Your leaking thatched hut during the restoration of a pre-Enlightenment state.


Hello, my name is Judas Gutenberg and this is my blaag (pronounced as you would the vomit noise "hyroop-bleuach").


decay & ruin
Biosphere II
dead malls
Irving housing

got that wrong

appropriate tech
Arduino μcontrollers
Backwoods Home
Fractal antenna

fun social media stuff

(nobody does!)

Like my brownhouse:
   unusual insecurity
Thursday, February 4 1999
Mostly due to her somewhat regrettable evangelical promotions, some of Kim friends follow this journal. But Kim herself mostly avoids reading this stuff because whenever she does we have terrible fights. Recently some of Kim's friends who read this journal have been implying that my writing about Kim has been especially unfair, unkind, and generally nasty. Some even told Kim to "never" read it. Last night Kim's curiosity hit critical mass and she sat down to read. And she didn't just read recent things either; she read all the way back to my straightforward musings accounts of our meeting back in July of 1998 (according to the marketing people at work, that's an aeon ago in "internet time"). For some reason, Kim found this reading experience devastating to her self-esteem. About the only thing she said to me yesterday evening was, "I don't know what I did to deserve you." Hearing her say this and seeing her so sad made me feel like absolute shit. How can I be so heartless to destroy someone like this?
Last night Kim and I slept together in the same bed, but we didn't interact with each other at all. And this morning Kim didn't get out of bed as I prepared for work. Our fight was lasting a lot longer than usual.
At work today I was feeling somewhat insecure about my relationship with Kim. What would it be like to be single again? It seem kind of cold, lonely and even a little ego-shattering. But it also felt kind of exciting. It was excuse enough to size up one of my unexpectedly attractive co-workers, a girl who has been around but who I didn't really notice until this morning. I never thought about her sexually before, but today she was leaning back into a couch during one of those interminable company meetings, and I noticed that her sweater was hiked a third of the way up her abdomen and I could see the naked flesh of the side of her lower torso. There was nothing remarkable about it except for the fact that I could see it, but that was remarkable enough. Since no taboo flesh was being exposed, she was oblivious to it. My eyes wandered about the room, and when they flipped back to re-examine this co-worker's torso, I found her meeting-wearied light blue eyes staring directly at me, and I don't think she was thinking about my skills as an ASP programmer. It was enough to send a momentary wave of energy through my body. This moment wouldn't have happened had I not been wondering if my relationship was still in existence.
In the evening, the cold war came to an abrupt end in the usual way, with Kim saying she couldn't stay mad at me with me around. So we had a conversation. She asked what my intention was in being such an asshole whenever I write about her. I said my writing was all in the moment, not part of a master plan, not written with any particular reader in mind. My bitching about her, like so much of my journal, is personal therapy, and it's probably not going to end no matter how many fights we have.
Still, it made me feel terrible to have hurt her so, all the more so given the fact that despite her pain and my proven asshole tendencies, she's sticking with me. It's genuine life-justifying love I'm seeing here and that has to be respected. I have to stop being so critical, both subconsciously and consciously. It serves no purpose. That's just the party line, of course. It's also possible that my criticism, asshole behaviour and judgements are helping to slowly change Kim's behaviour and make it conform more to my own. But I don't know. The furious storms resulting from the meeting of our very strong personalities leads to complexities far too unpredictable to successfully strategize.
While I was off at work all day, Kim was with her various friends getting sympathy. She hung out for awhile with the piercing people at Dr. Jeffe's piercing shop on Newport Street and decided to distract herself with an "I hate Gus" nose piercing. She didn't pick the best day to get a stud put in nose; she's still recovering from the flu and has to blow her nose regularly. The combination of the fresh wound in her nose and the pressure in her sinuses lead to painful evening headaches.

Winter rains fell all day, so at lunch I walked to the very close-by Carl's Jr. and made a meal of two Famous Stars. Thankfully, no one in the staff knew what I wanted until I ordered it.
Biking in the rain was a little more pleasant than usual today due to a cardboard rear fender I hurriedly built for the back wheel of my bicycle this morning. But it wasn't perfect; it didn't stick out quite far enough and I was spattered by a small amount of road grime.

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