since im not super busy trying to finish this paper, nor am i leaving work at 2pm today, i figured id waste some time with the friday five.
1. What's your favorite piece of clothing that you currently own?
ive never been a jeans person...until these jeans. i love my only pair of jeans, they fit perfectly, perfect waist, perfect length, perfect color, perfect. when they wear out, i will die.
2. What piece of clothing do you most want to acquire?
I have been dying for one of those button down shirts with the ruffles all down the front. i see variations of it, without buttons and stretchy tight, thats not what i want. i want the buttons. i cant find one anywhere. (i did find one, but it was size 0...fuck that)
3. What piece of clothing can you not bring yourself to get rid of? Why?
i can never get rid of docs. i buy the same exact pair over and over again. i probably wore them every single day in college, with absolutely anything at all, dresses, no matter. when they wear out, i buy a new pair, i dont even have to try them on. the dog chewed the heel off the most recent pair, and im devastated, because ive moved on, in a fashion sense, so i wont wear them everyday, so if i get a new pair they will not get worn in properly. this has been a source of anguish in my life.
4. What piece of clothing do you look your best in?
well, my lbd (little black dress). that is a requirement for it, anyway. it must somehow look absolutely fantastic on me, while being timeless enough that i can hold on to it untill the next one comes along.
5. What has been your biggest fashion accident?
perhaps the docs with dresses

our optimization has one tiny problem that hardly ever occurs in it, so i went ahead and changed everything so now it works this way.

what?!? dont change it! we've tested this allready, we had it this way for a reason. if you could possibly manage to get past step two, you'd realize that we fix that one tiny problem later on. dont change anything, or "make it better" JUST DO YOUR FUCKING JOB!

breath breath breath....oh my god, i dont know where this summer student came from and i think im going to strangle him. probably not, then id have to touch his neck and hes way too creepy for that. ive been diligently working on a paper documenting our research for the past six months. we have designed, tested and verified it. it works. we have run thousands and thousands of tests. we have nice little pdf's that show the results. we have done all sorts of tests on variations of it and determined which is best. we are almost done. all we need now is this fucking dip shit to take it and code it into c. its really that simple. today he says to me....gee, have you considered using this obscure optimization function instead of what we do use? what is that? i dont know what that is. we may have considered it, or not. it doesnt matter. now is not the time to change things. oh, well, it is the time since i havent coded the optimization yet. well, shit i know you havent coded that yet, you havent coded anything yet. you dont do anything. why dont you not do what you just said and do your fucking job. our paper is due in 15 days. NOW is not the time to change anything.

son of a drunken whore, its happening again. i am getting so bored with my job. i do one thing, like cut this line and paste it there, and then i internet-stalk the cute new boy in my division or the assholes i went to high school with, i press the "check mail" button (even though it gets delivered automatically and i know that), i look for other jobs but im too bored to even think about any other job. i read the postings and cant bear to make it to the end of the paragraph. the problem is, i cant figure out what id rather be doing!?! (besides not working at all) there are no interesting jobs in san francisco. there are especially no jobs in silicon valley. i like the project ive been on, i have complete creative control and im good at it, but our funding runs out at the end of september. not only that, our worthless summer student has single handedly insured we will not have any sort of bells and whistles demo at the end of the summer. apart from eye contact penetrating the depths of my soul and a baffling inability to speak at an audible volume, he doesnt know the language he was hired to use. he was hired to translate matlab into c, but doenst know matlab and refuses to even open it on his computer. i dont know c, i cant do his damn job, but i guarantee i could learn it and finish this before he could. but im not going to because im too bored.

here is a picture of me, dave, and lance looking very very smart, yet proceeding, unrecognized, to last place in the bar trivia

this is the coolest thing ever you must get one

im one of those people who puts a lot of stock in the vibes i pick up from people. (consider that statement as un-hippy-like as it can be. (probably not very much, but i cant stand hippies, so that must count for something.)) for example, he is "very very creepy," is essentially tapping into vibes. his intense soul scratching eye contact, his slow very nearly inaudible speech. all this ==> creepy. so, my question is, at what point does creepy become actually scary, as in: does this person dig through my stuff when i am not here? or shall i be afraid to go to my car at night?

i started keeping this web log in march after the funding was canceled on the very important project i was working on. there was a three week period where i spent hours and hours doing absolutely nothing. when i started this, i told only one of my friends, hi jess. my boyfriend doesn’t know about it, at first because I wanted to talk about him. now that just seems unnatural, so my reason has become fear that he will confirm just how boring it is. my closest friends, or the people in my life who would benefit the most from this sort of daily (ok, weekly) internet update (rant) of mine, don’t know because I wanted it to develop on its own. I am the girl at the cocktail party with the crooked pearls and the silent smirk. I am the talbots-girl gone bad. Like the cocktail party, where my snide remarks fill only the closest ear, I am not the center of attention. This is some kind of extension of my own personality, nurtured, in time, over many many cocktail parties.

Day 1, 8:00am: Oh my god he is sooo loud. what is with that bass music? it's saturday!?!

Day 5: god, he is loud.

Day 10: oh my god. is he kidding?
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Day 120: "um, excuse me, can you please turn your television down?"

Day 125: "um, excuse me, can you please turn your music down?"

Day 130: "um, excuse me, can you please train your dogs to not bark incessantly?"

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Day 150: "what the fuck is your problem? why did you write a letter to the landlord saying i was loud? im not loud!"

oooohhhhh.....your not loud. see if i knew that i wouldnt have gone fucking crazy from listening to your trash for seven months. oh, but your not loud, ok. my mistake. carry on.

no million dollar baseball. massive splitting headach,though. how many glasses of water do i have to drink?

im going to the giants game tonight, maybe barry bonds will knock me his 600th home run, and i will sell it on ebay for a million dollars. that is my plan. i bought these tickets months ago! we decided that we should go see games at pac bell park since we have never before, bought the tickets, one cubs game, one astros game, there you go. now it turns out that everybody is talking about this game because barry is going to hit his 600th home run. i dont have a clue if that is 600 in one season...that seems like a shit load. but hell, i think its great that this game, in particular, is something to get very excited about. it's all the more reason for me to get real drunk, eat way too many hot dogs, scream and yell a whole lot. you know how it goes. the only problem is that i am bound by birth to root for the cubs...i wish i had one of those plastic net-like cubs hats. thats ok, ill root for the cubs, but also root that barry smacks one my way so i can sell it. oh...one more problem, im sure that if he does smack one my way it will be a foul ball. damn shitty seats.

things i have been thinking about today...

• i hate it when people link to sites of questionable taste without warning. 99% of my time on the internet is at work, and while i know not everyone works for the government, most companies have a similar policy. i dont know how i end up at these sites. its just yet another reason why i am basically just waiting to be fired.
  
• i love that little microsoft paperclip for the following reasons:
  
  • when i cant think of what to say for a long long time he curls up and goes to sleep. sometimes it takes him awhile to actually fall asleep, but he does.
    
  • when i finally think of what to say he opens his eyes first and checks what is going on before actually getting up. the dog does that too.
    
  
  
• the use (and misuse) of the list
  

by the way...if a person were to perhaps...HATE someone else, and lets just say that someone else happened to live below this person, well, what would one suggest to 1) drive them slowly insane, while simultaneously 2) making them shut the fuck up? i've allready had the idea to get a focused ultrasound ray gun, which kicks ass by the way. my plan goes something like this: point said ray at person wearing wool hat until he is absolutely convinced that the ear-drum shattering noise (one could choose to use the band cake as the noise, for instance. wait...he likes cake, dont use cake) warrants calling the police. police arrive, cant hear noise, (be sure ray is not pointed at police) tell hat guy he is a stupid mother fucker, and fine him $100 for being a fucking asshole. but then...hat guy still hears noise and slowly goes insane. brilliant plan, except for requirement (2) which is that he shuts the fuck up. the brilliant plan does not account for silencing hat guy when he slowly goes insane, and falls to his knees while clutching his ears and screaming. so my plan is flawed and i need suggestions.

cant wait for the lips, the downside to which is that they are opening for cake. cake. the band cake. i know them because the loud asshole who lives beneath me and wears a wool hat every day of the year (and his bald spot isnt even that bad!?!) likes them. i happen to already know that the world is fucked up, since i saw bob dylan open fpr phil lesh once, so i was not too suprised by this.

while walking back from the printer, and while noting to myself how the nicely the sections of my freshly edited paper conform to equal length....someone starts laughing and they are sitting in my office chair, and oh my god this is not my office, i am not in my office. nice. i just made some guys day.