Previously, in Trip's Life: July 2001

31 July 2001

Bleargh. Woken up by the NOC at oh-dark-thirty this morning because they couldn't get hold of anyone else. I can't really blame them, and they were very nice about it, but it did not really help me become less tired. (Neither did staying up late doing nothing of any consequence after virtuously watching anime early so I could get to bed early. Stupid STUPID parasite creature.)

LiveJournal continues to suck in those of weak will. Today I found out that Christy and Bryant have fallen prey to it. I think I'm facing some serious competition in the brain-sucking department...

* * *

Since I watched anime last night, tonight had to be Writing Night even though I am lethargic and small-brained. Despite these handicaps, I wrote almost as much as usual, and in noticeably less time. Yay me.

Now, however, I will finish my book and go to bed.

30 July 2001

Yay no more on call! Hurrah!

Although really, aside from that unfortunate incident on Friday morning it was a very quiet week. Not a single call over the weekend, for example. But I'm still glad to be free.

* * *

I am less glad, of course, to find that in fact the Diet Dr Pepper bin emptied out over the weekend or early this morning. I must write a Strongly Worded letter to the Proper Authorities.

29 July 2001


28 July 2001

Last night, Rebecca and the Bertani-Youngs came over and we taught Christy how to play Mythos. Much fun was had, even by Rebecca, who suffered from the usual flaws of her untested deck, and Chrisber came up with a couple of good phrases that I must incorporate into Lovecraft Country.

Today, on the way back from yummy Thai lunch, I had a small bookstore accident (TM Kit). I define it as "small" only because it came to less than $100 (barely). On the good side, I picked up a book which Amazon had not yet shipped to me, so I was able to cancel that order and feel virtuous about giving my money to, well, at least it's a local chain bookstore. The course of right action is difficult sometimes.

* * *

I've been sitting here listening to the new Flash Girls album and all I can think about the song "Lily of the West" is "what, are we supposed to have sympathy for this bozo?" (Short summary: guy goes to Louisville, hits on a chick, she likes some other guy, he blows his top, knifes the other guy, goes to the gallows, singing the whole time about how it's all her fault.) People suck.

Other than that, it's a nice song, though.

27 July 2001

Blargh. So much for the quiet week of on-call.

I got oncalled about 03:20 this morning, but that wasn't too bad; log in, restart the service, back to sleep. But then shortly after 4 I got called again, about a customer complaining that the service they were paying us money for wasn't working. I poked at the service in every way my sleep-addled little brain could think of, and it looked fine to me. Finally I wimped out and roused my boss, who also spent a while investigating before decide that our service really was fine and the problem must be on their end. Unconsciousness all around, but by that time it was well after 5. I don't know how much lost sleep that all equates to, but I felt little or no guilt about setting my alarm an hour later. And, in fact, I got to work pretty much exactly one hour later than usual, but with a distressing tendency to lapse into somnolence whenever I stop moving.

Caffeine doesn't actually have much stimulant effect on me, but I suspect I will be experiencing more than usual of Diet Dr Pepper's unnaturally invigorating taste today.

I think the dream I had between going to bed for the last time and getting up to go to work was cool and interesting, but I don't remember much of it. Something about a mostly depopulated world, and conflicts between good and evil, and a holy weapon that looked sort of like an abstract gun-shape rendered in blazing white light with a long tail extending from where the magazine well would be to wrap around the wielder's wrist, which shot flechettes of pure darkness or something, and selling one's soul to the devil but becoming undamned by using the dark powers for sufficient good* (there were lots of black, white, and silvery grey auras representing people's damnation, salvation, or indeterminacy), and a road pirate and his number five wife.

*This reminds me of a dream I had a while back about a family who had been given great magical power by the Devil in exchange for owing him a favor to be called in sometime in the future. They planned to use the powers how they pleased (mostly for good, the latest generation being mostly reasonable people) and then when the Devil showed up to call in his favor to "Neener neener!" at him and watch his plan winning Armageddon crumble. Once I booted up my conscious mind, of course, it was obvious that the Devil was going to show up and say, "In accordance with the terms of our bargain, I demand that you ensure that under no circumstances is anyone allowed to... EAT... THIS... KITTEN!" and then they'd be trapped in an infinite regress of double-think and have to decide the fate of the world by tossing a coin, but oh well.

* * *

Infinite Sea last night went reasonably well, despite or because of the pregame metagaming session where everyone got to go on about what they thought was wrong with the game. Since we ended last session standing confusedly on the deck of a ship as it unexpectedly cast off, not all of our suggestions could be implemented, but the restricted environment made many of our objections nonissues, and we got to be relatively competent and beat up the wererats who stole our stuff and everything. Now onward, to the giant stone kraken and the mysterious entity that is leading Danilo around by his glands!

26 July 2001

Finally, the drink machine has been refilled with Diet Dr Pepper! The elixir of life!

I wonder how long it'll last. I bet the person who drinks it all works on the weekends.

Pessimistic? Me?

25 July 2001

Sleepy parasite. But this time I sort of have a good reason: last night some people were doing some work on some systems, scheduled to complete sometime between 18:00 and 24:00, at which time I would have to log in to the Master Server and clue it in. Fortunately, this did not happen while I was at the Bertani-Youngs' watching anime without the ability to get to the Master Server, but neither did it conveniently happen right when I got home. I didn't want to get woken up to deal with it, so I stayed up waiting for the the call, well past my bedtime as it turned out. Half an hour after I finally gave up and went to sleep, the NOC called. As was pointed out to me this morning, they would have called half an hour after I went to sleep no matter what, so I should have just gone to bed right when I got home. Oh well.

So now I am sleepy, but it's being a quiet week at work (knock on Formica), which gives me plenty of time to waffle about Lovecraft Country (the prophesied successor to SCOOS, which will appear when the stars are right).

You must understand that my waffling on this matter puts entire national chains of 24 Hr Breakfast joints to shame. If the survival of humanity was dependent on my making a decision, the carrion eaters of the world would be praying to me as a god of prosperity. I have half-written and discarded at least three sets of game mechanics for LC without finding the Perfect Mechanics. Possibly this is a sign that I should give up on trying to bring Yet Another RPG System into the world and (ab)use an existing one, but none of the ones I have handy is really quite right. BESM2 is close, but there are several things I don't like about it.

The work in progress is a fairly straightforward small_stat+large_skill+die roll vs target number system, using point-based character generation with the added wrinkle that buying up a skill is cheaper if the associated stat is higher. I've thus avoided Deadlands Syndrom ("How unique can we make a system while still being able to claim it's theoretically functional?"), but I worry that this is still too complex for LC, which after all is a comedic horror game.

Now I'm thinking about switching to more but more important stats, with less significant but more free-form skills, since that seems to better express the cinematic nature of the genre (the smart character is usually smart at everything, not just some things), and a big-handful-of-dice system, since it occured to me last night that such a system lets a player more easily keep track of bonuses and penalties by literally adding them to or removing them from her hand.

Give ME the brain, I have to design an RPG!

24 July 2001

Wow, everyone is using LiveJournal. Tara started it, and immediately dragged Liralen in, and now I find that Ambar, Gretchen, and Cyrano all have journals up there. I now feel quite retro to be writing about my life on my own website (never mind typing raw HTML into a text editor, producing black text on a white background)!

* * *

The one soda machine in the entire building that sells Diet Dr Pepper is out again. Apparently there is only one other person in the company who drinks it, but he drinks like twelve cans a day. I guess moderation just isn't competitive.

* * *

Oh, I am reminded to appreciate Cyrano for his gift of diet Stewart's Rootbeer. Yay Cyrano!

23 July 2001

Despite hideous procrastination, this has been a reasonably successful writing night. About a thousand words, finishing off chapter 2.

Oh, and last Saturday was my youngest* sister's wedding, which I did not go to basically because I suck. If you happen to read this, Amber, congratulations and stuff.

*Or should that be "younger sister", since I only have two? But they're both younger...

22 July 2001

Well, this has been a pretty useless weekend. Aside from normal maintenance (laundry, grocery shopping) I have accomplished pretty exactly nothing. On the other hand, my sleep schedule is now all messed up so I should be ready for on-call this coming week.

* * *

Okay, I have now gotten the last N months of new comics sorted and partially bagged, and bought tape to close the bags. I'm not sure where I'll find shelf space for them, but that can wait for a more ambitious day.

Today's recommendations: the Pokéthulhu RPG, and Play Each Morning Wild Queen by the Flash Girls.

20 July 2001

Infinite Sea last night went pretty well, or at least triumphantly: monsters were defeated, some birthday presents were saved, the cute guys did not get badly hurt. Sadly, however, I did not enjoy the session as much as I think I should have, and I'm not sure why. It wasn't because the GMing wasn't good, nor because the other players were inadequate in pleasing me. This is clearly my own problem, I just don't understand it.

It might just be that everyone was sort of sleepy, and the monsters negated my character's primary combat ability, and I am trying to play a character who talks to people, which never works if there is anyone else in the game. But I have been vaguely dissatisfied with most games recently, both ones I play in and ones I've run. Someone suggested that I'm outgrowing gaming, but I don't *think* my real life has suddenly, or even gradually, become more exciting. Perhaps it's just that in my old age I am becoming too crotchety to play well with others.

Or perhaps I will figure out what it is I want that I'm not getting, and then I'll be able to feel sorry for myself in a more concrete fashion.

19 July 2001

Last night I went to bed early, to make up for having gotten up early. So of course I woke up well before my alarm and couldn't get back to sleep. Now I have no brain to play Infinite Sea with.

* * *

Today I received mail from my doctor indicating that my kidneys are not disintegrating from diabetes. Yay.

18 July 2001

The psychiatrist agreed to continue prescribing me drugs. Yay.

Last night's exciting dream involved terraforming Jupiter: modify the temperature and atmosphere to be human-compatible (I think; maybe there was some modification of humanity too) and then inflate it so there's a huge human-habitable volume of great three-dimensional cloudscapes. Our Heroine was raised on (in?) Jupiter and eventually rose to rule it. Whether she ruled well or poorly, she was eventually overthrown by someone else, or many someone elses, who did not appear to be natives. Chase scenes ensued, on huge blocky platforms and stairs of white marble floating apparently unsupported in the semi-infinite air. Despite the far-future nature of the setting, everyone carried swords, which made things a lot easier, even when they threw them. Finally O.H. managed to break line-of-sight long enough to get rid of the distinctive blue glow that marked her as a noble of the old regime and disguise herself as one of the usurpers. That only worked for a while though, and eventually she was spotted and had to run for it again, down one of the cyclopean staircases with only two supporters. The woman was wounded by a thrown sword and died from being dragged down the staircase, and the man made a last stand over her body, covering O.H.'s escape.

What the new regime didn't know was that O.H. had retained, or recovered, control of one of the black holes that powered the whole thing. It only gave her a measly 4-5% of the Sun's output to play with, but hopefully that would be enough. Going further down the staircase, to where not only the stairs but the width of the triangular helix they formed tapered toward the point where the black hole lived and, wedging herself into a corner where she'd be safe, used the black hole to launch the whole stairway away from the occupied platform.

A stairway with a black hole at one end makes a poor ship, but it was going okay until the Master Villainess (backed up by her dark-robed council of flunkies) opened fire with the big lasers. O.H. was shielded from direct hits by the black hole at the trailing tip of the stairs, but enough got shot away that she couldn't continue, and then usurper swordsmen wearing robes that functioned as spacesuits boarded, stuffed her into a robe, and hauled her off for trial.

Then the alarm went off and I got up early to go to Sunnyvale, so now I am a sleeeepy parasite.

17 July 2001

The only thing of interest that happened today was that I went to the Bertani-Youngs' to watch another few episodes of Sailor Moon Super S: The Condensed Version (which seems to contain about 2/3 of the episodes).

Now I must go to bed early so I can get up early and go tell the psychiatrist lady that my drugs are still working.

16 July 2001

Therapy today, whee. Since I bitch about not getting chicks so much, my homework is to find a paper with local personal ads and go through it, circling the ones that seem interesting. Then Norm will interrogate me on why those particular ones, or something.

Writing night! Got off to a late start between eating dinner inefficiently and not wanting to stop MUDding, but I got a thousand words done, so I am not displeased.

15 July 2001

Today, I went to Ayse's BAMM graduation from the Level Two class. Many simulated muggers were kicked in the head by students and graduates of past classes alike. Very hard.

Grocery shopping, the graduation, and dinner afterwards with much conversation... Yah, that pretty much covers today.

Work tomorrow, bleagh.

14 July 2001

Amber High School went well. For a change, we had an actual adventure: trapped with non-functional Trumps in a Shadow full of vampires and combine harvesters . Fortunately, we were in a sort of a dwelling, so the vampires couldn't really get at us, and our spiffy new sorcerer was able to disenchant the combine harvester, but it was a nerve-wracking night. Now we have determined that we must free the people of this Shadow from the vampiric scourge, which gives us something to do with our vacations.

By amusing coincidence, the issue of Dragon that I discovered in my mailbox after gaming has an article on fighting vampires.

13 July 2001

Tonight has been the night of much fine Japanese visual entertainment. Final Fantasy: The Spirits Within was, if somewhat lacking in plot and snappiness of dialog, visually very impressive, and had reasonably original monsters.

Though not Japanese (unless Japan has recently annexed NZ), the trailer for Fellowship of the Ring was very fine. Tentacles standing on end and everything.

Then, because I have no life, I stayed up watching the last three episodes of Weiss Kreuz. No spoilers here, but it was pretty swell, although many things were just not explained.

Now there should be sleeping, because I have to play Amber High School tomorrow. I hope I remember what my character is like.

12 July 2001

No Infinite Sea tonight, because Janis is sick. So more Weiss Kreuz!

* * *

Only three episodes left! But now it is time for sleeping, so I will finish up um sometime later. Maybe Saturday night, since tomorrow night I am apparently going to watch the Final Fantasy movie with Marith.

10 July 2001

Argh. For the first time in like ten or fifteen years (no, really!) I failed to have my alarm set for the correct time to get. I guess my habit of obsessively checking that my clock-radio is both in the correct alarm mode and set to the correct alarm time is actually important.

So much for sneaking away from work early to make sure I have plenty of time to hike to anime. Feh.

I have declared what I wrote last night to be the completion of a chapter. Test readers have unanimously called it sweet. I think my manliness is supposed to be impugned or something.

* * *

Okay, it's pretty definite that I'm going to Hell. Not only has another large pile of stuff arrived from Amazon, thus driving the stake deeper into the heart of local merchants, but I have fed the crawling evil that is the MPAA by purchasing a DVD.

9 July 2001

Although idleness gets boring after a while, it's amazing how work doesn't get any more appealing.

Instead of watching the remaining 10 episodes of Weiss Kreuz, I wrote, because Monday is Writing Night. Perhaps I have finished a chapter, but perhaps not.

Tomorrow is Anime Night, Wednesday is New Comics Night, Thursday is Gaming Night, Saturday is Gaming Day, and Sunday afternoon at least is also booked, so I have no idea when I *will* get to finish Weiss Kreuz. Sniff.

8 July 2001

Sniff, no more vacation. :(

I don't actually have to go to work until tomorrow, but the routine is already closing in: buy healthy food to eat at work, make sure I have sufficient clean laundry, force myself to put down whatever book I'm reading promptly at 22:00, ...

But I have October Project to listen to, which pretty much makes everything okay.

7 July 2001

Well, that was a night. About the time I wanted to go to bed, our local example of why investing in legislators is just good financial sense started spazzing the power on and off. Just when it looked like they had gotten their act together enough that it seemed worthwhile to start the stupid STUPID Mac creature, they went out for an extended period, so I finally gave up and went to bed.

Whether because in the irritation I forgot to take my somnia pill or because my fan was unable to provide coolth and a street-noise-curing hum, I failed utterly to sleep for quite some time, tossing and turning and replanning (probably for the better) writing projects I should currently be working on. Eventually I remembered to take a pill, and shortly after that the power (and hence fan) came on, and that's when the really surreal part started.

First dream sequence: I, more or less myself, as a character on Buffy. No fighting ability, no respect, almost no screen time, but hey, I'd survived six seasons (apparently, this alternate universe was a year ahead of us, bastards) which is pretty darn good for a normal human in that setting. Miscellaneous running around, culminating in having to kill a demon doctor in a clinic which actually did fix people up... if you gave the doctor another person to eat or experiment on or whatever it is demons do. That was sort of difficult, since when I seized a bone saw and cut his head in half vertically, it reformed into two heads, but a handy bottle of Corrosive Fluid(TM) (as seen on TV) put a stop to that.

That segued into something I don't recall to even that limited extent, involving a giant creature of some kind that normally lived in a big cave only slightly larger than itself (possibly attached to the demon clinic, thus providing an actual segue) and was vaguely trustworthy, but occasionally displayed alarming powers like shrinking to human size or passing through solid matter.

Part three of that sequence involved three or four old men who were apparently all aspects or iterations or timeslices or something of a Spanish explorer from the early part of last century, annoying a fairly ordinary modern family who wanted to be polite to the old guys, but didn't really understand. There was descent in gravity-powered carts along a path spiraling around the inside of a very large, sourcelessly lit shaft, and at one point the old guys appeared or were symbolized as Lego men, disassembled to keep them out of trouble but still with a tendency to move when no one was watching. In fact, one head+torso managed to attach some legs and make his way over to a separate pile containing some arms, which he was in the process of attaching when apprehended. I'm not sure how this connected from the last bit, except that the giant creature might have been going to the house where the old men were confusing the normals when it was demonstrating ability to get out of its cave.

Second dream sequence: I was reading the third of a series of Tamora Pierce books (which do not actually exist, alas) of the same pattern as the Tortall books: young girl goes to the capital to become woman warrior in defiance of suckful medieval attitudes. At the end of the third of these imaginary books, Our Heroine, whose name was inconstant in the way of all dream-writing but seemed to average out to Coralen, or maybe Coralenth, was fourteen and had helped a cop-equivalent (not just city watch, but an investigator of some kind) solve a mystery of some kind that may or may or not have been related to the kittens being raised under his desk. At the same time I was reading this book (and also experiencing it almost first-person, in the way of books read in dreams) I was apparently transcribing it into my external brain, so I'd have it more conveniently available for rereading or something.

More wandering around, at a festival of some sort in a grassy place with archaic buildings (looked like a university campus to my modern brain, but was probably supposed to be a noble or royal estate), while assorted people gossiped about Our Heroine having a crush on the cop guy. Then a Mysterious Noble appeared, and turned out to be female, to the suprise of Our Heroine (and others), and took O.H. under her wing. Needless to say, O.H. was then accused of having a crush on the M.N., whose name only appeared once and thus was unambiguously Giulianne. However, G. was acting pretty strange and O.H. eventually deduced that she was possessed by a spirit from another, more thoroughly paved world (EG, ours; TamoraPierceMUD, anyone?). Like a good subject, she tried to inform the queen of this, but (of course) the queen was possessed too.

Then one of those unpleasant trying-to-wake-up-but-never-reaching-full-consciousness sequences, made less unpleasant by the "awake" state not being the real world, but something archaic but more money-intensive than anyplace I've ever lived. Apparently I had been lying around semiconscious in a dressing gown for an extended period, because the mother of the person I was in the dream was about to leave after visiting for a week, and was grumbling about not having gotten to talk to me for more than few moments.

I knew I was finally awake when the snippet "We can fall from rocket's red glare / Down to 'Brother can you spare--' / Another war -- another waste land -- / And another lost generation..." (from "Between The Wheels" by Rush) started playing in my head, as I remembered it having done before I went to sleep. Not that I really needed it; I can usually tell when I am really awake when I'm awake; it's only when I'm asleep that I get false positives (and never remember to pinch myself, not that I think it would help any).

And no, I don't feel guilty about blathering on about my dreams; if you're bored, go find a more interesting page to read.

6 July 2001

My Amazon shipment finally arrived! Hurrah! Now I have 15(!) Tamora Pierce (young adult fantasy) books, which is apparently everything she's written that's appeared in paperback so far. Oh, and two more random SF books.

Also, I have successfully obtained stamps with which to pay my bills, and picked up my nice clean garments from the cleaner's, and my apartment has been declared termite-free.

4 July 2001

Happy "Bite Me, Georgie" Day!

Yesterday, I accomplished everything I had set forth to do, and even did some extra bonus job work. Today, I have accomplished the one thing I set forth to do (see Atlantis). I'm not sure where this leaves me for the rest of my vacation, or even the rest of my day. Perhaps I will succeed in writing more, or perhaps I will just read a lot.

Atlantis was pretty okay. It had reasonable dialogue, no cute animal companion, and no musical numbers, which is a fair amount of progress for Disney. The art was interesting, and in some places really very nice, and the Atlantean princess was a cutie. However, it had standard Disney plot #3, with almost no elaboration, and only one of the Atlanteans got any personality development (only a handful got any lines at all). So, it was no Road to El Dorado, but it was worth matinee price, at least.

Apparently, my Amazon shipment travelled in the usual way as far as Sunnyvale (about ten kilometers from where I sit), and then mysteriously teleported to Idaho, of all places. Now it is slowly creeping back toward California. I am very confused (but not, apparently, as confused as UPS).

Yesterday's extra bonus loot: History of the World, one of the few board games I like. Sadly, it is the new improved version, with extra marketing glitzconsumer appeal, but the nice clean version is out of print and I have not yet succumbed to the pit of despair and poverty that is eBay. Plus, I used up the last of the Gamescape store credit Geni left me when she fled the country, so the amount I actually paid wasn't excessive.

3 July 2001

I have been asked to put up my own opinion on the argument over the preservation of mystery. I don't believe this will do any good, in the sense of persuading anyone to my views, or even making people take my opinion more seriously, but here it is:

To say "I don't want to know that; I'd rather imagine what might be there" is to reject fact in favor of fancy, which I view as an abdication of one's existance as a rational being (and though rationality has gotten a lot of bad press lately, it still beats the alternatives). One can't even claim this view is necessary to permit the exercise of imagination, because for every question we answer about the world, there are a thousand more to be asked, and wondered about.

Even if, in any particular instance, thinking this way does no harm, it's still the mindset that brings us Creation "Science" and a myriad other ills of its ilk, and it's still wrong, just like stealing something worth only 59 cents is still theft.

You may now go back to ridiculing me. I'm off to see Tomb Raider.

* * *

Tomb Raider was mediocre action-adventure, clearly aimed at the niche market of mammalian-dominated planets. About as good as Mummy Returns, I'd say.

So, no intellectual activity occured at the theater, but I had two bus rides during which I could contemplate how poorly written my above rant is, and try to come up with a more memorable way to phrase it. Here goes nothing.

A worldview is, sort of by definition, a model of the world and how it works, and therefore what you can expect from it. Every sophont has its own worldview, but they fall into distinct enough categories that one can reasonably speak of the scientific worldview, the religious worldview, etc.

Because knowledge is finite, any worldview has to be constructed both of verifiable facts and unverified or unverifiable supposition. What makes the scientific worldview unique is that it treats supposition only as a temporary scaffolding to extend the solid structure formed of blocks of fact, or to shore in place facts not well connected to each other: when facts become available, the supposition is discarded and the facts put in its place. (Likewise, facts that prove flawed, and unable to support the palace of knowledge, are discarded and replaced by more sound ones, in a perpetual renovation*.)

Because science uses supposition primarily at the edges, and no longer than necessary, it has a much more solid structure than worldviews build upon cores of supposition and only later encased in fact. Certainly you can build usable structures that contain a large proportion of lathe and plaster, and even quite beautiful ones of nothing else, but they will not be as strong as one built of solid masonry, and that is why biologists and doctors, not priests or "alien abductees", cured poliomyelitis.

Now, every sophont is free to build its worldview out of whatever mix of those materials it finds fitting, but the ones that build their worldviews primarily out of supposition should keep in mind that they are only alive to do so because of those who preferred usable facts.

(This is probably a sons of Mary vs sons of Martha thing.)

*There is a common image of scientists as rigid dogmatists who know the One Truth and brook no deviation or revision; this image is then used to support the claim that they are really just priests of a religion with modern trappings but identical essence to all others. I think this quote from a real, formerly live, scientist says all that's necessary here:

"In science it often happens that scientists say, 'You know that's a really good argument; my position is mistaken,' and then they actually change their minds and you never hear that old view from them again. They really do it. It doesn't happen as often as it should, because scientists are human and change is sometimes painful. But it happens every day. I cannot recall the last time something like that happened in politics or religion." -- Carl Sagan, 1987 CSICOP keynote address

End of 2 July 2001

I have actually done everything that was on my todo list for today! Between that and dinner, I ended up slogging like 8 kilometers in Earth's hideous gravitational field, so I only wrote 555 words, but still! Accomplishment!

Tomorrow, I will take the clothes too stained or expensive to launder to the cleaner's, see a movie or two, and call my mom.

2 July 2001

For reasons that are not entirely clear (perhaps 9 for 4 was too efficient a use of vacation days to pass up?) I have taken the four days of this week that are not Independence Day as vacation. And what, you may ask, do I plan to do with this vacation?

On the agenda for today, my first day of vaction, I have:

  • Do a hit of Web
  • Refill prescription
  • Do laundry
  • Go grocery shopping
  • Expire of anticipation over my incoming Amazon order
  • Write

Later in the week I hope to accomplish many other exciting things, such as:

  • Read my Amazon order (the parts I haven't already read, anyway)
  • See Atlantis
  • See Tomb Raider
  • Pick up comics

(One problem with being on record as opposed to all forms of imagination is that one is not then considered friend material by anyone who values imagination, which is pretty much everyone I know. This is very sad, of course, but from the standpoint of the reader, what it mostly does is make my page even duller than it was before. Flee now while you still can.)

1 July 2001

A new month! Time to work on the archival system for keeping records of previous months accessible in a vaguely Euclidian fashion. It'll be kind of funny-looking with only one previous month archived, but oh well.


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