2004-08-09 - 3:49 AM

Code, code, code. Pain. 12 hours in the lab, minus a food run and a smoke/walk break around campus. No shit. 2:00 to 2:00. Pain, suffering, exhaustion. In terms of functionality, the project is no different than it was 24 hours ago, so on the surface we got nothing accomplished. But what we had yesterday was wrong, it was stunted, it was by some grace of god pretending like it knew what it was doing. The rewrite is better. It's like the difference between having a midget and a 5 year old. Only one of these can grow.

I was sad. I came home, Brittany was perky-dorky-headbanging in a doorway to "I feel good" coming from Oplinger's room. The Andrews were standing in the hall talking. A specific part hit, and they all lifted up a leg and shook it like there was no tomorrow.

Brittany looked down at me. "You didn't shake your ass."

"I don't dance." Fuck! The second most instantly interpretable to "Please try and change me" phrase ever uttered, within a week of having moved in! Second, by the way, to "I'm not actually a Christian," only slightly less well known.

"I mean... " I stammered, "I was just enjoying the view." Which I was. Sly wink at Harvey to cover my tracks.

He walked over, grabbed my hand, and lifted gently. I caught air. He then lifted up my leg and pointed at my ass. "Shake it." He grinned at me.

Non-dancer or no, when this man says shake, you shake. I shook. They laughed.

I spent the next 2 hours in the doorway with them. It reminded me of the dorms, when 4 people who barely knew eachother could be walking back from a party, or outside for a smoke, or off to a midnight shower, and just crossing paths in the hallway would lead to the most satisfying hours of their lives. Breakfast-club-esque. Brittany isn't, as of yet, another dorky mini-crush, but it's only through concerted "She has a boyfriend, we live in the same house, it's a bad idea, I don't need the hassle" effort. She's utterly fantastic in a vibrant, energetic, 5-year-old sort of way. She's incredibly comfortable around guys, but not in the "I'm one of'm and I'll belch and swear to prove it" kind of way, nor the "Hey, look, cleavage! I can have a band of devoted geeks!" kind of way. I've grown somewhat wary of both. Just comfortable, in a way you can't help but admire.

20 hours until the project is due. 2 days until the final is out of the way. No idea how to spend the week.

A decision has been made, that I shall write down, that I may remember on the morrow.

Fury. A week and a half of slak-fu fury will be unleashed.

Ph34R. Or something.

-Alex

|

Slide back | Stumble forward