Archive for September, 2007
Koo-koo! Koo-koo!

I wish, just once, I could refresh my blog and be surprised with a new entry.

When I was five, my parents asked me what I wanted for my sixth birthday. I told them I wanted a Surprise Party. Think about that for a moment, and then consider how awesome my parents are that they pulled it off. I got my surprise party. My dad and I rode our bicycles around areas of Bartow that I’d never been to before, which distracted me during the time leading up to the party.  The party itself was at Ritchie’s Northern Pizza (yes, my love for pizza is over two decades old.) They took me there for dinner and all of my friends were hiding under the tables in the restaurant. It was awesome; my parents were, and are, awesome.

I’m still optimistically refreshing for that unexpected blog post, though.


I just found this post on my SU page, originally titled (and dated) Jan 8, 2006 3:40am:

I just spent seven straight hours providing technical supervision over two sites that were trying to accomplish something. It didn’t go well. I had the following conversation several times:

me: Ok, ::site A::, without changing any settings on anything, please tell me what the current value of ::setting B:: is on ::equipment C::. I’m serious about not changing anything. No, really.

site A: Ok, we broke out the D&D dice, rolled a new value for ::setting Q:: and entered it on ::equipment J,R,Z and 5:: as you directed. Now our coffee maker doesn’t beep anymore when you press the buttons. Woof! I’m a cow.

me: Don’t make me come down there.

site A: huh? what did *we* do?

site B: hey, are we site L or site M? I forget.

me: hey, do you mind if I curl up under my desk and cry quietly to myself for about three days?

my supervisor: ahh, what the hell. go ahead.

When someone says that a relaxing massage or a quiet drink takes “the edge off,” what has its edge removed? I don’t know, but the last seven hours put an ugly, sharp, jagged edge onto it for me.

Keep in mind that these were Army satellite communication sites. “Army Strong.” Nobody said anything about “Army Smart.”

The title, for those not in the know, means, “Put a qualified operator on the line.”

We’ve got spaghetti! And…

Blankets is a graphic novel by Craig Thompson. I started rereading it today during the last few moments of my lunch break and finished it just now.

I could probably recommend it enough, but assuming medical science isn’t going to let either of us live past 200 years old, neither you nor I have enough time. Got a little carried away there; sometimes my praise gets away from me. It’s a fine story and the art matches it well. I’ll leave it at that. Many aspects of the story evoke strikingly similar memories of my own childhood and adolescence, so for me it’s particularly poignant.

For example, Craig relates how he and his brother would walk atop iced-over snow as far as possible without breaking through the crust. I did the *exact* same thing on the sand around Crooked Lake (Lake Calusa, officially) when I was a kid. The sun would dry a similar crust onto the beach after a rain, and I would try (and often succeed for a while) to walk across it without breaking through.

Snuggled up with Torment

I’ve been lamenting the lack of quality in recent games for the last couple of weeks. I keep coming back, in my head, to Planescape: Torment, the best game I’ve ever played.

I realized that I don’t need to pine for it. I can play it.

So I just installed it, and even before I start it for the first time, I’ve done all the little things to make the experience more pleasant. I’ve copied all the files from each of the CDs to the install directory and redirected the game’s config file to look there. I’ve official patched, unofficial patched and addon-to-unofficial patched. I didn’t turn Annah into a leprechaun yet, but I’ve got the files necessary to do so and I’m reserving the right.

I’ve dimmed the lights. I’ve consumed enough caffiene to stun a water buffalo.

I’m ready to become… Nameless.


Everything that’s right is wrong again

I was at the doctor a couple of days ago for my separation physical, and at one point in the interview the doctor said, “Oh, you’re the one with the 908 triglycerides. I was waiting for you to come in.”

“Oh, great,” I unenthused, “I’m famous.”

Apparently the diet that my regular doctor has had me on to try to help me lose weight has taken me down the road towards diabetes. The new diet prescribed by this new doctor is pretty much diametrically opposite from the previous one. So my diet is now high-carb, and I’m really hoping I don’t end up with diabetes. My weight? Well, high-carb isn’t exactly the modern dieter’s friend, but avoiding diabetes trumps rapid weight loss. Also, there’s a good chance that getting my dietary shit (so to speak) together will help me lose weight, anyway.

So, yeah, there goes at least six months of dietary effort down the drain. Dammit.

Shocked, I tell you!

This game has forever secured it’s place in my heart directly below Planescape: Torment, and slightly above other long-time favorites such as Fallout 1 & 2 and the Thief series.

spoiler warning spoiler warning spoiler warning spoiler warning

I just completed BioShock. When the end arrived, I found myself crying a bit in relief that the ordeal was finally over.