Somehow, I can't help but wonder if John Wayne's walk came from being stiff as a board or sth.... lol

Couldn't sleep, so I just read for a couple hours; finished the book easily and thought on it for a while. Just gave up on trying to sleep. Replaced morning stretches with working on my legs, feels a bit better but standing/walking still feels like daggers. I decided to tone down the exercises, I limited to forty reps spread over sets of ten to twenty. Obviously I omitted anything that puts to much strain on the legs lol. Lunges were replaced by mid snaps without the vigour, and squats/lifts with sth I learned some time ago that for  working the upper back/shoulders. Most of my normal exercises go for the upper body anyway. Definitely skipping on running yet again, but not skipping breakfast this time...

The real question is whether or not my legs will ever forgive me yesterdays march lol.

After a day of aching from the thighs down, and having to face work tomorrow with plenty of climbing up and down stairs. I think any spare time will be spent sitting for a change, instead of pacing back and forth :-S.

A long walk is like everything else in the world, you survive it by continuing to put one foo in front of the other, until you keel over. That and having problems with surrender, helps.

30 some klicks of persistence

Just got home a little bit ago, went for a very long (~6 hour) walk intermixed with a few km of jogging. Just mapped it out and it amounts to about 30km foot travel. That's actually a bit slow for me, but after the first ~20km, I was out of water and essentially creeping forward on stumps.


Filled my canteen and left around 1635 local, HRP even tried to deny me the water 8=). Was a nice argument just to get out for a bit of walking, but I did say that I would becoming back! Took a more round about path around down town as a warm up, through what could be said to be the local equivalent of the 'wrong' side of the tracks, but still got there. Made a wrong turn that added a good hour to things, which I hadn't wanted, but also found an excellent short cut through safer ground because of it. That path would still be faster by foot or car than the usual path. Had church on the brain, so I guess I ended up heading towards that. Took a five minute break by the side of the road after the first three hours or so, stretched my legs, took my shoes off to check my feet: and ripped off part of the insoles to reduce how much it digs into the bottoms of my feet. Turned back for home after that, because so much time had passed that I would likely be getting home after dark.

I walked so far that I actually ended up having to give a sheriff my state ID and learners permit, and he confirmed that I was well within my rights. Sounded a bit impressed when I answered his questions about where I had walked from. Don't get it, it's not that far... unless maybe you drive every where lol. Still had about 1/3 litre of water in my canteen (1 litre capacity :-().

Changed routes on the way back, because the road I had spent most of my time on, is dark as piss once the sun sets. On the upside, form the main highway I was able to see the sun set. Got home around 22:30-22:40 local time. The last ten or twelve kilometres is what really killed me: but like normal, once I take a proper break, I'm ready to rock. I'm not even tired now... lol. Fetched myself a water and poured myself a ginger ale (for the sugar content) as soon as I got in, than sat down to rip my shoes off and stick the stumps in water.

Spent about an hour on the phone with my brother, mostly oriented on his dislike for sth I wrote in my journal about him being "Useless" on the driving war 8=). It's typical. Either way, I don't count things until they are actioned; something that our mother could do well to learn herself! Coming up on nearly 5 years of keeping a journal, I should probably just be surprised anyone notices it. Spent most of the hour after that dealing with my mother \o/. Anyone who thinks of me in the context of being paranoid, rude, worrying to much, or even griping to much: all I can say, get to know my mother as well as I do, and you'll see that about ten thousand fold lol.


Missed dinner but I don't really care, was more thirsty than anything else. I'm also wide freaking awake and could probably do a few hours worth of my regular exercise cycles... and still be just as awake. I'm not interested in walking another thirty some kilometres any time soon, but in the end, it was actually far less tiring than what that a good day at work used to look like. I did however accomplish what I had aimed to achieve: getting out of this rats nest and clearing my head of its thoughts. Of course, that took almost five hours of walking... but that is a different problem :-S.



Either way, I've probably done more walking today, than my mother moves in an entire year!

I must say, after nearly two days awake and several dark moods, passing out cold for an hour or two really helps improve ones disposition!

What kind of fool shaves at two o'clock in the morning? Only two kinds: s.b. that has to be at work before dawn, or s.b. that can't sleep for shit.

Which I am, is a no brainer.

Skumped again!

Perhaps one plus of the entire shitty day was HRPs choice of film over dinner: The Snake Pit. While it's become a favourite film, the way things have been here lately, I can't help but enjoy a film about an insane asylum. Sometimes I start to wonder where I'll land in the end.



Tonight was supposed to be a chance for some night driving, but her royal pain the mega bitch has reneged yet again. I can't help but remember, that my mothers every fibre of being, extends little further than what it takes to ensure that she can continue to sleep, eat, and shit. The rest of the world can generally rot as far as she is concerned. That's my mother in a nut shell.


Sometimes I wish I could erase enough of my soul, to just meet things with the decisive violence that they deserve. It's the only thing some people can comprehend. I may consider myself to be selfish from surviving this shit hole, but at least I fucking care about people. That's more than some can prove. What the fuck do I have to do, make like a five year old and sit on the floor banging a wooden spoon on a metal pot until she gets served an eviction notice by the land lord? At least it would make a statement that can't be ignored. More likely she would have me arrested lol.

Selfish or just incapable of caring, she is still a road block that is not be easily dislodged. Her "parole" as it were in this matter of getting my license, runs out soon: then the war of foot travel goes another inning.  For the lack I have of weapons in dealing with this matter, I can't help but think, that this is what I get for learning to physically defend the fucktards that I'm related to, instead of studying politics and the like. If I was dying in the middle of the street, you could bank on my own flesh and blood being the last fucks to offer aid, let along call a paramedic.


One of my favourite artists did a song a couple years back, about a relationship that ended as "Just another picture to burn". I can't help but wonder, if I make it through another twenty years on this rock they call earth, if I'll look back on the first twenty as just a set of memories to burn. There's scarcely anything to look back on positively, except an example of what kinds of person that I can't stand to ever become. Yeah, I think that will be the fate of it all: burn it.

JavaZone Trailer: Java 4-ever

Now this is just tooooo funny :-D

Today's project

Setting my laptop to update itself, so I don't have to be bothered lol.

You know, when you've been awake for most of the last ~20 hours and it's not even noon yet, a certain sth starts sounding like a good idea :-/.

Leave it to a good LORD and a friend

I was debating whether or not I would update my journal today, because there's not that much I could say. The last couple of days, I'll just describe as dark and crabby. Like being in a proverbial rotten mood. Haven't been logged in much, times just been spent either contemplating plans or trying to empty my head of all thought.

Today, almost like GOD trying to tap me on the shoulder and remind, that you can't be in a black mood all the time, something like twenty or thirty minutes ago ma started barking. Apparently a package had arrived, and nothing was audible through the radio stream blasting in my headphones xD. Much to my surprise, not only was it a package addressed to yours truly, but  also from a sender that I've known for years.

As it turns out, not only did I not get my usual birthday wish, for everyone to just forget the date, this year I really didn't get it \o/. Something like 80-90% of people still remembered, even my fathers sister of all people!


In opening the package, on top of a rather densely packed parcel, I found an envelope with "READ FIRST" written across it in red. Being the methodical S.O.B. that I am, ofc I had to read it first. While reading the message, I couldn't help but be amused at the apology for printing the letter off the PC, guess it's kind of to do with his hackish nature. (I would've done like wise.) Inside was a rather large collection of sweets and a pair of small birthday presents. In one particular case, whether accidental or intentional, I don't think my friend could have been more thoughtful in the selection, if he had spent much deliberation on choosing it. My mother of course, being her usual self of course had to pause to wonder if any of the treats were poisoned or sth. As I've always said, if you think I'm paranoid, you've just got to meet my mother lol. Considering who sent the package, I would trust this person with my life, and wouldn't put it past my own family to do worse than that anyway :-P.


Truth be told, I think this friend has made my week... let along my day. You also can't go wrong with attacking the spiders sweet tooth to ease a bitter mood.


GOD, I have no idea what I have ever done in my life to deserve this, but I thank YOU just the same. Please keep watching over all the people I care for.

My mother quadruples her efforts to uncover my plans, but to very little avale. As far as I am concerned, she has to either earn it or prove 'clearance' to it. It's as simple as that.

All in all, my life is a relatively open book; there's not much to hide. When I've let my family know what's on my mind, I've often found the result tends to yield the emotional equal to a dagger in ones flesh, or being hounded to no end: most often over some minor detail, at the expense of all other subject. There in, actually lays a key of choosing ones words: being terse has value if people pay attention, but if no one will get past the second or third word, who cares if you use five or twenty five words to say something? Aye, that's the rub.

By contrast, among those that I consider to be "Friends", within the inner-circle of them, most people have some idea of what my plans are. Things tend to flow both ways in that regard, as it should be. You could also say, that I know all to well the problem of a heavy spirit, that when given the chance: I believe in being a friendly ear, um, eye.. lol.

When it comes to family however: I present a well folded piece of paper. Information disclosure tends to follow a need-to-know model of unfolding that paper, or it remains classified altogether. Likewise I tend to take little interest in going son, as I know, it will only lead to me being *used* more often than not. That's the kind of damage my family has cultivated in our relationships. I can't help but find my mother's probes for intel, somewhere between narcissistic and laughable, if it wasn't for the tinges and pangs of desperation. Like a rat fearing a sinking ship.

Cut me, do I not bleed? Wrong me, shall I not forgive? Strike me, will I not learn to block?

After watching that bridge be burned for more than a decade, she will have to learn to build it herself, or live with it as I have been made to. I am to old to worry about being thrown over the parapets again.


I am not the mercenary type my family is, my blood doesn't run cold, I merely run out of plasma. That's life.

Roman Holidays, Broken Arrows, Eagle Wings, Snake Eaters, and Jello on the side

Draw the sabre, prepare for war.
I will not stand down, not until
The last drop is long since spent.

Fires stoke, blades glisten.
Sounds of marching can be heard
From the hills afar, and the grounds
Below. Into hades and beyond.

You saw fit to leave me for dead,
Now I return with double the strength.
Fear my coming as surely as you fear
The end of the world. I'll not yield.

For surely the battle will never end.
Not while I draw breath, shall I ever.
There is nothing to be had in this, save
      victory or death!

—June, 2010.

The Spiders 22nd goes past

My brother called this afternoon, wishing a happy birthday, and absolving himself of doing anything useful until it is time to *take* the road test for my driver's license. I will believe that he will be even that little bit of help in this matter, when I'm hit and run over by a car. The only thing my family is good at is serving their own ends, I never forget that. Most friends either wished me a HBD over facebook or IM; so much for being able to ignore the days normal significance \o/. I thank GOD when a friends birthday comes but when mine comes along, I just 'sigh' and hope it goes quickly..

Since extenuating circumstances and my ethics, put me in a spot where I have to postpone decision day for a few days; I can think of someone my mother should be plenty thankful to, that today wasn't marred with any "Falling bombs", so to speak. Otherwise all hell would have broken lose this evening. That doesn't mean nothing will explode in the end.


Aside from my mother cussing at me even more than she normally does, the rest of the day went by like a fairly average day. That's all birthdays are to me; the only difference from any other day is that my head has to increment its age counter by one year, and remember that everything has been a massive !@#$%^& failure. January 12th and June 20th are two days of the year, that I seriously hate.

I've been in an extremely grouchy mood for most of the day; everyone should just be happy that I intentionally try not to snap at innocent people. If I've dug into anyone today without noticing it, I apologize; afaik I haven't hit anyone. When my status message indicates that I'm in a negative mood, it just means you better not expect me to be, "Cheerful and bubbly", I won't rip peoples heads off without just cause, but it's far warning that YMMV. Simple as that.


Most eventful of the entire day: was despite being banned from my room for just that very reason, when one of the yorkies ma is watching for the week, not only leapt on the bed this morning, but crashed the laptop shut, climbed over my head, and pissed the bed!! To top it all off, while the sheet was in the washing machine: someone also had to go and chew a head sized hole in the thankfully still dry under layer. I'm getting tired of the collateral damage around here.


Gave up on staring at walls around mid day, and laid down. Tried not to do much thinking. Unfortunately I ended up in a very deep sleep for most of the evening, so I'll likely be awake until near dawn. So much for not thinking. At least I didn't dream much.


Because of the way scheduling has gone, I've been off work since Thursday afternoon, and I'm off work for like the rest of this coming week. I don't actually like being off work for long stretches as much as most people tend to: with how I have to live, they tend to be worse hell than working triple the usual amount. I can't stand being idle.


Except for what errands are necessary, or that she decides to launch at her own will, essentially: her royal !#$%^& pain has decreed that the car isn't moving an inch until we return to work. So when 5 hours out of the time ~9.5 hours that I've got left to go, have to be driven after dark—I'm not exaggerating when I say it will likely take months to get a full driver's license. Don't believe me? Just ask my mother how come I've only had 1 fucking hour of night driving in SIX MONTHS OF PUSHING. State law requires that a minimal 6 hours out of the required 40 hours, be driven at night. My mother wouldn't get off her fat arse for a single moment of the day, if she could figure out how to do it: let along at night.

It would be the understatement of the year, to say that I hate my life.

In terms of things that happen every year

I do think that this is officially the day that I hate most out of the entire year. If not, it could only take second place...

How not to advertise your product

"When Defraggler reads or writes a file, it uses the exact same techniques that Windows uses. Using Defraggler is just as safe for your files as using Windows." -- source

I was just updating the CCleaner program I use, and thought I would take a look at the other programs they've posted on the new site. When I saw what I've just quoted above, on their defrag tools features page... I could not help but think "THAT IS THE WORST DAMN PITCH EVER!", as safe for your files as using Windows!? Seriously folks!

Oh man that was nuts. I fell sound asleep next to the laptop, ended up dreaming of a mixture of sublime C coding and all heck breaking loose.

Decided to try my hand at UrT, because I really haven't played anything in a while. Finally had a good run, I was only holding 3rd place tonight lol.

Totally obliterated targets, alternating between riflemen, gunner, and sharpshooter. I nearly had my jaw drop when I racked up at least 3 out of 4 targets killed in about 1.5-2 seconds. If I can see the targets head, I can shoot it!

Just like dropping turkey's.

To thine own self be true....

On top of everything else that weighs on me, now there is another issue. I have two opposing matters: one involves respecting a friend, and the other is what I perceive as following-through with decision day on time. That is about as straight as I'll write it here, since I keep the contents of private conversations pretty damn private.

For me, it's really not a simple thing: both actions are the right things to do within the scope of my code of conduct. It is the right thing to respect my friend in this. It is the right thing to do what I've said I will do when I've said I will do it. The problem is they conflict here; as the former can't happen unless I reschedule the latter. Yeah, it's never mindlessly black and white.

Being to far kicked in the head to be able to process this smoothly, and without being able to explain the problem better than a case for mathematics, I asked for the help of others close to me in solving such a moral problem. I reckon, that C is the correct answer out of !(A ∩ B) in this particular case .

In thinking carefully over some very wise advice about points of view, I remembered something that I used to say a long time ago about my decision making processes, and how my heart, head, gut, etc all entered into it, but first among these has always been my heart. So I reckon, that if I truly do care about this friend, and that caring about someone really does mean to me what I say/feel it does, then I guess the choice is right there in my heart. In a way, I reckon that's what the advice also amounted to in it's own round about way.

Which means respecting my friend in this first, rather than being stubborn and selfish about following my plans.

After nearly 22 years in this flesh, I reckon it would be lying to myself if I did anything else. Whatever the future holds for me, I can't deny that choice reflects who I am on the inside. Hell, I've agonized over decision day for what, nearly a month? A small delay can't do that much, nothing can short of a miracle or a time machine. Listening to the advice of a very important person in my life, has also reminded me, that after enough years of friendship, it is possible to get to know each other better than you might think.

Sometimes I also wonder if GOD has to point a finger at something every now and then, and has to keep Himself form saying "Here stupid, LOOK!". Much like a math' teacher.

Time passes, that's all that changes here. I grow so weary of passing time away.

I remember something my old pastor once told me, that prisoners of war would be told to dig a hole, than made to refill it again. And again, and again, as a form of torture: nothing but digging holes and refilling them. The lack of purpose would drive them insane.

Now I really feel like slamming my head into a wall.

I'm not sure the feeling that everything as I know it, is spiralling towards an abrupt end, is supposed to be a positive or a negative emotion; all I can say, is it has one hell of an impact on the insides. I don't feel like eating.

Decision time is at 21:26 GMT, June 20th. That's the adjusted time for when I was born. Running the math, that gives something like 53 hours until I've got to make my choice. Aside from a couple hours sleep in that, really I don't have anything else to do except think about the choices. That's been most of my month.

I'm not sure what the outcome will be. All that I know, is it means failure, the final failure. Push someone far and hard enough, for long enough, and what else do you get? There's no real escape from having to think about it. There's something like 24 hours in a day, I spend at least 18 of them going over this shit, that's on a 'busy' day; I haven't had many of those lately.

I hate my life. I wish I could hate those who have brought me here.

Ok, when you dream of the earth being invaded by rapidly multiplying martions and suddenly have to make like any other red blooded American, by repulsing invaders via finding and dual wielding HG Wells' Slinky's. Then you know you are officially crazy lol. On the upside, it's the most pleasant dream I've had in a long time, and I find it fitting that The Time Machine is on late nite TV.

42

I find myself wondering, what is it that binds us in this world? Why be here, or there; why even live at all? You could say my minds in a strange place tonight. Honestly there's not a lot in this world that I care about. Almost all are people.

For some odd reason, the words, "I search for meaning" just came across my thoughts: only to be shadowed with a hitch-hiking memory.

Arthur Dent, having escaped the Earth's destruction, potentially has some of the computational matrix in his brain. He attempts to discover The Ultimate Question by extracting it from his brainwave patterns, as abusively suggested by Marvin the Paranoid Android, when a Scrabble-playing caveman spells out forty two. Arthur pulls random letters from a bag, but only gets the sentence "What do you get if you multiply six by nine"?

“

"Six by nine. Forty two." "That's it. That's all there is." "I always thought something was fundamentally wrong with the universe"

”

Six times nine is, of course, fifty-four.

Where the number 42 is the Ultimate Answer to the Ultimate Question of Life, The Universe, and Everything. Either way, my brain hurts enough that I'm going to sleep.

Leave it to family, to make sure I end up in a black mood...

It's been a rather, involved day.

Spent the first half of it alternating between bouts of dozing off (ugh!!) and trying to get stuff done. I want everything in order before decision day hits on the 20th. I'm tired of dreaming, think I'm starting to envy those who rarely do.

Had to work a new job today, the latest addition to my mothers cleaning business: a couple with three kids and two house guests. Besides wondering if ma could move any slower and driving myself at maximal pace: I also had to mop the floors with a towel because they were out of the stuff they usually use. What is it with people and their floors these days... sheesh. Get floors that clean normally. To top it off, half the floors were already nuked before the kids finished lunch. Reminds me of telling a friend to enjoy a clean house, before the dogs get to it.


To top it all off, shortly after getting home, my monitor blanked again. This time however it wouldn't function again. Tried a DVI adapter and my graphics cards other port, plus the mother boards own VGA port; no joy. I had to replace it with my 'spare' 15" monitor, so now I'm stuck trading crisp colour with over dark blacks, for shotty text and faded colours. Joy. The monitor I have now, was like $3 for something the library was going to throw away a few upgrades ago. What just died, was a snazzy 19" war horse, that was the best hand me down ever.

I'm just happy it wasn't the graphics card shorting a port or sth like that, because I don't have the cash to replace anything. If I didn't have a spare (and now, two busted...) monitor sitting around, I would have no choice but to use the machine headless or not at all. I often do both of that, but you can't play 3D games over remote desktop, any more than a PC that's powered off. Even with a crappy monitor, at least I can load up GR or UrT for a little break.

The sad thing is the desktop displays better when remoted in from my laptop, than on this backup monitors screen lol. Well, for three bucks, who am I to bitch? With my luck, I ought to just be thankful for an internet connection, even if that's liable to change.



The thing that seriously pisses me off, is knowing that my mother has wasted nearly 6 months of my time, and that is only counting this year. If I counted the what, 6-7 years of working in this business, I'm not sure I want to know just how much time has been wasted. All because I said that I yes when asked to "Help". FML.

This is the last thought I want before bed...

Just got home a little bit ago, found the desktop had dropped off the wireless. Luckily the ruby scripts I had left open weren't disturbed :-/.

Today, I found one positive thought, and I can't even remember what the hell it was...

Lately things feel like it's life in a daze. It must be something like 90% of my train of thought is spent grinding on the same subjects, and zero hour just moves closer with each passing moment. Sometimes I wonder if I've any marbles left in my head.

I know for a fact, that her royal pains' funds for petrol have just doubled, and were no where near exhausted yet. Still the car spends most of this week idle. Work forces a driving boost next week in order for HRP to make a greater profit, but knowing my mother, you can bank on the required night driving to take months. I offered a long time ago to put what few bits I've got saved towards fuel, to no result. Deadline expires soon, and I did mean it quite literally as a deadline. What else is to expire with it? All my life, I've always been expected to suck it up, carry 150% and keep going, get shiat on from every direction and never say a word. I'm fucking tired of it. I'm drowning and everyone still sits on their fat ass.

The other day, I remember pointing out that if I was *actually* a smart person, I wouldn't be here. A friend corrected me: "If you were less caring you wouldn't be there". I guess that's accurate, because if I didn't, I wouldn't. Maybe smart people don't care about other people, I don't know. Some how, I've always considered myself to be a selfish person; someone, somewhere will undoubtedly agree with that accessement. Despite that prang, I still care very deeply for the people around me. Sometimes I reckon, that makes things hurt all the more.

Right now I just wish I could slam my head into a wall and pass out for a while, but I know better than to break the wall. My mother would never let me hear the end of that; land lord would also be a tad P.O.'d as well.

Now I really do feel like a leper in a crowd.

Sometimes it's impossible to dodge a rotten mood :-/

Heh, the radio is saying the humidity is up to 81%

Thoughts of family: what they're good for

"Useless as tits on a boar hog" -- an expression my father was noted for.

Just got home and out of the shower a little bit ago. Missed my morning run (again), because I was trying to get crap wrapped up before work. Had to cut that short with HRP driving me bananas sufficient in advance of having to get dressed, that it was pointless. So I just left my computer on and went off to work.

Trying to get some spells of focused coding is about the only relief I get, and they're to far and few in between. Decided to take a walk after work, before even arriving. Between pacing at work and being on foot, I've walked at least 10km today. I've been in a terrible mood. At least walking, I can both be alone and have solitude when desired; being at home is as good as being alone, and periodically bitched at or tapped by someone who expects to be waited on like an invalid.

They can fry their eggs out on pavement, but they won't fry me! Weather service was saying 94F/34C with the humidity enough that it is `supposed` to feel like 99F/37C. That is skin-melting by local standards. Well suck an egg, because that's not hot. I had a thick shirt and jeans on, no hat, and rarely any shade: but you can't tell me that was 'too' hot to be walking in. Nadda. After growing up in Florida, it has REALLLY got to be smoking out before I'll take notice. Few places in the country have that intensity or worse, and those out of the states that do, well should we say also know what > 120F/~50C looks like.

Only stopped for about 5 minutes when passing through a dingy park, but otherwise kept on the move; either trying to think or trying not to. Decision day is inching ever closer.

On one positive side, my brother might make an appearance at some point in a way that may lead to some driving time; he's more interested in barrowing the few bucks I have 8=). I can't help but remember an old expression about being useless.

Hooah, about an hours sleep and no dreams, now I just need to stay awake...

How I tend to build projects, or why it's usually painful on build tools

I'll typically setup what I call a tripple-tree, or a quad-tree layout. Each project has three top level tree structures that represent a phase of "Getting it done". Hacking it, building it, and distributing it.

A source directory (typically src or Source), that houses  the projects code, and basically everything you/I want under version control. Structure varies but I tend to create modular bundles out of habit.

A build directory (typically Build/Architecture/OS or Build/Architecture.OS), that houses all essential build time files for that configuration, that won't be distributed. I test builds against multiple Operating Systems, and synchronise the work directory between machines; so being able to have builds of each concurrently tucked away is a bonus. Sometimes I go further and subdivide the build tree into different configurations, such as Release/Optimised/Debug builds, but I rarely have need to.

A distribution directory (typically Dist/Architecture/OS or Dist/Architecture.OS), that contains all the files needed for a user to simply extract to a folder on that given system, and run the program. Worth while for me, for the same reasons as the build tree, plus the added benefit of simple a zip/tar installation!


Sometimes I also create a fourth tree called 'Vendor' or 'Deps', that functions like the source tree, but instead contains the code for whatever libs are required. Plus customised project files/build scripts to compile them when needed.

Like wise, I'll often have an associated set of FILES in the top level, and a documentation directory providing all pertinent information. I particularly pay attention to writing down notes about boot strapping builds, and porting the system to a new environment; because you never know when the next sap sending patches will be you.

Oh so many people ship IDE project files that reek of laziness or brain damage. Me, I'm so damn lazy that I don't want to have to explain it, in fact, I don't even want to edit it later. I just want the thing to *work* when I tell it to build sth. It takes time to do it that way, but it is usually worth it. At least, for cross-platform freaks like me.



Programming is a subject that I do take seriously.

Quick & Painless C/C++ header installations using rake

In wrapping up and refactoring my new rake driven build system, I've written numerous utility functions. Most stuff specific to compiling crap is in a custom "Builder" module that provides a templated interface to the current OS/Compiler kit, via environment variables and methods like make_object, make_shared_library. My top level rakefile also has a neato inference rule rigged together for handling my triple-tree and quad tree build patterns.

The real fun of the day however, is this baby:

#
# A magic function that generates file tasks that copy all headers from
# directory ind # to directory outd.  Any missing directories are created as
# needed.
#
# The return value is a list suitable for the right hand side of a task, e.g.
#
#   task :headers => header_magic(src, dest)
#
def header_magic(ind, outd)
  dirs = []
  hdrs = []

  find_files(ind, /.*\.h[hxp]*$/) do |p|
    outdir = File.dirname p.sub(ind, outd)
    outfile = File.join(outd, File.basename(p))

    directory outdir
    file outfile => p do
      cp_r p, outdir
    end
    dirs.push outdir
    hdrs.push outfile
    CLEAN.include outfile, outdir
  end

  dirs+hdrs
end

find_files is another custom function, it simply takes a block and yields and file names matching the specified pattern. (In this case, more liberal than the usual header extensions but sufficient for my needs)

I call it header_magic, because it after all the other stuff I played with, it's the closest to Clarke's third law. Which is exactly what I want!

footnote: I just have my top level clean task nuke the entire build tree; so the CLEAN part hasn't been tested.

Getting late but sleep is about the last thing I feel like right now. What's the point really? I'll just wake up in an hour or three, and be looking for ways to forget my dreams, or end up thinking my brains senseless. My dreams have been horrible lately.

It usually takes a few weeks of non stop moving before my body demands a proper crash landing. Now if only I could work myself that tired, and get real rest.

Something about having a dozen windows open and a gazillion tabs of everything running, reminds me just how much I hate task bars. Alt+tab ftw.

Just a fluke or signs of an impending FML moment?

The desktops entire display blanked out, yet the monitor continued to display that it was receiving signal. Regardless of what I did, it wouldn't display anything! Managed to RDP into it from the laptop and found everything working perfectly fine. On reboot everything worked as normal. Obviously I made sure the male VGA connector was properly inserted, and reseated it, but that didn't make any difference.

The big question is it a fluke, or associated to the freak overheat a while back? Either way, it doesn't bode well be it the hardware (GPU, Mobo) or software (crap driver, crap Windows kernel).

Just woke up, couldn't have dozed off for more than 15-20 minutes. Dreamt everything ended up suitably close to exploding or agonizingly ambiguous, that by the time dreams became peaceful, I could sense my mind grepping to find it's way back and sort things out. I nearly woke up screaming.

I really think my sleep patterns are setting a new level in ridiculousness.

I have a lot on my mind, one could say much to much food for though. While I try to live in the moment, for the most part, my mind never ceases, it's even worse when more on the idle side.

For some reason, I feel very tired..

When people say work, this is what comes to mind

What a typical working Thursday used to look like some years ago:

1. Stay in bed until the last minute, because I barely had any the previous night.
2. Get dressed for work in like 30-60s or something. Having shoes with nether laces nor Velcro helped.
3. Cart 4-5 buckets of cleaning supplies across a drive way, up a staircase (maybe 15-18 steps, whatever it was, it was a stretched one), and half way down a hallway. Back then they were organised into palletised "Groups", e.g. kitchen cleaning, bathroom clearing, etc; which her royal pain couldn't stand but made it easier to deploy. So I had to be driven nutso over that.
4. Clear the floors: piles inches deep of cloths, toys, food, dishes, papers, and dog faeces; much of it soaked in dog piss and often things were covered in the modern equivalent of gak. There was literally so much crap in every room, that stuff had to be scrapped off the rotting hard wood floors with an old trowel or something. I shit you not. 
5. About three trash bags and countless dustpan-fulls later, the floors had to be swept.
6. Make sure the cloths either made it into the washer, or got piled up for next week.
7. Strip and change sheets for three beds
8. Help dust every thing and wipe all the grime
9. Prep the bathrooms for clearing; e.g. ditch the towels, bring in the supplies, shake the rugs, etc.
10. Bleach and scrub two tubs and a shower; usually get cussed a blue streak over it. I don't even want to know about some of the stains. Ventilation was like a bolted window or something; think the smaller room had a fan and an open door.
11. Provide 'backup' with the mopping of the floors; usually by scrapping crap off the deck with my finger nails.
12. Cart all the supplies downstairs and try not to trip over anything, *oy*.
13. Sweep down the stairs.
14. Start cleaning the living room an the den: see above points 4, 5, 6, 8, and 11.
15. Be expected to leave 5+ Windows streak free that I'd rather throw myself out of.
16. Cart all the supplies into the kitchen.
17. Repeat above points 4 and 8 in the kitchen floors and counter tops using disinfectant. The once white counter tops were usually closer to bronze or burgundy esque colour; not even bleaching the freaking things could make much headway in getting them to *look* clean.
18. Try to put away whatever pots/pans/dishes were still clean, while ma saw to the devastated ones.
19. Help scrap out the Microwave, someone would always managed to nuke the MW instead of nuking the food.
20. Clean and scrap out the oven.
21. Scrub the walls all around the ground floor, while ma assaulted the stove top; interrupts being to get her other supplies /or help.
22. Take a moments break to lean against a wall, while ma cleaned the wc next to the kitchen. While chewing me out over anything and everything.
23. Cart the supplies back across the drive way and stuff them in the car. On a good day it might be windy, so there would be fresh air: and chasing after crap that flew away.
24. Repeat point 11 for the kitchen and associated wc. If you tried eating off the floor at any point, I would suggest a Cyanide chaser.
25. After six hours or so of that shit: go home or get dragged across a supermarket on the way.
26. Fling every ounce of clothing into the wash and scrub...
27. Grab something quick to eat and pour a drink; be thankful if my allergies settled down by then. Working out there blew through paper towels and sneezing attacks, like a hot knife through water.
28. Try and catch a few hours of game time; be happy if not interrupted every 5-15 minutes.
29. Hope to catch my favourite show, assuming we hadn't had to work even further over time...
30. Work on my studies; be happy if not interrupted every 5-15 minutes.
31. Eat dinner; usually left overs or something quick.
32. Eventually "Bed time".
33. Be glad that at long last, I'm no longer being cussed at all damn day long or treated like a pack mule.
34. Actually get cracking on my studies, various projects, and, ahem, anything but a restful sleep...
35. Finally tend to closing clandestine odds/ends, and pass out around 0500.
36. Be thankful that Friday was a different job.
37. Wish Sunday would inch by, so there would be something to do other than working on things.

My GOD, I can still see those filthy floors... the happiest day of my entire fucking life, was when they could no longer pay for the cleaning.

I swear, I have never danced like that in my entire life lol. Imagine finding 10k in gold under a rock, fuck yeah, it was that kind of joy at being let go. In my life, I've had to work three different weekly jobs like 'that' trip at the O's place. One such job was working both a full and half day every week, but at least they didn't have so many dogs like the O's and the F's did.  Some gigs were more tiring (especially the two-three years at the F's place) but I don't think any where was that bad on the grime. It was the kind of place you would feel like disinfecting your ass hole if you ever had to sit somewhere.

The jobs I get stuck doing now're days, are a total breeze by comparison. For all the years I suffered through of Thursdays like that over the past 6-7 years, that when I wake up and don't have to work on a Thurs', you can bet that I've got a sigh of relief inside. Whenever I have to pass by that particular house on the way to somewhere else, the hair on the back of my neck stands up.

If you've ever thought your house was a mess, you ain't seen jack shit until you've been in the real cleaning business.

When stuck using a dead monitor as a weight, I can't help but wonder if a comparable barbell  or kettlebell would be as easy to lift off the deck, as a 21kg CRT lol.

A note on teaching what I know

When asked to teach someone something in RvS, I make it a personal policy not to use the [SAS] server or the NTF servers for doing it; I would consider it rude. Ofc, being able to host my own private server helps, lol. I can also always tell people no, hehe, a big change over being assigned to training details.


Now that I've spent plenty of years and several thousand hours at the tactics and techniques, I obviously know how to play the game. The part I like however, is since I am free of [SAS]—I don't have to water down my techniques to that level of game play. I can just play like I want, and treat the clearing like I would if it was a real house. Damn, how many hours did I spend working on that stuff out of game... lol.

UrT, the urbanised terror

There's just something about leading the score board and having many successful 1 on 2 / 1 on 3 engagements of late, that makes me conclude that Urban Terror just isn't hard enough...

Where's the challenge???

SIGH!

In addition to the proverbial corn cob up my ass, I've finally managed to push my own button! Decided to shave for the first time in I've lost track how long, started wondering whether or not there's still a human underneath it all. And then I cut my throat lol. Over the years I've become quite adapt at shaving with a very bad mood, and never leaving a scratch; which makes this all the more infuriating. Couple paper towels and a bit of red stuff later, it's settled down.

and now I am officially pissed.

A reflection upon mindlessness

I gave up my activity, let the world slip away, and took up the call. To work, to slave, to toil. I learned that *work* means when you haven't eaten all day, when you'd rather have condoms on your shoes then have to leave such a filthy place spotless, and you know you're almost done when you started feeling like passing out cold over three hours ago, and you're done when you wouldn't care if it was a landfill, because you would still collapse face first. That was the better part of helping in this business. 

This is literal, in fact if you've ever heard my description of the worst cleaning job I've ever had to live with, you know that I've seen much worse then the above describes lolololol. That reminds me of sth a friend once said that made me laugh, but I won't repeat it to others.

Enough so much so that I know it, that the jobs we've had over the last couple years, are such a trivial breeze: it's trivial cleaning compared to what's already gone in the past.

This is also quite literal, compared to what it was, work has been a lot less terrible since about mid-2008. I like not coming home feeling like I was dragged a few miles.

Even at home, I've been treated no better then a slave, more is taken from my hide than is ever expected. Have I ever done anything, expecting a return? Maybe making a sandwich and planning to eat it too, but that's about it.

I do things for people because I care, not because I expect them to do something in return.

What am I, am I not human? Do I not breath, tire,stab me, and shall I not [eventually] die? It's inhuman. I am always expected to be of the machine, never of the flesh. Is it not where the difference lay?

Spend enough of your life being treated like something less than a human being, and you'll understand it fully.

What does it mean to care, what does it mean to me? It means everything. I'm drowning.

Which is also something that separates us from the machines.

Before me, I see the question, but know not the answer. Oh, how many sleepless nights have we argued that? It seems as if, since the beginning of time. 

Only a handful of people on earth knows what this is, and it has nothing to do with my family: other than they often make it all the more sensitive a feeling for me. Being a private thing, I'll leave it at that for an explanation, for as far as this journal is concerned.

Nothing else have I ever feared, more than that question. Nothing. My insides are rent by it.  Anything else, any danger, any pain, pales in comparison; risk of death or dismemberment, falls off the list.

The answer to that above question is the only thing in this world that scares the shit out of me. I've yet to find anything else that does, but I've also yet to discover an answer to the question.

What is the answer, will I ever know it? Or must I merely make one for myself, carve it out of my own bone and let it follow me down to sheol / That is where the future lay, somewhere well beyond the crest of the hilltops and beyond the moons gaze.

The alternative to finding an answer: being to to create one, which is as painful an issue as if to carve it out of ones own hide. Sheol is not an English word, it's of Hebrew origin: those familiar with the Old Testament will likely comprehend it. Normally (in the NIV) it is translated as the grave, but carries an association with the after life. I use in a manor in between.

Fool ensnared, entrapped dolt! There is no way out but by the beat of the drums.  

Battle....

In the side of my mind, I sense it repeating endlessly without ceasitation.

Both the question and being aware, that the only way out of this place is by brute force.

The roman, the arrow, the wing, the snake, or the jello, one of thine shall surely be my fate.

I've found 5 possible courses of action, only one person at the most, has seen that list, and only because I was about ready to bust at my seems. Being easier for my mind to refer to collections of words by names, rather than hearing paragraphs sounding in my head, obviously each has a name, that carries it's meaning to me. GOD knows, I've read it enough to recite the choices from memory.

DRAFT 0.3

If early, eat a light snack // usually ~ 0130-0230
 -> establish base line menu // inventory on the deploy
    +carbs, +proteins, -fats

NLT 0400-0500 -> init block

 Assault stretch
 // dog gets locked out of the room and door barricaded if necessary
 rotational choice:
  enhanced press ups // mine were designed for hell!

hindu push ups
  reverse crunches
  crunches
  reverse lunges
  lunges
  pistol squats
  hindu squats
  military presses
  modified deadlift // heaviest weight avail is to bulky

 first rotation: 1 minute each of 3 exercises
 2 minute intermission
 second rotation: 1 minute each of 3 exercises
 shave / brush teeth / etc

0700 -> first foot block
 running time
 + option of extending

Post -> meal 0
 proper breakfast // likely self prepaired

1000-1130 -> second foot block
 At least an hours driving OR prolonged foot travel
  -> begin with 1 hour block for pacing speed
     progress to water driven limitations; e.g.
     RTB is timed in sync to water utilisation.

Post -> meal 1
 lunch and extra water

// TBD: what the fuck to do in the afternoons...

A decent into mindlessness

It burns me inside, scorches my insides.

I gave up my activity, let the world slip away, and took up the call. To work, to slave, to toil. I learned that *work* means when you haven't eaten all day, when you'd rather have condoms on your shoes then have to leave such a filthy place spotless, and you know you're almost done when you started feeling like passing out cold over three hours ago, and you're done when you wouldn't care if it was a landfill, because you would still collapse face first. That was the better part of helping in this business. Enough so much so that I know it, that the jobs we've had over the last couple years, are such a trivial breeze: it's trivial cleaning compared to what's already gone in the past.

Even at home, I've been treated no better then a slave, more is taken from my hide than is ever expected. Have I ever done anything, expecting a return? Maybe making a sandwich and planning to eat it too, but that's about it.

What am I, am I not human? Do I not breath, tire,stab me, and shall I not [eventually] die? It's inhuman. I am always expected to be of the machine, never of the flesh. Is it not where the difference lay?

What does it mean to care, what does it mean to me? It means everything. I'm drowning.

Before me, I see the question, but know not the answer. Oh, how many sleepless nights have we argued that? It seems as if, since the beginning of time. Nothing else have I ever feared, more than that question. Nothing. My insides are rent by it.  Anything else, any danger, any pain, pales in comparison; risk of death or dismemberment, falls off the list.

What is the answer, will I ever know it? Or must I merely make one for myself, carve it out of my own bone and let it follow me down to sheol / That is where the future lay, somewhere well beyond the crest of the hilltops and beyond the moons gaze.

Fool ensnared, entrapped dolt! There is no way out but by the beat of the drums.  In the side of my mind, I sense it repeating endlessly without ceasitation.

The roman, the arrow, the wing, the snake, or the jello, one of thine shall surely be my fate.

---

As my faculties slowly find again some structure, I think it probably best, if I note the above can not be parsed by normal human. Much is rife with multiple concurrent meanings,  English ambiguity will never constrain them such, that much can be known of its [words] significance, without knowing also the many shades it may come from. Few if any know part of those, and none know them all, save that beyond the grave where all my secrets lay.

or in short, whether you think you understand anything written, you probably don't. I've always said my text reflects my brains structure, so much more so... when I'm in such a state of thought. No living soul can likely comprehend it correctly.

Nothing like tripping and nearly flying across the room, to slip start your day.
Would probably have been better to hit the wall...

I think I did enough thinking & pacing while waiting for ma to finish her sector, that I could've walked home from work and actually had lunch. Her business is ironic, I have to be done promptly or there's hell to pay, she just takes her sweet time.

There's no end to it, the concious stream of thought.  Even in my sleep, I can see the same trains of thought rolling on. For some reason a Johhny Cash song just popped into a side thought.

I've done everything I can, to try and get more driving hours. I don't ask for much, barely the air in my lungs, but when I do ask for something... it's because I need help. Compare this to my mother who will walk into my room and ask for sth to be brought out to here from the kitchen, when the freaking kitchen is on the other side of the hallway!

It feels like to be on the other side of plate glass.

To die: to sleep; no more; and by a sleep to say we end; the heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks; that flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation; devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep; to sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub; for in that sleep of death what dreams may come; when we have shuffled off this mortal coil, must give us pause: there's the respect; that makes calamity of so long life

Remind me never to read Hamlet again...

A loosed hatter

Somersault over eggshells, across the horn of thine ancestors, around perditions flame, and down the tunnel of hell. Is it not in malady, where our sanity is to be found?

Breakfast: one plain waffle because I feel about as empty as a dry well. Should stay down well enough..

Never tell me the odds....

I think I'm averaging about 20-21 hours consistently awake, slightly more or less depending on what I'm dreaming.

When things are more tolerable, I tend to sleep longer, if they're more agitative, I usually wake up sooner. It blows if you pass out around 23 and end up wide awake before 0100 even arrives \o/.


Sometimes I'll get up and try and do a bit of exercise, mostly if Willow is still sound asleep. Whatever fits into a few minutes: before scratching claws, barking, and shouting turns up. Other times I just skip it and deploy the laptop next to me so there's something to listen to. Starting to learn 94.9's daily schedule :-/. Either way there's only trifles to fill all that time. Most of the time, there's nothing in the universe except the ticking of my mind.


One thing I have noticed from experience, is I start to dream very quickly if at all. Sometimes it's like I only dozed off for five or ten minutes from when I last saw the clock, but I feel like most of the hours passed. It's been rare that I've been able to sleep uninterrupted, after a while, I just give up on trying to get back to sleep at all. I check the clock at intervals when I'm awake, and in/between bathroom trips. Got into the habit from the years I spent, having to *try* and be snoozing by a certain cut off point (that never worked) in order to be somewhere on time, and sufficient awake. Someone once joked about my lack of caffeine 8=).

Can't say the same for everyone, but my dreams tend to be very vivid. Anything I see or feel in a dream, it's sharp, it's like a smooth crystal. Whether it's the feel of sth against my skin or a train of reasoning, it doesn't matter. It can be scarily accurate at times. A lot of times if I dream about something that I've never experienced, than end up going through it later on for real, it's a lot of the same sensation, or there will be a 'how did I know that?' thought between my ears when I've never done it before, it's freaking weird at times. Reminds me of Paul Atreides and the stillsuit.


Most of my life, I've thought about my dreams as crazy or better than television, but lately, it's just something I would rather forget about as soon as my eyes flutter open. What's the point of sleeping, if you're not going to find rest? Only upside that experience can show me, is that time passes quicker and my mother shouts louder if I sleep longer. With how frequently I wake up now're days, it's not even worth that much.

After giving up on trying to go back to sleep, I loaded the computer back up, so I could at least have some music; only for the radio stream to be on the fritz. At least I was able to catch the morning show :-/.

Except for a few minor interruptions, I basically spent 7-8 hours staring at a computer screen.  Just looking at the list of options for most of it, my limbs still hurt from the lack of motion. I've compiled every possibility, I've run the math more times than I can count, it all sucks. The deadline to action off an answer passes in tee minus twelve days.

Waited to find out whether or not today's opportunity for driving would get shurked like yesterdays plans, or if ma would be cooperative. It sucks to have to computate that for hours on end. That's how you turn a mood a few shades of colour. After a bit of pushing, it finally happened. Today's time brings me up to 25.25 hours out of the required 40... if I could just get a little more than an hour a day, it would be possible. More likely I'll have a bit over 3 hours across this entire week, all *7* days, and that's double a normal week, fml... that's counting whatever happens Friday, assuming it happens, plus errands.

Applying proper weight to things, stresses life until a point where it's just a question of who gets a stroke first: me or my mother. Leaving snoring beasts be, things just inch forward like snails going up a hill. I've nothing to do but think, think, and think. Nothing.

Was given the equation today, that there's resources enough for three more fill ups this month. I ran the numbers in my head, roughly 20mpg on a 13+ gal tank with the family Ford, usually filled up around half a tank, so say just under 6gal of petrol per fill up times three. That's well over 300 miles worth of fuel and there are 5 days work remaining for the whole fucking month of June. That leaves over 200 miles of resources free for the month. All she has to do for effort is sit in the damn passenger seat, does that really take so much energy? Even worse than that, I margined like 15-20% for errors in my already conservative figures. Most of the areas that surround where we live can be reached for just over a gal. of petrol or two, ffs. Whatever she doesn't spend on fuel out of her gas money will just get pissed away some other way, I know her to well, it won't roll over into any savings or next months use. I figured that driving range in about as much time as it takes to cover 60-70m at a rate of 55 miles an hour, it take longer to figure how long it took than it takes to have figured out.

In the mean time, I get to go stir fucking crazy thinking about it. I take failure about as kindly as a Navy SEAL. How many more years???

Decision points

I reckon June 20th is as good a deadline to set for it, as any other date.

Nothing to do except stare at walls... until her royal pain wakes up, and expects to be waited on hand and foot.

Going stir crazy....

I've been in a miserable mood all day, the kind of mood where you just wish you could sink through your chair and never be heard from or seen from again. Aside from being dragged out on occasional errands, I've been cooped up here since Friday, and I ran out of stuff to get done back on Thursday. Everything else has been just busy work.


There is nothing to do until Tuesday, absolutely *_nothing_* !! Except wait on a royal pain of a mother hand and foot, while cleaning up after the dogs \o/. That's it. Other wise I may as well be passing time, staring at the **************ing ceiling. On top of that Tuesday will be a total wash out as well, if HRP doesn't cooperate with the road time.

I can't stand having nothing to do!!!!

Tried several sets of exercises while the dog was napping, and almost set a new personal speed record - from when I was still in great shape! I'm going stir crazy. What next, slamming my head into walls, or pacing the room like a caged animal?

So far I've tried to fill the day with sessions of Ghost Recon & Urban Terror, even tried a little F.E.A.R. before finally installing Quake IV. It's not even a challenge: about two hours into the game and I'm almost half way through the third or forth chapter :-/.  I haven't even been taking the game seriously. Once you've beaten a game on the super human settings, they just don't put you through the paces on the more normal settings, even if you have played them in ages. I've beaten most of the games that I own on the maximum difficulty settings over the years, from FEAR/Quakes you'd have to be insane all the way to several bouts of Halo on legendary (fun). What CoDs I own, I've beaten several times on the maximum difficultly/no recovery levels, it's boring. What next, load up Hell Revealed, and set it to it to Nightmare mode? There's so many daemons to slay on those maps even w/o respawns, that it's almost a chore to sweep the maps clean.

The only thing that's been a challenge lately is UrT, because it combines years and years of core skills (typical tdm) with too many years of close quarter tactics. The damage model is such that to master Urban Terror, you have got to get GOOD at accurate shooting under pressure, and you've got to be ready to fuse the old skills of a QuakeWhore with room entry techniques.  The failure drill is the almighty standard of survival in that game. When respawns occur every 3s, it's not even that important, unless you want to win.

Been playing video games since I was in diapers, it's become rare to ever find a game that is really hard. I don't even bother to memorise things, I just take it fresh through each time. On the odd chance I get sth new, it's rarely able to put me through my paces. The only saving grace is multiplayer.


There's just nothing left to do... :-/ I can practically feel my brain boiling. Being idle drives me out of my skull, I'm the type that has to always be working on something, ffs I would end up polishing door knobs or painting ceilings if I ever had to 'retire'.




*slams head into a support wall*

die portmaster die

Well, after 23 hours uptime, submitting several problem reports over gettext, and a heck of a lot of compiling, it seems that my laptops updating is finally complete... except for a few stubborn packages that I rarely use anyway lol.

The thing that *really* pissed me off, is portmaster. Three times (gettext, gtk20, gstreamer-plugins) I had to manually do make reinstalls in order to get the freaking packages to install correctly. However portmaster saw fit to work it's magic, it forgot to install essential things, like msgfmt, libgstpbutils-.*, and and the actual gtk-x11 library \o/. Which obviously caused other ports depending on them to pop corks during portmasters updating them.


I think I'm going to again ditch the third party updating tools, flip the bird, and go back to using my own custom updater script. All that's really needed, is implementing the topological sort over dependencies anyway... then it would be automated in essence. And it's never doubled my work load the way portmaster and portupgrade do!!!

Since I haven't much to do right now, aside from cursing at portmaster and dealing with libintl problems >_>, I've spent a bit of time importing my journal entries from Aug '09. Now that I look at it, I actually began the move from Live Journal to Blogger back in December, and I've still got two months worth of entries to go before all is done :-S.

I'll never understand why some periods of time, feel several times more exhausting then they should...

Currently my laptop is more or less in dispose, courtesy of irksome updates. In updating devel/gettext, it seems several ports were missed on the massive stream of PORTVERSION bumps, or portmaster failed horribly to notice >_>. So far I have 6 problem reports filed: on devel/libelf; lang/gawk; graphics/evince; security/gnutls; ftp/wget; and graphics/librsvg2. Most of them were only defined as using GNU Gettext when built with Native Language Support.

Some how, I can't help but think this is almost payback against the English speaking world :-o.

Stupid people are annoying.

What part of asking "How far it is" and being told "The default route is ...", is so damn confusing about the possibility of multiple routes?

Honestly how stupid is my family.

In looking closer at things, somehow I think that by cica GCC 5.0, either the GNU compiler will have imploded upon it's own weight :-o, or it will become an impressively powerful compiler, in place of an impressively portable one.

The feature set being grown, may even give old MSVCs optimization setup a good run for it's money someday, only the best tools with Visual C++ cost a few thousand dollars and GNUs is given away for free lol.

Me, I would just settle for a generally portable compiler that generates decent code, and complies with the bloody standards... So far I personally like pcc.

Just for someone special

This was a triumph.
I'm making a note here: HUGE SUCCESS.
It's hard to overstate my satisfaction.
Aperture Science
We do what we must
because we can.
For the good of all of us.
Except the ones who are dead.
But there's no sense crying over every mistake.
You just keep on trying till you run out of cake.
And the Science gets done.
And you make a neat gun.
For the people who are still alive.
I'm not even angry.
I'm being so sincere right now.
Even though you broke my heart.
And killed me.
And tore me to pieces.
And threw every piece into a fire.
As they burned it hurt because I was so happy for you!
Now these points of data make a beautiful line.
And we're out of beta.
We're releasing on time.
So I'm GLaD. I got burned.
Think of all the things we learned
for the people who are still alive.
Go ahead and leave me.
I think I prefer to stay inside.
Maybe you'll find someone else to help you.
Maybe Black Mesa
THAT WAS A JOKE.
HAHA. FAT CHANCE.
Anyway, this cake is great.
It's so delicious and moist.
Look at me still talking
when there's Science to do.
When I look out there, it makes me GLaD I'm not you.
I've experiments to run.
There is research to be done.
On the people who are still alive.
And believe me I am still alive.
I'm doing Science and I'm still alive.
I feel FANTASTIC and I'm still alive.
While you're dying I'll be still alive.
And when you're dead I will be still alive.
STILL ALIVE

 STILL ALIVE

Petty thoughts

In my mothers whining that nothing she ordered done yesterday before heading out the door was done, except for keeping the puppy out of trouble, which she made explicitly clear as priority numero uno by barking at me until she finally walked out the door, thus letting me get things done in the first place.

I can't help but think that I'm working on day three of finishing something I should have finished two days ago in less than an afternoon, if I had had the luxury of being able to work on things in the first place.

And that I'm currently on month 6 of trying to get a driver license, a task my mother has droned out to this length, when it should have been completed within a couple weeks... I didn't bother to mention that.

Jokes sometimes place the yoke on you

In writing a small module, that in part of it looks like this:

    switch(function parameter of some enum type) {
      case SomeEnumValue:
        handle it
        break;
      // done for each enumerated value
      default:

        // crash program? *evil grin*
        2/0;
     }

    // use the function parameter

This was written as a joke to allow me to test the function by forcing the compiler to pass an invalid integral value, which would trip the default label. Obviously the final code needs to do something besides float around oft' undefined behaviour, but one has to have a little fun in idiot proofing your code ;).

The funny thing was instead of crashing, it continued on and triggered the (testing) assert() checking the function parameter, which then caused the program to terminate. Even more enjoyable was changing it to `int x = 2/0;`, causes the program to halt due to a floating point exception. Someday I need to thumb through the C++ standard and take a look.


Oh well, I had planned to throw something from stdexcept anyway, or carry on with reduced functionality; so it's no real loss lol.

Tried to get through work by focusing on code, because I know if I focused on anything else, I'd likely be nuts by the end of it. Main problem was my body screaming "Sit down and eat ferociously" the whole time :-/. I've been trying to adapt a friends advice about eating more regularly, but still the mornings leave a lot to be desired.

Most of the times I'm seriously hungry before mid afternoon, it's so early out, I've basically have to weigh between making to much noise and roughing it. If I wake up her royal pain (or the dogs who then wake her up), I get cussed at for the rest of the day, and much more dentimental side effect of it: not being able to get stuff done, while she sleeps :-(. I need to think up something to eat early on in the day (eh, night, morning, whatever) without getting compromised. Gotta put those ninja skills to use...

Yesterday I tried playing a bit of Urt for a change, but soon took a break to sit down and read. Got  so fatigued that I ended up stretching out for a nap.  There's an Italian word that comes to mind, the only translation to English I've ever been given, is generally like walking into walls / staggering like a zombie. That kind of tired :-/.

I tried going back to sleep, after waking solidly up around 0200. I keep dreaming of combat or coding. I rarely dream about code.... lol. My brain is rubber banding all over lately. It's like take a bean, throw it in a can, and start shaking: that's what my train of thought looks like.

Did manage to get something 'somewhat' productive done yesterday, and the Yorkshire brigade has finally returned home(!) so that's two less to drive me batty. I made a list of potential driving destinations, there's about 11 items on the list. Most are in the 30-50km range, but there's actually nothing to do there except drive back lol. The only real entry on the list with a purpose for going, are the nearest (serious) computer shops: over 100km away. After a decade of living here, I can understand why there are so few geeks in this burg \o/. Also on the list was one destination that ma has expressed interest in over the months: Savanna. That's more than 360km away by a straight line... that would put an indent in the driving hours I need. Right now things are about 21.5 hours total, out of the 40 hours required. I got totally shafted for night driving over this now past weekends 'extra' work.


Spent some time trying to zoom in on HTML5, Ruby on Rails, and studying the Boost & POCO C++ libraries more closely, when I an keep my mind straight enough to deal with it. To all over the place to really do much coding lately, :-( :-( :-(.  I find RoR intently interesting, even though I generally despise web development as an exercise in annoyance.

Only have two days work for the week, and today should be fairly short; tomorrow is most of the day gone. I'm hoping maybe Fri/Mon, maybe her royal pain might take a crack at the desintiation list I prepped. Within about an hours notice, I could do some bit of route planning. If nothing gets done, I'm not going to have any recourse left, except to start applying contingency plans from a few weeks ago, and live with being driving out of my fucking mind over it. If I can't get help with the driving, there is only one way to go: by foot.


I really need a long vacation... something without stress jacking, something that can actually be peaceful. What was the last time, I actually could get more than a few weeks running at a normal persons stress margin? I wish to forget most of 2007..