magpie's nest of shiny objects

2004-10-19 13:05

Dramatis Personae

Magpie (or Ms. Nest if you're nasty). Your hostess. Thirtymumble-year old sysadmin at one of the last of the Internet startups, herein referred to as bigwannabe.com. Bay Area born and raised and excessively proud of being one of the few natives around here. Has many interests and little attention span.
TheBoy, Magpie's partner in crime. He doesn't exactly approve of the diary thing. He makes occasional appearances here, essentially as a Greek chorus of snark. Referred to as TheBoy because of...
TheCat, Magpie's foul-tempered little calico. TheBoy is the center of her universe, and while she hates and/or fears most everyone else, she moons around after TheBoy, gazing at him with fatuous, drooling adoration. Also has an intense, inexplicable thing for closets.
Sweetcheeks, Magpie's baby brother, recently engaged to Turtledove. The happy couple is collectively referred to here as the Best Hope for Grandchildren or BHGs, since all of the parents involved (Mom, Dad, Turtlemom and Turtledad) feel the next generation is way overdue. They have many fine qualities other than being engaged, but until September 2005 or so nothing else will be relevant to most people around them, poor fools.
Other members of the Nest family include Turtlesis, Aunt Slappy and Aunt and Uncle Jesus.
Redneck Geek and MedGirl, formerly (and unimaginatively) known as S. and A. When I refer to our biker trash friends, these are the first two I think of. Grossing out Redneck Geek is always a major coup.
Mad Scientist, kidnapper of gnomes.
Various other friends, most of whom I've known since I was a kid. Is that scary or what?
The A's, who break my heart into tiny pieces each fall when they make it to the playoffs and collapse in the first round.
Mayberry, my hometown, site of my disgustingly wholesome childhood and where my parents still live. When new people see it, they expect sprites and unicorns to come flouncing out of the forest, or Opie to walk up the road from the fishing holler toting a rod. It's about a half hour from...
El Suburb , the weird, antiquated town in which TheBoy and I now make our home. Everything was built in the 50s and most of the residents, it seems, moved in then and never left. Having a fake name for our town is almost pointless, because even people in the Bay Area don't really know where it is.
The one loyal reader, a "student" at Napa State. His naivete about the real world and undemandingly low standards in literature are a daily inspiration for this diary.

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