Posts tagged “personal”

Twenty years of blogging, from sandwich diaries to AWS takedowns, coming out (twice) to becoming American. The blog has outlasted Slashdot, nearly outlasted Twitter, and documented almost my entire adult life. I was right about who I am and what I do. Here's to whatever comes next.

Today I became an American citizen. I came partly for safety -- Trump's Muslim Ban terrified green card holders like me -- but also because after 11 years, America has seeped into me. Despite its very real flaws, I'm fundamentally optimistic about this country's future. And wanting to help fix it? That's pretty American.

I use shoes as a metaphor for gender identity. Most people are fine with what they're born with, but others struggle, and some find it excruciating. The ongoing revolution in gender isn't just about trans people. It's everyone realizing shoes come in all sizes, colors, and styles. Mine fit better now.

As a teenager I planned my own suicide with a specific date. I missed it, and that changed everything. Now I think of my life as a bonus round: the scoreboard is off, I can't win or lose, and everything I do beats the alternative of nothing.

The web saved my life as a suicidal, closeted gay teenager in Trinidad, connecting me to people and information I desperately needed. It then taught me everything I know. That's why I've spent nearly 20 years building websites, and why I'm driven to make it easier for others to build them too.

After a slow six-month transition, I've stepped back from awe.sm. I remain an advisor, but I'm now a free agent for the first time in a decade, working on tools to make web development easier. Not job hunting, not in stealth mode, just coding.

I just got my green card after a six-year wait, so I've been thinking hard about why Americans should support immigration reform. The short answer: immigration is basic economics. It creates wealth for everyone, keeps goods affordable, and immigrants only come when jobs exist. Love your country? Make immigration easier.

I'm a gay man who grew up closeted in Trinidad, attending a Catholic boys school, contemplating suicide. I'm writing this for gay kids who need to hear what I needed to hear then: it gets better. Leave your town, come out to friends, fall in love. I was so wrong to despair.

I turned 29 yesterday. Unlike most people, I've never had to agonize over my path: the web found me at 15 and I've never looked back. I'm doing exactly what I always wanted, exactly where I want to be. I know how lucky that makes me.

A Vermont mother wrote a brilliant letter defending her gay son. The standout line: "If you want to tout your own morality, you'd best come up with something more substantive than your heterosexuality. You did nothing to earn it; it was given to you." I want it everywhere.

Three years after first hearing Obama promise universal healthcare in Oakland, I watched him deliver on that promise. Not perfect, not fully universal, but the biggest healthcare reform in a generation. The optimism I felt that day in 2007 was justified.

Ten years ago I registered this domain from my brother's couch in Clapham, fresh off the boat from Trinidad. The blog itself came a few months later. I grabbed screenshots of the old designs this morning -- they are gloriously funky.

Today's my last day at Yahoo!. I joined to fulfill a literal teenage dream, and it delivered: I became a better developer, engineer, and teammate. But after four years of incredible growth, I've hit a wall. Time to go somewhere new and start growing again.

I'm leaving Yahoo! to join Snowball Factory as technical lead and employee #1. We're building tools to help content creators use social media more effectively and measure their results. It's several hard problems at once, which is exactly why I'm excited.

A throwaway comment from my mother when I was eight has defined my entire life: "It's never cool to not know something." I'd been performing ignorance of cricket to seem cool. That mild rebuke turned me into the insatiable infovore I am today.

2009 was a light year for blogging, with Twitter and Hacker News absorbing most of my output. Highlights included predicting Twitter's tagline change, writing a flawed but decent short story, and posts on journalism's death, immigration, the App Store, and Avatar.

In 2000, a spotty kid in a tracksuit conned me out of my phone on a London train. I chased him down and got it back, but lost my faith in strangers. Last night, history seemed to repeat itself, until the kid handed the phone back. Faith restored.

I got my US visa renewed today, but no thanks to the petty bureaucrat at window 5 who objected to my American address, American phone numbers, and honest answers on my forms. He was rude, unhelpful, and left me without clear instructions. I got the visa anyway. He's still a dick.

The California Supreme Court upheld Prop 8, letting a voting majority strip away my civil rights. So fuck you, California voters. The rest of the country is moving on without you, and soon you'll just look like hateful throwbacks alongside Mississippi.

Two small moments define love for me: my father pulling my mother up to dance to their cheesy song on an empty beach, and my impossibly cool brother literally stepping back, breathless at the sight of his girlfriend. Those unguarded moments are what the word means to me.

My family thinks I take long showers. To settle the debate, I present a minute-by-minute breakdown of my typical morning routine, featuring scalding water, existential crises, conditioner that never rinses out, and significant time lost contemplating personal projects, mortality, and the deceptive packaging of hair care products.

My boyfriend thinks he's my "exception." He is not.

I went to the inaugural concert and was completely blown away. Tuesday's inauguration will draw more people to the Mall than live in my entire home country.

2008 was dominated by Obama's election and the fight against Prop 8, with some tech commentary on Chrome, Android, Twitter, and the future of the web mixed in. Also: the global financial system collapsed, Sarah Palin imploded, and HTTP conversation codes became a surprise hit.

My favourite tweets from 2008, collected in a zero-effort year-end post. Heated leather seats, Madonna's lifestyle choices, slow iPhones, pressure-sensitive sellotape and Gloria Gaynor's uncertain survival prospects. These are the tweets that made me laugh out loud this year.

Vote.

A cute puppy photo, because it's my blog and I do what I want.

At 17, I anonymously published a coming-out article in a Trinidad newspaper that unexpectedly filled my inbox with hundreds of emails from closeted locals, sparking a mailing list and real-world community. Ten years later, I'm sharing the original piece, cringe-worthy condescension and all.

Started programming at 11 at computer camp in Trinidad, building shapes in GWBASIC. My first real program got me my first job. Best advice: program badly for a long time, and document everything. I love web development the way other people love sunlight.

I've got this.

Being gay means even mundane purchases like buying beer require researching whether the company is funding anti-gay causes. Straight people just don't have to think about this stuff.

After 18 months of worsening night vision, halos, and glowing blobs, I finally have an answer: my eyes are microscopically flat. No treatment, apparently just live with it. At least it's not a brain tumor.

Taking a ten-day trip to Barbados. Back soon!

Still here, just exhausted. Follow me on Twitter and the linklog in the meantime.

Spent an hour on NoMoreDates, a dating site for serious urban professionals. Their advanced matching algorithms searched their entire database and came up with zero matches. They're supposed to solve that problem, not confirm it. It's been that kind of week, and it's only Tuesday.

Despite ongoing global disasters, this week had bright spots: gay marriage became legal in California, Edwards endorsed Obama, Republicans lost another special election, and best of all, I helped register a man who hadn't voted in 15 years because someone lied to him about his rights after prison.

Florida wants to fine people for hanging fake bull testicles from their trucks. I'm not sure what's more depressing: that this is popular, that someone was offended, or that lawmakers think banning offensive things is acceptable governance.

Visiting London after 15 months away reminded me how much I love it, and how much I prefer California. Friends are thriving, I have an adorable new niece, and I'm no longer the family baby. But British weather, hair-frizzing humidity and sad water pressure sent me happily home to sunshine.

Visiting London for a week to see friends I haven't seen in 15 months, meet my new niece, and surprise a friend at their birthday party. Being back is weird. More on that later.

My blog turns 7: 1,298 posts, 350,000 words, more than a quarter of my life documented. It's now my longest sustained personal endeavor. I've changed enormously in that time, but the blog outlasted every school, job, and home I've had.

Fast food menus are the one form of junk mail I actually appreciate. They're geographically targeted and tell me exactly what's available for delivery in my area. What other junk mail do you find genuinely useful?

My temporary crown shattered, which accidentally reminded me I had a DMV appointment that day, which meant I had two hours to study for a driving test I'd forgotten about. Panicked, crammed, passed with a perfect score. Also getting a California ID. Might even learn to drive someday.

Wikipedia already had that newly-rediscovered Helen Keller photo in her entry just four days after it made the news. Britannica could never.

I've always been drawn to boys. Every one of them. The way they move, their features, their smiles. I can't help but notice. It's spring, I'm gay, and this is my rambling love letter to the essence of boy. More valuable than cat pictures. Probably.

Gay teens denied normal adolescent development become emotionally stunted adults, making "gay culture" seem dysfunctional. But that dysfunction is our doing, not theirs. Things improve as kids come out younger and just live their lives. Stop tolerating gayness. Stop noticing it. Just love your kids unconditionally.

Obama's taken the delegate lead, my eyes are killing me from screen strain, and work was awful. But karaoke at Jason's birthday party helped on all fronts: great people, great laughs, and six feet of screen distance giving my poor eyes a break.

I spent months as an Obama precinct captain in San Francisco, making hundreds of awkward phone calls, knocking on doors, climbing impossible hills, and handing out flyers at BART stations. I can't vote myself, but I did my part. Now it's your turn.

A video worth watching.

Twitter's down, so I'm blogging like it's 2003. Anyway: gym is finally awesome. Pushed past the constant soreness stage into the feel-incredible stage. Wooooo!

Debating whether wearing my Yahoo! Pride shirt to the gym is too provocative. It's just a comfortable workout shirt, but wondering if the rainbow logo makes it a statement I'm not prepared to back up.

I used a handy web service to visualize my Twitter habits: I tweet most on Wednesdays, peak at 9am on my morning commute, and my monthly volume eerily mirrors my quality of life, dropping off when a big deadline crunch hit in July.

Went out in the Castro last night and was reminded why I don't do that anymore. It was like a religious right fever dream of gay stereotypes. I know better than to generalize, but wow. Note to self: those are not my people.

A big year: moved from London to San Francisco, got an iPhone, relaunched the site after 7 years, worked too hard, and blogged less than I'd like. More life updates than deep thinking, but the foundations are in place for a better 2008.

Three resolutions: get my driving licence so I can escape the city occasionally, lose the weight I gained when I moved to SF and take better care of my eyes, and make more time for romance. Not necessarily in that order.

On holiday in Trinidad, back in SF for NYE. Anyone have interesting plans?

Taste in art isn't about refinement or pretension. It's evolutionary signaling: we're attracted to skill and novelty because talented people make good mates. So stop being proud or embarrassed about your cultural preferences. You're just a monkey reading other monkeys' signals.

Twitter, email, IM: American colleagues, Trinidadian friends in Turkey, my brother in London, a Ukrainian who might be in Paris, British friends at work. All while having lunch in San Francisco. I'm pretty plugged in.

My grandfather Nils Voss, born in 1908, died this week at 99. We weren't close, and now I realize how much I never knew about him. I'm left with an image of him on his porch, rum in hand, laughing. He did well. Goodbye, grampa.

Laurie sat on her camera and broke it. When she blamed her weight, I called her an idiot. Then she hit me with the perfect comeback: "The camera doesn't lie." I'm proud of her.

Got hit by comment spam that broke the comments section. Fixed now, though I'm baffled why anyone would bother writing a spambot to crack my simple spam protection.

Been working like an American for 10 months straight with zero vacation days, and it shows -- best work of my career. But the deadline is in 6 days and then I'm done. I need a vacation badly.

Having drunk friends show up at bedtime is actually a compliment. Still tired though.

Rearranged the site a bit: new clutter at the bottom including an experimental "recently bookmarked blogs" feature, the return of the calendar module, some IE7 fixes, and a helpful notice for IE6 users suggesting they upgrade.

Check out my Christmas list!

Went as the Greatest American Hero this Halloween. Pretty happy with how the homemade costume turned out, though my flatmate Ernie upstaged everyone as Kim Jong Il. New photos from the Digg party photobooth on Flickr.

Saw The Go! Team live after years of avoiding gigs due to a claustrophobia incident. They were extraordinary. Also, Delhi's solution to killer monkeys is training bigger, meaner monkeys, which pretty much sums up humanity.

I want to hear George Takei sincerely say "Oh Em Gee." That's it. Also, Heroes is basically a Star Trek reunion at this point, and things will get truly ridiculous when Colm Meaney shows up.

I mapped Trinidad against San Francisco and the Bay Area: they're roughly the same size, meaning my daily commute to Sunnyvale crosses most of my home country. Also, I'm now 243 miles closer to Trinidad than when I lived in London.

Threw a hat party. It was a success. Now I'm drowning in leftover beer.

I knew Karlie Rogers briefly, in 1998. She made corny jokes and laughed easily. On September 11th, 2001, she was in the north tower. There are no lessons in her death. It was random and senseless. She was a good person. I remember her with fondness and sadness.

Apple dropped the iPhone price $200 after just three months. Ouch. But hey, the new 160GB iPod Classic will finally hold my entire music library, and my birthday is coming up. More Apple purchases seem like the obvious cure for Apple purchase regret.

Lost my watch this morning. Found it plugged into my monitor. USB watches have their downsides.

I'm building a FAQ for well-meaning straight people who have questions about gay people but are too embarrassed to ask. I need your help: what questions should I include? Submit via comments or email, anonymously if you prefer.

I've relaunched Planet Afterlife on my own server using SimplePie and CodeIgniter instead of the flaky Planet Feed Reader. It's fast, except when it's updating every 20 minutes. Don't be that guy.

Removed the "beta" label, added tons of tags, and spent way too long manually tagging six-plus years of old entries. Interesting to travel backwards through my own thoughts and notice the cycles and obsessions. All done now.

I hurt my back in February and navigated six months of billing hell despite full insurance. The saga ended with a questionnaire assuming I'd be suing someone -- with no option to say the accident was my own fault. American healthcare is exhausting in ways that go beyond quality.

Simplified the layout so it works on laptop screens. Still broken in IE6, but mostly there. Now if you'll excuse me, I accidentally had Harry Potter delivered to my office and I have reading to do.

Launched a new design and it's a bit rough around the edges. Fixing it. Sleep first.

Surprise! Seldo.Com is rebuilt from scratch after five years on the same creaky backend. New features include tags, search, Twitter and Flickr streams, and human-readable URLs. The visual redesign isn't quite done, but the new system is live and I'll fix things as I go.

Every morning I perform contradictory maintenance rituals on my body: fighting bacteria here, cultivating it there, drying this, moistening that. There must be a more efficient system. Though sticking my eyes in my armpits seems impractical.

Born two weeks late and already smug about it, I've spent 25 years being the forgotten third child, building fake computers, surviving high school beatings and my own darkest thoughts, riding the dot-com boom, falling in love with London, and somehow landing at Yahoo. The adventure continues.

Camping out for an iPhone today. Currently 76th in line at the Burlingame Apple store (smarter than fighting the SF crowds). Got one! Impressions to follow.

(I am way below quota on blog entries this month folks; sorry!) This weekend was my first Gay Pride weekend in San Francisco, and as is customary around this time, one stops to think about the whole concept of being "proud" of one's sexuality. What's it about, really? For one thing, having a big parade where everybody goes overboard with stereotypes -- dykes on bikes, muscle marys, leather daddies, drag queens and twinks (sexy though they may be) -- doesn't exactly send the right message about what gay people are really like. Of course, a parade that accurately represented homosexuals would be 90% completely ordinary people, and that would make for a pretty dull parade ("...and here come the gay accountants!"). For another, having a big parade where people go over the top to show how WONDERFUL it is to be gay smacks a little -- no, a lot -- of over-compensation. There is no reason life as a homosexual cannot be absolutely as fun, fulfilling and happy as life as a heterosexual can be. Going...

Facebook Mobile means UK pokes literally vibrate in my pocket, which is strange and delightful. Also had a great weekend: sneak preview of Ratatouille, then an 11-mile bike adventure around San Francisco with some WWDC geeks. Next weekend is Pride. Oh dear.

My grocery list swings wildly between sophisticated cheese shop hauls and pure childhood junk food binges. I genuinely can't tell which one represents the real me.

Just your typical SF weekend: a giant horde of zombies colliding with 5000 anarchists on bicycles. Nothing unusual here.

My Amazon front page is now NSFW because I browsed for underwear without buying any, and now it's wall-to-wall lingerie and posing thongs. My fix: buy the most boring underwear they sell so the algorithm declares victory. Update: it's cookie-based, so never mind, Amazon is fine.

Twitter crossed a threshold for me today, from "website I use" to "service I can't live without." Add me if you want 140-character windows into my daily life. You'll get Twitter eventually. Just like blogging.

Looking for a travel buddy for Hawaii this summer. Anyone interested?

Found my go-to SF club: DNA Lounge, run by a retired Netscape programmer who does it for love, not money. Perfect venue, great crowd dressed like extras from Hackers. Someone stole a tiny flashlight off my keyring but left my iPod. Small price for a brilliant night.

Seeing Orion over Valencia Street got me thinking about how San Francisco's geography shapes its culture. A dense, isolated city on the edge of a vast ocean and empty continent fills you with an urge to connect and build. Maybe that's why the internet happened here.

Amazon Prime is a blessing and a curse. There's nothing quite like the thrill of a surprise package showing up at your door that you completely forgot you ordered.

Walking San Francisco at night, I spotted Orion overhead. A poem about dreams, concrete, grass in the cracks, old men begging, and a city of eternal children reshaping the world. I'm far from who I thought I'd be. Grateful for that. Here to make the next world.

The dollar is weak. Come visit while everything's cheap.

I went to Yuri's Night at NASA Ames, a science expo honoring Gagarin's first spaceflight that turns into a rave by midnight. Surreal highlights: a fake bureaucracy dome, unbaked "piazzas," and a busload of hot Stanford kids interning at Google.

My blogger code: B9 d+ t++ k- s u f- i-- o x+ e+ l- c--

Drinking and snark at an anti-Burning Man party, winning $11 at a lesbian poker night, and spending Easter watching drag queens, gay men, and hunky Jesus competitions in the park. San Francisco, I love you.

Spent Sunday in Dolores Park at a proper tea party in formal wear, complete with cucumber sandwiches, china from thrift stores, and dancing with a cane. A marching band showed up. San Francisco is making me even gayer. It was grand.

Yahoo! Widgets 4 is live! I'm proud to have worked on something I'd genuinely recommend. I also helped write the manual. It's 1am. The press loves it. Time to sleep.

Quick life updates: found an indie club (Popscene), got a new bed, loving the SF sunshine and omnipresent hippies. Futurama refs aren't geeky enough here. Yahoo Widgets 4 launches Wednesday. Also bought a massive brushed aluminium computer. Giant monitors next month.

I went to see Obama speak in Oakland today. He's as charismatic as advertised, but I came to hear policy specifics. I got some: universal healthcare by end of his first term, carbon caps, troop withdrawal by the election. Light on details, heavy on hope. I'm impressed, and I can't even vote.

Something's going on at Widgets HQ. Also, I'm into chai tea now, but I'm keeping my non-hippy credentials intact by sticking with regular milk.

I had a dream where an Irish barman explained whale drinking habits to me, complete with infographics. Mink whales drink you under the table; white whales drink you completely underwater. I woke up laughing for 30 seconds. My brain is weird.

I lost my Citibank ATM card and it's been a nightmare. Losing the card locks me out of online banking too, phone transfers aren't possible, and their "Global Executive Banking" program is useless outside US business hours. I'm closing this account as soon as humanly possible.

Watching the Oscars on the West Coast with a room full of competitive gay men is basically Eurovision without the voting. Highlights: Beyonce's barely concealed fury, the three-way diva-off, too much Jack Nicholson, and Forest Whitaker's inexplicably hot wife. Also, my back is finally better.

Used a friend's visit as an excuse to tourist around SF, hitting Marin Headlands and Point Reyes. Back is healing slowly. Finally did grocery shopping after four weeks, though the massive US portion sizes mean I barely need to eat anyway.

A Dish Network telemarketer called my brand new landline and tried to convince me that 1.5Mbps is faster than 6Mbps because "smaller numbers are faster." I work for Yahoo. I hung up. Also: back pain, percocet, and I now officially exist thanks to my social security number arriving.

I spent 7 hours in a San Francisco ER today with an acute back spasm, which prompted me to compare the NHS and US healthcare systems firsthand. Surprisingly, it's a tie: registration hassles exist in both countries, and both treated me without upfront payment.

Threw my back out Wednesday and have been hobbling around ever since. Everything in my life changed at once, so who knows the culprit: desk, bed, shuttle, laptop keyboard? Time to find a chiropractor.

I spend a whirlwind Saturday mattress shopping and furnishing an entire San Francisco apartment from scratch, encountering a cast of memorable characters along the way. The experience crystallizes a real cultural difference: in America, money is an enabler and service is genuinely enthusiastic. By midnight, I'm home.

I'm falling hard for San Francisco. Between touring the Paramount Theatre, exploring the Mission, and marveling at Castro's gay hardware stores and the February sunshine, I'm overwhelmed in the best way. Huge portions, cheap taxis, hills with views. This city is my shiny new toy.

I've just moved to San Francisco, and American capitalism is already blowing my mind. Within hours of getting my keys to a totally empty flat, Craigslist connected me with Luke, a charming cabinet-maker moonlighting as a furniture courier, who whisked me to IKEA and back for half the delivery price.

Blogging from Yahoo's wifi bus on route 280, past a lake with birds. This is nothing like the Northern line.

Just arrived in San Francisco and I can't stop smiling. It's hot, sunny, weirdly affordable, and looks like SimCity. I love it here.

I'm moving to San Francisco. Intermission.

Got a new haircut. It looks indie (good) but fashion-mode (tragic), suits my head (good) but makes me look really gay (bad). Still undecided. Vote on which you prefer.

Moving soon. The flight is Monday.

Moving across the Atlantic in days, toggling between panic and glee. Mika's *Life in Cartoon Motion* is the perfect soundtrack. Also: Barney Google was a comic strip before it was a search engine. Someone should look into that.

It's 3:30am after my leaving party, and London is finally sinking in. After nearly a decade, this city took a kid who makes things appear on screens and turned it into a life. Now I'm off to fool a whole new city. London's fingerprints are permanently under my skin.

Leaving the UK on the 22nd. Last chance to see me is Thursday the 18th. Saturday night at Wyvil's from 8ish if you want to say goodbye or just share a pint.

Tonight is my last Popstarz before I leave the country. Come join me as I go out dancing one final time, claiming what's mine.

Applying for a US work visa is a sleepless, form-filled, fingerprint-imperiling ordeal involving hours in the freezing cold, bulletproof glass, and a $500 "fraud prevention fee." But it worked. I got approved on the spot. I'm moving to San Francisco.

Got the visa! Too exhausted to elaborate. Details tomorrow.

Spending tomorrow at the US Embassy hoping to score my L-1 visa. Fingers crossed.

Got Bose in-ear headphones for Christmas and they've completely transformed my music library. Everything sounds richer and fuller than before. I've had to re-evaluate my entire iTunes rating system because suddenly everything sounds amazing.

Took a superhero quiz out of boredom. I'm Spider-Man, apparently: intelligent, witty, a bit geeky. Sounds about right.

My Last.FM top 20 artists of 2006, with some surprises: Snow Patrol topped the list, Alanis was a one-day back-catalog binge, and Goldfrapp would rank higher if they'd released more. Late discoveries Larrikin Love and We Are Scientists missed the cut entirely.

Yay free tubes, yay Ken! Happy New Year!

I jinxed it. James Brown, Gerald Ford, and Saddam Hussein all died while I was away, plus Saddam's execution was a rushed mess. And it's only 11am on New Year's Eve.

A year in review: accidental Google fame via Orlando Bloom, skin allergies, dental hell, antibiotic depression, Ukraine, being made redundant the day after praising my job, and relocating to San Francisco. Also Snakes on a Plane was pretty good. Archives finally fixed too.

My Trinidadian number can send but not receive international texts. Use my UK number instead. Also, still hot and sunny.

Posting from Tobago, where the beach looks like this. Hope you're enjoying the fog, London!

Saw Eragon, pretty visuals, terrible plot. Also, heading to Tobago and Trinidad for two weeks, back for New Year's Eve. Catch you then!

Still don't know when I'm moving to San Francisco, and won't until after January 4th. We're all just going to have to deal with the uncertainty. Also: Christmas shopping done, budget thoroughly destroyed, no regrets.

Got hacked again, but caught it faster this time and found the entry point. Hopefully that's the end of it.

Tried a Wii at a friend's paella party. I've never been a console gamer, but this thing is different. Playing tennis that actually feels like tennis is basically low-fi virtual reality. Nintendo have made me interested in console gaming for the first time in decades. Non-gamers will want one.

My hosting account was hacked Friday: phishing sites, bulk emailers, the works. My host caught it after 11 hours and shut me down. I've been cleaning up since, but the hole may still be open. Upgrades and migrations are coming. I feel awful about being an unwilling accomplice to criminals.

I love that weightless feeling in a decelerating elevator. Also: the Antikythera mechanism blows my mind. The ancient Greeks were thousands of years ahead of their time, yet their civilization collapsed while China's persisted. What happened? Someone explain European history to me.

Scraping the bottom of the ambition barrel: I want 50 LinkedIn connections.

My friends Alex and Sup got married in Oxford's Pembroke College chapel in a beautiful Hindu-Christian ceremony. First wedding where I genuinely enjoyed myself throughout. Dinner in a 17th-century hall, dancing on ancient flagstones, bhangra mixed with pop, and even dance-offs. Congrats to the happy couple!

We're auctioning off our desk junk for charity as we head out the door. Highlights include a silver tube map, a Yahoo! sports bottle, and Christmas lights. All proceeds go to the RSPCA, so get bidding!

After being made redundant, I somehow ended up with four job offers from Yahoo's US office. I'm joining Yahoo! Widgets in San Francisco, leaving London and my beloved friends behind. It's a huge step, but I left Trinidad once and survived. Onwards and upwards.

Three recent encounters with strangers: a fun iPod music swap on the tube, getting scammed out of two quid by a convincing con man, and an unexpectedly genuine chat with an unemployed carpenter about the perverse incentives of the benefits system. Two out of three ain't bad.

Been absent, but hope to post more soon.

(Etymology: "I love SF" -> "I heart SF" -> "I "I less-than-three SF" -> "I cone-ass SF" -> "I ass-cone SF") The reason I'm loving SF is that somebody made that joke and everybody in the car got it without having to explain. Also, nice weather and good food.

Heading to California unexpectedly! Details later. Need sleep.

Heading to San Francisco (Sunnyvale, really) for handover work following my department's shutdown. I'll be there from the 27th through November 2nd, including Halloween. If you're in the area, get in touch!

Got a job. Details coming.

Five things I plan to do by October 2007: fix this blog software, walk the Thames Path to Greenwich, visit the London Wetland Centre, see Evita and Chicago live, and have dinner at The Ivy. Also, I want a new job, but tomorrow would be preferable.

Sick, soaked, and hoping for no tsunamis.

Lost my dream job Monday, had a wisdom tooth pulled today. Sitting here jobless, bleeding, unable to eat. It can only get better from here.

I "do the web": I surf it, build on it, theorize about it. Blogs, CMS, e-commerce, web architecture -- it's basically my whole life. I like it enough that that doesn't even seem sad to me anymore.

My housemate and I have been approved for a mortgage, and we're house-hunting between Clapham Common and Stockwell. We're knowingly paying more than rent for now, betting London property appreciation covers the difference. It's a gamble, and I got my data from housepricecrash.co.uk. But investments don't usually let you redecorate.

Walking down Old Compton Street gives me a rare, warm sense of belonging among people who share my sexuality and history. I wonder: is this what straight people feel everywhere, all the time? And if so, is one street's concentrated freedom worth being ghettoized everywhere else?

Invented the word "sacrospinnicus" from something I saw online. First to guess the source wins £10, minus £1 per hint I give.

I've accidentally picked up an outdoor hobby. Also: Why do socialists drink herbal tea? Because all proper tea is theft.

Went roller disco-ing for my 25th birthday and got ID'd. Best. Present. Ever. Also considering buying proper skates, since our neighbourhood has plenty of concrete.

Wandered London, had pub lunch, played in the park, and took lots of photos -- many involving a can of Baked Beans.

Taking a break from heavy topics to share the cutest couple alive, cuter than pandas holding hat-wearing kittens. Also: is Blair done? My sources say he'll last through the party conference, but I'm not so sure he makes it to October.

A bad tooth led to metronidazole, which led to five days of crushing depression and nearly stepping in front of a bus. Turns out prescription antibiotics can do that to you. Our grasp on reality is terrifyingly fragile and subjective. I'm fine now, but it was a close thing.

Four years ago I blogged about a cute geek from an Apple Switch ad, convinced he was gay. He denied it. Turns out I was right -- he came out last year. Great news, except I was apparently one of the creepy guys who made that period harder for him. Sorry, Jeremiah.

Killing time with a sore jaw by taking OkCupid quizzes. Turns out I'm an emotional hippie, attracted to pretty boys, an English genius, a cool nerd, and a success-driven Type Three. The grammar test at least salvaged my pride.

My dentist has now botched two fillings in three weeks, both requiring emergency root canals. The second woke me at 4am on a Sunday, sending me across London for expensive private treatment. I'm filing a formal complaint with the NHS. My teeth and my wallet are both in ruins.

Had a nightmare dentist visit where the anaesthetic wore off mid-drilling. Wondering if I have a malpractice case. Lawyers, help me out. Also: the "suspicious" passengers removed from a plane were just Asian. Shocking to nobody. The hysteria of their fellow passengers deserves consequences.

Sharing some funny lyrics from Orson's "Already Over" -- not directed at anyone, just genuinely hilarious. The delivery makes it even better. Recommend the album.

Snakes on a Plane opens today! I can't see it until tomorrow, but I'm excited nonetheless. Snakes on a Plaaaaaaaaaane!

Celebrating Mikey's new law job and two consecutive 6pm finishes after a month of crunch. We just launched Yahoo! Tones in the UK and Germany. Also: dentist tomorrow for the first stage of my bionic molar.

Heard my first Christmas carol on August 10th. I am appalled. With Halloween no longer serving as a barrier, there's nothing stopping Christmas from creeping all the way back to Easter.

Had an emergency root canal Wednesday morning. Not a great way to start the day.

Survived two of four fillings. The nurse was actually good at suction, he didn't bruise my lips, and the anaesthetic kicked in before the drill did. Face still paralysed. Apparently I look like a stroke victim on the tube.

Brain's fried but still firing. That end-of-week paradox where you finally have time to think and say something interesting, but can't. Until you can.

My latest dentist visit revealed three botched fillings and a tooth so destroyed it's basically just a hole. The projected repair costs are astronomical enough that my lifelong justification for sobriety ("at least it's cheaper than drinking") may finally require a spreadsheet to defend. Brush your teeth, kids.

I've been reading about genetics and now I'm questioning free will, consciousness, and whether our lives are just emergent behavior from genes meeting environment. Are we like water droplets on a windshield: unpredictable paths, inevitable outcomes?

I give up on this shit.

While I transcribe my analog notes, here are two new photo sets: marketing spotted in Ukraine, and an annotated collection of pretty buildings and statues, mostly for the terminally geeky.

Back from my trip and sorting through 338 photos. Check out my timeline, people I met, and a peek at Mikey's life in Ukraine. Much more to come.

Got a backlog of Ukraine stories to tell: beach holidays, attractive locals, extreme eating, Soviet-era monuments, befriending a kid without speaking his language, and the hell of mobile HTML editing.

Blogging live from Kharikov via GPRS, courtesy of my dad's bank office.

River tours, churches, midnight swimming, and blackmail material collected. Now heading to Kharkov to see the real Ukraine beyond Kiev's glitz, then driving back through the countryside.

I'm in Kiev with Mikey and forgot to mention it before leaving. Soviet architecture, gold-domed churches, WWII-themed restaurants, NATO gossip on the plane, marble subway stations with chandeliers, and a Stalin theme park featuring a 200-foot stainless steel Motherland statue. Also: mullets are in. More photos than you can handle coming soon.

Burger, footie, football shirt, pint of milk. This is peak heterosexuality for me, and I'm watching Family Guy in a Trinidad shirt.

Lost to England, but we had them worried for 82 minutes.

Power's out in central London. Hundreds of us sit here, useless without our machines. Browsing on borrowed wifi, twiddling thumbs, wondering if this counts as a valid reason to leave early.

I love London but Trinidad is home in a way Britain never quite will be. I daydream about returning, fixing the country's mess, raising kids in sunshine with room to roam. But I'm not ready yet, and being gay there is literally illegal. For now: undecided.

Been slacking on the blog. Go apologize to a cow.

Minor update to seldo.net: absolute URLs mean pictures now show correctly, inline CSS is stripped so images behave. Added a Music category too. Still working on per-user features.

X3 opens Friday and I'm seeing it opening day at Vue Leicester Square, evening showing. 8 tickets booked for the 7:30pm show. Text me or comment if you want in.

The water company warns of a drought while I sit here listening to rain pour down outside. Laughable.

Loving the new Snow Patrol album: depressing lyrics set to upbeat music, Sufjan Stevens name-checks, communal singing, and clapping. Also, Muse's "Supermassive Black Hole" sounds surprisingly Goldfrapp-esque, which the world needs more of. Good albums are overdue.

Coolness is just the respect of your peers. My peers aren't on MySpace judging my music taste, they're respecting my dancing, my conversation, my domain collection. So forget the hand-wringing: I'm not uncool, I'm unbelievably cool. And so are you.

Going to Popstarz this week with some Yahoo coworkers. Who's in?

I recognized my ex-housemate B from the bottom of a staircase at Leicester Square tube station, in the middle of a crowded platform. I recognized him by his ass. A skill I've apparently spent two years developing without realizing it.

Saw the Sultan's Elephant in London. It's here until Sunday, go see it. Also posted photos from my walk to work on Flickr.

Been quiet lately, but I'm loving the new Doctor Who, disappointed by the final West Wing series, and obsessed with CakePHP. More to come soon.

A meme stolen from Ed: four jobs, places I've lived, TV shows, vacation spots, favorite dishes, daily websites, and places I'd rather be. Coventry is the arsehole of the universe. Not tagging anyone, but help yourself.

I've developed an itchy skin reaction and suspect my laundry detergent (Ariel Liquitabs) is the culprit. Switching to Persil non-bio helped, but my wardrobe is still contaminated. Every morning is a gamble. Today was particularly bad, and I'm starting to fear something worse is to blame.

Five years, 946 posts. Not too shabby.

First proper free weekend in months. Highlights: Yahoo! UK's inaugural Hack Day, Popstarz, a spontaneous Cartoon Museum visit, funky dancing at Buttoned Down Disco, and a birthday pub lunch. My aching muscles confirm I'm no longer a teenager, but it was a great weekend.

Saw Syriana, good but no Munich. Also: 959 days until 2008, and the Democratic field is already depressingly weak. Gore and Kerry again? While Republicans have Giuliani and McCain? At least a Clinton-Rice race means a female president, even if she'll be stupid and corrupt or smart and evil.

Threw an 80s-themed housewarming for the Warwick crowd. Forgot to take any photos myself, but others captured it well. More intimate gatherings coming soon for those who haven't visited the new flat yet.

After a week of fever, I've realized my terrible diet is killing me. I'm committing to a month of cooking real food every day. I need your help: suggest three complete, healthy meals I can make in under 90 minutes, with fridge-friendly ingredients. No pimento peppers. Help me not die.

Finally well enough to sit up without falling over and make it into work. Still coughing like a dying goose, but I'll take the win.

Had a brutal flu all week, finally feeling human again just in time to go back to work. Typical. (Update: fever's back. Lame.)

I have internet again! New flat is gloriously 80s, grey and shiny. Close to the tube, got a dishwasher and a great view. Downsides: extortionate tech support, a shower that's only warm at waist height, and being slightly further from Popstarz.

Offline but not dead. New broadband on the way, so normal service resumes soon. Bear with me while I ration my expensive temporary connection.

Survived ten days of hell: moving house while simultaneously launching the new Yahoo! UK and German mobile sites. Nothing revolutionary, but a massive amount of work. Now I can breathe. Go buy some ringtones.

Too busy with work and moving house to blog or think. Friday is the big day.

Smoke-free clubbing is coming and I'm thrilled, even though it's nanny-state overreach and I'm a hypocrite. Also I didn't actually read the article properly -- the ban isn't until summer 2007.

Too hip for my own good.

I saw a young, privileged couple on the tube this morning and immediately loathed them. Not for their wealth, but for their effortless, inherited confidence: those intangible "soft skills" that propel mediocre people past better-qualified ones. I hate them most because I worry I might be one of them.

Roller Disco is the greatest thing to happen to Thursday nights. I didn't get it until I tried it myself, but now I'm sold. So sold, in fact, that it's where I'm having my next birthday party.

Buttoned Down Disco is this Friday. Also, the 2006 Bloggies site already crashed. Next year, all ten of you are nominating me.

A whale swam up the Thames. That was pretty cool. Then it died.

Stunning sunset over the UK today has me feeling spring's promise. Also discovered "anablog" -- I'm redefining it as notes you scribble on paper while traveling to post later. I have a massive one from my Tobago trip still waiting to go up.

Ed's back with a new WordPress blog. Go check it out.

Too busy to blog, so here's an excerpt from an email describing our new flat: very 80s decor, pink bathroom, a carpet with a storied past, but good sized rooms, a dishwasher, and closer to the tube.

Found a flat with A on Albert Square -- cheap for zone 2 and near the tube. Downside: a 12-day gap between moving out and moving in means sofa surfing. Friends with spare space, speak up.

Holiday photos are up on Flickr!

Brokeback Mountain was well-acted and believable but ultimately boring. I think I just don't care about ordinary people in fiction. Give me science fiction. Real or fake, mundane people and their mundane problems don't interest me, and I make no apologies for that.

Woken after 4 hours sleep by neighbour's dogs going berserk at some idiot who kept antagonising them. Foghorns, shouting, chaos. I'm up now, the dogs are still barking at everything, and I finally understand crimes of passion.

At a New Year's party, "frightened badger" photos spiraled into an absurd menagerie: confused badgers, amorous penguins, orgasming amoeba, and my favorite, partially hydrogenated vegetable oil. All you need is a camera and drunk people.

256 posts, two bombings, two vacations, one dream job at Yahoo, and a memory so bad I had to read my own blog to remember any of it. Net result: a pretty good year.

Back from holiday, tanned, rested, and starved of male company. I took 273 photos and need to go clubbing. Also, Google has decided my site is the place to find Orlando Bloom pictures.

Relaxing in Trinidad, minimal internet, heading to Tobago tomorrow. Posts and photos coming when I'm back in the land of broadband.

Heading to Trinidad for the Christmas holiday. Back for New Year's Eve, so count me in for your plans!

Caught some Christmas spirit at Waterstones — hot chocolate, lights, and presents. Now I'm packing for Trinidad and ready for a well-earned vacation, sneezes and all.

A massive fuel depot explosion rattled our windows at 6am, leaving a huge smoke cloud drifting over the house all day. Also saw the Jon Stewart show (disappointing), have a cold, and am possibly overdosing on mince pies. West Wing season 6 is keeping me up past my bedtime.

Our Christmas party was fantastic. I danced a lot, skipped the free bar, looked stupid in a suit, and nearly lost my expensive winter coat to a mysterious woman from finance. Also I'm awake at 3am on caffeine and somehow expect to be alert tomorrow.

Forced into renting a tuxedo for our "Black Tie" Christmas party. I look like a trapped monkey in suits, and apparently black tie is designed to eliminate all individuality. Desperately seeking a non-boring dinner jacket before this afternoon. Send help.

I was double-charged by my bank, emailed them, and they quietly refunded the money with no explanation or apology. Check your statements regularly -- I nearly missed an extra £80 disappearing from my account.

Really enjoying my new job at Yahoo! The team is great, the work is genuinely interesting, and a long boozy leaving do revealed nobody said anything homophobic all night, which is reassuring since I still haven't figured out how to come out at work.

Responding to comments on my defense of selfishness: I support free speech and personal choice, but not your right to harm others. Secondhand smoke crosses that line. America isn't monolithic. And yes, a smoking ban might cut union services, but fewer carcinogens is a net win.

I've started calculating RGB hex codes in my head, branching into pastels and secondary colours without looking anything up. I'm worried about what useful knowledge got displaced to make room for the ability to count in base 16.

I have an Amazon wish list if you want to buy me something. Also, I finally secured my WiFi after a neighbor started hogging our bandwidth. Sorry to any innocent freeloaders, but they left me no choice.

Still two gifts to find, but I'm doing it all from the warmth of home. Not stepping outside until Monday.

It's freezing, I'm settling into Yahoo!, and my new boss returns next week to shake things up again. Send me somewhere warm. Currently reading the Economist, playing with Konfabulator, and stressing about Christmas gifts.

Eurostar can take me to Paris and back for £75 this Friday. We live so close and never go! Anyone fancy joining me this weekend?

Went to the dentist and got three fillings, partly thanks to swapping booze for fizzy drinks. My teeth are a genetic disaster. Also: why isn't there a review site for doctors and dentists? Restaurants have them. Someone build this with me.

First day at Yahoo wasn't bad. The scale is staggering: patch PHP, build Apache modules, get machines just by asking. The resources make you feel like anything is possible. Also, find me on Yahoo Messenger.

Starting my new job at Yahoo tomorrow and I'm absolutely terrified. Wish me luck!

I got a job at Yahoo. Here's the whole story, in probably more detail than you need, including the questionnaire they made me fill out, my answers, and the nail-biting wait for an offer. Short version: it worked out, and I'm thrilled.

It works.

I got to attend a special pre-premiere screening of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, and it's brilliant. Radcliffe finally delivers, the CGI is seamless, and unlike its predecessors, this one has genuinely grown up. Go see it. Then see it again.

Four days left at my old job, and my new boss has already found this blog. Can't say where I'm going yet, but it's big and exciting. Also heading to the Popstarz reopening to pay proper respects to Simon.

The BBC used a gross photo to illustrate plans to ban drinking on trains. I'm all for the ban. Also, Bacardi won't be happy. I may need a new category just for complaining about other outlets' photo choices.

Simon Hobart built spaces where people could be themselves, find community, and lose themselves in music and joy. That's not a small thing. The man who kept Popstarz open the night after 7/7, just because people needed somewhere to go, was genuinely great. He'll be missed.

I have at least one close friend I would never have met without the internet.

I review the Sugababes' "Taller in More Ways," predicting six potential singles, and praise the band's effortless cool. Then I break down my iTunes star-rating system, from one-star duds auto-deleted from my iPod to the rare five-star classics I'll defend to the death, Britney included.

My housemates T&J are DJing at Popstarz this Friday, 2-4am. Get there, bring everyone you know!

Trinidad's PM Manning claims to know who's behind four bombings but admits he has no courtroom-worthy evidence. That's not knowing anything. Don't grandstand about "Mr Big" when you can't back it up. Embarrassing.

Saw an ad on the Piccadilly line: "New WKD Red. It's new and it's red. See what we did?" Refreshingly honest for an ad campaign. Reminds me of Matt. Also, loving my new camera.

Burberry sent me a catalog, probably because I subscribe to The Economist. Marketers assume that means I'm a wealthy executive type. I have no credit cards, no travel budget, and don't drink. Nice try.

I've got a new job! I've handed in my notice at Boltblue but can't reveal where I'm heading yet. You've got 30 days to guess. Also posted the last of my NYC photos, if you're not already tired of them.

Finally posted Days 2-4 of my NYC photos. Shorter sets, more interesting than the MoMA marathon, unless you're really into design.

Good news coming Monday. Ask me if you're curious!

Been busy today, more photos coming tomorrow.

Back in London, jet-lagged, with a dead computer. Turned out to be the power supply — fixed in 30 minutes by the local shop for an inflated price I'd happily pay again. An hour of my own jet-lagged poking around achieved nothing.

Outer Borough Day: met up with Colin in Brooklyn after a slow subway ride, wandered Prospect Park, walked Brooklyn Bridge, finished with Italian food and a village stroll. I heart New York. Huge photo set incoming when we're back.

Day 4 in NYC: manicures (for M, not me, not yet), Central Park, a $750 coat that saved me $1750, cocktails at the Ritz with Jersey City views, Mexican food, and clubbing at a smoke-filled Miss Shapes. Also spotted Carson from Queer Eye at a bar whose liquor license had just been suspended.

Visited M's grandparents in New Jersey, wandered the city, shopped more. Flag count: 204. Bush voters spotted: still zero. Tonight: clubbing.

Packed two days of classic NYC into pancakes, Soho shopping, Chinatown internet cafes, Korean-run Cajun food, Macy's splurges, Art Deco, the Empire State Building, sushi, and ice cream. Day 1 covered the Frick, MoMA, Central Park, Trump Tower, and Mexican food. We're not wasting a minute.

First morning in New York and I've already bought an iPod nano, a new camera, eaten an enormous burger, and caught short films by Daily Show writers. All since landing. Woo!

I don't drink, and I'm tired of explaining myself every time I order a lemonade. The real reason is control: losing it terrifies me. But that raises a bigger question: why does everyone else *want* to lose it? I wish I knew what made me so different.

Took my repeatedly broken iPod to the Apple Store ready for battle, armed with Sale of Goods Act printouts. Five minutes with a tired but friendly Genius later, they upgraded me from a 40GB to a 60GB colour iPod. Sometimes being calm works better than being the Loud Angry Customer.

Photos from my birthday party are up on Flickr. God, I'm 24. That sounds so old.

The birthday party was a success, leaving the house a wreck. Cleaning consumed my day. The highlight of some disobediently-brought presents: a gorgeous circa-1930 illustrated guide to London, satisfying my history, London, and book geekery simultaneously, complete with wonderful period photos and charmingly earnest advice on crossing busy streets.

Biological birthday came and went quietly with lovely messages. Saturday's the real celebration. If you have my number and haven't heard from me, something's gone wrong.

Had the flu since Saturday, missed my own birthday meal. It really, truly sucks. Being sick is boring.

A "7 things" meme: what I plan to do before I die, what I can and can't do, what attracts me to men (bonus points for CLI skills), my verbal tics, my celebrity crushes, and seven friends I'm tagging to do the same.

Saw Crash tonight. Great film with a lot to say about race in America, or really just one thing said many ways. Also: hoping my iPod gets fixed before my New York flight, annoyed by sudden heat, and convincing myself peanut M&Ms count as dinner.

Tagged with a song meme! My five current favorites span Goldfrapp to Art of Noise. My iPod is broken again, curse Apple, but I'm eyeing the new flash-memory minis in NYC. Also tagging five friends and welcoming Bob to the blogosphere.

My cooking is snowballing. I made spicy chicken goujons and realized I already had most of the ingredients -- because past recipes stocked my pantry. Good ingredients inspire more cooking, which inspires more ingredient-buying. Now I have fancy mustard and feel compelled to cook beef. Come round for dinner?

On a rainy British afternoon, it hits me: we're just interesting foam on a wet rock, hurtling through space around a giant furnace. Earth's liquid-covered existence is a cosmic fluke, and all life a thin, unlikely residue of it. We should probably remember this more often.

Lovely barbecue turned into a long, relaxed evening. Then had to "play it straight" giving Dom a lift home, which somehow left him unable to navigate his own street. His excuse: being gay. Apparently it explains most things. I'm considering trying it when my next project is late.

I explore what it means to be a geek: someone with an intense intellectual obsession, once a social outcast but increasingly cool since the dot-com era proved geeks could outearn athletes. The internet has helped us find each other. Simple rule: you're a geek if you say you are.

Autumn's here, and I can't decide if the cold weather should make me more or less paranoid about people in heavy coats on the tube. The cover it provides cuts both ways.

Working on this web2 project keeps flooding my brain with cool ideas. It's draining my notebook budget and my sleep.

The Republican party is run by jocks. Bush, Rumsfeld, Rice, Hastert -- all serious athletes. This isn't coincidence; it's culture. Jocks get their way by force, distrust intelligence and analysis, and bully those who disagree. Sound familiar? Geeks of the world, unite. We need to take our country back.

After five years in the UK, I thought I'd blended in well enough. Then I asked a colleague to use a "common letter" instead of a capital, and discovered that apparently only Trinidad still uses that term for lowercase letters. Makes me wonder what other oddities I've been casually deploying for years.

I've set up a mirror of Planet Afterlife while Will is away. Spent 45 minutes making it pixel-perfect, with slightly more entries per page and updates every 20 minutes. It'll stay up until Will returns.

Had our summer party today. Drunk coworkers are hilarious.

Rough week has left me wanting to destroy things, so Friday night I'm putting on all my spiky black gear and moshing at the Mean Fiddler. Anyone in?

Fantastic Four is a super-fun summer movie with stupid plot holes, but it's myth, so roll with it. The Human Torch was hot even before his powers. Also: a clamped car trailing sparks being chased by police, jumpy Londoners, and a message to terrorists: you've only made me late for work.

Angry, not scared, after today's failed London bombing attempts. They were amateurs compared to last time, but they still had a plan and still panicked the city. My tube link to London is down again. Retreating into Harry Potter, where the villains are clear and defeat is guaranteed.

Tired but blogging anyway. Life's good: pizza, Harry Potter, free tickets, summer walks across London. That last item on my list didn't quite work out.

Tons happened Thursday, but I'm too swamped to get into it yet.

A jarring week, capped by Thursday's tragedy, reminded me I don't have unlimited time. I want to create something lasting, not just live comfortably. Time to stop planning and start doing, now, before life proves again that it doesn't always go on.

London's dark humor is returning after the bombings, and so am I. We're coping the only way we know how: taking the piss. And to those posting "We Are Not Afraid" from Nebraska: easy to say when you're not the one who's fucking terrified.

Watching a little girl wobble on training wheels reminded me of how desperately I wanted a bike as a kid. My overprotective mom finally caved at 12. Funny how she worried so much about a bike, then handed over the car keys at 16 without a second thought.

Today's attacks hit home in the most literal sense. The bombs went off meters from my desk, on the lines I ride every morning. I finally understand what it meant to be in Madrid or New York. London is my city, my home, and today someone hurt it. I'm writing this for me.

I'm okay, but all three of my routes to work were bombed this morning. Mobile networks are down. I walked home shaken. This was real, not panic or exaggeration. Reach me at work email for now.

I took a quiz and apparently I'm Scrivs. Flattering, given how awesome 9rules is.

I've been exploring my 3,000+ unplayed iTunes songs since 2004. Here are 10 I didn't skip, from JC Chasez to No Doubt. Tagging Dan and Dom to keep the meme going.

Impromptu barbecues that spiral from Big Brother gossip into hours of evolutionary theory, Geldof, and poverty debate are exactly what I need. More of this, please.

Went to Miss-Shapes. Decent night — Sandra played Push It again (why?), but redeemed herself with Goldfrapp. Cute guy in a white shirt who could dance. Left by 1.30, before last tube. Not sure why I'm even writing this down.

A good day at work: cookies causing login loops, AND vs OR in SQL joins, and the correct terminology for Bosnian landmine incidents. Three questions, three answers. On a roll.

81% pure on a sexual purity test. Must try harder.

Took a quiz that called me a "pundit blogger." Not very scientific, but I'll take it. Meanwhile, work devolved into shouting names on IRC and a Pythagorean argument about who sits closest to whom. Diagrams were drawn. It's that kind of office.

Had a bad cold made worse by taking hayfever meds, which depress the immune system. Rookie mistake. I live and learn, frequently injuring myself along the way.

Came down with sniffles during peak pollen season and now I can't tell if it's hayfever or a cold. Also had a great evening with a friend who works with Matt Lucas, which is pretty damn cool.

Saw *As You Like It* at the Wyndham with A. Beautifully spoken Shakespeare, 1920s costumes, folk songs and big-band numbers, slapstick, and unsubtle innuendo. Theatre at its best: unpretentious, slightly silly, a little dirty, and entirely fun.

Saw Derren Brown live. Entertaining but too obviously trickery for my taste. Also my eyes went severely cross-eyed for half an hour tonight, followed by a headache from hell. If I die of a stroke tomorrow, you've been warned.

Too fried to blog, so here's my entry in Dom's MS Paint orgasm-drawing competition instead.

Swamped with stuff I can't talk about publicly. Bear with me.

Not my proudest comeback post: I used a name generator to christen my penis Darth Vader the Strangely Proportioned Liquorice Strap. Yes, really.

Exam season begins. Going full hermit mode until June 5th, deep in geek territory. Also: curtains.

I dreamed I almost had sex, but spent the whole time searching for a condom instead. When I realized mid-dream it was a dream and I'd wasted all that time on safe sex precautions, the frustration woke me up. HIV awareness campaigns have ruined even my fantasy life.

My housemates T&J are DJing at Miss-Shapes tonight, my boss just left, and I'm going clubbing on a Thursday. Currently reading Stephenson's System of the World and drinking Yazoo.

Made chicken stuffed with brie and leeks largely on my own, with only minor interventions from my housemate. It was actually pretty good, if slightly under-seasoned. Two years of weekly practice and I'm finally getting the hang of this cooking thing.

Giving up caffeine after hitting unsustainable levels -- 2 litres of Coke and 3 cups of tea in a day and still exhausted. Today was rough with withdrawal headaches on top of an already bad day at work. But it's fading. Tomorrow will be better.

Trying to cut back on socializing, but accidentally booked myself solid for the entire week ahead. Next week I'm doing nothing. Seriously. Don't invite me to anything.

Saw Star Wars. It's good. Very good. Slow start, then serious ass-whupping. Go see it. Also, apparently I'm Cheer Bear.

Picked up a movie meme baton and ran with it. Recent highlights: *The Jacket* and *Summer Storm* (gay German rowing teams, what could go wrong?). Five formative films range from *And The Band Played On* to *Gattaca*. Passing it on to Dan and Dom.

I drink an alarming amount of Yazoo. If it turns out to be bad for me, I'm done for. Worth it though.

A housewarming gift magnet from Windsor has permanently infected our household with spontaneous outbursts of "HALLO!" and "FROM WINDSOR" in terrible fake posh accents.

Went from baking brownies to being ill again. London is a germfest, I'm a weakling, or both. Not going to the gym this time. Bright spot: a generous donor gave £30 to Gay Geeks, covering a chunk of hosting costs.

A quick list of life's recent highlights: iPod everywhere, new washing machine, dinner, cuddles, good flatmates, National Theatre plays (especially the gloriously self-referential ones), tea, and sleep.

I've been neglecting the blog, but I'm back to updating the scratchpad. In other news: new washing machine tomorrow (hallelujah, three weeks without clean clothes), and vacation photos are up on Flickr.

The party was a success. Thanks to everyone who came and for the wonderful housewarming gifts, especially the sodastream. Also: Xtreme Cheddar is apparently a thing that exists.

Blogging from the dinner table. Not sure if I should be proud or ashamed.

Life is full of joy and suffering simultaneously. Don't feel guilty for laughing when others are hurting. If you can help, help. If you can't, live fully anyway. Laugh for those who can't. Savor what you have. Live harder in memory of those you've lost.

Moved into a new place, exhausted, and adulting hard. Bought a kettle today, washing machine tomorrow. Living the dream.

My brothers and I surprised our dad at his 60th birthday party by performing an extempo calypso covering his life, carrying on a family tradition he started. Here are the lyrics, in case you asked for them. You'll need to be Trinidadian to get most of the jokes.

Watching the election circus from 6,000 miles away in Bequia. Distance makes the pettiness even clearer.

Just back from the amazing Grenadines, full report coming. Also: the new Pope looks genuinely evil. Emperor Palpatine levels of evil. Lightning bolts from the fingers, people who use condoms, you know the drill.

Moblogging from a yacht in the Caribbean via GSM. Technology is incredible, and yes, it's pretty great out here.

Stuck at Gatwick for two hours, bored out of my mind and surrounded by chavs. Misery loves company.

Two weeks in Trinidad, Tobago, and the Grenadines -- a trip I've been anticipating forever. Mostly off the grid, on boats and tiny islands. Back in the UK May 1st, so save your invitations until then.

The name Donald is pretty bad.

I break down the UK election issue by issue and tally up the results: Lib Dems and Labour tie, but with similar Europe positions, Lib Dem edges ahead. Conservatives surprisingly win on crime and war, but I'm voting yellow unless the Tories look like they might actually win.

Saw *Beautiful Boxer* at the London Lesbian and Gay Film Festival. Stunning during transition, less so before or after. I'm still not sure if I wanted him or wanted to be him. Great film, but I won't be taking up kickboxing or changing sex anytime soon.

Being a web developer in 2005 fills me with smug satisfaction, wonder, and pure joy. The web is becoming mundane and everyday -- and that's a triumph. The exciting times are just beginning, and I have a proposal about how the next phase will unfold. Big dreams, but so was the Internet.

The English countryside gets far too much credit. It's just an endless patchwork of farmed fields and boggy moors, thoroughly spoiled long ago. People lamenting new housing developments should remember someone already cleared the forests. It's hardly unspoilt wilderness.

Boys suck. That is all.

Tried buying physical CDs for the first time in ages. Total disaster: wrong section, missing albums, no recommendations, one lonely listening station. How did people ever shop for music this way? I am deeply grateful to live in the age of the internet.

I took a piercing quiz and scored tongue piercing, 100%. Naughty and fun, apparently. Thanks Dom, as usual, for the cheesy quiz fix.

I love Buttoned Down Disco, where we celebrated M's birthday. Thanks to Housemate T for the tip.

I'm refreshing CNN at 11pm waiting for the Pope to die, even though I don't care when it happens. I just need the information to exist so I can have it. I'm basically a lab monkey hitting a button for brain chemicals. I should probably go to bed.

Bored of the internet. Done. Blog's closed. Enjoy the archives.

Still here, just keeping some things close to the chest. Also, four day weeks are the shizznit.

Madonna dressed as a nun, Guy as the Pope. My day is complete.

My computer Anton was overheating and crashing constantly. After trying unplugging, removing the case, vacuuming, and yelling, I finally removed the fan to find a solid dust blockage. Cleaned it out, CPU dropped 20 degrees. Lesson: maintain your hardware. Yelling does nothing.

Spent the afternoon in the park with friends discussing eugenics, scatological chocolate ads, and QE2 baked bean tins. Someone kept throwing grapes at my head. Now off to Popstarz!

Went to the gym. Worked out. Did not die. I'll take it.

Impromptu picnic in Hyde Park this Friday if the weather holds. Have my number? Grab strawberries and cream from M&S and give me a call.

Give me your top five artists or bands you're loving right now.

11,832 songs on my iPod. Most-played artist: Kasabian, so dominant they took the entire top ten. Also apparently I listen to a lot of Kelly Clarkson.

Went clubbing in Shoreditch: survived a bongo-playing sadist, a skip fire, and a venue that was essentially a drug den with a dancefloor. The music made it worth it. Barely.

A year ago I was paid by the BBC as part of a group called the "Broadcast Assassins" to discuss downloading TV content. Now Wired is crediting that group with inspiring the Doctor Who BitTorrent leak. The reporting is inaccurate, but I'll take it.

First launch of the year, first early night of the week, and the first smell of spring in the air. No coat needed. Long live summer.

Late night, no energy, and I got thoroughly schooled by Leah on my half-baked gay men post. Here's a teddy bear instead.

The Episode III trailer just blew my mind. Excuse me while I change my boxers.

Went to the dogs at Walthamstow for a friend's birthday. Thought we'd be in the posh enclosure. We weren't. Instead: frozen scampi, 1970s decor, and wall-to-wall Essex. Never again.

I weigh in on whether London lives up to its gay fantasy reputation. It's great for meeting people and building a social life, but lonely at first and expensive always. Your world is defined by your friends, not your city, and that takes effort anywhere.

Sick for two days and feeling worse, not better. Managed to get X working on Debian, which is progress, but compiling wireless drivers is a nightmare.

Worked myself sick launching a project at work, then decided to hit the gym anyway, dosed up on cold medication. Predictably collapsed on the floor in the middle of a training session, terrified my trainer, and wasted the time of several NHS paramedics. Lesson very much learned.

I spotted a woman at a bus stop who seemed ethereally beautiful against the grey city backdrop. Twenty seconds later, when she shoved past people to catch her bus, the illusion shattered. Just another fleeting city moment, probably too pretentious, but work is chaos so here you go.

Drowning in a high-stakes project that may literally kill me, and spending my remaining energy trying to get Linux running on an ancient 366MHz laptop. Ubuntu and SuSE both crapped out. Geeks, I need distro recommendations for low-spec hardware. Save me.

Low energy day, nothing worth blogging about. At least I tidied up and fixed my computer's annoying random shutdowns.

reset

My phone was off for a week due to O2 being utterly useless. Sorry for the missed texts.

Six weeks without sex has pushed me past the "looking for a life partner" phase into "shag anything that moves" territory. I've graphed it. The math is not encouraging.

My life only rates 12A, I work in ringtones instead of AI, and my biggest thrill is assembling a bedside table. Volunteers needed to fix at least one of these problems.

My life has been rated 12A. Apparently I'm unbearably tame and need to get up to something naughty right away.

Time speeds up as you get older because your brain stores memories as deltas -- differences from what you've seen before. New experiences slow perceived time; familiar ones compress it. Want life to slow down? Do something genuinely new.

I saw Closer and found it predictable and emotionally inert, despite great acting from Natalie Portman. It got me wondering: am I a film philistine who misses subtext the way others miss meaning in music? And worse, am I doing the same thing in real life?

I took another online quiz and got pegged as Gabriel, the archangel of libraries and the internet. Shocking, I know. Geek through and through, no matter the test.

Back online after 2 days without internet, thanks to my housemates' planning getting our ADSL sorted early. Still need to set up my computer properly, but I'm back!

Moved into my fabulous new house. Huge living room, a media room, trees outside, 10 minutes from Oxford Circus. I love it. No ADSL until Wednesday so blogging will be quiet -- read PlasticBag instead.

Moving to Finsbury Park. Blogging may pause briefly. Also, best line of the day: being gay is a choice the same way opening your eyes is a choice. You could keep them shut, but you'd be blind your whole life.

Won free Popstarz tickets again! Spending Friday moving house then heading out dancing regardless of how exhausted I am. Can't wait to finally find out how far Finsbury Park actually is.

Spotted a sunbeam cutting across a grey London plaza today. A whole line of people stopped to stand in it. Spring is coming.

Commenting is broken across my MovableType-hosted blogs. Fixing it requires a $100 upgrade I can't justify since I'm broke and don't even use MT myself. If six of you chip in £9 via PayPal, we're sorted. Don't be a free rider.

Had a wonderful day of wide-ranging conversation with an attractive American, covering everything from Heisenberg to Che Guevara coasters to the Iraq war, followed by a dinner party touching on blogging, valium, and FTP servers. Too tired to elaborate further.

I'm Stewie. Obviously.

A blow-by-blow of a pretty standard day: tube delays, mug theft, a near heart-attack over phantom missing thousands, Polish policeman jokes with no punchline, and an estimate with a gaping hole in it. Saved by metric tonnes of fajita.

I've been defining myself by my weaknesses and limitations to seem unique. Realizing now I don't need to do that. I am my strengths, skills, and attractions. Also, there's a ridiculously hot boy in my living room and my timing is terrible.

Planet Seldo finally has a design. Dom immediately broke it by posting 2000 giant photos, but the layout handles it gracefully. Think of it as a preview of where Seldo.Com is heading visually.

Two old website designs I never used, but kind of wish I had. The yin yang one was totally impractical at over 1000 pixels wide, but I still have a soft spot for it.

Help me pick a blog title. Also, I took the political compass test: Economic Right 4.00, Social Libertarian -6.00. My rightward drift continues.

Bars are loud, smoky, crowded hellholes with nowhere to sit. People tolerate them for cheap drinks, but I don't drink, so cheap drinks mean nothing to me. I'm done being nice about it. From now on, meet me at a cafe or a quiet restaurant, or don't meet me at all.

I'm sociable, just not in the traditional sense. I prefer communicating with people online while multitasking over aimlessly hanging out in person. My online and offline lives are fully integrated, and I barely distinguish between them. Socializing means communicating, not physically occupying the same space.

I need to start keeping a notebook by my bed for 2am ideas. Work was terrible yesterday but better today. Excited about my upcoming move, though everyone's enthusiasm for my new place makes me wonder if I'll regret leaving.

I tinker constantly, and my current project is a Java-based MSN bot that posts messages to my blog. Right now it logs on and crashes, but that's progress.

Been slacking on daily posts, but life's busy. Went to an OUT party with Moz last night, free bar plus low turnout meant everyone got very drunk. Good times. Check my linklog for that incredible VW Polo ad.

DisorderRatingParanoid:LowSchizoid:ModerateSchizotypal:HighAntisocial:HighBorderline:LowHistrionic:HighNarcissistic:Very HighAvoidant:LowDependent:LowObsessive-Compulsive:Moderate-- Personality Disorder Test - Take It! -- I'm sure no one will be surprised to learn that I "seek attention and praise" and am "self-centered". It gets quite close to the bone though: They tend to be choosy about picking friends, since they believe that not just anyone is worthy of being their friend. They tend to make good first impressions, yet have difficulty maintaining long-lasting relationships. They are generally uninterested in the feelings of others and may take advantage of them. Whoops! I didn't realise that was a common psychosis. Likewise, the schizoidal stuff sounds like me: They sometimes believe to have extra sensory ability or that unrelated events relate to them in some important way. They generally engage in eccentric behavior and have difficulty concentrating for long periods of time. Their speech...

Missed yesterday's post because I got lost building a feed manager for Planet Seldo. Redesign coming tonight. Also, "Virgins in the Valley" by Gabi and the Whoremoans is incredible; ask me for a copy.

Almost missed my daily blogging resolution! M came to cook tonight so I was off the internet all evening. Only news: I won free Popstarz entry for the one week I'm not planning to go. Anyone want to be me on Friday?

I get paid to do work I genuinely love. Life is good. Also, my old room is up for grabs and my new living situation is shaping up to be brilliant.

Saw Festen last night and found the audience's reaction to its racism more disturbing than its incest. Growing up as a white minority in Trinidad, and later passing as invisible among white Britons, I've heard what people say when they think no one who'd mind is listening. Britain's racism is hiding, not gone.

Dressed up like a trapped monkey for a black-tie family dinner, but the crystal, china, and divine cheese made it worth it. I'd sell my anti-suit principles for really good cheese, apparently. Not taking a banking job though. Also revisited Twelfth House: excellent, terrifying expensive, bi-annual treat at best.

Off to Oxfordshire for a party. Popstarz last night was fun but exhausting. Also: I'm moving to Finsbury Park on February 11th! Zone 2, baby. Poor future housemate J got hit by a flying bottle and ended up in casualty. I need sleep. Or Lucozade.

Back from a 6,000-mile trip to cold, smelly London, but at least I have broadband again. Also, calm down about Prince Harry, and apparently I'm borderline Asperger's. Please take these tests and tell me they're meaningless.

My dad and I drove to the Mayaro coast on Trinidad's east side. I learned about coconuts floating ashore from a shipwreck, saw mangroves, and discovered that Crix crackers are beloved by Trinis despite being genuinely terrible. Also: chaotic maxi taxis and my dad's obscene BMW.

More photos from my parents' place in Mayaro: endless sunshine, a hot tub with a champagne holder and an ocean view, tropical flowers, and one impressive spider clinging to the hot tub cover. Consider this your selective deterrent or reassurance, depending on whether I want you to visit.

Spending a lazy holiday day at my parents' house in Tobago's Rainbow Hill development. Showed off the stained glass, a German sculptress's "local" art, rug-covered interiors, and an infinity pool overlooking the entire tiny island. Banana trees grow absolutely everywhere.

I always assumed my geekiness came from my chemical engineer dad, but looking closer, he's the people person. Mom switched from P.E. to teaching chemistry, never met a gadget she didn't upgrade twice, and yesterday sat giggling over her new Palm Pilot. The geekiness is absolutely from her.

Blogging every day makes it easier to find things worth blogging about. With a smaller sample size, something is always relatively more interesting than everything else in the period. The more you blog, the more you blog.

I've set up Planet Seldo, a temporary replacement for the absent Planet Afterlife using the same software. It updates every 20 minutes. Let me know if you want feeds added, and if Wabson sends me his CSS I'll make it look just like the original.

Photos from the tiny islands off Trinidad's northwest tip, where I spent much of my childhood. Highlights include a former leprosy colony now swallowed by forest, Venezuela visible across the water, and swimming in bizarrely vivid green water. I also tried to improve my composition. Mostly failed.

2004 in quizmeme format: I rediscovered hard work, got an iPod, started a job I actually like, and remained broke despite secret long-term investments. Bush got re-elected, Kerry didn't win, and I had almost no sex. Much happier than last year, slightly thinner.

Committed to daily blogging even when there's nothing to report. Vacation has meant rain, Stargate marathons, and aimless channel-flipping through 500 channels. Tomorrow I'm taking a boat through a tiny archipelago. Poorly-composed photos forthcoming.

Visited the Asa Wright Nature Centre with my mom today, which was pleasant but slightly wasted on two locals who already knew everything our guide was telling the tourists. I also took some photos of Trinidad's stunning, relentless jungle. Fruit grows everywhere here without anyone even trying.

Reading "Curious Incident" for the first time. The protagonist, who has Asperger's, reminds me uncomfortably of myself. I want to make a list of people who should read it to understand their own behavior, which probably means I should be on that list. Finished it in a day. It made me cry.

I make resolutions every year but usually forget them, so this time I'm publishing them. I want to explore subjects I love but don't need for work, like comic books, architecture, and computing history. I also want to write more, targeting one blog post per day across my five blogs.

Stuck inside on vacation due to torrential rain, I'm killing time with online quizzes. Results: Nerd Cat, alternative social status, only 32% geek (I object), plus a meme about unique CDs, books, movies, and places I've visited. Productive? No. Regrets? Also no.

"Dooced" is not a word. 6,000 Google results don't make it one. "Blog" has 99 million. Let's kill this neologism before it spreads. Also, I got the flu on my tropical vacation. Karma is a jerk.

The 2004 Indian Ocean earthquake has killed 46,000 people and counting. That's 23 times the 9/11 death toll. We fuss over far smaller tragedies while the Earth casually erases entire communities. We are not lords of this planet. We are an irrelevant eyeblink between ice ages. Donate if you can.

Here are my holiday plans: London through December 30th, then tropics until January 13th. My first UK Christmas ever. People say cold weather makes it better, but warm fuzzy feelings seem easier when you're actually warm. I'll report back.

My first house party in 16 months was worth the wait: 12 Warwickers, 9 hours of drinking, 7 beers, 3 gins, 2 hook-ups, and one hell of a Christmas party. Should have done this sooner.

Winter is draining me. Short days, overcast skies, and cold weather have killed my energy and my motivation to blog. That's my excuse and I'm sticking with it.

Longfellow on architecture helped me articulate why I prefer coding to consultancy. Powerpoint is painting on the roof; the code is the cathedral.

I love my iPod because it transforms dead commuting time into music-listening and blog-reading time, boosting both my mood and productivity. The massive storage means no pre-planning what to listen to, and the interface is the best available. It has meaningfully improved my quality of life.

Saw a revived Noel Coward play this week with friends. Amusingly, we nearly walked out at the end of the second act thinking it was over. Mortified, we grabbed ice cream and returned for the actual finale, which was much better.

Been neglecting the blog, but the linklog on the right deserves your attention in the meantime. Seriously, go look at it.

Living in Tooting means enduring near-constant fireworks from October through January, as residents celebrate every conceivable holiday. I'm begging you all to consolidate into one big display so I can sleep before 3am sometime before February.

On a deserted Friday night tube ride, I spotted a beautiful crying goth and spent several agonizing stops working up the nerve to hand her a note as I stepped off. It read "Don't cry. You're beautiful." Her smile in return was worth every second of anxiety.

Watching the 2004 election results at 3:30am with Bush ahead and the key states still undecided. Heading to bed, desperately hoping America gets it right this time. Canada's weather is a strong motivator.

I saw the Scissor Sisters at Brixton Academy on Halloween and had a great time -- once I fled the crushing crowd to the back of the room. I'm just not a gig person. I need room to move, not strangers' elbows and Essex girls shoving their way to the front.

I made a music video mashing up Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow with the Prodigy's "Spitfire" -- the connection being obvious once you notice it. Probably illegal. Definitely fun.

Taking the weekend for myself.

Got my phone stolen in Leicester Square by a kid faking a disability to distract me while he lifted it off the table. I fell for the oldest tourist trap trick in the book. Lost all my contacts -- please email me your number.

I can now give anyone with a blog on my server their own subdomain (e.g. yourblogname.seldo.com). Just ask!

Sick at home, so I took a BBC personality test. Turns out I'm a "Big Thinker": outspoken, ideas-focused, tactless, and terrible at follow-through. Basically a "tactless argumentative bastard" who thinks everyone else is unimportant. Sounds about right.

Stunning visuals and Angelina Jolie in an eye patch, but it never surprised me the way I hoped it would. I'd over-hyped it to myself. Too ill with London's communal cold to say more.

Moved to a new server. Everything works. Let's blog.

Moving to a new web host this weekend. Expect a few hours of downtime, but no data loss. The new setup means way more storage and bandwidth, so feel free to upload pictures again.

London in September is effortlessly, quietly romantic. Crisp air, warm coffee, glinting cobblestones, busking jazz on the Thames. Paris gets the headlines, but London doesn't need them.

My site was down for 24 hours due to an underground fire in Baltimore. The internet is a wonderful thing. Normal service restored, no data lost. Also fixed some broken RSS permalinks.

Brilliant birthday weekend despite zero planning: Popstarz, rain-soaked picnics, tickle-fights, music snobbery, and Ghetto. Exactly what I needed. Still unsettled about something big, but at least it's crystallised now. Bring on 24.

I wrote a 13,000-word play called "Code." It's pretentious, plotless, and assumes you've read The Selfish Gene. The characters are just vehicles for ideas. Available in several formats. Tell me what you think.

Getting an iPod. Can't wait.

3,000 spam emails in a single day to one address. I've had enough.

I want my funeral to be a joyful, colourful, joke-filled singalong that brings people together. More laughter than tears. That's how I'll know I did something worthwhile.

Been too busy living life to blog about it. Good weekend though: Popstarz with friends, a Green Park picnic, and The Bourne Supremacy (dull). Also added a music log to the site so you can judge my taste in shit.

Never forget.

I've been obsessing over this boyband cover of Def Leppard's "Pour Some Sugar on Me." It's either brilliantly layered parody -- hairbands inside boybands inside a TV set, Beatles costumes and Hey Mickey references -- or it's just terrible. I've watched it three times and still can't decide. Neither can you, now.

I took that relationship personality test everyone's doing. Apparently I'm a "Love Geek" - weirdly sexy, calm under conflict, don't date casually, would make an excellent parent. Nailed it on most counts. Only 4% of respondents share my type.

Selling my Wacom graphics tablet on eBay. Upgrading to a better one for my birthday.

A great weekend of dancing at Popstarz, where I attract exclusively straight female admirers despite being in a gay club. Also, my family visited: lovely people, but together they still treat me like the baby of the family, and nothing I say gets taken seriously. Twenty-two years old and counting.

Life's hectic but good. Parents are in town, work is crazy, and I'll be at Noise tonight. Come say hi!

Got into a homophobic confrontation on the night bus home from Popstarz. Four thugs hogging seats, making slurs. I switched seats to help a friend, got physically shoved off. Then, stupidly, mouthed off as I left the bus. Did I bring it on myself? Partly. But I refuse to apologize for existing.

Had an amazing weekend on a boat with 450 gay men, a 4am breakfast, and loads of new friends. Too tired to blog properly, so here are some quiz results instead.

I took a personality quiz and got "White House Staffer." The first paragraph rings true, but cool under pressure? Anyone who knew me last year would laugh. I'm a procrastinator who can't say no. At least I'd make a decent subordinate, if only good managers existed.

Nobody knows where they're going -- not me, not anyone. We're all frightened animals making it up as we go. The trick is to just try things: plug in the box, go to the party, take the job. One of them might become your thing. Start walking.

Been busy with work and comics, so here are some links: evil giraffes, Cory Doctorow on DRM, a quiz about strong black women, a map of queer America, and the troubling anti-Muslim backlash following recent beheadings.

I took a quiz. I'm Raver Bear. Nobody's shocked.

Links worth your time: a hot guy, UK internet censorship that's making me furious, Sainsbury's scripted small talk, improving gay rights, armed Swiss men near the Pope, a gadget I covet, the war on terror meets DRM, terrifying butter dogs, and breakup stories that make me feel better about myself.

A countdown meme borrowed from Matt. My live music history is embarrassing (Steps, Vengaboys, Geri Halliwell) so I'm motivated to do better. New job tomorrow, summer plans looking good, still haven't finished my personal projects, and Mr. Right remains at large.

Been using AudioScrobbler to track my listening habits. Jellyfish dominates everything, all ten of my top songs are theirs. Also loving JC Chasez's underrated album and Alanis's return to form. I'm getting more into music than ever, and I'm not sure why.

A roundup of random links: nuclear war statistics, another Microsoft obituary, Troy's cinematic merits despite historical liberties, the inevitable Chucky sequel, an 11-year-old fashion activist who can't spell, my worryingly high mobile phone addiction score, and some deeply silly internet ephemera.

London's Oyster card is convenient, cheap, and a badge of true Londoner status. But my favorite perk? Overland rail guards can't read them, so a confident wave gets you a free ride. God bless you, Oyster.

Inspired by a friend posting old photos, I'm sharing an embarrassing collage of myself at 16. My hair was ridiculous then and remains ridiculous now. Also, yes, I dressed as Neo for Halloween. The Matrix had just come out. Don't judge me.

My advice to someone struggling to meet gay people: skip the clubs, which mostly attract shallow party types. Instead, meet lots of people you genuinely like through friends and random events, then find the gay ones among them. Though I've met my own boyfriends online, my single status suggests I should follow my own advice.

I've got a new job at boltblue, starting 8th June! I was miserable at my last place and very glad to be leaving. Buy some ringtones and logos from my new employer. Go on.

Growing up in Trinidad, I never realized how special its diversity was. Two major races, dozens of religions, yet remarkable harmony. That upbringing made racial and religious equality feel self-evident, not politically correct. I was lucky, even if our tolerance hasn't yet extended to sexuality.

Manic week: saw the brilliant Ben Wishaw in Hamlet, attended the London blogger meetup, finally stalked Tom in person, caught a glimpse of Cory Doctorow, and watched Eternal Sunshine. Also something mysterious happened Monday. More soon, maybe.

Rumsfeld's out. Good riddance.

The "alarm" character in modern computing descends directly from a literal bell on old line printers. Today it still bypasses everything and makes your computer beep. Thirty years of technological evolution, ignored completely. I find that wonderful.

Got my DVD copy of Camp this morning. Awwww yeah.

Stalkervision is back. Catch me on webcam from 7-12pm GMT, when I'm not at work, naked, or sleeping. Yeah, that's a narrower window than it sounds.

I answer reader questions: my first crush (a Chemistry classmate who helped me realize I was gay), whether I'd streak Trafalgar Square ($30k might convince me), why I'd never move back to Trinidad, my proudest teenage moment, and what motivates me. Spoiler: fantasies of cheering crowds.

Lovely weekend with friends down from Warwick: Popstarz (possibly spiked drink), Empire Records fan edition (actually improved by the extra footage), Kill Bill Vol. 2, a barbecue, banter, Twister on my new duvet cover, and Smallville. Good times.

Joining the "ask me anything" meme: leave 3 questions in the comments along with your blog URL, and I'll answer them in a future post. Also, welcome Danny to the blogosphere, where he's already mastering the art of the overshare.

Currently loving Jellyfish's Spilt Milk (get it now), Scissor Sisters, Outkast's double album, Dido's surprisingly strong ballads, George Michael's Patience, and Maroon 5's bitter, Jamiroquai-ish sound. Albums worth your time, not just catchy singles.

A song of gratitude to the people who challenged me, humbled me, and helped me find myself. I came in thinking I knew everything. I didn't. Thanks to them, I still don't know who I'll be, but at least I know who I am.

Been obsessed with OKCupid for days along with Mikey and Dan. Go check it out, it's great!

I took the OK Cupid personality test and got four possible results depending on how I answered ambiguous questions. Am I spontaneous or planned? Romantic or horny? I genuinely don't know, so I'm putting it to a vote. People who know me better get more say.

I'm debating whether casual sex is more "pointless" than traditional dating. Both approaches carry the same risk of wasted time and incompatibility. Good men are rare; running jokes with friends aren't. A one-night stand can become a relationship just as easily as coffee dates can go nowhere.

After four years alternating between sex-first and getting-to-know-you approaches, I'm still single with nothing lasting past three months. Neither method wins. Sexual and emotional compatibility both matter, and whichever way you narrow down candidates, you'll waste time on the incompatible ones.

Took an Empire Records quiz (I'm Lucas, appropriately enough), got distracted by Moore's War President image, felt genuinely guilty about Iraq, and fell down a rabbit hole of random LiveJournal photos. The internet is vast, weird, and occasionally moving.

Reluctantly propagating a meme forced on me by T, I answer questions about nearby books, wall decorations (including a stunning Russian communist banner), dreams of white-rap stardom, and Jerusalem. My room's walls alone took forever to catalogue. Now off to a picnic.

Lance Arthur's writing about being closeted and a late bloomer resonates deeply with me. I identify with all of it: the fake persona built from fear, the late puberty, the long showers. Turned out okay in the end. No grand conclusion here, just a tired nod of recognition.

I took some personality tests. Myers-Briggs calls me ENTP, though I hover right on the E/I and P/J axes and get different results each time. The Enneagram warns me against a "sad and shallow life" by cultivating internal values. Charming. High marks for image awareness and detachment seem about right.

My friend Jamie started a blog. Also, disk space issues are temporarily fixed so upload away. Oh, and that leaked Catwoman trailer confirms the movie looks terrible. Michelle Pfeiffer was way sexier. Also I may be dreaming right now.

My blog turns three today. Rather than pretend you care, here's a self-indulgent timeline of my greatest hits anyway, from my first post in 2001 through politics, poetry, crushes, and controversies. Frequency of interesting posts seems to be increasing. Whether that's perspective or improvement, you decide.

Caught *200 American* at the London Lesbian and Gay Film Festival on standbys -- best seats in the house. Between that, a perfect steak, *Starsky and Hutch*, and clubbing at Popstarz, another unplanned but brilliant London week. The audience was 497 gay men and 3 women. That poster was doing its job.

Been exploring design sites and RSS readers. Got a good laugh from a Google rebrand showing "Britney Spears" as a search query, captioned "the sum of all human knowledge at your fingertips." Also rewatching Daria, which holds up.

Little things that make me smile: compliments on my dancing, freedom to dress how I like, discovering new bloggers, music videos, London at 4am, rare tube conversations, surprising people with my music taste, my camera phone, guilt-free cute-guy spotting, and forgotten songs resurfacing on shuffle.

Posting 20 random songs from my MP3 collection to dilute the embarrassing ones. Highlights include Kelis, Queen, and Fiona Apple. Lowlights? Phil Collins, Bon Jovi, and Gareth Gates. At least Magnetic Fields saved some credibility. Britney? Totally unapologetic.

I outed a fellow blogger's Gaydar profile by Googling his domain name. The fetish list is pretty funny. He doesn't seem too bothered, though he claims his tastes have evolved since posting it. Lesson learned: you can't hide anything from Google.

Went to Meta 9 (good but sweaty) and tried Body Jam, a dance aerobics class full of women and three gay men including me. Nearly killed myself, can barely move, kept going the wrong direction, and I'm absolutely going back next week.

Going to Meta 9 on Friday and needed a floor to crash on. Found one. Crisis averted.

Took some online quizzes. The book quiz said I was David Copperfield, which felt wrong. The country quiz said I'm Chile: skinny, bumpy, fighting for justice. That one felt right.

Working on a new Art Deco front page design. It's more refined than previous sketches, wastes less space, and shows comments inline. Still very baroque, with some fun rotating decorative elements I'm calling "bedknobs." Worried it looks too much like every other MovableType blog out there.

I'm redesigning the site with art deco aesthetics, better content organization (splitting the blog into "Linkage" and "Thinkage"), and modern code. I've been sketching layouts but can't settle on one. Here are my doodles. Tell me what you think.

Took a left brain/right brain test and it nailed me: overly methodical, paralyzed by options, constantly trying to categorize everything. Apparently I'm best suited to be a scientist or design consultant. Now if only it told me how to actually fix these tendencies.

Stunning artwork on DeviantART. Go look at it now.

Made myself a South Park character, but went fun over realistic. You can make your own too.

I admit I judge straight people unfairly, mentally recategorizing friends I love as "not really straight" because I can't reconcile my affection for them with my distrust of their group. My heterophobia isn't rational or right, but it's where unprocessed pain goes. Sorry, breeders.

I get all my movie news from Apple's trailer site. Trailer editing is an unsung art form, and judging by how entertaining even the obvious bombs are, my attention span may be shot. Here are my five-words-or-less reviews of upcoming releases, based solely on their trailers.

I took a quiz and apparently I'm an Intellectual. Which America-hating minority are you?

My hosting company had a server meltdown and lost data with no warning. Most blogs I host survived intact, but mynciboi lost recent pictures. Not my fault! Here's the current list of MT blogs I'm hosting.

Spent 36+ hours with Richard this weekend and it was wonderful. That's all I'll say about that. Also did absolutely nothing else, and I'm completely fine with it.

Being called lovely by a lovely boy makes me feel like a swooning Georgian lady. Third date Friday. You can read his blog yourselves now, so I'll just say he's much sunnier in person than his online complaints might suggest.

Met someone. It went well. Really well. Check back in seven days.

I took a presidential match quiz and apparently Al Sharpton represents my views perfectly. I'm a crazy liberal, it seems. Kerry frequently tops the list when I adjust my answers, but I can't bring myself to support Dean regardless.

I've helped another Trinidadian school friend, Colin, start a blog. Three days in and he's already covering all the bases. Meanwhile, I'm barely blogging myself lately. Still alive, just swamped.

A fun weekend with Mikey yields scattered observations: Popstarz good, O'Neill's not Irish, Tate Britain Turner-heavy but decent, Lord of the Rings would be shorter with mobile phones, Paycheck entertaining, London movie prices absurd, and Mary lives impossibly far from Central London.

I made a mistake at work and I own it. But being yelled at helps no one. Blame kills motivation, breeds resentment, and poisons team culture. Talk to me, help me learn from it, and we'll both be better off.

I'm a gay man who finds locker room nudity baffling and unpleasant. Straight guys shrug it off as "just guys," but that logic doesn't work for me. Why is public nudity suddenly acceptable the moment you enter a changing room? Scrotums are not attractive. Put them away.

Just back from a few days on a tiny island off Trinidad, where the hills crash into the sea and sunsets turn everything into silhouettes against an impossible sky. It's the kind of beauty that makes you wax poetic and slightly embarrass yourself. Worth every cramped flight home.

Attempting to quit caffeine cold turkey while on vacation in the tropics. Withdrawal headaches are real and brutal. Possibly having more creative days already, hands seem steadier. Bodies are chemical factories worth optimizing. Happy to add caffeine to my growing list of drugs I'm better off without.

Taking my annual family trip to Trinidad and Tobago. Three days in Tobago with no internet, but I got a tan and watched sunsets so gorgeous they look fake. Still alive, just not posting anything meaningful for a while.

Vacation countdown to Trinidad sunshine, plus links: Hitler vs. Bob the Angry Flower, global dimming, gay romance comics, the gorgeous Sky Captain trailer, cheap web hosting, and IT graduates still royally screwed.

Every piece of art I encounter fills me with jealous rage that others created what I could not. My mission, above all else, is to create. I'll produce mountains of dross in every medium until I find the diamond buried within. I will create something that outlasts me.

Got a scanner so I can start saving my meeting doodles. They're getting elaborate and I can't bear to lose them. This one's not great, but my first blog post sucked too. Gotta start somewhere.

Been ill and binge-reading Something Positive, a webcomic with geek, gay and random humour. Most importantly, it has Choo-Choo Bear the polymorphic chemo-cat. Highly recommended.

Sick with a cold, so here's a raw link dump: BBC was least impartial on Iraq war coverage, a cool snowflake builder, Peter Jackson confirmed for The Hobbit, Defective Yeti's packing peanut baby quote, and my Smallville fixation that's definitely not about Lex and Clark's tension.

My friends Ed and Raymond have an ongoing NYC vs. Boston rivalry. Their latest email exchange did not disappoint.

Yesterday I was ready to write off love as a glorified mating instinct dressed in rationalizations. Then I saw Love Actually and got sappy. The perfect guy already happened to me and I blew it. So: love is bullshit, love is glorious, and I want it desperately anyway.

I gave my friend Mikey a blog whether he wanted one or not. Anyone want to help with his CSS?

Jonathan Brandis killed himself, and it bummed me out more than I expected. I'd forgotten he existed until I saw the headline, and I'll probably forget again by tomorrow. Which honestly makes it sadder and more pointless than if I'd just missed him all along.

Christmas is a scam. The food, the gifts, the family bonding, the religious angle, the music -- all bullshit. Only small children enjoy it, and that's pure greed. I love it anyway, because it's gloriously camp and I get to visit my family somewhere warm.

I spent all weekend (Friday 8pm to Sunday 10pm, 10 hours sleep total) building a site full of circles I had to cut and paste manually. Never again. Also: Britney's new album is elevator music, Madonna showed her up, and my love life is exactly as empty as this post suggests.

Helped Carly and Dan get their blogs set up on MovableType.

Today's a great day: Massachusetts just struck a blow for marriage equality, and I'm done with euphemisms. He's my husband. Not my partner. My husband. Also, Henry VIII's church probably shouldn't lecture anyone about traditional marriage.

Random thoughts: the Church of England being non-bigoted about sexuality deserves grudging credit; Lemon Jelly's Pushy is worth downloading; cops can't say "what can I do you for?"; and I keep failing at my one-day streak of self-improvement.

Got backed up waiting on a site update that got delayed, so here's a week's worth of posts all at once. Sorry!

Late to post this Friday Five, answering each question with increasing adjectives: my room is big, my coworkers are talented but annoying, web development is creative and amazing, my days are sleepy to engaged, and my ideal life ends with fame, Ian McKellan-style.

I've had it with people making racist comments and then hiding behind "it's just an observation." My rule: would you say it if the group you're discussing was in the room? Silence implies acceptance, so I'll keep calling it out. Consider me black, Jewish, Pakistani, whatever it takes.

A brain dump of half-formed thoughts: UI is the only problem that matters, the internet isn't evil, Wal-Mart is, apples and oranges are totally comparable, and someone please remind me to download the Postal Service.

Maybe blogs aren't journalism but a new kind of social performance: "here I am, do you like me?" If so, I'm doing mine wrong.

I can only love him from a distance. When we're close, I lose sight of what matters; when we're apart, it's all I can see. I've proven myself wrong again and again, and I keep making the same mistake. I am the worst person in the world.

Boy Meets Boy is now in colour for a month of Foxman comics, which means more sexy gay Asian anime-esque characters. Also, I rediscovered an old post of mine that I remember feeling desperately urgent about at the time.

Fingers crossed for this thing to work.

Steve's got a bold new look. Kinky, but sexy.

Lost my coat to a pickpocket who somehow took it from right beside me, but inexplicably left my bag full of valuables. They even stole my passport photo name label but not the bag itself. I really liked that coat.

I got Jean-Luc Picard in a sci-fi character quiz. His associated quote about censorship and freedom feels deeply true to me, and I'm curious about its origins -- attributed to Picard, who quotes a fictional judge. Why do geeks find this sentiment so self-evident? More on that later.

Had a vivid dream about accidentally throwing a free bar for all of Oxford Street. Saturday was great: coffee with friends, a genuinely stunning Tate exhibition where strangers spontaneously made art in a giant ceiling mirror, Mystic River (well-acted but pointless), and a random night ending with a warm wait for buses.

I'm fighting with someone through blog posts, which is absurd. I'm worried sick about you, and that's not condescension. "Okay" isn't "happy." And being made to feel wrong for wanting to help, while being kept in the dark, is maddening. Fuck this medium.

A modified version of Gabrielle's "Out of Reach" about heartbreak, confusion, and slowly moving on from a love that was never meant to be.

A poem about being stuck in an uncertain relationship, torn between staying and leaving, wanting more but unsure if I'm even wanted. Hot and cold signals, growing attachment despite the imperfect match. I can't explain it, but I can't quite let go either.

Sometimes I step back and think: I'm literally making my brain run in a machine. Five terminals, 24 emacs buffers, four languages, and it all works. Coding is weird and wonderful and I love it. Am I alone in occasionally thinking "wow, this is so cool"?

Dave's response to my point about sand being plentiful had me in stitches. Sometimes housemate conversations go places you don't expect.

It's Gay Sex Week (Oct 12-18) and I'm desperately hoping someone organizes a fundraiser just to watch CNN cover it. Also, my recent posts are giving Google some unfortunate ideas about me. I write sappy poetry, I promise.

Got 2000 hits in 24 hours after Google indexed me. Meanwhile, the story I've been covering keeps shifting -- alibis emerging, witness accounts contradicting the girl's version, and she apparently had breakfast with them after. Not speculating further; I'm already in enough trouble.

I really want you to change your name.

The long-term benefits of sunscreen are now in doubt, so it's no longer the one tip I'd offer for the future. It's now about as reliable as any other advice I might give.

I've rediscovered my love for Jeff Vogel's writing about his daughter Cordelia, now a toddler. His parenting philosophy? Skip shielding her from swear words and instead teach her to deploy them with maximum effectiveness. Highly recommended reading.

Caught a Robbie Williams lyric on my way out that perfectly captures how I've been feeling lately. Also, it's International Talk Like a Pirate Day. Arrr.

Had a great birthday barbecue, even if the food was more cremated than cooked. Thanks to everyone who came and survived on garlic bread and crisps, and to Tobes for rescuing the barbecue!

My blog has gotten embarrassingly boring lately. I blogged my lunch twice. Time to browse more, think more, and stop the pedestrian cat-blogging nonsense.

Tried three things at Pret today. The mozzarella sandwich was bland, the "cranberry" cola is mostly grape juice despite the wholesome marketing, and the lemon cake is probably not handmade but decent enough to order again.

Connecting remotely to your work machine just to play The Sims on your lunch break is not something a responsible employee does. Very bad idea.

I'm a below-average snooze-button hitter, and proud of it. I also tried a body-clock wake-up trick and it actually worked. Yes, I blogged about waking up. At least I'm not blogging about my cat.

I'm reviewing every product at the Pret a Manger near me. First up: a surprisingly good prawn sandwich, an excellent yoghurt granola fruit bowl, and a Coke. More to come.

Slow day at work, so I cleared my massive blog backlog. Highlights: artificial diamonds disrupting De Beers, doctor secret slang, Russia building a Mars nuclear plant, giant gerbils devastating China, and the world's most unsettling fluffy rabbits. Plus 20-odd other links. Productive afternoon, really.

I'm writing Perl again after a long absence, and it's going about as well as expected: forgetting syntax, hunting phantom bugs that turn out to be typos, and getting caught by my boss with a commented-out critical line. Pure entertainment.

My street seems custom-built to remind me of people I know, from Topman (Matt) to Phool (eDan). Both brothers work here too. Also: MIT courses are now free online, and you can train as a BBC journalist. Now I really should do some actual work.

I'm a giant ant monster who breathes poisonous gas, apparently. Also, OJ Simpson sees parallels between his case and Scott Peterson's. Gee, I wonder why, OJ.

PHP 5 brings private functions and sensible inheritance, making OO development much nicer. I'm also building a Word-compatible report generator from scratch, working near Regent's Park, enjoying free cola and wireless networking, and slowly adjusting to London life, emacs, and the tube.

A virtual server running a screen saver. First day observations.

Just back from Edinburgh (fun) and After Dark (awful), but too hot to think straight. Moving tomorrow to a broadband-free zone, so updates will be sporadic until I wrestle ADSL out of BT. Ciao for now.

I linked to Rik. Then I hit the Edinburgh Festival: "Finding Bin Laden" was funny and surprisingly thoughtful (***), Newsrevue 2003 was sharp liberal musical comedy at its best (****), and the Late Night Laughter Lounge was a disaster held in a converted toilet. Avoid it.

Visiting Evil Dan in Edinburgh and his PC is drowning in adware and spyware. Use Spybot Search and Destroy to clean that crap up.

Doing the Friday Five this week on morning routines, even though the questions aren't great. I wake up around 9am, sleep in until 2pm on weekends, and immediately turn on my computer. Starting work again in 9 days. Breakfast out in London? I'd go broke.

Matt's got a new website. Go check it out.

After way too much stress, I've found a place in Tooting Bec: a big ground-floor room in a quiet cul-de-sac, shared with friendly guys my age. Moving in this weekend. Edinburgh next week. Anyone able to put me up for a few days?

Joined Friendster and finally discovered MoveFlat.com for London flatshares. Loot has been useless lately because everyone migrated there. Still searching for both a flat and cute single gay men.

Finding a flatshare and finding a boyfriend are basically the same problem. I keep second-guessing myself, holding out for better options until the good ones disappear. The best ones never even make it to market. If I can solve one, maybe I can solve the other.

Been neglecting this blog while focusing on GayGeeks. Managing multiple blogs is tough!

Back after two weeks offline due to a broken PHP script, ironically timed with my new PHP job. Now I'm flat-hunting in a sweltering London, sweating through viewings of overpriced, cramped flats. I want Zone 2, near a tube, with a living room and minimal murder. Apparently £500 won't cut it.

I moved to London, went job hunting, and almost immediately landed my perfect gig: PHP/SQL dev work in central London with great people and a solid salary. Starting August 11th. Now I just need to figure out where to live before my overdraft kills me.

Finished my degree at Warwick with a 2.1. The fear is gone. Relief. Joy. Breathe.

Blame Steve, it was all his idea. Jamie and Carly have also jumped on the bandwagon. If the feed borks after a while just press refresh and it'll start again :-) (There is also a no-frills version if you have a tiny monitor. If you're quite sad, you may wish to use popup stalkervision which updates faster but needs a faster connection)

Visited London for a joint birthday party, and now face the Big Week: last performances, final results, goodbye meals, and on Saturday, the end of my university career. Also managed to leave my luggage on a train. Aaargh.

I should really know better.

It's crisis season as university ends and the Rest of Our Lives looms. Everyone's questioning who they are and what comes next. Things aren't as bad as they seem, though. Sending a big communal hug to all. Also: knowing people who know things is almost as good as knowing things yourself.

I've spent years hiding behind "Seldo," a persona I built at 15 to escape being bullied, closeted, miserable Laurie. It worked brilliantly. Now I'm exhausted by my own invention. I want to stop collecting admirers and start earning understanding. Time to let Laurie grow up.

Shoutout to John at Rainbow Villa, a nearly-20 semi-closeted gay boi whose writing reminds me of my younger self. He was complaining nobody links to him, so here you go, kid.

Crash was a three-hour musical orgasm that more than made up for Rainbows' disappointment. Perfect crowd density, great music, great company, and someone actually dragged me onto the dancefloor. School-dayz sounds terrible though. I'd rather drill through my eye and fill it with chilli powder than relive school.

Spent five hours lounging on the lawn with friends, junk food, and cherry coke. Now sunburned to a crisp and heading out for indie music. Worth it.

Answering the Friday Five: I want to find the perfect boyfriend, I'm brutally honest about haircuts, I once lost a friend who turned out to be a pathological liar, I'd live in the X-men universe to meet Iceman, and I wish I could sing.

Finished with school, and I couldn't be happier about it. Screw the educational establishment! (Except Edinburgh's Informatics Department. Please call me.)

Taking my last ever exam in just over an hour. Not scared at all. Also, stumbling across record UK unemployment figures this morning was not ideal timing.

Backlog of links including Tropico addiction, post-natal abortion satire, the many things named Voss, a comedic internet history, depleted ocean fish, pervy hobbit diaries, lipograms, Lovecraft, stickman battles, and more. Still drowning in links. I love the web.

Four exams down, one easy French one to go. I'm back, redesigning the site and dumping my massive backlog of links on you, 10 a day. Job hunting too. Hundreds more links where these came from.

Exams are here, so I'm shutting down the blog for real this time. No more updates until they're over. Hopefully I'll be back with good news.

A poem of memories, tender and honest, the good and the hard, leading back to one truth: you have always loved me, and I am sorry I ever forgot.

Are you Addicted to the Internet? 68% Hardcore Junkie (61% - 80%)While you do get a bit of sleep every night and sometimes leave the house, you spend as much time as you can online. You usually have a browser, chat clients, server consoles, and your email on auto check open at all times. Phone? What's that? You plan your social events by contacting your friends online. Just be careful you don't get a repetitive wrist injury... The Are you Addicted to the Internet? Quiz at Stvlive.com! ...saved only by the fact that I have more friends in real life than online.

Creme eggs should be sold in six-packs year-round. I'm just sayin'.

Going offline to finish a report under deadline panic. Also, I'm now an ordained minister of the Universal Life Church (free, three minutes online) which should come in handy for pestering Christians.

Google knows too much about me. Searching my name with friends' names pulls up surprisingly accurate photos of them. Oddly, Mikey keeps appearing alongside my romantic interests. I also tried "Seldo next" to predict my future entanglements. The results were alarming. Watch out, boys.

Feeling isolated. Someone take me to lunch.

Generated my blogger code and used it to blog about a meme asking how often I blog about memes. Meta enough to make my head explode. Also cross-posted to Gay Geeks, which surely earns bonus points.

I made a Boy Meets Boy tribute desktop background. Yes, I'm bored. Yes, I like that comic way too much.

Took a week off on the south coast, came back to a virus that trashed Windows XP and all my install files. Leaving a breadcrumb for my future self: SK 1301 keyboard drivers are at Netropa. Use the SK 1300 ones for XP. Yes, I know you don't care.

Last night I dreamed I was back in secondary school taking an English test, until it took a sharp turn into existential weirdness. I recreated the question as accurately as I could. I suspect it's asking for the meaning of life, but please, no smart-ass answers.

Massive link dump covering everything from RSS search engines and Google's brand anxiety to sea lion soldiers, Shar-Peis, ties as sexist oppression, and Terminator 3. Consider it a window into my chaotic, easily distracted brain. You're welcome, you link-hungry fiends.

Moz plugged Gay Geeks, so I'm returning the favor by pointing to his new site, Meaningless Artichoke. Also: Congress renamed french fries "freedom fries," which is either hilarious or terrifying. At least we haven't declared actual war on France. Yet.

Went full blue for Metamorphosis 8: hair, makeup, the works. Danced on an 8-foot podium, had the stage cleared for us, and Rik's set was phenomenal. Every penny and lost work hour was worth it.

100 things about me, because everyone else was doing it and I couldn't resist. I blew the "short" requirement completely. Covers everything from being Trinidadian and gay to my Nightcrawler fixation, my terrible eating habits, and why I go by Seldo.

A grab-bag of links: the Atkins controversy (spoiler: Americans just eat too much), a political compass test that confirmed my lib-dem leanings, Fred Durst's questionable Britney claims, my finished AI essay, and a new OLED camera that oddly connects back to my very first blog post.

The Glitter Ball 2003 was a smashing success, largely because my friends are incredible. Shoutout to Will Abson for the video he doesn't yet know I have. Trinidad folks: the people in it are Bob, Kim, Moz, James, Matt, and Danny.

This blog is turning into a superset of my other two. Highlights: a Hand Puppet Movie Theatre parody of Lord of the Rings where everyone's gay, and BBC Radio 1 Xtra broadcasting from Trinidad Carnival, so I can stream it and not totally miss out this year.

Being geeky and gay means double the teasing, but also double the resilience. I'd share my own coming-out story but don't have time to do it justice. Short version: all-male school, no friends, and I never even told my mom. Happy birthday, mom.

My design process involves writing out my train of thought to compensate for poor short-term memory, otherwise I loop endlessly. The result reads like a schizophrenic arguing with himself. I used indentation to mark tangents, which proved genuinely useful.

A collection of out-of-context quotes for the amusement of myself and about three other people. You probably had to be there.

A few Valentine's Day distractions while I procrastinate on coding: cook a sock, calculate your love match, and play Frogger with sheep. Priorities.

I've finally finished my short story "Spree" and it's available in PDF, Word, text, and OpenOffice formats. Give it a read and let me know what you think. (Update: apparently the ending still sucks. Bah.)

A poem I wrote, parked here until the poetry section is fixed. About happiness, fear of losing it, mortality, and wanting to stay in this moment forever.

Strangers in a car applauded me walking home from a cheesy pop night at the students' union. 60p drinks, five minutes from my house, and spontaneous applause from passing cars. I'm never leaving.

I want to bring "quidnunc" into common usage as slang for a busybody gossip. Also, Network Rail's excuse for their anti-freeze heaters failing was that they froze. Yes, really.

Back at Warwick and completely overwhelmed with work. Send help.

Wishing everyone a happy new year as the wave of drunkenness rolls across time zones. I'll be sober, watching the chaos unfold with amusement.

Just back from Tobago, hopelessly behind on work. Quiet Christmas -- got luggage, no iBook (thanks Mom and Dad). First Christmas without my brothers, which felt strange. Also, read Spree and tell me what you think.

Spent the morning sleeping in, eating well, and soaking in a hot tub on the roof. I'm on vacation and it's glorious. Also spent too much time thinking about a Christina Aguilera video, of all things, and getting weirdly emotional about it. Don't judge me.

I've written a new play called Spree, aimed at Freshblood theatre after they liked but couldn't cast my last one. It's flexible: six characters, easily gender-swapped, two potentially doubled up. A deliberate improvement on Silly Things. It's a draft, so please send me your notes.

Posting from Trinidad with a few links worth sharing: a C/C++ garbage collector, Get Your War On skewering war criminals in the Bush administration, 419 scammer baiters, a friend making notable Trinidadian lists, and reindeer spontaneously combusting before kindergartners. Holiday cheer!

Just arrived in Trinidad. Sun, ocean views, and a tan in progress. I'm insufferably smug about it.

Heading to Trinidad and thrilled about it. Cold, grey, and dark at 3pm here, so burning MP3 CDs instead of catching my train. Priorities.

Last Monday of term, sitting at Moz's computer waiting for dinner, with Kim and Matt en route. Top B tonight should be great, or I'm just bored and hungry. Probably both.

My Christmas checklist: no humming carols, yes to gifts and tinsel and stuffing my face. No fake family bonhomie, no snow (I'll be in the tropics), no holiday charity guilt trips, no special appreciation of loved ones I already appreciate year-round. Christmas is just a good excuse for things I'd do anyway.

Repeatedly woken at dawn by a fire alarm. Missed my first lecture. I need sleep.

A sexy picture that doubles as a spot-the-duplicate puzzle. One person appears 4 times, two appear 3 times, five appear twice. I made it as a poster for my room. It got out of hand. Answers available if you can't figure it out yourself.

Fog is strange and beautiful: it turns the world into a hushed horror film, wraps everything in golden haze, and makes lakes into perfect mirrors. Walking through it, I feel like I'm collecting the moisture myself, leaving a tunnel of dry air behind me.

Love the Economist, which dad kindly gifted me. This week's cover is a Kubrick-worthy image that works on every level, and the writing remains as wryly irreverent as ever.

Campus life is as baffling as ever: the swamp-like grounds, the brazen milk thief who ignored my clearly labeled 4-pint bottle to steal from a smaller one marked off-limits, and the dedicated potheads doing laps at 3am in the cold. Wouldn't trade it.

Four years ago I came out, and with my sexuality came everything else I'd been suppressing: the twirly wrists, the giggling, the dancing. I'm not proud of being gay specifically, but I'm proud of finally being myself. And four years ago, I couldn't have said that.

Awarding BBC News Online for their hilariously dramatic mouse and keyboard photo. What happens when you hire too many arts students. Also, yeah, internet addiction at work is real. I spent 6 of my 10 weeks at IBM this summer surfing the web.

I found the cute geek from Apple's Switch ads. His name is Jeremiah Cohick, and I'm convinced he's gay. He emailed to deny it, but I'm skeptical. Awkwardly, he may still be reading this.

Mocking CNN's DC sniper coverage for fanning panic, celebrating a wild Birmingham clubbing weekend including an impromptu wet t-shirt competition, and puzzling over a Macromedia knockoff site and bizarre Iraqi protest footage.

Mind uploading to silicon by 2040? I am ALL IN. Can't wait to ditch this body. Also: groan at that link. Short post today to balance out yesterday's epic. Karma.

On the dancefloor I feel free, until I catch myself from above and see it for what it is: desperate plumage, bright feathers flashing. I want to be left alone. I want you to fight for me. I don't know why I make it so hard.

My building's fire alarm kept going off all morning, starting at 5:30am in freezing temperatures. Turns out a sensor is faulty. FFS.

Tuesday's post got complaints. MAC and Revlon are funding beauty parlours in Afghanistan to boost women's self-esteem, which is... something. Also, Radio Warwick DJs accidentally broadcast a personal mobile number and their SMS machine password on air. Brilliant radio.

My tooth is killing me. Also: rotten.com is disturbing, UBS Warburg convinced me investment banking is morally bankrupt (they charge people to hide stock ownership, then charge others to reveal it), the weather is awful, and I'm trying out WinMX.

I have a throbbing dental abscess and 48 hours of agony ahead. The filling that caused it was done in Trinidad, which means no malpractice recourse, and I'll have to go back there for the root canal because at least it's cheap. On the bright side, French class is fun. Ow.

Sick with a cold, raging toothache, and a computer that keeps rebooting. Awful weekend. Then I watched a stranger stop to rescue a worm from the pavement using a twig, and honestly, that fixed everything.

I'm working in tech support now. Also, you know society has gone lawsuit-crazy when fanart comes with "please don't sue me" disclaimers.

Been busy with real life lately. LindowsOS looks promising for my free-computer project. X-Men Evolution series 3 is fantastic and I'm still smitten with Nightcrawler. Also found a cool animation showing how US state boundaries changed through history.

Back at Warwick for Freshers' week. Campus living is great, being network tech support less so. Sleep deprivation is real. Also, there should be a law against straight guys being misleading on the dancefloor. Oh, and Turkey seized weapons-grade uranium smugglers. Sleep well, everyone.

Last day at IBM Hursley, back to Warwick! Also: possible life on Venus (just microbes, but still), everything we know is wrong, and the Weekly World News has infiltrated Al-Qaeda. Quite a day.

Been too busy working to blog much. My sources for the fun stuff: Gagpipe, Memepool, FARK, Slashdot, Google News. Also, keep reading the baby story. And here's a tasteless 9/11 joke I've been sitting on: New York, so good they whacked it twice.

I found a nifty disk-wiping tool on Freshmeat that boots from a floppy and nukes hard drives, with obvious legitimate uses and some delightfully evil ones. Also, UK exam boards have massively screwed up grades this year, leaving everyone uncertain whether students deserve their university places.

Had a fantastic birthday weekend in London. Thanks to everyone who came out, though let's be honest, it was mostly about me. As it always is. I may have a problem with that. I don't care.

It's September 12th, so crack whores and inappropriate behavior rule the day. Also, check out IWantOneOfThose for novelties like a metal-cutting torch and an L39 fighter jet. Don't buy anything though, it's my Christmas shopping territory.

After long searching, I've found the ultimate procrastination tool: holdthebutton.com. Also, a complete l33t 5p33k translator now exists online.

Took Friday off and hit London: Popstarz (best club ever, designed exclusively for me), a Brazilian barbecue, failed Body Worlds visit, hotel room gossip, Regent's Park, and Covent Garden's underwhelming street theatre. A great weekend, even if returning to Winchester remains as depressing as ever.

I know I shouldn't enjoy the Dow's 355-point drop, but I can't help it. It's like watching the Titanic sink. Horrible, yes, but you can't look away. Friends say I should care more about the economic fallout. They're probably right. But I'm still watching.

I want stuff for my birthday. Here's a list of hints.

Credit to Matt Elton for the office supplies link. More pressingly: how many innocent people like that BBC story's subject are we not hearing about? And what happened to our outrage over Guantanamo Bay?

Just when I was starting to forget.

I'm overwhelmed with projects I never finish and lonely without my uni friends around. I need a boyfriend, but my cycle of infatuation and compromise keeps failing me. I need a gay geek who's cute and likes clubbing. They basically don't exist, hence gaygeeks.org, which I haven't built yet.

A gay RPG geek blogger who makes me jealous, plus Homestar Runner links that are very funny.

Discovered Python (five lines for a working GUI app, sold), and fell back in love with EurekAlert, where science confirms the obvious: tobacco companies are shady, optimists outlive pessimists, female doctors are nicer, and crystal chips may replace barcodes. A good 24 hours of random internet wandering.

Google has indexed my entire site, including blog entries. Amusingly, it will now also index this post about being indexed, creating a hopelessly reflexive loop of links.

Even my cynicism couldn't survive this. A town of 10,000 in Newfoundland absorbed 6,000 stranded air travelers after 9/11, housed them, fed them, took them on boat trips. One grateful passenger started a college scholarship fund on the flight home. Wow.

Dreading graduating right into a recession, which means I'll probably have no choice but to do a PhD and wait it out.

Work got better today and I actually got stuff done. But the real highlight: found a London contract paying £200/hour for Java/Oracle/MQ Series work. That's 10x my current rate. Suddenly I'm very motivated to learn MQ Series.

It's been 2000 years since the last set of commandments, so here's an updated list for the 21st century: get a computer, get internet access, check your email, verify your sources, don't spread rumors, and for the love of all that is holy, read the manual before bothering your techie.

Back in Winchester, the world's only one-horse city. Staying at Erasmus Park, surviving on dialup, table football, and shameless self-documentation. Mass emails feel pushy, so the journal it is. Projects pending: my third-year project, a site update, and GayGeeks.org, my transparently desperate attempt at internet dating.

Day 3 at IBM, posting from the office since my accommodation only has dialup. Found a fascinating first-hand account of an epileptic seizure written by the person experiencing it in real time. Beautiful writing, terrifying to imagine witnessing it live.

America's moved on from war coverage to kidnapped girls and cratering markets. Meanwhile, I start at IBM Hursley Monday, shirtless and clueless, since my boss hasn't called and my shirts are on the south coast. Crash, markets, crash!

Six days into New York. Hit Central Park, the Met, Liberty from afar. Met Ed's friends, one of whom would enthusiastically service Jon Stewart on demand. Fingers crossed he's a reader.

First time in New York. It's basically London but bigger, cleaner, and sweatier. The accents are grating, the buildings are absurdly tall, and the whole place feels like a film set. Seen Central Park, photographed skyscrapers, plenty more tourist nonsense still to get through.

Corporate scandals are making it risky to buy a copier, pay electricity, or make a phone call. Looks like the recession started in 1997 and everyone's been faking profits since. Anyway, off to New York for July 4th!

Exhausted by the endless Middle East violence. On a lighter note, Googling my pre-exam anxiety led me down an unexpected rabbit hole.

The so-called economic recovery looks shaky as markets freefall. A recovery built on borrowed money for cars and houses won't last. Consumers will crack just in time to torpedo my job prospects. Fanfuckingtastic.

2 exams down, 9 to go, and my brain has checked out. HCI is mind-numbing. Martian FM is the opposite: brilliant. Cowboys, Big Brother lookalikes, shoot-outs over plastering disputes. These people are wonderful.

Revising all day killed my blogging mojo, but here's what I've got: reasons to ban cloning white people, ice oceans discovered on Mars (hello, terraforming potential!), and my dream of sightseeing through Valles Marineris. Mondays still suck.

Finally got the weblog back-end working, thanks to procrastination. If it's broken, you can't read this anyway.

A tongue-in-cheek boast that starts as personal bragging and ends as group superiority — poking fun at how quickly "I'm better than you" becomes "we're better than them."

I attended St. Mary's College in Trinidad and hated every minute of it. Crumbling facilities, Catholic indoctrination, non-Catholic students used as unpaid groundskeepers, a culture of universal mutual hostility, and a teaching staff composed almost entirely of incompetents and burnouts. Sadly, it's still one of the better schools in the country.

A poem about the quiet contradiction of shyness: wanting connection but fearing it, holding my tongue while hoping someone turns my way and sees me anyway.

A poem about a woman who never quite fits in, invisible at school, overlooked socially, finding hollow comfort in church work and family visits while longing for real intimacy. She goes on dates that lead nowhere. She dies alone. It's bleak, but honestly, it needed saying.

A poem about serial one-night-standers seeking connection through sex but finding only emptiness. Skilled at seduction, hopeless at intimacy, they keep returning to the meat market, alone despite never sleeping alone. You can't see another's heart by groping in the dark.

A poem about a beautiful boy who coasts through life on his looks, never developing personality or skills, only to find himself adrift at 35 when a younger face steals his crown. Beauty without substance leaves you with nothing when the beauty fades.

A poem about a girl broken down by school, parents, and society until she believed she was worthless. Conditioned to apologize for existing, she forgot her gifts. The ending is devastating and intentional.

A poem about a self-destructive friend who performs danger for spectators while real friends rush him to the ER at 2am. He's not truly crazy, just a careful liar craving attention from people who are fans, not friends.

A poem of encouragement built on the idea that problems are time-soluble, that invisible struggles are still real, and that sometimes the best advice is recognizing someone is already doing fine. I'll be here regardless.

A poem about an ordinary, invisible boy nobody noticed. No tragic ending, no special qualities, just a reminder that everyone has depth if you bother to look, and that loneliness is more common than we admit.

A poem about the overwhelming paralysis of wanting to fix everything and fixing nothing, as problems pile into a crushing wall of inaction. But a billion of us feel this way, and together we might hold it back.

A poem about beautiful people who move through the world effortlessly, inspiring helpless devotion while remaining oblivious to their effect on others. Also a note to myself: stop forcing writing into preset beats. Let the rhythm emerge from the words instead.

A poem and prose piece urging you to stop living in fear of judgment. Nobody is watching as closely as you think, the walls are imaginary, and the only thing stopping you from being yourself is you. Let it go. You have nothing to hide.

A poem about the tension between inner growth and the pressure to stay small, stay safe, stay the same. The world wants you on automatic. I'm overflowing.

I keep searching for perfection while falling for the wrong guys. Am I asking too much of the world and myself? Should I settle and call my search a halt? I can't be honest with someone else when I can't even tell myself when enough is enough.

A poem about coming out to my parents, fearing I'll become a stranger to them, but pleading that this stranger still needs their love to survive.

A stream-of-consciousness poem urging movement, change, and urgency before time passes you by. Life's too short for repetition and slow burns. Cut the crap, speed up, and act now while you still can.

A poem about a bright kid lost in isolation, depression, and silent suffering. Old scars, shattered dreams, and the weight of an unwitnessed fall into darkness.

A poem about people who treat me as a novelty rather than a person, collecting "weirdo friends" to impress others while reducing me to comfortable clichés. I refuse to be squeezed into their jigsaw. Know me as I am, or don't bother.

A playful, bouncing poem about life's chaos and randomness, finding humor in the absurd, the hilly Earth, upended status quos, and the slippery search for meaning. Take it as a joke, find what's in there, make something tasty.

Feeling numb, pointless, and stuck in a fog. First love that wasn't, wanting what I can't have, too tired to cry. But I'm not giving up. I'll fight my way back to happy.

I'm in love with someone I can never approach or even look at directly. Every stolen glance brings equal pleasure and pain. I don't know if they feel the same. I can't ask. I can't even say their name. My secret stays buried in guilt and silence.

A poem about soul music's raw power to take over completely, leaving no room for thought or resistance. It's primal, untamed, and all-consuming. Music isn't something I simply hear; it's everything, and there was nothing before it.

A poem about feeling peripheral, disconnected from the main event of life. I'm the sideshow nobody notices, clowning through existence, wondering if anything I do matters. The circus rolls on with or without me.

A poem about a man paralyzed by self-doubt, unable to see his own impact on the world because he's too close to his own life to gain perspective.

A poem about the unknowable self that lurks within, driving my actions without my consent. I've traveled far but never found myself, and this hidden inner force clouds my judgment, harms those I love, and leaves me pleading for forgiveness from those I've hurt.

A poem about humanity's journey through time, urging us to look beyond ourselves and steer toward something better. We owe our children stronger rafts and clearer paths so they can shape the river's course long after ours has ended.

A poem about life's journey, using the metaphor of a leaf carried by a river. We can't control where life takes us, but we can control how we travel. So move fast, go far, and make your mark.

A poem and note to someone I love who loves another. I love them more than my own existence, so I'll love whoever makes them happy. But if they're ever unsure about their relationship, I hope they remember what real love feels like.

A poem about feeling unique and misunderstood, longing for connection while holding myself apart. I wonder if being special means being alone, and whether it's time to stop standing apart and just fall back into the arms of humanity.

I'm in love, terrified, and moving fast. I've found someone who feels like a missing piece of myself, and their absence physically aches. I don't want friendship or labels. I just want them to hold me and say they miss me too.

A poem about coming out to someone close, and the painful year since. I miss what we had before my truth changed everything between us. I don't know when we'll find our way back to each other.

Secrets fester when you hide them. You think no one notices, but really no one knows, and the paranoia is worse than the secret itself. Pain doesn't have to be dramatic to be real. Let it out. In the open, problems shrink. Secrets only look dirty in the dark.

A poem about breaking out of isolation and connecting with others. Stop hiding in your shell, get out there, share a glance, feel the crowd, make human contact. Life hurts when you live it alone.

I describe the five stages of computing expertise, from wide-eyed wonder at your first machine to intentionally pouring Coke into the disk drive. How accurate is it?

Being surrounded by people who don't know I'm gay has brought back every awful feeling I'd forgotten: the guilt, the vigilance, the claustrophobia of hiding. Acceptance has to keep happening. I refuse to be recloseted again. I'll out myself, help others, and fight everything that keeps closets closed.

I'm furious at people who completely miss the point of art. Fifteen people on VH1 thought Alanis was being a slut in "Thank U" -- it's obviously about honesty and vulnerability. If meaning lives in the observer rather than the artist, what's even the point of creating anything?

I'm only creative when I'm unhappy. Stress and discomfort generate ideas; peace and quiet are just when I execute them. My best creative period was during depression. The problem: creating things makes me happy, which kills creativity. I need resistance to move, and I can't manufacture genuine opposition for myself.

I turned off Madonna to listen to rain on the roof, and it sparked an insight: rain is the ultimate sound experience. It surrounds you completely, it's perfectly random, it carries no message or agenda, and every rainfall is utterly unique. No recording can ever replicate that.

A frustrated challenge to those who understand science yet still cling to religious belief. How can you know the chemistry of life, the neuroscience of thought, the physics of the universe, and still need God to explain the stars?

Happiness boils down to fulfilling your wants, not some arbitrary set of "needs" defined by society. Ignorance is bliss, but infinite knowledge might be too. There's a miserable middle ground most of us occupy. More thinking required.

I explore what makes friendships form, last, and fade: you need to know someone, admire them, care for them, and have it be mutual. Maintaining friendships requires continuous growth and communication. As for losing friends gracefully? Turns out honesty is the only option, and it still sucks.

Got a story accepted on Slashdot. Yay.

My blog just turned one year old. 137 posts, one every 2.6 days, mostly geeky links and incidental nonsense. Not much has changed and nothing will. Here are some links: a cool girl's site, how to strip KaZaA's adware, eDonkey, Blair's 9/11 speech, robot orderlies, and Arctic Eskimos reconnecting with lost traditions.

Working on a site redesign that looks great, but the gruntwork is killing my motivation. Also: everyone needs a naked cowboy in their life. Crazy people are the best.

A dull Easter vacation with spotty internet. Highlights: the iBong, stern Russian greeting card chickens, a Java drawing BBS, some useful Windows tools, a brilliant mashup track, job rejection for being a student, CMS nightmares, and a fat dancer leaving a band.

Easter vacation is here and I'm clearing out my bookmarks backlog. Highlights include file sharing drama (KaZaA vs Morpheus), VCD tools, a 2002 movie preview, and LimeWire vs BearShare comparisons. KaZaA wins for memory manners, AudioGalaxy loses for not having Fraggle Rock.

Survived another sleepless deadline stretch on 14 hours of recovery sleep. Today's absurdity: Divorce-Online.co.uk running their own dating service. Nothing says "find the love of your life" like a site dedicated to ending marriages.

Finished the latest draft of my play, Silly Things. Nobody reads this blog anyway, so here it is: grab the manuscript in plain text or MS Word format and please, send me feedback.

Conducting an informal survey on a possible correlation between breastfeeding and sexual orientation. Mail me your age, orientation, and breastfeeding history. Also stumbled on the alarming "Ban Breastfeeding" website while researching. Results forthcoming.

Stuck home on a Saturday struggling with Z, an evil language. Distracted myself with Technosphere (build creatures, set them loose) and The Sims, which is officially the most addictive game ever made.

Tired but amused by a surprisingly accurate one-click personality test. Yes, I've taken dozens of these. Yes, I know what that says about me.

Procrastinating before my exam, sleep-deprived and randomly surfing, I stumbled onto Boing.com and got weirdly hooked speculating about the anonymous author, the family photos, and whatever plastic surgeon has clearly been busy with them.

Pointing you to my friend Chez's neglected homepage partly to embarrass him into updating it. Highlights include hilariously sarcastic kids, a college guide with spot-on takes on philosophy and sociology (sociologists can kiss my ass), and science terms explained.

My lecturer Alexandre Tiskin is evil. Be warned.

I'm totally addicted to bass.

Procrastinating on work with a roundup of tech links: the Rio Riot's 20GB looks great, CWB is evil, dolphins beat porpoises, China got bugged jets, gravastars may replace black holes, and I won my first eBay auction. Also, trees kill.

Week 1 of term 2 done. Turned in my assignment on time and hit London for the January sales. Camden Market delivered, Oxford Street didn't. Also: Prolog scrambles your brain but writes tiny elegant programs, the new iMac is gorgeous, and Castle Transylvania is disappointingly now a tourist resort.

Back in Warwick after the holidays. Foggy but not freezing. Missed half my first lecture due to a nearby plastics factory fire snarling all the buses. Started swimming with Dan, London sales trip this weekend, and an assignment due Monday. Busy times.

A fantastic index of random generators, a cool new pixel arrangement giving monitors 4x the resolution, and why I'm skipping the year-in-review stuff. My 2002 resolutions will be revealed December 31, 2002, when I can make them realistic.

Merry Christmas eve! Taking a break from posting, and skipping the obligatory year-in-review nonsense.

Google Groups now archives Usenet posts going back to before I was born, meaning every major event of my entire life is documented in searchable form. It's a fantastically cool digital record of history, even if the discussions themselves are full of clueless people.

Celebrated Darren's 21st in style with dancing, drinking, and chaos. A burst pipe flooded three floors of the house. Nothing to do with us, I swear. The housemates aren't laughing yet, but they will be.

Christmas is coming and I went shopping today, totally stumped on what to get people or how to pay for it all. Erk.

A batch of bookmarks worth sharing: Afghan history, port forwarding tips, keyboard shortcut myths, free mailing lists, world flags, Winamp volume leveling, friend quizzes, genuinely gross content, exploding dogs, queer superhero comics, gay characters in mainstream comics, a Java IDE, UK maps, animal symbolism, and fantasy art galleries.

Garbage's Beautiful Garbage is their best yet. "Androgyny" is perfectly me, and I'm manifesting a live performance while wearing my "Nobody Knows I'm a Lesbian" shirt. "Cherry Lips" makes me wish I'd written the lyrics myself.

I had forgotten. Follow the link.

Week 2 of fast Internet brings anti-Bin Laden jokes approaching All Your Base levels of overkill, random URL exploration, and a flood of new software including ZoneAlarm, Morpheus, and GhostScript. Broadband is clearly bad for productivity.

Finally got ADSL and it's glorious. 576K downstream and I couldn't be happier. Also learned BT's pricing is actually mandated by Oftel, not greed. NTL still useless though.

September 11th. Everything has changed.

Calling someone a "white-bellied bustard" is deeply satisfying. Try it next time you need a solid insult.

Long weekend, but swamped with work. Here are some recent bookmarks: Marvel Dotcomics, SamSpade.Org for network tools, the hilarious Things My Girlfriend and I Argue About, a currency converter, and an Oracle 8i SQL reference online.

I want one of these.

Three days in and the new job is going great. Learning Oracle, comfortable environment, nice colleagues. Best part? I'm earning a pound every four minutes. Hard not to love that.

First day at the new job, but my laptop's being set up so I've got nothing to do but blog. Too early to say much about the job yet, but it looks promising.

Exams done, now job hunting. Possibly have an interview Tuesday. Found 1000+ emails waiting for me. Need money, food is good. God bless Jobserve.

Hooked on Big Brother again, only seven days in and already despising most of the housemates. My revision is suffering, but Channel Four has done it again.

Small walking dinosaur robots are inspiring future scientists, apparently. Also discovered The Skills Market, a surprisingly well-designed IT recruitment site with neat supply-demand graphs for skills. Worth checking out if you're job hunting. Which I am, along with searching for somewhere to live this summer.

Not all my content comes from Slashdot. Some comes from Ed. Also: marijuana is 3-4% of Canada's GDP, and I'm on board with banning heterosexual marriage and reproduction.

Revising is boring.

Complaining about cold buildings and bad internet access, but at least no Monday lectures. Here's a Gilbert and Sullivan parody link to make it worthwhile.

Recovering now, but Warwick's IT department has cut off my in-room internet. Posts will be sparse, so check Slashdot and Wired yourself. Also: it's sunny and warm in England. Remarkable.

Sick and back at uni. Posts will be sparse for a few days.

Matt Elton's site has great content, even if the design is a mess (thanks, Dreamweaver). He's inspired me to write humor again. Also, he linked to me first, so here's my reciprocal nod. And Matt: I wrote about science vs religion before you did.

I'm angry about Columbine. America's conformist moron majority makes life hell for anyone different, then acts shocked when those kids snap. I was bullied, gay, and miserable in school. Until America stops punishing nonconformists and starts holding bullies accountable, my sympathy for shooting victims is basically zero.

I got a submission accepted on SlashDot, which combined with my Dilbert newsletter appearance makes me basically a media mogul. Also saw Bridget Jones's Diary -- good movie, but read the book first. Plus some minor blog navigation tweaks.

Laziness is scientifically good for you. After this vacation, I may be the healthiest person alive.

Exams in a week and I've done everything except revise. Also: Amtrak selling passenger data to the DEA is terrifying, Dogma was great, and Spice World is brilliant precisely because it never pretends to be anything other than a shiny, silly good time.

I may be in love.

My housemate Simon tried to open a bottle by screwing a corkscrew through the metal cap. The story made it into the Dilbert newsletter as a True Tale of an Induhvidual. Fame at last, of a sort.

A management coup has been attempted at BrainSpark, incubator for my former dot-com employer EasyArt, by the former COO who was once my direct boss. Dot-coms are endlessly entertaining. I almost miss the silly money.

I've stopped sharing Slashdot links because everything there is worth reading, and you should just be reading it yourself.

Got a Nokia 3210. It plays the Imperial March and displays "Star Wars" as my operator logo. Found free logos at BoltBlue (one per day) and ring tones at YourMobile. Can't believe anyone pays real money for tiny black-and-white icons.

Got a data entry job after two weeks broke on vacation. MSIE is a security disaster, Netscape is garbage, Mozilla shows promise but crawls. The MSIE patch doesn't even fix it, meaning HTML emails can execute arbitrary code. I miss when email viruses were just hoaxes.

Flying cars are getting closer to reality. The SkyCar looks amazing but needs a 70-meter landing circle, so driveway parking isn't happening anytime soon. Still, it looks like the Mach 5!

Started a blog to keep content fresh and turn rants into articles. This first post is pretty pathetic, but hopefully things improve from here.