Holy Smokes!

I miss publishing here everyday. I'm going to try and be more like everyone's favorite version of Whoopi Goldberg (the 1993 Whoopi) namely, back in the habit. (I'm sure 90% of my readership got the reference before I spelled it out (Donny!)).

Though pining for the days of updates-on-the-half-hour may be well and good, it'll only buy me about a paragraph and a half of post. As if the only thing I've had to write about in the last year and a half is not writing about this past year and a half.

Maybe it's this new push Google has made into the online social networking scene that's got me all riled up. Joining Google+ is having the same effect joining Twitter had on me all those many years ago (where I've just noticed my #Follwers exactly equals my #Followees!) But more importantly I've clearly remembered the html for hyperlinking without so much as a refresher. I can even embed videos! You should all watch this. Even if you already have because again, 90% of my readership is already following me on Google+ and I've been raving about it there for a while:

Recent personal updates:

Our team totally won pub trivia last week, beating our cheating nemesis Team Jedi in the process.

I also plan on winning tonight's beanbag tournament (and beating a nemesis or two along the way, if there are any lying about).

And tomorrow I will be collecting vegetables from our local Community Supported Agriculture pickup, or farming that duty out to a vengetable thief.

And finally, it's July, which means there are only one hundred twenty-one shopping days until Dan Goldin Day!

This is all probably the coffee talking,
-Tom

recommended download:
Matt Nathanson, Faster, and Mercy

Ramblings Insane Ramblings

In the last ten minutes work has slowed dramatically. In order to still appear as a productive member of the staff I've opened a text message window where I will be narrating a portion of the day.

I am currently looking out over the cubicles on the floor and am noticing that the majority of the guys in this office have recently had their hair cut.

I ordered sunglasses yesterday, finally pulling the trigger on the expenditure after being both eager (for new shades) and reluctant (to pay the asking price) for some time. They should arrive after a few short weeks during which the manufacturers will, no doubt, be selecting individual grains of volcanic silica suitable for melting into UV-resistant shaded glass; mining and separating aluminum ore from the dangerous and exotic caves beneath Machu Pichu (the only known, terrestrial, source of eyeglass-frame-grade aluminum ore); and grinding the volcanic lenses to my exactingly unique specifications.

I am also drinking the world's largest coffee, the Starbucks Venti. Peace! I am aware that the verysame Starbucks has announced the "Trenta," and, at 31 oz. you're hollering at me now that the Venti is only second in the world of giant coffees. Let me reassure you. The Trenta is, in fact, the world's largest coffee *cup* but not in fact the world's largest coffee, as the Starbukiristanians must in fact pour a Venti, and then a little bit more, in order to fill it. The scientists among you are cognizant of this fact, and I repeat it here for my none-sciencey readers, "It is physically impossible to pour a coffee larger than 23 oz."

I am currently reading a Mary Shelley classic, "Frankenstein" on a decidedly non-classic e-book for the iPod Touch.

I am not blown away by the story so far. Stoker's "Dracula" was much better.

Halfway through my coffee and it has become apparent that caffeine does not aid my concentration in any way. So I'm posting this now, if for no other reason than to increase the spam comment count here and prove (to myself, anyway) that blogging has not been beaten, murdered, and replaced by micro-blogging. (But we all really know that it has. I blame the whale.)

-T

Dread Pirate Roberts

Three days into my lateral promotion and things are starting to pick up. Management has decided to roll out a new break report which I'll be responsible for starting on Monday, and we're spending the week training for research and break resolution.

Also, I have Friday off to go golfing.

Other quick hits:
(1) I'm digging the New England Coffee Chocolate Cappucino flavor
(2) I haven't been to Dunkin' Donuts in over a month
(3) The ping pong table and my couch are now residing happily in my basement (so all is right with the feng-shui universe)
(4) and pretty soon we'll be replacing our heating system!

So I am now poor.
-t

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My Enemies Will Call Them Feathered Furies

Ok, I've found a new helmet for my jet-pack minions. Future minions, are you paying attention? You may qualify (after an arduous and terrifying examination of both your physical and mental toughness) to be a jet-pack trooper (which means you get A JET-PACK) and this badass mask:


Same designer as the old mask/helmet, but way more awesome and theatrical.

Also, I will probably equip a few of my whiny lackeys with jet-packs for coffee runs and small errands for this same reason:

-t

PS -My enemies probably won't call them "feathered furies" cool though that might sound...they probably won't call them anything because they'll be too busy screaming in terror.

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Conservation of Caffeine

I'm switching up from regular coffee to espresso-based drinks. I need the caffeine.

I don't plan on frequenting Starbucks, the waiting is interminable (and so are the customers!) and the prices are way too high.

I hope Dunkin' Donuts does a good latte.

The only other option, I think, is to get an ultra-caffeinated coffee option.

Where does the caffeine removed from de-caf go? Can't we find a way to re-insert that stimulant into the process? Is it just lost? Gone forever?

I'm going to apply for a grant from the NSF for the further study of my Law of Conservation of Caffeine. Like the Angular Momentum, or Energy, but for coffee. I imagine this will have some far-reaching ramifications.

De-caf, regular, Hi-caf coffees.

How much prize money comes with the Nobel Award?
-t

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The Present Dead Are Hilarious

Emphasis mine:

Researchers from Durham University (queried, we believe) 200 non-smoking participants, taking into account their intake of tea, coffee, energy drinks, caffeine pills or coffee consumed on an average day as well as their propensity to see things that were not there, hear voices, and/or sense the presence of the dead.

[via gizmodo]

What they don't tell you is the present dead all sound exactly like Bruce Campbell.

-t

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Staph-ing Problems

"I could use another coffee."
      -Buddy

This is how it started. "I could use another cup of coffee."

He couldn't use another cup of coffee. His cup of iced coffee was sitting on my desk, my desk, still half full. But, I had said "Ok, I'm going to go get a coffee now" meaning, of course, "I can't take this anymore. I have to get out. I need air!"

"This" is day one of buddy training.

It wasn't an invitation, I was trying to be nice, and I chose coffee as a convenient excuse because I knew he didn't need any more coffee - but Buddy invited himself along anyway.

Fine.

I've been holding back all day. I have been keeping the conversation on point: Training oriented jargon; Lots of acronyms. I have not recounted funny anecdotes from my vacation. I have not made small talk. Just the facts.

So we're standing in the elevator lobby, not saying anything, and Buddy, just to be saying something, I guess, says

"I had surgery this weekend...I actually got a staph infection. It's the kind you only get in hosptials."

[Pause]

"It's resistant to like 90% of medicine, so they gave me two antibiotics to take and the it's been making me feel really sick the past few days."


So, your slimy staph-infected surgery wound wants to come with me to Dunkin' Donuts? I don't think so, Buddy. I'm going to to CVS for some hand sanitizer, stat.

-t

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All-Points-Bulletin

I'm too tired to do most all of the work on my desk right now. And there is certainly a lot of it.

Dozens of problems, and hundreds of trades due to the audit cycle for two of the most active funds, and we've got another fund (a big one) that is selling off all of its holdings. Liquidating everything. I imagine some Hedge Fund Advisor somewhere owes a lot of money to some somebodies and is trying to cash in while the cashing is good (and all of his bones are still unbroken).

Incidentally, I'm in the middle of a book about Murder Incorporated, the enforcement and contract killing arm of the national crime syndicate ("The Syndicate") in the 1930s and 40s. The stories are incredible. Every two-and-a-half pages they detail another gangland execution and I've got to imagine screenwriters would be tripping over themselves trying to write these up into guaranteed hits staring all of Hollywood's tough guys. None of this Tom Hanks as a gunman baloney. The Coen brothers would be a shoo-in to direct anything from this narrative. Or Coppola.

And another thing! The language is amazing! I'd love to hear this book as told by the original author (B. Turkus, a NYC ADA) instead of reading the transcript. I think people really did talk like this, everyday, not just in the movies:

There was no method of murder their fiendish ingenuity overlooked. They used the gun, the strangling rope, the ice pick -- commonplace tools for homicide. There was the unimaginative mob-style ride, the shotgun blast on the lonely street. And there were the bizarre touches, too. Dozens were dropped into quicklime pits. Others were buried alive, cremated... Fantastic? It can't happen in your town? It did!"

The book is strewn with alliteration, catchy phrasing, and amusing direct address. "Fiendish ingenuity," "parasitic pirates..out to foment or break strikes for fancy fees." It is fantastic.

And speaking of gangs...Real Time Worlds, the makers of Crackdown for the Xbox 360, have just announced their next project: All Points Bulletin. A cops/criminals real time MMO action title set in a current day urban landscape. Looks incredible. Great concept, great team behind it, solid premise, here's a preview.

That's just a quick update. I'm heading out to grab a cup of coffee to combat my fatigue. Hope all of you in Boston are enjoying the snow.

Superfriends

I got a couple emails after the last post asking for some more me-centric details: What did I do at the wedding/reception.

I had a seat at table five. Adina and Mr. Anonymous also had places there. Adina, I saved your name card. I might mail it to you. Also, I ate your dessert. And Mr. Anonymous's.

The rest of the table was made up of...Christina, her boyfriend, Heater, her boyfriend, Joe, and Emily. Christina had moved to New York three months ago and had taken a bus to Boston for the wedding. It was an eight hour trip because of the snowstorm. She also repeatedly said she lived in Boston, not New York, explaining that "being here with all my old school friends, it's like I never left, so I'm sort of slipping back." Which, I know from experience (having never moved away and visited Boston) could happen to anyone.

Emily is from Australia. Naturally by way of introduction I said "So, you're from Australia....do you watch Lost?


Actually, I said "So, you're from Australia...Queensland?" and she was all "DUDE! YES! Why would you say Queensland? That's so killer!"

And I was all, well, it was either that or Sydney...those are the only two place I know. Then I asked if she watched Lost.

I'm not kidding. I spent the first twenty minutes of dinner rehashing season 3 so far, then I ate three desserts, then there was some crazy dancing going on. I requested some Jude - but the DJs didn't have it, so I requested something Irish for St. Patrick's Day, and they were like "...um, Cranberries?" and I was all, "dude, that is so lame" and then they were like, "Pogues?" and I was like, "Now we're talking."

I also requested some Bee Gees. Which, serendipitously, Erin had forgotten to give to the DJs as part of her required playlist, as she and her dad apparently dance to "Stayin' Alive" at every wedding they attend. So, Tom's phenomenal taste in music saves the day! I'm the hero of the wedding!

I then spent about half an hour talking video games with some of JP's high school friends and Emily, the Australian, because, it turns out, they're all we're all huge nerds, and two thirds of them work in the video gaming industry. I told everybody to play Prince of Persia, Emily made sure I'd promise to try Elder Scrolls Oblivion, and there was a general consensus that Burnout Revenge is an awesome game.

Then there was more dancing.

And then I was invited to the after party. Which was a freaking blast. I discussed movies all night with these people who were carting around liters of alcohol (becasue the hotel bar closed at 10 (wtf, RI?) to all floors and lounges of the hotel (eventually settling in the lobby - where they had COMPLIMENTARY COFFEE! which was totally sweet), specificaly Cohen brothers movies, and also did a fair share of debating comic-book-to-movie adaptaions, specifically alan Moore's V for Vendetta and Frank Miller's 300.

I was genuinely impressed by the caliber and quality of Erin's friends. I would not hesitate to place erinire's bunch right up there with our 18aers. I found it very encouraging that there are other awesome people out there, and that folks who aren't me had opportunities to be a part of that. I've got a small notion that maybe we could get everybody together. Erin's friends, my friends, and form the Superfriends! (You know, like Spiderman and his Amazing Friends (Firestar and Iceman) - also, I'd get to be Spiderman.)

They were some great people. Everybody, the whole time. It was wonderful.

-t

Soon Departed

I have nothing to do all next week - except take a drug test - but, aside from that fifteen minutes, I'm going to be super bored.

Normally I'd sit around and cruise the internet, but that's what I've been doing at work for the last month-and-a-half, and I've seen the whole thing.

And there's nothing good on tv during the day anyway.

So I'll be looking for good ways to kill some time. The best way? Lunch.

So, rise up, you blogging fans. Send me an email, post me a comment. Let's set something up. Coffee break Monday? Good. A Wednesday tour of the Sam Adams brewery? I'm down. Tuesday at that tiny resturant with the chips Jenny really likes? Sounds like a plan. Giant bowls of clam chowder at one of the seventeen Legal Seafood locations around town, including the one over in Cambridge? Excellent.

Tomorrw's my last day. Then it's a week of downtime.

Ok, this week, and the one before it...and the one before that... have been full of downtime too, but now I'm not getting paid for it, and don't have to stay in one building for six hours at a stretch.

That's a step in the right direction.

So call me - I'm hungry.

-t

Truckstop

"Hey, you got time for a truckstop?"

That's what these two guys next to me say to each other.

"Truckstop" means "coffee and a smoke."


Why don't they just say that? They're snagged on this one joke. They've probably been making coffee runs and smoke breaks for months, and sometime in those first few weeks somebody called it a truckstop, and somebody else laughed way too long and decided to always call it a truckstop, and none of them are smart enough to realize it's not funny, and that inventing your own jargon isn't ever cool when you work in mutual funds.

This is the same guy that calls the other one "Jimmy crack corn" because the other one asked him to. "Jimmy crack" for short.


A typical exchange goes like this:

"Hey, jimmy crack, how's it hangin?"

"Good, good. hey, me and Dave are heading out for a truckstop in five minutes. Are you working on anything? You want to come out on a truckstop? You got time?"

"Yeah, alright. I can swing that."



The only time that saying "you got time for a truckstop" is acceptible, at work, or ever, or even refering to a "truckstop" as something you "do," is if it's something illegal.

You get a free pass if "going out for a truckstop" means "smoking a joint in the parking garage" or is code for "a shot and a beer at O'Leary's"

But I doubt it. Neither one of these guys is cool enough to be smoking up or drinking at ten in the morning, though they both certinaly seem to think of themselves that way.

-t

Crash cometh, after the fall

I'm crashing.

I hate a medium coffee this morning with a breakfast sandwich, hoping the food would slow my body's absorption of the caffeine.

No such luck.

It might have gone better if I'd gotten any sleep last night, but I was tossing and turning until 3:30 AM.

That may have been due to the two cups of tea I sucked down before bedtime.

As more and more evidence comes to light it seems that I am some sort of binge drinker.

Caffeine, not alcohol.

I'd wager it's just as dangerous. Sitting in an interview sweating and jittery has got to be at least as bad for your chances as sitting there calmly and talking a bit more than usual.

Right?

I'm in trouble now. I'm coming down. I've got the shakes, not the jitters. I need some coffee, or something. Coke, maybe? I think we're out. The only thing left in the fridge is caffeine free diet stuff.

And seltzer water.

Blech.

I think I should probably eat something, lunch, a snack, something, but I'm not hungry at all.

Shakes.

Loss of appetite.

Crazy eyes.

All signs point to a problem. A problem with caffeine.

My bones feel weak...I'm having trouble lifting my arms...I think my head is about to fall off of my shoulders, it's too heavy, it's sinking - sinking - so heavy....

I'm a little afraid that the flashes of light I'm seeing aren't reflections, but are, in fact, bits of hallucinatory.

But I'm absolutely positive the elves are hallucinations.

They're carrying off my stapler.

(It's ok. I don't use it much.)

Their capes are very pretty. And they are riding green and yellow caterpillars. They are very smiley.

AUGH! CRAZY EYES AGAIN!



-t

Caf-fiend.

I'm back on caffeine. It just happened! I didn't mean it to be like this, but I can't control it, I neeeeeed it.

I was doing great for a while. One coffee, maybe two, a week. "Just a taste" I'd tell myself, "just to keep it under control." I thought I could stop if I wanted, whenever I wanted to, but last week, when the going got rough, I ran straight into caffeine's loving arms. Hell, I practically knocked down the door to the coffee place.

I'm not trying to make excuses, it's just, I had a really bad week last week. Insolent Bob was in rare form (at one point threatening to fire me - no, really), work was super busy, I hadn't been getting much sleep, deadlines were fast approaching, and I just needed a break!

So I bought coffee. Coffee is an escape. I took a walk. I didn't mean to end up in front of a Dunkin Donuts, it just happened. Before I knew it I'd walked in and ordered "small coffee, dark, with sugar."

I started justifying, "it's just a small coffee. just to get me through to lunch time. it's no big deal"

Well, IT IS A BIG DEAL!!!

By Wednesday I was ordering two small coffees at a time! "They're smalls, it's not as bad as ordering one medium!" On Thursday I had four cups! In one day! After being so good for so long! ON FRIDAY I ORDERED AN EXTRA LARGE ICED COFFEE!!! (I blame global warming)

And now, here I sit, in the clutches of full-on caffeine dependency. I'm hooked. I admit it, freely, and without reserve.

I LIKE MY COFFEE, OK? And you know what else? I'm never going back. There. I said it. I'm staying put, right here, on the caffeinated side of the fence. The rest of you? You non-jittery bastards? Yeah, you can just sit over there, where the world makes sense without coffee, and look at me, the guy with the shaky hands and enjoy the view. My brain's operating at a whole new level now. A whole new level.

I'm making connections and thinking new thoughts, I'm following the bean from the stalk to the roaster to the grinder to the cup. I'm thinking, we've got vanilla coffee, why not cherry vanilla coffee? I'm thinking of moving to a light-roast! OOh. I bet you didn't know light roast has more caffeine than dark roast, did you? Did you!?

Coffee is good for the immune system too. Lots of anti-oxidants to prevent aging, helps respiration and blood flow too. You didn't know that either, did you?

I knew you didn't. Well, now you do. And it's all thanks to coffee.

-t

Ode to OD of the Caffeine variety (I wrote this title after I wrote the post, read it with rhythm)

Ok, I have to get this down before I start freaking out.

My head feels like it’s about to float off of my shoulders, my hands and arms are shaking and jittery, I’m feeling the onset of a pressure headache and have lost feeling below mid-thigh (which is in itself a strange place to lose feeling from).

I got little to no sleep last night. I tried (in vain) to compensate by sleeping through my alarm this morning, not getting out of bed (I won’t say “waking”) until nine fifteen…or was it nine thirty? In any case I was moving extra slowly this morning, so slowly in fact that I did not leave the house until nine fifty-two.

I felt ok. I knew I was tired but didn’t feel it, I knew I needed sleep, but it hadn’t caught up to me yet. I was functioning semi-normally at work (where I arrived more than half an hour late) during the morning hours. I knew I was not running at peak efficiency but could not put my finger on exactly what I was not doing at peak efficiency (I now believe that the task “putting my finger on” something was one of the abilities that was no longer functioning properly).

Near lunch I decided to preempt the inevitable sleep-deprivation crash by ingesting a large amount of a commercially available stimulant, in this case: caffeine.

Large coffee. (for reference’s sake: I normally partake in coffee of the “small” variety perhaps once every two or three weeks due to my propensity for a dependence on the molecule. “Large” is a near-overdose.)

Right now I am freaking out.

Caffeine high. It is decidedly not pleasant. I feel incomprehension looming. I feel like I will lose all awareness of my surroundings in just a few moments. (HA! I will probably still be better at this job than stupid kid ever will be even catatonic.)

I think my brain is shutting down in sections. First, the back section. I can’t feel it. (Yes, I can normally “feel” my brain. Shutup, Adina.)
Next to go will be the middle section.
Then the frontal lobe. Or possibly my ears. (WRONG! Your ears you’ll keep and I’ll tell you why…)

These sentences are getting harder to write. My hands are jumping all over the keyboard. I might start vibrating at supersonic speeds soon, or, you know, explode.

There is a giant vacuum in my skull now. My brain, my brain is gone.

GONE I TELL YOU

Sabbatical

Instead of going to get something to eat on my lunch break I went to spend money.

Because it’s cathartic. And damn I needed catharsis today. (I wasn’t sure if “cathartic” meant what I thought it did, so I looked it up, that’s where I found “catharsis.” Also, it did mean what I thought it meant: “a purification or purgation that brings about spiritual renewal or release from tension.")

So I took a walk and ended up at Barnes & Noble. Exactly where I’d ended up yesterday at about the same time feeling about the same way.

Actually, it’s been pointed out that spending money isn’t really cathartic. So, I was in want of catharsis, but I was not in a position to get any short of deciding to immediately turn around, punch the stupid kid in the face, tell off my boss, and then quit with something like “I quit! You, you, and you I’ve always liked I’ll be at the bar down the street for the rest of the day, I’d be happy to see you join me. The rest of you? Screw.” That would have been cathartic.

So, bookstore, yesterday and today. Yesterday, though, I ended up not buying books, because who needs more books? I’ve still got three big ones sitting next to my bed I have been planning to read since December. Today, I did buy books. I looked around in Mystery, and then a little in Science Fiction, and then a little in Mystery again. At some point, I can’t quite remember where, I thought I heard someone call my name.

As I exited the store after making a purchase (with my 10% off membership card! How exciting) I turned and saw the stupid kid exiting right behind me. Using my Holmesian powers of deduction I concluded it was he, stupid kid, who had called my name in a futile attempt to get my attention, and perhaps engage in some sort of book-themed conversation outside of the office.

I hate the stupid kid.

Now, there may be some of you out there thinking to yourselves “This Tom must be a horrible person, he seems so negative and hateful.” To you people I say, you are probably right.

But, there was a time when I was happy, fun-loving, and generally looked at the world through rose-colored, slightly opaque, UVA/UVB blocking lenses. Those times are past. I’ve lost those glasses, alas.

Anyway, back to my story about just wanting to escape for maybe an hour and perhaps purchase a work or two of fiction that would then enable me to escape for a few hours later that was interrupted by the stupid kid.

So, I continue to walk down the sidewalk and take an abrupt turn, away from the office, and the stupid kid stops following. Having avoided him I then walked a little more before turning and trudging (real, actual trudging) back to my place of employment and the monumentally dumb project I’d been assigned right before lunch by hypermanager without guidelines that had sparked the escapade.

I get back. The project is no less impossible despite a brief retreat to the outside world. And then the stupid kid comes back! With a problem! BECAUSE HE IS STUPID AND I HATE HIM.

And, as I am in the middle of instructing him, for the third time, HOW TO ADD, he says

“So what books did you get?”

And he was lucky I was in the act of reaching with my right hand across my body to the other side of the desk for a pencil, because if he had not caught me in mid-motion away from him I swear my reflex would have been to punch him in the head. Lucky for him my reflexes are not what they once were, having been dulled by a year of corporate drudgery.

I said “Two books by James Ellroy.” And stopped talking to him. He waited to see if I’d say anything else, then he walked away.

I imagine that if he has a blog, and posts about work, it would not paint me in a positive light. “Tried to make friends with my supervisor again today, I asked him about books he’d purchased at Barnes and Noble, thinking that maybe today he would finally open up, and share just a little bit with me. I know I haven’t been successful before, and that maybe all the little trips over to his desk aren’t as endearing as I hope they are, but right now he’s my boss, and I don’t want a boss…… I just want a friend.”

I did not hate my job until stupid kid showed up. I knew it wasn’t the best job, I knew finance isn’t my favorite thing, but I did not know hatred until stupid kid joined the group.