Sydney, 10:14

Well, this daylog is actually my weekendlog. Given the amount of stuff I've done this weekend (or at least it feels that way!) I felt I should actually write some of it down!

Well, starting from after work, I travelled back to my place of residence to shower/shave etc, then into the city to my girlfriend's families pub, where my girlfirend was working. We were heading to Sublime@Home tonight, but the first thing I need to do was collect our "supplies" (read drugs) for tonight. One of our friends was at the pub so she and I headed down south to a McDonalds to meet my new dealer and pickup.

On the way down there, the top of my gearstick fell off. As you can imagine that was rather annoying as the underneath of the gear-knob isn't particularly smooth or designed to be used by itself. So driving around for the rest of the night was really fun. But anyhow, we met the dealer got our e's (2 blue four leaf clovers, 2 yellow four leaf clovers, and a spade) and headed back to the pub to pick my girlfriend up.

OK, fast-forward to about 2am. Were at Sublime I'm dancing, my girlfriend and A. having been having a good chat for the whole evening, and the pills are fairly average. A. has only had 1, and is coming down so about 3am we decide to head home. We wander back to the car, only to discover that it been broken into. Ack.

What go stolen

CD's times 3, bags times 2, my new sunglasses (given to me by my girlfriend). The contents of the bags were, A's new perscription sunglasses (~$US200 worth), clothes (~$US250), mobile phones, girlfriends pay (~$US100), key, and more. All in all we lost close to $1000 worth of stuff. Wasn't exactly the best way to end an evening, especially when everyone is starting to come down!

Now I was parked behind A's work, which has a gate which we locked behind us on the way in. The keys to this gate were in A's bag. Fun huh? I couldn't get my car down the gutter as it was was about 2-3 inches high and my car is lowered with side skirts. So the next 2-3 hours involved running around Darling Harbour trying to find security to let us out and reporting the stolen stuff to the police. Around 5:30 we finally got the cleaner the let us out of the carpark so we could go home. Yay.

Saturday

Saturday can be summerised fairly easily. We received a call from a security guard that the 2 bags had turned up, so we collected them (everything of value had been removed funnily enough). Then we went home and back to sleep, as myself and my girlfriend were working that night at the pub. So Saturday night arrived, we dragged our sorry asses into work for African Night. Suprisingly it was a very good night to work. Not busy, but enough people that you didn't get bored, we got more tips than we've every had before, and the whole place was so stoned that no-one was causing any trouble. Come 3:30am we were cleaned up and gone.

So, since Friday morning, 38 hours have passed. I've been at work for 16hours, partied for 5, sleeped 3. Hmm..

Funnily enough we slept fairly well on Saturday night/morning.

Sunday

Went to visit my girlfriends brother for lunch, then headed home. Around 8pm, picked up some more drugs (pot) put Contact on got stoned, then went to bed.

And now, here I am at work. Again... oh boy it been a long weekend...

Cooked pancakes this morning, and then I worked all day. It was busy, the time passed quickly, we got out late. Over nine hundred dollars short of making the budget for today – damn. No bonus for kaytay. Hopefully it’ll even out with the rest of the month. I always wonder though – how many people can buy dishes? Sooner or later, there will be no people left without service for twelve, and then Pfaltzgraff would go out of business. But somehow we manage to sell enough plates and bowls and soup tureens to cover several large dining room tables, every single day. I will never understand.

Went to Arby’s for lunch and had a French Dip sub and a lot of cherry coke. My aversion to eating cow seems to have disappeared over the past couple years. I still don’t eat red meat very often, or very much when I do, but a little is a lot more than none.

My mom called to say Crystal was home from the hospital. She hasn’t been home in months, at least. I’ve never met her face to face, but we have been writing letters for quite some time. My mom got talking with Crystal’s mom during my struggle with an eating disorder, but while I eventually recovered, Crystal is still in the hospital eleven out of twelve months of the year.

I just got home from visiting Crystal at her parent’s guesthouse. We talked about what it was like to be in treatment, and mostly about the staff at the University of Iowa Hospital. She was home for the weekend, and has developed a severe case of bulimia to top off her six year history with anorexia nervosa. She goes back to Iowa on Tuesday. She’s going to be committed. She has lost a lot of weight during her three day stay at home. When I asked if she wanted to get better, she said, “I don’t know. This is my life now.” I told her I had to get going.

Why can’t she see past the present? I feel so powerless. There’s absolutely nothing I can do besides that which I’ve done, and that hurts. I can’t stand by and watch someone die.

Somehow I think I offened my new girlfriend today, or at least dissapointed her. I let her read a piece I wrote and suddenly she flew away. My mental ramblings, my lack of vision perhaps? I never have understood my world.
A day of rest and coffee, cigarettes and words. A day of God and saddness. It's so hard to find peace when the rumble of the highway never ever stops.

I drank coffee and pondered my existence, and for one warm moment I was happy in my pain.

10 minutes before bed.... Great day.... for the first time in a long time I felt like I really belonged with my friends. I made them laugh, something I love to do. As always, but more so than normal, they too made me laugh, something I am deeply greatful for. My Brother went to the urgent care center, he couldn't breathe. Turns out he's been working with some hardwoods, of which the dust from sanding it inflamed his lungs. Anyways, got email to check before bed...
In all, this has been my best day in a long time.

-doug

p.s. ha ha, very funny.. thanks for voting this down to nothingness

Woke up around noon, put on some pants and went to check my email. Again, nothing. Yay... Then my new client messages me, telling me he's still waiting for the go ahead from accounting. I decided food would be good, so I put some bread and cheese (and sundried tomatoes and basil) in the oven, returning to e2 to node the 5th part of Faust. The phone rings, it's Andreea. We chat briefly, and I return to noding. Something smells funny. Retrieve charcoal from oven and settle for milk and cereal.

Around 4 P.M. my younger brother gets home and we head out to see The Mighty Mighty Bosstones on the last day of Bayfest. It is beginning to get cold, so I borrow my dad's $300 jacket to stay warm (and look good in case I run into that girl again.) We get to the show, and a band called Flogging Molly is playing. Some damn good Irish punk-rock. Everyone starts dancing, and some drunk jock-fuck who I could not identify decides to throw a beer at me. I shoot around, pick up the beer and look for who threw it, planning to return the favor. No suspect. Throwing the beer in the bushes, I go to clean the jacket off.

Eventually I meet up with Thad and Rob, two old friends of mine, and we fight our way to the front for TMMBT. As soon as they start playing, a pit starts, and a nice one at that. No punching or idjits, just pushing and dancing... Of course I get in it, and of course some two-bit fuck grabs the split end of my jacket and pulls... tearing it in half. The sad thing is that I didn't even notice, as I was pushed from all directions anyway. Regardless, the show went great. They played all their 'big hits,' and after getting to the front and yelling "Lights out" like there was no tomorrow, they played that. I didn't get to see that girl, sadly enough, and I'll have to foot the bill to get the jacket fixed... But I did set up a recording gig with a local guitar player. Life goes on.

It's half past midnight in Wisconsin. Just came home from work.

I worked 4 pm to midnight. I started driving to work around 3:40 pm but immediately noticed the rough ride. I pulled to the side, came out of the car, and there it was: a flat tire.

Normally I would call Allstate Autoclub. But this was Sunday afternoon in the Northwoods. The rules of emergency service in this town are simple: Don't let your car break down on a week-end. If you do, we'll be happy to help you Monday morning. Argh!

I called the guy at work to let him know I was going to be late. Then I called my manager at home, and got her answering machine.

So, I called Keith, a friend I can always rely on. His wife told me he was out of town.

I then called the big boss, the guy who owns the business I work for.

"Call a cab," said he. "I'll pay for it later."

"It's Sunday," said I. "And this is Rhinelander. No cabs on Sundays."

"Nonsense!" says he. Then he talks to someone off the phone. "My wife says there are no cabs on Sundays."

Isn't that what I just said???

Then he says, "I'll drive you to work, but not home. I'll be in bed at midnight!"

Hahaha. We both know that if I can't get to work, he won't be able to find anyone on such a short notice, and he'll spend his Sunday afternoon at work. (I work with the disabled, so someone has to be there all the time.)

"I'll drive you to work," repeats he. "We'll figure a way to get you back home."

So, I call work again, to assure the guy I was coming, albeit late.

I wait, and wait, and wait. Then wait some more. The temperature is 34 degrees F (1 degree C). Finally, 30 minutes later, two vans pull in. My boss's wife in the first, he in the second.

She comes out of her van, points at it and says, "Here's your coach. We figured this was the easiest way."

And that's how I got to work and back home. The life in a small town does have its advantages.

Good morning!

11:32

The day didn't start that nicely.

First of all, I slept for too long. again. Maybe there's something wrong with the alarm clocks. I got to start using that mechanical loud monster again if things don't get better.

Secondly, there was an one-second blackout. You know what happens when an UNIX box gets suddently rebooted...

...well, no data loss, everything is still fine. I hope.

Well, soon time to waste the rest of the coffee and go to the university...

15:15

'kay... spent time in Usenet and elsewhere telling about my ideas on how the heck to convert ANSI X3.64 codes (aka VT terminal codes, aka ISO DP-6429) to HTML.

Ideas To Stop Boredom: I will need to make - again, just for the heck of it - a toy programming language that is compiled to bytecode. I thought of making it something like Forth...

Got to find information about a Finnish computer language and node about it. It was based on LOGO and the commands were all in Finnish - it was for some personal computer (either IBM PC or Commodore 64).

18:34

Got my rump kicked all around the place in Battle.Net... the 0ldbies seem to be particularly whiny about newbies. =(

Oh, and checked out the other chat channels. Infested with spam bots and other crap. Can't Blizzard just kick those out? Do they care?

20:29

Brimming with the absent-mindedness:

"A notebook! Thank you, it's a great gift! Now, if I only would remember that I have written something down..."

- Gyro Gearloose

Well, that's what I feel right now... =(

I have noticed one thing: I form habits (or forms of working). Then, these habits are strong. Then, if they're broken, I get severe problems to get doing things like this again.

For example, I haven't written to my real diary since... ummm... April. Thanks to E2, I've kept daylogs - maybe I'll just print all these daylogs and include them to my diary. =) One habit restored. Good.

I wish I would be able to continue some other "good things". Like, playing more net games, keeping notes in notebook (Nokia 9110 Communicator rocks - guess what? I noticed I remember stuff better if I leave the "to-do list" open whenever I close it =)... browsing Velar... umm, all sorts of stuff like this. All interrupted at some point, and ought to be continued.

As I've often said, absent-mindedness kills. =(

23:52

Spent 3 hours in IRC with a guy who needed help, and that included 30 minutes of... khm... ::WWWWolf grins feeblely::

Oh well, I need to get up early and so does he. Damn, it's getting late already... I'll call it a day.

03:12

::WWWWolf squints and yaaaaaaaaawns::

<RANT>

I know, it's a bit late here.

Reason? Helix Gnome.

I wanted to try out Evolution ('cuz GnomeCal sucks somewhat). Turned out they didn't had a n33t apt-get line for just that program.

So, I downloaded a huge load of .debs. Installed 'em. It complained about dependencies. So I installed even more .debs. And then know what? Well, I had the core of Helix Gnome right here!

The result? Well, several and several megabytes of increased disk usage - all just to get Evolution running?

That's not all. Decided to see if GNOME's session manager would finally cooperate with WindowMaker.

Hell no. Windows kept respawning out of nowhere. In short, conflict with WindowMaker's magnificent SM and GNOME SM. No wonder they call it "SM". Painful experience. What happened to "window manager independence?" I ain't gonna install Sawfish or E, WindowMaker or bust!

Did I mention I have had that session manager problem since they started supporting this "feature"?

nighthowl:~# dpkg -r gnome-session
(Reading database ... 63710 files and directories currently installed.)
Removing gnome-session ...

Ahhhhhhhh... (In GNOME's defense, I must say this: "I wish solving MS product problems would be always that simple!" =)

Well, want my opinions of this magnificent new disk space eater, Evolution?

Well, confusing program. Mostly because it doesn't have a Debian menu entry (No, I don't use GNOME panel).

And when I start it from command line...

nighthowl:~$ evolution

** ERROR **: file dii.c: line 444  (CORBA_Context_set_one_value):
assertion failed: (!"Not yet implemented")
aborting...
Aborted

Yes, two and half hours of my life to achieve this message.

This is f*%&#@ing evolution.

Now where did I put my FiloFax...

</RANT>

(Don't get me wrong. I like GNOME and all usable and neat programs they've made, but some things they've made are are just... pathetic. However, I have High Hopes.)


Other day logs o' mine...

Noded today by y.t.: Teach Yourself "Hello, World!" in 24 Languages (some assembly for you youngsters =) FAS
Updated: session management

I told the other girl "I love you," today, and that's not a lie. I love her, and this is not changing my love for my girlfriend. My girlfriend is a wonderful woman, but it's as if my relationship with her has degraded to friends with benefits, albeit my best friend, but it still remains the case that I need something more. That might be cowardly of me, to not comprimise on my desires and needs.

Watched futurama today, it was the episode about the poplers or whatever. Funny stuff.

Read a bit of David Foster Wallace's essay on David Lynch's Lost Highway in A Supposedly Funny Thing I'll Never Do Again. Cool stuff. And more of Bitch: In Praise of Difficult Women. I think Elizaveth Wurtzel alternates between brilliance and insanity. Well, maybe I don't get it.

Tomorrow, I go back to work. Sucks.

I'm not entirely sure, though, what I need. Am I being selfish? Does my love for one lessen when I give love to another? I will think about it, but I'm beginning to think that I run on a different relationship OS called polyamory. Such is life.

back | days | forth

Distant and Cold or Scared and Tired?

For reasons that I shan't go into, I feel empty today. The garden is coated with dew, and the weeds are taking over, fighting with the overlong grass for supremacy. I can't go out there to fix it all, not only because I am a fair weather gardener, but because I am still recovering from this damned operation. It's overcast and dreary again, which really I should expect for October; where are the stunningly beautiful cold autumn days? I would almost want to go outside then...

Chores seem to be lining up in regiments against me. Paperwork, cleaning, recycling and laundry each has its own specific attack patterns and strategies to convince me that, really, playing Alpha Centauri or reading Foucault's Pendulum would be a much nicer thing to do. But I can't. The expense claim form is there, sitting in the corner of my eye under the awe 64 soundcard like a reminder that I still have to do this boring thing called work, that, yes, I still am a member of the human race.

I need inspiration for stories to write. Just short stories, a few thousand words. Can anybody help me? Just some characters, plots or situations? Please? my email address is on my homenode

There are so many small noises here in my little house: I can hear the tick of the clock by the dead plant near my kitchen, the hum of the computer by my feet, the odd tiny hissing of my refrigerator, the creak of this cheap chair I am sitting on and the flurry-pause-flurry typing on this ergonomic keyboard. Each of these seems to fade away into the background as my brain concentrates on more important things like replying to emails sent yesterday and worrying about seeing katyana in a couple of weeks time.

18 days to go...

17:05 BST

Thank goodness for Goretex

Well, that was a stupid idea: Lurching my way to the local supermarket on my crutches while it was raining so hard. Thankfully I had my orange waterproof walking jacket thingy on, which withstood the worst the elements could throuw at me. I bought a new CD of dance music and some Dr Pepper. Walking home with a six pack of fizzy dangling from one crutch was an experience I had allowed myself to forget - your arm gets tired very quickly and the bag keeps wrapping itself around the shaft of the crutch. Well, I survived my little expedition.

Hmm, typical: The rain has just stopped, 10 minutes after I get home. Well, at least this CD is OK for cheesy mainstream dance music.

Later...

It is The Ibiza Annual, a ministry of sound mix by Judge Jules and Tall Paul. It has all the mainstream favourites like Bullet in the Gun, Time to Burn and Zombie Nation... Tunes, every one, but so cheesy!

been workin in a coal mine, goin down down..

6a

work sucked. went to a restaurant after, jacob went to the wrong one, we didn't have cake and presents. happy birthday to david anyways. shannon got thrown out of haunt, too much drama. got home, was extra quiet, started taking my boots off and realized you weren't there. s'pose i took it for granted. damn.

7a

wish you were here.

Why can't all first dates be this good.

I went to meet a young lady Tyler this weekend, and all I can say is that this was prolly the best first date of my life.
We were able to be ourselves, we didn't hide anything, we talked about almost everything, it was a good first date. The trick is to get the next one to be an improvement.

My mother came to visit me Sunday, it was good to see her. We always have a lot of fun. We mostly baked all day long, yes a very odd task for a mother and son to partake in, however we really had a good time together.

Another day, another fight over. Oh well. Today it's about what computer I have delivered. Just like delivering babies, I guess. Screaming and crying into the world.

I didn't have time to play more with my new toy Nokia 9110, that'll have to wait until tomorrow.

Don't you hate daylogs written before the actual day?

Warning morose ex-wife lament below the rule
Damn, damn, damn, damn, DAMN, it's another one of those days. We all have them. Hell, I used to have them for no particular reason. At least now I know why -- painful pangs of longing for my ex-wife.

I need to get over this shit, but I wallow in it still. We've been seperated for more years than we were together now, but I still begin a lot of days wishing she were next to me. It's funny because I used to begin a lot of days wishing she hadn't slept with her piano player. Now though, I just wish she were here.

I try to make it better by telling myself I'm blocking out the bad shit -- telling myself that these are indeed rose-tinted glasses that give me the 20/20 hindsight. And they are.

It doesn't help.

This whole thing is really starting to fuck with me. My confidence is at an all time low, and for a chronic self-loather such as myself that's pretty phrackin low. I'm chicken and egged on the whole thing. Does the low self esteem stem from the loneliness and longing or vice versa?

Ahh, PHRACK! I don't need this shit on a day to day basis. I need to finish up my projects, to stop drinking, to find a date, to pay the bills, to install Redhat 7, to setup CVS, but I do not need to think, indeed to wish, for things that a) are not going to happen and b) would be Bad Things if they did.


trega I need a kick in the ass.

my dog. my poor puppy. i have such mixed feelings right now. this week will be his final. he can barely walk anymore. i am angry that he has lived so long -- that he is deteriorating but won't... but won't die. i get angry that he is making ME make this decision. but i know that's stupid. i feel so terrible. there isn't anything so catastrophically wrong that this is OBVIOUSLY the best decision. he isn't whimpering in pain. but he can barely walk. he cannot see or hear (but I carry him everywhere). he isn't eating much anymore and he seems to be having more and more problems pooping (he has a tumor on his anus). but he still seems to love having me hold him and pet him. he still sleeps dilligently beside me on the bed snuggled up with my teddy bear. he still follows me (he knows the house well and follows be my smell) everywhere i go. but at the same time as all these feelings go through my head -- i wonder if i am selfish to have kept him around so long. he's been deaf for well over two years, going steadily blind for over a year. he's had cancer for quite some time. he has a big tumour on his arm which he chewed on so much that we had to get a silly collar to keep him from doing so. i wonder if these things have made his quality of life low.

i don't know. i just don't know. i am sad. i have had this dog for 17 years. almost my whole life. when he first started to get sick my mother took him to be put down in 1995 -- i was living at college and when she told me i drove home and took my dog out of the vet clinic -- he was sick with bloody diarreah but was otherwise still healthy... i decided then i would never have him put down as a matter of personal convenience. i have stuck by that. in the past five and a half years since he has been messily-sick several times. dilligently i clean up after him, take him to the vet, get him some medicine and give him a good dose of love. but now that it seems he simply cannot go on -- i cannot help the thoughts that pop into my head. i won't have to steam clean every day. i won't have blood on the carpet and in my bed where he licks his tumour raw. i HATE having these thoughts. they make me worry that i am doing this as a matter of convenience but justifying it with his inability to walk, see and hear. i can carry him outside to go to the bathroom. i can carry him around the house and make him reasonably comfortable.

but i don't know if he really is comfortable or not.

i have made an appointment for tomorrow afternoon at 5pm to have the vet help me to be sure that this is the correct thing to do. i know it is not uncommon for people to put down dogs who have lost their sight, however for a blind dog he gets around the house reasonably well. but. i still feel. awful. simply awful.

this is the week of the danners -- dedicated to making sure he is as comfortable and as happy as possible. the collar to keep him from chewing his tumour has come off. he can lick at it all he wants to, blood on the carpet be damned. the collar was uncomfortable for him. he is getting the best canned food, heated up nicely and mixed with noodles. the electric blanket is his and his only for this week... he loves to lay on it's warmth. the teddy bear is now his -- i don't sleep with it, i let him curl up on it. i think he can smell me on it and so he likes to stay close to it. my bathrobe is now his blanket. i will be working from home to stay near him and comfort him.

when the time comes, he will be cremated (with all his cancer, he'd be an interesting disection for a vet student, but he is more than a dog and the idea of strangers pouring over him in such a clinical manner and with no awareness of the wonderful pup he was kinda freaks me out). i will get his ashes (despite the extra $190 cost of doing so) and the ashes will be mixed with paints in a portrait of him.

i feel like when he passes so does my childhood. like without him around i now have to be a real adult. i am tempted to have my teddy bear cremated with him. i am ready for none of this.

and in a lot of ways i feel retarded for being so affected by this. a lot of people would say "he's just a dog". and in some ways i feel like i should be more composed. but that dog is a symbol of everything cool about my growing up. i moved around so much as a kid that i feel like i have no real home -- but danny was always with me. this is like seeing the house you grew up in demolished. memories. wonderful memories just destroyed.

my biggest fear is that he will know -- i will take him to the vet and he will have an acute understanding of what is going on and that i made the decision. i have been calming myself by thinking this way: lately i have almost wished he would die quietly in my arms, comfortably and peacefully with me, the one who he loves (and loves him) most. having him put down would allow me to accomplish this, i would be able to hold him as he fell asleep in my arms. there isn't so much difference, there is a gentle falling asleep in a spot where he is most comfortable. i was feeling very calm when i first viewed it this way. but this image is shattered by the fear that he will KNOW. that i will see the sadness in his eyes as he falls asleep in my arms. that i will see a look that says "why'd you give up on me? don't you love me?"

right now i am completely non-functional because of the impending death of my dog. i have decided to do it at the end of this week for several reasons:

  1. to give me a chance to have a final week spoiling him and loving him and making myself a bit more comfortable with the situation
  2. to give my mother the chance to come down and say goodbye
  3. i have been wishfully thinking that he has been hanging on to his life because of how much i love him and how much i want him to live forever. i, in some ways, hope that he dies at home now that i understand that life is no longer very pleasant for him. i wish he could understand people-talk (if he could still hear). i'd say "it's okay for you to go now if you are hurting. i will be very sad, but i know you will still be with me in spirit because you love me as much as i love you. it is okay to go, you have two friends (pepper and bucky) waiting for you up there to show you around".
i was supposed to go skydiving on wednesday but i think i will cancel that in light of this situation. i think i will do pretty much nothing but focus on my dog. i want to make sure he knows that i love him. i want to make SURE he knows.

please forgive me the lack of links. i am writing in a rush to get all this out of me. this is both cathartic and upsetting. please, though it may seem silly, please spare positive thoughts/prayers for the dog, danny, that he isn't in too much pain. spare me positive thoughts/prayers so that i may have the strength to do what is best for the dog. thank you very much.

Today has been a bad day

Stress caused severe vomiting at work, luckily no-one saw. The problem with being the unoffical office moral booster is no-one expects you to complain. No expects you to play at office politics either. My offical job title has yet to be decided, 1.5 years after I started. It used to be developer, that was easy, everyone knew where I stood. Now it's either Internet R&D or Emerging Technologies, more of a function that a title. Aside from the R&D role I tend the code monkeys, running their 50 servers, guide my network minion on the rare occasions he needs it, and generally look after the office network, as I get to play R&D on it, like rolling out Active Directory so we know what we're developing code for.

Currently I'm looking at the mobile space. WAP, NTT DoComo/iMode, Symbian, Windows CE and so on. This is generally fun, I tend to attend a lot of bleeding edge conferences and briefings and steer the developers towards coping with the new toys that are becoming available. Except now a consultant wants to play. I don't have a problem with that, if they listen. The problem arises in that a customer wants to pick my brains. It's cool, they pay for half a day of my time each week and I go have coffee with them and steer their strategy. It's laid back. They value my geekdom. On top of this I'm trying to keep the sales staff briefed on the upcoming goodies. The consultant decided last week his niche was not enough. He wanted to setup a mobile strategy group. Fine, I don't mind technically checking stuff. But thats not enough. He scheduled a meeting on Thursday afternoon, the same time as I see the customer. I declined the meeting invite. He then sends an email asking why I declined (guess he didn't check my calender) and demanded I
a) attend his meeting
b) present an hour long briefing on iMode
c) run my work schedule by him, so he can approve whatever I do.
and he copied the technical director on the email. Well bugger me. I don't think so. See I have an advantage. The technical director is a family friend. I go round for dinner. I babysit his kids. His wife sets me up on blind dates. I replied sweetly, stating that customers are more important, and if he wishes to schedule my time here is my sechdule for the next week. It was broken down into 30 minute chunks. There is a lot on it. He walked past my desk on his way out, glared at me, and stomped off.

That was problem number 1. Number 2 was a designer, who decided to upgrade her operating system, without help. She hadn't backed up. She didn't know what NTFS was but thought it sounded good. Oh dear. Afternoon spent rebuilding a machine, as the network admin was building developer boxes, and it's his turn to play with new kit. I am nothing if not fair.

Problem 3 was despite daily warnings for a week that the scratch server was being cleaned down, 4 people didn't move their temporary files. They're gone. Fuck em. Well not really, but I said I could restore them tomorrow. Let them suffer.

Problem 5 was the corporate DHCP died at 8am, and wasn't back till midday.

Problem 6 was a raid array died completly, and I had to stay till 19:45 to get it back up and running. When I find out who configured as just striped they're toast.

Add on top of this rain, big puddles, large lorry, wet clothes I'm going to curl up and cry.

Oh, and my potential date is back from her holiday, but no contact at all today.

My ulcers are coming back.

Monday sucks

Four summers ago, peeking over the fence across the corner from my parents' house, I spotted a massive trampoline occupying the majority of the back yard.

Peeking over yesterday, it was nowhere to be seen, seemingly replaced by a long and intricate series of gradual ramps permitting the user of a wheelchair to ascend to the raised main floor of the house.

in our last episode... | p_i-logs | and then, all of a sudden...

OH MY GOD. I don't care what you say, WaveLAN ROCKS.

I am DRUNK WITH POWER.

Ahem. Wow. Let's see what I can think of to download...(My boyfriend can't decide whether to laugh at me or kiss me. I think he likes it when I'm geeky.)

My new job at the Oakland Museum starts tomorrow. I hope it goes well.
posthumous stumbles back onto the e2 scene briefly..

hallo y'all.

so, i'm back here, back at the wonderful university of michigan for the 3rd friggin year. continuing my pursuit of the elusive bachelor's degree, although it seems that i am working more at math than computers, since my math credits > eecs credits. fuckin pre-reqs.

so what has changed since the summer? i am noticing behavioural changes in myself. guess a summer away from home teaches you more things about yourself than you realize.

so... changes:

  • i am nicer
  • i am also meaner
  • i take being responsible much less seriously.
  • i study because i enjoy it, and because i recognize my purpose of being at school.
  • i'm on a cocktail of migraine drugs.

    YUM

today was normal, if not sleepier than normal. i am feeling slightly under the weather, hacking up phlegm and other nastiness. and due to the nation-wide flu shot shortage, i will be vulnerable for some more time. boo!

i am trying not to worry too much about my impending exams, on thursday and friday.

back in black

Today is day number 9972 since I woke up in Grace Hospital in the beautiful city of Calgary, Alberta, Canada. Of course, I'm not actually in Calgary to reflect properly on that. I'm back down in Sacramento. Again. Consulting. Some more.

I arrived at the hotel yesterday. I'm staying in the same hotel as the last times here, the Rancho Cordova Hampton Inn. I've been here so much in the last month that I pretty much know all the hotel staff. Well the desk staff anyway.

This trip I brought beer down from Canada with me for the hotel staff. When I gave it to them it was like a mosh pit, with all the staff trying to get some beer. I'm not sure if this is because they love beer, or becuase the love Canadian beer or if it's because they just love free stuff. The fact that I brought them beer also stunned them, as if no one has ever done anything nice for them. Maybe it's a Calgary thing or maybe it's a me thing, but it seems natural for me to give gifts. I mean, jeez, it's not like it's costing me much... perhaps $8 for 6 beer. Less 'cause I think some of the beer was leftover from my last house party.

Al also saw clouds here in California for the first time ever. And not only that but it's raining with thunder and lightning. The people around this office seem excited about this; for me, it's a rather common occurance. In Calgary they say, "If you don't like the weather, wait 5 minutes." 'cause it really changes that fast sometimes. In the span of a day in Calgary you can see rain, snow, clouds, blue sky, sunshine and maybe a full moon or something. It's a rather cool city to live in, honestly.

I miss home, and I've only been gone one day. Of course, I've only been back for two days out of the past 3 weeks. Nice.

I will probably commit suicide before I turn 22.

I wrote those words in my notebook some years ago. I turn 22 in two days and I have no desire to kill myself. Birthdays have always somehow marked a change in my life, either for the better or worse, though. Maybe it's because I treat them as most would treat the New Year, a time to change things, fix things, or as I have done in the past, to destroy things.

For nearly a year now I've been doing really well. Not quite stable, but who the hell wants to be stable? Such boredom! At least, though, I've not been a total spaz. Not feeling extremes is really unusual, though, and I sometimes don't like it. What have I got to write about when my moods are so mellow? Oh well.

I have the desire to stand in the rain.
Yawwwwwn.
Another lovely Monday. Lesse.. what happened today?
Class went well, even thought I didn't make it to the first one. I got my Premodern Japan test back todat, got a C.. Passing, but I should have done better. I still have that damn paper hanging over my head like a 10 ton safe. I've got a thesis and an outline but no actual content as yet. This is very disturbing.

And at work...
Finished the servlets that I've been working on for an Evil Client, only to discover that the HTML Staff hadn't bothered with reading the specification, and so the multi-page forms were not (multi-page forms). Guess who 'gets' to fix this lovely problem...they do.

No more Mr. Nice Developer.

Besides, I think that my lack of HTML skill is pretty much a thing of legend. Other than that, not a whole lot happened.

"Procrastination is my sin. It brings me naught but sorrow. I know that I should stop it. In fact, I will -- tomorrow!"
--Gloria Pitzer

It was just one of those weekends. You know, the kind where you say "I'm gonna get things done", but what you say and what you do are two seperate things. I went to a college where several friends of mine started going a couple of years ago. I was excited for the first time I can remember in several years. I remembered all the big trouble we would get into back in the day. My how things change! People change. Times change. Maybe I changed too much. Over the years I seem to have developed a tendency to find faults in people. Then if there is any possibility of conflict between us, I avoid them. What's wrong with me? Instead of seeing some of my best friends, all I could see was egotistical rich college boys. All they could talk about was how many times a week they get laid and how easy college girls are. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but it was so atypical of what I knew of them that I only saw them as some scumbag college kids instead of my best friends.

Needless to say, I had a miserable trip. They brought me to an off-campus party last night, which was kind of cool. I figured we'd talk some, have fun, and I'd meet some people. 5 minutes after we got there, they were nowhere to be found. Later on I found out that they had left to go to "another party". We were supposed to hang out today and go sky diving, but I left, figuring that they'd rather go muff diving. Not that there's anything wrong with that! But out of the time we spent together, I'd say that 10 minutes was spent reminiscing or talking about anything relevant. A disappointing trip, to say the least. I wanted to go sky diving!

So here I am again. Alone. Thinking. Staring at the computer screen. Waiting. Wondering if I should have just had a good time Pondering the existence of God. Looking at all the other things I wanted to do this weekend, but never got around to doing. Yep, it was one of those weekends alright.

"Sorry, suicide is not an option at your level."

Seeing as I've got nowhere else to rant and ramble about my ponderings, I'll declare it in my daylog. I will however talk about my rather banal day.

Hmmmm...well today is Yom Kippur and one of my friends was "observing" it. I'm quite proud of him (even though I have no reason to be), because he felt like wavering, but he did not.

I love that guy. I always feel bad for not being able to offer him anything or help him in return. Ugh. I guess I'm also saying this, because I think he'll probably be reading this.

Anyways, a few things in my mind. Everyday (including this one) lately, I've been feeling that I've no goal in life. I exist for the pleasure of others. Life is all about pain. Happiness is but a falsifying dream. I'm at school, I'm doing well in the Mickey Mouse classes and the hard ones like Computer Science, not too well. That's really getting me down lately. How all my life (well so far), I thought that Computer Science would be My thing, but it isn't. Ugh...

I've also come to accept that I'm ugly. I used to think (and I think this is my kiddie thinking) that because everybody had a girlfriend, that I would one day get one...and even when I knew that I wouldn't be able to get one, I showered myself with wishful thinking. Now, I'm convinced that I will shut down from all outside communication and suppress my hormones.

Man, suppression is what my life is all about. Suppressing anger, so others might be happy. Suppressing one's own wishes, so others might be happy. Suppressing one's emotions, so others might not be frightened by my bestial appeareance (I say bestial, because I want to be bestial).

And there are my friends. Some of them not caring for their families, drinking and smoking weed everyday. I could be like them. I was like them.

Today, my dad sprained his ankle and I had to take care of him. I love my dad very much, but for some reason I don't like to show it. It's a matter of manhood I guess. I spent almost all day trying to figure out this postfix program I have to make for Wednesday. I just bloody started to code! Ugh. Luckily tomorrow I only have an English and French class. No problemo.

I also watched Trainspotting today. I love Bigbie.

my weekend
       busier than the weekdays before
                 preparation for a big presentation!

researched moderist design
modernism is a very b r o a d category
spanning over 60 years  
in the accelerated era 
of the 20th century
including movements such as futurism and art deco
so much material
f            
i           
l          
t         
e        
r       
narrow it d
o
w
n

to something the client will like.

This client is quite tech-savvy, and I admire her. It's so easy to explain things to her. This makes explanations and discussions more focused on design rather than implementation. She is the kind of knowledgable person that doesn't second-guess my opinions.

The project centers around Thomas MacGreevy, Irish poet, literary and art critic. He is by definition and association a modernist. He is closely associated with T.S. Eliot, Ezra Pound, and Wallace Stevens, to name a few. I signed on to the project partly because of my personal interest in the subject matter.

Oh, but it is also the challenge of the work, to please the client.

E2-wise:
Edited/proofread some old writeups of mine, made minor corrections, mostly typos.
Added a writeup to Teach Yourself "Hello, World!" in 24 Languages, which barely borders on being a GTKYN, but the exercises proved too irrestible to pass up.

Crikey

This has been like the longest day I've known in a while. (And my first day log! whee!)

It started off well, as Monday mornings have been doing these last few weeks. Then since Jeana had decided to take the day off work we were going to go get something to eat. We just got out the door when I realized I didn't have my keys. We went back in and turned the room inside out searching, but to no avail. Finally I noticed they were sitting at the base of the driver's seat--in my locked car.

Strike one.

We called AAA and, they said a truck would meet us at the campus gate within a half hour. We walked out there and waited in the rain for thirty minutes, and the guy showed up. Soon we were in the car, and on our way.

By this time it was already 1:00 in the afternoon. We were starving. We found a litte diner on lakeshore. It turned out to be our plan B after the one we had originally aimed for was closed for Columbus Day. (Around here, that's known as Slaughtered Indigenous People's Day, but neither of us ended up going to class anyway.) We ate fast, and the food was good. The french fries were especially good--they reminded me a lot of McFries. By the time we'd finished lunch it was about 2:00. Jeana would be late for class, and explained that, with her teacher, not showing up at all would be better than showing up late.

After leaving the diner, we were both pretty thirsty. We ended up at Baskin Robbins', even though we were both stuffed. I got a mint chocolate chip shake, and she got chocolate peanut butter in a sugar cone. The got chocolate all over her face, too. I told her I like spending days at a time with her, and that we shouldn't let it end so soon. You know what they say about hindsight. I shouldn't say that, though. I still did enjoy myself all day.

Anyway, we decided to see a movie, and we decided to see it in San Francisco. We headed out to the AMC 1000, where we always go. We got there right at about 3:00, and all the movies started at around 2 or around 4. We had a some time to kill, so we wandered a bit. We came across a Universalist Unitarian Church with a banner saying they were celebrating 150 (or some other large number of) years of liberal religion. We didn't know what Unitarian meant, so we decided to go in and ask them. They were having some sort of private event there and someone suggested it might be appropriate to explore tomorrow instead. They just lost two potential unitarian converts, I guess! We ended up killing more time at Walgreen's and then at the Wherehouse. Eventually we walked over to the theater (crossing a very convincing(fooled me) transvestite on the way, according to Jeana). Anyway, we had already bought our tickets earlier, and headed on up the escalators to our theater. It was number 12, way up on the 7th floor. We got all the way up there and found our seats, and started to get comfortable. Just then an usher hurried into the room and in a raised voice announced "Ladies and gentlemen, I'm very sorry to have to do this to you, but I've just been informed of police action in the building requiring us to evacuate the entire building."

Strike two.

That whole process was an ordeal in itself. That building holds a lot of people. They'd promised us refunds for ticket stubs, but at the time we just needed to get out of the building. Getting to the car and then out of the garage each proved to be significant trials in themselves. Eventually we'd made it out, and still didn't want to go home. I mentioned that there was another AMC a few blocks away, and that we could try there. They might even honor our ticket stubs if we explain what happened here.

We drove over to the Kabuki theater, and found a great parking spot just around the corner from the theater. I grabbed three quarters from my ashtray, and we got out of the car. I put two quarters in the meter and tossed the other on the passenger's seat. We weren't the only evacuated moviegoers with the same idea, and thankfully they were exchanging free passes for stubs from the Van Ness theater. This showing was starting at 4:50, and it was 4:30 now. Perfect timing! We were seeing Meet the Parents. I'd made a joke about her saying how much her parents want to meet me.

We got inside, and I noticed it was playing in auditorium one, which has a balcony. It was roped off, but we went up there anyway. There was plenty of space--it was nearly empty, but for a few fellow rebels. We enjoyed the movie, and headed downstairs afterwards.

We both needed to use the restrooms, which were pretty crowded now. After doing my business I joined the ranks of other guys waiting for girls from the women's room. I'd been waiting about 10 minutes, and this guy standing next to me wondered aloud "what's going on in there?" At least we get to purge and then wait--they were still holding it while waiting in line. He appreciated my putting things in perspective, and just then his wife came out. He offered me good luck and walked off, and just then Jeana emerged.

We headed down the escalator and decided to find some food. It was clearly dinnertime, and we were in Japantown, so we though we'd find a restaurant. We didn't get too far--our hunger landed us at Pasta Pomodoro just next door. We were both trying to decide between the tortellini or the spaghetti and meatballs, and both ended up deciding on the tortellini. After ordering we noted it would have been better to have ordered one of each and shared, but the tortellini turned out to be really good, anyway, so we were both happy. Dinner was fairly uneventful, but nice. It was really nice.

We decided we'd go for dessert again, trying to remember the name of the rotating restaurant at the top of the Grand Hyatt. Her "it starts with an e" was enough to jog me into "Equinox!" I told her about the time we'd headed there for Julie's birthday, and they were all snooty and told us we'd each have to order something. The place was empty, and our group huddle decided to be bold and declare that we were ordering one dessert between the seven of us, or we were leaving. It was a sweet dessert.

Anyway, today, Jeana and I decided against it and headed to The Cheesecake Factory. The ultra-femme half of a lesbian couple composed of extremes pointed us in the right direction: Macy's at Union Square. We started walking towards the car.

Jeana was on my left arm as we turned the corner past the theater. I noticed from very far away that the window looked too clear, like it had been left open.

Strike Three.

I hurried my steps a little, and noticing glass on the floor, remarked "My fucking window's broken." I glanced in, crunching glass beneath my sneakers. I was glad that this had been one of the few times I'd locked The Club across my steering wheel. I noticed that the stereo was still there. There was glass everywhere, on the sidewalk, on the seats, on the floor of the car. I never knew so much glass would come from one little window.

I didn't know what to do, so I called dad first. I told him what had happened, and he just told me to call the insurance company and the cops. While the phone was ringing with the insurance company I noticed Jeana's backpack was gone. She had been ambitious enough to bring it to lunch earlier today, that I might take her straight to class if time was getting a little tight. I remember thinking on the way out of the car that maybe we should put it in the trunk, but I didn't say anything about it. The whole time, she was so good at making sure I was okay; she didn't even once mention anything about losing her backpack.

That she lost her backpack made me feel that much worse. She's always saying I take good care of her, but this violation struck deep enough to unsettle that as well. It sounds like chivalrous bullshit, I know, but it shattered the illusion that I could protect her.

Anyway, I spoke with the claims officer, who took a full report and informed me that they'd be able to send out a glass repair agent to my house to fix it within the next couple of days. That's pretty nice, at least. For the time being, Jeana rigged a sheet of plastic to keep most of the rain out. It was deafening all the way home over the bridge, but did its job. I had her sit in the seat directly behind me to avoid any glass shaken loose and blown into the back seat. She told me she'd already gotten a small cut trying to clean out some of the glass from the passenger's seat while I was on the phone.

I dropped Jeana off at her place, and headed home. By now the plastic was giving way and it was getting louder and windier in the car. It was also getting later, colder, and wetter. All that on the way back across highway 13 without Jeana there to keep my spirits up for was enough to get me pretty down on the universe by the time I got home.

I headed inside in search of trash bags and tape in hopes of a slightly better solution to keep the rain out overnight. I went into the kitchen, and pulled out a garbage bag, and then upstairs to get a roll of tape. Coming down the stairs, I explained the situation to a couple of my friends who were wondering why I looked so down, and what I was doing with that garbage bag. I headed outside and tried as best as I could to protect the car from the night's rain, and covered the car to try to keep it from attracting any new attention. Then I headed upstairs and called home again.

Yeah, I'm finally home, and warm. I taped up the gaping window, and covered the car, and I'm to call the police department's telephone report line during business hours tomorrow. I told them my whole story, of how bad today had been, and how one thing after another things just kept going wrong. Bad things come in threes, like they say. ('They' being the pagans.) I vented my ordeals to my loving parents, whose only response was "you mean you skipped class today?"

*sigh* ... when it rains, it pours.

This weekend I worked at the circulation desk, checking things in and out. Today and tomorrow I'm working at the reference desk, helping people find books, answers, web sites, and (ahem) "other duties as required", as the job description says.

Tonight those "other duties" were pretty stressful. Two library users nearly got into a fight over a computer they both wanted to use. She was running a little late at the end of the time slot she'd signed up for, through no fault of her own (the printer had run out of paper). He wanted her off the computer NOW.

She said he had grabbed her in an attempt to remove her from the computer. I didn't see it, but of course I asked if she would like to file a formal complaint, or speak to the police about it. He said, of course, that he would never touch that so-and-so, and they laid into each other with a few insults before they both turned back to me and insisted I pick a side and declare who was right and who was a lousy so-and-so.

Well, I let them both tell me about the situation and I offered to let them both file an incident report, and that seemed to get them in a less violent mood. I felt really bad for her, since she was visibly shaken and seemed near tears or violence or both. A few teenagers who saw the whole thing told me later that it was mostly his fault. (I certainly would have preferred if he'd asked for help instead of trying to physically dislodge her.)

Aside from that, it was a quiet night -- a question about Native American spirituality, a question about durable power of attorney, and a really interesting (and extensive) question about Florida plants. It was a homework assignment, and the kid's mom brought in the questions for me to help her answer. For about a dozen different Florida plants, she needed to know the kingdom, phylum, class, order, family, genus and species -- the formal Latin names. It was a trick question, since plants don't have a phylum, they have a "division", but it was great fun finding the answers.

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