I wrote four songs in four days and wrote code that compiles cleanly for work. Sleep shmeep.

RealTime - 4.34 MB zipped MP3 - Zany R&D (Feb 21)

Ringing - 4.35 MB zipped MP3 - Sidstation Ballad (Feb 22)

RootTail - 2.02 MB zipped MP3 - Nerf Rock (Feb 23)

Reply - 3.45 MB zipped MP3 - Angsta Rap (Feb 24)

I guess they need words and polishing. Boop doop

I really wish I didn't have to sleep, I've been on a roll and I get annoyed when I'm slowed down by the effects of sleep deprivation. One thing in particular that bugs me is that my vision blurs to the point where I have trouble telling the comma and period characters apart, even after I make the font really big. This makes it hard to catch typing errors which result in hard to spot bugs. Typing errors occur when I start thinking about my hands.

I moved my bed out of my room and into the room I've supposedly been trying to rent out. I decided to use the space, as long as I'm paying for it. Since then, this room has taken on a really productive atmosphere. No rest is to occur in here, and I don't catch the lazies from my bed being right behind me. Even now, tired tired tired, I'm loathe to walk down the hall just so I can get in bed and remain there doing nothing for several hours.

Other fun thing to do: Use my DSL router as a thing to practice using SNMP on. Soon an actual T-1 will be brought to my house (signaling method: B8ZS/ESF), and I'll have real live Cisco equipment to poke, but for now, I can see if I ever hit my bandwidth limit. (So far, I get to about 60% on my graphs, but those are 5 minute averages. I've seen the rate hit 105 KB/sec in app meters.)

Now I have room for THREE desks in here!

I'll be in Budapest in mid-may and Amsterdam in mid-september for work, so I'm going to apply for a passport today. I need 1) Birth certificate with raised stamp from city 2) Valid Drivers License or other state issued photo ID card 3) cash money. This document proves to everyone that I'm not some undesirable cuban or hong kongian trying to muscle my way into american shores to help myself to some complimentary asylum. It especially proves that to the grouchy men and women of the immigration service that ask me personal questions for some reason. Maybe their training is to ask questions that you wouldn't have already thought of a lie for. ("Where were you born?") ("Where do you work?" "uhhhh.....Mc...er..Microsoft?")

My 30 yr old sister called me needing a loan so she could buy a car. Hmm. naaaah. I would give it to her if I had a car already. Ooh, drivers license, thats something else to get.