I know, I know, I need to make a real post soon… but this was hilarious.

“Getting something off the internet once it’s been posted is like trying to clean the pee out of a swimming pool.”

They will see us waving from such great Heights,

‘come down now,’ they’ll say.

But everything looks perfect from far away,

‘come down now,’ but we’ll stay…

note to self (the rest of you can ignore):

predefined colorsets. “Somalia Wild Ass”, “The Tall, Loud Type”, “Chicagan Surf”, “Da Kitties”

use a stack to hold, search, and strip tags.

store entry as an html doc

wow…. perl, XHTML, CSS…. the world is all starting to come together…..

I am Jack’s missed oppurtunity.

Ok….. raise your hand if you like rejection!

…. thats what I thought.

Oh dear.

After some thought I suppose I should reword (or at least explain) my entry about my Unix class…

When I say “beneath me” I mean…. I should/could be doing/learning something far more meaningful…

I guess the easiest way to describe it is with an analogy. The homework my Linux teacher gives me is like a teacher giving Chris 500 Algebra problems… or giving Amber 500 vocabulary words and having her write out each one in a sentence. Every week. It’s Asinine.

By the way… Kontact == Superb. Gaim == Better with every release. JuK… well, lets just say this… it took 1736 of my mp3’s and properly ID3 tagged them in 5 minutes, with just one little click. As nice as iTunes is, I’ve yet to find that particular button…

In a tradition harking back to my high school days I’ve bypassed the school’s Internet blockers. Palomar doesn’t want us using AIM on their internet, so I say screw that! and run it from my computer at home through their internet

teehee. I’m so bad.

Is it bad that I look at my homework for my Unix class (taught using Linux) and don’t feel even slightly inclined to do it? I think a lot of it has to do with the fact that I think its – and I know there’s no way of saying this politely, so I’ll just say it – beneath me. I know without a doubt in my mind that I know more about Linux than anyone else in that class, including the teacher. It’s a waste of my time.

I have to go convince myself to do my linux homework now, else I’ll never do it and do poorly in a class I could write

“Who am I? There’s a sign on the front that says ‘Lou’s Tavern’. I’m fuckin’ Lou. Who the fuck are you?”

I had one of my dreams again last night. Maybe I’ve never mentioned it, but I have reoccuring dreams all the time. Maybe once a week if I can remember my dreams it was one I’d had before, or a variation of one I’d had before.

Last night was the Ocean Dream. I started off at a movie theater. We were supposed to be going to see some movie, which I can’t remember right now anyway. A girl I’ve never met in real life was with me. She’s in a lot of my dreams…. I never see her face but I can tell its always her. The problem was we’d forgotten the tickets. The theater was near a beach, so I said I knew a shortcut back home.

And that’s where it repeats. Almost. I take her and we head down toward the shore. We walk along the water for a ways, it feels like a half an hour in my dream until finally we reach the end of the shoreline… from here there’s a huge mountain of rocks in our way…. we can go around, swim around, or try to go over. But I’ve been here before… I know the way through. We start walking along the rocks, until I find a small opening… we squeeze through and find a tunnel, all cold and dark with only bits of sunshine peaking through the rocks. We walk a ways, and I know we’re walking under the beach.

Eventually we get out of the tunnel on the other side of the mountain and we’re at an uninhabited part of the beach. There’s no where to walk here, the rocks come straight up to the water, so we have to walk along the rocks, almost slipping, sometimes going into the water for a bit around some steeper rocks. I have to brush aside small little crabs, and birds and wade through schools of fish, all the while joking with her… she’s never seen the beach like this before, all natural and untainted.

After what feels like hours in my dream, we get past the rocks and into the sand again, and there’s another tunnel, surrounded by trees, like in Torrey Pines, where the trees come almost up to the ocean. We head into the tunnel, which looks like it hasn’t been used in years and climb up and down stairs and ladders and deeper underground. Eventually this small tunnel lets out into a bigger tunnel, where I can feel a draft. I tell her we’re almost home and my point of view alters. I see us kiss, but even from this vantage point I still can’t see her face. We head down the tunnel which leads to a set of stairs leading up to the surface, and we’re home.