Friday, April 28, 2006
Sums it up
My manager had scheduled an employee appreciation afternoon for us several weeks ago at the beginning of April. Due to concerns about an upcoming release the same management has decided to push back the celebration until a later date. The email I received informing me of this is what has me concerned.
Is it just me, or is that second sentence pretty fucked up? Appreciation is evidently a finite resource that must be conserved otherwise we'll run out of it too quickly. That, or morale is measured in psi and if it gets too high the building might explode.
Guys -
Today's outing to Jillian's has been postponed and will be rescheduled. We'll appreciate you at a later date yet to be determined.
Thanks
Is it just me, or is that second sentence pretty fucked up? Appreciation is evidently a finite resource that must be conserved otherwise we'll run out of it too quickly. That, or morale is measured in psi and if it gets too high the building might explode.
Monday, April 24, 2006
Smells no amount of cleaning will ever get rid of
I'm told that the human sense of smell has evolved along a careful path to detect various smells. The most readily available example of this is necrosis. We have hard-wired legitimate sensors built into our bodies that allow us to recognize the literally unmistakable reek of death. I would like to extend this through the following construction:
Lemma 1) The body is capable of detecting specific smells linked to various semantic concepts and memories.
Proof of Lemma 1) Lemma 1 clearly stands on its own. QED.
Theorem 1) Using lemma 1: The human body has rapidly evolved in the last several hundred years to detect the stench of mediocrity.
Proof of Theorem 1) You will see the proof follows easily. Anyone who has walked into a Walmart, read freshman English papers, or listened to an ASU sorority girl's iPod knows this is true. The mediocrity is pervasive and ubiquitous. Thus, the stench of mediocrity is detectable. QED.
Now, by utilizing Theorem 1 I would like to extend my framework with Lemma 2 which will lead into Theorem 2.
Lemma 2) Middle managers are mediocre.
Proof of Lemma 2) There are no famous middle managers, and no middle managers have ever been heroes. Ever. QED.
Theorem 2) If the stench of mediocrity is detectable, then the stench of middle-management is detectable.
Proof of Theorem 2) Clearly if we can smell sub-par results and the stagnant odor of congealed dreams then by extension of lemma 2 we can arrive at middle management level stink. We must also demonstrate that the contrapositive is true. If we cannot detect middle management by smell, then we cannot smell mediocrity. This can be done through a proof by contradiction. Let us assume that there exists a middle manager somewhere who does not carry the funk of an MBA. Furthermore, let us assume this middle manager accomplishes his goals and is respected by his employees. By definition, this individual is not a middle manager, ergo we must be able to smell the 'average' if it is present. QED.
I feel it would be an excellent course for future research to see if these results extend to interns, college students, and whether or not there are subtle differences in the middle management group itself. It is hypothesized that various subgroups of middle managers are identifiable such as the ever frequent genus of "vicariously lives through his children," and "unjustifiably rabid female wench."
Works Cited:
[1] The world around me.
Lemma 1) The body is capable of detecting specific smells linked to various semantic concepts and memories.
Proof of Lemma 1) Lemma 1 clearly stands on its own. QED.
Theorem 1) Using lemma 1: The human body has rapidly evolved in the last several hundred years to detect the stench of mediocrity.
Proof of Theorem 1) You will see the proof follows easily. Anyone who has walked into a Walmart, read freshman English papers, or listened to an ASU sorority girl's iPod knows this is true. The mediocrity is pervasive and ubiquitous. Thus, the stench of mediocrity is detectable. QED.
Now, by utilizing Theorem 1 I would like to extend my framework with Lemma 2 which will lead into Theorem 2.
Lemma 2) Middle managers are mediocre.
Proof of Lemma 2) There are no famous middle managers, and no middle managers have ever been heroes. Ever. QED.
Theorem 2) If the stench of mediocrity is detectable, then the stench of middle-management is detectable.
Proof of Theorem 2) Clearly if we can smell sub-par results and the stagnant odor of congealed dreams then by extension of lemma 2 we can arrive at middle management level stink. We must also demonstrate that the contrapositive is true. If we cannot detect middle management by smell, then we cannot smell mediocrity. This can be done through a proof by contradiction. Let us assume that there exists a middle manager somewhere who does not carry the funk of an MBA. Furthermore, let us assume this middle manager accomplishes his goals and is respected by his employees. By definition, this individual is not a middle manager, ergo we must be able to smell the 'average' if it is present. QED.
I feel it would be an excellent course for future research to see if these results extend to interns, college students, and whether or not there are subtle differences in the middle management group itself. It is hypothesized that various subgroups of middle managers are identifiable such as the ever frequent genus of "vicariously lives through his children," and "unjustifiably rabid female wench."
Works Cited:
[1] The world around me.
Sunday, April 23, 2006
Weekend hijinks
Is this not the most adorable picture ever? I feel that it is. It was taken at Bobby's Birthday party celebration at his house earlier this evening. The other pictures from the event are available in my gallery, which now has a convenient link on my left-hand link bar. So go there.
As usual, the weekend has been pretty great. I caught Phil using the B-word (boyfriend for those playing the home game)...so on some level I guess that makes things "official." Things don't really feel any different, 'cause he's still (a host of good adjectives go here). Everyone reading this is probably going "duh," that's what happens after several months of not being able to get a boy off your mind. Either way, I thought it was neat. I'm a sucker for pretty words and things in print.
I have a boyfriend. Crazy.
Friday, April 21, 2006
Of Apples and Pool Boys
I will start a grassroots movement. This will be a movement of education and public awareness much in the same way that psychologists advocate the usage of terms like "mental health" rather than "mental illness." A movement of embracing the positive as opposed to rejecting the negative. Affirmation of our desires as natural responses to the world around us rather than something to abhorred.
Yes, I will start a movement for the advocacy of STH. My message of sexually transmitted health. The initial phase will consist of simple public relations work. Examples will include smaller posters and cute little banners displaying a woman calmly, yet satisfyingly, looking to the sky reading "Sexually Transmitted Health: An Apple a Day for the New Generation," soon to be followed with various clever rubber stickers and brightly colored ribbon shaped magnets. Simultaneously my movement will need to adopt a catchy logo with which to gain appeal among the younger crowd as well as to become a firebrand amongst those who feel my message of openness as a direct threat. The logo will be an extension of our initial imagery: the apple. This symbol at once shall be both a reference to the cliché "apple a day" expression used in reference to our health, and easy bait for the Christians who remember what happened the last time we tasted the forbidden fruit. I will even introduce a line of T-Shirts to the local Hot Topic stores that will be all black and read in large white block letters "Generation X, Generation Y, Generation Y-Not?" with the apple logo slightly beneath the last line or on the sleeve. For the slightly older college crowd that still shops there, and that can correctly identify Viagra, there will be a polo-shirt style option that shall feature a goat-headed Pez dispenser sitting atop our healthful-snack logo offering up little blue pills. By leveraging the intrinsic nature of teenagers to do what their elders tell them not to, and to buy ironic t-shirts that are not all that ironic, I can safely project that 6-8 months after inception the news will begin to cover my efforts.
The start of phase two of my scheme will commence as soon as Bill O'Reilly has dedicated a show to my "atrocities." His status as "trustworthy commentator and news source" to a group of people I shall only refer to as "rectal-cranially inverted mongoloids" will move the conservative leaning members of society to take action. Fox news, along with several other major networks, will undoubtedly begin covering my liberal coup in a pejorative light. At some point there will even be a real-time talkback shows with a handful of experts connected via satellite each attempting to discuss the matter on nationally syndicated television. Some of these experts will be legitimate sexual therapists, but the majority will be Catholic psychologists and public officials in charge of conservative constituents. Wolves in sheep’s clothing if you will. As important as it will be to fight, we must ultimately lose. After our loss, the printed news on the following morning will specifically highlight how many times the liberal was told to "shut up" and enumerate the number of times his microphone was cut off abruptly. The argumentative one-sidedness of the broadcasts will bolster the image of my hormonally active compatriots being a victimized minority suppressed for extolling the virtues of their genitalia. We will be demonized as hippies, commy pinkos, and as a tribe of whores.
The challenging battles will come soon there after. Spilt blood shall not win this war, but rather seed. Through donations and active fundraising campaigns we will begin marketing ourselves to the overwhelming majority of the population that modern advertising completely passes over. The news will have propelled us from a small movement to the level of national threat, thus our name and message of sexually transmitted health will become common place. Married middle-aged women who feel trapped in their loveless marriages will candidly discuss our message after yoga practice, but before picking their kids up from soccer. Seventh grade school teachers forced into the awkward position of teaching budding angsty preteens the birds and the bees will stop periodically to reminisce on, rather than regret, their college days. Everyone will be thinking about us because we will have successfully targeted the wider demographic. Our models will not be perfect 10's, nor shall we employ photo editing software to enhance them. Our models will be real. They will ALL be the boy/girl next door. They will all look like the boy/girl next door after having perfect sex. There will be no mistaking the look of matted down hair, breathlessness, and satisfaction. To really drive it home in the printed media we will cross market with cologne and perfume companies to place smelling samples of pheromones on the same page as our inserts. The nature of human desire will tear down the walls of inhibition in suburban America.
Inherent ambiguity in the message will leave most wondering what the solution is. Is it to cheat on my husband? Is it to reject the sanctity of monogamy entirely? Is it to buy a stud finder so I can correctly affix a swing to my bedroom ceiling? It will be an abstract message representing all of these things and more. It will be a clarion to herald the acceptance of our wants and a wave of affirmation to enjoy activities typically reserved for closed doors. History will eventually attribute meaning to the cause, but it will be over debated and contrived at best. The only message was that we can, and should, enjoy ourselves for the time that we have. Some will miss the message completely, and others will embark upon a journey of exploration and sweat stained bed sheets. Like all good things our efforts will eventually come to an end and fade into the sunset. I foresee a quiet ending as smaller focus groups begin to splinter off from the main body as differences in ideology and implementation emerge. "STH:leather division" and "STH:advanced foreplay" readily come to mind. The reward for the vast toil shall be a little less neurosis in the world when people decide that the pool boy would probably be great for something other than skimming eucalyptus leaves off the water's surface.
Regardless of what happens, afternoon yoga class will never be the same again.
Yes, I will start a movement for the advocacy of STH. My message of sexually transmitted health. The initial phase will consist of simple public relations work. Examples will include smaller posters and cute little banners displaying a woman calmly, yet satisfyingly, looking to the sky reading "Sexually Transmitted Health: An Apple a Day for the New Generation," soon to be followed with various clever rubber stickers and brightly colored ribbon shaped magnets. Simultaneously my movement will need to adopt a catchy logo with which to gain appeal among the younger crowd as well as to become a firebrand amongst those who feel my message of openness as a direct threat. The logo will be an extension of our initial imagery: the apple. This symbol at once shall be both a reference to the cliché "apple a day" expression used in reference to our health, and easy bait for the Christians who remember what happened the last time we tasted the forbidden fruit. I will even introduce a line of T-Shirts to the local Hot Topic stores that will be all black and read in large white block letters "Generation X, Generation Y, Generation Y-Not?" with the apple logo slightly beneath the last line or on the sleeve. For the slightly older college crowd that still shops there, and that can correctly identify Viagra, there will be a polo-shirt style option that shall feature a goat-headed Pez dispenser sitting atop our healthful-snack logo offering up little blue pills. By leveraging the intrinsic nature of teenagers to do what their elders tell them not to, and to buy ironic t-shirts that are not all that ironic, I can safely project that 6-8 months after inception the news will begin to cover my efforts.
The start of phase two of my scheme will commence as soon as Bill O'Reilly has dedicated a show to my "atrocities." His status as "trustworthy commentator and news source" to a group of people I shall only refer to as "rectal-cranially inverted mongoloids" will move the conservative leaning members of society to take action. Fox news, along with several other major networks, will undoubtedly begin covering my liberal coup in a pejorative light. At some point there will even be a real-time talkback shows with a handful of experts connected via satellite each attempting to discuss the matter on nationally syndicated television. Some of these experts will be legitimate sexual therapists, but the majority will be Catholic psychologists and public officials in charge of conservative constituents. Wolves in sheep’s clothing if you will. As important as it will be to fight, we must ultimately lose. After our loss, the printed news on the following morning will specifically highlight how many times the liberal was told to "shut up" and enumerate the number of times his microphone was cut off abruptly. The argumentative one-sidedness of the broadcasts will bolster the image of my hormonally active compatriots being a victimized minority suppressed for extolling the virtues of their genitalia. We will be demonized as hippies, commy pinkos, and as a tribe of whores.
The challenging battles will come soon there after. Spilt blood shall not win this war, but rather seed. Through donations and active fundraising campaigns we will begin marketing ourselves to the overwhelming majority of the population that modern advertising completely passes over. The news will have propelled us from a small movement to the level of national threat, thus our name and message of sexually transmitted health will become common place. Married middle-aged women who feel trapped in their loveless marriages will candidly discuss our message after yoga practice, but before picking their kids up from soccer. Seventh grade school teachers forced into the awkward position of teaching budding angsty preteens the birds and the bees will stop periodically to reminisce on, rather than regret, their college days. Everyone will be thinking about us because we will have successfully targeted the wider demographic. Our models will not be perfect 10's, nor shall we employ photo editing software to enhance them. Our models will be real. They will ALL be the boy/girl next door. They will all look like the boy/girl next door after having perfect sex. There will be no mistaking the look of matted down hair, breathlessness, and satisfaction. To really drive it home in the printed media we will cross market with cologne and perfume companies to place smelling samples of pheromones on the same page as our inserts. The nature of human desire will tear down the walls of inhibition in suburban America.
Inherent ambiguity in the message will leave most wondering what the solution is. Is it to cheat on my husband? Is it to reject the sanctity of monogamy entirely? Is it to buy a stud finder so I can correctly affix a swing to my bedroom ceiling? It will be an abstract message representing all of these things and more. It will be a clarion to herald the acceptance of our wants and a wave of affirmation to enjoy activities typically reserved for closed doors. History will eventually attribute meaning to the cause, but it will be over debated and contrived at best. The only message was that we can, and should, enjoy ourselves for the time that we have. Some will miss the message completely, and others will embark upon a journey of exploration and sweat stained bed sheets. Like all good things our efforts will eventually come to an end and fade into the sunset. I foresee a quiet ending as smaller focus groups begin to splinter off from the main body as differences in ideology and implementation emerge. "STH:leather division" and "STH:advanced foreplay" readily come to mind. The reward for the vast toil shall be a little less neurosis in the world when people decide that the pool boy would probably be great for something other than skimming eucalyptus leaves off the water's surface.
Regardless of what happens, afternoon yoga class will never be the same again.
Wednesday, April 19, 2006
The world of business
Looks like we're getting ready to start another round of hiring here at work. I have to admit that I actually somewhat enjoy this aspect of my job. Most of the incoming resumes will cross my desk at least once for initial gut-reaction to what the person has to say. Everyone from a masters in nuclear engineering to a bachelors in business has applied for a development position at the Company (For those of you that don't know where I work, feel free to ask. My employer requests not to be identified in writing). I guess that's the joy of being at one of the top growing tech companies in the country.
What I definitely don't like about the hiring process is how we're starting to become really corporate about it. Everyone here is complaining that we keep getting these lackluster resumes from people that are more like "middle management candidates" than solid developers. I just sort of assume this to be a by-product of the field. All the creativity beaten down into submission after a lifetime of drudgery and hoop-jumping for the Man. So I ask back what their initial gut-reaction to the resume is and all I fuckin' get back is "it's formatted poorly," or "the headings are out of order," or "these should clearly be listed in reverse chronological order." What the fuck?! The citizens on the inside of corporate America don't even realize how badly they've been beaten into submission. They want the developers that can think outside of the box, the developers that show ingenuity and brilliance, the developers that fucking rock...but, using a font with serifs or having three pages instead of two is enough to never get a callback. That's just total horseshit in my mind.
Have I mentioned just how much I hate the world of business? That isn't entirely true. Business itself I don't particularly have problems with. Depending on the day you catch me you might discover my more libertarian tendencies and hear me extoll capitalism. Don't get me wrong, I believe in survival of the fittest. Especially economically. What I don't believe in is business that completely marginalizes the human element. Nothing turns happy college students with bright futures into cogs faster than their first REAL job. The lure of money, stability, and promotion in favor of ethics, liking your coworkers, and some daily dynamics.
Seriously, am I that much of a hippy? Can there really be that many people out there that actually want this lifestyle? Most of my coworkers are married, but what time are they spending with their families? My personal life, especially with respect to relationships, is vastly more important than some arbitrary deadline. I recognize the need to perform well to earn for one's family, but not at the expense of not spending as much time as possible with the family. I'm paid to work 40 hours a week, and that's all I'm offering. It isn't that I don't want success or something like that, it's that I feel my pay represents a company borrowing 40 hours of my life a week so that I can spend the remaining time using my earnings as I see fit and with whom I see fit. It is not "40 hours, unless it takes 60 to get the job done." That just means the project was incorrectly scoped.
I'm scared. I'm scared that I may someday have no choice but to work like this for some reason. It's awful. It's choking my creativity. Satisfaction, minimal. Intellectual curiosity, minimal. I'm going to go buy some granola, Birkenstocks, and patchouli scented incense and sit at home so I can play with my photography interests, dink around on my computer, and not feel like I'm contributing to rampant consumerism.
What I definitely don't like about the hiring process is how we're starting to become really corporate about it. Everyone here is complaining that we keep getting these lackluster resumes from people that are more like "middle management candidates" than solid developers. I just sort of assume this to be a by-product of the field. All the creativity beaten down into submission after a lifetime of drudgery and hoop-jumping for the Man. So I ask back what their initial gut-reaction to the resume is and all I fuckin' get back is "it's formatted poorly," or "the headings are out of order," or "these should clearly be listed in reverse chronological order." What the fuck?! The citizens on the inside of corporate America don't even realize how badly they've been beaten into submission. They want the developers that can think outside of the box, the developers that show ingenuity and brilliance, the developers that fucking rock...but, using a font with serifs or having three pages instead of two is enough to never get a callback. That's just total horseshit in my mind.
Have I mentioned just how much I hate the world of business? That isn't entirely true. Business itself I don't particularly have problems with. Depending on the day you catch me you might discover my more libertarian tendencies and hear me extoll capitalism. Don't get me wrong, I believe in survival of the fittest. Especially economically. What I don't believe in is business that completely marginalizes the human element. Nothing turns happy college students with bright futures into cogs faster than their first REAL job. The lure of money, stability, and promotion in favor of ethics, liking your coworkers, and some daily dynamics.
Seriously, am I that much of a hippy? Can there really be that many people out there that actually want this lifestyle? Most of my coworkers are married, but what time are they spending with their families? My personal life, especially with respect to relationships, is vastly more important than some arbitrary deadline. I recognize the need to perform well to earn for one's family, but not at the expense of not spending as much time as possible with the family. I'm paid to work 40 hours a week, and that's all I'm offering. It isn't that I don't want success or something like that, it's that I feel my pay represents a company borrowing 40 hours of my life a week so that I can spend the remaining time using my earnings as I see fit and with whom I see fit. It is not "40 hours, unless it takes 60 to get the job done." That just means the project was incorrectly scoped.
I'm scared. I'm scared that I may someday have no choice but to work like this for some reason. It's awful. It's choking my creativity. Satisfaction, minimal. Intellectual curiosity, minimal. I'm going to go buy some granola, Birkenstocks, and patchouli scented incense and sit at home so I can play with my photography interests, dink around on my computer, and not feel like I'm contributing to rampant consumerism.
Monday, April 17, 2006
Weekend Adventures
Once again I'm sitting here on a Monday morning wondering what the fuck I'm doing here at this job. In the past I have always interpretted this intense feeling of ambivalence as a sign that it's probably about the time to start looking for a new job. Just gotta hold out a little while longer to have grad plans solidified.
On a much happier note, the weekend was great. Friday night Phil proposed the idea for a day trip on Sunday to somewhere outside of the greater Phoenix area. The choices were either Sedona or the Biosphere 2 near Tuscon. I don't have a lot of fond memories of Sedona, mostly due to my parents dragging me up there periodically many years ago so we could go antiquing. Consequently, I know hate antiques and most small towns of Arizona, but I digress. Plus the Biosphere 2 is neat, so that was the chosen destination.
The last time I was there was several years ago before they decided to actually open up the interior of the main structure. Now that they actually allow people inside (apparently since 2002....where the fuck have I been?) it's a really fun trip. Really fun if you find collasal feets of engineering, material sciences, ecology, and sustainable environments to be fascinating. Also it was really fun just to have someone as jazzed about the whole thing as me to travel with. The only part of the structure you can't really enter is the rain forest, which I would imagine is probably the neatest as well. Next time I'll sneak in with my black jump suit and enter the rain forest covert-ops style.
I've gone ahead and placed the pictures of note on my gallery if your interested.
Biosphere 2 Gallery
(Note: While I like the program I use as a gallery, I think it does a lousy conversion to JPEG. Image quality is a little questionable. I also need to get off my ass and shell out the $1.95 or whatever it costs these days for a permanent domain name)
On a much happier note, the weekend was great. Friday night Phil proposed the idea for a day trip on Sunday to somewhere outside of the greater Phoenix area. The choices were either Sedona or the Biosphere 2 near Tuscon. I don't have a lot of fond memories of Sedona, mostly due to my parents dragging me up there periodically many years ago so we could go antiquing. Consequently, I know hate antiques and most small towns of Arizona, but I digress. Plus the Biosphere 2 is neat, so that was the chosen destination.
The last time I was there was several years ago before they decided to actually open up the interior of the main structure. Now that they actually allow people inside (apparently since 2002....where the fuck have I been?) it's a really fun trip. Really fun if you find collasal feets of engineering, material sciences, ecology, and sustainable environments to be fascinating. Also it was really fun just to have someone as jazzed about the whole thing as me to travel with. The only part of the structure you can't really enter is the rain forest, which I would imagine is probably the neatest as well. Next time I'll sneak in with my black jump suit and enter the rain forest covert-ops style.
I've gone ahead and placed the pictures of note on my gallery if your interested.
Biosphere 2 Gallery
(Note: While I like the program I use as a gallery, I think it does a lousy conversion to JPEG. Image quality is a little questionable. I also need to get off my ass and shell out the $1.95 or whatever it costs these days for a permanent domain name)
Thursday, April 13, 2006
Damn it feels good to be a gangsta
I heard back from one of my professors today that I sent a message to on Tuesday. While expressing his regret that I was not accepted to CMU, he was slightly more than overjoyed at my willingness to stay at ASU. Despite the fact that admission deadlines for fall were back in December, and that they have staunchly remained behind their policy of having paperwork in on time, the chairman of graduate studies sent me this about the fall:
My real world penis is large; but usage of my computer science penis leaves men crying on the shower floor asking ephemeral figures from their past to make them feel beautiful in the hopes of washing away their false desires.
I have yet to hear back from Dr. Xue but I can imagine his response will be the same. Now just to survive the next couple months, save some cash, and look into getting my own place somewhere in the Tempe/Chandler/Mesa region. Life is pretty damn good right now.
I need to vent some of this positive energy...maybe I'll do something absurdly cute for that special someone. Yes, that will do nicely.
Damn it feels good to be the gangsta of computer science. That, or love.
We can certainly get you admitted to our graduate program and
offer you some financial aid. Please give me call or stop by my office
so that we can talk about it.
My real world penis is large; but usage of my computer science penis leaves men crying on the shower floor asking ephemeral figures from their past to make them feel beautiful in the hopes of washing away their false desires.
I have yet to hear back from Dr. Xue but I can imagine his response will be the same. Now just to survive the next couple months, save some cash, and look into getting my own place somewhere in the Tempe/Chandler/Mesa region. Life is pretty damn good right now.
I need to vent some of this positive energy...maybe I'll do something absurdly cute for that special someone. Yes, that will do nicely.
Damn it feels good to be the gangsta of computer science. That, or love.
Wednesday, April 12, 2006
Mmmm, the smell of burnt hair
The only flagrant lie I think I've heard in the recent past is "laser hair removal is painless." That is a complete falsehood. Granted, it isn't as bad as getting something pierced or scraped, but I still feel "painless" is still very inaccurate. Should you decide to have it done, just realize that the amount of pain is directly proportional to the amount of hair you have in the area covered by a single laser pulse... ergo, the tissue surrounding my hairy anus is a weeee bit tender at the moment. The other thing they don't really make obvious is the fact it really takes about a week to ten days for the hair to actually fall out. So for the next several days there's going to be a lot of exfoliating and scrubbing of my back and ass to promote the hair leaving.
Today I also made the first step toward getting back in touch with my professors at ASU. I'm sick of my job. I want to return to full-time-student-hood. While I totally realize that I won't be making the oodles of money I'm making now, I will be a fuck of a lot happier. Corporate America has a way of getting to me like no other. It isn't that the academia is some wonderful place, it's more that it doesn't make me sick to my stomach with stupid menial bullshit day in and day out. I used to read Dilbert. I don't anymore. Why? Because I can fucking witness it first hand. With some student loans and a TA-ship I would be totally set. I just need to find a way to swing getting a small place for myself within the proximity of the campus and my needs will be covered.
Tons of money? I'd gladly trade it for the ability to wake up past 10am and be able to exercise my brain again.
Fuck you corporate America. Fuck you eCommerce. Your kind of neat software development. I'm out!
Today I also made the first step toward getting back in touch with my professors at ASU. I'm sick of my job. I want to return to full-time-student-hood. While I totally realize that I won't be making the oodles of money I'm making now, I will be a fuck of a lot happier. Corporate America has a way of getting to me like no other. It isn't that the academia is some wonderful place, it's more that it doesn't make me sick to my stomach with stupid menial bullshit day in and day out. I used to read Dilbert. I don't anymore. Why? Because I can fucking witness it first hand. With some student loans and a TA-ship I would be totally set. I just need to find a way to swing getting a small place for myself within the proximity of the campus and my needs will be covered.
Tons of money? I'd gladly trade it for the ability to wake up past 10am and be able to exercise my brain again.
Fuck you corporate America. Fuck you eCommerce. Your kind of neat software development. I'm out!
Sunday, April 09, 2006
My think-think no worky
My entire consciousness has been reorganized. I'm going to spend several hours in a coma allowing the indexers to do their job and place things back where they belong.
I feel like I need to do this night justice. Suffice it to say, this was my first "bad trip." At this point I'm just glad that I had Simon there with me. Really fucking glad. I feel I can honestly say what insanity looks like first-hand. What concerns me the most at this point is how I could have neglected my subconsciouss this much. Tonight was a milestone for something. When I know what....I'll let you know.
Phil and Simon, thank you for being the anchors in my mind. I love you both.
I feel like I need to do this night justice. Suffice it to say, this was my first "bad trip." At this point I'm just glad that I had Simon there with me. Really fucking glad. I feel I can honestly say what insanity looks like first-hand. What concerns me the most at this point is how I could have neglected my subconsciouss this much. Tonight was a milestone for something. When I know what....I'll let you know.
Phil and Simon, thank you for being the anchors in my mind. I love you both.
Friday, April 07, 2006
"Man-scaping" or "The Gayest Thing I've Ever Done"
I promised myself that once I had a legitimitely being job that I would use a small portion of my income to engage in various frivilous activities purely for the sake of decadence. For instance, getting a membership at Massage Envy for weekly rub downs, or buy some nicer clothes. Some things purely for comfort, others so I can maintain my membership as a homosexual. I hardly ever buy new clothes, but I enjoy the accessories. Teeth are kind of like an acessory, so I decided to shell out back in December to have them whitened. The results were pretty good and through the course of the one-day treatment (FYI: Brite Smile rocks) I learned that I have naturally dark, but now whiter teeth.
Earlier today I decided once again to employ 21st century technology for my own vanity. I've taken care of initial consultation and setting up of an appointment to have the hair from the mid-line on my back, down to my ass, lasered off. It isn't that I'm particularly self-consciouss about my ass hair, after all, it is a part of me. I just feel that not having it would be equally worthwhile.
Regardless, on Tuesday afternoon I will be employing the power of an alexandrite core laser to super-heat the hair follicles on my lower half.
I'm also half-assedly playing with the idea of trying one of those sunless tanning products my friends have mentioned. Tanned, shiny teeth, and hairless ass. Yes, that is sufficiently gay enough.
Earlier today I decided once again to employ 21st century technology for my own vanity. I've taken care of initial consultation and setting up of an appointment to have the hair from the mid-line on my back, down to my ass, lasered off. It isn't that I'm particularly self-consciouss about my ass hair, after all, it is a part of me. I just feel that not having it would be equally worthwhile.
Regardless, on Tuesday afternoon I will be employing the power of an alexandrite core laser to super-heat the hair follicles on my lower half.
I'm also half-assedly playing with the idea of trying one of those sunless tanning products my friends have mentioned. Tanned, shiny teeth, and hairless ass. Yes, that is sufficiently gay enough.
