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Casey/Male/31-35. Lives in United States/California/San Francisco/The Mission, speaks English and  . Spends 80% of daytime online. Uses a Faster (1M+) connection.
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United States, California, San Francisco, The Mission, English, Spanish, Casey, Male, 31-35.

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Friday, March 14, 2003

'Lo, Bob? You Have Pi?

Happy Pi Day 2003

I am not being irrational! (Not anymore than usual, anyway.) Happy Pi Day 2003!

(And yes, I sat and waited until 1:59:26 to hit the "post" button. Geek, Moi? Perhaps.)

01:59 PM PST (link)

Peace and Grease.

[Looking around, wide-eyed and frightened] It's scary out there, and I'm not just talking about the anti-war protests. I am writing to you from the safety of my office. Please send soup.

Moisturizer is my friend; more importantly, it's my nose's friend. I hate walking around with a red, chapped nose, but if I had to stay home much longer I was going to go cookoo. I shaved off my long, long beard (read: Don Johnson Stubble, at best) and pressed onward, a cup of tea in hand.

I noticed in the shower this morning that, after three days of 8-to-15 hours of sleep each day, the dark circles under my eyes had lightened. Not vanished, just gone from dark royal purple to a medium blue. Sleep and moisturizer, hmm? Next you're going to tell me a balanced diet and exercise will make me feel better too...

(I think, for my health, I will skip the official anti-war protest tomorrow, though I'll be there in spirit.)

01:47 PM PST (link)

Thursday, March 13, 2003

Does A Gun Have The Buddha Nature?

Sounds like Vince and Jhames are having a rough time on their road trip. Now, I'm not one to capitalize on the pain of my blog friends, but maybe just this once.

01:39 AM PST (link)

Tuesday, March 11, 2003

Salt Water, Part Two.

Well, after all that sobbing, my left eye has revolted.

I swear I watched this morning as it ballooned up to a freakishly, frog-like size. OK, maybe that's just my flair for the dramatic. But it is swollen underneath, and feels funny when it opens and closes. It was the topper to make me call in sick to work, executive presentation or not. Last night I awoke with my throat ablaze, only satisfied by a thorough gargle with sharp, lemony salt water to grate against my tender throat tissues. (I take after my mother here too; why water down a hydrogen peroxide gargle when the full strength stuff will work twice as fast? OK, there's the searing pain, true, but that's just how you can tell it's working.)

I did have the foresight to take notes last night after I woke up feverish and had etched my throat with lemon and salt. I'll put a transcript in the "See More" section for posterity. My finest moment. Someday when I lose my mind completely, be sure to bring a tape recorder when you come visit.

So with my eyes swelling shut, my voice changing to a croak, and finding extreme comfort filling my throat with salt water, I wonder...did I just speak to soon about becoming a Deep One?

OK, so my (literally) feverish notes:  (See More)

02:17 PM PST (link)

Salt Water, Part One.

Sunday night we saw an HBO preview of a new movie Normal. It's very good; while there are some small things about it that aren't quite realistic (notably, that transitioning usually takes more than a year from hormones to surgery) it's still an excellent drama and a very sensitive treatment of a MtF transsexual. I only cried once or twice.

Ate with the Boyfriend afterwards; there was no mushy love notes involved, and therefore no tearing up. But a couple glasses of wine at dinner, and I figured what harm could a couple more at home do? Well, sitting with a very full glass in front of iTunes while it picked out heavy emotional number after heavy emotional number, I started to wonder if sombody had it in for me and wanted me to cry. (Though one of the songs was "Summertime"—maybe it was just the wine.)

And yesterday at work, my throat a little sore, I was so frustrated I could...well, you know.

Something in the water, maybe?

01:36 PM PST (link)


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