Boston Blogtoberfest - Recapping a Future Event

I'm writing this on Tuesday October 17th. The following is a recap of the Boston Blogtoberfest party which is scheduled for Thursday October 19th.


I spent all of last weekend learning how to blog from my phone in case I needed to send any live updates from the Boston Blogtoberfest party. I'll be updating throughout the night.

• I arrived late, but there are still a few people who haven't shown up yet. Sarah met me at the door and gave me a ridiculously gaudy nametag. I was sure they had been only joking about that. I ordered a martini and started putting blogs to faces. There's a guy on the other side of the room with a blinking LED nametag.
  
  
• Jenny, who is mostly responsible for throwing this thing together, just got up on the bar to make an announcement. Something about we're here to talk about blogs, and lots of other stuff. Don't sit in the corner with your PDAs. Her nametag is completely understated and almost professional. I have to find out who was responsible for the nametag construction.
  
  
• I'm three martinis in. I just met one of the guy's from Bostonist, Jon. I asked him why none of the editorial staff over there is actually a native of Boston. He didn't have a good answer. Then he started talking about Tom Selleck playing detective Jesse Stone from Robert B. Parker's Paradise books. Don't get me wrong, Tom Selleck's cool - but as Magnum P.I., not Jesse Stone. Besides, Robert Urich as Spenser was miles beyond Selleck in some stupid made for TV movie.
  
  
• Fiver martinis. The last two I flipped from gin martinis to vodka martinis... or the other way around? Anyway. Ordering whichever kind of drink at the bar I was right by a group of guys talking to Hooker about the logo for his bike gang. I told him if the gang was going to have such a girly name then the logo should have streamers. Probably pink and green ones. Because nobody uses streamers anymore. Ok, back in a few more drinks...
  
  
• Right. When I said I'd be right back I lied. I'm still on my fifth. After I said that thing about pink and greens streamers Erin (not erinire) grabbed my shoulder to introduce herself. "You said 'pink and green streamers' and my blog is 'Pink and Green Girl'! Funny, right?" So she dragged me over to a "favorite music" conversation she was having with Dave who I was tempted to refer to as "Old Dave" except for the other one, David.
  
  
• Jenny and Sarah are both live blogging from the party. Jenny's over near the bar and Sarah is sitting at a table at almost the complete opposite end of the room. Somebody's looking over Jenny's shoulder telling her what to write.
  
  
• Ok. I had to close my phone browser to check what the girls are posting. The girl dictating to Jenny is Erin (erinire) and she's making fun of people's outfits. They haven't seen me yet (there wasn't any mention of flanel). Sarah is blogging about the food and some guy who was hitting on her.
  
  
• I'm starting to pay more attention to the rest of the group, a couple people are checking their cell phones. It won't be long until someone figures out there are some blogs being updated.
  
  
• Got it! One of the girls I haven't met just gave the heads up to Jenny. It might have been Krista or maybe Lori, anyway. Jenny's punching keys like crazy right now. I'll give you three to one the only reason she's not on her laptop is because there's no wifi signal way back here.
  
  
• Sarah noticed. She's walking over to the bar, drink in one hand, typing with the other.
  
  
• I keep logging out to check what they're posting. A lot of other people have started noticing. It's going back and forth in cyberspace, and a crowd has formed around the bloggers. This could be a sporting event. You can tell who the supporters are. There's a small group around Jenny and one around Sarah, and another group that's shifting back and forth. Most of them are online with their phones, a couple others are looking over shoulders and shouting out funny lines from the posts. I'd be hiding my head in shame, but it might make more sense to jump into the middle of the crowd. You know, hide in plain sight.
  
  
• This is both tragic and hilarious. It is also almost exactly like dueling banjoes or a trip to a piano bar. I'm shouting out requests like "Post about the bartender! Hot or not!" Later I'm going to try and provoke some people "Who's the coolest person you met tonight?!" and other questions of that ilk. But first... another drink!
  
  
• Ok. That ended in some hysterical laughter and a big hug. The dueling bloggers, I mean, not my last drink. Ok. I'm going to put my cell phone away. My eyes are starting to smart from the hunt-and-peck. Maybe next year the live-blogging will be a sanctioned event, I'll have to look into a qwerty keyboard.
  
  'Til next time!
  
  We'll see how it really goes. (And, no, I won't be wearing flanel)(Unless it's cold.)
  
  -t
  recommended download:
  Mission of Burma, Nicotine Bomb

The One Hand Throws The Whiskey, And The Other Throws The Gun

I can hardly take the near-constant stream of Queen coming from Buffalo's desk.

I indulge the kid, too often, because he's the butt of most of the jokes, insults, jibes, and situational comedy that goes on here.

But there's no reason to listen to Janet Jackson, or to watch Duran Duran videos at max volume. There's no reason to whistle along with whatever crappy music you've got playing.

There's certainly no reason to be playing the same two Queen songs over and over and over on a Tuesday morning.

Don't get me wrong, I like Queen as much as the next guy, unless Buffalo is the next guy. There's no reason to play Somebody To Love seventeen times an hour.

The one admonishment we were given during our entrance interview was "The company internet policy, as written, is pretty strict, but we don't really enforce it. Nothing's really blocked. The only thing you absolutely cannot do is stream audio or video. No video."

I'm tempted to narc this kid out. I won't, because it's a prick move. I'll just throw on my iPod and crank the volume up until I can't hear anything anymore ever.

Then I'll go back to catching up on three days worth of reports I don't understand. At lunch I'm going to submit a new resume to monster.

-t

recommended download:
Three Doors Down, Landing In London, or, Father's Son
and, if you simply can't avoid Queen, try It's Late

Faking It

I'm doing my best to feign sickness. I've asked twice for ibuprofen, complained about feeling cold and "feverish," I'm keeping my head down on my desk, and moving slowly, and only when necessary. Luckily, my nervousness is doing wonders for my fake shivering.

If they buy it, it means I'm home free (more precisely: vacation free). Hit the T to the airport by noon, back by Tuesday morning as if returned from the lip of the grave. "Had to stay out Monday because my doctor said I was still contagious. And believe me, I wouldn't wish what I had on any of you."

If they buy it I'm going to be "sick" every other weekend.

-t

Does this make sense to anyone?

To: me
From: Client (Marie)

Did that check request get sent to Ellen?

To: insolent guy
From: me

Mary wants to know if you sent the check request

To: me
From: insolent guy

Yes – tell her the date that it was sent form fax cover. Tell her you will resend and send an email to Ellen and also ask Marie to give a heads up to Ellen, because you are not certain that Ellen ever receives your emails cause she hasn’t responded to your requests in the past ( is this a true summarization). ??


what?
-t

Update:

As a fun exercise I decided to decipher the message within the gibberish. I imagine this is a lot like decoding the human genome:

Yes. I faxed the authorization to Ellen last Thursday. This email from Marie concerns me, however. It may indicate that Ellen did not receive my initial fax. Please fax another copy of the authorization to Ellen and ask her to confirm receipt via email. Also, I believe Ellen has had some problems receiving email from your account in the past, is this correct? To overcome this obstacle you might ask Marie to email Ellen in order to give her a "heads-up" on the incoming fax, explaining, of course, to Marie, the difficulties Ellen may be having receiving your emails. Allow me to summarize these details in a bulleted list, if I may -

• The fax was sent last week.
  
• Resend the fax.
  
• Reply to Marie's email to inform her that you will resend the fax to Ellen.
  
• Via email, inform Ellen of the incoming fax, and ask her to confirm receipt of said fax.
  
• Again, via email, ask Marie to request a confirmation email from Ellen as well. - if you would like to combine these two emails to Marie in the interest of efficiency, you may, but you should in no way feel obligated to do so.
  
• Finally, if you have a moment today, you might think about contacting the information technology department in regard to the problems you may or may not be having with your email account.
  
  Also, the only part of either email I actually needed was "Yes."
  

Hookey

Here's the plan:

I'd booked a flight out of Boston for Friday night at seven. I was going to leave work asap and hit the blue line to the airport. I'd scheduled my return flight for Monday at noon.

I'd planned on calling in sick Monday, then rolling in to work Tuesday looking hungover to complete the disguise (or, possibly, because I will be hungover Tuesday).

But

The day after I'd booked my tickets I learned that both my lazy manager and the insolent guy will be out of the office on Thursday and Friday. I called the airline to see if they could bump me to an earlier flight, maybe leaving early Friday insted of late.They offered me a flight for Thursday at three in the afternoon.

The question is this: Do I stick with my original plan, or

Leave work at lunch time Thursday, call in sick Friday and Monday, and roll into work looking hungover on Tuesday?

On the one hand, my manager won't know I'm gone Thursday or Friday, because he won't be here, and insolent guy won't be here to tell him.

On the other hand, I might be expected to approve reports or correspond with the client because I'll be the only one here.

But, back on the first hand, I've set up a rule to autoforward my work email to my gmail account so I could still, hypothetically, field client requests and at least respond with "I'll have to look at this Monday" (Knowing full well I won't be in Monday, but that my manager will be and he can look into it)

I'm flipping back and forth, but basically, less work, is good work.

-t

Detroit, Detroit

I was going to write a post about how much I love baseball, and how the best performances appear in the playoffs.

But really, what I'd rather say is:

Ha-ha! Ha-ha! Yankees lost! Ha-ha! Suck it, A-Rod!

Suck it also, Bug Unit, Steinbrenner, Johnny Damon, Mussina, Matsui, Sheffield, Giambi, and Jeter.

Congrats to the Detroit Tigers (who, you may remember, have been my pick to win the World Series since their season opening 40-games-over-.500 position, and what the hell happened to Shelton?). Kenny Rogers put up the most emotional pitching performance I've ever seen in the playoffs, and rightly so. He's been plagued with the Payton-Manning "Can't win the big one" stigma for a long time. It was totally exhilarating to watch him overcome the best lineup in baseball dominating over seven and two-thirds innings.

They had some clutch hitting (Ordonez), some help from the Yankees (A. Rodriguez at third, Giambi at first, Abreu in right), some calls went their way (I. Rodiriguez at third), some great defense (Monroe), incredible speed on the basepaths (Granderson), and great bullpen work (Jones).

They're still my pick to win the World Series, though the Oakland series might be tough. The A's have started playing like a contender.
ALCS: Detroit over Oakland in six.
NLCS: St. Louis over New York in seven.
WS: Detroit over St. Louis in six.


Go Tigers.

-t

recommended dowonload:
Matt Nathanson, Detroit Waves

A Short Multimedia Post

The pier at Santa Monica, and Pacific Ocean. Nice, eh?




Toni Braxton (Revealed)




Donny, excited about Toni Braxton.




A short video of Donny and Ray on vibrating chairs outside Brookstone.

-t

Snooze-d

I was going to write about how great work was yesterday (I did actual, real work, and finished a report one whole day early), and then how not-so-great it was at the end of the day (I waited until six-thirty for the VP to approve my report only to learn then that he had gone home for the day at five o'clock).

But instead, I'll write about my alarm clock not going off this morning.

My alarm clock didn't go off this morning. Don't panic. This has happened to me before. I'm sure it's happened to many of you as well. You wake up, realize you've overslept, throw on some clothes, grab a bagel on your way out the door, arrive at work half an hour late, explain about the alarm clock, feel harried until at least lunchtime, and then put it behind you.

Well, that's if you overshot your alarm clock by thirty minutes or so. Hit the snooze one too many times.

I normally wake up at seven forty-five. Today I woke up at eleven forty-five.

(That's four hours.)

Whoo-boy.

I didn't really believe it at first. My alarm read 11:45 AM exactly. Maybe I'd punched the "adjust hour" button instead of the "off" button. Maybe it was really 7:45 and my clock only read 11:45.

But, just in case, I'm not going to waste anytime lying in bed pondering. I jumped up and hit the shower, then threw on some clothes and flipped open my cell phone: 11:51 AM.

Ok. I was going to be a little late for work.

I grabbed my bag and flew out the door. I made my way to the T station and waited ten minutes for an inbound train.

It's cool. I'm late, you know? Strolling in at twelve-twenty isn't much different than strolling in at twelve-thirty, so I'm not going to kill myself. I'll get there when I get there.

I get here at twelve twenty-five. My lazy manager is standing near my desk with a couple other guys. "Did you have a training class this morning?" they asked. "Nope. Slept through my alarm. I woke up about half an hour ago" I replied.

"Why'd you say that?" you must be thinking. If they thought you were in class you're home free!

That's a good thought, and on any other day I would have gone that route, but, today is the first Friday of the month, and there are no classes that are offered during the first week of every month. I'd have no problem saying I'd attended a class that actually met, but I won't say I attended a class that was never even scheduled.

I have to draw the line somewhere.

Not that it was a big deal, the next thing my manager said was "Well, you didn't miss much."

Which I'd been counting on. So, I sat down and started saving down reports and thinking about how long I'd have to wait before I left for lunch...

-t

(btw, there are a bunch of new drawings up at intransitivity I put up on Wednesday, check 'em out)

Yes, squid pro roe...

I try to help wherever I can, and I do so for entirely selfish reasons:

I've got a good job. I hate it, but the pay is good, there's plenty of room for promotion, and there's practically no distinction between hard work and no work.

Would you like a job here?

I am, right now, in a position to recommend, or at the very least refer, any of you to our hiring manager. I know that most people need money, and even a job you hate is better than no job, so I will do what I can to help you get a job.

Because I am totally banking on somebody (anonymous internet readers I'm including you in this too, so take note) striking it super successful and then getting me a cushy job.

I will help out whoever I can, with the hope, or understanding, that whoever could help me out would. I think it's a great policy.

Seriously. I'd do it if I were in a position of power. I'd hire everybody I knew. I'd pay for masters degrees, I would hook, you, up.

Because what goes around comes around, quid pro quo, back scratching, and all of that.

I'm just saying, it'd be nice if one of you would make it big sometime in the next week or so. Thanks.

-t

Slacking

Technical difficulties prevented me from booking two necessary trades yesterday. I'd been exchanging emails with the IT team for a week trying to get the issue resolved.

Also, we use SecurIDs here. Maybe you've seen them. Yesterday the ID I needed to login to the broker's website expired. Instead of flashing a random number it's flashing "OFF." We contacted the broker and they're going to FedEx an new one to us tomorrow.

So I've got to book trades and download reports. I'm totally unable to do either of those things. It's five fifteen. So I left.

Slacking? I guess you could look at it that way, if you define slacking as "anything less than over and above absolute maximum effort." I could have stayed an extra fifteen minutes and swept the floors, or cleaned out the floor refrigerator, would I have been slacking then?

Justifiable? Yes. I was getting nothing done sitting in the office, I could get the same nothing done not sitting in the office, and, in the second case, enjoyed it a lot more.

So I left. Fifteen minutes early. Today this was sitting in my mailbox, sent yesterday at 5:27 PM:

From: lazymanager@cantmanage.com
To: Tom@wontwork.com; Bob@insolentguy.com

Tom,

During month end please check in before leaving and see if there is anything that needs to be done. At some point you’ll need to sit with Bob and start learning his other fund. Keep in mind most of our funds are 5 day deliverables. If nothing else try and catch up your 10 day fund as most of us are working late during this week.

Bob when you have time try to make sure to at least show Tom a few things and maybe have him take some notes.

Thanks


Ok, a little commentary: I'd rather not check in before leaving just so you can give me some busy work. In fact, that's the whole reason I didn't check in before I left.

-I'd love to sit and learn a new fund, but Bob's been responsible for training me since day one and I STILL DON'T KNOW ANYTHING. He may be your go-to guy during month-end, but he doesn't have the ability to teach anyone anything.

-I'm not going to work on my Day 10 fund when my Day 5 funds aren't done yet. That's stupid. By the way, thanks for all the help on my Day 5 funds.

-How is Bob supposed to have time to show me anything if you've all got so much of your own work that you have to stay late all week?

-Your managerial skills suck.

He left a barely comprehensible post-it note on my monitor too: "Please look into these september trades + also rollforward your mkt rec, I don't see it so Im not sure how pricing + pos.can be done"

What? And, just so you know, the reason the "mktrec" hasn't been rolled forward is because I don't know what the hell that is! IT WOULD BE NICE IF SOMEBODY WOULD TRAIN ME TO DO THE JOB I WAS HIRED FOR, FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!

AUGH
-tgme

Frustratinger and frustratinger

wtf. They're back there throwing paper airplanes around. I think Iposted about this when I was still in my old job. This is not professional.

I like most of the people here who I don't work with directly. I hate most of the people here I do work with directly. One them is the lazy insolent guy. He is currently throwing airplanes at other people. He's also the guy that sprayed somebody in the face with an inverted can of compressed air (the kind that reads "DO NOT tilt, shake, or turn can upside down before or during use as liquid contents may be dispersed. Liquid contents may cause frostbite on contact with skin.)

That's not cool.

Unprofessional, possibly actionable behaviour in the office by coworkers, combined with unprofessional inaction outside the office by clients is driving me mad.


Last week I sat for eight hours waiting for an email from the client who simply refused to correspond with me via email. He sent a number of reports to my manager, and to the insolent guy, replied to their questions, but sent nothing to me, and replied to none of my questions. Not surprisingly, the information I had requested was necessary to complete the report he had asked me for. I grew so frustrated I came very close to ripping the monitor off my computer and hurling it across the office. Last week, however, I also learned my lazy manager is leaving at the end of November, so maybe I should stick it out a couple of months, see if the situation improves.

Who knows. In unrelated news my new iPod is nice. I've watched the Ok, Go treadmill video on it about a billion times since downloading it.

-t

Thundercats, Silverhawks, and Skeletor, oh my!

I've been killing some time today reading up on some of my ill-remembered childhood favorites, He-Man, Thundercats, and Silverhawks. (Unlike the many accurately remembered childhood favorites like G.I. Joe, Gem, Darkwing Duck, Bananaman, Danger Mouse, You Can't Do That On Television, and Count Duckula.)

He-Man:

Growing up I had a He-Man action figure and his big green tiger. I'm pretty sure I was still so young that losing all of the accessories (He-Man's sword) wasn't a big deal to me, as long as I kept a handle on the saddle and faceplate for the cat. The saddle never stayed on.

My cousin, though, had the entire collection. Skeletor, the Castle Greyskull playset, the guy with the gears in his chest, and the telescoping neck, the guy with the arms and the mustache, other guys... everything. I'd go over sometimes and play with the castle and Skeletor, because they were both the coolest. Also, I remember thinking the castle belonged to Skeletor, because, hello, he's a skeleton and the castle is shaped like a giant skull. It looks like an evil castle. (this is actually what sparked the wikipedia research. I've always thought Greyskull was Skeletor's but apparently I was incorrect. Or maybe not...


Silverhawks:

This is one of the few cartoons I remember and no one else does. This is also one of the few cartoons I remember being totally cool when, in fact, upon reviewing it totally was not. Seriously the lamest theme song ever "Wings of silver, nerves of steel (Silverhawks)/ Partly metal, partly real (Silverhawks)" Lame, lame, lame lame lame. (And the battle cry was "Tallyhaaawwwwk!" Honestly.) But that's ok, I thought it was great as a kid, and what kid doesn't make mistakes of that nature? No kid. Unless you're a zombie. (Or possibly Martha Stewart - I imagine she spent one summer of her childhood lost, away from home, accidently locked in a dark basement of a summer cottage with no windows, rats for friends, and nothing but pinecones, four-inch ribbon, and craft glue to keep her company for the three months before they found her.)

But, the folks that brought us Silverhawks only did so because they enjoyed such success with their earlier release:


Thundercats:

Reading up on wikipedia you'll find some interesting trivia. While none of the Silverhawks or Thundercat lore/history/metadata is as prolific as He-Man's, there are still some entertaining questions to ... entertain.

For example: Did Cheetara favor Tygra or Lion-O? (Ignoring the fact that a comic series published after the cartoon ended has her winding up with Panthro)...

For me I've got to say Lion-O, because I'm pretty sure (and have been since I was four, though I probably couldn't have verbalized it until much later) that Tygra is totally, totally gay.

Look at him! Skin-tight leotard cut to capri length, the 'y' instead of an 'i' in his name, he's the "intelligent" one. Right.

On the other hand, I don't think she'd really prefer Lion-O, he looks like a perverted Bozo the Clown (and that guy already looked perverse).

Multi-cultural too (in a stereotypical kind of way): Panthro, the strong black mechanic who never finished high school; Tygra, the ..."intellectual" who lords his ivy-league education over everyone every chance he gets; Cheetara, the sexy Latina seductress who never contributes; Snarf, the white-trash, slow, hillbilly uncle; and the twins, Wilykat and Wilykit, average teenagers, probably hooked on video games and methamphetamines.

The bad guys though. Damn. They kicked ass. An ancient mummy channelling the spirits of the four great evils? Kick-ass! And he couldn't be killed! The worst you could do was drive him back to his sarcophagus. And Omens help you if Mum-Ra ever turned into one of his more powerful forms (Mum-Ra the Ever-Living, the All-Powerful, or the Master of Dreams). Scary stuff.

Skeletor had a floating head for a skull! Awesome! Though he did remind me a bit too much of the inept Cobra Commander from the Hasbro side of the aisle. Still. If you can get past the purple loin-cloth to see the floating skull, that's something.

-t

recommended download:
Theme - Silverhawks
Relient K, I'm Lion-O

Weekend, weak start

I'm tying out positions and prices this morning (the one thing I know how to do), this afternoon I'm going to move back to cash. I'll let you know how it works out.

Turns out the iPod shuffle isn't available until October 31st. I have use for a portable mp3 player before then, so I've taken steps to get one. Namely: I bought a 30GB black video iPod.

Also, I went to the dentist last week and got an electric toothbrush. Woo. And no cavities! (Even with all the free Coke I'm drinking at work!)

And this weekend I went golfing! In the rain. It was ok, we got nine holes in, we had a ton of food afterward, and I won a bottle of wine in the raffle!

It rained a lot, though. I'm still drying out (from the wine)(I mean the rain).

So, music is back in my life. And so is the written word. I'm concurrently reading Bill Simmons "Now I Can Die In Peace," Richard Dawkins "The God Delusion," and finishing up Orson Scott Card "The Worthing Saga."

That's just a quick update. While I'm out at lunch I'm going to try to think up a great topic for a post, like zombies.

-t

recommended download:
Red Hot Chili Peppers, Tell Me, Baby
Theme - The Mysterious Cities of Gold
Lucky Boys Confusion, 50 of my Closest Friends and a Keg of Killian's

No, not a rocketship, a Roman candle

It's three o'clock. I'm trying to tie out the nightmare fund. I'd emailed our client and asked for their trade file for the month to double check it against ours. That was at noon.

At two o'clock he emailed the trade file to my manager, who forwarded it to me. It was for the wrong fund. I emailed him back asking for the correct fund. I'm still waiting.

This is the third email I've sent to the client directly that hasn't gotten a response. I'm starting to suspect that he has blocked all emails from my address. If that is the case it will be very difficult to work with him.

Communication, after all, is key to a successful relationship.

In other news I've been assigned a new fund. This brings my total up to three: The nightmare fund, which has never tied out; The easy fund, which sort of ties out sometimes, because I inherited a variance of $152.67, so to tie out I need to make my number exactly that much lower than the client's; and this new fund, which I was assigned on Monday, and have yet to receive any training on.

For those of you keeping track, that is
# of funds responsible for = 3
# of funds trained to process = 0

I am on a rocketship ride up the corporate ladder.
-t

Material Concerns

Three days before I flew out to Los Angeles I dropped my iPod.

I had picked up my laptop, not realizing I had left the iPod sitting on top of it (the untold hazards of owning everything in "macintosh white"), and it crash jarringly to the floor.

It still worked, though. It was skipping over a few songs, but that's to be expected, the fall happened from five feet off the ground, how could the hard drive not be a little scratched up?

But I've had it for two years, and I hear most of these things die the week after the warranty's up, so I figured I was doing better than average.

I took it on the flight to L.A. without incident and forgot all about the drop because I was distracted by the incredibly loud whining of the jet engines. I resolved on the spot to purchase noise-cancelling headphones before my next flight.

When I got back home, a week later, I started thinking about the drop again. Thinking that the drop was probably the reason my iPod now refused to turn on. And boy does that suck.

I can't explain why it worked for six days to and from Los Angeles, why it chose to sound its death rattle the night I returned, but I'm just as happy to chalk it up to the drop. It's no longer important.

What's important now, is that I am without music on my morning commute. I figured I'd better get a pretty good book to read.

Luckily, I had one (The Worthing Saga, Orson Scott Card, I'd recommend it if you're a sci-fi fan). It's been doing remarkably well in distracting me from the train, fellow passengers, and the impending eight hours in the office. So well, in fact, that I nearly missed my stop, twice, this week.

Which brings me to the point of the entry: Moderation.

I had resolved to purchase noise cancelling headphones, and am compelled to purchase a new iPod.

So I decided to go all out. Bose Quietcomfort headphones for $300, a brand new 30GB iPod for $250, brand new, retail prices all around.

(are any of you bored yet? I don't have anywhere to go with this entry, go right ahead and skip to the end)

Thankfully, before I made either of those purchases I came to my senses.

I found a set of Sony headphones that retail for $150, and I found them even cheaper than that on ebay. Then I bought a brand new 1GB iPod shuffle, to save some money over the full size model.

Now I'm just waiting for everything to be shipped out. Hopefully I won't finish my book before then.

I'm only posting because I'm bored almost to tears at work. Congratulations if you made it this far.

-t

recommended downloads:
Lucky Boys Confusion, Broken, and Medicine and Gasoline

-- --- .-. ... . -.-. --- -.. .

I've decided to learn Morse Code. It will probably be useful if I'm ever stranded on an island somewhere like Tom Hanks in Castaway, or Brian in Hatchet... wait - learning to build a fire or catch my own food would probably be more useful in those situations.

Morse Code would be useful if I were Jack Ryan aboard the U.S.S. Dallas trying to communicate with the commander of a Russian nuclear submarine who wished to defect. And that could totally happen.

The trick to learning Morse Code, as originally described in the book Cheaper By The Dozen (great book, btw, totally hilarious), is to assign each Morse letter an English word wherein the stressed sylables in the word correspond a "dash" in Morse Code, and the unstressed sylables correspond to the "dots."

For example, the letter 'A' is represented with a "dot-dash" [ . -], and assigned the word "about" [a-BOUT]

Other nice examples are:

D [ - . . ] DAN-ger-ous
I [ . . ] aye-aye (ok, that doesn't really start with an 'i', tough)
O [ - - - ] OH-MY-GOD! (more than one word is ok)

Anyway. I've written out the Morse alphabet and tacked it up next to my computer. Now all I need is a telegraph machine to practice with.

-.-. .- ... -.-. .- -.. .. -. --. .-.. -.-- -.-- --- ..- .-. ... --..--
- --- --

(Cascadingly yours,
Tom)

Once I get this down I'm going to move on to Braille.

Reason for Chat

One of the reasons I couldn't survive a workday without instant messaging:

Samantha: okay, i just read this sentence:
"In mid-October 2002, a nuclear analyst named Simon Dodge in the State Department's intelligence division was forwarded copies of documents purporting to outline a recent sale of 500 tons of yellowcake uranium—which can be enriched for use in nuclear weapons—from the impoverished African nation of Niger to Iraq."
and all i thought was "mmm.....yellow cake"

Ghost of a Blogger

I apologize for being incomunicado today. Google crashed.

Well, not exactly. I opened my internet explorer this morning, as I would any other morning, and tried to get in to gmail, so I could chat.

After a lengthly load time a "file not found" error came up. Had gmail been ... (dun, dun, dun) blocked?

My very next thought was to go immediately to blogger and rant and rave about being cut off from the instant messaging community. (Which is, after all, the thing that keeps me most sane during these trying hours among the workforce.)

But I couldn't! Blogger was also missing! I was furious!

How dare they take not only gmail, and with it my instant messaging abilities, but also blogger! I couldn't even rant to my faithful(ly bored) audience about the injustice of it all! Quick! Distract yourself with the blog updates in your RSS reader!

FILE NOT FOUND! I was cut off!!

Forced to sit and navigate blogs the old-fashioned way, remembering URLs and clicking hyperlinks! A wandering spirit floating on the peripheral of blogingdom, only able to read posts, and not participate by writing any, barely able to let my presence be known by commenting. . .

I CAN'T COMMENT EITHER?!


No, ladies and gentlemen, any and all google applications, sites, servers, etc, that required a Google account and password were gone! Struck from the web as if they'd never existed!

Nothingness

But, as you can plainly see, I'm back. Rumor has it there was some stickiness between our pal Google, that monster of the interweb, and Comcast, that local tste fly of the ISPs, which had caused the blackout.

But it's fixed. So I'm back. I hope none of you worried. Thirty-six hours without a post is a bit unlike me, but everything's k.o. now.

-t

Contact

It's going on three days with no contact from my manager. This would be ok if things were going well. But things aren't going well, and he knows it, and yet, he doesn't even check in.

He stops by Eddy's desk everyday. Eddy and I sit back-to-back across the aisle. All my lazy manager would have to do is simply turn around. But he doesn't.

Oh, here he comes!... He walked right by. He's talking to Pete about the football pool. "Where am I supposed to send the check?"

I don't get it! Is there a theory that explains his actions? Why doesn't he check in?

1. Too busy - Clearly not, if he has time to check in with Eddy and to chat about football.

2. I'm wearing an ugly shirt and he can't bear to look at me - Nope. First, my shirt isn't ugly, and second, even if it were he could send me an email. Which would take less time, and he wouldn't even have to get up!

3. He hates me - Come on. Seriously? I'm a likeable guy. That's not it.

4. ?

Any theories, readers?
-t

Update: I've just received an email from my manager. This is the first contact in twenty-seven hours. (an email Wednesday at 10AM, nothing Thursday, Friday, Monday until an email at 3 PM)

It reads:

Tom,

Bob and Michael are meeting at my desk at 4 to discuss some fund changes. Can you swing by my desk at 4pm today so we can all go over everything? It should only take a minute or 2

Thanks
Lazy Manager

FYI: Bob is the lazy insolent guy in my group, and I've never heard of Michael before. This should be an interesting two minute meeting.

Don't buy the $5 Ipod

I've been looking on ebay for a new Ipod (iPod?), and last night I found a brand new 1GB Ipod Nano Buy It Now for $5.00!

And I thought to myself, "This has got to be a scam."

On the other hand, what if it's not a scam? What if there is some poor foreign ebay seller who would gladly part for an mp3 player in exchange for five of the Mighty U.S. Dollars? (Right, because exchange rates are so favoring the dollar right now.) Or maybe some moron typed in $5.00 instead of $50.00, or maybe this is part of a shipment that fell off a truck. Or maybe it's a clever front for funding terrorist operations.

But, at five bucks, can I afford to not take the shot at a brand new iPod for 96% off? It's only five bucks!


Well, turns out, it is a scam. I received this email today:

Gentile Thomas,

questo è un avviso del team Regolamento e Sicurezza di eBay relativo a:

numero oggetto - 260034868881

titolo dell'oggetto - IPOD NANO 1GB

Dalle informazioni in nostro possesso risulta che hai fatto offerte o ti sei aggiudicato l’oggetto messo in vendita nell’inserzione sopra indicata. Ti informiamo che abbiamo recentemente chiuso tutte le inserzioni di questo venditore e limitato la sua capacità di utilizzare i servizi di eBay. Per motivi di privacy, non possiamo fornire ulteriori informazioni.

Se ricevi un’email in cui qualcuno sostiene di essere il venditore e ti chiede di concludere la transazione al di fuori di eBay, ti consigliamo vivamente di ignorare la richiesta perché ti esporresti al rischio di frodi e non saresti coperto dal Programma di protezione acquirenti di eBay.

Se non hai ancora inviato il pagamento al venditore, ti raccomandiamo di non concludere la transazione.

Se hai già pagato e vuoi provare a recuperare l'importo, ti consigliamo di:

- chiedere il rimborso al venditore;
- se hai pagato con assegno, chiedere alla tua banca di sospendere il pagamento;
- se hai pagato con carta di credito, contattare il reparto di sicurezza della banca che l'ha emessa e chiedere di bloccare il pagamento;
- se hai effettuato il pagamento tramite vaglia o bonifico bancario, contattare al più presto la banca e chiedere di annullarlo;
- se hai effettuato il pagamento con un servizio trasferimento fondi come Western Union o Moneygram, contattare la società che ha effettuato il servizio;
- se hai pagato con PayPal, presentare un reclamo dalla pagina:

https://www.paypal.com/it/bcp

- se hai pagato con un metodo di pagamento accettato da eBay, presentare un reclamo al Programma di protezione degli acquirenti di eBay dalla pagina

http://pages.ebay.it/help/confidence/items-fraud.html

Nello Spazio Sicurezza di eBay puoi trovare diversi suggerimenti su come effettuare transazioni in modo sicuro:

/csg/p?sicurezza.ebay.it/index.html

Se avessi bisogno di ulteriori chiarimenti, ti invitiamo a contattarci rispondendo direttamente a quest’email.

Cordiali saluti,

Assistenza clienti (Regolamento e Sicurezza)
eBay Inc

for those readers who don't speak Italian, this is what Google Translator gave me:

Kind Thomas,

this is an warning of the team Regulations and Emergency of eBay relative to:

number object - 260034868881
tito it of object - IPOD DWARF 1GB

From the information in our possession she turns out that you have made offered or you six adjudicated the object put in sale in the indicated insertion over. We inform to you that recently we have closed all the insertions of this vendor and limited its ability to use the services of eBay. For reasons of privacy, we cannot supply ulterior information.

If you receive an email in which someone it supports of being the vendor and it asks you to conclude the transaction to outside of eBay, we lively advise you to ignore the demand because you would expose yourself to the risk of swindles and you would not be covered from the Program of protection purchasers of eBay.

If you have not still sended the payment to the vendor, we recommend you not to conclude the transaction.

If you have already paid and you want to try to recover the amount, we advise you of:
- to ask the reimbursement the vendor;
- if you have paid with check, to ask your bank suspend payment;
- if you have paid with credit card, to contact the unit of emergency of the bank that has emitted it and to ask to block the payment;
- if you have carried out the payment through money order or banking discount, to contact to the more soon bank and to ask to cancel it;
- if you have carried out the payment with a service transfer deep like Western Union or Moneygram, to contact the society that has carried out the service;
- if you have paid with PayPal, to introduce a claim from the page: https://www.paypal.com/it/bcp
- if you have paid with a form of payment accepted from eBay, to introduce a claim to the Program of protection of the purchasers of eBay from the page http://pages.ebay.it/help/confidence/items-fraud.html

In Spazio Emergency of eBay you can find various suggestions on like carrying out transactions in sure way: /csg/p? sicurezza.ebay.it/index.html

If you had need of ulterior clarifications, we invite to you to contact itself answering directly to this email.

Sincerely yours,

Attendance customers (Regulations and Emergency)
eBay Inc.

But it was worth the shot, right?
-t

"Tom Brady sucks"

That is care of Curtis, a Philadelphia Eagles fan. That's how I started my day, ten minutes ago. Curtis sits in the first desk. I walked through the door to my office, right into the middle of a football discussion. Curtis and four Patriots fans. "Tom Brady sucks, he's just an awful, awful quarterback."

If there were ever a day I wanted my iPod, it would be today. Or any other day before noon.

I walked all the way over to my desk, Curtis still within hearing range, and as I sat down I hear "So, both our teams suck, huh?" from the other side of the cubicle. That's coming from Martin, our resident Buffalo Bills fan.

I don't hate football. Mostly, though, I hate talking about football, this "Monday morning quarterbacking." Hate it.

Football doesn't have the elegance of baseball, doesn't have the strategic nuances. And, as much as I appreciate and enjoy talking about baseball, I hate doing that on Monday mornings too.

I should have my own office, so I come in, and shut my door, and work in isolation in the morning. This cubeville location doesn't work for me. I'm too close to other people.

-t

Nightmare of nightmares

Ok, third post today, woo! Be sure to read the other two. They're so good they've got comments! Both of them!

Back to the nightmare:

(Skip the section in brackets if you are either (a) familiar with the history of my nightmare fund, or (b) if you are Adina.)


[We got a new fund. My Senior Manager said he'd handle everything and train people. He didn't, then he quit.

I, somehow, got stuck with the fund. Me, the guy who doesn't know how to do anything (true. not hyperbole, actual truth.) My lazy manager did not review/check-in/email me to help train/note my (lack of) progress/as a resource.

Not knowing how to do anything, I did nothing.

Initial report deadline sailed past.

Lazy manager then came over and took the fund off my desk. It is a big ugly umbrella fund. He left me a small piece of it.

Lazy manager moaned and groaned and finished the reporting two weeks late. I'm glad someone knows how to do it, even late.]

The lazy manager sent two copies of the reporting yesterday, one to the legal team to be reviewed, and one to the client. Please note he CCed me on none of the emails.

He took today (Thursday) and tomorrow (Friday) off.

This morning I got this series of email:

From: Legaldept@Tomscompany.com
To: Client

Good afternoon,

Please approve the attached the Fund for August 2006 Monthly statements. Once approved I will forward to the investors. Thank you very much.

-Legal team representative

---

From:Client
To:Legal team

Hi Legal team rep,

The year-to-date returns on all of the statements do not match the linked returns spreadsheet that your Manager prepared. Can you please confirm that you have the correct information? Otherwise the statements appear correct and in order.

Thank you,

-Client

---

From:Legal
To:LazyManager

Hi Manager,

Please confirm the YTD returns. The YTD returns on the file you sent to us match the statements. Did you send the client different numbers? Please confirm. Thanks.

-Legal

---

...

---

From:Legal
To:Tom (me) and Vice President of the Division

Hi VP or Tom,

Please look into this issue. Your Lazy Manager is apparently not in the office. We have checked the year to date returns based on the file he provided to Legal. The client has different figures (see email thread).

Thanks
-Legal



WTF?!

My Lazy-ass Manager not only takes the fund after the deadline has passed, fails to include me, the primary (albeit unwitting) contact on the fund, but sends different figures to the client and legal, AND THEN SKIPS OUT FOR A FOUR DAY WEEKEND.

Leaving me, and the VICE-FUCKING-PRESIDENT holding the bag.

So who's fault is it when I can't answer any questions the VP has? Is it my fault for NEVER GETTING TRAINED TO DO THE JOB THEY HIRED ME FOR!? IS IT?


GARARHGH!
-t

Blogging, from the Hub of the universe

I just signed up for the first annual(?) extremely cool(?) Boston Bloggers Convetion, or, Boston Bloggers Conference, alternately, Blogtoberfest, or, perhaps, BLOG!, or BBC, or whatever.

So, any of you other Boston bloggers who didn't get an invite, consider this yours.




The real reason I'm writing, however, is the fault of upcoming.com. Jenny, who was forced into coordinating this thing, set up a registration function over at upcoming, which you need to sign up for in order to use.

No big deal, it took ten seconds.

I'm writing because this is the email I got in response:



You see who it's from? ROBOT. How cool is that!? They have robots that email now! I feel like dancing.

I wish it had occurred to me to use "robot" as my gmail username. Who doesn't love robots?

-t

ps: bonus points to anyone who reflexively broke into the chorus of Leo Sayer's I Feel Like Dancing the second they read that line.

Stretching a dollar

Help. What happens when you simply have to buy a set of Bose Quiet Comfort 2 Noise Cancelling headphones in order to prevent aural damage due to frequent air travel for approximately $*299.99 (on ebay for about $250? I hope?), the brand new Nintendo Wii Revolution, with a release date of November 18, 2006, for approximately $250.00, and a brand new 30GB iPod from Apple.com for about $250.00, because my two-year old 20GB iPod just died an awful agonizing critical death, which I don't want to talk about anymore, thank you...

and you only have $250.00 to spend?


No, I'm serious. That's not a rhetorical question. Any idea where I can find Bose headphones for below retail? A deal on the Revolution? An iPod that works?

Oh, also, I need to spend at least a little of that $250.00 in order to eat.

I can stretch money, if I've got some lying around, but 250 into 800 might be beyond my capacity.

Also, is there anyone out there good enough to convince me that spending a month's rent on frivolities is not the way to go? I probably need that talk right about now. Because I've got a couple Bose auctions that are about to end...

-t

* all currency, John this is for your benefit, is in USD. (post script - I added the asterisk in order to use an anchor tag, which I just learned to do. bam.)

West Coast Players

I am back. I have returned from the mighty Pacific. I have returned poorer, but wiser, richer in knowledge, and humbler in spirit. I had seen one ocean, and been called alive, now I have seen two oceans, and truly am.

I took four pictures with my phone camera, and one video. When I learn how to post those to blogger I will submit a photo/video essay here. In the meantime, I'd like to tell you what I've been up to this past week:

Day One, Tuesday last, 5:15 PM
My lazy manager boss asked me to postpone my vacation in order to stay and help out with the monthly reporting. His words: "So...are you, going anywhere, tomorrow?"

Day Two, 5:30 AM
I wake up, quickly throw some clothes in a suitcase and ride to the airport for my flight. I arrive ridiculously early, luckily, Dunkin' Donuts is open.

My flight from Boston to Los Angeles is long, but uneventful. I am squeezed into the smallest coach seat I have ever paid for. The inflight movie is some crappy Lindsay Lohan movie about luck. I read Neil Gaiman's American Gods for the duration of the flight.

I arrive in Los Angeles ten minutes prior to Donny. I call Raymond, who we are visiting, and Donny. I retreive my suitcase from baggage claim, Raymond retreives Donaldo and myself.

We stop at In & Out burger. I had a double-double something with fries. It was pretty good.

We make a quick stop to check out Ray's gun collection. I learn how to clear a revolver. Donny takes photos. Then we drive to Vegas.

We arrive in Vegas, check in to our hotel (the MGM), and then wander The Strip. I lose some money on video poker and slots. I spend at least half an hour at the Star Wars slot machine. I could play that all week.

Day Two/Day Three
Assorted gambling (slots, video poker, three card poker, craps), drinking (Jack & Coke, bloody mary, margaritas, banana flavored drinks, beer), and eating (three buffets, crepes, nachos, burgers). The days blend together. There is no day or night. Donny wins big on Wheel of Fortune slots, and pays for the buffet.

Day Three, 2 PM
We leave Vegas. On the road Ray and I play Simpsons Trivia. Ray wins. Donny sleeps. We call Cory, and Donny and I plan to meet up with him that night.

Cory meets us at Ray's apartment. We drive to Malibu and have dinner. The Pacific Ocean is gorgeous. The food is also quite good.

We drive to Cory's apartment, Ray meets us there. We play spades, and watch Super Troopers until the wee hours of the morning. We resolve to go to a Dodgers game.

Day Four 11 AM
Ray drives to El Taurino and we eat burritos. They are spicy and delicious.

We meet Cory and drive to the Getty Museum. We listen to the architectural tour explain that the dimensions and proportions used in the design are either "30, a multiple of 30, or a part of 30."

The three of us with math degress remark that any number less than 30 is "part of 30," and that 30 just happens to have possibly the widest array of convinient factors (including 1,2,3,5, and 6).

We eat Korean barbecue. Ray shows us the ropes. The food is delicious.

We go to the Dodgers game. I try, in vain, to purchase a Dodgers cap as a souvenir. The Dodgers give up three runs in the first, eight runs in the third, and lose the game 11-2, and first place in the NL West, to the Padres.

Day Five 10:30 AM
Donny and I hang out at Cory's apartment. We visit a farmer's market, eat some really great Mexican food at a local resturant, and watch football.

Donny gets a haircut.

Later, Ray picks us up and we head to Santa Monica.

We walk down the Santa Monica pier and out onto the beach. I stand in the Pacific Ocean. The West Coast is incredible, and spectacular. We enjoy the beach.

We walk up off the beach to find dinner. We also find an elderly Mexican man performing "Achy-breaky Heart" in monotone with a Casio beat under it. He also dances. Donny records a short video.

Ray and Donny try vibrating chairs at Brookstone. Then we eat dinner. The old man changes songs, now he is singing "Guantanamero." Ray asks the waitress where she is from, she says "Brazil." Donny asks if the Mexican street performer appears often. The Brazilian waitress beleagurdly says "every Saturday and Sunday." Donny giggles uncontrolably when the man switches back to "Achy-breaky Heart."

We return to Ray's apartment and watch The Simpsons and Anchorman. We retire.

Day Six, 10 AM
We wake, shower, and head to the airport. We say our goodbyes and enter our respective terminals. Ray drives departs, and so do we.

I arrive in Boston at 9:30 PM, my sister picks me up at the airport. I get home, reheat some Chinese food, realize I'm exhausted, and try to sleep.

I watch Garden State, then lie awake until 3:30 AM.

Day Seven, today, 7:45 AM
I wake up, tired. I shower, get dressed, go to work.

I delete a week's worth of email. I stare at my computer.

The lazy manager tells me to have cash tied out by Friday. I think that will be relatively easy, so I go out for coffee, and write a blog post.

-t

You know how you watch something as a kid and love it, then rewatch it later and it's like, a little stupid? No way is the cartoon as bad as the movie

Ok, if you do get bored... Any thoughts on the destruction of favorite childhood icons in the popular media of today?

as stated in this review of the leaked Transformers script?

"YES." he replied emphatically

"Are you going anywhere tomorrow?" my manager asked me just a few minutes ago.

He asked because he wants me to cancel my vacation time and work on this fund. This nightmare of a fund.

So this post is going to serve two purposes.
(1) To inform you, the reader, that I am heading out tomorrow AM to sunny California. I will return Tuesday, please don't expect any posts until then.

and
(2) To inform you, the reader, that under no circumstances would I have replied "No" to my managers question, knowing, as I did, what his motivation for asking was. Yes, I'm going somewhere tomorrow. I'm going Away. And not just any Away, either, I'm going to the furthest possible Away that's still within the borders of the continental united states. Los Angeles.

There is no way I want to work on this fund. I was not hired to figure this stuff out. I was hired learn this stuff. That has still not happened. In the meantime I will not give up scheduled vacation time in order to be miserable.

I care too much about getting things right, about correctness. I find that when things aren't correct, or when I am not giving 100% I get a little stressed. The stress tends to get locked up in my back and neck muscles. It's unpleasant.

Therefore, I resolve to find a new job where I can give 100%. I think I will start by posting a brand new resume on monster.com. Instead of "fund accountant, two years experience" I think I'll go with "voice talent, boston area" and see what happens.

Incidentally, do any of you have any poetry you would like me to recite at a public gathering? Wedding, wake, birthday party?

For a small fee, of course.
-tgme

P.S. Sorry, I got a little distracted in the middle of writing this post. It's incoherent, I know. If you find yourselves devoid of content this week, anticipating my return, you could try your hand at editing, or just send me a friendly email with some tips on straightening this post out.

Speaking of straightening out, I really would like to go into greater length describing the causes, symptoms, and remedies to this stress I carry, but think that that should be a whole post.

So, yes, I'm going somewhere tomorrow. I wish I were staying there.
-t

The sky is NOT falling (apparently)

Howdy. How ya'll doin'? All worried about me losing my job because I've done abso-nothing-lutely lately? I was too.

The amount of work I actually did on a daily basis remained at a steady, flat, zero (0) for three-and-a-half weeks, consecutively.

I'm not kidding. On three of those days (last Thursday, Friday, Tuesday) the most amount of work I did was turn on my monitor. That's it. I didn't even use a password to sign in to any applications. I didn't receive any emails. Nothing.

On most of the other days I peaked at "open microsoft excel, just in case."

And, as I believe most of you are aware, I was feeling a growing dread.

In light of the copious amount of work I hadn't been doing, and the impending Day Five deadline, I felt sure the figurative ceiling would collapse in on me, burying me along with many useless reports in the ancient temple ruins like a tragic, yet heroic, adventurer and so many poisonous snakes.

I feared the repercussions of my inactivity. And here we are, on Day Five, and there are none.

NONE. I don't understand. This is no way to run a business, I can tell you that. Why even bother with deadlines (which, btw, are mandated and overseen by the federal government), if you're not going to adhere to them?

The reports are going to be late, and I haven't detected one bit of consternation related to that fact around here. Not me, not my manager, not the VP, nobody. I've been sitting here not knowing how to do anything for weeks with four hours left to do over a month's work and my manager came by and said, casually, with no inflection, "Well, these reports will be late."

AUGH!! THE CEILING! IT'S COMING DOWN!...Look ou-... No?

No.

So what's the call? Greatest level of frustration and disappointment in recent memory?


Or greatest job ever?
-t

Has anybody heard from John?

(alt. title: "gmail is great")

me: dude
what's the story?
John: hey there
whats up
story?
no story
per se
me: how is work
John: just been crazy insane busy
me: how is daniel
John: work = good
me: how is daniel's family
John: daniel = surprising good
fam = awesome
car = bought
me: how is speaking spanish all the time
John: meh
classes every day from 9-11
then work 11-4
then other work 4-8
me: nice and busy
John: then apartment moving junk 8-10
then sleep
me: how is the local cuisine?
John: yummy
though i might have cholera from the water
me: right
John: yes
me: how are the bugs
John: bugs?
me: I imagine there are lots of disease carrying bugs
John: oh
me: mosquitoes among them
John: i guess so
meh
were in the tropics
but in the mountains
so in addition to banana trees
there are also pines
the weather is cool
and nice
so not a lot of jungle bugs
me: ok, so no bugs, just mountain goats,
llamas,
and mountain lions
John: um
me: and boa constrictors
John: its a city of 3 million i think
so...
me: and drug lords
John: YES
DRUG LORDS
me: how are the drugs
John: in masarattis
me: sweet
John: masarati?
anyway
yes
pretty car
John: ok, gotta go


-t

Reeding Highlights

from Dave's Long Box

"As I draw this post to a patronizing finish, I would encourage everyone to maintain a degree of perspective and civility. The anonymity of the Internet makes the need for civil discourse even greater. Do you really need to get in a flame war with some 13-year old who thinks Mike Mignola sucks? Because that kid’s an idiot, fuck that kid."

from Neil Gaiman

"I find I'm suddenly unsure whether or not that means exactly what I'm certain it does mean, so I google "personal lubricants" and yes, it's talking about exactly what I think it's talking about. Up to 4 oz. of personal lubricants are just fine.... practically the only liquid you can take with you onto a plane.

"

from Flixens

"Think of it as having a children, and one of them is just better than all the rest. Instantly talented at anything he or she puts their mind to, and will easily be more successful than your other children, who range from occasionally inspired, to the ones that bump their head on the side of the breakfast table every morning.

The [1973 original] Wicker Man is that superior child...

So, might I be a little bit biased, when watching a remake of The Wicker Man? Turns out, no. The film is plenty bad on it's own merit, without me being prejudice..."

-t

There aren't any stations.

Today, just now, I discovered the mental link between the phrase "train of thought" and "jump the tracks" and since have been mildly amused at the thought of a brain train jumping the thought tracks.

I am further amused by the inevitable trainwreck of and idea such an incident would cause. Or possibly brainwreck.

So, now, whenever I find myself thinking about myself thinking... about... - I now picture a cartoonish train bouncing merrily along a track, as it swivels its headlamp around looking about for, and finding, a different and interesting looking track nearby, then hopping over to that one to continue bouncing down whatever railway lines have been laid in this brain of mine.

Also, the hopping train is accompanied by the Peter Cottontail song.

"Here comes Peter Cottontail
Hopping down the bunny trail
Hippity-hoppity Easter's on its way!"

-t "there are no stops on this train of thought" e

Business Strategy

Not knowing how I'm supposed to do the work I'm supposed to do (or, really, what work it is I'm supposed to do), I feel obligated to look busy, rather than take an eight-hour nap at my desk.

In order to do so I continually browse through the company server, opening folders and files at random. When I find something that I think looks interesting, I print it out.

I think a person who is jumping up from their desk to grab stuff off the printer all day must be working pretty hard - don't you?

-t

Blogger by default

I'd asked a rhetorical question and received an answer from a loyal reader, an answer that should have occurred to me immediately.

My default mode is blogging.

It's what I do when I have nothing to do, or when I can't do what I do have to do, or do to do do to do do do. (haha)

So here I sit, still blogging away.

Yesterday I set up my very first RSS/Atom reader which now means I can stare at one page that's never updated instead of clicking on a thousand links to look at a thousand pages that are never updated.

Nice, right?

Well, yes. It has certainly efficiencized my blog reading. I'm buzzing through the thirty-or-so blogs I used to read daily in about a minute's time. I think I'm going to have to increase my intake to about 300 blogs a day (at least until I've practiced and gotten used to the feeder reader (which I'm going to abbreviate henceforth as either "feader" or "reeder"), then I'll probably be cruising through 1000 blogs a day).

They're great, these reeders. It's like saying "Hey, readers, I don't want you coming to my page. I'm going to put stuff up here, but please, please, don't come by and read it! Just customize your own little reeder, then you're good! You'll see my content without stopping by, and I won't have to worry about keeping up my html or formatting, or colors, or links, or anything!

It's like talking on the phone instead of stopping by for a visit. I can be just as charming via the airwaves as I would be in person, and you can pretend I'm talking to you from a pristine and hip apartment, but this way I don't have to worry about picking up the place.

So, bloggers, I encourage you, get yourselves a reeder, because they're fun! And you can leave me to my empty-pizza-box masthead, and dirty-laundry links, and tired-old-unwashed-dishes-in-the-bathroom-sink template. Go on, be free!

-t

If I've learned anything from the Star Wars movies it's this: "There is no try." And if I've learned anything from this new job it's "There is no do."

There's nothing I can do.

Truer words were never spoken. I sit here at my desk for days, weeks, and do nothing, because there is nothing I have the ability to do.

I think this must be what it's like to be an infant. I can imagine eyes opening to the world, the first glimpse of light, and then color, smelling smells for the first time, realizing you can smell, and taste, and touch.

And then thinking "Ok. Now what?"

There are people standing over you. They're expecting something. They're expecting it from you. They want you to do something. What?

You don't know. You don't even know that you can do anything. The only thing you know for sure is that you are. "I exist," is what you think to yourself.

Maybe they want you to smile, or to cry, or to kick your legs. But you don't even know that there are things called legs, or that you have them, or that by relaxing or contracting your muscles (still another thing you don't know you have) you can control these "legs."

What's a boy to do?

I tell you what. If you're the infant you fall into default mode. A vast majority of the time you just tell your body to "Do. Do something."

And, because our bodies are pretty magnificent things, even (especially?) when our brains aren't getting in the way, your body does. Just lets it all out, everything. And boy do you scream.

That's the "default" setting on a baby. Scream.

It's simple, you don't need to control or concentrate, just do. And then, once you've established that there are "things," and that those things can be "done," the sky's the limit. From here on out it's all about testing, questing, pushing the limits.
"These are legs? Ok, let's see if I can do something with them." Wallking.
"These are hands? What can they do?" Grabbing, pushing, pulling...hands can do anything.
"This is a "cat"? Well, it doesn't do very much...maybe I can use my hands..." Which is why babies love cats, and cats hate babies.

It starts with the one thought, "Do." And you just fall into default mode.

But what's the default mode on a fund accountant?
-tgme

Returned: Undeliverable

Dear Blogger,

It's been a while since we've talked, I mean really sat down and had a heart-to-heart. I know it's hard to get together, because I'm stuck here in Boston, and your servers are way out in California, so I thought I'd write, to keep you up to date with what's been going on here.

There have been many many changes since my last letter, Blogger, some good, some bad, some big, some small.

I've lost a lot of friends to relocation: Donny moved to Milwaukee, Adina and Dan moved to Philadelphia, Jackie and Steve are in Baltimore, Kat is home in New Jersey and ignoring her livejournal, John moved to some other country, Beth stopped returning phone calls, the list goes on...

I've also found a lot of new friends! There's Samantha, who lives in Alabama but comes to visit a lot, and then loads of new internet friends that I've never met! Like Erin, Sarah, Maggie, Matthew, Jason, pbr, Jenny, God, Dave, and more!

There are also some friends who stuck around, Tom and Maureen, Lindsay, Felecia, Tyler, and one friend who used to live way far away in Japan, but now only lives a little far away in Indianna, Laura.

I bought a new couch since the last time we spoke. It's giant, and plaid, and it reclines. I like it a lot. I've got it up in my room right in front of the television. It's a great place to watch the Red Sox, even when they're losing, and to play video games, even when I'm losing.

I also got a new job! It's very frustrating, because I've been here a long time but still don't know what I'm supposed to be doing. It seems like a high-pressure environment, and I think I could thrive here if I could just get some decent training, but that doesn't seem to be the case. Don't worry, though, Blogger, I'm not thinking about going back to that other job. I've resolved to never work with stupid people again.

I'm thinking about moving out (again). I know, I know, it seems like every time I mention moving, or renting a place, or finding roommates it never happens, and who can say if this time will be any different? I just thought I should mention it so it doesn't come as a surprise if it really does happen.

I think I'm getting shorter too. The last time I measured myself I was just a little bit over 6'1" which is almost a whole inch less than my height in college! Is this the weight of the world bearing down on me? Is it the beginings of osteoporosis due to a lack of calcium in my diet? Or is it the dilapidated chair I spend eight hours a day in at work messing with my lower back? I can't say for sure.

I think you'll be very pleased to know that I've cut down drastically on my spending habits. There was a time when I would not even blink at dropping upwards of one hundred dollars on books, or movies, or comics, but now I can tell you that I can't remember the last time a media purchase was over twenty bucks! I am still spending a little, though, Blogger, a holdover from my spendthrift days, I'm sure. I try now, though, to stretch those purchases. For example, the video game I just bought? It's supposed to take over forty hours to complete. That's a month or more of diversion for only fifteen dollars! And the last book I bought was War and Peace which took me forever to finish.

Speaking of books, right now I've got a great lineup waiting for me. I'm reading an Orson Scott Card novel right now, after that it's going to be either American Gods, or The Time Traveller's Wife, and then on to A Heartbreaking Work Of Staggering Genius. Then I'm thinking about picking up another Tom Robbins novel.

I've drastically cut down my television watching time too, since last we spoke. I'm now only a slave to Lost, Psych, Monk, and The 4400. Also, Rescue Me, and The Shield, but not as much. There just isn't enough time in the day to see all I'd like to see, read all I'd like to read, do everything I'd like to do.

But that's ok, that's why there's "tomorrow," right? Right. I knew you'd agree.

Wow. I just looked back over this letter and realized it's a lot longer than I'd intended it to be. I guess I'll sum it all up by saying that I'm still doing well. Old friends, new friends, hated the old job, hating the new job (not quite as much), and pretty much the same as the last time you saw me.

I hope you're doing well, and handling your increased workload. You certainly don't seem any worse for wear!

Thinking of you,

Tom

The Taxidermy Analogy

Earlier (here) I said I wasn't going to post about work.

Since then I've changed my mind. Because I have been staring at this email all day long, at the top of my inbox, and I must vent the ever-increasing frustration lest I explode. (That happens to me sometimes.)

First (because I can't resist), a little background:
characters: The Senior Manager, The Lazy Manager, Me, and The New Fund

June:

• The New Fund is introduced.
  
• The Senior Manager begins working with the client to set up the fund by month end.

July:

• I am introduced to the new fund with a tree diagram and a hearty "Someday, this will all be yours"
  
• Neither myself, nor my lazy manager, receive any instruction or training on the new fund.
  
• The Senior Manager continues to work with the client to set up the fund which is, at this point, almost halfway completed
  
• I receive no training whatsoever, I lose the tree diagram.
  

August:

• The Senior Manager continues the set up the new fund.
  
• I get a new tree diagram. No training.
  
• The Senior Manager quits.
  
• The fund setup halts, I go on vacation, the workshirk manager says he will finish setup and process daily activity while I am away.
  
• I return from vacation, the lazy manager says "I didn't even look at the fund at all."

Ok. Caught up? Good.

Yesterday afternoon on my first day back from vacation the lackaday manager tells me to tie out one of the six branches of the tree diagram.

I spend three hours trying to download the reports from the prior week that the lazy manager was supposed to download. The reports are no longer available.

I spend another hour pouring over a giant spreadsheet of the year-to-date activity trying to sort out the entries that were effective last week.

I fail.

This morning I tried again.
Failed again. And sent the following email at, clock this: 11:25AM:

From: OurHero,Tom@workisstupid.company
To:LazyIndolentManager@donothing.company
Subject: New Fund Cash Reconcilliation

The New Fund cash is not tied. Right now the recon is off by $176,845.36

I don’t know what entries to look for to find the difference, which reports to find those entries on, or if those reports are among the unavailable ones that should have been downloaded last week.

-Tom

Ok. That's not crazy, right? Maybe I sound a little upset, but I certainly feel that's warranted. Not the point. The point is I received this response from the lazy manager at exactly 11:26AM:

From:IndolentManager@lazy.com
To:Tom@isthegreatestbloggerever.com
Subject:New Fund Cash Reconcilliation

I’ll get back to you on this, I have a meeting with the VP.


That's it. The whole email. I have received nothing since from him or anyone else. No follow up, no new emails to distract, nothing.

That email has been sitting at the top of my inbox, open-ended, for FIVE HOURS.

The last time this fund tied out was July 31st. The Senior Manager Who Quit handled it then. It is somehow my responsibility to tie out the entire fund (all six tree-diagram brances) for the entire month of August, and then prepare the monthly reporting by FRIDAY.

It is an impossible task. Imagine yourself a newly hired taxidermist. Your only related experience in the field comes from burying your pet guinea pig when you were six. You are told that you will be trained in the art of taxidermy over the next two months, then given small animals to practice on before, gradually and with constant supervision, moving up to the larger game.

The next day you are handed a knife and dumped unceremoniously in the middle of the African Savanah amid herds of antelope, roaming lions, and a rhinoceros, with the words "Get to work."

I don't even know which hand to hold the knife in! Five hours. wtf.

-t

Five Quotes Meme

I am totally frustrated at work and wouldn't dare try posting, lest I get angry comments from Felecia like "nobody cares that you hate your job."

I'm meme-ing (sp?) instead. From here, here, here, and so on...

Visit your favorites quotations page (they used this one), and search random quotations until you find five that you feel describe or reflect who you are.

See? Easy.

[also note, I didn't actually read any of the quotations other people had selected, nor do I expect you to read mine. I think the real value of this particular meme is to keep you busy reading quotes, rather than help others learn about you. because, really, who cares?]

Learning to live in the present moment is part of the path of joy.
Sarah Ban Breathnach

Which is a lot like Dave Matthew's "The future is no place to place your better days."

I have never made but one prayer to God, a very short one: 'O Lord, make my enemies ridiculous.' And God granted it.
Voltaire (1694 - 1778)

Voltaire describes the best way to win: belive in God, and pit yourself against idiots.

You must pray that the way be long, full of adventures and experiences.
Constantine Peter Cavafy

Every once-in-a-while I stop and ask myself, "Could my life be more like a road trip/buddy comedy? Invariably I end up taking a trip to Chicago, or London, or (here's hoping?) Philly.

I can't understand why a person will take a year to write a novel when he can easily buy one for a few dollars.
Fred Allen (1894 - 1956)

This might be the biggest stumbling block on my path to a writing career: I would never spend a year writing anything.

I'm glad they gave me this next one - I think something similar whenever I am presented with an inspirational quotation.

A facility for quotation covers the absence of original thought.
Dorothy L. Sayers (1893 - 1957)

-t

recommended download:
The Eagles, Seven Bridges Road (get it? haha)

Lock it up

"Sup?" might be one of my favorite abbreviations. I use it all the time but don't often notice (I think it's due to the lack of apostrophe, "s'up?" just isn't as cool).

"Sup?" takes less time, but conveys exactly the same message, as "Hey, what's happening in your world these days?" and, if you were to ask me "what's up?" then I would respond with the following:

I was on vacation last week. It was glorious.

Sunday
Samantha flew in on Sunday after completing the MCAT, I picked her up at the airport, and we went immediately to dinner with John, Lindsay, and Felecia. We ate a delightfully delicious meal at Legal Seafoods with the most atrocious service I have ever had.

Our waiter's name was Slave. He was slow, forgetful, probably high, and quite possibly also drunk. He brought the menus and dissapeared. Half and hour later he took our drink order, and dissapeared. Half an hour after that we got our drinks, and, before he could dissapear, aske for some bread to gnaw on whilst we made our dinner selections. He returned half an hour later with no bread, no drinks, no food, and did not ask for our order. He just stood next to the table for a few moments and then left.

John bought us a bottle of wine to celebrate his immenent departure for Guatemala. Eventually we got our food, well, some of us got our food, others of us go some other people's food, and others only got half of their food. That may, perhaps, be the runners fault and not Slave's but, at this point, we were quite willing to paint them all with the same brush.

Throughout the meal we enjoyed not only our food, but also the mean-spirited comments directed at Slave coming from the other tables in his section. John was so pleased he almost bought each of them a bottle of wine.

At the end of the meal I put the bill on my credit card. While waiting, again, for Slave to come by the table and pick it up, John decided this was the last straw, so he got up to inform the hostess of our situation. Perhaps overhearing the complaints of the other servers ran the receipt for me. The total on the credit card slip (including one bottle of wine, five dinners, two cups of soup, and an appetizer we never ordered) was $14.16.

Now, for me, this was the last straw. I took the bill with me and joined John at the hostess stand to let them know that, while I would certainly not be averse to a small discount, or knocking an appetizer off of the bill for our trouble, as is standard policy, I doubted they wanted to give us the meal for less than it would cost to take a cab across the street to Finale.

At this point the resturant manager stepped in, knocked the appetizers off the bill, presented it to me with an apology, and then gave Slave a good talking to over at the bar.

Then we walked across the street to Finale for dessert. And it was amazing. (Samantha and I shared a sampler and had coffee, John had a dessert wine trio that was quite intoxicating, Lindsay had the unimaginative creme brule, and Felecia had the cheesecake.)

We said some hearfelt and very emotional goodbyes then, snapped a few pictures, and wished John a safe trip into the southern hemisphere (note: Guatemala isn't actually in the southern hemisphere).

Then we all went to bed.

Monday
Monday, Samantha and I went on a whale watch. It was great. We sped out on one of the Boston Harbor Cruises catamarans and looked at whales feeding and breaching and waving and sleeping and doing all sorts of fun stuff. We also made fun of the naturalist running the show-and-tell because she couldn't tell time. She would say "At one o'clock you can see two whales sleeping, this is a mother and her calf." However, if you looked at one o'clock all you would see is ocean. The whales were actually at three o'clock. Meanwhile she totally missed the two whales that seemed to be having a diving contest directly off the stern of the boat (six o'clock), but even if she had seen them she probably would have told us to look at ten o'clock for them.

After the boat trip we grabbed some Dunkin' Donuts coffee and walked down towards Fenway to get something to eat and watch the Red Sox lose (again...stupid bullpen). Then we went up to the Coolidge theater to see Little Miss Sunshine (which was very good).

Then we slept.

Tuesday
Tuesday we travelled up to Maine to see the Portland Sea Dogs play the Binghamton Mets in the Double-A Eastern league. Samantha kept score, and I kept an alert eye out for dangerous foul balls.

The seats were amazing, we were fourteen rows from the field, right behind the visiting dugout, and surrounded by nice people from Maine who didn't get drunk or disorderly, and who knew the ushers by name.

It was a great game (even though the Sea Dogs lost).

Wednesday
Wednesday was my brother's twelfth birthday, so we played miniature golf! Samantha, Billy, Danny, Timmy, my mom, my grandmother, and myself, all went up to Richardsons (one of my favorite miniature golf courses (they have tons of home-made ice cream)) and played two rounds. Billy won, I came in a close second, and Samantha finished third. (The scores are not official though, because Samantha was keeping score and being nice about it. For example, on the tenth Danny miss putted seven times and then started kicking the ball toward the hole, even counting each kick as one stroke, and without applying a penalty he shot a fifteen, but Samantha scored it an eight.)

After golf we had ice cream, then we went home and had jell-o cake.

Thursday
Thursday we moved Timmy into his college dorm room. The move went very quickly, aside from the tediousness of the futon assembly, and we were home by early afternoon. Then we ordered pizza and watched movies. It was great.

Friday
Friday was supposed to be a beach day. I'd left it open on the schedule so we could spend it lounging in the sun (or, in my case, heavily shaded areas), but it rained. Rain, rain, rain. So we stayed at home and played board games! And watched movies. And played some video games.

Saturday
Saturday we went to the Patriots game at Gillette Stadium. It was awesome. My dad had gotten tickets through work, and gave them to us. Samantha, Danny, Billy, and I were on the twenty yard line, forty-five rows from the field. I could see Bellicheck's facial expressions, I could see Tom Brady watching the defense, we were right there, practically on the field. Field goal, touchdown, touchdown, field goal, touchdown. It was awesome. The Pats rolled right over the Kansas City Chiefs, and looked good on both sides of the ball. They looked ready for the season.

Sunday
Samantha left Sunday. I'm not going to talk about it. Then I visited Joey and Timmy up at school. They're both all settled in and getting ready for classes to start.

Monday
I'm back at work and thinking seriously about quitting. Because not working beats the hell out of working, any day.

-t

recommended download:
Social Distortion, Don't Drag Me Down

Unemployable

I have no boss. Does that make me unemployed or self-employed?

My manager doesn't speak. He sits over in his cubicle and every third or fourth day sends an email with a vauge question about my funds.

My senior manager just left the company.

The one other guy in my group, the "trainer" called in today.

That's three levels of supervision I'm missing. There is no one here today to tell me what to do.

So I'm not doing anything.

It's the greatest thing ever. I've got one simple fund that I'm supposed to finish, one giant complicated fund that I was supposed to learn (but can't now, because the senior manager is the one who was supposed to train me), and nothing else to do.

I've been wandering around the office checking with other groups trying to help out. Like Caine in Kung Fu, you know, wander the earth, get in adventures.

I've also been telling jokes, like "What's orange and sounds like a parrot?"

Meanwhile the VP has banned espn, espn2, and fox from our television. CNN is the only channel allowed now. So I can't watch the Sox/Yankees game.

Instead I'm trying to set up gmail chat. If it works it could be better than AIM. Which means I'm very close to being back, baby.

-t

Done

It took about four seconds for the glass in my hand to slip, and fall slowly to the floor.

One minute I was holding a Jack and Seven, the next I was watching, helplessly, as it tumbled slowly from my grasp, executing nearly one half turn before the rim of the glass met the tile with a "pshnnk!!"

At work, tomorrow, I'm going to blame the slip on the condensation on the glass, and not, as it may be told, to my state of inebriation.

Condensation.

--

We had gone out to send off my manager who is leaving the group after almost one full year of employment at the company. (Who's last day is a Wednesday? And who leaves on a Wednesday when their first day at the new company is Monday? A four day weekend? I take a minimum of two weeks between jobs. Minimum.)

We got to the bar right after work. A few of us decided to enjoy the nice outdoor weather, ordered drinks, and retired to the courtyard. I was drinking Jack Daniels and Seven Up. Most of them were drinking Bud Light.

We had a good time. I heard some stories, I told some jokes, we all thoroughly enjoyed ourselves - also it was all (perhaps unwittingly?) on the exiting manager's tab, which was pretty generous of him.

I had about four(?) drinks. But I was sitting down. I think that's why what happened happened. Usually on an outing like this I'll be on my feet the whole time which makes it very easy for me to judge my own level of sobriety (wobbling and waving usualyl indicates a significantly decreased level).

At about the time I ordered the fifth (sixth?) drink we moved into the bar area to talk to the manager who was leaving. At this point I did not know that anything was wrong.

It was.

Three minutes later, as I was in the middle of an anecdote and watching the Red Sox game with one eye, and the glass slipped out of my hand.

I was flabergasted.

My eyes followed it to the floor, in a drop that seemed to take forever, then I slowly raised my head to the three guys I was talking to, spread my hands and simply said, "I'm done."

Tomorrow I'm going to blame the condensation on the glass, but to be honest, I couldn't tell you what it was..

t

The Black Spots

I've been attacked by ladybugs. Bitten. Imagine Peter Parker and a radioactive spider.

I was reclining in my couch, minding my own business, playing video games. It was summer. It was hot.

I felt something on my neck. A dust mote? A lock of hair? An insect?

Yes. An insect. The something moved, and before I could raise my hand to brush it away IT BIT ME! I brushed it the hell off then and it flitted over to the opposite wall, no doubt to stare and laugh, because I had just been bitten by A LADYBUG!

Now, let's just get one thing straight, right off the bat: ladybugs bite. I don't want to hear anybody out there suggesting that it might have been some type of beetle, a mosquito, a tiny tiny mouse, or some sort of radioactive spider.

I know what a ladybug looks like. And, now, I know what it bites like.

I related the incident to my family at the next opportunity. They, like many of you, no doubt, doubted.

It was at that very moment that another ladybug flew down from the ceiling and BIT ME AGAIN!

After about ten minutes of "Tommy got beat up by a girl-bug" jokes and some hysterical laughter, and a few Bug's Life quotes ("So, just because I'm a ladybug that automatically makes me a girl!?") they believed me.

Too little, too late, if you ask me. Where were they the first time I was bitten, mm?

Since then I have been especially wary of ladybugs, which are crawling around in greater numbers than ever. I fear that word has perhaps gotten around the ladybug community that I am easy prey, or perhaps look like a giant aphid.

I am of two minds: one, destroy any and every ladybug I see in order to prevent further attacks.

or, two, allow the ladybugs to keep biting in the hopes that one of them may be radioactive and in this way gain powers beyond those of ordinary men.

A six-foot tall ladybug with the power of speech. Ladybug Man, or something, I'm still working on the name.

My powers would be great. I would have an eye-catching red and black shell, I could fly (and bite, apparently). I may not have very many offensive powers, but, as part of a superhero team I could aid in the retreat, whisking my fellow superheroes back to the safety of home base when they were in trouble.

Of course, the base would probably be on fire when we get there.

-t

And, I'm beseiged by ladybugs in my own home.

I have been stressing out over the last week or so, and I was trying to figure a way to describe it. I think "to the max" is appropriate.

This last week I have been stressing out to the max.

John and Samantha know this because I have had the opportunity to eat lunch with/call them at some point over the last week.

I haven't mentioned it here because I've been a little too busy stressing out (to the max).

It's this report. It's the job. It's not knowing what's going on. Like the Lion King.

The scene where grown-up Nala and Simba are fighting because she's hunting warthog and Simba's protecting warthog. Just as Nala is about to deliver the killing stroke Simba recognizes her and BAM just like that we're reminiscing and all caught up.

Which is when Timon, voiced by Nathan Lane, desperate to get their attention, screams "WHAT'S GOIN' ON HERE!?"

Which is sort of how things are going at work.

There's all this reporting (eight section report) that's due on month end (that's once-a-month) which I don't know how to do, and no one will tell me how to do.

I can run the report. Expenses, for example, section six. I can click on the little "expense report" button, and put in the date range, but, it comes up blank.

Know why?

Because I haven't processed any of the expenses, so there's nothing to show on the report.

How do I process the expenses? Easy, you click the button labeled "book expenses" and then input the amounts and submit.

Where do the amounts come from?

I HAVE NO IDEA.

I don't have any trouble with the software, or the mechanics of "how-to." Those things are easy. You could train a monkey to perform those tasks.

But no one has instructed me in any of the procedures that involve thinking.

AND I AM A THINKER!

(And, also, apparently, I am a tasty delight for the ladybugs of the world, but I will expound upon that at a later date)

In this context, I am a thinker who is unable to think.

It's not just the expenses, it's every section of the report. If I need to book a trade, I can do that. If I need to book an income adjustment I can do that.

But how do I know I need to do those things? Why are those things necessary? Throw me a frickin' bone here. (erinire will get the Monty Python reference).

So, anyway. I have been stressed out to the max. I sent an email to the other guy in the group. I said "I need help with this reporting" he responded with "What have you done so far"

I said "Nothing. I need help on all of it."

And he said "I'll help you with expenses. Tie out everything else and then I'll come by."

He likes to think this is trial by fire, or learning to swim by getting pushed off the pier. I think that is the stupidest way to teach anything, ever.

Anyway. He came over. And was not much help. But it got done. In an hour.

AN HOUR.

This stupid report I've been stressing out (to the max) over for a week took AN HOUR to complete.

AND I KNEW IT WOULD AND COULD HAVE FINISHED IT MYSELF IF I COULD JUST GET A LITTLE GUIDANCE AROUND HERE SOME OF THE TIME IS ALL I'M SAYING YA KNOW?

Gah.

Oh, also, my senior manager, the one guy who I can go to and get problems answered? He's going back to his old company effective Next Wednesday. We just found out.

It's all good. It's fine. Reporting is done for the month. Things are looking up. I've got a vacation coming up. One week from today. I'll spend next week catching up on all the work I missed this week, then leave for a week. Maybe they'll reshuffle the groups because the senior manager guy is leaving. Maybe I'll find someone who can tell me how to do what I'm supposed to be doing.

Wishful thinking maybe.

-t