Compliment from the wrong dude

Today I wore a dress. Very nice dress. Hoped to attract the attention of Darkside.

Instead, I got a compliment from Shrimpy.

Same legal first name. Grr. Argh. Wrong guy. Blah.

I hate allergies.

Not only do I get colds at the drop of a handkerchief, but now I evidently have allergies. What else could it be? Snot production has increased to something inhuman at random times, leaving me sneezing my head off and most unhappy, and sniffling most of the rest of the time. Clear, not colored; rather runny rather than thick. It feels like my sinuses are full of pool water.

Trying to avoid the heavy drugs. Grr. This sucks, especially when I can't get back to sleep because I can't breathe right.

I really, really hate allergies.

Silly Hyper

Found Neighbor in the labs this morning and giggled at him repetitively about all the stuff that's currently up. He doesn't mind it too much when I repeat myself, which I have a habit of doing when I'm giddy and giggly. Darkside is a little weirded by my intense goofs on NRE which aren't directed at him. His reactions promise to be interesting.

I may be more interested in programming for the psychological mapping aspects of it, rather than "what you can do with it".

We had a test in Architecture & Operating Systems (take it apart and put it together A+ cert class) today. Eleven computers, all with little things wrong inside the box. Poke nose in and figure out. Ten minutes to a station, less if you were swift. All or nothing on ten; extra credit on the eleventh. Hari and I got 80% +4/5 extra credit.

We had problems that included: loose RAM, loose processor, loose cables, unplugged power button wire, swapped-around cables, unplugged power from drives, jumpers mis-set, "It Works Better When You Plug It In", RAM in the wrong place, a simulated bad video card (knew what it was, just not how to go about fixing it... turned out to be paper in the slot), and an inadvertent bad keyboard, which wasn't part of the test.

I came out of the test with an Azz-grin on, the one that very much unsettles some people.

I think that's a good measure of career choice opportunities. If a test in the class leaves me with an Azz grin, I might enjoy doing it realtime, for real pay.

Hip

It's working again. This afternoon, my right hip popped back into place. I've been a little stiff, but otherwise fine. This is a relief. I can sit down again without pain.

We finally have the fan in my room up and running at the same time as the computer. This is necessary, both for noise blocking and for cooling purposes. This is still Arizona, regardless of air conditioning.

Nephew wanted to watch a movie tonight. I've been gradually exposing him to the classics: tonight, since Mommy was taking a nap, was Star Trek III: The Search for Spock. He loved it, and will be talking about "clone ships" (Klingon) for the next week or so.

Whooo! Hot tub time!

Nephew has been safely given dinner, and dessert, and sent to bed without fuss next to Mommy.

Time to go raid the hot tub, for the next 45 minutes until they close it!

Does Not Compute (I've got a perceptive roommate...)

Adam, thinking about it, has come to the conclusion that V's request to him to have him monogamously with her, while they are not officially dating, just with that option in the future, is unfair and a double standard, for V still has wild oats to sow as well as he does. Maintaining a non-committed monogamy with her would not just cut me out, but cut out all the other chicks he thinks of fondly and would in the future like to have fun with.

Adam cannot lie to V without first successfully deceiving himself. I think a few here can see the problems inherent in this. I Spoke to him strongly concerning the hazards of self-deception, and the way a tower of self-deceiving lies can collapse on a mind, leaving not much left to pick up and try to reformulate a working personality from the remaining shreds.

I also mentioned, though he was more than half on his way to sleep at that point, that I did not much care for the concept of a close by-choice relationship that required lies in order to remain a working relationship. It's a dearly held ideal of mine that any close-by-choice family, friend, lover relationship should have two options for truthfulness within it: the truth, or, "I do not feel comfortable discussing this/ cannot discuss this." The Vulcan "silent" response.

I remember that BJ would never let me have a thought or observation to myself; each time he saw that I was thinking something but wouldn't tell him what it was, he would try every attack at his disposal to try and get it out of me. Intimidation (pinning down and tickling, arousing and withholding sex) was not a tactic that endeared him to me. I eventually folded and told him, once, that I'd noticed a bulge in a guy's shorts (good gods, am I to confess to my fiance any time a man is attracted to me? I found it cute and endearing and not worth mention so as to respect the guy's privacy) and that this was what had gotten me so amused for those fifteen seconds after we'd left his company. I felt terrible with myself for quite some time afterwards, and began just telling him everything, whether I really wanted to or not, just so he wouldn't have the satisfaction of dragging it out of me.

The second time BJ tried strongarm tactics on me to get me to reveal something that had been told to me in confidence, I refused to fold. Votania had liked Darkside. That was it. That was all. And I wouldn't tell him. Finally, in desperation (some days later) I finally told him that this had been told to me in confidence in my capacity as religious counselor figure, and that he should at least respect the sanctity of confession.

It always irritated me that when I phrased something that I'd been trying to get through to him for days in the language that he was accustomed to hearing from church, that he would immediately spring upon the point and say, "Exactly! That's what I've been trying to share with you since forever!" when he was trying to violate the principle when it was put in my terminology.

...Double standards, in short, suck. Adam and I had sex this morning.

Also discussed with Adam the idea that if one is thinking of a girl as the sort that one hangs onto and eventually marries, that perhaps one should follow the advice of the song "Hold On Loosely (But Don't Let Go)" and remember that if one "clings too tightly, you're going to lose control." I suggested 25 as a minimum age for starting to get serious. Adam's got some serious playing around and selfdiscovery to go before he's ready to settle down. So does V. She wants to have her cake and eat her triple fudge banana split too.

I suggested to Adam, or at least I hope I successfully conveyed the point, that perhaps it would be wiser, rather than to chow that all down at once, and risk making oneself sick, to instead munch away happily on all the different flavors of ice cream in the sundae, not to mention the cherries, nuts, and bananas, and just keep the cake recipe in a pocket or a recipe box, and keep the cake's ingredients in the kitchen cabinets, so any time you get tired of the sundae, you can get out the recipe and make the cake. Having the cake made beforehand and not eating it sounds like a perfect scenario for the cake to go stale.