3/26/2005 - Stilly

I went out with my friend Stilly last night. For those who don't know the significance of Stilly -

Stilly and I have done two seriously major websites together, each one the product of months worth of the two of us coding like the vicious code monkeys we are. Stilly was the yin to my yang and the yang to my yin, and we had perfected the "no look pass" while coding. We could work completely independently for weeks, and then merge our work together into a working product in a little over an hour. For those who don't code, this takes an incredibly compatible mindset. Stilly is on my list of the ten coolest people in the entire universe, and I'm including famous people and historical figures in this list.

We have both agreed that, while we are both heterosexual, if we got hit with a gay-ray, it's on. That's how cool this cat is.

I have not seen Stilly in years, so I guess we should have spent time catching up on what's been going on, but we just talked about "nothing stuff" like we always have. As an example, we discussed the differences between conflict resolution with a woman, and conflict resolution with a man.

With a woman, there's a big talk. These were the feelings, this is why we felt this way, this is what happened that caused this other thing to happen, and this is what it was perceived as. This discussion could last hours, and, once it's over, we end up feeling a little more confused than when it started.

With a man...
"We cool?"
"Yeah."

Stilly shared a piece of deep wisdom with me, as well. "Reality is that which, when you stop believing in it, it's still there." That's a nice litmus test to decide what are the important things to focus on. Plus it's kinda funny.

3/15/2005 - Birthday Party In Detail

Inigo's birthday party was a pretty big success. Everyone had fun, and it was the kind of fun that I can get into - most people's clothes stayed on, my neighbors were able to sleep through it, but we all still had a damned good time.

About my neighbors, I only have one "neighbor" that is within earshot, and I've got to be lighting off fireworks in my front yard for it to be bothersome to them. My place is perfect for the kind of party that I throw. Everyone can talk, laugh, yell, and dance while they are inside my house, and the "neighbors" (one house, about 70 yards away) don't hear a thing. I grew up in Detroit, where "neighbor" meant that you could hear them having sex. Dang, that was disturbing sometimes. There are reasons I moved out to the country.

Side note - why is it called "having" sex. Shouldn't it be "doing" sex?

Back to the party -
Here are some pictures
Here are the highlights in my mind:

• Sarah kept cleaning my kitchen. Baby, you give me a call if Pepper ever leaves you. I'm in line


• I am the uncontested Master Margarita Maker (except Shannon said that she could make a better margarita, which would tick me off, except she bartends on the weekends, so, if anyone could, she could, but it's still just not cool to say)


• Two people, male and female, who shall remain nameless, tested the weight limits on my card table. Thanks, guys. I remember thinking "it's 4am, and nothing's broken yet, so it's 'bout damn time someone busted some of my stuff", but the damn thing held up. Additionally, I had an incredible view of some mildly raunchy action (still clothed), and I was willing to sacrifice a card table for the memories. I have the mental image in my mind, and I still have my card table. SCORE!


• I started yelling at people when Cindy was trying to leave and someone was behind her and no one was moving their car. "Y'all just get up and go check! All of you! Now!"


• I kept telling Cindy that she looked fantastic. She looks fantastic. You're a damn lucky man, Steve.


• Boo cannot look at a camera without making some kinda face


• Someone wrote "I ♥ J" in my garage with my kids' sidewalk chalk. Whoever you are (and I think I know who it is, you sweet hottub honey), I heart you, too

As mentioned in the previous post, we went through four rolls of toilet paper. Four rolls! It wasn't a huge party - it was under 30 people. This just absolutely drops my drawers. Four rolls of toilet paper. I'm not concerned about the expense or anything. I'm concerned about whoever needed that much toilet paper. Maybe we should see a doctor about that.

I'll skip the analysis, and take this to its logical conclusion: One of my friends eats toilet paper.

I'm an open-minded guy. Don't be ashamed, toilet-paper-eating friend. We all have... eccentricites. Me, I like to eat crackers in bed. Just let me know next time, and I'll have a couple rolls on the table.

3/13/2005 - Birthday Party

Inigo turned 30 recently, so I had a birthday party for him last night. I'll write about it a little later today (don't worry, anyone - I'll censor out the juicy stuff), but I had to write a quick note about what it takes to throw a little get-together for some friends.

• A quarter barrel of Bud Light


• 2 fifths of tequila


• Four big bags of assorted chips


• Four rolls of toilet paper

Seriously. We went through four rolls of toilet paper last night. I don't think people were stealing them from me, since there were four empty "cores" in the trash this morning.

Additionally, I found out that my card table, which looks flimsy, can actually support the weight of two adults. More details later...

3/5/2005 - Telnet

I wasn't always as incredibly cool as I am now. There was a time, long ago, that it was blatantly obvious that my ideal career was going to involve The Internet. It all began in 1988, when I first heard of The Internet. There was an article in some computer magazine that was titled something like "The World Needs A Global Network - Can The Internet Fit The Bill?" I was all aquiver.

In 1989, I went off to college, and received a computer account at Western Michigan University. My computer account gave me access to The Internet. I spent a lot of time getting to know what was on the WMU servers, which included a multi-player, customizable text adventure game called Monster. However, The Internet tempted and taunted me. I needed to know more about this thing.

Back in those days, universities just plugged their computers into The Internet all willy-nilly, with no consideration to security. This gave me a big green light to do what is very likely the defining moment of my dorkiness. I telnetted around the world.

Telnet was (is) an application for connecting to other computers over The Internet, putting the user at a command prompt on the remote machine. I sat and thought about how cool this was - it was like I was sitting at a computer hundreds of miles away from me. As I was looking at a big list of university computers around the world that ran Telnet, the thought occurred to me - how far can I telnet?

I don't remember the details, but I think I started telnetting to a computer in the UK. While I was on that computer, I got to thinking - I can connect through telnet on this computer in the UK over to another computer somewhere else. Then, everything I typed would jump over the ocean to the UK, then it would jump to the new computer.

This started getting silly, to be honest. If I recall the chain, it was something like: Kalamazoo -> UK -> Italy -> Israel -> India -> Phillipines -> California -> Chicago. Then, I telnetted from the Chicago computer back to WMU's computers, opened the chat application on WMU's computers, and started a chat session with myself (in the university computer room, I had commandeered two machines for my mad experiment). One chat client was running locally, the other chat client was getting routed through a long chain of telnet sessions that circled the globe.

This probably sounds pointless and ridiculous to everyone reading this, but it gave me that tickle in my soul that cried out to me, somehow, oh somehow, I could use this to align the planets.

I looked at this chat session. This chat application would show every letter that the other person typed as they were typing it, so I began with typing just one letter.

I waited...

And waited...

Five seconds...

Ten seconds...

Maybe more. The scenario seemed so external and surreal that I felt as if I was watching a movie. This signal was going completely around the globe.

I watched... waited... the one letter I typed traveled faster than Santa Claus... mysteriously finding its way... back to...

YEAH! YEEEEEAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!! I JUST TALKED TO MYSELF! I routed a single letter completely around the world!

I sat, with the pure energy of Zen Enlightenment bursting within my mind, expanding beyond any borders, creating an endless, infinite universe within my soul. I typed more. It went around the world. I had channeled a power that perhaps mankind was not prepared to deal with. Yet it was mine.

I reached out and touched the face of God.

And God's omnipotent, yet casual reply... "Jay... my son... you... are a nerd."

Right on.

3/2/2005 - Tongue Twister

Toy boat. Toy boat. Toy boat.

3/1/2005 - When I Was Fab

I bet you've been thinking "I know I've seen Jay somewhere before". Aside from the fact that I look like a lot of other guys my age, you may have seen my face here or there through the years. I've snuck my cute little face into plenty of situations through the ages - heck, a guy's gotta leave his mark. So, while you may have never heard my name in these situations, you know the face. Kind of like Calvert De Forest (who I actually saw in person one time - he seemed a little grumpy, though).

---

This was a transitional point in my life, really. I had to do something different to get noticed - I was tired of the monotony of life up until this point. So Klaus Voorman said "Jay, I've just got to get your face on this album cover". I was a little reluctant, of course. I mean, this was something totally off the wall, and I have to admit, it even seemed a little odd to me. Of course, my number one fear was how it would come across.

"Klaus", I said, "what about my ears?"
"I can fix 'em," he said.
"But how about my nose?"
He balked, then replied "I don't think anyone will notice it next to
George's".
So I agreed. Klaus was an artist, and I trusted him. Personally, I'm
satisfied with the results.



The first one, right by Paul's ear, was ingenious. It meant something philosophical to Klaus, but I couldn't really understand it. I do like how John was kind of peeking out from behind me, though.



This one was sort of tucked away - "Kind of like a fab little prize," Klaus was known to say. He was into this sort of thing. The rest of the guys thought it brought the right balance to the cover. As Paul put it :

"It's like a jungle - a sort of mish-mash of everything that makes us us, and there's John's hair, just all a mess, a jungle, madness, and right there in the middle of it... [he paused for a while here, but then, as if no time had passed at all] is google-eyed Jay, adding just the right touch of comedy. Fab. Just fab."

John didn't like it, and felt we should "take a rubber" to it. Had I known that "rubber" meant "eraser" in England, I might not have been so offended, and I probably would have taken his calls after that. Oh, well. We can't live life in regret.
Sorry about that last joke. I just couldn't resist.

3/1/2005 - Conversation

I have a dear sweet sexy friend who is mad about legal stuff. She's going to be a lawyer, then a judge, and then she's going to let me go scott-free when I'm caught up in the middle of some massive fraud case. Thanks, doll.

She sometimes tries to talk to me about legal issues in the news, but, in my mind, law and courts mean that I'm in trouble for something, so I avoid the topics. A while ago, she was talking about legal issues in cloning...

Bek: I wonder if people will soon call for the protection of sperm. It is potential life, after all. Great anti-masturbation rallies. Special devices to collect nocturnal emissions to be rushed to the nearest Sperm Safe House.
Jay: um
Bek: Too much?
Jay: er
Bek: shocked you?
Jay: oo
Bek: get a grip, man!
Jay: uh... I have no idea what you're talking about. Cloning. Sperm. Wet dreams. Police. It sounds like my love life, so I'm trying to just not think about it.

I'm a simple guy, gang. Try to get me riled up about something, and I'll probably just sit there with a blank look on my face.

2/28/2005 - Fish Out Of Water

I've always been a third party observer in life. Two years ago, I decided that I was sick of that. It wasn't working out for me. I went a few final months goofing around, then cleaned my act up. I cut my hair, and turned back into the guy I used to be.

Why did I change from what I used to be in the first place, though? Because that wasn't working out for me, either.

I've realized that I'm half hippie, half yuppie. I'm complicated. I hate being labeled and categorized, and the world can't stand not being able to label and categorize. I don't fit into any molds, and I've really been trying. My heart's just not in it.

Expectations are everywhere. I really wish I could meet these expectations, but I just have no lust for it. Everyone is running races, crossing goal lines, meeting deadlines, and acquiring possessions. I don't feel any motivation to do that.

My parents let me live my own life and create my own definition of success. Fabulous. That means I have to learn how to map my path before I even start down that path. I guess, since a human life is too valuable to manipulate, it's for the best that they didn't manipulate me, but it's a little overwhelming sometimes.

My Aunt Charlotte died last year. She was married once, divorced, and then never remarried. She had relationships, but my impression was that there were never any marriage-minded relationships. From a traditional point of view, she "died alone".

She was a four-star producer/director. She did some fantastic work. Rather than focusing her energies on meeting the needs of one person, she focused her energies on her passion, which touched thousands of lives. She forewent a single deep romantic relationship in favor of conveying an alternate perspective to thousands of people, making all of them that much more human.

Maybe I'm melodramatic. Maybe I'm making excuses for why I shouldn't try. After twenty years of actively trying, though, do I keep trying? I get no joy from it. I've seen people in romantic relationships that are so hurtful and lonely, yet they remain in these relationships because they don't want to feel rejected and alone. I feel much less rejection now that I'm alone, though.

Fifty years ago, you shut your damned mouth and lived up to your commitment. That's it. You're married, you stay married. Married people live longer. Married people are happier. Married people are not unfairly judged and ostracized by society, because they fell into line and met the expectations.

Oh well.