Schizy

I suppose that's how you spell it. Darkside has a new endearing nickname for me. He thinks it's so very cute.

It scares me all to hell.

I think it was yesterday. We sat together for something that resembled lunch, and I was poking at a bit of my book.

Evidently I'd already had that conversation with him. I don't remember a word of it. He remembers the whole thing.

This, my dear, is why I put everything, almost absolutely everything, into my journal. I don't want to lose more of my mind.

to Her

So, is it You who makes me content with mere figments and fragments? No blame assigned to an outside force. That which is Thou is the same as I; we are each other's weakness.

You are beautiful. I see that in the mirror, day by day, month by month, passing glance at the Thou, at the Me.

I see Your beautiful soft dark hair, fair skin with beautiful blood beneath. Dark eyes, glowing with the essence of All. Poison can dwell within beauty. Thy beauty. My beauty.

Fair skin so soft, alive: illusion. Numbing cold to the touch. So beautiful art Thou; so uncaring and kind. To end the beauty that is My pain? Sin. To touch Thy forbidden hand...

lyrics that make my hair stand on end

http://www.echoschildren.org/CDlyrics/AlysLullaby.html

LJ tag announcement

There is now a </lj-cut>.

That's right. We can now have our spoilers in the middle of our entries.

It may take a little bit to propagate, but it's most definitely here. lj_nifty! http://www.livejournal.com/talkread.bml?journal=lj_nifty&itemid=40577

See? Cooooooool.

Yuck.

My friends page looks nasty when viewed from Netscape 4.72 under Linux.

We finally got the lab computer set up with Linux. Whee!

More Linux

These are the babblings of a proto-geek. Honestly, it's probably boring as hell for real true geeks to read about me discovering that WHOAMI is not a good command in bash, but who AM I is, and so are whoami, who am i, as well as the lab book recommended who am I.

But I still think it's cool.

Wondering if I can beg and plead with digitalambience to get him to set up one of the less-nifty boxes as a whackable Linux machine so Votania and I can learn without screwing (much) up.

W2K

Still works. Whoo.

Oracle: Dreaming Aloud

Some variable names are not meant to be read aloud. Sitting with Darkside in computer lab. He's muttering something that sounds like "cursed", but evidently this is part of a variable name, rather than an incantation.

Do I make fun of Darkside much in this journal? He seems to be under the impression that I do.

Poll

[Poll #35708]

(no subject)

at least I might not be flying blind anymore. What, me drive too fast in the Dendarii canyons?

Well now, isn't this concept entertaining.

http://www.buzzflash.com/contributors/2002/05/23_Bush_Knew.html

URL included in full for the entertainment of the Fellows in the Light.

(from a comment I made) Respect; the intellectually defenceless

<snip>
He knows he's being teased, IRL. I often write up the exchanges we have, mostly for my own failing memory. (He knows about this: he's usually the one to detect when my memory's blanked a conversation we have. Illianesque, I've repeated: this was perhaps Tuesday.) I don't take jabs at the defenceless; if he's not reading it in here, it's a forum he can't defend himself in.

I talk shit about Shawn and BJ all the time, though. I suppose that's the difference between respect and lack thereof. Darkside, I respect.

I can unveil acid opinions about those I respect in a private forum. My friends list is no longer private in my eyes. My paper journals, though the security on them is much lower than my friends-only mode online, are considered by me "private", even though Darkside does see the things I write in there, every now and then. I may refer to things already hashed out in there, but the actual content, the raw side of my mind that speaks of my intense dislikes as well as my loves, rarely reaches "print" without commentary, analysis, discussion, rebuttal, and conclusion.

I think I try to avoid putting forth thoughts to the public that are not already having formed a decision. Friends get input into my thoughts before I've reached a decision; by the time I make public, I'll have made a decision, usually. My family doesn't often ask for help. ( A specific example of a time when I asked for help. )

It takes a lot to have me actually ask for help. The raw outputs of my mind get censored, and often for good reason.

Most of my LJ content is already edited. It gets past the first edit, to make it into the conscious area of my brain. It gets past the second edit to be formed into coherent words. It gets past the third edit to be referred to elliptically, on paper or in conversation. It makes it past the fourth edit to be spoken aloud. The fifth edit is writing down on private paper. The sixth edit is written down in a forum intended to be public. Seventh, actually posted.

I am aware of most of these edits.

I fear that what Darkside refers to by "making fun of", in that little bit of him that doesn't want to read the journal for fear of seeing me saying something nasty about him, refers back to something I wrote in my paper journal just before a breakdown. That's not the sort of thing I'd write in a public place. That's not ever the sort of internal emotion that I'd lay bare before an audience. That I had the notebook in a place where Darkside could see me writing this says a lot for how much I trust him. Not to hate me after seeing into my head, for one...

I'm far more private a person than my journal shows. The private things never make it into the public journal...

Home again...

Nephew's got pink eye. Oi gods. Votania evidently panicked and went on a cleaning frenzy. Marx is in a general state of amused disgruntlement, or whatever the word is for someone who doesn't think that panic is an appropriate response. He's just had too much experience with kids with it, whereas it's Votania's baby with it, and I'd think less of her as mother were she not reacting.

Fwd: Army mistakes

This brings to mind the amusing tale of the Army Lieutenant who'd written a report on a training exercise, and, intending the word 'burrow' had misspelled it 'burro'. His Captain corrected him thus: "A burro is a beast of burden, also known as an ass. A burrow is a hole in the ground. As an officer of the United States Army, you are expected to know
the difference!"

I've heard this one several times, and it only gets better.

Pinkeye

Nephew's got pinkeye. Mommy doesn't know how to deal with it, as she's never had it herself. He's miserable and it's itching like hell. He was fine while asleep.... and he's always crabby after he gets up. Plus he knows he can kick up a fuss with Mommy with no trouble, as long as he's sick. (Yes, I'm cynical. Yes, I was a character as a kid.)

Bleah.

This is such fun. Evidently there is a bit of a problem with my quiz. ...well, evidently not. He was logged out. Hm. So Darkside can't vote without a login. I shall have to giggle at him about that, when we meet next. Damn this H key, for doubling...

Brews

Started on the candle thing tonight. Paraffin wax, crayons, wick, oils. ( Nice and colorful, and it smells damn good. )

I shall have to make more of them, with different colors and scents. mmm.