Last seen Friday, February, 20th boarding Metro North train 8:33 p.m. at Poughkeepsie bound for Grand Central Station N.Y.C. traveling from college to home.
Anyone with any info. Please call (845)451-4000.
Note: She is the daughter of a social studies teacher from my high school.
Sharon deleted my Screen Name from her buddy list. It is painful
to have someone I consider my good friend shut me out. (She blocks
those who are not on her buddy list.) Although I can always call
her and I know where she lives, I was always content with the
assurance that she was one double-click away from contact when we
were both up at 4 A.M. in the morning.
One side of me wants to reach out and reestablish our friendship;
the other wants to block her from my own buddy list and say fuck
it—if she doesn’t want me in her life then I don’t want her in
mine.
I can’t help but consider if this is what I deserve. Did I really
alienate myself so much from her? Am I really that that bad of a
friend?
Or am I just that much of a putz to convince myself from being
offended to being sorry?
Today marks the one-year anniversary of when I wrote No More Blogging? It seems that blogging slows down (for me, at least) in the months before February. Maybe it’s the weather.
Software projects often receive feature requests which end with
pathetic excuses such as “I would do it, but I don’t have the skills
to.” To me this translates to “I haven’t tried. If I had, I would
have had some progress and would have reported my failures. I would
rather have other people do work to achieve my goals.” (This irksome
laziness is not foreign to me; I myself participate in it, though
I no longer do so in software projects’ mailing lists.)
I’ve come to realize that I am disgusted by what I recognize as my
own past behavior. I instinctively interpret my present as an
improvement of my past, leading to the conclusion that when others
do as I used to, they are making my mistakes. Their ignorance
prevents their realization—another mistake. This may be a
twisted form of a superiority complex, but I can’t help but wonder
if it is also a form of self-hate.
Adding to my troubled self-analysis is my recurring nostalgia. In
contrast to the above scenarios, in these cases I feel that the
past may be better than the present and wish for it back. Lost
friendships are often the theme, leading me to attempt a futile
contact—another failure reminding me of what good I lost.
“I don’t like myself much.” (Johnny the Homicidal Maniac)
This week I decided to be my own SpamCop and report some person who has been hammering my site with virii/spam/whatever.
Ah, peace.
It can take pictures. I’ve always wanted to be able to carry a camera everywhere I go. Now I guess I have to. (To an extent.)
The camera doesn’t seem to do too well in dark places, though. The quality in all lighting environments seems to be below average. My brother assured me that the quality is better than what is shown on the tiny built-in LCD, recalling his experience with his old phone/camera combo.
I am tempted to purchase a $60 USB cable in order to upload/download without a 25 cent charge. Yet the documentation is thoroughly lacking. I don’t know what I get if I plop down $60 for the two of us. (My brother and I have the same phone.) All I know is that there is a USB cable available—whether or not it serves the purposes I wish it to serve is another matter.
My phone is actually thoroughly disappointing, in many ways. It’s way too fragile—there is nothing protecting what I call the “lens,” the outermost layer of plastic/glass. Now I must dedicate an entire pocket to it in the hopes of preserving my future digital photography.
There are two left and two right buttons, which in most cases are exclusively used of each other. Why not just combine the buttons into bigger, easier to push ones instead?
The manual is pathetic. The table of contents is too dense and the actual sections describing each function are too sparse. The quick reference guide was more helpful than the thick manual.
There was a lacking of freebies—one phone holster that is poorly designed (as my brother whined about) and no hands-free, no car charger, etc.
There are a lot of other, minor annoyances that show that this phone wasn’t really well tested before shipping. They just add up to a lot. (In other words, I’m too tired to write anymore.)
I dislike having to deal with money. I hate mooching off of others, and being mooched off of makes me feel used. Trying to correct the latter situation quickly becomes uncomfortable—do I risk my friendship or do I continue being leeched off of?
I guess the only solution is to become so rich that money no longer matters,
Thanks for giving me the biggest compliment of them all: “What a bitch.”
Amid my unemployment, I decided to try to write a Perl plugin for gaim. However, I could not get gaim to display the sample scripts provided. Asking on IRC (#gaim at irc.freenode.net) pointed me to a problem with 0.75. Luckily, a patch was provided. Unluckily, it did not solve my problem.
Since the problem was with 0.75, I decided to try out 0.74, which was not supposed to have that problem. This too did not work, leading me to suspect a problem with OpenBSD’s port of gaim.
I contacted the maintainer of the OpenBSD port, who enlightened me to the fact that Perl plugins were disabled. A quick change in the Makefile enabled the plugin:
Build with Perl support....... : yes
Of course, it did not work.
If this does not get resolved, I may have to write a C plugin, which I do not look forward to doing. On the bright side, I may be able to sharpen my C skills in the process.
Amid this failure, was success—this blog now has an RSS feed.