Diary of a Network Geek

Thankfully, the chaos belongs to other people for a change.

So, my buddy, J., got his ring back yesterday morning. We have him on, more or less, suicide watch. I’m not sure how many nights he’s going to be hanging at Hoffman’s Home for Wayward Boys, and he may not spend the entire night, but I’m sure he’ll be over more than once between now and Christmas.
Here’s how it went down….

Saturday night, J. stayed home from church because he wasn’t feeling well. And, in fact, we talked earlier in the afternoon about that and how the anitbiotics were draining him and making him feel even more depressed than normal. We also talked about getting fitted for tuxedos next weekend, in preparation for the wedding and as a show of good faith to L., J.’s fiance, that he was committed to the wedding. So, when he didn’t show at church, I didn’t think much of it, but I also noticed that L. wasn’t at church either, which was a bit worrying, considering the tender state of affairs with the wedding and their relationship. Ironically, I ended up sitting with J.’s last ex-fiance, who’s been through her own wedding announcement only to have it called off for reasons unknown to the general public. I have my own speculations on that, but nothing concrete. She was having a rough evening, too, but I managed to coax a smile out of her.

I may not have many talents when it comes to the opposite sex, but making them laugh seems to be chief amongst the ones I do seem to manage.

In any case, after church was over, I called over to see what J. was doing for dinner and he let me know that L. was over and they’d just had dinner. By then, I was outside in the parking lot and realized that I didn’t really feel like going to dinner with anyone, so I zipped home and indulged in a little Mickey D’s along the way. And, to be honest, at this point, I figured things were pretty well on an even keel with the two of them and the wedding and all. No worries, right?

Not quite.
I usually sleep late on Sunday, having been to church the night before. But yesterday, I got a call a little before 8:00am that woke me. I’m sure J. had been staring at the phone, waiting until it was a “decent hour” to call for some time before that. He tells me he’s still depressed and afraid to get married. He tells me that L. has suggested that he look at some other unresolved issues that might be causing his depression and the implication is that he’s still got cold feet about the wedding. He tells me that he thinks all the doubt is telling him not to get married yet and that he doesn’t love, really love, L. He tells me that she’s on her way over to “talk” and, probably, give the ring back.
He asked if I’d stay with him on the phone until she got there. Naturally, I just kept talking with him while I let the dog out, got a cup of coffee and pulled on a robe. When she arrived, J. told me he’d call after they were done.

That turn of phrase ended up being a little more prophetic than one would suppose.
They do, indeed, seem to be done. After a several hour “talk”, wherein she actually sung his praises, the poor bastard, she returned the ring. Sadly, because she adored him so much, now, the possibility of them remaining friends is, well, not very good at all. Seeing him that way would be too painful for her. Just like J. seeing K. when she made the announcement about her engagement, even though that, too, has been called off.
The really heart-breaking thing for me, however, was when J. sobbed into the phone that he might have just made the biggest mistake of his life, that maybe he did actually love her after all. I’m fairly certain that all I could muster was “Aw, dude…” What can I say in the face of that sharp a personal tragedy? Not content to ride it out, he’d done the worst thing and made a decision. A decision he’s not happy with having made. At least I had the presence of mind not to tell him that he really “screwed the pooch” on this one.
Besides, I’ve mellowed with age.

Now, I’m sure a part of him was thinking he could do better, but, really, I don’t think he could have.  She isn’t the thinest, tiny-waisted thing, but her curves looked just fine.  And, she was patient enough to have gone through this for more than two months, back and forth, which is more than anyone should have to endure.  She’s also smart as a whip and was as caring and solicitous of his friends (ie. me) as a guy could ask for.  But, now, she’s gone.  Poor guy.  I suppose only time will tell if this is a permanent thing or not, but, frankly, I don’t think he can crawl long enough, or low enough, to get her back at this point.

It’s going to be a long week for both of them.

Advice from your Uncle Jim:
"Life lived for tomorrow will always be just a day away from being realized."
   --Leo Buscaglia

I’ve got the spirit.

The spirit of Christmas, that is!
Hey, look for the first time in three years, I actually put up a  tree.  And I live alone, so there’s no one to see it.  Well, no one but the girls at work who saw it on my cellphone and cooed.  Okay, so now you know the real reason I put up the tree, but still…

Well, in keeping with the speedily approaching holiday, I’ve got some toy and Christmas related links for you.
First, there’s a virtual Advent Calendar.  Each day links to a Christmas memory and a link to something fun.  For instance, the second day had a “paint your own Christmas tree” web thing.  Kind of cool.
Next, I have a link to a BoingBoing article about an illustrator from Popular Science magazine who makes the most incredible Rube Goldberg Christmas cards you’ve ever seen.  Really, you have to look at these and wonder.
Now, when Christmas is over, you have all kinds of boxes laying around, right?  Well, don’t throw them out!  Instead, use carboard rivets to make them into something cool to play with!
If you’re looking for a great stocking stuffer for geeks, try the Christmas Stocking USB drive.  Yeah, it’s kind of specialized, but, hey, it is a USB drive they can enjoy all year long.
But, for my money?  The coolest thing  I’ve seen all year is the Custom Action Figure.  Yes, this is not just a web toy.  You can design and actually purchase the GI Joe-sized action figure you design.  And, considering the customization factor, the prices are damned reasonable.

So, now you have a way to waste a little time with just 8 shopping days until Christmas.  How much work were you planning to do this week anyway?

I finished The Stupidest Angel by Christopher Moore this week.

I’d been trying to slog my way through A Practical Guide to Buddhist Meditation, but with my work schedule and the holidays and all, I just couldn’t get into it. I mean, I’m sure it would have been good for me to start meditating again, but I haven’t done that since college and there are reasons. Mainly, I have no time. I pray and use prayer beads and that’s enough meditation-like behavior for me and my schedule. Besides, I was getting depressed with all my friends either being married or getting married or at least in a serious relationship, so I figured a little literary “pick-me-up” was in order.

In that regard, The Stupidest Angel; A Heartwarming Tale of Christmas Terror was just the thing. Yes, you read that second title right. It wasn’t just a Christmas story, it was also a zombie story. Only Christopher Moore could write something like that and pull it off. The story is set in Pine Cove, which is where a number of Moore’s earlier books were set, and involves a collection of characters from several of his novels. It starts simply enough with some introductions and stage setting for those not familiar with Pine Cove or all of Moore’s other works, then, with an accidental murder, the real story begins. Things get interesting when Raziel, one of the rather more important angels, shows up to work the annual Christmas Miracle that, apparently, has been a gift to mankind every year since the birth of the Christ child. The only problem is, Raziel isn’t the smartest angel and he doesn’t really quite understand our Earth. So, when he decides to grant the Christmas wish of a nice boy who witnessed the accidental murder of a man dressed like Santa Claus, as you might imagine, things go awry. The result is, indeed, a heart-warming tale of Christmas terror, which, incidentally, is a rather odd journey through the Christmas spirit, love, giving, forgiving and belief that only Christopher Moore could lead a reader through successfully. And, as always, Moore’s wit, charm and turn of phrase brought a smile to my face, so, “mission accomplished”.

If you’ve never read one of Moore’s books, The Stupidest Angel is probably not the best place to start. I’d reccomend either Lamb or Practical Demonkeeping as a starting point, but, after that, it doesn’t matter quite so much where you go. Though, I have to admit, reading them in more or less the order of publication keeps you up on all the “in” jokes and cross-references that might otherwise be missed.
In short, I love Christopher Moore’s writing and The Stupidest Angel was no exception.

And, I thought things would slow down this week.

Ha! Well, my work schedule is almost as grueling this week as it has been for the past month. So many things to do at work and so little time. In any case, that means that there’s no real theme to these links, but I found them all at least interesting.

First, since I can’t seem to get enough done or get enough sleep, the idea that someone may have invented a pill that removes my need for sleep strikes me as, well, “interesting”. Okay, to be honest, it’s not quite that good yet, but, still they’re getting there.
Second, since I love gimmicks in the workplace, the idea of monitoring a server via music hits me in the funny bone. Granted, this will only appeal to the geeks among my readers, but I like the idea of having a Linux-based monitor server running that lets me know what’s going on without having to actually watch it. Too much to do to keep eyes glued to monitor for server performance!
Next, in honor of the quickly approaching gift-giving holidays, namely Christmas and Chanukah, I’ve got a link to an article about how LEGOs are made. Who knew so much went into those little bricks I loved to play with as a kid?
And, finally, for the lonely, big kid in all of us who got picked last for kickball, now you can buy fake friends for your MySpace page. It’s actually a service called FakeYourSpace and, apparently, meant to make it seem like “sexy” members of the opposite sex find you irresistable on MySpace. It is an adult service, as evidenced by the pictures of the “friends” on the website, and… And, wow, I’m glad I’m not actually active on MySpace because this just seems, er, ah, well, pathetic. But, you know, I can think of a couple guys I’ve worked with who would do this sort of thing.

Well, anyway, that gives you some small idea where my head has been wandering while I wait for things to happen after hours at work. Crazy stuff, isn’t it?
Have a happy Friday!

I look forward to Christmas.

Thanksgiving has been a hard holiday for me for many years. For years I would get a litany of trangressions recited for me by my ex-wife. All the things that her family allegedly had done or would do at Thanksgiving. Every year, it got a little worse, until… Well, until the end, naturally.

Thursday, I was at my friend J’s house where he and his fiance, L, hosted Thanksgiving. L is exceptionally easy to talk to and, well, she must have asked just the right question to get part of the story of Thanksgiving 2004. You see, that was the year, the Sunday before Thanksgiving, that my ex-wife left. She left while I was in the shower, taking the only working car and her daughter, leaving no note or message of explantion. Just gone. Obviously, I think about that every year now. As the holiday draws closer that other anniversary does, too. But, what caught me a little by surprise was that I’d written down the actual day.

I’ve read from the same daily devotional for several years now. Some time back, I started writing significant things with the year on the day they occurred in this devotional, so that I might be reminded of them each year. On November 21, I have just a single name with the year 2004 written next to it. I know precisely what it means.
I mentioned that to L as I told the story. She commented that, maybe one day, I’d have a different copy of the devotional and write different things in it. But, I told her that I didn’t think I would. I don’t want to forget.  That moment, in part, defines who I am, as do many, many others.  I’m my past as much as I am my present or my future. Who I am today is based on who I was. I’m the choices I made, good and bad. I’m the result of poor planning, worse judgement and pointless struggles, just as I am the result of lucky breaks, hard work and the love and care of those around me.

I’m far from perfect, God knows, but I think I’m a better man than I was five years ago, or even two years ago, because of both the things I got right and the things I got wrong.
And, with every passing year, that feels more and more comfortable.

Saves Nine.” Though, nine what, I have no idea.

I’ve been thinking about buying a sewing machine.
Okay, go ahead. Just get it all out of your system. When you’re done laughing, you can come back and read my reasoning on this.

Done? Great.
The other day, I was cleaning… No, no, it’s okay. You just go ahead and laugh it all right out of your system. I pretty well expected it.
Anyway, as I was cleaning, I found a great, big bundle of really nice, soft grey fabric that had been intended to make me a robe. Well, that was what I intended to be done with it. I was asked what I wanted for Christmas one year, when money was tight, but several hundred dollars of “birthday money” had been spent on a high-end sewing machine. Thinking of the sewing machine, and the owner’s penchant for wasting money on projects that never were completed, I asked for a home-made bath robe. We picked out the pattern and the fabric and, almost five years later, I still have the untouched fabric, but no sewing machine or pattern. And, that got me thinking.

There are a lot of things I could do around the house and yard that would be really cool, if I had a decent sewing machine. I don’t need some high-end, computerized, multi-stitch number with a built-in serger or anything like that. Just something good enough to sew, say medium-weight canvas. With that, not only could I make that robe, but I could recover the sofa cushions. Or make a cover for the entire couch. I could make canvas covers for the porch to replace the now quite aged and brittle translucent, corrugated, fiberglass roofing on it now. I could make privacy shades for the porch. I could make either a canvas roof or privacy shades or both for the semi-mythical teahouse/pavilion I have dreamed of putting up in place of the nasty, old shed in my backyard. Really, the possibilities are endless. And, yes, I would follow through on that. And, I figure, in the long run, it would save me money.

So, how hard is it to teach yourself to sew?

“… Puppy dog tails, that’s what little boys are made of.”

So, really, I don’t have anything to say, but I know that if I don’t post something, people will wonder if the aliens have finally come to carry me away. I keep trying to explain that they’ll get the “special” e-mail from my super-secret automated dead-man switch system if that happens, but, who listens to me? So, instead of anything coherent, y’all are going to get some random snippets in a sort of stream of consciousness update.

I got the Waveceptor the other day, because it was under $30 on a closeout special. So, I’m now on atomic time and not living fifteen minutes into the future. Maybe that’s why I’m so tired?

I made red sauce tonight, but this time I added in a jar of fancy, red peppers, because they were on the shelf and I’d forgotten how long ago I’d bought them. Or, in fact, if I had bought them. And, if I didn’t buy them, who’d put them there… Right, see? Better I should use them now, quick, before they go bad. If they haven’t already.

No word back from anyone about the Craigslist.org post again. No word from the lady in question, in particular. Hopefully, she’ll get word and doesn’t freak out about me still thinking about her. Yes, thanks to my divorce, I worry about being percieved as a crazy stalker, even though I’ve never thought of myself that way before.

My mother has yet to read my blog even though she made such a huge deal about reading it for months before I let her. Parents. Pffft!

I found two writing contests that I’m going to enter. In fact, I started on a story for one, and would be working on it now, if not for my lack of sleep for weeks and a low-level state of delirium. Of course, that might simply add to the atmosphere of surreality and fantasy that I’m trying to capture in my writing.

I sold a William Burroughs t-shirt in my Cafe Press store the other day. But, I’m still not seeing a credit in the store. And, who would buy a XXL black t-shirt with a red silhouette of William S. Burroughs on it anyway?

I’ve almost set up an old Dell laptop for my redneck nephew for Christmas. I hope to get Windows2000 loaded on it for him. I’m working on configuring the WLAN card now, so I can get on-line with it and do updates and stuff. I figure I should try to give him something fairly standard and easy to use, but fun, too.

I was looking at better laptop bags than the freebie I got with the Toshiba. Everything seems like it’s close to what I want, but not quite right. I’ll probably have to go to a store and actually mingle with actual consumers, uh, “consuming” to find the right bag. Then I can pass a bag along to my nephew with the older laptop.

I talked to LK the other day. This “just friends” thing is strange, but kind of cool. Never done it before, with an ex, but it’s sort of nice, really.
Or, I’m delirious.
Whatever.
Okay, time to get the coffee ready for tomorrow and catch some ZZZs.

Okay, so here’s a two-parter, since everyone is so worried.
First, a review. I finished The Spirituality of Imperfection: Storytelling and the Search for Meaning Saturday and started on Year Zero Sunday night.
The Spirituality of Imperfection was a good book, but got a little redundant to me. As you might imagine from the title, this is a book about being, well, less than perfect. In a nutshell, the premise of the book is that only God is perfect and, since we aren’t God, we’re imperfect. What’s more, this is how things are supposed to be and, when one takes this logically, it’s really somewhat silly to expect that we could ever be perfect. The book goes on to explore the different ways that we, as imperfect human beings, deal with this lack, this flaw, and how our search for the meaning of this short-coming leads us closer to God and a deeper spiritual life. Naturally, this search is why I chose this book to read. Though it was given to me by Doc as a late Christmas gift, I set aside the book on Buddhist meditation I was about to start in favor of this because of the many recommendations I got about this one. And, it was, in fact, a good book.
Now, it got a little redundant for me not because of the message, but simply because I know that already. I never had a problem understanding that I wasn’t perfect, but, rather, why I always felt so much pressure to be perfect. My parents always challenged me to simply do the best I could and leave it at that. Of course, I was always asking myself if that was really the best I could do. I was always pushing myself to do more and better, even when I felt that I had nothing left. No matter how depleted I felt, I still pushed to dig deeper still and find that hidden reserve to draw on to do more than anyone else around me. That was in grade school. Yeah, the year, or so, of therapy has helped a lot. So has the support group that I’ve attended for the past four years and my return to church and God.
The last chapter, though, redeemed all the redundant messages. That chapter, titled “Being At Home”, capped this one off very well. The only way to end a book like this is to wrap things up with a chapter about being at ease with one’s imperfection. I’m still working on that, but, well, it’s progress.
(Year Zero, incidentally, is a pot-boiler about a plague from the First Century that gets released into today’s world. It’s interesting so far!)

Now, for the update…
Tomorrow, the Salvation Army will be picking up twenty bags of clothes and shoes from my house. No, not the stripper shoes. Those will go to eBay, most likely. No, these were regular, women’s shoes. An entire 20 gallon, black, plastic garbage bag full of them. And, nineteen more filled with clothes. Yes, that’s twenty (20) bags of children’s and adult’s clothes going out in one, fell swoop. I’m sure as I get rolling on this stuff upstairs, there will be more. And, then, there’ll be the books and furniture and jewelry and… And, I’m just getting started.
Speaking of just getting started… Someone asked about Match.com. Well, we started out strong, then, things tapered off. I’ve sent several women e-mail, but gotten no response yet. Might never get a response. I got one Wink this afternoon from Galveston, but, well, she wasn’t quite my type. (And, no, I don’t mean that she wasn’t my type because she was interested in me!) I don’t know, maybe I’m too picky. I mean, whatever her faults, my ex-wife was quite the looker. Of course, beauty fades fast, but, still, I do have standards after all. And, not to be catty or anything, but there is a very significant difference between “curvy” and “a few extra pounds”. C’mon, let’s be honest. I rated myself as “About average”, but I have to admit, I lean more toward “A few extra pounds” myself. In part, that’s what’s behind the push to get my one room cleaned out. After I get rid of all my ex-wife’s junk, that will become a workout room. She left a Soloflex and I have a free-standing heavy bag. Between the two, I should get a pretty good workout going. I really used to love the heavy bag. When I was in shape, I used to do 20+ minutes on that three times a week. That will definitely trim the fat right off my lazy butt!
Oh, and I haven’t quite given up on the Bookstore Method, either. Unless things go terribly wrong, I plan on hitting the River Oaks Borders tomorrow night. (That’s Tuesday, in case you don’t see this until the morning after I post it.) After that, though, unless things go very well, I’m going to change to the Barnes and Noble by the Galleria. I think the Fourbucks in there should attract the kind of victim, er, potential date, I’m looking for. We’ll see!

Anyway, it’s late and I’ve been drinking Scotch, so I’m off to brush my teeth, set up the coffee for the morning, read a bit and slip off to dreamland.

Okay, I’ll make some that are serious.
So, this coming year, I’ll make a couple of more serious New Year’s Resolutions.

1. I will stop dating married women. (Yeah, there are a couple of stories here and, no, you won’t see them on the blog.)
2. I will stop smoking. Again. Well, cigarettes at least. Eventually. Back off! Remember I have a lighter and I know how to use it!
3. I will have a more active social life, even if that means talking to total strangers and getting rejected over and over and over and ….
4. I will read at least one book on Freemasonry and/or the Knights Templar
5. I will read at least four books on spirituality and/or the history of the Bible
6. I will talk about my crazy ex-wife less. Unless, egged on by friends who know I have a really, really funny riff about how crazy she really was and what it was like living with her like the time she told me to stop breathing. Yeah, really, no joke.
7. I will volunteer for more charitable work, inside and outside my church.
8. I will actually, officially, join my church.
9. I will lose ten sixteen pounds, bringing my weight back under 180 pounds.
10. I will make sure that Christmas and birthday presents arrive on time or early for my niece, nephews and ex-step-daughter, but I will not expect to hear that they recieved them at all, much less on time.
11. I will get at least one more professional certificiation.
12. I will start writing fiction for publication again.
13. I will listen to other’s positive opinions about me more than I listen to my own negative opinions.
14. I will pay random strangers compliments, because who can hear too many nice things about themselves?
15. I will clean my house, ridding myself, piece by piece, of all my ex-wife’s junk.
16. I will entertain at my clean house, inviting friends to bring friends, thereby expanding my circle of friends.

UPDATE:

17. I will learn to weld.
18. I will weld aesthetically pleasing workout equipment for my own use.

(And, yes, I queued this up to post just after midnight while I’m out. I take that Geek moniker just so far.)

Advice from your Uncle Jim:
"Friends may come and go, but enemies accumulate."
   --Thomas Jones

I ate the whole thing…
Well, not the whole thing, but, close enough.
See, I couldn’t afford to be home with family this year for Christmas, so I made Christmas dinner for Doc and I Sunday afternoon. It was good, but, as per usual when I really get into my cooking, I over-indulged a little bit.
Hilda, of course, made out like a bandit. Not only did she get several giant bones from Santa, but stole a large piece of turkey from the counter. She was so cute, though, that I could hardly stay mad at her. Besides, I probably would have given her a piece later, anyway.
Obviously, I survived reading Scripture. You have to picture this, though, the first time I’m reading or speaking in front of a significant crowd in close to 20 years and Mercy Street was packed to overflowing. It was literally standing room only. I think I read too fast, but, according to people in the audience, I did just fine. They should eventually have a podcast of the service available, so, you know I’ll have to go check it out and see how bad I rushed it.
I received a warning phone-call from a friend, followed by a call from his new, er, dating, ah, girl… Oh, whatever she is, she called to invite me to a New Year’s Eve party. Apparently, he was worried that they were going to be a little testosterone impaired, so I got called in for reinforcements. I’ll be bringing my near infamous beer bread, too, so that I’m there for more than my gender. (Hey, a guy’s gotta’ do what a guy’s gotta’ do.)
I abandoned the book I was trying to force myself to finish this weekend, Writing Personal Essays. It just wasn’t giving me any really new information and I was reading it out of some compulsive “need” to finish everything I start or not let even a second-hand book go to waste or something. Anyway, I felt much better setting it down and re-reading my copy of a book I gave Doc for Christmas called Zen in the Martial Arts. Back in the days when I studied a bit of several martial arts, I read this and got a lot out of it. In fact, I used to read this book every couple of years, but I haven’t recently, until this weekend. It was a little frightening how relevant the message was to my life right now.
Today, I’ll start a book I grabbed while waiting in line at Border’s, getting last minute gifts, called The Torturer’s Apprentice. The title grabbed me and the table of contents, with the titles of the short-stories contained therein, really hooked me, so I bought it. It’s literary fiction, which I don’t usually read, so, I’m stepping outside my comfort zone. Again. Seems like a good season to do that.
Though, I’m not stepping too far out. My mother was asking about my blog last night. I told her that there’s nothing here she needs to read. I’m fairly certain that my brother reads the blog, now and again, but he won’t say anything and no one in the family will ask. My mother was just messing with my head. See how my family is? Explains a lot about my warped sense of humor, doesn’t it?