![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Demo Day
Got to work early, more because I had slept in all 3-day weekend and it was way too amusing that my wake-up radio station is KOMO in Seattle which was all about Seahawks and bad traffic. I loved one quote, which was with a story on how prices for Things Seahawks have suddenly gone up in price and down in availability:
"It's like Christmas - Don we now our game apparel"
I did a dry run of the demo from my desk, couldn't use the conference room because it was booked. It worked, and I was able to add some ideas on how to explain stuff.
11 am, demo in the conference room. Boss decided to make it a 4-day weekend. Boss' boss also did not show, though he didn't respond to the calendar invite. Otherwise we had the whole team.
It ran flawlessly, everyone stayed interested and even applauded at the end.
Next up was Automation Guy, but his demo was Murphied. Nothing worked. Sad, because it was a pretty simple script and mega-useful. What it was supposed to do was launch our "streamer", a server which has a library of video files which it can be told to multicast across the network. It can also add errors to the stream. We can watch the video on a media player (like VLC) and see when it craps out from too many errors. What it actually did was fail to find the IP address of the multicast. Boo. Hiss.
The rest of the day I read docs and chatted with Automation Guy. Lunch was Andy's BBQ, which now either makes the world's worst baked beans, or they got my order wrong and gave me the world's worst Chili. I'm guessing the latter because there was meat in it. The brisket was okay, the garlic bread was mushy as usual, and the prices have gone up. $20 including tip. :-(
Home by way of Lucky's because I was almost out of ice cream, down to my last edible banana (I had to slice up 4 last night and freeze them for smoothies, before they turned black). And I only had 2/5 limes left and they were on sale 3/$1.
Vegged out, gave Domino the last of the bag of treats (don't worry, I have 9 more). Had to remind myself to step away from Facebook at 8 an shoot up and have dinner. Fresh & Easy swedish meatball frozen meal, very small portion so I didn't share with Domino who sat in the floor in front of me staring all the way.
Channel surfed, saw a very good interview on CNN featuring a very pretty Seattle correspondent interviewing Richard Sherman about his rant after the 49ers game. He was pretty disgusted with the molehill-->mountain press coverage, and came across as the Stanford Communications master's candidate he really is off the field. Bottom line: He was in Beast Mode because the game had barely ended, and he doesn't like Michael Crabtree, because Crabtree has consistently been a jerk to him off the field.
In other news, I can see the top of the dryer for the first time since unpacking was finished. It had been hidden under a pile of foam dish protector squares, Stryrofoam packing corners and the box which the kitchen light fixture came in which is mostly foam. None of these are recyclable, and until now they could not fit in the garbage can. 35 gallons severely tapered did not work for more than two garbage bags or one plus a litterbox cartridge. The 65 gallon container swallowed three garbage bags, all the foam and the box. Normally I only toss one or two bags a week, and the litterbox doesn't need changing more than every other week, sometimes every three.
There is one more box which will go into the garbage a week from now. After that I'll be all caught up.
Got a postcard from a long lost friend in Canada, whom I prod yearly by sending a calendar. She says her life is chaos, but that's not surprise, she is married to a math professor.
Time for some humorous nostalgia.
I met Leslie in 1967 when a bunch of college folkdancing friends piled into a van and drove straight from Seattle to SF for the annual Kolo Festival. Two girls were sitting outside catching some air (and it was President's Day weekend so it was chilly air) wearing very thin linen peasant blouses. We could tell how chilly the air was from what we could see through the thin material. One of my buddies and I chatted them up a little, Leslie and Hillary, from Portland Oregon, but after it was established they were still in high school and under-aged, we waved and went in to dance and chat with women our age.
In 1973 I moved to Astoria, OR, which at the time was a very boring place on weekends, so I would drive into Portland on Saturday, go to folkdancing at Reed College, and stay in a motel overnight and drive home Sunday afternoon after hitting the Burnside market or Chinatown. Or maybe OMSI.
Lo and behold, not only were Leslie and Hillary regulars at Reed folkdancing, Leslie was one of the teachers and she led a lot of the harder dances. Somewhere during that year when Leslie found out I'd been staying in cheap motels, she got her mother's permission to let me come home with her after dancing and sleep on the couch. Her mother was a retired concert pianist and had a Steinway grand in the livingroom which she let me play.
Leslie was not interested in me romantically, she was just being a good person giving me a place to stay. And she was still jailbait. I was 22 she was 16. And besides, I really was more attracted to Hillary.
The girls went to a posh school named Catlin Gabel. Her senior year, which was either 73 or 74, Leslie was teaching the high school folkdance class, and she invited me to come to a folk festival at the high school. One of the dancers had beautiful black silky hair down to her knees, and I fell in lust. I was sitting by myself on a log, at the fringes of the festival, and this girl came over and sat next to me. Paula. We chatted, she invited me to come to her house the next weekend and meet her mother. It turns out that her mother was an aunt of one of my high school/college best friends.
We didn't get to chat much more because Hillary and about four of her friends came over to chase Paula away, telling her I belonged to Leslie. Leslie had no idea. In fact, Leslie had started dating one of the Indian students at CG.
Small world 1: Paula moved to Seattle, and went to the UW. I was back in Seattle then, and we got together for just long enough for her to tell me she was engaged or close to it.
Small world 2: I moved to the Bay Area in 1981, and since I was going to drive through Portland, I called Leslie's mom to find out if Leslie was receiving visitors, and her mom said Leslie had moved to Berkeley and I could find her teaching folkdancing at Cal.
Which I did.
But she still wasn't interested in me as more than friends.
Eventually she met a math whiz at Cal, he got a job at Western U in London, Ontario, they are now married. Unless the chaos she mentions on her postcard is about that. But I kind of doubt it is.
Paula is now one of the producers at Seattle Opera, and we're Facebook friends. Leslie, OTOH, mistakenly blames email and the Internet for having her identity thefted, and will only communicate by phone or snailmail. Time zones make phone impractical. Hillary married someone she had been dating at folkdancing, I haven't heard from her in years.
The irony, it burns:
Had math & science group at the library on my calendar tonight, but bailed. Lazy.
Plans for tomorrow:
Work
Bingo at the community center at 7 pm. A chance for neighbors to see me.
"It's like Christmas - Don we now our game apparel"
I did a dry run of the demo from my desk, couldn't use the conference room because it was booked. It worked, and I was able to add some ideas on how to explain stuff.
11 am, demo in the conference room. Boss decided to make it a 4-day weekend. Boss' boss also did not show, though he didn't respond to the calendar invite. Otherwise we had the whole team.
It ran flawlessly, everyone stayed interested and even applauded at the end.
Next up was Automation Guy, but his demo was Murphied. Nothing worked. Sad, because it was a pretty simple script and mega-useful. What it was supposed to do was launch our "streamer", a server which has a library of video files which it can be told to multicast across the network. It can also add errors to the stream. We can watch the video on a media player (like VLC) and see when it craps out from too many errors. What it actually did was fail to find the IP address of the multicast. Boo. Hiss.
The rest of the day I read docs and chatted with Automation Guy. Lunch was Andy's BBQ, which now either makes the world's worst baked beans, or they got my order wrong and gave me the world's worst Chili. I'm guessing the latter because there was meat in it. The brisket was okay, the garlic bread was mushy as usual, and the prices have gone up. $20 including tip. :-(
Home by way of Lucky's because I was almost out of ice cream, down to my last edible banana (I had to slice up 4 last night and freeze them for smoothies, before they turned black). And I only had 2/5 limes left and they were on sale 3/$1.
Vegged out, gave Domino the last of the bag of treats (don't worry, I have 9 more). Had to remind myself to step away from Facebook at 8 an shoot up and have dinner. Fresh & Easy swedish meatball frozen meal, very small portion so I didn't share with Domino who sat in the floor in front of me staring all the way.
Channel surfed, saw a very good interview on CNN featuring a very pretty Seattle correspondent interviewing Richard Sherman about his rant after the 49ers game. He was pretty disgusted with the molehill-->mountain press coverage, and came across as the Stanford Communications master's candidate he really is off the field. Bottom line: He was in Beast Mode because the game had barely ended, and he doesn't like Michael Crabtree, because Crabtree has consistently been a jerk to him off the field.
In other news, I can see the top of the dryer for the first time since unpacking was finished. It had been hidden under a pile of foam dish protector squares, Stryrofoam packing corners and the box which the kitchen light fixture came in which is mostly foam. None of these are recyclable, and until now they could not fit in the garbage can. 35 gallons severely tapered did not work for more than two garbage bags or one plus a litterbox cartridge. The 65 gallon container swallowed three garbage bags, all the foam and the box. Normally I only toss one or two bags a week, and the litterbox doesn't need changing more than every other week, sometimes every three.
There is one more box which will go into the garbage a week from now. After that I'll be all caught up.
Got a postcard from a long lost friend in Canada, whom I prod yearly by sending a calendar. She says her life is chaos, but that's not surprise, she is married to a math professor.
Time for some humorous nostalgia.
I met Leslie in 1967 when a bunch of college folkdancing friends piled into a van and drove straight from Seattle to SF for the annual Kolo Festival. Two girls were sitting outside catching some air (and it was President's Day weekend so it was chilly air) wearing very thin linen peasant blouses. We could tell how chilly the air was from what we could see through the thin material. One of my buddies and I chatted them up a little, Leslie and Hillary, from Portland Oregon, but after it was established they were still in high school and under-aged, we waved and went in to dance and chat with women our age.
In 1973 I moved to Astoria, OR, which at the time was a very boring place on weekends, so I would drive into Portland on Saturday, go to folkdancing at Reed College, and stay in a motel overnight and drive home Sunday afternoon after hitting the Burnside market or Chinatown. Or maybe OMSI.
Lo and behold, not only were Leslie and Hillary regulars at Reed folkdancing, Leslie was one of the teachers and she led a lot of the harder dances. Somewhere during that year when Leslie found out I'd been staying in cheap motels, she got her mother's permission to let me come home with her after dancing and sleep on the couch. Her mother was a retired concert pianist and had a Steinway grand in the livingroom which she let me play.
Leslie was not interested in me romantically, she was just being a good person giving me a place to stay. And she was still jailbait. I was 22 she was 16. And besides, I really was more attracted to Hillary.
The girls went to a posh school named Catlin Gabel. Her senior year, which was either 73 or 74, Leslie was teaching the high school folkdance class, and she invited me to come to a folk festival at the high school. One of the dancers had beautiful black silky hair down to her knees, and I fell in lust. I was sitting by myself on a log, at the fringes of the festival, and this girl came over and sat next to me. Paula. We chatted, she invited me to come to her house the next weekend and meet her mother. It turns out that her mother was an aunt of one of my high school/college best friends.
We didn't get to chat much more because Hillary and about four of her friends came over to chase Paula away, telling her I belonged to Leslie. Leslie had no idea. In fact, Leslie had started dating one of the Indian students at CG.
Small world 1: Paula moved to Seattle, and went to the UW. I was back in Seattle then, and we got together for just long enough for her to tell me she was engaged or close to it.
Small world 2: I moved to the Bay Area in 1981, and since I was going to drive through Portland, I called Leslie's mom to find out if Leslie was receiving visitors, and her mom said Leslie had moved to Berkeley and I could find her teaching folkdancing at Cal.
Which I did.
But she still wasn't interested in me as more than friends.
Eventually she met a math whiz at Cal, he got a job at Western U in London, Ontario, they are now married. Unless the chaos she mentions on her postcard is about that. But I kind of doubt it is.
Paula is now one of the producers at Seattle Opera, and we're Facebook friends. Leslie, OTOH, mistakenly blames email and the Internet for having her identity thefted, and will only communicate by phone or snailmail. Time zones make phone impractical. Hillary married someone she had been dating at folkdancing, I haven't heard from her in years.
The irony, it burns:
Had math & science group at the library on my calendar tonight, but bailed. Lazy.
Plans for tomorrow:
Work
Bingo at the community center at 7 pm. A chance for neighbors to see me.