Just thought I'd write a little addendum to the day since I just got back to the room and am not tired (being past the 11-o-clock window of sleep opporunity). Tonight was just awesome. I went to the QSA showing of "But I'm a Cheerleader" which, to my surprise, had an awesome turnout. And many people I'd never seen before (from Elisabeth and Sarah C's hall in Wharton, I suspect) and were all so cool and interesting and I hope come to future QSA meetings. Even though people laughed at the cheering scene at the end.

But I left with a warm glow and Stef (who I convinced to go with me. She'd never seen it before) and went to The Lodge to play Cranium with the Lodgettes (Kara, Crescent, Felicia, Stef, and Kate) plus Evan, Brig, and Kate's sister who is visiting. For the record, Stef, Brig, and my team won. We were a force to be recconned (wow. How do I spell that?) with, especially once we got over our horrible start that left the other teams in what seemed an insurmountable lead. Not that I am compettetive. My guesses are so wierd, yet I'm always so sure of them. For example, guessing "roadkill!" for a drawing whose hint was "place" and saying, "oh I know that! One of theose monkeys that the organ men have that are mechanical" as Felicia tried to act out magnetism.

Then we broke into two teams and played "password", which is a VERY interesting game because you get a word and have to give a word to your team that will cue them to come up with the word you recieved. Then, if your team misses, the other team gets to try with one person coming up with a word to cue that same word you were trying to cue your team to guess. But the effect is cumulative, since the other team heard your team's clue and incorrect guess. I'm not sure if that makes sense, but it requires a lot of deliberation and Felicia and I got VERY serious about it and strategized, saying things like, "well, Kara said, 'Hellspawn' and Evan said, 'Satan', and I would think 'Hellspawn' would mean demon, not devil, but Kara makes wierd connections and might think of 'Hellspawn' for devil and Evan said, 'Satan' which is DEFINITELY the devil". And of course I was compettetive and neurotic. It was SO fun, and I realized that I'd missed hanging out with them like that and how much fun it was.

Then, at about 2 am, having played a fairly clean game of word association, the group broke up and everyone went to their respective dorms/beds and Sorelle and I went to Mertz and talked til about now (or 15 minutes ago when I started this entry). And that was SO good because it was the first time we'd gotten to have a "real" talk since I've been back and sometimes I think I need to be reminded of how great it is when we do.

So now I'm just feeling good, truly reimersed in the best parts of life here. And I think I'm going to have good dreams now if I can get to sleep. I have to figure out what time is acceptable for me to wake up. Am I the only one here who thinks I should get at least nine hours a night, more if I'm especially tired, and at LEAST 7.5? I think so. I don't know how everyone else does it. I can't function on the amount of sleep I hear most people talk about. Ah well. My Mom left a message on my voicemail that I got when I returned that said "just calling to say your webjournal rocks" and that was just the perfect ending to the evening. So I'll leave it at that. Kind of conceited, I suppose. But inadvertantly so, and that's some excuse.

Oh! I came up with a word:

Doobious: the state of being paranoid while high.

Pretty good, huh? And the movie Local High School Outreach is watching with (gasp) a local high school is a go. We have a date and an IC booking. I can't believe it. It's awesome. Well, I think I've fulfilled my quota of happy journalings for a while, so good night.

Story (also an excercise in two problem-solving techniques):

Brig had to move these books from Cornell to Parrish for "Learning for Life" so, being the concerned roommate (and kind of hoping she'd buy me a chai later), I said I'd help before the Tourguide meeting (we're hiring, by the way. I really want to be an ambassador, then you get to INTERVIEW kids. What a power trip! And a service to the school, of course). So Brig pushed this large cart of books to Parrish and I kind of skipped next to her and tried to look philanthropic. So we get to the freight elevator and put the cart in longways, so part of the edge sticks out and we can't close the grating all the way, but we think "eh, how bad could it be?" Well, we close it and push "B", and it goes for a second, then gets stuck. AND we can't open the doors to even GET to the stuff. So we go to the basement and there is about .75 feet of space for us to reach into the elevator. This space is about 8 feet up in the air.

This is when Brig becomes McGyver (did anyone else's Mom LOVE that show?) [Oh, and side note: I'm listening to "Petit Mort" by Erin Mckeown and I LOVE that song]

Brig: Okay, we need to get chairs.

Me: Let's call public safety.

(We get chairs.)

Brig: We just need to turn the cart so it's sideways.

(We, standing on the arms of the chairs on our tiptoes, attempt with the limited room and leverage available, to turn the cart, and succeed in wedgeing it against the door)

Me: I bet public safety has a key to get this open.

Brig: (thoughtfully, very Mcguyver) No, if we can rip the boxes with our bare hands and somehow get the books OUT of the elevator, the cart will be light enough for us to flip it on its side and get the elevator to move again.

Me: Why don't we just get help?

(We get a table. Meanwhile, we are walking back and forth in front of the Student Employee Office carrying various pieces of furniture and looking more and more dishevelled. Brig stands on the table and rips open each box, hands the magazines to me, and I stack them on the floor. Then we both get on the table to try to overturn the cart. It gets wedged again. We are beginning to see the physical impossibility of our task. Or at least I am. Brig is trying to make an explosive out of an apple, a toilet paper roll, and an aluminum can)

Me: Let's call public safety.

Brig: No! We can do this! We just need to get a broom to pull the top of the cart over so we can turn it.

(We get a broom and Brig attempts to first hook the top of the cart while I push the bottom, then to push the bottom back so it will overturn. Both tries are unsuccessful and meanwhile people are walking by the entrance and we are standing on a table and Brig appears to be prodding the top of the freight elevator with a broom.)

Me: Let's call public safety.

Brig: (Resigned) Fine.

(We put away chairs and table)

Brig: Wait, we never tried me climbing up into the elevator!

Me: Wanna try?

Brig: Do you think I can fit?

Me: (Shrug)

Brig: We'll need a chair on top of a table so I can get up there.

(We bring back table)

Brig: Wait, what if I get stuck?

Me: (Shrug)

(We call public safety and Brig spends an hour lurking next to the freight elevator and looking suspicious)

And such is the excitement of my life. Not much else to report. I need to stop telling people about the Microsoft interview, but it's the only thing I can think of that's going on with me. But it's not a good idea because first, it's usually off topic and second, when and if I don't get it, it'll mean I'll have to slink around in infamy for a while. And I need to take a nap so I can stay up and watch movies tonight.

I finally gave up trying to come up with clever and unique pseudonyms for Jackie and Danny and just linked them. Hopefully I'll get some inspiration when the pressure is off. Okay, time for bed now. I swear. Check my e-mail and go to bed. And maybe watch an episode of the Simpsons on my computer. But then definitely bed.

Hmmmm, haven't posted in a couple days. I led the "Using Unix I" sessions with Sorelle tonight and last night. They went pretty well; it's very basic. I can't decide if the highlight was when I was helping someone find a directory and got completely lost or when I gave everyone the wrong address for "local-staff" and had Sorelle correct me. And, in the vein of leading, I also facilitated the "Gaydar" discussion at QSA and, though I loved the meeting and everyone there was SO cool, I was dissapointed in my ability to lead a discussion. I'm begginning to think I picked the topic just so I could talk about how good I think my Gaydar is (a recent development). But it was still awesome (the meeting, not my Gaydar), as always. I love QSA discussions. I just wish I were a better facilitator, that I had better prompts and questions for the group. It makes me feel like such a failure when I can't lead well. But I need to stop dwelling on it, or so Brig tells me. Anyway, the Local High School Outreach meeting was fun and productive and just made me happy. Everyone in it is awesome and so easy to work with. It was a big night for leading, I guess. I wonder if I'm too much of a distractor to be a leader. I'd rather try to make people laugh.

CS75 is going to be tough. I think I lost a lot of my belief in my computer ability last semester (which should help me with the Microsoft Interview.) Today the class laughed uproariously over a misspelling of "Chomski"; I sometimes wonder what I'm doing in there. But Tia is great. Brig is reading a British version of Cosmo (she found in the hall) which is quite graphic. I just think that's worth noting.

I wish I had more "of note" things to say, but I really should go to sleep so I can get up and have breakfast with Brig tommorow (I love Sharples Breakfast, but I finally decided I don't get up early enough to justify the 20 meal-plan). I'm excited to watch "But I'm a Cheerleader" for the millionth time tomorrow night @ 8 in the IC (no, that is not a plug). Oh! And I went to my first SQU meeting in over a year last night. It was ... not nearly as scary as I expected. The discussion was fine, but when people started mingling I got so nervous ("Ahh! Social situation! Social situation!" alarms blaring) and almost left but was restrained and ended up hanging out there for a while, which went as well as can be expected. I just can't take when everyone breaks off into these little groups and you end up wandering around because even if you KNOW people you can't break into the conversations and you keep thinking "AH!! Go talk to someone! You're standing alone!" and that just makes it even HARDER to join a conversation group and so goes the cycle. Or maybe I'm the only one who feels that way. I know that isn't true, but everyone else is always talking to someone. And then people say, "yeah! I didn't have anyone to talk to either!" and I think, "then where WERE you?! If I had seen you by yourself I would have talked to you!". Anyway, I guess that's all. This is such a disjointed, feel sorry for myself entry. But hey, that's the kind of gal I am.

Oh God, Microsoft e-mailed me today. They gave me four possible interview dates (all in the VERY beginning of February) and asked me to pick two or three. I'm so nervous I can barely stand it. Coupled with that is the knowledge that I have no chance at this job. So I know I should just treat this as "an experience", but I can't dismiss the nagging "don't fail! Don't fail!". And I still haven't gotten that book I'm supposed to read. But they wouldn't put the money into flying me and putting me up in a hotel if they didn't think I had a real possibility, right? What percentage of interviewees get hired!?!!?!

Microsoft Interviewers, if you're reading this, I want more than anything to work for you. Please, please hire me. I have no moral qualms. I'll work insane hours. I'll do anything. It's been a lifelong dream. Please, please hire me.

Oh, and I saw "Trembling Begore God", which was well done (of course) and interesting especially since I can't grasp religious conviction at all. I'm already putting off my work. How sad is that? I just have a play to read and I'm already thinking "can't I do it LATER?" (Sigh)

I'll admit it, I'm the only Swattie that wasn't excited about my classes and didn't have "seven classes that I REALLY want to take, but can't fit into my schedule." I have four classes that I figure I'll like and I do very little narrowing. But, so far, my classes are shaping up to be awesome. I had "Feminist Theatre" with Raima, who is so genuinely sweet, and this will be my third straight semester taking a class from the Wiliamson-Evans couple (Fairy Tales with her, Grendel's with him). They're going to think I'm obsessed. I should try to alternate between them for the rest of my time here, really make 'em nervous.

The class is small, all-female (sadly, why don't guys take these classes? It's frustrating, though I kind of understand. I would feel uncomfortable taking a "Macho Theatre" class that was mostly men, though that's not analogous at all because women can be macho too but STEREOTYPICALLY only men are thought to be macho and STEREOTYPICALLY only women are thought to be feminist Anyway ...) and the plays are going to be good reads. "Fires in the Mirror", "For Colored Girls", "The Children's Hour" (which I have really wanted to see as a movie and didn't know was a play). So I'm pumped for that.

And "Playwrighting" with Roger Babb, who is such a character, quirky and unassuming (a tough combination to pull off). And he says, "fucked up" alot, which I love. The class is full of cool, funny people, which is great and a little intimidating. But the actual playwrighting won't be, I don't think, which is good because my character-development skills are just about nill. My basic goal in playwrighting is to write plays that knock the audience off-balance so they won't notice that my characters have no depth. Most of my ideas involve either directly confronting the audience or spraying them with large amounts of water.

I was generally surprised by the class's skill. Sorelle, who has always underplayed her writing skills, wrote an awesome dialogue that managed to consist almost entirely of asking "what the fuck are you talking about?". We heard part of a dialogue in class from "Duck Variations" (by David Mamet. See "State and Maine', it's the cleverest, best movie) which Jedd read wonderfully and was HILARIOUS. It turned out to be Jewish humor (which explains why I liked it so much, being straight, jewish, and hardworking and all) and we get to read all of it for the next class. So, so far, classes are turning out to be MUCH better than expected. So much that I am more seriously considering the English major possibility. Besides, if I get the job at Microsoft, what do I need to major in CS for? And I'd still take CS classes, I just wouldn't worry about my grades. As the Sophomore paper looms ahead like an angry gorilla in the academic mist.

We'll see how classes go tomorrow. Everyone loves "Intro to Ed", but I'm skeptical. I just don't think I'll be engaged (I mean interested; I'm not taking Ed to find a husband. That's why I take CS); I'm really not a Social Science person. All that reading of large amounts of information and synthesizing it into coherent thought is beyond me. Give me a random point and tell me to jump off from it and synthesize a lot FROM it and I'm fine. And CS 75, well, I'm very shaky on my belief in my CS skills and CS-ness at the moment, so I'm not sure how that is. But who knows? It worked out today. And I heard something about history and repettition, so we'll see if that story checks out.

PLUG: QSA meeting Thursday. It's on "Gaydar", which is just a fun and interesting topic that I think everyone has something they can say about it. And I'm leading the meeting. So, if your'e reading this and you go to Swat, come. The meetings are really relaxed and social and interesting. Not intimidating at all. I could have tried to make this announcement rainbow, but that's too much work. Besides, I have to make signs for it now anyway.

And that's all she wrote (maybe I should have called my Oniline Journal that, but I like my title better. It's more personal.)

Alright, the new has triumphed over the old, so the past will be eradicated in a wash of HTML code and grandious language. Today I went sledding for the first time with Sorelle, Cathy, Kim, and Cadelba. I have always been to afraid to sled. I even got one of the circular plastic ones for Xmas when I was a kid, but could never work up the courage to use it. But today I overcame my fears and slid, screaming, "we're going to hit the tree, dammit! We're going to hit the tree!" down the hill by Parrish. It was AWESOME and I can't wait for it to snow more so I can find an even steeper hill. And tonight we had an awesome Comotion meeting with a rousing speech by Sarah C (which started with, "guys, this is the time! This is the moment!") and involved me going on and on about how much I want to work at Microsoft and recounting in excruciating detail every moment of the preliminary interview. And everyone was incredibly supportive, especially considering that interning at Microsoft would make me unable to participate in the camp this summer. Very understanding of a lifelong dream. But Addie told me I was "a riveting story teller", which no one has EVER told me. I am well-known for my rambling, pointless stories that end with me trailing off and an awkward, empty silence. Just like the time when that guy was like, "hey!" and I was like, "what?" and it was so weird ...

Battle of the Commenters!!
Should I switch to the new one? I like it better, it shows how many comments there are and has more options. My God, I should go to sleep. This is ridiculous.

I'm so tired I have a headache, but I can't fall asleep. So I've fixed this web page, browsed others, and fretted about the coming morning. There is no hope, it seems. I'm time-zoned out. Dammit. Maybe I'll just stay up all night. I should really read up on vi (a text editing program like emacs). It occurs to me that the only thing I did to prepare for training was learn more Unix, and that neither of the books I was supposed to read covered that. I'm a winner alright. Microsoft should hire me now before a rival company snatches me up and crumbles their monopoly.

Epilogue: After missing Ali like two ships in the snowy, cold night, I spent 2 hours waiting in the cold with a growing number of Swatties for a phantom van. Finally, when 6 of us had decided to rent a limo (seriously), the shuttle showed up, and all of us crowded in with luggage, cramped and crowded. But it was warm and beautiful and heading home. And I'm back and already hung out with Jacob and Cathy and people e-mailed me and are linking to my blog (and I will link to them once I come up with appropriate names) and it is awesome to be back. Even if I have to be at Sysadmin training at 9 am. And I'm on night-owl West Coast time, so we'll see how that goes. Oh, and I got my baggage no problem. I have to sleep. I HAVE to. Mind over matter, that's all.

The bad, bad news is that Brig's flight was canceled (her only acceptable excuse for not meeting me at baggage claim) and she will not be here 'til tomorrow. (Sigh). The room is so empty without her.

This is really just a feel-good story, which makes it infinitely superior to all other entries heresofar (bet you didn¡¯t know that was word. Philistine).

I never bought a class ring. Going to a Sacred Hearth school (all girls, Catholic, with a uniform) for eight years, I heard countless stories of people recognizing the crest of the burning heart on some traveling alum¡¯s ring and letting her into the roped-off part of a Church or bringing her to play pool with the Pope or something. But I never thought it was worth the two hundred bucks, especially since I was basically guaranteed to lose it in a week. But today, I had a recognition experience of my own, much cooler than any ring could promise.

I was at the connecting airport, in a huge hurry to connect because my earlier plane had been late (they said it was a mechanical problem, I suspect it was due to my baggage, but I¡¯ll explain that later). But I hadn¡¯t eaten, so I ran to Mcdonalds. After giving my order, I hefted my mini-backpack onto the counter to get my money out.

¡°I like your ribbon.¡± The guy behind the counter noted, looking at the rainbow ribbon pinned to my drawstring.

I smiled broadly. This is great! ¡°Thanks!¡± I thought of telling him about the pink triangle I¡¯d lost over break, then realized it was possible he just thought it was pretty, but didn¡¯t know what it stood for. I didn¡¯t feel like bringing it up if that were the case.

He then stopped, looked questioningly at me, and said, ¡°what does it mean?¡±

Damn. Damn! He just thought it was pretty. Damn! I squared my shoulders and said explanatorily, ¡°it stands for gay pride.¡±

He smiled, ¡°oh, you¡¯re also part of the family. I¡¯m a local queen¡±

I wanted to jump up and down and dance. ¡°Yes!¡± I gushed and told him about the lost triangle. ¡°It¡¯s cool to meet a sibling.¡± (metaphor fully extended)

I was waiting for my food and he asked where I was from. I said Seattle heading to Philly. And he gave me his name and said if I were ever in the area, I could mention it at any club and they¡¯d know him and tell me where he was. He also gave me another name, a guy (boyfriend?) who would know where to find him. I just grinned my head off, saying, ¡°great! Thank you so much! Have a great day!¡± And I skipped off thinking ¡°we are fa-mi-ly!¡± It was just so cool. That¡¯s never happened to me before. It combines my two favorite things: queer people and random connections with strangers. Yay for the rainbow connection! And for my little rainbow fish in the sand.*

Oh, and to explain my worries with baggage. When I went into the airport, I immediately checked my bags and got in this long line with all these people with lots of baggage. After waiting 15 minutes, I realized that I was the only person with just my carry-ons and found out from a security person that this line was for baggage to be checked and I should go straight to the gate. Phew. Then, while waiting in security, all the fears overtook me: Why didn¡¯t I have to stand in that line? Should I have gone there first? Will my bags go on the plane? What if they cancel the flight because of ¡°unidentified, unscreened baggage¡± and trace it to me and call me up in front of all the passengers to reprimand or arrest me (I keep thinking of the guy who ran through security and shut down the airport. Is this how he started?¡±)?

But I got on both flights no problem, we¡¯ll see what happens when I get to baggage claim. Of course, I¡¯ve already lost my baggage claim checks, but not my ID this time. A step up. On top of these worries, I realized one of my friends slipped pot into my mini-backpack at some point over break and I don¡¯t think I ever took it out, so I went through the entire thing hoping to find it and (damn) throw it out. No luck (I guess ¡°luck¡± is a questionable term). But security didn¡¯t even look in my bags, anyway. I also realized I had Brig¡¯s Epi-pen and no good excuse to keep them from confiscating it since I don¡¯t have an allergy necklace.

So I was in a general panic at both airports: hands shaking, mind racing, shallow breathing. So the rainbow pin thing was just a godsend (or I guess, chaos-fluke would be a better term?) and now I¡¯m on the plane and feeling pretty good. And writing over a page (according to Word), which I always do when I fly (now I have somewhere to do with it it! Rationalization!). My mind goes on narration overdrive in airports and airplanes, for some reason. Yep, I¡¯m one of those people with laptops on planes (a distant cousin of the cel-phone user in restaurants) typing away and bobbing my head to music. Currently ¡°Modest Mouse¡± (damn you, Ali). So I guess I¡¯ll sign off and post this when I get back to the room (hopefully with both suitcases). Wow, back at Swat. Scary and awesome. I hope I¡¯m ready.

Question: In the song ¡°Discovery Channel¡±, when he sings ¡°yes, I¡¯m Siskel, yes, I¡¯m Ebert, and I¡¯m giving two thumbs up¡±, what¡¯s the second thumb? Seriously. I can¡¯t figure it out.


* Colors courtesy of/ pirated from Ester's source code. How's that for irony?

PS I got a new watch! I lost mine recently, having already broken the band and resorted to hanging it from my belt loop. I'm one of those people who ALWAYS has to know what time it is, so, for the last month, I've had to relax and let go of the concept of time altogether (which was not as hard as you might think, but doesn't work so well with a class schedule). I've had the same type of watch for more than 4 years (a cheap digital, multifunction from NY) because no other one ever came close. But today I was proven wrong. Today I got a watch that NOT ONLY has alarm, timer, stop watcher, and blue light, but shows the other functions in a small area above the current time, so you can keep watching the timer or stopwatch while still knowing what time it is. I swear, this watch is a thing of beauty. Sadly, it's also a more "female" watch, a circle instead of my previous square (those distinctions are from catalogs, by the way. I don't usually assign genders to watches. Defensive defensive). But it IS really cute.

Well, it's the last night in Bellevue so I feel like I should write something commemorative. Mom, Eve, and I were GOING to see improv and were on a tight schedule. So of course the first place we picked to eat dinner was closed. So we went to Denny's (motto: "the Nation's Fall-Back Restaurant". Pop quiz: what newspaper comedian uses the "motto" line?) and told the guy we were in a rush, then decided to skip improv and go somewhere nicer, so I went to the waiter to cancel our order. And Mom says I'm not assertive. I was SO assertive. Well, not so much assertive as I lied and said we got the time wrong and our event started in 20 minutes and I'm so sorry but we had to leave. But six of one, half a dozen of the other. So we high-tailed it out of there, Eva hissing "run. RUN!" and went to "the Keg", which was AWESOME. Our waiter was one of the best we've ever had, and Eva's salmon was dry, so we got it free. What more could you ask for? It was a good ending to my visit, just sitting and talking for an hour and a half.

So we get back and Mom starts reading from this "Survival" book for sex and dating to Eva, including how to get out of a bad date (written by a CIA agent) and how to get away with an affair (written by a marriage counselor. Who else would know?). It's actually quite interesting. Some things I would think of, some things I wouldn't. Like to get out of a bad date, you should find out the person's religion or ethnicity and make fun of it (I might think of that, though Swat sensitivity would keep me from doing it) or drop matches on your plate (okay, I would NEVER think of that). And to get away with an affair, don't start talking about things you learned from the person with whom you're having the affair. I feel like I would know that, somehow. That's something I would watch for. Were I to have an affair. Speaking of, my Mom's current number-one pick for me to date is Brig. "Mom, she's straight." "Elizabeth, you never know." I've given up trying to explain the "straight roommates" thing to her. Now I just nod and say "okay. I'll get to it."

They have a commercial for a Johnny Carson DVD collection. I shouldn't be allowed to watch TV late at night. It's only 2 easy payments of 24.99 AND there's an extra video bonus. I'm an infomercial maker's dream. Alright, I suppose now I should change this to East Coast time and go to sleep, though my blanket and sheet is packed, so I'm sleeping under my matress slip. I have to get up at (sigh) 8 am.

WOOHOO!! (One webpage, an uploaded picture, and countless hours later) I got my objectifying background to work! It's all coming together. Excellent ...

And we have commenting.

Okay, Jack Handy just rocks. He is my personal hero (yes, I know he's not a person, but a collection of writers, smartass):
...
"You know one thing that will make a woman mad? Just run up and kick her in the butt. (P.S. This also works with men.)"
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"Just as bees will swarm about to protect their nest, so will I 'swarm about' to protect my nest of chocolate eggs."
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"If I could come back as a horsefly, I think my favorite thing would be to land on someone's lip. Even if they smash you, ick , you're all over their lip."
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"Contrary to popular belief, the most dangerous animal is not the lion or tiger or even the elephant. The most dangerous animal is a shark riding on an elephant, just trampling and eating everything they see."
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"Instead of having "answers" on a math test, they should just call them "impressions," and if you got a different "impression," so what, can't we all be brothers?"
...
"Is there anything more beautiful than a beautiful, beautiful flamingo, flying across in front of a beautiful sunset? And he's carrying a beautiful rose in his beak, and also he's carrying a very beautiful painting with his feet. And also, you're drunk."
...
So it's almost 2 and I know I should go to sleep and start weening myself onto a semi-normal schedule, but I'm not at all tired. I should learn how to spell weening. I think it's with an 'a' somewhere? Ah well. Wow, now I am just posting like mad. I wonder if having access to a forum like this is just too much for me. And maybe I need to get some sleep. C'mon, body, let's get tired here! The exclamation points can't be helping things. Maybe ellipsis will work better ...

Well, first things first: the interview this morning (which WAS over the phone, by the way. Alison e-mailed me back this morning) turned out to be a preliminary one to see if they want to do the big, scary one. To calm myself down as I was waiting for the call (I kept picking up the phone to make sure it was on the hook. Yeah, I like how I think.) I watched this episode of "Friends" I taped where they had different lives. But then I realized I probably shouldn't turn my brain to mush. So I just sat on my bed in my pajamas and tried not to freak out.
...
The phone call actually went quite well for all that worry. She asked me some interesting scenario questions I hadn't prepared for (such as "If I were to ask you to build a basketball hoop in my office, how would you approach it?" which I had a LOT of fun with talking about whether she'd be sitting or standing when shooting, if she wanted a score board, whether the hoop might be different shapes to look more artistic and fit in with her decor). I said I wanted to be a "Program Manager", which is not a programmer, but someone who runs the project and makes the big decisions (oooh, power). She asked why I wanted to work for Microsoft, which was interesting, because I'm not sure exactly why, I just know that I DO, and is also interesting having defended it against philanthropists' (which I first spelled "philanthroper's") attacks at Swat. Honestly, I want to work there for the experience, because it'll be engaging, and because they pay well. But I felt pretty good about the half-hour conversation and she said she'd e-mail me in the next week to say if they want to interview me.
...
And then I checked my e-mail about ten minutes later and SHE HAD ALREADY E-MAILED ME TO SAY THAT THEY WANT ME TO INTERVIEW!!! So, of course I'm ecstatic, but, more than that, VERY nervous. Alison said I would have to fly back, which made me think "uh oh, can I use my United coupons?", but of course I just agreed eagerly. Then Mom said they fly you back AND set you up in a hotel, which, if it's true, is awesome and all the more nerve-wracking. It's so climactic and all-or-nothing-ish. they'll contact me in the next 2 weeks to figure out details. In the mean time, Alison is sending me a book on Software Design to help give me a foundation and I have to prep myself without going insane, which may not be possible. I can't believe how much I want this job. But at least I passed the first part. Though I'm unsure how assuaged I'm supposed to be by that; I wonder what percentage of interviewees they hire? AHHHH!! Must ... not ... become ... neurotic. Ay. It's going to be a long couple weeks.
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Another important announcement is that my mother found this site. No detective work this time by Sherlock Holman, this was the only possible site name I had given her, so she typed it in 2 days ago. And I hadn't given her instructions not to read it, so she had free reign. It was interesting, considering the recently-deleted part of the entry was in large part about her. We talked about it and what she thought and privacy and I decided that when I make this public, I am not allowed to write anything personal about anyone else. Which is only fair and basically what I was thinking anyway. It was actually more of an issue of whether I wanted to MAKE it public if it meant I had to change my entries. Mom's so cool, though. She said that I should write whatever I want about her and that what she thinks should not be the determinant. This is the woman who, when making my gyno appointment, was asked, "is she pregnant?", replied, "I don't think that's any of my business. Ask her." But I wouldn't want personal things written about ME publicly, so that's the issue. The point of this is, though, that I'm glad she found it and read it because it helped me make some decisions about what I can and can't write and decide to let people read it. I feel like this is more personal than some other online journals, but it isn't anything I have a problem with people knowing. I have big privacy issues, but it's with only certain topics (specifically those that make me feel/seem vulnerable) and everything else is kind of a free-for-all. I wonder how much of an exhibitionist that makes me. But no more than it makes the readers voyeurs. Hmmmmmmm.
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Well, it makes me longwinded, anyway, so I'll end this. But not before I recommend the book I borrowed from B&N (my new library. Not borrowed like "stole", borowed like "bought and will return when finished in just-as-new condition. And I fully admit to being evil.), "Me Talk Pretty One Day". Still jittery and melted from my interview, I finally settled into one of their comfy plush chairs and read the book that both Tess and Sera have recommended so heartily. It's awesome. Entertaining, reflective, and well-written. Just a nice read. It makes me wish I'd kept it for the plane. I am not reading ANY MORE of "Lolita" since I had a dream my dad was coming on to me. Creepy creepy. That book she have a warning on it "should not be read by the highly suggestable" ("or high", I guess, who wants to hallucinate about that?). Oh, and I saw "Amelie", which I loved, but had a few complaints I won't voice here if you haven't seen it. "You". Who is "you", anyway? My figment audience. Alright, I have to e-mail the people I've been too nerve-wracked to write to the past few days.

Right. So it finally hit me that maybe Alison meant a PHONE interview. Hence her giving a date and time (but no location) and saying she'd call me. Right. She is going to think I am a moron for e-mailing her to ask where the interview is. And I spent today preparing pointlessly for questions she couldn't possibly ask. Oh, and straightening my hair. Let's not forget that. Wow, I am a genius and a half. They'd be fools to let a catch like me slip between their finger tips. And I skipped the Open Mike. Argh. I can't wait to get back to Swat where life is a simple scramble to finish the work I should have done before.

I am so scared about this Microsoft interview tomorrow I can't see straight. I spent the day doing logic puzzles in a frantic attempt to jump-start my thinking abilities before tomorrow. And Alison (the recruiter) won't e-mail me back and she hasn't called. Most of me is hoping the interview is canceled. I would be so much more ready with some Sys Admin and CS 75 under my belt. Most of me knows that isn't true. But anything for me not to have to go there tomorrow. One of the logic puzzles online was actually attributed to a Microsoft Interview. It was actually one of the few I could do, but STILL. Oh God Oh God Oh God.
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I'm skipping the Open Mike. I'm too nervous; it's just another stress getting there. Oh, how symbolic. Art sacrificed to materialism. And it's SO worth it. Mom thinks maybe this not calling me thing is a test to see my problem-solving abilities. Maybe I should have gone to the Open Mike. Take me out of myself and my neurosis.
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But, on the up side, I straightened my hair for the phantom interview and it looks pretty good. So I've got vanity down, we'll see how commercialism goes tomorrow.
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"It's easy to sit there and say you'd like to have more money. And I guess that's what I like about it. It's easy. Just sitting there, rocking back and forth, wanting that money." - Jack Handy

Dammit, I can't get the commenting thing to work. Argh. Frustration frustration. And I have this Microsoft interview tommorow (the technical tommorow: Thursday) that I am scared stiff about. According to Francis, it's not one interview, but FIVE with tough problem-solving and logic questions. He was straight with me (and I was queer with him. ha ha.) about me not having much programming experience, which was good for me, but made me feel pretty crappy and nervous. I need to go in without expectations. If I don't get it, so be it.
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Today Meliss and her roommate stopped by and we went and had lunch with Tess at a medium-expensive Thai place (read: in Redmond. Read: I like to say "read:"). Afterwards, Tess dropped me off after stopping to get new tires and we had a talk about sex and gynocology. Another time when I forget how loud my voice is.
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Now it is 3:30 am and I am keeping with my "writing things people can't read" policy which is so well thought-out. Maybe I'll just keep doing this until I stop caring and then I'll tell people where it is.
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I took a five-hour nap and now I can't sleep. And now I'm e-mailing the "Reblogger" guy instead of figuring it out myself. Maybe I shouldn't be a CS person. Maybe I should learn the actual term instead of using "CS person", which sounds SO professional. The last entry makes me seem like I think I'm some kind of angel, but I suppose sometimes that's unavoidable. You know, with me being heaven-sent and all.
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Okay, I'm going to go drink apple cider out of the bottle. Now I KNOW Mom and Eve can't be allowed to read this.
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Six days no cigarettes for Mom and counting.

So, I know that an online journal is supposed to be neither a. intensely personal or b. something that should not be read by all. I also know that these two areas often overlap. However, I have never been one for ettiquette or stopping redundancy. So, it is 8:01 am (according to the computer clock) Pacific Time and I am up, having got maybe 2 hours of sleep (I got to bed at 3, having played in the snow for an hour and driven an hour each way to Snoqualmie Pass with Ali and Nick, then was so tired my head spun, but I could not fall asleep until what must have been 5 am). Then, at 7:30 am, was woken up by Mom and Eva SHRIEKING at each other
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[entry deleted in fairness to involved parties].
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And so it goes. And now I am too awake to fall asleep and I just don't feel like I can say this to anyone right now, so here I am writing it to the great void and the hypothetical readers because I always told myself my life would be worthwhile if someone found it entertaining. Healthy, huh? I guess the only people I trust with my emotions are voyeurs, because they feel no connection to you, so there's no awkwardness. I'm not really sure what to do now. I feel less nervous and upset having written this down, but I'm still unsettled. I want to curl up in bed with something good (not "Lolita", well, maybe), but Nick and Ali may call later and I don't want to be falling asleep on them. Then again, I don't want to be falling asleep feeling like this and have to deal with what dreams may come. Hmmmmm. Well, at least I'm posting. But I have to figure how to make the background appear on all computers. I think I need to put my images on the webpage sccs will give me. I should sign up for an e-mail. I'll ask Sorelle or Ester how.
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And the last question that remains: will I leave this post up if I make this page public to my friends and family with the hope that my friends who read it will not feel bound to respond to me and my Mom and Sister will not feel their privacy violated (the biggest worry) or that they are bad people for arguing (because we all do it)? We shall see. Oh, but SPEAKING of revealing things, both Ali and Nick got in the house recently (Ali while Mom was here) under the guise of going to the bathroom (definitely true in Ali's case, I wonder about Nick) and both loved it. I keep telling Mom that my friends don't see it in a scale of messiness, but of Alice-in-Wonderlandness and how much they thought it rocked. Ali says she wants to live here. Mom is coming around, I think. At least with them. Step by step, I suppose. I'm proud of this place. Anyone can live in a clean house. It takes special kinds of people to live in ours. Alright, enough talk. Time to read. Or sleep, maybe.

I CHANGED THE BACKGROUND!!! Ester and Brig are "riding my ass" (not in the good way, though) about telling them where this page is, so I thought I'd actually start learning HTML like I was supposed to. It is as easy as they say. I made this Ani background last night, then thought to myself, "hmmmm, many of these pictures are objectifying her. What would she think of this background?" Then I decided, "fuck it! I'm not letting Ani Difranco's hypothetical response to my background control me!" Funny the ways I decide to take control of my life. Nick just called. 10 minutes and counting 'til he and Ali pick me up for an "adventure" at Steven's Pass. I want to make a Calvin snowman with two heads and three arms, like in "Attack of the mutant killer snow goons." But I must go dress warmly and find my gloves and perhaps some boots (and take off my anti-gravity shoes, alas). And so it goes.

Alright, I suppose I should try a "real entry". I have previously been too nervous to actually write anything about my daily activities; surprising, since I've been narrating myself in my head since before I can remember. Interestingly, in my head, I always refer to myself as "Betsy" (a remnant from high school)... I just have to keep reminding myself that no one (I know) is reading this journal since I refuse to give the address out until I'm good and ready. I need some practice first. So, Mom, Eve, and I moved Xmas to New Years Day morning and I am sitting in the wake of my gifts, listening to the "Lesbian Favorites" CD my mother bought me, featuring Ani Difranco "In and Out", Dar Williams "As Cool as I Am" (which I know), KD Lang (who I have heard of only because of the term "kd lang fans"), and many others who I don't know (Fem 2 Fem, Ferron, Phranc, etc) but am excited to hear. It was a queer-themed Xmas for me, besides the CD Mom also got me two books on transgender stuff, which is awsome because I'm looking for stuff to read besides "Brigid Jones", which is proving to be WORSE than the movie. A rare problem. I love my Mom. She's super liberal and proud of it. I asked her point-blank if she'd prefer me to date a guy or a girl, and she said girl, then changed to no preference. She just wants me to date; I think she's nervous about shutting off any options.
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Oh! The song playing right now is "Obsession" (Fem 2 Fem)! How apropos. The CD is very cute and eighties with the sillhouette of two girls kissing on the actual CD. The song playing now is "I kissed a girl" and I am a little embarrassed because my sister can hear it. She's TOTALLY cool with it, but there are some things that still embarrass me. Only this year did I become cool with talking about girls I thought were cute. Weird how embarassment is the hardest thing to get rid of. Not shame. The singer says "she was just like kissing me". I don't know what I think of that description.
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Anyway, having declared that I would do it for the past week, I actually started cleaning my room last night for our (me, Mom, and Eve) annual, movie-junk-food New Years Marathon. We watched the two "Three Men and a" movies, which proved to be funnier than I had remembered. Of course, "Women's Studies" left me making comments like, "notice how he is shown appearing pregnant while holding a glass of wine" and Eva telling me to shut up. Why can't I just watch movies anymore? I know it's important to notice the bigotry and misrepresentation, but sometimes my inner critic is louder than the film. Ah well. I think I've done enough for the first try. I'm going to finish cleaning today. I swear. I just have to check my e-mail one more time.