Dork, dork, dork

It’s midnight on a Saturday night, and I’m at a dork party I wasn’t sure I’d go to. It’s at a big house, and I’m one of thirteen in one of the den/living rooms. We’re all scattered about on couches, folding chairs, and the floor. There’s enough cable running around on the floor to, to I don’t know what. To put a small-to-medium sized business’s IT staff to shame. There’s much talk of browsers and xcode and extensions and so on and so forth. I donned my best dork shirt for the event (it reads /(bb|[^b]{2})/, which means something to dorks) and have already gotten a good cackle from somebody over it. I occasionally have to stop my diligent work to go to a terminal and type “iwconfig eth1 essid ‘bret’; ifup eth1” to get back on the network, because I keep getting dropped. The other den full of people is apparently more social than my room, which is full of relatively quiet people. I’m probably the quietest. It’s not nearly as painful as it could be. If only I could get this makefile to work blah blee bloopety blooblah.

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