. You know, when you get those involuntary spasms. I've been working on a project for school all weekend, and I have work today+tomorrow. So I won't even be home till Tuesday Afternoon. Add to that my imense fatigue gained from coding all night, and you have me.

I joined yesterday just so I could look at chicks, cause I'm a stupid pervert who can't get a date anyway. Man, did I get bored with that fast. I'm so pathetic.

Noded a bit as well. And bookmarked a lot.

I feel a need to get home & go to sleep (I'm still at work and its 7:45pm).

Now my arm is spasming again. I've been typing too much it seems.

-4, eh? what is so wrong with being honest, now? :)
9:40pm: It seems I'll be home around midnight today. I guess that's ok. Considering I get to sleep this friday. I look forward to it already!

*sigh* Oo and I got upvoted. Heh. now it's only -2. Whatta you know.

10:18pm: Strange. Just as I read John 3:16 on a random soft-linked path, a guy in the office asked what the printer was called... 316. Maybe this means that I should believe in Jesus H. Christ. Now, I'm a devout and zealous atheist. No, actually I don't care. And I don't have the willpower to start believing.

Actually, I don't even have the willpower to start smoking. And that even though I smoke when I'm out clubbing/bar-hopping (I get high from the nicotine, hah. That is so bad).

1:00am: I'm going to bed. Ahhhhh!

Well, today I'm really stressing. Yesterday I finally got around to doing a bit of spring cleaning on the PC, i.e wipe the fucker.

My whole family use this PC, so I told them weeks ago that this was coming. I backed up all of my important files (I'd hate to have to download that 70mb Counterstrike install again) onto CD's. My parents only use a select few programs so saving their stuff was easy, my younger brother on the other hand is a whole different matter.
I asked for over a week for him to back up any files he didn't want to lose. He spent it playing CS instead. I wanted to wipe everything a week ago, but couldn't start until my brother backed up his files. Finally on the friday he tells me that he has a folder on the desktop which he wants copying to CD. I make a mental note to do it later. My brother leaves for a long weekend of Hockey training.

So saturday comes and I decide to get down to business, I copy my parents files over to another partition, which is basically empty, and go to put my brother's files onto a CD-RW. I start it off to burn and then it rejects the CD, I need to wipe it first. I choose quick wipe, which takes 5 mins, then 10, then 15. I get bored and go and read for a while. 40 minutes total later and the CD is finally clean, then I notice that his files are under 50mb, so I just decide to copy to the other partition. Except I don't, for some reason I forget.

This happens every time, I wipe a HD and there's always one thing i forget, usually one of my own files. This time however it isn't.

So I'm stressing. My brother hasn't come back yet, all I know about those files, is that some folders were marked up as homework. Whether or not they actually contained homework or not is another matter. My brother often mark up his folders full of dope related texts and jokes as homework, becuase he thinks nobody will look in them.

So there's nothing I can do, I ran an undelete program, but the HD was formatted, so there's nothing left. I managed to salvage some homework files, but I have no idea if they were important or not. I don't take too much interest in my brother's schooling, I do know that recently he has had exams, and I'm praying that I haven't deleted any exam related coursework.

All I can do is wait until he gets back and break the news.

It doesn't stop me going over in my head who exactly is to blame for this. Now admittedly I deleted the files and have to accept responsibility for it. Although, if he had backed up the files when I had asked him, and done it himself, then this mess wouldn't have happened. I have no idea whether he has any of his own backups for this work, but knowing my brother probably not. It's common sense though, what's one of the first things you learn when you first start using say, a word processing program?


If there's a power cut and you don't save, all that work you just did is gone. It works the same with backing up your files, if you don't have a spare and a virus or something hits you, then you're in trouble.

I mean, I could twist this around all over the place and assign blame to everyone, but in the end, it's still my head. This could all be nothing, then again it could be everything, I may have deleted some assignment that is due in tomorrow. If I have, we're both screwed.

I guess all I can do it wait.

"Hope" is the thing with feathers --/ That perches in the soul --/ And sings the tunes without the words --/ And never stops --at all --.
Emily Dickinson

It has been a long year, a very long year from the moment we first made the decision to move to this point in time. I have lived as I never thought I would ever live. If I had known then that I would be living the way I am now, I do not think I would have taken the risk that I did. I am glad that I did not know. To say that this has been stressful would be a gross understatement. Still, I hung on to that hope dangling by a string, for that was all I could do, hang on tight while the winds whipped furiously around me.

An offer has been made on our house. Finally, a contract has been signed. From the sounds of things this new family will fit well into our old neighborhood. They are coming up from Georgia. Southerners in Yankee land. I like that. My favorite aunt is a Georgian. I will not get the joy of hearing their accents! No wait, I take that back, when we return back east some day we will meet them. We have close ties with our friends across the street. The ones who have been a godsend to us through all of this. They will pounce upon the new family with the same speed they pounced upon us to make them feel welcome and a part of the community. *grins* It's their nature.

The new family is very positive. In that I mean that when others looked at our home, or made offers in the past, they picked it to pieces, looking for the faults of living there, always dwelling on the faults, looking at it as a building. This family was different. They came in and saw all the positives, the neighborhood ideal for kids, the potential of the house, the beauty that the garden had been and would be again with attention. They looked through the property. They saw it as a home not a building. They found our home via internet and fell in love with my screaming blue house, overgrown garden from neglect and all.

The husband flew up with his daughter just to look at it, despite a rainy day, no electricity, etc. etc. They have two kids slightly younger than ours. Our realtor has said that when she talks to them it is like talking to us, that we are very similar. I am glad. We wanted a nice family to move into our old neighborhood, the neighbors are the nicest and warmest I have ever known. We wanted someone who would enrich the neighborhood as we had done. I think they will fit wonderfully into this role. They have the "attitude". I am pleased. I feel good about this. I hope that we find that again, here in our new home when we finally leave this limbo. Soon... I feel it tickling my soul. Soon our journey here will be starting up again after a long pause at the station...

update: My old friend and neighbor did indeed pounce! *laughs* She brought over lemonade and cookies for the daughter. She likes the father and child already.

"She is as sweet as Heather but with a southern accent. She called me Ma'am."

I feel REALLY good about this.

I'm taking my kids up to the cemetary today. I feel very strongly that they need to understand what Memorial Day is all about, and I want them to remember the reason behind the holiday. We are going up there, and we are going to decorate the grave of the only veteran that we know who died, the man who lived across from us and got killed at Sturgis a few years ago. We are also going to find a grave that no one is taking care of and adopting it. I feel very strongly about this. I grew up where my grandparents and my mom grew up. Every year around Memorial Day we would go to the graveyard and clean the graves and put out flowers. It was a time of remembrance and of knowing where we came from. It was a time of stories and of working together as a family. It was a perfect time to hear about my great grandpa, to ask my grandma once again who that baby grave belongs to. We would stroll the graveyard and listen to grandpa tell stories about this person, or how he and that person pulled pranks on their teacher.

I can't give my kids exactly what I had as a child, but maybe I can help them remember those who have gone before us. Maybe I can help them get in touch with graveyards, and the past, and honoring the dead.

One thing that bothers me about doing this is that I know I will cry. Why has crying become so taboo in our society? Why is it something to be hidden, and done only in extreme situations in public? Why have we shut ourselves away from remembering and mourning our dead, and those who we love? I honor those who have gone before me with my tears. I hope I can make my children understand that.

So far my Memorial Day has been spent working and eating Mexican food. In a couple hours, I'll go to the gym, then I'll go home early and crash out with the cat. I put a new name tag on her when I moved across the city. I labeled her name as "Alligator" and put a line promising a reward if found across the bottom. When I leave the house, I frequently chant "all-ih-gay-ter" very broken and pronounced, or yell "See you later, ALLIGATOR!" The cat really seems to respond to being paid so much attention. She runs to the door when I get home and comes to bed with me when it's time. She goes out to sleep elsewhere, but comes back when I wake up. She fetches, she mews, she's good. I'm glad for the cat.

My boyfriend left Lumberton North Carolina today for Washington DC. He is continuing his circle around the U.S., which started here in Phoenix. Only 5 more weeks of hoping he's doing fine and wishing he were here.

While he's gone I'm hoping to drop some of the weight that my medication has helped me gain. I used to be 120, and now I'm at 138 (down from the high of 140). I am full of food and nearly ready for a nap now, and I am not looking forward to the elliptical machine or the situps. I chose this route over dieting though, and I plan to stick to it. Somehow it seems smarter than the Atkins diet.
I am enjoying the end of my vacation (well, if you want to call a 4-day holiday weekend a vacation). I spend the first part of the weekend at a friend's house in Virginia (close to DC). Very nice. And I was able to visit Mason Neck State Park.

Now I just need to watch a couple more movies (so far I've seen Space Cowboys and Gladiator. I was surprised that Gladiator had so much "mystical" stuff in it, but otherwise it was just fine.)

I'm ready for summer, but it's still raining. Oh well!

Memorial Day is a day off of work, if you are working. If you are not, as I am not, it is just a reminder of how pitiful you are.

I can't even walk to 7-11 in my pajamas in peace at 2 p.m. today. There are joggers and barbeque-ers and kite flyers and bicycle riders and dog walkers, all enjoying their day off to the fullest ... while I grumble along sleepily smoking my cigarette.

Part of my wants to wander down to the beach and find a bonfire to hang out at, but then I feel guilty, like I don't deserve to enjoy the working world's day off.

Keep your day job. Memorial Day sucks otherwise.

Memorial Day Weekend, immortalized. What a fucked up three days. Friday night spent with Onya, drank a bit, talked in Windigo, and torwards the end, decided to try some liquid codeine. onya had it for her bronchitis, and offered me a swig, to mellow out. One swig. Yum. Fuzzy. Two swigs, three swigs, floor. The problem is that I'm allergic to codiene and didn't know..tried to go to sleep, end up hearing voices, and seeing visions. It even got to the point where the voices where asking me if I was okay. Sheesh. Spent Saturday trying not to puke and dealing with my skin being on fire. Fun. Saturday night, slept, woke up at 12am and had breakfast with Thor..we figured out the duality of God, and all that shit you talk about at 3am in the morning at Denny's. Sunday, well, ole Garryn's gonna throw himself a going away party. Invited about 10 people, about 6 showed..not bad for Florida. Even invited Megan, knowing full well she wouldn't come. Nobody there cares for her anyays. Wonder why i still kinda do. The topper, kicker, coup de'tat, was coming home this afternoon. My roomamte, the Ash Nazi, was lying on the floor with her legs up on the couch. "What's up?" she looks at me. "You're not gonna like you room". Thinking something was wrong, I open the door and look in, not seeing anything at first. "what do you mean?" then I say the globs of butter on two of my paintings" WHAT THE FUCK! throwing keys at the wall and screaming. Guess oone of my guests, or maybe me a few days ago, ashed in her tub of butter. So she smears it on two of my paintings, one of whcih was almost done of a golden demon, was planning on giving it as a gift to someone before I leave this shithole. I blew. Locked myself in my room and got really high, then left to go to the office to do this. I hate florida

Okay, i think i have to state my point of view.

And i know you'll downvote it

So, what is all this pathetic memorial day business about? America would NOT have won the war without help from the russians.
Thank you all for getting us rid of those nazi assholes, people like me would most likely be in Auschwitz right now otherwise.
BUT what about the agression in Vietnam, about messing up the koreans, abot this stupid boycott against Cuba?
You americans can be proud of what your veterans have done in WWII, if you want to be proud of killing, but not proud of anything any american soldier has done afterwards, including the gulf war.
Do you know the americans and brits traded german soldiers to the russians for Berlin? A german veteran i know was sent to siberia 'till 1954, after originally being a prisoner of the tommys.
The were nazis, so they were worthless? This is nazi thinking!

Excuse my rant, but i can't understand how anyone can be proud of anything having to do with killing.

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