Everything I've written in this journal is so weird. You can't call it lies, but you can't really call it truth either. The beautiful thing, though, is that it just doesn't matter at all. I went to work today; I was nice to the security guards; I thought about old friends; I took a really long smoke break.

I acted like a real person today. It was pretty cool. Misanthropy is really for the birds.

I don't see myself posting in this journal anymore. It's an archive of something that doesn't really exist--like a weird novel that's hard to read, and compelling to me only because I have so much invested in the protagonist. Maybe I'll keep up with it, but I don't know.

Thanks for listening to me when I had something to say. I love you guys.

Just in case you're one of the... vast majority of friends and family that haven't heard from me in the last year or so... well, I'm not dead or anything like that.

An old problem reared its ugly head and I had to sort it out. I'm doing a lot better now. I won't bore anyone with a bunch of emo garbage, but I'm feeling a little bad about being absent from everyone for so long.

Things are a lot better now.

I hope everyone's doing OK as well. I'll try and catch up when I can.

I bought one of these on Saturday. I'm pretty jazzed. As much as I loved the old one, the new bird has got real pizzaz

December 1st was my 5th anniversary with the company I work for, so today I received a link to an online catalog from which I may choose my very own gift. Goodie.

Anyway, I've managed to narrow it down to a few choices, but I'm looking for some feedback.

( And the choices are... )

I'm actually a little shocked that I sat down this early in the year to start preparing for the JLPT. Granted, taking level two seems to be similar in difficulty to following a post-stroke Heinlein novel, but I never get a year's headstart on anything. Anyway, I am about half way through marking up a vocabulary list for the test.

I'm working from Thierry Bezecourt's list, and adding translations. I might make it publicly available when I'm done, in case anyone wants 100+ pages of random Japanese words... You know, just to read on the train.

Well, it's over and done with now. Actually, considering how sure I was that the test would be insane and that I would fail so miserably that the proctors would have to drag me, sniveling and whimpering, from the examination room... it wasn't that bad. There were times when I was lost, but for the most part I felt pretty confident. I think I'll probably only fail by a few points.

I went with some folks from the Japan Club. I think that made things a bit easier. It's hard to take something too seriously only a few hours after discussing Mystical Monkey Powers over a plate of bacon and eggs.

I will take level 2 next year, and I will definitely pass.

"A group known as the League of Human Dignity helped arrange for Deuel to be driven to a local livestock scale, where he could be weighed."

Link: http://abcnews.go.com/wire/US/ap20040810_654.html

I highly recommend you check out this promotional video from our friends at the Japanese Maritime Self Defense Force.

Since the SDF is not permitted to broadcast promotional messages (recruitment stuff) on television or radio, this video was produced for and displayed on big-screens back in March (the JMSDF website mentions a screen near the station in Shibuya, which is in Tokyo).

I got this link courtesy of Mike Rogers who writes a column over at LewRockwell.com.

( Space-Age Gunslinging Geriatric Bungee-Jumping Ninja Monkeys FROM KANSAS! )

Coming soon to a journal near you...

A penny for anyone that knows why this makes me so damned happy.

Also, sakura matsuri is a damned good time, even if there is limited fwag.

From winamp, first ten random shuffle songs. (from kyrielle)

1. Sigur Rós - Áegis Byrjun
2. Pink Floyd - Vera
3. Colin Hay - Overkill (acoustic)
4. Evanescence - My Immortal
5. Leroy - Good Time
6. Dandy Worhols - Bohemian Like You
7. Skindred - set it off
8. Lazlo Bane - Hold Me
9. Excel Girls - 愛 (Love)
10. Rondellus - Architectus Urbis Caelestis

To save a few bucks on air-fare, I'm doing the Saturday stay-over thing for my February trip to Boston. So, what the heck do I do with a free day?

I went in to the doctor yesterday complaining of pain in my left jaw. It seems that there maybe something in my left submandibular salivary gland, probably a stone. The pain is bad, but the diziness is so much worse. I can't concentrate on anything for more than a few minutes, and with a calculus exam tomorrow, it's obvious I have a problem.

Yay.

I'm having a hard time coming to grips with this past week. Other than the usual week-before-finals insanity at school (aside: if I ever mention taking an 18-credit course load again, please someone rip out my fingernails), everything was so blissfully unremarkable. As a general rule, I love to dwell in the squishy deep of paranoia as much as anyone, but after the last five days I'm starting to feel like the last twinkie at 7-11 just after a NOFX concert lets out.

First there was the earthquake. Yes, it was a tiny little burp in the grand scheme of geological flatulence, but this is Virginia. Earthquakes may be just a peach for folks out on the west with their temperate winters and their short pants and their garden burgers, but this is the South. Here, a typical breakfast contains fourteen pounds of pork-products, three eggs, a pound of cheese, and every conceivable grain served up in gritted, hashed-browned, pancaked glory. This place does not need to shake.

Earlier that day, I reflected on the fact that I am usually compulsive about making backup copies of my school work. I reflected on this fact as thick black smoke billowed from my laptop. I think I could actually read my history term paper in the little floating wisps. Twenty pages of fact-checked, source-quoted, half-inch-margined discourse on the politics of 16th century Moscow cried out in terror, and were suddenly silenced.

Miraculously, the next morning my professor granted me a one-week extension, on the condition that my paper be of sufficient quality that he might "put [his] name on it, publish it, and take all the credit." Just a bit later, I managed to turn in a solid performance on a math exam. I should have known my fortunes were about to run short, though.

That evening, one of the servers I maintain decided it would much prefer to live out its days as a toaster, or perhaps a Garden Weasel. It registered its protest against its lot in life by patently refusing to do anything computer-like. I managed to beat it in to submission eventually, but (horror of horrors) could find nothing that might even remotely clue me in to why it happened. I don't know why I didn't make something up, though, since I now must reside in the purgatory of running traces and debug captures until someone decides its hopeless. Management doesn't believe in Cosmic Rays.

That brings us to Thursday. Did you know that President Bush was going to speak to the press at the McLean Hilton Thursday? I sure didn't. Of course, since the building I work in is well within spit-ball distance of the hotel, that knowledge might have prompted me to the wiser course of fleeing someplace north of the Arctic Circle. The flashing lights alone were enough to induce spontaneous epilepsy. Add to that the pleasure-- no, the bliss-- of sitting on a closed road for the better part of an hour while The Leader Of The Free World And Three Time All Crawford Dead Or Alive Xtreme Beach Volleyball Cham-peen is whisked past in his armored limo (with leather!), and you start thinking a seizure might be a good way to break up the monotony.

Last night, we made an attempt at assembling some of the furniture that we just ordered. You know, you can bend steel with just a bolt and an allen wrench.

Hey, I'd never been in an earthquake before. That was pretty nifty.

Commincations were severed at 14:00 hours. Aleph had just reported engaging the enemy (a huge wasp) that had breached the northern cordon of the compound. She also reported, just before communications were lost, that she was running severely low on ammunition (Raid Wasp & Hornet Spray).

For now, we can only hope that fortune smiles on our brave soldier as she struggles against the Sphecidaen menace.

The news reports "a mortar shell hit a market" in Iraq. Now you see, that's the problem with mortar shells. You never know when they'll get it in their little metal heads to up and destroy a market. There should be a law.

In other news, cigarette ashes are dancing little whirlwinds in the parking lot. Thus, the world is beautiful.

I hurt myself.

Sleeping.

Like, "cervical collar and massive doses of muscle relaxants and talk about an MRI" hurt myself.

Sleeping.

僕はとてもでれっとだ。今日は腕試しだよ。間もなく無料の刺身を受け取る。それ はttyp0を嬉しいにさせる。ttyp0は刺身が大好きだよ！僕は進むと思う。