When I told RockGirl that I'd gotten a permanent job offer today, and that I'd accepted it, she replied with, "Yay, I guess."

By the way, I italicized that word above because, as I learned a little over a year ago, permanent doesn't really mean what people think it means.

Anyway, I knew exactly what RockGirl meant.

After exhaustive research, I have determined that money is a good thing to have. But, another thing that's good to have is tons of freedom.

Sometimes, you can't have them both. Sometimes, you have to choose.

And, since my grand lottery plan never did work out, I had to choose. I chose money, and everything that comes with money. Food, housing, etc.

Plus, I'm really excited about this job. I know, everybody says that, but I really am.

Today is moving day at work.

They're taking my entire (IT) department and moving us downtown, and today is my team's turn.

I've been looking forward to the move, for various reasons, not the least of which is that I'll be closer to MixedSignalGirl. So we could do lunch or whatever if we ever get our collective shit together.

I'm not exactly holding my breath though.

Anyway, I'm still sitting at home right now. No sense rushing in to work at the crack of 8:00 when none of my stuff has been moved to the new building yet. So I've been working on some security documentation. It's just incredibly fun stuff. Not.

Remember a while back when I wrote that my wants were wandering aimlessly because my needs had been met? The problem with that is that I knew my wants would fixate on the first thing they bumped in to. Yeah, well that's happened now. It kinda sucks, but I'm used to it.

I wasn't going to mention this at all.

I almost made it. I almost made it to the point where it would be old news, not worthy of an entry.

Almost.

But then, I figured, you guys have already seen me at my absolute worst, yet still some of you remain unrepulsed.

So a reminder is in order.

A reminder of my stupidity.

Got a new server at work last week. I think it was Wednesday. I do my Solaris installations over the network. It is 2006 after all. Installation CDs are so last century.

Anyway, I ran through all of the steps needed to make sure that the boot/installation server was running properly and that it was ready for the new equipment.

• I added the new MAC address to the NIS ethers database.
• Same thing with the IP address in the NIS hosts database.
• I made sure that all of the Solaris 10 CD images were mounted and shared properly.
• I created the proper TFTP entries.
• I had the network people configure the new server's switch port for auto/auto and had them put in the correct VLAN.

Wrong.

I rackmounted the new server, connected its network and console cabling, opened a terminal to the console port, and fired it up.

Watching the boot/installation server's logfiles and snoop output, I saw the RARPs go out from the new server. I saw the proper responses given. Then I watched the TFTP transfer of the boot image take place.

Everything was going very smoothly.

But then, then the new server installation failed with the message Unable to mount remote filesystem.

WTF?

I logged into another server on the network and verified that the installation CD images were indeed mountable. They were, so that wasn't the problem. So why couldn't the new server mount the fucking things?

I must have tried for four hours to get the new server to install. I even killed the rpc.bootparamd and tftpd and mountd processes and restarted them in debug mode, hoping that would shed some light on the problem.

Well, it did, in a way.

The problem was me.

It wasn't so much the output that I was seeing, it was what I wasn't seeing.

I wasn't seeing the boot/install server even trying to share out those CD images.

Finally, I figured it out.

See, up until a month or so ago, I'd used another server for Solaris installations. Up until about a month ago, another server had possesion of the IP address handed out by the rpc.bootparamd service.

And that other server, because it had access to the same NIS ethers database as the current boot/installation server, that other server was actually the one trying to serve up the Solaris CD images. Problem was, of course, that this other server didn't have access to those images anymore - they'd been migrated over to the new boot/install server along with the IP address used to identify the boot/installation server!

Duh.

So I killed the rpc.bootparamd process on the old server, and everything went as planned from that point on. The new server installed correctly. No thanks to me.

That's four hours out of my life that I'd really like to get back.

Back to work today.

Yes, that's right, work.

People back in Louisville give me shit about going to these things, like they're nothing more than a free vacation.

Well there is that.

But the people who've attended these conferences never give me any shit. They know better. Days filled with often boring presentations are just as tiring as doing the so-called "real work" I'd be doing back home.

Having said that - If the thing was in Des Moines or some other boring city, I wouldn't be here.

After nine hours of sessions today, I'm going to take a nap to make sure that I'm nice and refreshed for my big date.

That's right, I have a date tonight. So ha ha.

I hate Mondays soooooooo much.

But this one just got a little tiny bit better. Maybe even a lot better.

I came in this morning and checked my calendar and saw that the entire afternoon was full of stupid meetings.

Imagine, if you will, my glee when I checked my calendar again just now and saw that all of the stupid useless meetings were last Monday, and that I have this afternoon open.

Yay!

Throughout history, there have been some pretty good ideas:

• Sex


• Beer


• Reese's Peanut Butter Cups


• Porn Lesbians


• Those spinny things on car wheels that keep spinning even when the car has stopped

For the month of November, we can buy, for a mere $1.00 per day, the right to lose our stupid ties and our even stupider dry-clean-only pants. For a mere $1.00 per day, we can wear casual clothes to work.

But wait! It gets even better!

For the additional paltry sum of $15.00, we can wear actual denim to work on each Friday during the month!

We can actually be comfortable, and actually look good, at work of all places!

I may just piss myself.

This is a picture of the controllers for one of our storage arrays at work.

It's broken, so I'm still at work waiting to see if it can be repaired.

We had this work thing today at Louisville's Fourth Street Live. Specifically at the Lucky Strike bowling lanes and the poolhall Felt.

I suppose that, as these offsite meetings go, this one was okay. I can always think of about a zillion real things I could be working on instead of attending these day-long meetings.

During the lunch break several people grabbed a pool table and started playing 8-ball amongst themselves. I got my own table and started banking balls in. Even with the crappy house cue, the dismal lighting, the large stains on the cloth consisting of I don't want to know what, and the fact that the entire table leaned heavily to one side, I found that it's surprisingly difficult to miss a bank shot on an eight foot table.

Most of the people that know me at work know that I'm a pool player, and that I'm a pretty good one. I'm not sure that they grasp just how good compared to them, or that if there was any money in it at all for a player at my level I'd hang up my keyboard and make my living doing something I love instead of something I merely enjoy.

I heard some people talking today, making little comments about how I was playing by myself and wondering if everyone was just too scared to play me. These comments were all made jokingly and everybody got a good laugh out of it, including me. But nobody came over to my table.

If all they're wanting is a chance to win, then they did well to stay away. If winning is what's most important to them, they shouldn't get within ten feet of me and a pool table.

I understand the desire to win. I've seen it often enough, felt it often enough. I just never let it take away from the simple enjoyment of playing. Those times when I found myself outmatched and I lost, I still enjoyed every minute of it. Those times when I knew going in that I wasn't likely to win - I still played. To avoid the competition because of a fear of losing - what's the fun in that?

Maybe part of the reason for my ability to enjoy myself is that I've generally been pretty good at whatever I do. Better than average I guess you could say.

Darts. Horseshoes. Shooting baskets. Bowling.

Bowling was the team-building portion of the offsite meeting. We split up into teams and bowled all these crazy frames; opposite handed, granny style, backwards granny style, blindfolded, etc.

Those were the odd-numbered frames. The even-numbered frames were real bowling.

Back when I was in the Air Force, we'd take a Friday off each month and just go bowl together. We always had a lot of fun, even without all of the goofy-assed odd-numbered frame restrictions. I wish we'd done that today. Just bowled.

So I scored a 91. My even-numbered frames probably made up 75 of those points. My odd-numbered frames were fairly useless. If I'm figuring things correctly I'd have bowled a 165 or so if the whole game had been normal bowling. I used to average about 185 in my Air Force days, but I'd certainly take a 165 considering how I've bowled about 10 games in the last 13 years.

I mentioned a while back that this Lucky Strike place has Smithwick's on tap. I had two, and they were delicious. Everybody else was using their drink tickets to get drinks made with our company's products, but I paid for my own beer. People told me that I should use my drink tickets - nobody would care - but I would care so I bought my own beers.

Just wanted to write something today. This is a pretty boring entry I guess.

Oh yeah I stopped at Rich O's on the way home and had a Spezial Rauchbier. Tried to text-message RealTrainGirl to see if she was stopping by but got no answer.

Just some stuff about my day. I'm killing time until Lost gets tivoed enough that I can watch it and skip all the commercials.

By the way, if you're not watching Lost, then you're missing out on a great show.

Scratch that - if you're not watching Lost then you suck.

Anyway, today for work we had to do some bullshit.

I've often said that while I don't consider myself especially smart, I do think that a lot of other people are idiots.

After today, I see no reason to revise that assertion.

One good thing about work today was that I got to have a Newcastle Brown Ale during lunch. Yummy and anyone *cough* Roger *cough* that thinks otherwise is obviously so far up the ladder of beer snobbery that there is little hope for common ground between us.

After work I went to Rich O's and had one of the last NABC Noble Smokers, maybe forever. No, I haven't sworn off beer, it's just that they're on their last keg and I remain pessimistic about this fine smoked beer ever coming back.

As I was getting ready to leave Rich O's I saw, lo and behold, that RealTrainGirl and MisunderstoodGirl had come in with GreenBeerDude. I had myself a Diet Coke and did some catching up. The girls are having a party the day after I return from Las Vegas (but that's not the reason, silly) so I'll need to stretch my good-mood goal out one extra day to the 21st.

I think I can do it.

Got home and checked out my new garage door opener. No more hernias for me from opening the door on my detached garage. Yay!

I guess that's it.

Today I scheduled myself a couple of trips for work-related conferences.

The first one is in Las Vegas in May, and I'm going to take a couple of days of vacation so I can finally visit the Grand Canyon.

The second trip, in June, is in Orlando. That will be cool because I've never been to Florida. I wish Orlando was closer to water though.

I almost never ever write anything about work here.

It's partly because I don't want to become another Queen of Sky but the main reason is that it's just not very interesting stuff.

I mean, writing about the beer I drink or the shows I watch on my personal time becomes simply mesmerizing when you start comparing it to things like how many hardware quotes I requested or how many spreadsheets I updated at work.

Sent out quote requests for the new Oracle servers today. I only gave the vendors three days to respond this time, but it's a pretty simple order. Somebody's hair is on fire about replacing these servers so I'm trying to speed up the process as much as I can. I always get quotes from several vendors but I pretty much always know ahead of time who's going to come back with the lowest price.

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Where was I?

Oh yeah, work.

I'm so buried in paperwork that just about the only technology I touch anymore is this here keyboard. I do get to have fun when new equipment comes in, and when old equipment goes out, but for the most part my days are spent crunching numbers and researching new technologies and justifying expenditures and plotting project timelines and attending meetings.

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Huh? Wha?

Oh, sorry.

So, when a rare chance to actually get my hands dirty arises, I jump all over it.

Like today, when I found that I was no longer able to talk to some equipment. We'd recently replaced a broken component and, apparently, we got the cables screwed up in the process.

Anxious to do some "real work" I grabbed a Fluke and made my way into the datacenter.

The Fluke consists of a couple of small pieces of orangey-yellow equipment. You connect the doohickey part to a network cable, and then you use the thingabob part to find the other end of the cable. The thingabob emits a tone when it's over the right cable, so this is called "toning out" a connection.

At least that's the way it's supposed to work. That's the way it works for everyone but me.

The way it works for me is that one of three things happens:

1. The thingabob starts making noise as soon as I enter the room and doesn't shut up until I leave.

2. The thingabob refuses to make a single sound no matter how much I beg.

3. The doohickey breaks as soon as I turn it on.

This is all eerily reminiscent of my younger days when I'd fry a new watch within a few days of owning it.

I have a magnetic personality, you see.

Some sensitive technology just doesn't like me, and that's just the cross I have to bear. And it may be getting worse. I've been spending so much time with paperwork that people are actually starting to doubt My Technical Supremacy.

There are even threats (made in jest, at least for now) that my datacenter access will be revoked if I continue down this path of ever-increasing administrative work.

I can envision a day when lights will dim when I enter a room. People with pacemakers will clutch at their chest and keel over. Planes will fall from the sky when I go outside to check my mail.

Eventually, I figure, the government will kidnap me, dissect me, study me, to find the secret of my power and use it as a weapon.

Did you hear about Tehran? They got Siltzed back to the stone age.

Eventually, my powers will spiral out of control, wiping out all of the progress we've made over the centuries, and a new Golden Age of Man will ensue. One unencumbered by the shackles of technology. All living things will exist in harmony.

And you'll have me to thank for your newfound paradise. But you'll have to thank me in person, because e-mail and telephones won't be working anymore.

Yesterday for work we went to the zoo.

It was the first time I'd been there in a while. I guess I've become a little uneasy about the whole idea of keeping all these animals on display for our amusement.

I know, I know, we also get to study them, learn to appreciate them, and in many cases, help to save them from extinction.

Extinction that we're causing.

It's the apes that make me the saddest. Their faces are capable of showing all these emotions, and the only emotion to see at the zoo is sadness. Sadness at being trapped. Sadness at being stared at, pointed at. Even the ones born and raised in captivity are sad - they just don't know why because they don't know anything different.

At least on a conscious level - or whatever passes for a conscious level in apes - they don't know what they're missing but they know they're missing something.

I don't know, I guess I think that by taking these animals from where they belong, we're taking a lot more than just their freedom. We get to look at them, and study them, but we're only seeing their physical being. The rest of them, their wildness, their spirit, their soul if you will, is long gone.

If it ever had a chance to exist at all.

Now, after writing this, I feel like a hypocrite because I've got three cats that never get to leave the house.

It's for their own good, I keep telling myself.

People at work give me a hard time about my Post-Its.

They're all important though. Really.

Went to a little project completion party at Louisville's new Lucky Strike Lanes today.

We bowled three games.

It didn't suck as much as I'd expected. There were several people from HR and PR that I didn't know - and couple that I kinda wish I did know.

I actually won the first game with a pretty shitty score, and I think I might have tied for second in the second game.

Oh yeah, the place had Smithwick's on tap. That was a pleasant surprise so I had three of them.

To leave the parking lot at work in the morning you have to push a button. Once you push the button you have to open a metal gate and then walk across the street.

Because pushing the button and opening the gate is hard or something people are in the habit of checking behind them, and if anyone is following closely, holding the gate open for them.

Notice I said closely.

This morning I was a good 20 yards away from gate (crossing the tracks for those familiar with where I'm talking about) and this lady up ahead decided to stand there, holding the gate open, until I arrived.

Now the lady was obviously trying to be nice and polite, but what she was also inadvertantly doing was asking me to speed up, perhaps jog a little, to get to the gate and be all grateful and shit.

I was 20 yards away. She was being polite to the point of rudeness.

I didn't speed up to grab the gate and thank her. I did the next best thing.

I stopped, bent over, and pretended to tie my shoelace.

This took about 20 seconds, and when I stood back up I was pretty miffed to see that she was still standing there holding the gate!

Great, so now I not only had to run up to the gate and be all grateful, I also had to apologize for "tying" my shoelace.

I didn't do those things either. I patted my pockets, pretended to have left something in my car, turned around and walked the other way.

I was glad to see that she was gone from the gate when I returned with the "forgotten item" or I may have had to kiil her.

After, of course, I thanked her for being so damn polite and patient.

Just when I manage to convince myself that I am indeed losing weight through some mysterious means some guy at work puts up a picture of me looking like a lardass.

stalk
v. tr.
1. To follow or observe (a person) persistently, especially out of obsession or derangement.

At 12:25 today I sent out the following message to my co-workers:

I have twelve bottles of one.6 Chardonnay. I'll give a bottle each to the first twelve people to tell me the names of my three cats.

Hint: Google is your friend.

At 12:33 all twelve bottles had been won, and I had another half-dozen or so correct entries that came in too late.

I think a few of the winners may have been a little too fast - like they already had the information memorized or something.

Scary.

A conversation I overheard today:

PetaGirl: That's just so mean the way they treat those chickens!

InstigatorGuy: Well what about cotton plants? They hack those plants up just to make your clothes.

PetaGirl: But that's different!

InstigatorGuy: Why is it different? Plants are alive too you know.

PetaGirl: But they can't talk!

At a meeting today that I didn't attend because I had too much real work to do I won an award for my help in a recent server upgrade project.

While I was quite happy to win the award, I nearly creamed when I learned that with the award came an extra $250 in my next paycheck.

Hooray! Now I can fill my truck up with gas! Maybe.

At a meeting today at work, I noticed this handwritten entry in my notebook:

I have no idea what this means.

I haven't been to work for nine days but it's all over now. This is just a regular Sunday where I have to make sure that I get my laundry done in time for tomorrow.

I find myself sitting here, listening to the little ice pellets hitting my office window, and hoping against hope that we'll get a foot or so of ice accumulation so I can take an extra day off.

My sleep schedule is almost completely upside-down after the past week. If I can get through today without taking a nap I may be able to get back on track. Otherwise I'll be really suffering at work.

I can't believe that Cutie Pie* would do this to me.

She door dinged me. I had just arrived at work, and was still in my car getting my things together, when she pulled in next to me and opened her driver's door right into my passenger door! It was really a pretty good thumping, and when I turned to look, Cutie Pie just smiled at me, closed her door, and took off across the parking lot.

This is certainly not the first door ding on my Intrepid, but it's the first one I've witnessed while it happened.

Because that door already had several dings It's not like I'd want her to pay for the damages or anything. One thing I would have liked, however, would have been an "I'm sorry" or even an "Oops." I guess she figures that, because she is so cute, she can get away with this rude behaviour.

And the fact is that she can, at least with me and my Intrepid. Had it been my Monte Carlo I'd have asked for some type of immediate payment. Perhaps I'd have let her "work it off" if you know what I mean.

* - not her real name

"We can't just keep shutting this company down."

Funniest thing I've heard in a long time.

Maybe you had to be there.