This is a note to one of two people who are most likely to have called me just now:

Never, ever call me and not leave a message unless you know that I'm not at home.

I was here. I could hear the phone ringing. I just couldn't get to it in time. And there's no message to let me know who called, which just pisses me off. Not enough to use *69 to call you back. No, 'cause that would cost me money. It did piss me off enough, however, to boot up my computer and blog about it when I had no intention of turning on the computer again after I left work.

Darn it, I pay money for the voicemail. Use it.

And that goes for the rest of you y'all too!

I'm leaving now. See y'all* Monday!

*I'm practicing for Texas. Is there anything else I should practice or know while I'm there?

Silly?

Amit has comments. I think I might have abused his hospitality by going on at length, however. I apologize.

How to accept a compliment without sounding like a pompous fool (and how to use up all your $.50 words in one go):

Him: Thank you for your compliment, by the way
Me: You're welcome. It's true.
Him: I don't know how to respond to that.
Him: err,
Me: Thank you?
Him: 'Thank you' sounded like I'm saying 'Yeah I'm smarter than you, thanks for noticing.'
Him: You're sweet to say so.
Him: There.
Me: Perfect!
Me: 'Thanks for the compliment' implies no judgement either way on the validity of the statement, except an appreciation of the sentiment behind it.
Him: Ahh. Good one.
Me: Wow, lots of big words. Kristin's feeling ... um ... I think I used up all my words.

Grrr. The time has come again where I have to avoid my wish list so I don't find out what I'm getting ahead of time. I am a terrible actor.

So happiness and the lack thereof has been much on my mind lately. And despite my sudden empathy with and compassion for people who find themselves in an unhappy place in life and have trouble getting out of it, I recently had a chat with someone on my feelings about Responsibility and Happiness:

In essence, I’m not a very sympathetic person to those who look to others to make them happy. Looking for a sympathetic shoulder to cry on and looking to others to dig you out of the unhappy place you're in are two different things entirely. The first is something people can expect from their friends. The other is something I think people are responsible for doing for themselves. As I lectured someone else on the other day, we're all responsible for our own happiness, no one else's, nor is anyone else responsible for ours.

My friend responded that “some of it … is not ‘make me feel better’ but ‘hey, Pollyanna, just because you had it good doesn't mean everyone did.’” Yeah? So? Reacting to someone else's happiness by pointing out that not everyone is happy is rather selfish, as far as I'm concerned. If someone is happy, why bring them down? If you're so aware of the bad things in life, then why not be more appreciative of the pleasures that someone feels at the expense of no one, instead of trying to bring them down to your level of cynicism? I know it's a natural response, but there's this thing called self-reflection and self-awareness, where you recognize what you're doing and why and can then take steps to modify your behavior towards whatever outcome you'd really like to happen.

Gosh, I guess I’m back up on my soapbox again. Remember what I said about compassion? I think it's gone with the sunshine :-)

Compliment of the Day:

Regarding the Vaio post, "It took me a while to figure out who was smarter than you."

Power Goth Girls... And No, We Ain't From Frikkin Brazil, Dammit!!!

Via JessaJune.

So I handed over a check last night for a new (to me) Sony Vaio of my very own.

Now begins the work of clearing off the stuff that the much-smarter-than-I person who used to own it needed, loading on the apps that I need, as well getting it online and transferring all the data from my pc at home to it.

And then ... and then ... and then I can do some serious work on a redesign (both functional and aesthetic) of this site. *gasp*

You know, in my copious spare time. *sigh*

Here at Startup Central we make and enable process models.

Now, before your eyes glass over and you stop paying attention, let me try to explain that in terms you'll understand. (Yes, I know, that sounded condescending, but just remember that this is the only way I'll ever understand what it is we do too. If you want a better explanation, go ask Metagrrrl. She's my boss and she knows this stuff inside and out.)

Anyway, what this means is that a customer comes to us with a process that they'd like streamlined somehow, like hiring/firing laying off, processing orders, tracking sales leads, etc. We draw up a model of the process and see how much of it can be automated using email and web pages and such, and then we make it happen.

What we're mainly concerned with is making the whole thing easy - nay, brainless - for our end customers to use. They wouldn't use it otherwise, and then where would we be?

My issue right now is that I'm being asked to draw up the documentation for this super-duper easy-to-use system that we've designed and I don't even know where to start. I mean, it's so intuitive, what the hell am I supposed to tell them?
1) Open a browser
2) Fill out the web page, click Submit.
3) Twiddle your thumbs or eat bon bons as you wait till you get another email.
4) Repeat.

Yeah, right.

Update: Metagrrrl fixed everything. She can make anything look better - she took the above instructions and made them sound intelligent and important and needed. Darn sight more than I could do with 'em.

She's good with resumés too.

Wonky?

Oooh, the Prettiest Site of the Day: The Art Renewal Center

Via Random-Abstract.

I'm going to Austin the day after tomorrow for the wedding - you know, the wedding to which no one who's attending actually lives in Austin, including the happy couple - and the thought of it just makes me tired.

I went with Jish last night to see Le Fabuleux destin d'Amélie Poulain (or, as it's called here in the U.S., Amélie).

A wonderful, wonderful movie. I enjoyed everything about it. The pacing was right, the cinematography was great, the lead was beautiful and talented. After a tough day, both emotionally and otherwise, it was nice to escape to a well-made movie for a few hours. You should go see it. No, really, you should. Just go.

Happy?

Tuesdays get better, especially when all that discussion was sort of getting you down turns out ok after all. Yes, I'm being purposefully vague. Get used to it.

Argh. Tuesdays suck.

BlogSnob - the easier way to tell people about your blog.

Via Jish.

I don't often participate in gender bashing, but I thought this email that I received this morning was pretty darn funny. For your pleasure and amusement, I present Gender Bashing:

The Washington Post held a Style Invitational in which it was postulated that English has male and female nouns, and readers were asked to assign a gender to nouns of their choice, and explain their reasons

The best submissions...

Detective Novel -- Female
Because you're not supposed to peek at its end the minute you pick it up.

Swiss Army Knife -- Male
Because even though it appears useful for a wide variety of work, it spends most of its time just opening bottles.

Kidneys -- Female
Because they always go to the bathroom in pairs.

Penlight -- Male
Because it can be turned on very easily, but isn't very bright.

Hammer -- Male
Because it hasn't evolved much over the last 5,000 years but it's handy to have around and is good for killing spiders.

Tire -- Male
Because it goes bald and often is over-inflated.

Hot air balloon -- Male
Because to get it to go anywhere you have to light a fire under it. And, of course, there's the hot air part.

Web page -- Female
Because it is always getting hit on.

alternatively...

Web page -- Male
Because you have to wait for it to reload.

Shoe -- Male
Because it is usually unpolished, with its tongue hanging out.

Copier -- Female
Because once turned off, it takes a while to warm up. or -
Because it is an effective reproductive device when the right buttons are pushed. or -
Because it can wreak havoc when the wrong buttons are pushed.

Magic 8 Ball -- Male
Because it gives monosyllabic answers that usually indicate it did not pay attention to your question.

Ziploc bags -- Male
Because they hold everything in, but you can always see right through them.

Sponges -- Female
Because they are soft and squeezable and retain water.

Critic -- Female
What, this needs to be explained?

Subway -- Male
Because it uses the same old lines to pick up people.

Hourglass -- Female
Because over time, the weight shifts to the bottom

From the Roommie: Perfume Smells Like Geek Spirit

After an uncomfortable pause, he looked straight into the eyes of the woman he'd loved for years. As he moved in for the kiss, he caught a whiff of her shoulder and immediately thought of his computer.
So much for passion.

While smelling like "digital" is the last thing most of us would consider a turn-on, real geeks might find the scent to be the ultimate aphrodisiac...

"When I open up a box of Christmas lights, it reminds me of my childhood," Krivda said. "It brings me a certain element of comfort. We think younger people might feel the same way about opening a box that holds a computer. We call it keyboard comfort."

Yipppeee!!! Back at work, which means I'm not on dialup!!! And my computer here is faster by far than the snail that my and my parents' computers emulate!!! And I managed to get up at O' Dark Thirty this morning and go work out, leaving me feeling all virtuous and stuff!! And I'm wearing a new sweater that looks pretty good on me!! And I'm seeing my friends tonight for the first time in ... in ... forever!!!!

I can't say that I'm completely over whatever was bothering me last week, but I can say that I've sort of figured out what the problem is and I'm taking steps to remedy it. The taking steps part is included in a plan to be a little more assertive about my life (which includes the pre-dawn exercise, and the flossing), which always makes me feel better.

On that note, it occurred to me this weekend that what we need as 20-somethings is a Rent-A-Mom. Someone we can pay to make our doctors appointments and buy our underwear and make sure that we eat our vegetables. Or maybe it's just me.

Update: Holy cow, turns out there is a Rent-A-Mom service, but it's not for adults. There's also a Rent-A-Mother, which seems to offer the services I need. I think I'll be calling her soon.

Notes from my Day o' Thanks:

Now I understand the frustration of using someone else's kitchen. It's their domain. Get your own.

Also, don't trust others to get the apples. Yes, the pie turned out fine. In fact, it turned out great, but I really would have felt better about it if I'd had the right apples!

The stuffing that was actually stuffed in the bird is superior to that which didn't fit in the bird and was prepared in a casserole dish.

I didn't get my laundry done, and I didn't get to learn how to knit, but I did manage to talk my grandma into loaning me many of her photo albums for a project I'm realizing only now will take up a great deal of time before Christmas, when I told her I'd get them back to her. I went through all of them tonight, looking at myself and my mom when we were kids, seeing my grandma when she was a stunning 20-something and my oh-so-dashing grandfather. It was really nice to get back in touch with my memories and my family in that way. I'll probably ask my mom for her photo albums next.

And despite my fear that time alone wouldn't do me a bit of good, I think it has. Oh, and I came up with a great strategy for Christmas gifts this year. Can't wait to get started on that project too.

And on Saturday, our power went out for over 8 hours. It was interesting to see what happens to a family so dependent on the tv and the computer for diversion when there's nothing to do. I read. Mom looked through catalogs. Dad paced and cursed the power company. The dog slept and resisted suggestions that she go outside in the rain. Funny.

That's it. That's all. It was so nice to see the family and the dog and the family friends for Thanksgiving. We have a lot to be grateful for, now as always.

A wonderful find: Diary of a Mad Monk.

I miss my friends.

Happy Thanksgiving

Ok. That's it. I've turned in everything I know to turn in at work today, and everything I want to do to my site will take more time than I'm willing to give it right now. So, um, yeah. I'm leaving.

I'm heading off into the 101, traffic, and the rain, with my laundry and two extra pairs of shoes in my trunk.

Have a Happy Turkey Day everyone. Be safe, be thankful, and don't blow all the money you don't have on Friday. See you Monday.

Update: did I say traffic?? Traffic is an understatement for what I experienced today. Got out of the office and on the freeway at 3. Didn't get Home till 7:30. Usually this trip takes me 3 hours. Tops. And I started from a point closer than usual. I feel sorry for anyone travelling to high-family concentration areas. Took me two hours just to get to Gilroy, but at least I got to go past 152, rather than sit in what must be the worst traffic ever as people try to get to the Central Valley. I hope they all make it, and I hope they make it in time for dinner tomorrow.

Saint Arnold, Patron saint of Brewers.

He is said to have spent his life warning peasants about the health hazards of drinking water. Water was not necessarily safe to drink during the dark ages, especially around towns and villages. Nasty stuff. Arnold always had the well-being of his followers close at heart.

Beer, on the other hand, was quite safe. Arnold frequently pointed this out to his congregation. He is credited with having once said, "From man's sweat and God's love, beer came into the world." It goes without saying that the people loved and revered Arnold.

Who knew??

Via 3Bruces.

Thanksgiving Travel: Start Early

Officials are telling travelers to get to the airport three hours early, because of the increased security measures.... The California Highway Patrol is entering a maximum enforcement period at 6pm Wednesday night. They will be looking for speeders and people driving under the influence. But they warn that people who are tired are just as dangerous as someone who has been drinking, so they suggest that you start early, and share the driving with someone else.

"The Recipe For Success"

... Listen to the advice of your father.
... Pay attention to your mother's stories and appreciate where you came from.
... Take action when you know something is right. You might not have the opportunity later.
... Do something just to please a child. The pay-off is enormous.
... Find satisfaction by making someone else happy.

More in the Saga of the Unhappy Person:

My word of the day is Compassion.

Generally, I have the happy and healthy person's disease of thinking that people who are chronically sick or unhappy bring at least some of it on themselves, and if they really wanted to be better, they could do so. After all, health is simply a matter of taking care of yourself, and happiness is a decision one makes about how they want to feel, right? To some extent, I still believe that and I don't think I'll ever completely lose that feeling. However, I've come to understand that sometimes unhappiness can't just be decided away.

I hope I never tell someone they shouldn't feel a certain way. I don't appreciate people telling me that I shouldn't be unhappy, or trying to talk me out of feeling the way I do. I mean, I understand that they do that because they care for me, and they don't want me to feel bad, but I really wish they'd just be there for me and listen to me when I speak, rather than trying to 'fix' me. I am not broken, and I am not a fixer-upper project. I know where I am. I can see where I want to be. The path from one place to the other may be as clear as day to everyone else, but I need to find it on my own. And denying my feelings or pretending they're not there just makes it worse later on (which is what I'm going through now). My recent experiences facing the "let's just be friends" and first-time jealousy have reinforced my philosophy that the best way to get past feelings is to be immersed in them, experience them fully, and move on, having taken as much as I can from them to apply the next time I get sideswiped by "bad" feelings. Unfortunately, this means that I go through periods of unpleasantness during which it is difficult to smile or muster up a convincing level of enthusiasm for anything.

I don't know why I'm unhappy. I don't know what I want. I don't even know what I need. And it kills me that I need time away from the people I care about most to figure it all out. Better that, though, than bringing them all down with me. I'm no fun when I'm like this.

Wow, this went from a piece about compassion to a rant. Oh well. I'll bring it back to compassion by saying that I now understand that unhappiness is not something that is so easy to attain, and some people have a harder time getting there than others. But that doesn't mean that they don't want to be happy. And I'll think a little more when I try to help others, and not try to dictate to them how they should feel.

ps
there are no hidden messages to anyone in this message. It's not about you. Or you. Or you, for that matter. It's about me and my issues. As it usually is.

The Grey Book is the journal of Ian McKellen, the actor behind Gandalf the Grey in Lord of the Rings.

If it weren't the director of "Heavenly Creatures" in control, with a strong vision of all those precise, quirky, majestic locations, I should not much look forward to a full year away from my home in London. But Peter Jackson's designs, script and his unshowy dedication to the task are irresistible. Had I been unable to play Gandalf (because of an encroaching "X-Men" schedule), I should have hoped for another less time-consuming part later in the trilogy.

I am aware of the high expectations of Tolkien's fans - like myself. But, never having imagined that I would ever play any sort of wizard, I am ill-prepared. I just worked with a witch, however, a white one, whose spells are formidable. Her energy is impressive. I shall have to come to understand the nature of Gandalf's energy - what keeps him going. What keeps any of us going?

A big project. I wish them luck when "The Lord of the Rings" starts shooting (without me) in October 1999." -- Ian McKellen, London, 14 August 1999

Mighty Girl pointed this out: gimmebackmygod. I like it.

Funniest thing I've seen today: captions blog. Go be funny.

Via Dave.

Time For Your Meds

It's a dirty, disgusting business, but someone has to pass out the Prozac.

Very cool. Rock Scissor Paper: Modern Vintage Design Stationery.

Via Elise.

I need to use this button more often at work. And when I'm home.

Why is it that when I'm upset, people start apologizing all over the place and I end up comforting them??

$350 camera for $40! Amazon messed up

I haven't figured out how long it will print, but certainly forever and another day.

- My boss.

Love is my heroin, a lesson about the need to spend some time alone, developing a platonic relationship with yourself.

I wrote three posts late today. One was slightly funny about my fear of commitment when it comes to anything except romantic relationships and debt. The second was a very bitter post about an emotional outburst that's been waiting in the wings for weeks now, and was unexpectedly cued this evening. And the last was about "train wreck" sites, which serve to make the writers feel important because their life is unhappy and tend to bore/depress readers (which was where this site was heading). They're gone now. They weren't that interesting to begin with.

So I had my cry. I locked myself in my room with some cheese and crackers. Turned on Vivaldi. Wrote out all the things that have been bothering me recently. Deleted them. Finished up by organizing and filing all my bills, a task I haven't done since I moved in here in July. I feel better now. A long weekend away will give me and my troubles a break from one another, and we'll come back next week, ready to reconcile and see if we can't work out our differences.

Secret Santa, a good way to make sure that you get something for Christmas (as well as have the opportunity to give, don't forget the joy in that too!).

Via Polyester Lester.

I just remembered that I'm supposed to be looking for an apartment. *sigh*

A special friend recently purchased the Hybrid Theory CD for me, and I just can't seem to get enough of it.

Who'd a thunk I'd be such a fan of Angry White Boy (tm) music??

Coolest new blog (well, the coolest/newest blog to me): Bloggus Caesari

Well, it looks like I might be away more than I'd like, so I decided to set up this blog. My friends in Rome can keep track of what I'm up to amongst the barbarians..

I never knew geeks could be so much fun before I moved to Silicon Valley.

I present to you The OSI 7-Layer Dating Model.

What Women Talk About When They Go to the Bathroom in Groups

Via 3Bruces.

Congratulations, you're rickets!

Caused by insufficient phosphorous, vitamin D and/or sunlight, you cause those unlucky enough to suffer you to have swelling in the joints, and bending of the longer bones (such as those found in the legs) in growing children.

You're not very prevalent in affluent societies any more - but don't worry, there's always the third world!

Via BobtheCorgi.

I cannot tell you how happy I am that this is a three-day week. Not only that, but it's a three-day week followed by going Home Wednesday night, getting up on Thursday, going to my grandma's house (over the hills and through the woods and all that ...) and baking a pie and maybe learning how to knit ... and then having a wonderful Thanksgiving dinner ... to be followed by 3 days of nothing. Blessed, absolute nothing.

It's the last time till January I'll have a weekend where I don't have to do anything but be with the people I love. And Daisy.

Ev questions his resemblance to Howard Jones.

I'm probably alone in this, but I hate walking into work and finding a magazine with a half-naked woman on it on my desk. I mean really. Just because I order stuff from the Hanes catalog and have it sent to my work because I don't trust my neighbors to leave packages left on my doorstep alone does not mean that I want the catalog sent to my place of business. I swear. It might be a classier rag than Victoria's Secret or Frederick's of Hollywood, but you wouldn't know that from the picture of a woman with her sweater unbuttoned to show her bra on the cover.

Well, I thought I'd say something about Ernie's birthday party on Saturday, but Philo does a much better job of it. So does Min Jung Kim. And Jesse. Oh, and Bill.

Just went to see Harry Potter ... a mere 26 hours after I finished the book.

A tip: don't watch a movie when you've just finished the book. It was a good movie, but I think it would have been better if I didn't have the running commentary in my mind: "They skipped that part altogether ... they moved that around ... they re-wrote that part ... I really wanted to see that chess game ... why did they cut that dialogue? ...."

Personally, as I read the book, I thought it translated beautifully into a movie, but I understand that they had to move and consolidate stuff to fit it into the 2 1/2 movie that it turned out to be. (Tip #2: if you're not enamoured of watching a movie with people who don't know better than to bring babies and/or toddlers to a 2 1/2 hour movie, then go see the night show. You'll still get kids, but maybe they'll have fallen asleep.) Alan Rickman didn't put in as much of a show as I expected, but everyone else was great.

I briefly considered stopping my reading of the Lord of the Rings, but ... I found this morning that I'm more than halfway through the book, and stopping now would be silly. I'm hoping that if I finish the book this weekend, then maybe some of the details will be fuzzy in my head and I can stop the internal commentary. And maybe Liv Tyler's bad performance will distract me from what they had to change in the movie.

A good comedy show, a good party, and a spectacular meteor shower and my night is complete. Met a lot of neat people. Ate not nearly enough. Will not get nearly enough sleep. And Harry Potter tomorrow (oops, later today). Yup, that's about it. G'nite.

the love letter project.

you make me smile with my whole self.

Via Jocelyn.

Uh oh. Caltrain set to alter its service in April

Beginning in April, Caltrain plans to stop weekend service for up to two years so workers can complete a $100 million construction project that ultimately will provide high-speed train service between San Jose and San Francisco.

You know what this means, don't you?? After April, no more Beer Train!!

Roommie, in an attempt to make me feel better about her leaving and also to use up her season tickets to the Symphony, is taking me with her tonight to see a production of Beethoven and Rachmaninoff .

My biggest concern is that I'll be all sniffly through the show and they'll ask me to leave. I may just break down and take a decongestant.

From an email entitled "Inner Strength":

If you can start the day without caffeine or pep pills,
If you can be cheerful, ignoring aches and pains,
If you can resist complaining and boring people with your troubles,
If you can understand when loved ones are too busy to give you time,
If you can face the world without lies and deceit,
If you are very happy to see friends no matter when they drop by,
If you can conquer tension without medical help,
If you can sleep without the aid of drugs,

Then ...

You are probably a dog

Someone did a spanish translation of my site today (see: ramble, rant, delirio: No soy realmente malo. Soy justo dibujado esa manera.) and I noticed that my Links link at the right was translated to Buh-Adios. I thought it was funny.

A business partner brought in a 2 lb. box of See's Chocolates to the office today. I tried one, a co-worker tried another ... then we came up with the bright idea of cutting them all in half so that we wouldn't get any more nasty surprises.

Now it's just a matter of being able to smell out the icky fillings so that no more chocolate has to go into the trash. Unfortunately, my sniffer is being attacked by allergens and I have to keep asking the others if it's really chocolate (or something comparably good) inside the candy, instead of coconut or amaretto or mocha. Bleh! Nothing worse than having to toss out chocolate because you've bitten into something icky.

At least if there is another unpleasant surprise, only half of the offending candy needs to be thrown out. We're all about conservation around here.

On a mission to make the men around us feel better about themselves (more information later, as the site's not quite up to par just yet), Dinah, JessaJune, Roommie, and I have been dubbed Angels.

Dinah chose Kate Jackson and JessaJune got Jaclyn Smith, while I immediately picked Cheryl Ladd. Roommie is left with Farrah Fawcett . Thank god no one had to take Tanya Roberts. We're still looking for a Charlie, but Bosley's role is being taken by Kevin

This is a map of the area affected by a 1 Megaton Surface Blast, should that bomb hit my office. Below you can find the information about the damage done in the center, and the damage expected at the edges of the radius measured in the map. Like I said, the center of the map is my office. My apartment building stands in the outer ring.

Radius: 1.7 miles
[Note: The outside edge of this shaded area represents the 12 psi ((pounds per square inch) ring. Blast pressure within the ring is greater than 12 psi; blast pressure outside the ring is less than 12 psi.]
At the center of the ring lies a crater 200 feet deep and 1000 feet in diameter. The rim of this crater is 1,000 feet wide and is composed of highly radioactive soil and debris. Nothing recognizable remains within about 3,200 feet (0.6 miles) from the center, except, perhaps, the remains of some buildings' foundations. At 1.7 miles, only some of the strongest buildings -- those made of reinforced, poured concrete -- are still standing. Ninety-eight percent of the population in this area are dead.

[....]

Radius: 7.4 miles
Residences are moderately damaged. Commercial buildings have sustained minimal damage. Twenty-five percent of the population between the 2 and 1 psi rings have been injured, mainly by flying glass and debris. Many others have been injured from thermal radiation -- the heat generated by the blast. The remaining seventy-five percent are unhurt.

Via Dave.

Driving to lunch today, Dinah and I were discussing a big event we could throw for SWAB. She suggested a St. Valentine's Day ball ... after all, we know enough emotionally unavailable men who would be sure to be able to to make it.

Random line uttered upon our return, "Every now and then I come back and say 'Oh My God, there's a duck on my desk!'"

Michael Jackson ... Skeletor ... an uncanny resemblance.

Via Kevin.

Gratuit Family

We're the Gratuit family, we believe in Gratuitous family values. We have long, meaningful discussion about products you commonly see advertised on tv.

Funniest thing I've read so far this morning: "Cinnamon brick"

After re-reading the book post I'm thinking I'll take JessaJune's comment to heart and keep it brief. Apparently long posts are not my style.

Apparently telling a loved one that they're going to love you doesn't always work. When it fails, then you can sing about how sad you are. Afterward, it'll be time to belt out I will survive, a la Gloria Gaynor.

Looking over at my reading list, I realized that I have been borrowing books like there's no tomorrow. I re-ordered the list earlier to show their level of priority in my book-reading life (read: the books I want to get done before the movies comes out, followed by the big tome I've wanted to read since it came out, the book I got for my birthday and am still wading through, two books I've read countless times before, picked up when the wading of the previous book got too much and there was nothing else handy, and the book for the idiots that proves that perhaps I am more than idiotic than people give me credit for after all). And I find that half of them belong to other people. I think this, more than anything else, shows that money is tight these days, that I would borrow a book before just buying it. Not that that's a bad thing. It just is.

You know what? I just wrote this so that I'd have an entry consisting of more than four lines. I've been more than a little brief lately. Boring.

celebrates Monet's birthday beautifully.

Bleh. Rain = Ants = Raid.

Unfortunately, the impending bad health does not yet include a stuffed nose.

Not so much a tickle in the nose as a weight behind my eyes and a scratchiness in the throat ... I think I'm coming down with something.

Yippee.

Wart-biter and figpecker.

I'm a big fan of Noodlehead.

Yay! Amit's online. Already I'm jealous over the design and the writing.

Went to dinner last night with JessaJune and had a wonderful time. It's not often that I get to spend time with her all by herself.

Groups are good. Groups of friends are much better. But spending time one-on-one with a friend is the best.

Bob has moved, and she's right. You should sit down before you head over there.

Mark's being funny again.

Kinda cool. Fake or Photo? You choose which photos you think are real or computer generated. I got 7 out of 10 correct.

Via 3Bruces.

Bowling at the Presidio. I was there. Really.

Just got a call from my dad in Texas. Seems I'm flying out to Austin in two weeks for a wedding. Hopefully this time, the wedding will actually happen. I heard deposits were put down, so I think we're ok.

watching expired appliances align

after two drinks at my local bar saturday night, a friend and i realized that someone we knew was having a party. we came back to my place, ... had a shot of slovakian alcohol and jumped in a car...

Sigh.

Dr. Verne's Northern White Trash Etiquette

Defending our right to shoot road signs, buy huge satellite dishes and wear his-and-hers Marlboro jackets for over 10 months.

Via Dave

The Kenny Wayne Shepherd Band rocks!

Jish and I went to see them last night at the Fillmore and it was a pretty good show. Well, the music was good. In fact, the music was great. And Kenny and his lead singer Noah are pretty nice to look at. The show ... well, the show was, um, interesting. The lead singer could not stop calling out to all of us in SAN FRANCISCO!!! or CALIFORNIA!! and pointing his fingers at us like we were da man! And Kenny made sure we all knew that even though he wasn't singing, the band was all his.

Still, it was an awesome show, even for someone not into 3-hour long guitar solos.

Shooting To the End

Bill Biggart was a photographer who died taking pictures of the Trade Center. When his body was recovered, so were his last frames. Here is what he saw.

Via BottledBliss.

The theme song for the Hungy Hungry Hippos keeps going through my mind.

I think I'm just a little bit famished.

A missed connection from the heart: Luscious Geek--we slept together--you had to be at work by 4 AM

Via Kevin

Poor impulse control strikes again.

I just bought a book that will better my mind, so I felt justified in buying one that doesn't even pretend to do the same thing.

Hey, at least I bought them both used.

Completely unrelated to the last post, I'm not really an idiot. I just play one on TV.

I am a web dork. This does not mean that I am overly-knowledgeable about the web. It means that although I use it every day, I have fallen far behind in understanding how all those neat things I see happen. Now I'm being called upon to do something, and I find that I have to go back to the beginning and figure out how it's all done. CSS? DHTML? XML? SHTML?? Yeah, right. So here I go, studying up on DHTML and CSS.

For those poor souls who don't have internet access but have heard about the wonder that is eBay: Ebay Auction Game

Via Spinning Jenny.

Via Mighty Girl: A Special Movie

My friends, wonderful as they are, are freaks. Each and every one of them.

Once again posting without the benefit of Blogger ...

Rainy weather is very dramatic, and I like it. The creek outside, which used to barely cover a ten-foot wide strip of the space allotted to it, is now a rushing torrent taking up all the available space. The egrets are not amused. I can't imagine where the ducks are, or what they're doing, but I can only imagine that they're having a great time. We're looking forward to a whole new set of trash when the water level goes back down. (I watched a lot of things go by in the few minutes I spent looking at the water and the birds: fast food wrappers, a soccer ball, tree branches ...)

On another note, denial is the word of the day. I'm not sure how long I can ignore the fact that a decision will have to be made about the future of my living situation, but I'm going to try for as long as possible.

Oh, and I'm going to see Kenny Wayne Shepherd tonight at the Fillmore. Yippee!!

Oh, and I should also mention that Roommie has decided that life in California is not for her anymore. With the promise of more rain (she likes rain. a lot.), more money (wouldn't we all like more money), and better research tools (she's weird that way), she has decided to move to Seattle.

So yeah. I have a month and a half to either find a roommate or another apartment. Who says I don't get enough change in my life?

Feeling better about the world in general, Booboolina.com is back. Hope y'all had a good weekend. I did.

Major Change Alert

So while the kittens took over the site, I made a few changes around here. So far, they've all concerned the archives and the comments. In essence, I changed them all to php pages and I made them monthly rather than weekly. So previous links to my archives won't work anymore, unfortunately. Sorry about the inconvenience, but it had to be done.

But there's comments. And that's what it's all about.

I was going to post something terse and depressing about how I'm not a person prone to jealousy, so I've only recently discovered just how much it sucks, but I just managed to sync up my Visor - after having it crash and lose all my information, and then losing my laptop to the development gods here at work before I could recover said lost info - and I got back all the info I thought was lost forever.

I'm good.

I haven't a clue as to why I feel compelled to post the lyrics to the country song I'm listening to now, except that it speaks of pain of the heart very succinctly, at least to me. And it's a nice song to dance to. And I really don't want the Krystal and Amanda post to be the last of the day :/

A Thousand Miles From Nowhere

Chorus:
I'm a thousand miles from nowhere
Time don't matter to me
Cause I'm a thousand miles from nowhere
And there's no place I want to be

I got heartaches in my pocket
I got echoes in my head
And all that I keep hearing
Are the cruel cruel things that you said

Chorus

I got bruises on my memory
I got tear stains on my hands
And in the mirror there's a vision
Of what used to be a man

Holy cow. I was approached not once, but twice today to have an extramarital affair with someone. Funny thing though, both Krystal and Amanda wrote the same exact letter!! (they even misspelled the same words) I wonder how that happened. Well, at least I know I have options, should this whole heterosexual dating thing fall through. We'll see.

Another good 'un via CrazyTracy

"Single professional male seeks professional female. I'm tired of the bar-games. I'm tired of the superficiality of one-night-stands and short-term relationships. I want a serious relationship with a woman of substance, guality, and grace. If this is you, and you want something above and beyond skin-deep emotions and shallow entanglements, call me. Must be thin."

When I was younger (read: when I lived at Home), I suffered from a condition called Alpha Lock. It was a term my mom came up with to describe the total absorption of attention brought on by watching the tv. Anything could happen - the ringing of the phone, people entering and/or leaving the room, whatever, and I wouldn't even be aware of it till I came out of the alpha lock at commercials, or when my mother spoke directly to me. According to her, this was a Bad Thing.

Then one year I came Home from college for spring break and I spent it babysitting my parents' friends kids. The kids were still in school, so all I had to do was get them up in the morning, get them off to school and then pick them up and entertain and feed them till it was time to go to bed. And while they were at school, all I did for that entire week was watch tv. Even while I imitated the common couch slug, I knew that what I was doing was a complete waste of my time, but I couldn't seem to pull myself away.

When the week was over and I returned to school, I had a distinct sense that I had sacrificed more brain cells to my tv marathon than I could spare. Not only that, but despite the fact that I had spent most of my time on the couch, I was exhausted. I resolved never to watch that much tv again, and I've managed to keep to that with absolutely no trouble at all.

Anyway, so this morning I got into work, put on my headphones and became instantly absorbed in my computer. Usually I am at least peripherally aware of what goes on around me in the office, even when I can't hear them, but today, ... today I finally raised my head at 10 a.m. to ask my boss if we were having a meeting, she said she didn't know and asked if my co-worker who sits next to me had come in yet, as his desk looked unoccupied. I said he hadn't come in yet, and I didn't know where he was. At that point, another co-worker stuck his head up over his computer and looked at us like we were idiots.

"Who are you talking about?" he asked.
"Niklas - he hasn't been in today and we don't know where he is," we said.
"He's right there, behind you, and he's been here for over half an hour! Didn't you see him?"

Well, at least I know I'm not the only one who has developed the alpha lock syndrome when it comes to my computer.

Seems Jisheroo has coined a new term for gatherings of 3 or more people enamoured of online personal publishing: whack of webloggers

Another wonderful bit o' writing from CrazyTracy

When the time is right I always ask my patients a question. I want them to think about what it means to feel. If you could choose between a lifetime of pain and heartache and a lifetime of feeling absolutely nothing at all, which would you choose? Granted, these people have been numbing any and all feelings with drugs and alcohol for years. But the answer is always the same. "I'd choose pain."

Yes. Because pain is feeling. Because pain is alive. Because pain is all about making you aware of the time and space between the ticks on that clock...where life is unfolding before you and around you and within you.

It is the fear of pain that makes most of us run away from it. It is the fear of heartache and disillusionment that makes us do whatever we can to keep from getting hurt. You have to learn to love pain. You have to let yourself get filled up with it. You have to walk around with it and live with it and carry it in your pocket. Until you do that, you will always be afraid.

Most of my patients know that.

Some are still running away.

Having done my musical penance with Dido and Enigma, now I get to listen to some good ol' country. Damn, I wish there was a dance hall to go to around here.

Why do I like country music? You get love lyrics like these:
For Your Love

For you love I'd rope the moon
And put it in a blender
Mix up a concoction bound to make you surrender
I'd bite the brand off a buckin' brahma bull
I'd rob me a gin mill
Then I'd fill the ocean full

I'd take on the army
And Her Majesty's marines
Your love ain't just the cover
It's the whole magazine

For your love I'd stop a freight train
Single handed
I would straighten out the bends in the Rio Grande
I'd climb up the tower at the T.V. station
Broadcast my affection to the United Nations

I'd take on the government
In Washington D.C.
Your love ain't just the en-jine
It's a rockin' machine

(Chorus)
For your love...I'd stop the hands of time
For your love...I'd dig a diamond mine
For your love...I'd do it all the time

For your love I'd walk a tight rope
And wrestle anacondas
Jump a motorcycle over half a dozen hondas
Carve your initials on a forest of bamboo
Paint the Brooklyn Bridge baby pink with a broom

I'd take on the press
From Tokyo to Pravda
Your love ain't just the hot sauce
It's the whole enchilada

(Repeat chorus)
******************

By the way, this is a swing tune... or a really fast two-step. I need to go dancing.

Simultaneously, I have stopped receiving email when I get comments and when I go to MyYahoo, there's no indication of when I have new mail.

Coincidence? Hmmm...

Ambivalent. It's My Word of the Day.

Roommie is planning on moving away by the end of the year. I'm conflicted for her sake as well as mine - she left the interview for the job in Seattle with a bad taste in her mouth, yet she thinks this is the only opportunity she'll be offered, so she's willing to go for it. I don't want her to go into a situation that will be more unpleasant than the one she's in here, but she's come to really look forward to taking the job. The change and the opportunity to buy a house is good for her, and I'm happy for her. As for me, I need to think about a new living situation. Again. I thought I had at least six more months to not think about this.

I'm not dating. On the one hand, it's a bad idea for me to date right now, so this is good. On the other hand, my continued failure? bad luck? misfortune? in this area is starting to get to me, and make me wonder if I'll ever have the opportunity to experience a "normal" romantic relationship again. A part of me says I'm being silly and of course it'll happen. Another part tells me to just be happy being single, and find my joy in my friends. Hmph.

All my concerns and stresses come out of these two aspects of my life. And nothing but time will take care of either.

I apologize to anyone who tries to get in touch with me via AIM or ICQ after 5 p.m. and I don't answer. The thing is, I just got a desktop computer at work with w2k on it, which for some reason they discourage you from turning off every night. I'm not used to this "leaving the computer on all night" sort of thing and I forget to sign out of my chat clients. As a result, I come in the next morning to 4 open windows, all asking me why I haven't left work yet. Let me assure you, I left promptly at 5 yesterday in order to get to the book reading last night (which was a lot of fun, btw).

Thanks for caring whether I've left work yet or not. I'll try to remember to sign out from now on.

Yeah, what he said.

It came as a surprise to me when I found out a year ago that someone other than Dinah and JessaJune read my site.

Given that, it still comes as a surprise when I learn that there are people I don't know who actually pay attention to what I write here, and try to decipher my more obscure posts (posts kept obscure to protect identities and deal with the issues as they relate to me).

Just to make things clear, I assure you all that if I write about someone here, they know they are being written about. Well, most of the time anyway. Most of my co-workers are oblivious to my site and wouldn't read it anyway. And my dad, well, he's not really interested in this site either, although I do tell him that I post his letters. Eventually.

Anyway, this blog is simply an outlet for me to work through my own issues. Sometimes they involve someone in particular, but more often, they're trends and patterns in my own life that I need to write down in order to recognize. Nothing more. No hidden meanings, no ulterior motives. The only people who should read meaning into my words are those who are directly involved, as they can usually recognize themselves in the little stories I tell. If you're not sure if what I'm writing relates to you, then it probably doesn't. Better yet, you can approach me directly and I'll be honest about whether it's about you or not. Really.

I'm getting a sound card!!!

Update: Soundcards are nice, but when the only place you can plug your headphones in is at the bottom of the back of the computer that sits under your desk, it's not much more than a nice little piece of hardware that you can't really use in an office setting.

Apparently nothing will make me happy today.

Wow. Dinah has the coolest weekends.

The good thing about eating lunch really late is that when you get back, you have much, much less time for coma-laden work before you get to leave at the end of the day. 'Course, it also screws with your dinner schedule, but when you're a social butterfly, dinner schedules don't count for much anyway.

Normally, I'd have eaten lunch by now. Or I'd be in the middle of it. Grrr... Grumble.

Every once in a while, my dad feels strongly enough to craft a message from his heart and send it along to me. I thought this was a good message to make available to the world at large.

Well, Kristin, I know we are going to write some kind of in-depth note to each other soon but today is not that day. Today I am revealing a astonishing discovery and will simultaneously insult myself. How is that for an intro to get your attention?

Several years ago, I saw a very offensive painting of a crucifix in a glass of urine. If you have ever painted anything, you know it takes considerable talent to be able to paint something like that and actually make it clear what you are depicting. My reaction was typical and negative. I thought it strained the bounds of freedom of expression. However, I am quite prepared to apologize to the guy and thank him for that painting... So, what brought about this revelation?

As I listen and watch our progress into the future, I see so many forces and trends that continue to limit and reduce the value of expression and freedom. September 11 has absolutely energized and mobilized large numbers of us along that very path. "A-terrorist-behind-every-bush" attitude has the country looking over its shoulder and making rules like crazy.

A discussion this morning on NPR was reviewing the definitions needed to define and limit child pornography in movies. What they are most proud of is that technological innovation is progressing very quickly in the imaging arts and they want to have the necessary laws in place BEFORE THE TECHNOLOGY so they can limit criminal activity WE DON'T EVEN HAVE YET!!! This is termed proactive jurisprudence I guess.

As I look at these and other laws we are passing, I see they are not prohibition of an act or a result, but actually include process, technique, and procedure. We are slowly confining ourselves more and more to a narrow path of little color or value. Our freedoms are being limited quite easily to protect even imagined victims we don't even have yet.

The painting wasn't about urine, God, or the crucifix. He was trying to insult me. He was trying to get me to feel something. He was trying to offend me and get me to defend what I believe, whatever it is. OK. Two years late, I figured it out. He is right!! The painting belongs in the National Museum of Fine Art. Not for what it is but for what it might cause, a revolution back to where we started. The past is no inspiration to me but the future is beginning to lose what it most needs to have. I am sorry it took me so long. I have to be smarter or my future really will be what I most fear, just another day like yesterday...

love you, n

I scored 56/100 on the Are You A Blogaholic? quiz. Apparently this means that You are a dedicated weblogger. You post frequently because you enjoy weblogging a lot, yet you still manage to have a social life. You're the best kind of weblogger. Way to go!

Karl Soehnlein and Alexander Chee at Clean Well Lighted Place for Books, San Francisco, reception sponsored by Central Booking. Tuesday, November 6, 6:45 PM

I'm going. You should too.

A Kristin with no music is not a very productive Kristin.

Oh my. ernie xq

Via Ev and Edmond.

New favorite site: Henry's Diary

Via Mighty Girl

maybe I had to really understand that I'm dying, possibly not so slowly, every second of every day to come to terms with the fact that at the exact same time I am also living.

I watched Sliding Doors again this weekend and I noticed something interesting. All the best lines were given to the supporting characters. In fact, the ones I wanted to blog are both from the 'other woman' in the movie, played by Jeanne Tripplehorn. This one's my favorite:

I am a woman. We don't always say what we want, but we do reserve the right to get pissed off when we don't get it. That's what makes us so fascinating, if not a little bit scary.

and I liked the imagery in this rant too ...

I'm trying to be your girlfriend Jerry! I'm trying to win you back! It's fairly simple! I'm standing on the platform at Limbo Central with my heart and soul packed in my suitcase, waiting for the Jerry-friggin-Express to roll in and tell me that my ticket is still valid, that I may reboard the train! Only the station announcer keeps coming on and telling me that my train has been delayed -- because the driver has suffered a panic attack in Indecision City! We suggest you take the bus! That's what I am trying to do, you cripple!

Just a friendly notice: I added some new stuff to my wishlist. You know, just in case you were feeling generous.

Tim has such accurate observations on San Francisco. I think he should move out here.

A Biblioblog!!

Other reading resources: Literally a Bookblog and WannaWrite? -- a Place for Poetry, Prose, and Ponderings.

Tim has posted his Halloween pictures too!

The Beer Train was a blast. Everything I thought it would be. Pictures will be posted soon.

Let this be a lesson to you: When someone asks/pressures/sells you on switching your long-distance carrier, there is a very good chance that you will lose your DSL. For at least 5 working days. Lose. Your. D. S. L.

Grrr.

Remember what I said about losing DSL? Well, apparently I'm more desperate than I thought I'd be.

On another note entirely, go read wait for me, a poem by Konstantin Simonov. It's worth it.

I think there may be something wrong with my priorities. It's just a suspicion, mind you, but ... well, I'll write about it here.

My friends have organized a Beer Train tomorrow. I've blogged it, I've announced it to the world at large. You all should know what the Beer Train is by now. This will be my third Beer Train.

The first was about a year ago. I had previously shunned this event as something obviously pandering to the alcoholics in the group, and suitable only for getting grossly drunk and making fools of the people involved. I guess I didn't realize how much fun that could be.

The second was last April. I overdid it from the beginning, when there was a miscommunication about the beer and I started off with two beers in front of me, rather than the one I had planned on beginning slowly with. It went downhill from there, with me getting pretty wasted by the time we got to Palo Alto, where I had to be pulled from the festivities for a while so that I could eat something and stop feeling so sick. We left early.

I have been looking forward to this particular trip for a long time, knowing that this time I'll get it right, and be able to manage the perfect buzz all day/night long without feeling sick. I am also determined not to leave early, as I'm sure I missed a lot last time by quittin' before most others had done so.

But this time, there is someone who'd like to spend time with me on Sunday. Preferably Sunday morning, so that we can have as much time together as possible. And what did I tell him?? I'd like to, but I don't know how I'm going to feel about being generally conscious, much less driving on Sunday. I also told him that I've been looking forward to this for much longer than I've known him.

Part of me says I need to do the Beer Train. Another part of me says get over it, take the opportunity you've been offered to be with someone who likes you. Ah well, knowing me and my legendary lack of tolerance for alcohol, it won't take much to get me drunk in the first place, and then I'll be able to hang out with him the next day as planned. Yeah, that's probably what will happen.

Bored? Why don't you go search for some crap at eBay??

Via Darin

In light of the first post of today, apparently I have to re-learn how to say no.

MetaGrrrl uttered a quotable quote last night along these lines:

My policy is to never go to bed with anyone I won't put my mouth on

As I rushed to write it down, I noticed that the calendar page I had chosen from the top of the stack o' used days had this little quote on the backside:

We all need practice in unconditional love.

A lesson for us all.

Hey, Ev has posted his pictures from the other night. Very cool. I need to get me one of those digital camera thingies sometime soon.

Not feeling particularly funny today. Or social, for that matter. I wish I could go someplace and just curl up and just be alone. Alone for a long time. 'Cause that's what I think I need. 'Balance,' a friend of mine said recently, 'you seem like you're missing balance in your life and you're not sure what you want.' Well, duh.

I've tried so hard to be adult about all this, be rational about how I'm feeling - what's appropriate and what's not -, and maintain friendships with a minimum of guilt and hard feelings ... but they don't just go away if you ignore them. They just wait till you're completely unprepared and then they walk up and kick you in the shins. Really hard.

So on that rather ambiguous note, I think I'm going to go journal shopping tonight, 'cause I have to write some of this stuff down, and this site has become a bit too public for that sort of thing. Kinda sad, really, since this is where I feel most comfortable expressing my thoughts. I'll have to get used to this "expressing your thoughts privately" thing, which will be different, since I'll talk about my feelings with almost anyone who'll sit still long enough to hear them.

So here's to privacy and growing and dealing and finding my base again ... as well as my sense of happiness.

Someone finally posted pictures from last night. Go Rusa!!

Who knew things equine could provide so much hi-larity?

Via Heather

Working for a dotcom that has thus far weathered the storm, I still have one of the more enviable perks of a company car. This post isn't about the car. It's about puppies.

I had to take the car in at some ungodly a.m. hour the other day to get the bellypan replaced. While I waited, a man drove up in a 10 year-old Porsche (I know this because he had to tell them that he bought it in 1989, not because I know anything about cars) and had to leave the motor running because the battery would die completely if he turned it off. As I zoned off looking around and waiting my turn to sign in my car, I noticed a fuzzy little head peaking over the window in the Porsche. I looked closer and, sure enough, there was a puppy in there. I looked quizzically at the owner, and he launched into his proud-new-papa spiel about his 7-week-old Golden Retriever. I was happy to listen, as I haven't been around a puppy in ages, and he obviously took such joy in the little guy. He brought the puppy out for petting, and I was more than happy to oblige. See, my grandma used to have a golden retriever called Puddles (for reasons you can probably guess), and next to Daisy, she was the best dog our family has ever had.

Anyway, as the minutes ticked by and more and more people showed up faster than the two service guys could process them, I could see quite a bit of consternation and impatience at the thought of the time spent waiting to sign cars in and for the shuttle to show up so that they could move on with their busy, busy days. When this gentleman brought the puppy back from a walk, though, the mood lifted even as the rain started coming down again. There is no denying the appeal of a warm fuzzy enthusiastic bundle of fur, no matter how anti-pet you might be.

On that note, Dean and Gail celebrated their own three month old.

Last night I got into a discussion about my feelings about the desecration of religious objects, even though I am no longer a practicing Catholic. Keep in mind that I post the following joke while maintaining the utmost respect for my former faith:

Two nuns, Sister Marilyn and Sister Helen, are travelling through Europe in their car. They get to Transylvania and are stopped at a traffic light. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a tiny little Dracula jumps onto the hood of the car and hisses through the windshield.

"Quick, quick!" shouts Sister Marilyn. "What shall we do?"

"Turn the windshield wipers on. That will get rid of the abomination," says Sister Helen.

Sister Marilyn switches them on, knocking Dracula about, but he clings on and continues hissing at the nuns.

"What shall I do now?" she shouts.

"Switch on the windshield washer. I filled it up with Holy Water at the Vatican," says Sister Helen.

Sister Marilyn turns on the windshield washer. Dracula screams as the water burns his skin, but he clings on and continues hissing at the nuns. "Now what?" shouts Sister Marilyn?

"Show him your cross," says Sister Helen.

"Now you're talking," says Sister Marilyn.

She opens the window and shouts, "Get the fuck off our car!"

I don't think I can really communicate just how pleased I am that mySWABbers group has 51 members as of now.

Suffice to say I'm pleased as punch.

A day late ...

Really good Halloween ideas that I didn't think of:

- a woman dressed as a brick and her husband dressed as a mason. He wore a sign saying "Bricklayer"

- a man dressed in a white garbage bag, with holes cut out for arms and legs, filled with shredded white paper. He wore a sign saying "White Trash"

I think I forgot to mention in the previous post that we had a helluva good time last night. The people-watching was at its best, and everyone was determined to have a good time. There was much dancing and drinking and admiring everyones' costumes, and we all finished up the evening with edamame, pretzels, and apples with caramel dipping sauce.

Yup, had a really good time.

Not. Enough. Sleep. or Wow. Whatalotta. Fun.

I'm not old dammit. I just apparently can't stay out till 3 a.m. on a Wednesday night and be expected to be real enthusiastic about coming in to work the next morning.

So yeah, a bunch of SWABbers got together at Castro and Market last night and we partied down. I wore a hodgepodge of clothing (and got a ticket later from the Fashion Police), and Roommie came dressed as Jackie O. Frost, without the frost. Maggie was dressed as a Hot Dog on a Stick girl and Brian was a corn dog. Jish was a jester of sorts, and Tim put on a wig and came as a mullet-headed rocker. Amit was a beatnik, and Ed came as preacher from The Night of the Hunter, while Tom dressed as a street performer, with guitar and portable amp. Geno made a short appearance, but left too soon for me to talk to him or really see what he was dressed up as. Bill showed up, which was very cool, and I met George, who seems like someone I'd like to know. We saw Scott and Megan early on, but lost them once we entered the crowd, which was unfortunate - Megan brought pumpkin favors, which made everyone happy who got one. And finally, Evan dressed up as a sperm and took many pictures throughout the evening.

I mentioned to someone that I live in Mountain View and they said that I need to move to San Francisco. If I continue to party up there, I just might. Being the designated driver and having to drive an hour to get home makes for a very tired me. For the first time since grad school (and I only did it for one semester while there) I am going to have to rely on caffeine to get me through today.

Hopefully we'll have those pictures very soon (ahem, ahem).