shades of red

1) Yes, as some of you who've passed me in the halls have pointed out, my optic blasts are... strobing. It's a new one on me, too.
2) Since it doesn't actually hurt and the glasses are still holding them back just fine, no, I am not planning to cut back on the time I'm spending on Boiler Beach. Boiler Beach is a happy place. I like it. And it has a plug for my laptop, too, so it's not like I can't pretend I'm in my office.

I'm still getting to classes and training sessions and the like all right, so I figure if I want to spend a good chunk of the rest of the time enjoying our little basement paradise, I'm entitled. So there.

But I've got to give a big thumbs-up to Boiler Beach. Jamie, this is definitely one of your better ideas.

It's funny, but I feel a little too energetic after having been down there for an hour or so. Or maybe not so funny - I do absorb sunlight to power my optic blasts, after all. I just didn't think I'd get the same effect with non-natural sunlight. I suppose it would be bad to sit down there all night or something and see what I felt like in the morning?

I'll just be over here hiding from Ororo, since I seem to have slept all night rather than coming back to relieve her in four hours like I was supposed to. 'Ro, don't kill me? I had my alarm set and everything but I guess I shut it off in my sleep. Which is not at all like me. Good grief.

All of you in my engineering class will be thrilled to know that I've decided not to give you a pop quiz this afternoon. I think instead, I'll take you on a very short field trip. Down to the hangar. Sound like fun? And then maybe I'll let you out early. Too nice a day to be inside.

Oh, and before I forget... anyone going into the city this afternoon or evening? I need a ride to go pick up my bike.

Let's see if I make more, or less sense sober and broody than I do drunk. Should be a toss-up, I think.

I'm not going to do the apology-reiteration thing, folks, don't worry. I've had a good twenty-four hours of enthusiastic self-flagellation, and while I can't honestly say that I have it out of my system... well, I can think, at least. (Mostly due to Alison and Paul, thank you both for enduring me today. Can't have been fun.)

I suppose, what I wanted to say, is that it means a lot to me, both the support and the being called to account. Okay, sounds really weird, I know, but bear with me. The support meant a lot because... well, it was support, even if I was determined not to take it, and even if supporting me caused tensions between some of you. Which I know damned well it did, and that's one of the parts of this that's still really bothering me.

Being called on the carpet meant a lot too, though. Twenty-four hours and a lot of hard thinking later, I can't help but think that maybe the... implicit expectations are good things. That they're not just standards I need to live up to as part of the job I do here, but standards that I maybe helped establish for myself, too. And that's heartening, in a weird way. You probably don't really want to know the details of the train of thought that led to that, but I felt like I needed to say it.

Okay, it's official. I made more sense drunk.

1... Always watch the tequila bottle. becasue its sneaky and rolls under the bed if you dont watch it. which is okay if its empty, except then you remembre you drank the WHOLE thing.

2../ The new celings are strange. Why?? ceilings shouldnt be strange. Give people complexes about them falling down. The sky is falling! Chickne Little. HIGHly underrrrated.

3... MORE beaches. Many many more beaches. Howre you supposed to be a crusader without beachs? Not fair at ALL.

4... i am VERY slow. no one's alloweed to snicker about it naymore. this is me saying Im SLOW. Okay?? Hah HAH.

5... I like Betsy. betsy is the best. doesnt care that I'm slow. She thinks its cute.

6... my name is NOT cAPtAIN fuckwad. Stop claling me that.

I think I'm in bizarro-world. No one's been drugging my coffee or anything, have they? Or slipping me a telepathic mickey? (Yes, Betsy, this is me looking with great suspicion in your general direction.)

Anyhow. Events have reminded me that I'm nominally in charge of making sure that people who are of age to get their driver's licenses are given the opportunity, if they want. Anyone interested?

Hank, I do hope you plan to patch whatever security hole was used to change the icons, as delightful as they are.

That aside, well done, whoever pulled it off. It does give a certain organized, coordinated feel to the journals to have a consistent icon theme. It looks very cheerful and orderly when I look down the journals and see all the clever little icons. I think it would be good for school spirit and morale if we left the icons this way, so I'll see about making sure of it.

[I wasn't going to make this public. I started to, and then I stopped, and tried to let cooler heads prevail. It didn't work.]

I'm not one for idle conversation.

I'm also not a person who speaks when they don't have all the information, and aren't sure of the situation.

Apparently, to some people at this school, this is the equivalent of treating them like children.

I guess I have been keeping secrets then, simply because I haven't been talking. I haven't been speaking up first.

I hereby apologize to each and every person at this school for my behavior.

I am not social. I am not a people person. Logan once said I was a dick. He wasn't wrong.

However, in an attempt to mend fences and in the interest of not alienating students any MORE, I hereby offer to answer any question put to me as honestly and truthfully as I am able. And tell you if I am not able to answer that. Even why, if I can.

It's a step. A step toward opening up. Toward not treating you like children.

Take it.

I apologize to anyone I've worried by my vanishing act. I needed some quiet and time to think, and as you all know, there is little of that to be found here.

I see there is a new addition to our crew. Welcome, Mr. Marko. You've already made great improvements here. Things that should have been done a long time ago. Thank you.

I have more to say about where I was and what I found, but I will save that for a post in another journal.

Betsy? Are you okay?