September, 2002:

I teach someone something about French: “Déjà Vu is French for ‘Already Seen’ and Jamais Vu is French for ‘Never Seen’, if you didn’t know that already.”

Matt is bald as of yesterday. I think it looks good.

Our bank account is overdrawn by $268. I thought I had worked all of this out to make sure I had the monkey for all the things I was paying, but I guess I didn’t. Maybe I forgot to account for the $300 insurance payment that was deducted on the 11th.

There is actually a two-page O’Reilly book entitled True in a nutshell. Do people really need this? Who has actually bought a copy of this? Why? [update: as Josh pointed out, this book doesn't actually exist. It is merely a joke.]

French Pronunciation: “If you follow the guidelines given [...] and still find it difficult to affect a French accent, try the following rules of thumb: 1) Keep stress even within the word. French is much more lightly accented than English. 2) Act as if you own the world.”

Some useful French phrases: “‘Stop Bothering me!’ ‘Parle à mon cul, ma tête est malade’ (parl a mon cul, ma teht eh ma – lahd.” This actually doesn’t translate to “Stop bothering me” but instead to “Talk to my ass, my head is sick”.

Calling all Y’alls: “One Texan added that there ‘ain’t no sense in wasting the energy making up two differ’nt words, is there?’”

snowdrop is an application (for Unixes) that embeds a watermark into a standard, plain text document. It does this by changing whitespace, altering punctuation, and replacing some words with other words (based on a dictionary provided by the user). I played with it a little bit and found it to be very interesting. The concept, alone, is incredibly fascinating.

Liquid War is a very unique computer game (for Linux, Windows, and DOS). You are a puddle of water. Your goal is to eat all the water that is a different color than you. Single player mode is fun, but easy, after a while, as the computer isn’t that smart. It also features network play, which I have only played twice. If anyone installs this and enjoys it, let me know and maybe we can meet up for a few rounds.

By (ab)using LD_PRELOAD, TransConnet (for Linux) is capable of proxying almost any network aware application thought an HTTP proxy that support the CONNECT feature. I cannot be held responsible for any holes you poke in your corporate network with the use of this application.

With Jess’ help, I’ve been trying to learn French over the past few days. For someone with Language skills very unused to the phonetics used in French, this is a somewhat daunting task. I’ve spent, at most, two hours attempting to learn. Here are some of my findings to date. Please keep in mind that I am presenting this information without consulting Jess and, therefore, many corrections may be required.

The first lesson I mastered has the following moral: French is fucked. Now English can be fairly daunting for someone who does not claim it as their mother tongue, however, French seems to be complicated for complexity’s sake. For instance, French the written language and French the spoken language are two entirely different animals. In some cases, 50% or more of a word will contain letters that are silent, or are only pronounced when before another word beginning with a vowel. This is known as a liaison.

The information bandwidth of written French is much higher than that of spoken French. Take, for example, the following words: vert (green), vers (toward), verre (glass), ver (worm), and vair (squirrel fur). All of these words are pronounced exactly the same, which sounds something like the “vi” in “vice” coupled with a “er” from “her” cut abruptly short.

I began by learning some easy basics: animals, various nouns, and colors. The “eu” sound from bleu has given me a lot of trouble. Even listening to Jess say it over and over again, I was unable to duplicate it. I believe I’ve come reasonably close by producing a shortened version of the “er” in “her”. If you’re following along at home, don’t actually pronounce the “r”. Instead, lie to yourself. Tell yourself to pronounce it, and then, just as your lips and throat are about to make that last consonant ring into existence, karate chop yourself in the throat.

Some words are very difficult for me to pronounce. Some of the current bastards are bleu, brun, fenêtre, and cantaloupe. I think the four years of Spanish (read: the easiest language in the world) I have are confusing me, as all of my French sounds as though it is being produced by Tito Puente. [update: or as a gay British man, according to Jess]

In order to give you an introduction to the vast array of French words and phrases I am capable of, I offer you an abbreviated list as taught to me by Jess:

• I want some delicious kisses. Je veux de baisers délicieux.
• I’m sorry. Je suis un dick face.
• The brown cantaloupe walked. Le cantaloupe brun a marché.

Additionally I learned that when stating that you’ve walked the dog (J’ai marché le chien) you must be very careful to pronounce the last sound of chien (dog) very accurately. Being even the slightest bit lazy will result in a word sounding more like chier, which would be a very poor way of saying that you have to take a shit.

Stay tuned, more lessons will follow.

After unpacking the four boxes of things I had decided to keep from my old office, and rearranging my cubicle for the fifth time, I was running out of things to do. Each cubicle has a plastic sleeve attached to the outside of it that has your cubicle number printed on the outside of it. I decided I would print a small sheet of paper to slide into this sleeve that would proudly display my name, phone number, and email address. This is nothing novel; that’s what the sleeves are for.

I’d like to say that I am an expert when it comes to design, but the truth is, I’m really not. I just used a big font for my name, because I’m egotistical that way, and a smaller font for my phone number and email address and arranged it so my name was on top of the other two. Nothing extraordinary. Well… nothing extraordinary for a brain with the capacity of mine.

I decided I should make one for the two employees I have in this building as well. So I did. I also made a bigger name plate to go in the bigger name plate sleeve in the aisle that informs passers-by exactly who it is that sits in the seats down that aisle. Again, nothing extraordinary.

I have been at work for, at most, one hour since that time. I have been asked three times, but three different people if I could make a name plate like that for them. Additionally, the secretary for our department asked me if I still had the template (template? what template? I just drew it up real quick in the Gimp) for it so that she could make them for our whole group.

Huh? It’s just a stupid name plate.

Roaches: 0
Daniel and Jess: 1

One year ago today, aside from mentioning an attempt to give blood, I didn’t say much about anything. I had missed my alarm clock and was laying asleep in bed when Justin called me to tell me that two planes had run into the Twin Towers in New York City. It wasn’t that I didn’t feel, or that I didn’t care. I was disgusted by the media, and, in many ways, ashamed to be an American. It wasn’t until the next day that I really said anything.

I was disgusted at the way American’s were lashing out at the Muslim members of our nation because they were afraid and ignorant. I couldn’t stand that every convenience store on every little corner in every little town had a stack of American Flag stickers for sale for $1. It saddened me that I actually felt the need to go into a private conference room with my two Pakistani employees and ask that they be careful going home and coming to work, and to stay undercover for a little while and to call me if they needed anything at all. I hated feeling so much hatred in America.

Someone stapled a paper American Flag to the outside of my cube wall on that day. I didn’t put it there, and I haven’t taken it down.

I admire the heroism of the fire fighters and police men who put in many long hard hours trying to save human lives. But I admire them for the heroic things they do everyday. I am sadden by the loss of human life, as much blood was shed on that day and the days to follow. But I am saddened by the pointless loss of human life, regardless of when it occurs or in what numbers. I admire the patriotism in the faces of the American people. But that patriotism has since faded, the flags that wave from our car antennas are tattered and torn, and the stickers that were plastered on our windshields have begun fading and peeling away.

On this day, one year ago, I was shocked. I was scared. I was worried. I was horrified. I was saddened. I felt a need to be close to my family and friends just as I’m sure many other Americans (and non-Americans) did on that day. This event was tragic; that’s obvious. If a pilot had accidentally steered a plane into a building causing it’s destruction and the collapse of that building and the death of thousands of people, the event would have been tragic, this is true. But our nation would not have been affected as it was. What made this event so horrible, was the fear and vulnerability that it placed in the hearts and minds of the American people. The uncertainty regarding our security that found its way into our thoughts in those days and weeks and months following this day.

Yes, lives were lost. Yes, prominent features of our nation’s face were destroyed. And these are sad things. But, in reality, many, many other things have occurred throughout the history of America and the world that deserve equal respect, and thoughtfulness. Yet these dates never receive such reflection because they are no longer fresh on the minds of a nation with our attention span.

If you feel you must be reflective today, then I suggest other reasons for reflection. Think of your loved ones. Think of those people that you really care about, and yet haven’t had a chance to see in a while. Think of that friend that you’ve been fighting with for two years over something silly and stupid, because both of you have been too proud to say “I’m sorry”. Think of the pack of gum you stole from the corner store last week thinking that it’s only one pack and isn’t that big of a deal. Think about your mother, whom you may not have spoken to in several months. Think about your girlfriends, boyfriends, husbands and wives. Think about friends and family that have passed away, regardless of the reason. Think about love and friendship. Think about togetherness. Call up an old friend. Go out for coffee. Talk to a stranger.

Mourn the loss of human life. Mourn the loss of the men and women who fought the fires and cleared the rubble. Mourn the loss of soldiers who fought, and still fight, in the events that followed this day. And then remember that we have much to be thankful for.

If you’ve learned ANYTHING from these past 365 days, it should be that life, friendships, and love are precious things that should never, ever be taken for granted.

It’s been a crazy few days.

Jess got here, safe and sound, on Saturday. I won’t bore you with an account of all the things that we did, I’ll just give you a brief rundown: had sammiches for lunch; saw Brad and Morgan; got coffee in Deep Ellum; went to a few tattoo shops; went through Greenville and Lakewood; went to Celestial Park; went to Texadelphia for Lunch; drove around Keller; went to my parents house and had a small welcome-to-Texas party for Jess; had coffee with Brad, Morgan, Zoe, Joel and Emily; had TGI Friday’s for lunch; went to Target, Old Navy, and Half-Priced Books; went grocery shopping; made shrimp and pasta for dinner; had Macaroni and Cheese for lunch; went to Sundance Square; went to Barnes and Noble; went to the Stockyards; went to the Fort Worth Botanical Gardens; made breakfast for dinner; rented Mallrats; made cookies and popcorn and watched the movie with Brad, Morgan, and Zoe; went for a walk by the canal; laid on the ground and looked at the stars by the mustangs.

Needless to say, I’ve had an amazing time, and, even after just four days, I am finding it harder and harder to imagine how it was that I lived before she was here. Right now, as I type these very words, she’s at home, asleep in our bed. This morning, in between getting ready for work, I laid beside her in bed and watched her chest rise and fall under the blankets of our bed as she slept. And, before I left for work, I woke her to steal a few kisses to hopefully last me until lunch time.

I’m going home for lunch, and then back to work until 5pm. I’m not quite sure how I’m going to make it all day knowing that, less than a mile down the road, there is a beautiful and amazing woman with lips and kisses that belong to only me.

Her flight gets here in a little over an hour. I’ve been pacing around the house doing little tiny stupid things trying to keep myself occupied until she gets here. I haven’t eaten all morning, because I don’t want to mess up the kitchen. Now that I’m sitting here waiting another 15 minutes before I leave, I realize there are lots of other things I could have done around the house. I’m also starting to realize that it really doesn’t matter. We’re going to be together and that’s what’s important.

Not talkin’ ’bout a year
No not three or four
I don’t want that kind of forever
In my life anymore
Forever always seems
to be around when it begins
but forever never seems
to be around when it ends

Like a handless clock with numbers
An infinite of time
No not the forever found
Only in the mind
So give me your forever
Please your forever
Not a day less will do
From you

– Ben Harper / Forever

So I’ll go put some gas in the truck, and then head out to the airport and wait, just in case her plane is early.

I know I’ve said this a million times before, and I’m sure saying it once again probably doesn’t mean all that much. But I don’t want there to ever be a doubt in your mind that it isn’t so, so I’ll keep saying it until the day that I die: Jess, I love you. Like Crazy.

She’s in Columbus, OH. She’ll be here in just over 3 hours.

Somehow, I’ve managed to find a million little nitpicky things that I “need” to do this morning in order to get everything ready for her. So, needless to say, I’m not dressed or showered.

One thing I am good at is running out of time.

She’ll be here in less than 12 hours.

I’m starting to get nervous again.

She missed her flight. There was confusion with the terminal, and where she was supposed to be, and she didn’t get to the ticket counter until 1hr before her flight was to leave. The girl at the counter was rude to her. Asked her why she was crying, and when she said, “because I missed my flight,” the girl said, “well, could you please stop”.

Two of her friends brought her to the airport and, thankfully, one of them has a cousin that lives in Toronto. They will spend the night at her cousin’s house and she will take the next flight out tomorrow, which leaves at 10:10am and gets here at 2:15pm.

She’s very upset, and very sad, and I wish I could make her feel better, but I can’t.