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| Sunday, May 4th, 2008 | | 3:26 am |
I hope I'm not boring you
No shit, there I am, trying to tell the story of my previous dream. (Which I do not remember, mind, but it involved working a whole bunch of friends from Stonemarche trying to do some terrible complex dance that they've never seen before.) Someone has decided that this story is *terribly* interesting and funny, and I am under pressure to wait until every shows up to hear it. Finally, it's time to start telling the story. By now, I'm telling it from the balcony of the mall. Everyone involved in the story is present, and ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) ladyariadne is pretty impatient, especially once she realizes how many level of recursion this story is going to have. Someone shushes both presidential candidates who are trying to talk over me (Obama is trying to explain some kind of policy stance relating to dance, and McCain is disagreeing with him), and I realize that the entire city of Chicago is watching on television. I nervously realize that I'm not at all sure that the story is *that* interesting, but launch into it anyway...
A little nervous about overselling the pre-alpha launch of CommYou, you think? | | Tuesday, December 25th, 2007 | | 5:43 am |
Giving the defense; or, Insecurities on parade
It's late in the evening, and my defense of the CommYou idea is about to begin. I'm in the shed, fiddling with the lights, trying to get them working. One's out; so is another. Damn. No, wait -- that switch does turn the main lights for the supermarket on, so I can stand in front and talk. Okay, that'll do. The switch is just tetchy, so I'll need to be careful with it. I pull out my Treo for the twentieth time, to make sure the demo will work. Midnight arrives, and so do the guests, all bundled up for the winter cold. Lots of friends are there, curious to see what I've been working on -- I see siderea and ladysprite (who is cheering for me), as well as a bunch of assorted older Carolingians. Neat: it's a good boost to see that people are curious. Inside, before we start, folks are chatting away. goldsquare mentions that one of his old roommates, siderea, is going to be moving house shortly, and she's having a party to celebrate next weekend. I blurt out that the party was *last* weekend, and was a lot of fun. I see her fading quietly behind a curtain with a look of "I can't believe you just said that", just as I remember that it was a private party for just a few of us. I let the sentence trail off into a mumble, mortified at the slip.
Not an entirely unpleasant dream, but laden with insecurity. As of this writing, CommYou is just at the outset, and I'm more than a little nervous about the idea of hanging out over the edge like this. I suspect I'm craving friends' approval for the whole thing.
Note that the phone-based side of CommYou is precisely the part of the equation I'm least sure about right now, because of the idiotic economics of SMS. The rest of the system has largely taken shape in my mind; I know what I *want* to do with SMS, but at this point it's not clear that it can be done, due to cost.
As for the foolish slip at the end, that's a real concern that's been striking me lately. I've noticed a tendency to blurt carelessly: it's been especially bad at dance practice, where the mouth is tending to engage before the brain. Recent research indicates that older people tend to think less before talking (sometimes inappropriately) -- I wake up reminded of that... | | Tuesday, June 5th, 2007 | | 3:05 pm |
Dancing, dancing; everybody dancing
As I look back up the street, I see a woman dancing down it, with a bunch of other people behind her. As they turn to go into the building, I get curious and go see what's up. A procession of ordinary folks are dancing into the church, which is elegant and gothic, but with highly perforated walls so I can stand just outside and see in. I think it's a wedding, and the guests are all dancing in. The entertainers arrive, a band all dressed in yellow, moving like a cross between Cirque du Soleil and I Sebastiani. They stop outside, right by me (and the small crowd that has gathered), and begin putting on a little mime show. A bunch of them join together to look sort of like a missle launcher -- a fine segue into the fireworks display that starts up on the large monitor next to me. Everyone settles down onto the benches by the door (arranged into a sort of horseshoe formation) to watch. One of the performers, an older lady, sits down next to me and puts her head on my shoulder; I'm a tad uncomfortable with this, but she seems harmless. Later, I'm inside for the second show. The place is remarkably huge inside, almost more a theater than a church. I ask Patri about it, but don't get any answers.
I'm wandering around in the furniture store, a maze of rugs and chairs and all sorts of other things. The salesman is dressed in a bizarre outfit of uneven wavy stripes. I don't understand why until he (with a smug grin) stands in front of one of the carpets: it has exactly the same pattern, and he vanishes, chameleonesque, against it. Over at the counter, I notice my stepmother Sandy. I'm about to ask what she's doing here when I notice that my stepbrother and sister are also there, along with a gaggle of other relatives. Oy -- it's a family reunion, and I hadn't realized it was coming. I head over to the exercise machines to find Siderea, to show her the cool trick the salesman is doing. But I can't find her there, and the salesman has disappeared entirely anyway. The relatives are pretty obvious here: I discovered a couple of days ago that our one family reunion this fall mutated into two, and got a little stressed about it. | | Thursday, November 2nd, 2006 | | 4:25 pm |
Crunchy and delicious, but inconvenient...
I'm watching the show on the VCR, when the picture starts to get jerky. Hmm -- better pop the tape out and examine it. Oh, hell: the videocassette comes out, but the tape is still feeding into the machine, and it's still playing. I have to hold the cassette very still, or it the tape itself will get clogged going in and out of the little door on the VCR. Let's try pressing buttons. What does this one do? Oh, crap -- the tape coming back out has now been cooked! It's coming out as crispy-fried wonton wrapper! Which I'm really fond of, but it's very brittle, so I have to hold the cassette even *more* steady, or it'll snap... [ No idea where that one came from. But the image of the wonton wrapper winding its way into the cassette has stuck with me for several days, so I need to get it out of my head by writing it down...] | | Friday, February 3rd, 2006 | | 5:53 am |
Okay, *that* calls for a large can of Raid...
I've been sent down to the island to investigate strange reports coming from the old radiation testing labs. My guide escorts me to the very tip, only yards away from the beach, where the bulkhead door is set into the ground, and hands me -- a spear? I'm puzzled, but he assures me I don't actually want to go down there. I stick the spear into the bulkhead entrance, and jump back when a mandible pokes back out about four feet. I think about being scared, but downgrade that to startled as another side of the giant spider tries to get out. Confronting that thing in its nest would be bad, but it's pretty clear that it's at least 25 feet long, and the bulkhead door is only about 5 x 3 feet. And the lab is made of concrete over steel, so big as it is, the thing probably isn't getting out of there. Oooo - kay. The official report is going to read, "severe side-effects due to radioactive contamination". This base needs to be shut down for -- hmm. What is the lifespan of a giant mutant spider, anyway? (I suppose this entry is in honor of getting the postcard announcing the next Sci-Fi Film Marathon...) | | Tuesday, September 6th, 2005 | | 1:11 pm |
| | Tuesday, August 3rd, 2004 | | 6:33 am |
| | Friday, July 30th, 2004 | | 9:32 am |
| | Monday, April 26th, 2004 | | 10:05 pm |
| | Sunday, April 25th, 2004 | | 1:20 pm |
| | Wednesday, March 3rd, 2004 | | 5:02 pm |
| | 6:49 am |
| | Friday, February 27th, 2004 | | 9:22 am |
| | Friday, January 30th, 2004 | | 6:54 am |
| | Saturday, October 25th, 2003 | | 5:58 am |
| | Thursday, October 23rd, 2003 | | 1:57 pm |
| | Saturday, September 13th, 2003 | | 5:44 am |
| | Monday, September 8th, 2003 | | 9:00 am |
| | Thursday, August 28th, 2003 | | 3:34 am |
| | Friday, July 11th, 2003 | | 3:00 am |
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