Another day, another entry.

Earl went home yesterday morning, which made very little impact on me until I got to class and suddenly realised that my brain had shut down. My homework might as well have been in Tamil, and knowing that the apartment would be empty when I got home didn't help. Luckily for my mood he phoned almost as soon as I got in the door, and we had a sweet discussion about the Hugos (I sent in my ballot this morning, right before the deadline) and how much we missed each other.

I told Sean about my journal. His reaction was sort of blank incomprehension, until I told him to think of it as an open letter, and that he and Stephanie could read it since I only sent them email once every three months or so. I'm not sure whether or not he'll read it, or actually find it interesting. Why am I the only person I know who's nosy? I love the idea of reading someone's journal. Even if it's a public one.

I'm listening to Rush right now, in my cube, with the volume turned really low so the usability lab people don't complain -- not that I'd listen if they did, since they tend to stand outside my cube in big clumps and discuss their lunch plans at high volume. Anyway, it's the same mix tape as before, with all the songs Neil thought I needed to hear four years ago. It's a good tape; I'd get rid of Big Money, probably, but only one disagreement over sixty minutes of music isn't bad.

People walking by my cube are stopping and staring into it. I've turned the music down a little more, but this is a seriously cheap tape player. It doesn't have much in the way of subtle volume control. Oh, to be a programmer! To have a job where I can put on headphones and listen to music while typing away frantically for hours on end!

Yes, dear readers, if I am in my cube to type these words it's likely I'm not doing my job properly. My excuse today is that a) I need to fix Rita's netscape problem, which is best done from my desk, and b) I don't have any new tickets except this nightmare four-machine move that I'm putting off until Monday.

Sean is reading. I know this because he told me about a problem with one of my pages. I'm pleased, and the problem is now fixed.

I'm trying to make tapes again, although I know better than to attempt mix tapes. I waffle too much to make good mix tapes, especially when I have to do every single song individually instead of programming in a bunch of tracks. Hopefully once I'm in LA and have access to Earl's 5-cd changer I'll become inspired.

Anyway, where was I? Oh, yes. I made a tape of Richard Thompson's The World is a Wonderful Place last night, and had just perfectly enough room to fit on the last four tracks from Watching the Dark. Further plans include:

• Fiona Apple (Tidal) / October Project (October Project)
• October Project (Falling Farther In) / 'til Tuesday (Voices Carry)
• Dar Williams (Mortal City) / Dar Williams (End of the Summer)
• Indigo Girls (Swamp Ophelia) / Indigo Girls (Shaming of the Sun)
• The Story (Plumb) / Sarah McLachlan (Solace)

That should give me enough new car music to keep me happy for a while.

I dreamed about the 'community' of online diarists last night. More specifically, I dreamt that my sister was getting married (true -- Earl and I are going to Chicago in two weeks for the wedding) and the ceremony was being held on a space station in near-earth orbit. For some reason Earl couldn't make it, so I invited this guy named Matt (completely a figment of my imagination) that I knew from journalling to be my escort. Apparently he lived on this space station or whatever, so this was convenient.

Except he didn't show up. So here I am, on this space station, phoning Gabby to say 'Hey, Matt didn't show up, can you check his diary and tell me what happened?'. And then she explains that Matt was secretly Ubiety (whose journal I would link to if I could but find it). From there on in it got pretty weird, with lots of strange diary entries pointing to significant clues. I spent most of the dream on a cell phone with Gabby. When I woke up at 6am, to throw the cat out of my room, I really wanted to send mail to diary-l and say 'I dreamed about all of you.'

Instead I'm just writing about it here.