Subeta.com
Sent: 3:39:16 pm 8-17-10
To: Zenith
From: Subsonic
Title: Nero's Number - holy crap this is long!
Have you given up on the thing then? It's such a perverse, fun little code once you know it. I told you that the letters are random and stand for Nothing. Indeed they do! Zero's!! haha! XXD :)
I'm reading a book about the number zero. It is amazing. Three major persons and entities who held up the advance of mathematical sophistication, and thus the advance of science and civilization in history seem to be Aristotle, Pythagoras, Rome/Christianity: They all wrongly abhorred zero.
Without an Aristotle, I think someone else may have done and taught as he did, as Aristotle was merely a symptom of a society who refused to let go of old beliefs to learn new ones, to grow.
Pythagoras seems unique, both a creator of a new way of thought and a severe repressor of anything that threatened his teachings, such as irrational numbers or using zero as a number, because his belief system, a literal cult religion based on thoughts drawn from mathematical/numerical concepts, would fall apart if zero and its implied opposite, infinity, were allowed to become any part of mathematics or philosophical thought.
Rome swept across vast spaces like a plague, eventually bringing the superstitious mind-killing fever of Christianity with it. Rome played a starring part the creation of The Dark Ages.
In society after society, and for century after century, religious belief, superstition and men's pride halted the introduction of zero to the number system and hence advances in philosophical thought, stunting the development of modern mathematical sophistication and the advance of science. Why are old beliefs such precious things?
Oh, BTW, the zero's in my code, "Nero's Number," are important to the code. The letters are just a distraction. I just modified my code yesterday to hide the fact that there were only five digits used - I would include the digits 6-10 in with the letters which masked the zero's and introduced noise. The decoder would know that digits 6-10 had no more bearing than the letters and in fact were also to be used to mask zero's and note their places with the "real" digits 0-4. If A = 001 and Z = 101, you have "ZAZZ" as 101001101101. With zero's masked: 1q1H811p119V. Usually other letters would appear and the 1's wouldn't be so prominent. Any letter at all, and any number over 4 always stands to mark a zero. The word "ZAZZ" looks binary in 1's and 0's but don't let it fool you. Don't worry, if you figure out my code, and I hope you will, I won't be putting you through it all of the time. I use a period at the end of each sequence of coded letters that spell a word.
Here's a phrase to play with: A236z1823891.b22736x42M18934.166b3cW41.
Write out. Replace all letters and all numbers 6-9 with zero's. Seperate each sequence of three digits with a slash and decode by .... how much do you wnt to know about Nero's Number? I can just tell you how to use them if you want, but this is a good start. Nero's Number indeed. Crazy Ass Code. I LOVE that. I love codes, except when I can't figure them out, that is! LOL. I'm not trying to torture you, I promise! XXD Nero's Number is Zero, how many moves he had left once Rome was in flames. Nero was also thought to be crazy, and his name rhymes nicely, huh? The zero's are key ingredient, and are almost impossible to detect, excluded from the number line as in so many times and places, either from ignorance or fear. If faced with a professional code cracker, I would remedy the startling absence of zero's (because they are all masked) and actually allow unmasked zero's fom place to place. As an amateur, however, I prefer to leave it as it is. It's almost poetic. I'm quite proud of it. Think I'll go put it in G Forces in an Elevator, my blog. Later, dude!
-- POF QSPVE NBNB. Love!
(TIFJMB) tiff' jamb. Like "stiff lamb." eeeeewe! :/ XXD
Tiffany Jamb. :)
my next "secret identity" is brewing.....just having fun here......!
(hehe!)....
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Saturday, August 14, 2010
Unbridled Chaotic Glory?
THE PURPOSE OF THIS BLOG: STRAY BULLETS
I envisioned putting together a crazy-quilt work of pieces of this and that, a montage of experience from the point of view of Time, Setting, Language, Gender, Age, Race, Religion, Etc, echos of a self that some could identify with or be interested to learn about. I have no idea how I will organize my material, nor do I know what my material should actually be. I am like many in that I am constantly writing things, commenting online, sending and receiving e-mail, etc and I thought, what delicious scraps of a human life? What would it be like to preserve them if not for literature, then for history?
I hope that composing and preserving such a work as I envision Stray Bullets to possibly be, when I do envision it, (about 300 pages, collection of short bits here and there with some theme after I truly find it), is only a venial sin, just me creating even more literature in an over-populated world of aimlessly flying yet completely unavoidable packets of information, random literature, complicated microwave ovens, 53-button remote controls, and families of pink flamingos. Flamingo-Crossing. Warning, Achtung, Cuidado! My favorite aimless bit of garbled information has to be a yellow traffic sign in a neighborhood: Slow Children Playing. Well, I think we should grant the last one credit for being pretty hilarious. Hilarious information is ok, then, right? The problem is figuring out which is more hilarious, my grocery list or my Walgreens receipt from last year? Maybe those slow children would know. Maybe they just don't run fast? Well, whoever these slow children are, someone did find the time to post a piece of information up to try to look out for their well-being. Our glut of information is so bad that we had to make it illegal to post signs on telephone poles. This being yet another blanket of totally useless information might be criminal if it were ever noticed, but therein lies my salvation. I'm pretty sure I'm SAFE.
I don't touchtype and I often filp letters in wrods. One might think that after seven years spent earning my four-year college degree from a respectable college which pushed writing, well, you'd think that I should be able to touch-type by now! No can-do. I always prepared my focus, done my research, made careful notes, problem-solved, brain-stormed, digested my material, then I spit them out onto my computer screen with a vengeance, well, sometimes. I liked most to work straight out of my mind with rare visits back to notes for references, facts, etc. How my fingers flew! BUT, I kept my eyes on the keys, too. I glanced keyboard to screen, screen to keyboard. If I lose reference of sight of my keyboard, it's like my fingers just plain forget where any of the letters are in the qwerty arrangement.
I flun ked out of typing the day we introduced F to ASS. I failed 10-key as well. No can do, says my brain. I says, can do in my own way, just don't ask me to type up copy. It's slow-going utter misery, with losts of mistakes.
Well things are as they are, and I am probably committing the crime of the century by creating my own little brand of a mostly useless particular information packet - but I will likely never be caught, and if I am, (which I won't), maybe the cops might be having problems with those damned Flamingo's again. Ya think?
This is the best I could come up with once I sat down. It took me a very long time. I deleted a lot. I repaired lsots of scre-ups. Hopefullly I got them lla.
Dyslexics of teh world, Untie!! I've not ever been diagnosed, but I have to wonder. I'm sure I have ADD, for example, and have had it for all of my life. Hmm.
Now, when I go back to read this, will it carry back to me some clue of why I wrote it or how it might be helpful to me as a unifying game plan for this project? Maybe randomness and such would itself be the theme. Revel, then, in your messy desk; celebrate it in all its unbridled chaotic glory!
Well, that last bit was rather cheery, and so far quite on-topic.
--Danielle
I envisioned putting together a crazy-quilt work of pieces of this and that, a montage of experience from the point of view of Time, Setting, Language, Gender, Age, Race, Religion, Etc, echos of a self that some could identify with or be interested to learn about. I have no idea how I will organize my material, nor do I know what my material should actually be. I am like many in that I am constantly writing things, commenting online, sending and receiving e-mail, etc and I thought, what delicious scraps of a human life? What would it be like to preserve them if not for literature, then for history?
I hope that composing and preserving such a work as I envision Stray Bullets to possibly be, when I do envision it, (about 300 pages, collection of short bits here and there with some theme after I truly find it), is only a venial sin, just me creating even more literature in an over-populated world of aimlessly flying yet completely unavoidable packets of information, random literature, complicated microwave ovens, 53-button remote controls, and families of pink flamingos. Flamingo-Crossing. Warning, Achtung, Cuidado! My favorite aimless bit of garbled information has to be a yellow traffic sign in a neighborhood: Slow Children Playing. Well, I think we should grant the last one credit for being pretty hilarious. Hilarious information is ok, then, right? The problem is figuring out which is more hilarious, my grocery list or my Walgreens receipt from last year? Maybe those slow children would know. Maybe they just don't run fast? Well, whoever these slow children are, someone did find the time to post a piece of information up to try to look out for their well-being. Our glut of information is so bad that we had to make it illegal to post signs on telephone poles. This being yet another blanket of totally useless information might be criminal if it were ever noticed, but therein lies my salvation. I'm pretty sure I'm SAFE.
I don't touchtype and I often filp letters in wrods. One might think that after seven years spent earning my four-year college degree from a respectable college which pushed writing, well, you'd think that I should be able to touch-type by now! No can-do. I always prepared my focus, done my research, made careful notes, problem-solved, brain-stormed, digested my material, then I spit them out onto my computer screen with a vengeance, well, sometimes. I liked most to work straight out of my mind with rare visits back to notes for references, facts, etc. How my fingers flew! BUT, I kept my eyes on the keys, too. I glanced keyboard to screen, screen to keyboard. If I lose reference of sight of my keyboard, it's like my fingers just plain forget where any of the letters are in the qwerty arrangement.
I flun ked out of typing the day we introduced F to ASS. I failed 10-key as well. No can do, says my brain. I says, can do in my own way, just don't ask me to type up copy. It's slow-going utter misery, with losts of mistakes.
Well things are as they are, and I am probably committing the crime of the century by creating my own little brand of a mostly useless particular information packet - but I will likely never be caught, and if I am, (which I won't), maybe the cops might be having problems with those damned Flamingo's again. Ya think?
This is the best I could come up with once I sat down. It took me a very long time. I deleted a lot. I repaired lsots of scre-ups. Hopefullly I got them lla.
Dyslexics of teh world, Untie!! I've not ever been diagnosed, but I have to wonder. I'm sure I have ADD, for example, and have had it for all of my life. Hmm.
Now, when I go back to read this, will it carry back to me some clue of why I wrote it or how it might be helpful to me as a unifying game plan for this project? Maybe randomness and such would itself be the theme. Revel, then, in your messy desk; celebrate it in all its unbridled chaotic glory!
Well, that last bit was rather cheery, and so far quite on-topic.
--Danielle
Friday, August 6, 2010
1st Letter to Dad in a Year?
Hi, thanks for all your forwards, sure they all are lovely, meaningful or funny. I have trouble keeping up with my e-mail, not because of my millions of fans, but because I don't have a concept for "routine," and therefore fail to check my e-mail daily, thus procrastinating with a growing sense of dread until I have at least 300 messages waiting for me, lurking, hoping to delay me for hours. Because of procrastination, lack of routine and said millions of fans, my mailbox fills up and I have to frantically unsubscribe, move things to folders and delete, delete, delete.
That all said, I think routine means facing up to my mailbox daily, maybe in the morning, rather than let procrastination and time set up my mailbox as a dreaded booby-trap of a flood of stuff I can't deal with.
I cleaned my mailbox ruthlessly a day or two ago. I checked it first thing this morning. I even opened your latest FW. I have to admit that I have a folder with 131 of your FW's in it, waiting for me to open when I can enjoy them. I love your sense of humor and I put up with your political views. When I think of you, I get a mental image of you, much younger, in a good mood and laughing at one of your own jokes, a thing you do, and you are really laughing hard, with the heels of your hands kind of hitching up your pants or maybe just on your hips, and you are leaning backwards. I used to hate it when you did this, but that was when I was also sure that the entire world was staring at me if I had a run in my stockings. I think of it now fondly as just one of your little quirks that helps make you who you are, an individual, and the thought occurs to me that it's nice to remember you this way because I like to think of you being happy. I like to think of you being syrupy with Melodi, and seeing the smile on your face because you are so happy to be with her; you finally found a NICE lady who helps make you happy. I hope your lifestyle also helps keep your personal demons away. We all have them, some more than others.
Thinking about one's personal demons, I've pondered the difference between the brutal kind of honesty I was initially raised with, under you and Brenda, and the fake cheerfulness I perceive in strangers who also have good social skills and a little more success in life than some of us. I used to think it was repulsive, but then I was too often miserable and sometimes forgot was cheerfulness was, and I was pierced through and through with malice and envy of people who were born with better lots than me. Thing was, I wasn't aware of my underlying negative feelings for people luckier and better socialized, nor did I really try to wrap my head around the artificial cheer. Why be a fake? Is a social lie acceptable when the alternative is to bash someone's feelings through and through? What if the person never needed to know something that they only thought they needed to know? I pretty well settled the social lie issue as being somewhere between Brenda's complete lack of social skills and Kathy's saccharine CRAP. (She was such a liar).
One day I began to really wrap my head around the social role of the false cheer. I came up with some surprising answers. I can explain another time, but I summed it up thus, "Sometimes 'Hello' is a good deed." I'd rather avoid spreading sorrow with a small forced smile, a nod, and a, "I'm fine, and you?" than launch into something unpleasant or sad or fail to answer much at all. I try to keep my personal sorrows reserved to myself, quarantined except for certain times and with certain people. Mood is contagious. No one is exempt from pain. Suffering is a part of the human condition. We function best when content, when happy. I like to think that learning to pretend cheer with strangers and associates is justified by the good it can do. I think it's a learned skill, and difficult. I think it can help one with the more fleeting kinds of unhappiness.
You have my essay of the day, dear Father. I never mean to, but I go off on tangents.
I meant to respond to your Forward RE: 2nd Amendment. I may otherwise be a flaming liberal, but I'm VERY certain that we all should have guns. We should all learn a healthy respect for the "unloaded" gun, to avoid killing our fool selves, or worse. You taught me that. We should all learn how to store, use and maintain our weapons. This is best passed down through generations. Guns have a place in a civilized society, and if we all were required to carry small-caliber damage-inflicting arms at our hips and allowed duels and self-defense, perhaps our cops would have easier jobs. There are places where inflicting death on one's violent attacker is treated as murder. This, of course, is LUDICROUS, and works to stymie victims, imprison innocent people and clog our justice system. If an attacker has a potentially lethal weapon or is bigger, stronger or attacks suddenly by surprise, wouldn't it be nice to be able to shoot his ass? Dead violent criminal. Live citizen. The suppression of our right to bear arms has seriously impinged on our ability to do so safely and responsibly. We act like fools with our guns, when society is reduced to the lowest common denominator, and it would be dangerous to suddenly promote gun ownership and rights, because the owners would be fools who shot themselves, left their guns to be reached and played with by children, and who believed in the existence of the legendary "unloaded gun." We need gun ownership classes and a plastic license/picture ID, minimum age 25 (after passing the use and ownership class) that permits one to carry a gun. Part of the class would need one to do target practice. (I'd worry about teens and youngest adults, 18 - 24, either shooting each other or getting shot).
This couldn't happen all at once, of course, but perhaps over a period not to exceed twenty years, handled not by Fed or State but by county level, nice and straightforward, cut some red tape. The Cheif of Police could coordinate, assisted by Sheriffs and Deputies. At first we would need a lot of extra detectives. I've done a customer service job, customer service WAS my job in the restaurants for years, especially at McDonald's. I've seen how idiotic people are en masse. That's one of my main concerns about arming individuals and the public. People would start shooting each other like idiots and criminals. Crime would surge, then steadily decline. Innocent lives would be lost, as in war. Overall, when we recovered, I think we'd be a safer, more civilized place. It might eventually be a Federal campaign to promote gun ownership and do public education, as an armed society is impossible to invade. Responsible gun ownership should be started in high school classes across the country. A required course. (Along with a bunch of other civic and personal health classes and life skills classes...in a highscool that skips Trigonometry and Calculus and goes to grade 14). I won't even begin my rant on public education! Another time.
Well, in my own complicated way, I'm saying that I couldn't agree more. We were to be an armed, alert, responsible, civic-minded society who would not be caught off guard, whether by our own government or somebody else's, taking our lessons from the Revolutionary War, King George III and our dads.
I'm embarrassed to admit that I cannot disassemble, clean and assemble a firearm. I can load a clip, and load a 9mm, and I'm a damned good shot, though I need more practice. I shot the guts out of a paper target at 25 yards once while at a shooting range with Monty. I think I'd get better if I could practice. I don't own a gun right now as I recognize that with my Bipolar Disorder and tendency towards depression and suicidality I might do something stupid. I might not. Perhaps I'll start with a Taser. Those probably aren't legal, either.
Maybe we are, as a society, over-legislated. I don't know. We once behaved responsibly, before the Industrial Revolution and rampant capitalism set in. Why can't adults act like adults anymore? There is missing a love for one's brother and a certain, solemn wisdom about life. We can't seem to handle ourselves anymore. A woman can't even slap a man's face for insulting her honor. A couple can't get in a scuffle once in a while, if it isn't repetitive abuse. Men can't just fight each other and then shake hands. We need more freedom so that we can learn to honor and handle that freedom. We can't shoot a thief with salt-pellets. We can't even swear on TV or radio, even if that swear word is a vital ingredient in a song. It offends some "sensitive viewers?" Sometimes "Fuck" is free speech or a work of art. You may disagree here, but I think that burning the Flag is NOT grounds for a Constitutional Amendment! At least we'd know who are enemies are! I'm not proud of our country every single day. Some days, maybe a lot of days, but not EACH day. We daily do awful things. Like suppressing 2nd Amendment Rights. Wow, I may just join the NRA. Don't tell anybody! (joking).
Well, this has been your once a year entirely too long letter from your only daughter. My little gal is doing well. We communicate online though she has to hide. She's 17. She's 5"9' like I am. She's a very beautiful girl, and she has a good head. We have similar views, though she has yet to mature fully. Don't get me wrong, she's mature for her age, but she's awfully young. She's a fantastic artist, better than I am, and she's beautiful, too, worth saying again! I'm hoping she'll come to visit during a summer break or after she finishes college. I hope we get along as well in person as we do online. I might try to get you a link to something of her online. I have to make sure she's ok with that. She doesn't remember you from the last time you met! lol.
Well Dad, I have 131 FW's from you in a folder. I think I'd better get busy.
Love ya, Sheila
That all said, I think routine means facing up to my mailbox daily, maybe in the morning, rather than let procrastination and time set up my mailbox as a dreaded booby-trap of a flood of stuff I can't deal with.
I cleaned my mailbox ruthlessly a day or two ago. I checked it first thing this morning. I even opened your latest FW. I have to admit that I have a folder with 131 of your FW's in it, waiting for me to open when I can enjoy them. I love your sense of humor and I put up with your political views. When I think of you, I get a mental image of you, much younger, in a good mood and laughing at one of your own jokes, a thing you do, and you are really laughing hard, with the heels of your hands kind of hitching up your pants or maybe just on your hips, and you are leaning backwards. I used to hate it when you did this, but that was when I was also sure that the entire world was staring at me if I had a run in my stockings. I think of it now fondly as just one of your little quirks that helps make you who you are, an individual, and the thought occurs to me that it's nice to remember you this way because I like to think of you being happy. I like to think of you being syrupy with Melodi, and seeing the smile on your face because you are so happy to be with her; you finally found a NICE lady who helps make you happy. I hope your lifestyle also helps keep your personal demons away. We all have them, some more than others.
Thinking about one's personal demons, I've pondered the difference between the brutal kind of honesty I was initially raised with, under you and Brenda, and the fake cheerfulness I perceive in strangers who also have good social skills and a little more success in life than some of us. I used to think it was repulsive, but then I was too often miserable and sometimes forgot was cheerfulness was, and I was pierced through and through with malice and envy of people who were born with better lots than me. Thing was, I wasn't aware of my underlying negative feelings for people luckier and better socialized, nor did I really try to wrap my head around the artificial cheer. Why be a fake? Is a social lie acceptable when the alternative is to bash someone's feelings through and through? What if the person never needed to know something that they only thought they needed to know? I pretty well settled the social lie issue as being somewhere between Brenda's complete lack of social skills and Kathy's saccharine CRAP. (She was such a liar).
One day I began to really wrap my head around the social role of the false cheer. I came up with some surprising answers. I can explain another time, but I summed it up thus, "Sometimes 'Hello' is a good deed." I'd rather avoid spreading sorrow with a small forced smile, a nod, and a, "I'm fine, and you?" than launch into something unpleasant or sad or fail to answer much at all. I try to keep my personal sorrows reserved to myself, quarantined except for certain times and with certain people. Mood is contagious. No one is exempt from pain. Suffering is a part of the human condition. We function best when content, when happy. I like to think that learning to pretend cheer with strangers and associates is justified by the good it can do. I think it's a learned skill, and difficult. I think it can help one with the more fleeting kinds of unhappiness.
You have my essay of the day, dear Father. I never mean to, but I go off on tangents.
I meant to respond to your Forward RE: 2nd Amendment. I may otherwise be a flaming liberal, but I'm VERY certain that we all should have guns. We should all learn a healthy respect for the "unloaded" gun, to avoid killing our fool selves, or worse. You taught me that. We should all learn how to store, use and maintain our weapons. This is best passed down through generations. Guns have a place in a civilized society, and if we all were required to carry small-caliber damage-inflicting arms at our hips and allowed duels and self-defense, perhaps our cops would have easier jobs. There are places where inflicting death on one's violent attacker is treated as murder. This, of course, is LUDICROUS, and works to stymie victims, imprison innocent people and clog our justice system. If an attacker has a potentially lethal weapon or is bigger, stronger or attacks suddenly by surprise, wouldn't it be nice to be able to shoot his ass? Dead violent criminal. Live citizen. The suppression of our right to bear arms has seriously impinged on our ability to do so safely and responsibly. We act like fools with our guns, when society is reduced to the lowest common denominator, and it would be dangerous to suddenly promote gun ownership and rights, because the owners would be fools who shot themselves, left their guns to be reached and played with by children, and who believed in the existence of the legendary "unloaded gun." We need gun ownership classes and a plastic license/picture ID, minimum age 25 (after passing the use and ownership class) that permits one to carry a gun. Part of the class would need one to do target practice. (I'd worry about teens and youngest adults, 18 - 24, either shooting each other or getting shot).
This couldn't happen all at once, of course, but perhaps over a period not to exceed twenty years, handled not by Fed or State but by county level, nice and straightforward, cut some red tape. The Cheif of Police could coordinate, assisted by Sheriffs and Deputies. At first we would need a lot of extra detectives. I've done a customer service job, customer service WAS my job in the restaurants for years, especially at McDonald's. I've seen how idiotic people are en masse. That's one of my main concerns about arming individuals and the public. People would start shooting each other like idiots and criminals. Crime would surge, then steadily decline. Innocent lives would be lost, as in war. Overall, when we recovered, I think we'd be a safer, more civilized place. It might eventually be a Federal campaign to promote gun ownership and do public education, as an armed society is impossible to invade. Responsible gun ownership should be started in high school classes across the country. A required course. (Along with a bunch of other civic and personal health classes and life skills classes...in a highscool that skips Trigonometry and Calculus and goes to grade 14). I won't even begin my rant on public education! Another time.
Well, in my own complicated way, I'm saying that I couldn't agree more. We were to be an armed, alert, responsible, civic-minded society who would not be caught off guard, whether by our own government or somebody else's, taking our lessons from the Revolutionary War, King George III and our dads.
I'm embarrassed to admit that I cannot disassemble, clean and assemble a firearm. I can load a clip, and load a 9mm, and I'm a damned good shot, though I need more practice. I shot the guts out of a paper target at 25 yards once while at a shooting range with Monty. I think I'd get better if I could practice. I don't own a gun right now as I recognize that with my Bipolar Disorder and tendency towards depression and suicidality I might do something stupid. I might not. Perhaps I'll start with a Taser. Those probably aren't legal, either.
Maybe we are, as a society, over-legislated. I don't know. We once behaved responsibly, before the Industrial Revolution and rampant capitalism set in. Why can't adults act like adults anymore? There is missing a love for one's brother and a certain, solemn wisdom about life. We can't seem to handle ourselves anymore. A woman can't even slap a man's face for insulting her honor. A couple can't get in a scuffle once in a while, if it isn't repetitive abuse. Men can't just fight each other and then shake hands. We need more freedom so that we can learn to honor and handle that freedom. We can't shoot a thief with salt-pellets. We can't even swear on TV or radio, even if that swear word is a vital ingredient in a song. It offends some "sensitive viewers?" Sometimes "Fuck" is free speech or a work of art. You may disagree here, but I think that burning the Flag is NOT grounds for a Constitutional Amendment! At least we'd know who are enemies are! I'm not proud of our country every single day. Some days, maybe a lot of days, but not EACH day. We daily do awful things. Like suppressing 2nd Amendment Rights. Wow, I may just join the NRA. Don't tell anybody! (joking).
Well, this has been your once a year entirely too long letter from your only daughter. My little gal is doing well. We communicate online though she has to hide. She's 17. She's 5"9' like I am. She's a very beautiful girl, and she has a good head. We have similar views, though she has yet to mature fully. Don't get me wrong, she's mature for her age, but she's awfully young. She's a fantastic artist, better than I am, and she's beautiful, too, worth saying again! I'm hoping she'll come to visit during a summer break or after she finishes college. I hope we get along as well in person as we do online. I might try to get you a link to something of her online. I have to make sure she's ok with that. She doesn't remember you from the last time you met! lol.
Well Dad, I have 131 FW's from you in a folder. I think I'd better get busy.
Love ya, Sheila
Thursday, August 5, 2010
Simple Ambitions, Neopets.com in 2010...
Dear Anj,
Need I say more? That's right, I'm on my way...towards the all-important goal of becoming a neo-millionaire. I think I can do it in a couple of months. 800,000 reads, "eight-hundred thousand" so I only need 200,000 more, two hundred thousand. If I were strict and won my guaranteed 6,000 NP each day I'd need 33 days and some change.
Once I'm a little over a million I'm going to take a break from the games and points-winning so I can play with the rest of the things in Neopia. I'm going to announce it to my guild once I've got the NeoPoints.
Why is Spellseeker's number game so ridiculously easy for me? Is it that easy to many people or am I just a freak? I have wondered the same way about many things in my past. Sometimes it was just easy for most folk, sometimes it was me. That's because of my mostly meaningless high IQ. Give me a brain and I take it out and play with it. Ho-Hum.
Taking a break from Neopia tomorrow to do household stuff. I REALLY need to get my act together...I need to think and organize my time, my house, my writing, Mensa, my GRE study, projects, all of it. MY real money, too. I'm a mess! (But I'm a Neo-millionaire to-be!) I also love you for no immediately apparent reason.
- Danielle
Need I say more? That's right, I'm on my way...towards the all-important goal of becoming a neo-millionaire. I think I can do it in a couple of months. 800,000 reads, "eight-hundred thousand" so I only need 200,000 more, two hundred thousand. If I were strict and won my guaranteed 6,000 NP each day I'd need 33 days and some change.
Once I'm a little over a million I'm going to take a break from the games and points-winning so I can play with the rest of the things in Neopia. I'm going to announce it to my guild once I've got the NeoPoints.
Why is Spellseeker's number game so ridiculously easy for me? Is it that easy to many people or am I just a freak? I have wondered the same way about many things in my past. Sometimes it was just easy for most folk, sometimes it was me. That's because of my mostly meaningless high IQ. Give me a brain and I take it out and play with it. Ho-Hum.
Taking a break from Neopia tomorrow to do household stuff. I REALLY need to get my act together...I need to think and organize my time, my house, my writing, Mensa, my GRE study, projects, all of it. MY real money, too. I'm a mess! (But I'm a Neo-millionaire to-be!) I also love you for no immediately apparent reason.
- Danielle
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