It sometimes baffles me how the prol mind works. I have to do this chore, a site for a client (that’s their old site). And I need to show some work tomorrow. So I get up early and waste the morning blogging, and going to the post office. Then I waste some more time going to the shops for food and a storage box. Then I chat with some people. Then I start doing ANOTHER chore, something I’d never do… (anything to keep me from doing my duty) clear out a box of collectibles (cuttings, articles, photos) to put it in the storage box I bought. I end up reading half the articles and smiling at the pictures and reminiscing about the good old days. So around 2 pm… I reluctantly start on my original chore. Sigh. Now it’s 4.30 and what am I doing? Blogging again. I have NO discipline. Good thing I’m not a freelancer. Prol needs to be harnassed, locked up in an office all day.
Hey…now we’re truly going global: a new logger, ‘weblog wannabe’ from Jakarta, Indonesia. Selamat datang, Firda! Apa ‘weblog’ dalam bahasa Indonesia? (Saya tidak bisa bahasa Indonesia.)
So yeah, one of the things that really pisses me off is being raised bi-lingual (Dutch/English) when I could have been tri-lingual. (Indonesian). I understand basic Indonesian, very basic, far less than I understand German and French and other European languages. This is infuriating, when you are 50% Indonesian and it’s essentially your ‘mother tongue’. On the other hand… knowing German and French is more practical.
Must. stop. logging. and. get. to. work.
I’ve been glued to my log for the past few days, so it was good to get out and have drinks and dinner at The Waag (Society for Old and New Media) with a very old friend, an ex colleague from my days at Museum Catharijne Convent. The site does NOT convey the museum’s exquisite beauty: it’s located in a medieval nunnery in the centre of the city of Utrecht, an amazing place to work in. It was good to find out that not having seen each other for at least 4 years, and me drastically changing careers and both having gone through a relationship, didn’t matter. We picked up where we had left things, and had a grand old time. A great girls’ night out.
I’m liking the ‘Humanclick’ feature on this page. The interface is less cumbersome than ICQs (though nothing beats (m)IRC). So far, I’ve had chats with Jish, Neale, Chandler, Madhatter , Dave and Tom. It does take up a lot of time and I’m not sure I can keep the feature after my break ends. As a recovering IRC addict I need to be careful about my chatting habits…
Oral sex is like a game of Myst? From Maximonline: Women suspect that most guys approach oral sex like the game Doom. You’re a mercenary grunt running through an extraterrestrial labyrinth with demons hurling fireballs as you attempt to survive monster heads about to engulf you in flames. On behalf of women everywhere, I urge you to consider oral sex more like a game of Myst. You land on an island where all around you are mysterious objects; to reveal the next clue to the island’s big secret, you have to figure out these little machines and what they do. No explosives, nothing to kill, just your skill, patience, and the willingness to play for hours—with the understanding that what worked the past three (or 300) times you played may not work on this round. More where that came…
Just remembered something from a chat with a friend earlier this year. I think we were disussing ‘Never mind the Buzzcock’s Mark Lamarr who is always slagging Phil Jupitus for being fat. (WHY doesn’t Jupitus have a website?) That when the ‘fat’ guy has more sex appeal than Lamarr could ever dream of:
prol: ‘Women like funny.’
friend: ‘Men like tits.’
So there we have it, ladies and gentlemen. The cause of so much strife in our lives. :)