feline is an evil, evil, evil woman for showing me this.  I dedicate it to my old college roommate, Scary Mike. 




~EEE~

P.S. Yes, I know I owe like a dozen people some emails.  I'll get on that sometime between now and my imminent death by not getting enough sleep.

So. . . soccer. . . tequila. . .delicious food. . . and they don't like emo kids?

Seriously, just open the border to Mexico already. What's not to love? Hola, amigos!

~EEE~
I'm so going to Hell.

. . .but Panera Bread is ok in my book. 

It's the closest joint to my office that has wi-fi, and well, for the price of coffee I can outdo my Network Nazis and check my damn Gmail.  On a work laptop no less.  I'd prefer to be at Mayorga, since it's local and the coffee's better, but I can't walk there.

Fuck the man!

~EEE~

So. . . I can post this here, because I'm pretty sure Seema doesn't read my journal. 

Honey, if you're seeing this before 7 PM tonight. . . Stop reading. :P

Anyway, as part of a month of birthday celebration, I'm taking my girl out to a show tonight.  Now, she's seen these guys years ago, possibly as one of her first concerts.  So, really, this is more something I felt like doing for me and surprising her with, because that's how I roll[0].  Yes kids, we're going to see the 90's wonders that are the Presidents of the United States.

At any rate, that in itself isn't blogworthy, short of possibly confusing some of the folks who only know me for listening to the goth/industrial set.  No, something much bigger came up.

In poking around trying to figure out who the openers are, I realized that Jack Talcum is actually Joe Jack Talcum, who used to be involved with the Dead Milkmen.  If you are not aware of who the Dead Milkmen are, thenmrdisgruntled will be around shortly to hit you in the head with a tackhammer for not hitting Wikipedia before asking stupid questions.

So yeah, Ethiopian food, Punk Rock Girl, and Peaches. 

This should be a good night.


And for anyone wondering, no, I am not so 90's that I also opted to see Wheatus and Nada Surf on their respective dates.  On the other hand, if Nerf Herder is still around and comes through down, I'll probably shit my pants.  Yes kids, my highschool and college days were populated both with lots of metal and punk, and a nice dose of nerd rock.  I discovered other stuff later.

~EEE~

[0]  For anyone about to bust out the Haterade, note that I already threw her a badass party, and am taking her to a much bugger surprise on Friday.  Furthermore, suck my balls.

This overtime shit is for the birds.  I'm salaried, so I don't even get paid for it.  If I weren't finally learning something useful, I'd be pissed.

Instead, I'm only burnt out.

Yes, I am posting today.  On two journals, no less.  One of them isn't even a paid account.  And I'm leaving comments.  If you're gonna "boycott" or strike or whatever, do it for something that actually makes a difference.  Seriously.  The rest is just mental masturbation.

~EEE~

After a couple days working from home for various reasons and out on travel last week, I'm back in the office to find that not only are they still doing construction, but it's apparently RIGHT OVER MY FUCKING HEAD!!! 

Seriously, I don't know what the hell they're building, but they really need to be done with it already.  That, or my job needs to be a lot more lax on the telecommuting rules until this bullshit is finished.  My entire team sits 3 hours away, and at this point, I pretty much need to talk to one person on a semi-regular basis.  Given the option of driving 30 minutes every day to the flat out 'burbs, or working in a high-rise in a walkable area that also happens to be where I sleep, I'm with the latter for the moment. 

I'll follow the rules again when they stop pounding the ceiling like a $4000 hooker, but for now, I want to work at home or a Starfuckers or something.  Jeebus.

In other, completely annoying news. . . Tree Bukkake Season is officially on.  I've spent the last few days wondering why my cold and/or strep throat won't go away, and then realized that morning and nighttime sore throat and sinus issues are related more to tree spooge than anything else.  That, and when I got to work today, my newly washed blue car was covered in yellow powder, despite the fact that I park in a garage now.

Apparently the warm winter has caused nature to make the pollen facial action coincide with the daylight savings switch.  Let's hope it ends quickly, because the last 30+ years of "The War on Drugs" has made it so that I can't even get real Sudafed anymore.  Fuck you Nancy Reagan!  If you hadn't cracked down on the good shit in the 80's, we wouldn't have meth heads to worry about!

So yeah, I'm not doing so hot today.  On the flip side, rereading my last post, continued dieting, and general exhaustion from work has pretty much kept me off the booze, and will continue to until at least Saturday, if not longer.  Tree jizz and construction around me make grueling work hard enough.  I don't need any more trouble right now.

Arrrgh.

~EEE~

Dear self,

Eric, you didn't intend do to this to yourself, but you did.  St. Pat's, Mike's Party, whatever. . . you are drunker than you've been in ages, and it's not treating you well.  It was stupid and immature, and you're blogging it so that you remember this moment on the way to adulthood.  You're damn near 30, and it's time you chilled the helll out.

BTW, you owe Seema bigtime.  She is taking care of you in ways that practically no person ever has.  Make sure you take damn good care of that woman.  She is a keeper.  Those promises you've been making to yourself and others. .. .. make sure you make good on them to her.  She deserves it, and it'll make us a better person.

Really, you have a problem, and you need to fucking deal with it, you fucking drunk.


It's going to get better, just make sure you remember what all happened in the morning.  You will overcome this, but you need to remember that this happened.  It'll help you learn.

~EEE~

I'm marking another milestone today, too, although this one isn't tied to a calendar date.  I mostly just want to remind myself where I am now, where I've been, and why I can get back there.

I can't remember a time when I was in shape and my correct weight, especially if you go past early childhood.  At some level, American society, growing up in the 80's (when ketchup was a vegetable!), my parents, etc. probably can be blamed for starting that, but free will kicks in eventually.  Even with bad information, I've mad plenty of choices on the bad side when I damn well knew better.  Highschool is when it really went downhill, because I wasn't athletic, and frankly, I really loved me some Chef Boyardee and Hot Pockets.  And don't get me started on Banquet chicken.  I still can't eat that shit due to the amount I used to eat as a teenager.

Well, fast forward a ways, and the highest weight that I've ever caught myself at is around 250 lbs.  Note that I'm barely 5'7",  so that's an assload of weight to carry on these knees.  I think the worst of it actually came when I didn't have a car or money, because it's cheaper to eat like crap, I didn't have a ton of time on my hands during the week, and it's really hard to avoid that Crackdonald's by the bus stop on the way home when your blood sugar is all wacky.  Those habits didn't die hard when I did get a car, because then I could afford to eat out more, and that I definitely did.

At some point, a girl I was trying to get with flat out told me that my weight was a huge turnoff.  It's rude, but note that we were friends at the time, and are still great friends.  I knew I was overweight, since I was minutes away from shopping in Big and Tall for my pants, and it sure as hell wasn't for the tall part.  I just hadn't really heard it from anyone quite like that.  It's sad to know that I did it all for a woman, but it was as good an excuse as any.  Also, to give this mystery woman a bit more credit, she encouraged me to join her gym, and we were workout buddies for quite a while.  I also slowly improved my diet, and while I didn't know exactly what I was doing at the time, even the haphazard stuff helped out a lot.

After losing a good 30 pounds by going to the gym and eating better, albeit haphazardly, I met a girl that I did get with, and am still with.  My dieting and exercise since then has been a bit up and down, but at one point, I was going at it pretty hardcore.  Eventually, I managed to drop just under 200 lbs., bringing my total up to a good fifty pounds.  Unfortunately, due to a combination of laziness, vacations, holidays, etc., it didn't stay off.  I shot back up over my hardest goal of 220, and have just finally beaten the beast back to just under 220.  It wasn't as hard to tame it this time, since I have better tools, but it hasn't been easy.

So yeah, I have 20 pounds to go, and I don't want to stop once I'm there.  I have at least three weddings to go to this year, and I'd like to be one seriously good looking motherfucker when I put my suit on.  I've done it before, and I can do it again, and then some.

I am the guy who paid off 50 grand in debt, and just this week officially paid off two cars (since the loan for one was continued into the second).  I am the guy who managed to make it through two years of walking and the bus[0].  I'm the guy the who dropped 50 pounds. 

I did these things.  My mistakes led to challenges.  My challenges made me stronger.  I may be soft on the outside, but I can be that guy again if I need to be.  I just know better than to bring it on myself this time.

I am powerful.  I need to remember that.

~EEE~

[0] I am aware that in a major city, especially on the East Coast, this is normal.  This is not the case in the 'burbs, where it is a serious car culture.

I'm marking another milestone today, too, although this one isn't tied to a calendar date.  I mostly just want to remind myself where I am now, where I've been, and why I can get back there.

I'm marking some milestones right now, and no matter how much I have to gripe about, these are some damn important things to remind me of where I've been, and why now isn't all that bad.

The first milestone is money.

While I'm at it. . .

Yo Dude in the Office Next to Mine,

I have an office, not a cubicle.  My door is shut.  I have loud punk music playing on the speakers in here.

Somehow, I can clearly hear your ass talking to someone about football.  Now, by my calendar, that ended a good two weeks ago, and the news that the Redskins hired some nobody as a coach came out a while ago.  Yet, you've been talking about the subject, and your love of a team that has been horrible for years now, all throughout the season, and every single day since the Superbowl.

Now, I don't give a fuck what your hobbies are.  I'm not enough of a sports fan to care about trash talking your beloved team, even if they clearly just don't win too often, and are owned by a multi-millionaire who doesn't give a fuck about you.  Hell, I can even respect your loyalty to something, if you want to look at it that way.  That's your own business, much like the fact that many of my hobbies and associates are atypical for this workplace.  I have no quarrel with that.

No, my issue is that it is YOUR business, not MY business.  I should NOT be able to hear your ass every day, day in and day out, inside a closed office with music blaring.  I don't know what it is you do here, but clearly, you have a lot more free time than me.  I occasionally get to bitch about things on the internet, and slightly more often read about other people's drama that I CHOOSE to read about.  I really don't have time for your bullshit.  Really.

So yeah, tone it down a bit.  You're talking to the dude two feet from you, not an entire auditorium.  That way, you can still live your life, and I can get back to being frustrated about work, and find other things to passively aggressively bitch about on the internet[0].

~EEE~

[0]  I call it like I see it.  I can knock on myself too. ;)

Dear Experts-Exchange,

Remove your brand of filth from Google results, and possibly the entire Internet, post haste.  You have been the plague of myself and others who simply want to find well documented fixes to previously handled problems for years now with your sliminess.

Also, report to the same corner of Hell that I have reserved for those fuckheads who run certification mills and advertise on the radio.  You know the one.  It's where they give you the false hope of actually leaving that Hell, before ramming an acid covered, spiky tentacle up your useless asses.

Suck my balls.
~EEE~

Dear Users of Technical Forums on the Internet,

I am fully aware that the average engineer does not have the best grasp on the English language, even if it is their first language.  We were all more concerned with math and science classes and dicking with our computer than we were in taking creative writing courses and such.  I will even admit that I am not a top notch writer myself, as I am myself a programmer with an engineering job title.

All that aside, I think "engineers can't write LOL" is a poor fucking excuse for the atrocities I am running into whenever I try to find information on various technical forums.  I don't mind a few spelling or grammar errors here and there[0].  Everyone makes mistakes.  No, this is the utter pile of shit that is the language used in AIM/text messaging, and other horrendous bullshit that makes it so hard to find information that pouring through the fucking code makes more sense than the prose explaining it.  I am tired of otherwise intelligent people writing like they are giggly 13 year old girls.

For the love of the Flying Spaghetti Monster, Bob J.R. Dobbs, the Chaos Monkey who shit the world into his hand, religious and philosophical figures from all major religions past and present, literary deities from fantasy and comics, deities who may or may not exist and are unprovable, the faith that comes with lack of faith, and even motherfucking Xenu. . .

<b>Stop it!  Just. Fucking. Stop.  If you're discussing in a technical forum, with the idea of helping others learn and share information, make that information actually readable, or get the fuck out!</b>

I have come to accept bullshit text messaging language, repeated unintelligible spelling, and other grammatical skullfuckery as an "acceptable" part of Internet forums some time ago.  I really don't care what the kids at Fark, Something Awful, 4chan, etc. are doing.  Hell, I've even come to accept that this sort of thing is normal at places like Slashdot, Digg, etc. where you'd hope for better.  But in technical  exchange forums, it is just ridiculous[1]. 

I want to read about how to handle something in Java, not how you're "loosing" data in "ur app cuz u r uzing" the wrong method.

In closing,
Clean it up, or get the hell out.

~EEE~


[0]  That said, I'm mostly cruising Java forums these days, and anyone posting there in the past couple years is most likely using Firefox, Opera, Safari, Konqueror, or some other browser that likely includes a spell check.

[1] Hey look!  There's not a fucking "e" anywhere in that word.  That's another rant, however, for another day.

Streaming audio at work is the shit when you're having one of those days that involves 8 hours of trying to find a needle in a haystack.

SABOOOOOOOOOTAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Edit: Here's the video, because I can.



Edit 2: I accidentally deleted a bunch of comments, thinking I was deleting comment messages. Gah! I shouldn't touch this shit before I've had coffee. So yeah, if your comment is missing, it was a mistake, not me pissing in your Cheerios. I appreciate the love, after all.

~EEE~

P.S. Regime! Sing it with me! I command you!

Open bar is nice, but not so nice on a Thursday night, and really no good if the only person you recognize is a friend of a friend who either doesn't remember you, or just doesn't give a fuck.

Also, rum does not make pretentiousness go away.  I'll try again a couple times, but I really fucking miss Alchemy, despite the fact that I don't have to drive across the Anacostia to get there.

~EEE~

I grabbed this thing from bombyamom. 

Fill this out please, so I can get to know more about you.
If you're on my friends-list, I want to know 36 things about you. I don't care if we never talk, or if we already know everything about each other. Short and sweet is fine ... You're on my list, so I want to know you better!

Be honest! Copy from here, then send directly to me in a comment, then repost the empty questions.

~EEE~

----------------------------------------------------------

So yeah. . . I've been cut by Occam's Razor in a completely mundane sort of way.  As an update to the last post, it really was the FBI calling, and things have just changed a bit from the last time I had to go through this procedure. 

Now they check ALL your orifices.

Just kidding. It was just a friend getting a security clearance.  I thought his stuff was being handled by another agency altogether, but apparently the FBI is running these things now.  It's been a while since I've had to vouch for anyone. 

In a way, I'm relieved that someone from my past didn't come up as an issue, or that my midget sex slave smuggling ring wasn't uncovered.  That was close.

Looks like mrdisgruntled was right after all, so he gets a cookie.  He also gets my man-love, because he's a sexy beast, and all the ladies need to get all up ons.

~EEE~

So. . . I've been getting a fair number of calls lately on my cell phone from what I can only assume are telemarketers.  Random numbers calling from all over the US, several times a day, and not leaving a message.  I screen the caller id, so I don't waste my time picking up.  After a few minutes, I Google the number and see if there are complaints about the number, and sure enough, it's always well documented that there's a scam going on.

Note that a couple days ago, this was a bit scary, since the number of the day had a 602 area code, which is Phoenix.  My father, grandmother, and a slew of other family live out there, so I almost answered that one.  Turns out it was indeed a telemarketer.

Today was no different, in that a random number called me, albeit one that was much more local.  Since it was Baltimore, I once again almost took the bait.  I didn't, and did my usual Google search, only to find out that, no, this is not a well documented telemarketer number.

It's the number for the Maryland field office of the FBI.  They didn't leave a message, so I'm going to assume it was either an incorrect call, or well, someone just spoofing the number.  I'm guessing the latter, since most big phone setups seem to show one number for outgoing calls, and another one for hotline type numbers. 

Still, though, my friends are crazy, and they will fucking kill you, so maybe the Feds were looking for someone I know.

Or maybe it's me they're after.  Given the current political climate, it may well be a federal offense to be dating strong minded, independent women of South Asian descent.  If you don't hear from me after a while, I expect a full brigade busting me out of Gitmo.

~EEE~

Is douchebaggery is the new asshattery?

Discuss amongst yourselves.

~EEE~

So, for the last 3 plus years at work, I've been supporting this mediocre software that supports a pretty useful purpose.  Unfortunately, while it made me a lot of internal contacts, my management all but ignored my team, and couldn't figure out what to do with us.  It also led to a fair amount of grief, as I had some pushy ass customers, and frankly, sometimes we just couldn't things in the tool whatsoever. 

The whole experience was good in that it gave me a lot of leadership experience, even if the actual technical side of things won't mean jack on my resume.  I had to do the usual paperwork for management that I wouldn't see as a code monkey, and even had a team of minions, including a couple new hires.  Towards the end, it was getting overwhelming, mostly due to that lack of support from management, so I'm glad I got out when I did.

The whole business transferred to another team at the beginning of the year, but tonight I finally sent out a note to everyone and their mom noting that I'm not involved anymore, and not to bother anyone on my team.  Call the new boss, and leave me out of it.  Thank you, come again.  Even though I whipped up a fairly nice memo about it, I made sure to send it after 6 PM EST on a Friday.  If I could have, I'd have sent it right after Christmas, but time got away from me during the holidays.  Regardless, short of a few west coasters, some people are going to have a huge surprise in their inbox on Monday.

Sure, the fact that one of the new bosses is my officemate makes it a little harder to let go.  It's doubly true when I realize from talking to him that the new team may take something that has promise, but was floundering, and send it to a slow, agonizing death.  But, now that I've sent that note, and stemmed the tide of future emails my way, it feels pretty good.  It's the corporate equivalent of that relaxed feeling that comes after a really powerful orgasm (or a good dump, come to think of it), or just sleeping in on a Saturday.

I'm moving on to something new, which is usually when I'm at my most excited.  I get to close this chapter for now, chalk up the experience points[0], and move on to learning J2EE and soon some .NET.  Once things settle down a bit, and I know I won't be working random night and weekend hours to get things done on a faster than ASAP schedule, I'll probably start taking some classes.  It's about time I went back to school, so I'm not left out completely when the next crash comes.

On a related note, I need to take some time to update the old resume and polish my LinkedIn profile.  I am happy now, but it's always good to keep my options open, especially once my on-paper credentials actually start looking employable again.  Life in this business isn't great if you don't have a clearance, and aren't sure if you want one anyway.[1]

*ahhhhhhh*

~EEE~

[0]  Work is now a role playing game.  Office: The Tedium

[1] From a Bob Marley lyric as related to me by bombyamom .  . . "Rasta don't work for the CIA".