Madness and Mayhem

YAY!!!

2005-11-01T15:30:00.000-08:00

I got the job!!

I will be doing phone support for personal navigation systems. The company seems to be a really good company, and I'm very excited about this opportunity.

Wish Me Luck!

2005-10-26T17:38:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow morning I go on my first job interview. I would be doing phone support, but it wouldn't exactly be IT-related, and there wouldn't be any travel associated with it. I'm very excited, so wish me luck!!

Adventures Aplenty

2005-10-17T16:56:00.000-07:00

I have never lived anywhere other than Louisiana before, and I am finding that every day in a new place is an adventure in and of itself. It seems that what used to be just getting out to go somewhere such as a grocery store or the like has become a road trip requiring bottled water, snacks, and a map.

It's really kind of cool though. Massachusetts is really beautiful. In contrast to Louisiana (prior to the Hurricane), there seems to be nature everywhere that has not been inhibited by development. While there are industries and places of business, one can still drive around and appreciate the landscape. The changing season is absolutely phenomenal. Wish you were all here to see it.

So far, we've ventured to Salem and Essex, and have plans to go to Rockport very soon so that the Divine Miss M can see the ocean. I'm really looking forward to that. We're also planning a jaunt into Boston, but that may not happen for a few more weeks. We still have business to tend to for most of our days which does not allow for an entire day trip. I'll post some pictures as soon as I get my PC set up.

What a Ride

2005-10-11T12:34:00.000-07:00

Well, I'm back and what an interesting few months it has been.

For those of you who do not know, I lived in Louisiana, about 14 miles from downtown New Orleans, in a little city named Kenner. Kenner is where the Louis Armstrong International Airport is located, and I lived about 5 minutes from it.

Just prior to the arrival of Hurricane Katrina, the Divine Miss M and I were going to buy our first house. It was small, but was something better than a rental, and we really liked it a lot. The day before Katrina made landfall, we were scheduled for our first inspection. As Southeatern Louisiana began to evacuate, we did too, and we did not even have the first inspection on our little house done.

For those of you who have not experienced a hurricane evacuation, there are some things that are standard. First, you must make friends with people who live a safe distance from coastal areas who also don't mind having lots of people stay at their house for a few days at a time, a few times a year. If you do not have this luxury, you must plan to find a hotel room. Usually, if this is your option, plan to drive a few states away as most of the closer hotels fill quickly. If you have pets, this is not a good option as many hotels do not allow you to bring your pets with you. Shelters are also an option, but typically, this means that you will be in a big room full of lots of people you probably don't know. These shelters are typically located in whatever town or city you live in, and I suppose these are set up primarily for people who don't feel safe in their homes but don't wish to travel. Pets are typically not welcome in shelters either.

The Divine Miss M and I have the great fortune of having friends who welcome us to stay with them during evacuations. We stayed with them during the evacuation for Hurricane Ivan last year and again for the majority of the evacuation for Hurricane Katrina. With us were 9 adults, 12 dogs, and 12 cats.

In hindsight, the fear of Katrina began before the storm ever made landfall, and for me, lasted until just last week. When a category 5 storm has South Louisiana, and particularly the metropolitan New Orleans area in sight, it's never a good thing. For years, we have watched the local Meteorologists talk about what would happen to us if we were ever hit by "The Big One" and it pretty much stated everything that you, as a nation, witnessed on television. What we didn't know was how hard it would be to get reliable information once the storm had passed.

Initially, we lost power for about 12 hours. In that time, we heard countless rumors on the radio about pumping stations being washed away, waters inexplicably rising, and later, that our neighborhood was under 20 feet of water. Let me just say to you that that is never something you want to hear, regardless of whether it's true. We heard that it would be weeks before we would be able to return to our homes to assess our damage, and communications were a nightmare. There are some friends we have still been unable to reach.

In the days following, once we had power restored, we watched as many of you did, in astonishment and horror to see our homes, our landmarks, our businesses, all completely devastated. We thanked the powers that be that we and our pets were all safe and made plans to get out of state.

A week or so after Katrina, we were allowed back into our city in order to salvage what we could. We determined that we only had 6 inches of water in our home, and that the mold that had begun to grow had only gone about a foot up the wall. The truly remarkable thing for us was that we had electricity. I can only assume that we shared the grid with our local hospital. At that time, we removed anything from our apartment that meant anything to us and had any value whatsoever. We left the air conditioning on as well as all of our lights in the hopes that we would retard the mold growth. It worked. We only had 4 days to go back and forth, however, and getting a moving van to assist us in getting everything out was impossible.

It seems that FEMA and the Red Cross decided that they needed every moving van from Baton Rouge to New Orleans in the event that they might want to distribute some aid. I think they later decided that the aid wasn't that important, but the vans were. Every rental place we went to apologetically explained that FEMA and the Red Cross has reserved every van coming in, but the funny thing was that in driving past the local mall, van after van sat parked in the parking lot, empty and unattended. The same thing happened in the local Wal-Mart parking lot. Van after van, and at that time, no aid was coming in. Ironically, we were finally able to get a moving van out of Lafayette two days after Hurricane Rita paid us a visit.

We lost very little in the way of materialistic things. The worst loss, however, came only days after we were allowed to come back to our homes for good. Pringles the Wonder Cat grew ill while we were staying with our friends. I brought him to the local vet who told me that he was dehydrated and stressed out. I had no reason to question her -- made sense that he was stressed. His condition did not improve, and the day after Jefferson Parish became open to the public, I brought him to a vet closer to home. It was a Friday, 10 minutes before the clinic closed, but the doctor told me that Pringles' condition was serious, gave him a shot of B-12 and an anti-inflammatory, and told me that if his condition did not improve over the weekend, to bring him back on Monday. I did just that. As it turned out, Pringles was suffering from Pneumonia and a secondary infection of Gastroenteritis. He lived for three more days and then I lost my little boy cat. It may sound stupid, but I would trade my house and everything that was in it to have that little cat back. He was only 6 and was very healthy until this whole thing. I'm still not ok about it.

A week after Pringles died, the Divine Miss M and I were packed and ready to move. We have some wonderful friends in Concord, Massachusetts who have opened their home to us and are letting us stay here until we get back on our feet. We are currently in the process of looking for jobs and becoming acclamated to our new environment. It's very pretty here.

A Great Big Happy Birthday

2005-06-30T16:36:00.000-07:00

As some of you may already know, 29 years ago today, I was given the gift of a baby brother. At the time, I didn't know how great a gift it really was, but in my adulthood, I have an appreciation for him, and have often thanked my mother for having him.

In honor of Kris' birthday, I'd like to share one of his favorite childhood songs with you.

*Ahem.*

I was born in the wagon of a travellin' show
My mama used to dance for the money they'd throw
Papa would do whatever he could
Preach a little gospel, sell a couple bottles of doctor good

Chorus

Gypsys, tramps, and thieves
We'd hear it from the people of the town
They'd call us gypsys, tramps, and thieves
But every night all the men would come around
And lay their money down

Picked up a boy just south of mobile
Gave him a ride, filled him with a hot meal
I was sixteen, he was twenty-one
Rode with us to memphis
And papa woulda shot him if he knew what he'd done

Chorus

I never had schoolin' but he taught me well
With his smooth southern style
Three months later I'm a gal in trouble
And I haven't seen him for a while, uh-huh
I haven't seen him for a while, uh-huh

She was born in the wagon of a travellin' show
Her mama had to dance for the money they'd throw
Grandpa'd do whatever he could
Preach a little gospel, sell a couple bottles of doctor good

Chorus

chorus fades

Taking a Break

2005-06-13T20:13:00.000-07:00

Real life happens. For the past couple of weeks, I have been dealing with some rather unpleasant personal business. Because of this, I am taking a short hiatus from blogging. On that note, I will leave you with some points to ponder.

1. During times of crisis, sometimes just lending your ear to someone you don't know can be the one thing that gets you through the hard stuff.

2. Never smoke crack.

3. Don't ever forget that what you do today can bite you in the ass tomorrow.

4. If you have the choice between hospital food and Subway, eat Subway every time.

5. Don't drink espresso when you're having trouble sleeping.

6. Sometimes you have to jump. Mulling forever will never help you decide the right thing to do.

Take care guys, will see you soon!

Eat the Points!

2005-05-24T20:42:00.000-07:00

My maternal grandmother is pretty cool. She was raised in Southern Louisiana by her French mother and Spanish father, and spoke French as her native language until she attended school and learned to speak English. For those of you who have heard a true Cajun accent, hers comes rather close but isn't as thick as you might expect for someone who didn't speak English from the start.

She had 6 children, though one died at 3 months of age from spinal meningitis, and all of her surviving children had children as is the way of things. She has a total of 11 grandchildren, of which I am the oldest.

I have many memories of lunchtime at Granny's house. In particular, I remember sandwiches the most. Assorted siblings and cousins and I would sit around various parts of the kitchen as my grandmother passed out our grub. She'd cut the sandwiches into triangles, and as we began to eat, she'd yell repeatedly to us, "Eat the points!" (My mother says that this pattern of behavior started long before grandchildren came along.)

Here's the problem with eating the points. When half of your sandwich has 3 points at the onset, you then have to choose one with which to start. Okay, no big deal. However, once you take your first bite, you then create two new points from which to choose. If you eat either of those two points, it creates four. Soon, you have a half of a sandwich with nothing but points everywhere, and with your grandmother screaming "Eat the points!" while you continue to make your choices, it can be an undaunting and overwhelming affair.

It's no wonder I have food issues.

No Hitch Hiker at the Theater For Me

2005-05-19T10:39:00.000-07:00

Since we're all about movies this week, I'd like to take this opportunity to say that I will probably not be viewing "The Hitch Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy" on the big screen. Why, you may ask? Well, there are a few reasons.

First of all, I was given the Universe trilogy in paperback at some point in the early-to-mid 80s and never read any of them. I think that at the time, it was merely a matter of rebellion. My dad gave them to me and raved about how good they were and how much I'd like them, so I tossed them aside. A handful of years ago, however, I purchased a hardcover copy of the entire collection bound together in a single volume. I have begun reading it, and though I'm enjoying it, I'm not sure I like it enough to experience the cinematic adaptation on a large screen. I can wait for the DVD.

Next, Episode III is dominating the theaters (did you guys notice that?). Normally, the Divine Miss M and I only go to the movies if there is something we feel that we must see NOW and can't wait for the DVD release, or the film looks promising and we feel the special effects would be best viewed in a larger-than-life format. Because the entire Star Wars following has been waiting 26 years to find out what made Anakin turn to the Dark Side, nothing else showing in theaters right now will matter. Besides, who wants to fight a battallion of Stormtroopers just to make it to the ticket booth?

Lastly, Douglas Adams fans seem to be a cult of their own. Normally, this wouldn't be a problem, but because I already subscribe to two cults (Star Wars and Everquest 2), I must be very choosy about any additional cult followings that I may see fit to eventually join. The Douglas Adams one just isn't me at this time.

Star Wars and the Divine Miss M

2005-05-17T19:14:00.000-07:00

Over the weekend, the Divine Miss M decided that she needed to re-watch Star Wars Episodes 1 & 2 in order to prepare herself for the coming cinematic release of Episode 3. Sounds reasonable, right? Sure it is, except that she didn't quite pick up on the whole storyline the first 500 times that we watched the films. I recall as we drove away from the theater after watching Episode 2, that she asked me some sort of strange question and I knew at that instant that we did not watch the same film.

After reviewing the films this weekend, 7 hours later, ladies and gentlemen, she was able to tell the difference between the Republic and the Trade Federation, was able to tell me who was whose Padawan and Master, why every single thing happened, and was even able to tell me how the plot so far tied into the original trilogy. She had a bit of trouble with which characters were Sith in which films, but I think we got that under control in the end too. She can even tell me now what midichloriens are and why they are of any significance to the Force and subsequently the Jedi. I am very proud.

A Sad, Sad Day in the Blogosphere

2005-05-16T20:02:00.000-07:00

Wow.

I came home this evening and worked intensely on the Webpage that none of you have seen yet, then set about to make my daily rounds to my favorite blogs. What I found was terribly sad. Both Kris and Citrus will no longer be updating their blogs.

Citrus, though I did not interact with him much, brought a unique perpective on things and I looked forward to reading his blog every day. What an incredible writer. It saddens me to think that there will no longer be pictures of lemons adorning his day-glo yellow site and insights into his memory and humor. (And you guys didn't like my day-glo pink. Pfffttt.)

Additionally, I can only hope that Kris will continue to post on Dinner for Two. And Nogh. My brother is, simply put, brilliant and hysterical. He has been one I could lean on, one I could count on to be behind me in times when I felt completely alone, and one of the few people who could make me laugh with such a fervor that I felt the ramifications days afterwards. He's one of the most down-to-earth people I have ever known and beneath the silliness, he has an enormous capacity for empathy and caring for those around him. It is most unfortunate that we will miss out on his creativity and humor, and it's even more unfortunate that I'm the only one of his readers who knows the man behind the blog.

My Enchanted Childhood

2005-05-11T16:35:00.000-07:00

I have visited many a blog recently that has delved into childhood memories of one sort or another. As I'm generally not very original, I am going to share one of my own with you.

My grandfather, who is now deceased, was undoubtedly one of the coolest people who ever walked this planet. He was a very big man, standing at 6'2", and when I was very young, he was perhaps almost as big around. He was bald, had a quick wit, knew no strangers, and loved his family to the core of his being. I always loved him.

When I was very small, my grandfather and I shared really cool things together. He used to take me on walks along the golf course, which ran behind his house, in search of stray golf balls. He'd fish them out of what we called "The Crick," which translates to a Witcher, West Virginia version of the word creek. It was really just a big ditch, but "The Crick" it was until its demise many years later.

My grandfather was also a gardener. His garden spanned the entire length of his house and took up possibly a quarter of a lot. One of my favorite pasttimes was walking through the garden with him. Before the tender shoots began to make their way out of the dirt, I couldn't tell what areas were safe to walk on and which had seedlings just below the surface. My grandfather would tell me "Step on my feet, Dusti," which meant that it was safe to step in his footprints. His feet were large and his footsteps spaced rather far apart, and I remember having to jump to meet each step he took.

The best times, however, were the times he took me out in his golf cart to a manmade pond not far from the house. We'd bring a partial loaf of Roman Meal bread with us, park the golf cart off to the side of the path, and feed the ducks. Near the pond was a nasty little bathroom and a water fountain. I had to drink from that fountain every time we went, and he had to lift me to reach it each and every time. We didn't talk much during these outings, but it was always cool just to be with my Paw.

The golf cart was housed in the garage, and every time we pulled into the driveway from one of our duck feeding excursions, I would yell, "Open Sesame, " wave my hands in the air as if to telekinetically raise the garage doors, and without fail, they would open. I knew in my heart that I was magic, and my grandfather never told me any differently. It turned out that my grandmother would sit by the window and watch for us to pull into the driveway and would go out to the garage and open the door.

As a young adult, when I visited with him, my grandfather would tell and retell his favorite stories of his memories from when my brother, sister, and I were little. This was never one of them, but it has always been among mine.

Some Things Never Change

2005-05-07T13:06:00.000-07:00

I grew up in a relatively small town for the first 15 years of my life. It was a pretty safe place to grow up. Children played about the neighborhood while their parents set out to do parental things like organize produce co-ops and the like. The school system was excellent under Louisiana standards, and I met most of my friends in kindergarten or before and kept them throught my stay there and then some.

When I was 15, I left my small town home and moved to another, even smaller town, ready for a new existence. That summer, my mother and I lived alone in a trailer on a dead end street. I took a part time job as a carhop at the local Sonic in order to be able to have some extra money and to purchase my own school clothes - a luxury I had not had for two years. I made a few friends at my job and expected that I would continue to have them when I began school in the fall, and was pretty excited about the opportunity to expand my friend base and make afresh start.

Now, I know that kids are cruel, but what I found upon my first day at my new school was that this small town bred an entirely different kind of cruel. They didn't take kindly to outsiders, and when my new friends from my job realized that no one else liked me, they dropped me like a hot potato. I was alone in a completely alien environment with no one even remotely like me.

I should have known that I would have issues the day that I enrolled at the school. I spoke to the school counselor and expressed my interest in taking a speech class. He told me repeatedly that I did not want to do that. Completely dumbfounded, I persisted until he told me that the teacher who taught the speech class was black. Folks, this wasn't 1950. This was 1987, and I was floored. I told the counsellor again that I wanted to enroll in the class, so finally, he went ahead and enrolled me. The next class was even worse, as I wanted to join the chorus. He explained again that I didn't want to do that, we went through the same dialogue, and again, he begrudgingly signed me up.

On my first day, I realized why the counsellor didn't want me to join the chorus. I was the only white kid in the class. I didn't care, mind you, but it took a while for the other kids in the class to accept me. See, the town and the school, for all practical intents and purposes was largely segregated. Sure, we all shared the same restrooms and cafeterias, but the people there still didn't get it. We had the school's first integrated Prom during my junior year in 1989, and I can assure you that there was a tremendous uproar about it.

I guess that I didn't make things easy on myself as I didn't care what the other kids called me when I chose to hang around with my black friends. They were truly remarkable people and I didn't care about the color of their skin. By the time I was a couple of months into the school year, I was not only an outsider and therefore not worthy of my existence, but I was also a white girl haging out with the black folk, and that was completely unacceptable.

These were the times of acid-washed denim, and I remember telling my mother that I wanted an acid-washed jacket for Christmas. Having quit my job at Sonic shortly after my "friends" there began to treat me poorly, I no longer had spending money and therefore didn't have the means to buy my own. My mother didn't either. Instead of getting an acid-washed jacket, she asked me if a regular denim jacket would be ok. I agreed, thinking that I could do any number of things to it to make it really cool.

Once home, I found a plastic bucket, some bleach, a spray bottle, and a hair dye applicator. I filled the spray bottle with water and the applicator with bleach, wet the entire black of the jacket with the spray bottle, pressed the top of the bucket into the denim in order to form a circle, bleached the circle, and then bleached lines through it, forming a giant peace symbol. I've always been a hippie at heart and was exceptionally proud of my work.

Evidently, no one in the school knew what a peace symbol was, as they began calling me a witch. At first, I didn't get it, but later someone said something to me about the upside down cross on the back of my jacket. Idiots. It made the remainder of my time there a living hell. They called me a devil worshipper and asked me if I was going to turn them into frogs, and if I could have, the town would now be likened to Calaveras county.

So why the trip down not-so-nostaligic memory lane? As it turns out, my thirteen-year-old stepsister is now attending thesame school. And it hasn't changed ONE bit. Her first day of school she was called a "s/him", a hermaphrodite, and a dyke. I felt a flood of resentment rush through me as my mother recanted the story to me. My stepsister is living there because her mother threatened to throw her out on the street, so it's not like she didn't go into the situation with some issues already. And it's not like there's anything I can do to help her except to listen and be supportive. My heart really does go out to this kid - she's got a long four years ahead of her.

New Template

2005-05-07T10:20:00.000-07:00

Ok, as you can see, I'm working on a new template. Hopefully when it's done it'll be easier on the eyes.

So, I Had An Adventure Today

2005-04-30T22:18:00.000-07:00

I am not good with children. At all. In fact, this is precisely why the Divine Miss M and I have decided not to have them by any means possible. However, I now have a 13-year-old stepsister (as does Kris, but he hasn't met her yet) and I've had to learn how to interact with her. What's particularly difficult for me is the fact that she is very much like I was when I was 13, and I identify with where she is right now in many ways. Having just moved in with my mom and her husband, she is in need of positive rolemodels and people who will pay attention to her. I'm just not sure that I'm the best rolemodel for her. Sure, I have turned my life around considerably and am not the delinquent that I was sure I would wind up being. But when you're 13, you think you know everything and you don't listen to anyone. She's got a lot of potential and is very bright. I just hope she listens to what I have told her and winds up doing things the right way. Ultimately, though, the adventure today was my experience with her. I felt like maybe I might be better with kids than I thought. In fact, she had some Play-Doh in her room and I didn't try to put it in her nose. BIG STEP for me. It was an adventure.

Wow, An Update!

2005-04-28T17:13:00.000-07:00

Ok, so I haven't been updating. There are many reasons for this. First, I bought a new car. It's maroon, and it's the first new car I've ever owned. Second, the Divine Miss M had a birthday earlier this week. Third, I've been busting ass on our website (owned by myself and 3 other gamer guys) which has an official launch date of June 1st, ready or not. I'd rather be ready. Lastly, I haven't had much to say. I have, however, been trying to keep up with my blogworld, but haven't had the best of success.

Some things of note:

1. People are just assholes as a rule, and I'm really ready to have my own planet now.
2. Working hard doesn't always seem to get you ahead in this world, so why bother working?
3. There is such a thing as too much chocolate.
4. I miss Starbucks' Mocha Coconut Frappuchinos. I'm really over retail/consumables industries that make shit that I love and then stop making it. That goes for the roasted garlic bread at Subway and Bavarian Chocolate Orange tea from Celestial Seasonings. Bastards.
5. Beignets are overrated and do not make for very good breakfast food.

Day 3: The Fort

2005-04-21T20:23:00.000-07:00

Today, construction began on the fort protecting my house. The construction workers were kind enough to build an area in the back to house my livestock, and they even graciously ran all the networking cable for me so that I still have Internet access. As you can see, there is still some work to be done, but I figure that by December, the steel and concrete enforcements will be in place and I should be in pretty good shape.

Copycat Crime

2005-04-21T19:50:00.000-07:00

So, while doing some thinking, I have come to the conclusion that Kris has let me down. For years he has had a much better imagination than I, got into trouble for doing cooler stuff than I, and has had a much quicker wit than I. However, since the declaration of the Play-Doh war, his threat has merely been to insert Play-Doh into my nasal cavity in retaliation for 1.) doing the same to him when he was two years old, and 2.) for encouraging his unknowing girlfriend to send him a can of Play-Doh, which she did. Tsk, tsk, dear brother. I would think that you would come up with something better than that.

When copycat crimes are committed, it is typically because the perpetrator seeks notoriety and rarely does the copycat crime overshadow the original. Because of this simple fact alone, you must find an alternate method of retaliation, dear brother of mine, or your efforts will be lessened by the simple fact that it was not an original act. Nor can you hold me down and leave your finger on my elbow for a prolonged period of time. It must be something truly revolutionary for you to get your just retribution.

Day 2: The Suit

2005-04-20T18:27:00.000-07:00

This is how I spent my morning. First, I went to the local hazardous waste facility and rented a space suit as pictured above. I had them fill it with that spray foam insulation so as to seal any potential openings. It's not pictured here, but there is a little air hole in it that is filtered so as to not let anything IN. Next, I went to the local concrete shop and had them custom mold some cinderblocks. I'm waiting for them to dry as we speak. I figured that I would build a really, really high wall around my house since my brother is afraid of heights, and I doubt that he would climb that wall in order to get to me. If he does, it's ok. I watched The Goonies this evening to make sure that I got all of the booby trap ideas I could muster to place behind said wall. (Don't tell him about that part or he'll be expecting it.) Tomorrow will prove to be an equally busy day as I have to go hire Navy Seals, and take out a loan for the extra charge I'm sure to incur for not allowing them to sleep. I have a new appreciation for the military. I had no idea that going to war could be so time consuming.

Preparedness is NOT Overrated

2005-04-19T15:34:00.000-07:00

Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to my new look. In this day and age of the threat of terrorism and brotherly retaliation, I can only think that this is the best way to ensure myself a safe existence.

It's On

2005-04-18T15:54:00.000-07:00

There are some inherent things in this life that just suck, no matter what. Working, stress, strife, stupid people, you get the idea. But as with everything, there is a balance in life, and one can experience equal joy. Play-Doh is one of my joys.

What my brother has said is very true. He has not, dear readers, led you astray. Not only did I subject him to Play-Doh-up-the-nose, I also encouraged his girlfriend to send him a can of Play-Doh to Iraq.

Now, before I continue, there are a few things that I must tell you in order to assure that you have the entire story. I was a child of seven when I imbued my brother's nasal cavity with a ball of Play-Doh. I really did not do it with malice in my heart. I love my brother and I kinda liked him a little back then, but kids don't rationalize things, not even at age seven. I remember distinctly thinking what a great idea it would be if he could smell Play-Doh all the time. Hell, I'd have enjoyed it myself except that I didn't think about putting the Play-Doh in my own nose. Had I, I probably would have done it to myself. Rather, I committed a selfless act of kindness, dear readers, that went terribly, terribly awry.

Do I have guilt about it? No, not really. I don't remember him throwing up, but I don't doubt that he did. Nor do I remember sticking it far up his nose. Again, I don't doubt that I did. His retelling of the story is indeed probably far more accurate than my own. Though I didn't mean him harm, I still find it incredibly funny, not so much because of the act, but because of the way he tells it.

The other thing that you need to know is that his girlfriend has no prior knowledge of said event. In a conversation she and I had one evening, she told me that she was going to send him a care package and what should she send him? In addition to a few practical things I suggested, I proposed, through laughter, that she should send him a can of white Play-Doh. She didn't understand and I explained that there was a story there and that she should let him tell her. I also assured her that he would know EXACTLY who that Play-Doh was from.

Why did I do this? The answer is very simple. As the original incident ocurred through a selfless act, so did this one. I know that life in Iraq can't be easy, and I'm sure that every bit of laughter one can muster has to make the days pass more quickly. Because I love my brother, and I want him to endure his situation as best as he possibly can, I invoked the Play-Doh incident in an attempt to bring just a little laughter to his day. Additionally, his girlfriend has not been privy to the antics that he and I often participate in, and she seems anxious to be around us when we are up to no good. I felt that this was a perfect way to involve her in our world, so to speak, but still have no dire consequences to contend with.

That said, all I can do is leave it up to you, dear readers, to determine which story speaks loudest to you. You can fall for the poor-younger-brother-who-gets-Play-Doh-shoved-up-his-nose-at-a-wee-age, or you can empathize with the older-sister-who-did-it-because-she-loved-him story. It's up to you.

As for Kris, well, we haven't had any good healthy antics since the last time you were home and Mom separated us at the dinner table. Bring it on! I'm ready for all-out war! :D

Pringles Again

2005-04-15T16:39:00.000-07:00

Pringles The Wonder Cat owning every throw in the house.

Bunny

2005-04-14T20:10:00.000-07:00

This is because I have nothing of interest or disinterest to share today.

Naming Babies

2005-04-11T19:06:00.000-07:00

This post was inspired by this ebay auction.

Ok guys, I know that there are at least a few of you out there who have children. Why would you sell the rights to name your child to someone else? This seems like an Orangejello/Lemonjello type of thing to me. I would never EVER allow somone else to name my kid. Or even my cat.

So what do you guys think? Is this an act of genius or is it purely moronic?

Smelling Jesus

2005-04-08T15:17:00.000-07:00

These candles are supposed to smell like Jesus. What I'm wondering is, how do they know what Jesus smelled like? In reality, I would think that a man living in the Middle East during ancient times probably would not smell like anything I would want permeating my home. I know, I know, I read the article - it's supposed to smell like what Jesus' garments will smell like once he returns to earth. What I want to know about that is, how do people know what something will smell like in the future? Granted, it's in the scriptures, but they didn't know about polyester back then, so how do they know that Jesus won't come back wearing DKNY or something?

Pringles

2005-04-05T20:11:00.000-07:00

This, dear readers, is Pringles the Wonder Cat. He is, of course, mine, and is undeniably the coolest cat on the planet. This is the only way I can share him with the public as he has a tendency to bite people at random.

No More Beano

2005-04-05T15:40:00.000-07:00

Dear Everyone,

There is absolutely no reason for anyone to purchase this product (except for, perhaps, FB.) If you really have to let one rip, please, for all that is good in this world, go to the restroom. And if you can't, please find a safe place that is largely uninhabited to unleash the foulness that dwells within. At first, I thought this site was a joke, but evidently, it is not. Please click the photo to delve into insanity at its best.

Batman? I Will Find Him.....

2005-03-31T19:38:00.000-08:00

Kris, this is just for you.

Beer, Cake, and Neurontin

2005-03-31T19:19:00.000-08:00

It has been brought to my attention that my new background may induce seizures upon the unsuspecting visitors to my blog. Because some of my blogger friends offer such refreshments as beer and cake to their visitors, and blog friends steal ideas, I have come up with the perfect solution to appease all. I will now offer Neurontin for anyone visiting who feels a seizure coming on, and I get to keep the background. Sound good? Thought you guys might like that.

This is for FB

2005-03-31T16:53:00.000-08:00

Kris, this is the answer to your FB problem. Create an iron-on out of the image, transfer it to a t-shirt, and wear it every time you're around him. He may get the message, he may not. The key here, however, is subtlety.

Change Is In the Air

2005-03-30T11:24:00.000-08:00

Ok ladies and gentlemen, it is time for Madness and Mayhem to get a complete overhaul. I have searched far and wide to find the perfect template that mirrors both my personality and the site. I believe I have found just the one, and will be uploading it this evening. Fair warning: it will be loud.

I know you are all anxiously awaiting the spray of color about to grace this, my humble blog, but rest assured that it will be up by the time you read this tomorrow. Sure hope the traffic doesn't distract from the celebratory 200th post at Heightened Thoughts. (Can I have my Big Mac now?)

Blasphemy!

2005-03-28T18:17:00.000-08:00

Read this article.

Here's the problem. I am a Wonder Woman fanatic and always have been. As a small child, I had to watch every possible episode and accumulate every piece of Wonder Woman popiconography I could possibly muster. It didn't even matter what it was - Pez dispenser, the famous Halloween costume that my mother hand made for me, or my incredibly rocking Wonder Woman bathing suit. In fact, the first time I got caught skipping class was a Wonder Woman game gone awry. At the tender age of four, my best friend and I attended the same school. One afternoon, we were involved in an intense game of Wonder Woman on the playground when my class went in after recess. Because her class went inside after mine and we weren't finished playing yet, she hid me in a playhouse we had on the school grounds until the coast was clear. Once we emerged from the playhouse, we resumed our game until it was time for her class to go in. I got busted -- kinda hard to sneak back in class when you're four and you don't understand what could be more important than Wonder Woman.

But I digress.

NO ONE can play Wonder Woman except for Lynda Carter. It's a cardinal sin, heresy, and a sure way to spend eternity in Hell if you support the endeavor.

Blog Jesus, I implore you to intervene.

Lack of Posting

2005-03-25T11:15:00.000-08:00

Wow, this has been a whirlwind of a week. My mom has been enduring some medical issues, I spent 3 days trying to rebuild her computer to no avail, and last night was the first time I've had a full night's sleep in I can't remember how long.

Now that I have been rejuvenated, will work on getting something intersting (or just something) posted soon.

Newsflash

2005-03-22T10:40:00.000-08:00

LIME GREEN!

Everquest2 and the Divine Miss M

2005-03-17T20:14:00.000-08:00

I have a girlfriend -- there, I said it. We will refer to her from here on out as the Divine Miss M. She has just finished her jaunt into Everquest2 tonight as I sit here and catch up on my blogging. As I write this, there is something you must all know. I love her dearly, but we live in two completely different universes. (Universes? Is that the proper plural of universe? Hmmm...) Anyway, when she plays without me, she asks me questions about the game which I have no answer. Doesn't matter that Sony Online has forums for people to research the answers to these questions -- she relies on me as her very own walking EQ2 encyclopedia. Tonight she wants to know why she has a number of quests surrounding things that have to do with Varsoon and why there are multiple places names after Varsoon. This is like asking why the Hundred Acre Wood has to have so many things associated with Winnie-the-Pooh. Varsoon is a character, and I have no answer to the rest.

The real fun is when we play together. Picture it -- six people hiding behind really great looking animated characters slaughtering a mob of undead creatures in a foggy, foreboding forest. We have to kill these creatures in order to go on to the next stage of our adventure. She's a healer and is responsible for taking care of the group, which she does very well. The problem is that as the rest of the group moves on, she's stopped to look at the pretty flowers and then asks me, "Where did everyone go?" We've all discussed this in chat. She doesn't pay attention to chat when she and I are together -- I am her chat. I don't know how she doesn't die more often when we aren't together. Good thing I play a wizard and can kill the things that hit her as she stops in the middle of spawn alley and gets attacked while trying to figure out "what that thing is."

So, no one took me up on my offer to play the FREE Rose Online game. Don't you guys wanna come play Everquest 2 with me and the Divine Miss M? I guarantee you will laugh a lot, if nothing else.

E-Mail and Electronic Communication

2005-03-17T16:36:00.000-08:00

Today's issue: same as the title.

Okay, here's some info for those of you out there who are just dying to know more about me. I work in a mid-sized company that loves e-mail almost as much as the money it brings in. In the context of my company, e-mail has become an inherent evil that should forever be vanquished from the face of the earth.

Here's what happened today. We use a very well known ISP, and because I was in no mood to deal with an insane number of problems today, our Internet service went down. Before I ever got in to work. Silly me thought to myself, "Ah, I'll nip this in the bud and send out a mass mail to everyone, letting them know that Internet service is down and that we will contact them as soon as we have access again." I proceeded to type out a nice little form message, and sent it out in all of its beauteous abundance, and even included the little exclamation mark to show that the e-mail was of great importance. It wasn't even 10 minutes before the phone began to ring.

"Is the Internet down?"

That's not bad, though. A gazillion phone calls is bad. And that's about what I got. The worst part is that when I'd tell everyone that we had sent out an e-mail to let them know that the Internet was down, I was told EVERY time, "Oh, really? I didn't get that e-mail." I work in IT. I KNOW when people don't get their e-mails. I get a system message that tells me when an e-mail is returned and why. Moreover, I double checked each and every one of these calls to make sure that their names were included on the e-mail. Were they? YES!

So, in an act of retribution, I sent out another mail later on this afternoon to give everyone an "update." What that really means is, I mistakenly tried to nip any further calls in the bud. I then called everyone who had called me aftyer the first mail went out to ensure that they had received the second. They had. It didn't even take 5 minutes, however, before the other half of the company who didn't call after the first half did.

"Is the Internet still down?"

Sigh.

Back to Black

2005-03-16T08:32:00.000-08:00

I'm still gonna change this up, but found myself ill for a couple of days and have not tended to my blog nor anyone else's. Will be working on that today.

Revamping Site

2005-03-11T13:48:00.000-08:00

I'm tired of the black background and am going to be experimenting with color. Please be patient while this site undergoes a face lift.

HaloScan is the BOMB

2005-03-11T13:03:00.000-08:00

I now have HaloScan and have lost all of my previous comments. Now if I could only publish to Dinner For Two, I might feel sated.

Why Do People Do This?

2005-03-10T19:57:00.000-08:00

There was a guy who called to speak to my boss today, so I offered to transfer him to her line. He agreed and I did so. He called right back & said that when I transferred him, he reached her voicemail, but that it was very important that he speak with her. Ok. I get that. But what good did it do to call me and tell me that? I cannot produce boss-on-spot and am not sure what I was supposed to do. So, I explained to him that if he got her voice mail, she was probably on the other line or had stepped away from her desk, but that I could take a message for him and have her return his call. To this, he agreed. I don't get it. If anyone out there can explain this behavior to me, please feel free to do so as I'm not getting anywhere with it.

In other news, I can't comment on anyone's blogs, and as I've read, it appears that many others are having the same issue.

I was listening to NPR today on my way home from work, and I actually heard Barack Obama say that he thinks Bush is a genuine guy, and that he is sincere about his platform. Until now, I have had a great deal of respect for Mr. Obama, but come on -- if you don't understand what you're talking about, it's really hard to be sincere about anything. The rest of the interview was pretty good, but it made my ears bleed to hear a democrat give credence to anything that Bush thinks or says.

Wow

2005-03-09T11:44:00.000-08:00

This is truly amazing to me. My brother, who is currently in Iraq, e-mailed me and suggested that we start a blog. Having never blogged before, I thought it was a good idea. Soon afterwards, I felt like starting my own, and this one came to be. In rummaging around, I found a bunch of sites that I really enjoyed reading and decided I should go ahead and link to them -- maybe other people would enjoy them too. Isn't that part of blogging? Am I missing some blogging etiquette that I wasn't previously aware of? Evidently, it's not ok to do this -- I had no idea.

For the record: This is MY blog. Dinner for Two is a blog that my brother and I started, and recently invited one of our friends to join. I do not claim to be 2 different people with 2 different blogs.

Idiot Award of the Day

2005-03-02T17:48:00.000-08:00

The Idiot Award of the Day goes to me since I can't even tell what day of the week it is. Tuesday's Stupid Issue should really be Wednesday's Stupid Issue.

Tuesday's Stupid Issue

2005-03-02T14:54:00.000-08:00

I got an e-mail from one of our clients stating that the headphones on the PC we had just brought out to their office was not working. I know the headphones worked because I tested them myself prior to sending them out. However, many things can happen in transition, so I called to see if I could walk them through fixing the situation. One of the receptionists answered the phone and agreed to help me in the troubleshooting process.

First thing she tells me is that the headphones are on top of the PC in a bag. Ok. This might be indicative of part of the problem. Headphones that are not plugged into something typically don't work. She explained that there were speakers hooked up to the PC, so I asked her to unplug the speakers and plug the headphones into the place where the speakers had been. I then instructed her to reboot the PC to see if she could hear the Windows startup music, which she did. Headphones work.

Sigh.

Four Words

2005-03-01T15:06:00.000-08:00

There are four words in our lexicon which I believe hold the key to solving the majority of the nation's problems.

What are these four words?

"Mind your own business."

I remember my mother saying this to me often as a child, and as a result of these words of wisdom, I believe that I have avoided uncertain, untimely outcomes in many a situation. It's a simple idea, but one that goes a long way in dealing with issues that abound and seem to propagate hatred and division.

So how do these words work towards solving our nation's problems? The following three examples will demonstrate my point.

1. Abortion. The intrinsic problem with the abortion debate is that one side deems the act to be a mortal sin and the other side thinks it's a right. While I'm inclined to agree with the latter, let's take a look at the issue from outside ourselves for a moment. Because we know that birth control methods, aside from abstinence, are known to be less than 100% effective, we'll say that in this case, a welfare mother of four has taken precautions against an unwanted pregnancy but conceives anyway. She's doing her best to support her children, but without adequate job training and a lack of higher education, she relies on the government to help her support her family. She knows that she can't support yet another child and opts for abortion. Now, pro-life advocates will interject here and say that she can always give her child up for adoption. There are more unwanted children out there who are in need of homes than there are homes willing to take them in. Regardless, this is where the Four Words come into play. Solution to this problem? Mind your own business. The only three people who have any stake in the outcome of this scenario are the mother, the father, and the doctor involved -- NOT the entire nation. Disagree with abortion? Heed the Four Words and find something else to focus on. End of debate.

2. Same sex union/marriage/coupling/etc. Same basic issue. One side deems it to be a moral sin and the other side could give a shit less. Ultimately, when you look at the core of this issue, what we are really arguing about is NOT the sanctity of marriage between a man and a woman, but what goes on in each other's bedrooms. Who cares? I don't care what you do, and I really don't want you to care what I do. Heterosexuals and homosexuals alike do some freaky shit in the bedroom, and I don't care about any of it. Neither should you. Heed the Four Words and it becomes a non-issue.

3. Iraq. Ooh, there I said the dirty word. How can Iraq possibly fit into this discussion? Easy. Let's first put some issues to rest. Was Saddam Hussein a bad man? Yes. Should he have been ousted? Yes. Should we have declared war on him in order to oust him? No, not at the time that we did it. With a nation still mourning over the loss of life on September 11, we should have completed what we started in Afghanistan before we brought our "War on Terror" to a nation that posed no immediate threat to us. That's all there is to it. Behind the facade of anti-terror, what we are really doing is spreading "freedom" and "democracy" across the planet. I fail to see how this is any different than the communists spreading communism everywhere and the good old U.S. of A. getting our panties all in a bunch over it. So, we get the bad guy in Afghanistan who masterminded the plot that caused thousands of lives to be lost on that fateful day in 2001, and we heed the Four Words. Mind your own business. Other nations do not need to conform to our culture, our government, and our way of life in order for us to stay safe. If anything, by NOT heeding the Four Words, we are stirring the pot and sending out a great big, engraved invitation to be attacked again.

These issues are merely examples and are by no means the end of how the Four Words can affect our nation in a positive manner. Think about any issue that comes to mind and then apply the Four Words. It's really easy. Our founding fathers ingeniously created a document that outlines all of the rights and restrictions for the happiness and well being of every citizen in this great nation. There's no reason why everyone should be sticking their noses in everyone else's business and trying to legislate what everyone ought to be doing. If that worked, we wouldn't have partisan politicians and we wouldn't be hated throughout the world. Besides, it's really hard to get mad at someone if they never poke their nose where it doesn't belong, right?

That Which Irritates Me

2005-03-01T10:26:00.000-08:00

I'm having hormone-related issues today, which is probably the biggest reason why I'm sharing this with you. Although the following truths hold themselves self-evident on a regular basis, they are of particular prominence today.

I hate stupid questions, and I'm tired of having them directed at me. Along those same lines, being on the telephone with people asking said stupid questions is beyond irritating.

Pulling out in front of me on the interstate is also very irritating. Where this happens to me most frequently is where you have the option on I-10 to drive forward or to turn off onto Causeway Blvd. Because the Causeway Blvd. lane moves faster, people stay in that lane and then merge in front of you whether you give them room to or not. I would like to know what kinds of jobs these people have -- the jobs must be really great to have these people act irresponsibly on the interstate so that they can hurry up and get to work. Maybe I should look into a job with them.

There are 2 very specific elevator behaviors that I find to be extremely irritating. One is pushing up or down button repeatedly. This does not make the elevator come any more quickly. As long as that light is lit, the elevator is on its way. That also goes for pressing floor buttons inside the elevator after they are already lit. The door will not close any faster, nor will you arrive at your desired floor any earlier than you would have otherwise. The second annoying elevator behavior is not allowing persons who are exiting the elevator on your floor to get out of the elevator before you try to get in. This is rude and really makes me want to hurt people. We already live in a "Me, gimme, mine" society, and I'm ready for people to stop and think about others from time to time. I don't like being stampeded while trying to get off on my floor.

Time-watchers. I'm totally over this one. These are the guys in your office who want to know where everyone is at any given time, and pass judgment upon what time you come in or leave. These guys check their watches any time you step away from your desk, try to make you work late just for the sake of working late, insist that you make up that 10 minutes that you left early yesterday, and invariably, they leave early every chance they get. I guess this is beyond irritating. More like infuriating.

Nasty public bathrooms irritate me. NO ONE wants to "go" in a nasty place, so why do people make disgusting messes and then leave them for others to share in the experience and for someone else to clean? I have been traumatized by this and typically will not use one unless it is a dire emergency.

That's the rant for today. Am going to pick up some medication on the way home so that the possibilty will exist that I not subject the rest of the world to my negativity tomorrow.

Monday

2005-02-28T06:33:00.000-08:00

This morning was one of those mornings when the sheets on the bed felt just right, and the contrast in temperature between the room and beneath the blanket was just perfect. My pillow was set just right, my cat was against my foot towards the bottom of my bed, and I absolutely did not want to get out of bed. Not to mention the fact that I didn't get enough sleep last night.

Good news is, my boss is out of the office for the next 3 days.

I Forgot....

2005-02-27T19:07:00.000-08:00

I'm downloading an MMORPG called Rose Online. I'm not really sure why, except that a coworker of mine played it for a few hours and said he couldn't deal with it because you start off killing jellybeans. This is not my idea of an excellent creature to kill, but my curiosity is roused and I must see for myself.

Any of you out there want to challenge yourselves to trying this with me? Download it here. It's a pretty big file, so my suggestion is to let it run overnight. The download and the game itself are both free.

Back to Our Regularly Scheduled Program

2005-02-27T18:54:00.000-08:00

The stupid PC user blogs are getting old, so I'm going back to my original format of just blogging whatever I feel like blogging at the time.

Tonight is the Oscars and I don't care. There are plenty of things I'd rather do, such as blogging, playing games from RealArcade, or Everquest2, though I'm kind-of not in the mood to do that this late.

Today I worked on the new website (URL will be posted once the site is up), and I did a lot of cooking. I missed the chance to talk to my brother because I was in an online meeting when he messaged me. Bummer. I did, however, spend plenty of time bonding with Pringles, my cat, since it has become a Sunday ritual for him.

I hate Sunday nights because Monday morning follows shortly thereafter, and I'm never in the mood for going back to work.

"Where Is That?"

2005-02-25T16:32:00.000-08:00

I had a particularly frazzled-sounding client call from her home today to tell me that she was having trouble connecting remotely to our network and needed my assistance. After several attempts to troubleshoot the issue, I asked her, at the recommendation of a coworker, to turn off her laptop, then her router.

"My router?" she asked.

"Yes," I replied.

"Where is that?"

Sigh. I have never been to this woman's house. There is absolutley no way I could possibly know where her router is. Furthermore, how do you answer a question like that without sounding like a smart-ass?

"I'm not sure," I replied. It's going to be somewhere in your house, probably not far from where the computer is set up. It's going to be a small, square box, and can be anywhere from the size of a kitchen sponge to approximately twice that size, depending on what brand you have."

"Ok," she said.

"Next, you'll need to turn off your DSL modem, " I told her, thinking that her response was indicative of her having found her router.

"Where is that?" she asked.

HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO KNOW WHERE YOUR MODEM IS??????????? IT'S YOUR HOUSE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I did all I could do and explained that her modem was probably next to her router. Sometimes IT makes me very tired.

The Bogus E-mail

2005-02-25T07:52:00.000-08:00

We came into the IT Department yesterday morning to a plethora of calls regarding an e-mail requesting information from the users. As a result, one of my coworkers decided to send out a mass mail to all in-house and remote users to let them know that they should disregard the e-mail. The following is a copy of the text of the e-mail he sent:

If you have received this e-mail:

From: (name withheld) [mailto:(address withheld)
Sent: Wednesday, February 23, 2005 6:29 PM
To: (address withheld)
Subject: identify me

Hi: I am checking to see if this address is still current or I have to delete it. Please confirm this is a valid address and whom I sent it to.

Do NOT respond to it. This is not a valid e-mail.

The guy who sent out this mass e-mail received the following response from one of our users:

"HEY, IT'S (name withheld)"

So much for reading comprehension.

Changing Passwords

2005-02-23T16:50:00.000-08:00

One afternoon, I went out to one of our remote locations to help one of our clients with a laptop issue. I gave her a loaner laptop and asked her to sign into it so that we could get everything set up for her. I asked her to log in, and she asked what password she should use, then proceeded to give me her password. I explained to her the importance of not divulging her password to anyone, including the IT staff, and that if others knew what her password was, she should immediately change it. I went through a long spiel about security, and I thought she was listening intently. What I didn't know was that she was changing her password as we spoke. But she didn't change her password in the computer -- she changed it in her head.

After my spiel, I asked her to sign in again, and she did, but got an error stating that her username or password was invalid. I asked her to try again, and she got the very same message.

"Did you use XYZ as your password?" I asked, knowing that just moments earlier she had indulged me with the secret term.

"No, " she said, "I changed it."

"You did?" I asked, a bit perplexed. She'd logged in successfully on the laptop I was taking back with me, but not on the new one. During the time that I'd been there, I had paid careful attention to everything that she did, but never once saw her change her password in the system.

"Yeah," she replied.

"When did you do that?" I asked, becoming more puzzled as the minutes ticked on.

"Just now," she replied.

"Just now?" I asked. "You logged in with XYZ as your password, then pressed Control Alt Delete, then clicked on Change Password and typed something new in?"

"No, " she said. "You have to do all that?"

Sigh.

"Yes, " I said, "otherwise, your password is still XYZ."

"Oh."

The frightening part of this story is that she is a Nurse Practitioner, just shy of being a doctor. Ponder the implications.

"How Do I Do That?"

2005-02-23T06:29:00.000-08:00

I had a user call in because she wanted to have her default mail font changed to a larger size. I went in and made the changes, not paying any attention to the fact that she had minimized mail screens at the botom of the screen. A few minutes later, she called back to let me know that the changes I had made were not effectual. Perplexed, I accessed her PC remotely to take a look and saw that she had not 1, not 10, but 42 grouped e-mails open at the bottom of her screen.

Sigh.

I explained to her that the reason why the changes weren't working for her was that the opened mails would still use the settings that were in place at the time the mails were opened. In order for the new settings to work, she'd need to close her mails and reopen them.

Her response?

"How do I do that?"

Sigh. It's not like she hasn't been using the same e-mail system in excess of 2 years, so it is absolutely beyond me how she has not learned how to close an e-mail.

"What Do I Do Now?"

2005-02-21T10:45:00.000-08:00

It was a particularly hectic day for me in the IT department. I had a server down, and I am usually the only support staff in the office for the first hour of the day. As our remote clients began to trickle in, I was receiving a large number of phone calls about the downed system in addition to trying to get said system up. What made this particular morning even more taxing was the fact that we had a new client coming in for software training, and I was the trainer du jour.

Exactly one hour and ten minutes prior to the training session, and in the middle of the ensuing chaos of having a system down, the receptionist called to let me know that our trainee was waiting up front for me. Because I couldn't just leave her in the receiption area, I greeted her, then brought her to the training room, assuming that she might surf the Internet until our session was to begin.

I returned to my desk and the continuing onslaught of irate clients, when not even five minutes later, my trainee approached my desk and said, "The computer is telling me that it is now safe to turn off my computer. What do I do?"

I explained that she could simply power off the machine, but she didn't know where the power button was. Never in my life, until that point, did I have to stop handling a flood of angry users to merely turn off a PC for a trainee who was an hour and ten minutes early. I have also never known anyone who just outright couldn't figure out which button was the power.

A Change

2005-02-21T09:12:00.000-08:00

I think that I am going to make a change to this blog in the realm of content. Because I find it difficult to come up with interesting things to blog about both here and on Dinner for Two, I am going to allow this site to be my outlet for work frustrations. In reading this, you might think that no one would care about what anyone else goes through in the workplace, but before you shrug it off, take a moment to consider this. I work with more than 200 computer users, ranging from the mechanically challenged to those who know just enough to get themselves into trouble, to those who are tremendously gifted in the technology field and have a bright future ahead of them.

Here, I will focus on the first two as, in hindsight, my experiences typically make for an amusing anecdote.

Name Generators

2005-02-09T18:25:00.000-08:00

I can't begin to convey how amazing it is that there are random name generators everywhere for seemingly everything under the sun. I am particularly perplexed by the fact that I go to them and generate my name. You can find a few of them here:

Smurf Name Generator:
http://www-personal.umich.edu/~mule/smurfgen.html

Star Wars Name Generator:
http://parris.josh.com.au/humour/StarWarsName.shtml

Elvish Name Generator:
http://www.chriswetherell.com/elf/

Hobbit Name Generator:
http://www.chriswetherell.com/hobbit/default.asp

Fantasy Name Generator:
http://rinkworks.com/namegen/

Pirate Name Generator:
http://gangstaname.com/pirate_name.php

Nerd Name Generator:
http://www.xach.com/nerd-name/

Pimp Name Generator:
http://www.playerappreciate.com/pimphandle.asp

There are many more out there. I invite you to take it upon yourself to generate as many names for yourself as you desire. It can come in particularly handy in the workplace - let everyone know you have changed your name, choose a generating tool to create a new one, don't tell anyone what your new name is, and answer nothing until someone figures out your new name.

An observation

2005-02-01T12:22:00.000-08:00

Most people who were kids in the '70s LOVED Scooby-Doo but very few liked Scrappy-Doo. What is it that made Hanna-Barbera think that a pint-sized hound with an annoying voice and a grating persona would actually entertain the youth of the day?

Most people I know will tell you that they knew Saturday morning cartoons were over with once they saw the beginning of Soul Train. I've known one person in my life that watched and enjoyed that show. Were there others?

When did Saturday morning cartoons end anyway? I think this is the root of all the violence in our society today. Bring them back, including Schoolhouse Rock! and the commercials with the guy singing about cheese and not drowning your food, and we'd all be safer.

First post

2005-01-09T20:02:00.000-08:00

This is my first post. I have to credit my brother for getting me interested in blogging in the first place, and this is an addition to the one that he and I share. Click here if you want to check it out.