Back In Boston

2004-06-13T15:00:00.000-05:00

Friday evening's plans were spontaneous. When I left work I headed to Central Square where we ended up visiting the local Whole Foods Market to buy vittles to eat on the Cambridge-side bank of the Charles; a superb idea.

While I was disappointed by the exclusion of high fructose corn syrup products, including the much-beloved Pepsi lineup, we found no shortage of other items for a perfect picnic dinner including: baked chicken, grilled vegetables, pasta salad, fresh guacamole and chips to dip in it, key lime pie, watermelon chunks, and my first sampling of Vitamin Water, which tasted like slightly chalky Gatorade. The prepared foods section almost rivaled the revered Wegmans of my college days. And for those who once resided in Fairfield County, CT, the atmosphere wasn't as stimulating as that of Stew Leonard's.

Thus today, instead of merely heading to Stop and Shop, I was looking for a shopping experience that might result in a richer bounty of foods. The nearest Whole Foods is a ways up past Washington Square, a distance I wasn't inclined to walk, and an area, and endeavor, I wasn't willing to drive for. Backup choice: Trader Joe's.

I ventured into foreign territory this afternoon in search of quality guacamole and low prices, both of which I read about in the current Fearless Flyer. I left with all that and a jar of salsa and a sampling of the frozen burritos I had read about. Tissues and anti-perspirant still required a trip to Stop and Shop on the way back, but all in all it was a positive experience that results in a more convenient place to stop for good food when I step off the T at night. Now if I can just switch my poison of choice to Two Buck Chuck, I'll be all set.

In between Friday's plans and today's foray for food, I've been relaxing and enjoying the nice weather and, at times, suffering from extreme pain. Twice in my life I can remember with distinction, as well as a few other minor episodes, I've had a pulled muscle and subsequent troubled nerve in my back. Driving back from Target yesterday I felt the slight onset of stiffness and pain and thus opted to lay down on the couch when I returned to begin the latest Dark Tower volume that I had just purchased. About four hours later I awoke, unable to move. Any twist or turn: getting up, sitting down, shifting, bending, standing, walking, sent such pain through my back that all muscles instantly froze and tightened, including when I'd take a deep breath. Finally, after a healthy dose of Ibuprofren and some time spent pacing from one end of the apartment to the other to loosen things up, life became tolerable again. It's still there today, but not as acute.

Now I think I really must vacuum or risk being victim to a burgeoning dust bunny population. Ronald Reagan's on "American Experience" on PBS, which is offering a more balanced view than the media did last week.

2004-06-10T18:06:00.000-05:00

It (the AC) hasn't fallen out the window or anything and is actually running quite nicely right now, taking some of the humidity out of the air, but...

When I laid down in bed last night I had flashbacks to dreams from the previous night and the morning about that fucker. I realized that not only had I really laid awake thinking about it, but it also did haunt my dreams. Last night, probably out of exhaustion plus the realization that it hadn't so much as shifted in 24 hours, coupled with the fact that it probably wasn't running as much in the cooler dead of last night, I slept better. Once it started to become light out, though, which already pulls me up into a lighter sleep, prone to awaken periodically, I became much more conscious of it again. It was probably running more frequently too; the room starts to warm with the morning light. I ended up bumping the thermostat all the way up to 81 via the remote, kicking it back off, and squeezing a pillow over my head, but it was too late: at 6:30 I was awake.

Now I'm about to reheat some chinese food via the toaster oven and microwave. Wish me luck.

2004-06-09T20:05:00.000-05:00

Today was fun. I got really, really, REALLY hopped up on caffeine and then had nothing but ice cream for lunch.

Actually it wasn't all that fun. Mr. 8000 Fucking BTUs kept kicking on for short bursts with insane regularity all night long. And before I receive a recommendation that I could've turned it off, or set the timer to go off, let me say that my bedroom window has a direct eastern exposure, with the sun peering glaringly between two buildings, and so the hours of 5:00 - 7:00 AM are the hottest part of the day in there.

What difference did it make, though? I lay awake uncomfortable anyway.

I woke up all night long. Finally I hopped out of bed at 6:55. First order of business was to kill the winged ant and the hornet that had gotten in around the AC to hang out in the other window. Then.. I.. dragged.. my.. feet such that I was still late for work.

On the way in I stopped at Starbucks. What the hell; it's pay day. Venti Iced Mocha with an extra shot of espresso. That's a quad shot. And, like shots of alcohol, after downing the beverage by 10:00 I didn't feel anything but mild stimulation until about 1 hour later when I suddenly found myself with the jitters and typing at an insane pace, data flying across my screen at Mach 2.

At noon I was approached by a co-worker for lunch. Now, on a record-setting, steamy day, my goal would be to spend no more than 30 seconds outside before retreating back into the air-conditioned coolness of the mall to find food. No such luck. Today we hopped on the Orange Line to head to the State Street stop and then WALK to Government Center, in the hot, humid sun, to donate $7 to the Jimmy Fund to eat lots and lots of samples of ice cream.

After a sweaty 1/2 hour of that, we got back on the T and headed back to work where I drank a cup of water before realizing that I was in dire need of more kick and switched to a Pepsi. Which didn't fortify me for long. I was zoning out big time.

Allow me to interject with my explanation of who this Jimmy is, as provided to my foreign-born co-worker: "Jimmy's just a poster child. I don't know, at some point there was a Jimmy, with childhood leukemia or something. If he's alive he's gotta be in his 30s. Maybe 20s now. He's just a face and a name."

So, I held out til 5:50. Then I left. Waited forever to get on the T because of the #$@$!% Sox game and got a short haircut when I got home. It's fucking hot out.

Bed soon. Pray that I've adjusted to the noise of the AC. I'm beyond worrying about the fucker flying out the window.

Oh, I almost forgot: One goal this evening was to see if the other bedroom outlet had more juice, to try to get it on a different circuit than everything else. It didn't. I've got no more than 102 volts on any outlet in here. Household voltage should be 115-120 volts. The actual outlet Mr. 8000 BTUs is on is only kickin about 99.

Now it's raining.

2004-06-08T21:19:00.000-05:00

With a forecast tomorrow of STEAMY and today not much better, tonight was officially designated Get A Fucking Air Conditioner, Man! night.

I headed to Home Depot this evening, when it was actually starting to cool off, to scope out the selection. I probably would've opted for the 6000 BTU with remote, over the $78 bargain 5000 BTU, but instead I went for the not-so-big Big Guy: the 8000 BTU model with remote control and timer.

While this should guarantee me a summer of at least cool nights for sleeping (it's in the bedroom), it will probably most likely instead guarantee a summer of waking up in a sweat in the middle of the night, terrified and anxious that the AC will plummet all the way, way, way down to the asphalt alley in back. My fear of heights doesn't have so much to do with the height, but with my unyielding belief that anything high up, near an edge, will fall. Standing near a ledge or a railing, even my wallet, nestled securely in the ass pocket of my jeans, is bound to fall from my possession, and I'm likely to freak out and leap after it in my mind. So, while the new AC is probably actually doing just fine SITTING on the window sill and storm frame, balanced on its own weight, despite its seemingly precarious angle, the window that I'm lucky if it stays open to where I want it, much less exerting any pressure when doing so, isn't providing that extra bit of faith that you like to have when a small appliance is perched in your window.

They're old, wooden windows, with non-fancy, non-high-tech glass in them. Technically, yes, the window is closed behind the lip that runs along the top of the unit, although it's not being leaned against because I instead opted to close it on a piece of foam along the casing. Why? Because the AC and window combination have resulted in a horrible vibrating, rattling din that I've done everything in my power to soften. The final step will be to find something of the perfect length to wedge between the top of the opened window and the windowframe, pushing the window down upon the AC, squishing out some of the rattles and offering me a little piece of mind.

If my neurotic, paranoid mind will accept it.

Then there's also the fact that every time the AC kicks in to do its thing, the lights all dim for a second. And if the AC's running, doing its thing, and the fridge kicks on, the lights all dim for a second.

Like I said, in store for me are nights waking up in a terrified sweat that Mr. 8000 BTUs will cause me some degree of catastrophe.

For dinner tonight, I had Indian. Tonight's menu was provided by Rani, an establishment in Coolidge Corner that advertises "Hyderabad Cuisine." Having a co-worker FROM Hyderabad, I suggested he join me there to point out good selections from the menu. And so we had a great meal of Kingfisher IPA, Vegetable Pakora, Chicken Biryani (which Hyderabad is known for), Garlic Nan, and Murg Masolam (a chicken dish with Basmati rice and lentil soup). I do like the Indian cuisine, but I really like dishes with distinct pieces of food and flavor. This met my expectations. The staff was very friendly and accommodating too, and my Indian guide was pleased with the food: a rare feat.

UPDATE: I eliminated up to 60% of the rattling/vibrating/buzzing by putting some pads under the removable filter where it rests, and under the extendable wings on the sides. Ah, serenity.

Actually, pulling the filter out a bit so that it's wedged tight in its slot rather than sitting loosely in it works best. And, using my fluorescent desk light instead of the overhead one, I don't think any lights out here are dimming anymore. Perhaps in the bedroom still, but c'est la vie.

UPDATE 2: Egad, No! The bathroom lights did just dim when the fucker kicked on! The bathroom lights dim when the toaster oven runs! What will happen when I try to heat up something in the microwave! I think this may call for running an extension cord all the way around the bedroom to that lone outlet on the far wall.

Time to get another extension cord.

2004-06-06T17:56:00.000-05:00

The first weekend in June is setting the month up to be pretty dismal. Friday was, yet again, muggy by the end of the day, although lunch on the patio at the Cottonwood was strictly sunny and hot. I think I most enjoyed the weather around 4:30 AM that night when catching a cab in Kenmore after attending a modest bash there, celebrating the final such event in a friend's apartment before he moves up and on to home ownership with his girlfriend. Those of us who were beyond college in any form seemed most chill that evening, enjoying a few drinks and the benefits; those who had recently finished a semester of grad school were cutting loose and still seemed to be spiraling downward when I left.

Saturday I slept til 1:00 PM, but to no ill effect: I simply hadn't gone to sleep til 5:00 AM and had been at work til after 8:00 the previous evening, on-hand to lend my support to a database migration. It went smoothly. I hopped out of bed only to clean up the place and shower and get dressed and chill online for just a bit before heading back out into the city. The sun was warm, the weather was mild. My polo and jeans and flip-flops were fine for walking from Coolidge Corner to Copley, but then the clouds eclipsed the sun and it started getting damn chilly out.

Soon enough I was back indoors for dinner at The Cheesecake Factory and then some wandering around en route to Loew's on the Common, where I watched Harry Potter and The Prisoner of Azkaban. Different, but good, and Richard Harris is missed. More than Ronald Reagan, I might add.

And today? Today I had to make a quick drive to Cambridge and back, taking too soon a turn on the return trip and hopping on the Westbound Pike rather than Cambridge Street to get back to Allston, but hopping off at the Watertown exit put me back in familiar territory. Since then I've been sitting here, hiding from the miserable gloom that the weather outside has transformed into, finding myself with socked feet and long sleeves on for the first time at home that I can remember.

2004-05-31T20:34:00.000-05:00

Sadly, my long weekend filled with pastry and burgers and chips and fiesta dip and lots of soda, shopping, lounging on the sun-soaked Boston Common or in my sun-filled and breezy apartment has come to an end.

To show for it I have some new clothes for work and play, some new tracks in iTunes, and the first feeling chill that I've really experienced lo these past three months. I reached a point yesterday afternoon at which everything was pretty much done, and nothing was looming straight ahead. I leaned back in my desk chair and surveyed my walls and felt instantly comfortable and relaxed. And I allowed myself to do nothing for the rest of the weekend that might jeopardize that.

I was compelled to leave again yesterday afternoon, though (the first time being to go out and do laundry -- which was such an opportune time on a beautiful holiday weekend afternoon) and take advantage of the beautiful weather: sunny, dry, beautiful weather that hurts in its reminder of the weather out West last summer. I headed to the Common, book in hand, and lay there for two hours reading and just enjoying the sun before heading back home. My flip-flopped foot got stepped on by an old lady on the T and I didn't even care.

I've slept in every morning and today was no exception. I slowly awoke and slowly got the day going, and did some sorting of more old stuff around here before heading to Stop and Shop for some fixins. Tonight's ironing wasn't even such a chore, as I triumphantly managed to do 7 shirts in 50 minutes.. before continuing with other miscellaneous shirts and pants.

And now, Finis.

2004-05-29T10:32:00.000-05:00

Last night I wined and dined in Boston's North End, having dinner at a trattoria on some street that cut between North Square and Hanover. I don't remember the name of it. But the presumed owner, a gregarious Italian fellow with big gray hair, garish wraparound glasses and a leather coat who stepped right out of Goodfellas or The Sopranos, cajoled us into entering to eat. The Pollo Marsala was good as was the Chardonnay.

So was the Mike's pastry purchased afterwards, although we didn't eat them til arriving home. In between we wandered the city a bit and then Coolidge Corner long enough for a stop into the Brookline Booksmith. It was a pleasant, relaxing evening to wind down a hurried week, although this morning's crisp, dry weather would have been preferred to last night's mugginess.

2004-05-24T19:54:00.000-05:00

Tonight I'm paying for this weekend's follies. Actually, tonight I'm paying for blowing off yesterday to lie horizontal all day in terrible pain due to one kingfucker of a hangover instead of doing my laundry and ironing and cleaning up the place.

'Tis the price you pay.

Ben arrived around 5:30 on Saturday and we headed promptly to the Coolidge Corner Clubhouse for dinner. It's Ben and I've had a cold and...it's Ben. I figured we'd go out but we'd be drinking beer. So I was a bit surprised when, after having a Corona with my Ted Williams burger, Ben said he was inclined to drink liquor that night.

And the mayhem ensued.

Margaritas before heading out on my part, and then settling in at the Pour House to start the night with another 'rita and the first shot of Blackhaus. After that we adjourned to Whiskey's where the Blackhaus and tequila poured.

Poor, poor me.

I don't know if it was the cold medicine I took so my head would clear up before drinking, or the more typical reason: that the rate of consumption of shots and hard drink DOES NOT equal the rate of intoxication. Thus I find myself way, way, way drunker than I need to be about 1.2 hours after I have my last shot and/or drink.

Such was the state I found myself around 4:00 AM, back at my apartment after a cab drive home during which Ben regaled the cabbie and his 12 year-old son (what was he THINKING on a Saturday night) with all sorts of sordid tales. Sick I found myself, sick, sick, sick, and laying flat on my bed at 4:30 hearing my door buzz.

Why? Because Ben had left the apartment to wander the streets of Boston in search of the girls he had met and reconnected with by the phone. He was on his way down the sidewalk when they told him that they'd only allow a visit by TWO gentleman.

I told Ben to go the fuck to bed.

At 1:30 PM the next afternoon, after waking up on and off, I fully awoke to Ben knocking on my bedroom door. He greeted me and showed me the palm of his hand with "Kill Mark" on it in Blue Sharpie. Ben wasn't too pleased 9 hours earlier with the turn of events, and I wasn't too pleased with the way I was feeling.

The day was shot. I spent it horizontal with a mind-rending headache and a stomach that would tolerate no food or drink. Finally late in the evening I was able to eat an english muffin and the recovery process began.

But it wasn't until the slice of pizza for lunch today that I really felt better, and then I came home to wolf down hot dogs and beans and mixed veggies before diving into my laundry and, now, ironing.

The apartment's still a mess.

'Tis the price you pay.

2004-05-22T08:38:00.000-05:00

What I need is to have my BB gun from my childhood here so, on a morning like this, I could mount a high-powered scope on its barrel, pump it 25 times instead of the recommended 10, and use it to embed a nice round copper BB in the forehead of the son of a bitch who was running a leaf blower in my neighborhood at 8:30 on a Saturday morning. I'd probably end up doing him and myself a favor: the latest trend in body modification. I could be rich. Pay $50 to let some angry jackass launch a titanium BB into your forehead from 500 yards away. Surely the insurance costs would be prohibitive, though. Too close of proximity to the eyes and brain. Although in this fucker's case, the value of the latter is questionable.

So now I'm up. Day.

City Could Not Stop - hangs on my bedroom wall.

2004-05-18T21:32:00.000-05:00

So nice to have a day off. So quickly the world rushes back in to fill the void.

2004-05-18T15:22:00.000-05:00

It seems like there's such urgency to everything lately and the 2-month hiatus I took from worrying about car ownership has bit me in the ass.

I watched Colonial House last night and then went to bed, alarm set for 6:30 so I could get up and go get the state inspection for Goldie. Feeling crappier than I did yesterday, with yet another head cold, I emailed work and went back to bed. Finally I dozed back off and slept til 9:30.

The local gas station/garage was able to handle both the state and insurance inspection so I went and did that. Then I went to the grocery store and caught up on household necessities. Then I ate some cantaloupe and burned/ripped iTunes to send to Hoss. Then I made some lunch. Then I scraped the old registration/inspection stickers off the windshield of the car and cleaned it up. The car is already, by the way, covered in pollen and twigs and leaves again. Then I called AAA and straightened out my membership before the new insurance throws a fit. Then I called to cancel my old insurance.

I guess I didn't realize the last time I registered my car in MA that I had to hurry up and deregister it in NYS. I knew when I switched back to NYS last Fall that I had to surrender plates here before my coverage could be cancelled. I found out today that if I don't get the plates back to the NYS DMV, they'll fine me $8 a day if there's no insurance on it.

Huh.

So, I gotta send those back that way tomorrow and once I do so the old insurance will be cancelled. And I was told not to worry about the payment due tomorrow.

But, that doesn't mean that I'm done worrying about the car, because after all of this I'm afraid to let it sit again and I feel a need to keep a watchful eye on her lest some other age-related problem manifest itself.

We'll see how long that lasts.

2004-05-17T18:59:00.000-05:00

Goldie and I are reunited and she's back, safe and sound.

(Well, I'm not sure how sound she is with each passing month, but you know what I mean.)

I picked her up from the garage tonight. Grand total: $287 for the alternator, $32 for the new serpentine belt, 162 freakin' dollars in labor, a $24.95 oil change and $25 disposal fee. They were good, though. Nice and easy to talk to and they gave me both the 10% off repair coupon and the oil change coupon, so I got her back for just under $500.

Plus the $200 down for insurance last week.

Plus this month's $314 payment.

Plus tomorrow's $29 state inspection.

Plus the $75 new battery.

Plus the $20 in gas tonight.

I don't want to know the total. The weather was nice today and we took a nice, long drive together, Goldie and me. Out to Natick and back on Route 9. I intended to visit the apartment complex we first knew, when I moved here and settled in Framingham in 2000, but we didn't need to deal with the Framingham traffic. So we came back and then drove through Brookline and Brighton, where Goldie got cleaned up and we got all the pollen and sticks and twigs off her.

That's another $5.

She better be damn happy and behave for a while.

2004-05-15T19:48:00.000-05:00

Toxic. As it turns out, it wasn't acidic water, or diluted acid or anything that splashed on me; it was acid.

I sat on the couch this afternoon and ate a wedge of watermelon. When I got up, I looked down at the splotch on my shirt from the battery juice and there was a nice clean rip right along it.

When I went to take off the shirt, I noticed a similar rip on my shorts along one of the orange spots. Those shorts lasted so many days during last summer's road trip. Now they've fallen victim to a tipped car battery.

I showered off in case any lingered on me, but what hit my foot in the store only itched, so I wasn't too worried.

I am, however, worried about Goldie sitting down at the garage all by her lonesome. And I'm tired. And it's hot.

2004-05-15T13:04:00.000-05:00

Hello walls, I've missed you. I don't know what to do with myself now that I finally have some time for me. I feel like no minute of the past week was my own, between the atmosphere at work, time on the phone, time responding to landlord and insurance agent emails, time spent getting up in the morning to let the plumber in (stove = fixed), running to the RMV w/ insurance paperwork to register Goldie (Goldie = registered), time out with co-workers, new and former on separate nights, getting home, cleaning up, etc etc.

This morning I got up and rode in a Zip Car to get a new battery for Goldie, which she needed anyway, so that I could drive her to a garage on it. When I went out at 8:00 yesterday morning to drive it in before work she wouldn't turn over. The battery got sucked too low. I installed the new battery, swapped her plates for MA ones, and drove her down to the garage, where they won't get to it today or maybe even tomorrow, deluged that they are with oil changes and detailing jobs. Poor Goldie. Poor me, sitting anxiously waiting for the verdict and how much it will cost.

And now I don't know what to do with myself. I was just about to dive into washing the half-full sink of dishes. I've been waiting all week til I got some time to myself on the weekend and now I'm too wound-up to just stop and pause. Even in this miserable humid heat.

And the battery sloshed some acidic water on me that marred my shorts and shirt.

2004-05-10T21:12:00.000-05:00

Life = nuts.

New Blogger = cool.

Mark = back.

New Blogger looks like it borrowed a little from its sister app: GMail (which really rocks). It's a slick, engaging interface that also looks like it borrowed some ideas from 37Signals' Basecamp.

Alas, I don't know that the slick interface is going to be sufficient to get me blogging with great gusto again. I'm too damn busy. My car's broke and needs an inspection, repairpeople have to be let into the apartment, and those things are the exceptions to all the rest of the insanity.

It's going to be a summer for the books.

As was the last. Hm. Some sort of precedent was set? Dunno.

On another New Blogger note: What's this profile crap? Pictures? Favorite Movies, Books, etc? Uhm, Memo to Google/Blogger: Buy FRIENDSTER. They can't seem to jump the hurdle to being a solid app, as cool as they potentially are. Show them how it's done (but do so by acquiring their community).

2004-04-29T20:53:00.000-05:00

9:50 PM. Haven't even thought about dinner yet.

Walked home from work at 6:30 because there was a Sox game. Walked past Hynes and Kenmore to St. Mary's I should say, then a quick run on the T down to Coolidge Corner and more walking to my corner. Grabbed some laundry to do, headed to the laundro, walked the detergent back here, then back out to put stuff in the dryer and on down to BRKL Village to the Fleet ATM. Door was locked; wouldn't open with card. Gave a woman not-from-here directions to one up the street, walked back to laundro. Checked dryer, turned away from machine, bumped into girl from former job, talked to her for a bit, got stuff from dryer, headed home. Called a girl, talked to her for a bit. Got off the phone, put away laundry, cleaned the bathroom.

Blogged.

I need food.

2004-04-28T22:41:00.000-05:00

I should be in bed. Really. I got too caught up in things here, though.

Today was a pretty good day. Got a semi-complete build on the QA server. I feel behind because there's still some shit to do. And something else I was supposed to have done that I emailed myself to take a look at tonight at home. But I didn't.

After racing all day to finish the build, I had a half-hour or so to just relax and chat with co-workers about the project and the new iTunes release and iPods, etc. Left shortly after 5:00. This has been a trend this week, although the past two days were more like 6:00 PM, because all the top brass is in Las Vegas for the annual conference. I've actually been pulled out the door early by one of my teammates and the team lead has been gone before us. "C'mon. We're leaving early. We'll tackle that in the morning."

Who am I to argue.

Pending Production build for Friday "evening," which means sometime in the late afternoon. THAT pisses me off. NOTHING should be scheduled for a Friday afternoon, even if Friday's date is the 30th and the client's contract starts the 1st.

Whatever.

The sky was clear and beautiful this afternoon, and still well-lit when I headed home. That was a good thing. And, as previously mentioned, iTunes released a feature-packed update today, which is a very good thing. But for all the great new features it didn't behave too well on my computer, so I just finished a slew of Windows updates that hopefully have chased away the demons that kept making my playlists look all glitchy.

I also came home to find an iTunes gift card in the mail from Mom, so I even had money to blow in the updated Music Store. I got the Butterfly Boucher album and some songs by Jem.

What else... what else... Who knows. That's about it.

2004-04-25T16:57:00.000-05:00

The collection of button-up, collared shirts I'm accumulating unnerves me. Even to wear with jeans. Signs of growing older.

Mom visited this weekend, which is always good. I always get to see more of Boston than typical when she's around.

She arrived Thursday and I arrived home from work miserable. I left promptly around 5:00 but I was tired and had barely recovered from my cold before being whacked in the head with tree pollen allergies early in the week. We ordered chinese and watched TV. At 9:00 we unloaded all the stuff I had left at their house (summer clothing, computer gear, books) from her car and moved that.

Friday, as you may know, was rainy, rainy, rainy. The cuffs of my pants were soaked when I arrived at work. I left Mom at home with the keys and she checked out Brookline Village and then Coolidge Corner in the afternoon once the rain stopped. Homemade cooking for dinner that night a la Mom, followed by an encore viewing of Kill Bill, Vol. 1 on DVD for her sake.

Saturday was the capstone, though. After breakfast with Mark at Lucy's in Brookline, Mom and I headed inbound on the T, destination: MFA. Instead of going all the way into Copley, on what was shaping up to be a beautiful day, we got off at St. Mary's, cut down Park Place past the Fenway stop on the D line, and then onward to the backside of the Museum.

We were a little over an hour early to get tickets for the next available entry for the Gaugain exhibit, so we had time to wander around. We thoroughly checked out the Chinese and Japanese exhibits, which were amazing: artifacts dating back to 13th and 14th century BC and the largest collection of Japanese Buddhist art outside of Japan. Then after a brief respite quickly we checked out Egypt, which featured actual mummies, and then Greek & Roman art, which featured many, many art students doing sketches.

Then ~~Gaugain~~ Gauguin.

Pretty fascinating. The exhibit told the whole story of his mission in life and his time in Tahiti through captions displayed and the actual output of his work. Quite interesting.

By the time we got out of that, though, and dealt with the mob scene in the gallery-specific shop, the stifling heat in the museum and walking and standing had my head throbbing. We left and hopped on the E line into Copley.

Once there, with the wind blowing and sun shining, we sat for a bit and then walked half of Newbury. I faced a mob scene in a Starbucks to get a frap and Mom checked out some shops while I sat on the sidewalk and checked out the girls.

Finally, 6:00-ish, we, after much waiting, caught the T at Copley and headed home.

More home cooking, more relaxing with the TV.

This morning I hopped up at 9:30 remembering that I wanted to tend to Goldie. We drove Mom's car up to Home Depot in Watertown where I got a multimeter and brought that back. Cold, the battery was a bit low at 11.95 or so volts (instead of 12.6). Running, the voltage was 14.33 - 14.37 on average, which is 14.4, which is good (alternator-wise). So that made me feel better. After checking that out, I peeked in the window and saw that the battery light hadn't even come on. The battery's 5 years old and has been subjected to nothing but supershort trips that never charge it for half the winter. It needs to be replaced soon, but isn't quite dead yet. Case closed.

Then we drove Goldie up to Target to stretch her legs. A typical useless trip to Target, although I did get some new drinking glasses since my set of tumblers has, after various incidents, dwindled to 3. This becomes annoyingly apparent when you have company for an extended period of time. I also bought Ghostbusters on DVD and a shirt in the Gap Outlet.

So, just after Mom left at 1:00, the weather turned grim again and I turned my efforts toward laundry. Now, Dear God!, it's 6:00 and the weekend's waning.

Friday I went into crisis mode at work again, similar to Saturday, but even more annoying. I didn't get to post something I finished Thursday morning to QA til after 3:30 and one thing after another wasn't right. Finally I got a working version figured out and put together and posted around 6:30. Then I headed home. Tired. Beat. Feeling like I had stepped from the tech equivalent of an ER.

And tomorrow morning I have to jump into straightening the mess out and getting it working.

2004-04-21T21:13:00.000-05:00

And, being an active Blogger blogger, I get to try out Gmail from Google. It's proving to be really, really cool. Message ordered by "conversation," or thread, it automatically detects new mail without reloading the page, has keyboard shortcuts, etc.

2004-04-21T21:09:00.000-05:00

My life is whizzing past me at a blurry pace, rattling my nerves and jangling my senses. Tomorrow's Thursday already. These madcap days fly by, indistinguishable from the last or the next.

Today was a bit exceptional. It was an insanely long day. I told one of my teammates today that my impression had changed these past two weeks from those of the first two. It's chaotic. It's nuts. Too many people are pushing too many things all at once. We were supposed to have two weeks to comfortably do this build and we ended up cramming so much in that QA was a nightmare and we were patching the QA build all day while QA was trying to bang on it. That's not cool. On top of that, we're already now a day or two behind on the next release to go live on the 30th.

See, we work on a bunch of new features, enhancements or bugs and they all go on the QA server to get checked. If one of those items really needs to go live for a client or as a patch, it can't be isolated. It's all or nothing. So we push to get the whole thing live and hope for the best.

And by 8:00 tonight we got it up to the production server. Let's see how many patches result now.

So I got home late. I intended to laundry and finish cleaning tonight as Mom is visiting for a few days, arriving tomorrow. Getting off the T after 8:00, starving, and needing to stop at a store for cleaning products, laundry got nixed. It wasn't crucial. The cleaning's now done, and I grabbed Boca for dinner, so I'm set for the night.

That's about all, I guess.

2004-04-18T20:32:00.000-05:00

This ironing shit. How is it that a split-second slip of the wrist can result in a crease that no amount of ironing, for no amount of time, will take out. How does it take me so much longer, with the iron on top heat, to complete the task than everyone else claims.

A pox on my week it is.

Today was good enough until the weekend ended this evening, though. Got up at 9:30 when I couldn't sleep any longer. Puttered around for a bit before heading out by 11:30 to meet Mark & Craig at the Trident Bookstore on Newbury for lunch. Lunch was good but it was hot as hell where I was sitting.

The afternoon started becoming cloudy and more humid as we left to walk down Newbury, Boylston, through the Public Garden and across the Common to Loew's. Mark & I followed the rest of The Bride's story in Kill Bill, Vol. 2. It was great. Totally met, if not exceeded, expectations. We walked back to Hynes to get on the T from there so I could pop into Virgin to buy the soundtrack. And to feed our "keys" that the pretty girl on the corner on the corner of Boylston and Exeter gave us earlier into the machine in NikeTown to see if we won. Mark did. I did not. He walked out with a "gym bag" of some sort.

As I said, though, Kill Bill, Vol. 2 was great. It was flawless in comparison to the first one, which had one nagging little blemish on what was otherwise a superb work: While sitting in the Pussy Wagon after getting out of the hospital, The Bride says something about having to "will [her] legs out of entropy." I replayed it. I checked the definition to be sure I was thinking correctly. I was. Entropy is a state of motion. Atrophy would've been right.

Anyway.

The car might well be fucked, in terms of battery vs. alternator. I won't know until I get my hands on a voltmeter to check it for myself. Which won't be in the next few days now that the weekend is over and I'm back in the work week.

Team lead's out tomorrow and I'm supposed to wrap up work and do a QA build.

2004-04-17T16:23:00.000-05:00

I don't recall life being this chaotic when I was last employed. What the hell happened. By the time Saturday rolls around, I've accumulated nothing but a list of shit to get done. I can't plan on catching up or getting ahead on anything during the week because I never know if I'm liable to get stuck at work late.

So, after sleeping til 10:30 this morning I was out the door by noon to head in one direction and get a haircut. Then a pit stop at the apartment before heading in another to go into the Landmark Center to Bed Bath & Beyond to return curtains and then Staples and Best Buy to see if I could scratch anything else off my list. I did. Some cans of air to clean my laptop.

By the time I returned home a trip to Target in Watertown was in order to finish up the list. I stopped into the apartment once again, then headed out to the car.

The battery light was on again when I started the car and remained lit. The little eye in the battery was now red. I let the car run and run, which it did fine, but the light inside never faded and went off like last time.

I called home to consult Dad.

He couldn't guarantee that I'd get where I needed to go to take care of it, but agreed that the alternator was probably fine and my battery was on its last legs. Understand that the conversation resulting in that simple explanation took much longer and consisted of many, many, many more words, acronyms, prices, places to go, things to ask, specifications, and miscellaneous dos and don'ts.

It was 3:00 PM. I hadn't ate all day. The warm day had turned into a hot and humid one and my temper was wearing thin.

I went inside and ate last night's leftover chinese and checked out the AutoZone web site to verify that 1) there was a location on Arsenal St. in Watertown, and 2) they'd test the battery and alternator before I went ahead and bought one.

By the time I got to Watertown the battery light had gone off. Makes sense. The alternator's fine, the battery's losing its charge when it sits for a week at a time, 20 minutes of driving had charged things back up.

I went into AutoZone and asked if I could get my battery and alternator checked out before buying a new one and was asked to wait 10 minutes or so til things settled down. Miscellaneous jackals were lined up at the counter, bickering over returns, prices and attempting to haggle with the poor, frenzied staff. Finally I was accompanied out to my car.

If I can say one thing about Mr. AutoZone, he definitely didn't attempt to do whatever he could to make a sale. Quite the contrary. Once I told him the battery light was on the case seemed closed: 9 times out of 10, according to him, that means the alternator's in trouble.

He went ahead and checked the battery, though, red eye and all, and showed me that the meter pegged it around 12, which is good, but not as good as 14, where it should be. So it was okay. It had to be the alternator. He was a polite, nice fellow and knowledgeable, but I don't think I was getting through to him. I explained again that the light was on when I started the car, then faded and went out as I drove it. That the battery's at its worst when the car *sits* for days at a time, not after driving it around and sucking the life out of it with accessories the alternator can't keep up with.

But his verdict was in.

Then I went to Target. As fucking useless as ever. The place where I bought my Swiffer WetJet had plenty of them, a variety of refill bottles of floor wash, but not a single replacement swiffer pad. They had nothing else on my list and I, after being confronted with the prospect of paying for a new alternator, was sickened by the thought of spending more money. I made it out of there with a bottle of LiveWire, milk, Target brand Dran-o, the Swiffer floor wash, and Kill Bill Vol. 1 on DVD. Which Best Buy at the Landmark seemed not to have. *shaking head*

It was an uneventful ride back and I was convinced that my conclusion was the accurate one. I remain convinced. My dad shares my conclusion, and was able to inundate me again with a plethora of information and data and tips about purchasing a battery. All I need is something cheap that will consistently start the car and last for the 2-3 years I'll continue to own it. But, anyway, we agreed that it's obviously crapping out after sitting for so long and doesn't get sufficient recharge through these short trips around the city. In all likelihood, the alternator's fine.

My head, however, is not so fine. I still feel like my weekend, or what's left of it, is just one big To Do list and this weekly laundering of work clothes, followed by the Sunday evening ironing session, really wears on me.

I should start working on this project too.

And my voice is almost non-existent, even worse than yesterday.

Perhaps I'll watch Kill Bill.

2004-04-16T07:05:00.000-05:00

From an email written by me yesterday (Thursday) AM: It goes without saying that gallivanting around Cambridge tomorrow night, boozing and at the very least getting excitable, probably isn't the best thing for my health: this thing will surely get worse before it gets better.

Ugh. I was right.

2004-04-15T19:10:00.000-05:00

I saw a reverse Holden Caulfield tonight. *She* was running for the bus *carrying* all the goddam fencing equipment.

Today is April 15th. Fortunately I checked the news on CNN.com at lunch time for had I not I would've completely forgotten that it was tax day. I filed my Federal taxes in January, via TurboTax, the instant I had all the requisite materials, purely out of desparation for my hefty return. The piddly State ones compelled no sense of urgency in me.

I actually printed out and filled out the form this past weekend, but I had to do a clean copy and get it in the mail. I did so when I got home and walked it up to Coolidge Corner where I deposited it in a mailbox that would be emptied and its contents postmarked by midnight.

Then I got Boca Grande.

Today was also a day for a Red Sox game. A night game. This makes my life hell. This causes me to spend 1 full hour getting home from work because the three C lines that passed (amidst all the B, D, and the useless E, that won't unload at Kenmore, lines) were crammed full to the doors. Oh how I wish there was some solution to Game Day T traffic. Aside from walking home, which I'll do when it's nicer out.

And Monday is Patriot's Day. For you non-Bostonites, Patriot's Day is a state holiday that serves as an excuse for many Boston employers to give staff the day off so they don't have to deal with Boston Marathon traffic. I don't have Patriot's Day off this year, even though my employer, located on Dartmouth Street 2 blocks from the Copley T Stop, which I use and which will be shut down, is right near the Finish Line.

In less than a week this cold has burrowed its way from my sinuses into my chest and taken root. I'm miserable. I feel fine overall, except being racked with the occassional coughing fit or waking up for 1 1/2 hours in the middle of the night coughing and unable to breathe through my nose.

But a secret weapon arrived today in the mail.

2004-04-14T19:09:00.000-05:00

I wish I had bought more Girl Scout Cookies.

2004-04-13T17:54:00.000-05:00

Work busy. Still sick. Torrential rain outside. New reply from Sandra. C'est la vie.

2004-04-12T17:54:00.000-05:00

I seem to have misplaced my knack for observing things Boston. I'll blame it on this miserable head cold that's still with me. I left work at 5:30. That was all they were getting out of me today. Not that I even felt productive at any point feeling like this.

I slept terribly last night too. I'll blame that on the sudafed-containing cold medicine. Sudafed always amps me up.

Saturday included Boca Grande for lunch and Coolidge Corner Clubhouse for dinner and a few beers. Those are Boston things.

Mrs. Grass's Soup is not, but it's what I'm having for dinner.

One thing I have noticed, again, not about Boston, is that the ads for The Punisher look like a cross between some dated movie that would air on the USA Network and an ABC Sunday Night Movie. Enough with the comic book exploitation already.

Still sick,
Mark

2004-04-11T11:37:00.000-05:00

Happy Easter. I'm sick. I need to do laundry. I'm listening to 1/2 The Ditty Bops' album. I could only get 6 of their songs with the iTunes Pepsi caps I have. There's one more in the fridge. Then, who knows what.

I need to do laundry or else I'm screwed next week.

I can't handle the thought of getting up and going to that job with this cold.

My Easter basket is a box of Girl Scout Cookies, though. Caramel Delites.

2004-04-10T11:00:00.000-05:00

I just remembered dreaming this morning that I was reprimanded at work for not staying late enough every day. Something else goofy happened too, though; I was out of the office without filling out the right paperwork.

2004-04-10T10:03:00.000-05:00

I have a cold. This would explain why I was so damn tired last night and did nothing but watch TV.

I found last night that cable company has been even more gracious in my case. FOX News and FOX Sports Channel are gone (good riddance!) and now I have MTV in my channel lineup.

And finally, I found decent chinese delivery. This has been a nagging problem for me. During my stay in Syracuse with friend Ben I had access to a cheap place right down the street that delivered food that tasted good and came in quantities large enough to eat leftovers the next day. I haven't found that trifecta (cheap, good, quantity) here yet. Until last night.

New Hong Kong, in Brighton, charged two dollars more than I was used to for my General Gau's (or Tsau's) chicken, but I got two appetizers (last night: egg roll and chicken fingers) instead of just one AND the portions were huge. Everything tasted good. There was a $2 service charge for delivery, but it arrived in under 30 minutes (none of that 45-minute bullshit) and the $10+ total got me a free can of soda. I'm pleased.

Woke up this morning to a baby crying across the way from my bedroom window, a stuffy head, and sore throat. And, of course, an agenda of things to get done.

And an eBay link from a woman my mom works with to an obscure HST book. I've already bid.

Selah.

2004-04-09T19:00:00.000-05:00

The cable company was very nice to me. I got my first bill today and received free installation for my cable modem hookup AND there's no sign of a charge for the basic cable that's coming in on the pipe.

I just can't stay at work as long as other people. And there's no way I'm getting in before 9:00 if that time isn't my time. Which it wouldn't be. I start working on stuff as soon as I get in. That's the best I can do, I guess.

I keep getting given vague things to fix/handle/update/review/check and find myself at a point where I think I'm done but then talk to someone else and find there's more to do. It's frustrating. And there's such a flurry of things around me to do that I have trouble getting down to the details of any single one. Somehow, though, I get a bunch done in the afternoon and then around 5:00 start thinking about leaving and waste the next hour or hour-and-a-half because it's too late to start something new.

That's my day.

There was talk of doing a QA build at 4:00 today, which I'd have to do, and who knows what would go wrong with all the stuff I've been updating. Fortunately it was decided that there wasn't enough yet to merit a build (really? there's gonna be a shitload to check when we finally do one) and that we should spend more time reviewing things in Dev first (really? I thought I was just about done reviewing this stuff -- oh NOW you say I should check this, that, and the other case too).

Beautiful out today, wasn't it? Three of us walked the length of the Copley/Prudential Mall outside and grabbed sandwiches inside the far end to bring back to the office. Two of us went in the kitchen to eat where I regaled my teammate with stories of last summer's road trip.

I had to have some excuse for not planning on having any plans made for this summer.

I just got off of a lengthy phone call with my parents. My dad's a bit concerned with the rigged wiring in this joint too. I was describing the oddball outlets in the kitchen and bedroom, which he became convinced were 220 Volt and warned against plugging anything into them. But, I told him, I did try the kitchen one and not only did nothing blow up, but nothing even ran, and I have a lamp and alarm clock plugged into the bedroom one and they work fine. 220 would make sense too. While they're not near the stove or fridge, or any appliance in the bedroom for that matter, they ARE near windows, perfect locations for AC.

But we ended up thinking it was more likely that some asshole just installed them for whatever reason.

He was also worried about the ampage of my fuses. Yes, I have real fuses; not breakers. And only four of them. And 2 appear to be 20 amps or so and 2 appear to be 30 amps. Apparently this is a slight cause for concern too.

Who knows. He promised to come check out the wiring at some point and perhaps run a molding strip to a new outlet closer to the fridge and stove. I told him that unless he could get the 14.4 or 12.2 or whatever (???) was better for the appliances to them, I was already accomplishing that with the bright orange outdoor-grade extension cord run along the kitchen wall.

Enjoy your weekend.

2004-04-08T18:42:00.000-05:00

I think my overclocked laptop's fan doesn't come on so frequently when I'm not playing songs in iTunes. Which is fine, because I'm buying an iPod soon. Once I do I'll move all my purchased songs and bootleg MP3s onto it, delete any songs off my computer that I have the CDs for, and start copying all my CDs to iPod. Then I'll just keep it plugged into USB or FireWire (does FireWire provide power?) to keep the batt'ries charged and plug some speakers or headphones into it.

How sweet it will be.

Because then I can bring music to work and jack in and drown out conversations around me that I don't need to overhear and get into a zone.

I'm coming into some money and as tempted as I am to just order the damn thing, from Apple, so I can get it engraved with my name AND URL, and pay for it when the money comes, I'm going to be good, on principle, and wait til I have the dough.

Any other stories....? I can't think of any. It's a long, slow day when I'm just left to work on stuff that I can't turn around quick. I liked those little, urgent tasks better. Now I'm just in the midst of fixing a ton of shit.

But tomorrow's Friday.

2004-04-07T18:22:00.000-05:00

Whole world's gone mad. Everywhere I look. People on the T with iPods. Apple stickers on the back of minivans walking home.

I want my share.

I'm feeling quite manic. In addition to my fast-paced new job this side project that I'm tech lead on got the go-ahead this weekend. Whew! Tonight I cut out of work right at 6:00 to enjoy the nice weather (and I was at the point where I'd be starting something entirely new). Then I wasted the extra time staring at a shelf (yeah, I know) in Stop and Shop. What happened to the little two-pack of Salt & Pepper shakers they typically carry?

2004-04-06T20:10:00.000-05:00

Mystery solved. My but these condo homeowners are kings and queens of the cob job. I got up this morning and tried to turn on the TV to the same outcome as yesterday: Nothing. I played with the power strip, played with the power button; no results. Remembering that yesterday I turned the lamp on via its light switch in the hall, I tried that.

The DVD light came on.

Turns out that that entire side of my living room is on the light switch. I tried both jacks in the outlet too. Up until this past weekend my TV had been on the opposite side of the room, so if I turned it on in the morning, sans lamp, it was fine. Throughout the weekend any time I watched it I had on the lamp, so the switch was on.

How charming.

My apartment is not a shithole. It's not like my friend Ben's ragtag Jeep Comanche that's falling apart. It's more like his '83 Jeep Scrambler. Classic. Nice shiney paint. Character. Yet there are those few rust bubbles poking through. The muffler's starting to wear a little tiny bit. The wiring's not quite right so you can never tell how much gas you have. And sometimes the softtop roof leaks rain on your kitchen floor.

Yeah, it's like that.

It's in a great location in the neighborhood I've come to know well, halfway between Coolidge Corner and Brookline Village. It includes a rented parking spot in the back for what is, in this neighborhood, great rent. I'm renting from its owner in a condo building where most residents own their places. I've got tall ceilings, a separate living room that's just for couch sitting and TV watching, a hall that opens up sufficiently to provide me an office nook (where I'm sitting now), a huge bedroom, and an enormous kitchen.

I'm quite happy with it.

I'm tired as hell. Last night's time change high caught up with me. I really didn't want to get up this morning and the day dragged in many ways. I did a production build tonight with someone over my shoulder and patched up snags in the build here and there before that. Soon it will be my sole responsibility to do builds. Give the new guy the late in the day after QA gets their shit done tasks...

Poking around the company intranet today, I noticed the vast number of software colleagues who have not just Bachelors in Computer Science or Physics or Engineering, but Masters as well. If they don't have MBAs. How the hell did I fit into the mix with my BS in Telecom Mgmt and minor in CS. I guess I'll take it as a compliment that I can pull off the job without the extensive education.

Had dinner with Jim tonight, my first meal at the Parish Cafe in some time. Mmm.. Regal Regis and Corona.

I am tired.

2004-04-05T19:46:00.000-05:00

I'm wired. The time change has gotten to me. It's not the caffeine; all I had today was a shitty 1/2 cup of coffee and one Pepsi, from which I scored another iTunes win.

It's gotta be this extra daylight that I started waking to between six and seven and got to walk home in. I was at work 9 hours today! I worked the whole time, too, but the day feels so short in retrospect. Surely I have more stuff to be done. It's already 8:30!

I didn't get to work until after 9:00 this morning, though. Why? The Post Office.

The USPS is irrelevant. They've shot themselves in the foot time and time again and it's no wonder they bitch and whine about losing business to the likes of FedEX, UPS, and, my personal fave, the Internet. So rare it is when I need to interact with the USPS, I can't even tell you the price of a postage stamp in a given year. All my bills are paid online except the rent check.

But this morning I had a few small packages to send. Pleased I was last night to visit USPS.com and see that my local branch had hours starting at 7:30 AM. I left five minutes early, walked past my T stop to the PO and went inside to find a line 10 people long and one poor, angry woman working the counter.

Now, it seems to me that if you're offering 7:30-9:00 AM, morning commute, hours you'd realize you were doing so for people who are on their way to work and have no means whatsoever of making it to the PO during their workday. People in a hurry. A lot of people in this city of ours.

But that would make too much sense. So, after losing 20 minutes of my morning, I shook my head and stormed out, got on the T, and, arriving at Copley at 9:05, strolled into the Back Bay PO and conducted my business in a more expeditious manner.

Little caffeine I've had today, but like a junkie returning to his dealer when he first gets back in town I hit up Souper Salad today for a Tuna Walkabout. I pretty much blew the amount of time I usually allocate for lunch just walking there from my office near Back Bay station (where I bumped into J.J.!), but it was worth it. I'm still convinced they put crack in the Walkabout dressing.

And my role at work is clearly emerging. We'll be offloading Christian's responsibilities to Mark, with Christian available as resource while he switches to Product Y. (We'll call my baby Product X.) Mark will be the Go To man for the Product X stuff Christian worked on. Mark will maintain responsibility of the XXXXXXXXX functionality, not just for Product X but for all common applications too. The build machine can go next to Mark's desk since he'll be responsible for the builds.

Oh joy.

2004-04-05T07:06:00.000-05:00

The weather obviously sucked this morning so I wanted to check the morning news to see what I'd be facing when I stepped outside. I wandered into the living room, grabbed the remote, and hit Power. Nothing. Again I pressed the button. Again. Again. Again. Nothing. I walked over and pressed the button on the TV. Nothing. I flipped the switch that controls the other living room outlet; the lamp came on fine.

I walked back to the TV and flipped the power strip off and back on and tapped the reset button, which hadn't popped out, for good measure. Tried the TV again. Nothing.

Did I just lose a whole outlet? Everything else was working. No clocks were blinking in the kitchen, so there was no power outage and that nightmarish power drain on the one, single source seemed to be intact.

About to give up entirely and leave the mystery to be tackled when I arrive home tonight I gave the TV one final glance and saw the glow of the DVD player's Ready light. I pressed Power on the TV remote and it came on. All was right in the world again.

But what happened in the first place?

2004-04-04T17:00:00.000-05:00

I am a swirling vortex of productivity these days, though not as productive as my friend Ben who's now moonlighting as a DJ in a bar outside of Syracuse, NY. This is in addition to the car salesman gig that he arrives for by 9:00 each day and often stays at til 8:00 at night. Ben always was more productive. Never one to just loaf around and take a day off, his myriad array of Post-It notes makes it hard to see his desk for the tasks outlined upon it.

Me on the other hand, I like my time free and flexible outside of work and when I have it it's often wasted sitting at the computer. Not lately, though. Perhaps it's the Active Lifestyle multivitamins I've begun taking. Perhaps it's sheer determination to not live surrounded by the squalor that occupied my new apartment. Perhaps it's the fast-paced nature of my new job and the associated constant busy-ness. Something's kept me wound up and although I have slept in this weekend's mornings, once up I've been checking off To Do's like no other.

Typically each day I arise or arrive home with one room in the apartment to clean. Theories as to why it was so dirty abound: a former elderly resident who couldn't see, smell, or feel dirt and dust died, my landlord bought the unit and moved her son in who never cleaned, and finally rented it to me. Or - there was a fire in the unit below, which explains the replaced portion of kitchen floor and middle-of-the-apartment sag, and smoke damage wrought black grime all over the shelves which I've had to clean off since they never seemed to use them. Or - people were just lazy and never cleaned and didn't realize that typically before moving in a tenant one does a thorough job of that.

In any case, much cleaning has taken place over these past few weeks and I'm finally feeling on top of the situation. Likewise, not everything was unpacked and put away until necessary surfaces had been made clean, so I'm also finally feeling really settled.

Having basically lived out of my car for the past half-year, I've also found myself in quite short supply of many household items and, of course, some needed to be purchased specifically for this apartment. Once acquired, those needed to be mounted / hung / installed / or utilized.

There's also all the regular stuff that has to get done. Like laundry down the street so that I have clean clothes for work and the weekly ritualistic ironing of all those shirts and khakis. And making of those lunches I should really start bringing... Yeah, it sucks.

And finally, having a salary once again comes with its own duties. All that money has to be distributed and delegated to pay for various services and debts, payments need to be set up, deductions calculated, etc etc.

It's all a lot of catching up and that includes catching up on correspondence to inform people of this new chapter and how things have progressed. Now that I'm getting all caught up, though, and back in the swing of things after a scant two weeks, I need to find some stuff to do. I need to stay atop the crest of this energy wave. I need a life.

2004-04-03T18:10:00.000-05:00

Reading Hunter S. Thompson's "The Proud Highway: Fear & Loathing Letters, Vol. 1" fills me with desire to fire correspondence off at an unyielding pace to anyone who crosses my path.

To my upstairs neighbor: "Dear Neighbor, I cannot help but wonder, and subsequently am compelled to inquire, what exactly it is you do up there when you are obviously being quite so ambitious and mobile. Is this some sort of little-known aerobics routine? Are you obsessive-compulsive and unable to relax at home until you've paced back and forth some number of times? (If this is the case, one of these days I'm sure I'll get around to figuring out the exact number.) The only other possibility that comes to mind right now is that you're in a perpetual state of hopeless drunkenness, struck with sudden inspiration to traverse the apartment to take care of something and then forgetting what it was you set out to do and heading back for another hit on the bottle. If this is the case, please, PLEASE, I implore you, invite me up to join in the merriment.

Hoping the latter is true and that you stock large quantities of Jack Daniels,
Mark, Unit #3"

More to follow as the mood strikes.

2004-04-02T18:26:00.000-05:00

I've really got to stop going to the Target in Watertown. Not once have I headed there with a list of items, or single item, in mind and actually found it on their shelf. Yet I still manage to leave with a cartload of stuff.

Of course this afternoon's fun was compounded by Friday end-of-day traffic and Target staffing every mentally handicapped employee, God bless them, on the same shift. It really wasn't all that bad until I got to the register and Scott started flinging my items onto the post-belt counter with reckless abandon and, just as I predicted, tossed a spray bottle of Tilex (with all those lovely warnings about using the toxic product in a well-ventilated area) right into the same bag as my mouthwash.

And then this little six-outlet thingie I found that looked so great for my kitchen came down the belt. I know I've yet to tell you about my kitchen, but I'll divulge this for now: it only has one working outlet. I've got an extension cord snaked around the wall to run the igniter for the gas stove and the fridge and the toaster oven, and everything else (the microwave, the can opener, the blender, etc) sits near the actual source. This six-outlet thingie would've greatly expanded my ability to risk burning down the building, or at least blowing a fuse, and conveniently plugged into both existing jacks once you removed the wall plate.

But back to Scott. Scott tried to swipe this product and it didn't register. Scott had a minor apoplexy. He immediately flipped on the flashing light above him and summoned help. "It doesn't scan at all. It doesn't scan. And I can't enter it in." As I stood by impatiently, rolling my eyes, the other guy told Scott it was a new item that wasn't yet in the system. "Oh no," Scott said, "we've had this for a mon-- months, it's been on the shelf for months."

I'm sure Scott knows the inventory that well.

They then summoned someone else. I told Scott to just take it off the order, that I could do without it. "Okay," Scott said, "but I'm still gonna ask George about this one." When George called him back he explained that "he doesn't want it, but it's not in the system and it doesn't scan. It doesn't scan."

Scott started tinkering with buttons at this point and I watched as every item that had been scanned flashed through in succession on the little screen. He told me I had to put my debit card back in the reader. I didn't want to. Would I be charged for every item twice? Would Scott do that to me?

The screen came up to enter my PIN. "See," Scott said, "you didn't get that far before." No, you're right, Scott, I didn't.

I made it out alive, checking account intact, still needing to go across the street to Home Depot to buy a file to fix my bedroom doorjam.

Having the day off today while they move all the office's belongings to the new location, I ended up staying in bed til almost noon. Numerous times I half-awoke and felt semi-guilty about not getting up; I had a list of things to get done today and even went to bed early last night. Once I finally did wake up, though, I thought about how the past two weeks have been the first time in so many months that I've had my own space again. That I've been able to retire and to rise on my own whim. I owed it to myself to sleep in.

Perhaps this newly regained sense of space is why I'm not overly driven to make plans for the evening or thrust myself onto the dating scene at the moment. That and the freezing, rainy weather perhaps.

2004-03-31T20:35:00.000-05:00

Happiness is a new email from Sandra, my Yellowstone love from France.

I know you don't know all about work yet, but today I'm just telling you only about today. It was a long day and I'm waiting for a glass and some mixer to chill because I want a margarita but don't have any ice.

A "build" was scheduled for today. A build is basically just deploying the latest solid batch of code to the QA environment and then when it all checks out a build is done to Production: the live environment. Today's build was to include a number of features that had been placed on my plate. Some I'd been working on all week, some I just started this morning. All were done and done well, meeting great praise from those who were anticipating them.

Doing so, though, meant coding intensely straight from 9:00 AM to 6:30 PM or so, which is when we switched to doing the build and moving it to the server, at which point we, of course, ran into a conflict that had to be resolved. So aside from the half-hour I took to head down to the food court in the mall and eat a hurried lunch, I was coding for 9 straight hours. I used to maybe be at work for 9 hours and would be lucky to spend 5 or 6 of that coding.

And today wasn't an exception. I've been there from 9:00 til 6:30 or so, typically working without much pause, every day so far.

So it's a bit fast-paced. And intense.

And I think my margarita's ready.

I have these. I unpacked them from a random kitchen box. They're over 1 year old.

2004-03-30T21:38:00.000-05:00

The run-down on my new digs will have to wait; there are more pressing matters at hand.

I need your help.

It becomes more obvious to me with each day I spend at my new job that I need music to maintain my sanity. The remedy is not easily sought, however, because, while I feel that it is acceptable to don a pair of headphones in the course of a day spent staring at the screen, I don't know how permissible it is to interact with one's computer in such a manner. I.e., I'm not copying vast quantities of song files to my computer to listen to nor am I inclined to bring in a stack of CDs to swap throughout the day. I need something small and discreet I can jack into for long periods of time. I need it so bad, in fact, that often when I finish a quick conversation with a teammate at my desk, I find myself turning back and reaching for a phantom pair of headphones.

At home I've totally succumbed to the might of iTunes. I've moved all my MP3s in, purchased [too many] songs from the Music Store and expanded my collection even further with the Pepsi caps promotion.

You can see where this is going, friends: I need an iPod.

Alas, I've survived the past 7 months or so with the aid of credit cards and I'm much too far in the hole now to be able to remotely justify a $300 purchase, no matter how beneficial it will be to my ability to accept my new lot in life. So, with no other recourse and out of sheer desparation I present:

Please help in any way you can. Your generosity will make a difference.

Today at work I found out how the whole weekend is going to play out after nervously overhearing people discuss having to come in this weekend. Thursday, a working day, I actually GET TO WEAR JEANS because we're likely going to be involved in further packing up office materials. Friday is a full day off while the moving people move all our stuff from the current office to the new office, the new office where I'll actually have my own desk, in a cube though it might be, rather than hanging off the end of my boss's. Saturday they set up everyone's computers and Sunday I'm expected, along with the rest of the software dev department, to make a showing, which doesn't have to be til the afternoon, for unpacking time. The goal, of course, is to have everyone able to "hit the ground running Monday morning." All things considered, it's not a bad deal. I basically get a 2 ½ day weekend AND, finally, my own desk.

An iPod would still sure help, though.

2004-03-29T20:38:00.000-05:00

Ah, city life and the daily drudgery of it all. I'd forgotten so many of those little subtleties of day-to-day life going to and from work and trying to get shit done.

Mornings have been pretty good to me so far. After rolling out of bed at 7:05 I leave the apartment at 8:15, catch the T @ Coolidge Corner pretty quickly and am off at Copley, through the mall and into my office in the Prudential end by 9:00. I could probably get up even later if not for the fact that for my new oh-so-professional job I actually shave every morning.

Getting home at night has been a different story, though. It's gone beyond the a-watched-pot-never-boils / a-waited-for-T-never-comes axiom. The C never comes at night. The B comes 3 or 4 times. The D comes 2 or 3 times. Even the E comes 3 times. THEN the C meanders in, packed to the gills. Technically, yes, I'm as close to Brookline Village as I am to Coolidge Corner and I could easily hop on the D, but then it gets all crowded at Longwood and I much more appreciate walking home via CC at night. Especially considering all the new pretty faces I've been encountering.

Two things have spoiled me in recent months when it comes to grocery shopping. One was the convenience and SHEER PLEASURE of shopping at Wegmans again while staying with a friend in Syracuse. The other was becoming reacquainted with the Brookline Stop and Shop during daylight hours back when I was here but yet unemployed. I had forgotten the trials and tribulations of Stopping to Shop in the evening: the people who just stop amidst the narrow aisles and stare or, worse, carry on conversations with each other completely oblivious to anyone in their presence attempting to accomplish anything; the staff who barely acknowledge your presence unless it's to scowl and glare at you if you stepped in the middle of one of their shouted conversations with one of their cohorts, swearing and gesturing and behaving completely unprofessional.

And then there's the self-checkout line.

To me the self-checkout line is the epitome of efficiency. I hop in that fucker with my Stop and Shop card drawn. I scan it and before the voice has finished thanking me items are flying down the belt. I swipe my debit card through the reader while it's still figuring out what the last item I scanned was and then it's back to the touchscreen to Finish & Pay.

Tonight I went ahead and pulled into the non-Express self-checkout even with the cartload of groceries I had. There was only one guy in it and no lines forming. After 5 seconds of watching him I nearly lost it. He had already received intervention from one of the clerks and it was now time to Finish & Pay. Oh boy. He started moving in 3 directions at once really fast, which was shocking considering his girth. He might have swiped his credit card, but then blew a fuse or something. I really couldn't decide whether he was hopelessly ignorant or trying to pull a fast one. He grabbed a $25 gift card off a rack and tried to run it through the credit card reader. When that failed and the machine began barking corrective orders at him, he tried to scan it. He had a few more of the cards in his hands to make numerous attempts. Finally a clerk noticed he was having trouble (but not that he was attempting to pay with gift cards he hadn't bought) and yelled at him that he had to choose his card type at which point he actually chose Credit Card, reswiped his, and then signed the thingie.

All for $12 worth of groceries.

*Some* hesitation or apprehension is understandable if you're unfamiliar with the self-checkout. This incident, however, follows one from a week ago in which the elderly woman in front of me yelled to the clerk who assisted the shopper in front of her that she "better stick around because I'm not good with these things!" WHY WOULD YOU GET IN THE LINE!? When her turn came up, I swear to you, she made not a single attempt to use the scanner or any other point of interaction until she found the big shiney HELP button on the touchscreen and pressed that to summon a clerk.

More MBTA... Why were there no signs advising me that I indeed COULD purchase a Subway pass for April at Back Bay Station? Every single sign that did exist only said "Commuter Rail Tickets" or "Amtrak Tickets." I'll be damned if I was going to step in line and wait 20 minutes to be told that I was an idiot for assuming Subway passes were sold when the signs didn't say so, contradictory to what I just read on the MBTA site.

Enough for now, and please, don't think life is one big bitchfest. When I take the time to talk up my new apartment, its review will be fairly glowing, although decidedly interesting. And the job: it's fine.