12:35 pm. People with baby kittens don't need alarm clocks. After trying to ignore the squealing for half an hour, I crawl out of bed. < sigh> Friday had been a late night; after getting home from the weekly gathering of modemers at a local pizza place, I < as usual> got online. Whee. The fun conversation on my favorite local chat tonight turned out to be an argument about whether I should be angry at a guy who's been making sexual advances after I've told him not to four or five times. He thought my anger unreasonable. I also discovered amazing facts of science:
Sine offers ceeb an e.l. fudge cookie.
Ceeb: < sniffs cookie>
Sine: they're yummy.
Ceeb: < cocks head> I dunno. it's got chocolate on it.
Sine: just in the middle.
Ceeb: see?
Sine: you have a sudden chocolate aversion?
Ceeb: I guess so.
Sine: i've seen you scarf down m&m's...
Ceeb: m&m's aren't chocolate. ;)
I made a note to call the M&M/Mars company in the morning.

1:30 pm After a quick shower, I decide to check in on Bamboo Gardens and leave Blade email about a few minor changes in the code for Scream 3. He breaks into chat; turns out he has a new project for me and he needs some help installing software. I wanna finish debugging the hypertext poetry anthology I'm building, so I agree to wander by around four. Fairly cool since he lives a whole seven blocks away.

Nothing much is happening on After Hours (the chat board), so I have to actually work. Just before leaving I load Minihost. Nothing like a modem answering machine to really confuse people.

4:20 Blade is, of course, on the phone when I get there. His room seems to be the place where zines go to die. I amuse myself while waiting by calculating how many dead trees are represented. Then I decide to name them all. Then... he does get off the phone, eventually.

Among the new projects he has for me is an interview with a guy who wrote a menstrual cycle tracking program. Something about paternity suit protection. Weird, but not unusual for Blade.

7:30 pm Frozen yogurt is on major sale at a grocery store that's kinda north, so I'm waiting for a bus. And waiting. And Waiting. If the driver's 20 minutes late, does it even matter anymore? i get the yogurt, then get to wait for a bus home. Apparently, I send out antibus pheromones; this one's late, too. And as I'm getting off to change buses, my shopping bag starts leaking frozen yogurt. The nutritional value of my pants has just increased, and my toes are sticky. I'm sure this is outweighed by the entertainment value of watching a woman struggle with a bus door while a thin white stream of fluid oozes from her green mesh bag. Too bad I'm not in the audience.

10:30 pm Home! I check my messages; a sysop friend wants me to check in on her place while she's out of town over the weekend and (oops) a guy I was sposed to go out with called and left a plaintive message about how hard I am to get hold of. I guess we'll have to reschedule. I log on to After Hours to see what's up. Someone's posted about a party, but it's way south and I don't feel like fighting the city bus system to get out there. I could prolly bum a ride in chat, but why bother? I'm too zenned out to move tonight anyway.

11:00 pm Checking on Bamboo Gardens again, I find out that I've fried Blade's hard drive. Or at least, he says I have. It's not like it hasn't been giving him problems lately anyway. He'll adapt. Or kill me. I promise to try to fix it.

12:30 am Some "clever" newbie, impatient with the system (you get two calls/day, 15 minutes/call until you're validated), keeps logging on new. First he was Max; two calls later he was Maxtwo... This is not A Good Way to get the sysop's attention. He turns out to be an abusive child anyway. I get elected to be in private chat with him, and relay our convo to the others: [private comments sent to me during]

MT: Fuck you Sine
me: but i prefer men.
MT: I am more of a man than you will ever get!
me: you are? when do you start acting like one and not a
sex-starved child?
[Bluedevil: sine... he thinks you're on to his dick.
Sine: only way i'd be on to his dick is if it were
attached to someone else.]
MT: Anyway do you have a boyfriend or what?
me: why do you want to know?
MT: Just wondering.
me: btw, i don't want your dick. not even gift-wrapped.
MT: What?
me: i heard you thought i was "on to your dick"
MT: So.
me: so i'm not. i told you already, i like men.
MT: You really are one bad bitch. I bet you've never
even been fingered!
me: from you, that's a compliment. and my sex life has
*nothing* to do with you. thank god.
MT: Fuck You Bitch!
me: how many times do i have to say no?
3:00 am People at the party log on. Only it seems the person typing is never the person who owns the account. At least, I seriously doubt Spuni is watching Floyd take off all his clothes. Then again, as drunk as whoever's typing seems to be... You never know about these things.

4:45 am Things are winding down as maintenance shut-down time approaches.

Sine: old mother reagan is femmes, too. off blind leasing
the naked, i think.
Silsurfer is nodding to you in agreement.
Sine: er, leading
Sine: *not* leasing.
Lestat: leasing the naked?
Sunjay: where do I sign . . .
Lestat: lease me nekkid
Sunjay: leasing the nakes . .what a concept . .
Bluedevil: i prefer the rent-to-own naked people.
Pizzaman is nodding to Bluedevil in agreement.
Lestat: I prefer the "free test drive" people.
Silsurfer: i can't lease. can i put you on lay-a-way?
Pizzaman: leasing with an option to purchase
Silsurfer: key word being LAY.
Pizzaman is rolling on the floor laughing hysterically
at Silsurfer !
Sunjay is cash only . . . .
Sine: you don't take visa? i thought it was *everywhere*
i wanted to be.
Silsurfer: damn.
Lestat: hm. do I watch bad videos or babes in tight
spandex doing aerobics?
Silsurfer is crying his heart out.
Bluedevil: i'm scared to go to bed... I'm gonna have
nightmares about cat shit...
Typos like that are nature's way of forcing you offline to sleep, I think. But I've never been much of a nature girl, so...

5:10 am Sorry to interrupt, but After Hours will be shutting down in 10 minutes for the nightly "Auto-Cleanup" process. Please finish up quickly.

Six of us make it to the bitter end this night. As I stagger away from my machine and collapse into bed, I wonder if Bluedevil's dreaming of cat shit...


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