There is a time in everyone’s life where everything is perfect. It may be a few seconds long, it may take years to get through.
It may be caused by luck, stupidity, lack of awareness, or any of a myriad of things that cause either true perfection, or at least the appearance of it.
Really, that’s all someone can hope for, the appearance of perfection. However you achieve your perfection, try not to think about it too deeply.
If I can spend an hour waiting in line, for 40 seconds of actual activity in the booth, so can you.
Get out there, vote. Bosses will give you the time, or the job isn’t worth it.
Do a little research, pick a party, whatever, just do it.
What good is a right, if you don’t exercize it?
We manage properties at work. I deal with our computers. Servers, workstations, connectivity, all of that falls in my domain.
Over a year ago, one of our VP’s decided to offer free internet at one of our properties. He set it all up with a company, they provided all of the service and support.
That company went belly up. Since then, I have been expected to support the residents of that building, and support the hardware involved, and troubleshoot their connections.
I hate it. I refused to do it when the calls first started coming in. I’ve demanded that they get a service contract with someone to take care of it. The original company put in consumer grade access points, running open source software. They continually just stop working. They’re all operating on some cobbled PoE system, that you can’t remotely connect to.
And the main connection to the building is a wireless connection that isn’t what I’d call stable in the first place.
It all adds up to a big headache, that I have to deal with constantly. Pissed off residents (college students), pissed off parents, pissed off coworkers that have to use it in the building office there. And they all come to me, instead of the person that made the choice to set this up in the first place. The same person that refuses to switch their access to a different provider because of the cost.
Fuck that shit, I’m not dealing with it anymore.
Since my arrival on the internet, I’ve become connected. With a little bit of work, anything I could want to know is at my fingertips. I can know as little or as much as I want to know about the world around me.
I’m generally not interested in “Current Events”. Politics, war, death, celebrities, I really could give a shit about. There’s this deluge of things that don’t really make any difference in my day to day life, that some agency feels I should know about. I try to stay up during elections about who stands where on issues, but with the current state in that field, how they stand during election usually doesn’t reflect how they’ll act in office.
The fatalist in me says that we’re all going to die anyway some day, so who cares about all the crap we’re inundated with every day. The responsible adult in me says that I should care, if not for myself, then for the generations of people that will come after me.
I just want to hide under a rock, and know that that will benefit no-one, especially myself.
I’d like to buy a new guitar.
I have 2 already, a beat up acoustic I was given by a co-worker when I was 18, and a cheap electric I bought about 6 years ago.
I’ve wanted a new acoustic since I first tried to tune mine. One of the tuning pegs is totally shot, and barely keeps it together. The spider gear is a different size than the normal gear, but it mostly works. The sound is, well, what you’d expect from a beat up free acoustic guitar.
I don’t have any delusions of being a good player. I know a few chords, and can muddle through a few songs appropriate to the era I grew up in. My left hand can’t seem to grasp any transition to a C chord, although it handles A and G just fine.
The problem lies in determining what I want. Do I want an acoustic electric? Do I want a 12 string? Do I want something I won’t be afraid to take camping, or do I want something that requires a shrine at home?
These are world altering matters here.
The gallon of mead that I’d stopped fermenting, was NOT stopped.
I’ve been watching it continue to bubble and carbonate. Last week I decided that there was no way it was done, considering the number of bubbles I could watch forming. Sunday, I headed over to the Wine and Hops shop to get another rubber stopper. I was going to put a water lock back on it, and let it ferment some more, not under pressure.
I removed the cap, and mead geysered out of the bottle. I’m not talking about the little spray you get from a shaken beer can. I’m talking about a plume of foam nearly 4 feet tall. I jammed the airlock in quickly, and foam was shooting through it, out the tiny holes in top.
I probably ended up with a pint and a half of mead lost, when the foaming finally stopped. I can only imagine what would have happened if the jar had shattered. I’d probably have plate glass chunks embedded in my walls. Or it would have cut my head off.
The color looks good so far, a nice amber shade. All three containers have a different color, even though the 3 gallon and 1 gallon had the same treatment. The geyser 1 gallon is the darkest, probably from its week of slow anaerobic fermentation.
The room where they’re stored sure smells good now. At some point in the next week, I’ll have to take another sample, and see where the alcohol level is sitting. And the taste, of course.
No story yesterday, work was pretty invasive.
I spent 11 hours at work, nearly 3 of which were just untangling power cables and putting some remotely managed power devices in place.
I don’t have any lead on the story, I usually write what I’ve posted minutes before posting it. I’ll try to get a double dose up for next week if I can.
"Hi, I’m blah blah from Norlight”
“Hi”
“We currently have a package for voice data and internet access, do you have a bundled provider?”
“No, we have separate providers for all of those things, and prefer it that way, because if one goes down, the others still work”
“well, we provide all these services with guaranteed problem resolutions, and I’d really like to talk with you more about them”
“We are happy with what we have, and are under contract. We aren’t going to switch anything.”
“Could I setup a time where I could meet with you, and discuss this further”
“I’m not sure why you’d want to do that, we aren’t switching”
“I’d really like to go over the services we can provide, how does Thursday sound for you?”
“We’re not switching.”
“Would an afternoon or morning time work better for you”
“Look, you can come meet with me, it’s not going to do you any good, and is just going to waste your time. Thursday at 11 is fine.”
Really, what are people like that thinking? I agreed to a meeting simply to waste their time. I’m not switching our plans. I don’t even have the ability to make that choice.
I hope he brings me free literature that I can throw away in front of him.
Well, sort of.
I racked the mead from it’s primary fermentation vessel to secondaries last night. I stopped fermentation on 1 gallon, and racked the other 4 gallons in new carboys. Still bubbling like crazy in it’s new home, so all should be well there.
Actively fermenting mead is difficult to siphon. It will effervesce in the tube, and eventually you’ll have to start the siphon again.
The gallon I added potassium sorbate too is pretty tasty. It’s at ~3.75% alcohol by volume. DW and I shared a (rather large, plastic) glass of it last night, and it was much better chilled (added ice cubes, how elegant) than it was warm. I think it’s still a little too sweet for most people, but you can definitely tell where it’s going. The maple flavor is fantastic, and doesn’t taste syrupy. I think I’ll keep that gallon, and let it age a bit. I’m a little concerned that its still fermenting, and I’m going to have a glass explosion, hopefully that’s not the case. I’ll keep it in the gallon jug its in now until it’s time to bottle everything. Hopefully that doesn’t ruin any flavor when I reopen it.
It’s still an amber color, just a bit lighter than it was when I started the process. I’m glad that I tried this. Hopefully it all remains potable, and will make nice Christmas gifts.
Age isn’t something you can really watch happening. It’s the sort of thing that sneaks up on you, little by little. One day, you stop listening to the Pop music station. The next, you stop watching Teenuramas on television. You start making sure your bills are never late. You only use sick days when you’re actually sick. You care more about your lawn.
Then you realize, that youth has fled, and you’re old. You’re driving a Buick or Cadillac. You’ve got a plan for when you can retire, and just sit back and yell at kids.
Walking at the mall becomes your morning ritual. You loudly tell your family members what they’re doing wrong.
And then you die.
See, there’s no way around that last thing. You can follow some other path, but you will eventually die. Everybody does. It’s one of the things that’s the same about everyone. Eventually, no matter how hard you struggle, or don’t struggle, you’ll die. You can leave a legacy, you can have children, but you’ll be dead. And eventually, even your legacy, and your children, will all be dead and gone too.
Remember, what you have, is all that you have.
I went to the Milwaukee Zoo with my wife, her brother, his 2 kids, his new wife and her niece on Saturday. The 7 of us piled into their Yukon. I generally disagree with SUV’s, but when you have 7 people, I can concede the point. It was roomy and comfortable.
I spent the morning walking around, and being Uncle Patrick. At some point, swinging the kids, and lifting them, something pulled in my upper right inner thigh. It’s probably a groin pull. Now every time I shift my right light, it feels like someone is punching me in my testicles. I aggravated it yesterday mowing the lawn (hopefully the last time this summer, since the gas can is empty, and I don’t want to have a full one sitting all winter to gel up).
I also determined that I don’t really like the zoo. It smells like kept animal. The animals also don’t look at all pleased to be locked up. Again, it’s a general dislike, not a firebombing sort of hatred. Next time I’m asked to go, I’ll pass.
I made some chili yesterday too. And by some, I mean 2 gallons of it. When I make chili, I always seem to go a little overboard. DW divided it all up into containers last night, and now my fridge looks like a Tupperware graveyard. I guess I know what I’ll be having for lunch for the next 3 weeks. I love chili, but my propensity for making too much is the reason I only make it every 6 months or so.
I should really look into a good way of freezing it or canning it or something.
Back in ‘97, some friends and I used IRC a lot. It was almost like an addiction, had to chat.
We broke up our Starcraft playing with chatting.
We’d chat about chatting.
mIRC, the client of choice, has a built in feature for sounds. You can type /sound blah.wav, and it’ll play blah.wav for you, and anyone else that has the sound.
We had a sound called wakeup.wav It was this incredibly loud, annoying guy screaming “Wake up”. We would play it for each other when trying to get someone’s attention, if they happend to be home, but not actively at their computer.
I could really use that sound this morning. Since I left work yesterday, I’ve slept ~12 hours. I’m still tired. Tonight, my cohort and I will be upgrading one of the software packages we use at work, and it’s probably going to take until midnight.
I have a feeling I’ll be needing the sound, and a pot of coffee by then.
Boy am I dragging this morning.
Started brewing up the first batch last night, and ended up having to boil some extra water out of the maple syrup. Woe. Woe is me.
I misread the scale on my hydrometer, so instead adding enough water to hit the targetted 1.12, I was at 1.02. I had to siphon off 2 gallons of the mix, and add another gallon of syrup (thanks ^T for getting me 2!), and got close to the number (hit 1.11).
So, here I had 2 gallons of brown water. The only pot I have big enough for 2 gallons is a 10 gallon behemoth I make chili in. On our stove, you almost can’t boil water in it, it’s so big. We dumped the water in it, put it on 2 burners, and let it heat.
And heat
And heat
And heat
3 hours later, it was boiled down enough to fit into a normal sized pot, so I transferred it over, and got some actual boiling action. Another hour in that pot, and finally, I had a quart of syrup.
And a house that smelled vaguely like a sugarbush, and felt like a tropical rainforest.
The liquid in the carboy is slowly turning into a black and tan, only it has 3 layers. The layer on the top is about 2” of almost white foam. Below that is a layer of dark tan, and the rest is the rich brown color of the original must. The water trap is trapping. The yeast is growing. All systems are a go. In about 2 weeks, I should have some sort of mapley alcohol.
How to write original material, day after day?
That’s the question I asked myself a couple of weeks ago, when I decided to start posting. I have these ideals, that I’d like to entertain any possible readers (and I know who all 3 of you are), even when I really don’t have anything to say when I type these out.
I have several thousand little stories from my childhood that shock and amuse. I’m writing that story that I post on Thursdays (pretty much no lead time, I write the part I post, just before I post, so you’re seeing raw first draft material.
And then there’s days where I’m just going to bitch about work, either allegorically, or specifically.
I’m going to limit myself on posting about my time wasting hobby of playing World of Warcraft. I’m not going to try and be a place people stop for global, technological or current news.
I will try to be entertaining though. At least once a month. When it’s precipitating.
Finally, a weekend where I didn’t have to drive, or go anywhere, or really do anything.
I skipped out on 2 birthday parties, and a family reunion, and felt kind of bad about it. I feel much better today though, after a weekend of puttering around the house, putting up shelf brackets getting the jungle I call a lawn cut, playing Warcraft…
I also made some beef short ribs on the grill. They were OK, but as I was eating them, I kept wishing they were pork.
Speaking of food, the diet is going well, I’m down 16lbs from where I started. I’ve basically stopped drinking soda and milk (can you believe milk is 100 calories a cup?), and have just been eating a little less.
If I can keep it up, I will fit in my old dress pants in a couple months, and won’t have to buy new ones. That’ll be awesomeness. Yes, awesomeness.
Peas!