English mugs other languages in dark alleys for interesting words. Why invent a new word when another language has a word that will do admirably? Why take one word when you can take more than one with similar meanings, suitable for fine nuance?

I wonder which the English language purists find more annoying, the wholesale import of words from geek and computer user slang (such as "w00t", "pwned", and similar words), or the current craze in importing Japanese words? I'd suspect offhand that the geek words are actually more annoying, because they're often deliberately misspelled versions of English words.

The Japanese word that's transliterated "Yatta!" looks to fill a similar linguistic niche to the geek "w00t". It appears to be translated as, varyingly, "I did it!" "We did it!" "All right!" -- in other words, a fairly all-purpose exclamation of success and accomplishment.

If all of that is too modern or foreign, however, why not revive the noble "Huzzah!"

Cursed is my DNS cache, for it hath retained the wrongful IP address of http://scatoday.net, so that I may not view it without going through the trouble of going through http://www.anonymouse.ws first. Since the move of the site was yesterday, I'll probably be able to view it with no problem ... sometime this week. I rebooted, so MY cache should be just fine. I'm not sure what all else between me and them has to refresh cache, though...

I've evidently got a bit of a mission. I'm not entirely sure the extent of it or how I'm going to accomplish it, but ...

I need to reconstruct the shape of a mind that created a library. It's difficult to get to know someone after they've died. I didn't really see the need to know Misty des Etoiles et Starfire of Atenveldt until very, very recently. In October, she had been sitting comfortably in the category of "one of those people I suppose I'm going to eventually meet". In November, this abruptly switched to, "one of those people who everyone else knew who I won't get the chance to meet now". In February, it swapped over to, "one of those people you need to learn more about," and now, in March, the pressure is insistent: "Remember 'Milly?"

I remember 'Milly. I never knew her, of course. She was only the one true love of my first bondmate. She died in a stupid hiking accident. They were horsing around and she fell.

While my high school best friend and I were bonded, he held half my soul and I held half his, or so it felt some days. After she fell, when she fell, he shattered, and parts of me shattered with him. His grief became my grief, and to understand it and cope with it, I had to understand why he loved her.

So it's now not enough for me to merely know that my new bondmate loves Misty des Etoiles et Starfire with a passion that transcends death. Since the fact is skating just below my consciousness with every breath I take, I've got to start understanding it.