You know what? Work is exhausting. But who cares? So what did I do when I got home today? I realized that I hadn't mailed the bills that Mer asked me to mail this morning. So I hopped on my bike and pedaled down 7th Avenue 'til I found a mailbox. The weather was perfect, and I love my bike. I love 7th Avenue, too. It is a place where you want to hang out on the street because there are benches and trees and pretty storefronts all over the place. It is like a city planner's dream: All different races of people hanging out, chatting, and eating overpriced sorbet. It kind of reminds me of Wellfleet, except with fewer white people.
I forgot to mention that I saw Tomb Raider: The Cradle of Sucks on Saturday. What an awful movie. Just boring. So boring. I couldn't even follow what was going on, and it didn't look like anyone was having fun. To make matters worse, at the beginning of the movie there was this anti-piracy ad featuring this ridiculous-looking set-painter -- he was like 50 years old and had died the tip of his goatee purple -- urging us not to steal movies, since it wasn't the rich executives who lost money when movies got pirated, it was guys like him. Good, get fucked, jerk. Lose your job and keep sucking the MPAA's cock while they tell you it was because of all the sinful movie pirates; they really care what happens to you, honest. And then the worst movie I'd seen all year. Jesus Christ.
This show on Fox on gross bugs is pretty cool, but it would send my Forensic Entomology professor into anaphylactic shock it's so sensational. What am I gonna do for dinner? Tsing Tao makes some ill-good food, but I feel like I should make something.
Mer is afraid that we're going to get bronchitis.
Thursday, July 31, 2003
Tuesday, July 29, 2003
I'm Not The Girl You Thought I Was
Blogger just erased the post I made. It wasn't interesting -- my job is nice, but the people stay too late. I also said:
The leaves of the trees outside our place up by the streetlight looked like a beautiful green spiderweb. The stoop smelled forbodingly like a horse.
The leaves of the trees outside our place up by the streetlight looked like a beautiful green spiderweb. The stoop smelled forbodingly like a horse.
Thursday, July 24, 2003
I Got A Job
Yeah, so it looks like my references checked out okay, and I'll be going down to 634 B'way (or whatever the address is) tomorrow to sign some papers. I am now officially richer than all of you and own more stock options. It turned out that the Non-Compete Agreement, which prevents me from working at a competing company (as determined by DataSynapse management) for up to a year after I leave, was not negotiable. That kind of irked me, but I did a little research, and it sounds like it's probably non-enforceable in New York, as per this ruling.
And not a moment too soon, since CSFB is starting to get on my nerves. The asshole-nice guy ration among the bankers is roughly 50-50; the women in the assistant pool are insufferable -- all they do all day is talk on the phone, giving advice to friends with chronic health problems; they keyboard gets confused when I try to type a tilde (~) or a double-quote; and I have to wear a stupid "visitor" sticker on my shirt so I can get into and out of the building.
There was this creepy guy on the bus today with a voice not unlike that of the guy from the candy bar commercial who rewards an altruistic motorist with "a big hug," and he wanted to know what my sticker meant. "Are you a visitor?" he asked.
"No," I said. "I'm a temp."
"You work for Tim?" he asked.
"No," I said. "I'm a temporary employee in an office building."
"How did you get that job?" he asked. Good question.
...
Last night, Mer and I watched Spirited Away; the night before that we peeped Catch Me If You Can. Both well-reviewed by The Onion A.V. Club, who have a hilarious review of DVD commentary tracks for a round-up of terrible movies, both good. Coincedence? I think not. Thank you, snivelling, back-biting Nathan Rabin!
And not a moment too soon, since CSFB is starting to get on my nerves. The asshole-nice guy ration among the bankers is roughly 50-50; the women in the assistant pool are insufferable -- all they do all day is talk on the phone, giving advice to friends with chronic health problems; they keyboard gets confused when I try to type a tilde (~) or a double-quote; and I have to wear a stupid "visitor" sticker on my shirt so I can get into and out of the building.
There was this creepy guy on the bus today with a voice not unlike that of the guy from the candy bar commercial who rewards an altruistic motorist with "a big hug," and he wanted to know what my sticker meant. "Are you a visitor?" he asked.
"No," I said. "I'm a temp."
"You work for Tim?" he asked.
"No," I said. "I'm a temporary employee in an office building."
"How did you get that job?" he asked. Good question.
Last night, Mer and I watched Spirited Away; the night before that we peeped Catch Me If You Can. Both well-reviewed by The Onion A.V. Club, who have a hilarious review of DVD commentary tracks for a round-up of terrible movies, both good. Coincedence? I think not. Thank you, snivelling, back-biting Nathan Rabin!
Tuesday, July 22, 2003
Man, Did It Just Rain Or What.
I am serious. It was just pouring. And now, nothing.
That fire at the top of the Eiffel Tower: Don't worry about it.
Good news! I got an offer from that company; actually, the more I read about it, the more interesting it sounds. I actually got a couple of books out of the B&S library to bring myself (more) up to speed. I don't think I should say more about it until I work out a few things with my Non-Compete Agreement, but hopefully I will have a full-time job.
On about the same level of cool, I stopped at this exotic bird store on the way to the library. It was on like 33rd Street and Lex, I think; they have this really awesome display of zebra finches in front -- it takes up the whole window, practically. And inside there were all these different birds, all doing different things: There was a big green parrot that seemed like it was responding to me talking to it, only it was making dog-like "woof" noises; there was a tucan that kept hopping from one perch to another and back again; there were a couple of African gray parrots that were each balancing on one foot -- lifting the other high in the air -- like dancers stretching; there was another parrot just kind of blowing spit bubbles; and there was a mynah bird making a noise like a fog horn. I considered as I was leaving that I might have contracted some rare kind of jungle disease from talking to all those birds, but it'd be almost worth if I did.
Oops, there goes the rain again. Sorry.
That fire at the top of the Eiffel Tower: Don't worry about it.
Good news! I got an offer from that company; actually, the more I read about it, the more interesting it sounds. I actually got a couple of books out of the B&S library to bring myself (more) up to speed. I don't think I should say more about it until I work out a few things with my Non-Compete Agreement, but hopefully I will have a full-time job.
On about the same level of cool, I stopped at this exotic bird store on the way to the library. It was on like 33rd Street and Lex, I think; they have this really awesome display of zebra finches in front -- it takes up the whole window, practically. And inside there were all these different birds, all doing different things: There was a big green parrot that seemed like it was responding to me talking to it, only it was making dog-like "woof" noises; there was a tucan that kept hopping from one perch to another and back again; there were a couple of African gray parrots that were each balancing on one foot -- lifting the other high in the air -- like dancers stretching; there was another parrot just kind of blowing spit bubbles; and there was a mynah bird making a noise like a fog horn. I considered as I was leaving that I might have contracted some rare kind of jungle disease from talking to all those birds, but it'd be almost worth if I did.
Oops, there goes the rain again. Sorry.
Sunday, July 20, 2003
Happy birthday, creep-job
Mer and I rode our bikes around Prospect Park today, this time without stopping. It was beautiful; not late in the evening enough to see fireflies like last time, though.
I spent last night with Tom, Emma, Ted, and Maya. We watched Bad Boys II -- now that's a creepy movie. The first part is an awkward and demeaning buddy comedy that purposefully reverses the natural order of Martin Lawrence as a sloppy asshole and Will Smith as a pretty nice guy; the second part is a paean to U.S. arrogance and a demonstration of the inexplicable affection all ethnic and economic groups seem to feel towards our military, as the two titular police officers stage a small-scale invasion of Cuba to rescue Martin Lawrence's sister. Sorry if I spoiled it for you, creeps.
We had Chinese food tonight: Chicken w/ Garlic & Shrimp w/ Broccoli & Boiled Pork Dumplings. Tsing Tao!
I hope I get that DataSynapse job; it's looking like I'll have to take more money out of my savings account to pay the rent this month.
I spent last night with Tom, Emma, Ted, and Maya. We watched Bad Boys II -- now that's a creepy movie. The first part is an awkward and demeaning buddy comedy that purposefully reverses the natural order of Martin Lawrence as a sloppy asshole and Will Smith as a pretty nice guy; the second part is a paean to U.S. arrogance and a demonstration of the inexplicable affection all ethnic and economic groups seem to feel towards our military, as the two titular police officers stage a small-scale invasion of Cuba to rescue Martin Lawrence's sister. Sorry if I spoiled it for you, creeps.
We had Chinese food tonight: Chicken w/ Garlic & Shrimp w/ Broccoli & Boiled Pork Dumplings. Tsing Tao!
I hope I get that DataSynapse job; it's looking like I'll have to take more money out of my savings account to pay the rent this month.
Sunday, July 13, 2003
Cadillac grills
Don't look at the date -- I'm posting this from an old, un-published entry. To-day is my birth-day, and I am still a little sick from this weekend. My stomach was upset all last week, and then on Thursday I developed a bad sore throat and a fever. But what made it almost okay is that Mer fed me and rented movies for me and we spent the weekend just been lying on the couch and drinking soup. I hope she doesn't get sick. Here's what we watched:
Yesterday:
Today:
My interview with DataSynapse went okay; predictably bland explanation of what the company does from the head guy, followed by a bad-attitude tech grilling from the jerky head tech guy who thinks he's too busy to have to deal with me, followed by an explanation of the position from the young, tired-looking guy who had it last year. At least there were no brainteasers. I have another interview with them tomorrow at 2:00 PM. It took a while for me to get what they do, because their web site is so circumlocutory, but this article in the Science Times made it clear. Apparently, grid computing is going to do for computation what the web did for data. Who knows.
This woman whose computer I fixed put me in contact with the director of I.T. for the Environmental Defense Fund, who said there's a helpdesk position available. Employment is so close I can taste it.
Here are some of the presents I got so far:
All delightful!
Here's a poem that my Heroes of Might & Poetry teacher read us this year:
He cried a bit when he read it; it's a bit of a sad trip. s/Tom/Julian/, and s/All that shit about dying/Stuff about getting presents/. Alright! Let's do this thing!
Yesterday:
- Haiku Tunnel: Good, albeit with a protagonist who inspires about zero sympathy
- Smoke: Also good, though it's clearly not a comedy (as it's billed -- "Where there's smoke, there's laughter!" What?!)
Today:
- Gangs of New York: Good but long
- Blade: Okay
- Blade II: Okay
My interview with DataSynapse went okay; predictably bland explanation of what the company does from the head guy, followed by a bad-attitude tech grilling from the jerky head tech guy who thinks he's too busy to have to deal with me, followed by an explanation of the position from the young, tired-looking guy who had it last year. At least there were no brainteasers. I have another interview with them tomorrow at 2:00 PM. It took a while for me to get what they do, because their web site is so circumlocutory, but this article in the Science Times made it clear. Apparently, grid computing is going to do for computation what the web did for data. Who knows.
This woman whose computer I fixed put me in contact with the director of I.T. for the Environmental Defense Fund, who said there's a helpdesk position available. Employment is so close I can taste it.
Here are some of the presents I got so far:
- Promethea, Book II
- Shirts, button-down
- NYT, subscription to
All delightful!
Here's a poem that my Heroes of Might & Poetry teacher read us this year:
This is your birthday, Tom, and I rejoice
That thus it passes smoothly, quietly:
Many such eves of gently whispering noise
May we together pass, and calmly try
What are this world's true joys, -ere the great Voice
From its fair face shall bid our spirits fly.
He cried a bit when he read it; it's a bit of a sad trip. s/Tom/Julian/, and s/All that shit about dying/Stuff about getting presents/. Alright! Let's do this thing!
Monday, July 07, 2003
2002 New York Yankees
Man it took a long time to get my computer set up at CSFB this morning; I don't mean my heavy little laptop, neutron-star. I mean this big stupid thing I'm not supposed to play with. The guy from IT had to connect to it and move the mouse around from downstairs before I could look up the name of this book store for my "principal," who was getting very impatient.
Speaking of principals, Mer and I got bikes at a store called "On The Move." The woman who sold them to us made it very clear that they have to be locked up or they will be stolen. "You could be reaching into your pocket for 25 cents to buy a hot dog," she said, "and you turn around -- boom! They're gone." We will be very careful. The geniuses over at Prospect Heights Realty have yet to cash my rent check, meaning that I must hurry and deposit my Personnel Express money as soon as I can take lunch. Thank Christ for Fleet overdraft protection.
Okay, I am not ready to publish this thing, but here are some good links. Slashdot justly noted that these little diary entries from Dr. Ed Lu, the current on-board ISS Science Officer are both well-written and really interesting. NASA has also made available this Q&A stuff with him, which is also quite good. Wow, and just now they linked to the NORFANZ deep sea exploration mission; it has plenty of pictures of new sea animals.
The young scumbag with a degree in Finance in the cubicle next to me just said, "What. The fuck."
[Time passes...]
Okay, I am back from lunch now. I had some chicken thing. So I got my check from Personnel Express, and it is only like $320. That's great. I still owe Mer for my bike. What a pain. I better get a fucking job soon. I am learning shell-scripting now; maybe that will make my resume more attractive. But we are going to have to cut some fucking costs, that is for sure. It's kind of depressing, even. Okay, time to publish.
Speaking of principals, Mer and I got bikes at a store called "On The Move." The woman who sold them to us made it very clear that they have to be locked up or they will be stolen. "You could be reaching into your pocket for 25 cents to buy a hot dog," she said, "and you turn around -- boom! They're gone." We will be very careful. The geniuses over at Prospect Heights Realty have yet to cash my rent check, meaning that I must hurry and deposit my Personnel Express money as soon as I can take lunch. Thank Christ for Fleet overdraft protection.
Okay, I am not ready to publish this thing, but here are some good links. Slashdot justly noted that these little diary entries from Dr. Ed Lu, the current on-board ISS Science Officer are both well-written and really interesting. NASA has also made available this Q&A stuff with him, which is also quite good. Wow, and just now they linked to the NORFANZ deep sea exploration mission; it has plenty of pictures of new sea animals.
The young scumbag with a degree in Finance in the cubicle next to me just said, "What. The fuck."
[Time passes...]
Okay, I am back from lunch now. I had some chicken thing. So I got my check from Personnel Express, and it is only like $320. That's great. I still owe Mer for my bike. What a pain. I better get a fucking job soon. I am learning shell-scripting now; maybe that will make my resume more attractive. But we are going to have to cut some fucking costs, that is for sure. It's kind of depressing, even. Okay, time to publish.
Saturday, July 05, 2003
"I obscenity in the milk of my shame."
Happy independence day, sheep.
The fireworks were pretty incredible. Emma and I watched them from a roof in Brooklyn Heights; it was the closest I'd ever been. I think my favorite ones were the little gold and white ones that kind of make a small cloud of glitter in the air -- like little bouquets of flowers, even. We tried to figure out which one was the "Path of Gold" or "Golden Shower" or whatever NPR was calling it. I think I know which one it was, and it was a pretty sweet piece of work: Two or three typical big exploding rockets that left an unusual number of long-lasting, glittery streamers as they went down. Before doing that, though, I went to a little party at Katie's house in Pelham and ate burgers and stromboli and drank Corona beers while Katie's brother Andrew set off garage-type fireworks. There was this one that they had like 10 of that would spin around really fast and make this steam whistle noise as it shot out sparks, and then all of a sudden about 20 little flashes and pops would go off in the air within a five-foot radius of it: The thing spits out smaller, invisible fireworks as it spins. It's like a particularly cruel, sparkly mine.
I have a job interview at a company called DataSynapse. I hate this company because it is one of those ones where you can't tell what they do. I think they host distributed computing clusters for researchers, but they don't seem to have that many contracts -- like, they only mention three people they've worked for, and they have a special "Awards" section on their web site, but they've only won one award. They have a big irritating corporate web site with all these stupid pictures but they are clearly not a big deal. And the job is like testing database efficiency. That sounds real fun. I guess I'm kind of dreading it because they're going to ask me more of those fucking think-on-your-feet brainteasers. Maybe I will just say, "Look, I'm a good programmer, I have a college degree (a B.S., mind you), let's just talk about something else." I also applied for the SparkNotes position. My dad called and said I got a letter from CUNY -- probably a Dear John; they would have called if they wanted to interview.
I got something posted on matrixessays.blogspot.com. That may not be terribly difficult, I don't know.
I watched these:
I'm re-writing the autoconf schemas for Arianne so that they check versions and so that Arianne supports the new stable version of the Lua scripting language (apparently, most of the Lua functionality that Arianne uses got altered / removed in Lua 5.0). Autoconf is behaving in a typical, hair-pulling fashion; apparently AC_DEFINE doesn't work within a user-defined autoconf macro -- you have to pass it as an argument, like the action to be taken if x is true. I won't even go into how long it took me to figure out that you can't put whitespace before the macro name and the open-parenth. Chalk it up to not being willing to read the manual. Suck balls.
The fireworks were pretty incredible. Emma and I watched them from a roof in Brooklyn Heights; it was the closest I'd ever been. I think my favorite ones were the little gold and white ones that kind of make a small cloud of glitter in the air -- like little bouquets of flowers, even. We tried to figure out which one was the "Path of Gold" or "Golden Shower" or whatever NPR was calling it. I think I know which one it was, and it was a pretty sweet piece of work: Two or three typical big exploding rockets that left an unusual number of long-lasting, glittery streamers as they went down. Before doing that, though, I went to a little party at Katie's house in Pelham and ate burgers and stromboli and drank Corona beers while Katie's brother Andrew set off garage-type fireworks. There was this one that they had like 10 of that would spin around really fast and make this steam whistle noise as it shot out sparks, and then all of a sudden about 20 little flashes and pops would go off in the air within a five-foot radius of it: The thing spits out smaller, invisible fireworks as it spins. It's like a particularly cruel, sparkly mine.
I have a job interview at a company called DataSynapse. I hate this company because it is one of those ones where you can't tell what they do. I think they host distributed computing clusters for researchers, but they don't seem to have that many contracts -- like, they only mention three people they've worked for, and they have a special "Awards" section on their web site, but they've only won one award. They have a big irritating corporate web site with all these stupid pictures but they are clearly not a big deal. And the job is like testing database efficiency. That sounds real fun. I guess I'm kind of dreading it because they're going to ask me more of those fucking think-on-your-feet brainteasers. Maybe I will just say, "Look, I'm a good programmer, I have a college degree (a B.S., mind you), let's just talk about something else." I also applied for the SparkNotes position. My dad called and said I got a letter from CUNY -- probably a Dear John; they would have called if they wanted to interview.
I got something posted on matrixessays.blogspot.com. That may not be terribly difficult, I don't know.
I watched these:
- How To Lose A Guy In 10 Days: Predictable. Bad
- The Truth About Tully: Slow, but good. And it comes with a short film at the beginning (instead of previews) that stars Nina and George from 24, as well as Sandra Bernhard
I'm re-writing the autoconf schemas for Arianne so that they check versions and so that Arianne supports the new stable version of the Lua scripting language (apparently, most of the Lua functionality that Arianne uses got altered / removed in Lua 5.0). Autoconf is behaving in a typical, hair-pulling fashion; apparently AC_DEFINE doesn't work within a user-defined autoconf macro -- you have to pass it as an argument, like the action to be taken if x is true. I won't even go into how long it took me to figure out that you can't put whitespace before the macro name and the open-parenth. Chalk it up to not being willing to read the manual. Suck balls.
Tuesday, July 01, 2003
West of the East and East of the West
Well, we finally got our DSL hooked up. I guess that means we have enlisted in the thick-framed glasses hipster gentrification army, but so be it. I still have to run the cable through the wall the way I want it: I think I'm going to drill a couple of holes with this big masonry bit I got at wonderful, wonderful Flatbush Hardware and then run a little RJ11/12 through one and some RJ45 through the other and attach the appropriate face-plates to either side. So when you plug a cable into both sides, it'll be like there's a line through the wall. Inspired, I know. Look, it's just going to be neater, okay?
Speaking of gentrification, the New York Times is running a story titled "Still Positively Fourth Street," about the way that street's changed over the years. Surprise surprise everybody turned into a rich asshole. From the article:
Okay, so one of the secretaries just came by and warned me that the banker for whom I am working, who was out in Chicago yesterday, has "a very big personality." I think that means she's an asshole, but maybe she means that part of this woman's brain, say, the social hippocampus, is bulging out of the front of her skull, a la Total Recall or Fist of the North Star. Or maybe she's just fat.
To help me remember, here are the jobs I think I'll apply for today:
Speaking of gentrification, the New York Times is running a story titled "Still Positively Fourth Street," about the way that street's changed over the years. Surprise surprise everybody turned into a rich asshole. From the article:
"Every neighborhood that gets famous gets commercialized,'' said Mr. Shapiro of Social Tees. "It's the nature of capitalism."Forget the fact that Social Tees, for all its low-budget charm, is not quite a member of the old guard of home-brew Village mercantilism that the author of the article seems to love so much; the guy's pretty much right. So what can we do about it? It's simple: Boycott stuff you like. No, I'm serious. Too much enjoyment is what's ruined The Public's Shakespeare in the Park, Saturday Night Live, and the Internet, and it stands poised, at this very moment, to ruin Credit Seuss Foist Boston.
Okay, so one of the secretaries just came by and warned me that the banker for whom I am working, who was out in Chicago yesterday, has "a very big personality." I think that means she's an asshole, but maybe she means that part of this woman's brain, say, the social hippocampus, is bulging out of the front of her skull, a la Total Recall or Fist of the North Star. Or maybe she's just fat.
To help me remember, here are the jobs I think I'll apply for today:
- WNET Production Assistant & PHP Guy
- SparkNotes Lead Programmer
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