out of the blue

Oh no, someone let Smurf around tiny impressionable children again… I'm babysitting (yes, that means I'm responsible for someone else's life. Don't worry, I'm responsible for your lives too, though not ending them abruptly) for my little cousin. My aunt and uncle managed to foist their older daughter on some relatives, and they felt like going to a movie. So, I'm here at their house, using my uncle's copy of Photoshop and LiveJournaling, while my little cousin sleeps. Yes, I'm doing exactly what I'd do at home anyway, and I'm getting paid for it. Life is good.

Earlier tonight I went to my mom's choir concert, which is their last event of the year. They start again in August, which is a shame because that's when I'll be leaving for college. I like singing. Anyway, they sang a lot of songs from the past five years of church choir, and I knew a few of them, which was nice. Then some patriotic songs (I'm patriotic, but I don't support our country's decisions right now) that are fun to sing. I wish I knew the harmonies.

Pretty much all my church friends have left for the summer camp, so I won't be seeing them for a week. It's a shame, because that's ends over half of my social interaction while they're gone. Hopefully when Aaron gets back he'll want to do something. Anyone want to go have fun with me?

I'll know more about the job tomorrow.

What a busy day! I was up at 7:30 (impressively early) and I was immediately put to work on the garage sale, carrying large things such as desks and dressers outside, amid thousands of other small tasks. I had a bit of a break during which I finished my book, and that was somewhat relaxing, but when I finished I had nothing to do. It turned out that it was time that Laila's car wash was going on, so I rode my bike over to the Rite-Aid parking lot and joined in the madness. We would not get any customers in for a long period of time, then all at once the hordes of Khan himself would descend upon us and put us completely out of time, if not house, home and livestock. That lasted from 11ish (for me) until 4:30ish, I think. I got home, and was immediately dragged into taking down the garage sale, and carrying those heavy tables and dressers around some more. This time there was some variation, for instead of putting the furniture into the house, we moved it into the bed of the truck, hell-bent on reaching Goodwill in time to dispose of the illicit garage-sale materials before they got too hot for us to handle. But first I made them take me to frisbee.

Frisbee! The joy of my life! The wonder of the evening, with that glorious round orb settling gently towards the horizon in it's brilliance and power–only to have someone lay out in an insane dive to catch it before it finishes its descent in the endzone for a POINT! That was great fun, even though I was completely unable to catch ANYTHING when we were throwing discs around before the game. Fortunately, my skills improved once the adrenaline hit.

Next comes McMinnamins, a tasty bar-restaurant where they served me an unusual (if tasty) mixture of bread, ground, flattened and fried meat, bits of leaves and slices of fruit, with some exotic "special sauce". I got fries with mine, and a strawberry lemonade that they were kind enough to refill after my endless thirst had it's way with it. By this time, I was exhausted, but I still had before me the task of helping reconfigure the family room a little before having freedom.

The best part of the day was talking to Laila's very cool mom during the car wash, and learning that I probably will be able to get a job which was dangled to me on a silver platter, and will probably soon be handed. Without even having to submit an application before getting an interview. Glorious! I'll tell you more about it later, but I want to tell people in person (specifically Aaron) rather than having them read it on a LiveJournal. I'll inform the rest of you later. :)

Cat Stevens is upon my ear, strumming away and singing, and he is in my head, rearranging things and doing all the things that good music does to a tired mind. You all enjoy the rest of your evenings. Sleep well. I will have no trouble doing just that, and perhaps sooner than is typical.

Recently I pulled out a painting of mine that I'd worked on a bit, and decided to improve it some. Now, I'm rather stuck as to where to go next. If you would be willing to help me, go to DeviantArt and take a look, and tell me what you think could be improved.

(Two Worlds )

Garage Sale Update: I've been making loads of money from this thing. Last I looked, the total was nearing 2 dollars. :-D I just don't have all that much stuff I need to get rid of.

I'm going to be helping with my family's garage sale today and tomorrow. So, why not advertise here! If you want lots of good stuff, come to my house, and I'll be glad to sell you some of it.

That said, it's going to be a busy two days. So I won't be online too much. Have a nice weekend, folks. (If you want my address, send me an e-mail or IM me and I'll give it to you. If you're close enough to visit the garage sale, you might already have my address.)

Summer Frisbee is upon us. Throwing a disc around with all the NRSST students and alumni was great. I love it when I can ignore my allergies and run my body into the ground. Afterwards, I cough for a couple hours due to allergies/asthma, but it's worth it.

Personal Highlights of the Game
Leaping all the way over Nate, who was also jumping, in a spectacular block, only to have Nick catch it as it came down ten feet from where Nate was going to catch it. That was just wrong, Nick.

Pulling most of the way to the other side of the field, then chasing it down to guard the guy who picked it up, blocking them from ten feet away, then sprinting into the endzone to recieve (diving) a low throw from Korbe. Most beautiful play of the game. It involved a spectacular block, and a spectacular diving catch by yours truly.

A quick judgement on a throw, between someone's arms and right to Korbe in the endzone, after a quick series of throws down the field. The second fastest point of the game.

Catching a disc (thrown by the other team) at the very limit of my range, and forehanding it down to the endzone for a point.

</narcissism>

Thank you Cami for calling me, because I had completely forgotten about the game tonight. I owe you one!

Anyone is welcome to come along and play, whether you went to SST or not, whether you even live in Oregon or not. Heck, we'd probably welcome evil middle-easterners to play with us if they want. Just don't mention us to the FBI when you get arrested. If you want to join us, we're in Portland, OR, at Highland Park Middle School.

7000 SW Wilson Ave
Beaverton, OR 97008

We play Tuesdays and Saturdays from 6:00 PM until it gets dark or we lose too many people. Plenty of time to gloriously die from the exertion in a manner fit for a Viking warrior's death. They will sing songs of us for generations to come.

This seemed like a worthy meme thingy. So, I think I'll do it. (My requirements for doing these things is that they're either funny or insightful or awesome, and I'm in the mood for them.)

Name five [5] things you enjoy, even when no one around you wants to go out and play. What lowers your stress/blood pressure/anxiety level? Make your list, post it in your journal, then tag five [5] new people and ask them to post it to theirs:

1. Getting so lost in a book that when I think back on it later, I can't remember scanning the pages, but only the imagery in my head.
2. Reading about programming, and experimenting with cool new stuff.
3. Having a sketch or a painting turn out well.
4. Writing poetry.
5. Going alone into the wilderness and absorbing the peace and beauty.

I tag:
Anyone who feels like it.

Last week, on Friday, an occurance occurred that hasn't often occured before. I had been garage saling (at the same place Big Chris was on Saturday), after taking a shower. I rode my bike, and was putting my helmet on and taking it off with some regularity. Add to that the fact that it was raining off and on, and you've got an interesting hair situation. The strange part of this relates to the fact that when I got back, my hair was in tangles. That doesn't often happen. I ran my fingers through it to straigten it a tiny bit, and they got stuck. So, I did the unthinkable. I found my comb, and began running the strange apparatus through my hair. Perhaps it went unnoticed by the hordes of newspeople who are on the lookout for human-interest stories, but it certainly caused a stir in my house!

Mother: You're coming your hair?
Me: Yeah
Mother: You're combing your hair?
Me: Uh, yes.
Mother: You're coming your hair?
Me: Well, it was tangled…
Mother: You're combing your hair?

If this is something you don't do often, here's a quick step-by-step guide.

HOW TO COMB ONE'S HAIR

There are two major tools for straightening one's hair. The first, the hairbrush, can be found under the related how-to, "Brushing One's Hair" (p. 274). The second tool is the comb, which is covered in the following article.

Many people do not understand the ancient art of hair-combing. Some people may not have been exposed to it at all, living in cultures where combs do not exist or are in infrequent use, or living outside of culture entirely (see Tarzan, p. 877). Alternatively, some people have not seen hide nor tail of a comb ever since their mother stopped performing the menial task for them around age 17. Whatever the reason, some people do not know anything about the various strategies of combmanship. Since this is a basic manual, we will only cover the basics.

Holding the Comb
Although the most common use of the Comb is to make kazoos, it is not uncommon to straighten one's hair with them. An important point to stress is that one should not grasp the comb in the same manner as when playing music on it. Instead of grasping the ends, one should grab it in a sort of fist with the fingers along the top and the thumb in line with it. The spines should point towards the head, and the back of the hand should point away from it. The line of the comb should be parallel to the surface of the head.

Moving It through the Hair
The comb should be moved in a direction parallel to the strands of hair. A light pressure should be given so that the points brush against the scalp, and all the hairs are combed. (It should be noted that this is a general situation, and that more advanced combing techniques may involve artistic breaking of this rule. Before one breaks the rules, one should be sure to know them.) When the hair falls below the scalp, it may be necessary to pretend (see p. 680) that there is still scalp behind the hair in order that one will not forget to keep pressure on it to keep the spines in contact with the hair.

Dealing with Tangles
Sometimes, strands of hair will become worked into "tangles" (or, in layman's terms, "knots"). When this happens, combing may be painful, and not produce the desired results. Gentle combing may be in order, or the consultation of a professional (see Learning More). This phenomenon is beyond the scope of this guide.

Alternatives to Hair-Combing
Sometimes combing one's hair is necessary, but one really doesn't have the time required to learn a new skill. Alternatives may have unwanted side effects. Shaving it all off may give an unfortunate first impression. Wigs can be expensive, unconvincing, and also require combing, unless one is affluent enough to afford a new one on a regular basis. One advantage of wigs is that they can be hung up when not in use, thereby avoiding the condition known as "Bedheadedness." Hiring a personal hair stylist may also be out of one's price range, but is an acceptible alternative to billionaires, movie stars, or children of such persons.

Learning More
Some people consider it worth it to invest their valuable time in the study of the art of haircombing. Having a rudimnetary knowledge of the basics can be useful, but some people have professions what make it worth it, or are simply fascinated by the subject. If you want to know more, some of the following types of people may prove useful.

• Movie Stars*
• Reporters*
• Pansies
• Girls*
• Mothers
• Hair Stylists
• Barbers

* Beware of these people. They have a tendancy to think that people are stalking them, or may find such questioning insulting. Only refer to them if desperate.

I'm going to Everett with a few friends to visit Soren, Nathan and Becky. Should be very fun. See you guys when I get back! (Unless you're one of them, in which case I'll see you tonight!)

PHP is bloody useful to know. I found a short script somewhere that would list the contents of a directory. I modified it a bit, and made it link to every file in a directory. That way, I have a way to upload files to a directory and automatically generate a links page. I also made one that displays images. (Of course, you can't put anything in the directory besides images, or it screws up.) The image gallery generator strips the last four characters from the string to display a title for the picture, but (of course) still links to the actual image in the img tag.

The Magical Gallery Generator

Unfortunately, the sorting is a bit whacky. So, my next step is to learn how to manipulate arrays. I'm going to try blackmail, and if that doesn't work, I'll give them bribes until they give in.

PHP is fun. :)

That was wonderful. After being a bit irrational and stressed about making things work to go to Everett, I took a break from thinking, and just enjoyed myself. I brought a book into the family room and made a fresh strawberry milkshake (my second today). That wasn't nearly enough to satisfy, so after making a nice long playlist of a bunch of awesome songs (about two and a half hours). After polishing off my drink, I made some tea to contrast the milkshake, and curled up in a blanket on a large soft chair in the family room. Sitting there was close to perfection, with the music playing, every once in a while catching my attention and pulling me gently out of the story-world to smile at a familiar melody, my every emotion heightened by the delightful mixture of pleasures. The sounds of the music mixed with the words, overlaying, and pulling my attention this way and that. Eventually, my tea dwindled to a couple drinks in the bottom, and still later the last of the stragglers on my playlist wandered away. Just as the strains of Rocket Man faded from the room I reached the end of a chapter and closed the book slowly, realizing that it was the last song. The timing was perfect. It's now time for a shower, and then sleep. This just makes my day.