Even more.

What little I could see was very attractive, I thought. Not too thin. She squished well, bouncing off me.

Lois McMaster Bujold, A Civil Campaign

Priceless.

More.

"It's a brute-force approach," Miles said apologetically. "And not, alas, quite as simple as a data match." "That," murmured Gibbs, "is why enlisted men were invented." They smiled at each other in pleased understanding.

Lois McMaster Bujold, Komarr

Oh man, our managers talk of their minions in exactly the same way. I think this "delegation" thing is taught in both business and officer schools.

Books. Life.

"Ah." Miles started to turn away, but then added absently, "Do you want a kitten?"

Ivan stared at him. "Why in God's name would I want a kitten?"

"It would brighten your bachelor digs, you know. A bit of life and movement, to keep you company on your long, lonely nights."

"Get stuffed, Lord Auditor Coz."

Lois McMaster Bujold, Memory

I vividly remember having an almost exactly the same conversation. She's very good.

fic

10/10.

Scary

Mom is aware of this page. She does not read it. She might, one day. Her written English is not bad. Thank God this is censured. And I have a relatively good relationship with my mom, who knows way too much about me already. One day, I'll have a secure blog. Maybe even before my first paycheck (scheduled July 2006).

being Justin Frankel must be good

At least on my last birthday. That's quite an effective ad!

Hardware problems

My trusty old ASUS V6800 Deluxe (nVidia GeForce DDR 32MB ViVo) is having issues. I'm afraid it's dying. :-(

fic

Rambaldi Institute: *cough*Alias*cough*RJ'sfault*cough* A smiley to the first person to name the fic. :)

Reading

Girl Fiction. That's what I read. Harry Potter fan fiction written by adult Laurie R. King, Dorothy L. Sayers and Lois McMaster Bujold fangirls. I feel as if no amount of male technocratic geekiness will ever balance it out (owing to its lack of violence. "A generation of men raised by women"). Nonetheless, I will try with three thousand pages of Neal Stephenson's prose (well, the first third, anyway). Also on my desk (this time, literally) is a small number by William Makepeace Thacheray I burrowed from a co-worker (A real paper book! Haven't seen one of these in ages). Not as hefty as Vanity Fair, but is enough for the purposes of improving one's vocabulary (the owner complained the book is difficult to read without a dictionary). This weekend I need to finish installing Gentoo (at least to bring it to a usable state), write down at least the design for the CSS editor and prepare a lecture (with examples) for the "visitor" design pattern (that's software engineering). Also I need some fresh air and sleep. In the longer term planning and dreaming, something must be done with the developing potbelly and complete lack of love life. Eventually. Some day.