*glee*

Well, it looks like my prediction didn't materialize. Harry is not in a smoky battleground littered with the bodies of wizard both good and evil. He is also not covered in grisly battle scars or wielding two wands. Hermione is not floating behind him like Storm.

He is, however, in some sort of arena with Voldemort. If I were to allow myself some assumptions I would reckon that he and Voldemort are doing battle. The seats of the arena are filled. I figure they are death eaters in those seats since anyone else would be helping. Though it wouldn't be difficult to imagine a scenario where regular wizards also look on with out offering aid.

The interesting thing is that both Voldemort and Harry are reaching out for something to the right. What is it? Neither one has a wand in their hands....

I'm excited http://www.the-leaky-cauldron.org/gallery/dhus

Edit: Two more things. Harry has something around his neck. I can't remember if it could be anything from the previous books (I guess I have to read them now). Also, their are curtains! Could these be the curtain in the ministry of mysteries? Are those, then, not the death eaters? Could one of them even be....?

HOLE-EEEEE-SHIT I'm getting that bug....WHY AM I AT WORK? I need to be sitting at a table with people who are discussing this.

EDIT2: It actually looks like harry is reaching for something and Voldemort is pushing it away. OK, ok, I swear I'm going to do some work now.

When Gmail Stops Working

I die a little inside.

Hush Puppies

A coworker and I had this conversation with the dude selling us scones:

Us: "Do you know what a hush puppie is?"
Him: "A shoe?"
Us: "Well...technically, but no, it's a food"
Him: "Oh, like a slurpee?"
Us: "Well, ok yeah, but no, this is a little fried ball thingy"
Him: "..."

Anyway, we learned that the term "Hush Puppie" might be a southern thing.

I might even try Monopoly again

If you were to combine a handful of computer scientists, a copy of the board game clue, and an evening of free time what do you imagine would be the result? I've seen the result, and brother, it isn't pretty.

When I was a kid I remember my sister really loved to play clue and generally I was involved. We found it enjoyable but not particularly intricate. A CS Degree and an ego built entirely on my intellect later Clue is by far the most interwoven game of deduction ever conceived.

You can't picture it until you've seen it with your own eyes. By the second turn, thats two turns, as a card is slid across the table intense eyes hidden behind furrowed brows stare unblinkingly at tiny pieces of paper upon which you'll find notes so meticulously fashioned you'd think we were proving p=np. As the game wears on the scratching of pencil on paper becomes increasingly mad. Near the end we speak a language only we know, a language completely without sound.

At one point my poor neighbor came down to see whats up. As she looked on Jim said something to the effect of "I suggest it was Mrs. Peacock in the Lounge with the Candlestick". See but I knew, from my notes, that Jim /must/ have the Candlestick card. He was lying, without remorse, to us all and it disgusted me. A common enough thing to do, but in the fury of the moment I shouted "BULLSHIT". Imagine what my neighbor saw: "I suggest it was Mrs. Peacock in the Lounge with the Candlestick"
....
"BULLSHIT"!

What do you mean? She asked. He didn't even say anything that could be bullshit. But I knew.

Even now the design for a clue note taking tool brews in the back of my mind.

I Actually Like Corn

A couple of years ago Tan showed me this interesting article on how many publications with delusions of legitimacy are merely shills for the highest bidder, that in fact many articles are not written by columnists but rather given to columnists by pr firms. So if you were to, say, stumble across an article discussing the nations incipient movement back to being "well dressed" you would have probably just read something written by or for 'The Men's Wearhouse". It was written by one who claimed to be part of that world.

The article mentioned some known offenders and some known publications you could trust, mentioning the New York Times specifically.

Pushing through irony so thick it could close and airport, I took the lesson to heart. It fit well with my recently adapted cynicism and I've taken pleasure during the time since in trying to figure which article is trying to sell me something.

Today though I was reading this article and missed it. The article was actually interesting and I didn't realize my mistake until I found out, on Amazon.com, that the book mentioned wasn't even out yet.

I feel to be sporting I should buy the book anyway, I was simply outclassed. Shameless as the advertising was, I was taken in.

So yeah...I'm stupid.

Heroine

I'm pushing old school. In short order you'll find me commenting on what I was doing while you were a twinkle in your mother's eye, etc. In slightly longer order I'll become crochety and comment on what I was doing while you sucked on your momma's titty.

Sure I am only 24, but thus is the life of a tech.

Still, I will always, even in the face of "I was there when" elitism, loath creating MySQL accounts without phpmyadmin.

EOM

"Clipless" Are The Ones You Clip Into. "Clips" are the ones with no clips....

While I am not so bold as, say, Dylan who regularly plays with the border of human sanity, I do "ride hard" and "take it to the edge" on occasion. I am also not a slight man and so I have damaged by bike in many ways. I've broken spokes and chains, had to replace a derailleur and a brand new set of shocks; I've bent a lot of things that were meant to remain straight.

All of these things have happened while on the trail. Damage is to be expected and prepared for.

When I ride on the road, smooth and easy, I don't expect any such damage. Imagine my consternation, then, when my left pedal fell off mid-ride last night when I joined Blake and Crystal on their training. Not just the pedal, but the pedal and arm fell off. Right off.

Upon closer inspection I found that the bolt meant to keep that arm on the axle had somehow come loose then fell off. A mile or two later the arm itself fell off. I didn't find the bolt and so now get to do that thing I love to do so much: Spend money and time on my bike.

For almost 3 years now I have been considering the purchase of some fancy clipless pedals. As I rode and tried, for the zillionth time, to find some justification for spending that money my current pedal was good enough to fall right off.

Clipless!

Sidebar: I learned a lesson yesterday that I have learned many times before: My Texas biking garb is /not/ suitable for the canonical pacific northwest weather.

Saad

I took a very long lunch today. 2 hours, all told. It was that long because I was eating with a group of new grads and we wound up at this place that took for damn ever (good food though). This post isn't about that lunch though. It's about Saad, the driver of the shuttle from TCC to US1/2.

Generally when I take that shuttle I chat a little with Saad. Usually small talk. Today, for whatever reason, I decided to dig a little deeper and engaged him in a nice long talk. I want to record what I know about him because I was struck by his story.

First and foremost I found out today that Saad has no benefits as a driver for Standard Parking. Thats ok though because he recently put in his two weeks and will be opening a body shop in Des Moines, Washington. Amongst his first customers you'll find me and my Honda with it's missing undercarriage and various dents.

The more interesting tale is Saad's past. Which is almost cliche in it's tragedy, excuse me if I fore go the pun that is thundering in my mind as I type.

You see, Saad is Iraqi. He came to this country in 1991, and if you've been blessed with more acuity that I was you'll find the timing interesting. It seems Saad fought with Bush 42's forces against Saddam and made it all the way to Baghdad's borders when Bush pulled back out to Kuwait. There aren't words do describe the saturated frustration in his voice when we described this. "We were right there". Saad got a chunk of RPG shrapnel in his skull thrown in for good measure. So the American troops patched him up in Kuwait and he began his life as a refugee in the States. In the ensuing years his wife divorced and remarried (see, they are Shia, from about 30 minutes south of Baghdad). His Daughter got married and his Son Engaged.

It's not all bad though. I guess in Shia Islam the women doesn't automatically get the kids, it would seem the opposite is true. So his kids are with his mother and father and it looks like they talk often. Also, Saad's been sending money back since way before Saddam fell. This is huge, because the 6 houses he bought at an average price of 2000$ have since SKYROCKETED and this shuttle driver is worth roughly 1.2 million dollars. He would never sell the houses though, apparently a couple of them are on the river, and all are inhabited by family.

After a while I couldn't help ask about his feelings toward the current events out there. He said that the war was a good idea (at least for the Iraqis) and that the current problems are mostly seeping through the atrociously open borders.

Oh, and since whatshisbucket fell Saad's been home twice =-D. I asked if he'd ever go back for good and he said he will soon, when we can finally make a good enough living there to support his family.

I like Saad. I hope he doesn't rip me off for my body work.

In Honor of Pi Day

If you don't know, they won't tell you. I, however, reject the insularity of geekdom and invite you in with welcome arms. It is akin, somewhat, to April 20th, but with a mathematical bent.

My birthday (02011983) appears 24,192,532 digits into pi. Where does yours?

Dirty

Speedbird 206: "Frankfurt, Speedbird 206 clear of active runway."
Ground: "Speedbird 206. Taxi to gate Alpha One-Seven." The BA 747 pulled onto the main taxiway and slowed to a stop.
Ground: "Speedbird, do you not know where you are going?"
Speedbird 206: "Stand by, Ground, I'm looking up our gate location now."
Ground (with quite arrogant impatience): "Speedbird 206, have you not been to Frankfurt before?"
Speedbird 206 (coolly): "Yes, twice in 1944, but it was dark,... and I didn't land."

Rectum

It grates on me when I've experienced an extraordinarily funny situation and there is no way to recreate that situation again. Generally what happens is that the folks who shared it will develop a new "inside joke" and call that moment's humor with a mere word.

What sucks is when you move. Your battle chest of inside jokes wanes significantly. At times you find yourself saying "If was here, we'd be laughing our asses off" after you, with barely contained mirth, respond to "how are you" with "make your ipod look like steve jobs" or some other equally useless non-sequitur.

Phleh...

Nerdcore

I probably shouldn't be blogging twice when my horizon features a deadline. But I just finally sat down to listen to MC Frontalot and feel I should let anyone who cares know that I am a fan, and looking forward to his concert.

Title

I am currently writing code for work in:
Python
C
Java
Perl

and will soon be giving a presentation on ruby on rails (i know what you're thinking...I'll learn it).


Thats sort of fun.=-D

UPDATED: Captain, My Captain

I finally got a hold of a Calphalon representative. They are sending me my lids free of charge as a courtesy. ^_^

I guess now I'm a life customer.

BIH

6 beers into "BIH" or "Beer In the Hall". I just want to document that peculiar euphoria that comes with sitting down at your work desk while tipsy.

I'm not even drunk. I just am altered enough such that driving would be impeded and code writing would become unimpeded in a way that would likely prove negative. So I am not doing either. I am just playing with Apollo environments until this damn script runs properly.

Sidebar: I am officially in charge of 2 projects now. One of which is considerably daunting. Oh, also, I am awesome, and a little nervous

I moved out of an office with 2 leads and into my own cube. Thats exciting because those leads, when they needed a quick thing done, needed only look behind them to see the freshman test dev.

Peace and Cheers.

Healthy Breasts...That Bounce....

Yesterday was payday #2. While the great numbers of Lord Bonus didn't muster under my flag this time around, the deposit was, of course, welcome. While I would like to save the majority of my income I also would like to furnish my apartment. So I've given myself 1 item of furniture a month. This month it seems that item of furniture is a 30$ nightstand from IKEA. It has proven difficult to shake off the unemployed, living-off-of-loans frugality of college life. Stalwart as always, I decided to cross the street from IKEA into a "Mor, Furniture For Less".

Upon entering I was greeted by one of those salespeople you hear so much about. Guys with names like "Chad McDouglas" or "Guy Smiley" or "Chip Merit". I always feel weird about these dudes since we are generally cut from a similar cloth but I have to be slightly on the defensive. Legendary stories of my sales resistance do not actually exist. Kraig, his name was, asked me what I was interested in and I responded "Good-ol' boy office leather sofa".

I've /always/ wanted on of those over stuffed, fancy-pants, hoity-toity leather sofas. I guess that, or a leather armchair, will be my first big-ticket item. Kraig showed me all they had and two of the styles appealed to me. Both were within a reasonable price range too.

I walked out of that place without having bought anything. And those are very expensive items, so I have a lot of reason to pause. But I get feeling that within the month I will have purchased a new couch.