| [ |
mood |
| |
sore neck |
] |
| [ |
music |
| |
beep beep beep |
] |
alright kids,
seeing as it is the first day I have internet in my place, it will be the first day of my daily entries into this, my webjournal; a paperless solution to my desire to keep a daily record, so as to help my poor memory catch up with itself. the deal is, that I'm going to record what I did and thought that day, every day. sound boring? it is. sound indescrete? kind of. but no one will read this, after all... the safest place to hide anything is in plain site, and the person who gets ignored the most often speaks the loudest. on the internet, that would be ol' maddox. not me. but still. if you're bored, stop reading. I don't care.
what's new? yeah, well, last night i went to see the matrix. was it good? well, it was very cool looking. here's a summary of it... and it probably won't hurt anyone to read it. 1) forget everything SAID in the 2nd matrix. so far as I can tell, the purpose of the 2nd movie, was to demonstrate the borders of the abilities of the programs inside the matrix. in the first movie, the programs are like gods... in the second movie, they seem more like tired civil servants, and by the third movie... well, turns out that no one really is really solid, and thus, everything can be negotiated. 2) relatively early in the movie, Neo gets his eyes poked out or something. the purpose of this is so that he can wear a headband over his eyes for most of the rest of the movie, so that we can't tell that he CAN'T act. If you cover his wooden eyes, you can't tell he can't portray emotion. So you subconsciously blame the blindfold. when consciously you are blaming keanu's acting.
so at the end of the movie, the nerds went "yaay!" and the cynical uber-nerds went "Boo!" (because of their social position, they are allowed to pass judgement over everything). yours truely, in typical fashion shouted out "SOMETHING!"... just cuz... yeah. something had to be said. but not necessarily anything. understand? that is the koan of ben.
so onto today....
___________________________________________________________-
I woke up with the urgent desire to go back to sleep. and so I did. and after a little of this and a little of that I decided that I didn't want to go for a run today, and that I wanted to eat breakfast at timhortons. now, I promissed melissa upstairs last night (she seemed buisy at the time, dressed up in a sequined tank top or something, so I asked her when the best time would be to do this....) that I'd be upstairs at like, 10:00 to do this internet thing. so I was. I wore my ultraman shirt, just because. This shirt would be cool if it was black, like the internet ad said it was. but it itsn't. it's white. and what am I going to do about it? return it? to australia? no. I'll just learn my lesson. so i wore my ultraman shirt, and my zipper hoodie. and my jeans. I was thinking sweatpants, but then I decided on jeans so that I could bring my wallet and go to tim hortons.
it was bright outside. bright that said "cold", and indeed it was. there was wind, and it cut through. I knocked at the door. no one home. so I stashed my laptop on the top step of my place, locked the door, and went for a little "T & H" action if you know what I mean. as I passed the vetran's old folks home, I lamented my inability at purchasing a poppy the night before. pooks to that, I had no change.
i decided to order a chili in a breadbowl, and a large doubledouble, and also a chocolate glazed doughnut. the guy at the counter, the one who looks like triple-h (the wrestler... well, kind of. he's not very big. ) said to me "would you believe me if I said this wasn' t a rip off?". I didn't know how to react, in that... 1) I didn't really know how much it cost, 2) it always seemed like a pretty good deal in vancouver, 3) did his question mean that I was or was not to trust him? upon assesment of the situation, it was obvious what he was talking about. i watched him fill the breadbowl, and though there is a great deal of volume within the crust of the mighty bowl of bread, it's filled mostly with air, as they tim people only make the slightest inscision, and then don't compress the bread down before filling it with chili. In retrospect, I guess it's not a very good deal. but I got to eat the bowl. that guy never talks to me, anyway... why shouldn't I trust him? he's from novascotia, where he also worked in a tim hortons.
i always try to sit with my back to a wall in these places, as close to a corner as I can. i don't know why. I guess it comes down to my wanting to watch what happens. when i'm not socializing, I'm gathering information, and I don't think I've ever felt very comfortable surrounded by strangers. If I'm not interacting to control them, I fear them. I wonder at what age i became an outsider... I wonder If I'll ever change. honesty is the first step to washing it all away. I will attain buddahood on my own, I am sure. the decrepit man with a sharply shaved goatee behind me on my left starts talking to himself and laughing. I've finished eating, and I'm drinking my coffee and I decide to run away.
did I mention that I bought a poppy from tim horton's? yeah, they got these ones with black centers now. they scare me. they're too morbid. ha. last night, in the movie, the theater was so packed I had to sit next to a teenager who was telling his friends about the "poppy puppy" or something, toy dog covered in poppies. the purpose is to raise awareness in kids about rememberance day, and the kid next to me was talking about how it was disgracefull and disrespectful to the vetrans. Well. the kid probably doesn't know what it's like to have a regret... a little nicotine stain on your soul... let alone what it's like to join up with all your friends in the service of king and country; and then to have everyone die, and come back with a scared up soul. I can turn over the cushions on my soul-couch, and hide the stains from myself. everyone can. and does. imagine having a corpse on it. blegh.
i remember telling my dad that the reason the americans are war hawks is because they never had to serve as british troops. Only when your place in the world is spelled out to you by poor policy and artilery do you truely realize the horrors of war. I guess the thing about rememberence day is that It gets me to rememberin'.
So, where was I? with a coffee in my hand walking back home. I cut through the toyota dealership... it's shorter that way... I wondered if I'd ever need an aliby, should the dealership start questioning my pathmaking skills. "I'm looking for an SUV that's got good gas mile-age" I dunno. "It's pretty, the clear morning, and the glistening light off of fresh chrome and paint. who are you to keep me from such delights as this?" no... I'd shrug and run.
I got back and decided to walk up the creaky wood steps and give mellissa another go. she was home. I explained. it dawned on her that she was actually a critical step in this process. I got my laptop, and went in. We hooked it all up, the wireless modem, and the whole nine yards. wireless router, sorry.
It didn't work.
that is, melissa didn't have the phone lines to hook it all up. I hooked the rest up, and sent her to canadian tire, and went down to my room to see If i could finish setting it up. indeed, I could log onto the router, and tweak little things here and there. knock knock. it was melissa. she left her wallet at her parents place, half an hour out of town. I lent her money. I know where she lives. if she doesn't give it back, I'll take the phone chords when I take the router. next place I go, I'll get a real phone line... cell phones be damned.
she came back shortly after, and we fatefully plugged it all into the wall. then I rewired what she'd wired. she'd plugged one of the filters into the line from the wall into the modem, and the other into the computer's modem. I sorted it out. aaaannnndddd. it didn't work. nope. so I phoned the place. internet kingston. we fixed it... special ppp something network. Melissa had to do work, so I went back to my basement to finish marking. all those labs. Internet still dind't work. so I phoned kingston internet up again, and the problem was on their end. then i had internet. then I tweaked the internet more. see, my MSN messenger (and i cq to varying degrees) keeps shutting off. every 10 minutes.
so this was about 1:00.
i plugged my computer into one of the itunes radio stations, playing old style radio dramas. it was fun. and I marked. and surfed intermitantly. now i can't send email! damn, I can get email, just not send it.
mark mark mark, surf surf surf, tweak tweak tweak.
It's cold on the floor and my bed. ironically, the air from my open window flows straight to the floor. so high up near the 3rd shelves of my room, there's lots of hot air. I moved the space heater to sit next to me, on the (cleared off ) sock shelf, level to the bed.
I kind of tracked down what the problem... well, a potential fix, that is, to the internet problem... only it didn't fix it. and then I finished marking, and then I ate cereal. I need to was my dishes. i'll do that before going to sleep.
then I... well... i dunno, I just kind of surfed and tried to fix this damn problem by tweaking here and there. and then, my internet died. I think melissa unplugged it. for the phone maybe? she doesn't laugh at my jokes. not even my best pirate joke. she's a friendly girl, but she's a damn clam - I can't get any emotion out of her... she's the key to getting to know the firegirl. so anyway, that was my day. it started out full of detail, and ended with a lot of checked email. it'll be frustrating if I can't get this damn thing working. I'll try phoning the linksys people tomorrow, and they'll help me out, I wager. and hopefully restarting to damn factory specifications will let me do something abou that.. email. I was able to send 1 email early this afternoon, and none since.
It could be a problem with the astro computer, of course. the ubc computers were always going down, and getting hacked on the weekends. that map sure was hella tough when it came to computers. glad I don't have that kind of job. takes strategy and wisdom. you gotta know where to move next 2 moves ahead.
well, that's it.
tomorrow I will do laundry, fix my internet, go for a run, do p... no I'll do my pushups tonight right after the dishes. but I'll do iaido, and then i'll get tat paper out of the library, get groceries (I'm eating more than fried fish this coming week) and then write up that problem set all nice.
|
