And, soon after the March 26th first pwnage of the year, comes the second.
This Friday (and NOT before then), I found out I had a tight Saturday night deadline. I worked until 10pm on Friday and from 9am to 11:30pm on Saturday, and barely made it. Just barely.
So far, statistically speaking, pwnages come when I've got major plans for the weekend. The first one dropped when I was supposed to drive an hour away to celebrate my grandfather and dad's birthdays which happened to be on the same day. This second one happened when I had lined up some fantastic eating opportunities with friends and a hobby class.
I'm expecting a third pwnage soon since I've been warned that I've been put on 3 big ugly projects simultaneously. But, it wouldn't be a pwnage if you KNEW when they would hit and exactly what your crazy schedule would be. No, that would just be called "having a lot of work to do." In true pwn-like fashion, these projects are massive, but I have NO IDEA when they will happen, what schedule I'll be on, and thus, what personal plans I can or cannot keep.
That whooshing you hear is the sound of my soul being flushed down the toilet.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Go-go Granny
I saw the coolest granny on the BART today.
She had a perfectly flipped out bob of blonde hair (not one speck of white), but you could tell from her face she was at least 80.
With an expert sense of balance, she "surfed" the train car as it lurched to the next stop, reading her fashion magazine the entire time (fantastic taste in literature). As the doors opened, she lept out and ran up the escalator stairs, light and sprightly.
What a testament to life after 60. Go granny!
She had a perfectly flipped out bob of blonde hair (not one speck of white), but you could tell from her face she was at least 80.
With an expert sense of balance, she "surfed" the train car as it lurched to the next stop, reading her fashion magazine the entire time (fantastic taste in literature). As the doors opened, she lept out and ran up the escalator stairs, light and sprightly.
What a testament to life after 60. Go granny!
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Predator Island
Oprah recently re-aired a story about a special confinement center informally dubbed Predator Island, in the beautiful Puget Sound.
It’s a facility that houses sexual predators, 60% of which are child molesters. This is not a prison, however. The unique twist is that all these predators have already served their sentences, but a judge has assigned them to be civilly committed because they are too likely to re-offend. If these predators elect to go through treatment, and are declared “cured,” they can get off the island.
But why would they want to?
Oprah’s cameras panned around the facility and it seriously looks like a state-of-the-art dormitory. There are recreational rooms with brand new basketball courts, flat-screen tv’s, computers, libraries, comfortable beds, etc. This facility is not like a run-down nasty inner-city public school. It is pretty darn posh. Oh yeah, and free health-care!
If I ever find myself down-and-out and about to be homeless, I'm going to pretend to molest someone, plead guilty, and spend the rest of my life in ease and comfort, courtesy of Uncle Sam. Inmates can knit, sew, do woodworking, all kinds of hobbies. Sign me up!
It is reported that federal tax payers spend $165,000 per offender each year to put them up in these nice digs!
That just seems wrong to me. Why can’t we just chemically castrate them and then release them back into society? It would be so much cheaper and, *bonus* they would never offend again. Problem solved.
Just another case of our tax dollars “hard at work” subsidizing the Washington State economy. FAIL.
You can read more about this depressing topic here.
It’s a facility that houses sexual predators, 60% of which are child molesters. This is not a prison, however. The unique twist is that all these predators have already served their sentences, but a judge has assigned them to be civilly committed because they are too likely to re-offend. If these predators elect to go through treatment, and are declared “cured,” they can get off the island.
But why would they want to?
Oprah’s cameras panned around the facility and it seriously looks like a state-of-the-art dormitory. There are recreational rooms with brand new basketball courts, flat-screen tv’s, computers, libraries, comfortable beds, etc. This facility is not like a run-down nasty inner-city public school. It is pretty darn posh. Oh yeah, and free health-care!
If I ever find myself down-and-out and about to be homeless, I'm going to pretend to molest someone, plead guilty, and spend the rest of my life in ease and comfort, courtesy of Uncle Sam. Inmates can knit, sew, do woodworking, all kinds of hobbies. Sign me up!
It is reported that federal tax payers spend $165,000 per offender each year to put them up in these nice digs!
That just seems wrong to me. Why can’t we just chemically castrate them and then release them back into society? It would be so much cheaper and, *bonus* they would never offend again. Problem solved.
Just another case of our tax dollars “hard at work” subsidizing the Washington State economy. FAIL.
You can read more about this depressing topic here.
Not Cute
My outfit today is so sad. So dumpy, frumpy and just...sad.
To the untrained eye, I look like I'm wearing the exact same thing I wore yesterday. But in fact, everything's different except for the fuschia scarf around my neck.
The sameness is an illusion brought on by the fact that all my clothes are drabby. I don't wake up early enough to put together a thoughtful outfit and I don't fit into anything that I used to rely on. Sigh.
This clothing rut thing has become endemic ever since the belly started expanding. Now I know how mom-jeans begin. How getting behind in your fashion starts. And how women in their mid-thirties can end up looking like life has totally passed them by.
IT'S ALREADY BEGUN! ACK! SAVE YOURSELVES, IT'S TOO LATE FOR ME!
To the untrained eye, I look like I'm wearing the exact same thing I wore yesterday. But in fact, everything's different except for the fuschia scarf around my neck.
The sameness is an illusion brought on by the fact that all my clothes are drabby. I don't wake up early enough to put together a thoughtful outfit and I don't fit into anything that I used to rely on. Sigh.
This clothing rut thing has become endemic ever since the belly started expanding. Now I know how mom-jeans begin. How getting behind in your fashion starts. And how women in their mid-thirties can end up looking like life has totally passed them by.
IT'S ALREADY BEGUN! ACK! SAVE YOURSELVES, IT'S TOO LATE FOR ME!
Saturday, April 10, 2010
The Why
Recently, a commenter left this message on an old post I wrote last year (in which I basically said I don't feel the need to have kids):
"Just reading your blog and I was wondering what happened to change your mind about having kids. I relate with this blog post, so was just curious about what moved you to change your mind (as I see from your more recent posts that you are expecting a baby)."
This is a great question. And actually I've been wondering this myself for the last couple weeks and wanted to post about it. So, gentle reader, your timing is impeccable.
Causation is a tricky animal and it has many forms. The glib and proximate cause of my deciding to have a kid was that, quite frankly, I wanted to go on maternity leave. I hope my employer is not reading this.
But really, that's not a good enough reason. The short-lived boon of maternity leave hardly outweighs the years of dedication and nurture it takes to raise a kid. But it did provide the perfect opportunity to execute on a plan that I felt was inevitable.
Even though I never had an urge to procreate, the spouse had an altogether different take on the matter. To say he was gung-ho about having kids would be like saying Tiger Woods is an a-hole--a huge understatement. In fact, anytime I would talk about a hypothetical future with no kids in it, I would see his face fall into the saddest puddle. So I knew. I knew, eventually, one day, the spouse had to have kids otherwise he'd be quite miserable, and I couldn't bear to be the cause of that.
And after all, having kids is a positive thing in general. It's a productive way to contribute to society--who else is going to pay for my medicare and social security benefits? It's also a humanizing experience, an opportunity to learn more about the human and the divine.
It's not something I would've jumped into myself, but heck, it's not a bad thing and it makes at least one person in this world very happy. I'll never forget the day I decided to take the plunge and not take my contraceptive pill for the first time in 6 years. It was scary. I had to have my mom talk me through it. "Really mom? You think I should do this? Really? You think now is a good time?" Doubts, doubts, and more doubts.
But you know the deep irony of having a kid? I've only begun to realize this myself--the little bugger comes with it's own "don't worry, just love me" hormone package. It's like what everyone, including my mother, told me would happen--when you realize you are having a kid, something naturally kicks in. All of a sudden, my years of apathy has turned into complete and utter excitement and unadulterated joy.
After years of weighing the pros and cons of child-rearing, I can no longer see the cons. The downside has miraculously and deliriously disappeared. Somehow, it's as if half my brain has melted away, overtaken by this baby hormonal craziness. Amazing how nature just hijacks you both physically and emotionally.
I don't even know myself anymore. Whatever happened to the person who, just one year ago, thought having a kid would be a total drag? Who looked at young moms with pity and a sense of relief that that was not me.
Apparently, this alien invasion is complete. I'm overcome, body, mind and soul.
"Just reading your blog and I was wondering what happened to change your mind about having kids. I relate with this blog post, so was just curious about what moved you to change your mind (as I see from your more recent posts that you are expecting a baby)."
This is a great question. And actually I've been wondering this myself for the last couple weeks and wanted to post about it. So, gentle reader, your timing is impeccable.
Causation is a tricky animal and it has many forms. The glib and proximate cause of my deciding to have a kid was that, quite frankly, I wanted to go on maternity leave. I hope my employer is not reading this.
But really, that's not a good enough reason. The short-lived boon of maternity leave hardly outweighs the years of dedication and nurture it takes to raise a kid. But it did provide the perfect opportunity to execute on a plan that I felt was inevitable.
Even though I never had an urge to procreate, the spouse had an altogether different take on the matter. To say he was gung-ho about having kids would be like saying Tiger Woods is an a-hole--a huge understatement. In fact, anytime I would talk about a hypothetical future with no kids in it, I would see his face fall into the saddest puddle. So I knew. I knew, eventually, one day, the spouse had to have kids otherwise he'd be quite miserable, and I couldn't bear to be the cause of that.
And after all, having kids is a positive thing in general. It's a productive way to contribute to society--who else is going to pay for my medicare and social security benefits? It's also a humanizing experience, an opportunity to learn more about the human and the divine.
It's not something I would've jumped into myself, but heck, it's not a bad thing and it makes at least one person in this world very happy. I'll never forget the day I decided to take the plunge and not take my contraceptive pill for the first time in 6 years. It was scary. I had to have my mom talk me through it. "Really mom? You think I should do this? Really? You think now is a good time?" Doubts, doubts, and more doubts.
But you know the deep irony of having a kid? I've only begun to realize this myself--the little bugger comes with it's own "don't worry, just love me" hormone package. It's like what everyone, including my mother, told me would happen--when you realize you are having a kid, something naturally kicks in. All of a sudden, my years of apathy has turned into complete and utter excitement and unadulterated joy.
After years of weighing the pros and cons of child-rearing, I can no longer see the cons. The downside has miraculously and deliriously disappeared. Somehow, it's as if half my brain has melted away, overtaken by this baby hormonal craziness. Amazing how nature just hijacks you both physically and emotionally.
I don't even know myself anymore. Whatever happened to the person who, just one year ago, thought having a kid would be a total drag? Who looked at young moms with pity and a sense of relief that that was not me.
Apparently, this alien invasion is complete. I'm overcome, body, mind and soul.
Friday, April 09, 2010
Annoyed
Today I'm going to b*tch about my client.
My stupid client, who sent out an email last night at 10:30PM--that's bedtime people--to schedule a conference call for the next morning at 8:30AM.
That's a wierd time, 8:30AM. Most people wait until 9 before requiring good folks to be in their offices. (But most folks don't actually come in until 9:30, shhhhhh.) This client is on West Coast time as well so there is no good reason to schedule an IMPROMPTU meeting that early. Really. No reason.
But here's the kicker folks!
The same crazy client then CANCELS the scheduled meeting at precisely 8:16AM in the morning, a mere 14 minutes before we were supposed to get on the call. YOU CANNOT SET UP A CALL AT A WIERD HOUR WITH LITTLE NOTICE AND THEN CANCEL IT!!!
I won't get into the varied and sundry ways this messed up my morning commute. But it was very very annoying. Let's just say it involved paying 6 extra bucks for parking, a LOT of panicking, and no time to put "my face" on.
My stupid client, who sent out an email last night at 10:30PM--that's bedtime people--to schedule a conference call for the next morning at 8:30AM.
That's a wierd time, 8:30AM. Most people wait until 9 before requiring good folks to be in their offices. (But most folks don't actually come in until 9:30, shhhhhh.) This client is on West Coast time as well so there is no good reason to schedule an IMPROMPTU meeting that early. Really. No reason.
But here's the kicker folks!
The same crazy client then CANCELS the scheduled meeting at precisely 8:16AM in the morning, a mere 14 minutes before we were supposed to get on the call. YOU CANNOT SET UP A CALL AT A WIERD HOUR WITH LITTLE NOTICE AND THEN CANCEL IT!!!
I won't get into the varied and sundry ways this messed up my morning commute. But it was very very annoying. Let's just say it involved paying 6 extra bucks for parking, a LOT of panicking, and no time to put "my face" on.
Tuesday, April 06, 2010
And He Talks Too!
I don't talk about the spouse much, but I just have to post this video of him talking about our new church start-up in the East Bay.
Each time I watch it (and I've watched it a lot), I just want to pinch his cute little cheeks and plant a huge smooch on my computer screen. Who cares what he's saying in the video. Just kidding. Of course I think the content is great too.
It's been over 11 years since we first dated and 7 years since we got hitched, but he's only gotten more adorable over time. Okay, I know, TMI. See, that's why I shouldn't write about the spouse. I'd make y'all gag!
Each time I watch it (and I've watched it a lot), I just want to pinch his cute little cheeks and plant a huge smooch on my computer screen. Who cares what he's saying in the video. Just kidding. Of course I think the content is great too.
It's been over 11 years since we first dated and 7 years since we got hitched, but he's only gotten more adorable over time. Okay, I know, TMI. See, that's why I shouldn't write about the spouse. I'd make y'all gag!
Friday, April 02, 2010
Evil Friday
It was midnight in the garden of good and evil,
And evil prevailed.
As I was sleeping soundly, swaddled in down and cotton,
He was sweating blood.
As I awoke to morning coffee and a rerun of Oprah,
He was unjustly accused and flogged.
As I rode the subway, trying to avoid the snotty, sniffly guy beside me,
He shouldered a heavy beam down dusty streets, now mixed with blood.
As I sit in my temperature controlled office, surfing the web,
He hung there.
All day I will draft contracts and surf the web and worry about pleasing the bosses,
And all day he will hang there in agony.
Why should I gain from his reward?
And evil prevailed.
As I was sleeping soundly, swaddled in down and cotton,
He was sweating blood.
As I awoke to morning coffee and a rerun of Oprah,
He was unjustly accused and flogged.
As I rode the subway, trying to avoid the snotty, sniffly guy beside me,
He shouldered a heavy beam down dusty streets, now mixed with blood.
As I sit in my temperature controlled office, surfing the web,
He hung there.
All day I will draft contracts and surf the web and worry about pleasing the bosses,
And all day he will hang there in agony.
Why should I gain from his reward?
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