Monthly Archives: July 2003

One Day To The Next

I feel burned out.

A shower makes every­thing go away. I for­get every­thing I’ve learned and gather my thoughts.

It’s rare that I live my life with­out form or struc­ture, but the cur­rent week has been just that. Sleeping, eat­ing, and sleep­ing some more when­ever I feel like it has made the days jum­bled and indis­tin­guish­able. I don’t think I could live like this for long; I’ve always needed some sort of struc­ture in my life. I need to know what time my din­ner is at. I need to know when to wake up. I guess I’ve become a crea­ture of habit, but I’m not sure if that’s a good thing yet.

It Was The Gentle Waves

Access to my con­trol panel, my data­base, and my scripts has been tem­porar­ily dis­abled. Apparently, a rep­re­sen­ta­tive of a musi­cal group has con­tacted my host in regards to an mp3 I have stored. Instead of con­tact­ing me first, the rep­re­sen­ta­tive decided to bring the issue up with my host. I would have been fine with remov­ing the mp3 from my site if I was sim­ply asked. I real­ized that it was a vio­la­tion of my terms of ser­vice, but I didn’t think that any­one ever vis­ited this site, so I had the song for archival pur­poses. Now, I have no way of updat­ing my con­tent, in what has become my main heal­ing medium. I can­not be slowed by this, and even though it feels as though I have no means of expres­sion or com­mu­ni­ca­tion, I still feel the need to write.

The Fly Vacuum

I have a fly vac­uum named Dolores.

For some rea­son, flies have been com­ing into the apart­ment through some mag­i­cal ple­copteran gate­way, the loca­tion of which I haven’t been able to deter­mine yet. Since Dolly is an indoor cat, the flies have been the only live thing that she’s even pounced on, aside from my toes under the covers.

She’s quite an effi­cient fly hunter, able to swat one with­out much trou­ble, although she con­sis­tently lets them get away when she takes an inspec­tion under her paw by lift­ing it up. Once she actu­ally catches one and is able to get her tongue on it, she’ll gob­ble it hap­pily, and then look as if she hadn’t eaten her play­mate. Sometimes the fly will soar to my ceil­ing, and she’ll meow at me with frus­tra­tion, never look­ing away from the buzzing black dot.

Getting Into TFC Again

I’ve decided to take a break from The Frozen Throne because the game has become no fun for me. The only thing that I could really sit down and play for hours with­out sleep or rest was TFC for Half-Life. I woke up rest­less some­time this morn­ing and decided to give TFC another shot, from a two year hia­tus. After join­ing a ran­dom 2Fort server, I sniped for about an hour, and every­thing felt so com­fort­able. Sniping was the only thing from any game that I was ever actu­ally good at, and although I was pretty rusty, I still man­aged a decent kill/death ratio. All the the­ory behind good snip­ing has become sec­ond nature to me, but my untrained hand-eye co-ordination lim­ited my skills con­sid­er­ably. Someone did accuse me of cheat­ing though, so my expe­ri­ence hasn’t com­pletely left me.

I might con­sider set­ting up a ded­i­cated server run­ning 24/7, so that I can join some­thing quickly with a low ping, although such a thing would be a vio­la­tion of the con­tract of my ISP. Running a server would allow me to con­trol exactly what maps I want to play and who I can kick or ban. I also wouldn’t be scared of being kicked myself by peo­ple who think I’m cheating.