Jan. 15th, 2006

stormdog: a woman with light skin and long brown hair that cascades over one shoulder. On her other side, she is holding a large plush shark against herself. She has pink fingernails and pink cat eye glasses (Default)
So I was out at Dwarf's house to do a bit more work on the server I built for him with his Hackmaster content. Since my return home at about eleven o' clock, I've just been sort of sitting around, browsing community after community, poking occasionally at my photos and website, reading the occasional email that comes in, thinking about actually doing some cleaning, and, finally, listening to lots of music and singing along at the top of my lungs since I have the house to myself.

In the interests of wasting even more time, I've taken a screenshot of my playlist. On the infrequent occasions when I do feel like sitting down and listening to a bunch of music (This used to be much more often but I haven't had the time. I need to get my downstairs computer on the network so I can listen to my music on the stereo while working on cleaning up down there. But I digress.), I just browse through my eleven point three gigabytes of MP3s, decide on a couple of categories, and just start clicking. These are examples from my Rock, Classic Rock, and Alternative folders. This was all started tonight by my going through some of my pictures from Michigan Central Station and finding one of lines from the Stones' Paint it Black (amusingly enough, they are on the wall next to an old red door).

stormdog: a woman with light skin and long brown hair that cascades over one shoulder. On her other side, she is holding a large plush shark against herself. She has pink fingernails and pink cat eye glasses (software pirate)
I got my dryer hooked up!

After a leisurely morning spent partially in bed with [livejournal.com profile] wooisme and partially in front of my computer catching up on email and poking at my server, I ran out to the hardware store to pick up parts while my lovely mate showered to get ready for dance class.

This time, instead of just going in and buying the parts I thought I'd need, I approached the customer service desk with all my old parts, explained what I was trying to do and the problem I was having, and let the "helpful hardware man" show me exactly what I needed. I can't help but think of the times a few years ago when I couldn't possibly have mustered the confidence and courage to do something as simple as ask for help that way, and it makes me feel really good. And I even did it in sandals with my painted toenails showing. The fact that all the parts he showed me were the right ones and I had very little trouble getting everything hooked up the way it should be makes it even better!

The only time I was really nervous was when I actually started up the dryer. It's an old beast, just like the washer; they were both gifted to us by some gamer friends of my parents. (We did each other a favor; Moira and I get a washer/dryer, they get an empty basement.) But unlike the washer, the dryer uses a potentially explosive substance as fuel, so I was a bit paranoid about turning it on. I knew my external connections were good, but what about the internal ones? What if there was a leak? What if it blows up on me?

But it seems to be happily running. Though it took a while to get hot the first time, it now seems to spark up the gas jet and burn just fine. I popped the bottom panel off the front of the dryer so I could watch the internals (and make sure nothing was on fire that wasn't supposed to be) and there it was: toward the back of the left side was an inferno in a tube, the gas jet merrily throwing off hot air to get sucked into the internal squirrel-cage fan and blown into the tumbling drum. Still, I'm going to keep a close eye on that dryer for a while. You know, just to be on the safe side.

Finally! We can wash and dry our own clothes! I'm getting started on that task tonight. The combination of the inconvenience of taking clothes out to the laundromat combined with my mate and my general disinclination to embark on that task has resulted in three-foot piles of clothing becoming the typical scenery in our bedroom. No longer!

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stormdog: a woman with light skin and long brown hair that cascades over one shoulder. On her other side, she is holding a large plush shark against herself. She has pink fingernails and pink cat eye glasses (Default)
MeghanIsMe

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