Blue Eyes Designs

I’ve gotten a few comments about my “first initial” references. I’m doing it to,
as Chris put it, “not feed the google monster” and protect the privacy of my
friends a bit. If you’re curious about who someone is, ask. I’m just
uncomfortable spreading names around the internet.

I hope you understand.

Yay for webservers that DON’T SUCK.

The pictures from the fire are not located at: href="http://techmommy.phealy.com/housefire">http://techmommy.phealy.com/housefi
re.

That is all.

Ten Signs You’ve been in Theatre too long:

• Your weekend consists of Monday and only Monday
• “Q” is not just a letter.
• You can only read from a light that is blue.
• You feel naked without your keys, cellphone, MagLite, Leatherman and Gerber
  on your belt.
• You know tie-line has many uses: shoelaces, belts, ponytail holders….
• You tell more stories of things gone wrong than what went smoothly
• You know anything can be fixed with gaff, a sharpie, hot-glue, tie-line and
  a safety pin

• People recognize you by the sound of your keys jingling down the hallway.
• “Practical” and “flat” are nouns.
• If someone asks you what time it is, you respond with something like, “Half
  hour ’til half hour”

Some of these were blatently stolen, so if you know the original author, please
tell me.

Why won’t he email me????

(I’ve loaned out the keyboard and mouse for a while, so please pardon any
typos…)

I just finished reading Tom Stoppard’s Arcadia and I like it a lot.
I’m going to have to be sure to read it again when I’m not so pressed for time
and can really concentrate on it. I’m particularly fond of the following
passage:

Hannah: What are you
doing? Valentine?
Valentine: The set of points on a
complex plane made by —
Hannah:Is it the grouse?
Valentine: Oh, the grouse. The
damned grouse.
Hannah: You mustn’t give up.
Valentine: Why? Don’t you agree
with Benard?
Hannah: Oh, that. It’s all
trivial — your grouse, my hermit, Benard’s Byron. Comparing what we’re looking
for misses the point. It’s wanting to know that makes us matter. Otherwise we’re
going out the way we came in. That’s why you can’t believe in the afterlife,
Valentine. Believe in the after, by all means, but not the life. Believe in God,
the soul, the sprit, the infinate, believe in the angels if you like, but not in
the great celestial get-together for an exchange of views. If the answers are
in the back of the book I can wait, but what drag. Better to struggle on knowing
the failure is final.

Now I need to finish A Man For All Seasons ; it’s been sitting on my
proverbial nightstand for about three weeks now. Tonight’s as good a night as
any.

It’s come to my attention that Knox can/will give CS credit for learning
programming languages. Even more reason to start learning Perl/Python. Not this
term, though. After discussing it with Betsy, we might do it in the spring.
Could be fun. Should be fun. It’s about time I got off my ass and learned
something useful.