Oppure la nostra stanza all'ostello che era più o meno 4 metri per 4, con moquette ovunque e il più grosso quantitativo di polvere mai visto in un singolo spazio, con la luce automatica in bagno che non si spegneva mai e l'invasione di musicisti la sera per tentare di aprire la nostra finestra che si è poi spalancata in 3 secondi netti sotto il sapiente tocco di un ingegnere. E i nostri dirimpettai che giocavano a golf in un appartamento apparentemente infinito mentre facevano le polpette e guardavano una misteriosa partita di calcio esultando e ballando in giro. E gli ascensori che non arrivavano mai.

E poi quel primo concerto in quell'incrocio tra un museo e una serra, con le statue greche finte e un giardino di palme simil coloniale inglese sotto una volta da duomo, un caldo atroce e un palco minuscolo. E quel figo che piangeva mentre cantavo il mio solo. E quella signora che sorrideva contentissima mentre facevano "Laudate Dio", seduta accanto a un ragazzo con una camicia rosa e bretelle bianche che si reggeva e guance con le mani.

Oppure potrei dire di quel secondo concerto in cui la voce mi era andata a puttane ed ero in panico totale, eppure ce l'ho fatta ad emettere una cosa decente per tutto il tempo. Quel direttore brasiliano che era seduto in prima fila e faceva praticamente luce talmente era esaltato. Il nostro direttore "No ma se non ce la fai basta che me lo dici, tesoro mio bello!".

E quella sera del concerto dei ghanesi? La gente che ci aveva sentito cantare ai concerti che si metteva ad applaudire quando passavamo "ah, it was BEAUTIFUL". E poi io e la Crystal a ballare per strada e poi su per quattro piani di scale senza smettere un attimo, perché visto che non avevano ballato gli africani dovevamo sopperire noi in qualche modo.

Passare il songbridge seduta da parte a un Ivo Antognini esaltatissimo dal nostro successo, che mi raccontava mille aneddoti di tutta la gente che aveva conosciuto in quei giorni, quel direttore australiano che gli aveva chiesto se eravamo un coro professionale, quell'altro esperto che pensava fossimo i migliori bambini da tutto il mondo riuniti per l'occasione in un coro...

Poi dovrei ancora dire di quell'ora passata al Tivoli Garden con il direttore brasiliano dagli occhi d'ambra incontrato per caso e che ci ha chiesto di autografargli il cd, che mi ha fatto duemila complimenti, che mi ha accarezzata, rassicurandomi sul fatto che non ero per niente vecchia (sono la più vecchia del gruppo :D) e che ha cantato con Milton Do Nascimento...

Del concerto all'opera di Copenhagen, delle 1500 persone che c'erano lì, di come i riflettori ti accecano quando sei lì tu, da sola, con una candelina in mano, e ti tremano le gambe... Di quando il pubblico fa una standing ovation a un coretto svizzero che in patria assolutamente nessuno si fila...

Un post troppo lungo, troppe cose da dire, un solo World Symposium on Choral Music a Copenhagen, una sola passione.

Das passiert aber sicher nicht.

Hab mir erst letzte Woche wieder 6 Bücher gekauft und obwohl an das Wohnzimmerregal erst angebaut wurde ist shcon wieder kaum noch Platz....

They …they are the gophers in my backyard.

It is a battle for dominance which has been going on for half a decade. I have technology on my side and have modified my rules of engagement based upon their battle strategy.  In the beginning, I attempted to win their hearts and minds by trapping the little rodents and re-locating them (my neighbor's swimming pool was considered and rejected). This act of kindness was rewarded with, you guessed it, more gophers and destruction in my backyard.

It was clear that a surge of force was necessary to restore order to what had become an unsightly and embarrassing mess in my garden. My wife suggested that the escalation of effort would not be necessary had I left the gophers alone in the first place. After all, it wasn't her garden and the nearest gopher tunnel was 60 feet from the house. I had to remind her that it was better to fight these animals on their territory at the time of my choosing rather than finding them invading our living space.  She threw her arms in the air and suggested that I must have been dropped on my head when I was little because according to her I was not operating on all cylinders. 

She, of course, was wrong. And it was clear that I would have no allies in this action and must go forward alone.   Unlike hers, my vision was clear.  She simply did not understand that force, when used, must massive, unrelenting and devastating.  Half-ass force can get you all the way killed as we used to say in the Marine Corps.  I knew what I had to do. I had to raise the level of violence to a point that made it untenable for the gophers to remain. 

At first, during the surge I used poison bait, then death traps, but the gophers kept on coming. I have, since,  resorted to using poison gas and I am now able to report that I can see some progress. It appears that my surge is working. The gophers appear to be on the run. Sadly, the cost of conducting this war has taken a toll on my economic state of being. Funds used to wage this war cannot be used to raise my standard of living or improve my education or give me access to better health care.  I also find myself in the position of trying to prove a negative. The only way I will know that I have won this war will be by the absence of gophers in my backyard. Yes that means exactly what you think it means. I win because something doesn't happen.

But I'm going to stay the course because I've invested too much in defeating the gophers and I know once I stop my efforts; the gophers will invade my home and destroy my way of life. Death to the gophers and God bless America.

It has been nearly 5 years since Steve Bartman's incident at Wrigley field, but apparently Bartman still feels his life is in danger. Bartman has decided to turn down the offer of $25,000 to autograph the infamous photo at The Nationals on July 31st. His family representative says, "It's just another shameless commercial stunt". Even if it is, the money that the autographed photo would have sold for would have been given to a Chicago based charity. The autograph was estimated to have been sold for $100,000.00.

Bartman, who has kept low profile since that fateful day, once turned down an offer "well into six figures" to simply appear in a Super Bowl commercial.

Well, I know that most people have moved on since he ruined the game for the Cubs, but I know people will now hate him again for being a coward.

Way to go, Steve.

Well, indirectly that is. Sort of.

Once again browsing the net when I found a rather interesting article. We all know about PS2 and some of us have wondered how the heck did they come up with this little gem to give us multitudes of fun right in our home. One thing that makes up said little gem is a metal called coltan. Coltan, when refined turns into tantalum and is used in the manufacturing of electronic devices.

Now, this coltan is extensively found in Democratic Republic of Congo. With the ore in high demand, especially for the PS2 (I mean come on, they sold millions of these), the military in charge of the area and even western companies have forced prisoners-of-war and even children to go to mines and gather the much needed ore.

Yes you heard right. Children sent down in mines.

""Kids in Congo were being sent down mines to die so that kids in Europe and America could kill imaginary aliens in their living rooms," said Ex-British Parliament Member Oona King."

While SONY denies using coltan from the Congo for their more recent PS2 units and other products of the Playstation lineup, the ore is usually traded and passed around many times so the origin of the ore is quite hard to determine. Not that a lot of companies would care to find out.

Now ain't that somethin'? People who own a PS2, don't you just feel goosebumps coming along? Someone might have died just so you can have your box of fun. Well I sure did. I swear, I'll never look at a PS2 the same ever again. Thank you SONY and other companies, for being so incredibly ignorant.

It hurts. I feel like I just took a knife and gutted myself, purposely removing a vital organ from my body, leaving a gaping hole where it's supposed to be in me. Forgive the cliche, however, the term "broken heart" was not coined for poetic license; it's a completely accurate term.

This decision was for the best. I was not presented with complete truths; throughout all of the ups and downs, the break up and then reconciliation, key information was being hidden from me. I am positive it was not done on purpose, nor out of malice or manipulation. However, it was deceptive, and I do not want to be involved in a relationship that requires sneaking around. I still feel very strongly towards this person, my pure emotions have not changed one iota, but if I'm going to be involved with someone I want it to be good and for all parties involved (directly or indirectly) to be on board. The second that there is conflict, the relationship is no longer good and cannot exist now.

I hope that the other person understands why I did what I did. Right now, the relationship serves no purpose. Right now, we both need to concentrate on ourselves and NOT each other -- something we both failed to do, because we care so much. As much as I enjoy having someone for myself, I care enough about the person that I want what's best; and right now, what's best is that we do not talk, and that we are no longer in limbo. I sincerely hope that this person does not hate me for what I did, and only grows from this experience.

What we did was NOT for nothing. We both grew and learned a lot. We both helped each other grow. We both gave to each other what neither of us thought ourselves capable of giving. The only problem is the timing. The second that everybody approves and the relationship can be considered good again, I hope to get a phone call.

I am not ok right now. I plan on being ok -- but it is too soon, too fresh a wound to even entertain a thought without feeling sick.

I feel no ill-feelings towards this person; only joy for their successes and my sincerest best wishes. I do not blame them, I only hope that they grow and change and concentrate on themselves now that they are given the chance. I hope that they do not get caught up in the intensity of this evening, but use it to propel them forward and to help them fly -- not for ME, but for THEM. For THEMSELVES.

The only thing I am truly sorry about is that I made you cry. I am so sorry for putting you through so much pain, and I hope you understand my motives. I truly believe it to be the right decision, despite the hurting and the pain.

Also, I know that Hashem will help us and guide us each in our individual lives for the best. As much of a cop-out answer as it seems, I have full faith in Hashem and His abilities. You never know what can happen, and I certainly am not burning any bridges or closing any doors. I am merely removing the limbo and sticking to what should have been stuck to since June.

It hurts; but I KNOW we will be ok.

May Hashem help us both achieve our individual goals and dreams. Hatzlocha v'bracha.

There are books that claim to help you figure out this age old question like Rick Warren's "Purpose Driven Life" and even ones to help your church find it's purpose with "Purpose Driven Church".

With all of these helps, have we really learned our 'Purpose in Life'?

Do you know your purpose in life? Have you made that discovery?

But this new thing.  Wow, it hit me out of nowhere.  I have a friend who is going through something very trying and her experience is one that many of us fear and many of us could experience.  So it hit me like a raging river flooded by the waters rising from a powerful hurricane.  Visions, feelings, different experiences...I can see each print, how the people are, the eyes, the pose, the intensity.  Disturbing yet invigorating scenes to bring about awareness and a new consciousness that so many never achieve because of the desire to remain blinded and therefore unprotected from this thing that could affect many of us.

So now my dilemma is to find models.  Adults, women, willing to do what I need. (no, nothing dirty).  I've not done this before.  I've done nature, children, technology, but not this.  The visions are so great, powerful and moving, so much that I feel driven to do this.  Driven to get a message out and honor her and so many others in her situation.  Bring about understanding, compassion and awareness in a compelling way.

I have to do this and I don't know why I feel it so strongly, but I do.  Now to set up the place, the stages, if you will, and find my actresses and then the vision will come to life.

They never could find a reason for my bones bleeding. Numerous tests showed that I didn't have any of the major common bleeding disorders, so they assumed it was a result of my MHE and as a precaution I would be administered DDAVP before each surgery to avoid "bloody situations".

My new "blood team" suggested I take a trip to another town and hospital for them to do a bunch of other tests to see if they can actually diagnose my bleeding problem - which, as of right now, is referred to as my bleeding problem. The head of the hematology department said that she would probably find what causes my bleeding problem because they actually have a very good, huge blood lab. So I'm thinking I might do that, just because it would probably be a good thing to know. Or interesting to find out, at least.

After we met with the "blood team", we headed over to my hospital (which is actually across the street) to see if we could meet with my doctor (whom we shall refer to as Dr. Wonder), or at least his secretary. But I guess that his secretary was out for lunch or something. In any case, I didn't get to meet with him - or anybody really. We had my handicapped parking forms with us so he could fill out the information to renew it since it expires on the 31st, but I guess I have to wait for my surgery for that.

It sort of frustrates me that I've yet to actually meet with Dr. Wonder about this whole surgery business. I mean, I met him once. I've spoken with him once. The appointment I had a couple months ago was with one of his teammates. I was sort of put out that Dr. Wonder didn't even come in to talk to me about the surgery, since, well, he's going to be the one operating on me. Did I mention it's my first surgery with this hospital and with this team? Excuse me if I'm feeling a tad bit nervous about it, and truthfully I'm missing my childhood team. Course they've been with me from the get go and my old doctors bedside manor was beyond amazing, he was definitely a rare doctor.

I don't yet have an opinion about Dr. Wonder. I mean I hear he's the best in the area, and my old doctor really wouldn't have referred me to anyone less than that...but it would be nice to have an actual conversation with the guy before I go under the knife, ya know? And I was really hoping I could talk to him about adding that one bone growth on my left hip into the mix...

Today I actually went to get an ultrasound and x-ray of that bone growth. I was hoping that if I could get the ball rolling, Dr. Wonder might be able to add that to the surgery list after seeing the results [if it causes alarm that is]. But actually, this is one of the more painful bone growths at this time (along with the ankle bone growth they are already planning on removing). I guess it's just causing me a lot of pain because it's in the most inconvenient of places and it makes sitting and laying down on my left side and back more difficult, uncomfortable, and painful than it should be.

I'll try calling the office on Monday again.

"Authors" Note: I apologize for not giving out much information and therefore making this post sound a little bit on the boring side but I'm not comfortable with giving out location/name information. I hope you all understand!

Today is was my first day in what they like to call " the real world". After 7 years in elementary school, 3 years in Jr. high, 3 years  in high school, and 9 of the most ridiculous, outrageous and dramatic quarters of my life I have earned my Associates of Applied Science. I though Bates Technical College was going to be the death of me, but I have achieved a goal that i thought I never thought possible.

Right now, I'm not really sure what to do with myself. It feels so surreal and so fake. I guess it won't really hit me until I have worked a few months at 40hrs a week. No more cutting off early or showing up late. It's going to be different but I am excited. I will be continuing to work at Weyerhasuer as a contractor which is an amazing opportunity, although it may not be as exciting as a full time Weyerhaeuser employee, I'll take what I can get. At this point I'm the only one from my class with a job.

All in all, it feels pretty good. John seems to think it's a bigger deal than I do. He took me out for a special dinner last night to celebrate my accomplishment. He is really excited for me to start working, he keeps calling me his "Sugar Momma". Maybe he thinks my paycheck is bigger than it is ;-)

]]> http://crionnacht.wordpress.com/?p=118 Fri, 25 Jul 2008 01:14:04 +0000 Joseph Engelman http://crionnacht.wordpress.com/?p=118 the results are in: four (4) out of five (5) gay men agree that, although, they like the way i look most are extremelyuncomfortable around me. the idea of me peaks their interest, at least, in the short-term - causing me to be quite popular to look at and have the occasional, short conversation with. quite honestly, even though, i can pull off the first-class born, sophisticated socialite bred, hate-to-love gentleman look i am far from being the guy that gets invited to tea parties and sundaybrunch. mainly, in part, because underneath the list of accomplishments and qualifications, i represented the guy that made most of them miserable their whole life - especially, in the awkward years of junior-high and high school. unfortunately, soon after realizing that i'm not just another glassy-eyed gay guy they quickly lose interest and are gone.

let's face it, all my life i have been exposed to every facet, almost, of the glbt community - even, before i knew i was gay. i have met some of the bitchiest, lemme queens and the scariest big, bull dykes. unfortunately, after seeing its varied forms i came to realize that i just don't feel like i fit in. every where i turned i kept seeing people who were defining themselves, and letting other people define them, by their sexual orientation. to me the community, at large, just seems to be an endless mafia-style of misfits doing their best to fit in with a society that is clearly not very receptive to our lifestyle-choice. oh, by doing their best, i mean by asking the normalsociety to be open-minded and asking them to accept us as people not defined by sexual preference. normally, this might be helpful in breaking down some walls if it wasn't for the fact that the people asking others to be open-minded and tolerant are some of the most close-minded, elitist lgbtpeople you will ever meet.

i mean, i get how as a society the only way we have allowed ourselves to deal with the overload of so much negative, external stimuli is to close ourselves off and be, at least a little, narrow minded.

examples:

1. "that guy shaves his head." - he must be a neo-nazi.
2. "that guy has crooked teeth." - he must be poor and illiterate.
3. "that guy is asain." - he probably has a small penis.

we stereotype each other everyday. at times, we don't even mean to appear so prejudice against each other, however, as i already said,... it's the only defense that is proven to work when being bombards with so much negative and positive stimuli all at once. it is just simply more easy to stereotype that a moving car is dangerous - instead of walking out infront of the car and getting hit.

picture this man:

in his ears he has 8-gauge tunnels; his left is is pierced also with a small hoop. slight gap in-between his right two front teeth. his upper, right arm and chest have,  decent-sized, 2nd & 3rd degree burns across them. he has a scruffy, two-day unshavened kind of face. one of his favourite songs to listen to is:
"there is," boxer car racer.

- okay, have that man pictured? -

now picture this guy:

he has beautiful, hazel-green eyes; and a coy, little smile. he sees everything black and white; he doesn't let too many people see him cry. always dresses to make himself feel good; and to leave a great impression on the world (usually in anything ranging from american eagle to armani). he is a piano virtuoso and an amature composer. he can speak 3 other languages; englishis only a second language to him.

- okay, have that man pictured? -

so, what do you think of the two different guys i described?
did the first one turn out being more rocker-sheik
and the second one turn out being more preppy school boy?
think those two boys would ever get along if you put them in a room together?

well, i can put an answer to all of those questions, because,
when you combine the images in your head you'll actually get me:

guy nr.1:

plusguy nr. 2:

equals me!

to an extent in every aspect of my life i have always been the "square peg" going through a life filled with 98% rounded holes. while most people might not have been thrilled being the square peg, the truth is, i like living that way - most of the time. not only do i have an urge to be different and do everything the hard way; unfortunately, i also have the desire to do it all and make it look effortless.

i am pretty much a little bit of everything all rolled into one.  i'm smart - definitely not a brain, though. i'm athletic, but, i would hardly call myself a jock. i'm serious, but, i also know when to just cut loose and have a great time. i was that kid who was friends with everyone, no matter their clique, threads, view points, et cetera - unfortunately, i could also be the jerk who pretended not to know you even existed if you crossed him the wrong way. i managed to everything and nothing all because, i, personally, didn't fit in with any one-set stereotype.

example: i play sports and loving going running, but, i also like being involved with local municipal bands and orchestras, and reading classical european literature.

i guess to a certain point all this knowledge of how much i don't fit in with the general stereotypes of gay that made me keep my sexual orientation kind of a mystery for most of my high school career. i was never quite sure if i really was gay - even though, i really don't have an eye for fashion, i hate drama, i can't dance worth hell, and i don't spend my time drooling over hott guys - or, if i was just curious.

i smile and pretend not to hear the catty gays talking about my "conceited" and "arrogant" act i play off and how i am probably just some bitchy, hungry bottom. i laugh it off for the hundredth time that week when someone refers to me as that cocky pianist, or dumb jock.

i just wish it were possible for all of us to really get to know each other, even slightly better, before passing finally judgement on how we will live our lives viewing each other. even after only spending a little time scratching away the surface, no-body is who the originally appear to be.

that bully who bosses you around or is constantly making you look stupid might not really be doing it because he thinks it is funny - but, because, he figures if everyone is looking at you no one will see through him.

however, there is a little bit of hypocrisy in this rambling about wanting everyone to judge others differently and try to be friends with people they wouldn'tordinarily be friends with. i cannot ever find myself being friends with a person who defines them-self soli based on their sexual orientation. to me, being gay shouldn't be what defines you to the world, it should maybe rank in the top ten (10) things that make you who you are,... but, not in your top five (5). i think that is one of the reasons i don't really get along with most gay men my age - they allow their defining factor to everyone else be that they are gay or lesbian, et cetera. who knows,... maybe i'm the biggest predicament in my own problem; because o my unwillinglyness to view a person, when firstmeeting them, as nothing more than a vacant, shallow loser. maybe when it comes right down to it,... maybe i am the one that needs the attitude adjustment today - i just don't know. or, maybe, it's a two way street.

i am not quite sure where this rambling was going, however, just like me it is a random out burst of thoughts. so, i hope you enjoyed them,... and at least managed to take away something from reading it - aka, not to define somebody by something as petty as whether they want to share their life with a man or a woman.

But from that to something rather more annoying: the current mongoosefight** between various feminists/"feminists"/avowed-non-feminists over that most high-school of topics, personal fucking appearance.

Natalia Antonova has a damn good analysis of the original*** catalyst for all this. In short, I just don't get how it's a feminist act to tell other women how they should look. Kinda goes against the grain.

Let me assure you, ain't going to be any naked, semi-naked, or even fully-clothed-and-shopped photos of QoT popping up here any time soon. And a big part of that, far beyond the personal-identification issue, is a whopping great dollop of body-hate. And FeministAnonymous? Thanks for making dealing with that a shitload harder.

I'm not "conventionally pretty". I never have been. I've spent a lot of time**** hating my body in general, specific areas of it in particular, missing out on social events because I did not want to be seen by anyone. On the other hand, I'm hardly the Creature from the Black Lagoon, so there's never been a shortage of friends, family, partners around to tell me that I look fine, that I'm pretty, that I'm being silly.*****

Whinging aside, I've gotten better at dealing with this rubbish as the years have passed. It's certainly helped to have a lot of stroppy feminist friends and allies out there who I know won't pass judgement on me, or at least not openly - it's programmed into a lot of us to judge other women's appearances, usually negatively, and acknowledging that and trying to change is part of being a feminist, far as I'm concerned.

Long story short, I've become accustomed to the idea that I'm not totally hideous. That I can wear nice clothes and have good hair or long nails and feel good about how I look. No, not because it makes my SO happy. Not because it gets approval from my boss. Not because it'll garner me any more attention from men, or women, in my day-to-day life.

Until now, of course. Because now, apparently, without being "pretty", without working in any kind of appearance-focused industry or posting photos of myself looking good, just by overcoming patriarchal, society-imprinted, sexually-objectifying notions of what gives me value as a woman, and learning to love myself as I am and view myself as good-looking and attractive, I am apparently betraying feminism.

Well, fan-fucking tastic.

Shit, I guess my copy of Fat Is A Feminist Issue must be a patriarchy-pleasing instrument as well, because by examining our relationships with food and attaining a more positive body image (and possibly, but by no means automatically, *gasp* smaller-waist-size) women are obviously just trying to look better for men. And let's not even get started on The Beauty Myth, though possibly I was just interrogating it from the wrong perspective when the message I took from it was "I can be beautiful and body-loving as I am, armed with an analysis of the pressures on me to conform to a certain ideal."

I mean, clearly just feeling better about myself and secure in the idea that I could wear a figure-hugging top in public without concern for other people's opinions - because I like the damn top - is a crime against feminism and I should - what was it, FA? "Put some clothes on if I care about women at all." Score 1 for the patriarchy, QoT wears shirts with a V-neck.

*WHERE DOES IT ALL COME FROM? My sinuses = the TARDIS, people.

**Well, catfight and bitchfight being too obviously gendered, and never let it be said I shirk from creating hilarious neologisms.

***In this instance

****Any commenters who want to inform me that I "shouldn't put so much thought into something so trivial" etc, or make judgements about how "feminist" can I really be while wasting so much effort thinking about my looks? Fuck off.

*****Word to the wise: telling depressed people they're being silly is redundant. They know.

Und da sitzt ihr alle herum und spielt das selbe Spiel? Wie Langweilig.

Nun ist es mal wieder so weit, ich wurde mal wieder zu einer LAN-Party eingeladen und werde euch natürlich davon berichten, so fern ich dazu noch in der Lage bin.

Für diejenigen unter euch, die nicht wissen, was eine LAN-Party ist werde ich dieses Phänomen kurz erläutern.

Eine LAN-Party ist eine Zusammenkunft, meist mehrtägig, von Gamern, Nerds, Geeks und anderen Computerverrückten, die zum Ziel hat, das alle ihren eigens dafür mitgebrachten Rechner zu einem Netzwerk verbinden, um sobald das Netzwerk funktioniert, was teils auch einige Stunden dauern kann, gegeneinander in Teams zu spielen, wobei die gespielten Games von LAN-Party zu LAN-Party unterschiedlich sind, so spielt man mal Warcraft 3, dann wieder Counter Strike oder andere Multiplayer. Manch einer wird nun fragen, ob es nicht Langweilig wird, wenn man immer nur ein Spiel spielt. Demjenigen kann ich nur sagen, eigentlich nicht und zur Not nimmt man halt mal ein anderes Spiel, sofern alle anderen dieses auch besitzen.

Vorbereitung

Da jede LAN-Party einer bestimmten Vorbereitung bedarf habe ich mich nun daran gesetzt und auf meinem Macbook die kostenlose Emulations-Software Virtual Box installiert um mit dieser zeitweilig ein Windows auf meinem geliebten Mac zu installieren. Die installation klappte erstaunlich gut und auch das einspielen der neuesten Windowsupdates war erstaunlicherweise kein Problem.

Da nun die Betriebsystemgrundlage stand konnte ich anfangen mich nach den Spielen um zu sehen. Da ich vor Jahren einmal von meinem Cousin das Computerspiel Unreal Tournament 2004 bekommen hatte wollte ich es mit diesem zuerst probieren, jedoch wie schon vermutet war die DVD, die zur Installation notwendig gewesen wäre, unauffindbar. Da ich nun, um Unreal Tournament 2004 dennoch spielen zu können, mir das Spiel neu kaufen wollte, allerdings diesmal gleich für Mac, fuhr ich nun mit dem Bus in die Stadt, um in unserem regionalen Games Stop dieses Spiel zu bestellen. In erstaunen versetzte mich jedoch die Aussage des Verkäufers, das Unreal Tournament 2004 für Mac auf dem deutschen Index der verbotenen Spiele stehe, die Windowsversion jedoch nicht. Da ich allerdings nicht an der Windowsversion interresiert war, musste ich unverrichteter Dinge den Rückzug antrehten und mich damit begnügen, das Spiel, welches ich ja als Windowsversion schon besas, zu suchen. Nach einigem suchen im eigenen Zimmer versuchte ich mein Glück in dem Zimmer meines Bruders und siehe da, auf dem Monitor lag mein Unreal Tournament 2004, so das ich den ersten Teil meiner LAN-Spiele-Sammlung bereits zusammen hatte.

Nun fehlte nur noch Counter Strike, welches ich allerdings erst als Backup von einem anderen PC ziehen musste.

Schon erstaunlich, was für Schätze man nebenbei noch so findet, so habe ich mein seit 3 Jahren vermisstes Dungeon Siege wiedergefunden und nebenbei die seit Monaten verschollene Expansion-CD von Diablo 2.

Zu Früh gefreut, das ach so tolle Virtual Box stürzt jedes mal ab, wenn es um grafisch aufwendigere Anwendungen geht, so das ich nun gezwungen war, einen Dualboot einzurichten, mithilfe des von Apple mitgelieferten Tools BootCamp, da ich schon einmal einen solchen Dualboot hatte, war die einrichtung kein Problem, jedoch zeitlich trotzdem Aufwändig.

Partitionierung der Festplatte fast abgeschlossen und dann kommt eine Fehlermeldung, das zu wenig zusammenhängender Speicherplatz verfügbar ist. So ein Mist, also erstmal Backups machen, damit wenigstens der Filmeordner leer ist. Alles zusammensuchen, in einen Ordner packen, 10 GB plus 12 GB Müll, den ich nicht mehr brauche. So nun noch schnell auf die externe Festplatte... Mist die hat nur noch 2 GB frei, aber ich hatte da doch irgendwo noch eine 40 GB Festplatte rumliegen... Wer sucht der findet, zum Glück bin ich ja so ein geduldiger Mensch. So nun schnell die Festplatte in das externe gehäuse einbauen, wobei ich erstmal das externe Gehäuse freilegen muss, oha, Pudding von vor einer Woche, der lebt ja schon fast wieder... So ich bin auf Gold gestoßen, die Festplatte ist nach einiger fummelei im Gehäuse, da soll noch mal jemand sagen, das ein Nerd nicht weis wie man fummelt :-). Und anschließen... Incompatible format, also auch noch neu formatieren, langsam bin ich mit meiner Geduld am Ende. Formatierung abgeschlossen, Backups überspielen, ein paar Minuten warten, jetzt kann es richtig losgehen, auf zum 2ten Versuch.

Was man nicht alles auf sich nimmt für eine LAN-Party.

Nach dreimaligem Absturz war es dann endlich soweit, eine bootfähige Partition, das installieren von Windows war dann nur noch Routine, die allerdings auch wieder Zeit in anspruch nahm und das alles Nachts halb Eins.

25.08.2008 00:54 Versuch 1 schlug fehl, weil ich den falschen Serialkey hatte für Windows XP, doch noch gebe ich nicht auf, bis zum Morgengrauen sinde es noch 4 Stunden, auch wenn es dann ein grausammer Morgen wird.

25.08.2008 01:49 Es ist Vollbracht, schon beim 2ten Versuch funktionierte Windows XP. Auch der anschleißende Softwaretest mit Counter Strike 1.6 funktionierte, so das ich nun, zwar fix und fertig, aber bereit für die LAN-Party bin. Manchmal muss ein Nerd eben tun, was ein Nerd eben tun muss.

Morgen ist dann der Test von Unreal Tournament, Diablo 2, Warcraft 3, Dungeon Siege und Star Trek Voyager Elite Force dran, aber bis dahin gönne ich mir einfach noch ein paar Stunden schlaf, die wohl wirklich verdient sind :-)!

Mit einem Schon fast wieder guten Morgen, verabschiede ich mich erst einmal vorläufig von euch.

Angekommen, Tag 1

So ich bin soeben bei unserem Gastgeber angekommen, danke an Kochi, der mich mitgenommen hat an den Arsche der Welt. Schnell Laptop aufgebaut, System gestartet... WTF, der Nachbar hat ein offenes W-Lan-Netz, noch bevor das eigentliche Netzwerk steht, bin ich schon wieder online, dank Laptop und W-Lan kann ich nun ins Internet, wärend alle anderen noch ihre Computer aufbauen und das Netzwerk konfiguerieren, also auch einen Dank an Apple, für den Bau des des Macbooks, der mir nun mein Leben versüßt.

I have to be a woman of integrity (and mystery) for a few more days until a few details are ironed out. 

I am hoping to move into the city--ie Philly--before the end of the year.  I am going to start seriously looking at the end of September.  I know...my timing isn't so great.  The summer is a better time to find a place with the influx and outflux of students.  But, my life doesn't work like the average person's.  I find jobs at the worst time of year.  I started working for the publisher in Boston in November.  Who starts a new job in November?  When I started at the bank, I started in December--again, not the hottest hiring time of the year.  So I am fully sure that I am going to find a fabulous apartment, in the neighborhood that I want to abide, for a price that will make your jaw drop.

Enough of the teaser.  For the next week (ie starting on Monday) I'm going to have a series on change.  It's yet to take shape/form, but be on the lookout :)

Wardrobe
Your appearance is your first impression. If you dress down too much then you end up looking sloppy. If you dress up too much you look stuffy since it is a social event. Whatever you wear, make sure you look fresh. No one wants to talk to the person who looks like they've just had a long day at work.

Background Work
First and foremost find out who may be attending the event. Most of the time you'll be able to find a member list of companies involved online. While you may not know the specific people that show up to the event, if you can connect yourself to the company you at least have something to say.

Sales Pitch
You're marketing yourself and you better be ready with a line when someone approaches you. Think about your goal for the event. Are you there for a job? Are you there for networking? Are you there to attempt to get donations or funding? Focus your spiel on your goal for the event.

Follow-up
Lindsey Pollak has a great suggestion for dealing with follow-up and how to know if people really want to speak with you again.

Relatedly, I will attempt to keep a video blog while I'm a couple thousand miles away. I'll host it on youtube, then supply the links here. I may try a write up a night or two, but the truth is that they would be barely coherent. It wears you out more than anything I've ever done. So, anyone who wants to keep up...

So, six days until ES, 21 days until I fly out to MD, and 26 days until I'm back on campus. Of course, seven of those days will be in ES, so it feels like even less...summer is wrapping up quickly. And unlike Dunbar, I can't stand the thought of slowing time down. It's all about avoiding boredom. A la Catch-22.

Yeah, if I haven't seen you...today, I miss you. But, that's part of life, I suppose. A stupid part of life, but one nevertheless.

Random: Some lady jst stopped by the house to ask if she could pick apples from our tree. At midnight when she gets off work. Nashville is a wonderful and strange place....

On the 16th Of July 2008 I went on a outing to a popular theme park.

Its called Thorpe Park -  Click here to see it

In that theme park is the UK's HIGHEST and FASTEST ride!

Its known as Stealth and do you want to know that best part?

I rode it!!!!

I wont be doing it again because its too fast and I couldnt keep my eyes open most the time! It was a dare set to me by my friends!

Anyway, Do you want to see some pictures?

I had LOADS of pictures of me and my friends going to the rides, shops and things, and because I didnt want to publish me or my friends I had to take some pictures of the surroundings!

I'm sure you'll still love them. (Click them to enlarge!)

Ok, so the following image is of a Tram? I think its a Tram or train. Either one, it still looks pretty good.

Next we have a picture of a Bus Shelter. Can you see the first lady on the left? I think she saw me taking the picture :lol:

Here is the weird bendy roads that they have in that area... Ooo Nice motorbike! Look! London skies! It was raining an hour before.

Still on the same road and we will find This Coca Cola advertisment. That board is known 'Billboard' as a Oddly, I was holding a bottle of Cola at the time ¬¬

And finally to our last picture.

This is the lovely inside on our mode of transport - The Coach! Air Conditioned too.

Thats all. I would have posted more but I hope you understand why I didnt post them.

~~~~~~~~

I hope you like my blog! I love it!!... For some reason.

Next week I hope to have scanned in something for you. Can't reveal what it is right now, but you might like it.

So until my next post - Just Imagine That World…

- Mr Funguin. -

I spent an hour or so in-game that night, and ended up asking myself why I’d bothered; it just wasn’t any fun at all, and the combat seemed shallow and rudimentary compared to Vanguard. I did reconnect with my former guild, which is still very active. I did, however, hit level 38. Last night I tried it again, and it was a little better – and I managed to get all the way to 40.

The newest major WoW patch lowered the level requirement for mounts to 30. This is a good move, although I think most 30s lacking outside financing are going to have a tough time coming up with the gold needed to get one on time. As a Paladin, I get a free mount (well, not free, but I only have to buy an ability from the trainer,) and I have to say that the riding animation is startlingly lame. I don’t know that this is true across the board, but my huge Draenei riding on what appears to be a dwarf pony looks pretty bad. Regular mounts scale to the size of the rider – why don’t Paladin mounts? The extra speed is nice (it’s +60%,) but the mounts in Vanguard are approximately a hundred times cooler.

Anyway, last night was sort of fun. I’m going to try to ration myself on WoW this time around, to see if only playing one, maybe two nights a week will keep me from getting bored with it as quickly as I always have. Vanguard is and will remain my primary MMO.