A Date?

Oct. 14th, 2001 12:18 am
Well, I don't know if I mentioned here (though I probably did yesterday) that... well, there's no other way to say it, cheesey as it might sound.

There's this woman I work with...

We'll call her "A" since I don't think I've used that initial yet. Let me think, C and H and T and B and M... nope, no A, yet. So she's A.

What's there to say about her? Well, she's pretty. VERY pretty in fact. A few years older than me. Fun to be around. Pretty. Great to talk to. Have I thrown in Pretty at any time?

Well, I was pretty taken with A since I first met her. I'm really not looking for much since... well, to be quite honest, if I'd seen her in a bar I would think "Wow!" then NEVER say anything to her, just assuming she's out of my league. But working events with her (no, no interoffice romances... I'm still only working part-time, remember?) we've gotten a chance to talk and get to know each other.

Anyway, what am I getting to? I'm getting there! I'm kinda the local object of pity for our events crew because I'm driving about a two-hour round trip to work events. Well, one of the Matrons of the crew (a lady about my dad's age) has offered to let me stay at her place anytime I didn't feel like driving home, especially when we have Friday and Saturday night events (saves on gas, too). Well, at the next event, A made the same offer. If I had been chewing gum, I probably would have choked on it. I'm STILL not sure what I expect or hope from knowing her, but that was DEFINITELY something to make note of, I thought. So, this past Friday, we had a double event, so I thought I would see what I would see and packed an overnight bag. Well, A couldn't find a babysitter and wound up not working. Sod that idea.

TONIGHT was what got me, though. She was there tonight and we were bantering up front by the registers before the Gates opened and the topic turns to food. So A starts talking about the food she has thawing and prepped for the dinner she's going to cook tomorrow. I make the requisite "sounds good" comment and she turns to me and says "You want to come over?"


Uhm, YEAH! But a customer walked up then and we started getting busy. Later, though, I did ask if that was an actual invitation or a punchline and she seemed surprised I even asked. So, tomorrow, I'm going to give her a call, get directions to her place and head over around dinner. :-)

Is it a date? I have no idea. I don't particularly care, except I've got to decide whether or not to take flowers. But it's going to be me and her kids (yeah, yeah, I know, whatever) at dinner tomorrow. Honestly, I'm really not sure WHAT to think about all of it. So I'm trying not to OVERthink it, as is my wont, and just let it ride. I'd call her a friend regardless, and if it stays the way, ALL TO THE BETTER! If it goes deeper, better still.

And I know what I *DON'T* want. No more of this strictly physical relationship crap. I've gotten burned on WAY too many of those. Okay, two, but STILL! I don't like burns.

What will happen? Stay tuned and find out! I know I will!
Well, I decided to follow trends... here goes the IQ test.

Thank you for recently taking the Self Discovery Workshop's IQ Test. Because of the Internet's ability to mishandle transmissions, we are reconfirming via email that your IQ Test score was: 159

Genius: 146 - 165

I'ze a geniuz! I'ze a geniuz!

Okay, I've got two questions:

First off, *JUST* a curiosity thing, but I was wondering if Maria(tomspawn), who claimed on her website she had an account here would be willing to step forward and raise her hand. I hate when I get curious about things like this... because then I can't let it go until I riffle through every account that watches here and... eh... I don't wanna waste the effort.

Second, is anyone here going to the party in NJ? I would like to, but I don't really think I can afford accomodations, and it's a bit more than a day trip (from Georgia). I'm just curious, to see if anyone will here will tell me all the wonderful, fun plans they are making that will talk me into it.

Let's hear from you, people!
Okay, so I worked the Jane's Addiction show last night. MUCH better haul than the Thrashers game a week ago. We made about $40 in tips, and probably close to $40 for the commissions. Contrast that to $30 in commissions and $5 in tips for the Thrashers game and... weeeeell, I'd say things are looking up. Now, I've got the TOOL concert friday, another Thrashers game (not preseason this time, should make out better) on Saturday, ANOTHER something or other next Tuesday... I finally got to the sign up list and will be working a MINIMUM of three days a week for the next month or so. Hehe... and next month: BUFFET! Woohoo! We get to kick the usual event staff Polo's aside and wear Hawaian shirts instead. Plus, our best takes (commissions and tips) come from beer sales (so cha-CHING$$$) *AND*... well, it's BUFFET! You better believe this is going to be one boogying Beerman! Plus, we'll probably close shop LONG before the concerts over, but that doesn't mean I'll have to go HOME, now does it? LIfe is definitely looking up. OH! And when I get my commission check for the first even PLUS the tips from the TOOL concert, I should be able to handle rent. *whew* Mind you, I haven't managed to get any OTHER bills paid, but I'm taking it one thing at a time.
I definitely found a job I like, though. BAR TENDING! It's just too much fun. Breaks my heart to have to cut the poor inebriated things off, though. Especially when they're offering $20 a cup. However, compared to the $1000 fine that COULD be leveled on us... it's just not worth it. It's alot of fun, though, interacting with the customers. I can't just give the deadpan "Here's your beer, sir/ma'am." NO! I've gotta interact, joke with 'em. Which, of course, went a long way towards our shares tip level and got me more than a few "Come Hither" looks as well (yes, Flagg, all from women).
Anyway, it was fun. Everybody check out my "To Talk about Magic" entry at OD, okay? The topic just seemed more suited to that diary. :-)
/me sighs.

It's 5:30 AM, do you know where your children are? Well, if you're my parents (and I hope to GAWD my parents don't hang out here), atleast one of your children is still awake, tons of ideas floating through his head, and making an LJ entry because he can't seem to put them into enough order to write them down.

I've had one new story idea (The AntiMagic Shop) since I've begun feeling up to being creative again, and some good new ideas for how to revamp a partially finished story I stalled out on (Radamanthus), but I really want to be working on "Stories of My Father." Unfortunately, what I haven't done is gone back around and TALKED with Dad on that one, tracked all those old stories down and gotten them straight. Or even decided how I want to handle the framework. Atleast my brain is kicking over it, steadily rolling over it like a mill, time and again, until it's ground up and rubbed under my skin. The way it should be.

Maybe I should just go back to work on "The AntiMagic Shop" and write SOMETHING. Get the bloody thing DONE, beginning to end, and nevermind if it's EXACTLY the way I want it. That's what rewritings for. And I will.

But right now, I'm going to go see if I can find "Furniture Porn" on the web, just to prove to syddie it exists. :-P

If anyone's just DYING of curiosity, let me know and I'll give you the URL.


Oct. 5th, 2001 10:46 pm
Okay, okay... I'm probably HORRIBLY breaking a friends' copyright, but I don't care. :-P This is a conversation I recorded recently from the Discworld Mud. I'm Azraphael, my friend is the enigmously named MegaRodan:

Megarodan asks you: How would you like to drive a Canyonero?

You ask Megarodan: What's a Canyonero?

Megarodan exclaims to you: *gasp* You mean you don't know?!
You tell Megarodan: *gasp* It would seem so.

Megarodan tells you: Oh, you poor ignorant thing...allow me to give the advertisement...
Megarodan tells you: *begins to sing, ignroing your 'AAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!'*

You remote to Megarodan sings the background "She's going to tell... she's going to tell, she's going to tell... she's going to tell..."

Megarodan exclaims to you: *Hank Williams Junior voice*Can ya name the caarrrrh with a four-wheel drive? / Smells like a steak and seats thirty-five!
Megarodan tells you: *scenes of Canyonero driving around in the desert. It is a red car*

Megarodan tells you: Canyonero! Canyonerrrooooh.

Megarodan tells you: Well, it goes real-slow with th' hammer down / it's a count
ry fried truck that's endorsed by a CLOWN! m*stops on a cliff
- little encircled image of Krusty appears on side*
Megarodan exclaims to you: Canyonero! Canyonero.....HEY HEY!

Megarodan tells you: *Canyonero now drives along a normal highway* TTwelve yards long, two lanes wide - sixty five tonnes of American pride! *taking up whole lane, bus coming other way is forced to swerve and collide with tree*

Megarodan tells you: Canyonero! Canyonero! (*silly 'YAH' noise, in addition to usual whips) *scouts stick heads out of bus and salute the Canyonero, regardless of the flame*

Megarodan tells you: Top of the line in utility sports! *Canyonero drives up a rubbish heap for no aparent reason* Unexplained fires are a matter for the courts! CANYONERO! CANYEEEEHNNERRRO! *car bursts into flame*

hehehe And, of course, at that point, the MUD crashed. I'll ask tomorrow if there was more.
Grrr... and that's all I have to say about that.

I decided to try to cut back bit by bit instead of taking the smokes out of my system cold turkey. I did well yesterday, only smoking 5 (my goal), but blew it tonight with 7 (I had aimed at 5 again). Oh well, sometimes the situation just calls for nicotine.

Thought I had a job offer today. I finally called Manpower to see if they had just forgotten about me and all, and my recruiter told me to send her an updated resume, as a client was looking for someone with my skills PRONTO. So, I sent it to her and called back that afternoon, only to find out it was AFLAC, my old employer.
"Were you the one that walked out on the last AFLAC job?" she asks me.

"Uhm, no. I wasn't there the last five days, as I had a court date and wasn't available to work, but I mentioned that ahead of time..." I had trouble saying that the OTHER two days I wasn't there because I was spending time in Troup County Jail for Failure to Keep Minimum Insurance. A WHOLE 'nother story...

"Well, that's what AFLAC reported, so we can't even submit your resume for this one."

So, no go on AFLAC. Not that I would really PREFER a job with them again, atleast not in the situation I was *IN*, but right now I'd like ANY job. The fact that they reported that I walked off annoys me more than a little.

Besides that, not alot happening. Just tense and tired and need sleep.


Oct. 2nd, 2001 08:09 pm
Being a veteran of a moderate bit of group therapy (and man enough to admit the fact :-]), I've heard my fair share of questions like "When did you feel most hurt/embarrassed/betrayed/whathaveyou?" used in such sessions. Now, why I can see the use of such questions in a therapy session, I was thinking today that was really just kind of a downer for the day to day thing. So I wondered what a better one might be.

I like the question "What was the best compliment you ever received?" Mainly because it lead me to an answer I liked remembering.

For me the best compliment I ever received was in my first creative writing class. I had turned in my story "Bezdomny," the first one I ever really felt terribly comfortable with (I think it's still posted at www.geocities.com/CatsLaughing420) and the class was due to critique it that day. After the usual rounds of nervous "Yeah, I liked it... it was good... and stuff" (it would take us all a while to really understand that the base of "critique" was "criticize!") the usual nervous silence fell. Then one girl in the class spoke up and said "I threw the damned thing against the wall."

Now, this doesn't sound like a compliment at first, atleast it didn't to me at the time, but then she went on to explain. She'd gotten so into the main character (Mikhail Alexandrovich) that when he made his fateful decision at the end, she was just so frustrated with him (and with me for "making" him do that) that she just threw it. When she said that, I'd never felt so completely complimented in my life. Nor since. I still have the manuscript she had, complete with folds, creases, and a small tear, along with her written comments, in an envelope. It's nice to have such reminders.

How about you, reader folks? When did you feel most complimented?

Whoa... another failed attempt to get my sleep schedule back on the path to sanity by staying up all night. I woke up at 4:30 this afternoon.

/me shakes his head vigorously.

I've gotta get a bloody job.

Anyway, having slept the day away, I got exactly ZERO productive stuff done today. The other downside to my sleep habits: I'm asleep atleast half the time human resources people and headhunters and recruiters and contacts are at work, and am productive while they sleep blissfully. DAMN THE MAN! Who instituted this "work day" idea anyway!? It discriminates against night-people! I'll bloody well start a protest or something, I will! Watch me!

Okay, not really.

Not much else going on. Still haven't heard back from the Borders in Douglasville. My mom says there's a catalog supply company up there that is hiring QUICK-like up there for Data Entry positions. It's decent pay (only 2/3 of what I was making in tech, not the "less than half" Borders is offering). So, tomorrow, I've got a half dozen resumes to fax out and have to call these guys.

The rest of tonight? Dedicated to a clean apartment, several loads of laundry, and possibly (woohoo!) a bit of writing!! Get down.

Oh, and one more thing. As I'm about to start running again (either in prepartion for the Navy commission or just to get my lard butt back into some semblance of physical fitness), I smoked my *LAST* cigarette today. One hour and counting. :-)
Note to self: From here on, cheap shots are good for geese AND ganders.

/me wanders off muttering in Russian.
Worked my first Phillips Event last night, an Atlanta Thrashers preseason game. Only wound up making about $35 for the entire night, but I understand that that's a really BAD take for a hockey game. Preseason versus New York, plus there must have been SIX other things going on during the day yesterday, so the crowds were thin. However, I am DEFINTELY on the list for the Philly and Pittsburgh games (which I'm told are some of the best money nights, but also the craziest work), and I'll be on for the New Years Eve Widespread Panic concert as soon as they make a sign-up list for it. It was fun. Busy and stuff, but fun. I definitely don't mind the work, I like the people I work with, it all just works out. Even if a great day job comes around, I plan to keep going back to work weekends, atleast. Without a good day job, I'll work the week-nights, too. :-)
It's had a strange kind of Katharsistic effect, too. I've been trying to wean myself from eating out (not easy for someone not terribly comfortable in a kitchen with no microwave), but I've failed MISERABLY so far. Today feels different, though. I'm about to boil up a package of Ramen and probably brew a cup of tea, and that's fine. I had a brief twang to just run by McFastFood and be done with it, but decided against it. No bouts of will contest, no cravings, just thought "Neh... eat at home today." It's strange. I have a feeling it's because I spent 6 hours in a booth surrounded by the smell of these GREAT Bratwursts and Italian Sausages and cola and beer and peanuts and crackerjack and pretzels last night, and didn't have any of them (the booth is charged for every item that isn't accounted for at the end of the night, so I'd have to pay full price; any discount would come out of EVERYONE'S pay). Whatever it is, it's been far reaching.
I even kinda feel like writing today, too. First time in a WHILE I've felt THAT way. Or, atleast, like doing some re-writing. :-) I don't know that I'm up to the creative process itself yet. And DEFINITELY not ready to make myself go run. Maybe I'll get to those two after a bigger event. :-P

My dad called yesterday morning, too. I love that man. My mother always tries to call me at about 9am weekday mornings. Now, there are two options of where I am at 9am on weekday mornings. Either A) I'm at work. However, if I'm *NOT* at work, I am B) asleep; as I do *NOT* see ANY reason to wake up before 9 on a weekday if I don't have to be at work! Scott always tries to call me evenings, when I'm usually either out of the house or on-line. DAD, meanwhile, calls at EXACTLY noon (to the MINUTE) on Saturday. Sure enough, I'd just gotten up, fixed a pot of coffee, and was walking out of the shower when the phone rang. How did he know? He knew HIMSELF at my age. I learn, more and more every day, that I am indeed my father's son.
Anyway, Dad's getting MARRIED! I was COMPLETELY floored! Now, Mom is engaged with Number Three, and has dated her fair share in between, but Dad has always been more laid back, seeing women who were mainly just friends who would come over for dinner. I honestly can't say I ever expected him to remarry. I really thought he'd had his share and was done. But, he said he's considering it. I think it's GREAT personally. My Aunt Fredia is not as crazy about it, but she has her reasons which will become more clear in a second.
The funniest part about it was that Dad was surprised when I knew who the lucky lady was. :-) Obviously, either I get my observative qualities from Mom's side of the family, or Dad has them and didn't think he passed them on or something. Dad's biggest passion in life in the last 7 years or so has been for genealogical research, and he's gotten alot of help from Judy, his... sister-in-law, but not really? Anyway, his sister's husband's sister. Then, the last time I go visit, I arrive at the house and Dad's been "Out to dinner in Pensacola" and doesn't volunteer any information (although, from his face, he had a great time). And, OH! Judy just HAPPENED to be visiting from California that weekend! Whaddya KNOW!? So, spending the weekend, I had a chance to "porch sit" and play Trivial Pursuit and just be around Dad, Judy, Fredia and Jimmy. Like I said, I'm not on the "Sherlock Holmes," nor were they all over each other or anything. Not even REMOTELY. But they were friendly and... I don't know. Sometimes you can just feel things. And mainly, I just know my dad. There was just that knowledge, from the way he moved, the way he talked, some different quality in his ever-present smile, that said "Now here's somebody he really thinks well of, and REALLY enjoys spending time with."
Obviously, it wasn't just me, though. Dad says when he told Scott, Scott's first response was "So, are you going to learn to speak Chinese?" (Judy's passion in life is missionary work in China).

Anyway, Aunt Fredia's worry should be evident now. She and Jimmy have been married for... wow... 36 years? And, all being from Frisco City, we're all related somewhere WAY back in the dim misties of time anyway, so the family has just really grown as one cohesive unit. It took me years to understand that Mama Laur' (Jimmy's mom) wasn't really, actually RELATED to me all that much. So, she just worries that if somehow it DOESN'T work out all the nastiness of a split will affect alot more than just Dad and Judy. I don't think it will, though. For that matter, a split between her and Jimmy would do the same thing, and it didn't stop THEM from getting married, now did it?

/me shrugs.

I guess I just feel it's the nature of life. You risk in everything you do, the greater the risk, the greater the glory if you succeed. "The brighter the angel, the blacker the devil." So, for my part, I'm just ecstatically happy for my dad. He really deserves nothing but happiness...

I can't even say how much so. You'd have to know him to understand, and, not knowing him, I can't explain. Suffice to say, he deserves it.
Okay, to get my mind off the mess of the previous post (which I can't bring myself to erase, for all it's strangeness and inanity); how about an introduction to basic Mishaness?

First off, the nick. I know it's caused quite a bit of confusion (and no little embarrassment) on IJO amongst the Bruces, Bubba's, Taurus's and other's who opening greeting is "a/s/l" or "Wher R the hot chix?" So, here's the official explanation: It's the Russian nickname for the given name Mikhail. Tada! Oh, wait... What? You want to know how a pedigreed white boy from south Alabama got a Russian nickname? Oh, okay... I studied Russian while I was in college. At the time, the U of Alabama had a really healthy Russian exchange student program and Russkie Dom: The Russian House, where Russian students and American students lived side by side. I didn't live there, but I was a regular visitor, especially for Conversation Hour once a week, where (supposedly) the rule was "Once you walk in the door, it's Russian or hand signals. NO ENGLISH!" So, when asked to introduce myself, I did so as I did in class: Menya zovoot Misha, "They call me Misha." So, the Russian students, bending the rules a bit, would ask "Nyet, Nyet, shto etoi PRAVDA nyeom?", "No, no, What's your REAL name?" See, alot of the people in the class had their "Russian names" which had nothing to do with their actual names. However, not thinking of that at the time, I got confused for a moment, then answered "Mikhail Kherbertovich", using the Russian convention of my given name, then my father's name followed by "-ovich." Needless to say, the Russians found this Russkifying of an American name IMMENSELY funny, and immediately took to me, and I actually made some really good friends at the house. And, the nickname "Misha," stuck. So much so that anyone I met through my Russian classes, any Russian students at the University, or anyone that I was introduced to BY those people all began to know me just as "Misha." In fact, to this day, if I go back to Tuscaloosa and walk into my old professor's offices, THEY remember me as Misha. Go figure.

Another defining quality... Hmm, I've always liked the tired, old "If your house was on fire, what would you carry out..." Well, let's get the obvious out of the way: Yes, I would carry myself, any loved ones, pets, et cetera, et al out of the house. Now that we're past that. And to give due credit to Terry Pratchett, let's me also say: When asked, a common, no-nonsense person, answered 'The Fire' and a policeman answered 'Hmmm... who started the fire.' There, have I covered all the possibilities? Good.

Oh wait, I was supposed to answer.

Okay, it's a short list. First and foremost: my hat. Stange answer, I know, but I would. It's easily in the top 5 favored possessions I own. I had a black fedora in High School (which my brother ruthlessly destroyed when he 'borrowed' it one night), and I always blanned on replacing it. The more I learned/grew/read, however, the more I began to veer away from black or white, and began to pine more for a GREY fedora (due thanks to Tolkien's Gandalf the Grey for the reasons). Then, out shopping at some discount store with M and her mom in Dallas, I saw one, lonely, grey fedora on a rack of hats. I went over and noticed, as I approached, that it was actually only MOSTLY grey, but had small strands of black, white, and even red, blue, and green woven into the fabric. They were just so minute and so well blended that, at less than microscopic range, the hat looked grey. And it even fit. So I walked out with my fedora. Since, it's become my "Sit in the cool evenings and listen to Jazz" hat, my "Bundle up against the cold" hat, my "Lounge on a Bar Stool singing Blues" hat, and even my "Bogart Halloween Costume" hat. I love my hat.
Second, would be my copy of "Peter the Great," by Robert Massey. In fact, I think it was by thinking of that book tonight that I thought about doing a fire thingie here. I would definitely take that book. First off, it's a BLOODY great book. Period. Second off, Jamie gave me this copy when he moved. Yahyah, Jamie gave me ALOT when he moved, but most of it was odds and ends that he didn't want to take back to Malaysia with him. This was something he had set aside especially for me. It was a library copy he had picked up second-hand when I encouraged him to read it, and it had years of were, and a few of Jamie's own notes in the margins. And, for now atleast, it still smells like Jamie's place; the sharp-sweet scent of Malaysian spices and cooking. It's fading, but I can still just make it out when I'm reading, and it reminds me of dozens of conversations, argued and debated ad nauseum and sometimes even ad absurdum, where we would debate government and politics and policy, quoting everyone from Plato to Lao Tzu to Nietze to Sun Tzu to Machiavelli to Churchill to Mao to Kissinger and back down the ladder again. Or just times spent, doing nothing. It's a kind of double purpose book like that.

Honestly, after those two, I think I'd just make my escape. I mean, I'd miss the computers if they burned, but their not in much better condition NOW. And I think, even if they burned, considering what I've pulled them from so far, I might STILL be able to salvage them. And everything else is pretty well replacable. But, I guarantee you, as people ran around the apartment complex shouting and putting out the flames, I would atleast be resting against a nearby tree, brim of my hat pulled low over my eyes, re-reading Jamie's notes on the Battle of Narva and mentally preparing my defenses.
Feeling strange tonight. And not, actually, in a good way. *sigh* Not something I can really explain, either. Kinda lonely. Kinda musing. Kinda just here.


/me goes away grumbling about the inappropriateness of some forums...
M called tonight, wanting some kind of definitive answer about where we were going from here. I told her I wasn't ready to handle that kind of conversation just right off the cuff, out of nowhere, and that we'd talk tomorrow night. Now I'm feeling on edge, defensive, waiting some opposition to come at me so I can fight it back; but there's nothing there. Nothing but loneliness and formless fears and dread.
So, now, everything is scraping across my nerves like needles: syd and gabby being cute, ANYONE being happy, losing at trivia... by themselves, and at any other time, just nothing, but NOW, scraping like 100 needles. My hands are shaking, just begging to DO something, but there's nothing to be done.
I don't know why. I've known forever how this was going to go. It's over. I've known for two years, if not more. But, strangely, it's always been something to hold on to. Some anchor, a boundary in my life. Now, that's going to. Just one more thing gone. No job, no relationships... I begin to wonder if there's anything really holding me at all now, or if I'm just cast loose. And it's scary and lonely and... and there's nothing to do about it. It's usually those kinds of anchors where you turn to stand, or atleast to lean and rest for a while, in times like these.

It all just feels cold.
I GOT THE STORIES! Yup, I finally found a way to make a boot disk to get to my old story archive on an old harddrive. I won't go into the gory technical details, but suffice to say it's been a problem I've been cracking my skull against for about two or three weeks now (actively... I've been CONSIDERING it for a while), and I've finally DONE it! Woohoo! So, I went ahead and took out the Linux Partitions and now have a 75 Mhz Toshiba laptop with a 1 Gig HD ready to load up an OS and run with it. SWEET!

/me does a happy little dance.

AND, I've got a possibility of a few more jobs. The family of a friend of mine does concessions (read "sells beer) at concerts and events in Atlanta and they're looking for an extra set of hands. The pay is decent from what I've heard. Plus, Bob is still finding out if his boss needs any more help driving papers to distribution centers, AND I've got a resume in with Borders in Douglasville and a friend there just told me that they are about to lose someone in the Cafe (where the pay is better anyway). All in all, I'm liking my prospects right now.

That's it.

Sep. 21st, 2001 08:52 pm
That tears it! I'm done with OD! I could actually resolve the URL today, but their SQL server obviously had the day off (again) as I couldn't post anything (including comments to others). I'm done with 'em.
So, here I am!

Things are going okay recently. I'm working regularly again. I got on part-time with a friend of mine and his father-in-law delivering and moving furniture for an interior decorator. It's only about 1/2 time a week, but it pays about $10 an hour. Not bad. Plus, on top of that, the father-in-law (Bob) is going to bat for me at another job he works to get me a place delivering newspapers some nights a week. The pay is about the same and should get me another 10 hours a week or so. All in all, should be enough to squeeze by on bills and such. Plus, any other work I picked up is gravy. Not bad, all told.
Still wrestling with the computers, too. The smaller harddrive that I salvaged from Jamie's old laptop is quickly deteriorating quickly, and I still haven't found a way to get my stories off the larger harddrive. YET! I'm going to, though, dangit. Just a matter of time. It hasn't been too bad, though. A bit frustrating at times, but I like the challenge. In the absence of getting PAID to do such work, it's nice to notice that I still enjoy doing it.
Besides that, not alot going on. I'm still considering the Navy commision, but know that I won't take any action on it immediately. Things are still status quo with Marie. And life continues in it's way. My only thoughts at the moment are keeping my little tin filled with cigarettes, keeping a little food in the cupboard, and where I can grab the next sofa to carry it down the ramp. Immediate, real concerns. And I take them one by one, and things are great. :-)
Well, I'm finally giving in to pressure and moving my journal to here (from Opendiary). Maybe temporarily, maybe permanently, I don't know. The fact that I haven't even been able to ACCESS OpenDiary in the last few days plays a pretty big role in the decision, as does the opening of the ijo community. So, TA-DA, here I am. For any who didn't read my OD, it'll probably seem pretty "midstream" but, hey, whose journal doesn't? My entries will also probably seem long. Oh well. I'm used to a different forum... and it's my journal, dammit! :-) Anywho, I'm going to bang my head against the task of finding a way to read a linux partition from Dos for a little while longer then probably write a real entry... till then.
Okay, folks, you finally got me to make an account here... Kudos to Matt, whose (I thought) "Only let people who are logged in leave me notes" journal prompted to me to join. Of course, it was actually a "Only let FOLKS ON MY FRIENDS LIST leave me notes" journal, so it didn't help, but THAT'S OKAY! I'm just going to have to add "Matt drags Syd off behind the ficus" to the quote list the next time in on IJO.

And if you really want to read my diary, try OpenDiary.
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