Settling In

I wish I had longer to post, but I wanted to let you all know that I'm still alive!

Adjusting to Seattle has been quite an experience! I'm still not fully adjusted. AHhhhhh!!!!

I don't have internet access at home, and don't really want to blog from work, which is why I haven't written yet.

Life's great. I hope I can figure out which way is up soon. Shhesh.

Farewell Fair Provo

Tonight is the last night I shall spend in Provo as a resident of this state. Wow. That feels weird to say. I'm super excited for my new venture, but last night as I was dropping off my Post Office Box keys the thought hit me: What the crap am I doing?! The Post Master took my keys and forwarding address. When he noticed it said "Seattle" he asked me the requisite questions, then said, "Good luck with your new life." How true is that!

The van mover came this morning at 9am, and was followed closely by the packing company, and then the moving company. Wow. They were finished and out of my house by 2. The only thing I have left to do is clean my room and the washroom in preparation for final inspection by my landlord. In my living room sits all my worldly possessions for the next 30 days — four pieces of luggage and a cello.

Tonight, I sleep on the couch, tomorrow morning SuperHotFormerCoworker picks me up and takes me to the air port. Tomorrow night I spend in my new city, in my new life!

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!1!!!!!1!!!!!!!!!!1!!!!!!!!!

Good-Byes

My last task of the day at work was to return a couple of books that I had borrowed from my boss. I went into his office to do so and say good-bye. As I handed him the books he said, "I don't suppose if I were to refuse to let you leave you'd stay?"

"No, I'm sorry." I said with a smile.

He wished me luck, and then changed his mind. "I hope it's terrible, so you come back to us." He said, smiling.

We exchanged brief chit-chat during which time I told him that it was a pleasure working with him (true, the project sucked, and the work bit, but he was pleasant enough) to which he replied, "Working with you was an experience. One I'll not soon forget!"

"Oh great! Was it that bad?"

"I'm not saying anything!" He bantered back.

In the end, he stood, and extended his hand. We shook and he said, "It was a pleasure working with you. Good luck out there." Thanks, man.

Saying good-bye to my friends was a bit more challenging. The one I'm closest to didn't want to part. I'm going to keep my ear to the ground for a job he would like. The poor guy hates his job, and is kind of stuck there. I feel for him, I really do.

I'm so glad I'm finished with that hole!

Neurotic Conversation

This morning as I was emptying the trash in preparation for taking it outside PuppyDogsAndBows was preparing her lunch for the day. I made sure to tell her that the utilities are being shut-off on Thursday, and in order to avoid re-connect fees someone needed to put them in her name tomorrow.

"Well, we'll just have the new roommate put them in her name. I mean, since me and our other roommate are moving out in April it only makes sense to put them in her name, don't you think?"

"I don't know." I responded, dumb-founded by the audacity that she has. If I were the new roommate I would be livid that I was expected to put the utilities in my name. Especially since the only reason it's working out like this is because PuppyDogsAndBows wants to avoid the $110 deposit. "Frankly, I won't be around, so it has no effect on my life."

"You selfish Bitch!" She declared. Selfish? She wants to talk selfish. Here's selfish for her — foisting the deposits off on the new roommate simply because 'It's not fair that me and our other roommate have to come up with that kind of money in the middle of the semester, just because you're moving.' That's selfish honey.

"What's selfish about that? I won't be here, it really has no effect on my life."

"Well, Granola, frankly, your leaving is really inconvenient for our other roommate and me. You've got to clean up where you move." Yeah, that's a direct quote. The grammar is killing me, too.

"I am cleaning up where I'm moving from. That's what's causing all of this!" The root of my selfishness has now been fleshed out — by leaving I'm denying them (where by 'them' I mean 'her') the convenience of not having to come up with that money her own-bad-self. This harkens back to this conversation.

She really didn't like that, so naturally, she went back to the brilliant topic of my selfishness. "Well, you have to admit that what you said was insensitive. Do you see that it was insensitive?"

"No. I don't think there was anything insensitive about it."

"Well, it was." I love the way she "wins" arguments.

I shrugged, grabbed the trash, and walked out the door. Insensitive and selfish my a--.

I love (where by love I mean am amused by) the fact that she thinks she can guilt-trip/manipulate me into doing her bidding. I've seen masters at work, and, frankly, she could try her whole life and never be as good as those masters to whom I am referring. I can't wait to be rid of her.

Now, if I can only survive the next few days.
It's interesting to point out that her little ask-the-new-girl tactic has worked. It really is good reasoning, the motivation is what annoys me.

What I Really Do At Work

Today my friend and I exchanged a series of highly important emails. Names and companies have been changed to protect the guilty, but I trust these can be extrapolated to apply to many other companies within the industry. With that being said, just because the things you're reading seem to be straight out of your work place doesn't mean I sit at the desk next to you. Promise.

These will be presented in a top-down format for ease of read. Lastly, please note that most of this drivel comes from movies, for which I own no rights. I'll credit where possible/necessary.

Enjoy.

What Started it All

No where in your rambling incoherent response did you come close to anything that could be considered a rational thought. We are all dumber for having listened to it. I award you no points and may God have mercy on your soul. A simple wrong would'a done just fine.

Billy Madison

His Reply

You want answers? You want the truth? --You can't handle the truth! Granola, we live in a world that has walls. And those walls have to be guarded by Test Leads with open-source e-mail programs. Who's gonna do it? You? You, Bow-chick? I have a greater responsibility than you can possibly fathom. You curse the Company. You have that luxury. You have the luxury of not knowing what I know: that these mistakes, while tragic, probably saved lives. And my existence, while grotesque and incomprehensible to you, saves lives...You don't want the truth. Because deep down, in places you don't talk about at your farewell parties, you want me on that wall. You need me on that wall.

We use words like ghetto, code, flexatarianism...we use these words as the backbone to a life spent defending something. You use 'em as a punchline. I have neither the time nor the inclination to explain myself to a woman like you, who rises and sleeps under the blanket of the very freedom I provide, then questions the manner in which I provide it! I'd rather you just said thank you and went on your way. Otherwise, I suggest you pick up a weapon and stand a post. Either way, I don't give a damn what you think you're entitled to!

With Apologies to: A Few Good Men

Simple. Direct. And To The Point.

Mr. Friend, what you've just said is one of the most insanely idiotic things I have ever heard.

Billy Madison

Him, Quoting Whom?

The wise student on hearing great wisdom diligently puts it into practice.
The average student on hearing great wisdom keeps it one minute and loses it the next.
The mediocre student on hearing great wisdom laughs at it loudly.
If this student did not laugh it would not be great wisdom.

I wish I knew. This is a really interesting quote.

Lots of Time on My Hands

Tester #1: Halt! Who goes there?
PM: It is I, PM, Project Manager of ClientCompany, from the castle of SoftwareDepartment. Project Manager of ClientCompanyians, coordinator with DevelopmentCompany, sovereign of all ParentCompany!
Tester #1: Pull the other one!
PM: I am,... and this is my trusty servant “Bob”. We have searched the length and breadth of the land in search of testers who will join me in my company at SoftwareDepartment. I must speak with your President and CEO.
Tester #1: What? Searched on the Internet?
PM: Yes!
Tester #1: You're using shoddy code!
PM: What?
Tester #1: You've got two empty halves of shoddy code and you're bangin' 'em together.
PM: So? We have searched since the snows of winter covered this land, through the kingdom of Provo, through--
Tester #1: Where'd you get the shoddy code?
PM: We found it.
Tester #1: Found it? In Provo? The shoddy code's tropical!
PM: What do you mean?
Tester #1: Well, this is a temperate zone.
PM: The swallow may fly south with the sun or the house martin or the plover may seek warmer climes in winter, yet these are not strangers to our land?
Tester #1: Are you suggesting shoddy code migrates?
PM: Not at all. It could be carried.
Tester #1: What? A swallow carrying a shoddy code?
PM: It could grip it by the husk!
Tester #1: It's not a question of where he grips it! It's a simple question of weight ratios! A five ounce bird could not carry one pound of shoddy code.
PM: Well, it doesn't matter. Will you go and tell your CEO that PM from the Company of SoftwareDepartment is here.
Tester #1: Listen. In order to maintain air-speed velocity, a swallow needs to beat its wings forty-three times every second, right?
PM: Please!
Tester #1: Am I right?
PM: I'm not interested!
Tester #2: It could be carried by an Indian swallow!
Tester #1: Oh, yeah, an Indian swallow maybe, but not an American swallow. That's my point.
Tester #2: Oh, yeah, I agree with that.
PM: Will you ask your president if he wants to join my company at SoftwareDepartment?!
Tester #1: But then of course a-- Indian swallows are non-migratory.
Tester #2: Oh, yeah...
Tester #1: So they couldn't bring shoddy code back anyway...
[clop clop clop]
Tester #2: Wait a minute! Supposing sixty swallows carried it together?
Tester #1: No, they'd have to have it on a line.
Tester #2: Well, simple! They'd just use a strand of CAT V!
Tester #1: What, held under the dorsal guiding feathers?
Tester #2: Well, why not?

With Apologies to Monty Python and the Holy Grail

Accepting Defeat

I can't beat you, Granola. I'm good, and heaven knows I've tried, but I ain't in your class. I know when I'm beat, and I ain't too proud to admit it.

More Movie Fun

OutSourceTeamLead: OutSourcePres!
OutSourcePres: (Looking through the telescope the wrong way, shouting.) Whoa!
Programmer off the port bow! OutSourceTeamLead, how you doin' kid? (Lowers telescope to reveal OutSourceTeamLead at wing's length.) Whoa, what a swim!
OutSourceTeamLead: OutSourcePres - look what we found.
RightHandMan: Yeah - we were in this sunken ship - it was really creepy.
OutSourcePres: Geek stuff, huh? Hey, lemme see. (Picks up fork().) Look at this.
Wow - this is special - this is very, very unusual.
OutSourceTeamLead: What? What is it?
OutSourcePres: It's a dinglehopper! Geeks use these little babies . . . to straighten their code out. See - just a little twirl here an' a yank there and – voiolay! You got an aesthetically pleasing configuration of code that Geeks go nuts over!
OutSourceTeamLead: A dinglehopper!
RightHandMan: What about that one?
OutSourcePres: (Holding pipe()) Ah - this I haven't seen in years. This is wonderful! A banded, bulbous - snarfblat.
OutSourceTeamLead and RightHandMan: Oohhh.
OutSourcePres: Now, the snarfblat dates back to prehistorical times, when Geeks used to sit around, and stare at each other all day. Got very boring. So, they invented the snarfblat to make fine Web Sites. Allow me. (OutSourcePres blows into the pipe(); gunk pops out the other end.)
OutSourceTeamLead: Web sites? Oh, the roll! Oh my gosh, PM's gonna kill me!
RightHandMan: The roll was today?
OutSourcePres: (Still contemplating pipe().) Maybe you could make a little splash screen out of it or somethin'.
OutSourceTeamLead: Uh, I'm sorry, I've gotta go. Thank you OutSourcePres. (Waves.)
OutSourcePres: Anytime man, anytime.

With apologies to The Little Mermaid, my friend's "all-time favorite" movie.

And, Finally

E: So, you and RightHandMan still working together?
PM: No. Not really.
E: Why is that?
PM: Well...he's jealous. Says I'm livin' too much in '82.
E: Really?
PM: Well, I dropped him. What about your project?
E: Well, things are goin' pretty good right now. I mean, we program online for, like, two hours every day... so I guess you could say things are goin' pretty good. I'm just really tryin' to raise a few bucks right now so I can bring in a few testers.
PM: Yep. Well, what's it look like?
E: It's uh-- it's got a dog. It's, uh, pretty-look-- pretty good-looking interface, but... I'm just gettin' really-- just kinda T.O.'d because, I mean, it hasn't even had a successful build yet.
PM: Hey, you know... I got a little project... that we might be able to make a little moola with.
E: Really? That sounds pretty good.
PM: Have you ever heard of OurDistributor?

No apologies here, straight-up stolen from Napoleon Dynamite

Finishing Up

I'm leaving for Seattle on Friday. I should be madly packing and moving things, but I'm not. Why not? You ask. Simple. The movers are coming Thursday, and I'm not allowed to pack anything. So, while I should be stressing out about moving, I'm really not. And, while I should be packing, I'm actually acquiring more junk. And, and, while I should be stressing about packing and moving I'm actually concerned that I'm not really worried about anything. I think Wednesday I'll do some cleaning before they arrive.

I highly recommend this movers thing. Holy cow! Super nice!!

Lost.

Well, I had two really long posts up here last night. Today, they seem to be MIA. I'm contemplating trying to remember what all I said and re-writing it, but I'm just not sure. They were both super-emotionally charged. Grr. Now I have to back-up my blog. *sigh* Why, oh, why?

Missionary Training Center

My kid sister started her mission today. She will be serving the people of Chicago for the next 18 months. We're all so very proud of her!

She arrived in Provo this morning at 11. Our Aunt and Uncle (not the pair I got to hang out with in Jerusalem) drove her down, then took us out to eat as Sizzler. The funniest part of the whole ordeal was when all four of us ordered salad. Sheesh — had I known that was going to happen I would have suggested a salad place. Oh well! After lunch Aunt and Uncle took off and Midge and I headed to the Missionary Training Center (MTC).

As I drove up I was directed to kick her, and her luggage, out of the car. I mean, we unloaded her so she could take her luggage to the appropriate spot while I parked. We met up, as directed, in front of the building. We took a few pictures before going inside. She got her name badge, then joined me. Apparently, since she had family with her I got to put the badge on. As I clipped it to her lapel I commented on her "dork-dot".

"Basically!" She laughed.

"No," I said, "That's what they call it!"

"Oh."

We went inside the chapel for the service. We sang "Call to Serve" and she started crying. I am so proud of her! After the song we had a prayer, then one of the Branch Presidents and his wife each gave a talk. Hers was titled, "It's All About Love." The general gist was that those going on missions were exhibiting a lot of love, and those staying behind were showing it as well. She talked about the sacrifice required for both groups.

After the speakers we watched a movie on missionary service. That's when Midge really lost it. She started bawling, in true girl fashion. After the meeting we stood up to say our good-byes. Missionaries go out one door, family goes out another. We hugged each other. Then I said that she should head out. She didn't want to go. Poor girl. Then, one of the Elders left and I said to her, "That 19 year-old boy just showed you up. You wanna be shown up by a 19 year old boy?"

"Yeah. I don't care."

We talked for a little longer, hugging good-bye. Another boy finally extracted himself from the family. I said to her, "Well, Midge, someone's gotta be next." She slowly turned and left. I watched go out the door — so proud of the choices that she has made in her life to get her to this point. She didn't look back. I'm glad.

She's going to have a good mission. I just know it.