09.Mar.2001
listen more
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I'm listening.
I am beginning to deeply adore diaryland. Not only is it painstaikingly addictive, there is a myriad of eecletic souls who spill their guts on a daily basis. I have added this javascript box (because I am javawhore incarnate) to illustrate the ones whom I stalk with glee. It took about an hour to complete, but it was terribly worth it.
and.so.it.goes:You are welcome. I am glad that our spheres have violently collided.
Violently collided.
That is naughty.
I see so many faces here who torture themselves into believing that no one is listening to them; perhaps my diaryland goal is to prove them wrong. On the same hand, there is always a hunger personally felt on my end of the cyber planet to create something. I am devestated upon its completion, however, and then toss myself into other projects that will hopefully bring upon desired results. My biggest critic is myself. The cynical realism of anyone else won't be able to steal that title from me, I'm afraid.
But it's a strangely appealing fear.
I have been awake since 5:30 this morning. Soybean managed to plop her wrinkled coffee-bean arse on my face while chewing on my pillow-slip, then Kitty came inside from the cold, and the perpetual animal battle resumed its progress.
If Joe and I had our own house, it wouldn't irk me as much when Soyface barks, but because we share a duplex with two Frat boys upstairs, it has become my duty to bring peace into the valley of Dog and Cat. It seemed to have worked. Kitty is asleep on the divan, while Soybean had managed to pull apart Kitty's feline bed and smack her bum down on the cushion.
Now if only I could teach Soybean not to rip apart my Anton Corbjin 'Star Trek' photography book on the coffee table. She has an affinity for endeavouring to jump up on it, and grab it by its hard-cover edges. There are teeth marks on the bottom left corner. It makes me edgy.
Not only does she harbour a hankerin' for obliterating Anton, she also has a crush on eating my Japanese herb candles on the coffee table also. This makes for a doubly edgy bird.
My duplex is over-run by fuzzy animals, including myself and Joe. I still need to vacuum. The Hoover is collecting dust.
Joe woke me up about one:thirty this morning when he came home from work. Upon rousing me, I was dying for something chocolatey, and realised we had that Boston chocolate cake chilling in the fridge. I commanded Joe to cut us a slice.
So at the computer we sat until around 2:30, as I checked e-mail, sighing wistfully that others join my Beautiful Geeks list, while simultaneously stuffing my Angelina Jolie lips with Devil's Food Cake sin.
Joe gets bored with my internet life. He wishes it were an on-going Flash animation on Newgrounds, I gather. Unfortunately, I hate Flash when it's applied to anything but RealVideo movies. Web-sites that utilize its programme piss me off. The loading time wastes mine. I would much rather code a cursor effect than wait for a cyber space uber-2001 Net Odyssey Futuristic-like-all-the-others intro page to load, then cause me a headache.
Of course, there are the exceptions, but I have yet to find one. At least the javapages, some quite similar in style, don't crash your OS.
That is all for now. I feel the urge to take a shower coming on. I just bought this Herbal Essence exfoliating body scrub the other night, and I'm itchin' to put it to good use.
1:42PM
I can tell today is going to be a very uneventful day. No, really, very uneventful.
If you haven't met Bobby or Mara, then you should do so now.
Quote of the day thusfar:
"Being a female I feel I must talk about my vagina ALL THE TIME."
--Mara
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time & machine