Print Story Dear Weather,
By nightflameblue (Thu Jan 15, 2009 at 05:50:26 AM EST) (all tags)
Eat me.

-28 F actual this morning when I woke up. -27 F as I made my way across the great wide open plain we call a parking lot. So cold that the highway a quarter mile away sounded like it was right next to me. The air's so dense you could shout and be heard several miles away.

It'd be interesting, if it wasn't so fucking horrible to stand in.

  • Weather
  • Words
  • Welcome to failsville, population: Me


Fuck dat yo. Givin' up.

Truth be told, even the dogs got up this morning, went to the bathroom outside, then came right back in and went back to bed. They had zero interest in that shit.

They're pretty much snow babies and LOVE cold weather. The fact that they gave up on the day before it even began was a BAD SIGN to me.

The cars both started fine, shockingly. Reliability rules.

Still, if not for that scarf wrapped tightly around my face, the walk across the parking lot would have likely turned br00talz. And not in the \m/ way, but more in the "FUCK ME, MY NOSE JUST FELL OFF" way.

Still trying to figure out why humans moved into parts of the world where the weather turns this vicious. Answers: I have none.


"You're going to make someone a hell of a wife someday, pretty girl."
"Whose wife will I be, Jake?"

So, after ignoring word counts for a few days my curiosity got the better of me and I whipped out the stats tab. In thirty-three days I've somehow managed a hundred thousand words. That officially makes it my longest work of singular fiction ever. Though I've written more words in less time, I can't remember enjoying it more.

And awkward moments and bumbling confessions begin to pile up around them, as twists and weirdness make me wonder if I can force them to wait for that trip. They're rushing headlong towards conclusion, while I still see six years in front of them.

"If I could only be so lucky."
"Maybe, you could be."

This is why they cannot be trusted. They've shown me too many possible points for that moment of revelation. Her sweet sixteen, the point their growth together froze. Her twenty-third, when he sweeps her off her feet yet again. Her thank you to him, when he realizes the feelings may actually be mutual. Countless little random moments, careful approaches, and subtle attempts at seduction by two people who don't know what they are doing around each other.

"I know you need me right now. I don't want to take advantage of you."
"You can't take advantage of someone that's willing."

And I have to filter them into a single coherent plot. Filter their dreams from their realities and their fantasies from their dreams. The course is set, but they confuse me with their wishes.

"Third, if you worry about one more thing tonight, I'm going to take you over my knee and spank you."
"You would. Wouldn't you?"
"I'd get you over my knee. I might get distracted and forget what I was doing after that."

You're naughty, naughty children. Now go spank each other. LEAVE HER PANTS ON! This time, anyway.

Welcome to failsville, population: Me

The new server is burning up the "never seen that before" mileage as fast as it can. For some reason the network cards can't lock a static IP. No idea why. It worked once, rebooted, and lost it. But, here's the kicker. They CAN pull a DHCP address. Not from the DHCP server, but from the IP phone server. DUBYA TEE EFF!? We even blocked those Mac addresses from the phone system, nothing. Still pulls an address from there.

So, it's on the network, but it's not in the right range.

Something fishy with that. I'll get to the bottom of it. Just have to figure out what's missing between DHCP and static configs. Gotta be something simple.


< beer bread the second, further experiments with brewing by-products | Stretch and Squash >
Dear Weather, | 4 comments (4 topical, 0 hidden) | Trackback
I think I have an answer by MartiniPhilosopher (4.00 / 1) #1 Thu Jan 15, 2009 at 10:56:32 AM EST
To get away from other humans.

The thing is, you are a victim of their success. Once it was shown that they could survive, possibly even thrive, in such climes civilization followed. Not very much at first. Just enough to make those who moved there a little bit more comfortable but as that level of comfort increased more and more civilization followed.

Whenever I hear one of those aforementioned douche bags pontificate about how dangerous [...] videogames are I get a little stabby. --Wil Wheaton.

my car started too by LilFlightTest (2.00 / 0) #2 Thu Jan 15, 2009 at 01:30:39 PM EST
but the garage door needed an assist. the car is still in the driveway til the man gets home because one person has to operate the button, the other has to help the door.

i also bundled up for work. I put on my insulated boots, a sweatshirt, my coat, put a hat on and both hoods up, a scarf over that, nice thick gloves...and when I got out of my car at work i realized i'd neglected my bottom half and my legs were freezing. shoulda gone for the long underwear too, given that I have a 5 minute walk across the parking lot to get to my car..

if de-virgination results in me being able to birth hammerhead sharks, SIGN ME UP!!! --misslake
About 5 years ago by johnny (4.00 / 1) #3 Thu Jan 15, 2009 at 04:37:53 PM EST
(really? seems like just last year) when I was working at Laszlo, I had a room in a rooming house in Somerville during the week (weekends at home with family). Although I did have a car there, it was a point of pride, etc, to ride my bicycle to work. Somerville to Cambridge, across Charles River, into Boston, across Boston to office.  A distance of about 5 or 6 miles. Not far. An hour's ride at most (depending on traffic).

Well anyway, a cold snap came in January. On the television, etc, everybody was saying "don't go outside unless you have to." But there was not much snow on the ground, and the roads were mostly clear.

So, being a macho man, I rode my bike to work. It was was about 0F.  Very freekin cold.

That night I was riding home. After only a mile, I was seriously cold (and I had all the heavy duty biking-in-winter gloves, etc). After 2.5 miles I came to the Longfellow Bridge. The wind was screaming down the Charles River basin. Wind chill was way below 0F.

My lungs started really burning. My eyes kind of froze up. I felt weak and faint. I thought I mght fall over (into traffic, under some car wheels). And about halfway over the bridge, my hands got so cold that I had no feeling in them at all. Could not work gears, could not work brakes. At the end of this bridge there's a merge, very dangerous to bikers. I could not stop or turn or signal. I just kept going, figuring I was going to get killed.

When I got to the other side, I ran into the first building I came to, dropping my bike outside. There was a person at a reception desk there who asked me what my business was. I said, "not dying". It was not only cold, it was scary, terrifying, I think-I-may-actually-die cold.  I stayed there about an hour to warm up. I think I may have called a taxi for the rest of the ride home, but I don't remember. All I remember is the terror of riding across that bridge.

The next several days I forgot my macho biker pride and drove my car to work.
Buy my books, dammit!

Yikes. by nightflameblue (2.00 / 0) #4 Fri Jan 16, 2009 at 02:53:16 AM EST
I have rules I make up outside the situation for dealing with temperatures. Walks beyond going across a parking lot? Not happening below five below. Bicycle? Nothing below ten above. Motorcycle? Nothing below 34 or so.

It's just too easy to think it doesn't seem that bad and then end up in a situation like you describe. Those years farming during the winter taught me to never try and judge the cold by how it feels. The human body is an amazing thing, but it's just not cut out to report cold properly to the brain. Things just start shutting off and you end up in those situations where it could be life or death far too quickly.

[ Parent ]
Dear Weather, | 4 comments (4 topical, 0 hidden) | Trackback