Diary of a Network Geek

So, you may have noticed that I haven’t written as much lately.
Well, okay, maybe you haven’t because I have a giant backlog of posts just waiting for when I feel a little off and un-writerly. Still, these are generic posts and contain virtually nothing personal or important. There’s a reason. Of course, that’s silly, isn’t it? There’s always a reason!

Saturday night, after Mercy Street, I went out to dinner with some friends. More specifically, some friends that aren’t the Prayer Team. A buddy of mine, J., his new girl/woman/whatever, L., a special lady, C., and, the reason I jumped at the chance to go with this crew, Jennifer. She’s one of the two girls I could have changed my life for at that New Year’s party that L. threw. The one from out of state, not out of the country. So, of course, I jumped at the chance. I mean, a cute, young red-head who spent time in the Peace Corps and is about to finish her MBA? Yeah, an evening spent in conversation with her would be just fine.
In any case, we get to the restaurant and everyone is talking about what they’re going to order. J. gets some queso for the entire table, because, well, because he apparently has a very special relationship with cheese. But, that leads to a discussion about weight and diet. And, I talk about how I’d like to loose a few more pounds.
“Yeah, you looked really different when I met you four years ago”, J. said.
“Oh?” asked L.
“Yeah, I was on my way to being ‘little Jim’ at the time.”
“Weren’t you already little when I met you?” asked J.
“No, but, I was by the end of that year.”
“Yeah, you lost a lot of weight that year”, added J.
“Really? How much?” asked L.
“Well, I started out at around 230 and before the year was out, I’d bounced off 175 for a week or two.”
“Whoa! That’s a huge change! How’d you do it?” asked L.
“Well, I was out of work for a year, my now ex hadn’t even made a move toward working and I was doing everything I could to take care of my little family. I had no good prospects for jobs, thanks to the Enron thing. I was quickly running out of money and the bills kept coming and I had no idea how I was going to pay them. I got so depressed that I stopped eating. So, you know, that severe depression really takes the weight off.”
Apparently, by the time I was done with that little tale of woe, poor L., who is a dear, sweet, sensitive soul, had heard a whole lot of pain, because when I was done and looked at her, I got this slightly shocked, pitiful look and a very, small, quiet, “Oh, Jim, I’m so sorry…” To which I shrugged, smiled and said, “Hey, it happens. Regardless, I made it through, didn’t I?”
But, then, I felt so old. My buddy, J., is the same age I am, but he had no idea what it was like trying to support a family and knowing that there was no way I could make it without help. Help that wasn’t coming from anyone I lived with at the time. I realized that I’d lived an entire life, then watched it crumble into bits and fly off on the wind. And, here I was, left still standing to build another life with hardly any idea where to start. And, damn, if that didn’t make me feel like the oldest person at the table. And, all I can think after I’d said that was that I’d just ruined my chances with Jennifer sitting next to me. Of course, it’s very, very, highly unlikely that she’s going to move back to Houston after she gets her MBA anyway, but, still, a guy can dream.
But, it gets “better”…
So, we’re all walking out to our cars and everyone points theirs out and so on, trying to figure where to separate and hug and whatnot. I laugh and point out my car, saying, “Well, I can always spot my car. How many retired police cars can there be in a lot?”
And, L., trying to be her usual nice self, says, “I like it. It’s got personality.”
Ugh. Personality. I told J. when I saw him Sunday night, that I’d trade all that personality for a double helping of normal. He told me that it’d be okay and I’d drive something nice and normal again one day.
I didn’t have the heart to tell him that I wasn’t talking about the car.

Yeah, it’s not years that get me, but, sometimes, it sure is the milage.

Yep, Linux-based satellites.
Mainly built using off-the-shelf equipment, too! According to this article on LinuxElectrons.com, the 100kg devices will have room for a 40kg payload and can generate up to 80watts of power for experiments. The satellite OS is a real-time Linux that “…uses CORBA-based object oriented interfaces for subsystems as well as commanding from the ground via the Internet.” In other words, you could control this bad boy via any Internet-connected PC.
This is cool and all, but am I the only one who sees the military/terrorist applications of this? 40kg is a pretty hefty payload, especially if it was all fissionable material. Imagine, if you can be paranoid along with me for a moment, a vast network of these nasty devices that have small cameras and GPS units for positioning and targeting. Now, imagine terrorist cells that just need a web interface, and some privacy to allow for the communication lag time, to unleash them on major cities. Just point and click!
God, I hope someone is regulating their sale and use….

I am not a patient man.
Well, at least I don’t think I am. I have friends who tell me differently, but I think they underestimate how cool I can keep my outer facade. I’m the kind of guy who stands in front of the microwave saying, “c’mon, c’mon, I don’t have all day!”
I think part of that issue is a result of what I do for a living. I’m always working on three things at once, if not more. I always have a line of people waiting to ask me a question or to ask me to do something for them. Even when I get home, I’m always providing computer support for someone, often my mother via phone to Chicago. Usually, I’m walking her through something while I eat dinner, or make it. And, of course, there’s the endless list of things to do, of things I’m responsible for and people I’m responsible to. Now, imagine when things aren’t going well…
But, none of that is a problem, really. I mean, I’m kind of used to it. That sort of pressure-cooker is where I live. In fact, I feel better since things have gotten busier for me at work. Except for one thing… I was talking to one of the bosses a couple of days ago about a problem with a laptop. He was telling me what he wanted, or how I should proceed, and I interrupted him at least twice to try and tell him I got it and get out to get it done.
First, that’s just plain rude of me, and I hate that. I hate being rude, especially unintentionally. It’s one thing to snub someone on purpose to send them a message, but, there’s nothing I hate worse about myself than being accidentally, carelessly rude.
Second, not a bright idea to interrupt a guy who can fire me on a whim, you know?

Here’s the deal on this, though. I was told for years that I interrupted someone, but, once I timed it and I actually waited over a minute for a response to a question I asked in the middle of a conversation. That’s a full sixty seconds, folks. Now, I’ll grant that maybe I was expecting too much, but, well, I think fast. It’s something that both comes naturally to me and that I’m required to do by my work. Fast thinking and fast decisions. So, I do try to wait and not steamroller over people, but… But, I’m impatient. I’ve got stuff to do! I only have so many hours of life on this planet and I have a lot to get done, so, I at least need to know that someone has heard me and needs more time to think. Heck, we can even come back to it later, days later. But, rest assured, I will bring it up again. Delay as an avoidance tactic doesn’t work well with me. I am tenacious.
But, I hate being percieved as rude, or short tempered, or, even, impatient. So, I’m working on it. As I’ve told people before, I have to know about a problem before I can fix it. At least this time, I see it for myself. Hopefully, I’m seeing it in the correct perspective this time around and giving it the attention it needs. So, I hope you all will have patience with my impatience. I’m trying as slowly as I can.

Advice from your Uncle Jim:
"Those who dance are considered insane by those who can't hear the music."
   --George Carlin

Yes, blood-thirsty, cute, fluffy bunnies.
Actually, it’s a game. No, don’t ask how I found this because I will not reveal my super-secret source. And, it’s a little embarassing. Anyway, Killer Bunnies is this relatively new card game wherein one tries to keep as many of your own bunnies alive while killing as many of your opponents. I have not played this game, but it sounds like it would appeal to the same side of me that likes listening to Rob Zombie. A twisted combonation of dark malice and sweet rays of sunshine. And, now, you can make your own, very special killer bunnies for the game with Killer Bunny Blanks. Doesn’t that sound like the perfect gift for the up and coming Goth in your house?

Hey, what do you want from me here? It’s been a long week.
(What? This doesn’t seem like fun to you? Come back next week for more Geek Pickup Lines, then.)

So, I’ve been a little, well, off, the past couple of days.
There’s a reason, but, frankly, not one I want to put out for everyone to read. My regular readers, who have left good e-mail addresses, will most likely get a private e-mail with why. But, I won’t post it. The e-mail will make it clear, but, yes, there’s a girl involved. Hey, with me, there’s always a girl involved.
In any case, after a day of hell at the office, combined with the purgatory that’s become my personal life, I decided that I’d take my favorite girl for a ride. I’ve been listening to lots of new music lately, everything from Rob Zombie to Bowling For Soup to the Brian Setzer Orchestra. And, most of that gets listened to in my car, so I’ve really enjoyed driving the Black Beast, as I call my Crown Vic. It’s a retired police crusier, that still has the big V-8 and police tranny on it. Burns gas like an open fire, but it’s got a smooth ride and never has trouble accelerating into traffic on the highway.
Anyway, I popped in some Gwen Stefani and picked up my favorite redhead for a little drive and some dinner. Of course, I mean Hilda, my dog. And dinner was a trip to PetSmart for her, and some 99¢ tacos from Jack-in-the-Box for me. Well, okay, I shared some of them with her, too. I spoil her a little extra when I’m feeling down at all. She always appreciates it and always shows me love. Now, if I could just find a nice girl who felt the same way…

I threw out six more bags of junk this weekend.
Six bags of old makeup and burnt out curling irons and makeup and old perfume samplers and makeup. I have never seen so much old, useless, half-used makeup in my entire life. I imagine that must be what it looks like when a cosmetic department gets a stomach virus and vomits pastel and earth-tone pencils, powders, tubes and brushes. Dozens upon dozens of lipsticks alone… I felt like I’d been rummaging through a drag queen’s refuse. Oh, and, of course, I found even more shoes! But, I regained another few cubic inches of my house. Little by little, sometimes in volumes so small as to be barely noticeable, I’m regaining my house, my home, myself.
I also worked outside for a few hours this weekend. Raking some of the dead, matted grass in part of my back yard and seeding the front where I let so much grass die that the neighbors asked about it. Mainly, last year, I was just so depressed that I didn’t care, so lots of plants died in my yard. Now, though, as I come back to life, so does the greenery around me. I still have a lot more to do, of course, but, it’s started turning around.
It’s funny, but this all seemed so overwhelming not too long ago, but, then, something changed. Something inside me shifted, adjusted, rearranged and I felt motivated, almost required, to start moving on this stuff. As a friend says, change is inevitable, but my direction is optional. So, I just started in on it, working a little at a time, until there’s enough change that I feel better about, well, about everything. I try to remind myself that I don’t need to change everything at once, though I still try to do that. As my mother would say, “Inch by inch, life a cinch. Mile by mile, life’s a trial.” So, inch by inch, I’m reinventing myself and gaining my life back.

Advice from your Uncle Jim:
"It is better to be approximately right than precisely wrong."
   --Warren Buffet

The top eleven Geek Pickup lines, fourth edition, as stolen from BBSpot, for your Friday afternoon funny:

Geek Pick-Up Lines: Part 4
11. I have so much love to give you’ll have to pipe it through more.
10. Did you make a Google Bomb? Whatever I search for, it’s you I find.
9. Do you work for a TelCom? Because I bet you’d be good at pulling cable.
8. I was hoping you wouldn’t block my pop-up.
7. Would you like to play Scrabble with me? I am tired of playing with myself.
6. You compute me.
5. Girl, I wish I was your differential, because then I’d be touching all your curves.
4. But enough about me, let’s talk about mu.
3. Be my queen and mate me with your knight moves.
2. You’ve stolen the ASCII to my heart.
1. You must’ve been made by Intel to be that hot!

And, just as a side note, if you’re in Houston, female, over the age of twenty-one and any of these would work on you, drop me a line! 😉

When I was in college, I learned a lot of unexpected things.
For instance, we had this pond on campus that was stocked with all kinds of fish by the Federal Game and Wildlife Administration. I mean, this little pond had some of the best looking rainbow trout that you’d ever want to see and the campus let you fish there, assuming you had the proper state license and all. Well, I used to walk around this pond, which was out the back door of my dorm, any time I needed to clear my head, or mull things over, or just get away from my roommate for a few minutes. A lot of the time, there were people fishing there, but very few ever pulled anything out. Then, one night, right at dusk, I see a guy pulling fish out almost as fast as he can bait his hook and drop his line. It was incredible! In the space of fifteen minutes, I watched this guy pull at least five fish out of that pond! At least half of them were keepers, too. So, my curiosity getting the better of me, I finally introduced myself and asked how he did it. He looked around to make sure no one else could see and then reached into his tackle box. When he stood up, he had a little can of Green Giant Sweet Corn Nibblets. And, as he explained that the fish came from hatcheries where they were corn fed, he poured some of the sweet juice into the water by the bridge we were standing on, then baited his hook with a few kernels of corn. Sure enough, by the time he was dropping his line in, there were already fish coming up to the surface to look for corn. So, it just goes to show you, if you want nibbles, all you have to do is use the right bait.
So, toward that end, I’m trying to “improve” myself. I’ve been working on my spiritual side for the past year, at least. (Whoa, that sounds so hippy and new-agey!) I’m working on my wardrobe, too. My plan is to buy a few new shirts, or pants, or whatever, each month until I have a new, updated wardrobe. Not too big a departure, of course, but newer, hopefully higher quality, and, for a change, some clothes that fit right. You may notice the survey to the right, about new jeans. Please, feel free to vote on what you’d like to see me get. I rely on my now mostly female readership to keep me stylish. It’s a big job, so, I can’t expect one poor soul to be saddled with that thankless task. I’ll have more of these surveys as time goes on. Please, feel free to participate, but don’t feel any pressure. I’m also working on getting back into shape. (Yes, I was in pretty damn good shape once!) After I get the Room From Hell cleaned up and emptied out, I’ll make it into a workout space. I’m especially looking forward to hitting my heavy bag again. Nothing takes the weight off faster, or makes me leaner, than the old boxing workout. It’s also good practice for a very valuable life skill! I’m also going to take up walking, at least, if not try running. I’m not sure my knees are up to it, honestly, as I have bad genes for a distance runner. Good genes for a sprinter, ironically, but bad genes for distance. In any case, towards that end, last night, I bought $94 running shoes for $31.27. Thanks REI! A closeout shoe, combined with a 20% off coupon, combined with an unexpected dividend because I’ve been a member of the “Collective” since 1994, or so, made me a very happy man. Sometimes, God does smile on me!
Now, what’s that all got to do with bait? Well, I’m trying to date again, so, you figure it out!

When I get a little money I buy books; and if any is left, I buy food and clothes.
– Desiderius Erasmus

So, I tried the Bookstore Method again last night, against the recommendation of at least one of my readers. Honestly, it’s not working well for me, in spite of what my therapist tells me about how well it works for his other client, who, in fact, originated the process. I’m not sure if it’s that I’m too picky, or just too cowardly, but the pickings always seem slim. Here’s how it went…

I glide into the store as casually as a desperately lonely man can, trying to look as completely uninterested in anything in particular. I glance at the sale books in the entrance way and pick up a departure for me, Dirty Little Secrets, which looks like a freakish combination of a chick book with an action thriller. Way, way outside my normal reading and perfect to get me into the nonconventional mindset I’ll need to survive the night. Then, I browse through the first tables of new books and see The Ethical Assassin : A Novel, which established a grim, little theme for my chances. So, now I have two books about murder and mayhem in unusual settings, right? Must be time for the magazine section! Yea!
And, as I prowled over to the glossy rags, I remembered I was there to find a date, not spend money I don’t have on books I won’t read for months. So, as I pickup the latest Writer’s Digest, I start watching for likely ladies out of the corner of my eye. (See, I’m being all sly-like, so I can sneak up on them and pounce when even I don’t suspect it!) Sadly, there were only men around the row I was in, so I loop around and see Plaza Magazine, which caught me with the headline “Japan Issue: Capsule Living With Kurokawa”. I mean, with my total fascination regarding all things Japanese, how could I resist? But, still, no groovy chicks, so it was on the next row for Blender, because I need to update my musical taste if I’m going to date. After all, I’m told the hottest of the hotties are into music. Personally, I wouldn’t know. Thelonious Monk aside, I don’t know squat about music or what’s musically cool right now, so, for all I know, I’m hip as all get out. I doubt it, but, still, you never know. I’m hoping that if I hold on long enough, I’ll swing around and be retro again. That was when I saw her, grabbing that Blender. She was dressed down in running gear, casually flipping through a magazine and leaned up against the end of the row where the movie magazines are. But, she seemed a little tense, so I watched her out of the corner of my eye while pretending to scan the movie rags. Forgetting my purpose for a moment, I spotted one of my obscure favorites, Asian Cult Cinema. The current issue was Thai Cinema, so I leaned over to get it, startling the poor, nervous cutie reading her magazine. Then, I saw why she seemed tense. She was looking at the latest Sports Illustrated. You know, the Swimsuit Edition? Yeah, so, either she’s really cool and just checking it out for, uh, actually, I have no idea why she’d be cool and checking it out. She’s a chick. If I understood chicks, I wouldn’t be blogging this, I’d be cooking her breakfast. My bet was she was a lesbian. Why? Because, that’d be just my luck. Anyone want to take that bet? Yeah, me neither.
So, then it was a quick tour through philosophy, where I saw On Bullshit by Harry G. Frankfurt. It’s a short one, so I picked it up to read while I had my beverage of the evening. After that, I popped upstairs to the language section. I wanted to grab a Vietnamese Dictionary & Phrasebook because I’d “Wink”ed at a Vietnamese girl on Match.com and I thought learning a few words of her language would be cool. Especially because I love language and she could totally correct my mispronunciation of the complicated, tonal language. (Sadly, she opted out on me, but, at least I have the book.) So, then it was over to the writing section to see what they had to help me with my pitiful plots. I found The 3 A.M. Epiphany: Uncommon Writing Exercises That Transform Your Fiction, which appealed to me because that was about when I got the idea for the best story I almost sold o many years ago. And, just because it was funny, Plots Unlimited caught my attention. Of course, it’s a total gimmick book, but I bought it anyway, again, because it was funny. And, as long as I was indulging in a little retail therapy at this point, I decided to check out some music by way of the martial arts section. I love martial arts philosophy because it’s so practical, so when I saw Be Like Water: Practical Wisdom from the Martial Arts, I knew I had one of my minimum four spirituality books for the year. And, about that time, I noticed The Best of Dave Lowry, who is one of the world’s best writers on the Japanese martial arts. This book collects the best of his Black Belt magazine articles in one place. Very cool. So, then it was music, I was in a funky mood, so I went looking for something with an edge. What I found was Past, Present & Future [with Bonus DVD] by Rob Zombie. Hey, I don’t have a kid who’s too into Goth music in my house right now, so, I can indulge in some heavy metal. What do you want from me? It’s actually great music to do aerobic workouts to. Honest. Besides, while finding Zombie, Gimme Fiction by Spoon caught my eye. I know nothing about it, but I have a vague memory that someone, somewhere thought it was good, so I figured I’d take the risk.
So, now, totally weighed down with books and magazines, I head over to Smarmy Lad in the Hell of Mediocre Coffee. He, of course, goads me with his hypercaffinated, but artificial, cheeriness, trying to rush me so he can do two orders at once. But, as I mentioned, I’m in a mood, so I give him a hearty “Yeah, I’ll get back to you in a second on that”, which, I’m pleased to say, threw him off his game. Ha! Take that slacker boy! And, I got to stand there with a giant pile of heavy books showing off my muscle while pretending that holding forty pounds of books in one outstretched hand is no big deal. And, finally, just before my arm completely failed, he came back and took my order. Instead of my usual Italian Fascist Blend, I had a kinder, gentler iced mocha chai. While I was paying, I had to endure his lengthy sales pitch for Border’s new marketing, er, “discount” program.
“I’m not sure if you’re going to get all those books tonight, but you’ll get a…”
“Yeah, okay, fine. I’ll take it.”
“Great! You know you’ll really save! And, you’ll start getting the better coupons!”
“Uh-huh.”
“Why, you’ll even get coupons for the Cafe here!”
“Yeah. Great.” So, pretty much at this point the easy sell has really upset his little apple cart and he has no idea that he can stop babbling. I decide to stop listening instead. Easier and less likely to make me want to lobotomize myself with a knitting needle. But, I survive the process and sip my frozen mocha chai while I read On Bullshit, both of which were surprisingly good. And, then, it’s getting late and I’ve pretty well given up on actually meeting someone, so, I head down to the cashier with my books. When I check out, I get the book that actually brought me out to the bookstore, No Plot? No Problem! and beat a hasty retreat home, while listening to Rob Zombie.
And, what did I learn last night? Well, I learned that, while this might be a proven method for one guy, it’s not working for me very well. I learned that following through even when I’m not in a good mood does not produce the best results. But, most importantly, I learned something about myself. Something best summarized by a quote from On Bullshit:
“Our natures are, indeed, elusively insubstantial – notoriously less stable and less inherent than the natures of other things. And insofar as this is the case, sincerity itself is bullshit.”
And, that, kids, just about sums up my day yesterday. Today has got to be better. Right?