Hey, y'all. I sat down and made a brief list of everything I've been meaning to write about. There's a lot of stuff. It's almost frightening how entertaining even mundane things can be. For example, Chad had done his homework; apparently he's discovered that Orange County is home to about 30 percent of the country's donut shops. Who knew? Not only do I get the joys of BOTH Circle K and 7-11 out here, but it IS indeed true; there's a veritable smorgasborg of donut shops. Many of them are open 24 hours, in order to value-add to the service of...donut supplying, I guess. Is this not commercialism gone horribly awry? Other news: Time Crisis II is no longer my quarter-swallowing addiction. Since I can beat the whole game with my eyes closed, I've moved on to other games. I'm now preparing diligently for a life of second and third mortgages by repeatedly draining my Power Card on "Silent Scope" (and Silent Scope II, but who's counting?). Also good is "Crisis Zone," which is basically Time Crisis II with new levels...and a machine gun. Ho ho ho. It's odd...the best way to kill your addiction to "kid's stuff" like video games is to work in the industry. If I never see Heroes of Might and Magic III again, it'll be too soon. Same holds true for Civilization...and I only spent about 48 hours hacking at that. If nothing else, it's driven me away from my desk and back into the arcades. It's like going back to gang-banging for white boys. The real news is that tommorow (today?) I'll be moving into my HOUSE. Actually, not mine; I'll be moving into my ROOM. That's cool. I'm only there for about 45 days before I'm out looking for new digs again. Unless I can convince Daniel to move in here (and convince Lance to not turn that extra room into an office)...it's not a big deal, but MY GOD...this house is SWEET. I'm going to very thoroughly enjoy crashing here for the next month and a half. It's a four bedroom number that looks, inside and out, like a step below the place from Fresh Prince of Bel-Air. ...but then again, i'm used to roach-infested shitholes. And screaming kids at six in the morning, so it could be in South Central L.A., and I'd still consider it paradise, so long as the only noise before 10:00a.m. is some gunplay and maybe a screaming crackwhore. Crackwhores don't have the same vocal range as three year-olds. This will give me a decent chance to figure out what I still own. Packing in Charlotte was basically a matter of throwing everything into my car, so if it isn't in the backpack I've been living out of since January, I'm probably no longer aware of its existance. More importantly, claustrophobics will be able to ride in my car again when the piles and piles of crapola are removed. Ooh...gotta backtrack for a moment, though. I was in Charlotte last week. Here's the highlights really quickly: - Saw two plays: "Death and the Maiden" and "The Effects of Gamma Rays on Man-in-the-Moon Marigolds." (whew!) - Wrote an article for Freshmeat.net. Got a lot of hatemail for it. I love hatemail. - Hit Lupie's for MEATLOAF NIGHT. Don't be fooled; when you leave Charlotte, you WILL miss Lupie's. - Robbed my previous employer blind. More on this in a moment. - Slept very littled. Hacked quite a bit. - Saw "Pump up the Volume" for the first time. If anyone blows up an plane after reading my last email about airlines, I can be the next Christian Slater. Just call me Charles U. Farley. - Met "Gertrude" at the BareBones cast party. I'll get back to this next email. - Saw quite a few people on this list. - Other important stuff that'll hit me as soon as I send this email. ...so I visited my old employer's office suites last Friday. Every Friday they feed the whole staff pizza so the proles forget how badly they keep getting fucked by the upper one percent. So I thought it might be funny to sneak in and steal a box of pizza. I take about three steps towards the door and my old boss sees me with pizza in hand. He yelps, "Ryan!" I'm expecting this joke's gone very badly, but the next words out of his mouth are not, "Security!" In fact, they are something more akin to "Thank god you're here...there's some nasty bugs in the Mac code...can you fix them?" Here's your job-security tip for the day: Work for a Java-based company, and be the only guy who knows C. Bonus points if you can pick up PowerPC assembly language on-the-fly. With this in mind, I remind him that I don't work for free when I'm on vacation. "No, we'll pay you." "Yeah...but it ain't gonna cover my THERAPY BILLS for having to be here..." "Fifty bucks. An hour. Under the table." ... I mean, damn. I know good prostitutes that don't make that much. So I did some whoring of my own. For 11 hours. Not a typo. That'll finance the Palm IIIc that's on it's way to me...can't wait to try and get Eric's Ultimate Solitaire working on that thing. :) This is not overlooking the fact that this was a paid vacation on top of everything else...oh, yes. Life is good. So I gotta go. I need to get a little more Silent Scope in before this place closes for the night. Love me some sniping. More tommorow. --ryan.