And here's the really good part... 1999
Cleaning out my mailboxes.
A message I sent in May 1998 with the subject " Why I love my mother...part 27 million...":
Okay, so it's just a note about this and that, just a "hi, how are you?" message, but listen to this woman write:
"The rain that started at midafternoon yesterday continued all night - with some big gusts of wind now & then. I woke to a scene like any winter morning, the sky grey, trees gently tossing branches in the wind in a sort of fools' dance, and the ocean iron-grey with white-caps running as if something was chasing them north."
Aahhhh...instant mental vacation to Edgewood.
And here's this concept (again courtesy of my mother):
Think of 8-track recording. This is the other track. The one that runs in the back of your head. The one which, when you stop to listen to it, is usually playing something highly topical.
Apropos of nothing, I will mention that many people misuse i.e. and say it when they mean e.g. Here's one way to remember the difference:
e.g.= exempli gratia, for example; E=Example
i.e.= id est, that is; I=In particular
Here are some good things to remember.
Remember*I'll add to this list; for the moment it's just some favorites from Adair Lara. [But I never did get around to adding more than the one thing Lisa sent me, so rather than setting up a separate page as they were in the old site, I decided to just quote them here when migrating to Typepad in January 2004]
Do things you don't want to do, then remember to pat yourself on the back, maybe even buy yourself a little present, a packet of bubble bath or a Miata.
Never hate anybody you've loved.
Live outside the lines.
Never go to the movies on Friday night and expect to be able to go right in.
It pays to be sensitive to the needs of the IRS.
Never leave a place where you are having a good time to go somewhere else where you only think you'll have a better time.
Shop like a Marine: Buy a few good clothes, and wear them all the time.
If you said you would bring the birthday cake, bring the birthday cake. Do what you say you are going to do. Be the sort of person of whom people say, ``Oh, I asked Shirley. She said she would, she always does what she says she'll do.'
Don't buy white linoleum, unless you want to spend the next 20 years mopping the kitchen floor.
Read seriously. Keep a list of the books you've read, starting now.
To shy types, the kind I was: Get over yourself. Nobody is watching you.
Go to parties and resolve to speak to the first person wearing yellow. Tell the man in the green jacket that you think he's the most handsome man in the room.
Buy old furniture and new computer equipment.
Drive the speed limit.
Don't hurt people.
Figure out where you want to live, and go live there -- everything else will fall into place later.
Pay your credit card bills in full the day they arrive.
When you get stuck, just do the next thing.
Take plenty of days off.
Get a pet. You can make jokes about them, and they don't even know what you're saying.
*from Adair Lara "Survival Guide For New Grads"
If I Had My Life to Live Over*
I'd dare to make more mistakes next time.
I'd relax. I would limber up.
I would be sillier than I have been this trip.
I would take fewer things seriously.
I would take more chances.
I would take more trips.
I would climb more mountains and swim more rivers.
I would eat more ice cream and less beans.
I would perhaps have more actual troubles but I'd have fewer imaginary ones.
You see, I'm one of those people who live sensibly and sanely hour after hour, day after day.
Oh, I've had my moments and if I had it to do over again, I'd have more of them. In fact, I'd try to have nothing else. Just moments. One after another, instead of living so many years ahead of each day.
I've been one of those people who never go anywhere without a thermometer, a hot water bottle, a raincoat and a parachute.
If I had my life to live over, I would start barefoot earlier in the spring and stay that way later in the fall.
If I had it to do again, I would travel lighter next time.
I would go to more dances.
I would ride more merry-go-rounds.
I would pick more daisies.
*by Nadine Stair (age 85) from Condensed Chicken Soup for the Soul
Copyright 1996 by Jack Canfield, Mark Victor Hansen & Patty Hansen
Thanks for sending me this, Lisa.
Oh, and Everybody Dies.
8bit 11khz WAV format [As of January 2004, I think this file might be dead. Let me know in the comments if it doesn't work for you and you can't listen to the Real Audio one]
Real Audio format
(Thanks, Jason & Seth. It always warms my heart.)
Distracted by new job & teaching 1999
I neglected this journal again. Tsk tsk.
I am now working with International SoftDevices. Monday, we begin a project management contract with HP's e-services group. I'm excited about the work though it will be hard.
Only 5 more sessions left of my class. As much as I'm enjoying it, with all the other things going on in my life it will be good to get done. Grading web sites is slow work.
Weather in Sunnyvale is good, but the smog is terrible and terrifying. It's time for humans to move on from fossil fuels. This particular human is still driving her car, of course, but next year when the lease is up I'll be checking out the alternative fuel choices.
Oh, if you haven't seen the Southpark movie yet, I'll warn you: it's vulgar, irreverent and crass.
I laughed my ass off through the whole damn thing.