tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-69337982011-08-30T19:36:04.457-07:00Random Musings of Floofy the Buff Bunny, pet of the Morally Undefined Ghost of the Person of the Green Flame of Copper(II) Chloride, Resident and Native of 3C42Siliknoreply@blogger.comBlogger2931100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-12154890622190842602007-12-25T20:27:00.000-08:002007-12-25T20:35:28.567-08:00

I find that I am easily confused. This is only fair, given that I'm easily confusing too, but somehow that doesn't make it any easier for me to cope when I'm at an ice cream shop or am walking down the street on Christmas Eve, and see lots and lots of people wearing glowing devil horns. The people dressed up as animals, that I could deal with. But the devil horns was just a tad bit too much

Siliknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-43432828075434500032007-11-21T00:19:00.000-08:002007-11-21T00:25:42.057-08:00

I think that I've decided that green isn't. There really isn't any color there, but our eyes think that no color at all is boring and would make them feel useless. So they interpret the lack of color for us.The consequences if they didn't would be horrible, though, you have to admit. No more green means I'd try to walk through the huge wall instead of using the door to get to the next room,

Siliknoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-88833748591868071232007-10-18T19:07:00.000-07:002007-10-21T07:02:33.553-07:00

I may not be the center of the universe, but there sure seem to be a lot of people that pay attention to me. And it's not just because I'm a somewhat tall American guy living in Shanghai. Or at least I don't think so, 'cause it seemed like lots of people payed similar attention to me in California.That, and it's harder to notice I'm a tall American guy while we're driving along in a taxi. But

Siliknoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-46044242437475506072007-10-12T01:28:00.000-07:002007-10-12T01:44:11.423-07:00

I think I want a pet turtle. I would want to be a turtle, but I think I'd like to have more room to keep my stuff. They really don't have that much room, without having the whole four-walls-and-a-roof thing going on. They don't even have pockets--if they want to store food for the winter, I fear they have to pretend to be chipmunks and store food in their cheeks.Not that they have particularly

Siliknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-55266136862401933082007-09-28T16:32:00.001-07:002007-09-28T16:39:22.458-07:00

I want many things. But then, who doesn't? A pony, a new bike, the latest computer system, there's simply so much stuff to have. And so much stuff to want. I think I want so much stuff, that I'm not sure where to even start listing it. I'd go alphabetically, but then there'd be no chance that I'd possibly get that zoo pass I've been wanting to pick up. Because I want to see the zebra.But

Siliknoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-72175490764579922422007-09-07T10:13:00.000-07:002007-09-07T10:51:24.092-07:00

Some days you just really shouldn't get out of bed. Generally you don't really know this until it's too late, thinking that you're really just looking for excuses to stay under those really comfortable covers for just a few more minutes. Sometimes you think you're just being lazy. Sometimes it pays to be lazy, though.Take yesterday, for instance.I didn't really want to get out of bed, but I

Siliknoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-4711978049590682412007-08-30T13:32:00.000-07:002007-08-30T13:38:35.516-07:00

I had a dream last night. It kept me from sleeping well. It was a rather silly thing to keep me from sleeping well, but I don't like it when my dreams make me think all night long. (Or at least for the ten minutes or even two seconds right before I wake up.) I like it even less when my dreams keep me thinking through the day.It's been a while since I had a dream of being in class. I've not

Siliknoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-51315821252997998902007-07-24T10:45:00.000-07:002007-07-24T10:58:06.755-07:00

The thought has been wandering around the dark recesses of my head for a while now, and so I find that I can't cease wondering why things are the way they are. Why the world works the way it does. Why people that vote look so far down on people that don't. Sure, there may be some silly reasons to not vote (fear that you might find your own name on the ballot, for instance), but there are other

Siliknoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-67732939306206733232007-06-29T11:23:00.001-07:002007-06-29T11:34:32.543-07:00

I'm planning on heading back to my hometown this summer, and think I'm hoping to manage to possibly meet up with some of my old friends that I've not seen in much too long. Somehow it helps that there's a reunion this year. As part of the reunion, there's a list of questions to fill out. And as one of the questions, I'm requested to list my accomplishments.I think that it's an accomplishment

Siliknoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-24940094084621204022007-06-27T23:31:00.001-07:002007-06-27T23:39:24.095-07:00

I want to make something, but I don't know what. It's why I got into computer science, why I love Lego bricks, and why I have a blog. The problem with wanting to make something is that either you have to have someone else give you set of plans, in which case you're basically a glorified factory worker (not that there's anything wrong with factory workers, it's just not what I want to do), or

Siliknoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-65531590519874448002007-06-22T09:10:00.000-07:002007-06-22T09:27:43.640-07:00

Math has always been one of my great loves. Not my only great love, of course, and certainly not that which I love the most, but it ranks pretty high on the list. The way numbers can be juggled and moved, how starting from a very simple base one can build huge impressive structures, and how Fermat didn't have quite enough room left to finish off his proof.With this love of math, my view of the

Siliknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-54906020222533058472007-06-19T10:43:00.000-07:002007-06-19T11:01:43.803-07:00

I happened to be coming in to work late, and as I walk, I have time to enjoy the smell of freshly-cut grass, the sounds of birds chirping in the trees, the sights of a car stopped in the middle of the road with the driver running around it madly. And the sights of the tiny dog, running around the car just as fast, just a few feet in front of the driver. Sights I certainly wouldn't have seen,

Siliknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-69937924711816025772007-06-13T17:03:00.000-07:002007-06-13T17:12:03.481-07:00

It's getting hot out. Not that that should really surprize me, but somehow I suppose that it does. So it's getting hot out, and I'm not really sure what I should do about it. I could try walking around with a refridgerator strapped to my back, but I don't think I'd manage to get very far. And even if I did, I'm not sure that would really end up helping the heat any, unless I also hauled

Siliknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-21253849360181886632007-06-06T12:14:00.000-07:002007-06-13T17:14:12.289-07:00

I missed a whole month. I'm not sure how that happened. Sure I've come close before, but still, a whole month? Three birthdays, an airplane ride, lots of running around in my car and various other activities. Not enough sleep, too much work, and generally remembering to brush my teeth. But add all that up, and it can't come anywhere near the time that's passed since last I tested the waters.

Siliknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-30232513726131694512007-04-24T15:50:00.000-07:002007-04-24T16:27:01.407-07:00

I find in my life than incoherency can be one of the major problems of communication. Which when I state, seems obvious, but up until the moment I put it down, I hadn't really considered it all that much. Probably due to my mind being preoccupied with other, much more interesting and seemingly-useful thoughts (exactly how big can a corndog be before it's too big to stay on the normal

Siliknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-49461642627366854802007-04-11T13:44:00.000-07:002007-04-11T13:54:44.587-07:00

I find, in my greater-than-normal sleep-deprived state, myself wondering about a great many things. And thus, for today's topic. The origin of the napkin. The paper kind, not cloth. That's a seperate question all and in of itself. Whatever it is that that happens to mean.Really, though, who came up with the idea to use a piece of paper to clean your face of any unwanted residue left after

Siliknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-87835420686414233492007-03-01T15:13:00.000-08:002007-03-01T15:20:15.454-08:00

I have the best ideas. I've known how to save the world, how to be a bazillionare, how to thread a needle from all the way across the room. I've had ideas on the best video games and tv shows that could ever be made, and have played the world's best music, just for me, within the safety of my own head. I've known it all, and have shown myself that I have the best ideas.It's too bad I can't

Siliknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-25086089779807178272007-02-21T12:45:00.000-08:002007-02-21T12:51:12.799-08:00

I think they're out to get me. I've thought so for years, and recently I've been seeing yet more proof. Twice, yesterday. Twice, that I noticed. Unknown, how many times they tried to get me and I was too busy to notice. Or too distracted. Or simply too oblivious. But I'm certain of it, I know it for sure. They're out to get me. I think.Twice yesterday, I was crossing the street. Or,

Siliknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-41103792328842146372007-02-02T15:40:00.000-08:002007-02-02T15:48:30.178-08:00

I'm trying to decide where I want to travel on a vacation this year. I could try to take no vacations this year, to be different, but something about visiting somewhere new seems to be calling my name. Which means I've got to figure out where I want to go.Some places are pretty obviously out. The moon's too far, Atlantis is too expensive, and Roanoak is too lost. Some places are less

Siliknoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-32451530010401217512007-01-17T15:30:00.000-08:002007-01-17T15:46:38.548-08:00

Driving down the road that night, I saw it standing thereFlailing arms and gaping maw, it had a glowing eyeLightning struck and thunder crashed, revealing scales of greenThe monster soon was to step forth, then trailing slime and sludgeThis I knew and this I feared, hoped dark my car would hideKnowing yet that one false move, my life he then would takeQuick to pass for pass I must, I simply flew

Siliknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-46344916900138511382007-01-16T11:53:00.000-08:002007-01-16T12:02:36.058-08:00

Walking to work I started thinking. It was cold outside, so it took a while for the gears to get going, and I was a block and a half down the road before I realized how happy I was to be walking on the west side of the road instead of the east. It was a couple more blocks before I started wondering what I would have done if I had been walking on the east side when that sprinkler turned on. And

Siliknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-5199124703670581532007-01-04T14:50:00.000-08:002007-01-04T14:58:26.646-08:00

I've decided again. And this time it's not an astronaut or police man. I want to be a stand-up comedian when (if ever) I grow up. I could so do it too. It's not like I'm afraid to get up in front of people and make a complete fool out of myself. Why would it be any different from making a complete fool out of myself in the privacy of my own home?Being a stand-up comedian would have tons of

Siliknoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-25231712428050817672006-12-13T12:32:00.000-08:002006-12-13T12:38:37.110-08:00

It's being a busy, busy time of year. Being sick for a good bit of a week didn't help. And then yesterday I had to go and get cold feet.I hate having cold feet. It makes me much less willing to actually do things. I'd rather just sit around, hiding from the world and all the problems it can bring. I'd rather warm my toes by the fire, and hide under a thick blanket with a warm cup of hot

Siliknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-1163528156946568512006-11-14T10:07:00.000-08:002006-11-14T10:15:56.993-08:00

I really, really, really dislike telemarketers. But you know, who doesn't. Still, I have fun with them on occasion. I let them talk, I answer their questions. I use answers that have nothing to do with the questions they asked. And then I feel better about them having interrupted the game I was playing.But recently I've found there's nothing I can do. Recently I've been getting a ton of

Siliknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-1162403542774196002006-11-01T09:40:00.000-08:002006-11-01T09:52:35.346-08:00

I was lazy this year. I didn't end up having a Halloween costume. I was given several ideas, but just didn't feel like bothering, as they were all so much work. All but "software engineer", but it doesn't really count. Still, I spent some time thinking about costumes walking in to work, and have decided that I'm going to have to get a group together next year. So many costumes, we'd be "10

Siliknoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-1160668935902260312006-10-12T08:49:00.000-07:002006-10-12T09:02:15.936-07:00

I find the most interesting things walking to work. Today I discovered that the radiation output by my monitor is worse than I thought. It doesn't just affect the plant sitting next to it, it apparently affects things much, much further away.Walking down the sidewalk, I take the back way so there aren't many other people around. So there I was, minding my own business, when it fell out of the

Siliknoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-1160433237781478382006-10-09T15:27:00.000-07:002006-10-09T15:33:57.810-07:00

So having an early email account is a lot of fun. Getting email that's not intended for me gives me quite the glimpse into lives of other people of similar names from around the world. Some of it's interesting, some of it's fun, and some of it's just sad.Most of the time I'll try to get the other end straightened out. Many of the emails I end up with are for mailing lists I didn't sign up for,

Siliknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-1159995407962922552006-10-04T13:16:00.000-07:002006-10-04T13:56:48.766-07:00

Some people are just so unbelievably impatient. Walking home from work yesterday was nothing new. Watching out for the traffic when I crossed the road was also an old, well-known activity. I'm almost surprized that I don't require holding someone's hand when I cross, given how careful I am of the traffic that I know doesn't notice pedestrians.I know this, because cars end up blocking traffic

Siliknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-1158947279741061632006-09-22T10:40:00.000-07:002006-09-22T10:47:59.770-07:00

Sometimes I wonder if it's just me. Most people don't seem to spend much time walking anymore, so I'm not sure anyone else considers it, but sometimes I find myself wondering what the proper etiquette is when walking down the sidewalk behind someone that's slower than you.I used to just pass them. You know, move over to the left side of the sidewalk, use the accelerator, and swerve past them

Siliknoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-1158078890225571012006-09-12T09:28:00.000-07:002006-09-12T09:34:50.293-07:00

I have proof now. Not that I can show anyone, but I am certain, positive, and absolutely sure that the world revolves around me. I've suspected it for years, but never wanted to really admit that I was quite that massive.But now I have proof. I can no longer deny it. The world is my oyster, and I am the center of everything.I was walking to work today, like I normally do. I stopped at the

Siliknoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-1154707538674376492006-08-04T08:59:00.000-07:002006-08-04T09:05:39.133-07:00

I have a plant on my desk at work. Well, I have two of them actually, but only one of the two is really important and of great concern to me right now. Although that's not actually true either, as the other concerns me, but that's mostly because I fear it's not getting enough light and is dying.So I have two plants on my desk at work, and one of them is dying, but the other seems to be doing

Siliknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-1153510610552315722006-07-21T12:31:00.000-07:002006-07-21T12:36:50.596-07:00

I was attacked, walking to work.I don't know what I did wrong, either. It must have been something I did wrong, though. I wouldn't have been attacked if I'd done whatever it was correctly. You don't get attacked for doing things right. I keep thinking it over, keep trying to remember, and keep coming up short. I still don't know what I did wrong, all I know is that I was attacked on my way

Siliknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-1153177319920745832006-07-17T15:51:00.000-07:002006-07-17T16:01:59.940-07:00

Where does it lead? It's a nice path in the middle of the forest, surrounded by some wonderful scenery and a fairly steep drop-off (not pictured). But the vegetation is dense, getting in the way, and an approach forces the question.Where does it lead?Perhaps it leads to an enchanted land, inhabated by unicorns and giant three-and-a-half-toed sloths. Perhaps on the other side is the end of a

Siliknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-1152558646539666922006-07-10T11:53:00.000-07:002006-07-10T12:12:59.843-07:00

My blog posts are backlogging; I meant to write last week, but got distracted. Between work, guests, and me simply being lazy, I didn't find the time to find anything interesting to say. But here I am again with a picture that's worth a thousand words.That was a lot of firework, up in the sky last Tuesday evening. But as I was asked, what makes the sound of the fireworks? Not the loud *BANG*,

Siliknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-1152143105185986172006-07-05T16:47:00.000-07:002006-07-10T12:13:45.040-07:00

It's that time of year again. Sweltering heat, expensive gas, and crowds at the dinkiest tourist traps that would pack a football stadium. It's that time of year again: roadtrip!Not that I've been on a roadtrip in ages. Not since driving across the country to start my new job, but that doesn't really count, given that I drove for three days straight and only stopped for the night when my car

Siliknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-1151429107761307212006-06-27T10:13:00.000-07:002006-06-27T10:27:28.506-07:00

That's it. I finally found it. At 7:53 PST this morning, I finally discovered the origin of The One Squirrel.There I was, walking down the street, minding my own business, when it hit me. Well, not /quite/ hit me, but it was a pretty close call. If I had been paying a bit more attention and had been walking in somewhat straighter of a line I would have been hit, so I'll go ahead and count it.

Siliknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-1151339543956163062006-06-26T09:17:00.000-07:002006-06-26T09:32:24.190-07:00

My plants are starting to die.It makes me sad to come in and see them; the one was green and happy when I left work on Friday. It was excited to have a weekend to enjoy, had plans on relaxing, getting some sunbathing in, possibly going for a swim. It was full of hopes and dreams. But its dreams were shattered. The water never came, but the water wasn't as desired as the sun. The sun went

Siliknoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-1151084076108337042006-06-23T10:20:00.000-07:002006-06-23T10:44:33.380-07:00

"Neither rain, nor sleet, nor snow" will keep the postman from delivering your mail, so they say. But those can't be the only things that will keep a postman from showing up on your doorstep. Yet, I don't know what the rest of the saying is, so I find that I have to make some slightly less-than-educated guesses.Neither rain, nor sleet, nor snow, nor burning sun or glowing moon; no tidal waves

Siliknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-1150908869576528022006-06-21T09:44:00.000-07:002006-06-21T09:54:29.613-07:00

What exactly /is/ the point of a fire alarm? It's loud, it's annoying, it's generally ignored. The alarm went off today, and as I made my way out of the building, I glanced around quickly to make sure I wasn't simply hearing a ringing in my ears again. The quick glancing didn't really help much. People kept chatting, eating breakfast, working on their computers, or even playing pool, but

Siliknoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-1150747213605342272006-06-19T12:45:00.000-07:002006-06-19T13:05:51.230-07:00

I think I scared her as I was walking down the path. I'm sure she wasn't expecting me to come strolling by, else she wouldn't have made so much noise as he ran along through the underbrush, across the dead, crisp leaves.Or mayhaps I'm wrong, maybe she was expecting me to let her be, expecting me to stop, take a few pictures, ask for her contact information in case some sort of ad agency wanted

Siliknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-1150478672726301852006-06-16T10:15:00.000-07:002007-04-24T16:27:23.259-07:00

I had some unexpected visitors this week. I hadn't been expecting to use my pool anyway, so I almost didn't even get to see them. But as I left my apartment, there they were, making me want to go for a swim.What made the momma duck decide to go for a day trip to the pool today? And how did she know to use the pool, how did she keep the ducklings from going into the hot tub? How did she plan

Siliknoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-1150329102327987982006-06-14T16:45:00.000-07:002006-06-14T16:51:42.356-07:00

It was a dark, forbidding place. The naked arms of the trees reached toward the sky, blocking all that would pass, be it plants from below, animals on the ground, or even the lights from the sky. It was a place of darkness, of horrible deeds and awful acts. It was a place that could be tread upon only once, only one way, only to walk even further into its grasp.It was a place that gave you

Siliknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-1150216834483348492006-06-13T09:29:00.000-07:002006-06-14T16:52:23.116-07:00

I went to Yosemite this weekend. It was a fairly last-minute decision, and then my procrastination made finding a hotel even more difficult, so we ended up simply driving there and back in a day. A long, long day. A very, very, very, long, long day.I hoped to stay longer, I hoped to see (and take pictures of) the stars, although I forgot that the moon was going to be so full washing most of

Siliknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-1150125945275583772006-06-12T08:17:00.000-07:002006-06-12T08:25:45.306-07:00

I do it frequently enough that I shouldn't be surprized by the things that I see as I walk to work. But the world keeps changing on me, and the things I see keep changing right along with it. Months ago, when they started doing road construction on my path to work, I was annoyed. They completely tore up the side of the road I walk down, requiring me to use the (slower and much more dangerous)

Siliknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-1149800856049851572006-06-08T11:18:00.000-07:002006-06-08T14:07:36.070-07:00

I need to get organized.If you ask my mother, she'd tell you that she's known that for years. Well, I can't really argue, as I've known it too. But with all the picture-uploading I've been doing recently, I've found myself spending a lot of time trying to get things organized.I think I have finally found a solution to my organizational problems, though. I'll have to start keeping my eyes on

Siliknoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-1149696566242422912006-06-07T08:58:00.000-07:002006-06-07T09:09:26.266-07:00

I find that when I have nothing to write about, it's not really all that surprizing and is like all the rest of the time in my life. But if I start writing, I can manage to fill up a page or three of complete and utter nonsense before I have anything to say. At that point, though, I'm obviously tired of writing. So that's my excuse for having filled my blog with complete and utter nonsense.But

Siliknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-1149198939798651902006-06-02T12:00:00.000-07:002006-06-02T12:09:14.496-07:00

I know, I seldom post about things that are new or exciting. Generally it's about the snail that beat me in my trek to work (they leave some pretty nasty bruises) or the feather that looked like a brick of lead. Generally I'm much too long winded, and don't have anything to say, but can write enough to empty an entire inkwell and run the world out of its quota of the letter 'e' for the next

Siliknoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-1149108588715927322006-05-31T13:33:00.000-07:002007-04-24T16:25:31.347-07:00

I'm at it again. It's not my fault, though. I've not been around long enough to be at blame here. Someone else invented the English language and made such fun words. And I can't really be blamed for abusing it at every possible opportunity.There I was, driving down the road, minding my own business, when a thought jumped out of nowhere and smacked me right between the eyes. I, of course,

Siliknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-1147329090733419792006-05-30T13:31:00.000-07:002006-05-30T13:35:16.133-07:00

I never really spent much time playing 'king of the hill' growing up. It was always too painful, being pushed down, trampled on, and didn't help that there wasn't a decently-sized hill for miles and miles and miles. It always seemed a silly game, and I'd much rather have read a book. But I suppose that some things simply don't have the proper fingers needed for correctly being able to read

Siliknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-1148590814172878902006-05-25T13:49:00.000-07:002006-05-25T14:00:14.193-07:00

"Why is it," I wondered yet again as I walked to work, "that the movie theater dislikes pedestrians?" I suspect they don't intentionally dislike pedestrians, as anyone that wants to give them money should be welcome and encouraged to do so. But passing the flowers that smell like wet dog, it was yet again obvious that pedestrians aren't very high on the movie theater's priority list. Somewhere

Siliknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-1148398160517812812006-05-23T08:20:00.000-07:002006-05-23T08:29:20.563-07:00

I was going to complain about the theater that I walk by on my way to work, but when I got in and started checking my email, I became confused. I get so much random junk in my inbox (order confirmations, tax paperwork, interview schedulings, propositions) that I'm generally used to having mail that I don't expect. And because of this, I know that a lot of people think that they own my email

Siliknoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-1147329020309698442006-05-18T12:00:00.000-07:002006-05-18T12:02:46.010-07:00

I went to the beach, not the set of some bad 60's beach movie. But the sky was such a uniform shade of blue that it looked like it had simply been painted on. It was pretty hard to tell that it was a real, honest beach. If you ignored the waves crashing on the shore and the birds flying around and the frisbees that you kept having to duck to avoid being decapatated.Still, it doesn't much look

Siliknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-1147797827619031702006-05-16T09:33:00.000-07:002006-05-16T09:43:47.636-07:00

I learn something new every week.Last week, I was walking home from work. I wasn't expecting to learn anything new, as I thought that I finally knew everything there is to know about walking home from work. But as I reached my apartment, I realized that I don't yet know everything. As I passed the bench that's used as a bus stop, right by my apartment, I saw a duck and six little ducklings. I

Siliknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-1147454904020893892006-05-15T09:28:00.000-07:002006-05-15T09:45:48.980-07:00

So there I was, chatting with a couple of friends, when the phone rang. I hate it when my phone rings, because I can't seem to prevent myself from answering it, even though I know it's going to be a telemarketer. I just keep hoping I'm getting a call from someone wanting to give me a bazillion dollars or something. In any case, my hopes yet again were shown to be unfounded, as I answered the

Siliknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-1085465658276123162006-05-12T08:00:00.000-07:002006-05-12T09:13:32.543-07:00

One summer vacation with my grandfather, he decided it was time for us to go to Yellowstone, see Old Faithful and all that. Random stops on the way, and a fun time feeding the deer, it was a great trip overall. But it also was one of the ultimates in spontenaity; I've realized that I can never match up to my grandfather.As we left Yellowstone, my grandpa decided that Mt. Rushmore really wasn't

Siliknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-1147038043557541722006-05-11T08:00:00.000-07:002006-05-11T10:54:37.646-07:00

I've been told that dogs dream in black and white. I'm wondering where they come up with this stuff. Who's the researcher that has to go around asking dogs, "so, tell me about your dreams." Does he get to work with people too? Does he actually even listen to the answers, or does he play a game of hang-man on his notebook while he waits for his 'patient' to ramble on before coming up with some

Siliknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-1147038115891603362006-05-10T08:00:00.000-07:002006-05-10T10:32:59.580-07:00

Shadows. Such very frightening things. Sure, it's pretty obvious what they are much of the time...or at least so you hope to believe. That's not really a person hiding behind your door, not really a snake sitting there on the sidewalk. And this isn't really an alien hand, open and out in friendship. (If the 'thumb' were just a wee bit shorter, it'd look just like Bob, though.)Sometimes I

Siliknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-1147038425759996632006-05-08T08:00:00.000-07:002006-05-08T09:15:45.156-07:00

Obviously, the ancient Chinese didn't expect that the great wall would actually be able to keep the invading Mongolian hoardes out of China. They knew that the occasional Mongol would make it through the gaps; it's fairly easy to get around the end of the wall, even if it does end on a 'cliff'. But they also had to have known that once the occasional Mongol made it through, he'd be assailed by

Siliknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-1146810919261100432006-05-07T14:35:00.000-07:002006-05-07T14:39:19.226-07:00

Siliknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-1146710742121898662006-05-05T08:00:00.000-07:002006-05-05T08:15:46.136-07:00

Siliknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-1146710638873695912006-05-04T08:00:00.000-07:002006-05-04T09:27:34.186-07:00

It's almost a raccoon, almost a panda bear. Either way, it's simply begging to be fed.

Siliknoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-1146619326718694042006-05-03T08:00:00.000-07:002006-05-03T09:47:13.453-07:00

One of these things is really not like the others. One of these things really doesn't belong. But can you guess which of these things is not like the others? Don't worry, though, I'm not going to sing a song.

Siliknoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-1146617833799888672006-05-02T17:57:00.000-07:002006-05-02T18:00:11.060-07:00

When baby trees reach a certain age, the parent trees have to show them the ways of the world. So one morning before the sun comes up, they pack up their belongings and head out into the wide, wild world.Pictured here, you can see the baby tree and its father, as they gaze upon another form of life. And the baby tree has just one simple question..."Poppa, with so many dunce caps, they can't /

Siliknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-1146549043025374692006-05-02T08:00:00.000-07:002006-05-02T09:14:44.873-07:00

But really, how do they tell who is who? It doesn't help that their memory's like half a second long, because not only can't they tell who they're looking for by, um, looking, but they end up asking the same fish over and over and over again.Are you my father?Are you my father?Are you my father?Are you my father?Of course, what's the reply going to be? With a half-second memory, he's just got

Siliknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-1146434270743689702006-04-30T14:57:00.000-07:002006-04-30T15:03:26.246-07:00

Sometimes graffiti annoys you, as it's there simply to mar the beauty of whatever was there before. It doesn't improve on things, it simply removes things, preventing the future from seeing the same things we can see now in the past. Kilroy was here.Sometimes, though, you wonder if they had the same problems in times long past. Did the ancient Chinese emperors have to hire armies of people,

Siliknoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-1146122491938799512006-04-26T23:02:00.000-07:002006-04-27T00:23:29.540-07:00

Siliknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-1145578177560865512006-04-20T16:54:00.000-07:002006-04-20T17:09:37.610-07:00

I've dropped off the edge of the world again, and this time I really mean it. Thankfully, China's here to break my fall. Yet, being on vacation means I don't have as much or accessable internet connectivity as I do back in my own apartment, so some things suffer. Of course, there's little chance my blog even noticed.I have been in China traveling, though, and have been having a blast. Saw the

Siliknoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-1144430122092404342006-04-07T09:39:00.000-07:002006-04-07T10:15:22.176-07:00

I love candy. I mean really, who doesn't? So much yummy sugary goodness, but that's just the tip of the iceberg in why candy's so good for you. Candy can make me happy when I'm feeling sad. That's why I keep a whole bunch of it onhand; that way, any time I even vaugely think that I'm starting to be a little bit blue, I grab a handful and hit another sugar high. Candy makes a rainy day pass

Siliknoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-1144088390165959922006-04-03T11:12:00.000-07:002006-04-03T11:19:50.180-07:00

I didn't break any this time. We went to an amusement park, and I didn't have a single ride break down on me, either while I was on it, or waiting to be on it, or even while I was just walking by. My super power is gone.It might help that I didn't ride many rides myself, and only manage to break the rides when I'm wanting to ride them. I rode the wooden coaster a few times, and the one water

Siliknoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-1143999784738334452006-04-02T10:39:00.000-07:002006-04-02T10:43:41.670-07:00

Siliknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-1143823291602436762006-03-31T08:30:00.000-08:002006-03-31T08:41:31.910-08:00

There are some really bad reasons for staying up late. You're waiting for the cops to come talk to that guy prowling around your house, or you're riveted to that late-night infomercial. Or you're busy installing software on your computer so you can get your shiny new digital camera to send its pictures on their merry way. (One of these happened to me last night, and as a hint, it has something

Siliknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-1143771484071426862006-03-30T18:18:00.000-08:002006-03-30T18:18:34.790-08:00

Siliknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-1143737437647546532006-03-30T08:32:00.000-08:002006-03-30T08:50:37.666-08:00

The things I see on my way to work. I'm frequently glad that I drive, otherwise I probably wouldn't notice the cop chasing down speeding cars, or the one blocking traffic on the freeway by attempting to take up all 4 south-bound lanes. But for the most recent incedent, I was sad that I didn't yet have my shiny new camera.And this one had nothing at all to do with the police!Some kids dress up

Siliknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-1143242730045431132006-03-24T15:17:00.000-08:002006-03-24T15:25:30.060-08:00

It's that time again. Time for my semi-un-not-really-regularly "I'm here and alive, honest!" post to my blog to make sure the two mice that haven't yet figured out how to jump on the keyboard to get back to surfing the web don't give up on me. It's time to post something, whether or not I have anything to say. And it's not that I have nothing to say! That's not really the reason that I'm

Siliknoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-1140551291516755732006-02-21T11:38:00.000-08:002006-02-21T11:48:11.550-08:00

It has been determined that I'm cursed. I vaugely suspected so previously, as every checkout line I ever enter is the slowest one in the store. (The only person in front of me once decided to pay in pennies.) But of all the places to have my suspicions confirmed, Disneyland isn't where I expected it to occur. Yet, at Disneyland it was.With the three-day weekend, I was glad to take a vacation

Siliknoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-1140034384005983872006-02-15T12:06:00.000-08:002006-02-15T12:13:04.016-08:00

And there I was, on my way to work. It was a great day out; perhaps a bit chilly, but not cold enough to stop me from walking. I'd just crossed the freeway and hit upon the new intersection when it happened. I wasn't expecting it, and am glad I didn't start to cross the street as soon as I had the right of way, because that's when the little silver car decided to blow through a red.Red light,

Siliknoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-1136846258814287412006-01-09T14:19:00.000-08:002006-01-09T14:39:25.536-08:00

In the early 1800s, Robert Seeds bought a wagon full of goods and moved his family west. He joined a new community by opening his own general store. As more people moved into town, he found that he had to post his name on the store, so when newcomers were told to go see Robert, they could find the right door. In 1823, Robert put up his first sign: Robert Seeds.Shortly thereafter another

Siliknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-1135810321895292012005-12-28T14:33:00.000-08:002005-12-28T14:52:01.920-08:00

There is way too much stuff stored in some people's attics. Sometimes it makes me glad I don't yet have a place of my own, that instead I'm renting an apartment that has no good hidden nooks and crannies in which to stuff decades worth of old unread junk mail. Or not-so-junk mail. Although I may suspect that there's a pocket in space/time that enjoys living on my entryway table. But that's

Siliknoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-1133910008424618332005-12-06T14:42:00.000-08:002005-12-06T15:00:08.440-08:00

People see time as a line. This moment is happening in the way that it is because the last one occured in such and such a fashion. The next moment will be because of how this one occurs. We (generally) believe that we can affect things at this moment in time, but have no way to change the past or the future without actually being at that point in time.People see time as a line, and take the

Siliknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-1126155591582172102005-11-04T09:03:00.000-08:002005-11-04T09:03:12.040-08:00

Siliknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-1131123741165142872005-11-04T08:53:00.000-08:002005-11-04T09:02:21.180-08:00

"Write what you know," they said. "Write about something that happened in your life. Write what you know." So I tried. I really did. But I found that I don't know anything. Or at least anything that I can write about, and write well, when I'm trying too hard to write what I know.I've learned much from the past, and this is one of the many things I discovered. I simply shouldn't write what

Siliknoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-1130952361990650712005-11-02T09:19:00.000-08:002005-11-02T09:26:01.990-08:00

It's been a while since last I wrote anything of interest. I've made excuses before, and I'll make excuses again, I'm sure. I'm very good at making excuses, even though most of them are fairly obviously not true. But I still continue to insist that Nessie did swim all the way from Scotland to eat my homework that morning!This time though, I suppose I have no more excuses. Not even ones that

Siliknoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-1126154397969205972005-11-02T09:18:00.000-08:002005-11-02T09:18:24.943-08:00

Siliknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-1124159678654885852005-11-02T09:17:00.000-08:002005-11-02T09:17:29.806-08:00

Siliknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-1126154637893855122005-10-20T11:43:00.000-07:002005-10-20T11:21:09.970-07:00

Siliknoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-1127232185830082422005-09-20T08:54:00.000-07:002005-09-20T09:03:05.836-07:00

I think I want a new job. It's not that I don't like the one I have. I like it a lot! But there're some things that I'll never be able to do here. The computer will never appreciate me for the word games I play. Well, not all of them, anyway. The one last week with the 'W' and the 'X', it's still not over that one.But still, everybody likes to be appreciated. And I know that I can't be

Siliknoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-1126154125881291742005-09-18T22:35:00.000-07:002005-09-18T23:24:45.990-07:00

Siliknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-1126154777402295722005-09-18T21:46:00.000-07:002005-09-18T23:27:41.126-07:00

Siliknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-1126155366319742892005-09-15T09:56:00.000-07:002005-09-15T10:40:22.090-07:00

Siliknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-1126154503790050042005-09-13T11:41:00.000-07:002005-09-13T11:16:03.066-07:00

Siliknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-1126155696025224092005-09-13T00:01:00.000-07:002005-11-04T09:03:51.823-08:00

Siliknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-1126155528199433302005-09-10T17:58:00.000-07:002005-09-10T17:40:34.986-07:00

Siliknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-1126154337415387292005-09-09T09:38:00.000-07:002005-09-09T10:29:48.673-07:00

So which side of the building /would/ be better for a fire truck to deploy? The one side has, well, quite a bit of water. So there would be little worry about running out. Considering the state of the infrastructure on that island, I'm not sure the fire hydrant would actually work anyway.Of course, on the other hand, the fire hydrant /is/ fire-engine red, so it is the logical place for the

Siliknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-1124159136610006772005-09-08T13:25:00.000-07:002005-09-08T13:22:26.300-07:00

Siliknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-1126154881261174812005-09-07T22:48:00.000-07:002005-09-07T22:24:47.683-07:00

Siliknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-1126155208218301402005-09-07T22:47:00.000-07:002005-09-07T22:29:11.343-07:00

Siliknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-1126155111497020562005-09-07T22:45:00.000-07:002005-09-07T22:28:39.330-07:00

Siliknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-1126156921349321042005-09-07T22:08:00.000-07:002005-09-07T22:22:01.350-07:00

I've tried to stay away from too much ranting on here. I've tried to keep to the mindless, the odd, the different, the new. But, alas, I find myself unable to contain my displeasure at the stupidity and moronicity and whatever other -ity's I can come up with. For again I am reminded that people are dumb. People annoy me.I took lots and lots of pictures in the last couple of weeks. From these

Siliknoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-1124159585759859882005-08-17T12:00:00.000-07:002005-08-17T08:55:58.246-07:00

Siliknoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6933798.post-1124159526447280632005-08-16T12:00:00.000-07:002005-08-16T09:30:42.300-07:00

Siliknoreply@blogger.com0