Rygel is now setup and running on the Celestial Cyberhaven's LAN. In front of the desk where I'm sitting, there is an expansive view of the Cherry Creek mall. To my left sits scottgalvin.com, working at his laptop while simultaniously talking on his cell phone.

Yesterday afternoon, we moved the bulk of my dad's possessions out of his Laser Fortress, and into the as-of-yet unnamed new place. Dad and I began at a leisurely pace, packing up the first load into the moving truck shortly after 12:00. It took us roughly 3 hours to fill the truck up. We weren't packing it tightly at all, but just randomly piled stuff up in whatever manner it would fit safely enough to weather a gentle 2-3 mile trip.

The new place, situated on the third floor, actually appeared to have more square footage than the old. However, his moving was motivated by the fact that the new place has a significantly lower rent. Low income subsidised housing, it is only available to those who can prove they are making $X income, where $X must fit within a range defined by the state as a sufficiently needy category.

The building and the area surrounding it was a relatively busy beehive of activity when we arrived at around 16:00. A bunch of children were playing in the grass outside. A couple of teenage girls wandered out to sit on the front steps and have a smoke. As we were carrying our second load in, the neighbor who lives directly across the hall arrived with 3 small children and a bag of laundry in tow. She (and her kids, ages ranging from 2-6 by my guess) were very friendly, introduced themselves, and held the doors open for us while we carried furniture.

Based on cursory glances at the people coming, going, and hanging around, I would guestimate that at least 90% of the residents are hispanic.

The outer door to the building kept swinging shut, and we couldn't find any rocks to prop it open. One of the girls who was smoking on the front steps adjusted her sitting position to lean against the door, holding it in an open position. This made getting stuff in quite a bit easier, and though I find the smell of secondhand tobacco smoke to be obnoxious when it's strong, there was enough breeze to dilute it so it wasn't a bother. Within a few minutes, she finished her cigarette, and continued to function as a door prop while chatting with her friend.

I know that making broad generalizations based on limited anecdotal experiences is a fallacial error, but I cannot help but contrast the overall behavior of people toward each other (and us) in this relatively poor community with my experiences in middle class lodgings, where for the most part, residents are content to ignore each other's existence except perhaps an occassional "hi" while crossing paths on the stairs. Is the difference due to class, race, learned cultural norms, or could it be that I've just been inhaling a little too much? (More on that shortly.)

While we were carrying loads in, I noticed that the teenage girls (the same ones taking the smoke break) seemed to be mediating in the affairs of some of the much younger children. My initial assumption was to believe that these girls were the elder sisters, helping take care of their younger brothers, which they appeared to be doing with a high degree of responsibility. I have been wrong before. Look closer.

My first tipoff was the way some of the kids appeared to be deferring to the girls in a way that I've never seen siblings relate (hard to explain). The clincher came when I heard one of the tykes address the girl who was acting as a door prop as "mom". She looked like a high schooler, and her kid 4 or 5. Do the math.

Knowing the fact that teen pregnancy in this country happens on a wide scale is one thing. Coming face to face with it is another.

[Much time passes. In fact, most of the day has gone by now.]

Where was I? It seems I have been saying that to myself a lot today. I'm now veering completely off of the narrative of this rambling, but I shall resume it a bit later, either in this or another rambling.

And after the episode of Angel I just watched, bizarre and unexplained chronological jumbling seems somewhat appropriate.

With the exception of a very long lunch eaten at an oddly decorated (but quite delicious) retro styled burger restaurant, Scott and I have been hanging out here at the Celestial Cyberhaven all day.

I think working directly next to scott in this manner requires a stack-like brain. Or something. A multi-threaded architecture maybe?

[Bitscape leaves again with scott to Whole Foods, where they acquire BBQ wings, salad bar salads, and macaroni from the ridiculously huge ready-to-eat food section.]

Oh my. I find myself in disbelief at this entire situation.

My life at this point is a bizarre juxtaposition of contrasted uncertainty in every direction. I think I rather like that. Breaks up the monotony of mundanity.

And even though I have left more than one narrative thread hanging in midair, I think I shall conclude and submit this rambling so as to have something posted before the end of eternity.

There are SSL certs to configure...