So hey, I got decent sleep. Too much, actually, because I have my standard “you slept too much, ya dummy!” headache. [My body doesn't tolerate more than about 8 hours of sleep in a 24-hour period without making me pay for it.] That said, I could still sleep some more given some Tylenol…

A quick note from Noah notes that the flooding hasn’t been as bad as before. He and his mom are at home right now to keep an eye on things around the house. Continued concern for them in your own particular idiom is appreciated.

Well, I crashed at home this afternoon around 3:30. I think I’m sleeping for everyone while they’re at Dragon*Con.

I’d've slept well, but I’m worried for Noah, whose family is stuck in a nasty flood area. I think he’s been evacuated, but they suffered a flood just three years ago and really don’t need another! That, and Noah’s going through some rough times right now. -sigh-

You may ask why I’d care about someone I’ve never met? The answer is complex; Noah and I really seem to get along, and even when we debate and disagree, it’s friendly. But that’s not a good answer. For some reason, he’s been put in my life, and vice versa. He thinks I’d care no matter my faith; I’m almost sure that the main reason I do care is because of my faith.

I was much colder and more callous before I truly accepted my faith, and to be quite honest, I probably wouldn’t have given a happy damn about a guy like Noah before then. My faith defines so much of who I am that it’s inseperable from my character [well, almost entirely; I still stupidly sin, but I'm getting better]. Honestly, I can’t think of myself as not a Christian at this point, and even when doubt creeps in [and it does, as it will for anyone of faith], I can recognize the source [my lack of faith being worked on by external forces who would seek to destroy it] and bridge the gap.

You’ve got to bridge the gap. I stand convinced that this world doesn’t make sense, but that it makes just a little more sense with faith. We’re not ever going to have Perfect Knowledge, so we have to have something to bridge the gap between what is Logical and what is Real, because what is Real contains things both Logical and Illogical.

For example, what’s the logic in Noah’s family being flooded again, or in the families in Xenia, OH getting smacked with a tornado in ‘89 that followed the path of the devastating ‘74 tornado to a T? What’s the logic in all the senseless things that happen in this world? Sure, I guess you can explain weather phenomena with causalities, but then where do those causalities go back to–some dinosaur farting 100 million years ago decided whether it’ll rain tomorrow in Huntsville? What’s Logical about that?

The tussle between Logic and Faith is always going on within me, but you know, Faith usually wins. Why? Faith has answers for things that Logic does not. Faith isn’t perfect, but it has great intentions. Logic just is–it can really have no intentions. It’s obvious to me after living in this world that this world just doesn’t exist for existence’s sake; there’s something greater at work here, something mere Logic can’t explain. No wonder even ancient cultures looked to Faith to go where Logic cannot.

Too bad that all too often, the guys in charge of teaching the Faith have had ulterior motives at hand, usually involving power over society. As one who would be a teacher of Faith, I can tell you that my reason for teaching it is purely personal for each person I’ll try to reach: I want them to see my Faith, match it with their experience, and develop their own. That is all I can ask, and that is the Wesleyan tradition into which I’d seek to follow.

—–

I’d ramble on some more, but my brain is tired, and I think Heather or Katharine need some sleep about now. Okay, ladies, here it comes! -g-

Okay, I detest the Evil Empire. But since I’m forced to use Windows at work and choose to use it on one of my boxen at home [mainly to make my life simpler, as my schoolwork tends to require Windows-oriented software...-sigh-], I might as well upgrade to the newest version of IE, eh? I really like it–loads faster than IE5.x, has cookie management and such, and is purportedly better on standards. I’m a standards-Nazi, so hey, I should like it, right?

I’ll probably install it on Rufus when he comes to life. But I don’t think I’ll take the time to do it on Bocephus–he should soon be using Moz as a Debian box. =)

I have a nifty little folder I carry with me to class. It’s a leather-covered folder that holds a legal pad, business cards, papers, and … those alternating pop-up Post-It notes. Because of that, I am beginning to resemble Heather, Queen of the Post-It Note.

Currently to-do:

Class:

ISE 390 [Statistics]: Homework and Reading. [Actually, I've read through all the homework; it's cake.]

HY 101 [World Civ I]: Reading and Selection of a Paper Topic. Hmmmmm, who to pick, who to pick…?

MAE 493 [Design]: Memorandum and Refinement of Concept Description Document for Dr. Frederick [The CDD reads like, well, a bunch of engineers wrote it. It makes no sense unless you know the program in an out. It's time for a professional document writer to hack on it to make it a little more intelligible. That would be, uh, me.]

SGA:

Complete and Distribute F2001 Election Application. [Dammit, glad I looked at this list...]

Discuss Assembly Bill 01-02.01 with Judicial Council. [Yes, have to tell them I acted independently. I get to hear grousing. Oh well, I deserve it.]

Discuss House Bylaws with Anthony.

Write Assembly Bylaws. [No one else is going to do it, and they really, really, really need 'em.]

Home:

Unpack the last bit of stuff in trash bags.

Laundry. [Yeah. Loads.]

Unpack book boxes. [Two bookshelves, no waiting.]

Get Cooper’s stuff back to him. [I've only had those tarps and moving blankets a month...]

Internet:

Slap Together Design for ClubTodder.com. [Partially done; just have to do some more layout and play with Greymatter some...]

Install the motherboard on Rufus. [Which I've only had for what, three weeks? -sigh-]

Reinstall Debian on Bocephus. [Win2K is running exponentially slower on Bocephus. This will happen quickly.]

Get ClubTodder.net up and running. [In case you're curious, CT.n will be purely internal use; CT.c is the public site we want you to hit as often as you read IJSM. Well, maybe not.]

Whew. But I have a nice, light weekend in which to do it all. If I can get home tonight at a decent hour and get some things on this list cranked out, I’ll be happy. My weekend starts around 3:00 tomorrow, so that’s great. =)

All day yesterday, I thought I’d really get some stuff done last night. But instead of getting scads of things done, I did just a few things after I got home. Well, three: cook, eat, sleep. I intended to take a nap, and I woke up around…2:30. Blessedly, I stayed asleep, waking around 5:15. So I’m feeling pretty good now…I’ve gotten sleep. =)

You know, too many people bitch about Dennis Miller on MNF: “He’s not funny,” “He’s over everyone’s head,” and “He thinks he’s so damned smart!” are common retorts when the subject’s brought up in most circles.

But I, on the other hand, love listening to Miller. It’s educational–for example, when he referred to semaphore [the art of communicating with flags] in discussing some referee’s call, most folks reeled in horror. I just laughed like a madman.

Really, do you want to listen to Boomer Esiason talk about how he would have kept his team going on the downside of a 41-9 blowout–or that he never would have been down by that much in the first place–or would you rather listen to Miller teach you something and make you think about football in relation to the rest of life? Me, I choose the latter, but then I want to be overeducated when I grow up.

So, if you like Dennis Miller’s insanity, I offer you this link to The Annotated Dennis Miller for last night’s game. I’m sad I missed it, but hey, the cool thing to note is that Al Michaels and Dan Fouts have gotten in the act. Really, football’s part of a larger American culture, and commentary such as this embraces that fact. It makes for high-brow TV, which doesn’t really seem to fly on primetime network TV, but hey.

Okay, okay, but it’s all Todd’s fault.

We [being myself, Todder, and Blaker] were watching TV Sunday night as I was about to walk out the door. A Christmas commercial came on screen, and Blake just lost it about how stupid it was to start this early. I said, “Yeah, only four shopping months until Christmas. Woo.” Blake and Todd were like, “Awww yeah, four months, baby.”

Of course, I then remembered that my birthday’s even closer. Heh. So, to help you poor saps out that might be so foolish^Wnice as to want to by me something for that glorious day [which is October 1st, the first day of the Federal Fiscal Year], here are two links to help you out:

My Amazon.com Wish List

My ThinkGeek Wish List

Yes, there are some I’d-never-expect-my-parents-to-spend-that-much things on there. You can even be so creative as to infer what I might like and go from there from these lists. [Hint: Don't buy me a Clancy novel, unless it's a hardcover copy of Red Storm Rising; I have the rest in hardcover already.] You don’t even have to buy me anything. But I thought some of you might like some ideas. Yo, ideas be here.

Herein lie the events of my weekend as I perceive them; I know you’ve all waited on pins and needles to read ‘em. [Not.]

Well, my worst fears have been realized; Toby is now with us only in spirit. May all the bruthas of Club Todder remember to bask in the sun a little every day, to be friendly with the bruthas at any opportunity, to find the chest of any willing female upon which to lay your head, and to speak only when you need to do so. Vaya con Dios, Toby.

I guess Todd’s taking it okay. Losing a pet is tough. I’ve been thinking about what happened when we lost Buttons my senior year at MSMS. I didn’t take it very well…guess that’s all I’m going to say on that.

Introduced Doug to the insanity that is IJSM. I haven’t pointed it out to my parents yet, but there’s a link on their Web browser. One of these days, I’ll point ‘em to it. Maybe then they’ll stop calling to find out what’s going on so much…=)

I got to go to church with Paul today. Specifically, I got to worship at his church. Seeing a friend you’ve known for many years actually preach from the pulpit is weird. If Paul would just look up a little more, he’d be an absolutely fabulous orator. [This coming from one who's very poor with eye contact for a variety of rather odd reasons.] That was an enjoyable experience, though.

I’m tired, but I’m home. I’m currently in violation of Rule One of Club Todder [Thou Shalt Not Store Thy Stuff in Public Areas of the Club] and have been for some time. Todd finally kicked me in the head [well, no, actually he asked nicely and I kicked myself in the head] about it today, and I’m going to go snag the last of it and pile it in the corner for sifting in the morning. I’d do it tonight, but I’m frankly too tired and need a good night’s sleep. I’ve just spent the last two hours chatting with Amy and doing homework for class.

Well, this entry is posted from Bocephus. Preparing to finish off Rufus [really], I’ve moved Bocephus to a lesser-traveled place in my bedroom and prepared him for conversion into a Web server and maybe a firewall. [My D-Link firewall does a passable job for the time being, but the ClubTodder.net network might need the extra added firepower.]

Tomorrow after my history class, I’ll be leaving for Tennessee. My brother is on the road there himself, and for a rare opportunity to have all four of us together, I couldn’t not go home this weekend.

Now, I gotta see if I can get Todder’s NIC up and running so he has access to the ClubTodder.net broadband service before I leave for the weekend.

Well, Toby’s not much better, but he’s apparently a little better. That’s all I know as of right now.

I’m still tired. My stress level is lower thanks to the princes of Michelob Light and Pizcola. Yes, Pizcola, a combination of pizco [a Chilean liquor made from grapes] and Coke. About 2/3 of the way through my Pizcola, I started yodeling, “Piz co la” like those bloody Ricola commercials. Set everyone in the room to laughing.

My brain is numb, and I can’t think of much else to write. I have to put my computers together when I get home tonight; maybe my brain will work then.

When you call your roommate to find out about his cat, and when he ends the report with, “And yeah, I read your post on your Web site, so you might as well share this info, too,” you have to chuckle. But that’s about it.

They’ve got Toby in an oxygen tent at the vet to try to help his breathing. They’ve given him a couple of shots and will be giving him a chest X-ray soon to see what’s up. But as Todd said, “He’s not in good shape at all.”

Update

Well, matters are worse. They’re trying to decide if it’s a case of pneumonia or heartworms–the latter being very rare in cats. The vet says he’s in critical condition. It ain’t lookin’ real good, folks.

Well, I’m happy to see that Amy finally got ‘cat.net most of the way backed up and such. Having been on the receiving end of some of Amy’s angst [and sometimes unfortunately being an ass to her about the work, remembering the work I did on the TOTK archives] during this process, and also having a glimmer of just how badly she wanted the updating done, I’m happy for her.

In case you’re curious, I just dug through the IJSM archives and updated all my links to specific ‘cat.net entries. They’re now pointing at the right place.

The chronicling of the last coupla days can wait…gotta write about what’s on my mind right now.

Todd comes in my room about ten after seven this morning. [Yes, he's home.] As soon as I’m clearly cognizant of the world, he asks, “Which vet did you take Toby to before?” I tell him, and then I ask what’s up. Apparently, Toby’s breathing like he just ran a marathon, and to put it simply, his back legs don’t work. They bow out like a madman, and he drags his paws rather than walking on them.

Needless to say, I’m worried as hell for the little guy. So’s Todd.

It’s a bitch to concentrate on work this morning…

Albeit barely.

As fall returns and students head back to dorm rooms almost as small as my bedroom in our apartment, UAH always has festivities for the incoming freshmen. Like a fool, I’ve been involved with them every year, once as a freshman [well, I wasn't really a freshman, but close], the last four years as a helper in some degree. Last year, I was almost in charge [or was, depending on who was asking]. This year, I’m just Security Man.

Do: Wear an orange shirt.

Don’t: Wear an orange shirt two sizes too small. Even if it’s free.

Do: Carry a flashlight, preferably a Maglite, for seeing into the crowd.

Don’t: Go out into the crowd, especially if they’re hockey players, especially if they all know you, especially if the reason you’ve been going out there is to keep them from starting crowdsurfing–unless you want to crowdsurf yourself. [They didn't get me off the ground very far, but if they had, I was a goner. I love those guys.]

Do: Wear light clothing.

Don’t: Wear it all day, especially if your socks have been wet for 12 hours and your feet resemble something old people eat for regularity’s sake.

Do: Take your shoes off.

Don’t: Park across the parking lot before doing so.

Do: Drink plenty of fluids.

Don’t: Drink any caffeine.

Do: Write this all up on your bloody weblog.

Don’t: Write it up at the SGA Office, because now, YOU FREAKING MORON, you have to drive home. And walk across the parking lot. Barefoot. Where hockey players probably roam. And won’t let you not crowdsurf this time. Moron.

Do: Stop before you’ve babbled into the nothingness of existence.

Don’t: Even think about setting your computer before going to bed. Not even for a minute.

Do: Pass Go.

Don’t: Collect 200USD.

It was one of those days for me yesterday.

I get home from work, and then I have financial business to attend to once I hit the mailbox. I get done with that, and I go to Wal-Mart. I find a few things [including a couple CD's I intended to bring in to work today], then when I check out…my cashier is Josh, my roommate from my sophomore year at UAH. I got to visit with him for all of 20 seconds; he will finish at UAH a semester after I do. Not bad for someone who was major drifting for the longest time…

I get home, and Toby’s fast asleep. I leave him be. I get a few things done around the house, then doze on the couch for an hour or so. I wake up, and it’s time to medicate Toby again. I find him, drag him out to the living room, and give him his stuff. Now, at first, he was cool with getting it–he realized it was making him better. But now that he’s stopped being nasty ugly sick, he doesn’t like it near as much.

Well, I settle back down to sleep on the futon [the path of least resistance]. I’m almost asleep at 1:30 or so, having watched an hour or so of The Right Stuff on DVD [bought that at Wal-Mart last night, I did], when I feel a whump on the frame and swish across my back.

“Hi, Toby!”

I am unused to sleeping with pets. I’ve had dogs most of my natural life, and they’ve never slept with me–well, if it’s been really, really cold, they have. As such, I’m unused to having anything else in my bed but, well, me. I try to get Toby to lie under his blanket; no dice. He insists on curling up by my knees; I finally acquiesce. But it takes me until almost 3:30 to go to sleep.

So that’s why this entry’s posted at 9:30 a.m. I had to get him up and medicate him–this time with a 1.5 cc dose, as this weekend I won’t be home to medicate him three times a day–and then shower and shave myself. Toby needs a bath, but hey, I’ve got this afternoon to do that.

Well, the little guy is feeling and looking better. His feet are the best they’ve looked in some time. He hasn’t had any more issues.

I’ve started trying to clean the carpet, and I just tossed the [unbelievably nasty] comforter of mine that he’s been lounging [among other things] on into the washer. The comforter was beyond hope and usability anyway, so if it’s fugly and nasty, I don’t mind…but I wanted to clean it anyway purely for the smell.

Okay, off to bed and early to rise.

Went home for lunch; Toby didn’t need a bath again [good thing], was pretty spry for the first time in a few days [even better thing], but didn’t like me giving him meds [bad thing]. I think he finally realized it’s helping him, though; either that, or he realizes that I weigh 30x what he does.

After I medicated him, he wanted to play a little bit. It was actually kinda hard to leave the little fella there by himself, because this is the first time he’s wanted to be around people since the night Todd left. All together now: AWWWWWWWWW!

Well, when I rousted Toby this morning, he hadn’t obviously been sick in the night. IOW, he didn’t need a bath. He didn’t fight me giving him meds like he did last night; poor guy was still pissed that I took him to that kazoo-invading vet! I figured out that one of the meds wasn’t good-tasting, so I gave it first; the good-tasting [I can smell it] med went second. He was easier on the second, to be sure.

Even better, he didn’t run like hell when we were done. I’d say that he’s on the way to being the normal, happy-go-lucky Tobelerone. That’s a good thing. I miss our fun little guy.

I guess taking today off was a damned good idea…

I’m sitting here about 2:30 or so, and Toby walks in. Lauren and I cleaned him up last night after he’d been sick a little yesterday. He came in here and positively reeked. I decided that was it. This was past nerves–the little guy needed to see a vet.

Frantic Amy call. Amy’s not home. Frantic Kat ICQ message. Kat’s at the dentist. Call Blake. Get Lauren’s number. Call Lauren, ask her who she’d go to. Lauren sets up an appointment as I give Toby his fourth bath this week. [The first he got because he needed one. The other three, he's gotten because he's been sick.]

I cart him off to the vet. He’s calm and cool. The only time he freaks is when they jam something up his kazoo to take a stool sample. I’d yowl, too. Other than that, he was Mr. Cool, like always. Vet says that he’s got bacteria in his system–I’ve got liquids to give him for that and the v&d for the next few days. Lunch will be at home so I can take care of Toby [he needs the stuff thrice a day], but hey, I’m really starting to like the little guy.

This also means another night on the couch. I type this post with Toby sitting in my floor, staring at me. He got on the couch with me for a few last night before I shooed him, afraid I’d squish him in the middle of the night. He’s not totally happy with me, but I swear, he looks like he feels a little better already.

Well, time to soak up a little TV, then off to the Wondergeeks’ Apartment. He needs some rest, and I need some time away from the house. If I leave, he’ll sleep. If I stay here, he’ll nap and then come out for a little rub every hour or so. The guy needs rest, and I’m gonna give it to him.

At this point, really, I’m not supposed to be working at TBE. I am anyway, mainly because I need money. =) But I woke up in the middle of the night and realized, “I am soooo not ready for classes to start in a week.” With Thursday and Friday gobbled up by work, the weekend and early next week gobbled up by Frosh Mosh 2001, and classes starting Wednesday, I went, “Oh schnikies, I need a day off.”

I took it. I didn’t hear weeping, wailing, and gnashing of teeth from work this morning. Probably drowned it out with my snores from sleeping late. Guilty pleasure, that–I’ll pay for it soon enough.

Well, I gotta go down into the valley here soon, go see what’s up with my scholarships and all, reserve textbooks or heck, maybe even get ‘em bought, and all that stuff. I still have one class to register for, but it won’t have a text with it, so that’s cool.

“21 Hours” is my mantra for the fall. “Twelve Hours” will be my mantra for the spring. =)

There is absolutely nothing going on at work this afternoon. I’m seriously considering going home early because of that.

Blah. At least I have classes picked out for the fall. But does my advisor answer my emails? No.

Doesn’t help that I slept on the futon last night to keep Toby calmed down and didn’t sleep worth a damn. Oh well, I like the little guy.

Leaving keeps seeming like a better and better idea…seven hours ought to do it today.

Sit back, weary traveler, and listen to the latest in the Post Work Fun 231 lecture series, “How to Drive Yourself Crazy Each Night After Leaving Work.”

I get home from work. Toby’s been [I think] frankly crapping all over Todd’s bedroom. I figure, “I give him a day to do this, then I’ll clean up after him.” Sitting at my computer, I hear him hack–and see him standing over a pile of bile.

At the time, I was on ICQ with Amy, and since she’s a kittymommy and I’m just a would-be kittydaddy, I freak. “Ames, tell me what the hell’s wrong with our cat!”–or words to that effect. Amy reassured me–he’s probably pissed as hell and nervous to boot. I think about Toby’s summer:

1. Dragged cross-country by Todd from his happy home in California to Alabama. Multiple, very-late plane flights.

2. Dragged cross-state by Todd the next day down to Demopolis.

3. Stuck in a trailer with sometimes-good, sometimes-bad air conditioning in the “Asshole of Alabama”, as Todd calls it, with only Todd for company.

4. Randomly visited by strangers who will not leave him alone. Among the cabal is yours truly, to whom Toby actually takes a shine.

5. Dragged cross-state by Todd on Friday to Club Todder.

6. Randomly visited by strangers who will not leave him alone. Of course, he was being an uber-catslut.

7. Left by Todd, who’s in Chile right now, with yours truly [the would-be kittydaddy] and Blake, who has the healthy male dislike for things feline.

Poor Toblerone has had a shitty summer. I think I’d puke a few times, too.

A phone call comes in: it’s Jason Atkinson from alt.books.tom-clancy. The younger of the Junkyard Dogs, he’s in town for the night. Plans are made to meet him at El Camino Real in SE Huntsvegas. I leave Blake a message: “Toby’s not crapping everywhere, he’s puking everywhere. I’ll get carpet cleaner on my way home.”

Jason and I [and later Local Lurker Extraordinaire Mike Stim] meet and eat dinner. I am regaled with tales of the Cadet Corps at Virginia Tech. Mike and I regale him with tales of engineering to come. I sense fear in him. Good. Jason regales us with tales of “the book”, the copy of [damnifIremember, but I think Hunt for Red October] that’s passing ’round the world to various a.b.t-c regulars, and why the Feds have had their hands on it at least twice. [That is all I am saying on the subject.]

I run off to SGA, expecting to have a meeting. The bums no-show me.

I come home; Blake is dead to the world, Lauren has cleaned Toby up. Toby is dehydrated [you would be, too, if you'd puked all damn day]. He curls up in my closet. I chase him out, knowing that he’ll stay there if I let him, and that it’s nowhere near his water, food, or litter box. After I leave him alone for a few, I peer into Todd’s bathroom–he’s finally at the water dish. I smile, coo at him a minute, and walk off. His good instincts will kick in, and if they don’t, Lauren’s resolved to take him to the vet tomorrow.

I dink around with the cable setup in my room. I figure out finally how to rearrange the bedroom–dueling computers across the Pine Expanse of Doom. This makes no sense to you now, Dear Reader, but it will when I have the new computer together and my bloody Webcam back active.

So now I ponder sleep, hoping that Toby will hydrate himself and stop ralphing all over the carpet, which I have yet to clean; that Jason will get himself and his mother home to Virginia safely; that SGA people will feel guilty that I spent 45 minutes in the SGA office and wasted 90 minutes of my night [counting travel time] on them; and that I’ll wake up at a decent hour so I can get started on Bedroom V.0.9. The 1.0 release will come when I get the TV stand installed; that should happen tomorrow night.

YAHOO! [Wait.] WOOHOO! Yeah, that’s better.

Tom’s Hardware Guide has dumped C|NET in favor of PriceGrabber.com. I think we’ll see better service from THG and PG in unison, and that’s good for those of us who like to know what we’re buying before we buy it.

Turns out Jason Atkinson, a longtime regular of alt.books.tom-clancy, is coming through Huntsvegas today. I hope to get to meet up with him tonight. If he’s turned 21 yet [likely not; IIRC, he's just a sophomore at VT], I want to buy this guy a beer. =)

I almost pulled off that rare feat on Slashdot: a first post that got modded up to 5. As it is, I got #2. Curse my metal body, I wasn’t fast enough!