11.03am
Thursday
20 January 2005
All that holiday-inspired slack really had me almost forget how fun it is to commit important code. It's the best, though. Whooop! Into the tree it goes, making boxes everywhere happier.
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Out for Mexican tonight with a group of people I like a good bit; enough to want to go out with despite the vague impetus to not spend any money today. Off to Bacchanalia once more in a week, in order to happily share the magnificent experience with miss Elise. Bridgetown Grill with Bonnie night after tomorrow, and a goal to invite people over for dinner at the house more often. Soup Night seems to have finally croaked its last, alas, but that seems a sign that I need to orchestrate more lovely casual open-invitation dinners.
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More and more I wish I had a more anonymous webpresence. People everywhere I read are constantly going through sticky issues between their real and digital lives. It would be a little fun to have a freelance webdesign page here, and a totally pseudonym-laced domain somewhere else for all my narcissism. Z's archives make me crave a sex journal, but there are so many people here who would be a little uncomfortable with that, not to mention how closely this page is linked with my name in general, but the idea that someone who might be interested in reading all my innermost thoughts, personal or otherwise, can do so and be well-rewarded for their interest with hoards of journal entries and ramblings is appealing to me. I believe that I have yet to meet someone as a result of this page, though I know there are certainly people who have read lots of it before really knowing me in person very well. This is not so disturbing to me as I might let it be. It is also not so disturbing to me as the fact that this place has become as holy hella boring as ever. I'm sorry to all you people who troop on over here into the middle of nowhere for nothing. And we all know how panaceatic sex is for boring journals.
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The opera was absolutely beautiful, as was the Fox. It is the first step in my evolution towards more fancy evenings, including, but not limited to: art gallery openings, old-style swanky nightclubs with fabulously sultry lounge singers, orchestral ensembles and symphonies, and FUCKING FORMAL GALAS AND BALLS WHERE ARE THE GROWNUP FANCY BALLS AND WHY AM I NOT INVITED?>?