I dislike being male.

I'm not saying that men are evil, mean and sadistic (though some are), I just think that somehow I would have worked out better if I had been hatched female. Curse the androgen wash.

Maybe it's just being a geek or whatnot, but I never felt I completely fit into the whole male gender thing. I hate sports, red meat, strip-clubs, cars, dogs and all the other things that males, typically, like. About the only thing remotely 'normal' I like is women, and even then I don't consider 24.3 minutes in the back seat to qualify as romance.

But my sublime contempt is reserved for the the fact that everyone expects men to be soul-less horn-dogs who know everything about sex. Think about it -- it's easy to expect a guy to be a hormonal trollop, but for some reason it is considered 'wrong' for a boy to be **gasp** afraid of sex.

Well, damn it, It scares me. Why must I be hurt and insulted because I'm still apprehensive about the whole thing. Do people think that men are born with the 'karma sutra' embedded in their genetic code?

And would someone please tell me why the hell it's considered wrong for a boy to cry? I want every idiot out there who thinks this to listen very carefully: MEN HAVE EMOTIONS TOO! The substitution of a Y chromosome does not magically turn off our feelings. Being used and dumped hurts a guy just as much as a girl.

And yet, somehow this is considered acceptable. It's the status quo to teach boys to suppress their emotions. Didn't anyone stop to think that that might be why men are so violent? We have years and decades of suppressed and bottled feelings inside of us that have no other socially acceptable outlet other than donning pads and helmets and beating the living shit out of each other.

There exists, in the western world, a double standard that fucking pisses me off. Women are allowed to be whatever and however they want to be... men are allowed to be what they want as long they conform to the standards of what a 'real' man should be. Not allowed to be sensetive, not at all.

I hate to break this to everyone, but if you keep saying a person 'is' a certain way, eventually they will start to believe you and become just that. It's a self-fulfilling prophecy.

I was speaking about Ron the thirty-five-year-old who likes my radio show in the March 2, 2001 node. Well, so far he has given my a mix tape and flowers. Only the thing about the flowers are that he works for a florist and got them for free--they were unwanted, so he gave them to me. Mixed message? I'm not sure what this guy wants, to be honest. He's giving me things, but he hasn't asked me out on a date. He calls me quite a bit, but has made very little indication of what he's after--my friendship? a relationship? sex? I don't know. I wish he would tell me. Or make some sort of clear indication.

I don't know how much I would want a real relationship right now. The last real relationship I was in ended very badly, and I don't know if I feel up to it. (Plus, I've still got that damned crush on my acting professor. Ugh.)

The quest for a workstation, part III
Seems like the quest finally comes to an end. I got ICQ working (pwICQ for those of you using this great piece of software called OS/2), installed Netscape 2.02 (it has the v3 render engine in it, ask IBM why they did not update the version number) as it fits my 486 CPU better. Maybe i'll have some trouble with the NexGen board tomorrow, but so far i am noding this on my recycled box.
Update:My co-worker forgot the NexGen again ;(
Non-tech stuff now. My blinddate today was either great or a fiasco, we'll meet again on friday, i'll decide till then.
She is a nice person, intelligent, with a great sense of humor and a great taste in music. But she just isnt my type optically. Her body is kinda unformed, i don't really know how to describe it, its just that it looks like shes too skinny on some and too fat on other parts of her body, the parts just don't fit together.
Anyway, her being a cool person, i know why i gave her my phone number while being drunk, the only question is if i should ignore her body and just try to love her or not. I don't know. I don't know if i want to find out.
Time will tell. Friday will tell.

All i know is that i don't know nothing.
So, after eleven total hours at work today, I can finally sit down and relax. And node.

It was a tough day for sure, but the work wasn't the hardest part of the day. I also went shopping for a simple commuter bike, when I realized that I'm in for about $80 more than I expected.
On top of this, around 6:00 I went to pick up some Tarn-X (a jewelery cleaner), and when I returned, the studio building was locked. I knocked for about 5 minutes, then yelled. When these two attempts failed, I decided to pull my car up to the door, since the road leading to the studio is empty 99% of the time, I put the car perpendicular to the door, so that the front of the car was facing the front door of the building. The I got out of the car, and pressed my remote-lock-key-control-thingy and the alarm went off. After about 10 minutes of the alarm, and still nothing, I returned to knocking, then knocking with the alarm on.
Eventually my boss came to unlock the door, but not because she heard me, because she was wondering what was taking me so long.

But the day wasn't all that bad.
Earlier in the day, during my lunch break, I was in the car stopped at a red light, when a blue Volvo sedan pulled up behind me.
The first thing I noticed was the young woman in the Volvo, who happened to be rather attractive. A moment later I checked the rear-view-mirror and saw her singing and "dancing" in the car.
This may not seem like anything amazing, but it really cheered me up for some reason. Maybe it's just that I like seeing attractive young women singing and dancing in their cars, maybe it's just me, but I think it's something else. There was something great about seeing that girl singing and dancing in her car, not caring if other people saw her or anything like that. It was an experience that borders on "beautiful".
Okay...first my office co-workers and I cram ourselves into this new, tiny space, and now they tell 1/2 of us to move again. arrrugh!

Anyhow, it is just too weird as far as our management goes. They are all so touchy-feely, and our place still manages to function, but sometimes I wonder how. Maybe it is like this at all companies. After all, I've been able to moan and groan about all of the previous companies I've worked for, I just figured that small companies were different. Ha!

Meanwhile, back at the homefront.... Of all places that entropy has to take a toll in my life, why my bachelor pad? I hate to clean, yet it does not clean itself. Laundry is worse.... How I miss having my own washer and dryer. Still, I do have lots of whites left!


So, to make the long story short: Slept a bit too long again (fortunately nothing immediate in schedule for today...), because I tweaked the UI and stuff for Vocoditor. Version 1.1 will look a bit better, I hope...

The UI will be a bit more logical, and users are also able to enter the file name directly. That's Cool. It also has pretty error/message dialogs now! =)

Today? Nothing significant yet. Ideas? Well, let's see the Usenet stuff first.

Time to face the challenges of the day.


Whee! Got Red Carpet to work. =)

The bug? My /etc/debian_version said "potato". (Shows when I last did apt-get dist-upgrade...) obviously, RC didn't know what the heck kind of distribution is that. I did apt-get install base-files and lo, it now says "testing/unstable", and RC talks to me now.

Now, if I'd only find Eazel's Nautilus 1.0 as .debs, the current stuff Debian has (0.8) seems to be Non-Working...


"Insatiable Upgrader: WWWWolf's hot moments with APT and Red Carpet" - another decent title for a porn movie.


Tried out irssi client - at terminal this time. It seems to be decent that way.

Funckinque browser problems. Fixed by posting crap over ssh, from an ancient install of Lynx at the university box... Damn, head hurts too much to continued.

(2001-03-16 T 00:15: Finally updated... A lot of problems to submit stuff recently. More details in later daylogs.)

Other day logs o' mine...

Noded today by y.t.: irssi

I was so tired yesterday coming home on the train from DC. I did a lot of work at work, ran around all day helping people and looked a lot of stuff up. So I did absolutely nothing last night. I did no yoga, I called no one, I just ate dinner and talked to my son and read a book for a while. Then I had some peanut butter and honey crackers. I had craved chocolate all afternoon.

I went to sleep after reading for a brief time by the light of five candles, as I usually do. The candles and the incense feed my soul. When I woke up, I felt really good, really serene. I woke up before my alarm went off, which just never happens during the week. I felt refreshed and alive. How strange, to get enough sleep during the week.

I suppose yesterday could be classified as one of the worst days I've had in a while. I woke up and got dressed in one of the few matching outfits I had clean, and left to go to work. Little did I know that evil happenings had already occurred.

I get to the doughnut shop, and decide I will get a few for breakfast, and have them all boxed up and ready to go when I reach for my wallet..."uh sorry, but I seem to have misplaced my wallet..." Needless to say they were not very happy with me?

I continue into work, and realize *finally* that I can not get into my workplace without the ID that I have in the photo area of my wallet. I finally got through a days work, and then headed home.

For anyone that has ever driven in Indianapolis, Indiana, USA’s traffic, they know that it is practically impossible to get from the grocery store to the gas station across the street in under 10 minutes, none the less, getting from the Fort to my home (20 Miles). So, I invariably got stuck in traffic, and got home late. I let my puppy outside to go the restyard, and had her traipse back in covered in mud. (Note: I still can not find a mud puddle in my yard.)
After I got her washed up, and the bathroom cleaned, she decided to chew on my can of spray styrofoam, and ended up with it all over her ear. Hence, I now have a Shih-Tzu with a lopsided haircut.

Just when I thought my day was going to be over, I was laying in bed, and got a phone call. I reached over to grab the phone, and knocked my wife’s soda all over me, the bed, and the wall.

Well, at least today is better...for now!
Look at me, I'm in a car and I'm going very fast on a highway with lots of stores and parking lots on it.

Hello man in car who's trying to pull out of a parking lot and onto the road full of cars going very fast! It looks like you could have possibly been trying to pull out of the parking lot for ONE WHOLE MINUTE and have yet to be successful!

I can see you're maneuvering it so that the front of your car is jutting out onto the road, a ploy to get me, one of the fast moving cars to slow down to avoid hitting you -- at which point you will then pull out in front of me. That's clever! I would have never thought of THAT.

Well hey, I've got news for you friend -- I'm not going to do that! How do you like them apples? They're Granny Smiths or quite possibly Red Delicious!

I'll hit you motherfucker, don't think I won't do it! Because I will!@!!

Hit you, that is.

Watch me as I am not slowing down! Observe as I maintain the same speed I was going at before you tried to pull your little stunt! Note the fact that my foot has remained on the same angle on top of the acceleration as it was before!

I'm crazy motherfucker! Don't mess with me! I'll cut you!!@!

Welcome to Stupid Driver Highway Chicken, and you're going to lose, friend. I feel like Fonzie!!!!!!

Observe as you now go into reverse and quickly back your car up into the parking lot.

You can't stop me, don't even try!

Sorry about the exclamation points, but they're there to get the point across.

Got back from DFW this morning. You can tell you've had a bad day when you spend more time travelling than you do working.

My flight from DFW to PIT was delayed by half an hour. That, of course, gave me about 15 minutes to make my connecting flight from PIT to CAK. After hoofing it from gate B45 to gate E21, a distance of several hundred miles, I assure you, I found out that my flight from PIT to CAK was cancelled. Shit. After questioning a US Airways employee, I found out I was to be bussed to CAK. Last time I checked, I had signed up for a plane ride. Note the name: US Airways. If I wanted to take a fscking bus, I would have gone Greyhound. After a much shorter walk, I found the curb where the bus would be picking us lucky people up.

The bus did not leave PIT until after the plane that we should have been on would have landed. Given the top speed of the bus seemed to be about 45 mph, the trip from PIT to CAK took about two hours. Given the time spend waiting for the bus and the time on the bus, it took me less time to get from DFW to PIT than it did to get from PIT to CAK.

Turns out that the flight was cancelled due to high winds at CAK. The airlines had nothing but our saftey in mind, so this is a good thing.

I finally did make it home, and I felt so much better when I walked in the door. Best of all, my wife had to leave early today, so I got to get my son ready for school and get him on the bus. We managed to get some playtime in between breakfast and his bus which gave both of us a good start to the day. :)

usually i don't write these. yeah. right.

i have just pulled two all-nighters in a row. and i'm still not done all my silly homework. who says arts students have it easy?

hey. how many arts students does it take to screw in a lightbulb? 
               one, but she gets three credits for it.
today, in the photocopy place, some pop-can scavenger got really pissed at me 'cause i wouldn't give him my water bottle. well, it was mine, damnit. and i need something to drink out of.

yesterday, we decorated bikes at beavers. the crabby 50-year old mother of a 5 year old kid got in huge fight with her ex. it was fun to watch.

the day before yesterday, i met achan. but not on purpose. i was on the bus and he was on the bus. right now, i'm so tired that i can't be sure it really happened. it seems kinda like a weird dream. understandable, since that night i had a dream that night that a) i met him, and 2> he was stephen hawking. it just didn't seem right.

he gave me a business card. capitalist show-off, so i guess i couldn't have made it up.

I'm beginning to get really sick of fighting with people at work. Actually, people is the wrong word to use as its only really one person...

Bungle and I had a real humdinger this afternoon over something really innocuous, something so small and inconsequential but you would never have known it judging by the scale of the argument.

Bungle and I have both more or less been given team leader status over the last week or so, we have both been given extra responsibility, him for workflow management, me for database management and email administration amongst other things.

As we're both still sort of settling into our new roles upsets of todays type are only to be expected I suppose, but to be pig-headed about it, I'm still sure I'm right!

What happened was this.... I had a service call outstanding for one of my schools to repair an iMac. I'd contacted the school last Friday and said that we were very busy and that it probably wouldn't be me attending but someone would call. Then I got allocated something like 50 email administration jobs that were backlogged to hell and back. So I've been working my ass off for three days ploughing through the backlog, then to top it all, a maintenance routine on our mail server went kaka and it ate 7295 user accounts. So, this afternoon, I spot this lonely little iMac service call, all on its own, still not being attended to, so I decide that the best way to progress is to allocate it to Bungle for him to 'workflow manage' and get someone to attend to it.

The database we use maintains an incident list for each service department user. I told Bungle that I had an outstanding call and that I wanted him to allocate it to someone else to complete. He told me that it wouldn't be done until next week, which I know is bollocks, as I can see everything in the database and I know whats going on. I told him that I'd allocate it to him then he could pass it on to someone to cover. He told me not to as he prefers to leave things in individual queues then move the calls accordingly. My opinion is that this is very inefficient as it means a lot of extra work for him as he does not have sufficient permissions to move calls in other peoples queues (nobody does except me and my manager). He has to log in as an individual user to move a call to someone else.

I was like "Surely its easier for you if I allocate the call to you then you match it with the best person to complete it then pass it to them?"

His reply was basically "I'll do it my way"

And so it went on, and on and on. For nearly 30 minutes. It rapidly deteriorated into childishness, with Bungle saying

"If you allocate it to me I'll allocate it straight back to you"

It ended with him stomping off in a strop, refusing to talk to me and me allocating the call to him anyway.

The biggest problem with Bungle is that he hasn't actually grasped the concept of delegation yet, I feel. He has this thing where he freaks out if he has more than four calls allocated to him, he always has. Out of the ten or so calls I've passed to him in the last week, he's completed each and every one of them himself.

Its like "Hello! You can delegate calls to someone else you know, its only your job!"

Bungle is old school IT service provision, he doesn't grasp the concepts of modern IT service management or the techniques and tools involved.


Things must improve or there's going to be blood on the carpet.

Parental guidance advisory: The following is not another of the sort of upbeat writeups I am known for. It is, in fact, pretty damn depressing. In my usual upbeat fashion, of course....

Let's see...where do I begin? Oh yes. Four years ago.

Four years ago...

My darling Lone and I had just had our first son, Lucas. My parents were quite happy to have become grandparents, and we invited a bunch of people to attend the christening.

Now, in my native Denmark, the lutheran-evangelical Church of Denmark has the usual Christian practice of godparents. In fact, the child is allowed several of them. Usually, there is one godmother or godfather, who holds the child for baptism (if one of the parents don't). Then, there are up to five others, called faddere, who are sort of "reserve godparents".

For Lucas' baptism, we'd invited several people who we trust to safeguard our child in the unlikely event of our deaths (this being the job of faddere). However, while Lone's brother was one of them - my brother wasn't.

There was a good reason for this - my brother is a borderline alcoholic, and he is not what I'd call a good example. In fact, he's pretty much screwed up every part of his life except the job-related part.

When my parents heard that my brother wasn't going to be a fadder, they hit the ceiling. They called me on the phone, basically threatening to absent themselves from the christening if the matter wasn't "rectified" at once.

I told them, politely, that it wasn't their business.

My father, who was doing most of the talking, hung up the phone.

That was the last I heard from them, until today.

Four years pass...

In the intervening time, I sort of waited for them to come to their senses. Of course, they didn't. I sent them polite birthday cards and Christmas cards, and never received an answer. From mutual friends, I learned that my parents apparently considered these notes impertinent - as if I was deliberately needling them.

Sometimes, silence is golden

Well, today I finally heard from my parents. Yeah. Great. I got a letter from them in the morning mail, and my sixth sense immediately told me that this was not good news. Very clever of my sixth sense, actually.

The letter contained a terse note from my father, and a copy of my parents' will. The gist of the note was that if I had anything belonging to me left in their house that I wanted, I could write and tell them so - and they'd place it in the garage for me to pick up when they weren't home.

They also informed me that they'd probably be selling the house, and any furniture and goods that weren't transferrable would be slated for destruction.

The will, upon examination, proved to be as expected. My parents have altered their will to exclude me from everything but the 25% that I am (as a life heir) entitled to, under Danish law. My brother was named chief executor, and given the remaining 75%.

Since it is to be expected that my parents will take steps to transfer their assets, while they are alive, to my brother, this effectively disinherits me with a penstroke.


Surprised? No.

Dismayed? Somewhat - but my parents' obsession with money notwithstanding, I'm fairly indifferent to the monetary loss. I'd never expected to see a penny, anyway.

Provoked? Well, no. This is really almost too comedic for me to take offense at. After all, my parents' sending me this will and the accompanying note is an act calculated to needle me. Too bad they've completely misunderstood what makes me tick.

About the only thing that bothers me is that they are effectively obliterating my entire personal history. Pictures of my childhood, gone. Happy memories, overlaid with a permanent tarnish of discomfort. You get the idea.

About the strongest reaction I've felt so far (though there may be a delayed reaction) is the understanding that this is a learning experience: it teaches me to avoid making the same mistake with my own children.

I will try to be a good father and friend to my sons, and strive to understand them. And, whatever they do, I will never disown them.

AARRRGGHH, or: why I love EDB so much

Damn! I finally got borged. Let the record show:

Sever time:
22:52 Wed Mar 14 2001

And I wasn't even being completely obnoxious...
22:45: anotherone: It's at $50, though, WTF
22:45: getha wondered what anotherone does all day. Now,
	/me doesn't want to know...
22:46: getha: Hhhhm , make that 0,50 $s!
22:46: getha: Unless you just upped the ante.... anotherone?
22:46: Cletus the Foetus: anotherone: That's the funniest
	thing I've seen all day.
22:47: anotherone: getha, did you REALLY wonder what I did
	all day? 'cause if you did, I've got to wonder what you
	do all day...
22:51: lawnjart: why does anyone wonder what anyone does 
	all day, when you are all here all day?
22:51: getha: Nah, you misinterpreted me, ON PURPOSE! I
	know a conspiracy when I see one!
22:52: getha puts his empty beer bottle on his doorknob,
	upside down...
22:52: EDB has swallowed getha getha was
22:55: Modnar is jealous
22:57: akf2000: wow - edb's parameters get narrower each
22:58: Xamot has doubts about the EDB's intellegence.
22:59: legbagede: hey that parameter-tuck was private!  EDB's
	gonna be pissed you're blabbin' about it...
22:59: anotherone: He's a growing borg, akf- he needs the 26
	essintial vitamins that only a healthy nodersnack can
23:00: Xamot goes home. I will miss work.  *snicker*
23:00: akf2000: rather i think of it/him as a cantankerous
	old man, funny in his ways
Or was I? Heh, what the heck! I'll never know, probably.


This little interlude has kind of forced me to write a little up, instead of stalking everythingians in the ChatterBox all night. As I'm running a little dry on concrete things to node, I turned to this venerable institution known to everymans and everywomans as the Day Log.

And now what?

Is it policy to just spill your guts out about all the wonderful, joyous and earth-shaking events that transpired during your own glorious day or do you just fake it?

Let's be original

Whatever that means over here on E2.

So, this was my day, today...
Hang on, 'cause this is going to be a rollercoaster ride of emotion, angst, dread, happy smiley faces and pure wicked-syruppy-substance-to-lick-off-your-fingers-or-other-appendages-stuff.


Woke up this morning to the tunes of Return of the Grievous Angel - a tribute to Gram Parsons which kicks in automatically at 7:15. Like hell I'm gonna get out of bed that early. So I linger on in limbo till the snooze-function on my clock runs out of redo from start-s, which happens sometime around one in the afternoon. Now that's a civilized getting-up time!
Okay, get up. Do the routine... You know: shower, toilet, comb, clothes, coffee, bread, whatever. Not in that particular order by the way... And E2, of course!

And the rest of the day was occupied with helping my grandma buy a new computer, so that I can get back my own computer from her. I lent it to her for the two months I spent in Nepal on traineeship, but that's a whole other node...
After I got back from under the aircraft-fumes around Schiphol I watched a few moments on the television and then wandered over to E2. And then I got borged. Boooohooooo.

I do so hope you stopped reading this after the first two lines. If not, don't blame me!

Sea monkey eggs added to their tank. None observed to be swimming about yet, but they're probably too small to be seen easily just yet, and also perhaps only a few hatched. Will watch tomorrow.

Also didn't get most of the stuff done today that I should have, but there's nothing new there.

A good day.

Woke up at 1:15 PM, decided it was WAY to early and went back to sleep for another hour.

Woke up at 2:15 PM, had some Cinnamon Toast Crunch, and got dressed.

Drove to the library and told them that when I had borrowed Donnie Brasco, I arrived home to find that inside the case was a copy of Lion King 2: Simba's Pride.  The librarian was nice enough to hunt down the right video and switch them back.

Went to Blockbuster Video, returned Taxi Driver and Raging Bull.  Went to see if they had American History X, but it was still out.

Went to the Broadway Mall.  Walked down to Foot Locker, got a nice new pair of Sketchers that were on sale.  I've been a Nike man for years, but the heels of my last four pairs have all gotten worn down and ripped...I don't know if it's just the way I walk or not, but that was enough to break my brand loyalty.  Hopefully this new pair will hold up.

On the way back to the car, I stopped by upstairs where the movie theater is.  I noticed the elevator, the one back by the skylight and the front of the mall.  It struck me that no one ever had any cause to take that elevator, because it was so damn far out of the way.  I started reminiscing about the last time I had ever walked up by there, and realized it was when they had first done all the renovations to the mall and put the movie theater in on the second level--back in 1994, when I was 14.  I remembered how beautiful the whole level was right after it had all been completed, and how pretty the whole food court area looked during the afternoon with the sun shining through the skylight by the elevator.  I remembered how cool we thought it was that they had put the elevator in.  I remembered that we never took the elevator again after that day.

I took the elevator downstairs.

Today was a lame day.

Why Are My Emotions A Harmonic of Others'?

My girlfriend is depressed about the present condition of her life. Over days of contact with her in this condition I am beginning to feel down.

Damn, and I thought it was mono!

I'll Map Your Page Table

I read a few papers today on virtual memory subsystems and got enlightened on how to solve my super-secret problem. God, I hope I can finish it this week. I am starting to look pathetic to my geek peers.

Poop, Damn You, Poop I Say!

My damned near anal rententive and depressed girlfriend refuses to take the take-home poop-in-a-cup test to see if she has some strange Asian intestinal parasite. I begged her to perform the dirty dead before we leave town. The last thing I want is to have to go to the hospital because she has a happy Amoeba colony growing inside her while we are on vacation.

Now I don't know, but if I were her: I would take pooping in a cup over the chance of shitting out a big tape worm later on any day.

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