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I'm sorry I'm too busy to give this historic anniversary the long and loving treatment it deserves, but:

It isn't often that the world changes, in a way that's so big and dramatic and unmistakable that everybody in the world sits up and takes notice, that everybody everywhere is conscious they are experiencing History with a big History Channel capital-H. The world itself seems smaller at these moments, as we sense our connection to each other and to history and to all time. And when one of those real, history-pivoting moments happens, 9 times out of 10 the event is something bad--an assassination or a disaster or a sneak attack. How many times in an average life does the whole world change for the better, overnight? Those moments are worth remembering.

I met Lisa ([ profile] papersource) ten years ago today. Happy anniversary, baby.

What did you think I was talking about?

(Further reading.)
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I think the Ukelele is adjusting to our move pretty well. I hope she is. We've thrown a lot at her this summer. First, of course, the arrival of her brother, ejecting her from the absolute center of our solar system into some kind of shared binary star formation (which, unless Star Trek has lied to me, are always at risk of collapsing or flying apart). Then the move to Utah, and with it a new house, new neighborhood, new preschool, new routines.

Her brother* is adjusting just fine. I know I haven't posted much at all about him yet. I will--love, after all, warrants yadda yadda--but as long as he remains a jovial bundle of smiles, chins, and drool, the imperious diva that is his sister is inevitably going to commandeer more than her share of our psychic resources. I'm sorry, little buddy: you seem to have inherited my big ears, my placid temperament, and my propensity to sit in a bouncy chair and be overlooked for hours.

Damn the Norwegians! )
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So E. has been in the hospital since Monday with some kind of infection. They've ruled out all the scary possibilities like meningitis and nobody is ultra concerned, but it is hard to sit with him there all covered with electrodes and IVs - he just doesn't have that much surface area to attach everything.

Plus the logistics of having one parent in the hospital with him at all times and then another parent taking care of a very energetic three-year-old at home. [ profile] papersource and I see each other in the hospital twice a day - kiss, pass off the car keys and parking pass, and that's that. It gets old fast.

Last night, [ profile] papersouce said, "We're like Ladyhawke." I HAD JUST BEEN THINKING THE EXACT SAME THING YO. We are geeks, wretched 80s geeks, but is there any doubt we were meant to be together?


Jun. 29th, 2007 11:36 am
robotnik2004: (Gilligan)

You know what deserves a yadda yadda... )

(OK, one more, just cause I'm in love:)

(Awwws welcome but not expected or required. We do do this every year.)
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A few days have gone by, but I'd be remiss if I didn't mention the [ profile] sneech515 / [ profile] dilyshaner wedding last weekend. The weather didn't entirely cooperate, but thunderheads and sheets of rain were no match for Sean & Dilys' 40,000 watts of goofy cheer. Highlights included:

  • Customized vows so romantic they made the minister cry. Boo-ya, that's like thirty extra wedding points.
  • Giving all the guests clown noses and making them wear them.
  • Sean's surprise musical number. I've known him for 20 years, I think that's the first time I've ever seen him sing.
  • Yuki's debut on the social scene, at least among that circle of friends. She was a superstar, cooing and charming everyone from start to finish.
  • Hammered bridesmaids! (Technically, I'm thinking of one bridesmaid and one female usher. But they were a lot of fun.)
  • Ahem... my speech, of course: (Gammafodder's was great, too.)

Love warrants a post; this kind of mushiness warrants an open bar or at least an LJ cut. )Yeah, that's two killer "is it getting dusty in here?" wedding speeches I've linked to. I'm available for bar mitzvahs, telethons, and corporate functions.

Congratulations, guys. Thanks for a beautiful party.
robotnik2004: (Default)

We're crying on the outside clowns!

Today is [ profile] papersource & my fourth wedding anniversary--that's the "diaper and formula anniversary," right? More romantic celebrations have been postponed until next week, when we'll be in Maryland with a posse of willing babysitters, but each year on this date I try to post a bit of wedding-related ephemera to melt the cold, black hearts of my readers. Voila, the New York Times "Vows" column (link opens a PDF) we used as a save-the-date. I hate explaining the joke, since it sounds like I'm just advertising my cleverness, but a lot of people were fooled, so: No, the column is not real. You'd think the WKRP and Good Will Hunting references, the description of L as an international art thief, and the claim that I was raised by wolves might have given that away, but a surprising number of people were taken in. It goes to show, if you get the fonts and layout right, people will believe anything.

For those secure enough in their own self-worth not to know, the NYT wedding announcements, aka the Sports section for aspiring brides, are a total scene--a pseudo-aristocracy of wealth, good smiles, and extremely conspicuous consumption. They're like wedding porn. And the money shot, to prolong a less than romantic metaphor, is the "Vows" column, which highlights the single most romantic / delightful / nauseating / instructive-for-the-peons wedding of each week. The super black belt ninja consumers featured therein are the very acme of David Brook's bourgeois bohemians, and proof positive that we're still living in the Gilded Age. And L & I, like every other yupster couple in our media-addled demographic, both despised them and longed to walk among them. (For an extended demonstration of this love-hate dynamic see Veiled Conceits, a blog dedicatedly solely to savaging the NYT wedding pages.) So, back when we were getting married, we had our gluten-free artisanal wedding cake and ate it too by constructing our own "Vows" column and distributing it to our guests with our save the date cards. (The original obviously didn't include actual pictures of our wedding, which hadn't yet happened at the time we mailed it out. We used pictures from Princess Mononoke instead--you can see them here. Weirdly, that didn't tip anyone off either.)

OK, maybe I am just advertising my own cleverness, or our cleverness, but just read the PDF, will ya? Obviously anyone eager to be my partner in such pseudo-ironic sublimation of glorious desire is a keeper. Plus she's awful cute.

I love you, baby. Everything has changed this year, but nothing has. I'm still the luckiest guy in the world.
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Early in the morning, full belly, clean bum
I got my cup of Cheerios in case I want some
Jacket, hat, diaper bag, carried out the door
And I know where we’re going cause we’ve been there before

First, thank you all so much for your emails and phone calls and congratulatory comments. The little one is doing great, and her mom is strong and brave and amazing, if a little tired. We still couldn't be more thrilled, and I can't wait to show Yuki off to all of you.

Blah Blah Blah Parenthood Parenthood Me Me Me
The closest analogy I can think of for what the last two weeks has felt like is falling in love. Falling deeply completely in love, 0 to 60 in five seconds. The same euphoria, the same fuzziness of head, the same inability to concentrate on anything except the object of my affections. Food tastes different. The weather's been gorgeous almost every day since she arrived, but I haven't noticed--or to the extent that I have, I've interpreted it as pathetic fallacy, merely the universe paying her tribute. I find myself flashing back to the last time I fell this hard for a girl.

I'll bet you're all thrilled I posted that. Because that's what people who don't have kids are looking for when they log on to the internet: "Boy, I'm dying to know what it's like to be a parent! Give me a treacly, narcissistic, self-satisfied post about breeding that glorifies the author and ever so subtly suggests my own life choices are lacking!" While people who already have kids are just on the edge of their seats to hear all the sage wisdom I've amassed in fourteen freaking days. I don't want to be That Dad, honest. I can't help it, though. Not yet. The "all baby all the time" phase will pass, I'm sure, but for now it remains in full effect.

Which is why God created LJ-cuts. )
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Please say hello to Yuki Josephine, born last night 2:43 am. She is perfect and healthy and beautiful and awesome and so is her mother. Yuki is shown here at about 30 minutes of age, weighing 8 pounds 0 ounces, and looking slightly dubious about the whole proposition.

Now I have to go back and stare at her some more.
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Here (behind the cut) is the front cover of the valentine I drew for [ profile] papersource one year ago today. She liked it, I think.

Not for the squeamish or seasonally depressed. You have been warned. )

p.s. We got home, eventually.
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Or, The Airing of the Grievances

OK. At least four people on my friends-list have had this coming for a while, so don't you all go thinking I'm talking about Matt. Here is the deal. If you keep a LiveJournal, and then you fall in love, and that love is requited, that warrants a post. A real post. Not three weeks of working it in sideways through cryptic sorta-kinda mentions that nobody but you and your new cutie will understand. Not just starting to talk about it like it's old news and everybody knows what you're on about. Not maintaining complete radio silence. Try to see it from my point of view. You post about games I'm never going to get to play in. You post when your world is crashing down around your ears. You post about what you might possibly like to have for lunch, or about the last ten songs on your iPod, or about how many words you wrote last night on Sekrit NaNoMo Projekt Q. When something good happens—when the best possible thing happens!—when love blooms!!—do me a favor, and justify the existence of LiveJournal by tapping out the news. Love warrants a post!

Frank Costanza: I've got a lot of things I want to get off my chest! )


Jun. 21st, 2005 05:25 pm
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I'd better skip ahead a bit, brother: yesterday was eaten up by moving stuff, and my desktop gets packed up tomorrow, and everything else gets packed up Thursday, and then we're in limbo for two weeks and I don't know how much I'll be online.

My 2001 entry was going to be about moving to JP, and the night my car was stolen and we were inexplicably traumatized by a little girl jive-dancing on the subway, coming back from a fancy dinner we couldn't afford. By extension, it was going to be about class and race in America and coming to terms with all that. Though I could have also talked about giving up finger-quotes for Lisa, or getting traction on the dissertation, or the time these dudes flew a couple of planes into some buildings. And then 2002 was all about weddings, ours and the seven others we went to that year. But some of you have been waiting patiently for me to get to gaming, and since it's half of what we talk about around here, I've got to cover it. I just don't know how to do it justice.

Big pile of gaming memories behind the cut. )

Yeah, you probably had to be there. But if you were there, thanks. Because we were there together.


Jun. 18th, 2005 11:53 am
robotnik2004: (Default)
Hey, kids: do you remember 1999?

Do you remember when there was a New Economy and we called the internet "cyberspace" and websites "new media" and the stock market was going up and up and up and "nobody can be told what the Matrix is" and every week another kid was a software billionaire? In 1999, half my students were cutting classes to sweet-talk venture capitalists and launch IPOs, and I thought about when I was 12 and split my time between playing D&D and programming Apple BASIC, but then I only kept one of those geeky hobbies going over the years, and in 1999 I asked myself, is it possible I backed the wrong horse?

Well, do ya? )
robotnik2004: (Default)

This post has a soundtrack! It's the song "The Rest of My Life" by the band Sloan, on the album Action Pact. I've been listening to it constantly for the last two weeks, which probably means that for the rest of my life, whenever I hear that song it will take me back to February 2005.

I started thinking 'bout the rest of my life )

Edit: Hey, I should point out that none of this is quite as impending as I might have made it seem. I mean, we won't be moving until July or August. Certainly not before L's school year is over. It's not like we're going to London tomorrow. Well, actually we are going to London tomorrow, but just for a visit. We're coming back Wednesday. Lots of time between Wednesday and July to see all you Bostonians and do stuff and game and not game and all that.
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Last year on this happy occasion I posted a picture from our wedding. This year on Lisa & my anniversary I’ll treat you to this manga version of a picture from our wedding one of L’s students drew for her.

Big Eyes Lisa Small Mouth Rob

Give the kid credit: drawing a big eyes, small mouth version of me (and more to the point, a small nose, small chin version of me) is pretty much a Sisyphean task. But re-imagining Lisa as a spunky magical girl powers go! anime heroine fighting evil by moonlight etc. etc. is all too easy. Heck, they practically made a movie about her already (link to movie trailer, worth the download time IMHO).

I love you more than anything, baby. Here’s to two wonderful, wonderful years. And, with any luck, to two more. :)


I also want to post something about the election, but we're about to head off to the internet-free side of Wolf Lake. You'll have to wait a few days for my brilliant punditry. Until then, [ profile] wordwolf and [ profile] mizalaina have got you covered.
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First things first: congratulations and whoops of excitement for Laura & Sean and Jessica & Jeremiah, and a warm, warm welcome to the world for Baby J and Baby N! Sorry this is both belated and impersonal. I hope I get to give all of you these congratulations in person or at least telephonically soon, and I can't wait to meet the two little cuties in question.

I missed some grownup birthdays too while I was interviewing at Pretty Big Southern U., so let's raise a glass to [ profile] editswlonghair, [ profile] equine_cocoon (I love the Bobby Bittman user icon), and America's own "Steve," who has resisted the temptation to give himself an idiotic LJ handle thus far, but might read here from time to time. And almost certainly some others I'm forgetting. Happy birthdays, all.

Lisa is in DC being Number One Daughter this week, which leaves me a bachelor until Saturday. Anyone who feels like entertaining me over the next couple of days is more than welcome to do so. (Her father is in great shape, by the way, recuperating very quickly. Thanks for all the well wishes—they obviously worked.)

Oh hey, I watched Kagemusha last night. You're right, it rocks. Though perhaps a little derivative of Kevin Kline's Dave. Toronto posse: did Lord Shingen/the Kagemusha remind anyone besides me of Grant Dixon? No? Just wondering.

A vague description of my PBSU trip follows in a friends-only post.
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Goddamn, you half-Japanese girls / you do it to me every time.
—Weezer, "El Scorcho"*

Read more... )
robotnik2004: (Default)
Lots of anniversaries today. Eighty-five years ago, the Great Powers signed an Armistice ending the First World War.

Tangent #1: I was walking around Harvard today wondering why nobody was wearing poppies. Do people not wear poppies on Armistice/Veterans/Remembrance Day anymore? Or, is it just a British Empire thing and it's taken me EIGHT YEARS HERE to notice they don't do it in the U.S.? Jeez, absent-minded professor much?

Tangent #2: The difference between the phrase "War to End All Wars" and the phrase "War on Terror" (sorry, "Terruh") is that one war had been over for several years before its nickname started sounding hollow and pathetic.

But enough prattling on about all that... let's talk about me!

Four years ago today, I asked Lisa out for our very first date. (Four years ago yesterday was the party at which we met, so in calling her the next day I was moving much more quickly than my romantic MO prior to that point would indicate. I do in fact know a good thing when I see it.)

And one year ago today, I posted the first throat-clearing little entries in this LiveJournal. Which is actually the point of today's post. Let's see. In one year, I appear to have made 71 journal entries. That strikes me as a fairly anemic rate of posting. 71 entries is about what [ profile] bryant or [ profile] mizalaina will generate in a fortnight.

Of course, I'm a busy, busy lad—and handsome, and well-dressed, too—but aren't we all? I'd like to think that I can come up with clever things to say, at least when I've gotten a good night's sleep. But I don't think I've fully embraced the Zen of weblogging, the proper "throw it at the Internet and see what sticks" abandon, the "if you write it, somebody will care." I'm always nixing entries before I write them, thinking "aw, nobody wants to read about that."

So what have those seventy-one posts been about? To quote an obscure but humorous television program featuring a family of jaundiced wisecracking urchins:

Bart: "Grandpa, why don't you tell us a story? You've led an interesting life."
Abe: "That's a lie and you know it!! But I have seen a LOT of movies..."

Or, in my case, "I have read a LOT of books..."

What can I say. My life does not generate a lot of thrilling LJ-able drama. Note: That is not a complaint. I'm an even-tempered guy. I don't have many rants in me. I'm far too happily married to generate dating drama a la (for example) the Accordion Guy's entertaining if often highly protracted serializations of his romantic misadventures. (He's an old college crony of mine, I kid because I love.) And I don't party enough or in hip enough area codes to do my man Gamma Fodder's atomic raver about town thang. L&I do go out fairly often for young marrieds—he said, defensively—we just don't stay out very long when we get there. I could write about my work, of course, but is the world really craving a weblog about the competitive era in early telephony? I don't have coworkers or even a commute to bitch about. I'm not writing a novel this month. I usually avoid comment on current events until I've had a century or so to gain perspective. And I firmly believe what my mother told me as a child: "Robbie, nobody cares about your dreams."

Thing is, I quite like reading all that stuff in everybody else's little cyberdiaries. Just can't bring myself to do it yet.

So this week, I'm going to take requests. What would you like to see in this space? More books? More gossip? More gaming? More chimps? Alternate history? Actual history? Personal history? Nothing at all, thanks? Should I dish about the people on my Friends list? Shall I remember/concoct embarrassing stories out of my past? Interested in what I had for lunch? Would you like to see my Which Carol Burnett Show Cast Member Am I? quiz results? Want to know how I would improve The Rockford Files if it were up to me? Should I regale you with tales of my job search? Maybe keep a running FOAD count in one corner? Want to hear about my hat for D02? Would you like to hear about the competitive era in early telephony? Or the social construction of technological systems? Want me to tell you just what the fuck your problem is? Now's your chance.

Anyway, thanks for reading. We know you have choices when you surf around reading stupid shit on the web and we value your support.
robotnik2004: (Default)

Lisa wouldn’t want me to put mushy personal stuff online, and you probably don’t either. So I’ll just say this and then shut up: marrying her was the smartest thing I’ve ever done. I love her more and more each day.

(It occurs to me that we have acres of wedding photos that our more indulgent relatives and friends might enjoy seeing online. I took a look at that photo gallery software that [ profile] krustukles, [ profile] gammafodder, and [ profile] mizalaina all use, but I couldn't make heads or tails of it.)


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