2005-02-02 - 11:52 AM

About a week ago, as I was meeting up with the friend who was selling me my cellphone, I got lost in the Architecture building. The irony wasn't lost on me.

As a matter of fact, once I made my way out of it's myriad passages, I sat on the steps out front and laughed, clutching my stomach, for I was too scared to venture back inside in search of the bathroom that had eluded me.

I have a photoblog. Strangest thing in the world, this cameraphone I have, it lets me email pictures to this free service over at textamerica.com, with comments, and they post them like blog entries. For the venturesome in spirit, It's over here. There's supposedly a way to feed the most recent picture over to this page automatically, but I don't have the motivation right now to muck with the layout.
It occurred to me in class today, my degrees of geek. I've written the infamous "Hello World" and "Palindrome" programs in Java, C, C#, C++, ASP.Net, PHP, JSP, Prolog, ML, Icon, Unicon, C-shell script, VB, and Python. Shit, I even wrote a Palindrome-generating CFG and a Push-down automata that checks for them. I've written a 5-layer operating system in C, an enterprise application in ASP.Net and C#. Photoblogging software in JSP that connects to an Oracle DB I constructed.

Why did all this occur to me? Because today in my intro c (GPA padder) course, the instructor said that global variables were "bad style" and I almost went all soap-box on him. I won't bore you with the details of why (so few of you know what a gv is anyway) but the fact that I believed so strongly that he was so utterly wrong made me realize, by god, I'm in the right major for me.

For those of you who went to that mobile phone blog I linked up there somewhere... Yes, that's me, wearing my girlfriend's wolf slippers.
Bes' respeck.

I totally almost tangented on how obscenely wonderful she is. I'll spare you.

No I won't. I'm a computer science major, dating a starbucks barista. She doesn't mind if I feel like sleeping alone some nights, which, consequently, almost never happens. She laughs and smiles so genuinely, it's fabulous. And the other day she died purple streaks into her hair. I'm weak for purple hair. Our fights consist of spirited bickering about who was watching episodes of Buffy or Angel without who (She: "You watched a whole disc without me!" I: "I watched it with you, but you slept through it!" She: "What about Season 4 of Buffy?" I: "What about THE ZEPPO?") during which we're both grinning. Afterwards we'll sit on the couch and grin.
"That was fun."
"Yeah. Heh."
We sit on the porch, smoking cigarettes, and muse about who we should hook Harvey up with, or Billy. And, the end-all of awesome girlfriendly traits, she's comfortable to sleep next to. And warm.

Harvey, by the way, is on a KOTOR kick. I'm on a Wild Arms kick. The other two in the house just sort of smirk at us. Whenever they walk in the door, one of us has a controller in our hands. KOTOR has suaver animation, but by god, Wild Arms got the mad notes.

I've totally run out of things to say, I should find a more graceful way of finishing the entry, but I can't. So it's going to come out more like:

Aaaaaand I'm done.

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