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[edit: umm... yeah]
Archive for April, 2006
Superman is a dick. (via) My favorite: survival of the fittest.
crabby admin
Warning: rant ahead.
The thought of not having to be system admin again is rose petals on the path of Tomorrow. I mean, it won’t miss me either; I suck cold gorilla balls. At AITGOC, I can’t get linux-en to join the AD family; I can’t re-hatch roo.
Tonight, I tried for the third night in a row to install Bugzilla on a Win2k3 box for a client, to no avail. I felt the machine shudder when I clicked the msi for MySQL, CVSNT, and Perl. I couldn’t blame it. I felt dirty too. Then I got introduced to the world of IIS, which is cut-yourself fun. a GUI? wtf? Was an animated dog going to guide me through ISAPI mappings?
going to bed before I get any angrier. rar.
can opened
Akismet installed! Alright, let’s see how it works. (thanks gecko)
macgyver
Friends, I have grown a mullet. And it is majestic.
nurturing environment
Scene: Our office. Nothing Compares 2 U playing. Selfish Crab belting. Colleague from Upstairs finishing a visit.
Crab: “… Tell me baby, where did I go wrong? ….”
Colleague: Hey, who sings this?
Crab: This song? It’s Prince! And Rosie Gaines.
Colleague: Well, how about we let them sing it?
Crab: ….
[sound of Selfish Balls shrinking back up into his body]
End scene.
Humph.
I want to say ‘hippopotamus’ with a British accent.
2am is primetime
Oh great, another “oh hey, it’s 2am and i’m listening to hush hush hush iron & wine for the past hour, i feel like blogging” kind of sunday night. Another bout of writing that deserves a wine pairing. That or Booker’s bourbon. What sweet, sweet nectar. If you cut God with a switchblade, it is Booker’s Bourbon you would be drinking from his wounds.
Caught up on old correspondence. Letters of no less than 2 pages, out to people of friends of no less than 8 years. Diaspora! We’re flung to the corners of… New Jersey. No, ha, that’s a joke. Too many in Boston, though. H = hoary.
I cruised facebook and tried to link up with more of my past. There’s something nourishing about seeing new pictures of old friends and remembering how you knew them way back when… To watch old seeds grow… To imagine possibilities now closed… To write another wistful sentence fragment…
Alright, 3am is my limit. To borrow from a wise friend, I hate sleeping (at night) and love sleeping (in the morning).
it was a good weekend
reverted
goddamn it, while upgrading to 2.0.2, I screwed up moving my wp-content and lost all my stylesheets and custom templates. The lesson here is that is pays to be paranoid enough to keep two sets of backups. So now I’m on six-month old templates. Sigh, all that work, gone. Like buckwheat.
fahkfahkina
NY Times profiles hookah and they came all the way uptown for an opening anecdote:
Zachary Kleinhandler, a senior at Columbia College, does not smoke cigarettes. In fact, he thinks cigarette smoking is kind of a dirty habit.
But every few nights, he and his friends share a hookah at the Casbah Rouge, a Moroccan restaurant a few blocks south of the campus, drawing in mellow-as-molasses flavored tobacco that bubbles through the water pipes and gives the air a fruity sweet scent.
…
At the Casbah Rouge, a Moroccan restaurant a few blocks from Columbia University, from left, Jenna Crouch, Erica Carley and Marjorie Yang, all students at Barnard College, enjoying a jasmine-flavored bowl.
thoughts upon my visits to the gym
- Lifting weights is a programmer’s workout. Consider it: expending effort to build compartmentalized worker units that continue to burn calories even while you are at rest.
- I am amazed and fascinated at the flexibility of females. When I see women lift their legs onto a rail and then fold their body down into a full stretch, my body will spontaneously produce 500 new sperm.
- “You stretch real good” is not a good pick-up line.
waitlisted
Even though my choice is mostly set, disappointment comes on the admissions front. Gosh, I am knickerbocker-terrible at admissions. Can someone please make me a button that says, “Congratulations fuckface, you’re mediocre!”
revelation
Holy crap, Wildfiring is, like, a hundred times more tolerable after a beer. After three and sending to faculty, it’s a flat-out partay.
When I Wake Up, God Sees Me
And he frowns upon what I do in my room. Happy Easter, from this pagan.
party of one
When one creates a user account in Linux, the user’s default group is one that contains just that user. What could be a more codified instance of geek loneliness?
freedom is oppressive
Dawdle dawdle, stir stir. What a quiet Saturday afternoon. Gym, errands, and an aborted brunch (note to self: famed sturgeon eateries tend to be closed during Passover.) Egg salad on a wheat bagel enjoyed on an avenue median, reading books about failed business ventures in the park, and a dangerous nap in the grass.
Twice this weekend, I’ve heard a friend grouse that when at home “they do nothing”. Sounds like typical recent-graduate young-professional malaise accentuated by too much freedom in a lifestyle. What do they want to do? I wonder if freedom should really be reserved for the truly unbridled personalities. I don’t think most people would care if you told them they could only do X or Y.
Freedom to do anything with your life raises expectations, let’s face it! It’s suffocating. I’m not even talking about monetary success. I’m talking about spinning experiental gold in a 1980’s musical montage. Going to parties (nsfw) dripping in hipster chic. Talking to strangers with foreign accents. Leaving Man-fucking-hattan.
yeah, i know. this writing is abstract and vague, like jottings (not droppings) of an astronaut in the atmosphere. what do you expect from 4am bloggin amidst a playlist of The Lonely Crowded West and Tallahasee. but don’t worry. i should grow out of these lame sentiments soon enough. next, I’ll be boring you with baby pictures and reasons why my Porsche scratches life’s itches.
touchup
To the close observer or non-feedreader, you may notice some layout touchups. Single post metadata and next/prev buttons moved to the sidebar.
next I promise to fix wordpress’s strange choice of “next entries” meaning “future entries” being on the right side, and “previous entries” meaning “past entries” on the left side.