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20131228

Christmas, part 2

Okay, now that I've extricated my foot from the claws of a cunningly purring cat...

Things are good.  We are lucky to be healthy and have food and clothing and a roof over our heads and each other and the people and critters we love.

I got to keep the bunny an extra day.  That was nice.  Although right now, he's being a bun on a log, just sitting in his cage, he does occasionally come out and hop around my feet to let me know he's ready to play for a few minutes.  The guinea pig is being relatively quiet.

I had toast and marmalade and tea for breakfast.  Can't beat that.  Then for lunch I had a toad in the hole with more tea and I crumbled a little bit of bleu cheese on top of the egg.  Can't beat that, either.

Life is good.

Christmas

So... it's a funny thing.  When I was a kid, I knew Christmas as a time when parents seemed stressed and us kids got really cool new things to play with.  It was all about gimme gimme gimme to me.

The past several years I've begun to notice that I feel less and less excited about filling up the house full of stuff I don't have a lot of time to appreciate, and more fulfilled by finding ways to give thoughtful, useful, and/or practical gifts.  By thoughtful, note that this can indicate practical jokes... they do require thought and are intended to amuse, not piss off.  At least me.  LOL.  I also very much appreciate the family I ended up absorbing through knowing Dale, and all the time I manage to spend with friends.  Everyone is so busy... it's hard to take anyone for granted when time permits get togethers!!

Some highlights of Christmas this year:
- Mum wrote us a rather lengthy email.  It's unusual for her to write a long email so it was extra special, and her thoughts were equally special (if not more so).
- Spending time with Dale.  I know this is special when I'm focused on it... when I'm not, I sometimes forget just how lucky I am to have him in my life.
- Spending time with family.  I don't get to see everyone nearly often enough.  I don't realize this until I'm actually spending time with them, but when I do, I know just how lucky I am to have married into such awesome people.
- Spending time with the critters.  In the daily rushes of things, I often push myself to give them SOME attention, or whatever they insist I give them.  This year, however, I ended up bunny sitting for a friend and this caused me to spend a bit more time with the guinea pig, too.  I sat on the floor with both of them, and the cats that felt like joining us, for quite some time several times in the last week and had forgotten what it looks like from down there.  Right now, I'm very aware of Gizmo sleeping on my foot... a nice, warm, vibrating black body - OW WITH CLAWS

20131112

Puerh part 2

I found a solution to the problem of poking and stabbing myself whilst picking puerh from a tea brick.

It's called the Annihilator.

~w

20131109

drinks

It has always fascinated me that people in general firmly believe that alcohol takes x amount of time to get INTO one's system and that it takes x amount of time to get OUT of one's system.

I have never believed this for a couple of reasons.

First, I know from my mom's teachings that cheese has some sort of enzymes that inhibit something in alcohol so you don't feel drunk as fast with the same amount of alcohol as you'd have without the cheese.  I've tested this theory, it /seems/ to be true... but there are so many variables that I'll move on just in case I'm wrong.

Second, I feel effects of alcohol simply by inhaling the vapor of it.  It's a very minor, quick sensation, but I don't get the same effect from inhaling, say, water vapor, so it's not the hyperventilation you might be thinking of.  Obviously the scent of something can change one's mood, though:  I recently got into essential oils and there's a whole boatload of people who believe smelling diffused oils can alter mood.  I know it's certainly easier to feel good when it smells nice in here.  But there's /something/ to it... scent plays a huge part of our lives, it has for millennia, much like other animals.

Third, I feel MORE of the effects of alcohol by swirling it around in my mouth.  I used to tell people this years back and I was often met with, "Impossible.  You have to digest it for it to start making you feel fuzzy."  I found out years later that the mucous membranes are actually quite the absorbers.  That being said, my theory should hold water.  Ha, ha.

Anywho, as far as how long it takes to get through the system... jury's still out on that one.  WAY too many variables.

Gotta drink tea now.  :)

~w

--

-Whitney
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Contentsofsignaturemaysettleduringshipping. -- Mike Beattie

20131105

Puerh: 1. Me: 0.

Finally decided to open my first brick of puerh.  This is a Haiwan Shu Puer brick from Phoenix Tea.  I stabbed myself with the knife twice but thankfully didn't draw any blood or inject staph or tetanus into myself.  I think.  I figured maybe I wasn't doing this right so I looked at a video where they make it look very easy.  Oh, I can do it, I thought.

In the end, the video lady ended up with a very neat piece of tea to place in her cup and her tea brick still looked beautiful.  I have a brick that looks like it's been unceremoniously chipped at with a rock and a little pile of tea powder suitable for fine-meshed tea bags.  It better taste good or ... or ... I'll do what?  Run from the evil brick??

I hate puerh.

Somehow I think a tea needle wouldn't help me much here.  If anything I could end up looking something like this (stolen off the internet at some point).


20131021

don't make 'em like they used to

I got a new lamp to replace an old one I've had since... well, since I was significantly younger.  The first thing I noticed is that it's new and shiny and not much different than the original.  The base is a bit less childlike, crisper, and I like the switch with the definitive switching sound rather than the rotational clicks the other one had.  Much more... me.

The second thing I noticed is that it's shorter.  No big deal.

Then I go to bend the neck and my hand slides all over the place.  The black "cable wrap" they put on there is not only brittle and, well, cable-wrap-like, but it's not secured.  To anything.  They pretty much wrap cable wrap around the metal neck (which I can easily see if I pull down on the wrap) and then seal the seam together, likely with heat or something, so I can't simply yank the mess off.

The light is perfectly functional, but the wrap must come off if gorilla glue or somesuch can't hold that sucker in place.  This inattention to detail about something rather important (you seriously can't move it suddenly without having things slide around) is very sad.

The other one is held by the fact the plastic wrap stuff is a) higher quality I think and b) sunk into the plastic on either end.

Anywho, we'll work with it.  It's a nice cheap lamp at any rate.  :)

~w

20131019

O...M...G... I love tea.

I have been making irish breakfast, earl grey, and english breakfast tea to take to work with me... in bulk, you know, have it in a thermos and such.  As such I sort of took it for granted.

Rose Puerh.  Dark.  One cup at a time, freshly made.  Wow.  I'd forgotten what really good tea was like.

I get to have pancakes soon, too.  W00T!!  :: happiness ::

20131002

morning.

It just occurred to me that a person's idea of fun in the wee hours of the morning may not be the same as mine.

I was just sitting here, logged into my work computer, watching one of the servers open connections, close them, fire off processes, write to disk... I got in here because its memory was a bit high and I was alerted, and ended up rebooting given I couldn't find a problem other than high memory utilization, but then when it came back I sat here watching it do its thing.  Not because I thought it needed watching, mind, but because it was drawing me in like a moth to a flame.  There's a reason I shy away from resource monitors.  They are the types of things that my inner geek is natively drawn to.  This means that once hooked, it is difficult to keep track of time.

The part that alarmed me was when I realized I was smiling at it thinking, "That's SO cool.  I can see you talking to your superior.  Oh!  And I can see me.  Hi, me!"

It's not good for people to have this power.  It's disturbing.  In other news, I think I want tea and eggs for breakfast.

~w

20130831

lunch! (or breakfast)

fried egg with fresh dill
fried garlic and onion (til slightly crunchy, nom nom nom)
bed of mixed greens
nasturtiums
cubes of bleu cheese
avocado
a bit of leftover turkey-rice-corn-yellowstringbeans from dinner a couple nights ago

english breakfast tea

Yum!!

Momma taught me right, but, still...

...I can be overly cautious.  Not that it's a bad thing, mind you, but when I have two very beautiful jars of kombucha in the fridge that are about a month old now and am afraid to even open them because they've been in there a whole MONTH, THAT is overkill.

I finally talked myself into opening them, mainly because we plan to make some refrigerator pickles today and I needed some empty mason jars to sterilize for the process.  So I open one.  Little bubbles from the slowed fermentation of course rise to the surface, and a mini explosion occurs.  I'm used to that in my new kombucha, so okay.  I sniff.  Smells a heck of a lot like Kombucha.  I put the lid back on and shake gently.  This time a bigger explosion on opening - the bubbles being more inclined to unstick themselves from the liquid, they wanted out.  Another whiff.  Yep, that's kombucha, all right.  SO I dump it in a glass and my mouth starts watering.  Bubbles froth to the top.  Looks like Kombucha, smells like Kombucha, acts like Kombucha.

Now I'm at the crossroads.  Recently we were warned about pickling being a botulism problem.  I had never heard of that, but I know botulism is easily obtainable with the right conditions.  The specifics had been told to me long ago by Mum, but suffice it to say, the b-word now floated to the surface of my mind given the lack of specific memory to how botulism comes about.

At this point the stuff has not been put into my body.  Maybe I shouldn't drink it.  But it looks so good, and it's one of two Kombucha jars I have left anyway.  The new batch will take a week to finish!!  It's been in the FRIDGE for Pete's sake, it's highly acidic, surely that combination, assuming I sterilized everything, will retard growth of other stuff.  Right?  For the most part, at least.  In one month, I would hope so.  I'm sure I've done worse.

I take a sip.  Tastes like Kombucha.  By now, it is possible that millions of tiny little bacteria have infested my stomach.  But by now, I have stopped listening to Mum's warnings in my head.  I take another sip.  I breathe the vapours back through my nose.  Yup, that's Kombu-- wait.  What was that?  I put the glass down, still recycling the vapours through the back of my nose and throat.  What IS that?  Did it SPOIL?  It doesn't taste quite like spoilage.  It almost tastes like... Irish Breakfast Tea.

Now I'm perplexed.  I've been using Lipton bagged tea.  I take a tiny sip and there it is again in the back of my nose.  Irish Breakfast Tea.  I was just about to dump it when it hit me:  A month ago, I was using Irish Breakfast Tea.  I had run out of Lipton and added Irish to the brew in its stead.

I hover.  Am I sure?  Am I 100% sure?  I sniff.  No sign of the tea there.  I sip, another tiny sip.  By now I've already got it in me, whatever it is.  Why not make it worse?  lol.  There it is!  Irish Breakfast Tea.  Very noticeable now.  It doesn't taste bad, just... odd.

I have since read up on botulism and found out that acidic items (like vinegar or Kombucha, which makes acid like vinegar), salty ones (like brine for pickling), and refrigerated items (like my Kombucha and future pickles) are amongst the least risky fermented foods you can have when it comes to Botulism.

I was drinking the Kombucha while researching that.  There were the specifics.  All the while I had been, in the back of my mind, keeping tabs on how I felt.  The mildly drunken-like rush had hit me a while ago and cleared, but I'm used to that.  It happens almost every time I drink my first half a glass of Kombucha.  After that it fades out.  It faded as usual.  But I was waiting for my stomach to go on strike.  I was waiting for sweating.  Nausea, dry mouth, paralysis...?  Foggy mind?  Falling off my chair without any laughter?  Nothing happened.

This time, as my mother would say.

Incidentally, cold Kombucha is really, really good.  And it just occurred to me that if botulism is going to occur, it would be while Kombucha is brewing.  The stuff itself requires warmth, it's moist, and for a while, it's not nearly as acidic as the finished product.  Hm.  Maybe I should look into this a little bit more...

~paranoid but okay with that

Tea snobbery and rambles

Dale brought in the mail yesterday left a tea catalogue on my desk with a note:
"You might be a tea snob when you get tea news."

I have informed him that it's a catalogue as well as a newsletter, thankyouverymuch.

Admittedly, though, it might scare me a tad bit that as I was reading through the 35th page (out of 50 maybe) that I was increasingly aware of how "simple" the catalogue's verbiage was to me and how it likely isn't to the uninitiated.

I cannot believe how many things the human brain can remember in its lifetime, nor how many subjects one can delve into with gusto without even realizing it.  I also know way more about cars than I ever thought I would prior to becoming interested.

And let's not forget D&D, which is no longer a foreign term.  Or servers, or networking, or any number of things.

Where does all this stuff go?  How does it stick?  And then I go around complaining because I can't remember things on the fly as often as I used to and sometimes I forget words.  I think I need to accept that my brain is going to age like everyone else's and I should be glad I had one to age in the first place!!  It truly is a remarkable computer in there.  I remember that for 20 years of my life I wandered around with 20 or more thoughts coursing through my brain simultaneously.  It drove me crazy when it got really speedy in there... it felt like a multitude of Europe Express tracks whizzing around delivering lightweight cases of trinkets and treasures.  I have always had issues forming spoken words - the mouth is so slow compared to the fingers - but at the time it was worse.  Now I talk "slow" (for me) because I can't come up with the words, but it used to be because the words I came up with reflected several thoughts:
"I'm happy today"
"Look at the pretty sunset"
"I think I'll read that book later"
"What if I added a nested loop to that program"
"I could use some chocolate milk"
"This computer is too slow"
"What if I'm in a parallel universe"

could all turn into an abbreviated sentence:

"I'm happy sunset think book later added milk slow universe-- uh..."  :: blink blink ::  "I have to go."

This morning I heard Dale talking in his sleep.  He does this a lot but I usually don't catch what he's saying.  As it happened, I was watching him sleep because I woke up an hour earlier than I should have.  Must be the cup of tea I had last night, who knows - yeah, it wakes me up the next day, it doesn't KEEP me up.  So I propped myself up on my elbow, noting that the water pillow did indeed leak a little (been wondering if it was or why it wasn't) and stared creepily at him, smiling maniacally - "Whee, I can't believe I still see him when I wake up in the morning.  Is he still real?  Really real?"  Yeah, the expressions on my face must be creepy indeed.  So I'm staring at him and he starts tossing and turning a bit.  Then he smiles a bit and says, "Look at - she's wearing a hat."  Or something.  I cocked my head and hoped to hear more, but he fell silent and began to snore lightly, having concluded the little peep session into his dreamworld.  In the past I've heard him discussing technical specifications and rocket launching.  I think somniloquy is fascinating.

I don't remember what I'd dreamt but I know people I knew were in my head because I recall feeling like I was watching familiar beings and that they were OK with my presence.  I have vague memories of fields and grass and... oh.  That reminds me that I should check in with an old friend again and see how he's doing...

AND I should also contact a couple other friends of mine.  One recently moved, or was going to.  Maybe she's still in the process and could use help later today.  The other I haven't had breakfast with in several long days.  Aight, off to do the day's bidding.  I think some tea is in order, first, though.

OH YEAH and Dale and I are going to do some pickling today!!  Not actual canning, mind, but just like a 24 hour pickling fiesta.  Yum!  That should bring down the number of cukes on the counter... (of course now they'll be in the fridge)

W00T!

~w
ps NOW I'm off to do life.

20130812

The Blob

I recently read that after bottling kombucha, it still has active yeasties and bacteriumumumumums in it.  These can multiply, continuing to ferment the drink and feed off any leftover sugars and foodstuffs.  Depending on how long the drink is left lying around, especially on countertops rather than in the fridge (which slows down the reproduction rate of the yeasts and bacterium), these new little colonies can create what kombucha makers refer to as "blobs."  They are jelly-fish-like blobs of goo, pretty much.  They are said to be a surprise to many drinkers, but that they are safe to consume.

I was rather hoping I'd stumble across one of these and so tonight, I inspected one of my bottles before consumption, hoping to see one such jelly fish blob floating around in my kombucha.  I saw nothing.

Disheartened, I drank some.  I drank some more.  I kept drinking.  All of a sudden, SURPRISE!!  Uh... slimy, weird, blobby, chewy thing.  What the... Oh wait, is this the infamous blob??  It is indeed.  Larger than expected, and very difficult to see... it was floating sideways by the time I located the half-spit-out blob in the kombucha.

My drink made a blob.

I tried to eat it but ... just couldn't, somehow.  I held it up for Dale, comparing it rather scientifically to booger snot as it hung down from my fingertips, swaying slimily as it oozed downward yet somehow held together, dripping kombucha off of itself.  Dale agreed with the booger snot comment, making a rather contorted face as if one of disgust, and said he wouldn't drink it, either.  Well, of course he wouldn't, he doesn't like kombucha.  Zheezh.  ;)

Anywho, I've got a Blob.  I suppose I can't put it in a jar of kombucha now because I spit on it and human spit contains more icky bacteria than a kombucha colony has good.  I guess I'll compost it instead.  The plants might like it.  :)

~w

20130810

Something's not right

...when you have work and personal life's calendars, cameras, email, documents, phones, tasklists, notes, diversions, tools, e-books, videos and photographs on a single device that you can pocket... and then you plug a pair of good speakers into it as if it's a hi fi system.  And it sounds good.

The world is finally starting to really scare me.

20130808

Fry bread, me style

I've probably mentioned fry bread before, but this one is so easy and chewy and yummy that I'll post it here.  I made it up on the fly last night when I was in the mood for salad and... something heavier and tastier than white bread.

Heat an oiled fry pan over medium heat while mixing the following.  Note:  I don't take long to mix this, maybe 5 minutes... and I use olive oil.  I haven't seen it smoke, but as with all oils, keep an eye on your pan for the beginnings of smoke.  No kitchen fires, okay?

Add the following to a bowl and mix thoroughly.
1/2 cup flour
2 tablespoons or so of dried thyme
1 teaspoon of curry powder
1 teaspoon or so of ground coriander
1/2 teaspoon of ground cumin if desired
1/8 teaspoon of salt
1/8 teaspoon of freshly ground pepper
a dash of asafoetida

Once thoroughly mixed, add about a quarter cup water, enough to get everything mixed together in a pliable glutinous blob.  "knead" it in your hands a few times until it's pretty warm and happy and then sprinkle with flour in order to press flat.  Press into the hot fry pan and keep pressing as flat as you can while it's still cool and pliable enough.  Let it fry at medium heat for about five minutes, then flip with a spatula and shut off the heat.  Let it sit there until you're ready to eat it (but within thirty minutes or so... it's best when still hot/warm).

Chewy and tasty, but it will get hard once it cools off a while.  Then you can make hard tack out of it.  Har har har.  d.

20130731

this is effed up

I'm taking a course for work.  Two colleagues took it before me and told me it's one of those things that you cannot "memorize."  It requires actual knowledge to pass the test in the end.  They both stated - and one of them is someone I consider a genius from a remembering everything sense - that the course is ... well, that it requires a good deal of study.  In other words, it's not easy.  This of course, in my mind at least, meant that if I take it I will pass the test and I will know it inside and out.  I like academic challenges like this one.  Perhaps it is my competitive nature, I don't know.  It's also been a damned long while since my brain was knowingly and actively challenged with a real curriculum of sorts.

The first half of the first mod of the first section (there are six sections) seemed super easy.  I skipped ahead and took the quiz out of boredom and then failed.  Whups.  So I went back through and found out it picks up a bit about half-way through.  I mentioned this to the super-memory colleague and he smiles.  "Wait until you get 20 hours into it."  Ut oh.  That was just the first four hours.  Fuck.  Balancing this with work is going to be tricky at best, right?

But the next couple of mods didn't seem that  bad.  In fact, I had a renewed sense of purpose and need.  My brain was starting to like this exercise.  Then I got to the one I just finished.  Let's just say that while the concepts were exciting and I was eager to do some really fun things, I realized I had forgotten some basics.  Namely, hex to decimal to binary etc conversions.  Whups.

So I spent over an hour tonight re-learning how to convert hex to decimal to binary to decimal to hex so I can decipher packets.  I was so focused on that I was only half-listening and skimming the rest of the lesson, which is all about how to do what I really wanted to do.  Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew that I'd get back to that and find a reference and pick it up as I began doing the work.  It would come.  This was unconscious at the time but I know I do this and looking back on it, that's exactly what I was thinking somewhere in my head.

Yet somehow, despite my inattention to these things, I picked up something and it was enough to pass a quiz.  It's effed up.  I don't understand how my brain went from knowing it knows stuff to thinking crap I'm gonna die no wait, I know that... how do I know that... how how HOWWWWWW do I know that... Maybe I've developed more of an audio memory than I'd thought?  Maybe I need to move faster??  GAHHHH I don't know but I'm staying home in the morning to do more of this and try to get through the first section.  If the next section is even harder and I fall further behind, I won't be seeing the light of day (or path of exile or Dale or tea or food or cats or life) for a long time.

And get this... I screwed up the first and last questions on my latest quiz but knew the answers.  Those were the only two I got WRONG.  The rest of it I sat there giving correct answers and having no idea how on earth I know them.  Many of them I was answering before I saw the choices.  This was beyond the simple "I'll guess based on the multiple choice answers I see" routine I used to be so damned good at.  (Aren't most people good at those?  I reckon so.  It sure does help people pass tests.)

They asked one question twice in a different way but I got both right.  Something about asking what a number in a header was for a UDP, the last one I think.  I'm like, "The payload."  Found the right choice, correct.  Later they're like, "What does the last field in a UDP header mean?"  I'm like, "The number of bytes in the payload.  Zheezh, I just told you that."  Found the choice, correct.  Suddenly I realized I don't remember actually learning that.

This concerns me.  I wonder how much of this is memorization (of which I used to have a more visual version of - how I am remembering this sh** is beyond me) and how much is real, solid understanding.  What the hell is a UDP payload, anyway?  I have some very vague recollection of what it is but I'll be damned if I can put it into words that mean anything coherent.  The best I can say is that if someone references this, I'll recognize it now.  But explaining it?  Ha.

Sometimes I can't help but sit back and smile maniacally.  I've always considered myself someone who can figure it out as she goes along, but, this is ridiculous.  Is there any limit to what a human can accomplish other than a self-imposed one?  Is there?  Just yesterday I was explaining to someone that I feel stupid a lot of the time.  When questioned about why I realized it's not so much that I feel stupid, it's more about feeling inadequate because of my own inner voices telling me that I should be able to answer any and all questions instantly and know everything all the time without any effort.  Isn't this rather impossible for any human?  Without this expectation of myself, I'd surely be far less stressed.  However, how far would I have come without this burning need to attain perfection in knowledge?  Whenever I hand something over to someone else to figure out or to do for me, I feel a huge section of my psyche slip into a depressive abyss as if I'm the biggest failure on earth.  Why am I a failure for delegating things I honestly and truly do not have a need to know everything about?

This brings me back to one of the systems I support - and am, in fact, the primary support for.  Again I smile and laugh maniacally.  I was sitting there with this super cool smart guy.  I saw him start writing SQL queries and asked him about it.  He seemed surprised that I didn't know SQL given that I was maintaining the system I had been maintaining for 2 or 3 years at that point.  I explained my background and how I ended up with this set of servers to support.  His eyebrows went up and he looked a bit surprised.  Apparently the amount of time between my doing tech work and running a set of servers seemed a bit short.  So he showed me some basics and got me going.  Now I love SQL.  Admittedly, I don't know as much as I'd like, but it's really not that hard.  I've often thought that having more time to just sit and mess with it would be ideal.  But, I don't have that kind of time, so I don't.  Much to my dismay.

This class is like that.  It requires some real effort to gain its full value.  But I like it just the same... now it's time for pizza and some photo stuff...

~w

--

-Whitney
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Contentsofsignaturemaysettleduringshipping. -- Mike Beattie

20130723

Thoughts on love, number 3.14~

Sometimes love is hardest when you yourself know you're miserable for whatever reason and you try your damnedest not to inflict yourself on the one you love - and ultimately fail.

I think that's the most self-condemning, helpless feeling of all.

Thankfully, there are apologies.  However, they seem so frail compared to the weight of misdirected anger.

~w

tea time

I walked outside with cup in hand
And watched my guy prepare to leave
As he drove away in rain
I waved back and drank my tea

Nothing quite like a cup of tea on the porch in the morning whilst watching the rain fall on an otherwise already beautiful scene.  I used to find beauty where I lived as a child, but it is a far cry from where I live now.  Many strive for views of lakes or mountain ranges, and yes, they are beautiful... but I like the depth of facing a quiet, dead end street.  The fog isn't as dramatic as a valley view come springtime, and the sunsets are cloaked in reflected light.  Sunrises exist on the other side of the house, once they dare to peek over the trees.  But the fog amplifies the depth by making the reds and greens richer.  The sunset lights bounce around in the atmosphere and set the road a-glow.  And the sunrises, when it's not raining, have directed one's attention to various objects.  Once it alighted on a single deer, as if the deer had taken a spotlight.

There is nothing that can compare to the scene before me.

Now for my tea.

20130712

music, omg.

So last night we took a trip to make a purchase from Craig's list.  I'm always dubious about such deals because usually anything we might really want at a "steal" is really too good to be true and totally scary to even bother with.  However, Dale made a deal.

Not only was the deal solid, but the guy was very nice and he even threw a couple of extras in.  One of these extras was a set of computer speakers.  Dale looked at me and stated the obvious.  "You've been looking for some computer speakers," he says.  I felt my eyes light up.  Cool, I thought, he will part with those!

The set up has not gone without issue.  I've got a couple cell repeaters at my desk, being near the best cell-signal window in the house.  The speakers are very sensitive to the interference at my desk.  Two guesses as to what that interference might be.  So right now I'm sitting on the floor to the right of my desk in this little alcove I'd inadvertently built for myself when I moved the guinea pig under my other desk.I've got a subwoofer way off to the left, the right speaker facing toward my desk, and the left speaker facing the desk to my right.  The sound is amazing.

I have forgotten what my music sounds like.  You know, the staples:  Peter Cetera, Chicago.  The old stuff that is so ingrained in me that hearing it like this shakes my entire soul.  And it's mine.  All mine!  So, I'm playing my favourites first.. You're The Inspiration, of course... Scheherazade, no brainer... Practical Man, Remember The Feeling, Wanna Be There, Happy Man, Alive Again, Once In A  Lifetime, 25 or 6 to 4, Big Mistake, World Falling Down.  Next on my list are the Richard Marx staples:  Hazard, Take This Heart, Nothin' You Can Do About It, One Thing Left, Right Here Waiting, Should've Known Better... this "next on my list" is gonna get long today.

This warranted some Da Hong Pao so now I've got some of that in front of me.  It's gonna be very hard to shut this stuff off so I can study.

/sigh

I had no idea how much I really missed music.  It's not the same in a vehicle, and it's sure as hell not the same coming out of tinny little built-in laptop speakers.  Sorry, Apple, but even you can't manage it!

~w

20130706

Things I've done that are cool

I was just sitting here after a good lunch and my mind wandered off to a special part of my past. His name was Lancelot. He was a striking lad with beautiful brown eyes that could watch two different things at the same time. He would often gaze at me as I worked on a computer. He also loved to look out the window at bugs flying by. He'd sit in the sunshine there and occasionally tilt his head to regard me with that quiet demeanor of his.

He was enchanting. And fast. When he was so inclined, of course. His food did not stand a chance - he loved his food, I remember that.

Over the years since he died I've come to think of him less and less. When his image does fill my mind, however, it is just as vivid as it was when he was right there in front of me. I can still see the tilt of his head, the way his eyes would look through mine and into my soul. I can feel his skin on mine. I remember how bright he was when he was happy, and how dull he'd get when something wasn't right. I remember the time he ate that spider off the curtain and grinned broadly at me, a twinkle in his eye, licking his chops.

I remember when he hid in the curtains for a week, and wouldn't take any water. I remember how he also hid in my stack of papers, and behind my stereo, and how I bred crickets just for him. I felt some affinity towards an albino cricket and took it aside. I named it Jiminy. Jiminy lived in the bathroom for three months. I set food and water out for him. Lancelot did not approve of that, methinks, but he never said anything about it. He only gazed at me, as if he was just as entranced by me as I was with him.

How many people can say that they befriended a 5-inch-long green anole and let him roam all over the downstairs of their apartment, eating bugs and clinging to curtains and circuit boards?

That, I say, is something I've done that is freakin' cool.

~w

20130524

WHEEEE!!!

An ipad painting I did the other day using an app called Doodle Buddy.  In other news, WHEEEE!!!  :)  I love mornings where I feel awesome and then realize I'm listening to a sad song and feel uplifted by it.  This one is Richard Marx's "Hazard" and I just heard the part where he sings, "I think about my life gone by and how it's done me wrong.  There's no escape for me this time, all of my rescues are gone."  And here I am thinking, "WHEEEEE!!!  MORNINNGGGGGG!!!"  lol

20130523

inheritance - parodies

I have inherited some cool things from my mom. Parodies, and an appreciation of them, are one of those things.

This morning I'm wandering around and realized that I had "My Way" stuck in my head. So I began singing it and it came out thusly:

And now, the tea is near, and so I'll drink another cupful. My friend, I'll drink it here, I'm on the porch, the ground outside is only hopeful. I'll drink a cup that's full, I'll drink on each and every highway… but more, much more than this, I'll drink it my way.

Thus starts the morning tea ritual. I sing new parodies every day and Dale used to sit there going, "How do you DO that?" but he's used to it now.

Earlier this morning he threw his socks down the stairs as usual and each time he does this I try to come up with a new and creative way to kick them on "his" side and out of "my" side of the landing. I had nothing this morning. Then as I got to them, ready to simply toss them over, inspiration struck. I turned into a robot and robotically picked them up, dropped them on my side, robotically scratched my head, picked them back up, made my way, slowly, onto the landing, then dropped them over the edge on his side. I made a robotic nod and then robotically walked to my chair and sat down.

~nv

20130514

POEM: The View From My Window v2

In high school (or was it junior high?), I wrote the following as an English assignment asking us to write about the view from our window.  I only remember parts of it, so some of it is missing, but you get the gist of its meaning, perhaps.

THE VIEW FROM MY WINDOW
I look out my window
And what do I see?
Papers and trash
Blowing 'round a tree.

Sometimes I wonder
If there'll ever be
A peaceful day
In this city.

[more?]

So I looked out my window
And what did I see?
Papers and trash
Blowing 'round a tree.

-- Today I was sitting here with my tea and the poem returned to my mind unbidden, as I sat there admiring the view from my window.  I have since moved on from my teenage years and found far more peace than I ever dreamed possible.  So I decided to jot down this morning's thoughts:

THE VIEW FROM MY WINDOW, version 2
I look out my window
And what do I see?
A barn, trees and grass
O'er a nice cuppa tea.

Sometimes I still wonder
If there'll ever be
Just one peaceful day
In my old city.

There's crime and there's violence
At the schools, 'neath the trees
Our children are dying
But... some are finding their dreams.

So I looked out my window
O'er a nice cuppa tea
A barn, trees and grass
And a sad memory.

20130511

Cards

I just had a thought.

As I finished drawing and writing in cards for my mother-in-law recently (mother's day and birthday), I sat back and looked at my artwork happily.  Then I heard my mother's voice.  "You always put too much in cards and make them look messy," she said.

For the first time in my life, however, I didn't feel bad about it.  Instead, I said somewhat defiantly, "Mary will like it."  Then I felt happy again.

~nv

20130429

gahhh!! more tea!!!! (okay, fine!)

I've been trying (with success, mind you!) to finish up 10 teas this month. My ultimate goal is to whittle down my teas to 12 on the shelf with 4 Twinings staples stacked nearby. I.e., 16 total. I finally hit 30 teas a few days ago. I just barely set a new goal to drink up six more teas in May.

THEN… Dale gets home and hands me this bag from our Chinese friend. "Any cookies?" he enquires as I peer in. "I don't think so," I tell him ruefully, all the while knowing that my eye has alighted upon the actual contents: TEA!!! Now, this friend is known for sending Dale home with tea that has Chinese writing all over it. This time, however, there are some Chinese classics that are all labelled (yay!) and one labeled as "Taiwan." I opened the Taiwanese canister and found that it had a vacuum-packed pouch in it. Okay, I think, it's from Taiwan, and it's definitely air-deprived. Must be green or a green oolong.

I haven't opened the pouch yet, because I've got so much older tea to drink, and opening the pouch would mean accelerated aging of what is probably an awesome tea. It'll be hard, but I plan to hold onto it until I finish the sixth tea. Then I'm going to drink it up until it's gone, so it doesn't get stale and I can appreciate it fully. I'm mostly curious to know if I'll recognise it… is it an Ali Shan? Li Shan? Jin Xuan? Some green tea? I won't know for a while… :: eager eager ::

So much for 30 teas in the house. :: cackle ::

~me… the tea fiend...

20130426

Piano tuning

So, it's been about two years since I had Maelstrom tuned.  I know he needs tuning because generally speaking, pianos need to be tuned every 6 months.  But I can't figure out how bad it is.  I only know that for the past year or so, I've been increasingly aware that when I play, it hurts something inside my bones.  I can never place a finger on exactly what it is but I know that feeling.  It means the pitch is off.  Probably flat, as that's what pianos usually do when they're not tuned, but nonetheless, I can't tell what it is.  This morning I hit the corresponding key on my keyboard to the keys on the piano.  I found a few particularly icky areas but even those were not certain to me.  It still sounds close enough to my ear to not sound "bad" on any individual keys outside those I know best - the C4-C5 range.  C4, D4, E4, F4, G4… and the sharps in between… they interchangeably sound awful to me, even though I swear I liked the tone of the piano previously and still like the rest of the notes.

Something's definitely off.  I hate not knowing how to discern what, though!  It's simply not in my brain's abilities to have "perfect pitch" I guess.  I should probably be happy I can tell there's even anything off at all.  But whenever I call the piano tuner guy, I always get asked, "Does it need a pitch raise?"  I always say, "Um… mayyyybe…?"  I don't know.  I know what that means.  I don't know if my piano needs it.  Do most people who play pianos know this?

Now, the thing that REALLY baffles me is this.  I know, beyond a doubt, that the tea kettle's first whistle is a very definite A.  I believe it's A5, to be exact.  I don't know how they got that to tune that way, but I can hum to it every morning as I bustle around waiting on that water.  Not only that, but I can hear that sound in my audio memory so precisely that I can hum it just before the thing goes off, and I can hum it on command just before hitting A5 on my keyboard.  To me - remember that my pitch isn't perfect - it sounds perfect.  I know I'm in the ball park.  I know that I'm darned close.  And my voice remembers where to go to hit that one note, even without prompting.  So somewhere in my head is the ability to duplicate what I hear, at least.  The problem, then, is that I don't hear some sublety in pitch.

Is this related to CAPD?  Or am I overanalyzing this?  I mean, am I putting down my abilities, like Dale says I do, believing that I've actually got a processing problem even when it comes to music?  Or is it that I'm quite normal and that the majority of the population cannot tell the difference, either?

I may never know the answer, and it doesn't matter.  But my curiosity often kills me on this.  Mum always told me I was tone-deaf.  I have often wondered if she has perfect pitch.  Much of my family was music on a hobby level at the very least.  I love music.  If I were tone-teaf, I know I would not be able to know that the tea kettle hums a nice happy A5, nor would I be able to match it so closely.  I've worked hard, off and on, for years, to get as good as this as I have.  Musicians practice far more regularly and longer than I have.  Why do I think that I should have an ear as good as a good musician's ear?  Why do I think that?  I don't know.  It might be the whole Mum-says-you-must-be-perfect thing.  But… I don't have to play for people.  So why do I care about proving I can do it?

I love music.  I love challenges.  Music is probably the biggest challenge I have ever had skill-wise.  It confounds me as much as speech and colour, because these are things that words cannot truly describe.  How do you explain warmth?  How do you explain the tingles that go up your spine when you hit upon a realization, the perfect note, or the perfect lyrical construction?

Bah.  Who knows.  The tuner guy is here.  LOL.

~me

20130416

Bucky Balls

http://on.aol.com/video/buckyball-manufacturers-refuse-to-comply-with-recall-517745232?hp=1&playlist=127155&icid=maing-grid7%7Cmain5%7Cdl15%7Csec1_lnk3%26pLid%3D298644#_videoid=517742698

GO BUCKY BALLS!!!!!

Seriously.  It's not that I don't care if children have been injured by these things.  I do care.  What I care more about is how these kids got them in the first place.  Did they kill their parents, go to the store, rip open a package, and eat the darned things?  No.  Somehow, someone somewhere close to home, allowed them to get to them.  Sure, if they didn't exist, the kids couldn't get new ones.  How about if kids don't exist in the first place?  I think we should ban reproduction.  You want your kids, huh?  Well, I want bucky balls.  My buying bucky balls didn't seem to stop people from having kids.  Why should people having kids prevent me from having bucky balls?

I'm sorry, but parents know better than to give magnets - of any kind - to a child who is going to stuff anything they get their hands on in their mouth.  And if they don't, it's not the manufacturer's (or the store's) fault.  Nor mine.

I lead you to this prank, which unfortunately, is where we seem to be headed:

Don't believe me?  Would YOU give your kids a dangerous item?  Would YOU ban a product like a knife, a car, a pencil (how many kids get stabbed with lead pencils every year?), computers, electricity…?!  Egads, America, GET REAL.  These objects do not require their being banned.  They require your watching your kids!!  Seriously!!  Tell your local reps or whomever to get off their lazy asses and do some real work.  This shit has got to stop.  I mean, heck, I went out unsupervised with friends and leapt from tree to tree over a swamp when I couldn't even swim.  Should we ban swamps and trees?

Where do we draw the line between intentionally dangerous and people who don't think?

~w

20130413

Caaaats vs breakfast

I have begun a hazardous ritual this morning.  I lead Sinclair into his favourite room and give him a handful for cat food.  Then I shut the door in Gizmo's face and lead him to the bathroom.  I give him a few morsels, knowing that he's pudgy already because he gobbles up most of what is served to all three of them each morning.  Kitty is always sleeping so I've stopped worrying about her in the mornings and try to snag her later for a trio-cat-treat.  She can hold her own with Gizmo, it's Sinclair that's bashful.  Anywho, Gizmo gets shut in the bathroom with his morsels.  The only reason I give him anything is because I don't want him to think he's being punished.  I often throw him in there when he's being a turd.

I then go eat my breakfast in peace, saving a small slice of egg for Sinclair.  He gets let out just as I'm finishing, he does his "not sure about this egg on the floor" thing while I finish up, then he gets my plate to lick.  This he usually does with the air of someone who firmly believes I was holding out on him but was too polite to say anything, that sort of relief like, "Oh, good, I don't have to pretend anymore."  Then he ravenously licks the plate, which is pretty much liquefied egg, and completely ignores the solid, yolky egg on the floor (I thought he LIKED the yolk?!  Not today?).  Meanwhile, I transfer my tea to my desk and let the Beast (Gizmo) out.  At first he hangs around me, lavishing me with praise for the treat and for being me (yay) and then his ears prick up a split second before he turns into a black streak headed for the kitchen.  He turns into our vaccuum cleaner, driving off Sinclair's final attempts to "tolerate" the leftover egg, and then in about 30 seconds I can go in and pick up an unimaginably clean plate while he washes the floor with his tongue.  And I wonder why I keep forgetting to mop.

Despite the extra effort, it worked this morning.  The catch is that I know they will expect this every time I eat at the counter now… or worse, they'll simply expect it whenever they want to expect it, much like Kitty.  I would be stronger if it weren't for Sinclair's former habit of getting fed at my desk prior to Gizmo coming on board.  He's such a dignified, polite character, and it's hard to resist him.  Alas, we'll see how it goes.  It's a rabbit hole, I know.  But it sure was nice to eat for once without two sets of eyes on me.  :: sigh ::

~w

20130402

Google Chrome update

http://www.pcworld.com/article/2032380/chrome-update-polishes-spell-check-and-fixes-bugs.html

I don't know if the image will stick around, but in the article, look for the image where it shows how Chrome has auto-updated itself.

I think that's funny that they added "bettar cpell chek"... at first I thought my colleague had gotten a virus, but it's legit.  Go figure...

20130328

bah humbug

Today is my birthday.  Stephanie, here at work, redecorated my cubby with pink balloons and streamers and made me wear a tiara set with pinkish stones.  I currently have it on like a Ferengi.  She didn't tell me how to wear it.

 

I will never openly admit this right now because of all the pink, but I like Stephanie.  This was one heck of a payback to what I did to her desk recently.  I owe her now.  I soooo owe her...


Victory will be mine!


~w

20130301

Kyrie

I was reading some blog posts (or comments to such) about APD and stumbled across the title, "Kyrie."  Someone thought it was Carrie and that it was related to Star Wars.  I never had issues with this particular one to my knowledge, although I remember knowing that I couldn't make some things out for a long time.  I just never "misheard" it.  At any rate, it made me remember that I VERY much like the song, and had to go listen to it.  So I drudged it out of my iTunes library and now it's filling my earballs with its awesome, albeit repetitive, sound.

The first thing that I noticed after the slightly annoying start of high-pitched [whatevers] is that it has synthesizers.  Heavy ones.  Mostly on my left side... I do have headphones on, by the way.  I get that sensation of chills in my eardrums... that slightly shivering feeling that's so very pleasant.  It's almost like someone is plucking strings in my ears and tickling my spine with the attached vibrations.  I also become aware of a slightly distant metallic object being struck, like one of those little cymbals in a tamborine.  There are echoes of the voice singing and little echoey smacks.  And then I have to keep rewinding, because I keep swearing I hear an alarm going off, like a smoke detector, but I'm not sure.  At first I ripped the headphones off my head, listening intently.  Then I realized it was in the song.  It had a rhythm to it.  Annoying!  I hate those.  But now that I know what it is, I'm OK with it, even though parts of my body still recoil with fear over the sound.

The song fills out and from this point I stop hearing the individual pieces.  It becomes one huge pile of powerful monotony with an occasional tidbit of focus, lots of rhythm, and then the bridge of "Oh, oh, oh's" that bring my body to the ready.  I feel the chill settle into my spine, through my shoulders.  Then the music dies down some and the echoed repetition of the words draw the slight shiver out of me, both a relief and let down at the same time.  I wanted to stay there.  Yet, the release is immediately followed by the plateau until the song abruptly ends.  There are guitars!  Oh yeah!  I remember hearing those before!  Some of the smaller hairs along my shoulder blades stand on end and wear microscopic holes in the fabric of my shirt.  It's funny how the repetition is doable when I'm engaged.  This is not a song that you can talk over.  It wants to be totally absorbed into your bloodstream, or it will shatter your sense of well-being altogether.  Thankfully, I'm very good at becoming absorbed in things like this.  That's why it's in my iTunes library.  Somewhere.  Oh yeah, and Mark Schultz does an interesting rendition of it, but he's NOT Mr. Mister.  Frankly, his version is far noisier.  It also lacks that echoey eighties feel that I love so very much, and the bridge of Oh's totally throws me into a state of utter, desperate confusion, while nausea sets in for a split second until it heads back towards the noise.  Sigh.  Sometimes the original is simple better.

It never ceases to amaze me how my brain handles different things, though.  I mean, I can hear little plinks in the background of music, but I can't understand the words of someone on the phone without considerable, and exhausting, effort.  For instance, earlier today, I was asked to attend a 1.5-hour phone conference.  There are a few things I hate more than phone conferences, but from a sense of exhaustion and self-worth perspective, not too many.  Being in a real meeting over an hour in length is worse.  Not knowing the subject material in such a real meeting amplifies my discomfort by several nuclear reactions.  This particular phone conference wasn't that bad, but I knew it was probably a waste of time for me to go given the subject matter had little to do with me right now.  Nonetheless, I did not want to seem adversarial in any way so I nodded, grabbed my laptop "for notes" and headed off to the room.  Let me back up briefly...

I hate real meetings more than these phone conferences because I have to pretend I'm paying full attention.  By pretend, I mean, sit up in my chair and act attentive.  This is more distracting to me, and therefore, I tend to pay attention less.  Then I realize this, try to really pay attention, get exhausted trying to understand people, realize I'm slouching and looking tired again, and the cycle keeps repeating.  At least with phone conferences, I can appear distracted.  But I digress.

The room was quiet, with only three other people in it.  I was surprised, and pleased that I knew all of them well enough to feel relaxed.  However, the speaker was muffled and staticky to my ears even as I sat down, and I knew it was absolutely pointless for me to waste any of my mental resources on trying to decipher any of it.  So I didn't bother.  I knew three things:  Someone else was supposed to be taking the notes, I had absolutely no clue what the agenda even meant (at least there was one), and the meeting minutes would be dispersed and shared later.  So, I opened my laptop and began documenting a server that needed to be documented, catching occasional phrases out of context.  A few times, it was so out of context that I had fits of uncontrollable giggles, which amused my compadres.  Glad I could be of service.  I managed to get a whole server done in a chair that was way too high off the ground.  Apparently the system they were talking about has a major hole in it.  That's what I got out of the meeting.  Oh yeah, and I left a half-hour early for lunch because that's when I finished my documentation of that one server, and the subject matter hadn't even begun to make itself evident to me yet.  I'm so awesome.

Not that long ago, my boss asked a couple of us (myself and one other) to do some "brown bag" lunches, where we try to teach people and answer questions.  Ha!  Yeah, I don't think so.  That involves being the center of attention in a situation that is not totally under my control.  I get super spooked by those scenarios.  I immediately managed to talk my colleague into doing the talking, and I'd stick around for moral support and information where needed, as well as the design aspects of the sessions.  She was fine with that and took my professed discomfort quite seriously.  I was very grateful for that.  Anywho, we were joking about it later on and my boss was incredulous when he found out that I really, really hate standing up in front of people.  "You are NOT!" he said.  I totally understand why people might think that I'm OK with the attention.  I've come out of my shell a lot in the past several years.  I joke constantly.  I love talking to friends and colleagues.  I even pop in each morning and go, "HELLLLOOOOO my wonderful little peoples!" as I greet my colleagues - of which there are eight, total, and usually only three to five present to witness this display.  The thing is, I KNOW all of these people.  They know me.  Very well.  And they're all in little cubicles, not staring at me expectantly, not wanting anything from me, no questions on the backs of their heads.  I say this last part because they're generally doing the work when I glean their attention.

In other words, I like to attract attention, and converse, and ramble about whatever is on my wandering little mind.  I do not like structured, expectant sessions with lots of potential for appearing like an idiot.  Appearing like an idiot and acting like one are completely different things to me.  Seriously.

So yeah, I may seem bubbly and sunny and like I'd be the perfect speaker for conveying some new information.  I am very much not that person.  To do this, I would need to have a very strong, passionate grasp on the subject matter, knowing it inside and out, with a very firm belief in what I plan to discuss.  It has to be personal for me, or I flounder, stutter, and have trouble hearing people if they have questions.  I'd have to do it in the morning when my mind is most alert and at the ready - not when I'm starving or have just had a carb crash, such as at noon with or without a snack.  Noon IS lunchtime for me.  And, I'd have to do it in a controlled environment... one where questions are forcibly limited to the subject matter at hand, outside noises are kept at bay, and the audience isn't talking over me or checking their cell phones for email.  Very little, if any, of these requirements could be met, and honestly, are probably not worth the effort when other people are perfectly fine doing the job instead.

I've occasionally been attracted to acting, but never acted on it (haha) because as soon as I begin to imagine doing it, I remember that in addition to a huge time commitment, it would also mean performing in front of people.  The cold sense of fear that twists my spleen into a knot is overwhelming, so I have always quickly discarded the idea of acting.  DND is perfect for this aspect of myself, after all... and tea parties work, too.  I have outlets for my dramatic side.  Good ones!

Anywho, ramble over.  I've got some more tea to make.

~w

20130223

Microsoft vs Google vs Apple

I wasn't around when the Z1 came about, or the ENIAC, or the UNIVAC.  They're ancient history in my world, an important part of computer evolution.  But I was around to see the concept of ARPAnet develop into what we now view as the Internet... when I first learned of computers talking to each other, it was through one three channels:  Modem to modem, PC Link, or a Mainframe.  And all throughout my early life, I remember hearing buzzwords such as Intel, Packard Bell, MicroSoft, WANG, IBM, NEC, Apple, Commodore, Atari, WordStar, WordPerfect, DOS, Mainframe, AOL, Word Processor, Tandy, BASIC, ZIP drives, TAPE MEDIA!!, Pong... yeah, I'm dating myself.  LOL.

All things considered, then, I reckon I was born near the dawn of the Personal Computer Age.

Since then, I've also watched as the BBS concept has evolved into lists, forums, messageboards, and groups.  I've watched e-mail take off from modem-downloaded text to websites embedded in full-colour, sendable with a tap on someone's phone while they're sitting in a pool sipping Chardonnay.  Computers went from mainframes to personal computers to internet-connected nodes and now they're starting to become one big mainframe in some cases, content being stored online in the "cloud" and computers themselves becoming more and more just a dummy terminal for access.  (I don't like that part.  I like my content at home with me.  Just sayin'.)  What was once an excellent way secretly exchange messages over long distances has turned into Identity Theft Central.  It used to be that getting a letter was routine.  Now the post offices are starting to close.  Remember when they tried to charge a nickel for each email to make up for their lost revenue?  Yeah!  I do!

Cable TV.  It was once the replacement for Pay TV.  The idea was that if you didn't like commercials, you paid to get rid of them.  That was the deal.  At some point that changed and commercials made their way back into paid entertainment.  Now "cable" doesn't just mean TV.  It means internet, TV, VoIP, streaming.  Routers were something only the Mysterious Nerds had.  Modems went from modulating and demodulating to pulling and pushing vast quantities of data from all over the world to a plethora of home computers, one or more for each family member ages birth and up.

DragonSpeak is the first voice recognition software that I remember hearing about.  There may have been others.  It was for transcribing notes so you didn't have to type them out.  Now we have Siri and Google working for us, and surprisingly, they work well half the time.

I remember ASCII art being printed on long strings of computer paper, complete with holes along each side.  I was totally floored when I first saw Paint.  I was even more floored when I saw whatever Apple had for a drawing product back in the day.  Remember how you could draw a few lines, then pass a rotating line over it and get Chicago 19 album cover art?  Yeah!!  Now we've got PhotoShop, complete with LAYERS.

It was wondrous when games came on cartridges, a great change to when they were one-game-per-machine.  It was pretty cool when they began coming out on diskettes, and later, CDs.  Then they were downloadable without leaving your chair.  Now you go to an App Store or Google Play where there are gazillions of them for a buck.

Remember music?  It used to live on the radio, records and tapes.  CDs were later touted as "virtually indestructible."  (Not to be a dweeb, but some of my tapes are almost 30 years old now.  Admittedly, I've never lost a CD to a tape-munching deck, though, and they don't have crackles and pops in them.  On the other hand, the sound quality sounds fake to me at times.  But I digress.)  For a time, music and software became an underground trading society and suddenly people knew of bands they didn't even know they might like... and that viruses were often packaged in strange ways.  The RIAA and anti-piracy campaigns came onto the scene and broke most of that up.  Then online stores came out with listening previews.  THAT was pure genius.  Music and bookstores are now going out of business, all for the sake of laziness, efficiency, cost, and/or instant gratification, depending on who you talk to.  Albums still exist, but songs can be purchased separately.  Books are searchable rather than scannable.

Viruses have evolved from extension-hiding beasties to drive-by infections from websites.

Companies have changed hands, .COMs rose and fell, and "geeks"  went from being unusual freaks to desirable clubs.

And people still talk.  A lot.  But that's changed, too.

We still have get-togethers and parties of course.  But our phones have evolved to be a single landline that swapped its connection between modem and phone call to cell phones, Skype, iChat, and Google Voice.  We've also watched the rise of Facebook, Twitter, MySpace, Google Hangout, and more chat clients than I can even count.

As I write this, some of the early giants have climbed out of the depths of antiquity and found themselves evolving - both out of the need to survive (heck, for me, it's KEEP UP!!) and out of the need to create, polish, and perfect.

Google used to compete with a dogpile.  Now it's competing with Microsoft.  It's competing with Apple, which goes into hibernation but somehow always wakes up again.

We are connected.  All the time.  Almost anywhere.  At speeds.  Far faster.  Than downloading.  Porn.

And that, my fellow technoweenies, is progress.

It might also assist in the collapse of the world as we know it.  But until that day, boys and girls, REJOICE in all that is awesome!!  I am!

~w


20130222

Pathogen Misconceptions!

The other day a friend wanted to meet up.  I'm like, sure, not an issue.  I went on to say how I was feeling better finally after my uvula had swollen up so much that it was using my tongue as a slip and slide into a pool of stomach acid.  What caused that, I was asked.  No clue, I said, but I had a one-day cold two days ago, so maybe it's related.  Maybe we shouldn't hang out, I was told.  I don't want my girlfriend getting sick, she just started a new job.  Okay, I agreed.  I explained that even the doc person didn't know what was wrong and prescribed antibiotics just in case it was bacterial.  Oh, in that case, come on over, I was told.  Huh?  Okay.

This made me chuckle.  I hadn't realized he was predisposed to the same misconception that much of the general public appears to be in agreement on.  Taking antibiotics means you're no longer contagious.  WRONG!!

If it's an undetermined cause, taking antibiotics does not mean the infection is gone.  It means the doc wanted to be safe in case it happened to be bacterial, and it is not possible that whatever invaded your body is now under fire and dying a miserable death.  However, most colds and flus are caused by viruses.  So, antibiotics don't mean anything unless the pathogen has been confirmed.  In fact, they're overprescribed because of this exact misunderstanding over the nature of germ types.  And it doesn't matter how many times you explain it to people, most will argue with you about it because they think drugs can cure everything and since you're not a doctor, you can't possibly know anything.  (Like they can.)  Not to say my friend argued about it with me... he's not really that type, and besides, I didn't bother to voice my understanding of the matter.

Back to the subject at hand, though.  Taking antibiotics means that one's body is under additional strain because any good bacteria is targeted as much as bad bacteria.  So, if anything, taking these things means that a person is more prone to suffering at the hands of additional crud (namely, viruses, which are immune to antibiotics) because the immune and nutrition centers have been compromised even further.  That's reason enough to avoid seemingly healthy people that might be carrying something that has not caused an illness in the carrier.  Doesn't mean someone else can't catch it, after all.

Anywho, I'm going to visit with my peoples anyway because I trust my body to do its thing and be stronger for it.  There was some theory somewhere that if the body doesn't have anything to fight off that it would fight itself, hence so many allergies and such these days.  It's an immunity powerhouse meant to kill pathogens.  If it doesn't have its past time, it turns on itself.  Interesting theory.  Not going to go exposing myself to typhoid on purpose, though.  But I'm not going to stop living, either.

Oh!!  And I was reading about helping diarrhea, which is a common side effect of taking antibiotics.  Several articles mentioned BRAT - bananas, rice, applesauce, toast.  They also said, "Lots of water, but NO CAFFEINE EVER!!"  I just happened to be having a nice long indulgent sip of a new, fresh tea that had arrived on my doorstep when I read that.  I made a mental middle finger and stuck it up.  I wasn't about to be told to refrain from a nice warm cuppa after a long day of drinking copious amounts of water and tasting the nice, dull - yet also metallic - taste of antibiotic in my mouth all afternoon.  Screw you, I thought.  I don't mind diarrhea.  I do mind not having my cuppa!!  :)

Life is good though.  I feel better than I've felt in a while.  For one thing, I have fresh tea and my uvula has retreated from my stomach!!

~nv

20130204

ahhh cuppa

Nothing quite like having a nice, clean desk and surrounding area.  That really REALLY needed to get done!  Place looks halfway decent, now.  Just gotta clean up the junk desk.

Now I'm enjoying a nice hot cup of Earl Grey, some cookies, and computer time. :)

I love not being sick anymore... and I love life, too.  Especially when it's like this.  :D :D :D

~w

20130201

ugh

I officially hate this project I'm working on.

So far I've tried booting off several flash drives, the optical, a couple of discs, and... nothing.  Then I tried installing to a VM connected directly to the partition throw a raw file.  That failed miserably, but was the closest I got.  Until I recognized this little command called "bless."  I then "blessed" the efi files of my optical and immediately rebooted.  Lo!!  I was able to get Windows 8's installer to load!!

Then it gave me some additionally horrible news.  My disk is EFI, not GPT.  Windows 8 only likes GPT disks.  Says it won't boot, either.  I'm like, screw you, and went back into the Mac and wiped out that whole partition so it was unallocated.  Then I tried again.  (Had to rerun my command for bless of course, but I wrote a shell script for that.)  YAY!!  Got farther!!  Then as it reallocates the space for me, it goes, "Nope, sorry, still EFI.  Screw you."

GARHAHAHAHGHGAHGHGHGHGHGHHHHHHBLARRRRRGHGHGHGHHH!!!!!!!!!!

So, I'm thinking this is one of two things.

1. I need to put W8 on my SSD, which is bootable because it's my primary drive or
2. I need to wipe out my storage drive temporarily, figure out how to make it bootable, and/or put Windows on there first then if needed re-clone the drive back to it from the original.

If I could figure out how to make the Mac rewrite the MBR so Windows thinks the drive is bootable, I might be able to get somewhere here.  I suspect that because Windows cannot touch Mac drives, it's totally wonkered out by all this crap.

I'm seven or so hours into this.  I'm exhausted and still recovering from that damned flu.  I think I'll sleep on this and then struggle with it more later when I'm more refreshed.  It's so hard to let go of, though.  Argh!

~the irritated Mountain Lion and hopefully some day Windows 8 user
ps did you notice that Windows 8 can be abbreviated W8 which spells Wait?  lololol

in sickness and in health

Not the marriage part.  That's fine.  Dale's always supportive of me in my personal decisions... what I meant by the subject "in sickness and in health" is that I cannot stop thinking about computers even when I'm so sick I'm asleep during the daytime.  Yes, the daytime.  Today is day four of a flu that knocked me out for the past three days.  I finally felt better yesterday afternoon - well enough to enjoy a cup of tea.  Yes, TEA!!  I hadn't had tea for days!!  DAYS!!!!!

I took another day off today knowing I wouldn't want to work with a dripping sneezing nose and uncontrollable cough... although in truth, I will likely get a few things done at home later today once I'm done poking at my personal laptop.

For today, I have installed a new hard drive in my laptop.  BUT I've been having mucho trouble installing Windows 8.  Dammit!  So far I've concluded that Talon doesn't like booting from Windows 8 discs.  I'm going to try to bootcamp from a usb flash drive instead.  We'll see how that works.

Black screen with underscore.  Not good.  We shall see how my new procedure works...

~w
ps I need to eat, too, don't I... lol