Dell has announced that it's re-relocating its technical support for corporate customers from India back to the US. Chuck and Byron are all over it, as are their respective commenters.

I don't have anything to say about outsourcing at the moment, but I do have something to say about technical support, Dell and otherwise.

I hear a lot of complaints about Dell's technical support. I've heard complaints about the India branch's work and more people saying that it sucks over here, too. Some blame the corporations for going cheap on it and they're right. The blame lies not with the computer companies, but the end users.

To use the cliche, you get what you pay for.

I build my own desktops, but when it comes to laptops, I am a loyal IBM customer. Why? Because IBM takes care of me. My IBM customer service agent calls me every three months to make sure that my computer is still working okay. At one point, when I reported a problem with the mouse, they had a tech support person call me the next day with the solution in hand. I didn't know that customer service like that still existed. When I had to buy my last laptop, IBMs cost a couple hundred more than its Dell and Gateway counterpart, but it's worth it to me.

When pushed against a wall, most people disagree.

It used to be that the price difference between a company stock PC and a home-built one was huge, sometimes as much as 2-1. Over the years, stock PC prices have fallen considerably and today the difference in price is negligable. Not only that, but stock machines today are better computers with better parts (even adjusted for Moore's Law). I still build my own because I like the flexibility of interchangable parts, but others would rather have the convenience of a restore CD.

Regardless, the money saved to consumers had to come from somewhere and can anyone be surprised it came from something intangible like customer support? Packard Bell and Compaq tried to skimp on parts and they were called on it: Packard Bell is out of business and Compaq was consumed by higher grade Hewlett Packard. Customer service, on the other hand, seems to be negligable.

On top of that, trying to fix a computer over the phone is like trying to fix a car on the phone. To say the least, it's not the ideal venue. No matter how skilled the person on the other side of the line is, they're not there to look at the machine and things it would take then two minutes to check out themselves it takes ten to do over the phone. It's frustrating for both involved and believe me I've heard as many complaints about tech support callers as I have agents. With costs being cut to make the PC cheaper (since prices are all that's important to a lot of consumers), even the best technician has to read from the same automated system, dumbed down to the dumbest tech support person there.

If you want good customer service, you're going to have to pay for it. I've been more than pleased with IBM's service, but there are other options available. Gateway has a Gold Service Plan where all you have to do is take the computer in and they'll repair it for you with a pretty fast turnaround. Easy, simple, and expensive.

Or you can do what I do: build your own. It's cheap, but when there's a problem you know better how to fix it because you're dealing with parts that you bought and installed. This only works if you know what you're doing, but in my (biased) view even if you're not a professional, the more you know about computers the less frustrated and expensive maintenance will be.

If you're not willing to learn more about computers and you're not willing to pay higher prices for someone who knows more (and/or can communicate it effectively), I lack sympathy.

In Idaho, a medical resident thinks to herself "Wow, it feels really nice and warm out."

Sure enough, she discovers the temperature gauge has nearly hit forty degrees.

In Texas, a professional computer nerd thinks to himself "Wow, it feels really nice and cold out."

Sure enough, he discovers that the temperature has actually fallen below sixty degrees.

My name is Missy. I'm a ten year-old purebread Collie who's staying with the Whitlock family for a while.

They're nice people and all, but sometimes they get on my nerves. Take for instance today during the UT-A&M football game. Now, I was raised by an Aggie family and would bleed maroon if I ever let myself get down and dirty enough to get a cut. Oh, and I look like the Aggies' mascot.

The Whitlock family is a Longhorn family. Uncles Ray and David went to UT and uncle Ray owns season tickets. Watching the game was hard enough, but enduring their hooting and hollering was more than my delicate constitution could bare. I hid in the other room when it started to get bad.

When Uncle Ray played his Eyes of Texas CD after the game, it was more than I could bear. I started to bark and howl as loudly as I could. Since I couldn't share the many reasons why Texas A&M is the superior university with the cutest mascot in the world, it was all I could do.

They started laughing at me! Uncle Alex commented how interesting it was that an Aggie dog would howl at the Longhorn anthem. Well duh!!!!! What did he expect me to do?! They all found it very funny.

But they're wrong.

There's nothing funny about a 46-15 Longhorn victory.

Harrumph. I'm going to go pout now. Or see if I can beg off some dinner from their plates. Whichever.

[Ed. note: Theme blatantly ripped off of Sugarmama]

Dear Those UT Alumni That Said The UT-A&M Game Was an Automatic Win,

I just heard about you idiots on TV.

Regardless of who is the underdog, it's never automatically in the win column.

Sincerely,
Non-UT Alum And Author of the Blog You Do Not Read

It's a fifth leg, actually. From Warliberal comes this interesting article about a dog born with an extra leg.

The Maltese-and-terrier mix named Popcorn created quite a stir in the local dog-lover community when she was found near Umstead State Park, northwest of Raleigh. Experts said it was unheard of for such an animal to live long past birth.

Popcorn is believed to be between 9 months and a year old.

The extra, or supernumerary, leg was removed because it was hampering the dog's movement. The more fully developed leg was also removed because it was rotated at a 90-degree angle, rendering it useless as well.

Looks like the dog is going to be alright. Great!

There's something seriously wrong with this town when Mom and I are wiping sweat off our brow during our T-Day meal.

Dear Lord,

Remember that incident in March of 1999? Of course it's in Your database somewhere, but I figure there are a lot of records in there, so I'll just go ahead and remind You. I was driving down I45 when out of nowhere the pickup in front of me changed lanes at the last possible second to avoid an HL&P service van that had stopped right in the middle of the freeway. Luckily (or by Your grace, whichever), there weren't any cars around me so I was able to swerve much as the pickup had.

Remember how I wasn't wearing a seatbelt?

I was on top of the world. Thoughts of law school were just entering my mind. My relationship with Anna was at its height. I was 6'5" and weighed under two-hundred pounds. I'd never picked up a cigarette. If I had died then, I would have died on top of the world.

Things have changed a lot since then. They've become a lot more difficult. I'm never going to be a lawyer and make a million dollars. I broke Anna's heart and then Elciem came along and broke mine. I'm twenty-five, unemployed, living with my parents, and in a state of elongated flux. I hate flux.

The long and short of it is that life hasn't been easy. Then again, that's all part of the grand design. In fact, those that have been born into wealth and influence are often the most unhappy of all. I'm just as guilty of this. I was born into the middle class. My college was paid for by two parents that didn't get a free ride. I was born in a state that claims me as its own no matter where I go, raised in a state that doesn't care that I wasn't born here, and a resident of the most prosperous nation in the history of the world.

More than that, I have a family that loves me. I have better friends than I could ever ask for or deserve. I'd like to think that I've become stronger and wiser in the adversity I've faced, however small it is in the greater scheme of things.

Naturally, there have been times where I've been unhappy; When I scream, cry, and am too red to do much of anything at all... when I'm heartbroken, sad, hurt, angry, and hopeless...

life is still good.

Thank You,

Author of the Blog That You Probably Need Not Read

The Detroit Lions are playing Green Bay on the tube. Last I checked, they were pulling off an upset.

It took me a bit to realize that it was, in fact, the Lions playing. I thought it was yet another retro day (Green Bay's mask is silver instead of modern-day green). Turns out that the Lions have a tradition of wearing a unique uniform for Turkey Day. Not a throwback as the helmet was never worn regularly (though they had a similar one from 1952-60), just an alternate alternate uniform.

Between the Texans special red uniform, throwback week a half dozen games a year, and things like this, one gets the feeling that some day they're just going to be done with it and wear a different uniform each game.

Oh well, at least it's better than baseball.

Kevin links to a disturbing article about some sore loseritis at Texas Christian University.

TCU was unable to land a spot in the Bowl Championship Series. Now it appears the Horned Frogs may turn down the next best thing.

The school is planning to decline an expected invitation to the GMAC Bowl because of academic considerations, athletic director Eric Hyman told The Washington Post on Wednesday night.

TCU had its sights sets on a BCS bowl, but those hopes were dashed by a loss to Southern Miss on Nov. 20. As a result, the Horned Frogs will likely finish second in Conference USA and earn an invitation to the GMAC.

However, Hyman says the school will likely decline the bowl bid because the game falls in the middle of their exam period (Dec. 18). The bowl could have pitted a pair of impressive mid-majors (TCU and Miami-Ohio) against each other.

Something tells me that if a BCS game fell that weekend or the Kiwi Fruit Bowl or something, they'd not be declining the invitation. I do feel some sympathy for a team that was aiming for the stars and hit the front lawn, and the timing of the game isn't incredibly desirable, but give me a break.

Kevin hits the nail on the head:

Let me translate that: Since we didn't take care of business and beat Southern Miss, we're going to act like a bunch of crybabies, and angle for a bowl we really like (Hawaii Bowl) instead of the bowl we agreed to go if we finished in second place in our conference.

The C-USA commissioner should make it clear to these whiners that if they screw the conference on this deal, they won't be representing C-USA in any bowls, ever. He won't, of course, because he's scared TCU will bolt to the Mountain West. But if this is the sort of conference member they're gonna be, I'll take Louisiana Tech, thank you very much.

I wonder if this might be a signal that they would have sat out the bowl season if they'd not been invited to a BCS. When they lost to Southern Miss and lost any claim to a BCS-bowl, their plans were obviously thrown off.

Oh well, at least if they won't embarass the C*USA and pull a West Virginia.

I definitely want TCU to stay in the C*USA, but they're making me bite my cheek with this one. The C*USA is blessed (though probably not for long) with five bowl alliances. It's one of the draws to our conference, provided that you don't think you're just too darn good for any of out piddly bowl games.

Maybe the Mountain West bowls are better (I honestly don't know), but this demonstrates a lack of commitment that must be grabbing the MWC's attention. If they switch to the MWC, they're going to be sacrificing a lot of "study time" on plane trips two time-zones away.

Maybe the good news is that this means they're not going to make that jump.

I guess that's good news.

This site has great stats on weather in towns all across the country, large and small.

I swear that I didn't intend for this to be an ongoing feature and I swear that when it stops being interesting, I'll move on to something else, but it doesn't appear that it's going to stop being interesting any time soon.

More observations:

Tense muscles are nothing new to me. What is unusual is when they get so bad that I have to do kalesthenics... several times a day. That's what I'm doing every chance I get so far. Kinda weird. Weirder still, I felt perfectly fine until I pulled on to the road where Gattaca is. Out of nowhere, while driving, my entire body tensed up.

My job largey consists of checking, double-checking, re-checking, and double re-checking the same data over and over again. It's the perfect position for someone with Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder. As such, I've named my department OCD (short for Operations Coordination Department).

Apparently, now that I've finished the first ten quizzes on the corporate bureaucracy, there are another 528 waiting for. They range from Bank of the Northern Hemisphere ATM Service & Warranty to Understanding Fin, Frm, Spc Keeper Features to Advanced Features to Flagging Labor to an ATM Repair Order.

I was relieved when I found out that I wasn't expected to take all those tests.

On days before a holiday, it's casual day. That meant that I got to take off my tie. Ooooh. Ahhhh.

Some dude has the same name as a character in one of my novels. It's not a very common name. I got it from a dream. Weird stuff.

Being a lowly OCD techie, I don't have my own phone line, of course, but "my" phone (I call it "my phone" despite the fact that I don't have any designated work area) rings with the rest and when no one is there, I'm supposed to answer it.

I'm afraid to answer the phone. Not because I can't handle people or the phone, but because I'm afraid I'm going to slip up. As a precautionary measure, I've decided to start going by my first name professionally. It's the only safeguard I have against a potential employer googling me. I respond to Rayford, but when I introduce myself, I tend to introduce myself by my more oft-used middle name. When I answer the phone, I go on to autopilot. Once when I was at my ex-girlfriend's house after having answered phones all day at work, I answered her telephone "Thank you for calling the McLoed House, this is Alex speaking, how may I help you?" I'm doomed.

I've discovered that in the advent of a fire alarm going off, the OCD is expected not to leave. We have a meeting area where, in the midst of smoke and fire, we are to devise a plan for saving as much data as possible.

These people are crazy.

I read the entire employee handbook today. It's the scariest document I've read in a long time. I kid you not, it reads like a jilted teenage lover swearing off romance forever. "Our feelings have been hurt by employees before, so we'll not give you the freedom to ever hurt us ever again."

Program 5515 is the program that monitors where we are. I type in someone's name, I immediately know where they are and where they're going.

The handbook actually addresses the entire "big brother" issue, saying essentially that those who have a problem with the company knowing where they are at all times with the touch of a button are lazy at best, trouble-makers at worst.

There is an entire page dedicated to "rotten apples" and how they spoil an entire barrel. It says under no uncertain terms that anyone with what they deem an "attitude problem" will be terminated.

They've been hurt in love before... I mean, they've had employees screw up their barrel.

Personal items in your workspace are heavily regulated. However, big gaudy trophies for various Gattaca Extra-curricular activities are everywhere.

Speaking of the term extra-curricular activities, a phrase usually associated with schools, they call their facilities a "campus."... given the meal cards and their desire for people not to leave during lunch, it feels a lot more like a high school campus than a college one.

I'm not saying that my new job is boring, but I read the entire handbook manual and department manual today.

I'm not saying that my new job is boring, but I read 600 department memos dating back eighteen months.

Twice.

I'm not saying that my new job is boring, but during lunch I noticed that after taking off my tie, I hadn't buttoned the collar buttons. I debated internally whether I should button them during lunch or wait until my shift started again so that I might have something to do.

I spent ten minutes asking myself whether or not I should button my durn collar.

I eventually decided that I would wait until my shift started so that I could scrape off fifteen seconds of work time with actually having something to do.

But I was still pissed at myself. The whole question could have been asked while I was on shift, thus giving me something to do for a whole ten minutes.

I'm not saying that my new job is boring, but I pondered the curious way the english language spells the word maintenance... why is it maintenance and not maintanence?

I pondered it for twenty minutes.

I'm not saying that my new job is boring, but for the last half hour of the shift, you have nothing to do because the next shift has already replaced you. All you can do is stand there and watch the clock. Second. After. Second.

I'm not saying that my new job is boring, but at UFC I often ducked my boss who would tack on assignments at the last minute that I didn't have time for. At Gattaca, I offered to walk across the building to find someone. I knew I was going to get lost. I was hoping for it.

Of course, Program 5515 would find me anyhow.

My desire to get lost could be proof that I'm lazy like the handbook suggests. They accuse naysayers of 5515 of wanting to get "lost" in a big organization to avoid work. Me? I wanted to get lost cause it would give me something to do.

I'm not saying that my new job is boring, but I scored a 93.3% on the Advanced Features to Flagging Labor to an ATM Repair Order test.

Note: I've changed Gattaca's mission from its real one to ATM machines. I'm not going to divulge much about the company itself, though if you're dying to know you can email me.

Note: My first name is not Rayford. I am sorta giving myself a pseudonym. I'll explain myself later.

Note: Everything else is pretty true. Including the 93.3.

When I interviewed for this job, I interviewed with four people. First it was an HR person, then some IT head, followed by the VP of IT, and ended with an independent consultant.

Yet, oddly, I never interviewed with the man that is now my boss. It was like interviewing with a fifth person, except that I am guaranteed the job.

"So tell me Mr. Whitlock, why aren't you with your former employer anymore?"

Gah!

I also took a number of tests to get this position. First it was a standard IQ test. Then I had to take a mental acuity, current events, mechanical aptitude, and personality profiling test all rolled in to one. Then, of course, was the drug test.

Since I've started, all I've been doing is taking more tests. As I read about the company's bureaucracy, I have to take quizzes on what all I've learned. If I fail them, I have to read it again before I get another crack at it. I've literally spent two days reading procedure after procedure (TPS report after TPS report) studying this company's bureaucracy. Two days and I'm still not done yet.

I've memorized my passcard number by now. It's a good thing because I have to punch in my code for everywhere that I go, plus an additional two numbers to indicate where I'm headed. You type in a six digit number 30 times a day, you memorize it pretty quickly.

I also found out today that I'm only four promotions away from scoring a position as a junior technician. Woohoo!

They like lists at Gattaca. For instance, they make a list of the people that take the most incoming (and make the most outgoing) personal phone calls and post the list for all the world to see to encourage you not to make phone calls unnecessarily by humiliating you if you do.

My "Let's all welcome the new employee!" picture is the worst I've ever seen of me. I look like I weigh 400 pounds, I'm slouching, and my tie is way crooked.

While some companies strongly discouraging dating in the work place, they take a different tactic. They want you to cut off all communication with former employees. If the employee happens to work for a client, you are instructed to deny them any of the help their employer pays for. They have a list of the meanies that left to work for a client posted everywhere and they inform you that helping these people do their job will get you fired.

Today I read a fifteen page document on the history of the company (and of the many companies that they've picked up along the years). I'd tell you about it, but I fear if I do they will have me killed.

These people are crazy.

Four months... four months...

Mom was doing her Turkey Day price-checking and commented that a lot of the best deals on turkey came with unwanted side dishes. "Unwanted side dishes?" We asked. Surely one of us will eat most any dish that comes our way.

"Green Bean Cassarole," she said.

"What cassarole?!" we replied.

We'd never heard of it. Dead serious.

"Well, I've never made it because I know you guys wouldn't like it."

"We appreciate it," we replied, "but there is such a thing as 'green bean cassarole'? In the name of all holy, tell us it is not so."

"Well, you've never eaten it because I don't make it for you."

"We understand, but not only have we never eaten it, we did not know it existed! Not only would we never have eaten it, we would not have imagined it in our worst nightmares."

"My, my, I've kept you sheltered," she lamented.

"We love you."

Since this happened a month back, green bean cassarole has been everywhere. Campbell's is actually selling it. As if it were a good thing! As if it were something somebody might want!

I could understand if it were some sort of New Years tradition. After all, most of us get plastered on New Years and we already down cabbage and black-eyed peas that we'd avoid the rest of the year, but T-day is supposed to be the day of (giving Thanks and) good food.

Good food and any cassarole including green beans are mutually exclusive.

Mom has a consultation this Friday. No tests, I think it's just going to be to decide what tests to run.

Things in the Whitlock house are slowly returning to normal. My brother and my brand-spankin'-new sister in law have spent the last couple of days over, mostly watching football and doing their laundry. Dave moved back to Houston this past week. He's coming as I'm going. I'm tempted to feel gypped, but I'm glad that at least one of us is going to be down here. Plus, I get three more months or so of hanging out with them before I do head on out.

The move-out date has been changed to next week, so I'm commuting 2-3 hours a day this week. Hiatus is over, but posting will remain sporadic until I'm up there most likely.

I was looking up information on college name changes for a future post when I ran across the Handbook of Texas Online. It's a great source for anything related to Texas. It has universities, people, and about every town imaginable (including my father's tiny town of Enloe, population 113).

The search function is mad-wack. Type in Texas A&M and Texas A&M will appear on page four million and certain queries (without any special characters) will turn in errors. Beyond that, it's an invaluable resource that I'll be taking advantage of a lot in the future.

University of Houston
University of Texas
Texas A&M
Texas Tech
Texas State
Texas Southern
UTEP
North Texas
Sam Houston State

Stephen F. Austin State
University of Texas at Arlington

Baylor University
Texas Christian University (TCU)
Southern Methodist University (SMU)
Rice University

Southwest Conference


Houston
Austin
Dallas
San Antonio
El Paso


Republic of Texas
Sam Houston (General, President, 1836-39, 42-45)
Stephen F. Austin (statesman)
Mirabeau Lamar (War hero, President, 1839-41)
Anson Jones (President, 1842-45)
David Burnet (Interim President, 1836)
Edward Burleson (War hero, vice president)

The University of Houston Cougars have been pretty much blacked out of television around here. Their contract with channel 55 lapsed and oddly no one picked it up. Even Rice has a local contract, but not our Cougs. I've groaned this before, but it's a rather irritating thing when Rice (2-7 at the time) and SMU (0-10 at the time) are on TV and UH (5-4 at the time) aren't.

But I digress. Or I did digress until this weekend. They were blacked out again as Rice was televised playing UTEP (1-9 or so). I was willing to forgive it because Saturday afternoons are a competitive college football market. Except that Saturday was a half-day and there weren't a whole lot of good games on. Yet instead of the Cougars (in a large media market) and Louisville (a team once ranked), I got to see... I-AA Stephen F. Austin vs. Northwestern State.

That just hurts.

My first day at Gattaca:

The traffic from Seabrook to Jersey Village was surprisingly not very bad. I got up early enough that I missed the morning traffic and since I get out at 4:15, I missed most of it on the way back, too.

You wouldn't think that such fuddy duddy employers would have a workforce predominately in its twenties. I suppose they are largely in the same position as myself: Young and desperate.

IT rooms are funny things. Nova, my employer during college, had it practically in the basement. They eventually moved it up to the third floor, equally out of the way. Part of me resented that they kept us hidden, but UFC showed me the error in that thinking. My office at UFC was more prominant... so prominant that I couldn't have a workbench because it was "unsightly." Well, Gattaca takes it a step further. The IT room is surrounded by windows and lit up as if it were on display. I'm told this wasn't an accident. I glibly called it the Fishbowl, but was informed that it was already the place's nickname.

I got a college degree for this?! This job is a whole lot like my old $8/hr job a couple employers back. It's busier, but it's something I easily could have done a couple of years ago. They start most non-programming IT people out at this position, but still! Luckily, this job pays a lot more than $8/hr.

There were a few jokes about how UFC, my former employer, was Office Spacesque. UFC has nothing on this place. I swear I almost mistakenly said TPS Reports about six times. This place was Initech, except a lot larger and with a lot less leeway.

Say what I will about the place, the take care of their programmers. They get the solitude of an office so that they can do what they needed to do. Since I my database programing was constantly interrupted by people walking through, I can definitely see the wisdom in that. I'm glad that they do, too.

I love the cold weather. I do not love driving in the cold weather at 6:30 in the morning in a car without heating, however.

They have a cafeteria from which we are expected to eat lunch. Our lunch breaks are 30 minutes long, so there isn't time to go out. Biggest. Burritos. Ever. Well, next to the Jaliscience. But it's close. Good price, too. Unfortunately, when I get on night shift, they won't be open. It's a bit dangerous though because they don't deal in cash. It comes straight out of your paycheck. That's dangerous for the same reason college mealcards are dangerous and how I managed to spend $650 in ten weeks at UH. Fortunately, when I get on night shift, they won't be open.

I get Thursday and Friday nights off! Woohoo!

I get five, count'em five, polo shirts out of the deal. Navy blue polo shirts. I like navy blue polo shirts.

Gattaca is everything I thought it would be. More.

It's only four months... it's only four months... it's only four months...

For personal reasons, I'm taking some time off. Since I never take as long off as I think I will, check in Monday evening or Tuesday and if I'm taking longer than a few days, I'll let y'all know.

Flannery O'Connor wrote your book.
Not much escapes your notice.


Which Author's Fiction are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

Brought to me by Owen.

My first reaction to the test results were probably an overreaction. Mom had been joking about how sure she was that she had cancer, but it was as clear a defense mechanism as any. Waiting is always the hardest part and possibly the worst part of the response is that we have to wait all that much longer, except this time with more justifiable fears.

Our reactions were all pretty different. Mom called everyone she knew that might have some advice for doctors. She said "I tooooold y'all I had cancer!!" a few times. Outwardly, she took it exceedingly well. Of course, so did I outwardly until I had to utter the words on the phone. My response was a fifteen minute delayed reaction followed by running to get on the Internet and look up "adrenal gland" and "cancer." Dad's response was to look up on the Internet, too, though he more optomistically typed in "adrenal gland" and "disorder," though Google's ads put the words "cancer treatment" everywhere.

Most of what I found is pretty positive. As positive as one can be while googling with the word "cancer."

The first bit of good news is that the worst part of the cancer (comparitively speaking, of course) is that the symptoms generally show up late. Since there aren't any symptoms, it means that if there is anything we've already dodged one of the pitfalls of it: awareness.

The second bit is that Mom doesn't fit the profile. It tends to occur in younger adults.

The third bit is that there are a lot of non-malignant growths there as well, so there's a very good chance that this falls into that category. There's a solid chance that it is malignant, but until we know more, I'll take the half-full glass, thanks.

The wildcard is that if she does have it, where she has it makes a great deal of difference. If it's in the medulla (inside) then there's a 95% survival rate in the first five years. If it's on the cortex (outside) then the rate is 10-35%, presumably because it's in a better position to spread.

What exactly it is and where it is remains pretty unknown, but there is still much cause to hope for the best.

To say 'I love You' You must first know how to say the 'I'," -Ayn Rand

In retrospect, one of the more interesting aspects of my dealings with Elciem was how much in her I could see that she couldn't. Her recent letter involved a lot of admissions in regards to things that I could see at the time (and warned her about) that she completely ignored.

I told her that she wasn't acting like someone who really wanted to be happy; I said that nothing was going to change in her life until she did; I told her that she was using superficial rationales in order to avoid confronting aspects of her life. I told her all of these things and she now sees that they were right. Now, I was probably the worst messenger for all of this, but she can't say that thought hadn't crossed her mind because I was waving it like an American flag on July Fourth as I stood right in front of her... and as I was left.

I wondered how she could be so dim to miss what I so clearly saw. She isn't dumb by any stretch of the imagination. She ought to have known herself better than I did, having only really known her a year. Yet she didn't and screaming until I was hoarse didn't change that.

Though I didn't know her as long as she had known herself (obviously), I could still see it all more clearly because I was looking straight at her. I was watching what she did, looking at patterns, and evaluating her more closely than I probably have anyone else in my entire life. I could see these things because I could see every inch of her. I was on the outside looking in.

She, on the other hand, was on the inside looking in. Or maybe on the inside looking out. While I could see all of her, she was blind to certain parts in the same way we can't see our lower back without mirrors. She was too involved with herself to evaluate herself. She was twisted with questions she could never ask because she couldn't bear to hear the answers.

Me too.

One of the interesting aspects of looking back at that time in my life was that I was just as blind. I could see her clearly, but I couldn't see myself clearly. If I had, I would have left a lot sooner, or I never would have left, or I would have done something other than what I did, which was the best I could do at the time with all the available information I had but without the blindspots I can now see two years later with 360 degree hindsight.

I was on the inside looking in, too. There were things that I couldn't admit and realities that I didn't want to face. My problems were on the whole less severe than hers - or maybe they were just more subdued and that's why it took me longer to gain the perspective I needed to realize that while she was sabotaging what we had, I was an entirely seperate stick of dynamite.

When it was over, I blamed her for things not working out. I had felt that we were perfect for one another and if she would just get her act together, things could have worked. She blamed it on the stars. Maybe we were right for one another but everything just seemed so wrong for us.

Looking back, I think she was more right than I was. Everything was wrong and no matter how much things should have worked, they didn't and they were never going to. We needed in each other what we didn't have.

"We're not that alike, really," she pondered on the evening of the collapse.

"We're alike in more ways that I wish we were," I replied.

With nothing left inside us at that point, we were two people that understood each other but not ourselves. In that way, I was right. We were like.

The Houston Livestock Show & Rodeo has released their schedule for the 2004 year. They're still on their quest to dehickify the event with a diverse set of artists, many of whom have little or no relation to country music or Texas. Going to the rodeo to see Jessica Simpson or John Mayer would strike me as nothing less than bizarre. Don't get me wrong, if Counting Crows were to make an appearence I'd still go if I could to see the artist, but bullriders on one minute and Adam Duritz the next would send my system in to whiplash (and Duritz has more connections to country music than do some of the others listed).

I have my complaints about the country musicians invited, of course. I'm sure Kevin is going to pre-order tickets for Kenny Chesney's appearence on the 17th. However, even Chesney and Alan Jackson are likely to bring in the people who, you know, might like to watch barrell racing or some other event. One would think that they'd use artists that people in Humble and Baytown are familiar with to bring them in to town. If there's not enough people in Houston (4.5 million in the area) to support a rodeo then why continue the charade? Why not call it "March Music Diversity Concert Season" and ditch the bullriding entirely? Were ticket sales so bad when the rodeo was country that they really have to resort to this?

My guess is not. My guess is that the HLS&R board are more taken with themselves than the show they purport to represent. They want to be a part of something grand and glorious so that they can have a big giant plaque on their wall that says they were on the Rodeo board and can assure people who notice the plaque that it ain't all hicksville while they pride themselves on soluting their Texan heritage as they move the Rodeo as far away from Texas as they can in every way except geography.

Oh well, at least they don't have any boy bands this year.

I'm in the process of considering possible redesigns, restructures, and different ideas for the blog and I have some questions. Since you are the ones that come in day in and day out and read my stuff, I'd like to know what you see and what you think. If you could all just take the time to answer the questions in the observations or in email, I'd greatly appreciate it:

1. My browser is:
a) Internet Explorer
b) Netscape 6.0 or above
c) Mozilla
d) Opera
e) Netscape 4.x
f) an abacus
g) Other

2. The item titles on the blog appear:
a) Thin
b) Basic non-serif font
c) Basic serif font
d) Basic, but what the heck is a "serif"?

3. The italicized item author on the blog appears:
a) Smooth
b) Jaggedy

4. In the last month, text has bled in to a picture and has been a pain to read
a) True
b) False
c) It doesn't matter because I come here for the pretty pictures anyway

5. In regards to the front page, I would rather
a) Have more items even if it takes longer to load up because I frequently have to go to the archives to see recent posts.
b) Keep the front page lean, mean, and small because I visit frequently enough that I don't miss posts and would rather it load up quickly.
c) Why should I care? I'm only here because I go to Texas Tech and wanted to find out more about the Ten Percent Rule.

6. I have actually tried to use RAWbservation's poor excuse for categories to skim through the archives:
a) True
b) False
c) Oh please, it's painful enough to read what you're writing today. Why would I, or anyone, want to see what you've written before?!

7. I have trouble sometimes telling bolded text from a hyperlink because of the way my browser displays the information.
a) True
b) False

8. I come here mainly:
a) For political posts
b) For personal posts
c) For variety
d) For philosophical posts
e) For Texas country music opinions/news
f) Because I know you offline and want to keep up with what's going on with you.
g) For melodrama
h) Because I'm Lisa and I'm stalking you
i) To cure insomnia

9. When you're writing a series of posts (Intersections, Happenstance, Eighth Step, etc.), I:
a) Enjoy them
b) Skip over them because they're too long

10. This blog:
a) Remembers my name and URL when I try to comment.
b) Does not remember my name and URL when I try to comment

11. Nucleus has a feature where you can pick a month and view all of the posts in a category during that month. Unfortunately, it only shows the most recent posts and there is not (at least I don't think there is) a "next page" feature, so special features (such as Letters To or Cooking Show) older than the most recent 10 posts or so have to be found by scanning the entire month archives. This means that utilizing the category/month option would mean that irregular special features (Letters To, etc.) would be impractical and they would have to be folded in to broader categories (Current events, Life, Relationships, Funnies, etc.). I would rather
a) Have broad categories even if it means that there isn't a single place to look up special features or
b) Keep the special features where they are, don't implement any category/month option, and figure out something else.
c) Oh please, it's painful enough to read what you're writing today. Why would I, or anyone, want to see what you've written before?!


Optional essay questions:

1. I'd like to know what your opinion is on ________.
2. I'd like you to post more thoughts on ________.
3. I'd like you to stop posting on _______.
4. I wish you'd change _______ on the blog's design.
5. I really like ________ about the blog's design.

I'm not sure if I should be rooting for TCU this year. On one hand, they're a Texas school and a Conference USA school and I typically root for teams of both stripes. It makes the C*USA look good and we'll be needed that when the TV and bowl packages are renewed after the big reallignment. Losing Louisville and South Florida (not to mention top notch basketball programs) we probably won't get as sweet a deal as we have now even with the addition of Marshall, but the more the better, in my view.

On the other hand, TCU has been talking about ditching the C*USA in favor of the Mountain West Conference, the most competitive non-BCS conference (C*USA is second in my estimation). The better that TCU does, the more likely they'll believe themselves to be too good for the C*USA and want to trade up. I think it would be bad for TCU, but it would also be bad for the C*USA.

For one thing we'd be stuck with perpetual losers SMU. I was mildly in favor of bringing SMU (and Rice) to the conference because of old Southwest Conference ties and their rivalry with TCU (which I suspect played a pretty heavy hand in the conference's mind before bringing them in). If we're not going to have TCU, I don't want to mess with SMU and would rather have Louisiana Tech or North Texas or some school that can at least win somewhere against somebody. I'd most like to bring Baylor on in, but they seem to have gleefully traded away the frivolous desire to win every now-and-again in favor of the money that comes with being in a BCS conference.

The bigger issue is Conference viability. We're presently (again, in my estimation, Kevin can correct me if I'm wrong) the second most competitive non-BCS conference and will likely remain so, but when it comes to bowl games and so on, whether we're closer to the WAC or the MWC makes a great deal of difference. Bringing in Rice and SMU hurt (though bringing in Marshall helped) and having to bring in Louisiana Tech or North Texas to replace the TCU would hurt even more.

If TCU ends up undefeated and doesn't get invited to a bowl game, they'd (not unjustifiably) partially blame that on their conference alliance and think that MWC would make it less likely to happen the next time around (which may or may not be right). They'd possibly even be willing to spend hundreds of thousands of dollars and thousands of spectators in order to correct that percieved problem.

However, if they were to lose to Southern Miss, it would bring them back down with the rest of us and hopefully they'd take a more sober look at the situation instead of making one based on the drunken bliss of being undefeated. TCU has a good program and will, year in and year out, be among the best in the conference. On the other hand, they won't always have seasons like this (and if they did the Big 12 would probably find a way to bring them in).

On the last hand, if they do go undefeated and get into a BCS game, it will open up an extra slot for the University of Houston this bowl cycle to get into one of the C*USA's five bowl games.

Decisions, decisions...

It appears as though some Texas Tech professor has assigned a major project on the Ten Percent Rule. I know this because I get probably two or three hits a day from Texas Tech people who googled "Ten Percent Rule" and are referred to my post on the matter. That or I have some stalker out there from Texas Tech that wants to read my post two or three times a day. Somehow I doubt that.

The doctor called back about Mom's tests.

There's an abnormality. The doctor wouldn't say much of anything else and dodged the question on whether or not it's cancerous. He said that she needed to consult a surgeon. The surgeon that the doctor recommended said that she needed to call the original doctor to get a number at MD Anderson. Mom got the number and called, but no one answered.

Even if I weren't on a 14.4 modem, the Internet cannot possibly move fast enough for me to get all the information I'm looking for.

I like Fox News. Not necessarily for its political biases (I don't typically watch their "personalities" and prefer Keith Olbermann to Bill O'Reilly) but rather because it makes the news punchier. If I want dry reporting, I won't go to television to find it.

I'd like them a lot better if they could take a joke. Between this and the threatened lawsuit against Al Franken, they strike me as someone that can dish it out but can't take it.

Update: Boy being stuck on this modem is killing me by being out of the loop. Apparently Groening was joking and the AP (and I and Dean Esmay) didn't get the joke. Thanks to Mike for the tip.

James Wright writes some of his thoughts on the responsibilities of being an IT person:

My issue isn't with reclusive, stubborn or even fed up IT people. Not at all. It's with an attitude prevalent within IT that certain rights are ours by the very nature that we are IT guys. Years of cultivating a geek image have left the industry with a one-hand two-hand image. On the one hand are the backoffice guys who have no social skills (apparently) and no desire to interact with real people. On the other are the managers who, while they properly represent IT to the masses, actually have no idea what's going on.

Apparently there is no in-between. So, if you get a 'manager' 'in the pits' you'd better promote him. If you get a 'geek' in management you'd just better learn to live with it. Which is kind of what Stu is having to do: be a bit of a buffer. Not a lot, but a bit.

All of those excuses would work perfectly if he wasn't in management. If he wasn't in charge of IT. If he wasn't, in fact, the forward-facing face and persona for IT for a multi-million dollar company.

But he is.

It discusses both the responsibilities of being in IT as well as the nature of being the solo technician (which I was at my previous position). I agree with him.

In fact, coming out of college I thought that one of my strengths was going to be the way my IT skills combine with interpersonal skills. Those of you that know me in person would agree that I'm not the most charismatic person around, but after talking to me for an hour you wouldn't necessarily guess that I work in IT at all if I didn't mention it. In addition to that, I've always been better at business relationships than personal ones because the parameters set (okay, so I use the words "parameters" and that might be a giveaway).

Like James, I think that it's important that the IT person make others feel at ease. There is a classic series of skits on SNL with the ugliest, snottiest IT guy on the planet. Funny stuff in part because it hits close to home. At the last job I worked I was dealing with an office of people that didn't know a whole lot about computers. It would have been easy to correct every misconception that they had and to try to spend my times making them IT competent, but IT competence for an IT guy is vastly different for an end-user and so when they said something that was probably incorrect ("Word keeps asking me about the normal.dot, I think my Java's broken!"), I'd correct the problem ("let's replace the normal.dot file"), detailed explanations that they'd obviously never use ("Java was founded by Sun in blah blah blah blah and is primarily a web-based blah blah blah") until they needed such information. A standoffish IT person is one that isn't doing their job.

My people skills may still be one of my strongsuits, but it probably won't help me a whole lot down the line. A couple jobs back I worked under a guy named Jimmy and a guy named Rick. Jimmy was the lead technician and was very good at what he did. Rick was in between Jimmy and the Vice President of IT. Rick had back problems and would be out for months at a time and frankly, we'd never notice the difference. When Jimmy missed so much as two days, the entire IT department was in shambles.

Jimmy was good at what he did, but his people skills were often lacking. Part nerd, part former mechanic, part jester, Jimmy never really learned how to interact with people. Watching him belittle the end user was often fun from an IT perspective, and he was too important to be fired, but it's unlikely he ever would have been promoted. So someone like Rick, who didn't really seem to do anything except know how to talk to people, will always have the leg up.

It's like James says, there doesn't seem to be much of an in between sometimes. I was hoping that my niche in that regard would be helpful, and it could down the line when promotions come up, but so far it really hasn't.

TBS has shown Ghostbusters twice this evening and I've watched substantial portions both times. It's amazing how well that movie holds up. The special effects are lackluster by today's standards, but the genious of the movie is that it was among the first special-effects comedies, and since it was a comedy the story didn't rely on special effects to carry it the way most movies back then did (and many today still do). The special effects were just part of the backdrop. Well done.

A few stupid questions that popped in to my mind as I watched.

I wonder where or how the Ghostbusters got the permits for their flashing lights on the hearse. That sort of thing is tightly regulated and non-government agencies are generally only supposed to have flashing yellow lights. If you see a security car you'll generally see a yellow lightbar on top.

Considering that the Ghostbusters were celebrities, why weren't they bombarded with applications from every nutbar that wanted to be famous? If they were there but not chosen, what specific qualifications did Winston haveto get hired?

I find it odd that the Catholic Church would take no position on ghosts rising from the dead.

How is it that Bill Murray lost weight, Harold Ramos became blond, Dan Aykroyd gained weight, and Ernie Hudson became twenty years younger in the Ghostbusters cartoon?

How in the world did Filmation get to make a cartoon named Ghostbusters right after the movie without the rights? Or if they had the rights, then why in the world did the original movie company sell them? Didn't it occur to them that they might want to actually produce a cartoon with the actual Ghostbuster characters in it? I always found that whole thing very, very odd.

What happened to Peter, Ray, and Winston during the Affirmative Action Ghostbuster... I mean "Extreme Ghostbuster" years?

What I forgot and/or did not know:

That cute blond girl from Peter Vankman's opening sequence was on Charles in Charge for a single season as Charles's girlfriend.

The voice of Peter Venkman in the cartoon is Uncle Joey from Full House.

When someone asks you if you're a god, you say YES!"

The Great SUV Debate continues.

Jim Henley (Pro), Kevin Whited (Pro), Ginger Stampley (Con), and a vigorous debate in the commenters of Roger Simon's blog all take sides on the issue.

Kevin's non-SUV post on the abysmal weather we've got outside and its comparisons to Tropical Storm Alison reminded me to chime in. Don't get me wrong, I have no grand argument to add to the debate that hasn't been pointed out by someone above. Rather, just a story.

On a dark and rainy night a couple years ago during Tropical Storm Alison, the University of Houston did not see fit to cancel classes (as a side note, I couldn't help but notice that they didn't this time either, despite that TSU across the street did). So I made my way up to UH and it so happened that I had my parents' Aerostar. Good thing, too, as on my way home I passed a graveyard of Cavaliers, Neons, and Escorts. They actually guided me to avoid all the ways not to go. The usual 35-minute drive took in excess of three hours, but I wouldn't have been able to do it at all in the Caprice I was driving at the time.

I'm not an SUV person. I'm not a minivan person, either. I don't like being so high up and I don't like my vehicle being so large (I had the same problem with the Caprice, though it was more width than height). I also almost had a rolling incident in the Aerostar on a different occasion that tends to make me more fearful of that than of running into a powerline poll or some other collision where having an SUV would come in handy.

I may or may not own an SUV or van some day, but if I do I hope that I am not the one driving it day in and day out. If I wasn't scared of heights, though, I'd definitely want a car that I wouldn't have to worry (as much) if it flooded.

Which brings me to my real (very unoriginal) position on the debate: To each their own.

Dad has Longhorn season tickets, so he was there for the Texas-Texas Tech game and got the whole experience (whereas I was left pacing back and forth in the living room to see how it would turn out). Nonetheless, Dad likes to record replays of the games so that he can watch them with the sportscasters and see plays closer that he missed in the nosebleeds.

Last night at 2am, the UT-Tech game was replayed and he set the timer to record it. I made sure that it recorded when I went to bed. We weren't sure the VCR worked properly, so I started scanning through the game and found some problems with the recording. I told him about it when we got home.

RAW: I watched the recording today. It cuts out here and there.
Dad: How bad is it? Does it at least come back to the same channel? [note, it doesn't always, a problem with the satellite box or dish]
RAW: Yeah, it just cuts out here and there. It'll cut out, come back flipping, seemingly fast forward a bit, and then everything turns back to normal.
Dad: Did the Longhorns still win?
RAW: You bet.
Dad: Then I'm sure the tape is just fine.

I must confess that I once again broke down and smoked again.

It was at the Firehouse on Friday. I wanted to get a picture with Texas country musician Mark David Manders. We took a picture and he wanted to have some fun. So he put his hat on my head, his beer in my hand, and his cigarette in my mouth.



I took about four puffs.

It's all his fault.

I start work at Gattaca Monday morning. I may have misunderstood, but I think I get Thursday and Friday nights off. Now all that's left is the paperwork:

Work authorization (social security card or whatnot)

Health insurance history (glad I'm not sick often)

College transcripts (despite the fact that a college degree was not required for this position)

Though most of you know about my plans to sadly leave the Great State of Texas, I've been pretty silent as to what exactly my plans are. Until the Gattaca situation got resolved, I've not been entirely sure myself. Now that I know when I'm going to start, I can say with more certainty what the plan is:

A couple weeks ago, I moved out of the apartment and back in with my folks. This wasn't much of a departure from what I had already planned to do pre-Eel if I couldn't find work. The main effect it had was letting me know that the move would only be for a few months. Now that I have officially accepted the position with Gattaca, I will be moving out of her by week's end and with some friends (including my former roommate JD). When I informed JD of my plans to go to Idaho, he accepted an offer from his former roommate Lyon who was buying a house just down the road from Gattaca (where JD presently works). Gattaca is located on the northwest side of town and I'm on the northeast side of town, so staying here would not be saving me all that much money a month when gas, tolls, and the like are taken in to consideration. Lyon's very generous rent offer also makes moving up there financially viable.

I plan to work for Gattaca for four months or so. However, since it took them upwards of two months to hire me, that may be whittled down to three months. My original plan was to stay through the next Ushicon, which is in the last week in February and leave the first week in March. I'll still be leaving in March, though I'm not sure what part of that month and won't be until I know my financial situation.

There are five reasons that I did not leave immediately:

I wanted to save up some money.

I wanted a last Thanksgiving and Christmas with my family.

I wanted to make sure that I was doing the right thing.

I wanted to see my far-flung friends a couple more times and spent more time with Kevin, Callie, and other friends in Houston.

I wanted to see some more country music shows and appreciate them as my last for a while.

Once I get up to Idaho, I'll be moving into the general vicinity of where Eel leaves that has a total population of about 125,000 people or so all townships included. Unfortunately, the job prospects up there in IT are not very good right now. It also means that assuming things work out I will be out of the IT market for about three years, which is pretty much a death knell without some increased education. If things work out money will not be the issue once she finishes her residency and I will be able to explore all sorts of options. If things don't work out, it will be the extra push I need to get out of a field that I'd already determined I don't want to work in indefinitely.

At this point I will take just about any position that I can find in Idaho that will pay the bills. I expect it to cost at least $750 a month which would require a job paying at least $6.50, which ought to be obtainable even outside my field. I already have a friend up there who could hook me up with a job that pays $8.50.

Her residency finishes in the summer of 2006 and beyond that I have no idea what will happen. It may involve returning to Texas (but not Houston) or we may land somewhere else. She has the option of doing rotations in different places to find a place that suits us and once our roots get planted, I'll start figuring out where I'm going to go professionally from there.

The news is almost surreal. Mostly cause I'm used to down here being the most flooded place of all and instead people elsewhere are getting hit the hardest. My old apartment complex (not the last one but the one before that) is next to that stretch of Beltway 8 that has only a couple feet below the traffic lights.

Kevin has a load of good pictures of his neighborhood, which apparently got hit pretty hard, too.

Last night over dinner:
RAW: Formatting and restoring is like going to the dentist. It's something you should probably do every six months or so, but it's really inconvenient and not very fun, so most people - myself included - put it off until the last possible moment.
Dad: Speaking of dentists...
RAW: I knew I shouldn't have used that metaphor!
Dad: How long have you had that cavity?
RAW: Six months, possibly a year.
Mom: And when do you plan on doing something about it?
RAW: Well, the way I see it I don't know when Gattaca is going to actually finally hire me. My first two weeks will be working during business hours. Since I don't know exactly when that is, it seems to me that I should wait until I'm hired before making an appointment.
Dad: Or I have a better idea. Why don't you call tomorrow morning. You can make an appointment. Then, if Gattaca does hire you, you can cancel and reschedule.
Mom: I like your father's idea.
RAW: Yeah... but... you see... that's... uhm.... two unnecessary calls! Yeah, that's the ticket!

Late yesterday evening on the phone:
RAW: Dad's pressuring me to go to the dentist.
Eel: Didn't you say you had a cavity?
RAW: Well yeah, but since I'm not sure when Gattaca is going to hire me, it doesn't make sense to make any appointments until I know I'll be able to show up. The first two weeks there I'm going to be working during the week. Once I'm put on graveyard, then I can make the appointment.
Eel: Why don't you just make an appointment and if Gattaca does actually finally hire you, you can reschedule.
RAW: That's exactly what Dad said!
Eel: ... and?
RAW: And y'all are throwing monkey-wrenches into my logic here.
Eel: I'm looking around and I'm not seeing any logic here.
RAW: Stop that! You're ruining my plan!
Eel: I don't think you have a plan...

One of the things that I've been thinking about in regard to Elciem's letter is objectivity. After a couple of years, she's finally recognized what I saw for most of our time with one another: She didn't particularly care to be happy.

It sounds crazy when you think about it, but once you see it in one person - as I saw it in her - you see it's a lot more commonplace than you'd imagine. People forsake contentment all the time. In fact, in some ways society induces us to aim higher and higher and higher to the point that if you aim for the sky all you notice is the footprints on the Moon. This is true financially foremost. One of the effects of capitalism is a society where we are expected to continually earn more to keep up with the proverbial Joneses. As the lesson goes, no one ever goes to the deathbed wishing they'd spent more time at the office. It's a lesson usually ignored.

Since moving back in with my parents, I've been watching a lot more television than usual and the commercials run are often comedic and often depressing. The comedic ones are pretty easy to figure out, but the depressing ones are more than a bit depressing, if only to me. Car commercials are the worst of it, in my view. It's one thing to show all the neat things a car can do (I will own a car with an on-board computer display one day), but most of them appeal to our sense of vanity. Get this car and you will be an individual! Get that one and make an impression!

Don't settle. Don't compromise.

And in that sense I believe our culture is being misled. Compromise is presented as though it is spiritual suicide. Faster, better, more powerful, prettier. If you accept anything but the utmost in these categories, you are selling yourself short. Aren't you worth it? You don't want to be average, do you? No? Then buy that new plasma TV!

I'm not attacking capitalism here because it transcends beyond that. Our media has set an impossible standard for perfection into our lives. Nowhere is this more apparent than physical appearence. There is, of course, the waif look that most women are not meant to have. Feminists like to pin this on men, but take an issue of Playboy (for men) and an issue of Cosmo (for woman) and the magazine with the female audience will be thinner. Nonetheless, that men generally put greater weight on appearence than women do is not news or, in my view, even contestable.

I was out of the state recently and met a young man and a young woman. He was a charismatic big fellow and she was a delightful girl with light blue eyes and a nice smile. She wasn't as hefty as he, but as near as I could tell (she was wearing a sweater) she was probably a little bit soft in the tummy, but had a nice enough figure. I'd assumed that they were a couple, but after I left I was informed that though they acted like a couple in a number of ways, he was reluctant to get into a relationship with her until she lost a few pounds.

A few years ago there was a brilliant film released called Beautiful Girls that explored the issue of attractiveness. Uma Thurmon was an outsider that everyone was falling all over, Lauren Holly was the "other woman" and it juxtaposed committed guys and the choices they have to make between what they have and what they'd rather have (Thurmon, Holly, etc.). I call it brilliant because it brought to light something that mainstream media often misses: Guys are victims of media-derived perfection in women, too. They were confronted with women more attractive than their current partners and the temptation of trading up weighed on them heavily.

Don't settle. Don't compromise.

For women it's often a little bit different. It's part about the guy and part about the relationship as a whole. In the same way that entertainment media glamorizes that unattainable woman, it glamorizes the unattainable relationship. It glamorizes the kind of relationship where the guy always knows what to say and how to act. It glamorizes a relationship that is a permanent wellspring of passion. The fights are passionate, the love-making is passionate, and things work out in the end.

This is the trap that Ora and Elciem fell in to. Not necessarily because of popular entertainment, mind you, but it probably played a part and human nature played the rest. Ora, in sixteen year-old fashion (she was 16), had a little knock list of desirability of guys. It started with the unavailable and worked its way down to the moreso. But once she got to the more available, she would see the way that they didn't measure up to others. Instead of taking the person that was right for her (which was me, naturally, and there was this other guy too that would have been good), she finally ended up with the guy that wouldn't take 'no' for an answer. She hasn't been the same person since (for worse initially, for better more recently).

Having witnessed it all with Ora, I could see it pretty clearly in Elciem. Elciem didn't have an intricate knock list, but she nonetheless made the perfect the enemy of the good. She latched on to the wrong guy and when that broke off, I found myself competing with the ghost of perfection. It was a competition I was bound to lose. Michael brought out all these emotions in her. Good emotions, bad emotions, a lot of emotions. Next to that kind of intensity, I couldn't measure up. Even when he was out of the picture, that was clearly what she was looking for.

But there's the catch. Michael was far from perfect. When confronted with this, Elciem readjusted her definition of perfection around what she had with him. In the same way that Ford tells us we are incomplete without a Mustang, she was incomplete without Michael at most or at least someone that brought out the same intensity from her. The search for that level of perfection because more important than the happiness it supposedly promised to bring her, much as we make ourselves miserable working to afford the things that are supposed to make us happy.

Don't settle. Don't compromise.

Would-be President Howard Dean takes great pride in being a doctor. He also takes pride in being a scrappy straight-shooter. This is, in fact, one of the things his boosters say that he has in his favor. I'll also admit that his stubborness and tenacity is why I fear him more than I do John Kerry (though if either of these two were to get the nomination, Bush couldn't ask for anything more). It appears, however, that scrappy Howard and Dr. Dean are a bit at odds. Medpundit, who knows what she's talking about, points out that he has perhaps been less than honest about his career history:

Dr. Dean is guilty of just as much exaggeration, but he isn't getting any of the scrutiny he deserves. As Dean himself acknowledges, he's an internist. And internists -- despite his touching story of teen pregnancy and photo-ops with babies -- don't treat children. They treat adults. Dean's claim to have treated patients ages five to 105 is dubious at best, and it calls into question the rest of his story.

For those of you unaware, this distinction is not analogous to the "not certified by the board of specialization" often heard in law schools. Medical training is very specialized and if Dean has treated children, it's either been rare (in a sense of emergency) or he's been regularly practicing medicine that he's not qualified to be practicing. The distinction is very clear to Dr. Smith.

Update: Post has been mildly edited. Catching a bit of grief in the observations sections (and it's not unwarranted), so check it out.

Instapundit links to Washington Post writer Jennifer Howard, who takes a swipe at blogs. She calls them too self-congratulatory and inbred.

Yawn.

Instapundit also links to Ralph Luker, who puts for a rivetting defense of... dropping a bunch of blogger names and self-congratulating the 'sphere on the Trent Lott matter.

And here I am with links to bloggers that link to bloggers that comment on an article about blogging.

Heh.

An interesting article about a study that suggests that gays can be taught to be straight (or behave as such, anyway). It'll be accepted or dismissed according to ideology, but I found it interesting nonetheless.

John Hawkins calls out Mark Byron in regards to something Byron wrote about how one would violently turn the nation Republican. Byron was just pontificating and stated as plainly as possible that he's not going to do it and not advocating it. Hawkins is a bright enough fellow, so I can't help but feel he's trying to solidy his reasonableness bona-fides. Byron has been bombarded with comments to the point that he had to close his comments. I found the comments section of Hawkins (in which "General Patton" takes Byron's idea somewhat seriously) more disturbing than anything Byron or Hawkins had to say on the matter.

I wanna be an airport skycap.

An interesting back-and-forth between James Joyner and Director Mitch about genetic predestination. The main question being: What happens when we can link any and all misbehavior to one gene or another?

Michael Williams links to a list of things that only happen in the movies and provides his own great list:

1. Any computer system can be hacked in 60 seconds.
2a. Phones always ring during a break in conversation...
2b. ... and the call is always relevant to the scene...
2c. ... and there's no call-waiting.

20. Animals are invulnerable.
21a. Kids are smarter than adults.
21b. Kids can drive cars.
21c. Kids can beat up adults using karate.
21d. Kids are always good judges of character.
22a. High school students are 25 years old...
22b. ... and still wear their backpacks on one shoulder.

I'd add:
1. Apartments in New York City are always at least 1,000 square feet, no matter how poor or unemployed the occupant."
2. The unemployed are wise.
3. Between the East and West Coast are only Chicago and a bunch of people that speak funny and hate minorities and gays.
4. Texans always wear cowboy hats.
5. Southerners are always uneducated.
6. When someone confesses that they are an alien or from the future, his allies are really surprised at first, but then accept it unquestioningy without further thought and/or mental ward incarceration.
7. School is half-spent in the hallways and half-spent in class.
8. Rebels are clean-shaven, clean cut people that wear a black leather jacket.
9. Intricate superhero costumes to not impede vision or movement at all.
10. 1/2 of all sales of rubber faces of former presidents are sold to bank robbers.
11. The local authorities almost always have the situation at hand and the purpose of the FBI is to come in and be wrong every step of the way.
12. Weight is in direct proportion to sass.
13a. At least 1/2 of cops have been promoted out of the uniform, even if they perform typically uniform duties.
13b. ... even if they perform uniform duties such as survaillance...
13c. ... and they spend most of their time outside the office...
13d. ... and paperwork is solely the product of people that want to get in a good cop's way.
14. 1/2 of all single parents are fathers.
15. The term "world famous secret agent" is neither ironic or paradoxical.
16. Cops don't have dress codes in regards to hair length, ear-rings and keeping facial hair trimmed.
17a. If you are related to a cop...
17b. ... or are partnered with a cop...
17c. ... or are dating a cop with long hair, an ear-ring, perpetual stubble, and other real-world cop dress-code violations, your life is in danger right after you see them or right about when you plan to.
17d. If you know a cop with long hair or that always has stubble, your life is perpetually in danger right after you see them (or right about when you plan to).
18. Strong vocal chords are the key to advancement to sergeant in any metropolitan police department.
19a. When a bunch of mis-fits, old-timers, and losers join a team, they always win the last game...
19b. ... and the player that is in the best physical condition will be the one to get hurt.
20. It never occurs to evil, greedy businessmen to contact their lawyer when a scrappy band of misfit kids pull pranks that incur property damage.

Okay, okay, my list isn't near as good as Michael's

I recieved a letter from Elciem last night. I haven't seen her in over a year and I haven't talked to her in over six months, so it came as a surprise. Hearing from her wasn't half the surprise as was what she had to say. She said nine magic words: I'm, sorry, I, was, wrong, you, were, and right.

Things with Elciem didn't end the way either of us would have liked. It ended too late for my tastes and too bitterly for hers (these two were connected). She's shuttled a handful of olive branches my way in the past, but they always contained a caveat, a "however" or a "but" or usually a "isn't it just a tragedy what happened to us" as if it were an incident of nature. I outwardly accepted her apologies, but still truly haven't. She could see it. It wasn't hard to.

As is often the case after a break-up for a falling out, the issue was largely one of assigned blame. I pride myself on my ability to forgive. The thing about forgiveness is that it first requires penitence. Penitence requires an understanding of what all transpired. In her world, hurt is something that just happens. A wandering heart is not a sin, but a tragedy. In my world, things happen because we make them happen and behind every tragedy is a sin. In her world, what transpired between us was a tragedy. In my world, the entirety of our time together was one mistake repeated after another.

As long as we were living in these two different worlds, there wasn't much to say to one another. I'm honestly not angry anymore (and haven't been for a long while), but a reconciliation into friendship was never really a consideration. This has always disappointed me because Ora and I have become friends, Anna and I never stopped being friends, and she was the only one that I felt so much love once upon a time but have been indifferent (at best) to seeing or talking to ever since.

Two years ago, she had nothing of value to say. Last night, she wrote me a letter. She said she was sorry. She explained rightly what it was she was apologizing for. The closest to an excuse she gave was that she was at a point in her life where she wanted passion and not happiness. Two years ago, I could have told her that. In fact, two years ago I did tell her that.

Two years ago I would have given the sun and the moon to recieve this letter. I've needed this vindication. No matter how right you think you are about something, if nobody agrees on the basic set of facts that created the circumstance, something will always gnaw at the back of your mind. The Ghost of What Might Have Been. The feeling that no matter how much evidence you have observed, tagged, and inventoried, it may have been your fault. There may have been something you could have done, somewhere long the way, and that all of the anger you feel, the sadness, and the hurt is the product of your doing.

Two years ago I would have hyperanalyzed every line of the letter. I would have tried to find what she wanted from it, what I could get out of her because of it. I would have had passing thoughts if there were any way that I could use this against her, if I could use it to hurt her the way that she had hurt me. I'd be lying if I said the thought hadn't crossed my mind last night, two years later.

Two years ago the thought of romantic reconciliation would have crossed my mind. I gave her a second chance, but I'd decided before the collapse that I wouldn't give her a third. Would I have held true to it? I'd say there's an 80% chance I would have. If I'd gotten this six months ago, I'd say that there's a 95% chance I would have held true. With Dr. Eel in my life, now there's only a miniscule fraction of a percent. One of the many things I have to thank Eel for.

In the two years since, I've become more confident than she gives me credit for in the letter. I've moved beyond her in ways that I'd lied and said I had two years ago. Her shadow does not loom over me. I no longer approach relationships keeping in mind that the longer I'm single and she's not, the more she was right. The longer I'm single, the more proof that I needed her more than she needed me.

In the two years since our time together, she's had two boyfriends and hasn't been single a day. She's defied my heart-broken predictions of her loneliness. Only sort of. The same problems that she had romantically before she has today. She's proven that she was right: she didn't need me. There's nothing I could have done about it regardless of how things turned out.

In the two years since, she's become a happier person. I've become a happier person. We've become happier people away from one another.

Two years later, it just doesn't hurt so much anymore.

I decided that I would spend the day immersed in college football. It's one of the benefits of living at home where we got satellite and a multitude of games to watch.

So what kind of games have I seen?

Penn State 52, Indiana 7
Wisconsin 56, Michigan State 21
Iowa 40, Minnesota 22

In addition to this, the UH (5-4) game is nowhere to be found, but the Rice (2-7) game is being showed.

The undefeated TCU? Can't watch'em.

The Virginia Tech game that went in to overtime? Not on.

Ahhh well, I can just watch the Michigan Northwestern game, 16-3 less than five minutes into the second quarter...

Update: Well, I asked for an exciting game and I got an exciting game.

Texas 43, Texas Tech 40, settled on a missed field goal on the closing seconds of the clock. I'd post more on that or on something else, but I need to find my heartbeat, first.

Gattaca called and have started talking salaries. They're offering about halfway between what I'm making on unemployment and what I made when I started my previous job. Considering it's an entry-level position that doesn't require the experience that I have (my roommate got the same position there with less experience nad no college degree), I suppose that's to be expected.

The only issue now is when I would be working. I figured I'd get my former roommate's days and hours (Sun-Thur 12:15am to 8:45am), but apparenty not all graveyard jobs are created equal and I could get different days of the week. Sunday through Thursday is good, leaving Thursday and Friday nights for me to go out. She mentioned that there's a Tuesday to Saturday schedule, which wouldn't be as good but would still give me Saturday nights off. If they've cooked up something else where I get Sunday and Monday nights off, I'm going to have to put some serious thought into whether or not I would accept the position.

The Texas Workforce Commission doesn't seem to realize that my benefits should have ended with today's call. Twenty-six weeks and all that. They told me to call again for more money in a couple weeks.

I've already decided not to apply for an extension, but it looks like I might not need to if they keep sending me money. Perhaps they'll ask for it back at a later date or maybe I don't have to shuffle any paperwork to get an extension (which I suppose means I should just stop calling since I don't want an extension?). In any case, it's kinda weird.

Earlier this year, I had to have a relaunch of the database ready by Monday morning. I came in Sunday afternoon and it became obvious pretty early on that I was going to have to work through the night, and that I did.

At UFC, staying late or coming in early does not allow you to not be there between business hours, which meant that I could not leave when I finished, around nine or so. I had to stay until five. That meant working over 24 hours, which I did without complaint.

My boss got in on hour 15 or so, saw me all raggedy and red-eyed. Knowing full well that I had been there all night, he said that while he appreciated the effort, my "desk was not presentable for a Monday morning.”

Skip ahead a week. The same thing happens. This time, I didn't realize till 12 or so that I'd be there all night. So I was dressed in casual weekend clothes, since I figured I'd just be going back and changing anyway. Even when I realized I wasn't going home, there wasn't much I could do about it. Theus got in, saw me all raggedy and red-eyed, and only said "That is not acceptable business attire."

I literally couldn't make it to the end of the day that day. I was tired and worn out. My eyes were bloodshot and it looked as though I'd had the stuffing beat out of me. My cheeks were read, the areas surrounding my eyes were black. I could barely stand up. So at lunch I went home.

I don't have an excuse for being late on Friday as I was. That just happens sometimes.

Except that it happened on a time where I left early on Monday. That's two times in one week where I wasn't at work during the 8-5 hours that I have to be.

So the next Monday I processed payroll and discovered that I had 140 hours that two-week pay period... and then I got written up for inconsistent attendance the week before.

It really hadn't been my month. I'd worked 80 hours the previous week and 65 hours the week prior to that and I still seemed to be falling further and further behind. There was so much to do and so little time to do it. I was in the process of getting ready to launch the next restructuring of the database, fixing our office's fleet of old Pentium 166s, and recovering mass amounts of data that had been lost when the new Production Manager wasn't inserting the codes right.

Stressful doesn't even begin to cover it. I even had to take a break from blogging because my hours had gotten so insane.

In the middle of all this, my boss visited me and plopped a huge maroon covered paperback book on my desk. It wasn't just a book, it was a megabook. A manual. A megamanual.

“What do you know about telecom?” he asked.

“Next to nothing.”

“Well good then. I bought this book for you. I'd hate to think I wasted the money. We need you to hook up phone and Internet into the (previously abandoned) offices upstairs. LBH is going to be moving in there in two weeks and I expect it to be done by then.”

“Wait. Why me? Didn't Juan used to work at Southwestern Bell? In fact, didn't he used to do cabling for them? I'm pretty sure that he did.”

“Juan is an engineer. He has better things to be doing.”

“Can he at least help me with this? I mean show me how to do it at least?”

“I'll tell you what, if you need some information that isn't in the book I bought for you, you can ask him about it. But don't bother him unless you have to.”

And that's how I learned about telecom and installed phone service in my upstairs office in just over three weeks. I was quite proud, but my boss noted that I was a week late.

Is it me, or is the female Dell intern in the newest round of tell ads kinda hot?

It's probably me.

She doesn't quite compare with the woman from the Ex-Lax commercials or the TMBG "Guitar" music video girl in the housedress.

Not everyone can be the Guitar music video girl in the housedress, though, and future ads and video girls shouldn't be too offended.

I can't wait for the next Ex-Lax commercial.

I miss that woman from those van commercials. The one in that dress.

5:00pm: Get back from the store. I think I'm going out so I park on the street.

7:30pm: I discover that I have to get up early in the morning and can't go out.

9:00pm: Mom reminds me to move the car because if it's on the street from 2-6am, I'll get a ticket.

9:45pm: Dad reminds me to move the car because if it's on the street from 2-6am, I'll get a ticket.

10:30pm: Dad goes to bed, reminds me to move the car because if it's on the street from 2-6am, I'll get a ticket.

11:15pm: Dad comes out to remind me to move the car because if it's on the street from 2-6am, I'll get a ticket.

11:45pm: Dad comes out to remind me to move the car because if it's on the street from 2-6am, I'll get a ticket.

12:15am: I see Dad and before he can say anything I said "Go to bed, I'll move the car."

"It's okay, I trust you," he told me. "But can you do me a favor?"

"What's that?"

"I was wondering if you could help me sleep."

"You're not going to be able to go to sleep until I move that car, are you?"

"No..."

I grabbed my keys and Dad went to bed.

These cans of Welch's Sparkling Fruit Punch Soda contain 52 grams of sugar a piece. That's more than Country Time Lemon Aid, more than Coca-Cola, and even more than Mountain Dew.

These cans of Welch's Sparkling Fruit Punch Soda don't taste very good. If you pour it down the sink, the sticky sugar prevents it from actually moving down the drain. It becomes immediate film.

These cans of Welch's Sparkling Fruit Punch Soda are the only two left from the only case the Whitlock family has ever bought.

We've tried to give all of our Welch's Sparkling Fruit Punch Soda. Jay once took a few sips and didn't care to finish it.

We've tried to give all of our Welch's Sparkling Fruit Punch Soda. If we didn't like someone, we'd do our darndest to get them to try Welch's Sparkling Fruit Punch Soda.

We've tried to give all of our Welch's Sparkling Fruit Punch Soda. Whenever we ask someone if they want one, they usually get suspicious. They can see the look on our face.

We've tried to give all of our Welch's Sparkling Fruit Punch Soda. Whenever we ask someone if they want one, they get suspicious. They can see the look on our face. Oz did try it once. He said it was good, but when we offered him another, he declined. When I told him that he could take it home with him, he declined. When I begged him, he got suspicious and did not drink another one.

These cans of Welch's Sparkling Fruit Punch Soda were purchased in March or so of 1996.

These cans of Welch's Sparkling Fruit Punch Soda have an expiration date of November 1996.

These cans of Welch's Sparkling Fruit Punch Soda are still there.

We've tried to give all of our Welch's Sparkling Fruit Punch Soda. We've been trying since April of 1996.

Does anyone want some Welch's Sparkling Fruit Punch Soda?

I still owe some Lyrigraphs, which I'll get around to posting soon. In the mean time, Tobacco Road Fogey has what could pass as one relating to a country song that I'm unfamiliar with.

Hello God, it's me again. 2:00 a.m., Room 304.
Visiting hours are over, time for our bedside tug of war.
This sleeping child between us may not make it through the night.
I'm fighting back the tears as she fights for her life.
How many times have we all bargained with God when one of our children had some kind of need? More often than any of us care to admit, I'm sure. It's been said that there are no atheists in foxholes. Nor are there many at the bedsides of sick children.

If the music video is as good as he says it is, I look forward to seeing it.

The Purit Family

Theus and Aba Purit started dating since before they graduated high school and have been together ever since. They make an interesting and complementary couple.

Theus is Mr. Big Ideas, and an inventor and engineer through and through. An INTP typologically speaking, he's always thinking the next big thing. Once he graduated from college, he interviewed to be an engineer for an automotive firm. He was told that if he got this job, he could be working on the carborators for their cars for the rest of his life. It was meant to be an enticing testament to job security, but the thought absolutely horrified him.

As such, he's never let himself be limited by pigeonholing himself in any single area. He holds over a hundred patents in everything from carborators to oil drilling products to flood control mechanisms. In fact, while he is making a living off running an oil products company he has been working in his spare time on an invention that, if it worked, could quite possibly eliminate flooding in Houston indefinitely. He's been working with a local educational institution on realizing this dream for some time.

His interests expand far above and beyond engineering, however. He is also a(n accurately) self-described religious fanatic. He has written a religious tract over 100 pages long detailing the literal meaning of the Bible.

I read over it one day and found it interesting reading, though I disagreed with large chunks of it. One interesting thing I noted as I was reading over it was his overemphasis on certain subjects. The first is church law that Christians should not sue fellow Christians in civil court. I wondered why he focused on this so intensely until I remembered: His brother, a fellow Christian, sued him many years back for wrongful termination. The second was marital infidelity, which I'm not sure what to make of as I'm positive he has never cheated on Aba.

Theus's conflict between his religion and physics is interesting. While Theus holds two PhDs and a masters degree, he believes that NASA is a giant con job and there is no such thing as space. There can't be space up there cause that's where Heaven is, after all.

In addition to his scientific and religious pursuits are a number of other interests and a constant crusade to better himself and a desire to be a master of everything. The entire founding of UFC was predicated by the ill-feeling he got when he told people that he could not build what he was designing. So he also has written down rules of dieting, just in case he ever decides to become a dieting guru. He also takes a great interesting in psychology and this relatively obscure profiling system that he uses for hiring purposes.

Aba on the other hand is an ISFJ through and through. She was a certified accountant before retiring to raise their two children. She handles all of the books for UFC including payroll, accounts payable and accounts receivable.

Unlike her husband, who is very interested in all things technology, she is a variable technophobe. If she had her druthers, I think she'd just as soon use an abacus.

Aba is much more personable than her husband is, though much more passionate in ways both good and bad. While Theus is stoic, she has a hot temper and has lost the goodwill of numerous UFC employees. On the whole, though, she's a pleasant person as long as you stay on her right side.

More conservative than her husband, the day that the 9th circuit court of appeals declared the pledge of allegiance unconstitutional, she felt the need to talk with all of us about it so we could all agree how wrong it was. We regularly used a program called Algore, but she refused to call it by that name because of its resemblance to the name of the Democratic former Vice President.

Interestingly enough, despite having a college degree and making sure that her two daughters got one as well, she believes a woman's place is in the home, men have a genetic predisposition to lead, and it's a woman's job to support him.

The Purit-in-laws & Brothers in Christ

Teddy married the Purit's younger daughter and as such became the chief salesperson for UFC. It was amusing to watch him work sometimes as he had no clue of what he was selling. In my first couple of weeks there, we went to a convention and manned the table. I asked him what a particular product we had did and he explained it, making no sense whatsoever. I asked Theus about it and in a five minute conversation knew more about it than Teddy did. It was no small wonder that Theus went on all of Teddy's sales calls.

Teddy and his wife had triplets about five years old. Though I only met them once or twice, I'll never forget what they look like because I saw their pictures everywhere and all the time. Cute kids, although a bit spoiled. When a $200 sound system came with one of the company's computers, they got possession of it so they could use it for their computer games. I don't know how much Teddy made, but it was enough to live pretty comfortably (his wife took care of the kids).

I always thought it was interesting that they had triplets. More often than not, triplets are the product in in-vitro fertilization. IVF is not looked upon lightly by the conservative Christian community, which Mrs. Teddy belonged as a Purit-by-birth (I don't think Teddy was particularly religious except to the extent that he had to be). I'm curious the family conversations that have transpired in regards to that. In any case, by the time I left they were trying to get pregnant again.

Their nephew-in-law was also in charge of purchasing and one of their daughters did secretarial work from time to time. Most of the rest of the office employees were all from the Purit's church. I was one of the exceptions, though I suppose I no longer am.

In the course of one day, I had three things that I had to accomplish:

(1) Draft the invoice for the previous month for our big contract with LBH.

(2) Work with LBH's auditor on assessing the billing for the previous month.

(3) Get payroll caught up so that we would be able to release it immediately the next Monday because it was going to be a harsh day.

So I knew I had my work cut out for me and drafted what was most important. I needed to get #2 done first because the auditor was going to be leaving in the afternoon. I also had to get #3 done before Nancy left because I needed her on questions regarding vacations and absences. #1 was the least important because I needed that ready for the next day, but I could stay late and do that alone if I needed to.

So I was busy working on #3 waiting for the auditor to get there. He got there and asked if I'd finished the accounting for the previous billing. I told him that I had no idea what he needed me to do for it, but that as soon as he told me I would be ready to go. He said 'okay' and called his boss because he really didn't know, either.

So I was working on #3 again when Theus came in and asked if the #1 was ready yet. I told him that I thought that #1 didn't have to get done until tomorrow. He explained that he didn't want me to stall until the last minute to do it and that he wanted me working on that right now.

The auditor got back and asked if I'd finished the work for him and I explained that I still didn't know what he needed me to do. He said “Oh yeah!” and pulled me into the conference room for a conference call with his superiors.

Half an hour later, I got back to my office with three messages left by Aba, whom I then called. She asked where in tarnation I was and I explained that I was helping the auditor as I was assigned to do. She stressed and re-stressed the importance that payroll be ready to go that Monday and reminded me that I had to do it while Nancy was there. I told her that I knew and I'd get to it as soon as possible.


I wasn't even off the phone yet before the auditor got back asking if I'd finished yet. I told him that I hadn't but that I'd get to work on it right away. He explained that his superiors really needed this information. I nodded in agreement.

Theus came in about an hour later wondering if the Invoicing was done yet. I told him it wasn't. He stressed the importance of getting that done. I explained that I was working on something for the auditor, which he understood.

An hour later, we had the exact same conversation.

I finished the auditors work, but then I needed to get Payroll done. So I was working on that when Theus came in and asked how the Invoicing was going. I told him that I wasn't finished yet but that I'd be done before tomorrow, as he had requested.

“What have you been DOING all day?” he asked.

My face turned red. I told him that I'd been working with the auditor. He commented that the auditor had left two hours ago. I explained to him that I really needed to get Payroll done while Nancy was still here.

He requested that I join him in his office.

“You do understand that unless we get invoices out, we don't get paid. You understand that, right?”

“Yes, sir, but I also know that Payroll is my first priority at all times. It's in my policy manual as such.”

“I understand that, but Payroll isn't due until Monday. Invoicing is due tomorrow.”

“But Nancy's going to be out tomorrow so I have to work on it while she's here.”

I then got a half an hour lecture where I accomplished nothing but hearing about the vast importance of prioritizing.

When I got back to my desk, I had another message from Aba wondering why I didn't have preliminary payroll numbers yet. I called her and got to hear about how important that was.

I rushed on Payroll and was even working on Invoicing while Payroll processes were running and working double-time to get everyone pleased.

At around three thirty Theus came in and asked how long it would take to burn 55 copies of his religious tract so that he could pass them out at church.

I asked him if I could take care of it tomorrow and he'd still have them for Sunday, and he said that he did not want me to wait until the last minute to do them. I reminded him of the importance of getting Invoicing done.

“I don't want you to wait until the last minute for those CDs, do them first. Then invoicing.”

“What about Payroll?”

“Payrolling can wait, Invoicing must get done.”

“And the CDs?”

“Before Invoicing.”

I just saw Blue October's new music video. Cool!

Well, not the video. The video epitomizes everything I hate about music videos. Great song, dumb video. That's the way it usually goes (except for BET and CMT, where the video is often better than the song, but I digress).

Cool because Blue October has had a rough road. They were mismanaged on their first big-label CD. They chose the wrong inaugural single and wouldn't let them put some of their better songs on the CD. They were subsequently dropped and they put out a new CD on a small label, have been re-signed and now have a label with all of the songs that should have been on the previous CD (which was a good CD, mind you, just not as good as it could have been) and a catchy-and-solid first release in "Calling You."

And now "Calling You" is getting music video airplay.

Cool.

For her birthday last year, I got a subscription of Netflix for Mom. Right gift, wrong person. Dad enjoys movies a lot more and seized the subscription (with Mom's consent). Periodically, I would mention a movie that I'd like to see and saw Vanilla Sky and Hedwig & The Angry Inch that way.

The case of the latter caused a few problems, though. As Hedwig is about a transexual rock star, it suddenly started assuming that Dad was in to gay film. Rocky Horror Picture Show won't go away from his recommended viewing list and he's getting a bunch of movies that I've never heard of, but can tell pretty effortlessly what they are.

It's been over six months, but I still don't think he's forgiven me for that. There aren't enough John Wayne movies in the world...

I've downloaded Opera and installed it on my folks computer as well as my own. I'll write more on it later, but since I have the freeware version they have some (very harmless) ads up top. There was an option to make them completely random, but I told it to go ahead and take note of the sites I'm going to and market accordingly.

It thinks I'm a Sooners fan. It's offering me OU attire and tickets. Dallas Cowboys stuff, too.

I think it's all Kevin's fault.

Adrianne Truett has a good post (Search: "Don't supersize that") on obesity and the virtues of stigma:

Should there not be a stigma to being overweight, the same as a stigma to using foul language in polite situations, or a stigma (which definitely exists in much of the USA) to chain-smoking or drinking heavily, if you want something as genetically predisposed as obesity?

I side with the "others" in that quote; those of you who have met me know I'm fairly heavy. I refuse to shop at plus-size stores and wear tents, however, so my size has had to top out at Express size 14. Trendy stores aimed at obese young women, like Torrid, are not what I want! I do enjoy that they make clothes for the under-50 plus-size demographic, but they are another deterrent from further growth gone down the drain.

I deployed a similar tactic several years ago when I found myself gaining weight. I'd love to say that it worked for me, but it didn't. I was a size 34 and when the 34s stopped fitting, Anna's parents bought me pants. Once that dam burst, I shot up to a 42 within six months (there were other things going on, though).

I've recently taken to buying XXL shirts, though that was a large concession to me. In addition to being bigger than I'd like, I also have a really long torso. The XL's aren't particularly tight, but they are short and don't tuck in (however, this is a product of my size insofar as I could almost wear an L when I was 40 pounds or so lighter.

Hopefully I'll be going back to XL in the near future.

I may have already told me this story, skip it if you've read it, but several months ago I took a trip to the doctor to get my ear cleaned. While I was there, I saw a lot of elderly people, which wasn't much of a surprise.

What caught my attention was how easily I could tell which ones took care of themselves and which ones didn't. Those that took care of themselves were old, but reasonably healthy looking. The others had canes, were hunched over, had tubes coming out of their nose, and looked uncomfortable even moving.

That was about the point where I decided that I was going to really take a good look at how I'm living my life and make some serious changes. The truth is that right now I don't look bad. You don't see me and say to yourself "He's fat" or anything like that. In fact, if I could keep my body like this indefinitely, I wouldn't be that concerned about losing any weight and becoming healthier.

Except that my body isn't going to stay like this. In fact, it's at its prime. But as the years progress it won't be that way anymore, and all of the feelgood seminars in the world about being heavy-and-proud won't change that.

Shortly after UFC was founded, they hired Nancy, their first employee. She was instrumental in helping UFC get off the ground. Extraordinarily detail-oriented and loyal, she was the perfect employee.

After a year or so, Theus asked her if she would have lunch with him. Theus has never been a particularly social person and Nancy was a little taken aback by the request. She said “sure” and asked what it was about.

“Your job performance,” he replied before going back into his office and closing the door.

Nancy, being a natural worrier, began to worry as only Nancy could. Completely. Petrifyingly. Morbidly.

They went out to a restaurant and Theus began speaking, “I want you to understand something. I hate performance reviews. I view them as being entirely unnecessary. The way I see it, if you're doing your job, I shouldn't have to tell you that you're doing your job because you should know that. If you weren't doing your job I would fire you. And,” he explained, clearing his throat, “If you're not doing your job, I shouldn't have to tell you that, either. You know what your job is and you should be doing it. It's not my job to baby you by fawning over what a good job you're doing and it's not my job to tell you that you are incompetent.”

Nancy wasn't sure what to make of it. She didn't think that she had been incompetent. In fact, she'd worked overtime, without pay, making sure that everything got done. But then again, if he had different ideas about what she should be doing, he wouldn't tell her because he didn't like telling people they weren't doing their job. He just said that he fires such people.

“So I'll tell you what I'm going to do,” Theus continued. “I'm going to give you a raise. A year from now, if you're still doing a good job, I'm going to give you another raise. But I'm never going to give you another performance review.”

Almost two decades later, when I got my first raise, he called me into his office half an hour later to assure me that just because I was getting a raise did not mean that I was doing a good job.

Mom is going in for some comprehensive medical tests tomorrow. Everyone's thoughts and prayers would be appreciated.

A while back, Adam informed me of Willie Nelson's then-new song, Maria (Shut Up and Kiss Me). It was a pretty cool song.

Today I discover that it was written by none other than Rob Thomas, of Matchbox Twenty fame.

I also discover that the music video centers around a dancer by the name of Maria. Phil Pritchett's best song is about a dancer named Maria.

Small musical world.

Mom has a little calendar where you tear the days off as they pass. This one is full of inspirational slogans for "women who work too much."

Mom apparently works so much that there's a calendar on the table for women that work too much... and the most recent date is June 27, 2001.

The inspirational/thoughtful saying for the day is:

When Wonder Woman asked "Can I help?" was that codependence?

Well. Was it?

Jack Cluth has an interesting link to a New Hampshire Supreme Court decision that cheating on your husband with another woman doesn't constitute cheating in divorce proceedings

Cluth opines that "I've always believed that extramaritals affairs are not defined by a particular sexual act or set of acts. The sexual acts may be an outcome of an attraction and intimacy that develops between couples, but in most cases the adultery is already present before any sexual activity takes place."

I'm inclined to agree. Sort of. From a legal standpoint (which is what we're talking about here) I do not believe that anything short of a sexual relationship should constitute infidelity as far as the law is concerned. I don't think the law can accurately detect if someone feels "lust in their heart" or a romantic emotional attachment to someone other than their spouse. Now, whether or not a state's proceedings deals with "emotional abandonment" is a different matter, but if someone is going to be at-fault and lose money, I want something concrete.

If the courts determine that becoming emotionally attached to someone else and that alone constitutes cheating, there is less of a barrier for that person to proceed with further acts of infidelity (after all, as far as the court is concerned he'd already be an adulterer) which makes the invitation to step across that important line all the more appealing.

Let me draw two examples of my own past during the waning months of my relationship with Anna. There was Jessica and Elciem. One was physical and the other emotional.

In fact, the in the case of the latter, I had an invitation to cross the physical line. There was a moment when she and I were sitting in my car. It was time for me to get out, but we were talking and stayed parked out front for a couple of hours. The moment came when we hugged goodbye. She looked up and that voice in the back of my mind was telling me to kiss her.

I didn't, and that made all the difference in the world. My relationship with Anna still ended and my dealings with Elciem were not to blame because I'd drawn that line. I wasn't going to let the decision of whether or not to stay with Anna be dependent on the situation with someone else. Don't get me wrong, I loved Elciem by that point, but I was able to gauge the success (or failure) of my relationship with Anna independently because I was keeping that selfish little I-want-to-have-my-cake-and-eat-it-too voice at bay.

If I had chosen to stay with Anna, we'd have had a lot of repairing to do, but it would have been in a much better place because I didn't cross that line (except that I did with Jessica, but I'll get to that in a bit). Had I gone that step further, then that would have been a monster issue on top of all of the others to be dealt with before reconciliation was possible.

Contrast that with Jessica, with whom my relationship was less emotional but more physical (follow this link for the whole story). It signaled the begining of the end of my relationship with Anna because I had in fact crossed that line. It was no longer an issue of what I felt (we all feel things that are inappropriate from one day to the next) but something that I did.

One can change ones mind about their feelings, but they cannot undo what they've done. No matter how much I wanted to deny the problems in my relationship with Anna, I couldn't because I'd crossed that line. Even if I'd wanted to salvage the Anna relationship, my actions with Jessica would have been more of an issue than my emotions towards Elciem.

As the saying goes, love is something you do, not something you feel. If someone is emotionally in a bad place but hasn't cheated, I think it's more important to keep them from crossing that line than it is to condemn them for the lust in their heart.

Naturally, I never wish to cross that line again and I certainly wish for that line never to be crossed again by someone I'm with. Being the hypothetical person that I am I've thought about whether or not I'd be able to reconcile with someone that cheated on me and I have very serious doubts as to whether or not I could. Physical cheating, that is. As hurt as I'd be if someone cheated emotionally, I'd still view it as reparable because they withheld that last inch.

I strongly suspect that I'm not alone in that regard. Feelings and thoughts can be explained away, but we carry our actions with us to the grave.

How To Be an Internet Cam Whore in Five Easy Steps [via my friend Brian]

Writing bad poetry is easy when you disregard meter, pace, and rhyming scheme. Just make sure to follow a few simple guidelines:
1. Never write about anything cheerful. Remember, you are a tortured artist. Be one.
2. Be sure to use the following words at least once per sentence, no fewer than 50 times per poem: lament, loathe, soul, darkness, bitter, agony, despair, misery, anguish, pain, suffer, woe, hate, death, love, sultry, angel, rose, acrid and nihilism. Nihilism is a good one because it comes up all the time in normal conversations.

It's easy, here's a sample to get you started:

fire... burning... agony...
sultry shivers of a dark essence
why am i tortured with this nihilistic existence?
bitter... darkness... despair.

notice the constant lower case? i added that touch to be unique. unique people type in lower case.

The Buttafly Guide to Interpreting Friendster Photos [via Sugarmama]

Example	Photo Type	What they want you to think	The Truth<
	Blurry	Artistic	Has acne, possibly moustache if female
	Anime	Eccentric, possibly Japanese	Computer programmer

When I first arrived, my best friend at UFC was Artie Rabble. It probably couldn't have been anyone else. Artie was the only UFC office employee that (a) was not a member of the Purit extended family, (b) was not a member of the Purit's church, (c) was not older than my parents, and (d) was American.

Artie was in his early thirties in his second marriage with a daughter and a step-son. He reminded me a little bit of my boss at the company where I'd previously worked who was my best friend there. I believe Artie dropped out of high school but went back and got his GED. He'd mostly worked as a machinist, but had made his way to working on the computer programming end of one of the machines and that was where he worked when I got there.

He was something like a fish out of water in the UFC office, but he seemed to get a kick out of being different. He was the only former shopworker there and it showed. During breaks, he tended to hang out with the shop workers and I met most of them through him. He had a tatoo on his arm, a gap in his teeth, and a picture of his wife and step-son on his desk. A jack of all trades with interesting stories to tell about each one.

After work, we'd usually talk by his car and he told me a lot of what I needed to know about working there. He explained that my employer and most coworkers were members of the Church of Christ and explained what that meant. He told me how to keep from getting on everyone's bad side and, most importantly, he explained to me the mistakes my predecessor had made diplomatically so that I could avoid them.

“The thing about Theus,” he explained, “is that he won't talk to you if you're doing something wrong. If he doesn't like what you're doing, he won't tell you until your exit interview. But as long as he's talking to you, you're probably doing alright.”

I'd been there less than two months when at nine in the morning or so I was called into Theus's office along with Nancy. He asked us to close the door behind us. I was a bit worried.

He leaned back in his chair and explained, “We are terminating an office employee today, and that office employee is Artie Rabble.”

Whew.

Dammit!

Whew.

“I'd intended to wait until after Christmas, but Artie has asked for a performance review and I'm going to give him one,” he told us with a smile.

Christmas was three weeks away.

“I called you in here Alex because when I call him in here, I'm going to need you to take down the network. That will give him an opportunity to say good-bye to everyone without compromising the system.”

That was more or less the end of the meeting. It was supposed to happen in an about an hour so I figured it would at least be short and painless.

9:30– A little upset about Artie's departure (and my foreknowledge of it), I have trouble working. What's not helping is that someone is whistling some obnoxious happy tune.

9:45 – I discover that it's Theus doing the whistling. As he passes the office there is an extra skip in his walk.

9:55 – A client stops by, Theus is called into a meeting with said client.

10:15 – It still hasn't happened yet.

10:30 – Artie stops by my office. He tells me that he's waiting to talk to Theus and he doesn't know how long it's going to take. Am I busy?

10:40 – Artie is asking me all kinds of questions about computers. He's going to be getting one for his step-son for Christmas. He wants to get a really good one. How important is it that he gets a CDR? DVD? How much RAM should be get? What brand name? How hard are they to build?

11:15 – We finally map out all the parts he needs to get for the computer that he's about to find out that he can't buy. When he leaves, I breathe a sigh of relief.

11:30 – Theus passes my office with a happy whistle and extra skip in his step.

12:15 – It's lunch time, I ask Nancy if I should go ahead and go so I can be back when... well, you know. She tells me to go.

1:15 – Theus passes my office with a happy whistle and an extra skip in his step.

1:45 – Artie stops by my office again. He's still waiting to talk to Theus and getting bored. He starts talking about his trip to the car lot up in Hempstead. Great deals there, he tells me. His wife has had her eye on a Chevy Cavalier convertible. He's told her that they can't afford it, but he's been saving up and he's going to surprise her. The gleam in his eye is almost as haunting as Theus's whistle.

2:30 – Theus passes my office with a happy whistle and an extra skip in his step.

3:15 – The clients finally leave.

3:30 – Artie is back in my office. We're talking about various things.

4:15 – Nancy informs Artie that Theus is ready to see him.

4:16 – I announce that the network is temporarily going down for maintanence purposes.

4:20 – Theus informs Artie that I was informed of his termination this morning and that I am taking down the network so he can't do any harm to it.

4:25 – Network goes down. No one can work. All I can do is just sit there. And wait.

4:45 – Artie leaves Theus's office and starts packing up his belongings.

5:15 – Artie leaves. I never see him again.

Owen Courreges does a fantastic job of debunking a moronic post over at Burntorange Report on the subject of the Partial Birth Abortion ban.

It's a funny thing how often the right and left live in different worlds sometimes. Opinions often differ, but you wouldn't think that facts would differ to the degree that they seem to. In one world, partial birth abortion is only an emergency measure and almost never happens. In the other, it happens thousands of times a year and is never medically necessary. Opposing views are dismissed as ideologically driven partisans, whichever side one is on.

Of course, I'm somewhat partial to Courreges's point of view on the matter. However, should anyone back the opposing view to the same degree that Owen has (with such religious nuts as the Columbia Journalism Review, the AMA, and the American College of Gynecologists and Obstetrics), I'll post a link to it all the same. The BOR post, however, doesn't meet that standard.

Kevin links to an ABC-13 article about an unusual dog:

Animal control officials say that the dog is in good condition with a superficial wound to its front leg. They say they need to get in touch with the appropriate, real owner of the dog that was shot and also must determine if the dog is viscous and poses a danger.

It would seem that the officer has done us a great service and freed us all from the wrath of the Liquidator!

MSN somehow manages to have a Top 10 Party Schools and completely overlook LSU.

Dateline: September 2001

I applied for the position at UFC on Monster.com. I was relatively certain that I wasn't going to get it, but at three in the morning I sent off an email that was probably barely coherent saying something to the effect of “Hey, yeah, I got experience with Microsoft Access and I could probably look over an office fleet of computers. If you're interested, give me a call.”

The next day I turned in some fifteen job applications to the University of Houston for various tech positions and a couple clerk ones. I had also interviewed twice for a position with a well-respected energy company in the area named Enron, which was known for extraordinary pay and being an interesting and challenging place to work.

Between the University of Houston, which would have been a great place to work because I liked the university, and Enron, which would have paid me very well and was always hiring entry level people, I didn't really give UFC another thought. In fact, by the next evening when they called, I'd forgotten applying at all. In fact, I was so sure that they were UH that I wasn't really paying attention when the nice woman started giving me directions and had to ask her to repeat them. I briefly wondered why UH had an office on the outskirts of town.

I had night class at the time and my cell phone went off during class. I'd forgotten to turn it off because no one ever really called me at night and the only person who might have was spending the evening with her father, so I was relatively certain she wouldn't. It being past seven o'clock, it didn't even occur to me that a potential employer might call.

When Nancy first began speaking to me for some reason I assumed that she was with the University of Houston. It wasn't until she gave me the address that I realized that there was some strange company with an odd name that for some reason wanted to hire me. My self-esteem on the job hunt was not so high. I'd been unemployed for eight months and with the exception of Enron (who it seemed would hire just about anyone with above a 3.0 GPA), no one was interested in me. It was the equivalent of the wallflower being invited to the senior prom.

I got to the UFC offices about fifteen minutes early and was greeted by a very pleasant and nice woman named Edith. Edith gave me the application which I furiously began filling out. When I finished, I was directed to a computer in the back corner office where I took a DOS-based psychological profile program on a 486/25MHz Compaq computer that they still use to this day for various tasks.

As soon as I finished it began printing out. After about ten minutes or so of waiting, I was introduced to Theus and brought into his office for the interview.

“I was looking at your psych profile, and I want you to know that ordinarily I wouldn't even consider hiring you. It says here that you would spend all day as a social butterfly keeping people from working. It also says that even though you could be detail-oriented, you don't believe that detail-oriented is a good thing to be. Why don't you believe that, Mr. Whitlock?”

“I think being detail-oriented is important. You have to be able to take your abstract ideas and app-”

“It says here that you don't think that being detail-oriented is important. Explain to me why.”
“I don't know why it says I feel that way but I don't rea-”

“Why would you spend all your time in my office chattering away and not allowing other people to work?”

“I don't think I would do that at all. I'm really not that social of a per-”

“That's not what the test says. The test says that all you are going to do is talk and ignore details.”

“I don't think that test is right...”

“This test was designed by people with PhD's in psychology. Do you have a PhD is psychology?”

“Well no.”

“Did you lie on the answers? Because if this was designed by experts and the results are wrong, you must have lied.”

“I... uh... well....”

“It says on your job application that you're willing to work for $10 an hour.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Some idiot came in last week wanted $60,000 a year and you're willing to work for $10 an hour?”

I didn't mention that the job had advertised for $50,000 a year (which was why I didn't believe I'd get the job and a reason that I forgot about it promptly after applying. Instead, I just said “I want to work. I'm tired of not working and I have bills to pay.”

“So you'll take this job for a couple of months until something better comes along and then you'll leave it and I'll have to go through all of the trouble of finding someone new?”

“Sir, if I like the job I'll take less pay to do so. I've passed higher paying opportunities before because I liked where I was working.”

“No, the economy is going to pick back up and you're going to get a better job offer and I'm going to have to find someone else.”

“I really don't think-”

“Can I be frank with you?”

“Uhhhh, sure.”

“You want to work here so that you can gab away and distract everybody and ignore details so you can just pad your resume and leave. Is there a single reason why I should hire you?”

By this point I was about ready to just walk out the door. It was obvious that he wasn't going to hire me, so what was the point?

“Do you do drugs?”

“What?”

“You don't do drugs, do you?”

“No, sir.”

“Come with me,” he requested as he took me into the Nancy's office. He then, with me standing right there, told Nancy to inform me that I got the job and to start Monday at 8am.That's how I found out that I got the job. When Nancy asked about whether or not I had to take the drug test first, he explained that they were in a crunch and “Mr. Whitlock has assured me that he does not do drugs.”

And so ended the strangest job interview I have ever had. Leading in to the strangest job I ever got.

Note: It appears this couple-year-old post is making the rounds in email. Just to clarify a bit I am not anti-law enforcement nor am I pro-speeding. In fact, it's because I'm not a regular speeder that I was so angry at what I felt was a speed trap. In any case, to the extent that my accusation that Riesel set the speed limit too low is prema facie incorrect because the state sets the speed limits, I apologize. My apparently incorrect views were largely based on the existence of artificially low speed limits throughout Texas, the South, and elsewhere and that townships have found a way to turn ticketing otherwise safe drivers into a cottage industry. Riesel may not be guilty of this and my assumption that they were (given that they apparently did not set the speed limits I take issue with) was unfair. While I am not the only one to make this unfair assumption about Riesel, I probably should have followed my initial instincts and left the town's name out of the post so as not to single them out. And regardless, regardless of what I thought the policies of Riesel to be, the sleights on the township itself of Riesel were in poor taste.

Hon. Mayor David Guenat, Jr.;

I have driven from Houston to Waco scores of time, but only this past weekend have I become familiar with your town's existence. I hope it does not hurt your esteemed feelings to hear this, but a town with a population under 900 does is fairly easy to miss. I see that you have instituted an outreach program with your local police department in the form of moving violations so that we all may come to see and understand what I'm sure is the greatness of Riesel, Texas.

Changing speed limits five times in a strech of road shorter than the football field is, I'm sure, an effort to keep drivers on alert of the following three matters:

• There is, in fact, a town in existence some 18 miles outside of Waco and to not let the vacant gas station and store delude anyone to think that said town is nothing short of a vibrant community 350-families strong.
• As we have only a handful of yards to slow down from 70 to 60 and then from 60 to 45, our breaks do (or do not) work.
• A stern reminder of the two-second rule when following an automobile. While there was no traffic during my visit, I'm sure if there had been it would have been a good reminder as all the cars slam on their breaks.
• Last, of course, to keep an eye out for ever-changing speed limits. Your attempts at keeping us on our heels did not go unnoticed amidst the flashing lights and $190 ticket.

I'd also like to congratulate you on your cunning and fundraising apparatus. Putting the 45mph limit on the other side of a hill so that one has to keep an extra close eye on the side of the road for falling, falling, falling speed limits instead of on the road was a very nice touch. Putting the 60mph sign on the front side of the hill to lull us into a false sense of security in regards to the previous "Reduced Speed Ahead" was also quite wise.

I must confess: You got me.

I'm not writing merely to thank you for your awareness efforts in regards to your small town, there is a small matter of business I'd like to speak to you about. As I'm sure that you're aware, Texas law prohibits a municipality to raise more than 1/3 of its revenue through traffic violations. As your tax base is limited, I'm sure that this hinders your ability to fund a police department to write your expensive welcome notices.

Might I propose a way around this troublesome law. Several communities in the Houston area have what is known as "deferred adjudication", which allows someone to get out of a traffic ticket if they don't get another ticket in said municipality within 90 days. Before you worry about lost revenue, that's the beauty of it. Instead of charging a fine, you can institute an administrative fee. Several cities, from Pasadena (population 142,000) to Taylor Lake Village (population 4,000) mark the administrative fee as the cost of the ticket.

So what difference does it make? I'm so glad you asked.

Because it's an administrative fee, which has two advantages:

• My insurance rates don't go up because my insurance company is left blissfully unaware of our dealings.
• You don't lose sleep at night for knowing your little vampire town is not sucking us financially dry via insurance rate hikes (which, I should point out, is not money out of your pocket) and a ton of other headaches.
• Most importantly, since it is an administrative fee it does not count towards your municipal moving violation fine cap, meaning you can hand out as many of those boogars as you like and have a parade.
• Since traffic flow and drivers' time is obviously so unimportant to you, a parade would be a way to both stall traffic considerably and raise awareness. Sure, people will be cursing your town's existence, but as those of us who've already met with your Blue Light Welcoming Committee will attest, we already do.

I hope you will lend my thoughts serious consideration.

Sincerely,
Author of the Blog You Do Not Read

I'm typing this from Waco. Saw Phil Pritchett give a recorded show last night for his upcoming live CD. It looks to be a bit of a departure from his first live CD, which was almost entirely unreleased songs and will be a "snapshot" of where the band is. I'm really looking forward to it because, well, I really like where the band is right now. The sound system at Poor David's Pub is one of the best I've ever seen (comparable to the Firehouse's) and Phil's Full Band is really playing very tightly. I almost venture to say that it's better than his former Mobile Tavern band, though I'm not positive on that. Close call.

I also got to see some of Mayor Mother's handiwork that Fat Guy's been talking about in action. Apparently smoking is only allowed at the bar, which David's defines pretty liberally to keep everyone gathered around 20 feet of bar space (not that I would have minded, more room for me!)

I got a ticket on the way up here. I thought that I knew every ticket town between Houston and Waco, but alas there is one called Reisel with a 45 speed limit (I was going 60). Since I've already played my defensive driving card, this one almost certainly goes on my record unless I can find a lawyer to get me out of it.

Isn't the weather great?

You'll have to excuse me, I'm gonna go watch a Ben Folds Five concert DVD now...

I was talking to Polly earlier this week and she informed me that her brother plays for my alma mater Clear Lake Falcons were set to play the de facto district championship against Galveston Ball. Since my days in Texas are numbered there have been a number of things that I want to do before I go. Seeing a Lake football game turned out to be one of them. In addition to being a championship game, it was also homecoming, which made it even more perfect.

For me, and for half the Clear Lake area. I'd forgotten how awful the parking situation usually was. Add to that the special nature of the game and it was a nightmare. I eventually crossed my fingers, hoped that the nearby Eckerds had Falcon Pride or whatnot, and parked there. There was literally no room in the stands so I spent my time by the fence, meaning that I had to run back and forth as the ball moved.

They were about four minutes into the game when I got there and Lake was already up 7-0. Falcon dominance continued and as we neared halftime, the score was 17-7 and we were on our way towards another touchdown. The cool part about being situated on the ground was that I had a land view from the endzone on either side whenever one team or the other was about to score. Unfortunately, this particular drive came right near halftime and the band was getting ready for the halftime show, lining up behind the endzone.

Do you know how hard it is to see what's going on above a wall full of tuba players? I sincerely believe that the Clear Lake Falcon Marching Band has the biggest tuba section in existence. Luckily, I could hear what I couldn't see and when the Lake side erupted into cheers, as did I. Unfortunately, in the last couple of minutes Ball managed to also score a touchdown, making the game 24-14. Really, Clear Lake was dominating the game so I wasn't too worried about it.

Since I have no interesting in watching marching bands, I bided my halftime people-watching.

Some questions I have:

When did high schoolers become so young?

Why does every single couple there (this his homecoming, so lots of couples) look at eachother like they're joined by some sort of everlasting love? My future daughter ain't dating till she's 31.

What are parents of many of these kids thinking? I'd like to think that I'm not Mr. Prude or anything, but what exactly do all the chains on the guys add to the fomulation of a kids formulating years? How do they advance by possessing them? What does it truly add to their quality of life? It's the convergence of materialism, spoiled kids, and gangsta rap culture into some sort of grotesque triumvirate of irritation. Not to just pick on the guys. I don't know why parents would let their sons dress like thugs, but I'm at even more a loss as to why their daughters dress like sluts. It's sad when the short-skirt cheerleaders and drill team are some of the most conservatively dressed attendants in 60-degree weather.

Is there a more lucrative service industry in Clear Lake than manicurists? I swear that I saw no more than 30 unmanicured nails. Thankfully relatively few were painted.

Why did my hot dog come pre-bitten?

I'm not sure what the Galveston Ball coach said during halftime, but it worked. Ball dominated the second half. The only reason they didn't blow Lake away was because of the friendly flag. Throughout the game, the flag became our friend because the penalties were almost uniformly against Ball. Every time it was thrown, the Lake side erupted in cheers.

Ball scored a touchdown (24-21) and Lake's offense finally started kicking it into high gear. Sort of. They persistently made it to the red zone, but on two different occasions, they ended up at 4th and 1, went for it, and failed. This became particularly problematic when Ball marched down the field covering 70 yards or so in 57 seconds. Adding to the frustration was the formely amusing scoreboard operator. The clock seems to stop after every play whether it was a first down or not (or a pass or a run), except one time it kept going after an incomplete pass! Not to mention that it would be first and ten on the forty and then second and eight on the forty-eight an eight yard carry. A gain of three yards was shown as five. It was amusing until every second, and every yard, started counting.

One of the more fun aspects of a high school football game is that the officials seem to be having a lot more fun. They could theoretically argue that they have to exagerrate their calls so that the booth can see them, but you can't convince me that they didn't have fun acting like Leslie Nielson in the first Naked Gun movie.

I made a friend while I was watching it. She was the proverbial soccer mom who didn't quite understand the rules of football "No, Mrs. McGee, that's not an interception that's a punt." "You can't pick up an incomplete pass and run with it." There was also a younger girl who was rather clueless leaving early becuase we were "obviously going to win" when they had just marched down the field and were on our 10 yardline with 2 minutes remaining (they fumbled, we went 3-and-out, they then did their 70-57 drive).

We couldn't get a yard to keep possession of the ball while they got seven on a bad down. In the closing seconds of the game, they scored a field goal and tied it up. It was only the lack of time that prevented them from scoring a touchdown and taking the game.

High school football, it turns out, has the same overtime rules as college football. We got to go first and were reduced to a field goal, making it 27-24. On their turn, our defense finally started dominating with a ten yard sack that proved very important because it put them into long field goal range. On fourth and twenty, they went for a field goal. I sprinted behind the goal post to watch the kick go up. It was well placed... but about two yards short.

27-24, Clear Lake.

Kevin links to an Tim Cowlinshaw article outlining the argument against a college playoff system:

In an eight-team tournament, the small-conference unbeatens probably wouldn't get the invitation. And if they did, and the net result is that a team playing the 116th-toughest schedule with no losses gets picked over a team playing the 15th-toughest schedule with one loss, what kind of tournament is that, anyway?

Playoffs don't settle arguments, they only change the tone. In a 16-team tournament, schools such as Oklahoma, Miami and Florida State would spend four months playing for seeds.

Yawn.

As Kevin is a soft proponent of a playoff system, I'm softly against it. The devil would entirely be in the details and as Cowlinshaw points out, an 8-game playoff wouldn't settle any arguments and a 16-game playoff would seriously detract from the regular season. While I could be convinced on the former, the latter I very much oppose (and I can't escape the feeling that an 8-game playoff would devolve into a 16-game one in the same way that professional playoffs keep expanding. Why does the NFL need wildcards when each conference has 4 divisions? Money, of course.

I prefer college football to professional for a variety of reasons. In college football, everyone gets a home team. Even if you didn't go to college, all but 10 states are represented in one form or another by a 1-A team (see below) and most are represented by at least two. The current system also sets up an attainable goal for each team that's in a conference (which is all but four universities).

That's my first problem with a college playoff system. It makes conference titles matter less, particularly for those in a non-BCS conference (Mountain West Conference, Conference USA, Mid-Atlantic Conference, Western Athletic Conference, and the Sun Belt Conference) whose conference title would not likely get them into the playoff system. Admittedly that's largely a sentimental reason since the current system doesn't give those schools that much, either.

My second problem with a college playoff system is the way that the basketball tournament is held. Essentially every school this side of North by Northeast State University gets invited to the tournament so the season doesn't matter so much. Admittedly, college football would likely never have a 64-team playoff, but I could see them getting up to 32 and since I-A football contains less schools than does basketball, it'd have the same effect. Cowlinshaw's argument touches on this as well as my next point:

Start the examination in Stillwater. That's where Oklahoma State and Texas will be playing for a possible spot in the Fiesta Bowl. A BCS bowl invitation is what all these college coaches lose sleep and scream and cheat (if they choose) to obtain.

That's where the millions are. That's why you can't tell the conferences anymore without a Mapsco, so many teams jumping from the Big East to the ACC, from Conference USA to the Big East, from the WAC to Conference USA.

Everyone's chasing those dollars, but wait. Texas and Oklahoma State? The winner of this may get into a BCS bowl and neither of these teams could stay within 40 points of Oklahoma?

That's why no tricked-up tournament is needed to decide the issue. No March Madness, the thing that renders the entire college basketball season a cheap warm-up act, needed here.

The Division I-A college playoff begins in August and ends in January. Get it? Bob Stoops does.

Every game means something. Cal 34, Southern Cal 31 – that meant something. Florida 19, LSU 7 – that meant something.

The next reason for what I like about the current system and don't want a football playoff is that in these days every game matters. You lose one game, you likely don't get a second chance. That kind of pressure is enormous and I feel it every time UT loses their first game. Every team is walking on a tightrope. It's great!

That said, there are problems with BCS ranking and the current system. If three teams go undefeated or if everyone loses a game then it's a crapshoot as to which 11-1 team gets a shot at the title. I like the spirit of the BCS ranking to keep politics out of it (the number-punching they use may need work, though, I'll leave that to Kevin and other experts). It's not common that three teams do go undefeated, but it's certainly possible and the plight of Texas A&M in the late 90's, where they went undefeated but had trouble placing themselves against teams that had lost a game, provides similarly problematic scenarios (although the demise of the SWC helped in this regard).

That, unfortunately, I don't have an answer for except for possibly a 4-team playoff, but that would generate into a 16 team playoff (or wildcards) before you know it and lessen the impact of the individual games, which is one of the most important draws of college football and worth keeping a playoff system at-bay to avoid.

In the next section is a list of the states, the I-A universities that reside there, and the conferences that they're in. If you see a mistake, let me know.

[Read More!]

So how did it go?

Today I interviewed not with Gattaca, but a consulting firm that handles drug tests and background investigations.

Well, the first thing you'd expect of a company that (among other things) gives urinalyses is that they wouldn't have a "no drinks allowed" policy or would at the least give you some water while you wait.

Annoying, but not nearly as bad as what I found out next.

Not what I wanted. In fact, I wanted anything but this. I figured I was safe because the Gattaca HR department seemed far too busy to go too in-depth for the background check.

They are, of course, but the consulting firm that I interviewed today are not. They're going to call my former boss. Furthermore, I had to sign a confidentiality agreement, meaning that my former boss could call me a child molester and I will neither be able to give my side of the story nor would I be able to take any recourse.

Those of you familiar with my former employer understand when I say that my chances of getting hired by this company (which I'd placed at 95%) have just dropped considerably. Those that aren't familiar are about to find out...

I have a fifth interview and a drug test set up for tomorrow.

I've mentioned a series called The Authority before and how impressed I was with the realism of the characters and their attitudes. Before The Authority, there was Stormwatch. Stormwatch began as a stupid serial by notable hack Jim Lee during Image Comics' heyday in the 90's. Those of you who recall the period will remember it largely as endless serials starring some variation of the basic X-Men roster with grotesquely large muscles and a clear lack of any development.

However, much like Alan Moore revamped Supreme and breathed new life into WildCATS (another 90's Image vapid paragon), Warren Ellis stepped in and skewed Stormwatch away form Lee's original vision and into his own. Since Ellis is actually a writer and Lee's plots largely contorted to show off the grotesque muscles of the heroes, this was definitely an improvement.

When I read Ellis left The Authority, I was aching for more and discovered that most of the characters in The Authority had roots in Stormwatch. It turns out that there are four Stormwatch collections offered by DC Comics:

Stormwatch: Force of Nature (SW#37-42)
Stormwatch: Lightning Strikes (SW#43-47)
Stormwatch: Change or Die (SW#48-50, Stormwatch Preview #1, Stormwatch Vol. 2 #1-3)
Stormwatch: A Finer World (SWv2#4-9)

My first criticism of the collection is unlike most serial collections, it seems to be divided somewhat randomly. Perhaps that was necessary in order for those of us that missed there first run to collect them all, but it makes it rather difficult to review them individually. I will stay that none of the four end with a cliffhanger, so you don't need all four to enjoy the story, though it would probably help to start at the begining.

As with most team books, it's a bit tough to get to know all of the characters very well and you have to accept that you're not going to understand everything at the top of the storyline and just keep going (though I should point out that the second collection, Lightning Strikes, has a good series of solo stories where you get to know some of the characters pretty well). That said, Ellis begins his run at a reasonably good jumping on point as Harry Bendix (the Professor Xavier of the group) assembles a new team.

Unfortunately, team books don't give the reader a whole lot of time devoted to the characters and so characterization is shallow almost by definition (though the longer the run of any team book, the less this is the case), I must compliment Ellis's extremely creative characters. It's often difficult to come up with original sets of superpowers and origins this day in age, but Ellis does so handily. While I didn't get as much characterization as I would like, I was really left wanting to know more about the characters.

The plots were both interesting and frustrating. I view the differences between the DC and Marvel universes to be an interesting contrast to study and the WildStorm universe (WildStorm was originally an Image imprint now owned and distributed by DC) is a different bird all together. It's particularly interesting how the stories here infected the DC Universe with their breakneck pacing and each-adventure-is-bigger-than-the-last schtick. However, it's considerably more appropriate with WildStorm because unlike DC, the WS properties aren't important and therefore a writer is given considerably more freedom with the characters.

With this in mind, it would have been easy for Ellis to resort to continually killing off characters in order to spice things up, but he never did.

If there is one way to describe the plots, I'd say "paranoid." It's one part X-Files and one part JLA. The conspiracies are interesting and the nature of them is something notably absent in most DC and Marvel comics I've read. The stories are remarkably original and, like most truly good stories, could only exist in the universe and context in which they were written.

Unfortunately, Ellis does go a bit overboard at times. The tragedy of serial fiction is that an author doesn't know how long he has on a series and therefore can't map everyting out from begining to end (Garth Ennis's Hitman and Preacher are two excellent counterexamples, however). So with that, the stories do get a big repetitive as variations of the same basic thing. It's interesting to have the American government secretly behind a villains plot. It gets old when the American government is behind every villain's plot. In fact, I would argue that the United States Government is the biggest villain of all. I don't mean the CIA specifically or some rogue quadrant of the government, but rather all of it. Everything is a conspiracy that goes right to the top, including one plot involving the President's serial-killing psychopatic illegitimate son. It would have been slightly more interesting Ellis had been able to map out a grander scheme with the government being the big villain at the end instead of the tireless villain throughout.

Yet, at the same time, I can't really argue with the depiction of the attitudes of the United States government. Stormwatch is constantly at odds with the US and when you consider that Stormwatch is a UN organization (which has its fair number of issues with the UN I should add), it makes sense. When viewed in the wider context of a superhero team breaking all kinds of rules to do as it sees fit and an American government doing the same, it brings forth an interesting contrast of conflicting ideals.

Unfortunately, Ellis doesn't even begin to try to justify the actions of the government other than to depict Americans as a bunch of hicks (there is a storyline that takes place in Alabama, where of course a racist group kidnaps the black hero). But to the extent that one is able to put Ellis's hostility aside, the stories are ones you're not likely to read anywhere else and the stories are good enough that despite my complaints, I was too busy turning pages to get too frustrated with it.

I give it a strong 8 out of 10.

My friend Phillip Morris has been on a roll lately. Less than a week after I made the Idaho decision (and before I told anyone), they sent me a whole bunch of information on road trips to Wyoming and Montana! Two weeks ago they sent me a "things-to-do-when-you're-moving" list. I swear, they know me so well it's scary!

Tonight's TCU-Louisville game was one reason. I would rather be almost anyone in the world tomorrow morning than that kicker.

TCU (9-0, 6-0 Conference USA) and Oklahoma (9-0), the No. 1 team in every poll, are the only undefeated teams left in major college football. Both have 11-game winning streaks.

Louisville (7-2, 3-2) got its last chance after TCU was unable to run the clock out following Smith's 47-yard miss that was well short.

The Cardinals got the ball back at their 20 with 55 seconds left and no timeouts. Stefan LeFors completed passes of 10 and 19 yards to J.R. Russell, then on fourth-and-15 scrambled away from pressure to find Robert Haskins for 29 yards to the TCU 27 to set up Smith's attempt.

[^^^]

Brandon Hassell threw for 251 yards and a touchdown, ran for 61 yards and another score, and the 13th-ranked Horned Frogs beat Louisville 31-28 Wednesday night. It was their fifth three-point win this season.

A 44-yard field goal attempt by Louisville's Nate Smith on the final play of the game bounced off the crossbar. Smith had also missed a 47-yard attempt with 2:36 left, and failed on a 22-yard kick in the third quarter.

TCU (9-0, 6-0 Conference USA) and Oklahoma (9-0), the No. 1 team in every poll, are the only undefeated teams left in major college football. Both have 11-game winning streaks.

On my way home from packing, I was stopped at an intersection when a downtrodden fellow decided that my windows, which had just been wiped, needed to be wiped again. He seemed to innocently mistake my violently shaking head and waving "incomplete pass" gesture as "Don't you forget to wipe my window kind sir" and "be sure to wipe all over" because he just squeaked away.

I rolled down the window and told the gentlemen, "I surely appreciate your gesture, kind sir, but I already took care of my windows earlier."

He shook his head and said, "Perhaps you have, my good man, but they have not been cleaned to my quality standards, so I will keep on wiping."

"Oh, I appreciate the sentiment, but they are quite clean and if you will notice ahead, my red light is now green and I would like you to kindly proceed away from the vehicle so that I might move forward in time to catch the green left turn signal, which as I'm sure you probably know, are dreadfully short in span and long in wait times."

"It will only be one second further..."

"I do believe I would like to catch that light, so if you would kindly get out of my way I'd..."

"Hold on a bit more."

"I positively regret to inform you that if you do not place yourself out of my vehicles forward motion, I will go forward whether you like it or not."

"Well, if you put it that way I will proceed to move away from the front of the car and to your windshield. I will now extend my hand."

"I do appreciate you getting out of my way. Goodbye."

[Yes, this did actually happen. Yes, I did alter the language ever-so-slightly]

Yesterday was Moving Day. Today is Not Moving A Daggum Muscle Day.

I sat around, read some comic books, walked around all day without any shoes or socks on, made some great food, drank sugar.

It's 1993 all over again!

A while back I was staggered when I discovered pop star fan-fiction. Well, I ran in to some again. Well, not really. This is actually funny and entertaining, reminding me a bit of the Airplane movies for some reason.

“Hey Don,” Britney Spears said, rubbing her fingers through my hair. “I want you to try something.”

“What?”

“I bet you think your life can’t possibly get better than this, right?”

”Something like that,” I said.

”Well, take two of these and, trust me, you’ll see what you’ve been missing.”

“What are they?” I asked.

“Ecstasy.”

“Drugs?”

”Come on, Don. They’ll make you feel nice and love everyone.”

“Even Hitler?”

“Not so much Hitler.”

“I’m not sure I should,” I said. “Helen wouldn’t like it.”

“I know something else Helen wouldn’t like,” Britney said, a naughty glint in her eye. “Bee stings.”

“You know, you’re right. Helen hates bee stings. Okay, I’ll try it.” I popped two small blue pills with pictures of butterflies on them and waited.

Scene: A Taco Bell / Pizza Hut Express on the westside of Houston yesterday evening.

Characters: A RAW that has been moving things all day. He's been up for over 24 hours and hasn't eaten in 16. He's extremely sore from carrying boxes and dirty from all the kicked up dust. He's also very, very grumpy.

RAW: Could I get a Number 13?
Pizza Hut Express Employee: I'm not sure if we have that. Let me go look.
RAW: Okay... need... fooood...
PHXE: [Looks, returns] We don't have a Number 13. You can get a Number 12 or you can wait 10 minutes for us to make it for you.
RAW: ... need... food... give me a Number 12 then, I guess.
PHXE: Okie dokie!
RAW: [takes his cup, fills it up, goes to sit down. Five minutes later returns to desk to see where his supposedly ready-to-go pizza is]
PHXE: Oh, sorry bout that. Hold on. [goes to oven] Uhmm... sir, we only have one set of breadsticks available. They're a little crusty on the outside but I'm sure it's okay on the inside. Would you eat them?
RAW: ... neeeeeed... fooooooooood... yes. Just give me the food. Feed the breadsticks to a stray cat. Just give me my pizza... I don't care... neeeeeed... fooooood.
PHXE: Okay, well I'd better go ask the manager. I don't want to get in trouble. [goes to the back, comes back out]. She says I can't give it to you, so you'll need to wait another 10 minutes.
RAW: Can I talk to the manager?
PHXE: Sure.
Pizza Hut Express Manager: What can I do for you?
RAW: Can I please just take the stale breadsticks and go? Can I get my pizza and wait for the breadsticks?
PHXM: I'm sorry, we don't bring the food out to you and we can't give you the breadsticks because we guarantee quality foods and won't sell food that doesn't meet our quality expectations.
RAW: Quality expectations? This is Taco Bell...
PHXM: We pride ourselves on our brand, sir. It will only take ten minutes.
RAW: Then can you at least throw a Number 13 in the microwave too? I wanted to get one but didn't want to wait for it.
PHXM: I'm sorry, that transaction is already final. You'll just take the Number 12 that wasn't your first choice and when it's ready will have been sitting out on the tray for fifteen minutes and the breadsticks that you don't really even want but ordered because they came with the meal and you'll like it... and that's our food quality guarantee!

Publius TX
Conference Shakeup

Dallas Morning News:
Conference changes leave some issues hanging
What the New C*USA Would Look Like (.PDF)
Mountain West considers expansion
SMU invited to join Conference USA

ESPN:
Horned Frogs reportedly anticipate invitation (to MWC)
Rebuilt Big East benefits on basketball side

It looks like the pillaging of Conference USA may not be finished yet. The Mountain West Conference is looking to extend and invitation to TCU.

I'm obviously biased, but I really hope that TCU doesn't accept the offer (they're having meetings to decide whether or not they should). The MWC is the most competitive non-BCS conference at-present and I could see why TCU would be attracted to it.

Honestly, though, if the offer were extended to UH I'd equally oppose the move. Though the MWC may be more competitive, the C*USA has its share of advantages:

Time zones - All of the teams are in the Standard or Central time zones and all of the teams in the new C*USA west division are in the central time zone.

History - I'm thrilled at the prospect of a SWC B-team (the only thing missing is Baylor!). These are teams that played each other constantly several years back and two sets of local rivalry (Houston-based Rice and UH and DFW-based TCU and SMU). The MWC, on the other hand, has a bunch of great schools, but few with very much history with TCU (presumably they did play each other in the WAC at some point before the MWC fractured off, but that's about it).

Regional Rivalries - In addition to historic rivalries, there's the close proximity of the other teams in the division, which makes it easier to foster rivalries. Truth be told, if TCU does decide to go we'll probably pick-up the long-suffering Louisiana Tech and while that's not as good as having TCU or Baylor in the conference, it's better than UNLV.

Addendum - It should be pointed out that Louisiana Tech is suffering because they're the only WAC team in this time-zone, the same situation (I think) TCU would be in should they accept MWC's offer.

Time Equals Distance (and Grades and Money...) - If MWC were a BCS conference, then that'd be one thing. But since they're not and are unlikely to bring a windfall of cash, it's going to be expensive. Not just financially, but in time and attendance as well. I know that I considered making a trip to Lafayette to see the game against ULL and there was a bus full of people that did. That type of thing would be a lot harder to organize (impossible really) against all of the MWC conference rivals.

The Big 12 South - There may be an opening soon.

These are, I'm sure, all things that TCU is presently considering. I'm just hoping that they don't get wide-eyed and drunk off their undefeated season and start thinking that the only way towards being a contender is the MWC.

So far, history is not in favor of that. To my knowledge (which is admittedly limited), not a single school has turned down an invitation yet.

There's always one last light to turn out
and one last bell to ring
and the last one out of this circus
has to lock up everything
-Counting Crows, "Mrs. Potter's Lullaby"

Still going...

I've gone through an entire bottle of Tilex and another of Comet. I can no longer breathe through my nose.

Getting there, getting there...

I know you've all been waiting with baited breath to hear my endorsements for today's city elections.

Well, wait no more. Unfortunately, due to time constraints I've been unable to look at all the races, but here's what I got:

Mayor: Not Sylvester Turner!!!
Controller: Not Tatro
City Council: Mark Goldberg, Not Sekula-Gibbs

Sorry, that's all I got.

Proof that karma exists.

I'm using my folks' van for moving-related tasks. Before handing over my car for the trade, I decided that I would go ahead and clean the windshield, figuring that Dad would be horrified by the dirty windows.

I get the van and I find myself terrified, driving 20mph down Genoa Red Bluff (45mph 1-1 lane road where everyone goes 60) because I can't see but five feet in front of me...

because of the dirty windshield.

Now I know where I get that from...

For various reasons, I've taken most of the last week off with rare posts.

Today my weekly average broke 100 for the first time in my history of blogging (including RAW1.0, NLJ, and Disagreement).

It has become apparent that I should cease to post a lot more often.

Duly noted...

It's been a long day and it doesn't look like it's going to be ending any time soon. My body is sore from head to toe from moving box after box after desk after box. Yet I continue. Because I am strong? No. Because I am tough? No. Because I waited to do everything moving-wise until the last friggin' minute, as-per-usual?

Of course.

Eel: Can you see, Alex?
RAW: Sorta, [mutters] I think my windshield wipers aren't working.

[Five minutes later]

Eel: I really think you need new windshield wipers.
RAW: Wipers are something we don't replace very often.
Eel: When's the last time you replaced them?
RAW: I think I hear birds chirping... do you hear birds chirping?
Eel: You've never replaced the wipers?!
RAW: No, I haven't. It's really not that big of a deal.
Eel: I'm not so sure, Alex. If you got pulled over a cop could probably cite you on it.
RAW: I really don't think I'll get pulle-
Eel: CURB!
RAW: ACK!
Eel: Whew.
RAW: Anyway, I really don't think I'll get pulled over. You're just like Jay.
Eel: How so?
RAW: You know how when it's raining I insist on flipping the wipers manually?
Eel: Yes. I hate that!
RAW: He always says that I need to wipe them more often and should let the car do it automatically.
Eel: Go through the next light. Is there a point to this?
RAW: That I have excellent vision when rain obstructs it.
Eel: But it's not raining. That's what's so scary about being in this car with you. Oh, I'm sorry, Alex, I thought I told you to go straight. Don't take a right here.
RAW: D'oh! Sorry.
Eel: Oh, okay, so I did tell you to go straight.
RAW: Yeah, I just got tricked.
Eel: Tricked?
RAW: Yeah, I couldn't see that I was able to go straight...
Eel: through your windshields, right?
RAW: There are those damnable birds chirping, again.

Hey everyone,

I'm back in Houston. Lafayette was great and I'll post on it more thoroughly at a later date. Unfortunately, I have two days to move so that takes precedence.

My roommate has already moved out. Unfortunately, he took the Internet with him, so access will be limited.