Andrew, this afternoon, in my room, lifting the tip of Paige's African umbrella to my crotch: ‘I'm psyched about this year. See, this is what I miss about living together, the inappropriate touching’.
This year should be good. It will be. Can't let hope plateau to an ‘eh’.
ONE
Secret of Mana arrived in the mail yesterday. Kaiser, Tevwui, and Leila (especially Leila) are levelling up on their weapons and overall well-being, by killing Iffishes. And then it's off to find Undine.
TWO
Last semester's tuition is [finally] completely paid.
THREE
Today is payday.
(And one reason next week sucks… Hint: it involves packing and moving back to campus on August 22nd so that slackers can try to finally graduate.)
It's called MSBlast or Blaster.Worm or something. WinXP and either Win2000 or WinNT users are especially vulnerable. I don't know how dangerous it is, but it can come into your system through port 135. So, find a patch to keep it out.
I had it. It's pretty easy to fix since no harm seems to have been done. Just requires a patch, a hault to the system process (msblast.exe), and then deletion of the file.
So my brother and I are watching My Big Fat Greek Wedding this morning and we see a scene where Tula's mom is ‘spitting’ (just the sound and action, no actual spit) on one of her nephews. Ian asks Nick if she was indeed spitting on the kid and Nick replies something like, ‘Yes. It's supposed to keep the devil away’.
Which is strange, because my mom does that sometimes. (Most often when we catch her offguard and scare her.) Her younger sister did that too last year while we were in Bangladesh. In fact, she tried to get me to do it but I refused. She kept insisting but I couldn't keep a straight face, and when I finally tried, I started laughing after the first spit.
Anyway, I never actually knew why they did that, but movie shed light on it. Still, it's odd that those two distant cultures do something strange like that. Where'd it start?
The making of espresso is a craft. It boils down to two major factors (assuming a pump machine is used): the tamping pressure, and the grind.
A perfect shot of espresso, from what I've read, has, first and foremost, a thick layer of crema. It also has a fairly thick consistency and lots of flavor, with no bitterness.
As far as grind, whole beans ground fresh are preferred to pre-ground beans because, once beans are ground, they start to lose their flavor and freshness at a fast rate. Size also matters: grind too big and the water passes through fast; grind too fine and the water passes through slow. The former causes weak flavor, the latter bitter.
Enter the tamp, the process in which you compact the espresso grind. You can tamp too soft or too hard – again, water passing through too fast or too slow. The ideal pressure is 25–30 lbs.
This has a point. I bought a Briel Lido, a cheap but good pump espresso machine, a few weeks ago. I also have illy espresso ground (perfectly ground, they say). And, I've been having no luck in getting a good shot. They've all come out with thin crema that tends to go away before the drink is finished.
Except this morning.
Today's crema was immensely thick. Lasted until the end. I was happy, but what exactly was it? The ground has been a constant, so I can eliminate that. It then comes down to tamping, or maybe even the amount of ground I use (though that's been fairly constant as well).
I tried again this afternoon but again got the same normal results. What did I do right this morning? It's something so subtle. Maybe… I think I tamped it a couple of more times than usual?
Bah. This is no fair.
The Iroquois County Courthouse was more fun than I could've thought. Judge Youck was amusing in his remarks, just in the way he presented himself as a no-shit, common sense guy and his reactions to the silly things that have presented themselves over countless cases.
‘Funniest’ case was the first man he called, who wasn't there at the time. And apparently, this was just one of many non-appearances (one case dated back to eight years ago). But he did show up. The judge wondered why he never paid his fines but managed to pay for bond when he was jailed, so he told this guy that he was in criminal contempt of a civil court and would thus have to spend time in jail.
The ‘audience’ had a good chuckle throughout, except maybe at the end. Probably because he said he's raising a daughter.
As far as my case, the judge was ‘ready to throw my case out’ after looking at my optomologist's note. The county prosecutor, having already read the note, was looking at my corrected license at that time and said with some surprised agreement, ‘So moved’.
That tone made me happy. VICTORY IS MINE.
Today was simply beautiful. Such a good day to drive with the windows down. And the scenery felt more vibrant – I totally missed it the few other times I've driven up I-57. I actually felt drawn to move onto one of those farms or little towns. They all seem so isolated and nice.
About Watseka: it's a town of approximately 5700, which is roughly the size of Chatham. The biggest difference between the two is that Watseka actually has things. Like lots of local businesses and a downtown. Chatham has nothing. After some reasoning I figured that Chatham is already next to a much bigger city and Watseka is, well, kinda in the middle of nothingness.
Planned to do some exploring. Didn't feel like it in the end.
So much sugar today. Sickening, even. Two Zebra cakes, two McDonald's apple pie, a cinnamon roll, and 50 ounces of soda just isn't my style.
Et cetera, et cetera, et cetera. People are stupidly difficult sometimes. Like you want to remove yourself from all pictures of your existence.
(Also, keep an eye out for ultra-high cosmic energy rays. Discover mentions the possibility that the speed of light isn't constant everywhere, and these rays (which appear at less than one per square mile per century) may hold the key. Discover is great. Popular Science blows.)
(Double also: there are human chimeras. I just heard about them today. Interesting abnormality. (Short story: some people have two completely different sets of genes in different body parts.))
College has had only a few perks to it, of which Napster (and Napigator) were the earliest and dearest. And with it, the use of Winamp.
In the four years I've been using Winamp, there has been only one skin I've consistently and happily used. It is Laputa.
It just looks good, and it's easy to read the playlist and whatnot. It's fun, colorful without looking cluttered. It has charm. It's been good to me. Give it a shot.
And in second place, GameboyAmp.
It's been used mostly during my drawn-out days at the Department of Public Health. It's the only skin close to being a worthy substitute for Laputa.
I know very well that I don't have interesting things to say, so my pledge to you is this: more than ever, I will attempt to keep the visual sensations of this site intact, in that your eyes will feel comfortable and compelled to look at the screen.
(I say this because I'm drawn to the playlist. It makes me happy to look at.)
As I've told Derek, good or needed poops make me feel satisfied.
And meeting old high school friends (i.e. – friends you consider your ‘boys’) I've lost contact with makes me nervous. Especially if it's 1-on-1. Which is why I'm relieved that Andrew will join me and Nick for dinner tonight. (Actually, Nick and I have kept contact on and off over the last four years. But I've only seen him once during this time. And everyone knows about my gift of quietness.)
Beau and Mike are the only other two I need to see. Beau's number is unlisted; Mike knows it, but he's at work right now. It could've been a mini reunion tonight.
Once upon a time there was a smart chap named Ian, whose father, Terry, was the IT manager of American Licorice (heretoforth abbreviated as amlic).
In the year of 2001 the president of amlic wanted a system in which the company could get more useful, detailed information about who its consumers are, as opposed to relying on a third-party to give them general statistics. Thus was born Betatasters.com.
Months passed, as consultants were supposedly hired to start the process of planning the system. And then Ian came along, putting many hours into the backbone of the system.
One day, some 15–18 months later, two men by the name of Will and Kaiser discovered that amlic was hiring, and so they, with the thought of good pay, unwittingly stepped into what was then a complex web of code, with some strands broken and other strands that disappeared into a perplexing dimensional gateway of ‘Is this particular thing or way necessary?’
Several months passed, and the end of the summer of 2003 was drawing near. Progress was a bit slow, and there was still quite a ways to go.
And then…
And then a teleconference, one week after a previous teleconference (which, as you might have guess by now) went disappointingly. Terry was upset. This week in question was a test of redemption, and though no leaps or bounds were made in progress, they were in some ways redeemed. Terry did not feel the need to show his disappointment.
Above all else, though, was some shocking news: Ian and Will were being scratched out of the project, a project still in its alpha stages, a project still yearning for a complete skeleton, a heart, a mind, slight or even extreme (but complete) blemishes on the flesh.
It was then that Kaiser felt a bit… worried.
The light to this was that he had a somewhat God-like grip on the final stages of implementation, to program in the most optimized way, to not have to coordinate with others on changes to code, and to change whatever else that he had the power to improve.
And, simultaneously, the final success of the project rested squarely on him. Thus, he was named Atlas. Flabby Atlas.
The middle.
I need a shoulder to cry on or nap on. Or bite.
It's almost 10:30. I have another teleconference with supervisor and stuff tomorrow. This one chunk of code I wrote (spanning 1700 lines) all of a sudden isn't working like it used to, to put it succintly. It's more muddled than that.
Why is giving up not an option? I made a wrong decision maybe in keeping this job.
So Toby called me today to inform me that our lease runs out this Friday, and not the 17th as I'd believed (I misheard ‘17th’ for ‘7th’ regarding a suggestion on when I should shut off the electricity, now that I look back on it). Slightly in a panic, and because Toby was heading to campus, I decided to go today also, because the apartment wasn't in the greatest condition 10 days ago.
I get there and find the apartment practically cleared out everything, thanks to Dave. A very pleasant surprise. I was technically done within an hour. Toby hadn't arrived yet, so I thought I'd take a walk to the union to withdraw some money, and maybe Toby would be back when I returned.
So I walk to the union a bit sweaty, greasy hair, not having shaved in two days, in an undershirt and my favorite shorts ripped enough that you could see my boxers (if they hadn't ridden up my leg during the walk), and flipflops. It's officially the bummest condition I've ever appeared in public. All fun though. Walked so fast too.
And there was some scents that reminded me of Bangladesh again. That alleyway smell. And exhaust. And heat.
I stopped by Paige's on the way back to say hi, and to steal a glass of water.
Toby looks funny when he's squashed against things in the back seat while holding a laundry basket full of crap.
Thickburgers actually taste good. Not sure if it's worth the extra price, though.
Nice shower with shampooing and body scrubbing, a shave with no bleeds, and tea + honey really beats that dingy feeling.
Pete and Pete and Salute Your Shorts DVDs need to be released. Same with Clarissa Explains it All and Secret World of Alex Mack. What else is there… the pre-late '90s Nickelodeon is sorely missed.
Saafir.
I bought Bill Lambier's Combat Basketball yesterday for $2.95 (plus tax). It's been so long since I played it that I don't recognize the gameplay or graphics. I've just kept the name as a memory.
I'm fiending for SNES games again, and I've placed two bids on ebay: one for Secret of Mana, and another for Final Fantasy III.
Here's an incomlete list of other games, from days of a naïve and fun youth, that I need in an effort to complete my collection:
Super Mario RPG, Pilot Wings, F-Zeo, Final Fight, Super Street Fighter II, Super Street Fighter II Turbo (it's now appropriate to mention that I once came across the original Street Fighter game at a movie theater in the Gainesville, FL mall), SimCity ( this is the version that got me hooked, that made me wake up at 5 AM on the weekdays to play before going to school), Actraiser, Super Metroid (man… before I ever got around to playing the copy I did own, it was unintentionally ‘stolen’). More to come as memory is dredged.
I want a Gameboy again. I want Metroid II, Kid Icarus, and that Mario game. And Tetris.
And whatever happened to my Japanese friend Koji from 16 years ago in Oklahoma? And his two sisters? I should try to write them at their old, old address in Japan. Hopefully they haven't moved.
Longings. Yearnings. Reminescence. Sigh.
Hrmpf.
So I'm back, in pieces. Most of the site isn't created, let alone online.
Yes, I'm redoing this entire site from scratch. All code & text rewritten. In starting fresh I can, on the administrative end, do things more right.
(Like this journal, which took me +40 hours in the last week at the expense of money-paying work. But it's so damn flexible and powerful now that the last one is a total amateur. I'm thinking about releasing this code as yet another CMS.)
Anyway, bear with me as the reconstructive surgery continues. And yes, the text formatting of things still needs to be played with. My boss got mad at me and my co-worker because we're making lousy progress, so I kind of need to start cracking down on my real job, and also in putting together and designing a manual for my music professor.
It's weird just how many days have slipped by. Most everyone's forgetton about me, I bet. It's all good though. The personal satisfaction in doing what I've done in the past week is nice. A quiet victory.
Bangladeshi dinner party at our house tonight. It's time I ate.