I love the Anonymous Message Server.

So I'm a talker.  I downright babble...  a LOT.  All the time, in fact.  It's just in my nature.  There are very few times when I don't have something to say on almost any given topic.  I've been like this all my life.

I can't say that I babble just to hear my own voice.  If that were the case, then I'm sure I would talk a lot more than I already do...  probably to myself more often as well, it's just that my thoughts race so fast that I can't keep up with them.  Saying some of it out loud allows me to rein in some of those thoughts, maybe slow things down in my head...  and also to better grasp what is going on, racing through my mind.

Most people tune me out.

No, let me rephrase that.  Almost all people tune me out at some point or another.  My mother has done it all my life.  My brother has done it most of his.  My closest friends do it.  It's a percentage thing, most of the time.  At best, my closest girlfriends can get, maybe, 75-80% of what comes out of my mouth...  but even that high a percentage is rare.

The reality is, for as much as I talk, I don't *say* all that much.  Mostly, it's just commentary on the mundane things, stories that I may have told before or am trying to perfect as performance stories (personal performances, not stage performances, but sometimes those too).  Verbose is not an unfair word to use in reference to me...  even those who primarily read what I have to say would agree.

This is what I'm accustomed to.  This is what I know.  All of this, I understand.  No one is going to listen to all the crap that comes out of my mouth and I do not expect them to.  As long as the important points are garnered, everything is fine.  As long as people know that they can ask about things I've already said, I know they'll understand eventually, if not in that moment.

All of a sudden, things are changing.  The way I operate, perhaps, needs to be reevaluated.  I understand how people react to me (as a whole) and I am comfortable within that, but all of a sudden (or so it seems), people are reacting to me in ways that are foreign to me.

I am a performer at heart.  I crave the spotlight and adore being the center of attention...  at least in groups.  I don't, so much, like being the center of attention in a one-on-one situation.  One-on-one I feel like I'm monopolizing things, and if I'm there with someone, I want them to be an active participant in the conversation as well.  It's the trading of ideas, barbs, jokes, wit, whatever that makes for good conversation, not me off on some monologue.  If too much attention is directed at me, by the only other person with me, I am uncomfortable, I feel exposed.

I was having dinner with a friend a couple of weeks ago when I first started thinking about this.  He's rather reserved and quiet, but somehow got talking about himself, disclosing things that I had suspected, but only because they are aspects (but not specifics) that apply to most people that I truly consider friends.  He became uncomfortable when he decided to start feeling exposed and said "You know, Fyre, this is why I hang out with you...  you talk a lot, so I don't have to."

Now, most people, when they say "You talk a lot" don't mean it in a complimentary fashion.  I believe that he did.  At least, I took it that way, and I think I remember him reassuring me that he meant it as a compliment, or at least not as a slam.  What came from it, though, was that same night, he started filling in details, petty, stupid details from things I had previously told him.  I was awed by the fact that he actually listens to a ridiculously high percentage of what comes out of my mouth.  Again, I talk a lot, but at the same time, I don't really say all that much in all those words.  For some reason that is beyond my ken, he absorbs the information...  even the pointless fluff.

I thought he was the exception to the rule.  At least, until today.

Today I had lunch with another friend of mine...  but not a close friend.  I suppose a friend-ranking entry will be in order one of these days.  Someone whose company I enjoy, but who I have no contact with outside of work.  Any word less than "friend" would belittle how I feel about him, but I seriously have no contact whatsoever with him outside of work.  At all.  Call me when you're single, babe. *wink*

*a-HEM*

So, anyway, I had lunch with this friend of mine.  He's usually the sort to laugh and joke and mock without getting too deep into things...  usually, but not always.  Today he decided to "try something different", so he sat there and gave me his undivided attention while I babbled on and on about falling in a hole and having to sit and not do anything for a full day and how I fell in the hole and how people reacted to it and all the sorts of things I babble on about.  But instead of his usual interjections, he just sat there and listened. 

It turned into a psychoanalysis of sorts.  I mean, I suspect this particular person to be a whole lot more psychic than he realizes, maybe even significantly more than I realize.  He asks the "right" questions and I think he already knows the answer he's looking for when he starts his probing and asks the questions that will lead to answer he already (thinks he) has.  I fell into his trap.  I told him things that I wasn't expecting to disclose, while keeping some things (odd things, don't know why) to myself.

It made me very nervous...  having him be so intently focused on me, on what I was saying, on the "hidden meaning" behind my words.  While part of that, I'm sure, is that it's not something I'm accustomed to, part of it was also being the center of this one person's attention.  By the time we parted ways, I was shaking.  He made me very nervous...  I'm not accustomed to that sort of attention.  It's unnerving.

But, you know, the part that really gets me about this whole essay that I've written is that I don't even know what I want from it.  I got used to people mostly not listening to whatever it is that I had/have to say.  I understand how to work within the behaviors that others have trained me to expect.  When someone, or multiple someones, change the rules on me, it leaves me flustered.  I don't know if I should try to temper myself around them, be more careful about what I say, or if I should just try to accept the fact that sometimes people actually listen to ALL the words that come out of my mouth...  and hope that I don't wind up saying far too much while in my comfort babble zone...

~FG };^>

My ex-mother-in-law used to use that phrase and it's an apt one for this moment.

I went to work on Monday, after falling into the hole.  I figured if I just babied it a little bit, I'd be ok, but I failed to think about how ridiculously far away my office is from...  well... everything.  Babying it or not, by the end of the day IT HURT.  It hurt a lot and I was almost in tears pretty much whenever I moved.  I could stand ok, or sit ok, but moving from one position to another wreaked havoc on my joints.

I took yesterday off of work, and that was (emotionally) almost more painful than the physical symptoms of my leg.  The pain moved through my left side.  It appears to be working its way up my leg.  So on Tuesday, my ankle didn't really hurt anymore, but my knee really did and my hip started to.  Today I'm not in so much pain, especially in the knee, but my hip is a little wonky.

I was bored to tears all day yesterday.  I spent a lot of time playing guitar and finishing my new song (which is done and it is GOOD).  Of course, I can't go to the open mic tonight and play it, because I should not, by any means, be walking as far as the Lark Tavern is...  either direction, but especially both.  I think that's the most horrible aspect of this whole hole ordeal...  not being able to play and having something new that I'm really excited about.

I don't think I'm really limping today, and I'm not really in actual pain anymore, but my left side is still a bit achy and I'm not walking right.  I realize that, at this moment, I have a hitch in my gitalong. 

~FG };^>

Yeah, I'm known for doing really stupid things.  So much so that Girl has even coined a phrase for them.  You know, it's not even like it's really always my own doing.  Much of the time, it's circumstances out of my control.

So I was changing a light bulb when I blew a fuse.  Lost all the power in my apartment.  I lit a candle and asked Chaos to come down to the basement with me.  He thought I was scared.  I wasn't, I just wanted someone to come with me, but I didn't know why.

The basement light was on in the back, where we went in, but as we approached the front of the building (where the fuse box is) I noticed that there was no bulb in that socket, and the string to turn it on was missing anyway.

I was looking in the mostly dark for the fuse box, by candlelight...  and then I fell into a hole.

I kid you not.  There was a 4x8 hole that was a little more than waist deep.  If it were any deeper I would be calling it a pit.  I probably already could.  My brother saw the hole and figured I had, too, but no, I was too busy looking for the fuse box that the hole was directly in front of.  I messed up my leg a little and needed help climbing back up out of the hole.  Guess that's why I wanted my brother to come with me.

Flipped the switch to reset the fuse and went back upstairs.

To still no power.  Apparently it was the wrong switch.  Chaos wouldn't go back down and try again, claiming that it wasn't going to work anyway.  I wound up sitting in the dark, playing my guitar by candlelight, with my leg elevated and iced.  It took about an hour to get through to my landlord's house and another hour for him to get here and turn the power back on.

When I took Spawn to see Everything is Illuminated, I fell in love with the song that played at the end of the movie.  We ran into Mom and Dick after the movie and Mom started telling me that Eugene Hutz was the lead singer for a Ukrainian punk band...  the band that played the song that caught me.

Well, of course, the first thing that I did was look around on the internet and see what I could find.  The band is called Gogol Bordello and I went and bought their CD.  I'm not entirely sure what I was expecting, but I like it.

I really hate going out by myself.  I much prefer going out when I know there will be people around that I already know.  That said, my friends often don't want to go out and do the sorts of things that draw me, so it's either a matter of flying solo or not going out at all.

I can't say that one or the other is my primary choice.  It really depends on the night.  I do everything I can to convince other people to join me, but all too often they either don't want to go out at all or they don't want to do whatever it is I'm doing.

Last night was a CD release party for a CD that's not ready to be released - lol.  I like John Brodeur and I haven't gotten to hear much of his stuff, so I figured this would be a nice way to make myself out of context, be supportive to a musician I respect and see regularly at the open mic (he hosts) and to get out and have a good time.

Chaos and his friend invited me out to the Bleeker, but I don't see the draw to a regular bar with the same DJ that plays every week vs. a CD release party (of sorts...  or not...)  I was flying solo and not particularly happy about it.

Got to the Lark a little before 10, figuring the show would start around 10, 10:30.  No one really around that I knew, but Tess saw me and waved :-D  I halfway overheard her lean to her friend and say "She is such a nice person."  That makes me smile.  She also came up to me later to tell me (again) that she's my biggest fan.  LOL.  It makes me feel good that she reaches out as much as she does.  Now I just have to get myself to a point where I ask her to book me.  That's a stumbling block to consider.

That's the tagline for the movie I went to see last night.

It couldn't be more accurate.

*looks up at title*

They call me paranoid.  They call me crazy.  I don't tell *everyone* the reason that I decided to work with computers, but as people get to know me, it usually comes up eventually.

I work in IT because I have this fear that one day computers/robots will try to take over the world.  I want to know enough about them to be able to turn them off.

Right, I get it.  Now you ALL (at least those who haven't already heard this theory) think I'm crazy, too.  But I learned today I'm not the only one who thinks like this.

Yes, it's fiction.  Yes, it's well exaggerated, but it has a basis in reality.  Some of the tips given in How to Survive a Robot Uprising are ones that could actually help in a worst-case scenario situation.  Yes, yes, I recognize that the more I say, the less sane and the more paranoid I appear to be.

I don't think that this is impending.  I'm not convinced that this will happen in my lifetime.  I'm not saying that Terminator is a true story or that it even has any basis in reality, but I have long believed that Artificial Intelligence was a much scarier prospect than our current efforts lead people to believe.  After reading this article about Daniel H. Wilson and his book, I now know that I am not alone in my beliefs, but it's not a widespread theory or at least not one that very many people are willing to admit publicly.

A couple of months ago I read a letter to the editors of GamePro Magazine (which I cannot now find online) where this guy was explaining his fear that robots would one day conquer the earth, or at least try to.  The mocking this poor guy got was ridiculous.  I mean, I guess I can see where the editors are coming from, I always ease people into my belief and I take a lot of mocking for it anyway, but to put yourself on the line like that and put all that paranoia in a letter to a gaming magazine...  That guy has way more balls than I do.

But here we see that respected scientists working in the field of robotics actually agree with the paranoid ramblings and theories of layfolk like me and that guy whose letter appears to have been lost along the side of the information superhighway.

I've always been fascinated with Artificial Intelligence.  I think that the concept behind playing God to the extent of (re)creating brainpower on par with or exceeding that of human capabilities is frighteningly brilliant.  I think this fascination comes from my avid reading of Science Fiction, though it certainly has been increased by my discovery of gaming.

The intellectual energy associated with game AI has tightened the connection between the academic AI community and the game developers. That connection will grow stronger in the coming years, according to John Laird, who's served as a liaison between the two worlds. In early 2000, Laird, a professor of computer science at the University of Michigan, coauthored a manifesto of sorts for the research AI community, arguing that games provide a perfect environment for experiments in human-level AI - and offer a better career path than creating smart software for more traditional clients like the Department of Defense. "What we're now seeing is a generation of grad students who grew up playing videogames," Laird says. "In the next five years or so, we're going to see a lot more people going to grad school wanting to focus on AI and games, and then going into the industry. It's sort of a mantra of technology transfer in the computer sciences: You don't transfer ideas, you transfer people."

Jason asks an interesting question.

It's a question that I, too, have wondered about from time to time.  What counts as success in the blogging, or more specifically, in the personal blogging world?  Sure, the political blogs want to be counted amongst the pundits, or cited as sources in some mainstream media outlet.  The technological blogs want to influence you as a consumer.  But the personal blogs, the ones without a real topic, the online journals, if you will, where is the measure of success for them?

"In a way, blogs serve as oral history," Bill Schreiner, vice president of AOL Community, said in a statement. "When it comes to sharing blogs and reading other people's blogs, we like to connect with people, learn about their lives, and find common ground. There's no pressure to write about a particular subject or keep blogs maintained a certain way, and it's not necessarily a popularity contest."

But how do you determine what makes good content? Does the writing have to be good or just the topic? The blogs which seem to get the most traffic tend to be somewhat on the controversial side. What if I don’t want to stir up controversy? How can I get people to read what I write? Should I even care? I’m not trying to do this to make money, so does it really matter whether anyone is reading?