“Looks really nice,” a little girl whispered from the stairway. “You made it very pretty, Tifa.”

A woman with long, black hair turned from her task of drying a polished wooden table and looked at the child, a smile on her gentle, tanned face. She stood up straight, stretching out the kinks in her back and let her rag fall onto the table in a heap. Wide brown eyes seemed to be laughing in the early morning light.

“You’re up early,” she said to the girl, glancing around the large bar critically.

Marlene smiled and showed off the large white bow in her hair. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“Then let’s get you some breakfast and wake up your brother!” Tifa replied, looking at the brown-haired child before her. “Your dad’s coming back this evening.”

“I know,” the girl answered running back upstairs. “I’ll go get Denzel.”

This left Tifa standing on the main bar floor, staring past the bar counter at the stairs and wondering what kept Marlene from falling asleep this early in the day. According to the large clock that hung above the cash register, it was only six in the morning, and daylight was barely peaking in through the open windows. A cool breeze fluttered through, pleasantly chilling the woman’s warm skin.

She picked up the rag again and finished up with the table she was working on before heading upstairs to cook breakfast for the children. Because having many kids in a household meant a lot of noise, the stars didn’t creak, and she was able to get into Cloud’s office without rousing any of the youngsters. She picked up the phone on the small, wooden desk and dialed a number from memory.

A voicemail message came on at the other end. When it was finished, the woman said, “Hey, just thought I’d call and remind you of the party tonight. Also, there’s a delivery waiting here for you…

***

“…from Rufus.  Sounds like it might be fun, but please be careful. Rufus sounded really strange on the phone. Anyway, see you.” said a female voice on the cell phone.

The blond man holding the phone gently closed the lid and slipped it back into the pocket of his black cargo pants. He looked around the deserted hill for a long moment before getting back onto his motorcycle, a black machine that looked like it was well used and well cared for. Slowly, he pulled a pair of goggles over his eyes and revved up the cycle.  Then he was off, leaving behind a cloud of dust and trail marks.

From a distance, the man looked fairly ordinary. He wore a pair black cargo pants, back boots, and a short-sleeved black shirt with a red design on the back. Muscles were clearly visible on his forearms, but he didn’t look like a body builder. Lithe and graceful, this particular being was fast and agile but not aggressive. Underneath the goggles, his eyes were aquamarine and often fluctuated between shades of blue and green.

The desert stretched before him for miles and miles, but he took the road easily and in stride, knowing that he was going home. He didn’t like parties much, but he had made a promise to come, and he was known for keeping those to the death. Blond spiky hair stood out all over the place, defying gravity while just barely managing to stay out of his face. When it did get in the way, he came to Tifa and received much needed haircuts.

By the time he met up with opposition, he could see the walls of the ruined city and could almost smell concrete and pollution. There were two of them, men in trench coats, standing in the middle of his path. Used to be that he would instantly pull out his large sword and attack, but now he slowed instead, still unarmed though far from harmless.

One wore red. That was the only way to explain it; everything about the stranger on the left, from his hair to the color of his shoes was a bright, nearly neon shade of red. He wore leather pants that almost glistened in the sun. The blonde had a moment to wonder if he had been spray painted that color, for even his eyes reflected reddish hues. His companion was noticeably white and black, divided in half vertically. One half, including the skin was pitch-black in color, the other deathly white. His white face was smiling.

“Hello,” said the red one.

The blond man nodded, but said nothing.

“You must be Cloud,” said the dual faced man, giggling. “A pleasure to meet you, a real pleasure, if you must know.”

His red companion gave a singe, defined nod. “Come with us.”

Blond hair moved a little as the man on the large motorcycle shook his head.

“But you must. Can’t have a party without the guest of honor, right?” The taller of the two men standing in his way raised his right hand into the air.

 The sand and dust on either side of Cloud rose into the air, and then just as carelessly dropped on top of him. Only quick reflexes and a powerful bike kept him from becoming instantly buried. He didn’t want to ask questions, to involve himself in any of this, and so, with a turn of his wheels drove straight past the two. Vaguely he wondered how they’d gotten into this middle of nowhere without any sort of transportation, but the thought didn’t last long.

He knew that they turned to watch his passing, could feel their gazes burrow into his neck, but didn’t care. They weren’t important enough to him, and he still wasn’t a party person, especially when the invitation tried to kill him. The city loomed ahead, large and gray in all its concrete glory.

The remains of the single greatest feat in the last two thousand years, thought Cloud to himself as he drove closer down a broken up highway. Doesn’t really look like much. His speed slowed down from insane to manageably fast, partly because he didn’t want to hit anyone.

The streets in this part of town were falling apart. As part of the district yet to be rebuilt, they didn’t look like much, dusty remains of life, dolls, newspapers, and much more lay on the ground. Most of this area was now abandoned as people moved to Edge, the city at the end of what was once Mitgar. Humans had a tendency of huddling together.

He approached the center square and stopped, looking about at the movement of society, the flow of people from place to place. It was a drab world to live in, and the blond man knew it. At some point when the restoration had just begun, Cloud had tried to voice an opinion about how it might look some day, but apparently large skyscrapers had won the battle.

“We’re looking ahead to the future of Edge, and eventually all of Mitgar,” the councilman had proclaimed back then.

He drove into Edge, got off his bike, and walked the relatively short distance to the bar where he and Tifa lived. The three story place lay on a non-descript street near the center square, away from most of the noise. It was a three story house, where the first floor doubled as bar, while the top two contained offices and plenty of living space. Any number of orphans occupied most of the rooms on any given day.

He parked the bike in the back, away from prying eyes that might see some value in the Fenrir, and then walked in through the front door. Most of the lights were off, since it was only late morning and the bar wasn’t open yet. Tifa usually opened her doors around noon, after the children had their breakfast and lessons, so he wasn’t surprised to find it in this state. For a moment he just stood there, the sound of his boots still echoing in the empty room.

From the stairwell a voice called out, “Hey!”

Tifa grinned and nearly skipped over and wrapped her arms around his waist. “I didn’t think you’d be back so early.”

The dark-haired woman looked stunning no matter how Cloud looked at her, and he sometimes wished he could know more of what it meant to be adult and have the same urges as most other people. He didn’t, however, and that seemed very realistically final. So he hugged back for a moment and stepped back once the dark-haired woman finally let go. Raven hair, suggested his brain for no good reason.

“Here’s the package Rufus brought this morning,” Tifa said, all business now. “I told him you wouldn’t be able to deliver it to his contact until tomorrow, but he was very insistent that it happen today.”

“He called,” the blond man said after taking the package gingerly with both hands.

 The woman seemed genuinely surprised. “I wonder how he got your number, or why he’d call. Usually he just goes through me.”

 Just as carefully, Cloud placed the small metal box back down onto the counter and looked at the stairs. A hot shower sounded very preferable, and he knew that Tifa disliked being disturbed when she did her opening thing. Afterwards, though, he knew that he’d either pick up an apron and help out, or read to the children, or something. Packages from enemies weren’t usually given high priority.

“I’m going to shower,” he said simply and headed up the stairs.

 “What did Rufus want?”

 The blonde turned around and shrugged. He wasn’t the type of person to share his problems with anyone, not eve his friends. For a time, he hadn’t been able to at all, but now he felt somewhat different about the situation. For a fact, he knew that Tifa would want to know what Rufus had said and about the two men in the desert. She wasn’t a nosy person, but she still found room in her heart to worry and for indefinable reasons, the blonde didn’t want that.

He came back and took a seat on a bar stool by where the woman was arranging ale mugs. “He called about the package. The phone call cut off midway, but he mentioned something about experimentation and alien, viral cells.”

“That sounds really strange. I thought She was gone for good.” The woman frowned, but seemed somehow satisfied.

“I met up with two men on my way back here,” Cloud said quietly, forging onwards. “They invited me to a party.”

 That made even Tifa raise an eyebrow. She could fight her way through any number of enemies, punch walls with her bare hands, and stop oncoming trains. Protecting the blond man was apparently the only thing she wasn’t capable of. She tried to, sometimes, but he always ended up the winner anyway.

“That’s weird. Maybe you should lay low for a few days, just to make sure trouble doesn’t come barging in,” she suggested.

 He stood up and headed up the stairs. “Shower.”

 “Yeah, you go do that while I open up and get the ball rolling,” the dark-haired woman replied, apparently content to go about her own business.

I wonder what goes on in his head sometimes, she thought to herself as she finished her stacking and pulled her hair back, letting it fall across her shoulders. How does Cloud see this world? She wondered about that quite often. He wasn’t a cold person, or a calculating one, at that. He just seemed empty, if anything, as if emotions were completely beyond his ability to comprehend.

 She walked over to the doors and leaned against them for a moment before flipping over the sign and letting the regular customers inside. In Edge, where most places were still trying to get situated, many people came to her for lunch. The meals were decent, and apparently many citizens left over from the destruction of Mitgar couldn’t make it through the day without tuning out the world. Sometimes, Tifa wondered if she was doing everyone a disservice by running the Lonely Dove, but most days she felt something was better than nothing. Slipping past the people behind the counter, she began her usual routine.

 “Hey,” she called out to Yuffie. “I didn’t know you’d be by.”

 “Well, a ninja can’t train all the time, you know!” The girl smiled and ran a hand through her short, black curls.

 “I didn’t think you were doing much training,” Tifa commented.

 Already half way up the stairs, the younger woman grinned. “You know me too well. I’m off to use Cloud’s office for some paperwork. Is he in?”

 “Yeah, but he probably won’t be needing his office any time soon.”

 And vaguely, Tifa heard her friend call out, “Kay!”

 She was about to ask the first person what they wanted for lunch when a man dressed in red stepped inside. As if by some spell, the room hushed. Conversations were cut off mid word, and people simply turned to stare. Maybe it was the stranger’s overwhelming height, or possibly the attitude-ridden look on his face, but something about him stood out. Casually, the man walked over and took a seat by the bar as if he was a normal customer.

 Conversation picked up again as Tifa went down the line, asking customers what they wanted. Several of the older children helped out in getting orders or mucking around in the kitchen, alongside two actual cooks. Eventually, in her own time, she approached the tall, red man.

 “What can I get for you?” she asked, pen in hand.

 He smiled lazily. “I came to talk to Cloud Strife.”

 “Do you have an appointment?” the dark-haired woman inquired.

 
“No, but I’m sure he’ll want to hear this,” the man replied evenly. “A lot rests on his decision in regards to that package from ShinRa.”

 
“Marlene, go find Cloud and tell him that there’s a gentleman waiting down here for him. Tell him it’s about Rufus.” Tifa smiled at the girl. “If you can’t find him, don’t worry.”

 “Okay,” said the child happily and skipped up the stairs.

Tifa closed her eyes for a moment, then smiled at the man before her and asked again, “What can I get you?”

 ***

 Marlene came upstairs and headed straight for the room that Cloud normally shared with Tifa. She walked down the narrow hall to the end and knocked on the door a few times. When nothing happened, she tried again. Wide green eyes regarded the door for a moment longer, but it remained stubbornly shut. Either the blond man was inside, the girl reasoned, or he was busy and didn’t want to be disturbed.

She was about to knock again when she heard footsteps behind her; turning the girl grinned at the sight before her. It was very definitely the person she was looking for, but his normally spiky hair was taking a moment to curl at the edges from the shower. Without sun glasses or goggles to hide his eyes, they were currently a deep shade of blue. He was wearing his normal black pants, no shoes, and a light-blue t-shirt.

“Good afternoon, Cloud,” the girl said, a wide smile on her face and laughter in her voice.

 The blonde nodded, regarding the girl evenly. She had her hair tied in a large pony tail with a giant, white bow. Her gray dress looked so drab in comparison to those curious, green eyes. Again, the man wondered what exactly awaited these children in the future, if they even had one, really.

“Tifa says you have a visitor,” said Marlene, twirling about. “He’s red. She also says it’s about Rufus.”

 The man simply nodded. “Please tell Tifa that I’ll be right down.”

 “Will do,” said the child, skipping away.

Shrugging, the blonde walked into the room at the end of the hall and closed the door behind him, careful not to let it slam. The back of the door housed a large mirror, and without meaning to, Cloud ended up staring into its depths. A fully grown man looked back at him, a stranger wearing a nearly blank expression on his face. I don’t feel like an adult, he thought as he finished dressing. Probably because I wasn’t myself for so long.

His cell phone vibrated across his small nightstand and fell onto the floor with a quiet thump. Reaching over, the blonde picked it up and flipped open the display, surprised to find that this missed call was from Rufus. Idly he wondered what the leader of a now-dead organization was thinking to keep calling him.

If phone calls are an indication of urgency, then he has a real emergency on his hands, the blonde figured as he tucked the phone back into his pant pocket and headed out the door. Gracefully and with an even pace, he made his way down the stairs and into the bar area. His thoughts were focused on making sure that Tifa was safe and speaking to this stranger before he caused any trouble.

Quite a few people were in on this chilly, Friday afternoon. With fall already in the air, the temperatures all over Mitgar were dropping, and it was very noticeable in the people’s clothing. Even Cloud wore a long-sleeved, black turtleneck for extra warmth. He didn’t grow cold easily, but it helped him fit in a little.

“How’re you, today?” asked one of the cooks, a woman named Rowan.

Nodding at her politely, he walked over to Tifa and this red stranger, who stood out like a sore thumb in the gray atmosphere of construction workers, shop keepers, and just people off the street. Here, no one was turned down, not even psychopaths in bright red outfits. This specific one was currently drinking a small shot glass of something that stank of alcohol.

Tifa caught his eyes, and the blonde offered her a singe shrug as if to say that he had no clue. The seats on either side of the red man were empty, and people obviously didn’t want them, possibly because the guy carried a giant sword and looked like he was a violent axe murderer out to kill someone. Cloud took a seat next to him and ran a hand through his damp hair.

“So, you came after all,” said the man slowly, drawing out the words.

The blonde nodded. “What do you want?”

 “To invite you to a reunion, so to speak,” replied the man. “Remember the Lab?”

“Yes.”

 The man grinned. “The survivors are gathering, and we’d like to extend you an invitation.”

 “Why?” Cloud was puzzled.

“To take revenge on ShinRa for what they helped accomplish. Sephiroth was just one of many of their creations. Wouldn’t you like to meet your brethren?” The red man grinned, and there was a maniacal glint in his eyes. “Wouldn’t you like to see Rufus suffer the way you have.”

“It wasn’t his fault,” Cloud said after a time. “Those truly responsible are dead.”

 At no point in his life, before or after the Lab, did Cloud blame the leader of ShinRa for what happened to him and all the other experiments, including Sephiroth. They had sponsored the project, but the blonde knew for a fact that Rufus had no idea what was going on behind those white walls. No use blaming him for any of it.

“How long will you continue to live in a world of illusion, pretending you’re human, Cloud Strife? How long will you close your eyes to the truth?”

The blonde blinked once, the question striking deeply into his own thoughts. For a few minutes, he was silent, contemplating what this man was saying, but in the end, he was pretty sure of his answers. It had taken time and a fair amount of friendship to show him what living was all about, but now he could see through the terrors of the lab to the life he had ahead of him, however long or short it may be.

“I think I’ll pass on the invitation,” he said carefully. “The past is better left in our memories and the future is yet to be written. Calling for revenge and reminiscing about the days gone by is a waste of my time.”

 “I’ve heard you say differently, Cloud.”

The blonde chuckled. “I’m sure I did, back when I thought I was my best friend.”

 “It was their fault you’re missing four years of your life. You’re still a fourteen-year-old boy at heart! I’m surprised you can stand by idly and do nothing against them!” Anger flared in his voice.

The blond man sitting beside him blinked a few times and said, “Your anger is towards the dead.”

“The dead? ShinRa is very much alive, if you haven’t noticed. Just because they don’t have the reactors doesn’t mean they’re down! Stubborn assholes!”

“He is dead.” The blonde looked at Tifa, saw the curiosity in her eyes, and wished this conversation had taken place somewhere else.

His companion growled, but it was a moot point now. Cloud would not argue semantics, so the red man rose and stormed out through the open door, leaving his drink behind. His chair clattered to the floor in a seemingly belated gesture of contempt, and the man in the black turtleneck picked up, carefully setting it up right. He stared at the black barstool for a while, as if contemplating his options amidst the stares, and then finally sighed. It was a little surrender to the inevitable.

Tifa smiled at him and handed him a glass of some kind of bubbly soda. “You could’ve used your office.”

He blinked then. “Yuffie’s in there.”

“Our ninja decided to take a break from her rigorous training to come and party this evening,” the woman behind the bar explained with a wide grin. “Hopefully the children don’t find her too soon.”

The blond man shrugged and took a seat on the stood he had just returned to its rightful location. Carefully, he stirred the bubbly water, watching it, while he waited for the black-haired woman to finish up her latest set of orders. She seemed busy right then, completely in her element as a bar tender and keeper of peace. He waited patiently for her finish her latest round and come back while sipping on the sweet, bubbly drink.

When she returned, the dark-haired woman offered a smile. “Want to talk?”

The blonde shook his head a little, although he knew the conversation was inevitable. Eventually, Tifa would want to know all about the Lab and his age, and Zack. Just because she wasn’t pressing the matter didn’t mean she didn’t want to know. Sighing, he drank some of the overly sweet soda.

“Going to track down Rufus now?”

Cloud shook his head. “Tomorrow. I wouldn’t make it before nightfall anyway.”

The woman nodded. “Make sense. You want to round up the children for lunch?”

He was about to nod when he everything began to rock to the sounds of explosions somewhere outside. Everyone turned to look at the doors as if they held all the answers somehow. As expected by laws of nature, they didn’t. Getting up, the blue-eyed man made his way to the door and looked down the street to the city center, the square that represented the end of ShinRa and all it had stood for.

It was on fire. Flames shot up into the sky, and even from his poor vantage point, he could easily tell that whatever was going on was bad, very bad. Turning around, he gestured silently to Tifa, and she joined him outside. The chaos alone was enough to make her shiver. People were running through the gushing flames in an attempt to get away.

“We need to get people out of here,” Tifa said with some certainty in her voice. “The fires look like they could spread at any moment.”

From the second story window, Marlene pointed at the sky. “What’s that?”

“Our worst nightmares come to life,” Tifa whispered as she began ushering people out of the bar and down the street, away from the flames. “Cloud, get the children out of here.”

 ***

Marlene watched the dragon up above with a sense of dread, somehow aware that this would not end well. Picking up her favorite stuffed animal, she followed her older brother Denzel out the door of their bedroom. The small halls felt cramped and crowded to the girl, especially now with about eight others mulling about. Sighing, she watched the stairs, what little she could see of them, and listened for the sounds of Cloud’s boots.

“Come on,” said the blond man, gesturing for everyone to follow him.

“I’m scared,” the girl whispered softly holding her brother’s hand.

The brown-haired boy looked at her for a moment and ruffled her hair. “Don’t worry. It’ll be okay.”

“But why now? I thought… Daddy keeps saying that it’s peaceful times. So why is there more fighting?”

 Denzel shook his head. “I don’t know, Marlene. I really don’t.”

“I wish Daddy was here.”

 “He’ll find us. Barrett had never abandoned us before, and he won’t start now.”

As one singe line, they got outside through the back entrance, little footsteps echoing in the now-empty bar. Tifa met them by the blonde’s motorcycle and pointed in the general direction of the Wall, where Yuffie lived in one of the many abandoned buildings. The general consensus seemed to be that the children would be safer there.

At least that’s how Marlene understood it. “Yuffie!”

“See, Kiddo, I came,” she said, wrapping her arms around the brown-haired girl and picking her up. “Ready for an adventure?”

“Yeah,” Marlene said happily.

“Come on then,” said the ninja with a grin. “We’ll make it a real adventure, won’t we?”

Denzel nodded, feeling his own fears melting away. “Let’s go!”

Tifa watched the children’s passing for a moment before hopping onto the Fenrir and wrapping her arms around Cloud. “Ready?”

He nodded. “Let’s go.”

And they all waved goodbye, not sure if they would all see each other again.

***

The bike came to a halt with dust rising all over the place and the screech of tires to mark its arrival. Looking up at the sky,

Time heals many things, which apparently includes our kittens.

The two new additions to our family have now been with us for three weeks, and they are doing a fabulous job of being kittens. Our worries that Crow would not adapt proved to be completely unfounded as he gre to love Chibi from day one. He’s extremely playful and curious, and he makes an attempt to bite anything and everything. However, the older cats keep him sort of inline and Chibi has taken it upon herself to give him daily baths. Weird how our older cats seem to just adore the baby.

Squeaker resisted being assimilated, but it’s finally gotten to her, too. She now cuddles with Chibi or Oreo on her favorite chair, though she loves to curl up with me and Brian, as well. She acts cute, and is no longer coughing her lungs out. We gave her anti-biotics for a day before surrendering and she pulled through just fine. Now she’s slowly gaining weight and energy, which apparently means she can now kick Crow’s ass.

In two weeks is their vet appointment, so that will be well worth seeing. Might also go to the dentist that day, but man I hate dentists!

Life is finally taking on some semblance of shape. I have this whole long argument that I wrote to myself and to Brian a few weeks back, and I’m sticking to it. Just got to remember where we’re all going.  Today my neck is trying kill me via soreness, and my back is about ready to join it, so I’m going to forego class for a chance to lay down and sleep some. Don’t know what Brian plans to do, but I’m behind him all the way on whatever he wants to do.

****

I was doing some thinking in that Ethics class, more or less wondering what’s the right course of action on a lot of things. Everything from work to school to our kittens to life in general passed through my brain at some point in those three hours, and I think I have some coherent answers now that I didn’t before.

Work:

For now, I think I want to stick it out with City and County for the money, although I think we’re best off totally saving either my or your paycheck so that we can eventually move on from this place. Maybe not in the next month, but soon enough to make the goal feel reachable. I dislike unreachable goals. When Michael Wright mentioned last week that people who work for the City stay a long time, it really hit me. This job is not what I want to be doing five years from now, or even three years from now, so I won’t. That’s the end of the debate. I can quit any time, and if I’m fired it will be cause I wanted to leave not because I did a bad job. And before long, leave I will. This is not a “forever job”, it was never meant to be, and I will not make City Help Desk into a career.

Destiny:

After doing a lot more research into JPCT I feel fairly sure that I will need to rewrite my code completely in order for it to mesh well what anything we create in JPCT, which is fine with me. I think that creating the model for me to work with will be the first great step, although I can certainly work without it. As far as the GUI goes, it will have to be an instance of the World inside a Frame (AWT, not so playful with Swing) and within that frame a simple Panel (again AWT) that will be the chat client. I think the Panel can be made see through so as not to interfere with the terrain. I have no way of knowing what fullscreen would do to a Panel, but I’m sure we can scale it appropriately since its dimensions are known along with the dimensions of the Frame at any given time.

The problem I foresee is that I do not know how AWT handles events, and as such I may have to rewrite some of that code. The only affected Frames would be the chat frame. The majority of the project will remain untouched as the base foundation for server interaction is already implemented.

The code will need some additions to accommodate for a set of changing users. Currently all data is echoed to screen, but if the client will need to distinguish between moving objects and keep track of them to move them (their coordinates at any given time, their new coordinates, to simulate movements, and their avatar), that will require kicking the DestinyUser class completely out and using something different. Or possibly extending the class into an array thereof, and then calling individual instances based on ID or some other unique factor. This should be fairly easy to handle in Java.

Any changes made to the Socket class will be fairly minor since it will not handle encoding and decoding. My main function will take care of that via global functions (functions in main) and it will be responsible for taking the output and giving out orders accordingly. The encoding will happen before a send with me passing the function arrays of the four types (system, movement, user, chat) and then allowing it to combine all of them into a single String which it will then send out.

Currently the problem I see with JPCT examples we’ve been using is that it completely steals thread priority from Main, which is obviously a problem. Yesterday I started to rewrite that, and now there is no such conflict but there is also no picture. I will need a lot of help with integrating one into the other, first by creating our own frame and then by writing the panel into it.

School:

Is a waste of time and effort. Honestly, I see no reason for it. The more I look at it (and I’ve evaluated this statement before), the more I want to throttle whoever invented it. As of right now, I really see no good reason for paying $800 for someone to tell me that Java is good and great. Whatever I learn from JPCT will be very un-OO design (as proven by the creator’s manual as well as his coding) and I see no reason to show case any of it before the teacher. Now I’m just coding Destiny to code Destiny the game. Class is worthless in comparison. I still want to learn the hard stuff, but damn, I’m coding the hard stuff.

Thus I’m seriously considering not paying for college this semester and taking a different route. Not sure which one yet, but there has to be one.

Kittens:

The kittens are cute, but I’m being realistic here. If both Crow and Squeak do well, then I see no reason not to keep both of them. I keep searching for reasons, but none come to mind; they are both ours and I see them as members of the family. If one of them can’t make it for some reason, then I see it as our responsibility to find it a new and better home where it will be loved as much as we love it.

Website:

The blogs are at the point where slow connectivity and lack of good themes are all that stand between us and blogging. I want to sit down with you some time and pick out some themes you like, then set up your blog. I want to set up mine but not sure I’m ready to do any writing in it yet. Maybe this weekend we can take some time and just work on that. Get you up and going. That, I think, will be a big step towards blogs. I’d also like to work with Steve on the fiction portion of the site, primarily getting some sort of layout, creating HTML and PHP for it and the creation of a database. I’m sure you’ll want to participate in the design of this as well. Then I’d like to start coding the main page as much as I can.

In General:

It’s been some time since I’ve really thought about it, but in reality it’s exactly what you said before. I need to make choices for myself, lead instead of simply following along. And in order to lead, I have to know what I want to do.

So, I asked myself what I wanted to do and came up with the obvious. I want to see Destiny on its feet, I want to be a part of creating Chibiness Technologies and expanding it into a business we can really work with and be a part of. I want to see more of the world and more of you. All that I’ve been doing up until now has been for that goal, and I can only hope that my feet don’t stray from the path.  

With that in mind, I am very open to what you think. About school, about Destiny, about ChibiTek.

What I want: To move forward towards our goals and the future as we want it to be.

All I have to say is this: “If you have more than one creature you better be at home a lot of the time.”

We finally have four cats, and the two kittens are apparently on good behavior only when we’re around and awake. Hissing contests ensue the moment we close our eyes, and continue onwards for the rest of the night. Last night, we got maybe six hours of sleep because in the wee hours of the morning, Crow and Chibi decided to play. Let us not mention all the insane, crazy antics we put up with. Last night, I was like “okay, stop now” every ten minutes or so.

Tonight, Steve’s girlfriend is coming over for dinner, and I hope we make a good impression. I know Brian says that we’re just supposed to be ourselves, but for Steve’s sake, I hope it goes well. To him, this means a great deal, and I don’t want to do anything that makes him unhappy.

Andi…

She’s nice and from what Steve says, she’s kind of cool. I guess I think anyone who has the guts to write novels should be considered cool, but that could just be egotism speaking. That’s all, I’m out now. Nighty night.

A few days ago, my husband, our roommate, and I were sitting around and talking about our three (now four) cats. The felines had been anger-ridden all day and hissing at each other at nearly ever occasion, so Steve commented that all of them needed blogs. At the time, we giggled and moved on, but now, looking back on it, I guess I wonder what that stereotype really implies.

Blogs as a whole have been a part ofdaily internet surfing for me at least for the last several years. Anything from the feelings of my friends to the ways of fixing a broken motherboard to tips on cats can be found in blogs. A simple google search can lead people to thousands of web logs, filled with thoughts and opinions of other people, digested news (see most articles on Digg), tipcs and tricks, personal information, and the genera lattitude of nearly total strangers.

It always puzzled me then why people even bother with blogs. Surely there are better places to go for news, and plenty of sites have tips and tricks on computers that are far more qualified. Personal information doesn’t belong on the Net at all (in my opinion), and really how much do you want to know about how a random Sally feels this afternoon after being dumped by her boyfriend for her slimmer best friend?

When I first started writing this it was a test to see the major differences between this blog and a home brewed one running on a personal computer. It was just a test, and nothing personal should ever fall upon those test pages. Now, though, I really wonder if blogs have their place in the world, very possibly sandwiched between human conversation and near total silence. My husband says that blogs are wothless. He argues that people should be talking to each other instead of putting things down in a blog because that way the meaning is always crisp and clear. In a blog, things could get confused.

I could never argue with that until I tried blogging as a way of release and realized that maybe it’s almost human nature to want to share our lives with the world. Privacy aside, we’re social creatures and love to know about each other, love to share moments and be a part of other people’s lives. That’s why we own cell phones by the dozen and instant message the Hell out of our friends, why we talk about football games and those movies that make us cry. We’re by far more social than not. (To those who argue that we no longer know our next door neighbors, I say this: a person half way across the world is still my neighbor on this little planet and if everyone could grasp that concept, we’d live better lives.)

I like talking to my husband and friends about the better points of life, kittens, jobs, exciting summer plans, vacations, best home-made cheesecake and much more. You probably tell your friends things all the time. But what if you had a chance to tell the whole world what you were telling them? I guess a lot of people take that opportunity.

Take this blog, for example. Odds are no one will see it.

We skipped class yesterday to go and play with our three lovely cats. I want to say that I was surprised, but I wasn’t. After all, class is just us sitting in a small room and going through the motions while the cats are living, thinking beings that require our attention. Gee, which one would you pick?

At around noon today, the new black kitten came in via Linnea. At first I just “fur ball” with no fur, but he’s actually warming up to me quite a bit. He’ll be a very eager cat when he grows up, and ev en now he’s playful and curious. Unlike Squeaker, he’s not really into people, it seems. He shies away when I try to pick him up and wants to play when I put him in my lap. This will be one hell of a kitty, apparently.

This morning Steve told us that he got a ticket worth four points for driving around with a broken headlight and without any insurance. Turns out, he had the insurance in the glove compartment, and the car was indeed insured. He haa to respond within  three weeks but no less than two, and he’ll probably plead not guilty. I might take the day of the court off just to see what it’s like. I’ve never had to go there before.

I think he’s just a little unlucky with cars, but then again, I also feel that Brian and I had not made everything clear. We should’ve taken all the old paperwork out of the car and left only the most recent for Steve, like I do with the Corsica, but oh well. Now he doesn’t want to drive at all, although I think we can convince him to use the Corsica since it’s nothing but metal. Nothing can hurt it.

So now, it’s one hour until time to go home, I have a kitten to contend with and life is moving right along.

Ah, yes, things out here have gotten progressively weirder, if such was ever possible.

First, Sunday, we picked up a kitten from the petstore. Her name is now Squeaker because that’s the noise she makes when she tries to mew. She’s fifteen weeks old and terribly undernourished (counting her spines is fairly easy), but she is a very furry creature.  We went to the pet store to look at bunnies and came out one cat more than we started with.

She’s gray and colorful and very cute with the saddest eyes I’ve ever seen. Problem is, she needs to be in a home where she’s the only cat because she’s extremely dominant. Squeaker loves people, enjoys curling, and hates other cats. Although ours are getting along with her, it’s mostly midnight hisses and angry glares. Of our two cats, Chibi (the girl) is much more tolerant and almost wants to play with Squeaker, though the kitten still hisses at her all the time. Oreo does nothing but hiss; at a wild guess, he’s very confused, even about his own sister. I don’t exactly blame him for it.

The small kitten is agressive and doesn’t exactly like to back down. She seems to grasp her name to some extent and comes when we make eye contact, but she also attempts to claw at the furniture and us consistently. This is apparently as normal as her kneading and  mewing. Middle of the night has become a battle ground between the cats. Yesterday we separated them for the day and that went well, but today we gave them free reign, and I don’t even want to know what that will turn into.

Sunday we tried to punsh and reward the cats based on how they behaved toward Squeaker. It’s Tuesday now, and we’ve given up that. Now we just reward them for not killing each other. Steve, our roommate, has taken to the little pip-squeak, which is great considering I have work all day along with my husband and the kitten needs time alone with humans.

As maybe a dose of progress, given their dislike of each other Sunday night, Monday went pretty smoothly. We may end up separating them again for a few days, but in the end, Squeaker will pull through fine.

That said, Linnea has managed to con both me and Brian (we all work for the same company) into getting a little black kitten currently named Clark. I have no idea how she did it, but she did. At first we thought that Seqeaker might not make it and the other kitten would be the only one, but now that she’s fine, we’re going to have four cats in the house at one time. How that goes, I am afraid to even wonder.

We were originally going to let them both at it and see which kitten was more comfortable, then find a better home for the other one. The idea is that Squeaker is much more independent, which we didn’t know until after she came home, and she would probably flourish much better in a home where she is the only cat. The new kitten has always lived in a muti cat home, so it may actually do better with our cats for company rather than living by itself. So, we figured that if Squeaker couldn’t adapt to having a younger ball of fur to boss around, we could find a home for her. But then, she did just fine.

Our older cats (1 year old brother and sister) are eating kitten food again because apparently they like it better and Squeaker needs the nutrition, since she’s so very young.
Brian and I are also working on a project for class that is way above our heads in every way possible. Somehow this fails to surprise me, but oh well. Right now we have a cheater’s way out, but if we have to create our own, we’ll need time, and kittens do not exactly make for a lot of spare time. May the world not fall apart.

Next week, school fees are due, so if we fail to pay those, we won’t have to worry about the deadlines, although my parents will probably murder me at that point. I may not think much of school (given that I have a full time job, a house of my own, a husband, a part time home business, and cats), but my parents are old school about it, and I tend to respect them. Plus, a diploma in computer science added onto a slowly forming computer game can’t possibly hurt.

So, right now, that’s life in a nutshell. Tomorrow it may totally change, or it may not. The cats may end up trying to kill me, or not. Don’t know.

All I know for a fact is work ends in an hour and a half, there might be college after that, then dinner, and then sleep. Tomorrow can take care of itself.

So, I guess this is the beginning, although it’s going to start with the end. Our room mate was just fired (read: dismissed) from a job he got only a month ago. Not sure why, but that’s the gist of IT nowadays. It was supposed to be his month of probation, and he did remarkably good, in my opinion, but I guess that’s not really enough in today’s world. Maybe it’s just me, I don’t know.

So, now I get the bloody excitement of coming home to a mopy roommate with a lot to think about.

It’s my grandma’s birthday today, and I should really call to find out how old she is, but I don’t want to. As long as she thinks she’s twenty, who am I to tell her otherwise? Perhaps she is just happy as things stand now, and that’s what matters. I mean, she forget names and sometimes refers to me by my mom’s name, but other than that, she is living the kind of life she’s wanted while living back in Russia. So what does age matter in comparison to that?

As it is, I’ll go ask Mom when I get off work while we’re picking up flowers and a card for her. Hopefully they have pink roses since those are absolutely gorgeous.