Month: July 1997

In Orwell’s 1984, he talks about filling his tin cup with a ration of a synthetic gin that’s greasy, difficult going down, and the only drink available. That sounded like the coolest thing in college. I think the only reason I ever drank rum was because of the stories of sailors and wooden barrels of…

I always play these weird games in my head to keep me busy and eat away the free time in elevators, showers, and meetings when typical people probably either shut down their brains or think about God or something. One of my puzzles is to think about the Camaro I had back in high school…

I know I haven’t written anything in a while. Life’s been an odd combination of lots of work and little sleep, but not in the traditional sense. I don’t know how to explain it – I am not sleeping less because I am working so much. I am sleeping less because I keep getting sick…

I’m installing NT 4.0 on one of my computers right now. It’s about as involved as a heart valve replacement self-surgery, and twice as dangerous. I haven’t written in here for a while – it takes more effort and I’d rather spend my time working on other stuff, but I’ll still try to nail stuff…

I’m trying to write as much as possible on the book and I just don’t have enough fucking time. I need to trim more from my life – I wouldn’t say trim more from my life really. It’s not that I write and work and play NFL football and I need to drop one of…

Sometimes I wonder what parts of the present will be things that I cherish in the future. That doesn’t make sense, but when I think about the past, I enjoy the memory of certain things, people, places, or times. But I can also remember that I didn’t neccesarily enjoy these things in the past. Example:…