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April 7th, 2005

Listen, do you smell something?

Voicemail Perma-parking count: 4 messages.

Wow.

Just had an interesting talk with my project manager. He wants to know
if I find any interesting jobs out there, since he's pretty fed up with
the way things are going here. I found out more about the yelling this
morning; I can only shrug and shake my head in wonder.

Watching the extras on The Incredibles and seeing the Pixar
offices... What an environment to work in. It's like they want their
people to be creative and feed off of each other and express themselves,
and to actually have fun doing it.
This place has to be the anti-Pixar.

Got another call from the Cali job recruiter-- the job was filled
internally, they were evidently just fishing for salary ranges. The
recruiter was pissed that they would do that to him, but it does tend to
come with the territory. We talked a bit more, and I explained to him
about the house and the responsibilities and that I was planning on
staying around Mineapolis because I was tired of the moving around thing
and needed to stabilize, and he seemed to really dig that.
And he was also asking me if I knew anybody who was into Java and .NET
development, as he seems to have openings in that arena as well. I know
that some of you do that kind of thing, so if you're interested, I can
pass along his contact info with his blessing. It's a toll-free number,
so it can't exactly hurt to call.

The days move slowly, but they do tick away. I am really looking forward
to being back amongst friends and people that I have things in common
with, and being able to spend longer time with my sweet pooch than a few
hours every couple of weeks, and moving forward with creative projects.
This past couple of weeks I've been jonesing to be working on stuff, and
there's a couple more weeks of even sparser creative outlets ahead. The
only real outlet I have now is writing.

I guess that means you should prepare for the worst.

Then of course there's all the womanizing I need to be doing when I get
back home. Yeah, that's the ticket. Dames, babes, skirts, sticks, wool,
birds, sidecars, hubba-hubbas. Teasers, pleasers, pleasure victims,
gotta love 'em all.

Aw, hell, who am I kiddin'. I'm gonna be so damn busy for the next
swizzle months that I ain't gonna have time for no skirt chasin' antics.
Them skirts is gonna have to be doin' the chasin', and it's probably
gonna involve some heavy liftin' and carpentry work if ya know what I
mean. Bricks and mortar, shovel and shale, paint and wallpaper, hammer
and nail. I might find me some time for the occasional massage and black
eye social event, but I gots to keep my eyes on the prize for the time
bein'. Like that old chinese fella says: "lust is the partner of
driftwood".
Never did figure out what he meant by that, but it sure sounds good. And
that ol' boy had a pecker on him the size of a walrus tusk, so I figure
he probably knows a little something about the ladies.

Me? I'm on the straight-and-narrow these days. It don't take much to tie
one on anymore, and those jackhammers in the back of my head hang around
longer and longer every time. Once in a while I'll still throw back a
Jack or two, but all too often it's the siren call o' the sheets that
lure me into the sweet sleep of oblivion. Ain't much room left for
playin' the ol' dog-chasin'-the-car routine. These days I'm much more
likely to just notice the car with a wink and a smile and go back to
nappin'.


Hupa.
Just spending some time doing cleanup on the work machine, decided to
try and send my entire directory of personal e-mail messages that I've
saved for the last year-plus. Started reading them, remembering back to
all of the detailed breakup stuff. At some time I should probably go
through it and watch the progress, but for now it was some pretty heavy
stuff. Not disastrous, but it shows how far I've come in understanding a
lot of personal issues. Since I don't have the messages I sent but just
her responses (some of which have quotes), it's hard to reconstruct
everything. It's just a bit of history that is worth keeping.

And spent a couple of hours trying to chase down a bug, only to discover
it was one of those "Oh, didn't you know that you have to have a CF card
inserted and it has to have a folder on it with this specific name?"
moments. My take on it:
1.) It's not that hard to write code that will create a directory if one
does not exist;
2.) If the copy function fails, it would make sense to put up some sort
of error message.

Having the system simply not save any data through power-down is not a
real good error-checking mechanism. Then again, it's a short-term
problem, and in three weeks it won't be mine.

It's really amazing the multitude of sins that response can cover. I'm
oddly happy right now.
Pretty fucked
10 is your Fuckedness Number! Crazy!
You're pretty fucked for the next four years. Why? I don't know, maybe it's because you're actually smart and have real actual morals, and not just the fake Christian kind. Maybe you're a minority. Whatever the reason, you've got fairly high levels of fuckedness. Prepare yourself. It's gonna be a rough 4 years.




My test tracked 1 variable How you compared to other people your age and gender:


free online dating free online dating
You scored higher than 35% on Fuckedness
Link: The How Fucked by Bush You Are Test written by leelander on Ok Cupid

Apr. 7th, 2005

I'm as packed as I'm gonna get tonight. There are probably a few more things I could have stuffed in the vehicle, but my lungs are not exactly at workout potential, and I'm rapidly out of breath. It took me about twice as long as expected to get everything packed.

Ah, well. It just means that next time I will have to be more prepared.

It may be a few days until I'm back online. Until then, be good. Or if you can't be good, at least take pictures.

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