December 30th, 2009


(no subject)

I gotta admit it: sometimes I'm kind of psychotic. There are undeniable signs.

Back in the day, way, way back, I had a music composing program for DOS and the sound hardware of the time, the abilities of which boiled down to 'beep, boop'. It was a tragically limited little program for early sound boards that could not even play .WAV samples, and I would spend whole crazy evenings of sheer adolescent glee putting together beepy renderings of some tune or other.

This was, perhaps, 15 years ago; but because I hoard, I still have the program and the beepy tunes in question lying around. And it turns out it works pretty well in the DOSbox emulator. So the other evening I fired it up, for nostalgia's sake.

... And then spent the whole evening trying to fix the inexpert beepy tunes of my teens, because they were just not right.

This is how I know I'm not normal.

Now back to work. I've got some lines of code that aren't properly aligned.

(no subject)


C. is on duty tonight, so I manage the kid, as per usual. Pick kid up at Nanny's place, feed kid, bathe kid, put kid to bed.

All went well until step three.

When I undressed him, the back of his bodysuit was the greasy kind of wet.

I peeled him further.

Somehow, somehow he'd leaked poop all over his back. This is actually not an exaggeration. Some even got down his sleeves.


Thank heavens, my ever mindful C. keeps a box of disposable plastic gloves for me under the changemat. I'll stray from my appointed gender role with complete unconcerned glee[*], but pawing at baby poop is where I DRAW THE LINE.

I went through three pairs of gloves while wiping the material off him.

During which he peed all over (and under) the changemat.


Now he's clean, in bed, and I'll be off to sprawl on the couch with a beer. Augh.

[*] I mean, I'm a guy with next to no chest hair, I love to cuddle and kiss, I like ponies (which I used to draw in my notebooks with brightly colored manes) and, uh, I take care of the kid while my partner's at work.