Archive for July, 2006
Or something close to it.
I am not a morning person, and never will be. But I can fake it well enough to keep up the early start for the time being, Starting close to the summer solstice was probably the best situation I could hope for–starting an early gig in the dead of winter would have been a million times more painful. It doesn’t feel quite so early with the sun almost fully up when I get to the bus stop.
And, of course, getting paid a fair sight more than in my last gig gives some incentive. The decent free coffee helps, although I really miss not being able to duck out in the middle of the afternoon to go shopping. I also definitely miss having a near-infinite selection of lunch options in five food courts accessible via pedway. And I miss the incidentals–having my dentist, tailor, stylist, massage therapist et al so close I could drop in during my lunch hour. So I guess I’m still acclimating.
I’m in fear of getting fired for being found out for too much surfing, too much napping, not enough productivity or a combination of the above and becoming the cautionary tale whispered to the newbies–“Oh, we had a systems analyst who barely lasted a month before she got fired for not doing anything.”
But I think, unfortunately, I might be the nearest thing to a metalhead in the department.
July 23rd, 2006
First, a quote from Steve: “Ebay: The world’s largest and most expensive garage sale.”
Back in my second year of compsci, I developed a huge crush on my 201 TA. Or, as I referred to him, “Rob, the Tongue-Pierced Tattoo-Footed Guitar-Playin’ Codin’ God”. We became friends, drank some beer, roughhoused in the lab and had some mutual friends, but nothing ever came of it. Not least because, I’m sure, as one of my friends puts it, I “flirt like [I’m] in grade four”.
Flash-forward to the end of my third year. Rob is graduating and throwing a “disco party” at his house and extends an invite. Our social circles overlap by maybe two people at this point, so I asked a friend of mine, Susan, to go, promising her many gin and tonics and the prospect of young virile men. But Susan, being Susan, I suppose, flaked out on me an hour or two before we were supposed to meet.I debated for some time whether or not I was brave enough to go on my own. The first hour or two would be painfully awkward until everyone was sufficiently inebriated for me to talk to strangers. (Ah, alcohol, the K-Y of social intercourse.) But then I hit on a plan. Knowing Rob had adopted a dog not long before, I picked up some dog treats on my way to the party.
I arrived and, as expected, the two mutual friends Rob and I had weren’t there. I spent a lifetime–twenty or thirty minutes–trying to entertain myself as people hunkered down in their cliques among people they knew. I held out as long as I could, then called his dog into the empty backyard. For another half hour or so I played with her and fed her. Then I sent her back inside and followed a few minutes later. By this point I was feeling a little braver and people were a littler more drunk, so I was a little more comfortable imposing myself on people and spontaneously introducing myself.
Later that night I was talking to Rob when his dog came over and started nuzzling my hand and rubbing against my legs, looking at me expectantly. “Wow,” said Rob, “she really likes you…”
“Yeah,” I said, “I’m really good with dogs.”
Anyway, the party turned out fine and at some point I may or may not have fessed up to Rob.
We lost touch after he graduated–not like we had any reason to stay in touch. I ran into him now and again on Whyte and if I was bored at work, I’d google him (to no avail). The last time I ran into him was about a year and a half ago. I had just arrived back from a business trip to Switzerland at midnight the night before and was running on very little sleep. Not a time you want to be running into an old flame, especially when you’re so tired that after the “hey, how’s it going?”s the only thing you can think of to say is “I just got back from Switzerland 8 hours ago!”
Today I was running a Yamaha violin through some paces at work when I happened on the brilliant idea to play “Summer of ’69”. Which, of course, I then had to share with other staff on the guitar side of the store. Playing violin and singing at the same time is HARD. REALLY HARD. So needless to say, I was butchering it badly, much to the amusement of other staff.
Then I realized Rob was poking through the picks on the counter and laughing at me.
We chatted for a few minutes before some stupid rugrat yard-ape kid on the drums literally drove his dog out of the store. Any maternal instincts I might have had were repeatedly stabbed in the heart as I watched Rob get dragged out of the store by his poor dog. He’s quit the industry and gone back to school for an Ed degree. I’m not sure I’m taking much away from that except that it’s gonna be when you least expect it that you’re going to run into those you least expect.
And that I still flirt like I’m in grade four.
July 8th, 2006
It occurred to me today that my brother put the “art” in “fart” when he farted on my head some years back.
Tomorrow marks the end of week two with Epcor. With my a/c and deregulationr kicking in, my electricity bill promises to amount to the proverbial pound of flesh.
This week’s soundtrack:Â the “Home Movies” season 4 bonus CD, Mediaeval Babes – “Mirabilis”, Chris Isaak – “Best of”, Queen – “Night at the Opera” and a mix CD the 5D CS team lead made for me as a parting gift packed with classic metal.
July 6th, 2006
Yeah, that’s right, bring it on. I’m ready for it.
I have a freakishly hot apartment. During my first week at Epcor, the thermostat didn’t drop below 25 degrees and spent most of the time doing the rubber chicken at the high end. Not being a morning person to begin with, getting up for a 7:30 start time has been that much more hellish, and I’ve actually fallen asleep in my cube these past two days (it’s nice and cool, I’m pretty isolated, it’s quiet, it’s kinda dark…). After the sweatfest that was Thursday night, I couldn’t take it anymore.
For years I’ve debated the pros and cons of getting an air conditioner. But usually by the time I’ve decided one way or the other, it’s either too late in the season to justify it, or I just don’t have the money. As it turns out, my brother’s new condo has an even worse issue. He bought a “portable” air conditioner early in the season and, although it doesn’t exactly make his condo into a meat locker, it did drop the temperature a few degrees once it got fired up.
After a week of less than five hours of sleep a night and waking up in sweat, I resolved to get myself one of these things. Unfortunately, the rest of Edmonton had the same idea.
Jon, bless his heart, drove me all over Hell’s half-acre (aka every big box store north of the river) looking for a portable air conditioner this week, but none were to be had for less than $700+. Everyone was out of stock. On several occasions the store clerks would simply announce to the crowd that they were out of stock.
Thursday night Jon and I were discussing potential alternate purchase points, and he mentioned Best Buy. I hadn’t thought of it, so I went online to bestbuy.ca and started scoping things out. Paydirt–a portable a/c for $499.
But then I started checking inventory in stores. Not a one to be had in Edmonton. I checked Calgary–every location sold out.
In desperation I checked Red Deer. Just on the off-chance And lo and behold, ONE LEFT.
I called Jon–at 12:15 in the morning–just to confirm. As it turns out, he didn’t have anything on his calendar Friday night.
Road trip.
Yes, Jon, like an angel of mercy, drove me to Red Deer and back for a portable air conditioner. From the look sof it, possibly one of the last left for purhase under $600 in the province.
I picked up a Haier 9000 BTU model. Single-hose exhaust system. Does it work? Like a damn. It’s not exactly mounted according to spec–instead of using the adaptor panel (which is too big for my living room window), I just use the pane to hold the hose up to the screen (if that makes any sense). There isn’t a lot of space on either side so it works pretty well. The unit itself isn’t as heavy as I expected–the body is all plastic, which helps, but also makes me wonder about durability. The instructions have their share of Engrish, but are decipherable. And, granted, I can’t get the remote control to work.
Do I care? HA. It cranks out the BTUs and isn’t any louder than the ancient table fan I’ve had running non-stop since the hot weather kicked in. It beats going to bed with three icepacks and a huge floor fan blaring all night. And it can’t cost me any more than spending as much time as possible anywhere but in my apartment–it was so hot that any movement fast than a slow, lumbering sway would result in rivers of sweat. My hair refused to dry. And I was generally cranky and miserable.
Not any more. I can roll it into my bedroom if need be. I run it for 10-15 minutes at a time and go back to the table fan otherwise to conserve electricity. I spent all day at home today and did not once curse the sun.
Hopefully it’ll ease my morning commute once work starts up again on Tuesday. But I’m going to spend ths long weekend basking in the cool breeze my portable air conditioner gently exhales, like the breath of (insert name of benevolent Egyptian god/ess here) across the Gobi Desert that is my apartment.
July 1st, 2006
Between the heat and the early start time, I haven’t been making the recommended 6-8 hours of quality sleep the experts are constantly exhorting us to strive for. In fact, I’ve probably averaged between four and five over the past three nights. Which is probably why, in the privacy of my cubicle, in air-conditioned comfort, editing a particularly dry system control overview document, I dozed off.
Oops.
Fortunately I don’t think I woke myself with a snort as I’ve been known to do in other jobs. Nor did I leave a finger on the “4” key, wake up when the computer started beeping at me and, in a panic, print off ten pages of 4s. Nor did my head nod forward, smacking my keyboard tray, then overcompensate on the snap back, causing me to fall backwards in my chair and execute a backwards somersault, winding up on my feet in a squat position.
However, three days into my new job, because of timing, I’m expected to complete a six-month performance and goal-setting exercise. If I had put off my start date another week, I could’ve avoided the entire thing and gotten a three-day weekend tacked on.
But my team is nice, my lead seems cool and the work could be interesting. The walk from the bus stop turned out to be shorter than Queen’s “Prophet Song”. Which will no doubt feel like an eternity once the first snow falls, but for now is better than I had anticipated.
Now if I could only find an air conditioner…
July 1st, 2006