January 7, 2002

It's not January 7 yet, but as it'll be when everything hits the fan, might as well put this here. I was using my iBook before dinner last night. I closed it, put it on the chair, and went to dinner (at Kirala). Had a great time, came back, and open the iBook for more work on these insanely important papers that are due immediately. I see a broken LCD with fanned out black areas that look incredibly organic, like leaves and ferns. My screen is broken. I've had a number of minor problems I wanted to talk to tech support about, but haven't had time since I bought it October 10. Fine. I live an hour away from an Apple Store; I'll just go there today. I did.

The answer by the people at the so-called "Genius Bar" and by the people they phone is: "It's your fault. It can only occur due to user abuse. It is not our problem. However, we'll kindly repair it for you, for just $900." They told us we could try calling Customer Service, which we did, and they told us the exact same thing.

I'm pretty angry. I know I didn't drop the laptop. I know Clint didn't because I was using it for hours on end. I know the apartment wasn't broken into. I know there wasn't an earthquake. And if the single other resident of the house, my CAT, could damage it by stepping on it while its lid was closed, then it's a totally defective screen and should be replaced.

This was my first Mac machine, bought when I couldn't really afford it. It'll definitely be my last unless there's some kind of miracle. I'm so disappointed.

It is strange how someone's death can make you think about your own death. And frankly when I looked at my life it took me a good thirty seconds to figure out why to live. Albeit, I probably should have had this revelation sometime other than while driving home from school.

I got back from Christmas break only to find out a friend and former teammate of mine had just passed away. Only passed away isn't the right phrase. This implies it was atleast humane and probably painless. The kind of thing that happens due to old age. Tiffany was 15, much to young to die. Over the next few days, the facts made themselves clear. She had been shot in the head, and her and her father's bodies had been found in a burnt out truck in a remote area. Nothing else is known, unless you believe rumors. The rumors are awful. Try as I may, I still hear them. I feel like screaming to who ever is talking when I hear them, to shut up. Whatever they have to say is only causing more hurt, more pain. Who cares? Tiffany is dead. Gone. I will never see her smile again. I will not be able to fulfill my promise of seeing her run at cross country finals next year.

I'm driving down the road and I wonder what is the point to all of this? Do I really want to keep living only to be killed in some ruthless act of violence? I looked at the mailboxes and wondered if crashing into one would end my life. I kept driving. Somewhere, someplace in my mind told me to keep driving. And I kept thinking.

I thought about the guy I like, my friends, college, my family. My teachers, my classmates, my teammates. My senior prom, graduation, moving out on my own. What would all my friends do? Would they miss me? Who would come to my funeral? Would anyone remember me a year from now?

You never know the answers to these questions. I hoped my friends would remember me. I hoped my friends would miss me, but I also knew I didn't want to cause them unneeded pain. I knew them to well for that. I have a life to live.

I have a life to live.

I wanted to see if maybe I could get the guy I like to like me back. Fulfill my new year's resolution and find a prom date. Go to college, get a job, get married(not necessarily in that order). Heck, I had physics homework to do. I had clothes to wash, and a bed that I should have made before I left home that morning. I had The Princess Bride to finish reading. I wanted to see The Two Towers when it comes out next December. I wanted to see my dad this weekend. I wanted to think, to breathe, to live.

I have a life to live.

She lays on the rented hospital bed in the blocked off living room, next to my chair.

She doesn't say anything, doesn't respond when you ask her if the piano music is loud enough, just calmly stares off into the distance. Other people bustle through the house while I just sit there, wondering what she is thinking.

She's dying of cancer, and I have never watched someone die before. I've known people who have died, some by drinking, one by a bullet, and one by an axe. But they all happened as something far away, not close.

My mom asks her if she wants to have pea soup or macaroni for her dinner, and she doesn't reply, doesn't move a muscle. We manage to get her attention with some Indonesian deserts I had brought from lunch. My uncle leaves to do some work, and my mother busies herself in the kitchen. I sit, and I wait, for something that I hope doesn't come, but I slightly wish would hurry up.

They talk as if she's already dead, how they are going to divide up the estate and the like. I never thought I would see someone sign a check to pay for their own cremation, but I now have. She doesn't seem to mind, she seems to see that it's better to get this out of the way, so her children won't have as much hassle when she dies. Still, I don't know if I could bring myself to sign my own bill for cremation.

I said my goodbye to her on Saturday before I left for my flight, leaned over and embraced her, and felt her tears on my shoulder. I rarely cry, but that was the last I will ever see of her. Before I walked out the door, I gave her a silent kiss on her forehead; just below the wool cap she wore to hide her lack of hair.

She is in much pain, she gets a morphine patch every three days which seems to help, along with numerous medications to help her suffering. Nothing to stop the cancer, as it is terminal.

I do not feel one emotion at a time, as many linear thinkers would have me believe. Now I feel many emotions. I want her to die, right now, so that she will be free of her days of waiting, waiting for the end. I want her to die so she will be out of her pain. But I want her to live to see all the things I see, all the beauty I have yet to show her. I want her to die because I love her, but I want her to live because I love her more.

I go to school soon, and I can only wait. Every time I hear the phone ring, I imagine it's my uncle, and I watch for my mother's smile to disappear. But no, it's a telecommunications company with another plan.

While I know it is coming, that doesn't stop this. I miss her, and she isn't even gone. I miss the her that she used to be, that vibrant and exciting woman that I loved. But all I can do now is wait.

So I wait.

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Today I finished my viewing of Babylon 5. I'll add my upvote and recommend it to anyone who's heard of it but not yet watched it. I'm still hoping for action on the DVD front.

Having seen reference to it many times, and seeing it C!'ed twice this evening, I finally visited donfreenut's writeup in Butterfinger McFlurry. If you haven't read it yet, I would not recommend that you do so (and I'm not trying to dictate your choices). Let me just tell you that it is virtually nothing but profanity from beginning to end, with a nutrient list thrown in the middle.

I made a comment in the chatterbox that I regretted that this kind of writing makes a name for itself on E2. (At the time of writing, it has 17 C!'s.) This was met with comments from various people along the lines of "C-Dawg's in a bad mood, maybe he needs a Butterfinger McFlurry". (That was not anybody's comment, just the gestalt.) And that was followed by a comment from an E2 god, Dude, it's factual. Like that's an excuse for it. And, as I then mentioned in the chatterbox (using plenty of vulgar language, though I can't match the mastery of it illustrated in that writeup), that factual node doesn't even get around to mentioning what a McFlurry is (essentially, ice cream with chunks of candy in it -- though I can't be sure since I've never had one and was not enlightened by that writeup.)

Well, at least that got me borged finally, so now I know a bit about that state, which I wasn't able to learn a week or two ago when I was asking about it in the chatterbox, just from curiosity. In case you're curious:

• You don't get a message telling you that you've been borged (of course, there is the general message in the chatterbox)
• You don't get a message telling you that you're no longer borged
• Unfortunately, I didn't attempt to submit a comment while I was in EDB's belly, so I can't report what happens then.

I know that when people rant like this about E2 shortcomings, the behavior they decry may be from only a few, but I find it disappointing that several people in the catbox (humorously, perhaps) suggested that I shouldn't take issue with such writing. (One noder voiced his agreement with my frustration.) And while I'm glad it has a significantly negative reputation (my downvote put it at -37), I'm very disappointed that it has 125 upvotes and has attained an iconic position in our community. This writeup, and its reception among parts of E2, doesn't sound to me like we're raising the bar.

Not much to say.

It's so cold here, rain, snow maybe in Jerusalem soon.... Big deal.

I don't know what I need, a girlfriend, drugs, money

But I do need something

Everything is disgustingly ok

This morning, a rare thing occured.....I woke up before my boyfriend. Normally he is up and about before my lazy ass is in gear. I sat on the floor next to the bed, and watched him sleep. He looked at peace, and I started to realize how much I really do love him.

He is my all. My everything. When I am with him, I feel complete, safe, out of harms way. He is my lover, and most of all, he is my best friend. We share everything, from something as simple as a Coke, to our deepest fears.

Today is a good day.

Bring on the downvotes, but I agree with C-Dawg on this.... What a waste of C!s that whole Butterfinger McFlurry node. Its a prime example of how low E2 is getting. Another example of how those nodes that are crap getting the highest votes and those with the best information hardly get any votes at all.... I don't understand how a node that spews crap gets 17 cools, can someone please explain it to me....


Maybe E2 is a BBS

A new week begins with a headache, tepid coffee and too little sleep. But I am trudging through work, yes I am (despite this little daylog detour).

The whole of last week was certainly made much better by the fact that my boyfriend was able to reside with me before school began again. On the afternoons when I returned from work, we gorged on a variety of naughty foods, since our wallets were slightly bulkier after Christmas. Well now they have slimmed up once again, but we enjoyed it while we could. Sushi, primarily. And the surprise snow on Thursday and Friday were welcome changes in Georgia weather. The snow averaged 3-4 inches throughout the upper half of the state, which is rare. Iced up the pathway to my apartment nice and lovely so I took a little plunge one morning, my ass kissing the cold slick surface oh-so-gracefully. Considering this incident, and the one a few weeks ago where I fell down the stairs at my father’s house, I’d say gravity has it in for me. But I’ll hush on that since it’s my paranoia speaking, and frankly I think everyone is against me, not just gravity.

Hush O-Swirl! In other, and I’m sure terribly interesting, O-Swirl news, my beta, Soma, is sick. Popeye is what ails him. I’ve managed to catch it relatively early so we ran to the store for fish antiobiotics three days ago. He has not fully recovered, but he ate a few food pellets yesterday, so I’m hoping for the best.

We had several friends from out of town stay with us for about three days last week, during New Years, which was pretty cool. I’ve had few guests stay overnight at my abode, and it turned out nicely. We showed them around lovely ol’ Athens, ate too much Thai, watched a well-loved film of mine (Grosse Pointe Blank), and partied too hard on New Years. Yeehaw. I plan on being a homebody for several months now- plan, mind you- with a smattering of outings to relieve my occasionally introverted tendencies.

We saw The Lord of the Rings yesterday. I very much enjoyed the film, and definitely feel that it is one worth watching in the theater before it departs for video; the special effects are wonderous. A did not notice the length of the movie due to the unrelenting action. A good flick indeed.

I must return to my obituary writing at the moment. I wish all a lovely day.

Its dark outside. The rush hour traffic lights slide down the window. The guys from support were chatty and louder than usual. But now even they have left and there are only a few people in the area clacking on their keyboards.

I got in late today so I'm staying late which means I'm here until about a quarter after 6. Its all for show really, since I'm daylogging and writing e mails to old uni buddies.

This weekend was pretty good. I'm a little bummed that I missed the Simpsons episode last night since there was a Brenda robot in it. We'll have to download that episode. :)

Work sucks. But in a dull, aching way. As long as I talk to enough humans, I'm ok. I don't start thinking I'm trapped here. My co-worker Tatiana is really nice. She's from Russia origionally. Adventurous and positive. I'd love to have a mom like her.

I'm thinking about going to England to visit one of my uni buddies, Sarah. Its really cheap to go in February (from Toronto) but maybe thats when they have the worst weather (even for London). Send me message if you have any input on going to London in February. I don't want to go if its going to be boring or miserable weather.

My boyfriend probably won't come with me. I don't think he appreciates history and culture as much as I do. He would rather be in a hammock on a beach in the Dominican sipping pina coladas. My thoughts are that I may be able to squeeze in both this year. And maybe a couple camping trips besides.

Well its almost time to be gone. Send me your thoughts on London in February. I'm listening!