Holeee Crap!

.... and that's it. Today! I mean - all the boxes are even in the new place!

Woah. I feel /sore/. And tired. And wanna /sleep/.

So - let's take stock, here on the crazy day that's crazy with craziness:

  • Moved into the new apartment. Mostly. We might even get to sleep there tonight! WOO!
  • New job. Very cool job. Very strange job. Like very much, can't wait to get settled and get 'turned loose' - training periods always make me twitchy anyway. But so it goes. One will survive them and go, and the trainer is rawkin', so. Ya know.
  • Dumping a car. The Brown Beast Of Burden needs to /go/. It's just a matter of time, now: we get even /one/ of the commuter scooters? The beast is /gone/. Finito. Pooft. Probably donated, written off, and a three-day vacation. Glee.

    Need to (in no particular order):

  • Get the machines up to get back online, check on Chia, and do victory tax stuff before they stick me with another bill.
  • Get a really /hoss/ key cut by a professional. Ugh.
  • Talk to the management company about a storage unit. Preferably today.
  • Pick up bike! Glee! Riding!
  • Get a bed frame. A cheap one that'll just /do/ for a little.
  • Get the network up! RAAAR.
  • Move the cats.
  • Grocery. Shopping. Mmmph.

    And.. .it's a birfday. too much work for a birfday. Is it /wrong/ that I want to sleep today, really? Like.. instead of party?

    Am I just /old?/ Yeek.

  • stand-up



    We've packed the truck, loaded the storage unit, and now collapse exhausted on the couch - but I can tell you that I've learned quite a few things this move that I, in my wisdom, thought to share with all of you:

    - U-Haul has a moving service. Two guys, three hours, a couple hundred bucks. Best money I've ever spent -they had my truck packed in an hour and a half, and the storage unit done in 15 minutes. And nothing in the truck /moved/ on the trip!

    Holycrap. Best money I've ever spent on a move. Better than forearm forklifts and appliance dollies. WOot!

    - When they say 'free upgrade!' and gas is $3.65 a gallon? Don't take it. Fight tooth and nail /not/ to take it. $300 in /gas/ for a move /sucks/.

    - When they tell you 'don't back up with a tow dolly!' (your car being hauled on trailer by its front wheels)... they're. Uh. Not kidding.

    - In fact, in Alabama, make /sure/ you're turning into the actual lot of the gas station, instead of a road that is barely qualified as a two-lane highway and, in fact, has warning signs about gated communities. Warning sign! Seriously!

    - When you see a warning sign about a gated community? They mean it. And the gate? It's locked.

    - You /can/ turn a 26 foot truck around on a road barely seventeen feet wide.. provided you take the car and the tow dolly off the back first and make a seventy-eight point turn. (I counted).

    - The only thing you can hear on the radio in the vasty distance between cities remains country music stations. And christian radio. Which has some really cool radio shows in the old-timey way, even if they are preachy. Huh.

    - You can follow a single country station from Gulf Shores, AL to Birmingham, AL.. and it's in montgomery. That's a /seriously/ powerful radio station.

    - The sixth time you hear any given Nickelback song? You realize every last one really /does/ sound the same. Go figure. I mean.. /exactly the same/. There's like.. no difference at all.

    - Nine hours in a heavy truck makes your right leg very, very sore.

    Aaaand.. that's all I got for now. :)

    Time! It's a Gaaas -

    I wish I had more time - but I don't. Those who say time isn't our most precious commodity are fooling themselves, honestly. What else do you really have? Everything converts from time. Absolutely everything.

    Just like the Sun is the source of all energy on this planet, ultimately speaking, time is the ultimate source of everything that happens in your life. Spending time is what matters in your existence. It's why the phrase, "It'll just be a moment of your time" grates on me. Just? JUST? That's a moment I could spend on something - anything - else other than talking to you (usually a telemarketer or a salesman), and likely get more out of the experience. My minutes are precious, how dare you demand I spend them on listening about insurance or hearing you natter on on the telephone?

    We recognize on some fundamental level just how important time really is, how often the clock ticks. In our culture, 'Spending Time' with your loved ones is considered a worthy action; more, we have deep cultural taboos about wasting other people's time or being an imposition. We have a facination with it - watches and clocks and measuring devices all inexorably marching forward.

    I don't think, however, that we often examine our own lives with any sort of real depth to determine the value of how we spend our own time. A subjective thing at best, we always spend time on what intrigues us, what interests us, what seems worthy at that moment. You can tell a lot about someone by what they spend their time doing, and how they handle time in those moments of necessity (like work). But.. never assume that someone doing something they enjoy doing is wasting time, even if what they enjoy doesn't ping your meter as being worth spending time on.

    Subjective value judgements. For them, it is. My father believes watching a movie more than once is a waste of time. That doesn't make it so.

    So. To get the measure of an individual - watch closely what they spend time doing, but be careful how you judge it.

    Geeek! Geekgeekgeek..

    It came out a bit earlier in the month, but Ubuntu Hardy Heron is live and in-da-house.

    Now, most of y'all know that I'm a huge Open Source junkie, and I've been using Ubuntu instead of Windows for quite a while (and have only glowing praise, as a rule). With this major upgrade, I've got even more.

    The upgrade itself went well - no troubles except the usual 'revert to default on sound' which always discombobulates me and takes me a couple of minutes to remember how to fix - and the fix is as simple as making a few selections in a dropdown to make sure my digital speakers are working. Heh. So far, the processor load is less, the memory leak is gone, and Firefox 3 lives up to expectations as being a vast improvement.

    Kudos again to Canoninical - and a fabulous and easy upgrade process. So. Uh. Why aren't you people using ubuntu again?


    For Men: The OBP.

    Okay - so I've spent the morning, rather than doing constructive make-a-paycheck work, trying to wrap my head around something that, well, let's be honest, most of us guys have trouble with on our best days. You can get all up in the controversy that sparked it all here, in a thing the author calls "The Open Source Boob Project".

    In the interest of academic honesty - I'm going to say that in the first read through, I didn't much see a problem. Here's a guy who went to a con, likely had a bit too much to drink, and like lankylad and I have on occasion - got carried away with what is ultimately a very silly idea. Mind you, most of our silly ideas revolved around poetry, but.. they were very, very silly. The man-part of me also looked at it and went, "dude. You like, got to touch boobies, too." Given the company I usually run with at Cons, this whole thing was something I read in the light of.. 'okay. Haha. Whatever.'

    But the controversy caught my attention. Women on my friends list all through livejournal have been expressing extreme opinions over this guy all morning. So me? Being the fellow I am, I start digging in. First, by posting some commentary, then by asking questions - then by trying to get as much of the story as I can. There's got to be something more here than a childish bit of groping, right? Turns out.. there is.

    It's interesting when you're enlightened to something that is so polarized among the sexes.

    So - this post is intended to be an attempt to try to explain to fellows who - like me - aren't really seeing the problem here (at first) just what the problem is, and where this guy is a bit off the rails.

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