Diary of a Network Geek

This is not what I intended to write.
Really, it’s not, though I’d imagine my ex-wife will think I planned it just for her. I didn’t, but, then, she always was a paranoid narcissist. And, I know I’ve been writing about her a lot lately, all I can say is that I hope it’s because I feel detached enough from her that I can let that part of my past go and out. Anyway, a recent post on another blog sort of hit me where I live, though not for the reasons one might think. You see, my ex-wife left me twice. The last time, thankfully, for good, but the first time was years ago, before she was my wife.
I was living in Chicago at the time, in a suburb named Mount Prospect. She and I had been involved, in the Bibilcal sense, for a little over a year. She’d left her second husband, though not divorced him, and was lonely. I had obligations to my Masonic Lodge that predated her by several years. In fact, I was in position for a fairly rare opportunity to lead the Lodge, as Master, for a year at a very young age. She, however, wanted me to drop everything and move down to Texas for her. Obviously, being who I am, I told her I couldn’t do that and, if what we had meant anything, she could wait another year. After all, I figured it would be for a lifetime once I got there. What happened next should have been a red flag to me.
She started getting extra friendly with a guy from work. She and her daughter went to the beach with him and his daughter. They ate lunch together and more. It didn’t take long for the bells and whistles to go off for me. I asked her to stop seeing him and she gave me the old line about needing to get out and have friends. Friends, sure, but this guy was after a whole lot more than that and I told her so. She told me that I was just being controlling and jealous. That escalated until, finally, I was given the boot because I just was holding on “too tightly” and being “too controlling and jealous”. Before we were done, I told her exactly what he was after and how he’d get it. I knew because, in college, I’d seen or tried to do the same thing.
Fast forward about six weeks. I’ve become the Master of my Lodge and I’m already swamped with work. Pile on all the changes that were going on at my job, which made me the head network and support “go to” guy and I hardly had time to eat, much less check phone messages or e-mail. One Saturday night, I go over to my parents to eat and do laundry, as I often did. Since I was single and had nothing better to do, I stayed later than I intended and was too tired to check e-mail when I got home. So, I let it go until the morning. I don’t know how many e-mails I had from my ex-wife, but, let’s just say, more than one. And, since this was back in the days when everyone still used modems, when I got done checking e-mail, I had phone messages waiting for me. Again, more than one. More than one tear-soaked, blubbering, snot-bubble-blowing, barely coherent phone message, begging me to take her back. Oh, the litany of how I’d been right and how she’d been wrong was long and flowery and moving. And, like the fool I was, I took her back.
Later, I found out she’d left this “prize” because he’d been with prostitutes, was a self-confessed pedophile and had allegedly forced himself on her sexually. I often wonder if she’d have come back to me if he’d been less messed up. Would it have been such a mistake on her part? Or, would I have been, as I am to her now, Satan incarnate. See, the irony is, not long after she was promising to love me forever and do anything to make the relationship work, she was also telling me that she wasn’t comfortable with seeing me right away, either. She was wrong, she claimed, but she had to put limits and restrictions on our relationship so that it was “safe” for her. Yeah, that was red flag number two.
But, no, I still turned a blind eye to that and we met in San Francisco during the Folsom Street Fair to “make up”. And, so we did. Now, flash forward to this time last year, when that all played out again, the only way it could have. Only this time, if she comes back, I’m calling the police to have her removed from my property.

I try not to think too much about what my life would be like if I’d only held firm back in the Summer of ’97 . But, I do still wonder sometimes. Would I be happier than I am? Would I be better off? Well, maybe I would and maybe not. I’d like to say that I’m older and wiser now, but, mainly, I’m just older and not wise at all. I get like that at this time of year. The new year is approaching and so is my birthday. I find myself looking at where I am and how I got here. It’s never where I thought I’d be and the path is never the one I would have chosen, but I keep plodding on.
What else is there to do?

I don’t normally post twice in one day, but…
But, well, this has been an odd week and I had to cancell my therapist appointment last night, so you’ll have to do, eh? As you regular readers know, I was so sick Monday that I wanted to crawl into a hole and die. Alas, I lived through my brush with whatever that particular plague was and had to finally go into work Wednesday. Wednesday, I also found out that I had a quickly approaching deadline to get my house refinanced before we had to start the entire process again. Thursday seemed fine. Until lunch.
Normally, I take my lunch in the backyard and eat while the dog runs and plays. After lunch, I read under my covered porch and let Hilda get some squirrel/bird chase time in. (Relax, tree-huggers! She’s only come close once that I’ve seen and, besides, she’s just doing what dogs do. It’s her nature and a force of evolution. What’s unnatural is the way she loves to eat off my plate!) So, Thursday, I’m sitting there finishing I Heard You Paint Houses and the dog starts to get all strange. I look up from my book just in time to see this giant, bird-shaped shadow sliding over the lawn as the biggest damn bird I’ve ever seen in person starts to make a landing by my ponds! Without any exageration at all this bird must have had a wingspan as large as my outstreched arms! (That’s over five feet, for those of you who haven’t met my manly physique in person.) Of course, I exclaim loudly, which startles this monstrosity into landing on my garage instead. I could hardly believe I was seeing this thing. I mean, I’ve seen big birds before, but, as a rule, even in Texas one does not expect to see a giant, black turkey vulture swooping into one’s backyard.
Now, what got really unnerving about this is that the thing just sat there looking at me. Not scared, really. At least, not of me. Frankly, the dog looked at me as if to ask, “Uh, Dad, care to fill me in on just what the hell is going on here?”, so I doubt the feathery beast was all that intimidated by the dog, either. Anyway, I decided I didn’t like the way this thing was eyeing the pond, or either of us, and I sort of shouted at it to try and scare it away.
It blinked at me.
So, I waved my arms and shouted.
The damn thing just glided up to perch on my chimney and blink at me. It just sat there, this huge ebony carrion-eater with wings, and blinked at me as if to say,”Yeah, and, your point would be, what, exactly?” Then, being bored with me, it looked down the chimney. So, I start looking for small rocks to throw at this thing to scare it off. The first two shots encouraged it to move to the far side of the chimney and, yes, blink at me. Then, I noticed the second one. Oh, great, a mated damn pair of enormous black harbringers of death in my backyard. Looking for a new home, no doubt. I bend down to find more stones to throw and I hear a loud thump. I check and, sure enough, that one on the chimney is looking down inside. At this point, I’m sure I let loose with a string of expletives that would have made a sailor blush because I’m convinced that the damn thing as dropped a dead animal down the chimney. I start looking for more suitable rocks to throw, but when I find them and go to assault the dirty birds, they’ve gone. Just as quietly as they arrived.
Well, at this point Hilda and I look at each other to confirm that the other has seen what we thought we did. (Yes, I know she’s a dog and has limited communication skills, but it’s the best either of us could do on short notice.) Then I start laughing, put her inside, and head back to the office. Once back to the office, I call a friend of mine who happens to work in the Houston Zoo in the bird department to check on what I’ve just seen. He confirms the guess of turkey vultures, expresses a little surprise at the proximity to “civilization” for that kind of encounter, and then he says “Impressive birds, aren’t they?” Um, yeah, sure, “impressive”. Just the word I would have used. Not freaky. Not menacing. Not down right frightening. Nope, impressive fits the bill just right. And then, the day turned ugly.
That’s about when I got the call from our Bellechasse office that they were having problems with the network. After a minute or two of troubleshooting, I can’t see an issue, so, since I’m dealing with a Windows 2000 server, I figure a reboot is in order. Now, see, this is where that black omen comes in. The reboot ends in a Blue Screen Of Death. Hmm, well, that would be a problem, wouldn’t it? So, we kill the power and try again. No joy. I try Last Known Good Configuration with the same results. I try doing the automated recovery, but again, end up with a BSOD. Mind, at this point it’s 4:55pm so I end up calling to cancel my therapy appointment, much to my chagrin, since I had some things to talk about this week. Finally, after all that, I get into the Recovery Console, run chkdsk and repair the error and get back to the original problem. Yeah, I spent 3 hours dealing with a secondary issue only to come back to the original problem. Again, after waiting for someone to come back to that office after making his appointment, which was for a HAIRCUT, and some more troubleshooting, I finally determine that the hub has gone out. The damn hub had died. No moving parts to fail and no power-spike, but the damn hub had failed. And, finally, I drag my sorry butt home at 8:00pm.
This morning, they get some new switches in place, which is no small feat in Katrina-damaged New Orleans area, and, like Network Geek Magic™, they’re up and running.

Why all the effort not to travel? Because, Monday I have to get a certified file copy of the warranty deed from the Harris County Clerk’s office so I can refinance my house on Wednesday. All so I can save $150 per month. If I stay in Houston past next year. Can anyone, given that turkey vultures landed on my house, the likliness of another hurricane striking Houston, and the not always so great economic outlook for IT guys here in Houston, give all that, can anyone give me three good reasons to stay?
Damn bad-luck black birds.

I’ve been volunteering at H.O.P.E. again.
You know, everytime I go and do that I see so many dogs that need good homes. I don’t think I’ll ever buy a pure-bred dog again. Not that I have anything against that, but there are just so many homeless mutts here in Houston that need a happy home, I couldn’t bring myself to leave one of them behind. Take Lady, for instance. She’s the sweetest thing, once she gets to know you. Two weeks ago when I was there, she was trying to skruntch down into the back corner of her crate, belly up, so that I could pet her. Don’t be put off by the fact that she’s part Pitt Bull, because she’s really a sweet dog. Or, if you want a dog that’s good with cats, try Finder. He’s so happy and full of life that he’ll lift your spirits no matter how you feel.
And don’t think that I’ve forgotten about all the cats, either. There’s never a shortage of cats to be adopted! I haven’t met this cat, but I’ve always been interested in polydactyl cats, because Hemmingway had them. So, Joey, who’s got a couple extra toes, sounded like a cat I’d like to meet. I have met Blueberry and she’s a total lover. And there are so many more. H.O.P.E. also works with North Texas Siamese Rescue, who really covers all of Texas. They have lots of beautiful cats of all ages and descriptions, not just Siamese. In fact, there’s one gorgeous Russian Blue that gets so scared when she’s at the adoption center that I’m afraid she’ll never get adopted.
I wish I could take all the animals home, but no one person can do all that. So, if you’re in the market for a family pet, come on out and take a look at what we’ve got. If you’re not in the Houston area, I’m sure there are local shelters that would love to have you adopt one of their rescues instead.

Advice from your Uncle Jim:
"Everything is funny as long as it is happening to somebody else."

I have a moral dilemma.
Well, actually, I have several. Really, on any given day I may have as many as a dozen moral dilemmas at a time! Lately, what with my personal life in the state it’s in these days, thanks to poor choices on my part, it’s a wonder I don’t have more. As a side note, did you know that once upon a time, the phrase “gone to Texas” was essentially slang for “crazy”? I know why now.
But, I digress, my dilemma is this: My step-daughter is into music, specifically, loud hard-rock. Well, she’s discovered a little band called “Rammstein”. If you’re not familiar with them, they’re a cheery little German band that was a favorite of the skinheads when I was in high school. Lately, though, they’ve been repopularized because they had a song on the Matrix soundtrack. It’s their most well known and popular tune, “Du hast”. Well, the full translation of the song is basically a very sarcastic denial of eternal love and based on a mockery of the traditional German wedding vows. In a nutshell, they’re asking “Will you be faithful until death do you part?” and the response is “Nein”. So, here’s my dilemma, the rest of the songs on that CD, which I have, translate to, well, less happy themes. Now, do I rip them for her and just not tell her what the translation is? Or, do I just stop talking about it alltogether and introduce her to techno which has no lyrics to get us into trouble? I have to admit, it was pretty neat going from unhip to über-cool just by mentioning Rammstein and Du Hast off-hand, only to find them in her cheap iPod clone.
Ah, yes, the dilemmas I face. Perhaps, the lesser of two evils is the most appropriate in this case. That would be the good parental thing to do, right? Of course, she already has the boots to go with the music…. I never realized being cool was frought with such dangers!

Hey, here’s another reason to be proud of my adopted state!
The State of Texas is sueing one of the world’s top four spammers. Apparently, the company, or companies, is based out of California and is already being sued by MicroSoft, but the State of Texas is joining in. The suit itself is based on the CAN-SPAM Act, which was such a big deal when it was passed. I have to admit, at the time, I never thought we’d actually see any of these bottom-feeders prosecuted in any way, but it looks like the CAN-SPAM Act may be actually doing some good! According to the article, the two spammers who run this company could face “penalties of $250 per violation, up to a maximum of $2 million.” Wow. That’d hurt!
Apparently, the Texas Attorney General is bringing suit against these guys under Texas law that “cover electronic mail and solicitation as well as deceptive practices. Those laws carry fines of up to $25,000 per day and $20,000 per violation…” Dang! You go get ’em!
Let’s hope it does some good!

Well, this is a little too timely…
But, it could come in handy, so, for all you out of work computer geeks out there, here is the Survival Guide to Homelessness. It’s a blog done to promote a book that is all about surviving on the street. Though, the blog gives plenty of good advice. In fact, it brought home for me just how important getting my tire fixed really was! I had no idea how important a car could be if you’re homeless.

Okay, okay, I’m probably not ever going to be actually homeless, but it is something I’ve had nightmares about since moving down to Texas from Chicago. I mean, I didn’t really know anyone when I moved to Houston, so I was almost all on my own. I left all my family behind and almost all my friends, too. It was scary as Hell. Well, the worst has happened, or is happening, and I’m still making it by, with a little help from my friends. Some new, some old, but all friends that I’ve come to rely on. Thanks youse guys!

Advice from your Uncle Jim:
"We tend to forget that happiness doesn't come as a result of getting something we have, but rather of recognizing and appreciating what we do have."
   --Frederick Keonig

I have no idea what this is.

They tell me I should put this in my blog:
This is my new blogchalk:
United States, Texas, Jersey Village (suburb of Houston), English, , Jim, Male, 36-40, writing speculative fiction, Novell Netware and Linux. 🙂

I’m assuming this is like warchalking, but softer and gentler. And, for blogs.
No seriously, I know this is about driving the right kind of blog reader to my blog. Maybe it’ll mean I have more than three readers soon! If you click on my BlogChalk over on the right-hand side of my blog’s front page, you can get your own.

Baking bread as a medition on life.

Okay, stay with me here. This may seem like a stretch to some of you, but I found myself learning about life from baking sour dough bread yesterday. I’ve been working at learning about sour dough bread for several months now. I started out being interested in it for writing purposes. I wanted to understand the simplest, most basic and “primative” method for baking bread. I figured that was sour dough, because it doesn’t take any special yeast.
Well, I’m also a game geek and a really good game site also had information on sour dough, both making the starter and baking the bread. So, back before the holidays, I started baking bread. The first couple loaves were so heavy they were almost a brick. But, with each attempt, I got a little better. Still, I had problems getting a good loaf that wasn’t so heavy that it was hard to chew.
So, I stopped working at it for a bit. I kept my starter in the fridge and fed it, as it seemed to require it. Then, I noticed that it didn’t seem very active any more. Well, I had finally killed it.
I cleaned out the jar and let it be for a bit. Then, about a week ago, I decided to work on a new starter. This starter was so active that it overflowed the jar at least three times! Apparently, Springtime is the perfect time for starting sour dough in Texas!! Anyway, I fed it and let it get going real well. Then, Friday night, I did what’s called “proofing the sponge”, which is just getting ready to make dough.
Saturday, I took the sponge and, as I had before, followed the recipe from the site I listed above. Only this time, I waited longer for everything I did. And, I didn’t try to force a full three cups of flower into the batch. Instead, I only mixed in flour until it felt “right”, whatver that really means. I let it rise longer. I kneeded it down and let it rise some more. Then, I made it into a loaf and let it rise yet again. Finally, I let it start to bake, though I didn’t have high hopes. It seemed just as heavy as it had every other time. Still, I just let go and baked it per the recipe.
I can’t describe my surprise when I pulled it out. It was a wonderful loaf of dark, but “fluffy” bread! I had done it! It was a totally yummy batch of bread. And the secret was patience and letting go of the result.

So, as I feel myself tense up at work, getting caught up in all the fear of a tenuous position as rumors fly, I’ll remember the bread. And, hopefully, I’ll remember patience and letting go of the result. If I can just go with what’s happening and trust in the process, I may just survive with my sanity intact.

I built a server yesterday.

Well, in a way I did. I really imaged a server, from a Ghost disk image. But, it was a Windows 2000 server, so at least I can use it on my resume. And, it beats working with nothing but the Novell servers that my company is phasing out. Of course, they’re phasing them out very, very slowly, but still, they are going to eventually go away.
Really, that’s my only complaint about this job. Everything moves slowly. Absolutely everything. So, I’m still waiting to go full-time and get benefits. And, since I have about two months left on COBRA, and even after they hire me I have to wait 90 days for benefits to start, I’ll have to get some kind of health insurance. Right now, I’m looking at Blue Cross Blue Shield of Texas, but I may find some other options, too. Man, I hate dealing with all that mundane garbage.

Anyway, at least I’m working. And, two jobs, too!

Well, it seems the “sure thing” contract I thought I had lined up is far from it. I’ve been chasing after a contract upgrading a local school district for almost four months now. A little over a week ago, I was told that schools “in the area” were getting their money. Apparently, the person I was talking to thought that New Mexico and Houston, Texas are in the same area, because the government money was flowing there, not here. Behold, the joys of nation-wide recruiting firms!

So, in the meantime, I had told a different recruiting firm that I wouldn’t shave my beautiful beard off for a contract-to-perm position that paid roughly $13K less than my last job. Guess what I did yesterday morning? Yeah, that’s right, I called back telling them I’d changed my mind and if the nice, beard-shaving people with money were still interested, I’d talk to them. Frankly, I think it’s too late, which is a shame because the position might have beefed up my Windows 2000 experience. Not to mention my Exchange exposure. And, I would have still been using Novell, too. Sure, they’re phasing that out in favor of Windows, but there’s a lot more work in the Microsoft arena these days anyway. Shoot, there might even have been the possibility of getting my MCSE! But, despite swallowing what little pride I had left and just about begging for an interview, I don’t think that one’s going to work out.

Hey, buddy, can you spare a dime? Or a job? I’d settle for a job.