R's daughter's elementary school is on break this week, and since Mrs. R works for the postal service, she can't look after her, so R's brought her to work the past few days. She's hilarious, and really very helpful. She likes to see inside of the computers, so we all let her have a look when we're installing new hardware. G even let her install updates on someone's PC, which she found absolutely awesome.
Surprisingly she's very well behaved. She will watch us work for a while, and if she gets bored she'll go watch her Danny Phantom DVDs in the break-room. G was apprehensive about the whole situation at first, because kids can be rather unruly, but this one is very well-behaved, even if she did eat all my salsa. Even that was rather impressive- I eat only the spiciest salsa there is, and none of my coworkers can handle it, but R's daughter ate it like it was made of chocolate. Now I have to go buy more, since someone else will eat it now!
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Friday, March 26, 2010
Carpe Noctem: Seize the Night
For some reason, I always function better at night than I do during the day. I am extremely sensitive to sunlight, and I can't see well in the sunlight, and years of hunching over a computer in the dark further conditioned me to be acclimated to the night rather than the day. And days I don't go to work I go to bed around 6:00 AM and wake up around 6:00 PM. It used to drive my dad insane- he used to ask me, "What are you, Zetsubou, an owl?" And then he'd proceed to tell me that normal girls didn't sleep all day and stay up all night working on computers.
Another thing: when I'm awake in the day, I get hungry. When I'm awake at night, I don't. It's a great source of amusement for my coworkers when I come back from break having bought half of the Starbucks. But then when we have employee parties at night, I never eat anything.
For some reason, night lends a strange power to my ability to code. When I'm working on programs, I work at night, and things get done about a million times faster and more accurately than when I work during the day. Actually, I think it creeps some people out- is Zetsubou a vampire? A werewolf? Baba Yaga? (Actually, I used to be told the Baba Yaga story on a regular basis- it was how my great-grandmother kept me in line). But that's a story for another time. Maybe one day I'll do a post on the stories I was told as as child.
Anyway, my point in making this post is- try to seize the night yourself one day. See what you can get done, and how much nicer it is to think in the dark rather than than in the bright, harsh sunlight.
Another thing: when I'm awake in the day, I get hungry. When I'm awake at night, I don't. It's a great source of amusement for my coworkers when I come back from break having bought half of the Starbucks. But then when we have employee parties at night, I never eat anything.
For some reason, night lends a strange power to my ability to code. When I'm working on programs, I work at night, and things get done about a million times faster and more accurately than when I work during the day. Actually, I think it creeps some people out- is Zetsubou a vampire? A werewolf? Baba Yaga? (Actually, I used to be told the Baba Yaga story on a regular basis- it was how my great-grandmother kept me in line). But that's a story for another time. Maybe one day I'll do a post on the stories I was told as as child.
Anyway, my point in making this post is- try to seize the night yourself one day. See what you can get done, and how much nicer it is to think in the dark rather than than in the bright, harsh sunlight.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Joe Biden's Gaffe
Warning: This post has strong language.
By now, everyone's heard of Joe Biden's response to the health care bill, calling it "a big fucking deal." And of course, every uptight moralist in the country is screaming their little heads off. All I have to say is, really? Were you lot raised by nuns? Or your Aunt Gertrude? Maybe it's a result of my upbringing (growing up the way I did, I had (and still have) a pretty foul mouth), but I just don't see the big deal. The F-bomb is just a word. Words only have power when we give it to them. I can go up to you and call you a "dingdong glibbleglooble" and you'll just think I'm mentally ill and off my medication. But if I walk up to you and call you a "fucking asshole douchebag" you're likely to either get upset, start crying, or kick my ass. But what's the real difference? The intent is the same, it's just that the second phrase has more loaded words than the first one, which is word salad. But what if the tables were reversed and "dingdong glibbleglooble" was as offensive as the F-bomb? It wouldn't just be word salad then, and an accident of nature could have made that phrase the equivalent of calling someone a fucking asshole, and calling someone a fucking asshole the equivalent of calling someone "dingdong glibbleglooble." (Ha, I love typing that... I'm too easily amused)
I'm not a Democrat or a Republican. I'm not even really defending Joe Biden. But before people get all angry and go on a moral crusade against bad language, stop and put it in perspective. Did the sun crash into the earth because the Vice President referred to something he felt strongly about as a "big fucking deal?" No. I'm still alive, and if the sun crashed into the earth I have a feeling I'd be pretty toasty.
And for your viewing pleasure, I'm including the video so you can hear it for yourself.
By now, everyone's heard of Joe Biden's response to the health care bill, calling it "a big fucking deal." And of course, every uptight moralist in the country is screaming their little heads off. All I have to say is, really? Were you lot raised by nuns? Or your Aunt Gertrude? Maybe it's a result of my upbringing (growing up the way I did, I had (and still have) a pretty foul mouth), but I just don't see the big deal. The F-bomb is just a word. Words only have power when we give it to them. I can go up to you and call you a "dingdong glibbleglooble" and you'll just think I'm mentally ill and off my medication. But if I walk up to you and call you a "fucking asshole douchebag" you're likely to either get upset, start crying, or kick my ass. But what's the real difference? The intent is the same, it's just that the second phrase has more loaded words than the first one, which is word salad. But what if the tables were reversed and "dingdong glibbleglooble" was as offensive as the F-bomb? It wouldn't just be word salad then, and an accident of nature could have made that phrase the equivalent of calling someone a fucking asshole, and calling someone a fucking asshole the equivalent of calling someone "dingdong glibbleglooble." (Ha, I love typing that... I'm too easily amused)
I'm not a Democrat or a Republican. I'm not even really defending Joe Biden. But before people get all angry and go on a moral crusade against bad language, stop and put it in perspective. Did the sun crash into the earth because the Vice President referred to something he felt strongly about as a "big fucking deal?" No. I'm still alive, and if the sun crashed into the earth I have a feeling I'd be pretty toasty.
And for your viewing pleasure, I'm including the video so you can hear it for yourself.
Monday, March 8, 2010
Angry Customer #2423121
Today was a strange day all around. From 12:30 to 1:15 PM, we close the store down so that we can all get something to eat. Usually we just put the sign on the door that says "Sorry, we're closed! Come back at 1:15!" and that's that. Since someone is always in the shop, we rarely lock the door down.
During that 45-minute period, we like to goof off. Today, G brought in his iPod and set it up on one of the docks. We were having a bit of fun in the back room, dancing around to a silly Japanese song that literally is about an egg omelet. It's all in good fun, just something to pass some time when we're done snarfing our takeout.
Well, today, that wasn't gonna fly. All of a sudden, someone starts dinging the bell quite obnoxiously. R went out to tell the customer that we were closed right now, but if it was emergency we'd be happy to help. The woman just snarled at him that she was going to tell the boss about our lack of professionalism. Well, lady, first off, the boss knows what we do. He doesn't give a flying foot what we do during our lunch breaks. You can feel free to complain to him, but he's not going to do anything. Second, you shouldn't have been in the store in the first place. Maybe you can't read English with your teeny little brain, but the sign clearly said that we were closed. Partially the fault lies with us for not bothering to lock the door, but still, the sign was perfectly clear: tech support is closed. Come back later.
So G and I were just lurking in the back listen to that woman complain. Yes, because having a short break is absolutely horrible. *rolls eyes*
During that 45-minute period, we like to goof off. Today, G brought in his iPod and set it up on one of the docks. We were having a bit of fun in the back room, dancing around to a silly Japanese song that literally is about an egg omelet. It's all in good fun, just something to pass some time when we're done snarfing our takeout.
Well, today, that wasn't gonna fly. All of a sudden, someone starts dinging the bell quite obnoxiously. R went out to tell the customer that we were closed right now, but if it was emergency we'd be happy to help. The woman just snarled at him that she was going to tell the boss about our lack of professionalism. Well, lady, first off, the boss knows what we do. He doesn't give a flying foot what we do during our lunch breaks. You can feel free to complain to him, but he's not going to do anything. Second, you shouldn't have been in the store in the first place. Maybe you can't read English with your teeny little brain, but the sign clearly said that we were closed. Partially the fault lies with us for not bothering to lock the door, but still, the sign was perfectly clear: tech support is closed. Come back later.
So G and I were just lurking in the back listen to that woman complain. Yes, because having a short break is absolutely horrible. *rolls eyes*
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Growing Up Motherless
Many people will go through a time in their life where nothing seems like it's going right for them. This can be triggered through a variety of reasons, but the most common are due to other people.
I was thinking about this today, mainly because I have struggled with this in the past myself. I'm not going to go into details here about my life, but I grew up without a mother, she committed suicide when I was two. I was never more aware of this than when I was in high school. All around me, people would either love their mom and think they were great, or they would think that their mom was this horrible evil ogress who wanted to see them suffer.
Me? I never got to feel that. I had my dad and my great-grandmother, but it wasn't the same. My dad worked all the time, and my great-grandmother was a bitter, angry old woman who didn't speak much English. Don't get me wrong, I love my father and I loved my great-grandmother. She taught me everything I know and understand about the world and the people who inhabit it. If it hadn't been for her lessons, I don't know how I would have survived. Thanks to her, while other girls my age were getting involved in romantic relationships and ruining their lives, or focusing more on finding love than making money, I was working two jobs and going to school. It might have seemed depressing at the time, but now I see that it was the best thing I could have done. I don't have baggage from previous relationships. I didn't end up pregnant at age 17. And I developed my work ethic, which serves me well today. Thanks to my father, I learned how to program and build computers, which has severed me incredibly well.
Because of those two important people in my life, I'm a productive member of the global workforce. But I never had a mom. I remember when I reached the point of physical maturity for the first time. Aunt Flo showed up for a visit, and no one had told me anything about it. I panicked and thought I was dying, so I ran to the school nurse and told her to call my family and ask them to call the funeral home and make arrangements for my death. Of course, the school nurse wanted to know why I was so convinced that my time on the mortal coil was drawing to a close (most twelve-year-olds don't suddenly die randomly with no apparent cause), so I told her I was bleeding. When she realized what was going on, she asked me, "Didn't your mother tell you?" Well, no, I didn't have a mother, and I really wanted to know what the flying foot was going on. So she explained it to me and made me call home to tell whoever was there what had happened.
So I had to call my great-grandmother and try to explain to her what had happened. Of course, an hour or so later, I get called down to the office because there was an extremely excitable elderly lady yelling at the office staff in broken English. Yep. It was my great-grandmother. So that day I got pulled out of school early, taken to a really fancy restaurant at 1:45 in the afternoon, and given THE TALK.
Everyone knows what THE TALK is. Usually, it's that awkward time where the parent of the same gender as you stumbles through the facts of how we get more humans. But no, I didn't have a mom, so I got the whole "Romantic relationships are evil and will ruin your future chances of having any kind of life. Don't make the same mistake I did, Zetsubou! Do not get married! Save yourself while you have the chance! Oh, and only have sex if you want a child." Yeah. So while most people got the whole discussion about when is the right time, and how babies get here, I got a rant about the evils of signing over control of your life to some guy who's main goal in life is to make you miserable.
I'm sorry to say that most of my teenage years, I believed that. I still do, to some degree. But while other girls were thinking about their boyfriends and how to make them happy, I was locked up in the computer lab or my apartment, thinking about ways to get the most money possible. While other girls were looking at fashion magazines, I was looking at stock market trends.
I'm not saying all of this to complain about my upbringing. Overall, I'm very pleased with the way I turned out and wouldn't trade most of the things I learned for all the tea in China. But sometimes, I wonder if I might have been served better if my mother hadn't taken her life.
I was thinking about this today, mainly because I have struggled with this in the past myself. I'm not going to go into details here about my life, but I grew up without a mother, she committed suicide when I was two. I was never more aware of this than when I was in high school. All around me, people would either love their mom and think they were great, or they would think that their mom was this horrible evil ogress who wanted to see them suffer.
Me? I never got to feel that. I had my dad and my great-grandmother, but it wasn't the same. My dad worked all the time, and my great-grandmother was a bitter, angry old woman who didn't speak much English. Don't get me wrong, I love my father and I loved my great-grandmother. She taught me everything I know and understand about the world and the people who inhabit it. If it hadn't been for her lessons, I don't know how I would have survived. Thanks to her, while other girls my age were getting involved in romantic relationships and ruining their lives, or focusing more on finding love than making money, I was working two jobs and going to school. It might have seemed depressing at the time, but now I see that it was the best thing I could have done. I don't have baggage from previous relationships. I didn't end up pregnant at age 17. And I developed my work ethic, which serves me well today. Thanks to my father, I learned how to program and build computers, which has severed me incredibly well.
Because of those two important people in my life, I'm a productive member of the global workforce. But I never had a mom. I remember when I reached the point of physical maturity for the first time. Aunt Flo showed up for a visit, and no one had told me anything about it. I panicked and thought I was dying, so I ran to the school nurse and told her to call my family and ask them to call the funeral home and make arrangements for my death. Of course, the school nurse wanted to know why I was so convinced that my time on the mortal coil was drawing to a close (most twelve-year-olds don't suddenly die randomly with no apparent cause), so I told her I was bleeding. When she realized what was going on, she asked me, "Didn't your mother tell you?" Well, no, I didn't have a mother, and I really wanted to know what the flying foot was going on. So she explained it to me and made me call home to tell whoever was there what had happened.
So I had to call my great-grandmother and try to explain to her what had happened. Of course, an hour or so later, I get called down to the office because there was an extremely excitable elderly lady yelling at the office staff in broken English. Yep. It was my great-grandmother. So that day I got pulled out of school early, taken to a really fancy restaurant at 1:45 in the afternoon, and given THE TALK.
Everyone knows what THE TALK is. Usually, it's that awkward time where the parent of the same gender as you stumbles through the facts of how we get more humans. But no, I didn't have a mom, so I got the whole "Romantic relationships are evil and will ruin your future chances of having any kind of life. Don't make the same mistake I did, Zetsubou! Do not get married! Save yourself while you have the chance! Oh, and only have sex if you want a child." Yeah. So while most people got the whole discussion about when is the right time, and how babies get here, I got a rant about the evils of signing over control of your life to some guy who's main goal in life is to make you miserable.
I'm sorry to say that most of my teenage years, I believed that. I still do, to some degree. But while other girls were thinking about their boyfriends and how to make them happy, I was locked up in the computer lab or my apartment, thinking about ways to get the most money possible. While other girls were looking at fashion magazines, I was looking at stock market trends.
I'm not saying all of this to complain about my upbringing. Overall, I'm very pleased with the way I turned out and wouldn't trade most of the things I learned for all the tea in China. But sometimes, I wonder if I might have been served better if my mother hadn't taken her life.
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