Tom Smith has hopped onto LJ. Go say hi to filkertom!
I have other things I want to write about, including wrapping up my Boskone report and talking about this weekend. But right now, there’s something just a bit more important to say.
Welcome to this spinning globe, Grace Batya Rivkis. May you discover it’s wonder in your time, and make your mark upon it. We are all of us blessed to live in the time that you arrived.
From epi_lj, I find that quislibet has translated a large portion of Sir Mix-a-lot‘s seminal musing on caliphygian bounty into Latin
I just got another one of those annoying “We protected you from a virus!” emails. The thing that made this one noteworthy, though, was the oddity of its report. It starts by saying it wanted to warn me “that the e-mail sent by <not disclosed> to <not disclosed> is infected with virus”. It then proceeds to give two blocks of instruction, headed “If you are the sender” and “if you are the recipient”. Er, I’m not sure: am I <not disclosed>, or am I <not disclosed>. If only technology wasn’t so confusing…
Shout out to my pal Graham — welcome to LJ, musicmutt!
Happy birthday to the seriously cute magid!
Lots of cute usericons out there, but this one nearly made soda come out of my nose (courtesy of dpaul007)
Hey everyone, give a warm welcome to persistalismum.
…Sending out a welcome to one of one of my dearest friends, Teri W. Welcome to the timesink, teri945!
After much resistance, my sweetie has finally succumbed the madness that is LiveJournal. She says she doesn’t know how much she’ll say in it, but she’s onboard with the rest of us lunatics now.
Go say hi to kitanzi
I hate talking about myself.
I have very little trouble talking about just about anything under the sun that I’m interested in, at length. I can spend hours talking about music, or politics, or baseball, or comic books, or literature, or any one of a myriad of topics with passion and fervor. But when someone says “Tell me about yourself” I instantly lapse into deer-in-headlights mode. Perhaps, on reflection, I’m not very interested in myself.
So, who am i?
I am a 31 year old unix Systems Administrator who works for a communications company in Atlanta. I am single, with a long-term live-in girlfriend, four cats, and more books than shelf space. I am a musician and songwriter. I am a writer of fiction and non-fiction, with one collaborative novel (written with my best friend since jr. high and hopefully to be sold to someone). I am a liberal who voted for Dukakis, Clinton (twice) and Al Gore for president. I am a baseball fan who loves the Red Sox and the Braves. I am a voracious reader, who prefers SF and Fantasy, history, and literature.
I read the paragraph above, and I somehow feel like I haven’t really told you anything. I find it interesting that I, a person who has been expressing himself with the written word since the time I could hold a pencil, can’t come up with more than a disjointed list to answer the simple question “Who am I?”
We interact every day with other people, yet we only every touch the surface. The essence of a person can be found deep inside, and is only hinted at by the facets that flash in the light. “Who am I?” is more than a question of hobbies and jobs, it is the center of every person’s personal quest for identity and belonging.
It isn’t that I am not interested in myself — it’s that I simply don’t have an answer for you that seems both true and complete for me. And until I can find a satisfactory way to answer that question for myself, all I can offer you is a glimpse at the surface.
So here I am. Amazing.
A lot of my friends keep these things. I read them religiously, every day. I even keep a web page with links to them all so I can click through them every day. And all the while, I think to myself, “Gosh, that seems interesting. Why do all these people lead such interesting lives? My journal would be boring.”
I am yet convinced that this experiment will bear me out. But I’ve always believed that good things are worth doing. So I, with some trepitation, set out on this journey of self-discovery in my leaky, drafty boat. Who knows what we’ll find?