Went to the new

Air & Space Museum

last week.

I'll see if I can post pics later.
*shrug*

Don't ask me.

I just work here.
meditating

on

air
Am I the only one

who likes bath gifts sets?

Not that I want 12 of them, mind.
My parents

put the b

in subtle.
Okay, now that oughta be illegal.

"Jingle Bells" as your ring tone.

Honestly.
Oh, pfoo!

Again,

I asked them to box it up

and forgot the box.

Darn.
Ben! Another

recipe from textism.

I do love him so.
Business partners

who bring you chocolate

from Europe

get their trouble tickets answered

first.
Hug somebody.
Oh good.

They're home.

No jury would convict me.

I swear.
Trying something new,

in yet another attempt

to shuck spam:

sherbie at

that game company domain.
Another reason to love Austin:

The price of membership

at I Love Video is $2.50

or

cutting up your Blockbuster card.
I've little to report.

Um...

What's the best way

to overthrow a dictatorship?

Just making conversation...
I Love Video

has Dangermouse episodes

for rent!
Irrefutible fact:

You cannot like someone

and debug his code.
If you do your job well,

people will think your job is easy.

Resist the urge

to rip off their heads

and cram them down their throats

when they compliment you thus.
Sat by the waterfront,

drank coffee,

pecked at a novel.

More days off,

more.
Took a nap

outside

in shorts

yesterday.

Weather is so odd.
Took yesterday off.

Read, wrote,

ate pumpkin pie in my pajamas.

*bliss*
Dude.

We get Dr. Joyce Brothers.

Nashville gets Harry Connick, Jr.!

I feel gyped.
How much sex

is a book allowed to have

and still have

a successful commercial release?
Hey.

You there.

Hug someone you love,

and be thankful that you can.
I have to write

my self-assessment.

Can you tell?

*sigh*
Hey.

I wonder if this

is the Alex I know.

I so need to get back to work.
This is so petty.

Filtering by Austin,

sorting by wordcount, descending

I'm on the first page!

And my friend Marshall

is third. Wow.
Put up a post

and then another excerpt

on my LiveJournal.
Possibly against

my better judgement,

I have posted

the first excerpt.
The question is,

should I start a livejournal

just to post novel excerpts?
1721 words.

3.5 hours.

And I didn't wimp out

on the sex scene.

Yo.
2149 words today.

4-and-a-half hours.

Hm.
Neil Gaiman uses the

same kind of notebook I do!

I'm a real writer!
Checking your wordcount

after every paragraph

is like weighing yourself

every day.
Wrote 1,700+ words yesterday.

Woo!

Took four hours. Hm.
You paged me

at 9:30 at night

about a webpage?!

That I don't even own?!!

I need a cup of coffee.
In your right-click menu,

why are "Save As..."

and "Print"

right next to each other?

*sigh*
Arrrrrrhh,

matey.
Of course, we all know

what this weekend is:

Zommmmmbie pirates!

I have a monkey.
So, I dunno...

Got any plans this weekend?
I should post

when I'm happy, too, right?

Um...

Hi.
You know this rule, right?

Don't ask a woman

if she is pregnant.

Here's another:

Please don't ask

if I got some sun.

It's acne meds, k?
And Kill Bill:

Good grief.

I can't wait for Volume 2.
Mystic River:

A passable script

saved by

amazing performances.
*gnash gnash*

It's just a lot

of little things.
It's official,

today:

I

am a professional

writer!
And I'm still

lactose intollerant.

I'll spare you

the details.
My job would be

easier

irrelevant

without users.
It's alive,

aliiiiiiiiive!
And...

we're off!
Oh, good heavens.

I registered.
Oh, and...

Zombie pirates!
Deployment

this Friday.
Y'know?

I have great friends.

Just sayin'.
Ooh,

a utility for generating

photo galleries.

Spiffy.
News that makes you want to call your loved ones

I know this guy:

Police say [...] discovered his pregnant wife dead in their home in the 2200 block of Hamlet Circle about 1:30 p.m. Tuesday. Police say she appeared to have been stabbed in the upper torso when her body was found by her husband.

From KVUE, who, in addition to being the most useless news channel, ask way too much info to let you read their stupid news.
In a perfect world, work would

never contain the phrases:

touch base

under the covers

sweet spot

get another head

let's get a room

dell on dell
Oog.

"We're out of soy milk."

"That's okay."

Wrong answer.
Oh.

Hm.

I lost.
My ears itch.

Further announcements

as events warrant.
Last night, awake,

a voice spoke intimately:

"You, too, will die,

someday.

It will hurt. You will be frightened."

I lay awake a long time.
Day at the lake.

Pajama party.

And a hicky.

It's what weekends

are all about, baby.
I'd rather be

reading my Sandman book.
For all the other reasons

I love Textism,

I love his recipes the most.
My precioussssss
This is starting

to look like a habit.
Well I thought it was funny.
create bat dir

...

To the Bat Dir, Robin!

swoosh
*cough*

Well,

it's good

MST3K

material.
I feel virtuous,

being here this early.
Incessant machine hum

makes you psychotic.

I know.
Sorry.

I don't feel like trying.

Gimme a week or so.
Undeniable wisdom from Shawn:

"Powdered creamer

comes from undead cows."
AAAH! Childhood trauma!

Researching below,

follow to Michael Caine,

find confirmation of nightmare

I was never before sure

had actually existed.
Secondhand Lions:

Enchantingly predictable,

predictably sweet.
What we need is more

Science.
It's not motivating to post

when there can be no comments.

Strangely,

it is also not motivating to work.
FYI,

the comments server

died a few days ago.

They're working on a fix.
Sick computer

is convalescing.

And I have so much

to tell you.
While yummy,

Schlotzky smoothies

are not as good

as Panda smoothies.
Woo, so I feel clever.

Look:

archives.
I can't help it.

The initiative

"Dell on Dell"

gives me such

inappropriate thoughts.
No, sir,

I just don't know.
The moveable light sign

flashes:

"All left lanes

must turn left,"

and we are enlightened.
Project Managers

who bring you chocolate

from Germany

are O.K.
*snort*

Mighty Girl writes homilies:

"Marriage has many pains,

but celibacy has no pleasures."
You know your barista's name:

You're friendly.

Your barista knows your name:

You have a problem.
Toastmasters contest went great.

Better than great!

Thanks to all my helpers.

Yay!
Ana update:

Still stuck.

Two days and counting.

Still don't know the words.

I blame Faith.
If I'm reading this right,

this is chocolate-covered yogurt.

Those wacky Germans.
Argh.

Ana Ng is stuck in my head,

and I don't know the words.
My dad's proud of me.
Nicole Kidman asks me:

Why live life

from dream to dream,

and dread the day

when dreaming ends?
A metaphor:

A friend gave me a plant.

In my care, it died.

But it had a sprig of clover in it.

I continue to water the soil.

The clover thrives.
Big Village reminds me:

She had a job

in the land of the free.

She had oceans of money

and islands of things.

It's like trying to breathe

with your head underground.

You try to forget

but you know in your heart:

It's the river,

goes on and on and on.

Thus ends

Jon And Sharon Week.

But every week

is Jon And Sharon Week.

We should get more

holiday time, though.
Rule 5 says

"When others comment

asking to be interviewed,

you will ask them five questions."

So, y'know, as you will.
5. The right answer?

Canvas.

But I use plastic.

*sigh*
4. Take a mysterious,

squishy thing,

and define it,

own it,

know it.
3. When the topic is

manners, clothes, or brisket:

a Texan.

Politics, religion, ecology,

Mardi Gras, or chicken fried steak?

Pennsylvanian.
2. Can I come over

to your place?
1. "Smart is sexy."

It preceded a first kiss,

so I married him.
Fred is playing a game.

It has rules; I'm short on space.

He posted 'em there.

And I'm so far unable

to track this to its source.

But let's do this Johnny Carson style...
And we are finished!

Fuck, yeah.

And now...

sleep.
Straw poll:

"Oversight" --

when you oversee,

or when you overlook?

*gnash gnash*
The grass is so green

the sidewalk is envious.
Party leftovers:

soft corn tortilla,

sticks of monterey jack,

peach salsa,

roll up and nuke for a minute.

Unexpected yum!
It's still sage advice:

Don't quit

before breakfast.

But I've eaten now...
My skin

is peeling

off of my skull.

Yargh.
Geek love:

"We make quite a pair."

"Like John and John."
A lifetime

and a heartbeat:

Two years of marriage.
Things I didn't know:

Warren Spector

plays a rockin' guitar.
*cough*

And "actionable" means

able to be sued over,

not able to be acted on.

Even the permissive dictionary

says so.
*sigh*

You obtain documents,

not attain them.

It's so lonely here,

I tell you.
*!

"May or may not"

is meaningless.

Inherent in "may"

is "may not."
Thought One:

Peruse the resumes

of sites we admire

for inspiration.

Thought Two:

We are a no-talent hack.
Y'know what?

It's been too long.
I think I succeed

in spite of myself.
Listening,

on the drive to and from,

to King Missile,

none of which

is appropriate

to hum in business meetings.
Fuckers!

My dinner's gone.

The laptop thefts were unsettling,

but this...

this crosses a line.
Oh, and:

Decaf is for pansies.
Granted,

they are being very quiet.

However,

very quiet children,

in the cubicle farm,

are still very loud.
*groan*

Day 10: No Caffeine.

Not... going... to... make it.

Give me strength.
I made enchiladas!

They were yummy.

I miss Mom, though.
Meetings

drag even slower

when there's a mommy

in your apartment.
I'm weakening.

Planful

isn't an adjective,

but should be.
Idle thoughts that herald

major paradigm shifts:

"Huh. I wonder if we'll hit 34 today."

What have I become?
Time

is passing

soooooooooo

slowly.
In the airport,

the tiny airport,

my mom arrives toniiiiiiiight...
My boy's legal!

Now we can go on

proper dates.

Yay!
Tee hee!

Mom posted pictures

from their last trip to Austin.

Go into slideshow mode

to see her cute captions.
When all your meetings

are conference calls,

onions are OK.
Do girls get

receding hairlines?

Ack.
Back. -ish.

Hid from the sun; still got sick.

Made a new friend.

Saw M13.

Drowned in the Milky Way.
Farm Party!

In a few hours!

And I'm giving

an astronomy talk.

Can't wait.
My husband

recognizes me

by my punctuation.
Guilty confession:

Harry Potter 5

is an absolute page-turner.
Oog.

I never should have

taken up with that incubus.

Man, am I tired.
Stay good, Sherbie.

Stay good!
Let your husband take a nap.

Paint your face

in a green mud mask.

Wake him with a kiss.

Who says married life is dull?
I'm just a fool who

Thought that Cthulhu

Could fall in
love!


It's been awhile, eh?

"Aspire"

is not a transitive verb.

I'm barefoot.

Shh...
Self-assessment:

Done!

dancey, dancey, dance
I'm working on my self-assessment,

by the way.
Damn it.

Everybody cool

is at that con.

*geek whimper*
Overwhelming...

fangirl...

lust! *gasp*

Going to...

implode!
The hardest task in the world:

Writing one's self-assessment.

I may gouge my eyes out,

simply to get out of it.

How do you

cheer yourself

up?

Hey nifty.

I just set up a discussion board

for Invisible City.

Go make it look like

we have friends, would ya?
Today's posts brought to you by:

Evil!

Pure and simple

from the 8th Dimension.
Not my goddamn planet,

Monkey-boy.
No matter where you go,

there you are.
Why is there a watermelon there?
It's like,

when you finally score a date

with the cutest boy at school

and he turns out to be

faintly dull, and sort of awkward.

League of Extraordinary Gentlemen

just... doesn't quite.
Mother always said:

You've gotta write mail

to get mail.

But, y'know, Monday...

Leave a comment anyway?
Jon asked me, plaintively,

if I have trouble with the tortilla bag.

I said yes.

When next I fetched it, I found

the Hulk had been making burritos.
The words

href="http://www.neilgaiman.com/journal/2003_07_01_archive.asp#1057795492052
47392">Narnia slash fiction

just broke my head.

And we are live!
Install today.

Cross yer fingers...

Goodness.

It must be exciting

to be as perfect as you.

Now shut the fuck up.

(What? Oh, not you, of course.

Cubicle farm. Them. Y'know, men.)
Siiiiiiiiighhhh.
Damn it.

Even in the future,

nuthin' works.
Big thunder!
Since I can't say

anything nice...
Oh, the temptation...

A speaker phone,

dialed in to a conference call,

in an empty cubicle...
Happy birthday,

Ben-Jammin'.
I miss my barrista, yo.

(Yes, I have fallen

off the wagon.

In my defense,

I am debugging,

and that requires caffiene.)
Don't look at me like that.

I'm on to you.

You think you can fool me,

but I know you.

You're a user.
I think my sole job at Dell

is to turn off the drippy faucet

in the 3rd-floor ladies'.

Had to go in today.

Ayup.
Holy meme.

(There's backstory to that strip.)

Am I disloyal for liking

Sluggy-by-Foglio

better?
Everybody else

misspells it.

Why shouldn't I?

It's the little things,

like your last name,

that you lose first...
This is so weird.

My eyelids are swollen.

I look sleepy.

No, I don't know why

I'm telling you.
No jury

would convict me.
A private moment, glimpsed:

Our grouchy DBA,

eating lunch with his daughter,

grinning like an idiot,

completely disarmed.
...Tell me

to go to work.
And Neil published

another of my letters:

second one down

on Sunday.
No freakin' way.

Sluggy Freelance's

"Filler Week Guest Artist"

is Phil Foglio!
*sniff*

Go see Finding Nemo.

Goodness, it was sweet.
Oh, god.

This is what they mean.

This is writers block.

I hate it.
It's the weekend.

I'm craving coffee.

I don't have a problem.

I don't have a problem.
Y'know what I like about

Imaginary Year?

Reading about other people

being people

makes me feel

more like a people.
Are y'all finding me okay?
New version of Blogger =

Lo-fi version for flunkies =

PDA-compatible blogging =

Happy Sherbie
Thank you.

My moment of weakness

has passed.

My blog still won't publish,

mind you.
Okay, I'm gonna

be a user for just one second:

Quit changin' shit

that used ta work

and makin' it not work.
But I don'

wannaaaaaah.
For a complete change of pace,

I am writing a ballad.

It's delightfully awful.
Overheard:

"What happened to your

horns last night?"

Music?

No, football.
They're calling me,

calling me.
The creepy thing is

co-workers are logged in, too.

I'm not tired;

I'm bored.
Heh.
Spam tells us:

Women should be smaller.

Men should be larger.
Realization of a life-long dream:

My first ride in a Jeep Wrangler.

Doors off, and everything.

Oh... yeaaahhh...

('Course, I'll never get a brush

through my hair again.)
Powazek gives us

a story worth reading.

Masterful.
Version control

is for pansies.

[bangs head on keyboard]
May I just say?

37signals

makes me hot.
Have I got this right?

If we all run to the east,

we can slow the earth's rotation,

and get more hours in the day.

Who's with me?
Fat

jokes

aren't

funny.
It takes

a special kind of lunatic

to keep a cuckoo clock,

and a special kind of sadist

to keep one in an apartment.
Dude.

Smart code.
Picked a hell of a day

to quit sniffing glue.
Argh!

"Root-cause"

is not a verb.

Still,

I'm glad we did.
Oh, good.

Thanks for taking care

of that for me.

Those trees were really

mucking up the view

on my commute.
Oh, dear god,

it's a sign.
Strangely enough,

the result is kind of apt.

Auto-generated blog poem

posted in comments...
The sky dark like night.

Wipers on high not quite adequate.

Lightening strikes, just over there.

Accoustic Susanne Vega.

Wet through, on my way to work.
I'm proud of

this essay.
Holy fuck!

All I wanted was a little sun.

I step out for less than a

cigarette break,

and I get bitten by an ant!

Ow. *sniff*
motivate me
Okay, you know what?

Maybe

he's not so dumb

after all.
Never engage in a

grossest-food-I-ever-ate discussion

with a woman from China

and a man who lived in Malaysia,

and then try to find lunch

in the cafeteria. *ugh*
This

was

awesome.
I am so stylin'

in my fly headset.
According to the interweb,

it is 98 degrees outside.
Okay, you know me and spam,

but I have to admit,

"Lobster Gram"

is kinda funny.
Whence comes this

pathological resistance

to throwing away

twisty-ties?
Nothing can get me down.

Will post pictures soon.

Mountains, trees, beach, waterfall,

Disco Inferno.

More to come...
I think I am going to take

a little blog vacation.

I need less noise

right now.

Maybe a week...
moonlight

fire

drumming

ukelele, harp, and concertina

at home in my own skin
Sage advice:

Before you quit your job,

eat breakfast.

Coffee helps, too.
shut up shut up shut up shut up
shut up shut up shut up shut up
shut up shut up shut up shut up
shut up shut up shut up shut up
shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up
On the up-side,

the conference call people

are just delightful.
If you can't say anything nice...

blog about it.
I used to build

Lincoln Log towers

just to knock them down.

I think

I have not outgrown this.
Off-site = Over-heated.

Erg.
No band-aid.

No mole.

A stranger stares back

from the monitor mirror.
She smells like fabric softner

when she walks past my cube,

and it is comforting.
Sweet.

Merciful.

Heaven.

We're.

Done.
Overheard:

"We're alpha.

We're not numeric."

Arooooo!
Nervous:

Forget to unplug,

and watch every bolt,

from 15 minutes away,

strike your apartment,

specifically.
*beam*

(Dental cleaning,

don'cha know.)
My issue with X-Men 2:

Good guys are not vigilantes,

even if the baddies

really need killing.
Fact:

I live below

the heaviest people

on earth.
Fact:

I am married

to the best man in the world.

Well, except Dad,

of course.
Every day I don't kill someone

is a good day.

By somebody's measure,

anyway.
If you give a Sherbie a cupcake...

she'll get crumbs

in her keyboard.
My

dogs

are

barkin'.

Whew.

Posted

from the wee beastie.

Bliss.

Wording

to your motha.
That's it.

I'm calling in well.
Oh my god,

ew!

Hole in my head.

Ew, ew, ew.
I've lost some weight.

Well,

a few grams,

anyway.
I am very tired.

I have written a lot

and not nearly enough,

but it is fun.
Dude.

I know life is grand.

I'm just having trouble

seeing that at the moment.

Got any pick-me-ups

lying around?
Well, I've got nothing bright to say.

You folks seem to do alright.

Here,

be funny.
It is charging,

my preciousssss...
How to get a 10% coupon:

Buy a PDA yesterday.

*sob*
God helps those

who help themselves.

Sharon, apparently,

picks up

every-fucking-one else.
But this helps.
The sky

succumbs

to intermittant crying jags.

This suits,

today.
*gleeeeeee*

"Order status:

Shipped."
nibbled to death

by ducks.
Figures.

I finally get a voicemail

on my eFax number

(603.909.0451),

and it's a wrong number.
*shuffle*

I just bought

*cough*

a PDA.

*blush*
Hey presto! Instant upgrade.

Don't buy a new memory card;

change some camera settings,

and quadruple the number

of available pics.
I am well blessed.

I have beautiful friends.
If the grocery-store radio

plays cool music,

you've gotten old.
I've lost my edge.

Is "baseline" a verb?
We are well loved,

you and I.
One foot

in front of

the other.
This is so cool:

I have a headset.

Ooh, stylin'.
My blog has become a

slo-mo chat room.

...

And I'm okay with that.
The cafeteria is taking liberties.

"Philly Cheesesteak

Soup."

A sin against nature.

Of course, I had to get some.
Neener

neener.
Life is beautiful,

with whipped cream.
Daylight Savings Time

is stupid.
I won the Evaluation Contest!

On to the District.
My Brasilian counterpart

is a Neil Gaiman fan!

So, and I'm sorry for

not telling you first,

I mentioned the time I met him.

Suddenly, we relate. ^_^
My heart can stop

hammering on my ribs

at any time now.
Ha!

Mighty Girl cracks me up.

Would that I could write like that.
Just to squick Shawn:

Folgers

coffee bag

with soy creamer.

Uncultured heathen, I know.
I

want

steak.

Just thought you'd like to know.
Well that's a new tack

in advertising.

Spam says:

"Satisfy your woman,

you pindick."
Tee hee.

Hello, Meeker.

Welcome to my pockets.
Rewriting the speech

two days before the next contest

is a good thing.

Right?
Oh dear god,

a new kind of agony:

foot asleep

plus

foot cramp.
Oh, jeez, feeling old.

Heard in my

Corporate America Cafeteria:

Temple of the Dog.
From the source...

The biggest difference

between Brasil and the U.S.:

"We drink beer in big bottles,

and coffee in little cups."
Re-acclimating.
Um,

yeah.

That's about the size of it.

Found on Textism.
In San Jose,

meeting old friends.
Hotel with a T1,

so I can download all that spam

in style.
I should be sleepy.

But I'm going to

California in a few hours!
Time for a re-write:

"I pledge allegiance

to the Constitution..."
No way.

At the grocery store,

they zamboni the concrete!

My life is so surreal.
No! Noooooooo!

That was Ctrl+Q

(mark as read), Delete.

Not Ctrl+A (select all), Delete.

Heck.
ALIEN ATTACK!

...

Oh, wait.

Window washers.
*blink blink*

And an award and a bonus...

My business partner

rocks!
in denial
click, click, click, click, plug, click:

Sharon

gets ready

for calligraphy.
Y'know.

Perhaps I ought to practice

this speech I'm giving tonight.
Funny.

I don't feel any different.
Trying to get well

by acting well,

I switched ankle braces.

...

I am not well.

Ow.
How stupid do ya gotta be

to need your car to honk

in order to know that it's locked?

How did you get by

a decade ago?
I GOT A PROMOTION!



I'd like to thank all the little people

who live under my desk...
At this hour,

only spammers send me love.

And still,

I've failed.
I am an American.

I love my country.

I revere democracy.

This war is wrong.
fuck.
When it's time to re-evaluate:

When 6:30

is "overslept."
And, I say,

Ow.

Still.

(Bite me, Sharp.)
L-poppers,

L-poppites...

What are you?

Seeking suggestions...
My new panacea:

"Store it in the database!"
Overheard:

You're so zen,

I bet you think this song is.
Jeez.

Don't do that.
Ran in the woods

with my sweetie.

(Before falling, this was.)
Um.

Ow.
If I had my own blog,

I would write:
If I had any sense,

I'd be driving to Houston right now,

to see Stephen Hawking.

Dang.
My god,

it's full of glue.

(Dave Bowman,

I am not.)
Oh no!

Out of tissues!

Alas.
How long

do you search

for something

you're not sure

exists?
Where did all you people

come from,

all of a sudden?

Comment-o-rama.
My brains

are leaking out of my head

through my nose.
Now, off to my

scheduled-four-months-in-advance

dermatologist appointment.
I did it!

stand up and reach

stand up and reach


And I did it!

Rawr!
Boys give you colds.

Love you. Mean it.
oh, god.

cramps
Trees full of blossoms.
Okay,

what part of "garden burger"

made you think

I wanted bacon?
*blink blink*

Nobody said they'd be cute.
City of Angels:

The tears start

before the opening titles.

Perfect,

when that's what you need.
I dare you.
Good morning.
*bliss*
Sudden thought, to investigate:

If games are stored in the db,

instead of html,

will they come up

in search engines?
I had enough time to think,

"I'm falling...

I'm still falling."

Had a great climb last night.
You know something?

I like it when you comment.

It's lonely here.
Happy Birfday, Panda.

Sean Connery is still sexy,

and so are you.
Lost pines.

Found me.

Good day.
Developers always think

it'll take 10 minutes.

We're always wrong.

[drums fingers on useless keyboard...]
Hey, lookit:

It's 03/03/03.

Quick,

do something momentous.
It is a mac&cheese
kind of day.
The word for the day,

boys and girls,

is inauspicious.

Quit raining, you!

I'm hiking tomorrow.
French manicure, and voilà:

I look like Audrey Hepburn.
There's merit to this one.
eep.

I won.
F5:

1. short-short sci-fi.

2. Lion, Witch, Wardrobe.

3. because it's.

4. Jane Austen; Virginia Woolf.

5. 1, 2; next.
And, figuratively:

Where are you?
I'm pleased with how

this one turned out:

Who are you?
'S gonna be

a long day.
Another day,

another manager.
Snow days

when you're a grown-up

are marvelous.
I know you were dying

to know that.
Ack.

Callouses itch!
Jeremy reminds me

that it takes extra conviction

to protest in a Chicago winter.

It's easy to be indignant

in a t-shirt.
psst.

I won.
The volleyball courts

turn to lakes,

and I think

of your hands:

rainy day.
Who'd've thought?

A QA inspection

that added merit.
When an off-hand comment

shatters your life
.
I'm always the last to know:

Google bought Blogger.
Daredevil: As long as

you know you're right,

it's okay to exact punishment,

never mind our justice system

or civil liberties.

Apt.
What we

did today

with 10,000 friends.
Playing bocce

on my birthday.

(They creamed us.)
Bill Goldman,

author of The Princess Bride,

recommends

You Can Count On Me,

for what it's worth.
On site registrations:

I would rather pay you money

than give you my email address.
Oo!

1, 2, 3,
4, 5, 6

Or, rather,

PHP OO!
When talking about code,

I'd prefer you said,

"under the hood,"

instead of "under the covers."
What my world is like:

Textism

tells it like it is.
*gasp*

My microwave

has a mute button!

All of my dreams

have been fulfilled.
Shoot.

Ever devise the perfect meme

and then realize you only

remembered it?

At least there's Google,

to save you the embarrassment.
News websites

design as if

newsprint is expensive.
Oh, look.

I have a blog.

Where did that come from?
Another?!

[mouth hangs agape]

And then an utter shock,

and I'm done.

September is very far away.
Don't just sit there.

Say something.
Mental success:

Climbed an actual route,

sticking to just

the green-marked holds.

5.7 -- Woo hoo!

Also: Ow.
Oh, man.

We're running out of characters.

But then,

two I'd thought were done for

weren't.
And another character died,

by the way,

for those following along

at home.
Oh, brother.

"Push back"

is not a noun.
I bow in reverence

today

for the gifts I've been given,

too numerous

and too ethereal

to be listed.
This is not news:

I have wonderful friends.

I am a lucky, lucky

Sherbirfday Girl.

Yes.
They've torn up

the last remaining field

on my commute.

Fuckers.
And now they're home.

*sniff*

Swell visit. Much eating.

And much hugging.
They're here,

they're here.

Yay!
I want my mommy.

Oh, hey, lookee that!

Three hours left...
Damn it.

This gets bigger

every time I look at it.

Kudzu bugs, grrr.

*sigh*
Nothing like

new software

to make you feel

really stupid.
Geez, he did it again!

Being a character

in a George R. R. Martin book

is perilous, indeed.
Overheard in Corporate America:

"Don't be talkin' smack, man."
Picking up parents

in 14 hours.

Woo!
Things that

make me think of Jon.
I'll settle for a cup of coffee,

but you know what I really need.
I am subsisting on

coffee,

gum,

and nerves.
The phrase

"touch base"

has always seemed

slightly dirty to me.
Table Topics question for ya:

If you could,

what would you tell

your five-year-old self?
Ah ha!

The reason I always misspell

"epiphany"

is "epitome."
And now, a haiku:

Just ate a cookie.

Now I feel nauseated.

You would think I'd learn.
*gasp*

These books!

In ten swift pages,

he killed three main characters.

I am reeling, and engrossed.
Oh, man,

did the planets align this morning.

Thank you, thank you, thank you.
Toastmasters,

when you are not President,

is awesome!
Dear god.

I'm blogging about the weather.
It's hard to keep up.

Tuesday reached 80.

Currently, it is 36.
Can't

lift

arms...
What? No!

I'm a programmer.

Pro Gram Mer.

Who said I wanted to be

a Business Analyst? Ack.
Reset the p-RAM.
Girl Scout cookies

turn dads

into dealers.
The theme for conference rooms

on this floor is boardgames.

Overheard:

"Off to Aggravation?"

"Yep."

So true, so true...
Nothing like an impossible deadline

to demotivate me utterly.
What are you looking for?
Mmf.

It is too cruel,

having a weather applet

on your site,

when outside, it is 66,

and inside, it is beige.
This worked so well before.

Tell me a joke?
"Electronic paystubs...

except in Oregon."

*blink blink*

We have employees

in Oregon?
Unless you hurl yourself

relentlessly

at the cave for 2 hours,

in which case it hurts in 24. Ow.

But it's a good hurt.
Okay, ow.

Rock climbing hurts

36 hours later.
Woah.

I remembered my dreams today.
Things that catch you off guard:

The IRS sent only one

1040 form...

and that's the right number.
Like a magic elixer:

Toastmasters meeting,

past president.

I feel great!
Wistful thought

from the third floor:

I could go down there

and dig my toes

into the Sahara

of the volleyball courts.
Why I should seek help:

Customizing WeatherPixie,

it said sunrise was 10 min ago.

I turn around,

and am startled that it is light out.
Scene: Wal-Mart, interior

S: Shoe repair schmutz?

WM: Repair? Who repairs?

You should buy new boots.

S: ??! [attempts to extricate]

WM: It's the American way!

S: [sotto] If I wanted your opinion...
tee hee

The WeatherPixie
Personally,

if Blogger were going to fail,

I kinda wish it wouldn't

obliterate my blog when it did.

But I understand why it does.
Actually,

user-generated errors

are my favorite kind.

Easiest to fix.

*relieved sigh*
I think

this year's element

shall be:

fire
Do yer freakin' job!

Grr.
Forwarding ideas

in a room full of men

is so frustrating.
Dexterity defined:

Clasping a bracelet

on your own wrist.
Violence: Okay.

Sex: Bad.

No wonder we're screwed up.
Bored.

Call me?
Guilty pleasures:

I like being Grammarian.
F5 :: questions

1. cubicle farm

2. 1:21 pm CST

3. black jeans, tight shirt,

mono black chucks

4. loud and gross

5. bouldering
It's not Dell, really.

It's just one guy.

"Sunset"

is not a verb.
Hey, wait.

I missed my blog's birthday.

A year of the scraps of paper

of my life...
When it rains,

it pours.

Today is Trouble Ticket Day.
"Readers Theatre"

is half right.
Dude!

I ran Toastmasters elections

in half an hour.

Beat that, baby.

Plus, I'm not president any more.

WOO HOO!
I just received spam

about eliminating spam.

Um...
YES!

I moved

from one hand-hold to the next

in the upside-down part

of the "cave."

Fuck, yeah.
Horrors!

I let an it's/its mistake

go out in an email

to customers.

I am so chagrined.
What do you do,

at 4:40,

when you are *hungry*?

Must be my tape worm.
Ever ridden a motorcycle?

If you don't have

all that fancy gear,

what do you wear?

Aside from a helmet, of course.
Why do we congratulate

winners of door prizes?

It's not like they did anything.
Ya gotta respect that.

Go read the 1/7 post

from Mighty Girl.
8:40

is nothing like

7:00.

Dang it.
Important communication tool

of our time: the mix tape.

Trying to compile one

that says the right things.

Trying to determine

the right things to say.
Predictions for 2003

from Textism.com,

just another example

of the writing

that keeps me coming back.
Suddenly, today,

my workplace is

lousy with small boys.
Assist my creative effort?

What are things that

experiencing once

makes you want more,

other than food?
Last week: Child lost to lukemia.

Last night: Highway sign streams

data on a kidnapped child.

This morning:

Pregnant woman with cigarette.
Spent the day

at McKinney Falls

with a friend.
decide on pants; launder.

charge camera.

return movies.

straighten living room; vacuum.

weather-coat shoes.

shoe-goo?
*gasp*

Meg posts

photos from Scotland.
Oh, wait.

Maybe I do need to sleep.

But then I'd miss out on stuff!
I am on the balcony.

It has reached the hour

when the light is golden

and all the birds take flight.

Hello, New Year. I think I'll like you.
If you call a friend

to ask him to get online,

do you have a problem?
But I like palindromes.