*when I fail
Thursday March 6, 2008
and I, I would honestly love you now
but I would lovingly let you down
Bleary-eyed and not so bushy-tailed. Perhaps my efforts in development would be justified if I had a massive audience, but I prefer to think that the handful of you are worth the hours invested. Currently working on adding hijaxing, which is apparently the buzzword for letting you use the back/forward buttons on your browser when you move back and forth in an ajax-driven website. History + ajax = hijax. Clever. Clever, but not so simply to implement. It’s nearly finished, but isn’t quite stable enough to push online at this hour.
I come away from this evening not only with yet even more javascript, but also a firm resolve to get a cat. Two, if I can manage it. We had dinner at a friend’s apartment (dinner and the finale of Project Runway – it seems that fashion show drama makes great television), and our host had cats. It was in the hour before dinner that I realized what it had taken so long to figure out, that code is not real code unless a cat is sitting on the keyboard while you work. And if the cat in question decides to attack your coat afterwards (“blast you, it’s inanimate!!“), so much the better.
if you feel the same way, then how can we be friends?
he’s right you know, we can’t go on like this
Snow again tomorrow. I swear, the weather is bipolar. 50° to 20° in less than a week. Snow in March is… okay, not so atypical, but is still simply wrong.
The Academic Decathlon team from my high school is off to State this weekend. I’m so proud…
Oh, speeches. Decathlon taught me how to speak. This has proved invaluable for the communications courses here at school, most recently for a presentation on the iPod. Or, rather, Uncyclopedia’s take on the subject. We’re hoping that the professor doesn’t mark us down too far for presenting blatantly false information, but (in our defense) it was more or less a perfectly formed presentation. (heh)
3am. … Thursday. “I could never get the hang of Thursdays.”
it’s better than silence