I may have been a little too excited in firing off a hasty fangirl-y email to an address that probably isn’t even monitored anymore, but I was so happy that I found the site I’ve been alluding to since college. All I had to do, all this time, was to browse my old middle-and-high school files for a certain animation with a certain username on it.
Blink and you miss it: http:// members. aol. com/ chibiusa97.(1) The pieces fell into place from there. So I sent an email. …Well, less polished and rushed than what you see here, perhaps, but the sentiment is the same.
Hello,
As I tend to do as Web 3.0 breathes down our necks, I sit back and reminisce about The Old Web… when everyone built their own little piece. I remember your website dedicated to Chibi Usa, who was also my favorite Sailor Scout. You had one of my favorite web pages in the late 90s, so I was always a little saddened that I could never remember the URL or who you were.
So, imagine my delight when I came across one of your old .ani files in my archives! A quick search of your username later and I navigated to your CS100 assignment. It’s still up, after all these decades. Coming across sites like that is like peering back into time.
The Internet is/was a very cool place, and I’m still amazed at how information is communicated on this medium, and how it has grown.
And how sites have inspired me, such as yours.
So I want to say, thank you. As a kid in 1997 browsing the Web in middle school Computer Club, to the almost-40 adult who still has a passion for this sort of thing. I hope you’re still in it, enjoying anime, and I hope this email reaches you well.
Take care,
“me”
I propose a toast for ChibiUsa97, and all the ChibiUsa97s still floating around, coding and enjoying what they love.
(1) That link no longer works, natch. However, you can view the page on the Wayback Machine. That hyperlink points to the version I’m most familiar with, but do slide around the timeline and see how it changed over the years!
I won’t talk about the during-move blues, other than note that it was one of the most stressful times I have had in a long time. I blew past my breaking point and burned out twice over. I wanted to cry, a lot, and I wanted to not deal with that shit anymore.
And then, it was done.
How am I doing now?
First off, I am relieved. I am also grateful for all the help we managed to get. I’m not even happy that the hard part is over.
I am sad. Still in mourning for the house-that-was in my apartment-that-is. My favorite ideal future of a giant house with our individual spaces, of all of our hobbies intertwining, and metas and friends visiting often will never happen. Relationships have transitioned and bonds sustained damage. There is, as I noted above, a distance I can never cross.
I did enjoy organizing and decorating with my remaining nesting partner. We made the place ours, and the vacuum left behind gradually filled. And it has been satisfactory as we settled into our slightly modified routines (the shortened commute certainly helped). Coming home feels, well, like coming home.
I am not happy, yet. There’s recovering from the physical, mental, and monetary stress. I may need another month.
I’m the embodiment of this old vine: I am COMPLETELY GIVING UP.
It’s official. I’m capital D Done with online dating.
Sure, I’ve reduced my apps, but I was still feeling frustrated and convinced that I fucking suck. And on top of that, there’s dealing with the usual pitfalls of online dating like People (Mostly Men) Not Reading My Profile, One-Word Convos, and Weirdos in the Inbox– especially the ones that can’t seem to get my pronouns right. And then there’s all the things outside of my control like algorithms and paywalls.
I know it ain’t me… Mostly. I’m not perfect. Shit, maybe it is. I’m convinced that I’m not just cut out for online dating. Maybe I don’t have the extroverted personality for it. Maybe I am hideous and off-putting. The back of my brain is going what’s wrong with me?! Am I too something, and/or not enough something else?
It’s too fucking much.
It’s a gut punch when you have a great rapport with someone, and they just… stop. Out of all my dates and conversations, only one person had the decency to just send a text stating that she wasn’t feeling it. Everyone else never got back to me.
I get Ghosted.
The latest person to do so was someone I’ve been seeing for half a year. And it hurts extra because we bonded over our mutual dislike for getting ghosted on– and I still got done like that anyway. No closure, no reason, nothing.
Few things feel shittier than that. Something must be wrong with me. And that’s when I decided to throw in the towel.
And you know the wild thing about this? I’ve actually had successful dates. And each one was with a person who I was already interacting with in meatspace. So, fuck it: I’ll just stick to doin’ it Old School. My introverted socially anxious homebody ass will stumble through and figure it out. And if it is "just me"? Then I’ll work on myself. I should be doing that regardless.
For real.
I mean it.
I am done with the dating apps.
…
Until I’m bored. OKCupid still has all those fucking questions I haven’t answered.
What we’re doing to our planet. Well, I say that as a general "we," but for decades it’s been the large corporations putting the onus on us to stop using plastic straws as they dump toxic waste in the drinking water in our backyards. I remember the fireflies that used to be numerous, how the summers didn’t get this hot this quickly. I’m scared of how the climate is going to be in my 50s.
lives rent free in my head
Comic book panels, sometimes weakly ‘shopped with a custom utterance.
pisses me off
How I’ll probably never be able to retire or buy a house. Unless I work even harder than I already am, of course, but that’s no guarantee.
grounds me
That I’m still alive.
Also, the classic bare-feet-on-the-ground for the literal interpretation. But, that really does work for me.
It found me fine, I think. I have not written nearly enough poems for a poem-a-day goal (only 3-4 so far). The difficulty is to sit down and quiet myself, to listen to my inspirations long enough to actually write something. Stressors can get in the way of that.
But I use that.
Writing always helped me process my emotions, and what better way to help work through my worries than… writing some stanzas about it?
Soon I’ll play catch-up (I’ve been jotting down prompts, at least, as well as following the official blog) and post what I’ve come up with so far.
Bloganuary Prompt: What do you complain about the most?
The one thing I bitch about the most? Heteronormality.
Nah, scratch that; it’s how binary everything freakin’ is.
No, wait! How I’m expected to be androgynous because I’m non-binary.
No, wait, it’s how the [insert community here] has a racism problem it refuses to acknowledge.
Okay, let’s go with that one. It hurts my heart when I’m hit with racist microaggressions when I exist in queer-forward spaces, on top of the general history of Whiteness marginalizing anyone that isn’t white.
Wait, no, let’s take it a step further with [community] has a [bigot] problem it refuses to acknowledge, if not actively encourage. And it really hurts when it feels like these peers should get it, you know?
Because why the fuck is biphobia still a fucking problem in the overall queer community? I’ve friends who are currently shouted down and erased because they’re never seen as queer enough.
And all of my Black peers stay away from the Hoteps of the diaspora because they insist on hetero normativity, and toxic masculinity.
You know what? It’s bigoty. That’s what I complain about the most.
That’s it, that’s the post, because I’m tired of repeating myself ad nauseum. We’ll be here all day with the long list of examples I can illustrate.
A bitch is tired. I’ll probably expand on this at a later date, complete with personal anecdotes. But for now, just allow me to get to the point:
Solidarity ain’t shit when you’re still a fucking bigot.
While the timeline I had in mind would be over the span of two months, tops, I managed to do this in two days. It helped that I’ve had ClassicPress in a pinned tab for quite some time now, and buying the domain name was the easy part. Hosting was where I dragged my feet, but it was quickly resolved by how easy it was for me to fall back into the server maintenence groove. But still, at first I was nervous. I don’t have the budget to have a professional on retainer, so it would have to be a DIY operation– and while I’ve managed Linux servers in the past, it was quite some time ago and I felt quite rusty. And in addition to the rust, I am also occasionally lazy. And impatient. I wanted my site moved now!
I settled on DigitalOcean. It came highly recommended when I first asked around for hosting solutions, with the caveat that it wasn’t exactly casual-friendly. "I’m just going to try it out, poke around it, shake the cobwebs off my knowledge" I thought to myself. I was also prepared to get my hands a little dirty if it came to that. Besides, there was this handy tool that set up the headache-inducing environment for me, brought to my attention from browsing ClassicPress Forums. So that certainly helped!
Like many things, it was like riding a bike. Once the wheels started turning, I remembered a lot more than I thought I would. I had to do some updates, set up ClassicPress, and I was done! Before I knew it, I was settling right in nicely as I customized, secured, and broke things (the deleted DNS records got better– yay for restore buttons!).
This feels like… wearing a beloved blanket. I didn’t want to move to a whole different blogging platform, after all. I’m a creature that enjoys the familiar and the nostalgic, and right now as I type this I’m transported back to 2005. During Web Developing class everyone was setting up their WordPress accounts for the first time, and I thought it pretty magical. Frankly, it still is. And now, I can develop my own theme. Since I don’t have to pay extra to do so, I don’t really have an excuse now. Besides time, anyway.
So, hello again! We’re back on schedule.
I can only wish my IRL move in the upcoming months will be as smooth as this was.
I have a pretty solid finish to last month’s Bloganuary, and then I… disappeared. This time, it isn’t because I ran out of steam! But it was redirected elsewhere.
There’s the health issues I’ve referenced in the last few months, and that does cause some anxiety. I’ve been trying to eat better and work out (at least walk!) more, so I’m hoping that’ll help. And drink water!
But also.
Due to Reasons, I’ll need to move later this year. That’s always stressful, yes, but there’s also the added wrinkle of some relationship transitions (or alternatively, break ups) that also entail the shake-up of living situations. I’ve had some time to come to terms with it and prepare, but it doesn’t make it easier.
So that’s been stressful.
I’ve been relieving my stress with fanfiction. Writing silly things, for fun, and indulging in one of my favorite What-Ifs. And it has helped, but I think I’m ready to work on some blog drafts and my other projects more.
I’ve noticed that I tend to only update this blog when I have something big to say. An informal essay of something about three pages. I should relax and not be afraid of smaller, more concise entries.
Like this one.
So, yeah, another transition. New beginning and all of that. Nothing terribly profound.
I am not looking forward to uprooting and packing some memories away.
I am absolutely running that joke into the ground.
Prompt: Write about your first computer.
Bloganuary is over, but I couldn’t resist this prompt!
My dad bought an AST Advantage! computer[1] from a coworker and we settled it on the desk in my bedroom. We were pretty excited, both of us being electronic gadget nerds in our own ways: I was into everything computers, while my dad’s forte was audio and video setups. We were both content in a RadioShack, back in the day.
It was a beige thing with a horizontal tower (vertical wasn’t all the rage yet) and came with CRT monitor, keyboard, mouse, a desk microphone, a manual, and a whole sleeve of CD software (s/o to Encarta, always coming in clutch when I needed additional research for school essays). The speakers were passable, nothing to write home about.
It was running Windows 95. A solid operating system– a opinion I hold to this day– but it felt a little dated compared to the Win98 (or 2000?) installed on computers elsewhere. But, that was no biggie. It also lacked adequate Internet access for its modem wasn’t quite up to snuff, if I recall correctly. But, still, it was pretty cool. When it wasn’t a word processor, it played music and we played a few MS-DOS games on it.
The Advantage! stayed in my room. From what I remember, the computer became my domain and thus, unofficially tasked with taking care of the thing. That included, in my assumption, that I was to do upkeep and remove any unnecessary files or programs. I took it pretty seriously.
From the Windows 95 desktop I dragged photos and irrelevant documents from Explorer to the recycling bin. You can guess where this is going. No, I did not delete the System32 folder, but I did something just as hilarious:
I deleted desktop.exe.
In my defense, I made sure to at least open programs before I made my decision to chuck ’em. And this particular executable was the AST-branded desktop environment with a distinct Windows 3.1 flavor. I thought it was safe to get rid of, because we already had a desktop environment– and a modern one, to boot! I thought I was safe.
The instant I banished it to the Bin, I got an error message. You were instructed to reboot the computer in hopes of the OS finding desktop.exe again. But it was in the Bin, untouchable, so you were effectively boot looped.
I panicked. Not because I’d get in trouble (and I probably did), but because we didn’t have the install discs for the operating system! So there was no way for me to fix it until we got them. A few weeks later I was able to repair the damage, and got a surprise. The install discs were for Windows 3.1! The Windows 95 install turned out to be a delicate patch job that I wrecked in my error.
But hey, the computer was usable again! So I got on with it with no complaint. I screwed up, after all. Armed with the Flatten-and-Rebuild option, I got to learning and making more mistakes. I hadn’t done any blunders of that magnitude since, but I kept those discs close!
I became real familiar with using the ALT key to access menu items– especially ALT + SPACE, for when a window got nudged off-screen and I could not see it. That happened a lot in 3.1, at least in my use case. I learned how Batch files did their thing and customized a whole startup routine pointing to different programs and Windows proper– including an NES emulator to play Mega Man II. I played with its audio programs, listening to my Final Fantasy MIDIs when I wasn’t creating silly audio skits. Imagine my delight when I saw it could’ve been used as an answering machine and phone! Stones.Exe was my favorite time-waster, when we weren’t playing MS-DOS games. And lastly: it was just pretty fascinating to interact with That Older OS, to see how far along its come.
Common objects I’ve ferreted to and from home via floppy discs were
Eventually, we did get our Technically-Second computer: A Gateway with Windows Millennial Edition. It was the family computer, chilling in my parent’s bedroom before it was moved to the corner of the dining room. We loved ourselves some Bejeweled, 3D Pinball Space Cadet, and That Game Where You Shoot Dial-Up Modems (was free with our DSL provider).
I thoroughly enjoyed browsing the Internet, sending emails, browsing GameFAQs, and putting together my fansites for Chrono Cross and Kingdom Hearts. I downloaded mp3s from OverClocked Remix— it took twenty minutes for one file, so I typically busied myself with something else– and the entire time I’d hope no one would call.
There was also this program that snitched on everything you did on the computer. Of course, it was installed! I was called out for the habit of deleting my browsing history (because they could see it anyway), but I just shrugged. I wasn’t doing anything out of line and to be frank, the real saucy stuff was regulated to the library computers, out of their reach. This Nanny program promptly disappeared when I exploited WinME’s login bug, snooped, and found a certain folder with certain images not under my account. That deeply amused me.
We had a year free of for Norton, when they were still reliable. All of us clicked on our fair share of dodgy sites (and yes, we used Limewire), and were super concerned with the worms and viruses. When Sasser was making the rounds I couldn’t help but feel smug– it didn’t target WinME systems (but it did get the last laugh when I finally upgraded to XP without reformatting– another lesson learned).
The era of Family Computers was a pretty special time. There was nothing like it. It was communal, whether we crowded around the screen or we took turns doing Important Things. We burned CDs, used the scanner, printed out photos, and bookmarked cool things for us to peruse. I have a family photo of all of us at the table, taken by our first digital camera, processed on our first computer, and printed out on our first printer.
I kept the AST for a few years, and eventually inherited the Gateway when it was usurped from the Family Computer crown. After that, I upgraded to a HP Media Center Edition for school (I needed all the horsepower for Photoshop and video editing– the TV watching was a bonus). And beyond that, I’ve had my run-ins with more HPs, Acers, and Dells.
But the AST Advantage! was first, and I’ll fondly look back on it always.
I had a rad 7th grade Social Studies teacher. I can’t remember her name, but she was a small lady who had a sense of humor and wore jeans. I daresay she was even kinda cool, and I’m not just saying that because Social Studies was one of my favorite classes (I love to read that much). Unfortunately, I don’t recall much except four things:
The time we watched The Little Mermaid and the class clown– responding to Ariel’s “Why, Eric? Run away with me?”– yelled incredulously at the screen: “You don’t have legs! You can’t run!”
I managed to have The Latest Crush sign my yearbook. We never spoke to each other before that. He was surprised that I wanted one; I surprised myself by feeling brave enough to even ask.
That pretty sweet drawing I did poking fun at The Boston Tea Party for extra credit. (Alas, lost to time. Maybe. I’ll check my closet).
It was this Fourth Thing that cemented her as A Cool Teacher (but as is tradition, The Cool Teacher was the Art teacher).
The school year starts out as usual. Each class rarely began with lessons and homework on the first day. Instead, the period was spent going over rules, lesson timeline, grading scale, the boring but important stuff. So when we wandered into this corner classroom we expected more of the same.
And it was– except for a twist. When we got to the Rules section of our material, she instructed us to open our brand new spiral notebooks. I’m sure a lot of us thought “Dang, we’re taking notes already?!” But no.
On the top of the very first page, she had us write this, instead:
DO NOTHING TO INTERRUPT INSTRUCTION.
and tasked us with how we could (and would) follow that rule.
Simple, right?
Deceptively so.
While some of our suggestions took the piss out of it, they still had a glimmer of truth in them. The majority of what we scribbled down were serious: no loud noises, no gum in seats, don’t be rude, don’t be late, respect the teacher– someone even mentioned no sleeping! Some were obvious, some were creative, but all of us were using our developing brains for ten minutes trying to come up with a least ten subrules.
This is something I carry with me to this day. Hell, a version of this typically encompasses the spaces I moderate. When you really boil it down, a list of rules can arguably be summed up with a “do nothing to disrupt this space.”
