we really ARE born to run

Sitting in a strange hotel in Calgary, waiting for my friend Barry to get here so we can go to dinner...

I came across this article on NPR about how there is now scientifically proven information about "runner's high".

And for those who think I'M crazy - it's not just me. It's all runners.

"Morganti injured herself running two years ago and had to stop running. "And everything else fell apart," she admits. "My ability to cope with the stresses of life, my organizational skills juggling your job and motherhood, everything like that, wasn't as acute as it was when I was able to run and be fit."

And:

"Morganti treats runners for injuries, and she says they're the worst patients. "The treatment is to stop running," she says. "They won't. They don't want to. A lot of the behavior is not unlike the patients we have who are seeking drugs. It's really similar. It's an addiction.""

a new holiday?

I dragged my friend Kevin along on a hike today at Roxborough, since he lives right by it and has never been. We did Carpenter's Peak. I had fun, I think for Kevin it was more like the Bataan death march.

Anyway, we were hungry when we finished so we stopped at the safeway shopping center near the park. Choices of food were mexican and asian. We opted for asian as neither of us are huge mexican food fans (that is, the american version of mexican food).

As we were looking at the menu Kevin said something about not wanting to eat "fucking mexican food on Cinco de Mayo". Then he said "we're eating chinese food - it's chink-o de mayo".

The waiter was kind of like "um, what?" but Kevin didn't notice because he was busy texting his gay room mate, who responded "I fucking hate mexican food".

The end.

I'm getting Kevin into shape so we can do Bierstadt. Maybe by June if he keeps working out every day. He's a vegan now and has already lost some weight. Of course, he had extreme difficulty getting out of my car when I dropped him at his house. Something about a sore toe and a jacked up ankle. He'll live.

See you at the top!

a response from the editor who rejected me!

I sent a follow up email to the senior editor who rejected my book asking if he had any suggestions of publishers that might be interested in my book. And he actually responded today! So I'm going to follow up on his leads this weekend.

Maybe something will come of them...

ya'll talk too fast

In a small town near Memphis, TN, teaching.

I haven't been in the south in a while...

First I was told to stop "running in the hallway". I was walking at my normal pace.

Then I was told "ya'll talk too fast". I've tried to slow down and pretend I'm speaking to someone who just learned english.

And when a student asks me a question when I've just written the information on the white board someone else in the class says "readin's fer the rich".

Rowdy group of 12 DoD personnel. I managed to make it on base even though I went in the wrong gate (worst directions from the customer and the location isn't on the map or locatable through GPS). Unlike the east coast bases they didn't try to shoot me.

It's raining on and off so my hair looks insane. But that's not really new.

And, after SIX FUCKING MONTHS they STILL have not fixed the expired licenses on the VMWare image I teach on. So I got to spend my lunch hour updating 12 computers. ANNOYING. I really hate my company sometimes.

desperate times call for desparate measures

In the interest of forging ahead with my book (thanks to all at the pitch fest who sent words of encouragement! I super appreciate it!!!!!!!) I've been up to a few things this week.

1. I made some more edits to the colossal cringle crisp caper and am looking for kid's book contests.
2. I found a magazine that's having a writing contest and I'm going to enter my gimps on rock story. Chance of publication is probably a little larger than zero, but that's okay.
3. I met a woman at digifest this weekend who's a retired editor from Random House (she moved here from NYC last year to take care of her mom). I was talking to her about my memoir and she said she is also working on a memoir and was approached by an agent that she decided not to go with (she got an A list agent instead which would be impossible for me as an unknown writer). Anyway, she thinks that agent might be interested in me. So when she gets back from a trip she's on I am supposed to send her my query letter and a sample chapter, which she will pass on to a friend who's still at Random House, hoping that friend will then pass my work onto the agent.

Crazy, I know. Don't worry, I'm not getting my hopes up that this will be anything more than another trip down the rabbit hole.

But if I don't go I'll never know what could have happened...

the STUPIDEST english word EVER

As usual, the only person in my four person unit that does anything for the common areas is me. I asked the guy next door to schedule for someone to come out and turn on the sprinklers (since he had to be home because he's the only one without keypad entry to his backyard and I don't want to try to coordinate between him and the lawn service). You would have thought I asked him to build me a replica of the Titanic with pixie sticks.

He's also the supreme douche fuck who sent me a nasty email about traveling too much. And the guy who's dogs barked so much that I seriously considered kidnapping them.

Anyway, we need someone to cut our common area grass because the two guys who own lawn mowers refuse to spend 10 minutes every other week cutting it. I started looking for a contractor on craig's list because if I didn't do it no one would.

I found a guy who offered us a rate of $45 (ridiculous) to cut our grass bi-weekly (in our discussion, that was every two weeks). I sent an email out to the HOA members asking what they thought. Douche responded back "we don't need our grass cut twice a week". I was like "I know, it's for every two weeks". He responded "So you mean BI-MONTHLY instead of BI-WEEKLY".

Now, I've been using the term "bi-weekly" for a long time. And it's always meant "every other week". So I was going to send him a link to dictionary.com to show him he was wrong. Instead I found this:

bi-weekly

   [bahy-week-lee] Show IPA adjective, noun, plural bi·week·lies, adverb

adjective

1.

occurring every two weeks.

2.

occurring twice a week; semiweekly.

noun

3.

a periodical issued every other week.

adverb

4.

every two weeks.

5.

twice a week.

 

What kind of stupid fucking shit is THAT? A word that can mean the opposite of its meaning? 

 

Someone should fix that.

 

 

but she has a key to my house, and may knife me in my sleep

Today I learned a valuable lesson.

I've been avoiding my friend, who is also my hairdresser, because I was afraid she would flip the fuck out about my deva haircut that I got from someone that wasn't her.

But she invited me to lunch today, and I decided to 'fess up. I said I would meet her for lunch and then admitted I had gotten my hair cut somewhere else. I thought I would mention it to her in email to prepare her, and to give her an opportunity to tell me to go fuck myself and not meet her for lunch after all.

But she ended up doing some research on deva, and was so impressed with my hair she said she's going to get her hair cut at Voila when she gets back from a trip she's taking to Sri Lanka.

Huh. Not the reaction I expected at all.

But I'm glad I told her and I'm glad she's not mad at me. And she said I've been a really good friend to her and helped her through some tough times.

So. Go me!

just add boobs and, what the hell, some dinosaurs

Me (in an email to my family about my book getting rejected):

Rejected.

My brother Steve:

This isn’t bad news.  He is saying she liked your book but it has a narrow audience focus.  So if you can expand your audience then they are interested, otherwise look for someone that deals in a niche.  So what can you do to expand your audience?  Get a camera crew to follow you around anywhere, doing anything or add in a lot of research and background material to draw the reader in and make them care about you or your situation.

Me:

I could add a villain who is also part zombie. Or take out all the pictures of my knee and replace them with naked women.

Steve:

Maybe you could get trapped under a boulder and cut your knee out with a  broken Leatherman.  Zombie are overdone these days, I think dinosaurs are due for a comeback.  How about you bleed onto a fossil and it comes to life.

 

 He's so pragmatic. Meanwhile my Uncle Joe did some research and found a publishing company that publishes books like mine. I'm going to get my submission in to them tomorrow.

rejected!

Random House passed on my book:

Dear Franki:

 

Thanks for letting us take a look at your material. As a runner with a bum knee, I read this with interest and found it quite riveting, not to mention harrowing.

 

A few people read with interest but ultimately it was decided that this book might better reach its target audience with a more specialized publisher with a greater outreach to the fitness community.

 

I did enjoy this look, and I wish you all the best with this.

 

Oh well.  Maybe he'll (the editor who rejected me) have some ideas on where else to send my book.

someone who has a lot of time to make costumes

Some clips from the digifest costume contest...

I wouldn't invite this person to a costume party unless you have a great costume too.

 

And, a guy proposes. That was weird. I guess Kevin and I are too cynical...

 

suicidal batman

Some clips from the digifest costume contest...

I appreciate that some people can spend 200 days making a costume for a 2 day event. But. For real?

This, as far as I could make out, is a suicidal batman.

digifest

This weekend I was arrested by storm troopers, threatened by an asian themed steampunk pirate, assaulted by a robot, and amused by walking speakers.

Digifest. It was fun.

The storm trooper was like "PUT YOUR HANDS BEHIND YOUR HEAD!". I was like dude, it's just a picture.

Asian steampunk meets pirate. That knife is very sharp. I asked if he used it in the kitchen to chop onions and he looked at me like he thought I was really stupid.

The walking speaker heads.

Oh NO! ROBOTS! That's my mentee writer Jonathan in the hat in the background.

Zombies take a break from spreading the virus to answer text messages.

These guys invaded the lobby. Scary.

This car was once parked in my neighborhood!!!!

deva

For the past few years I seem to have been in a constant state of hair crisis. It's not easy to manage an afro.

But today I made an appointment with a stylist named Jess who is an expert in curly hair. She gave me the best haircut I've had in years. AND she taught me how to style it with these little pins so I never have to use a hair dryer again (I am sort of afraid of hair dryers and terrified of curling irons - seriously, if someone puts a curling iron close to my head I start to hypervenilate - I was burned badly on the ear with a curling iron when I was young). Check out the salon, it's owned by a former olympic snow boarder who works at the front desk and is super nice.

Jess also introduced me to a great product line called Deva. It's made for african americans but blondes can use it too. If my hair looks this good at altitude I wonder what will happen when I go to Tennessee in a few weeks...

Not exactly a professional photographer

Denver - making pink slime with dynamite?

How can you not read an article that starts out with the sentence:

It may take explosives to dislodge a group of cows that wandered into an old ranger cabin high in the Rocky Mountains, then died and froze solid when they couldn't get out.

Um, hamburger anyone?

the jagger smile

Perhaps my brain momentarily short circuited after spending 15 minutes looking at kitchen cabinets (that's a long time isn't it?).

Last night I dreamed I was at an ocean resort. I was in the lobby of the hotel, which was really dark, so I decided to go up to a terrace on the second story. I was sitting at a table looking out at the ocean when...Mick Jagger walked up to me. He said "I need a key to the room" and I was like "um what?" and he said "I want to change" and I was like "what are your clothes doing in my room?" He said "we've been hanging out together all week!" I was like "we have????" and he said "that's why I like hanging out with you, you forget everything!"

He walked away and I noticed the waves were picking up in the ocean so I went out to the parking lot, which was just a flat, boring parking lot, and moved the rental car to a street. Then I went back into the hotel and up to the terrace and Mick Jagger was sitting at a table drinking lemonade and he was like "I ordered you a lemonade. Where did you go?"

I told him I had moved the car and he said I was being silly but then we looked at the ocean and the waves were getting huge and they were flooding the parking lot. All these cops showed up in black uniforms and black hats and wouldn't let anyone move their cars. So Mick Jagger was like "you saved our car!" and I was like "but we have to get out of here because the water is rising". Mick Jagger didn't want to leave because he was finishing his drink but I grabbed him by the arm and started pulling him across the veranda.

The water was getting higher and the waves were breaking over the veranda and Mick Jagger said "you have to save me because I can't swim". Then I was like oh great, I haven't been swimming in a long time and now Mick Jagger is going to drown because I won't be able to save him and no one will believe I ever hung out with him.

Fucked up.

a bit of truth about my refrigerator

Sarah wasn't being mean about my refrigerator. It is pretty pathetic:

I do eat out a lot, how did you guess?

The freezer is even more pathetic.

I guess I know more about architecture than architects

My architect came today to talk to me about my kitchen remodeling plans. I'm not sure we will see eye to eye on everything. Her book of projects totally fits my style. But, I did have moments of doubt. Like this:

Sarah: we could put the refrigerator here, and if it had paneling, it would look like a cabinet

Me: but, it's a refrigerator

Sarah: but people like to cover the refrigerator so it looks like a cabinet

Me: but then wouldn't it look like I didn't have a refrigerator in my kitchen?

Sarah: no, because people know you have a refrigerator

Me: so why would I make it look like a cabinet?

Sarah: so you don't see your appliances

Me: but I'm not covering my oven and dishwasher with paneling, so don't you think the refrigerator might feel bad, like "what's wrong with me that I get covered up with a cabinet? it's because I'm fat and ugly!" Then little tears would leak out the ice maker.

Sarah: refrigerators don't think

Me: mine might, if I get one with a robot in it
Sarah: (after looking in my refrigerator) doesn't look like you need a refrigerator anyway. You just need a coke dispensing machine.

She's going to give me a sketch of her idea for the redesign in a few days. She says my problem is I can't visualize stuff. I hope that's true.

calling all creative spirits who like rockets!!!!!

I have been so enjoying the stories about the N Korean rocket that fell apart. I'm not being mean spirited. It's just that anyone with half a fucking brain knows the future is not about weapons that are material. It's about hackers and software. All the weapons in the world aren't going to save you if they get hacked because every weapon system has...embedded software! And they don't work without it.

Anyway, tonight on a late conf call with my customer I decided I'm going to build the next gen N Korean rocket tomorrow based on shit I have around my house. If you build one and send me a picture I'll post it (c'mon Bob and Steve, it will be FUN).

This project is not in any way an excuse for putting off my other, more practical project, which is to install a new black out screen I bought for my huge front window that I tried to put up today but got the brackets mis-aligned.

Ech. Fucking straight lines.

more entertaining than taxes

A bunch of people at work are taking Thursday and Friday off to do their taxes.

Seriously?

One word: accountant. Paying someone to do your taxes is tax deductible. I haven't done my own taxes since 1994.

Then I was reminded of my shoe calculation spreadsheet (how to calculate the total number of shoes you can reasonably own. More entertaining than taxes.

mile high geeking

Technologically speaking this has been a productive week for me.

I finally re-imaged my old desktop that I use to connect to the internet and cleaned everything off of it. Today I installed a repeater and boosted my wireless from 71% (damn brick walls!) to 91% Also, my tablet is screaming fast accessing the internet.

And I received my new samsung laptop today which has 6, yeah 6, GB of RAM. It's screaming fast. And sexy. I love it.

And on my online meeting today I came up with a way for my customer to seamlessly manage his stories (he does scrum development) through a tricked out report. Seriously, he was so excited he told me he loved me.

Which he doesn't. He's married.

But he loves enterprise architecture and the tool I support. I've rarely met anyone so interested in the arcane details of architecture. I name drop people you've never heard of (like Grady Booch, who lives in Colorado BTW). Today I talked to him for an hour about structured and unstructured methods and he took notes. Usually no one cares when I talk about math related anything.

Maybe my customer has a bit of a brain crush on me. It happens. I've never met him in real life.

It's weird, speaking of love. I love writing, but I love being an engineer. To become an engineering fellow at my company would be as great, if not better, than being a best selling author, though no one but me would give a shit.

That's some fucked up goals. Like wanting to be a great programmer and a luddite at the same time...

wouldn't you like to be my neighbor...but live really far away from me

As the president of my HOA (I live in a row house with three other units in it). I have a few annoying responsibilities, like trying to get people to pay their dues, cleaning up the trash out front because the other people don't do it, pruning bushes, shoveling snow, etc.

My neighbor, who is a first class dick (I put up with his dogs barking for two years before he finally did something, and that only after we almost had a physical altercation), was in charge last year of getting our house painted since I was traveling too much to do it and he thought the four contractors I had out to get estimates gave estimates that were too high. He, of course, failed to get the house painted.

Two years ago he was "in charge" of getting our decks rebuilt because once again he thought the contractors I found were charging too much. I did all the research on decking material, rails, colors, etc. Let's see, what did he have to do? Get an estimate. Let people into my garage since I wasn't home when the decks were rebuilt. Let's just call him asshole.

The other day I sent this out:

We should probably make a decision about painting the house this summer. If we don't I think we should at least have some stucco work done and replace the front lights.

Asshole responded:

Let's paint and fix everything.  It has been to long.  Frankie, do you want to spear head this?  

The woman in the end unit sent:

Asshole, do you still have the paint sample we chose from the selection I brought to our meeting last spring?  

Asshole: 

Not sure, I will look for it.

Then:

Did we all sign off on this color???  I don't remember...

 

Finally, I really need you all to take an active role in your property.  Not living at your house or being gone frequently is not acceptable.  We all have busy lives and you need to do something.  I will not be stuck organizing and taking care of everyone properties again through this project.  Franki, as you have access to the bank account, lets us know where we stand.

 

I was like WHAT THE FUCK? He never even shovels when it snows. He insisted the HOA pay $75 to have a lawn service rake up our leaves because I was out of town and he was too lazy to do it. "Organizing and taking care of everyone's properties" - fucking WHATEVER. The guy does NOTHING.

 

I wrote:

 

Yes, the colors were signed off on at the last HOA meeting we had.

Everyone has access to the bank account through the internet. And Asshole, you should be receiving monthly statements. I can switch the address back to mine if that's easier*. And they should have mailed you an ATM card to access the account. The PIN for it as well as the bank access information is in the HOA PDF that I sent out a few years ago. There's a copy in the HOA files.

 

I hope he moves soon and someone cool moves in. It's annoying to be the only person that can get shit done, on top of not being thanked for it, and on top of his snarky comments about me traveling all the time. No really, I'd much rather be in an Holiday Inn in New Jersey than home, you fucking fuckwit. 

*I had them mailed to him when I went to the middle east

 

IKEA cult

I got up early on Monday so I could get into IKEA as soon as it opened to look at kitchen cabinets. I figured, Monday after a holiday...who would be at IKEA?

Answer: old people walking really slow and women with baby carriages blocking the aisles. Ech.

I haven't been to IKEA since the debacle of helping my friend Con Way who was in the midst of redoing his apartment and getting crushed by 600 lbs of closet doors.

I forgot how insane the place is. People every where, weird music playing, and these announcements made over the loudspeaker that make me think of The Prisoner or what I imagine a cult would be like.

I ran, almost literally, through a bunch of kitchens before I found cabinets I liked. I opened every cabinet and decided it was time to leave IKEA. I don't think I'll go back there alone and unarmed. They didn't have the raspberry cookies I like. Boo hoo.

Then today my contractor Neal came by to give me an estimate on redoing my kitchen and I'm probably going to go with cabinets from his cabinet guy because they're easier to customize. When all was said and done I agreed to let him redo my downstairs bathroom and my floors as well. That leaves only the gas fireplace and all the projects in my house are...

...no, better not say it. The house might be listening.

I'm meeting with an architect who's going to draw up some designs for me. This project is scary but it will be nice when it's done!

bike bitterness, which is not as dangerous as road rage

Spring has sprung, at least until the next snow storm, and all the mother fuckers were out on the bike trail today. Dammit, shouldn't you be celebrating easter and cooking dinner and shit?

Apparently there are a lot of fuckwads who don't understand the rules of a bike trail. So, here's a few for those who ingested paint chips or lack common sense:

-It's called a bike path because it's for BIKES. That's why there's a pedestrian path for PEDESTRIANS. Why are you and your eight spastic kids walking on the BIKE PATH and running in front of my bike and not yielding at least part of the path so I can get past your annoying asses?
-I believe I may be the only biker who says "on your right" so people will know I'm about to pass. It's annoying when a group of racers blows past me. It's also annoying when people don't yield. Get your fucking cruiser out of Jake the Snake's way or you will have a tire up your ass. This is particularly meant for that fucker redneck guy who refused to yield on the trail when I told him I was passing. Three times I tried to pass him and he purposely blocked my way. Finally I passed him on an uphill turn (nice to have a lot of gears) and he tried to swerve into me, then yelled "passing on a turn is dangerous!" (guess he's never seen the tour de france).
-A bike trail is bi-directional by design. You ride out for a while, then you come back. This isn't England. Ride on your side of the trail so I don't have to slam on my brakes coming around a turn because you are riding on the wrong side of the trail.
-Dogs not on leashes are not cool. Believe that I will have no remorse if your hinky dog runs at my front tire seconds before I pass him and I run him over. Also, walking on one side of the trail, and having your dog on the other, with the leash stretching across the trail is a good way to cause a massive accident. If you're that fucking stupid you shouldn't have a pet. and you should be on a leash.

Guess I'll have to go back to not riding on the weekends. During the week days the riders are less stupid.

I will love you forever if you build me a sushi robot

...even if the sushi robot eventually gets taken over by malignant code and kills me.

It would be worth it.

In other news no one cares about but me, all of my rose bushes, even the baby one I planted in November, have new growth on them. I'm very excited, after things looking so grim last summer, that they are making a come back.

smashed windshield, sugar canvas

My friend S reminded me at lunch today about another "exciting" thing that happened last night...

S insisted we take a pedi-cab the last 6 blocks back to the hotel because his legs were tired. Turns out the pedi-cab driver had just dropped off Bret Michaels (Poison lead singer) and Tommy Lee (Motley Crue) right before he picked us up. They're in town to promote some concert or something. He took them to a strip joint and then picked us up. He was very excited about meeting them.

I was driving home from the airport after dropping S off (he filled my car with gas, I mean, he filled the tank with gas and paid for it, and then told me to wash my car) when a rock flew off the back of a truck (think it was a rock) and smashed my windshield to pieces:

That pretty much sucked.

I can take pictures and drive at the same time 

But then I got home and found a package from my brother's girlfriend. She made me cookies!She has a business called Sugar Canvas. Leave me a comment if you want information on how to order some for yourself. There were more cookies than this but I ate them before I took the picture.

I'm eating the flower tomorrow for breakfast

denver lebanese style

So after I dropped off my piece of shit new laptop (turns out the image they loaded on it was corrupt, which is why I was having so many problems - it was a known corrupt image but they loaded it anyway - and I won't get my computer back until today at the earliest because most of the routers in my company's IT building are down and it's taking forever to download the new image - oh, and of course, no loaner laptop - I've said it before, we are an IT company) and met some sales people for lunch. They're in town for a data conference for the intell community.

Afterward S and I went back to his hotel so he could change. We were going to go to the botanic garden. So I waited in the lobby for 30 minutes but S didn't come down. I texted him and he said to order a glass of wine.

I hate waiting.

Then, right after I got the wine S showed up. But he still hadn't changed so I brought the wine up to his room so he could change. Then he decided we should go see the gym of the hotel. I poured the wine into a coffee cup and we went to the gym, which was like a real gym and not a crap hotel gym. S insisted I go into the men's room with him to see how nice it was. It was kind of weird walking around a men's room in a gym carrying a glass of wine.

We headed back to my house, got into my car, and went to the botantic gardens. Because S had fucked around for so long we only had 30 minutes until the gardens closed. Sami tried to argue with the woman at the ticket counter that it should stay open longer for us. Lebanese people are like that. So she told us to walk a certain way around the gardens because security walks the opposite direction and it would give us more time.

We made it around the gardens in record time and then I wanted to show S the poison frogs, lollipop plant, chocolate tree, and orchids. But the doors to the green house were locked. S saw a security guard and knocked on the locked door but the guard ignored us. Then he opened another door for a group of three women. That totally pissed S off so he started banging on the locked door. I was like "dude, let's just go in the open door". Then he tried to argue with the guard for not unlocking a door for him. I distracted him with the orchids.

We were finally thrown out by security who wouldn't even give us two more seconds to see the poison frogs.

We went back to my house and had a glass of wine. It was almost 7 o'clock so we walked down to 16th street mall to find a restaurant to eat in. S always says he isn't picky and then he's super picky when I suggest a place. We went to writer's square but he didn't want to eat there. So we walked down to Wazee because I was trying to find this indian restaurant I like. But I couldn't find it and S was accusing me of taking him down a dark street, like what, I was going to mug him?

He decided we should walk back to this steak place named Willie G's. We were seated but there was a large table of drunk obnoxious people and he said they gave him a headache so we had to leave because the waitress wouldn't seat us in a booth in a quieter area of the restaurant (he argued with her for like 10 minutes). He made the waitress look up the address for the indian place even though I told him I could look it up on my blackberry. She seemed pretty pissed by the time we left.

So we walked all the way back down to Blake Street (not far for me but S doesn't like to walk). We found the indian restaurant but it was closed for some reason. Then he decided to go to a restaurant we had seen that was even further down 16th Street. But there was a 45 minute wait.

By then I had the impression that if I didn't find a place soon S was going to kill me. We ended up eating at this asian fusion restaurant. Thankfully it was good and S was happy. It was 9 pm before we got our food.

He wanted to know exactly how far I made him walk...

Then we went back to his hotel and met up with Cosmo, who's from Jamaica, and Bill, who works with S and is also a friend of mine. Cosmo told me where to visit in Jamaica and then revealed his plans to leave his girlfriend in Denver and move to NYC. I was like "why don't you tell her your leaving?" Oddly, his response was "because she's just not feelin' the city." Also, he told me a story about a Jamaican artist who he admired who's work he wanted to buy. But before he good the artist was shot and killed in Kingston. The robbers got $30 and a watch. A gallery in LA hoarded the artist's work and the price skyrocketed and no one could afford to buy it. Cosmo was pissed. Then, 5 years later, a friend of his lost his home. Cosmo went to help him pack and found out all along the friend had been hoarding two of the artist's paintings. Because he had no money he sold them to Cosmo. There was a cleverly phrased moral to the story but I can't remember what he said. I should have written it down.

Then we all piled into Bill's car and he drove me home.

one of these kids...is just like the other!!!!

I've been obsessed with sharks since I was little. It appears the obsession is genetic. My nephew is obsessed with sharks too.

My sister is being a good sport about it.

Michael won't put his shark book down even at dinner.

Michael - coming to a shark tank near you!

you broke it again????

I spent an hour with my customer today trying to figure out why SQL Server permissions were only working for some people trying to access the software tool I support. I kept telling him the problem was with the SQL Server app but he kept insisting it was tool permissions.

Finally I asked to drive. It turned out:

1. he had spelled the two non-working account names wrong
2. instead of deleting the wrong accounts and importing from LDAP like I told him to do he just imported from LDAP so the right accounts didn't get picked up

Then he was like "Oh, I guess you were right." Um, yeah.

Then, at 5 pm sharp, he broke something else. Then he wanted to have an in depth discussion about his meta model. At 6:30 I was like dude, I have to get up at 3 am tomorrow and I have work to finish.

I think, actually, he likes hanging out with me. And he said he's going to invite me back. No one in my customer's group knew about the insane asylum or the ghost town and they want me to come back and take them on a hike.

Which is kind of weird because 3 of the 7 people come from families that have lived in Smithfield since the early 1800s. I guess that's why people hire consultants, to find those kind of things out.

another potential lead on my book

The editor I pitched on Saturday afternoon wants the first 50 pages of my book!!!!! Even though she was sick and I was her 30th pitch of the day!

Four other women got picked too, and I'm really glad one was the woman who wrote the book about the lawyer, especially since she was told no one would be interested in her book. Go Christine and semper fi!

insane asylum hike

Today I went hiking in the area around my customer's site. There's a huge farm there with lots of trails.

My customer's site was built near the ruins of an insane asylum that was active in the late 1800s. Lots of murders and abuses went on there and eventually Rhode Island came up with a series of reforms and the asylum shut down. It was run by the owner of Smithfield Farm and he often beat and raped the women who were housed there (most of them for being unwed mothers). He would also kill the really crazy people.

As I walked along the trails I could see remains of Hanton City, also known as the lost city. I was lucky to be here before the vegetation was in bloom, so I could see the remains of the city.

one of the many stone walls built in the forest

No one knows what happened to the city. One theory is that the residents were runaway slaves living there secretly (one assumes they eventually left when slaves were freed). But the theory is unlikely because they would not have had the equipment to build the structures that are found in the lost city.

Another theory is that the city was where people with communicable diseases were isolated, which would explain why it's so remote.

A third theory is that the city was founded by British Loyalists, who were either forced to live in isolation or did it on their own.

I found the grave yard:

 

...which was pretty creepy. Also, all along the trail were stacked cairns. It felt like walking around the woods where they filmed the blair witch project.

Finally I came out on an area of the trail where the power lines are:

 It was pretty bizarre to walk out of a dense forest and see this. The power lines made a low hum. And, oddly, I could hear a band playing at what I'm guessing was the Bryant University campus. Spooky.

Then the weather turned and I was worried it would start snowing again (it snowed yesterday) so I headed back to my hotel (getting lost, briefly, on a trail).

That was one of the eeriest hikes I've ever done.

I head back to civilization Tuesday morning. I'm glad. I only brought one outfit to work out in and it smells really bad.

If you ever happen to find yourself in this area I recommend the house of pizza and yamoto sushi. I've been eating at both places all week.

the next buckaroo bonzai: Doomsday Penis Code

Last night I was watching a show called Ancient Aliens in the TV. My customer recommended it and I was too tired to read so the guy at the front desk found it in there for me and I settled down to watch it.

THEN! SUDDENLY! There was a guy from my writer's group being interviewed on the show!!!!!!!! I was like whoa THAT'S WEIRD. So I emailed Kevin:

Remember that guy [] that came to meetings with his boring civil war novel? Well, I'm watching a show and that dude was on the show! There he is again! Weird!

The show is about ufos.

Kevin:

Well, that makes sense. UFOs caused the Civil War, I think. Not-So-Nearly-Ancient Aliens.

Me:

[] was around during the civil war, but the aliens kept him alive to infiltrate our writer's group because some members are also aliens. Mike, if he is an alien, is a kind alien. []'s boring stories were an attempt to put us under hypnotic control.

I won a software award today. I hate my employer. Glad I have a job interview in Aurora next week.

Kevin:

A great big Fonzie "thumbs up!" for winning the award, yet it sucks dead monkeys that they're making shit-tons of money off your "spare time" invention. Definitely get a better job, then sue them. Or better yet, tell them that you inserted a "doomsday" code in it that will delete all the computer's hard drives and replace them with a picture of a talking penis... unless they cough up money for you.

I would not wish Aurora upon my worst enemy. What place in that shithole would require your brain-power and sheer, staggering sense of dry irony?

Me:

Okay, why did I just have to look up Fonzie on wikipedia? Because I'm confused by tv references.

I always code easter eggs. But, nothing that will bring about the destruction of the world. I'm not that good at writing code.

 

Kevin:

 

The point is, to spread the RUMOR that you inserted the code. Not that you actually DID. They can't sell it if the buyers hear there's a DOOMSDAY PENIS CODE ready to delete hard drives. Just like the movie "Independence Day" and that shit was TRUE.

 

Me:

 

Dude, next project, let's co-author a screen play called doomsday penis code. It could be the next buckaroo bonzai.

 

Kevin:

 

"Buckaroo Banzai" didn't make any money, though it was a clever film. I like your idea, though. We'll write the "Avatar" of penis-titled movies.

Me:

Not if I have to watch avatar. My dad turned it off after 10 minutes. I can't watch more than he did because he's my dad.

 

Kevin:

 

Avatar earned nearly $2.8 billion. If we're aiming high (and what penis isn't?) then that's the mark we're looking to hit. But hey, hitting $280 is fine, too.

 

I can't believe I'm having this conversation with my dad

My dad never read anything I wrote before I wrote a chapter about him in my book. He hasn't read my book, just the parts about him, but he did provide me with technical corrections to the chapter where I describe a conversation we had about carbon:

My dad said, "Those lower cost solar panels are made from amorphous silicon semiconductor material. They can readily be produced but are low in efficiency, and over time they degrade and can fail early. The crystalline material is better." I thought about all the fluid in my knee turning to a crystallized mass, cutting the soft tissue.

He paused, also contemplating crystal structures, but not the ones in my knee. “"Isn't it interesting that carbon has three polymorphs? One produces pencil lead, one sparkling diamonds, and one fullerenes that spawned the nanotechnology revolution. Carbon is a unique element since it can form single, double, and triple bonds with itself..."

     My vision went white. I was going to pass out. I collapsed on a rock, and then I lost consciousness. When I regained consciousness I looked around, confused. There were pine needles scattered on the ground near my feet. I wished Martha Stewart was with us so that she could make me a pillow with them. I knew I would never leave that rock.

Anyway, I was talking to him about my cringle crisp caper book which he also read  (because he's on chemo and it's light reading). I was standing in the lobby of my hotel to get better phone reception when I was talking to him.

He said "I liked the book, but the ending sucked. The croco-diamond didn't do enough to make up for robbing the ton-o-tap". I was like "but he invented salsa and renamed the cringle crisps after the kangawrong". And my dad was like "that's not enough, he needs to give up the d.Dornian diamond to pay for a bunch of equipment to modernize the giant man's farm". I argued with him for a while and realized he was right.

Then I told him that I was also thinking to add in a song that the whitey biteys would sing, called "Under the Sea", to thank the giant man, kangawrong, and croco-diamond for the mittens. It goes:

Under the sea! Under the sea!

Won't you come see us under the sea?

We'll eat starfish crackers and jellyfish cheese!
So pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease 

won't you come see us under the sea?

My dad thought it was a good idea.

Then I hung up the phone and noticed everyone in the lobby was looking at me as if I'd gone mad.

Because, seriously, who argues with their dad about croco-diamonds? And recites a poem about jellyfish cheese.

oh just MAKE IT FUCKING STOP

So, at 5:15 pm today, FRIDAY, my client decided to upgrade the software I support. Of course he screwed up and caused a licensing issue and I had to dig around the guts of Windows 7 for 2 hours to fix the problem. Had not intended to work until 7 pm. Oh well. I like working 12 hours a day.

And, for some reason, my new laptop is so fucked up I can't project on a projector (that started today, randomly) and items on menus in my installed applications just disappear and I can't get them to come back.

Oh, and my customer had to give me a license for Visio because I can't get one through my company and I need Visio for work I have to do this weekend. Really? My client is paying for my software licenses? I hate my company some times. Glad I have an interview on Wednesday.

The good news, I guess, is that I was given a Labs award from my company for a software integration I created in my spare time. They'll sell it for millions. I'm supposed to be happy because the award is very prestigious. They did give me some money for it. I'm going to use it to buy a sub zero under the counter refrigerator when I redo my kitchen in the summer.

No, seriously, I'm going to redo my kitchen.

I know I've been saying that for like 6 years but this time I'm not lying.

the rest of the pitch story

So on Sunday I sat down with the last person I had to pitch to. He's a senior editor for Random House. I could tell while I was doing my pitch that it was going well because he kept snickering (the pitch was supposed to be funny). After I finished he asked about my story arc. I had no idea what he was asking me but I must have answered the question correctly because he said he thought my book sounded exciting and that he thought it was an interesting project.

I liked that he called it a project.

So then I was sitting there not sure what to do so I said "Okay, I guess I'll go". He stood up, shook my hand, and gave me his card. I was like "Um, what should I do with this?" and he was like "send me your book!" Then he started laughing. He must think I'm a moron.

Anyway, I found out later from the group leader that instead of requesting just 5 pages or 20 pages he requested my whole book!

I sent it to him yesterday evening. This morning I got an email from him saying "got it, thanks!"

So if this fails it's because my writing sucks.

If he likes it the battle has just begun. If I sell him on the project he has to sell his senior management. Then they find me an agent. Then they have to convince a distributor to carry it. Editing the book can take 6 - 10 months. It's usually a year from the time the project is green lighted (which, on average, is four months from when the manu is requested) to publication. With lots of work in between.

Fingers crossed...

One of the women in my group started a facebook page for us. It's called Pitch Bitches.

day 4 - success!!!!!! sort of!

A senior editor from Random House requested MY WHOLE BOOK to read! Usually they just ask for 5 or 20 pages! And he said he's excited about what he's heard about my book!

Doesn't guarantee anything. Of 100 people read usually only 1 gets picked.

More later, the internet at my hotel is shit right now.