I just watched Tron for the first time, and I’m amazed at how influential a film it has been. I picked up references from SO many things, South Park to Family Guy…it was great.

My bed is covered with stuff, as usual, and I don’t want to clear it off.

I feel profoundly alone.

Christen’s moving to San Diego

Kelly’s moving to Elk Grove

I am so damn introverted.

I just wanted to mention that I still do Folding@Home, that distributed computing project to solve cancer and such. I just wanted to say that a month or so ago they FINALLY released a client for Intel-based Macs. With all due respect, they had never made a folding engine that worked on multiple-cored processors, and all the new Macs are multicore, so I guess that’s why it took so long, but I’ve been running the beta client 24/7 since it’s been out and I’ve been cranking work units at a pace much brisker (we’re talking at least a factor of two) than my old single core 3.0GHz Pentium 4 830. I don’t have any stats as of yet, because the new client doesn’t show you the estimated times to finishing work units, like the Windows client did, and it is comparing apples to oranges in that both clients use completely different instruction sets, but the underlying theory is valid:

My Mac Mini, being all brushed aluminum and silent, kicks the ass of my old LED fan-encrusted Pentium box.

So, without further ado, I link to my Folding@Home team. Me and Joe created it years ago, and I made the neat little graphic. I’m really interested in who the other contributors are. I’m sure they’re people I know, but still. I’m curious! Is it you?

Well, if the impulse to use your spare processor power to cure cancer and other diseases, you can check out the program here.

It’s called the HTC Advantage. They have it on T-Mobile Netherlands, why not in the U.S.?

*orgasm*

I’m happy to report that my speech-recognition program is back up and running. It’s never the speech-recognition program itself that dies, it’s Parallels Desktop, my virtual machine application, that is finicky.

I really wanted to write last night, so I just had to suck it up and Advil my way through a post. But today, by a combination of the new version of Parallels and this souped-up, stripped down install of windows that I learned about yesterday so now I have a slick, voice-recognition machine.

I’m just rather excited today. The panel in my human sexuality class went swimmingly. I was so surprised. It was me, Christen, and this other really cool girl up there. When I get really stressed out, and that making a lot of jokes, and I made a class bust up a few times. I love the things I come up with when I’m stressed. “…it ended up being this love tetrahedron” was one of my favorites.

A lot of the girls were really interested in the fact that my last ex was dating a girl now. Christen had some really cool things to say about discrimination and such. I felt really good afterwards… it was the sort of soul bearing that I do daily in my blog, but literally to an audience.

I’ve been getting a really strong urge to play Diablo II again, but I know that I shouldn’t. My wrists hurt already. I just hate not having a fantasy life anymore. I need to start writing again. I’m just really afraid of being called ridiculous. The first two chapters of the sci-fi novel I wrote when I was in high school are laughable when I read them now, but I love certain descriptions and sentences that took me months come up with. Me and Kelly work going to try to stimulate each other to write by posting short stories in this blog, but that didn’t really work. I need to take another creative writing class.

It makes you feel validated, when your story is the least ridiculous of the lot. And even if it is ridiculous, it’s good when yours is one of the best written. I keep flashing back to my creative writing class. There was this one story where the writer only identified any of the characters by their hair color. No other details were provided about what they looked like. It was the most horrible story I had ever read. Well, with the obvious exception of the one by Angela Guthrie *shudder*.

My damn chair broke today. It was one of those five dollar IKEA ones, and I was sort of, um, trying to recline in a non-reclining plastic chair, so I can’t say I’m surprised, but I have to go and get a new one home somehow. I’ll have to bungee cord it to my back, lol.

This stupid thing kills my back. I should go out and do something. Some dance dance revolution seems to be in order. I’ve been rocking out to this retarded song by Junior Senior all day. It’s so damn catchy, though.

I’ve been thinking a bit more about what happened with Adrian. Even though it was what I wanted, the moral implications of the situation were a recapitulation of why we could never be in a long-term relationship.

Me and Christen were talking about the similarities in what happened a few days ago and what happened to Christen when her uber ex Chris visited a month or so. We were talking about all of the bitchy girls that would leave comments on Chris’s profile hating Christen for dating him. I’m sure everyone that dated him thought they had some kind of special connection with him. And, I mean, I guess it’s true, if they dated… but what is so “special” about a relationship? Is it your inside jokes? Is it your memories? Is it sexual compatibility?

Well, I’m off to go do something athletic. Haven’t decided between DDR and a jog.

This morning I found myself in front of Adrian’s house.

It was so surreal. I took off my helmet, took out my phone, and called him. He had just woken up, and he came to open the front door for me. We made small talk while he made coffee for us, and we went down into his room.

He lent me this book on zombies, and we exchanged little bits of old inside jokes. It was nice to laugh with him.

I had felt horrible the night before, I remember my heart pounding and feeling like I was having a panic attack. When I would close my eyes, I felt this pain in my chest like my heart was going to implode…I knew what it was from, and I couldn’t get away from it until I fell asleep.

Adrian said that he hadn’t given me a hug since I’d come over, and the moment my arms were around him, something broke inside me. For months I would have given anything to be with him again, even though I knew it was a bad idea, and the pain of his completely cutting me off was so hard to bear. I started sobbing…but he kept holding me. Somehow we ended up sitting on the end of his bed, me still sobbing and him comforting me…I must have cried for a half-hour. Just when I thought it was going away, I flashed back to our last and first days together, and I kept sobbing.

I told him that I hadn’t wanted it to end like this, and that when we started seeing each other I had told him that there was going to be a time where I would want to hold him so badly but I wouldn’t be able to, and that it had happened.

I remember he was saying really nice things to me, and I eventually stopped crying. I would stop, but then realize that this would probably be the last time I was in his arms, and it would just make me break once more. I don’t know how long it took, but eventually I had cried out all the pain and told him everything I had wanted to. I felt so presumptuous…making such a scene like that, but I loved him. I love him. I always will.

Love tore us apart. Damn Joy Division.

I didn’t want to let go of him, because I knew it would be the last time. He had been kissing me softly on the neck, and I wanted so badly to feel his lips again, but I couldn’t…I kept thinking of the girlfriend…that it would be inappropriate of me, but it just happened, and I wanted to kill myself for doing the things I had done. I had wanted to just kiss him one more time, and it happened. I just…couldn’t believe…anything. The rest of the world meant nothing. It was just me and him. I want to live in that memory forever.

I did have to go to work that day, and although it was like pulling shrapnel out of my heart, I gave him one last kiss and we walked out to my scooter.

I ended up hugging him goodbye twice (I am such a sentimental fool). As I was about to ride away, he told me he loved me, and I told him I loved him too.

The rest of the day at work I was an automaton. I was devoting 2% of my brain to work, and the rest was still trying to put everything together. Today shattered a lot of my pent-up despair and longing, but that doesn’t mean it’s gone…they’re now scattered everywhere in my psyche like broken glass.

Adrian left today to go to Boston to see his cousin for a month.

I have no idea what any of this means.

I don’t know about anything.

I listened to the Blade Runner soundtrack all day. Nothing else seemed appropriate.

I feel like I’m a replicant, like I’m in another world…in my own bell jar, but it’s not suffocating…it’s being behind the glass. Nobody knows what this is. Nobody ever will.

I just have to be Albert Camus.

Sartre.

Pris.

Rachel.

Christen.

Anybody but me.

I just don’t know if I’ll ever get to the castle beyond the goblin city.