My family is always late picking me up at the airport. One cold winter day when I had flown into Cincy my dad was 45 minutes late picking me up because he decided to rake some leaves. My brother left me waiting at Dulles one time for almost three hours because he decided, even though he was only 15 miles from the airport, to go home and feed his cat (then had to drive to his house and back to the airport in rush hour traffic).
So I decided to be on time to pick up my dad this morning (he flew out here for vacation, is staying until Sunday). Surprisingly though his flight got in much earlier than expected and his bags arrived 5 minutes after he got to the main terminal (that has never, in 7 years of flying in and out of DIA, happened to me).
I had left him a message telling him that I would pick him up at arrivals and to wait under the southwest sign. Luckily I called as I approached the terminal to make sure he got my message. He said "yeah, but I'm waiting at departures under the Frontier sign." Hm. Because he thought I would find him there easily????
So I swerved over to take the road to departures rather than arrivals but ended up in the wrong lane, for commercial vehicles. I had to wait for 7 taxis to go through the gate before I could take the exit back to the lane for normal cars.
And then we went to the botanic gardens. Fun. I love that place. Tomorrow we're hiking, Thursday going to Salida, not sure what's on deck after that...
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
Thursday, October 13, 2011
really, it's all about you
This morning has been a nightmare. Besides the usual idiocy of some east coaster scheduling yet ANOTHER meeting at 6 am (I can understand this for people overseas - but there's NO reason the east coaster has to schedule these meetings at 6 am my time - in fact, it's early even for the east coast clients so most of them don't show up for the meetings). There is no reason why my company should expect me to be at work at 6 unless the CLIENT wants that.
Then I got an email that I have to take an engagement in Canada and needed to apply for my work permit immediately. I tried to explain to my scheduler that I already had two engagements for the time she wanted me in Canada. Back in the day my scheduler would have taken care of cleaning up the mess. Now I have to do it.
I found someone to take one engagement and rescheduled with my other client for a later date. Then I managed to find the obscure link for applying for a work permit on my company's crap web site. I spent $400 applying for it, plus $50 fed ex costs, and have no idea if I will get it in time. But at least the other problems were fixed. I then had to run a conference call that went over 20 minutes (and had a 2 minute start delay because my phone code for the conference service had expired and I had to get a new one - thanks for sending me a message it was expiring asspipes!).
Meanwhile, the consultant who promised to take my other engagement decided he didn't want it after all. And the sales guy on the rescheduled engagement refuses to accept the new dates I proposed, and the customer agreed to, for the rescheduled engagement. He is sales and doesn't have to fucking be there. On top of that, we were initially scheduled to do the work the week of thanksgiving but he doesn't want to travel then. If we were doing the engagement the week of Thanksgiving there would be NO PROBLEM and the customer wanted to do it that week because it's less busy around his office.
I think all these insane people in my company forget that I'm the fucking talent. And it's not about them. Fuck it. I'm just going to wait for someone to tell me where to go and what to do. I have had it trying to help people clean up their shit show messes.
AAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG!!!!!!!!!!!
Then I got an email that I have to take an engagement in Canada and needed to apply for my work permit immediately. I tried to explain to my scheduler that I already had two engagements for the time she wanted me in Canada. Back in the day my scheduler would have taken care of cleaning up the mess. Now I have to do it.
I found someone to take one engagement and rescheduled with my other client for a later date. Then I managed to find the obscure link for applying for a work permit on my company's crap web site. I spent $400 applying for it, plus $50 fed ex costs, and have no idea if I will get it in time. But at least the other problems were fixed. I then had to run a conference call that went over 20 minutes (and had a 2 minute start delay because my phone code for the conference service had expired and I had to get a new one - thanks for sending me a message it was expiring asspipes!).
Meanwhile, the consultant who promised to take my other engagement decided he didn't want it after all. And the sales guy on the rescheduled engagement refuses to accept the new dates I proposed, and the customer agreed to, for the rescheduled engagement. He is sales and doesn't have to fucking be there. On top of that, we were initially scheduled to do the work the week of thanksgiving but he doesn't want to travel then. If we were doing the engagement the week of Thanksgiving there would be NO PROBLEM and the customer wanted to do it that week because it's less busy around his office.
I think all these insane people in my company forget that I'm the fucking talent. And it's not about them. Fuck it. I'm just going to wait for someone to tell me where to go and what to do. I have had it trying to help people clean up their shit show messes.
AAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG!!!!!!!!!!!
Monday, October 10, 2011
my dad's friend wins the Nobel in Chemistry
I was talking to my dad last night and he mentioned that a friend of his, Dr. Danny Schechtman, had just won the Nobel prize in chemistry. He and my dad worked together when Dr. Schechtman was at the National Bureau of Standards.
Here's a link to one of the papers my dad wrote with Dr. Schechtman:
http://www.springerlink.com/content/931226w26181100m/
My dad told me this story: back in the 80s he and Dr. Schechtman were doing some research on TiAl (my dad was interested from a metallurgy perspective) but it would take Dr. Schechtman a few months to do analysis. So my dad wrote a fortran program that could do the research in 10 minutes (I remember him taking me into his office when I was a kid and I would feed punch cards into a machine - possibly part of this software program - also my dad would have to analyze the results to figure out why the software wasn't working - he would bring home reams of this paper with lines of green interspersed with lines of white, a little bigger than 8 x 14, with holes running down the sides and all the pages attached - when he was done with the analysis we would use the paper for drawing pictures, making banners, and creating maps for fake buried treasure that we would leave around the neighborhood to trick people).
When Dr. Schechtman left the National Bureau of Standards he wanted to have the software updated to another language. This must have been, according to my dad, a herculean task because my dad didn't document any of his code.
What I love best about the whole story is how everyone told Dr. Schechtman he was crazy...and of course, he was right!!!!!
Think about that next time someone presents you with an out of the box idea...
Here's a link to one of the papers my dad wrote with Dr. Schechtman:
http://www.springerlink.com/content/931226w26181100m/
My dad told me this story: back in the 80s he and Dr. Schechtman were doing some research on TiAl (my dad was interested from a metallurgy perspective) but it would take Dr. Schechtman a few months to do analysis. So my dad wrote a fortran program that could do the research in 10 minutes (I remember him taking me into his office when I was a kid and I would feed punch cards into a machine - possibly part of this software program - also my dad would have to analyze the results to figure out why the software wasn't working - he would bring home reams of this paper with lines of green interspersed with lines of white, a little bigger than 8 x 14, with holes running down the sides and all the pages attached - when he was done with the analysis we would use the paper for drawing pictures, making banners, and creating maps for fake buried treasure that we would leave around the neighborhood to trick people).
When Dr. Schechtman left the National Bureau of Standards he wanted to have the software updated to another language. This must have been, according to my dad, a herculean task because my dad didn't document any of his code.
What I love best about the whole story is how everyone told Dr. Schechtman he was crazy...and of course, he was right!!!!!
Think about that next time someone presents you with an out of the box idea...
B roll - my first commercial
Yesterday I was up on my roof winterizing my swamp cooler when I got a text from a fellow Denver Writer's group member Kevin. He was filming a commercial in Cherry Creek and wanted me to meet him so he could return some movies I lent him. Then he told me to dress in a certain outfit so I could be in the commercial. I thought he was joking.
But he was serious. My character was supposed to be a struggling business owner, and the commercial was for a lawyer. I had to wear a suit.
I got to the lawyer's office on time but Kevin wasn't there. Instead I met Cheryl Hiltzik who is a producer from LA. When I walked up to the office door, where she and the camera man were already waiting with their camera equipment, she turned to me and said "I hope you are here for the commercial because you're perfect!" I was surprised. I felt kind of stupid in my suit and weird makeup application.
She said she normally touches people up but she liked my "natural" look (I was wearing mascara and lipstick and felt like my face was caked with makeup but I guess that's a "natural" look). Then she asked what I do for a living, and I tried to explain it in general terms but she wanted more details. She thinks software is interesting. Then she said "How can you be so geeky and so damn cute?"
Around that time Kevin showed up and I made a little comment "most of us were here on time" which Cheryl laughed at. Then the lawyer called Kevin and said he was tied up in a meeting and couldn't shoot the commercial until Wednesday. Kevin was like "okay, we wasted everyone's time, but thanks for coming" and Cheryl said "let's get some footage of her walking down the hallway at least". Kevin looked at me and said "it's going to be b roll because we needed to you actually walk into the office and meet Steve" and Cheryl said "but she's so cute I'd like to get some footage anyway."
So I went to the end of the hallway and was supposed to open the elevator doors, walk down the hall, and act like I was opening the lawyer's office door. The first time I walked so fast the camera man couldn't keep up with me. The second time I almost walked into the door and started laughing because I could see Kevin down the hallway. The third time I looked at the camera, which you aren't supposed to do. The fourth time my heel got caught in the gap between the elevator floor and the regular floor and I almost fell backwards. Finally I did it right. They also took footage following me from the back as I walked to the office door.
It was pretty fun except it was hard to not look at the camera, to slow down my walk without looking weird, and I think I was making weird faces because as soon as they would start filming me I wanted to laugh.
Anyway, I'll probably end up on the cutting room floor but maybe I'll get to be in another commercial. Also, Cheryl knows John Scott (he's a director) and I told her about my book and she said he might be interested in the story line at least. John loves rock climbing and diving (his kids started rock climbing at the age of 4). Special thanks go out to Kevin who is much better at promoting me than I am (he kept saying "tell her about the part where you were in the water with the great whites" and "tell her how you fell 70 feet").
The best part of the whole experience was that Cheryl does a ton of work for charities (battered women, ALS, down syndrome) and I told her about no barriers and paradox sports. I've always thought the paradox athletes would make at least a good documentary if not a tv series. They are all so funny and such amazing athletes. Anyway, we'll see if anything happens with that. And I hope I get to meet up with Cheryl again because she has a lot of ideas for helping non profits and I rarely meet people who are as engaged as Cheryl. I think I could learn a lot from her.
But he was serious. My character was supposed to be a struggling business owner, and the commercial was for a lawyer. I had to wear a suit.
I got to the lawyer's office on time but Kevin wasn't there. Instead I met Cheryl Hiltzik who is a producer from LA. When I walked up to the office door, where she and the camera man were already waiting with their camera equipment, she turned to me and said "I hope you are here for the commercial because you're perfect!" I was surprised. I felt kind of stupid in my suit and weird makeup application.
She said she normally touches people up but she liked my "natural" look (I was wearing mascara and lipstick and felt like my face was caked with makeup but I guess that's a "natural" look). Then she asked what I do for a living, and I tried to explain it in general terms but she wanted more details. She thinks software is interesting. Then she said "How can you be so geeky and so damn cute?"
Around that time Kevin showed up and I made a little comment "most of us were here on time" which Cheryl laughed at. Then the lawyer called Kevin and said he was tied up in a meeting and couldn't shoot the commercial until Wednesday. Kevin was like "okay, we wasted everyone's time, but thanks for coming" and Cheryl said "let's get some footage of her walking down the hallway at least". Kevin looked at me and said "it's going to be b roll because we needed to you actually walk into the office and meet Steve" and Cheryl said "but she's so cute I'd like to get some footage anyway."
So I went to the end of the hallway and was supposed to open the elevator doors, walk down the hall, and act like I was opening the lawyer's office door. The first time I walked so fast the camera man couldn't keep up with me. The second time I almost walked into the door and started laughing because I could see Kevin down the hallway. The third time I looked at the camera, which you aren't supposed to do. The fourth time my heel got caught in the gap between the elevator floor and the regular floor and I almost fell backwards. Finally I did it right. They also took footage following me from the back as I walked to the office door.
It was pretty fun except it was hard to not look at the camera, to slow down my walk without looking weird, and I think I was making weird faces because as soon as they would start filming me I wanted to laugh.
Anyway, I'll probably end up on the cutting room floor but maybe I'll get to be in another commercial. Also, Cheryl knows John Scott (he's a director) and I told her about my book and she said he might be interested in the story line at least. John loves rock climbing and diving (his kids started rock climbing at the age of 4). Special thanks go out to Kevin who is much better at promoting me than I am (he kept saying "tell her about the part where you were in the water with the great whites" and "tell her how you fell 70 feet").
The best part of the whole experience was that Cheryl does a ton of work for charities (battered women, ALS, down syndrome) and I told her about no barriers and paradox sports. I've always thought the paradox athletes would make at least a good documentary if not a tv series. They are all so funny and such amazing athletes. Anyway, we'll see if anything happens with that. And I hope I get to meet up with Cheryl again because she has a lot of ideas for helping non profits and I rarely meet people who are as engaged as Cheryl. I think I could learn a lot from her.
Saturday, October 8, 2011
oops, I did it again
I was walking down my stairs yesterday while simultaneously laughing at a cartoon in the New Yorker (in the background of the cartoon there's a woman tied to a chair and gagged while shadowy men are carrying something that looks like a TV out her apartment door - in the foreground is a cat staring at an almost opened can of food still attached to the electric can opener - the caption is "The Crime, to the best of Tiger's recollection") when I tripped and fell down the last two steps. Thought I was going to be okay, and walked down to Veda so my friend Cam could redo my highlights. But when I took my socks off for bed I realized I had broken my toe.
Today, it hurts. Wah.
My pedicure was not chipped at all. Nice job Karen at Voila!
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
productivity ratings
I made a list of tasks on Sunday that I need to finish by the end of the week and I've gotten almost all of them done. I am so a type. I like making lists though because it forces me to get shit done.
One thing I did today was refinance my house. I thought it was going to be a pain in the ass but it only took 25 minutes. My interest rate went from 5.75% to 3.3%. I should be able to pay my house off in less than 9 years, which would be nice, because I won't have to worry so much about making money.
My mortgage is with USAA. They are the best bank/insurance/brokerage company ever. The guy knocked my application fee down from $350 to $75. I'm barely paying any administrative costs. And my mortgage payment is $50 less a month even though I am doing a 15 year mortgage.
I'll be so glad when my house is paid off...
In other news I'm going to my first Denver Writer's meeting tomorrow since I had my surgery in January. Should be interesting...I'm going to read the new ending to my book.
One thing I did today was refinance my house. I thought it was going to be a pain in the ass but it only took 25 minutes. My interest rate went from 5.75% to 3.3%. I should be able to pay my house off in less than 9 years, which would be nice, because I won't have to worry so much about making money.
My mortgage is with USAA. They are the best bank/insurance/brokerage company ever. The guy knocked my application fee down from $350 to $75. I'm barely paying any administrative costs. And my mortgage payment is $50 less a month even though I am doing a 15 year mortgage.
I'll be so glad when my house is paid off...
In other news I'm going to my first Denver Writer's meeting tomorrow since I had my surgery in January. Should be interesting...I'm going to read the new ending to my book.
Sunday, October 2, 2011
ever wonder what would happen if you put mac & cheese in the microwave for 15 minutes?
 |
| The lid melted. |
 |
| I had to take it outside so my fire alarm wouldn't go off. |
Ech.
Microwave is in the garage airing out. I'm not sure if it will be useable again or not. I'm burning incense. My house smells disgusting...
Thursday, September 29, 2011
from Russia, with congratulations
A colleague of mine, who is russian, sent this to me yesterday on rosh hashanah.
He wrote:
The Cyrillic text of this Soviet era document (modified in the digital age, one would think) reads: "This is to confirm that the recipient of this form is a Zionist and has to be congratulated with the sweet holiday of Rosh Hashana. Shana Tova. Signed: the Major General of the Legal Service of the Soviet Arm Forces (signatures follow).
Very cool! Thanks for sending V!
He wrote:
The Cyrillic text of this Soviet era document (modified in the digital age, one would think) reads: "This is to confirm that the recipient of this form is a Zionist and has to be congratulated with the sweet holiday of Rosh Hashana. Shana Tova. Signed: the Major General of the Legal Service of the Soviet Arm Forces (signatures follow).
Very cool! Thanks for sending V!
perhaps they think I can now travel back in time
The incompetence of my company is starting to surprise even me. I just received a confirmation yesterday for a class I taught last week...
The best part is, I get dinged by my management for traveling without a confirmation. Did anyone in scheduling get in trouble? Um, no, because that would be logical.
The best part is, I get dinged by my management for traveling without a confirmation. Did anyone in scheduling get in trouble? Um, no, because that would be logical.
Monday, September 26, 2011
hampster box
This morning my sales guy was bragging about how he was upgraded to a Camaro. I was feeling bitter because of my shitty car. I said "I can always tell which car is mine because it's surrounded by nice cars and SUVs. I don't even check the board for my name anymore."
The sales guy said "Yeah, it's so funny. When I got into Oakland yesterday I noticed as I was picking up my car that they had one of those hampster boxes parked in the president's circle." I was like "hampster box?" and he said "you know, those boxy cars (he made a box with his hands), total piece of shit car, and in the commercial they have hampsters driving the car".
I said "when did you get in?" and he responded that he had arrived a half hour before I did.
I was like "dude, that was my car!" Then we all had to go out to the parking lot so everyone could make fun of my car.
It's nice that my misery is the source of amusement for the rest of my project team.
The sales guy said "Yeah, it's so funny. When I got into Oakland yesterday I noticed as I was picking up my car that they had one of those hampster boxes parked in the president's circle." I was like "hampster box?" and he said "you know, those boxy cars (he made a box with his hands), total piece of shit car, and in the commercial they have hampsters driving the car".
I said "when did you get in?" and he responded that he had arrived a half hour before I did.
I was like "dude, that was my car!" Then we all had to go out to the parking lot so everyone could make fun of my car.
It's nice that my misery is the source of amusement for the rest of my project team.
topless on the beach
At the end of a VERY long day today, which I spent untangling data, my customer said to me "How does this sound? Topless, on the beach, with a great bottle of wine." The sales guy sitting next to me said "Oh, that would be nice" and the other sales guy, at the head of the table, said "I would totally be up for that." My customer smiled at me and said "It's sounds unanimous. What do you think?"
I was like "Um, what?"
It turns out he said "tapas" not topless. Though, I think he DID say topless, and meant tapas. My hearing is a lot better than everyone else's at the table (or maybe they just block the sound of my voice and that's why I have to repeat myself).
I was like "Um, what?"
It turns out he said "tapas" not topless. Though, I think he DID say topless, and meant tapas. My hearing is a lot better than everyone else's at the table (or maybe they just block the sound of my voice and that's why I have to repeat myself).
Sunday, September 25, 2011
and how could I have forgotten, the woMan pat down
Maybe I shouldn't fly before 8 am. Besides the cranky bitch who took my wine bottle opener (I broke the knife off of it but apparently, after flying through DIA for 6 fucking years, someone thought it was a security threat) I was subjected to a pat down by a woMan. Meaning, I thought she was a man until she spoke to me.
I had just walked out of the x-ray whirrly gig and was arguing about my opener when the x-ray whirrly gig operator said "I need to examine your hair."
Um, what? I know in recent weeks my hair has taken on epic proportions (need a haircut). And I had just applied a Fekkai hair mask last night (best hair products ever) and just rinsed it out without washing my hair. And this morning I didn't bother drying it because it saves time to just roll down my window and dry it that way (sorry Cam). So I admit I looked a little crazy with all my cowlicks and curls that corkscrew out from the sides of my head. But still.
So I went to remove my sunglasses, which I had put on top of my head, and she yelled "Ma'am, DON'T MAKE ANY SUDDEN MOVES!" Like, it's 7 in the morning. I don't get moving until at least 10. She ran her fingers through my hair, at one point getting her hand stuck (I have knots). Then she looked at the top of my head for at least 20 seconds (blue latex gloves on my face, so gross) before finally telling me I could go.
What the fuck? What the fuck did I do to deserve having my hair man handled? I think all TSA employees should be randomly checked by their co-workers. It was humiliating. I do not like to be touched, especially by a woMan.
I have a small rash on my face where she touched it. Maybe I'll sue.
I had just walked out of the x-ray whirrly gig and was arguing about my opener when the x-ray whirrly gig operator said "I need to examine your hair."
Um, what? I know in recent weeks my hair has taken on epic proportions (need a haircut). And I had just applied a Fekkai hair mask last night (best hair products ever) and just rinsed it out without washing my hair. And this morning I didn't bother drying it because it saves time to just roll down my window and dry it that way (sorry Cam). So I admit I looked a little crazy with all my cowlicks and curls that corkscrew out from the sides of my head. But still.
So I went to remove my sunglasses, which I had put on top of my head, and she yelled "Ma'am, DON'T MAKE ANY SUDDEN MOVES!" Like, it's 7 in the morning. I don't get moving until at least 10. She ran her fingers through my hair, at one point getting her hand stuck (I have knots). Then she looked at the top of my head for at least 20 seconds (blue latex gloves on my face, so gross) before finally telling me I could go.
What the fuck? What the fuck did I do to deserve having my hair man handled? I think all TSA employees should be randomly checked by their co-workers. It was humiliating. I do not like to be touched, especially by a woMan.
I have a small rash on my face where she touched it. Maybe I'll sue.
the more things change, the more fucked up they get
Well, my luck doesn't seem to be changing...
On Saturday I finally started weeding through my emails from Friday. There was a reschedule notice for the class that got botched last week. I didn't bother to look at it until Saturday because I expect people to be able to do their jobs and not totally fuck things up. Which is stupid on my part, because they always fuck up.
My scheduler and the training coordinator talked to reschedule the class. My scheduler HAS MY SCHEDULE. It's HER JOB. But, somehow, the class got rescheduled for Wednesday instead of Friday as we had discussed. I am in California on Wednesday, making it hard to also teach a class in Maryland.
I sent out an email as soon as I realized the date was wrong. Of course, no one has answered me yet. Am I the only idiot who works on weekends? Apparently.
I used to get an ulcer over shit like this. Now, I don't even care.
In other news, I guess Hertz is bitter about my keyed up bumper broken car fiasco. When I got to Oakland I arrived at my Hertz parking spot to find a Nissan Versa. The only door lock is on the driver's side door. You can't unlock the other locks with the front locks, you have to unlock them manually. It, seriously, has manual roll up roll down windows.
And I'm in the president's circle.
TSA at Denver confiscated my wine bottle opener that I have been flying with for 10 years.
And I was walking down a street in Hayward when a guy came up and said "there's a smoking ban in all public places, you can't even smoke in your car, it's a $500 fine". Great. Because the police have nothing better to do.
Maybe I should try to get a job in Europe for a while...
On Saturday I finally started weeding through my emails from Friday. There was a reschedule notice for the class that got botched last week. I didn't bother to look at it until Saturday because I expect people to be able to do their jobs and not totally fuck things up. Which is stupid on my part, because they always fuck up.
My scheduler and the training coordinator talked to reschedule the class. My scheduler HAS MY SCHEDULE. It's HER JOB. But, somehow, the class got rescheduled for Wednesday instead of Friday as we had discussed. I am in California on Wednesday, making it hard to also teach a class in Maryland.
I sent out an email as soon as I realized the date was wrong. Of course, no one has answered me yet. Am I the only idiot who works on weekends? Apparently.
I used to get an ulcer over shit like this. Now, I don't even care.
In other news, I guess Hertz is bitter about my keyed up bumper broken car fiasco. When I got to Oakland I arrived at my Hertz parking spot to find a Nissan Versa. The only door lock is on the driver's side door. You can't unlock the other locks with the front locks, you have to unlock them manually. It, seriously, has manual roll up roll down windows.
And I'm in the president's circle.
TSA at Denver confiscated my wine bottle opener that I have been flying with for 10 years.
And I was walking down a street in Hayward when a guy came up and said "there's a smoking ban in all public places, you can't even smoke in your car, it's a $500 fine". Great. Because the police have nothing better to do.
Maybe I should try to get a job in Europe for a while...
Saturday, September 24, 2011
farts, cars, and bars
Thursday night after class S and I wandered around the parking garage for 30 minutes before we found someone who could help us find our car (for some reason I remembered the four digit number of our parking space and once the garage guy pointed us in the right direction we were able to find it). When we got to the car we discovered someone had keyed the driver's side door. Nice.
We had dinner at Il Porto even though S hates Italian food. Our waiter was Palestinian and he and S had a conversation in arabic, I assume part of which was making fun of me and my hair. Then we went to Union Street Public House for a glass of wine. I was saddened to find my favorite book shop, which I used to visit once a week when I lived in old town, is now a starbucks. Those fuckers.
For some reason everyone was staring at us in the bar. I wonder if it's in part because I get giggly when I drink and S was telling me a story about hiding a fart making machine in the cube of this uptight woman he worked with. He and his boss would go into a glass walled office so they could watch her reaction when they made the machine fart. I was laughing so hard that I couldn't hold my wine glass.
The next morning I woke up with a slight hangover and met S out in the parking lot. We walked over to the rental car and the back bumper was smashed in and the tail light broken. I started unleashing a string of curse words but S found a note on the windshield. It said "sorry I hit your car, please call". We couldn't figure out how the woman had hit the rental car. We were parked in the last space and there was at least 40 feet to the other set of parking spaces. Idiot.
S asked if I made up curse words or learned them. I answered both. Thank you and bless you US Marines.
The two days of classes went really, really well. We even managed to make it to the airport on time. I had to fill out a form about the car accident and the guy servicing the car at Hertz drove us to the airport because, he said, "you don't want to take that bus".
Somehow S manages to get people to do all kinds of stuff like that for him. I need to get his skills. Oh, except for the guy in the office where I was teaching who got upset because S asked him to make a copy. I bet he would have done it for me.
And, to cap off the whole weird trip, at the end of class this kid named T who sat next to me and was always the first to answer my questions (most of the time, incorrectly) walked in front of me, bowed down with both hands clasped in front of him, and said "thank you, your highness, for this class". Awkward. A sales guy from my company started laughing (as did the rest of the students) when T left. He said "I've never seen anyone do THAT before."
S says I should become a writer for a tv show.
We had dinner at Il Porto even though S hates Italian food. Our waiter was Palestinian and he and S had a conversation in arabic, I assume part of which was making fun of me and my hair. Then we went to Union Street Public House for a glass of wine. I was saddened to find my favorite book shop, which I used to visit once a week when I lived in old town, is now a starbucks. Those fuckers.
For some reason everyone was staring at us in the bar. I wonder if it's in part because I get giggly when I drink and S was telling me a story about hiding a fart making machine in the cube of this uptight woman he worked with. He and his boss would go into a glass walled office so they could watch her reaction when they made the machine fart. I was laughing so hard that I couldn't hold my wine glass.
The next morning I woke up with a slight hangover and met S out in the parking lot. We walked over to the rental car and the back bumper was smashed in and the tail light broken. I started unleashing a string of curse words but S found a note on the windshield. It said "sorry I hit your car, please call". We couldn't figure out how the woman had hit the rental car. We were parked in the last space and there was at least 40 feet to the other set of parking spaces. Idiot.
S asked if I made up curse words or learned them. I answered both. Thank you and bless you US Marines.
The two days of classes went really, really well. We even managed to make it to the airport on time. I had to fill out a form about the car accident and the guy servicing the car at Hertz drove us to the airport because, he said, "you don't want to take that bus".
Somehow S manages to get people to do all kinds of stuff like that for him. I need to get his skills. Oh, except for the guy in the office where I was teaching who got upset because S asked him to make a copy. I bet he would have done it for me.
And, to cap off the whole weird trip, at the end of class this kid named T who sat next to me and was always the first to answer my questions (most of the time, incorrectly) walked in front of me, bowed down with both hands clasped in front of him, and said "thank you, your highness, for this class". Awkward. A sales guy from my company started laughing (as did the rest of the students) when T left. He said "I've never seen anyone do THAT before."
S says I should become a writer for a tv show.
Thursday, September 22, 2011
faster than the speed of light!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Great article about scientists at CERN measuring particles traveling possibly faster than the speed of light.
http://www.npr.org/blogs/thetwo-way/2011/09/22/140713791/scientists-report-breaking-the-speed-of-light-but-can-it-be-true?ps=cprs
http://www.npr.org/blogs/thetwo-way/2011/09/22/140713791/scientists-report-breaking-the-speed-of-light-but-can-it-be-true?ps=cprs
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
we don't know where we're going
I arrived in DC today to teach the make up class for the laptop debacle class. I am hoping the events of today are not a harbinger of things to come.
I flew in and did some errands while waiting for my work pal S to arrive. He's not a consultant (he's, eek, in sales) but he agreed to help me out with the class in case there's more problems with the laptops (he's a geek by training but because of moral failings went to the dark side). We got to the office where the class is being held at 4:15. I was told I would have access to the classroom at 4 pm so I could set up. Ha.
We walked into the building and I was trying to look up the floor for the company. S said "it's 4" so we went to the fourth floor. Wrong floor. I found the address and we were supposed to be on the 3rd floor so we took the elevator there. There was a sign on the office door saying we had to check in with reception on the 7th floor. We went there. There was a sign on the office door on the 7th floor telling us to go to the 3rd floor because the 7th floor office had been closed.
We went back to the 3rd floor but the doors were locked and there was no intercom or anything. So I tried to call my contact. She answered and I managed to tell her we were waiting outside the office for her and then my cell coverage went to SOS. S tried to call her on his phone but his coverage was non-existent too. We got someone to let us into the office even though there was a sign on the door saying "NO UNBADGED VISITORS BEYOND THIS POINT" because my contact didn't bother to come out and get us. Ha. We don't need no stinkin badges.
The class room is a disaster (the people using it didn't leave until 430, leaving us only an hour for set up and testing - thanks asspipes!). Three odd shaped tables. One has a piece of metal sticking out of the corner. I just know someone is going to get impaled on it. Some of the power plugs don't work so we had to crawl around under tables to find ones that did work. Our contact is worried she won't have enough badges for the students. The room has, seriously, like 20 extra chairs meaning there's barely any room to move around (a whole herd of the chairs is in front of my white board - I need to use the white board - how I will reach it if they don't move the chairs, I don't know). Ech.
Then S's gps sent us on a wild goose chase through Alexandria trying to find our hotel. We got there, and it turns out the woman S contacted to make our reservation made it for 21 December instead of 21 September. The hotel was sold out of rooms. I could feel the steam starting to come out my ears. After traveling all day and driving in traffic from Dulles and then having to set up the crap class room and spending 45 minutes looking for the fucking hotel the last thing I wanted to be was homeless.
S said "when you get upset you stop looking at people" because I was staring at my blackberry thinking "why can't I just be an application that can live anywhere?" and wondering if S was serious about getting a hotel in Reston and trying to do that shit ass commute back to Alexandria tomorrow morning. In the rain (it's supposed to rain, it's raining on and off now). All the hotels in Alexandria are sold out.
I decided the best course of action was to go outside and smoke. Came back in the lobby after, problem solved. S thinks the guy gave us rooms (he had to over ride the computer system) because of me. I think he meant because front desk guy was afraid I would kill him if he tried to send us to another hotel. Or maybe he meant because I looked so cute in my "I'm not homeless, I just dress like I am" outfit with my blond afro threatening to engulf the lobby.
Yeah, I suffer. But at least this time I'm making someone in sales suffer with me. And, sales people always pick up the tab for dinner, which S did tonight.
You have to be glad for the little happy things in life and ignore all the other shit. Or so people who don't travel as much as I do keep telling me...
I flew in and did some errands while waiting for my work pal S to arrive. He's not a consultant (he's, eek, in sales) but he agreed to help me out with the class in case there's more problems with the laptops (he's a geek by training but because of moral failings went to the dark side). We got to the office where the class is being held at 4:15. I was told I would have access to the classroom at 4 pm so I could set up. Ha.
We walked into the building and I was trying to look up the floor for the company. S said "it's 4" so we went to the fourth floor. Wrong floor. I found the address and we were supposed to be on the 3rd floor so we took the elevator there. There was a sign on the office door saying we had to check in with reception on the 7th floor. We went there. There was a sign on the office door on the 7th floor telling us to go to the 3rd floor because the 7th floor office had been closed.
We went back to the 3rd floor but the doors were locked and there was no intercom or anything. So I tried to call my contact. She answered and I managed to tell her we were waiting outside the office for her and then my cell coverage went to SOS. S tried to call her on his phone but his coverage was non-existent too. We got someone to let us into the office even though there was a sign on the door saying "NO UNBADGED VISITORS BEYOND THIS POINT" because my contact didn't bother to come out and get us. Ha. We don't need no stinkin badges.
The class room is a disaster (the people using it didn't leave until 430, leaving us only an hour for set up and testing - thanks asspipes!). Three odd shaped tables. One has a piece of metal sticking out of the corner. I just know someone is going to get impaled on it. Some of the power plugs don't work so we had to crawl around under tables to find ones that did work. Our contact is worried she won't have enough badges for the students. The room has, seriously, like 20 extra chairs meaning there's barely any room to move around (a whole herd of the chairs is in front of my white board - I need to use the white board - how I will reach it if they don't move the chairs, I don't know). Ech.
Then S's gps sent us on a wild goose chase through Alexandria trying to find our hotel. We got there, and it turns out the woman S contacted to make our reservation made it for 21 December instead of 21 September. The hotel was sold out of rooms. I could feel the steam starting to come out my ears. After traveling all day and driving in traffic from Dulles and then having to set up the crap class room and spending 45 minutes looking for the fucking hotel the last thing I wanted to be was homeless.
S said "when you get upset you stop looking at people" because I was staring at my blackberry thinking "why can't I just be an application that can live anywhere?" and wondering if S was serious about getting a hotel in Reston and trying to do that shit ass commute back to Alexandria tomorrow morning. In the rain (it's supposed to rain, it's raining on and off now). All the hotels in Alexandria are sold out.
I decided the best course of action was to go outside and smoke. Came back in the lobby after, problem solved. S thinks the guy gave us rooms (he had to over ride the computer system) because of me. I think he meant because front desk guy was afraid I would kill him if he tried to send us to another hotel. Or maybe he meant because I looked so cute in my "I'm not homeless, I just dress like I am" outfit with my blond afro threatening to engulf the lobby.
Yeah, I suffer. But at least this time I'm making someone in sales suffer with me. And, sales people always pick up the tab for dinner, which S did tonight.
You have to be glad for the little happy things in life and ignore all the other shit. Or so people who don't travel as much as I do keep telling me...
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
because people always think I make this shit up
At 12:30 today I received the confirmation for the class I was supposed to teach today. With the added comment I can't make travel plans UNTIL I receive this confirmation.
My horoscope today said "feel free to ignore and move away from negative energy today". I wonder if I will get an apology from the scheduler. Probably not...
My horoscope today said "feel free to ignore and move away from negative energy today". I wonder if I will get an apology from the scheduler. Probably not...
got English?
So last week on Wednesday evening I
got an emergency request to teach a class this week in DC. The class
was going to happen Tuesday or Wednesday, they weren't sure. So I told
scheduling I could do Tuesday but that I was booked Wednesday.
I didn't hear anything back so I
sent an email Thursday asking if I needed to change my flight (I'm flying to DC tomorrow) and asking
if the class had been confirmed with the client (I can't travel without
a confirmation).
So Thursday afternoon I get an
email from the training coordinator that just said "Get it confirmed!"
There were others cc:ed on the email so I assumed the training
coordinator was asking someone else to get the class confirmed ASAP. I
am supposed to receive an automatically generated confirmation when the
class is "officially" confirmed (they have to enter the new status in a
database so a charge code can be generated). I did not receive one so
Friday I sent a final "WTF is going on with this class?" No response.
Also, the only information I had about this supposed class was the teach
location - no contact, no idea who the customer was, etc.
So, as I think any NORMAL person would assume, I assumed I was not teaching the class. Then I get a call at 3 PM yesterday from
the customer wanting to go over logistics for the class. I politely
told him I did not get a confirmation for the class and then I called
scheduling. It turns out the training coordinator meant to write "got it confirmed!" The scheduler insists I should have been able to discern that. She is mad at ME.
Given the amount of classes
canceled this year, the amount of last minute engagements that don't
happen, not getting a formal confirmation or client information, HOW THE
FUCK was I supposed to know there was a typo? Further, why didn't the
training coordinator respond back to my email friday asking for
clarification (she said she didn't have time to read it and just assumed
it was something she could get to on Monday). They, seriously, wanted
me to try to get a flight to DC last night (at this point it was 5 PM).
Even if I could have gotten a flight it would have gotten in super late
and then I would have had to be on site with the customer at 730 am.
A few years ago, I would have tried to make it. Now, fuck them.
The ironic part of the story is
that there are two consultants in DC that could have taken the class,
thus clearing up the problem, but they didn't want it.
My friend Camile says I should start taking anti-depressants. I don't think they would help.
Monday, September 19, 2011
fucking bees
I have to figure out a new way to attract hummingbirds that doesn't involve bees.
the origins of (hee) gas
I've just started up with my chaos class again. I did the first 12 lectures with my dad while we were on vacation 3 years ago but we didn't get through the whole thing. I bought my own copy and am going to complete it in the next few weeks. The class is given by Dr. Steven Strogatz.
One of the things I learned last night is that the word chaos, which is greek, is also the root of the word gas. Makes sense. Gas is a collection of particles flying all over the place.
Think about that next time you're on a plane next to a lactose intolerant middle aged man who's just had an ice cream cone.
One of the things I learned last night is that the word chaos, which is greek, is also the root of the word gas. Makes sense. Gas is a collection of particles flying all over the place.
Think about that next time you're on a plane next to a lactose intolerant middle aged man who's just had an ice cream cone.
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