A bit ago, when Scott and I were busy pointing out the disgusting nastiness that we’d put up with the day before to Kathleen in our second day of the MS Project class, the organization that our department falls under was busy having an “all hands” meeting to discuss some organizational changes.
Because we weren’t in attendance, Scott and I failed to receive our special gifts that served as mementos of the meeting, so they had to be sent to us where we work.
Or rather, sent to me, as, for whatever reason, Scott didn’t get one.
In any case, the gift package consisted of an uglyish half-zip fleece featuring our company’s logo paired with the name of our organization and a book.
The book is one of those little guides to being a more effective drone that are dropped on employees like confetti and which sit unread and gathering dust after being received.
I, however, have actually been reading mine, though as near as I can determine I’m only doing so in an effort to infuriate myself, because clearly there just isn’t enough crap in the world that pisses me off.
The whole point of the book is an emphasis on “personal accountability.” It tells you not to ask questions like, “Why can’t management get its act together?” and instead ask yourself “What can I do to make things work more smoothly?”
The biggest problem I have is that so far he doesn’t seem to realize that it’s entirely possible that the answer might be “There’s not a goddamn thing that I can do that will change anything,” other then to make a rather flippant observation that if you don’t like the way things are you can always leave. Because, you know, it’s always just that easy. I guess that, like questions that start with “Why” or include “them,” a question like “How will I pay my mortgage if I just walk away?” would fall into the category of “Incorrect Questions.”
If the answer is that you are unable to change a situation, then the next step is to simply change your thinking about it. If something pissed you off and you found that there was nothing that you could do to change it, just accept it. Change your way of thinking about it. Again, just that easy.
Beyond that is the rather naïve attitude that if you just concentrate on doing the best job you can others will follow your example and all the way up the chain people will emulate your behavior and everything will be perfect.
Honestly, I can see his point to a certain extent. Sure, it’s true that you can’t really control anyone but yourself, and yes, even in the face of adversity and managerial incompetence your best bet is to just do your job, but he just doesn’t recognize that his idealized version of a workplace – complete with his heart-warming, but ultimately meaningless examples of people he’s seen taking personal accountability to heart – just does not reflect the reality of work life in most organizations. The fact of the matter is that there are going to come times when you have to cover your ass, engage in blame deflection, and just shake your head in helpless wonder at some of the mind-numbingly stupid decisions that are made way above your pay grade. And whatever his intentions in writing this book it’s clear that he didn’t consider – even though he makes reference to this effect to some extent – that the message that the management of most companies will use it to convey is that if you have a problem with the way management is handling things, it’s your problem and you need to learn to accept it and just do your job without complaining.
Speaking of management saying screw you to its employees, the latest accepted word is that the last round of layoffs for the year will occur on December 15th. That it’s so close to Christmas is bad enough, though it is SOP, as pretty much every year some lucky employees get severance packages from their Secret Santas, but the kicker is that our company holiday party is scheduled for the very next day.
That’s just cold-blooded.
Of course, I shouldn't complain. I should make sure to ask the correct question, like,
"What can I do to make it seem like it’s not in poor taste?"
Hmm....I can't seem to think of a good answer. I must still be asking an incorrect question.
Saturday, December 02, 2006
Friday, December 01, 2006
First (And Probably Last) Friday
So tonight I met up with Kathleen in downtown Leesburg so that we could walk around for “First Friday.” Basically, as mentioned, on the first Friday of every month the downtown businesses stay open later to give people the chance to walk around and browse.
I’ve never spent much time downtown, so I figured I might as well do this just to get a feel for what’s there.
Essentially it confirmed what I suspected: downtown is cramped and crowded, there’s not enough parking (I went all the way up to the roof of the parking deck without finding a space), and most of the stores are geared towards people who have more money than sense, selling various bits of the kind of useless crap that only rich, pretentious people buy.
Still, the fact that I went out, in my mind, counts as me going out and “doing something” with my time off.
It’s not like it was a horrible experience. In fact, I was kind of amused by Kathleen yet again forgetting that I don’t drink and that there’s a reason that I don’t drink as she led me into a wine store for a tasting. It didn’t bother me; I was never a wine drinker.
Mostly I found it funny that she forgot again and became apologetic when she remembered.
I did consider asking the owner if he had any California Cooler Original Flavor in stock.
I thought it would be funny, like the time that I was the only man at a party where most of the attendees were lesbians and I toyed with the notion of leaving the toilet seat up just to see what would happen.
But as I did at that party, I wisely decided to refrain from engaging in an act of guerilla humor at the vintner’s.
From there we went on to various cramped stores that smelled funny and were full of things that I would never buy.
The little pet store was the worst, I think, as I stood there holding my tongue as I listened to people talking about their pets in a manner that to me is indicative of mental illness.
The sign for the dog treats that said “No Wheat, No Corn, 100% Organic” nearly got me to break my silence, though. I mean, aren’t wheat and corn also organic? Are these three items meant to be unrelated selling points? It was unclear from the way it was presented and I nearly said so, but ultimately didn’t because I really didn’t need some crazy pet lady being offended by my sarcasm. Things like that never end well.
We stopped in a couple of art galleries as well, one of which had a lot of works that featured cats. Lots and lots of cats. I’m talking a bordering on fetish levels amount of cats.
Eventually we’d had our fill of walking about and were going to get in Kathleen’s car, which was closest, and drive somewhere for dinner. However, Kathleen had left the wine – with the owner’s permission – she’d bought back at the vintner’s with the intent of picking it up afterwards so that she wouldn’t have to carry it with her, and as we were walking to her car, a fair distance from the vintner’s, she remembered that fact.
She wanted to drive by and have me run in and get it for her, but I convinced her that a little more walking would be good for her.
The main reason she was reluctant to walk was that it was an unseasonably warm day today, with temperatures in the mid-70s. Despite the strong, gusting winds, it was still rather warm out, so walking was causing some sweatiness.
(The temperature has since dropped to the 40s.)
For dinner we at a “wood fire pizza” place. It was pretty crowded so we sat at the bar to eat. Kathleen pointed out that you could look at some of the people and just tell that they have a lot of money, like a lot more than either of us. Which isn’t to say we’re doing too badly and that department. It’s more a matter of them doing that well.
Of course, given the overall wealth of Loudoun County, that’s hardly surprising.
‘80s Rocker Look-alike Department:
Apparently the other night, with his closely-shorn locks, Brian made a move that made a connection in Kathleen’s mind, leading her to remark on his resemblance to a particular performer.
This result in me getting a text message from Brian saying, “Joooooon, Kathleen called me Midnight Oil because of my hair.”
I responded that personally I would have gone with “The Commish.”
I’ve never spent much time downtown, so I figured I might as well do this just to get a feel for what’s there.
Essentially it confirmed what I suspected: downtown is cramped and crowded, there’s not enough parking (I went all the way up to the roof of the parking deck without finding a space), and most of the stores are geared towards people who have more money than sense, selling various bits of the kind of useless crap that only rich, pretentious people buy.
Still, the fact that I went out, in my mind, counts as me going out and “doing something” with my time off.
It’s not like it was a horrible experience. In fact, I was kind of amused by Kathleen yet again forgetting that I don’t drink and that there’s a reason that I don’t drink as she led me into a wine store for a tasting. It didn’t bother me; I was never a wine drinker.
Mostly I found it funny that she forgot again and became apologetic when she remembered.
I did consider asking the owner if he had any California Cooler Original Flavor in stock.
I thought it would be funny, like the time that I was the only man at a party where most of the attendees were lesbians and I toyed with the notion of leaving the toilet seat up just to see what would happen.
But as I did at that party, I wisely decided to refrain from engaging in an act of guerilla humor at the vintner’s.
From there we went on to various cramped stores that smelled funny and were full of things that I would never buy.
The little pet store was the worst, I think, as I stood there holding my tongue as I listened to people talking about their pets in a manner that to me is indicative of mental illness.
The sign for the dog treats that said “No Wheat, No Corn, 100% Organic” nearly got me to break my silence, though. I mean, aren’t wheat and corn also organic? Are these three items meant to be unrelated selling points? It was unclear from the way it was presented and I nearly said so, but ultimately didn’t because I really didn’t need some crazy pet lady being offended by my sarcasm. Things like that never end well.
We stopped in a couple of art galleries as well, one of which had a lot of works that featured cats. Lots and lots of cats. I’m talking a bordering on fetish levels amount of cats.
Eventually we’d had our fill of walking about and were going to get in Kathleen’s car, which was closest, and drive somewhere for dinner. However, Kathleen had left the wine – with the owner’s permission – she’d bought back at the vintner’s with the intent of picking it up afterwards so that she wouldn’t have to carry it with her, and as we were walking to her car, a fair distance from the vintner’s, she remembered that fact.
She wanted to drive by and have me run in and get it for her, but I convinced her that a little more walking would be good for her.
The main reason she was reluctant to walk was that it was an unseasonably warm day today, with temperatures in the mid-70s. Despite the strong, gusting winds, it was still rather warm out, so walking was causing some sweatiness.
(The temperature has since dropped to the 40s.)
For dinner we at a “wood fire pizza” place. It was pretty crowded so we sat at the bar to eat. Kathleen pointed out that you could look at some of the people and just tell that they have a lot of money, like a lot more than either of us. Which isn’t to say we’re doing too badly and that department. It’s more a matter of them doing that well.
Of course, given the overall wealth of Loudoun County, that’s hardly surprising.
‘80s Rocker Look-alike Department:
Apparently the other night, with his closely-shorn locks, Brian made a move that made a connection in Kathleen’s mind, leading her to remark on his resemblance to a particular performer.
This result in me getting a text message from Brian saying, “Joooooon, Kathleen called me Midnight Oil because of my hair.”
I responded that personally I would have gone with “The Commish.”
And While I'm At It...
Since I'm posting videos, I might as well post this one featuring singer Regina Spektor.
I watched it the other day because Michelle Collins posted it on bestweekever.tv and ever since it's been burrowing its way deeper and deeper into my consciousness.
When it comes to music it's extremely easy for a song or a melody or a hook to imprint itself on my brain.
For example, after seeing the video for it exactly one time I got the "lalalalalalalala" from Kylie Minoque's song Can't Get You Out of My Head permanently burned into my brain, making me quite literally unable to get it out of my head. To this day, if you say "Kylie Minoque" at me, what do you suppose I'll hear in my head? I'll give you a hint: I'm hearing it right now.
That is, until I think about this:
Apart from the fact that part of this gets stuck in my head to the point of being maddening, I don't have any particularly strong feelings about this song one way or another. She's got an okay voice, and while it's kind of annoying, and maddening, the vocal hook is rather catchy (which is what makes it so maddening).
I have to say that physically she looks sort of like a combination of Tori Amos and Fiona Apple, but maybe that's just me.
In any case, here's hoping your brains end up just as full of her evilly-catchy chorus as mine is.
(Speaking of bestweekever.tv and posts by Ms. Collins, though, check out this entry. The clip itself is hilarious, but if you look in the comments, you might see a familiar name...)
I watched it the other day because Michelle Collins posted it on bestweekever.tv and ever since it's been burrowing its way deeper and deeper into my consciousness.
When it comes to music it's extremely easy for a song or a melody or a hook to imprint itself on my brain.
For example, after seeing the video for it exactly one time I got the "lalalalalalalala" from Kylie Minoque's song Can't Get You Out of My Head permanently burned into my brain, making me quite literally unable to get it out of my head. To this day, if you say "Kylie Minoque" at me, what do you suppose I'll hear in my head? I'll give you a hint: I'm hearing it right now.
That is, until I think about this:
Apart from the fact that part of this gets stuck in my head to the point of being maddening, I don't have any particularly strong feelings about this song one way or another. She's got an okay voice, and while it's kind of annoying, and maddening, the vocal hook is rather catchy (which is what makes it so maddening).
I have to say that physically she looks sort of like a combination of Tori Amos and Fiona Apple, but maybe that's just me.
In any case, here's hoping your brains end up just as full of her evilly-catchy chorus as mine is.
(Speaking of bestweekever.tv and posts by Ms. Collins, though, check out this entry. The clip itself is hilarious, but if you look in the comments, you might see a familiar name...)
Way To Go, Einstein!
I just thought I should share this classic sketch from Mr. Show With Bob and David explaining the finer points of "Worthington's Law." Good stuff.
I Guess I'm Hooked On Complainohol or The USA Takes The Gold In the Jon-Avoidance Event!
In the previous post I linked to an article that appeals to “Albaholics.”
I have to say that, along with adding “gate” to every political scandal and combining the names of celebrity couples (though I do have to salute Stephen Colbert for the coining of Filliam H. Muffman to refer to William H. Macy and Felicity Huffman), one of the many linguistic gimmicks that people use that irritates me a great deal is adding “oholic” or “holic” to words to indicate an addiction to whatever word it’s being added to.
The thing is, I’m not a recovering alcoholic because I’m addicted to alc, I’m addicted to alcohol. The “ohol” is already in there; all that was added was “ic.”
I mean, there’s no such substance as Albahol (though if there were, I would so be at the liquor store stocking up on it).
Admittedly, Albaic wouldn’t really convey the idea, but adding the hol or ohol as a kludge to make the idea work just grates on my nerves a little.
It’s sort of like when they released that box set of all four Alien movies on DVD and referred to it as a “quadrilogy.” (That one really grated on Scott’s nerves.)
If you can’t see the problem in that construct, I’m not going to point it out to you.
(The best send-up of this tendency that people have, by the way, was on The Simpsons when Homer said, “I’m a rage-aholic! I just can’t live without rage-ahol!”)
All I’m saying is that there has to be a better way of doing things.
I actually ventured out in the world, however briefly, to do a few things. First up was a trip to my dentist’s office to make an appointment. I have about $2,000 in my Flex spending account that I have to use before the end of the year and I still need some crowns, so I figure I might as well get that taken care of now. Next year I’m using my Flex money to get my eyesight fixed.
I was going to do that this year, which is why I have so much left over, but I spent more at the dentist than I’d expected to and didn’t have enough left for the eye work.
When I walked into the dentist’s office the cute girl with the big boobs who can’t say Massachusetts lit up like a Christmas tree. I’ve never seen her that pleased to see anyone, especially me. I’m slightly more accustomed to her looking at me like I’m something she scraped off the bottom of her shoe. Not sure what was up with that. Once I got closer to the desk the Asian girl, who is sort of hidden from view when you first walk in saw me as well and extended a cheery hello, but she’s always really cheery and nice, so that was nothing new.
Big-boobed girl remembered my last name and immediately started looking up my file, but she’d gone with an incorrect spelling and was puzzled because she wasn’t sure what my first name was but was reasonably certain that it’s not Steven.
Eventually she found it, I made my appointment for Monday (I lost part of a filling, which is honestly sort of convenient, as it gave me a reason to set up an appointment which gives me the opportunity to schedule more work before the end of the year.)
From there I went on to get a haircut. I didn’t get it cut quite as short as I’d like, but I didn’t want to ask her to cut it any more, as I was tired of getting jabbed painfully in the head by the clippers as she was cutting it.
After that I headed over to Taco Bell for lunch, deciding I wanted one of those enchilada burritos. Once I got there, though – it’s a combo Taco Bell/KFC – saw the signs for those KFC bowls and decided to finally get around to trying one. It was okay.
After that I stopped to pick up a few groceries and made my way home.
While I was out, particularly as a result of an infuriating attempt at getting some napkins and plasticware at KFC that was thwarted by this tag-team of slow-ass idiots, it occurred to me that, given the apparent degree of difficulty and just how challenging it seems to be, there should be a new competitive sport centered on getting the hell out of my way.
I seriously don’t understand why people find it so difficult. Clearly it takes a lifetime of focus, dedication, and daily conditioning to master the skill, and I think it’s high time that the people who do manage it achieve some sort of recognition – with special recognition for those who manage the even more difficult task of just staying the hell away from me completely – in the hopes that it will inspire others to achieve such lofty heights of athletic perfection.
Maybe it could be an exhibition event at the 2008 Olympics.
I should think it would be at least as interesting to watch as Curling.
I have to say that, along with adding “gate” to every political scandal and combining the names of celebrity couples (though I do have to salute Stephen Colbert for the coining of Filliam H. Muffman to refer to William H. Macy and Felicity Huffman), one of the many linguistic gimmicks that people use that irritates me a great deal is adding “oholic” or “holic” to words to indicate an addiction to whatever word it’s being added to.
The thing is, I’m not a recovering alcoholic because I’m addicted to alc, I’m addicted to alcohol. The “ohol” is already in there; all that was added was “ic.”
I mean, there’s no such substance as Albahol (though if there were, I would so be at the liquor store stocking up on it).
Admittedly, Albaic wouldn’t really convey the idea, but adding the hol or ohol as a kludge to make the idea work just grates on my nerves a little.
It’s sort of like when they released that box set of all four Alien movies on DVD and referred to it as a “quadrilogy.” (That one really grated on Scott’s nerves.)
If you can’t see the problem in that construct, I’m not going to point it out to you.
(The best send-up of this tendency that people have, by the way, was on The Simpsons when Homer said, “I’m a rage-aholic! I just can’t live without rage-ahol!”)
All I’m saying is that there has to be a better way of doing things.
I actually ventured out in the world, however briefly, to do a few things. First up was a trip to my dentist’s office to make an appointment. I have about $2,000 in my Flex spending account that I have to use before the end of the year and I still need some crowns, so I figure I might as well get that taken care of now. Next year I’m using my Flex money to get my eyesight fixed.
I was going to do that this year, which is why I have so much left over, but I spent more at the dentist than I’d expected to and didn’t have enough left for the eye work.
When I walked into the dentist’s office the cute girl with the big boobs who can’t say Massachusetts lit up like a Christmas tree. I’ve never seen her that pleased to see anyone, especially me. I’m slightly more accustomed to her looking at me like I’m something she scraped off the bottom of her shoe. Not sure what was up with that. Once I got closer to the desk the Asian girl, who is sort of hidden from view when you first walk in saw me as well and extended a cheery hello, but she’s always really cheery and nice, so that was nothing new.
Big-boobed girl remembered my last name and immediately started looking up my file, but she’d gone with an incorrect spelling and was puzzled because she wasn’t sure what my first name was but was reasonably certain that it’s not Steven.
Eventually she found it, I made my appointment for Monday (I lost part of a filling, which is honestly sort of convenient, as it gave me a reason to set up an appointment which gives me the opportunity to schedule more work before the end of the year.)
From there I went on to get a haircut. I didn’t get it cut quite as short as I’d like, but I didn’t want to ask her to cut it any more, as I was tired of getting jabbed painfully in the head by the clippers as she was cutting it.
After that I headed over to Taco Bell for lunch, deciding I wanted one of those enchilada burritos. Once I got there, though – it’s a combo Taco Bell/KFC – saw the signs for those KFC bowls and decided to finally get around to trying one. It was okay.
After that I stopped to pick up a few groceries and made my way home.
While I was out, particularly as a result of an infuriating attempt at getting some napkins and plasticware at KFC that was thwarted by this tag-team of slow-ass idiots, it occurred to me that, given the apparent degree of difficulty and just how challenging it seems to be, there should be a new competitive sport centered on getting the hell out of my way.
I seriously don’t understand why people find it so difficult. Clearly it takes a lifetime of focus, dedication, and daily conditioning to master the skill, and I think it’s high time that the people who do manage it achieve some sort of recognition – with special recognition for those who manage the even more difficult task of just staying the hell away from me completely – in the hopes that it will inspire others to achieve such lofty heights of athletic perfection.
Maybe it could be an exhibition event at the 2008 Olympics.
I should think it would be at least as interesting to watch as Curling.
Okay, That Size I CAN Give You
For all of you weirdoes film memorabilia collectors out there, it is possible to purchase the bra that Jessica Alba wore in the movie Sin City.
Despite the fact that I love Sin City and the fact that Jessica Alba is undeniably hot, I will not be bidding.
Why? Well, I have no interest in owning used women's clothing* for one thing (especially when the current bid is over $300), and for another, to be true to the comics, she shouldn't have been wearing a bra anyway.
But for you size-seekers out there, according to the article, her bra sizes is 34B, so that's one celebrity bra size I can provide. Don't come around looking for others, and don't blame me if that's not the correct size.
*I'm not big on owning new women's clothing either. Just thought I should point that out.
Despite the fact that I love Sin City and the fact that Jessica Alba is undeniably hot, I will not be bidding.
Why? Well, I have no interest in owning used women's clothing* for one thing (especially when the current bid is over $300), and for another, to be true to the comics, she shouldn't have been wearing a bra anyway.
But for you size-seekers out there, according to the article, her bra sizes is 34B, so that's one celebrity bra size I can provide. Don't come around looking for others, and don't blame me if that's not the correct size.
*I'm not big on owning new women's clothing either. Just thought I should point that out.
Thursday, November 30, 2006
Excellent Timing
I didn’t post an entry yesterday mostly because I just didn’t feel like it, but also because I really didn’t do anything all day so there wasn’t much to write about anyway.
Today would have been much the same, though I did end up doing something noteworthy.
For a while now I’ve been beta testing a VoIP phone service. Today the service – and as a consequence, the beta test – shut down.
This mostly means that I’ll have to go back to using my cell phone for everything, but that’s okay.
It also meant removing the Terminal Adapter – the device that connects to your broadband modem and into which you plug your phone – from my configuration.
Since I hadn’t gotten around to it previously, I decided that the removal of the TA presented a perfect opportunity to hook up the Network Attached hard drive I bought back in Michigan.
So just to be on the safe side I shut everything down, disconnected the TA, ran an Ethernet cable from the cable modem to my wireless router, and hooked up the network drive, then turned everything back on.
I threw the installation CD into the drive and ran the configuration program, waiting as it did a search for the drive.
And I waited.
And I waited.
No drive detected.
Okay…I’ll try again, I decided.
No drive.
I launched my browser to try to look up some information on the Web.
I got a message telling me I wasn’t connected to the Internet.
I went into my network settings and found that my wireless network wasn’t listed.
In fact, my wireless adapter wasn’t even listed, so it wasn’t simply a matter of me not being able to connect to my wireless network, it was a matter of my computer not even recognizing that it was possible for me to connect.
I figured it must be a driver problem so I tried reinstalling it, but I didn’t actually have a copy of the driver files saved anywhere.
I tried a system restore, but that didn’t work either.
In extreme frustration – and after a lot of swearing – I actually plugged my computer into the router. It still didn’t allow me to connect to the Internet or to detect the network drive because my computer wasn’t set up for networking at all anymore.
I did what I had to in order to enable networking, restarted, and found that my computer didn’t actually restart properly as several start-up processes appeared to be hung. I got restarted and was able to connect to the Internet, but my existing network was no longer accessible.
(In the meantime, Munin was still working just fine and I was actually able to run the configuration program for the network drive on there just fine.)
Eventually I managed to track down the drivers for the wireless adapter and install them, but it still wouldn’t work.
Finally, in desperation, I thought, “Maybe it’s actually a hardware problem,” and swapped out Hugin’s adapter with Munin’s. Bam, Hugin recognized the adapter and connected to my network. With the Hugin’s adapter connected, Munin spat out an error message saying that the device was not recognized and may be damaged.
Apparently the wireless adapter just randomly chose that exact moment to crap out, most likely solely for the purposes of pissing me off.
So Hugin was back up, but Munin was down until I could replace the wireless adapter.
Obviously this could wait, as my main system was working.
Except that it would have eaten away at me to leave matters unresolved, so I put on some pants and, despite the fact that it was well after my usual 2 PM cut-off point for venturing into the world, I headed over to Best Buy.
Since it was close to dinner time anyway and I didn’t know what I was going to make, I figured that I’d stop at the bank first to get some cash and then pick something up from Arby’s after I was done at Best Buy.
A quick look at my balance made me panic, as my mortgage payments come out tomorrow and I had $200 less than what I needed to cover them. This was both troubling and puzzling, as there was no possible way that I could be short (on money). Still, it was a puzzle best saved for later, and I hit the Best Buy, found a suitable adapter (I was going to buy an internal card, but the USB adapter I found was cheaper. Cheaper + Not having to open up the computer = Sold). Next up was Arby’s. While there, I realized that the last time I’d been there was the day I flew out to Michigan. Thinking about that made me think about my dad, which made me sad.
Anyway, after that I made my way home.
Somehow, despite the fact that the plaza where the bank, Best Buy, and Arby’s are located is only about 2 miles away, this quick little venture into the world took over a half an hour.
Once I was home I checked my account activity and saw that my second mortgage payment had come out a day early, which explained the seeming problem with my balance.
After eating my dinner I set up Munin with the new adapter, and everything was, once more, hunky-dory.
Except that I just realized that I never got around to setting up Hugin to use the network drive.
*Sigh* There’s always something.
Today would have been much the same, though I did end up doing something noteworthy.
For a while now I’ve been beta testing a VoIP phone service. Today the service – and as a consequence, the beta test – shut down.
This mostly means that I’ll have to go back to using my cell phone for everything, but that’s okay.
It also meant removing the Terminal Adapter – the device that connects to your broadband modem and into which you plug your phone – from my configuration.
Since I hadn’t gotten around to it previously, I decided that the removal of the TA presented a perfect opportunity to hook up the Network Attached hard drive I bought back in Michigan.
So just to be on the safe side I shut everything down, disconnected the TA, ran an Ethernet cable from the cable modem to my wireless router, and hooked up the network drive, then turned everything back on.
I threw the installation CD into the drive and ran the configuration program, waiting as it did a search for the drive.
And I waited.
And I waited.
No drive detected.
Okay…I’ll try again, I decided.
No drive.
I launched my browser to try to look up some information on the Web.
I got a message telling me I wasn’t connected to the Internet.
I went into my network settings and found that my wireless network wasn’t listed.
In fact, my wireless adapter wasn’t even listed, so it wasn’t simply a matter of me not being able to connect to my wireless network, it was a matter of my computer not even recognizing that it was possible for me to connect.
I figured it must be a driver problem so I tried reinstalling it, but I didn’t actually have a copy of the driver files saved anywhere.
I tried a system restore, but that didn’t work either.
In extreme frustration – and after a lot of swearing – I actually plugged my computer into the router. It still didn’t allow me to connect to the Internet or to detect the network drive because my computer wasn’t set up for networking at all anymore.
I did what I had to in order to enable networking, restarted, and found that my computer didn’t actually restart properly as several start-up processes appeared to be hung. I got restarted and was able to connect to the Internet, but my existing network was no longer accessible.
(In the meantime, Munin was still working just fine and I was actually able to run the configuration program for the network drive on there just fine.)
Eventually I managed to track down the drivers for the wireless adapter and install them, but it still wouldn’t work.
Finally, in desperation, I thought, “Maybe it’s actually a hardware problem,” and swapped out Hugin’s adapter with Munin’s. Bam, Hugin recognized the adapter and connected to my network. With the Hugin’s adapter connected, Munin spat out an error message saying that the device was not recognized and may be damaged.
Apparently the wireless adapter just randomly chose that exact moment to crap out, most likely solely for the purposes of pissing me off.
So Hugin was back up, but Munin was down until I could replace the wireless adapter.
Obviously this could wait, as my main system was working.
Except that it would have eaten away at me to leave matters unresolved, so I put on some pants and, despite the fact that it was well after my usual 2 PM cut-off point for venturing into the world, I headed over to Best Buy.
Since it was close to dinner time anyway and I didn’t know what I was going to make, I figured that I’d stop at the bank first to get some cash and then pick something up from Arby’s after I was done at Best Buy.
A quick look at my balance made me panic, as my mortgage payments come out tomorrow and I had $200 less than what I needed to cover them. This was both troubling and puzzling, as there was no possible way that I could be short (on money). Still, it was a puzzle best saved for later, and I hit the Best Buy, found a suitable adapter (I was going to buy an internal card, but the USB adapter I found was cheaper. Cheaper + Not having to open up the computer = Sold). Next up was Arby’s. While there, I realized that the last time I’d been there was the day I flew out to Michigan. Thinking about that made me think about my dad, which made me sad.
Anyway, after that I made my way home.
Somehow, despite the fact that the plaza where the bank, Best Buy, and Arby’s are located is only about 2 miles away, this quick little venture into the world took over a half an hour.
Once I was home I checked my account activity and saw that my second mortgage payment had come out a day early, which explained the seeming problem with my balance.
After eating my dinner I set up Munin with the new adapter, and everything was, once more, hunky-dory.
Except that I just realized that I never got around to setting up Hugin to use the network drive.
*Sigh* There’s always something.
Wednesday, November 29, 2006
I Could Make A Comment About An 8th Dwarf Named "Horny," But I Won't
Earlier today I finished a picture of actress Michelle Trachtenberg dressed up as a rather sexy Snow White for Halloween, then this evening she was actually on an episode of Law & Order: Criminal Intent.
Along with forgetfulness, gray hair, and increased gasiness, one of the consequences of getting older is that you end up seeing young girls grow up into young women. Sometimes, as in this case, sexy young women.
It's kind of disturbing. I mean, it would be bad enough that I think that Michelle Trachtenberg is hot if I simply remembered her from Harriet the Spy, but it's worse because I remember her from even earlier on The Adventures of Pete + Pete when she was even younger and I was already a college graduate.
The whole thing sort of reminds me of an episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, on which Michelle played Buffy's younger sister Dawn. In it, we see Buffy and her friends Willow and Xander enjoying an evening out at a local club. Xander spots some sexy young thing shaking it on the dance floor and says something along the lines of "Daddy likes." The sexy dancer turns around and is revealed to be Dawn. Xander, who's in his 20s, whereas Dawn is only 15 or 16, freaks out and says, "Ahhh! Daddy doesn't like! Daddy doesn't like!"
(The best part is when Willow, a lesbian, leans over and says to him, "Right there with you.")
That scene, I suppose, says a lot about the nature of sexuality and transformation from girl to woman, but my point is that when I look at the adult Michelle Trachtenberg and find myself attracted to her I can't help but feel disconcerted as I remember the child.
I suppose that actually adds another element to the whole thing, a sort of taboo edge, something that I think speaks to every male. After all, the "schoolgirl" look is pretty universally accepted as being sexy, and even in this picture Michelle is working the "little girl" aspect with her coy pose. Consider the initial appeal of Britney Spears and the other "Pop Tarts." Clearly the image of the sexually precocious child is a powerful archetype.
In any case, the point is that while I find the woman she's grown up to be attractive, I remember the little girl she used to be, and I suppose that's just, as I said, a consequence of getting older.
Oh well.
In any case, the Snow White imagery made me think of the wonderful comic book Fables, and so I felt inspired to experiment a little and depart from my usual style in another attempt at creating something in a comic book style, something similar to the work of Adam Hughes.
Overall I'm pleased with it, but there's still a lot of room for improvement.
I have other versions of this file that I might experiment with (though I might not), so don't be surprised if you see variations on this image posted in the future (and don't be surprised if you don't).
Along with forgetfulness, gray hair, and increased gasiness, one of the consequences of getting older is that you end up seeing young girls grow up into young women. Sometimes, as in this case, sexy young women.
It's kind of disturbing. I mean, it would be bad enough that I think that Michelle Trachtenberg is hot if I simply remembered her from Harriet the Spy, but it's worse because I remember her from even earlier on The Adventures of Pete + Pete when she was even younger and I was already a college graduate.
The whole thing sort of reminds me of an episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, on which Michelle played Buffy's younger sister Dawn. In it, we see Buffy and her friends Willow and Xander enjoying an evening out at a local club. Xander spots some sexy young thing shaking it on the dance floor and says something along the lines of "Daddy likes." The sexy dancer turns around and is revealed to be Dawn. Xander, who's in his 20s, whereas Dawn is only 15 or 16, freaks out and says, "Ahhh! Daddy doesn't like! Daddy doesn't like!"
(The best part is when Willow, a lesbian, leans over and says to him, "Right there with you.")
That scene, I suppose, says a lot about the nature of sexuality and transformation from girl to woman, but my point is that when I look at the adult Michelle Trachtenberg and find myself attracted to her I can't help but feel disconcerted as I remember the child.
I suppose that actually adds another element to the whole thing, a sort of taboo edge, something that I think speaks to every male. After all, the "schoolgirl" look is pretty universally accepted as being sexy, and even in this picture Michelle is working the "little girl" aspect with her coy pose. Consider the initial appeal of Britney Spears and the other "Pop Tarts." Clearly the image of the sexually precocious child is a powerful archetype.
In any case, the point is that while I find the woman she's grown up to be attractive, I remember the little girl she used to be, and I suppose that's just, as I said, a consequence of getting older.
Oh well.
In any case, the Snow White imagery made me think of the wonderful comic book Fables, and so I felt inspired to experiment a little and depart from my usual style in another attempt at creating something in a comic book style, something similar to the work of Adam Hughes.
Overall I'm pleased with it, but there's still a lot of room for improvement.
I have other versions of this file that I might experiment with (though I might not), so don't be surprised if you see variations on this image posted in the future (and don't be surprised if you don't).
Tuesday, November 28, 2006
OAQ (Occasionally Asked Questions) or Seek And Ye Shall NOT Find
I don’t intend this to come off as bragging, but I know a lot of stuff.
After all, I’ve been on this planet for over 34 years and throughout most of that time I’ve had a habit of collecting bits of abstract information and stuffing them into my brain. Sometimes actively and deliberately, other times passively and unintentionally.
Beyond all of the information I have “on hand,” I’m also pretty skilled at finding stuff out through a variety of methods, though I must admit that these days I seldom make use of methods that don’t involve the Internet.
So the point is that I know a lot of stuff and what I don’t know I can generally find out.
Of course, there is infinitely more stuff out there that I don’t know, and much of it is impossible to discover through the means available to me, and even more of it I simply do not care enough to try to find out.
This post is about some of that stuff.
As I’ve mentioned many times before, among other things the traffic counting software I use here allows me to see what search engines, if applicable, referred people here, and exactly what they were searching for.
I begin to notice certain trends pretty quickly, such as the people who come here looking for information on a certain shitty soft-core porn movie involving prehistory, and I become conscious of how people are wasting their time coming here, as I don’t have the information they’re looking for and in a lot of cases I don’t even know where they can find it.
Based on some of the top traffic generators, I thought I would compile a list of things I don’t know anything about that people come here looking to learn about in the hopes that the text stating that “I don’t know the answer to your question about this” will come up in the search results.
In some cases, though, I will at least try to point people in the right direction.
Okay, first up, naturally, is Bikini Cavegirl, which is also known as Teenage Cavegirl.
I do not know – or care – whether or not the people in the movie were actually having sex. I don’t know anything about the personal lives of any of the actors or actresses, there are no pictures of any of them here, and you cannot download the movie from this site. If you really need information about it, though I cannot imagine why you would, look it up on IMDb or Wikipedia. If you want to download the movie illegally, check out Usenet or any of the P2P stuff out there. If you want to buy the movie, go to a site that sells movies.
All of that being said, it’s not a good movie even by shitty soft-core porn movie standards. The women in it aren’t really that hot and the story and acting are sub-Ed Wood level. It’s just that bad and is not worth wasting your time trying to find information on it or to purchase or download it.
Okay, next up, I don’t know if Giada De Laurentis is pregnant. Months ago I made a reference to the fact that she appeared to be wearing a maternity outfit on one episode of Everyday Italian that I watched. That’s the extent of what I know. This is not a celebrity gossip blog; I’m not likely to have that sort of information here and I’m not going to try to find it for you.
In a similar vein, I do not know the bra sizes of any celebrity. I get a lot of hits from people looking for this. Most commonly – because I do mention her, though not her bra size, which I imagine is substantial, frequently – I get hits from people looking for Carla Gugino’s. As I stated, because I don’t know any celebrity’s, I don’t know what Carla Gugino’s bra size is.
Similarly, I don’t know what Monica Keena’s bra size is either.
Sometimes IMDb biographies will list them (citing Celebrity Sleuth as a source), but not often. I don’t know where you can find this information otherwise. There is a site that has a list of sizes, but it is, apparently (per the discussion on Digg), inaccurate, and like many things on the Web has not been updated since 1995 (it probably was created on a BBS or something and simply migrated to the Web unchanged) and does not, consequently, list anyone who came into prominence since then, so I’m not going to bother posting the URL.
I can’t see any reason why anyone would need to know this, therefore I have no idea what kind of salary beer spokesmodels make. I wouldn’t even know where to look for information like that. I can tell you where not to look, though: here.
Again, because I don’t do celebrity gossip – or New Age mysticism – I can’t even tell you why someone would do a search for “Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt and Cosmic Energy,“ let alone provide any information about it.
So in summary, all you need to know about Bikini Cavegirl is that it’s a shitty movie, I don’t have any celebrity gossip (or bra sizes), and I’m not a beer spokesmodel salary expert.
I don’t want you to think that I’m judging you based on the kind of stuff you’re searching for (even though I’m totally judging you based on the kind of stuff you’re searching for), but I do want to make it clear that for anything other than me spouting off about whatever comes to mind with no real guiding theme, or the occasional bit of artwork, you really need to search elsewhere to find it.
After all, I’ve been on this planet for over 34 years and throughout most of that time I’ve had a habit of collecting bits of abstract information and stuffing them into my brain. Sometimes actively and deliberately, other times passively and unintentionally.
Beyond all of the information I have “on hand,” I’m also pretty skilled at finding stuff out through a variety of methods, though I must admit that these days I seldom make use of methods that don’t involve the Internet.
So the point is that I know a lot of stuff and what I don’t know I can generally find out.
Of course, there is infinitely more stuff out there that I don’t know, and much of it is impossible to discover through the means available to me, and even more of it I simply do not care enough to try to find out.
This post is about some of that stuff.
As I’ve mentioned many times before, among other things the traffic counting software I use here allows me to see what search engines, if applicable, referred people here, and exactly what they were searching for.
I begin to notice certain trends pretty quickly, such as the people who come here looking for information on a certain shitty soft-core porn movie involving prehistory, and I become conscious of how people are wasting their time coming here, as I don’t have the information they’re looking for and in a lot of cases I don’t even know where they can find it.
Based on some of the top traffic generators, I thought I would compile a list of things I don’t know anything about that people come here looking to learn about in the hopes that the text stating that “I don’t know the answer to your question about this” will come up in the search results.
In some cases, though, I will at least try to point people in the right direction.
Okay, first up, naturally, is Bikini Cavegirl, which is also known as Teenage Cavegirl.
I do not know – or care – whether or not the people in the movie were actually having sex. I don’t know anything about the personal lives of any of the actors or actresses, there are no pictures of any of them here, and you cannot download the movie from this site. If you really need information about it, though I cannot imagine why you would, look it up on IMDb or Wikipedia. If you want to download the movie illegally, check out Usenet or any of the P2P stuff out there. If you want to buy the movie, go to a site that sells movies.
All of that being said, it’s not a good movie even by shitty soft-core porn movie standards. The women in it aren’t really that hot and the story and acting are sub-Ed Wood level. It’s just that bad and is not worth wasting your time trying to find information on it or to purchase or download it.
Okay, next up, I don’t know if Giada De Laurentis is pregnant. Months ago I made a reference to the fact that she appeared to be wearing a maternity outfit on one episode of Everyday Italian that I watched. That’s the extent of what I know. This is not a celebrity gossip blog; I’m not likely to have that sort of information here and I’m not going to try to find it for you.
In a similar vein, I do not know the bra sizes of any celebrity. I get a lot of hits from people looking for this. Most commonly – because I do mention her, though not her bra size, which I imagine is substantial, frequently – I get hits from people looking for Carla Gugino’s. As I stated, because I don’t know any celebrity’s, I don’t know what Carla Gugino’s bra size is.
Similarly, I don’t know what Monica Keena’s bra size is either.
Sometimes IMDb biographies will list them (citing Celebrity Sleuth as a source), but not often. I don’t know where you can find this information otherwise. There is a site that has a list of sizes, but it is, apparently (per the discussion on Digg), inaccurate, and like many things on the Web has not been updated since 1995 (it probably was created on a BBS or something and simply migrated to the Web unchanged) and does not, consequently, list anyone who came into prominence since then, so I’m not going to bother posting the URL.
I can’t see any reason why anyone would need to know this, therefore I have no idea what kind of salary beer spokesmodels make. I wouldn’t even know where to look for information like that. I can tell you where not to look, though: here.
Again, because I don’t do celebrity gossip – or New Age mysticism – I can’t even tell you why someone would do a search for “Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt and Cosmic Energy,“ let alone provide any information about it.
So in summary, all you need to know about Bikini Cavegirl is that it’s a shitty movie, I don’t have any celebrity gossip (or bra sizes), and I’m not a beer spokesmodel salary expert.
I don’t want you to think that I’m judging you based on the kind of stuff you’re searching for (even though I’m totally judging you based on the kind of stuff you’re searching for), but I do want to make it clear that for anything other than me spouting off about whatever comes to mind with no real guiding theme, or the occasional bit of artwork, you really need to search elsewhere to find it.
Put The Boots To Him, Medium Style
Head over to The Fix at adultswim.com and check out the latest episode of Metalocalypse to learn why I've been wandering around the condo randomly saying "I do cocaine!" and "K-k-k-yeah!" since Sunday night.
(For the record, I don't do cocaine and never have, and that's the k-k-k-truth!)
Here's the link.
For the unitiated, Metalocalypse follows the adventures of Dethklok, the most brutal (and successful) metal band in the world whose immense popularity has caught the concerned attention of The Tribunal, a shadowy group of military, religious, and political leaders which secretly controls the world.
Best moment of the episode: Murderface waking up to find the hand of Dr. Rockso (the rock-n-roll clown) in his pocket and screaming as Dr. Rockso whispers his catchphrase, though Dr. Rockso's music video, which is something of an ode to Davide Lee Roth and, of course, cocaine, is a close second.
(For the record, I don't do cocaine and never have, and that's the k-k-k-truth!)
Here's the link.
For the unitiated, Metalocalypse follows the adventures of Dethklok, the most brutal (and successful) metal band in the world whose immense popularity has caught the concerned attention of The Tribunal, a shadowy group of military, religious, and political leaders which secretly controls the world.
Best moment of the episode: Murderface waking up to find the hand of Dr. Rockso (the rock-n-roll clown) in his pocket and screaming as Dr. Rockso whispers his catchphrase, though Dr. Rockso's music video, which is something of an ode to Davide Lee Roth and, of course, cocaine, is a close second.
Things I Forgot To Mention
There were a couple of things I meant to mention yesterday, but forgot.
Among them was the passing of comic artist Dave Cockrum (1943-2006) on November 26th.
Cockrum is most famous for being the artist who, with writer Len Wein and editor Roy Thomas, helped to relaunch the X-Men in the 1970s, paving the way for the later phenomenal success and worldwide popularity of the characters.
You can read some more about him here, and Neil Gaiman has a fitting tribute to him posted on his blog.
Another thing I neglected to mention, mostly because I didn't think about it until after the fact, is that as of yesterday I've been in Northern Virginia for four years.
When I arrived here on November 27, 2002, it was the night before Thanksgiving, and I ended up spending Thanksgiving alone in a hotel room where my dinner consisted of a turkey sub from the Subway in the gas station next to my hotel.
Honestly, though, the worst part was not having a computer or Internet access for most of that time, and given that the map I had printed out and the one provided for me by the car rental people were both pretty useless, I was mostly just thankful that I actually managed to find the place after I'd left the airport.
The irritating thing was that while I was driving around I knew that I was somewhere in the vicinity of the place, I just couldn't actually find it. I stopped at a gas station to ask for directions (if a female stand-up comic had been riding with me, this would have forced her to seriously re-evaluate a significant portion of her act), but received no help at all, as the people there had no idea where the place was located.
Dejected, I walked out to the rental car, turned right to make the U-turn to get back out onto the road, and happened to notice a sign indicating that in making the U-turn I was getting onto the street I was looking for. I looked ahead and, about 500 yards away I saw the sign for my hotel.
I considered going back to the gas station, dragging one of the people out, pointing, and saying, "It's right fucking there!" but decided against it.
In any case, Brian just beeped me to see if I want to have lunch, so I guess I'll get this posted.
Among them was the passing of comic artist Dave Cockrum (1943-2006) on November 26th.
Cockrum is most famous for being the artist who, with writer Len Wein and editor Roy Thomas, helped to relaunch the X-Men in the 1970s, paving the way for the later phenomenal success and worldwide popularity of the characters.
You can read some more about him here, and Neil Gaiman has a fitting tribute to him posted on his blog.
Another thing I neglected to mention, mostly because I didn't think about it until after the fact, is that as of yesterday I've been in Northern Virginia for four years.
When I arrived here on November 27, 2002, it was the night before Thanksgiving, and I ended up spending Thanksgiving alone in a hotel room where my dinner consisted of a turkey sub from the Subway in the gas station next to my hotel.
Honestly, though, the worst part was not having a computer or Internet access for most of that time, and given that the map I had printed out and the one provided for me by the car rental people were both pretty useless, I was mostly just thankful that I actually managed to find the place after I'd left the airport.
The irritating thing was that while I was driving around I knew that I was somewhere in the vicinity of the place, I just couldn't actually find it. I stopped at a gas station to ask for directions (if a female stand-up comic had been riding with me, this would have forced her to seriously re-evaluate a significant portion of her act), but received no help at all, as the people there had no idea where the place was located.
Dejected, I walked out to the rental car, turned right to make the U-turn to get back out onto the road, and happened to notice a sign indicating that in making the U-turn I was getting onto the street I was looking for. I looked ahead and, about 500 yards away I saw the sign for my hotel.
I considered going back to the gas station, dragging one of the people out, pointing, and saying, "It's right fucking there!" but decided against it.
In any case, Brian just beeped me to see if I want to have lunch, so I guess I'll get this posted.
Monday, November 27, 2006
Not That There's Anything WRONG With That...
After making my post about the Kirby Krackle Brush I came up with an idea for another shirt to put up for sale on Zazzle. Again, exactly one person reading this will understand the humor of it, but, again, I'm posting it anyway:
While creating the shirt I noticed that it's finally possible to have calendars made through Zazzle. It occurred to me that I'd like to have one made with some all-new art, and shortly afterwards an idea for a theme occurred to me, so I got to work on a new picture.
While I was sitting here in my room in the dark working on the picture I heard a knock on my door.
I was naturally suspicious, as I very seldom have anyone at my door other than Mormoms or Jehovah's Witnesses (or the homeless-looking guy who knocked on my door last week looking for someone named Richard), and in my unwashed, been sitting around all day without getting properly dressed state I was reluctant to answer.
Once I did so I was greeted by a tall, older British man who knew my name.
Turns out he was an investigator based out of DC working for Jon Betts' family.
The investigation into his appearance has pretty much come to a dead-end at this point. The fact that they have not recovered a body makes it seem a little more likely that he didn't actually kill himself, he simply walked away from his life.
At this point his family wants closure more than anything, and if they were to hear that he were alive, that would be enough for them; they wouldn't try to pressure him into returning.
I honestly don't know whether he did kill himself or not. As I've mentioned, it is something that he talked about, but it's almost as likely that he would simply walk away from his life rather than actually ending it.
In any case, I was more than happy to answer all of the guy's questions, though I just don't have any information that can shed any additional light on things.
While we were discussing things the topic turned to Betts' sexuality. No judgments were being made (by either of us), but naturally there was the potential for it to be related (the notion that perhaps he'd tested positive for HIV, for example, precipitating his taking of such a drastic step, had occurred to me before, and apparently had to his family as well).
He asked me about any people I knew whom he'd been involved with, then he asked what I suppose was an obvious and routine question: had I ever been involved with him.
I told him that I hadn't, and added, "Not that it matters, but I'm not a homosexual."
At that point it essentially turned into an episode of Seinfeld for a little bit.
Ultimately I promised that I would keep him apprised of any new information I receive and I asked that he let me know if they ever do find out anything one way or another.
One thing I learned was that, as he did for Amit, he'd prepared a message for me, which was sent out on a timer through an online greeting card sort of service. I never got it, so I think it may have actually ended up in my spam folder.
As they now have access to his computer, I'm going to request that it be sent to me, as apparently he'd written a letter, then personalized it for each person that he sent it to.
I actually had a dream the other night that I was back in Tucson in the call center and that Betts just showed up (in the dream, despite the fact that I was apparently in the past, the present circumstances still applied and he had been missing for over a month). I demanded that he tell me where he'd been, but he said, he didn't want to talk about it. I told him that was too goddamned bad that the he was bloody well going to talk about it.
I think it would be worth being stuck in that call center again if it meant that he would turn up okay.
While creating the shirt I noticed that it's finally possible to have calendars made through Zazzle. It occurred to me that I'd like to have one made with some all-new art, and shortly afterwards an idea for a theme occurred to me, so I got to work on a new picture.
While I was sitting here in my room in the dark working on the picture I heard a knock on my door.
I was naturally suspicious, as I very seldom have anyone at my door other than Mormoms or Jehovah's Witnesses (or the homeless-looking guy who knocked on my door last week looking for someone named Richard), and in my unwashed, been sitting around all day without getting properly dressed state I was reluctant to answer.
Once I did so I was greeted by a tall, older British man who knew my name.
Turns out he was an investigator based out of DC working for Jon Betts' family.
The investigation into his appearance has pretty much come to a dead-end at this point. The fact that they have not recovered a body makes it seem a little more likely that he didn't actually kill himself, he simply walked away from his life.
At this point his family wants closure more than anything, and if they were to hear that he were alive, that would be enough for them; they wouldn't try to pressure him into returning.
I honestly don't know whether he did kill himself or not. As I've mentioned, it is something that he talked about, but it's almost as likely that he would simply walk away from his life rather than actually ending it.
In any case, I was more than happy to answer all of the guy's questions, though I just don't have any information that can shed any additional light on things.
While we were discussing things the topic turned to Betts' sexuality. No judgments were being made (by either of us), but naturally there was the potential for it to be related (the notion that perhaps he'd tested positive for HIV, for example, precipitating his taking of such a drastic step, had occurred to me before, and apparently had to his family as well).
He asked me about any people I knew whom he'd been involved with, then he asked what I suppose was an obvious and routine question: had I ever been involved with him.
I told him that I hadn't, and added, "Not that it matters, but I'm not a homosexual."
At that point it essentially turned into an episode of Seinfeld for a little bit.
Ultimately I promised that I would keep him apprised of any new information I receive and I asked that he let me know if they ever do find out anything one way or another.
One thing I learned was that, as he did for Amit, he'd prepared a message for me, which was sent out on a timer through an online greeting card sort of service. I never got it, so I think it may have actually ended up in my spam folder.
As they now have access to his computer, I'm going to request that it be sent to me, as apparently he'd written a letter, then personalized it for each person that he sent it to.
I actually had a dream the other night that I was back in Tucson in the call center and that Betts just showed up (in the dream, despite the fact that I was apparently in the past, the present circumstances still applied and he had been missing for over a month). I demanded that he tell me where he'd been, but he said, he didn't want to talk about it. I told him that was too goddamned bad that the he was bloody well going to talk about it.
I think it would be worth being stuck in that call center again if it meant that he would turn up okay.
Krackle!
Along with following online tutorials, one of the things I've been doing to fill up my artistic bag of tricks has been to start building some custom brushes and patterns.
For example, last week I got wise and made a fishnet pattern, and I also created a "JP" brush to make adding my signature a little easier.
Today I made a new brush that amuses me greatly, and though there's exactly one person who reads this who will appreciate why it amuses me, I thought I'd share an example of some quick work done with my Kirby Krackle brush:
Being at the fire stations last night, and more specifically in the bays, reminded me of my time(however brief) as a garbageman, what with all of the exhaust fumes from the trucks. Add in some maggots and the always-present underlying smell of rot and it would have been like old home week.
Speaking of garbage, apart from following some tutorials and creating the above-mentioned brush, the only thing I've done today was haul out some garbage
I was going to do my standard Monday morning grocery shopping, but decided that could wait until Tuesday morning.
Oh yeah, I did do one other thing, inspired by one of the tutorials: I designed a new T-shirt and put it up on Zazzle.
Here's the image I designed for it:
As you can see, it's the perfect holiday stocking stuffer, so follow the link to Zazzle over on the right and buy a bunch of them.
For example, last week I got wise and made a fishnet pattern, and I also created a "JP" brush to make adding my signature a little easier.
Today I made a new brush that amuses me greatly, and though there's exactly one person who reads this who will appreciate why it amuses me, I thought I'd share an example of some quick work done with my Kirby Krackle brush:
Being at the fire stations last night, and more specifically in the bays, reminded me of my time(however brief) as a garbageman, what with all of the exhaust fumes from the trucks. Add in some maggots and the always-present underlying smell of rot and it would have been like old home week.
Speaking of garbage, apart from following some tutorials and creating the above-mentioned brush, the only thing I've done today was haul out some garbage
I was going to do my standard Monday morning grocery shopping, but decided that could wait until Tuesday morning.
Oh yeah, I did do one other thing, inspired by one of the tutorials: I designed a new T-shirt and put it up on Zazzle.
Here's the image I designed for it:
As you can see, it's the perfect holiday stocking stuffer, so follow the link to Zazzle over on the right and buy a bunch of them.
Sunday, November 26, 2006
Well, Okay, Maybe A Couple Sexy Vacation Pictures
Yesterday Brian asked me to come over to the fire station tonight to be the videographer for his duty crew.
Even though I had a big night of sitting around watching TV planned, I agreed.
I hung out for a little over 3 and a half hours and my presence served as, depending upon your perspective, either a good luck charm or a bad luck charm, in that their 36+ hour streak of not getting any calls continued the whole time I was there.
The pulse-pounding ride over to a nearby restaurant for dinner and the white-knuckled ride over to the old station to put together a sign for the upcoming spine-tingling pancake breakfast didn't quite warrant video coverage, but I did take a few (sexy) pictures to immortalize the evening.
Enjoy the sexiness!
Check out this sexy bald beast. Does the carpet match the drapes? Only his stylist knows for sure.
Look out, ladies; I'm too hot for even the fire department to handle!
Here we see an example of their high-tech, state-of-the-art firefighting equipment.
Upstairs at the old station Brian took me through a time warp and we travelled back to a simpler time, a time of neon, big hair, and workout outfits. A time when there probably weren't any chicks in the fire company. This seriously seemed like making a visit to my brother's dorm room in the mid-80s.
All snarky, smart-ass comments aside, despite the lack of action it was interesting to have an inside look at this aspect of Brian's life and the inner workings of a volunteer fire company. With any luck, half the city burst into flames shortly after I left and the crew got plenty of excitement. Here's hoping!
Even though I had a big night of sitting around watching TV planned, I agreed.
I hung out for a little over 3 and a half hours and my presence served as, depending upon your perspective, either a good luck charm or a bad luck charm, in that their 36+ hour streak of not getting any calls continued the whole time I was there.
The pulse-pounding ride over to a nearby restaurant for dinner and the white-knuckled ride over to the old station to put together a sign for the upcoming spine-tingling pancake breakfast didn't quite warrant video coverage, but I did take a few (sexy) pictures to immortalize the evening.
Enjoy the sexiness!
Check out this sexy bald beast. Does the carpet match the drapes? Only his stylist knows for sure.
Look out, ladies; I'm too hot for even the fire department to handle!
Here we see an example of their high-tech, state-of-the-art firefighting equipment.
Upstairs at the old station Brian took me through a time warp and we travelled back to a simpler time, a time of neon, big hair, and workout outfits. A time when there probably weren't any chicks in the fire company. This seriously seemed like making a visit to my brother's dorm room in the mid-80s.
All snarky, smart-ass comments aside, despite the lack of action it was interesting to have an inside look at this aspect of Brian's life and the inner workings of a volunteer fire company. With any luck, half the city burst into flames shortly after I left and the crew got plenty of excitement. Here's hoping!
There Will Be No Sexy Vacation Pictures
So I’m on vacation for the next two weekends, which means I don’t have to go back to work until December 14th.
I don’t really have much in the way of plans as, per usual, I’m just burning off excess vacation time.
As I was on my way out the door from work yesterday (it was slow so our boss said one of us could leave early, so I did, as Scott left early last week), Scott told me to enjoy my time off and added, “And DO something!”
I probably won’t listen, though I do have plans to wander around downtown Leesburg on Friday night with Kathleen for what’s called “First Friday.” On the first Friday of every month the various downtown businesses stay open later than usual to allow people to browse through them.
That’ll probably be the extent of the excitement for my 22 days off from work.
Last night Kathleen called me to let me know that she and Brian were at the bar they usually hang out at and that there was a band and that I was invited to join them.
I thought about it, but I was pretty tired (I was falling asleep on the couch as I switched back and forth between Flip That House on TLC and some show about the animals that populated the earth before the rise of dinosaurs on the Discovery Channel…I know how to party!) and I’d already been settled in for the evening since I’d gotten home at 4:30, so there was no chance of me going anywhere.
My Thanksgiving was marked by a very long, very slow day at work, though I spent the second half of it feeling completely stuffed as management provided us with a very good Thanksgiving feast.
Scott’s wife Stacy stopped in with the girls to join us for the meal, as the feast was open to the families of employees and even to employees who weren’t working that day.
In fact, one lady from our department who works weekday overnights came in with her family. There were so many of them that my first thoughts were of the “Orphanarium” on Futurama.
I was tempted to take advantage of some of the crazy Black Friday deals on HDTVs on Friday morning, but ultimately decided that I couldn’t justify the expense right now.
The thing that made the Friday “black” for me was just how goddamn long it took for the day to be over. It was insane. At one point I was convinced that it had to be like 3:00 in the afternoon. It wasn’t even 10 AM!
Even watching Brian fail in his attempts to fly his remote control helicopter (which we could periodically hear him flying around in the room he works in that day and the next) around in the lobby could do little to make the day pick up the pace.
Having three days in which no upper management types would be around instead of just one meant that I had a lot of time to get caught up on my comic book reading, though the time still moved excruciatingly slowly, so getting to leave early yesterday was a real bonus.
If things had gone according to plan I would have had my condo development’s holiday party coming up next Sunday, but it turns out that when we planned for that date we did so without knowing that the clubhouse wouldn’t be available then, so we had to move it to the 8th.
Turns out also that I wasted my time making up a flier, as the management company for our homeowners’ association was taking care of that. Oh well.
I’m not even sure I’m going to go, but I suppose that I should, though if I weren’t on vacation I’d be totally unlikely to, as it’s on a Friday night.
In any case, I think I’m going to do some laundry and get some cleaning done today. I may be back with more later.
I don’t really have much in the way of plans as, per usual, I’m just burning off excess vacation time.
As I was on my way out the door from work yesterday (it was slow so our boss said one of us could leave early, so I did, as Scott left early last week), Scott told me to enjoy my time off and added, “And DO something!”
I probably won’t listen, though I do have plans to wander around downtown Leesburg on Friday night with Kathleen for what’s called “First Friday.” On the first Friday of every month the various downtown businesses stay open later than usual to allow people to browse through them.
That’ll probably be the extent of the excitement for my 22 days off from work.
Last night Kathleen called me to let me know that she and Brian were at the bar they usually hang out at and that there was a band and that I was invited to join them.
I thought about it, but I was pretty tired (I was falling asleep on the couch as I switched back and forth between Flip That House on TLC and some show about the animals that populated the earth before the rise of dinosaurs on the Discovery Channel…I know how to party!) and I’d already been settled in for the evening since I’d gotten home at 4:30, so there was no chance of me going anywhere.
My Thanksgiving was marked by a very long, very slow day at work, though I spent the second half of it feeling completely stuffed as management provided us with a very good Thanksgiving feast.
Scott’s wife Stacy stopped in with the girls to join us for the meal, as the feast was open to the families of employees and even to employees who weren’t working that day.
In fact, one lady from our department who works weekday overnights came in with her family. There were so many of them that my first thoughts were of the “Orphanarium” on Futurama.
I was tempted to take advantage of some of the crazy Black Friday deals on HDTVs on Friday morning, but ultimately decided that I couldn’t justify the expense right now.
The thing that made the Friday “black” for me was just how goddamn long it took for the day to be over. It was insane. At one point I was convinced that it had to be like 3:00 in the afternoon. It wasn’t even 10 AM!
Even watching Brian fail in his attempts to fly his remote control helicopter (which we could periodically hear him flying around in the room he works in that day and the next) around in the lobby could do little to make the day pick up the pace.
Having three days in which no upper management types would be around instead of just one meant that I had a lot of time to get caught up on my comic book reading, though the time still moved excruciatingly slowly, so getting to leave early yesterday was a real bonus.
If things had gone according to plan I would have had my condo development’s holiday party coming up next Sunday, but it turns out that when we planned for that date we did so without knowing that the clubhouse wouldn’t be available then, so we had to move it to the 8th.
Turns out also that I wasted my time making up a flier, as the management company for our homeowners’ association was taking care of that. Oh well.
I’m not even sure I’m going to go, but I suppose that I should, though if I weren’t on vacation I’d be totally unlikely to, as it’s on a Friday night.
In any case, I think I’m going to do some laundry and get some cleaning done today. I may be back with more later.
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