(warning: particularly old content) I don't ask for it to make sense RSS feed


I was able to think of twelve in under a minute. Twelve, all with similar things to say, in the last five years. What is it (oh wait, thirteen) about me? I don't think I can count the number of people who have ever said "Jen, you're too nice." I don't want to think that I'm too nice. I feel that I have so many flaws, that I fail so often, that it distresses me to no end to consider the possiblity that I'm already nicer than a good portion of the world. I refuse to believe that it's so uncommon for people to just goddamned listen and care. So I disregard that argument. It's certainly not that I'm all that pretty. It's not that I always know what to say, because I never do. The personal bubble theory is the best in my mind... the bubble that I have is about a magnitude smaller than anyone else's that I know, other than Dad. No one knows how to deal with either of us (sigh). But I can't change such a fundamental part of who I am, nor would I want to if I could. So I'm left, unintentionally (fourteen) leaving a wake of hurt behind me. Not that I fool myself into thinking that I am so important as to cause permament damage, but I (fifteen, sigh) become upset, nevertheless. (upset) Obviously I don't care that much, though, because if I did, I'd find a way to fix it. So there's guilt on top of it all.



Well, madam attorney, I was going to write tonight on how I felt about your clever little low blow ("Have you ever referred to yourself as a "slut" on your webpage?"), but I've promised that I would go to bed, so I'll spare you. Twenty-five feet of freedom and no email/phone is all I ever wanted or asked for, and now I have it, so I'm going to sleep soundly tonight and so be it.


My fishies kick butt. Sorta. But they're definitely cooler than the sample ones, so I feel good. As if my ability to sit down and patiently plot out lines on a snail's shell has any real worth in the world... but I need to feel proud about something. I get to go in to court again tomorrow. How cool am I!


MI2 was a silly movie. But I liked it. I've been there!


I shudder to think about what I have just done. It was something that I had avoided stringently for nearly a year; something that a secret part of me hoped to never do again.

I just finished engaging in... exercise.


So I hear it's good for me. I suppose it is... and it was certainly a gorgeous bike ride. I think I'll be doing it every day, two ways, over the summer, so I suppose that I should start getting used to it. The ride from home to Mercer took 45-55 minutes... longer than it should have taken, but did I mention that I haven't done much besides stretch to reach a different keyboard in the last year? And with my first class being at 10:50 or 12:00 each day, it's not like I'll be getting up at the crack of dawn and needing to scream down the trail. Okay, okay, 20 minutes after getting back to my dorm (and still rolling eyes at myself for forgetting a lock as I trip over the bike in my room for the umpteenth time) I admit to myself that I enjoyed it, and that I'm looking forward to doing it over the summer. If for no other reason than I don't feel as guilty about eating the way I do when I'm getting some modicum of exercise (heh).


Happy birthday to fool, happy birthday to fool, happy birthday dear brother, happy birthday to you! Even if I am currently in the process of skipping your party... I promise I'll find you a present tomorrow, and give you the biggest hug of the last year at dinner tomorrow. Have a good time in the almost-out-of-the-teenage-years club. Love you lots!


Good lord. I need to go to sleep. I wish I hadn't spent all this time on math homework, so I could feel justified in just skipping the damn class tomorrow, and maybe, maybe showing up for my 2:30 class. But I'm done! I'm going to bed! I don't care that I mostly copied the last one out of the book! I just don't care! My eyes feel as if they're going to fall out of my head, and my fingers just don't quite feel like ping pong balls!


I seriously meant to go to bed about two hours ago. Time got completely sucked away from me. I intended to talk about how much it disturbs me that the door in the girl's bathroom here sticks open half the time, but judging by the amount of backspacing I'm finding myself doing, I think I shall save that for another time and simply go to bed before I go into a spastic fit.


I thought today about disliking people. There are very few people who I actively dislike... many who I don't get along with, many who I'm afraid of, and many who I simply avoid for the betterment of the world. But among all those, there are very few that I would be able to truly say "I really don't like her," or "I hate him." Sure, I say it all the time, but I tend not to mean it as strongly as it sounds and gets interpreted. Not that how I actually mean it matters much to anyone but me, which is rather a shame. Language sucks. Oh, and just for everyone's favorite Network Lead (though Dylan does give me candy... heh).


Fishies and worries in my brain.


I found myself staring out a window today (this was somewhat out of the ordinary, as when I normally stare, it tends to be at a wall). I watched rain fall from a grey sky as some boys across the street fiddled with the engine of what I hope was their car; I attempted to think. I found myself unable to do so—I seem to be slipping into one of those phases where I have a hard time trying to do any sort of deep thought. I should chart this down and try to track whether it happens in any sort of predictable pattern—it'd be rather useful to be able to predict when I would be absolutely useless for heavy cognition in advance. Perhaps I could convince teachers to let me reschedule difficult assignments and exams around my dead weeks... perhaps not. I finally deleted the old Terminator 2 mp3 off of my computer; it was so badly warbled that it's only been nostalgia for gaming days of last year that led me to keep it around in the first place. I replaced it with one of the original Terminator theme, but it's not quite the same. Sigh.


Man, you'd think I'd learn to not try to compose anything meaningful at 3:00 am. What I wrote last night was rather disjointed. As for today... I spent all of today making snails and plants look spiffy, ingesting nothing but cookies and Doritos (and one can of Barqs), and I feel very odd. It's an interesting cross between wanting to pass out and throw up, yet not having enough energy to do either. I thought I was sick last night, and treating my body like a trash can today didn't help. Oh well.


I played around tonight with a bunch of greyscale imagery to decorate servers and workstations in the Hole. I was (okay, am) tired and cranky, and really didn't feel like doing much else other than increasing my risk for carpel-tunnel syndrome. Greyscale images are strange—they blend so much differently than I'm used to dealing with. I guess overall I had a good day; I got some things off of my chest that had been bothering me for a few weeks. I like being cared about, and it's lovely to feel wanted and important, but the line between solitiousness and smothering is far too fine where I'm concerned. I feel bad, because I lap it up in droves, but suddenly, when I've had too much, I snap, and there's no predicting when that'll happen. Hopefully it won't be a problem anymore, but I felt so terrible and ungrateful for expressing what was on my mind. It took a supreme effort of will to say anything at all; my tendencies usually run towards being quiet and uncomplaining, no matter what. People keep telling me that I shouldn't be that way, that I should pipe up when I have a problem, but most of the time, I'm not entirely certain that the direct benefit to me is worth the resultant guilt load I feel. We shall see.



On a completely different note, Kamal emailed the entire ADP list today. About me. A memorable quote, edited for spelling errors but not for grammar or anything of the like : "Also, since Jen wants to pursue the 'stalker' charge its possibe witnesses for either side might eventually enter into this, but I'm hoping right now that is not the case, and as I explained to the UWPD today, when I went to go pick up the evidence report concerning the roleplaying theft, I consider the inclusion of the 'stalker' charge on her report she filed as a parody of the fact that I made pen corrections to the Shadowrunners newsletters I gave you to give to Jen, which is not considered 'contact' with her by any means to the FASA demos section which was on the last page of the newsletter, since Jen recorded her 'stalker' charge in her report to the UWPD entirely in pen."

Um. Yeah. And stuff. If this makes sense to someone, I'll be rather worried about them. So far as I go, I checked the ADP mail this evening and had the unusual experience of my jaw completely dropping as I started shaking. I guess I need to decide if I'm going to ban him from the list (which is a public forum) just because he's a fucking psycho. I will if he ever tries to use it as a method to speak to me, certainly, but I don't think it'd be very fair to ban him just because I personally have a problem with him. Regardless, he freaked me out. I was glad I could call Richard and have him be here in a few minutes, because while I didn't want to leave my room right then, I really needed someone around.


Other than that, what happened today... hrm, let's see. I accepted the fact that I'm close to failing my math class, and felt compelled to email my professor to apologize. Chris called me a suck-up for doing it... I simply felt bad. I find it intensely ironic that I hated Differential Equations so badly last quarter, yet I'll likely end up with a better grade in that class than I will in Matrix Algebra, where I like the professor, have done a majority of the homework, and (except for the last two weeks) generally attended most of the classes. Considering that I recieved a depressing 2.4 in Math 307, the situation is failing to amuse me greatly.


(laughing) Tonight, my feet hurt.


I actually got to meet the detective today; got a full official statement made, and theoretically the stalking citation should make its way to the court within the next few days. Having learned yesterday afternoon that he tried to find me on Friday, I went down to get that anti-harassment order. Lord, I hate dealing with paperwork and beauracracy—it's not just a dislike, it's more like an active phobia. If Mom and Jim hadn't been there to squeeze my hand and help me fill out forms, I probably would have just burst into tears like I wanted to. Hell, to be honest, I wouldn't have gone and gotten it done had I not been prodded—my natural feeling would be to let it go, and let him drive me completely insane. But the clerk pissed me off so very very badly. I don't understand how someone can be as callous as most of the people I've ever had to deal with in any sort of beauuracratic environment. Would it have killed her to try to understand the questions I had, rather than roll her eyes at me and make every effort to be unhelpful? I hope that I never ever end up coming across that way while I'm in some sort of service-oriented field... I mean, come ON. I was there filling out paperwork while at least three other people came in and tried to be helped, and listened as person after person pleaded with her in tone of voice and in word for her to help them understand the ridiculously overcomplicated world that she files papers in; if I was ever as rude as her while I was on desk, I hope that someone would slap me. I just try to help people learn how to spell-check—she's supposed to be helping people with things like... oh, I don't know, CRIMINAL PROBLEMS. AUGH.


What a day. PChem and Japanese were great—I felt as if I learned things, and was entertained by Fujita sensei's rendition of various animal noises. But I failed my math midterm. No normal Jen-modesty this time—I pretty much couldn't (and therefore didn't) answer the first and last questions (out of five... each worth 20 points). So I went to my office hours and then skipped CSE. No, I don't understand the logic. Went to talk to Chris instead... added more to store of knowledge. Worked the desk, mistakenly went down to Mary Gates early, went down later and learned how to crimp cable. Stared at the monitor there for quite a while and tried to decide if I cared about the fact that I failed that math test; I'm still not sure. Ate dinner out with Chris, and listened. And talked, I suppose. But the listening bit was more important. Had a nice walk in a lovely day and my foot hurts. Seized by the compulsion to create a new playlist that described my mood, I just spent multiple hours (I believe) sorting through many mp3s. And now I have a chocolate headache, and get to try to talk to the detective again, and I still wonder if I should be caring about that test.


Long day yesterday of meeting Jim's relatives. Well, about a quarter of Jim's relatives, which roughly equated to my entire family put together. It boggled the mind... perhaps I'll be ready to think about it coherently in another day or two. Interviewed for the network bitch position just 45 minutes ago... I think I did well. I hope I hope.


I simply cannot believe that I am up at 7 am. I suppose it's just what I get for startling awake in the middle of a dream. Okay, long drive, my back hurts, but 3/4 examish things are done. Oh, and thanks for a good afternoon, you. ;) I like feeling productive and stuff.


Whoops. She read that (hehe). Oh well—she already hated me. Girls are such a mystery to me. Guys' minds I tend to be able to puzzle out to some extent, while girls seem to operate on some wacked out astral plane that I simply can't ken at all. She appears to have hated me since the day we first met; perhaps she hated me even before then. I wish I could say that I hate her back, but I don't. She drives me crazy, yes, and makes me feel really insecure, yes, but she's never been outright cruel to me, and appears to try her best to work civilly alongside me, which I have to appreciate. It's something, I guess.


(heh) Amusing acronyms of the day:

RAID—Redundant Array of Inexpensive/Independent Disks

SLED—Single Large Expensive Disk

JBOD—Just a Bunch Of Disks

Some things that drive me absolutely, completely crazy:

When the lead in my pencil gets too short and starts getting pushed into the pencil when I try to write. Something else that drives me absolutely crazy: Monica. Well, no... girls in general. Girls who use computers in specific. Gamer girls even more. The fact that others exist besides me removes my "specialness," and thus makes me more insecure.

Interesting things I learned about Netscape tonight:

Netscape will completely crash if there is too much data inside a table cell (I got bored and narrowed it down to exactly where it happens... between the "ds" and "h" of "friendship" in the middle of my half of John's advice column). Netscape will also crash if there are too many tables going on and you try to give even one of them special instructions like... oh... BORDER=0. Ugh... I advise any of my friends who are running Netscape to not visit my half for a while unless you guys really want to watch your system die in an amusing fashion. If you're running Linux it'll just kill NS... otherwise... *ahem* have fun?


Turns out that I register in a day or two. I suppose I should actually figure out what it that I wanted to take. And I should do my math homework. And I need to meet with my partner for Japanese before Friday. Let's not forget CSE midterm on Friday, too. Of course, for that matter, I suppose I should get a "restful" night's sleep tonight for my pchem midterm on the morrow. Though the hour and a half stress-exhaustion nap I took this evening might make that difficult. Oh yeah, I have CSE homework due Thursday and next Wednesday. Need to study for that math midterm on Monday. I really should go to class, unlike today and yesterday. And on top of it all, I really should remember how to spell Kerberos. Chris has me all psyched out about Dylan, and I just know I'm gonna look at him and all coherent thought will fly out the window. I'll probably start drooling and ask him how to double-click. It'd be neat to be the network bitch, though... Assuming I'm smarter than them. At least I'm cuter. If only that meant something.


Police report made, restraining order will be gotten tomorrow or the day after, and the officer knew who I was talking about and agreed he's really fucking weird. I don't think I'll feel better until I know that he'll be arrested if he contacts me again... that fucking nutcase letter today was the last goddamned straw.


Sigh. He emailed me again. Twice. If he does it again, or comes to visit me again, or calls me again, I'm calling the police. This is so not cool. I find myself in the position of begging other people to remind me that he's the one that's crazy, that I should not be sympathetic, that I should be firm in maintaining my position. At the same time, I have to pretend that I don't mind that much, that I'm not as scared as I am, that I'm not as bothered as I am. I feel that I have to laugh it off to some extent, to make light of it, to joke. The problem is, that after today, I find myself wanting to hide in Chris's server closet again, and have Jim walk around all corners in front of me again.


Well, I feel better. I told him to his face today to leave me alone, and I think he will. I had a really good Friday... felt liked at the staff meeting, which made me happy. But mostly I'm just utterly and completely bone-deep tired.



Kamal, if you're reading this, go away. I don't want you anywhere near me. Sending me crazy emails was weird enough. Talking to me obsessively about card games, conventions, and roleplaying was strange enough. The long, rambling, absolutely nonsense, one-sided conversations when you found me in the office or at ADP meetings was upsetting enough. Finding me at work was getting to be frightening, and knowing when I got off and waiting for me outside was worse. But getting into my dorm somehow and waiting outside my room for hours was over the line. Inviting yourself in behind me was over the line. Asking if you could stay in my room while I was gone was way over the line. Everything else that came out of your mouth, while you sat yourself down on my bed and I didn't know what to do, was way over the line. And still being there, outside my room, when I got home a few hours later was really way over the fucking line.

I've had to deal with many people over the years who were not quite on my side of perceived reality, and it's not something I've ever gotten used to. I don't like having conversations with people who aren't hearing in their heads what I'm saying, and I really don't like the feeling of being followed, or watched. I don't like the feeling I have had all last night and today, where I've had people go around corners ahead of me to see if he's there. I really don't like the fact that every five minutes I'm looking out the window, and that I'm sitting in my room with the door bolted, and that I'm not answering my phone. I hate feeling threatened, I hate feeling afraid, and I really hate that it's not really his fault. He can't help what he does, and who he is, and it's a damn shame that he's got me fucking terrified. But terrified I am, and if he comes near me again, I'm calling the police and slapping him with a restraining order. I don't want to have to worry any more if he's going to call me and trap me on the phone, talking about LARPing and conspiracies involving Ralph Nader. I never want to see that weird light in his eyes again, nor have to feel bad about politely trying to get him to go away, nor smell him, nor tell him ever again that NO, I am not going to _______ Con. NO, I do not want to play cards. And NO, I do not want to roleplay with you.

And I'm really upset that now I've been forced into a situation where I worry that he's going to show up in front of my door again.


How was I supposed to keep the kanji for Showa and Heisei straight? Sheesh. I felt sick all day, but the program and my Japanese homework for tomorrow are all done done done! I've had too much sugar. And I feel better for learning that the group dynamics for the last group project Jim worked on were much more dysfunctional than mine and Richard's. I feel as if my eyes should be replaced by whirling disks spinning silver and blue, about the size of a Chinette plate, and backed by about as much cognizant intelligence.


Welp, I'm gonna not do too hot on that midterm tomorrow. The sonkeigo and kenjougo are going to kick my ass, and the fact that I barely know the vocabulary won't help much, either. Fifteen unmentioned stresses in addition to it being TWO O'CLOCK IN THE MORNING WHEN I HAVE TO GET UP FOR CLASS AT 8:30, make me slightly on edge.

But only slightly. Really.