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Wondering how the First Day of School went? Hear it from the horse's mouth:

Total running time, 8:16, even after editing out some hard to understand parts, so be prepared to sit and giggle for a while.

How strange -- 11111001111 is in the top ten hits for the phrase "tiny little penis." Unlike a lot of odd search requests, that phrase IS here, in a link to Note that is NOT in the top ten Google results for the phrase "tiny little penis." Have I said 'penis' enough yet? Penis, penis, penis, penis.

Back to school!

Maybe I'm a naughty daddy for not walking Destiny to school on the first day. We stopped at school to take a few pictures, but then we headed off for daycare. My justification is this: let Destiny figure out school for herself. She knows her teacher's name, so she can ask for directions if need be. She knows her classroom is near the playground, so she has an idea of where it is as well. She will be better off having conquered the first day of school on her own.

This is her first day of full-day education. Kindergarten was half days, so this morning was a bit of a rush. She had been in the afternoon kingergarten class, so it didn't matter when we got to daycare. Now, daycare's shuttle van leaves at 7:45am, and they don't wait for stragglers. I warned Destiny that she has to get up when I do, and I think she is taking it as a part of being a big girl now.

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Two years ago, at Christmas, I bought Destiny a pack of temporary tattoos. Each tattoo is a chinese pictogram, with the english translation below it.

I had to buy them, because one was the pictogram for "destiny".

She's used up all the tattoos, but I had the foresight to scan one into the computer.

Destiny's first grade teacher recommended labelling each student's school supplies, to avoid confusion. I printed out a sheet of pictograms on clear stickers; Destiny's crayons, markers, pencil box, and folders all have her logo on them.

In addition to pencils & paper, Destiny needed an "art shirt," something to get paint on without dirtying her school clothes. I was puzzled; how do I continue the Destiny cobranding on the shirt?

Solution: stencil.
One copy of the pictogram was printed off, and with a steady hand and sharp Exacto knife I produced a reasonable template. A few tests with the spraypaint can (burgundy at Des' request), and we were ready to mark her paint shirt.

However, nobody should trust me with a stencil and a full can of paint. If Destiny had her way, the walls would be marked as well.

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Um, hi Derek.

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I listen to a lot of AM radio at work. NPR is okay, but there's an oldies station I listen to alot. Something I get to hear on this station that I don't hear on the ClearChannel clones are Public Service Announcements.

Lately there's been a bunch about the positive impact of art. My favorite is this one: "I've seen dancing, and that's not it!" There's also some funny (but poingant) TV commercials on the website, which I might have seen if I watched television instead of pursuing artistic and creative ventures.

I know nothing about Americans for the Arts, but I like the concept: "The less art kids get, the more it shows." When Destiny need to clean, there are three things she needs to do: get her dolls off the livingroom floor, pick up her clothes off her bedroom floor, and straighten up her 'art area.' The converse is equally true: when kids get lots of art, it shows as well. It's clear from the way that Destiny interacts with people & the world around her that she 'thinks' differently. I was allowed a lot of artistic expression when I was younger too, and look how I turned out. Okay, so art doesn't breed perfection, but it certainly produces unconsious creativity.

Have I seen kids who've missed out on art? Plenty. Have I seen adults who obviously missed out as children? Hell yes. It's nowhere near as pronounced as the commercials make it seem, but, man, it's a sad thing to see people who have lost the talent of abstract thought. Crayons and paper are so inexpensive, it's a shame. If there's anything adult ed classes demonstrate, it's that creativity can be relearned once it's been forgotten. Don't just toss your kids, siblings, or friends a pack of markers and wait for them to hand you a picture. Sit down and draw something, too. If you think your picture looks like crap, then you've got a long way to go. All art looks like crap if you don't have a creative mind.

Daily Condition:

in cd player: information society, hack

my condition: 'fine', the softest grade of sandpaper.

I am sitting in class right now. I finished this week's homework LAST week.

So, I sit here while the instructor ("facilitator," according to school documentation) helps out my fellow students with their software bugs.

It's a VisualBasic class, so my eyes have been opened to the world of writing real Windows programs, rather than web-based front ends.

That is, if I decide to devote time and frustration to writing programs.

And, still, I sit here, waiting for class to twist back into an area that I haven't finished already.

Daily Condition:

in cd player: nine inch nails, broken

my condition: tired of coughing up mucous pudding every morning. Colds suck.

Going through my logs, in amongst the searches for "big bouncy," "grandma pussy only," and "naked hair washing video", there was a search for "contingent beneficiary explanation" which links to this previous blog entry. In making my point, I give a nice concise definition of what primary and contingent beneficiaries are. I hope I helped someone with their insurance paperwork!

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"Can I come with you?"

"Sure, the big door is open. Hold on."

I walked around to the rear passenger door to get the box. Destiny unbuckled and opened her door.

My UPS package already was paid for and labeled, so I was allowed to drop it off at the "Employee's Only" door of our local UPS distribution point. It was late in the day, so the overhead doors were all open to allow trucks in and out.

As Destiny and I came around the corner of the huge overhead door, Destiny was amazed at the sight. Trucks were lined up inside the building, backed against a long conveyor-belt running the length of the building. Men darted in and out of the trucks, tossing boxes out onto the belt, as other men walked around with the handheld computers scanning various packages. There were boxes everywhere, all moving, all disappearing where the conveyor passed behind the office.

I chucked my box on the 'outgoing' cart and turned to leave.

"Come on, Des, let's go." She stood in the opening for a moment, taking in the hustle and bustle, before turning to catch up.

"What were they doing?" she asked.

"They were getting the boxes ready to go to the person they're for. All of those boxes have to go to someone, so they sort them and get them on the right trucks to drive that person's work or home."

She paused for a bit, a thoughtful sort of pause.

"How do they know where the boxes are supposed to go?"

Just some links for a Monday morning:

The Brunching Shuttlecocks build some homunculi. I love homunculuses.

I contributed to the Mirror Project again yesterday. All of my contributions can be seen here.

I like these guys - lots of funny photoediting and flash animation. Plus, make sure you sign up for the B3ta newsletter!

And, finally, this made me laugh out loud. I'm not sure why. Non sequitur absurd humor just strikes a chord with me.


Destiny's fortune cookie approves of masturbation -- hooray!

also see the communist fortune from last year)

Derek Recommends:

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