April 22nd, 2001


ghosts, storms, dad, claire.

I'm sitting down to watch Totoro (and sheesh, I'm almost 30 minutes in already! Miyazaki is a master.) and the number of things I want to mention is skyrocketing.

One plotline that seems to be developing is those myths we tell little kids. Where does dust come from? It comes from little critters that wander around in the house while you're gone. Except - it *does*. In Totoro, at least. The creatures wander around the house, and the parents don't see them or think they're real. And yet, they saw them, when they were kids, and they *say* so - but they just dismiss it as what they thought as kids. Even though they're real.

The dad seems a bit different. He seems to believe in the possibility. More on the dad soon. (No, the "dad' in the subject does not refer to mine.)

Another scene - a big storm, the entire house rattling. Now there's something I miss. They don't happen often in Seattle, but they do happen occasionally. And they just don't happen here. Not a cold rainstorm, and the dorm doesn't make any noises. It squats and endures. It's boring.

The thing about being inside during a storm is you know you're safe. It's one of those Ultimate Triumphs over Nature. We can be inside, and warm, and outside there's water moving horizontally without anything but air underneath it. A nice big rainstorm. I miss those.

The dad seems to be a great guy so far. He's what I'd want to be.

No, that's inaccurate. He's what I *do* want to be . . .

Maybe his life isn't spectacular, but he enjoys life. He has a nice house out in the middle of nowhere, he's got two kids (both girls), he's got a wife with a comfortable relationship, he's got a laid-back relaxed mom . . .

and how much of that seems to be even remotely likely anytime in my life?

the disadvantage to being a tech: you need to be near electricity to make money.

(Although maybe, if I have enough at some point, I'll just take a year or two off and go live in the woods . . . no, I'm not an obsessed tech. I'm just good at it.)

I suppose I could write something about Claire. But she knows how I feel. And everyone who knows me around here knows how I feel. And . . . putting it down on bytes would trivialize it somehow. So I won't.
  • Current Music
    back to totoro.

today's entry is brought to you by the letter n | comics nobody will understand | life sucks

bah. I had an entry in mind, and I wrote the subject, and realized I was really sleepy, and decided to nap for a few hours until Sarah's potatoes, and accidentally overslept. I'm really sorry, Sarah :( I would have loved to be there, it's just . . . murphy seems to have it in for me.

Now, I'm not really in the mood to write it . . . maybe some other time. I'll link the comics though.

  • Current Mood

people who should not be allowed to use computers, part 1

well, some people may have known that my mom has been getting help from me on computer stuff - her C++ class and her Linux class. Well, her latest assignment that she asked for help on includes the instructions at the beginning, which I reprint the relevant part of in case that link dies in the future:
E-mail the completed quiz to wsmith on this computer. Only e-mail to that address will be accepted; no other e-mail, and no hard-copy.
Okay, now *most* people reading this journal are probably computer-savvy enough to realize that this means that you should E-MAIL the quiz, right? Well, my mom came on asking for help with FTP (File Transfer Protocol, which is pretty much what it sounds like). After a few minutes of confusion with her talking about FTP directions I finally asked the illuminating question "what do you mean, FTP directions?" at which point it was revealed that she had somehow taken that phrase and the remark I'd made a month ago that you couldn't e-mail to that server from an external source and put them together and decided she needed to FTP it.

My comment: "and if he says 'e-mail', it seems pretty obvious that he means for you to e-mail it :P"

perhaps that was a little too far, because she got angry and logged off. Faugh. Rule one of using computers: READ WHAT THEY SAY. And chances are that if you're not good enough to know when that rule doesn't apply, you won't know how to deal with doing stuff on your own anyway.


(And it is true that, according to the spec and email systems, you can't e-mail to an IP. you *have* to have a registered domain, because the email destination information is stored in the same place as the domain name information.)

Ah, she just logged on again: "maybe you could avoid telling me the obvious."
"this is probably a mistake, but I just *have* to point this out - if it's so obvious, how come you didn't notice it?"

this will be fun, for sufficiently wrong definitions of "fun" :/
  • Current Mood
    frustrated frustrated