March 31, 2004

On Change. Last night I met up with Jason for some drinks in the city. We've been following a sort of haphazard schedule with each other for the past six months or so—between work, play, and life, we don't see each other as much as we used to. I've known him for about five years, and he's grown to be a good friend of mine. When my previous relationship ended, he listened to my boring tales of woe. He's been my answer guy for software questions (any meeting we have involves at least a half hour of Mac geekery), house tools that I might not have (thanks for the drain snake, my brother), and he posesses a wicked sense of humor that I can't keep up with. The guy kind of pisses me off, because he's good at everything he tries.

He's also in the middle of shedding his worldly posessions, packing what's left, and leaving Baltimore for the left coast. I'm happy for him, and I only want the best for him and his future, but his leaving fills me with a sense of emptiness.

Now I'm going to go sit in the corner with my woobie.

High Technology, Part 2 or, Stuff You Really Can't Afford. One of the things Jason is getting rid of is a G4 tower, which is now sitting next to my desk here at work. I think you've probably gotten a good deal on a used computer when it comes to you with all of the original packaging—the twist-ties are still in the box with the manuals. It's older technology at this point (a 400mhz G4 machine in the age of 2Ghz G5 towers) but it's so much faster than this laptop, I can't even describe the difference to you. Seeing the OSX screen at a resolution above 1024x768 is a novelty I won't tire of for a while.

My to-do list is as follows: Back up HD from the iMac to the G4 -> swap HD to G4 -> reformat 160GB drive and partition -> load 10.3 -> load applicatons and data files -> move stuff back from iMac -> wipe iMac drive and load 10.3 -> load applications and music back on iMac. Got all that? | link

March 30, 2004

Cautious Optimism. By trade, I'm supposed to be a freelance illustrator, which means people are supposed to call me up and ask me to draw them pictures for stuff. Normally, I'd love to do this all day—sitting around and drawing pictures is something I enjoy immensely. Because that's not really turning out to be the cash magnet I'd hoped, I got into web design, which turned out to be a much better way to pay the mortgage on time. Unfortunately though, the last time I redesigned my personal site was sometime in 2002, according to my archived files. With a little downtime at work, I've been taking the time to rethink my site and start overhauling the content, which has been no small feat.

Today I've been listening to Radiohead on repeat for the last couple of hours and have kind of gotten my groove on—the new design idea I had from a week ago is fleshing itself out pretty well into a full-featured site. More to follow in the next few days. | link

March 29, 2004

Whew. That's the first time in a long time that I've gone the whole weekend without posting at least something, which should tell you just how busy we were. Friday afternoon we got our taxes done, and while the news was good (I'm getting some serious Federal back while Jen is only paying out a little) it's still not gonna get us all the way to Venice. From there we met up with some of her now ex-work peeps and got some food at what could loosely be described as a Mexican restaurant—the menu said it was Mexican, and they served margaritas with it, but I've had better enchiladas during the stoner shift at the local Taco Bell. (Really, thank you, Casey, we had a great time.)

Saturday we hit the ground running, getting two of the four bedrooms closer to finished. The office is now painted with one coat of Restoration Hardware's Silver Birch and the trimwork is all replaced, caulked and primed; Jen put a second coat of blue on the wall in the front bedroom and we got two coats of gloss white on the trim. It's beginning to shape up in there.

Saturday night we met up with the Patron Saint of Bridal Sanity and the Vodka Fairy, who were kind enough to give us a bottle of Hangar 1 to quiet the voices in our heads. From their house we went to the Chameleon Café for a delicious bacon-themed meal and creme bruleé, which was divine.

Sunday morning we hit 9 o'clock mass to sample the guitarist who may be playing at our wedding...let's just say the drumkit and bass guitar will not be getting a solo at our ceremony. We picked up our rings, which turned out beautifully, and scouted Jen's interview for Wednesday before returning home for more housework.

Heh. Looks like Jen's site has been blocked by our governmental friends at Lockheed Martin today; here's their rationale:

Due to SSA policy limiting personal use of government office equipment including information technology, access to the web site you requested is restricted. Examples of sites considered inappropriate are:
- Hate sites which contain material that ridicule on basis of race, color, sex, national orientation, or sexual orientation.
- Sex sites of an adult oriented or pornographic nature
- Nudity
- Criminal behavior
- Gambling

Let's see. Check. Check...check...check! Yep, she covered them all! </sarcasm filter> What the hell? | link

March 26, 2004

Goodbye. Jen has, as of 12:00 this afternoon, left her craptastic job for the last time. Now, to find newer, better employment in a creative atmosphere. Meanwhile, we are both heading to our tax attorney's office this afternoon to find out just how far in hock to The Man we are. Please keep your fingers crossed for us.

I'm sure that all 589 of these folks would love to hear the tasteless jokes foisted on the attendees of the Radio and Television Correspondent's Dinner the other night (take a look halfway down the page) by our ignorant, arrogant President (better link).

"Those weapons of mass destruction have got to be somewhere. (Laughter and applause.) "

Really frigging funny, assface. I don't know what's worse, however—him making the joke, or all those lazy, worthless pricks laughing at it. Curious how I can't find a whole lot about it on U.S. based sites right now, but had to find a link to it from the Guardian. | link

March 25, 2004

Slacking. Not much to write about today. I must be on the downleg of a sugar crash (thanks to Heather for strawberry-rhubarb goodness) because I'm running on two cylinders right now.

Among the many things going on right now, besides wedding stuff, house stuff, and work stuff, is another attempt at redesigning this site. I've been working with this design for about three years now, and I'm getting tired of the format. I've tried several times to work up a new look but never have been happy with the results. | link

March 24, 2004

On Apologies, and Marriage. Ever since I started dating Jen, I learned a lot of things that I hadn't figured out in three previous relationships and several catastrophic dating experiences; when I met her, I was a 22-year-old with 17-year-old tendencies trapped in a 29-year-old body. Among the many vices and character flaws I sported like a superhero utility belt was the infuriating ability to coast through life with little regard for other people's feelings. My loving family could sit you down and relate a lifetime's worth of stories to this effect, and I won't even mention the volumes of examples Jen could tell you about. Instead, I'll point to a current issue, and attempt to apologize for my ignorance. You see, when it comes to uncomfortable issues, I have a reflexive habit of sidestepping the whole thing and burying my head in the sand. As you can guess, this is one of the more infuriating character flaws I have, and it's probably the first one that my fiancée would cite as she stood over my unconscious body with the frying pan.

So I should clarify my post from yesterday: I suggested we put the moratorium on further invitees to our wedding, and she suggested I shut the f**k up and pay attention to what she's been telling me for three months: we're over our limit, and only a miracle (or the Almighty) will help us sneak in under or at the budget. My loving fiancée has been wrestling the budget since the beginning, and while I look at it, nod, and blink, she can (and has) recalled the exact figure for the postage on the save-the-date cards like Dustin Hoffman in Rain Man.

In an effort to make right what has been screwed up, I offer my apology in this public forum: Forgive me for making myself ignorant of this issue, and making light of it here in public.

In other news, here's a great link on the 10 Things They Never Taught In Design School. (via kottke) In heavy rotation on the iPod: Lapdance by N.E.R.D. This track makes me want to buy a drum kit and rock out in the garage. | link

March 23, 2004

Voice From The Past. I got a call out of the blue last night from my old buddy Pat, who has finally joined the rest of us here in the 21st century online. When he saw the word "wedding" on my website he tracked me down to find out if it was true. Of course, I had to ask him to come, even though our guest list is bigger than Oprah at a buffet table. After I got off the phone Jen and I agreed that the cutoff has arrived, meaning that even if the Almighty shows up at the front door with a gift-wrapped blender, we're going to have to turn him away.

Poor Jen has lost about a month's worth of sleep worrying over the budget for this party; despite using all her best ju-jitsu on the assorted line items, the total figure gets larger and larger—even after cutting half the 'normal' wedding stuff, foregoing a rented location, and sneaking our invitations on press for free. We looked at last week's numbers after talking with Pat and took a cold bucket of reality to the face.

It also looks like Italy is out as a honeymoon destination. Instead, I made some calls last night to price out a ten-day stay in Tahiti, which is surprisingly affordable. Postscript: A ten-day stay in Venice is cheaper than an eight-day stay in Tahiti. We have more deciding to do.

Speaking of affordable, getting paid would really be good right now. | link

March 22, 2004

Milestone. Today marks the beginning of the fourth year of this humble weblog. Three years ago I sat down at my desk in Washington, and, without a project to work on, wrote a brief entry about coats. Who would have known just how different life would be since then?

I posted a new picture of the office this morning. It doesn't look all that different, but you'll see a dramatic change in another week or so when the trim gets painted and the walls get a finish coat.

We may have a photographer for our little party in May—a friend recommended a friend whose portfolio looks very good. The decision has not been made final, but I think it would be money well spent, even if we have to put some stuff in hock to afford it. | link

March 21, 2004

Weekend Recap. Saturday we made about a zillion wedding-related calls, and got no callbacks (except for one email from the photographer, who we probably won't be able to afford anyway), so we ran out to pick up paper for the invitations (which look damn good, thanks to my fiancée ) and then back to clean the house for the Big Watosh, who came up to get fitted for his tuxedo. We had a great time with him— you know you've got Captain Lockard, USN (Retired) in a good mood when he's joking about trying on a pair of pink pumps at the shoe store. After a meal at the local Irish pub, we began the process of building the invitations, which involved doing battle with X-Actos —not a simple task when you consider our track record—and double-sided sticky tape.

Today Jen finished up the invites and contemplated what to do with the other 9,960 still in the box, and then wrestled with the budget. I got the office sanded and put a coat of Kilz on the walls to seal it all, then moved into the blue room to finish installing the kickplates. Finally, I started stripping the wallpaper from inside the closet in the pink room, which is about 1/2 done. I'll update pictures tomorrow.

I guess I should also mention that I submitted a link to BoingBoing, one of my favorite aggregator sites, last Wednesday. For my birthday, they posted it: a page I put together a couple of years ago featuring some pictures Pat and I took in Oklahoma back in 1992 during a road trip westward. The link was inspired by a previous post featuring some other wacky homemade signs on a different site.

That had to be the most X-Files moment of my life; Pat was driving and I had him pull over on the shoulder so that I could shoot some film. I got about half a roll before he told me the fuzz was heading towards us, and in a rare moment of sanity we beat it on out of there. I had always wondered what that story was all about, until I found the Roadside America link which explained a little more in detail. Spooky stuff, my friends. | link

March 20, 2004

Let The Circle Be Unbroken. It's time again for several advertising agencies to convince their clients that using "What I Like About You" is a good idea. And so it goes: about every three years, The Romantics shill everything from lousy pub food to domestic cars to lite beer to cat food. And the four guys in the band sit back on their beach chairs, order another double margarita, and thank God they were in the room when that song was written. | link

March 19, 2004

Civil Ceremony. I went to the Baltimore County courthouse this afternoon to pick up our marriage license. The whole experience reminded me of a trip my father and I took when I was about 14 to go see the battleship Massachussetts in Fall River. The government had towed this huge monster into the harbor and opened it up for tours to the public, which meant legions of Cub Scouts got to overnight on the ship and scratch their initials into the walls. It had this smell that I've found unique to Navy ships: a curious mixture of fire-retardant paint and disinfectant, with a flowery bouquet of asbestos.

The county courthouse is a big cement building filled with tired gray marble and Carter-era brown furniture. It wasn't until I stepped into the elevator that I made the olifactory connection: It had the same dull gray government paint smell as the battleship. Upstairs in the hallway outside the Clerk's office, big signs in Times Roman announced the hours civil ceremonies would be performed, and several expectant couples milled around the waiting area. I stood on line behind a young Jewish man with a shock of red hair under his yarmulke as he and his bride got their license. A short woman shuffled slowly out of the ladies' room past me in a silky dress with a garment bag over her arm. She padded over to the benches in stocking feet and waited with a plump man in a trucker's vest and bluejeans, talking quietly together.

The Jewish couple turned to leave, and I wished them good luck; they both blushed and smiled nervously, holding hands. The clerk was professional and courteous, and within five minues I had a copy of our license in my hand. Leaving the building, I passed several knots of people in the waiting area: the short couple, a gaggle of Asian folks, dressed impeccably and holding flowers, and a man in a Member's Only jacket talking excitedly in a Slavic language to a group of serious-looking family. | link

March 18, 2004 -33!?!

Show Your Colors. I went on a journey yesterday to find an Irish flag to hang from the mount outside our front door: I'm Irish, my future bride is Irish, and soon our Irish kids will be running free, terrorizing the neighborhood. I thought that it would be an easy thing to find a seasonal flag on St. Patrick's Day—surely Target or Wal-Mart would have some kind of aisle full of green plastic derby hats and paper shamrocks to decorate your bar, pub, or keg, right? Wrong. There was no recognition of this noble day, this ancient tradition of inebriation, in either store. Aisle upon aisle of sickeningly sweet pastel Easter candy, clouds of perfumed sugar sucking all the oxygen from inside the building, but nary a leprechaun to be found.

Instead of seasonal flags, or even a 'greatest hits' compilation of countries, there was the same pathetic collection of cutesy 'welcome spring' type flags, the ones which employ every primary color in a headache-inducing pattern loosely resembling a bunny, or a rainbow, or a flower. They were at most 2" wide, which is about as welcoming as a kick in the groin—I'm looking for something that screams PRIDE, one of those magnificent rippling car sales lot flags that could cover a football field and blot out the sun.

So I consulted the phone book, and found one 'Irish and Celtic' store on the other side of town. I talked to a man on the phone with a thicker accent than Shane McGowan, who told me they had a flag for sale that was $25. Excitedly, I drove up there to see Mr. McGowan, figuring they would be beating the people away, this being St. Patrick's Day, and he being the loveable, toothless frontman of the Pogues. Instead, I found two pimply-faced kids behind the counter and a quiet store—which suddenly made sense: If I were Shane McGowan and I owned a store, I would have been piss-drunk in the pub by 8:30AM and had my kids watching the place too. Handing over my debit card, I got a 3' x 5' nylon flag printed with orange and green. I'm not happy about this, and I'm pissed at Shane McGowan. How could a fellow Mick sell me this shite flag? For $25, I was expecting a three-panel flag sewn together, and at least twice the size. How can I be expected to show my Irish pride if I can't stop traffic with my flag?

Progress. I've spent the last couple of days washing, sanding, and mudding the office ceiling, and it's beginning to come together. I mixed a batch of plaster and replaced the huge swath of water damage from the roof last night, and rembered exactly why I hate working with plaster in the first place. The hole is patched, and the walls look less like an alley in Beirut and more like a flat surface every day. Here are the new pictures. | link

March 17, 2004 - Erin Go Bragh

High Technology. You know you've been working in your house an awful lot when you have somebody's email address written on a chunk of 2X4 in pencil. I did get the ceiling in the office cleaned and primed last night, and began taping the edges in preparation for skimming. So progress is slow, but steady.

Hey, No Copying. Y'know those odd roadside shrines you see to dead people during your travels to and from the 7-11? Usually there's a cross, and it's decorated with some plastic flowers or a wreath. Sometimes they get more involved, like custom-carved names, balloons, or pictures, or sometimes the odd motorcycle helmet. Spooky, right? Anyway, I had the idea a long time ago to drive around and take artsy pictures of this strange phenomena, but somebody beat me to it.

Given that gas is getting outrageously expensive in the last few weeks, here's a tool that might help us commuters. | link

March 16, 2004

Hello, It's You. (Part 2.) A few years ago, I was lucky enough to meet a wonderful woman who shared a number of things in common with me. We would sit and write to each other during work, and I found myself constantly waiting for her next email. She wrote long, insightful messages laced with wit, hard-knock experience, and cutting sarcasm which intrigued me.

Luckily, she later became my girlfriend, and then my fiancee. Now that I get to see her every day, and we don't work for the same permissive internet startup anymore, our emails have become more succinct and matter-of-fact. I miss her writing, though, and I often wish we were back in that VC-funded Eden where lunchbreaks lasted three hours, candy was free, and we had eight hours a day to write what we couldn't say.

She's been secretly blogging on the down-low for a while now, and after a tumultuous year with Blogspot, she bought a subscription to Typepad. She's been writing there off and on for about a month now, and recently decided to come out into the open. Please welcome Jen into our online circle of friends. |

Monterrey (thx again pop), 3.16.04

Hello, It's You. My wonderful fianceé did a good turn and helped her mother buy a plane ticket to Florida last week. Considering we live about ten minutes from the dropoff lane of the airport, it makes sense to put her up at our house for an 8:30am departure, and drop her off at the gate. No problem. She arrived yesterday morning and settled in on the couch with five happy cats to keep her company while we went to work.

I returned home with the groceries to find a familiar but unwelcome car parked out front. it turned out that the prodigal daughter knew her mother was staying with us and decided to 'just drop by'. Given the case history there, Jen and I are about as comfortable having her in our house as we are with elective brain surgery. I invited her to stay for dinner, figuring that it was better to keep her under watch than let her leave with our stereo in her trunk. Jen got home a little while after I did, and when she looked at me, her eyes had the "Oh my (expletive, expletive, expletive) God, who let her in here?" look. Followed closely by a look that spelled H-O-T-W-H-I-T-E-D-E-A-T-H, something that lowers the temperature of surrounding counties by twenty degrees.

We sat and had a peaceful, quiet dinner, and she left after helping her mom do the dishes. As far as we can tell, everything is still where it should be, and no blood was shed. But we decided that's the last time she sets foot in our house without us being there.

Todd will appreciate this link: Jay-Zeezer: The Black and Blue Album. It's not too bad, actually. | link

March 15, 2004

Community. I hafta admit, I wish I had installed the comments system here a year ago. It's been really interesting to write about different subjects and see what you've responded to over the last month, so I'm doing a little unscientific list:

• Online Personality Tests - 2 entries out of 3 got comments. (My Theory: everybody got tired of them, or you already got them in your inbox the previous morning)
• Working on the house - 3/4 (You feel sorry for us, and are secretly happy your houses aren't broke-down like this one is)
• Wedding Information - 2/3 (You're thinking, enough already...am I invited or not, you cheap prick?)
• Weekend Updates - 2/3 (Because it's just so much more interesting than the rest of this crap.)
• Computers - 1/4 (This is you: Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz)
• Trucks - 2/2 (Everybody loves trucks.)
• Booze - 1/1 (Almost as much as they like booze.)
• NASCAR - 0/1 (But nobody likes NASCAR.)
• Democrats 2/2 (OK, damn, this got some feathers rustled. Good to see you're still awake out there.)
• Frigging AOL - 1/1 (And who doesn't have a frigging AOL story?)
• TPS Reports - 1/1 (Or forgotten to put a cover on theirs?)
• Maryland Ham - 1/1 (Wow. I mean, this one got some people talking. Or maybe it was the beets.)
• Work changes - 0/3 (You don't care where we're employed, as long as we pick up the next round of drinks. Ungrateful bastards.)

So there you have it; that's what people are talking about.

Pictures. Here's some shots of the office in progress.

Daily Boardscan. Jen and I have a blue paperweight sitting in the foyer of the house taking up space: a rev C (slot-loading) iMac I bought a few months back in working condition. During the install of OS 10.3, I accidentally kicked the power cord out of the wall and (predictably) it went dark. Upon reboot, the machine made the needed clicks, whirs, and beeps, and showed nothing on the screen. Apparently I had blown the video board in my clumsiness, rendering the machine useless (this unfortunately is not the DVD model with the VGA out port on the back) for anything but anchoring a boat. What I'd like to do is swap it for the rev B grape iMac server, as it's faster and quieter, but money and time have put those plans on hold. Anyway, after searching in vain for information online about this malady, I found this page with other folks having the same problems.

Music for working by: Chemical Brothers, One Too Many Mornings. Beautiful, driving, relaxed beats. | link

March 14, 2004

Whew. I'll take this opportunity to bore all three of you loyal readers with the details of my weekend. Yesterday, as mentioned before, I cut the french door down but only fit it in the opening upstairs—hanging a door correctly is one of those jobs that sounds easy in theory but is extremely difficult in practice, something that demands a whole afternoon and a twelve-pack of beer. So instead I cleaned up the blue room and continued replacing the kickplates in the office, getting them all installed by nightfall. Jen and I were wiped out from both fambly and house, so we conked out early, sleeping through a standing invite for dinner with Todd and Heather. (Sorry, guys.)

Today I started in the office by cleaning up the framing for the windows, which had taken some pretty serious damage from the roof leak, plugging the hole, and then stripping the wallpaper from the ceiling. Let me just tell you, folks, there is no greater calling in life than standing on a ladder with scraper in hand, spraying hot water next to a live electrical fixture, all because some idiot decided that covering over cracked plaster with wallpaper was a good idea. | link

March 13, 2004

Projects. Among other things, I got this installed today. Kickplates are back in the office, and tomorrow I begin fixing the walls. | link

March 12, 2004

Anybody who needs a pretty wedding dress to wear for your special day, or just for going to the grocery store, please look here: Ebay item 2896753380.

Here's something to look at participating in next week: Photo Friday. I haven't been snapping a lot of shots lately (evidenced by the lack of entries for 2004 over there on the left), but with the advent of spring and an assignment, I think I can get out of the funk and start shooting again...

Music for working by: Boards of Canada, Music Has The Right To Children. Mellow, driving, melodic stuff that won't distract you.

Huh. Y'know, I feel that I'm a pretty up-to-the-minute guy, but I had no idea that Baltimore had its own Craigslist.

Maybe I'm totally self-absorbed here, but I think that Dave may be calling me out on my link and comment yesterday about voting Democrat. Let me talk a little more about it, and if I've missed his point, feel free to comment below and tell me. What I'm asking for is not a simple knee-jerk reaction to the current administration, but a course of direct action against it. Would I enjoy and support a viable three-party system in this country? Sure. (Will I vote for Nader? I don't think he's a viable candidate this year.) Do I think that Democrats are just as wishy-washy, underhanded and slimy as Republicans? Of course. But I also think that anybody who believes our current president is doing anything besides promoting the agenda of a few very wealthy organizations is kidding themselves. Say what you will about the previous Democratic administration—they had progressive foreign, economic, and environmental policies, and for all their warts, I believe they made my life better. I don't see anything like that with the current administration—I see lies, fear, and fascism in the guise of "Homeland Security" and patriotism.

Would I like to see a fresh crop of idealistic public servants reshape our government? Of course. Will that ever happen? Read your history books. In the meantime, I'll take the next best thing.

P.S. | link

March 11, 2004

3:12PM. There had better be a beer or two in my immediate future, because I am in a foul, foul mood.

Required Reading. Vote Democrat.

Crap, Part 2. One of the other joys of being able to field one's own minor-league kitty softball team is the collective pile of fur they leave behind. Actually, it's not one big pile—they can't be bothered to clean up after themselves, of course—but an inch-thick layer throughout the entire house. We are constantly running the vacuum cleaner, chasing after dust bunnies the size of grapefruit, but as soon as one clean swath is made on a horizontal surface, it is covered by more fur. (Or, a helpful cat, who will then commence shedding like Pig-Pen from Peanuts.)

So it was inevitable, of course, that our washer drain would become clogged with the winter coats of five nervous cats and begin backing up into the utility sink (let's all just savor that word for a minute: utility sink. Do you know how great it is to be able to work in the basement and wash one's hands without having to run back upstairs to the kitchen? I'm in heaven here, people). I busted out the pipe wrench and attempted to pry the cleanout drain cover off a hundred-year-old iron pipe, with predictably negative results, and then tried running a snake down the sink drain. I'm sure that sink snakes work for extremely talented people and drain-cleaning professionals, but for me the process resembled fighting an agitated ball python in a puddle of sewage.

So we called in a professional. This morning Mike rang the doorbell as Jen and I were getting ready for the day, and I ran downstairs to let him in the basement to deal with our balky pipes. Within about five minutes the drain machine was turned on and off, and Mike came back upstairs to present me with a bill for $140 and a sheepish smile.

Thankfully, he disposed of the clog, which I'm sure was the size of a bowling ball.

Funny Bunnies. Just click here. You'll thank me. | link

March 10, 2004

The interface I've been building for the last two weeks, which was fine and dandy as of yesterday afternoon at 3:30, has now been scrapped and redesigned by somebody else. Whoopee. To butcher a bastardization of the english language, I feel full of value-add.

(Yeah, smartass, I know it's incorrect grammar, but I've been in meetings where CEOs of multi-million dollar companies have exclaimed, "I like that idea! that's really value add!" Cretins.) | link

March 9, 2004

Here's that picture of the cameo I promised. Ain't that just beautiful?

What A Bunch Of Crap. One of the drawbacks to having five cats is the combined, um, output to deal with—we passed a veterinarian's sign on Saturday which cheerfully reminded us, "YOUR CAT WILL EAT 28 TIMES ITS WEIGHT IN FOOD YEARLY". We've been collecting about three weeks' worth of output due to inclement weather, and it's now time to get that out of the basement. Let me explain a little about our trash service: They won't pick up anything weighing over 20 lbs., which makes most trash cans useless. (One cat will foul 20 lbs. of litter in a week.) Historically, our truck averages a pickup time of about 10:30am or so, which means I usually put the trash out as I leave for work and return to find the cans strewn about our driveway.

This morning, I hauled nine bags out to the curb at 8:30, knowing I'd have plenty of time before it was collected. I left for work an hour later, passing the magnificent pile of cat poo, and drove down Frederick Road looking at...my neighbors' empty garbage cans.

On a positive note, some good samaritan came by and collected the dead opossum carcass from our front lawn, so I didn't have to deal with that.

Office Space. The office is now officially wired, which means I can start replacing floorboards and cleaning up the mess I've made. One power line, two data lines, one phone line, and one cable line. Halleleujah, amen. | link

March 8, 2004

Update. So, to recap, here's the weekend:

1. Jen has several irons in the fire for a new job; our friends came together and found some promising leads, and the Washington Post has a ton of current listings.
2. The invitations came out very, very well. Save the Date cards went out Saturday. (free offset printing is awesome.)
3. Jen and I have introduced her sister Annie to the joy of sushi and Sapporo. May the road to alcoholism and raw fish be a happy one.
4. The spring dinner was much, much better than last year. (They ran out of carryout. Sorry folks.)
5. Jen's folks were very cool this weekend. On our wedding day, she will be wearing a beautiful set of cameo earrings brought over on the boat by her great-grandmother. (Picture to come.)
6. You already read my gloating about the doors.
7. No, we weren't on the ferry that capsized. (Mom, we got your message, but couldn't call you last night. We'll be in touch.) Trivia: I've never been on a water taxi in twelve years as a Baltimoron.
8. Lest you thought we were expecting our guests would camp on the lawn, we have narrowed the hunt for hotels down to two. How much is too much for a hotel room these days? (Courtyard Marriott wants $90/night for a brand-new King bedroom with breakfast.)
9. Rob and Karean came by to show off their new Powerbook and I showed them how to use their iPods; they took us out to dinner at the Trolley Stop. Behind the bar there is a picture of the 2000 Memorial Day Parade in Catonsville, featuring the front of our house.
10. BG&E now believes us when we claim that the doctor no longer practices medicine in our house. (The guy looked at me like I was a child molester, though, when I showed him the old exam room.)

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March 7, 2004

Score! On our way to run about fifteen million wedding errands this afternoon, Jen and I drove past the church we're set to be married in, and she pointed out something on the other side of the street: two wooden doors leaning up against a tree in front of an old Victorian. Cranking my neck around to look, I saw the words 'FREE' scrawled on the other side, and she got the car turned around in three seconds flat. We loaded the booty into the back of the Saturn as mass let out and church bells rang: a six-pane French door and a huge one-pane front door, both with intact glass, hinges, and hardware. The front door is about an inch and a half thick, and it sports a brass letter slot as well as an ornate plaque reading 'Roselawn'.

The best part about finding $1,500 worth of wooden doors on the side of the road is that they're both oversized—the French door, minus about an inch on the sides and top, will fit perfectly in the Blue room doorway leading out to the atrium. And the front door will fit in place of the original, so we can use that for a sunporch down the road.

mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm. stuffed ham, oysters, candied yams, bread, and beets, 3.6.04

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March 5, 2004

Drool... erp! As much as I would love one of these to drag around behind the Scout, the price is just a little steep for my blood. Also, check out this link: Mocoloco—yummy industrial design to warm the heart and empty the pocketbook.

settlement check, 3.5.04

Update: Jen called me on the way back from the printer to tell me the invitations came out looking pretty good. Even though she told the printer three times which direction to run the job on the paper, they still f'd up the RSVP card, but considering we're getting the job run for free, we can deal with it.

This weekend we're heading down to the L-P City to take in the Hollywood Volunteer Fireman's Stuffed Ham & Oyster dinner (a peculiar southern Maryland delicacy which sounds gross but is actually delicious) and put in some face-time with Jen's folks. Hopefully some more bridesmaid issues will be resolved and peace will reign over the land, but I'm going to be wearing my steel underpants just in case.

We're also taking delivery of a used 400mhz G4 tower from our friend Jason, who has taken mercy on us with a generous payment schedule in light of our soon-to-be tight budget. I'm hopeful that Jen will find new employment quickly— it sounds like the local market is a lot busier than last summer, which was deader than Abe Lincoln. | link

March 4 2004

Wheels Are Turning. Last night Jen and I sat and talked about our options in light of all the drama at her office. Ordinarily, after hearing some of the stories she's told me about that company, I would have told her to leave months ago (and in fact I have), but our upcoming wedding has precluded any career moves to date. She's been scared to leave because the money is good, and she's been doing excellent work, but now that the new directive is to return to the old 'look'—which is about as professional as a Kinko's business card—there's no point in staying. Meanwhile, details of the

This isn't the first time we've been through employment upheval; in fact, we're getting pretty good at it. We have structured our expenses around one income, and while it won't be comfortable, it won't be the death of us, either. The wedding, which is the single greatest worry we have right now, seems to be on track and mostly paid for. So we hope you'll understand if we don't join you for a night out at that swank restaurant, but suggest domestic beer and a pizza at home instead.

In looking through the classifieds last night, I realized that the Baltimore Sun redesigned their site—moving away from the ill-advised 'Sunspot.net' portal approach and embracing their actual name. While I still think the front page is way overloaded with information, and poorly laid out to boot, there's improvement in a few areas, and it just looks better. (Plus, the emloyment section has a ton of good design jobs right now. *whew*) | link

March 3, 2004

My Thoughts Excactly. Salon has a great article on the train wreck that is CSI: Miami, AKA Melodramatic Line Readings With David Caruso. News to me: Gary Sinise, one of my more favored actors, makes yet another wrongheaded career move to star in CSI: New York. Stop the madness!

House Progress. I've been able to run wire throughout the office, which sets us up with enough plugs to run an entire Home Depot lighting department. Still to come are the runs for cable, phone, and ethernet, but for the time being I'm fitting the baseboards back in place and beginning to button up the far side. This morning I made the top hole in the sill plate to start dropping wire down to the basement, so hopefully that will happen towards the end of the week.

Album Of The Day: Dinosaur Jr., Where You Been. Taking me back to 1992.

Speaking of music, I've found a reasonable solution to my WMA -> MP3 problem: convert at a higher bit rate. If I go up to 192kbps, the sound improves dramatically—no more hollow, compressed singing-into-a-pint-glass sound. It's not great (I'd hate to see the second-gen wave compression) but it does the job. | link

March 2, 2004

Update. For those of you wondering just what in the hell all this cryptic work shit is all about, it looks like Jen's employers blew some kind of gasket and started making really stupid decisions about their employees. I got an email from her on monday with the cheerful subject line "I MAY BE GETTING LAID OFF TODAY CALL ME", and promptly spat my coffee out over the monitor. Jen's immediate boss resigned after finding that her boss was 'reassigned', which is corporate-speak for 'shoved out of the way so that someone may make a blatant bid for power'. This leaves exactly nobody to deflect the huge shovelfuls of dogshit they throw around in there, so Jen spent the day huddled under her desk waiting for the other shoe to drop and dodging phone calls. Now it's looking like the rest of her creative group is jumping ship, which is very much bad. After dealing with that junk at work yesterday, then savoring a lovely call with her mother last night, she started mixing greyhounds and didn't stop until the icemaker was empty. So really, if anybody knows anybody who's looking for a great, hard-working print designer, let us know.

ISO.
non-psycho, creative MA seeks stable, nurturing studio for long-term partnership. Must have well-adjusted staff, rational business plan, secure client base, and some form of organizational control. Turn-ons: Macs, 80's New Wave, sarcastic humor, deep red, animals, horror movies, Indian food, and Futura Medium. Turn-offs: ignorant clients, PageMaker, "desktop publisher," nü-metal, white wine, widows & orphans, reality TV, and bland food.
Drug-free, non-smokers only. | link

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