Category: Travel and Acronyms

January 2, 2004 /

As today’s Stone Soup points out, it’s actually pretty silly to even think about working today, but for some reason I did, and dragged myself out of bed at 6:30 just as normal. It was a little strange to be one of like four (as opposed to eighty) people waiting for an elevator, and a little stranger when all the lights on our part of the floor were deliberately off. When I read that comic strip and waited an hour and still only tech support was there, I took off like one of the wiser characters in a survival horror movie.

After that I mostly… slept? And played Double Dash. Maria got a GameCube for Christmas, so unless she bans me from using it I’ll probably never accomplish anything worthwhile again. We actually unlocked almost everything on New Year’s Eve, along with our stay-in-and-snack companion Lisa, but we lacked a memory card at that point and were bereft of saving ability. I got one of those on the aforementioned trip home from work today, so now we get to do it all again. This is a fine and noble thing.

Tonight it’s out to dinner at some fancy place where they make you eat so slowly that it takes two hours to finish the soup, then Strizzle Lizzle rehizzle, and finally sometime after midnight Ian and I will drive to the hinterlands and crash (as in sleep, not… hit things). The next morning, we and forty of our closest relatives will race tiny cars down a track for eight hours until one emerges supreme. Seriously. We’ve been doing it every year since before I was born.

November 8, 2003 /

Last week, I got out of class and went to the glass-walled bus stop, where somebody had put a shopping cart through one side and left it where it stopped. I wish I’d had my camera, I could have won something. It was a whole story in itself: shelter, cart inside it, pile of safety shards.

Actually that probably wasn’t the whole story, but still.

November 3, 2003 /

Caitlan was here over the weekend, and I wasn’t a very good host, but it was good to hang out with her again. I’d like to say we went to the circus and fought ninjas, but actually we mostly did homework. We did have some bright spots, though, including Caitlan’s cooking of the first fried green tomatoes I’ve actually liked, and Caitlan’s assistance of Ian and me in our attempt to buy wedding clothes–a grueling journey that involved going to one store, then going to another store right next to it. Okay, it wasn’t actually grueling. It’s harder to find dress shirts with French cuffs than you’d think, though.

Caitlan is doing very well at Georgetown, on track to go to Oxford (Oxford!) for a couple of years, like I never got to do. In fact, she’s already been once, though only for a week. I instructed her over the weekend on the fact that, if she does go and gets the accompanying degree, she’s allowed to trump basically any argument against her by saying “Ah ah! Oxford.” It is also street legal to respond to any attempt at countering this trump with a back-handed slap.

October 17, 2003 /

I was going to write this into something else, but hell, it’s a vaguely embarrassing anecdote, let’s put it in the blog.

The summer after I graduated high school, my sister declared her intention to move into my slightly larger room while I was gone, in Brazil. I was pretty much hapless in this, since I was going to be moving out soon anyway, and so was made a part of the collective clean-and-pack-both-rooms initiative. There was a lot of stuff, because while I’m mildly materialistic, my sister is a voracious packrat.

While getting down to the bottom of her closet, as Caitlan and Mom temporarily went to get something downstairs, I came upon what appeared to be a Magic Eye puzzle. Magic Eyes are (were) stereograms hidden in computer-generated texture patterns; if you stare at them while unfocusing your eyes just right, a 3-d image pops into view.

This one was a mostly purple square, not part of a puzzle book or anything, just lying around. I didn’t feel like working very much, so I started trying to get the image.

I’m normally very good with Magic Eyes, but this one took forever. I’d think I’d caught something, then lose it, then I’d have to start over with the pull-back-from-your-nose strategy. Finally, I siezed something indistinct–a diagonal bar in the left third of the sheet, and some kind of amorphous shape…

“Brendan? What are you doing?” said Caitlan from the doorway.

“I’m trying to get this Magic Eye to come out,” I replied, a little annoyed. “This one’s really tough.”

She said “Brendan. That’s wrapping paper.“

October 16, 2003 /

I smile habitually at people I don’t know, when making eye contact. When I’m tired or it’s raining, it’s like saying “Hey, yeah, you know, all in it together, hang tough.” Otherwise, it’s my version of “Hello! Don’t shoot.”

This morning at the bus stop:

Harrassed-Looking
Woman:		 “Excuse me. You got a cigarette?”
Me: “No, I’m sorry.”
(HLW pauses, looks around, looks back)
HLW: “Makes you happy, doesn’t it? Makes you happy to refuse people.”
Me: “No, I… don’t smoke.”
HLW: “Then why you smiling like that? I’ll tell you why. It’s ’cause you’re an asshole.“

Kentucky. It’s that friendly.

Pokéblog

September 4, 2003 /

I haven’t written nearly enough lately, but today I was overtaken by the urge: blog! Blog away! Unfortunately, the university computer lab system is tenaciously stupid, so I had no outlet but my pocket Moleskine. Let’s see what we gots in there!

1528 hrs: These two guys are sitting in front of me, one seat apart, using the room’s wireless network and AIM to talk to each other with their laptops. Welcome to technology! Also, no fair, I want one!

It occurs to me that this is an auditorium, and there is no earthly good reason to have a wireless network in it. Except so that all the geeks who live and work in this building could talk to each other with their laptops. Oh.

1557 hrs and every day before my Object-Oriented class, at least five guys and a girl sitting directly behind me spend their between-class break talking about Magic, the card game. They’re all in this same room for the class right before this one, so it’s a solid fifteen minutes of rapid conversation. It approaches argument, as only geeks can argue: insistently, with weak attempts at sarcasm and hyperbole, over incredibly trivial things.

I mean, I played the game. Still do, maybe twice a year, with my very old decks. But LORD, we’re in grad school now! Shut up about your stupid Magic cards!

1620 hrs: The funny thing about watching your professor work in a Windows folder he’s got up on the projector is that you know exactly when he or she created the file he or she is demonstrating. Like, say, 0030 hrs last night.

1742 hrs: There’s a man on the bus a few seats away, wearing large suspenders with a tape measure print. Little does he suspect one of the crucial factors of suspenders: they’re elastic, and of practically no use as a measuring tool! Now, a tape measure belt, that I could understand.

September 3, 2003 /

Fun With Iteration

Jon once proposed that Will Smith produce a franchise of songs in the same vein as “Miami,” ranking each city in order of preference:

“Miami, my second home!”

“Los Angeles, my third home!”

“Dublin, my… 467th home.”

More Fun With Iteration

This morning, TARCing in ten minutes late to my advisor appointment, I managed to correctly get his office extension by picking a known number down the hall and trying each subsequent number.

August 26, 2003 /

The day went very well, actually. Object-Oriented Software Development is going to be hard and a lot of fun; AI and Algorithms are going to be hard and… well, basically just hard. I managed to buy my books and a lunch and backpack. Oh! That’s a great excuse for a gimmick, because I was actually buying said backpack for Maria, and I had biked to class and had only one way to carry it. That’s right: for a few hours, mine was a metabackpack.

That biking was the first time I’ve ever actually done a real bike workout, and it was pretty cool. (It’s also longer than I thought; now that I’ve scouted the route, I think I’ll mostly TARC it.) At times I felt like an escapee of TRON, whizzing through lightfields with limitless dexterity. At others, such as when I ran into a chain link fence within five minutes of leaving my apartment, I did not. And at still others, I tried to stop, ha ha, whilst riding with a misaligned brake pad and fifty pounds of new textbooks. The other thing I learned today is “inertia.”

Also! I returned Sumana’s call and ended up talking to Leonard, who was gentle and solar-powered, the way I imagine dimetrodons. I babbled a lot, at one point, I think, engaging in extended discourse on the subject of avocados.

Yeah. I lived through one day, and tomorrow it’s already my weekly Hump Day Vacation, wherein I do nothing but hang out with Ian and get excited about secret projects. Also, try to find a longer CAT5 cable so I can get Yellow Puppy out on the interweb. Ph34r! My… vastly underpowered new computer!

August 21, 2003 /

I had two fears come true in the last twenty-four hours. This morning, I wasn’t looking, and for the first time ever I got on the wrong bus for work. It took me another three hours just to get back to where I started. I don’t know how late I’ll be here tonight.

And last night my fish finally winged his way to The Land Where Fish Are Eternally Blessed. I don’t really know why–this was about the best his life has ever been. I’ve been changing his water regularly, feeding him once a day, and he hasn’t been moved in weeks.

When he first started acting oddly, Maria and I googled frantically for betta diseases, and checked him for all the symptoms. There was a little while when we thought he had a fungal infection, but we proved ourselves wrong. For all appearances, he was a perfectly healthy fish, except didn’t swim around–he just hovered at the top or sank to the bottom of the bowl. He was still breathing when I left for work yesterday morning, and he wasn’t when I got home.

I never liked the idea of flushing fish, so we gave him a burial, in a small cardboard box lined with paper towels. Maria suggested putting some of his things in with him, which we did: some of the red glass stones from the bottom of his bowl, and the little ceramic tank goblin.

We closed the box, said thank you and goodbye, and slid him into the trash chute. I think it came open on the way down, because it made a lot of noise, like stones hitting the walls. I was proud of this; he went out like a rock star.

He was only a fish, but since I’m a human, I ascribed to him more importance than fish usually get. He was a constant in almost-a-year of rapidly changing roommates. He was a dependent at a time when I very much needed to take care of something, as a means of being okay again myself. This was something Amanda knew, magically, empathically. In three years of gifts, he was the best she ever gave to me. I very nearly named him Hope.

I might get another betta eventually, but not until I have a bigger tank, a heater and a water filter. Some of the stuff I read while I was looking for symptoms the other night made me wonder how he lived this long at all (but then again, I’ve wondered how he lived through a lot of things).

He only started really flaring at a mirror a week and a half ago: he was learning to stand up for himself. When I had loud music on near him, he’d dance to it, out of time. He was quite a lot like me, or what I’d like to be: shy, red, beautiful, effortlessly able to forget.

Apparently I define myself by bloggers

August 20, 2003 /

Coincidentally, my farewell lunch was scheduled for the same day as Emma’s, and my last day would have been the same too–except I’m not leaving after all. I’m going to keep working here part-time, Mondays and Fridays, with class on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I’m counting on that break in the middle of the week forcing me to get some work done.

This wasn’t a decision lightly reached. I talked about it to three people I respect a great deal–Sumana, Maria, and (the other) Emma (from GSP 2001)–and finally came around to staying after a lot of thought. This isn’t my dream job, but it’s a good job. My next best option would be a possible opening at The Great Escape, a really neat comic / music store on Bardstown Road, but a) it’d pay less, b) I’d have to have a driver’s license and c) it wouldn’t look nearly as good on my resumé.

So I’m going to get to know the people here a little better, and I’m going to pay my crap-programming dues, and I’ll be able to breathe a little easier financially. I’m going to be putting a big chunk of my pay into a savings account every month, and that account is going to be reserved for exactly one thing–Amtrak, California, Comic Con, Stephen Maria Lisa Will (Ian?) Sumana Leonard Graham next summer. You gotta believe!