Why I Normally Take A Patriots' Day Vacation

Patriots' Day (aka Marathon Monday) is celebrated in Boston today. This is great if you are (a) no gainfully employed (b) a student (c) a marathon runner (d) a member of the Red Sox organization

and, judging by the time I spent standing in the bitter early April morning wind at the bust stop today, (e) the majority of the MBTA bus fleet.

Thank goodness bus 184 was in operation, or I would be posting this from my cellphone still standing at the bus stop instead of my cubicle.

-t

PS, Patriots' Day is not great if you are (f)(*ing) gainfully employed and have to navigate the public transit system or roadways while the entire rest of the city takes the day off to get drunk on Beacon street.

Down And Out And Napping

They turn off the air conditioning in the office at jsut about 3 o'clock everyday.

Paired with the ridiculously nice weather today this is a recipe for disaster.

And by "disaster" I mean "a nap."

So I have effectively shut down for the day (for the weekend? for the rest of the quarter?). Or at least until I have a reason to move. (all year?)

Next week: more posting! (hahaha, I am hilarious)

-t

Scattered (aka LA X)

I almost posted today. (thoughts on the future growth of professional lacrosse and the challenges the sport faces in attracting a national audience (especially a television audience)(which are very similar, I feel, to the challenges soccer faces here in the US))

But, I felt the post deserved more research, and possibly an editor, or at least a rewrite. And so I scrapped it.

I just thought you all should know.

(the field is too big! one camera shot can't encompass routine plays without zooming out to God perspective (ie, everyone looks like ants!) and losing the ball)

(hockey is the nearest successful comparison, it works because the rink is much smaller than a lacrosse field, limiting the distance a camera needs to pan/zoom to keep up, and the black puck (mostly) stays on the white ice surface, a contrast that makes following its high-speed trajectory much easier for the viewer)

(football also takes place on a huge field, but most of the action is restricted to a stripe of field about ten yards wide (that's less than 1/10 of the whole field the camera needs to focus on. the exceptions are (a) long passes and run plays that break for big yards (easy to solve with one camera on the QB, and one wide shot for the ball-in-the-air; and a RB is nowhere near as fast as a lacrosse ball in flight (AND he is always at ground level!) and (b) kickoff/field goal/punt return plays which can all be covered with one camera at the end of the field)

(I'm getting a lot of clarity here...enough that I now realize I'm going to need a scatter plot in three dimensions to make this abundantly clear... stay tuned)

-t

Manic Miserable Monday

I am miserable. Because I hate my new job.

It's also possible that I don't actually care that much one way or the other about my new job, or about my old job, and that I am only miserable because it's Monday.

I would probably not be miserable if I were at home. I hate coming to the office. It is like, way too far away from Assassin's Creed II.

-t

---

How Else Would A Phone Sound?

My manager called a group-wide meeting for this afternoon, today's the big day! Lateral promotion! Woo!

I am, in reality, much more excited than I should be about getting to work on a new group of funds.

There is, really, very little actually changing.
(1) new funds
(2) new manager

That's it. I'm not even changing desks (which is stupid, I'm two rows away from the rest of the group, but the difficulties in transferring a phone line from one desk to another in this building are, apparently, insurmountable. Folks go years under the wrong name in a directory even after an approved switch.

I don't really understand it, they're not physically running new phone lines or splicing wires to a different cubicle. They just have to update the directory and switchboard which is (or should be) saved on some database on a server in the IT department.

gr8thanxbai

Something like "Find: Tom" then "ReplaceLocation: 12F76, 14GH5" (I assume each cubicle has an undecipherable code referencing some 3D seating plan) and "ReassignExtension: 5-4433, 5-4843"

Right? I bet, in real phone systems, those three commands are all folded into one. It's all software (or should be). There shouldn't be a need to move hardware at all. And even if there is, the phone itself should be able to talk to the server routing calls. "Sup, router, it's Calvin, serial no. 12345558133463LB0.54 Here's the 411: I'm at a new desk! Send any calls 4 me this way now, k? gr8thanxbai"

Right? Easy. (Yes, my phone's name is Calvin)

Ok, so I wasn't planning on a phone rant. Sorry about that. The point is: Change!

-t

---

Reason No.? (I've Lost Count)

Another item for the "Reasons To Hate My Job" list:

(?) Email like this:

---

To: Tom, our hero
From: Another Stupid Coworker

Is there any updates regarding the below?

---

A bachelor's degree is a prerequisite for having this jobs. Subject/verb agreement are not one.

GAH.

-t

---

Big Brother Update

Gmail was blocked, ages ago - and along with it, gchat - but, with google widgety things on the google homepage I could, at least, still view my inbox (the 10 most recent emails received, which is better than nothing).

Then, they blocked twitter.

Today, however, when I signed into my personalized google homepage (with Batman theme!) the gmail widget was blocked! Unbelievable.

I can't even read the subject line of the first ten emails in my inbox anymore!

And when I mentioned it to a coworker they informed me that youtube is also blocked! And not the homepage, either. Get this: You can access youtube.com and you can type a query into the search bar, and search, and view search results, but, if you click on a video to watch any of your results, BAM! BLOCKED!

due to

not kidding

"violence"

Which, maaaaybe makes sense for the NFL video the coworker was trying to watch (not really, it was Michael Vick's press conference, but it could be all NFL=violence)

it does NOT make sense for the next video he tried to pull up: THESE ADORABLE KITTENS!

which I can't embed because the access through youtube is blocked.

Google video is still available, which is why I can post this


[brief aside: Every one of the crazy protestors should have been handled in this same way. Testament to the first amendment, indeed!]



In conclusion: I fear it is only a matter of time before igoogle itself is blocked, and then, most worryingly, google reader. And after that? Who knows.

Which sucks, because this is not the economic climate I want to be in while looking for a new job.

-t

---

Alexander Graham Bell Deserves A Punch In The Nose

I get twenty to thirty phone calls a day, our phone system tracks all incoming and (most) outgoing calls.

There's a little "Call Log" button on my phone that will bring up either the Incoming or Outgoing list, which makes returning a missed call easy, no memorizing extensions, or laboriously typing names into the phone's directory via number pad

--Outgoing Call Log side rant: Any outside number or internal extension dialed from the number pad is recorded in the outgoing call log. Calling your bookie? Number's saved in the phone. Calling the team leader for help? Saved in the phone. BUT the numbers dialed from the directory service are NOT saved. It goes something like this:

"I need to call Leroy Jenkins, but I don't know his extension. I will look it up."

Press [Directory], Press [5][3][6][5][4][6][7], Select "Jenkins," Select "Call." Talk to Leroy, hang up.

Then, remember one more thing you need to ask Leroy, hit [Call Log][Outgoing] and then stare dumbly as you realize his number is not on the outgoing log.

This might be a handy feature if you're a spy and you're trying to hide people you're talking to. If you place every call through the directory your Outgoing Call Log will be entirely blank!

This is NOT handy when you need to call Leroy back for a quick check on a trade detail and you have to type his ENTIRE NAME into the directory, AGAIN. End rant.--

So, of the thirty or so calls made and received every day invariably when I check my Incoming Call Log, invariably, the most recent call is from Buddy.

Buddy who seems incapable of executing any decision on his own, ever.

I get three phone calls from Buddy for every one call from someone who is not Buddy. My incoming call list looks like this:

BUDDY
BUDDY
BUDDY
SAM
BUDDY
BUDDY
CARL
BUDDY
BUDDY
BUDDY
SAM
BUDDY
BUDDY
TIM
BUDDY
TIM
BUDDY

[Ring] "Hey, I was just going to book that trade you told me to book...is that ok?"

[Ring Ring] "I just sent you an email"

[Ring] "The pricing team asked me to forward them an email...should I go ahead and do that?"

I am not exaggerating. These are conversations that actually happen.

Once-in-a-while he'll walk over to my desk, rather than use the phone, but only for really important matters, like

"Pricing team just called. They said that they were going to email me a possible cash break and that I should ask the cash team to take a look at it...Ok?"

OK!? I know that I sometimes show a lack of initiative, but Buddy is achieving new lows in don'-t-it-yourself-ism.

Yes, you can send a cash break to the cash team! You have my permission! To do your job! Gah!

-t

---

Softball & Injury Update

Sorry for the delay, I've been typing since Wednesday morning, left-handed, because my right arm is out of commission.

The game started off strong. we were smoking the other team (who couldn't hit at all) and I'd made a few good stops in the field (and one put out on a kid going second to third which turned a routine 6-3 ground ball into a 6-3-5 DP. Bad base running).

Anyway in my first at bat I tried stretching a single into a double after a bobble in the outfield, git beat to the bag by the throw (a good three feet), and tried jumping over the tag, which, if it had worked would have put me in short center field, where I would have been out anyway, but I never made it, because their shortstop, an ogre of a kid swung the tag around at hip-height, taking out both my legs, up-ending me in the process, and sending me, shoulder-first, into the hard-as-concrete-painted-like-dirt infield.

I lost my glasses, and couldn't move my right arm. Took one pitch the next inning at first base (soft liner, right to me), then walked off the field, unable to throw, or hold a bat, or even lift my right arm.

I drove myself back, fearing a dislocated shoulder (not the injury as much as the repair), and went to the hospital.

x-rays revealed a distal clavicular fracture. No sports activities for 4-6 weeks. arm in a sling for at least two.

Hence, the left-handed typing.

-t

---

Over Overtime

-photo by Marcin Wichary

I've just received, through three layers of managerial strata, (three strata of management? managerial strata? Is layers of strata redundant?) a policy directive.

Please make sure you are taking and putting in for 30-45 minute lunch breaks. Our workday is scheduled to start at 9AM and salaries are based on a 36.25 hour work week (9AM-5PM, 45 minute lunch). Please make sure you take the allotted time for lunch. We've seen slower than usual trade volume, and overtime is something that is being closely scrutinized.

This was, by the way, received via Blind Carbon Copy (pop quiz: who thought the acronym for "carbon copy" would persist through the electronic age? bonus Al Gore joke: How is Al Gore using e-mail to save the planet?*)

So, receiving the memo via bcc I can assume a few things:
(1) I am not the only recipient
(2) I am not allowed to know the other recipients
(3) The other recipients are not to know me

Rhetorical question: If you had just been passed a note and were aware of the preceding statements regarding that note, would you, or would you not, conclude that you were involved in a criminal conspiracy?

YOU WOULD.

Or, at the very least, an international spy ring operating in enemy territory (everybody wave to the Chinese hackers who are right now copying blogger's source code).

You would not, in all probability, conclude that you were a valued member of a TEAM of PROFESSIONALS built to COOPERATE.

So, to...honor... this request, sent by some anonymous supervisor somewhere up the corporate ladder, and carefully stripped of all details of origin, I will (I know, I know, you're shocked) take a thirty-minute lunch break everyday.

I may take my book and head out to the park to read. I may wander around the city and enjoy the sunshine (or rain, as the case may be). I may sit at my desk staring blankly at my computer screen, catatonic.

Or, I might just take my lunch break at 4:30PM.

I haven't decided.
-t

---

Patronizing

I need a hobby, some outlet for my creative impulses.

Naturally, these impulses only hit me when I'm stuck at work, stuck without access to paint, sculpting clay, metal-working equipment, or any physical medium except Bic ink and white copy paper.

Which, as far as it goes, can still be transformed into art, but it usually takes more time, concentration, and studio space than I have the ability to devote since I am, still, stuck at work.

Lately I've been following a number of vinyl toy customizers on Twitter (like, squink, reactor88, and crisr). Naturally my inclination is to now get into the vinyl toy-modding scene. It probably wouldn't take up much room, there are plenty of nice, simple templates to work from, and the community is very vocal and supportive of one another.

It's also a great little outsider-art community because it hasn't been around long enough (hello, painting) to accumulate centuries of entitlement or exclusivity (there are no international universities dedicated to customizing Dunnies).

In lieu of a paint-covered workspace, then, I'm sitting in a cubicle with access to four colors of ink (three I brought from home), no time to explore artistic inspiration (when it strikes), and, worst(?), no way to exhibit the little I do doodle.

I don't have easy access to a scanner, and carting a week's worth of scrap paper scrawling home and digitizing each one has proved too laborious for my laziness to handle. So, no sketch blogs (one, two, three) either.

I'm not saying what I've accomplished (or what I haven't, actually) or what I could accomplish would necessarily be "high art" or even "average height art" (though my tastes don't run toward "low art") I'm only bemoaning the set of circumstances which prevent me from exploration and production of something I could be proud of.

So I'm stuck writing. Writing blog posts, actually. I still don't have the time to construct anything along a narrative arc, no story-telling beyond anecdotes.

Alas, not producing art pays the bills. Stupid Pilgrims.

-t

---

To Sleep, Percha-FIRE! FIRE! FIRE! FIRE!

The high-pitch wailing of the smoke alarm woke me from the first good night's slumber I'd been in the process of having in a good long while.

It was 3:39AM

The battery in the smoke alarm had, apparently, died, and the smoke alarm, lashing out blindly (deafeningly) for vengeance, blared its squealing peal to wake the dead and dead asleep alike.

I awoke completely stupored, baffled as to the source of what I am kindly describing as noise. The cellphone? No. The alarm clock? No. Auditory hallucination...mmmm...maybe? But, no.

I roused myself as best I could given the circumstances (it normally would take a few hours of wakefulness and a cup or two of coffee before I would willingly step into battle with such a sound), stumbled to the light switch and then stood, neck craned upward, eyelids still drooping heavily, contemplating this well-illuminated rest-ruining screaming plastic banshee.

The smoke alarm was just within the reach of my outstretched arms which I had raised in the hopes of striking at the smoke alarm's battery compartment, its power source, its brain. And strike it I did, with gusto, ripping the rectangular nine-volt battery from its cradle with a gleeful smile on my face, anticipatory joy for the return to slumber I expected.

Erroneously expected, that is. For, as I ripped the battery from this monstrosity of sound, this wailing warning signal, no relief was granted, no, instead, an echo began, released from the alarm's brethren, spread throughout the house, sensing a fellow cacophonous compatriot in dire straights, a call to aid (and ears) was sounded to alert any alarm in the vicinity, or indeed, any sonic sympathizers within range, of the horror ongoing now, at 3:45AM.

The battery, the battery was not enough. No, to slay this siren, now keening its final appeals, there must be another power source found and disabled, or else, its desire for a new battery appeased, before sleep would be granted.

And so I set to work, amid its klaxon clamor, to pry the offender from its ceiling perch, and pry again, the ties that bound the thing to call, its lifeline, the wailer's wire.

Once freed, it died, the soundless source at last, empty, silent, yet whole. A quarter hour more, it would have snapped. Instead, a sort of victory for sleep, interrupted though it was by this nonsense nocturnal notice its signal sounded last at 4:00AM

And heaven help the alarm clock this morning. I'm sleeping with a hammer under the pillow.

-t

---

Al Gore Ruined The Economy...On Purpose

Al Gore ruined the economy! It was his master plan all along! The Oscar-winning documentary was just a distraction!

When the economy slows down, two things happen. First, less carbon is emitted. Nobody likes to say this in polite company, but a global economic near-depression is probably the single best "program" one could imagine for curtailing carbon emissions. Vehicle miles traveled are down in the United States in spite of significantly cheaper gas prices; industrial production has slowed; China and India are not increasing their carbon usage as fast as anticipated. (link)

Al Gore is a genius.

I'd still vote him into office even now, after he's tipped his hand on his ultimate plan for the economy:



The first rule about cap-and-tax laws is you do not talk about cap-and-tax laws in an election year!



-t

---

Firewalled Again!

I caught an early train this morning so I would have plenty of time before work to review the teams competing in the NCAA tournament and then submit my bracket on espn.com.

So, at 8:45AM I started filling in the regions, (staying away from upsets) (I've got 3 1-seeds and a 2-seed in the finals)) and was ready to submit by 9:00AM.

I clicked "submit" AND THE CONFIRMATION PAGE WAS BLOCKED!

Kudos, I guess, to the IT department, for stringing me along for the entire deliberatory process only to shove the firewall in my face when I tried to make it official.

I will not, therefore, be participating in the espn bracket challenge, but I'll try to keep updates posted somewhere online.

Also, while we're talking about a firewall, can anyone offer an explanation why myspace, and facebook are blocked under the "dating and personals" rule but craigslist personals are freely available?

I can't check out pictures from my nephew's 1st St. Patrick's day on facebook, but I can pull this up in a full-screen browser (nsfw (my whole point, obv).

Corporate America, where Brackets are off limits, but Boobs are ok.

-t

Skip This Track

Pandora has ruined my iPod.

Not in any real tangible way, mind you, Pandora didn't up and jack my charger in the wrong way round, or induce a chemical reaction in the battery, but I can't skip songs anymore.

I mean, I can skip songs, I have the ability, the skip button still functions, but now, every time I reach over to jump past a song I don't care for this message flashes before my eyes, and my hand freezes:

Unfortunately our music licenses force us to limit the number of songs you may skip each hour. If you want to hear something else, try creating another station starting with a different artist or song.

Gah! I've been conditioned to listen to sub-par songs since Pandora is going to lock up anyway.

I've had to remind myself three times in the last hour alone that I'm listening to MY music on MY iPod and I can skip WHENEVER I WANT.

Stupid Pilgrims.

-t

Dumpster Diving

I'm reneging on my promise to stop complaining. I've got to rant, that's the whole reason this blog is here in the first place! To wit:

I've been assigned to the month end audit review team. This is not an enviable assignment, it is, in fact, an unenviable one. The audit review team's task, simply, is to review every single break across all aspects of each of the funds before the actual audit team performs their review.

This is exactly like tidying up before the maid comes to clean your apartment; except the funds aren't so much your apartment as they are the squalid dumpster in the alley behind your building.

It went down like this:
[ring, ring]
Hello, this is Tom
Will you be the contact for the audit team?
No
Well, you have to. And you're good at it. So you have to - the meeting's at two.
[click]


L-A-M-E.

Of course I'm good at it. I'm good at a lot of things. Mr. Clean is good at cleaning I doubt even he'd get excited about that back alley dumpster. Ability does not equal affinity.

I have been compelled into similar projects in the past. I have always resolved breaks at an above average rate. I have yet to see any substantial career gain.

And, since the economic meltdown has necessitated a salary and promotion freeze, I know for certain that the best possible outcome will be a hearty pat on the back from my immediate supervisor.

If I'm going to come out the other side of this being paid the same, having gained zero recognition within the firm, having moved not at all up the ladder, and, if it's all the same to you, I'd much rather spend the next month doing exactly what I've been doing which will net the same effect and avoid the entire back alley altogether.

Right?

-t

---

Just BE-CAUSE

When I was in fourth grade I decided to speak more intelligently. I had noticed that speaking in a Boston accent can sometimes make a person seem stupid. Un-educated.

So, from that realization, through high school and some of college, I did my best to minimize the soft r's and enunciate.

After graduation, however, I began falling back into the old speech patterns. I didn't give it much thought.

Until today, when I heard myself give an explanation for a trade variance that began with "cuz" instead of "because" - it wasn't even an abbreviated because ('cause), it was chopped all the way down to a "word" almost phonetically indistinguishable from "cud" (ew)! This is a place of business! Finance! Learned men and women think here! WE DO NOT WORK IN A BARN! And I thought to myself, "I sound like a jackass. Knock it off."

So I will. No more saying "cuz." or "S'an-thing" instead of "Is there anything." I'm sure there are more. It's disheartening, sometimes, but no longer...

ELOQUENCE IS BACK

-t

---

Hakcers! Help!

Dear Internet,

I would like to leverage your collective intelligence/experience/deviousness to solve a problem:

The kid that sits behind me plays (sucky) pandora music all day through his computer speakers. I would like to disable the speakers without disabling playback through the headphone jack (so disabling the soundcard is out)

Any ideas? Any command line code I can input when he gets up for a glass of water?

Ideally something that won't be a trivial fix for him, (so "mute all" is out)

Thanks, Internet!

-t

PS someday I will learn to speak a language more advanced that html (which, is probably not a language anyway, and almost certainly not rigorous)

Where To Find The Meaning Of Life

Wikipedia needs your help. Be honest, you use it ALL THE TIME. I do. And now they're running out of money.

Donate!

Wikipedia is never wrong.

-t

Plus, tax deductible (...probably).

Favorite wikipedia stuff:

• Browsing aerodynamics, especially Military and Experimental Aircraft which always leads to the Flying Bathtub


• Coconut Crabs, part of the fascinating Christmas Island ecosystem (red crabs, and the Yellow Crazy Ant)


• And, obviously, the Random Article feature

---

All Wrapped Up

Promote holiday cheer and good gift wrapping techniques!




Those of you who, like me (and Biggie), are excellent wrappers won't need to follow this link - but for those of you who are terrible wrappers (Stephen) it will be well worth the look.

Though, for those of you who are very good wrappers, but only want to seem terrible (Van Winkle) you can go here to find gifts wrapped poorly by design.


Happy holidays!
-t

---