A New Beginning

I spent most of Saturday afternoon meeting with the new members of the company. I have to be cheesy here and say that it was most exciting. We talked mostly about the imminent demise of matabang kalabaw, but it was fun.

Friday night, we went out for drinks after work. I finally met Leon who was charming and very nice. I have to admit that I was very nervous to have to live up to the picture that Brenda painted of me, but it worked out OK. I found out that matabang kalabaw fired all of the guys in the department on Friday. She left the girls alone...and she didn't even have the nerve to stick around to explain herself. But then again, why should she have to explain anything to anyone? She's the boss, right? Hahahahahahahahahaha. She's fucked in the head.

So then Saturday night, I spent at the Watergarden again. Nothing but poseurs. No action, lots of guys standing around waiting for something better to come by. It rained pretty hard that night, and so I spent a lot of time in the hot tub, outside in the pouring rain. I liked the feeling of the cold air on my upper body while my nekked lower body was submerged in hot water. And then I slept for a few hours.

So then I woke up this morning (Sunday I finally finished Anne Rice's latest, Blood and Gold, and that's all I did so I won't waste a paragraph on it. I loved it of course.) at about 9 a.m. and had nothing to do. It hasn't hit me yet, but I feel like I'm on an extended weekend holiday or something. I'm sure. All I know is that this gives me lots of time to accomplish some tasks that have been sitting on the back burner until now. I love this. I even bought real food to eat during the week because I'll finally be here to eat it! I know that sounds ultra-bizarre, but that's my life. No food, just Kool-Aid in the fridge.

And then I fixed the template. Thank my stars.

Sooooooo Sorry

I know, I know. It's been over a week since I last posted anything. It seems that it was much easier to post while I was at work being bored all day long. Now that I am working from home, so to speak, I can't find the time to write anything here. I have to change that. It was my intention upon creating this blog to update it daily, and now that I've gotten flack from certain people, who shall remain nameless ahem I realize that I've lost my focus.

I've been fixing up this lousy PC, and finally I got it to work. I never thought that it could be so freaking difficult. All of these drivers and jumpers and cables and such like that. I added a 20 GB hard drive to one of them only to find out that the BIOS of the machine doesn't recognize anything over 8.4 GB. WTF? Whatever. So, apparently, one can upgrade the BIOS chips by physically replacing them, to allow for bigger storage capacities. And apparently, the newer PCs use flash BIOS to allow you to download the updates directly to the chip without replacing anything. Hmmm, whatever.

I'm just glad that I finally got it running. I will only use it for work-related stuff, but who knows, I might have a change of heart and realize the value of Schmindoze. And then again, monkeys might fly out of my butt.

DSL works. MS Office works. Win 98 actually works well on only 48 MB of RAM. So, I'll upgrade eventually. I know this all makes for fascinating reading.

I spent the weekend with the dogs again. Only they were house-sitting for another dog. This little guy is just a year old, and he's a beautiful dog, don't get me wrong, but he just fucked me up with my allergies. I never really react to dogs anymore, but little Belmont, the Golden Retriever puppy, had me sneezing, coughing, aching, stuffy headed, and not sleeping. 'S OK. He was so cute. I love dogs.

The work thing is still developing, so I don't really know what to say about it yet.

That's all...for now...

Working hard, or hardly working?

I had a full-day meeting chez RJ today to discuss our generic style guide issues. It was the first real task upon which we embarked in this new organization. It was fun to dissect and create and then dissect the creation (sic), and I look forward to it. I get the feeling that we are the "experts" and we will have to teach the client everything (or thereabouts) that we know about our jobs. So, in a way, I'll have to teach my replacement, but this time it's in a good way.

Speaking of replacements...hahahahahahahahahaha. Matabang kalabaw still manages to make an ass of herself. She lied on her résumé about how she had extensive Documentum experience when we all know she's never even used the product before. So, her new boss comes in (a month early, mind you...gee, I wonder why?) and they start discussing the further implementation of Documentum. She had a meeting with cute, hunky, beefy, IT-God Steve in which Steve told her that a) she didn't know what she was talking about, and b) he (w/)couldn't help her. He doesn't have to, you see.

RJ in his glory, decided that IT be responsible for hardware maintenance ONLY, and that his department be responsible for software maintenance. In other words, my former department was in charge of implementing and maintaining this software, and IT was pretty much out of the picture...after they allocated the servers for the software. RJ had a special working relationship with the director of IT, and they agreed that if RJ wanted to investigate new technologies without the hassle of corporate red tape, IT would let him take full responsibility for implementing, etc. Pretty weird if you ask me, but considering that I became an expert in my "field" because of this arrangement, I like it.

So, Steve didn't help matabang kalabaw at all. And he did so for one good reason. About a year and half ago, matabang kalabaw didn't get the support that she wanted when she wanted it from Steve, so she took him to HR and proclaimed that he was abusive and abrasive and not doing his job. Anyone who knows Steve knows that he's a big, ol' teddy bear who probably wouldn't hurt a fly if he had to. I had a huge crush on him for that exact reason. He's just plain adorable. And in the two and half years that I worked with him, I have never seen him abusive or abrasive or even angry. Never heard him swear, never heard about him swearing. So it's just too hard to believe that m.k. could lie like that to an authority. I can't do something like that, so I can't imagine how easy it would be for someone to do. It almost hurts to know that she is so vengeful and angry that she would try to take someone down in such a deceitful and slimy way.

Anyway, loooooooong story short, Steve has no reason to help her for anything. And because all of IT know and love Steve, they won't help her either. Too bad because without IT support in a position that requires massive IT support, you're pretty much up Shit Creek. Hahahahahahahaha. I love that.

It's been only a week and a half since I dropped that job, but still I get a little kick out of this silly stuff. I know I have better things to do with my time, but I still love it.

And I love the orange shortbread and the custard squares that my dear friend Ken made for me. Mmmmmm, shortbread. Thank you, Doll.

That's all.

No Luck

I went into the City this morning to do some things, and I thought that I might just give BART a ride. Bad idea. Really bad. No luck there. Bad idea.

So then I come home and manage to network my iMac and my new/old/refurbished Dell. I got this Dell from J, and I'm sure I've told you all about it by now. Anyway, it's up and running very well, I might add. It's got an ethernet card, so I can connect to the Internet and all that. So then I get this software called Dave, which allows me to connect my Mac to a Windows machine for file transfers and such like that. It took a few minutes, but I managed to get it to work. It's amazing what I can do with my Mac. Windows software people would never think of doing something like this, so it was upon the Mac programmers of the world to discover this really awesome code. So now this old Pentium can share files. I don't have any way to get the files off of the Dell, so this is perfect...as perfect as Windows can be (sic).

Oh but that leads me to another thing. I have this DSL connection, right? Well, lately, I have been experiencing less than 200 Kbps connection rate. So I call up Earthlink (no link here because I don't know if it's worth the code) and ask around for an explanation. The first person I talked to said DSL was kind of a best connection available. There was no guarantee of the 1.5 Mbps limit that Earthlink gives its home users. But 200 Kbps, I asked. No answer...at least not good enough for this cow, darling. So I wait a day or two and call back. I get another guy, they're all guys in Tech Support, and he tells me the same line. No, unacceptable. So he walks me through DSL Reports and their bandwidth testing tools. They have a tool to tell you exactly what rate your downloading at. I managed a paltry 178 Kbps at about 1330 hours on a Tuesday. Hardly peak time for home users. So he said he would do some digging around for a better answer. I called back a few days after that, and this time, Noel told me that Covad put a cap on the connection limit of my DSL line. Huh? Well, if that's true, I'm gonna put a cap on someone's ass chez Covad, uh huh, that's right. So, I've begun a dialogue with Covad. I only hope they will take me seriously. I would really appreciate a faster download. Blah blah blah.

That's all.

It Figures

I got an e-mail response back from Covad. They pretty much just told me to get stuffed. I had contacted their "ISP support," and that I should contact my ISP for tech support. So obviously, they didn't even read my fucking e-mail. So, I'm stuck getting close to modem support for $50 a month, no one fucking wants to help me figure out why. I might as well get stuffed. It might be more fun, goddammit.

That's just about fucking all, thank you.

Well, now...

Is that how I feel? Am I sure about that?

I feel better now even though my rant is valid, not that I need validation or anything.

I'm getting bored with this work-at-home thing. I need to be busy. Busy, busy, busy. I'm not not not. I had one little, itty bitty project to work on, and now that it's done, I am just sitting around. Even the Internet gets old after a while...but then again, a 56K connection tends to wear out its welcome pretty quickly.

Ah, but then there's always cute ass Lara Croft. Would I go straight for her? Ha, not in a million. Would I be her for Hallowe'en next year? Possibly. But then, I think I've been pegged for Wonder Woman of the New Justice League. Have you seen that? Hmmm.... What were they thinking of? At least they didn't bring back the Wonder Twins.

Il s'agit des détours

A couple of thoughts:

Saturday night, as I was watching the sky, a scary image crossed my line of sight. A plane flew overhead and I saw the lights of the plane in the shape of a cross. There were two lines of intersecting lights: one down the fuselage, the other across the span of both wings. What could this mean?

Could it be another right-wing ploy to instill the fear of God in us all, or at least to make us recognize His Divine Presence? No, that's my paranoia talking. Although, the FAA is run by the government (that's where "F" for "Federal" comes from, right?), and we know that a large portion of the government is obnoxious bible-thumping idiots. Uh, nope, still paranoid.

So, then I thought that perhaps they were direction indicators, just like the green and red lights on either wing of the plane, as well as on boats and ships on the sea (that much I do remember from my illustrious Navy career), only these guide people below the plane or all the way on the ground. I believe it works that if you see green, you have the right of way, and if you see red, you have to yield to that ship. In any case the different colors indicate the direction of the moving object because there is only one green and one red and they're on opposite sides. Blah blah blah.

So, that was all about seeing a cross of lights on the underside of a plane.

And then, as I was still watching the sky, I remembered that The Bangles (my favorite all-girl group behind Bananarama) were supposed to have a new album out this year. I saw that on their VH1 Behind the Music, at least I thought I did. It was out the same time that the Go Go's had theirs, so maybe it was wishful thinking? If it wasn't wishful thinking, where is it then?

Watching the Sky is one of my favorite of their songs; it's off of Everything, their last album together.

Tangents, people, tangents. I think I'm famous for them.

It's one week before I fly home to Mom and Sis in CR. Then we go to Chicago for Xmas joy and hoo-haas. Can't wait. Really. Thrilled as all hell. Hey, I get BA miles for flying American Airlines as part of their OneWorld thingy. That's good. I'm starting to get anxious just thinking about it. I hope the nice flight attendants have tranquilizers for me. Yeah, I suppose they do, it's called Tanqueray. Woo hoo!

Spent the night at the WG Saturday night. What a crock. Saw a guy there who I've seen on BART before, in the (L)East Bay, and he recognized me, too, and he wouldn't leave me alone. "Hey, haven't we met before somewhere?" he asked in a silly, wanna-be-sultry voice that instantly puts him in a baby blue leisure suit, white patent leather loafers, and big Sophia Loren sunglasses somewhere in 1977. I'm sure you can picture the type.

I just looked at him like, "please, front desk, let me know my room is ready, like NOW!" But no, they didn't call, and when he found out later that I had a room he started following me around like love would lead him back or some shit. He's married, trying out the "gay thing." "For shits and giggles?" I asked him. "Huh?" he replied. Yeah, whatever. *Sigh*

New Rule: Don't go to the baths if you have plans the following day. Too messy.

The next morning, I drove out to RJ's for a work meeting. Those were my "plans," and since I was in mixed company (gay and straight, that is), I couldn't exactly get into much detail as to why I had bags under my eyes, and my scalp was still tingling from being in the steamroom hiding in the clouds most of the night.

Before I made it to RJ's, though, I stopped off at the Vista Point on I-280 south. It's fairly "well known" if you catch my meaning (hell if I am going to advertise here, for crying out loud). I only went to check my e-mail via the old Palm VII wireless whatever. (I am a total gadget freak.) I had a half hour to kill anyway. And who did I see there but Big and Beefy from the Colma train on the 30th.

(What did I say about tangents?)

I suppose I didn't mention him before. He's this Side of Beef (SOB, ha, that's cute, I just got that) that got on Colma-bound BART at Montgomery. I'm on my way back to Daly City to meet Blauth and Simone for drinks, and reading the end of (or what I had hoped was the end of) Blood and Gold when he props his leg up to reveal an over-stuffed crotch. The car was mostly empty, but still I was a little embarrassed for him. He looked familiar, but I couldn't place the face.

Anyway, he made it very clearly known that he was interested in me, and I made it clearly known that, while I was enjoying his free show, I wanted to finish this book. He didn't seem to pick up on that. When we left Balboa Park and came back above ground, he pulled out his mobile and dialed his wife. He chatted up "Susan" for a while and made dinner plans all the while stroking his stuffing. "I'll be home soon. Love you." *Kiss noise* Ick.

Ok, while I don't have a problem doing married men, I think that they should at least keep the cruising part separate from the wife part, unless they're both swingers in which case it's just plain wrong. I mean, cruising while talking with the Missus just isn't right. But I was intrigued. So I followed him to Colma and watched him as he walked up the stairs, thrusting his big package in my direction every so often, waving at me to follow. I was on sort of a time schedule, and so I passed him up on the offer.

Later that night and weekend, I couldn't help the regret I felt for passing up such an offer. He was a hunk, just my type, and I basically told him to take a hike. When will I learn? Regrets are not exchangeable when all is said and done, so why am I so disinclined to jump on opportunities when they're practically thrust into my face, literally?

Anyway, three weeks later, I see SOB at the 280 Vista Point and there he was prancing around staring at people in their cars, and then of course I remember that I had seen him up there before. Last year, at this time in fact, I was driving RJ's Miata (and beginning a love affair with the thing at the same time) and happened to stop by the 280 VP. He remarked at my "package," I remarked at his, he expressed his regrets at being short on time, and I said something silly like "maybe later, huh?" He just winked, got in his car, and drove away. So there too was another missed opportunity. Fuck fuck fuck. WHEN, WHEN am I going to learn?

So, Sunday morning, I was driving my own car, I drove right past him. He stopped and stared for a second and then got in his car and drove away. So much for "third time's a charm." At least I know a regular hangout for the guy. If I'm really that interested in finding out what he's got to offer, I know where to go.

But am I that desperate? I don't know. I think he's attractive, and the whole wife thing doesn't bother me that much. I've been with men who I knew were married at the time. Eh, so what? Does that make me a bad person? No, it makes me human. And did I take and break a vow? No. In fact, I made a vow to myself to be true to myself, and I do so frequently. That's why ol' Mr. Leisure Suit didn't get any from me on Saturday night. Whatever. I'm sure I could put this much more eloquently if I weren't so tired.

So, I'm making up for lost time with this tome.

That's all.

Nothing spectacular

What a boring day. We finished our style guide over the weekend and submitted it for the review of the client on Monday, and as of yet, I haven't heard any feedback from the client. Who knows what they're thinking now. I get the impression that the client expected a five- or six-page document when we gave them 112 pages. Hahahahahahahaha. It's a fucking style guide, not a cheatsheet. This is how all of their documents are going to look. Well not really. It was a generic style guide with approximations of what their documents should look like. It's for submission to a regulatory agency that will (possibly) approve your drug. Of course it's going to be more than five- or six-pages. Of course it's going to be overwhelming if you're clueless! Duh. So, I can't exactly expect them to have read over the thing in the span of today. Considering what I accomplished today, I sure hope no one else did much more.

Went to check the po box. Took my time getting back. I'm reading an interesting little novella about a queen and a debutante who are famous private detectives in San Francisco. It's a little odd, but humorous. Orland Outland's Death Wore the Emperor's New Clothes. Escapist reading, mind you. I don't usually go for the deep and heavy stuff. That's probably why I had to drop out of college. Reading Homer just isn't for me. Don't make me interpret my own fucking language. Just tell me how it is. Even though Homer wasn't originally written in English. Whatever. I don't like to have to guess what the artist is saying, and that's exactly why I only admire art for it's ability to look good on a wall in a room, not for how the artist felt when s/he created it, and not for the fucking social commentary.

J has a reproduction of a Georgia O'Keefe hanging in our place. It's a skull of a cow or something...I'm sure you've seen the representation in countless Road Runner cartoons. Anyway, he was asking me what I saw in that picture, and I said "the remnants of a dead animal with a big white rose in its mouth." So then he goes on at length about who Georgia O'Keefe was and how if you look at a certain angle, the skull looks like the nether regions of a woman or some shit. I was all, "Puh lease. Why do we have this here? Why do I want to look at that picture now that you've explained it to me like that?" And please don't call me ignorant. I'm just not into art.

So after I checked the po box...and after that obnoxious detour through my mind...I got my little hot ass back on BART and headed home. Only, I went via Colma for a ciggie poo...I'm not an addict, I'm not an addict...and then I got my (tight) hot ass back on the Pittsburg/Bay Point line headed for Rockridge. Somewhere along the way, a very, very, very cute man got on. Maybe it was at one of the Oakland stations. Can't remember. Anyway, he was just plain adorable. Tall, hunky, glasses, bearded, Simple shoes, reading sci-fi (always a plus), and he made serious eye contact. I mean, not just glancing, but almost leering, but that's OK for him because I could leer into his baby blues any day. He's my type exactly, and I'm hoping to find a sturdy hairy chest under that casual, worn t-shirt. Exactly the kind of guy with whom I can spend the whole day in bed. Just cuddling. Talking. Sleeping. Does that really happen to people? I wouldn't know. I never learned. *sigh* I hope I can see him again. On the other hand, he could have been leering at me because I was a big ol' faggot and such like that, only, when I stood up to exit the train, his eyes went a wanderin' a little too far south to be straight. I love men. God, do I love men.

That is so all.

Harry Kim Plays Beowulf

I had a rude awakening today. No, not that Harry Kim was acting as Beowulf on the holodeck, although that would have done it for me. I was put in my place (more or less), and, thankfully, in my own head. No one cut me down. I simply realized that I was on the other end of the age old saying "the customer is always right." I am no longer the customer. I am the consultant giving services to a customer, and that customer, not I, is right. It just sucks big eggs that I have to let these people make mistakes now that will cost time in the long term simply because they don't like my answers. They would rather have it their way than take my word for it. OK, so part of it is a slight to my ego, but the other part is the possibility that they could turn ugly (not too difficult for some of them...they're close enough already) and blame us for the fault. This could damage the reputation of the company and of me. Now, take into account that this is the first time in my life that I have ever been a consultant, and the first time that I have had such a reputation on the line, and then determine if I'm overreacting.

It rained again today.

It took me two hours to get from Belmont to Oakland on the Bay Bridge this afternoon. Simply unacceptable. Why can't people just learn how to merge?

RuPaul has a blog!

Girl actually sits down and writes about her parties with Liza. I just about died. Well, I must say, I love RuPaul and am glad to add a link to my blog list.

I have an immense respect for drag queens/female impersonaters/gender illusionists. They have such courage and pride. I have never done drag before. I can't imagine how difficult and daunting is the task of venturing out in public dressed as a member of the other sex either on a Halloween gag or as a career. I haven't worked up the guts yet, although I've given the heels some practice, and with a good wig and some decent makeup, I'm pretty sure I could do a good enough job. One of these days....

And then there's this. I hope this guy isn't holding his breath. I don't understand people sometimes. "Minimum criteria"? Give me a break! Who the hell (in San Francisco) can measure up to something like that? Even if they did manage to fit the bill, would they actually want a relationship that was already planned out and colored in? How dreadfully boring that would be, I must say. Sounds like a genetically altered relationship. Stepford wife anyone? I'm not one for dating anyway, but if I were in the market for a lover or even a quick screw, I would much rather not know anything about the guy until much later. I think getting to know the person and finding out all of the foibles is part of the fun. Whatever. Good luck, dude.

That's all. Gotta watch my witches.

Mary Xmas

That's it. Today I'm going over to the dogs, and Sunday I'm flying back to Iowa. I looked at my itinerary today, and I noticed that on the way there I have an hour-and-a-half layover in St. Louis. Coming home, however, I have a three-hour layover in St. Louis!!! How much fun can I possibly have this holiday? Well, we'll see, and I'll have to write it all down and get back to you in a week. I don't know if they have computers in Iowa yet. Hahahaha. Of course they do, silly. But I'll just be having so much fun, I simply won't have time to blog it all! Oh well.

Happy happy holidays, people.