Fraudulent promises

Warning: This is a rant-type post. Skip if you're too full of good holiday cheer.

During the Christmas holidays is when delivery companies get slammed. People tend to shop online a lot these days and mid-December is when the insanity begins. I am an online shopper, not for the convenience but because I do my research as a consumer. Sometimes, the best, full-featured, durable items are simply not available anywhere but online. So I shop online more often than not.

Shopping online means that I don't get what I buy immediately. There's usually a lag of anywhere between a week to two weeks. I've had items delayed for up to a month before. It's all part and parcel of online shopping - we just don't quite have the infrastructure to send packages efficiently and on-time over long distances without paying through the nose for it.

Over the Christmas hols, I expect some parcels to be late. It's just not reasonable to expect some poor, underpaid person to work late on Christmas Eve just so I can get my parcel - there is an element of social responsibility here. The unspoken contract is that I'll be reasonably patient waiting for the parcel and they'll be reasonably competent delivering it on-time.

Unfortunately, this doesn't work. There are a few delivery companies I will do business with, including Canada Post, USPS (excellent!), DHL and FedEx. Regrettably, other companies are not so good and for two of them, I've decided to boycott them due to their abysmal customer service. Let's take a very recent example, shall we? The trend tends to go something like this:

1. I buy something online and pick a delivery method with company X. It doesn't matter what I pick, it won't show up on time so I just choose the cheapest one now.
2. About a couple of days after it's shipped, I can check my tracking number online and it'll say when it's supposed to be delivered.
3. I'll check my tracking number on the delivery day when no parcel has shown up at all and it's well past the time for last delivery. Lo and behold, mysteriously my delivery date information has disappeared and my package is "in transit" somewhere between here and Hades.
4. I call the courier company. I'll get a clueless customer service rep. I'll call again a couple of hours later, and usually get someone a little better. S/he will tell me they're starting a trace.
5. I sit and wait. A few days goes by, still no package. I call again. The package is still "in transit" and apparently no one has started a trace yet but they will this time, apparently.
6. I sit and wait. According to my online tracking information, it hasn't even reached my city yet. I call again, apparently they're "working hard to find where it is".
7. Suddenly my package appears. This would usually be around Delivery Day + 1 or 2 weeks.

I had a recent episode with a worldwide courier service. My online order came with free "guaranteed N day" delivery. When it failed to appear, I called and got told, "Oh, yeah - that's just what we call that level of service. We don't actually guarantee anything". I'm speechless. I consider that fraud. So, I'm boycotting that courier service. It means that I can't shop with quite a few popular online stores now but I refuse to give my money towards a business that out and out rips off their customers through blatant misrepresentation.

Is this what we have been reduced to? No wonder our businesses in Canada and the US are getting eaten alive by foreign competitors. We have no pride in what we do. More than that, we have no sense of shame anymore.

Women wargamers

I was chit-chatting with a few folks last week and the conversation meandered over to childhood hobbies. One guy who we shall call Mr. X was reminiscing about wargaming and I chimed in, "Yep, used to love that sort of thing too", for which I got an odd look and the comment, "Yeah, right - girls don't wargame". I was, of course, suitably offended by this (it was a boring day and I hadn't filled my Emotional Reaction of the Day quota yet) and was challenged, "Uh huh. So if you've played them, which ones have you played?", to which I rattled off quite a few.

Here's the funny part - while I was playing Harpoon, 3rd Fleet and WSIM, Mr. X's entire experience with wargaming consisted of Risk, Axis and Allies and chess (which I don't consider a wargame at all). Following that was a series of good-humoured but pointed exchanges, much to the amusement of those present. His parting shot was, "Well, playing is one thing, but winning is another."

Now, I don't care what you are as long as you're not a bumbling idiot who keeps asking "What do I do now?" when you're playing with me. I agree conceptually with that chap - most women in general don't seem to play wargames. I think the last study done showed that women wargamers comprise less than 1% of all wargamers, and wargaming comprises less than 7% of the entire gaming community (yes, citation needed, I know). Doing a rough guess, I'd say that there are fewer than 10,000 active women wargamers in the world right now. Therefore, I don't dispute the basic fact that women wargamers are rare. What I do take umbrage about is the idea that wargaming is not something women can play, or play well at. It wasn't worth the time and effort to educate Mr. X - if he considers Risk as a proper wargame, then heaven help him. He has, unfortunately, taken to calling me "Xena" since then, something that I shall have to remedy in short order.

To a certain extent, I'm not being fair to Mr. X - I had a rather unorthodox childhood for a gal. Do I love wargames anymore? Not really, or at least nowhere near the extent I did way back when. I certainly do not count myself as being an active gamer anymore, let alone an active wargamer. My interests have shifted elsewhere since my younger days and I can definitively say that I am a radically different person now.

Still, I recently picked up the latest incarnation of a favourite wargame of mine and discovered that yes, I still do have the touch. Not everyone can successfully defend the GIUK gap against a Soviet boomer surge. :)

Christmas 2007

Well, here's my first semi-obligatory Christmas post. We had a very nice quiet Christmas at home. The kids were happy with their loot and I spent a few good hours playing with them. Yes, I know Christmas isn't about loot and prezzies - good luck explaining that to small children. That vacant look when you explain these things to them? That's not comprehension. What's going through their little minds are something like this: I have no idea what she's talking about oh boy I can't wait to get back to my super killer robot mmm candy canes in my stocking yum ah good she's done yay!

The day was filled with good food, good company, good cheer and the din of children hard at play. That's pretty much it. It's an ordinary Christmas all around. However, that's not necessarily true of some folks I know. This year, I've known one person who was laid off not two weeks from Christmas, one who's spending Christmas alone after what turned out to be a nasty divorce despite a good start and one who is finally spending Christmas with friends but is so haunted by her past that she's having trouble accepting it.

There but for the grace of God go I.

Christmas is a time for happiness and joy, good food and good family, hot chocolate by the roaring fireplace, carols on the radio. What we sometimes forget is that there are unfortunates out there who are spending the day alone. Not necessarily because they have no money, although that certainly happens a lot too. No, Christmas is only meaningful if you have friends and family. Which some people, good people at that, do not have. Sometimes that's because of their own doing. Other times, it's because they have family who don't know how to be family.

I recall spending Christmas alone. A lot of Christmases, really. I also remember back when I was young and religious sneaking out on Christmas day to attend Christmas service, knowing full well the seven kinds of hell that would descend upon me afterwards from my non-Christian parents. I'm not religious these days but we still celebrate Christmas for the kids' sake. For as long as they believe in Santa and have innoncence in their eyes, my sis and I will eat the horrendously large cookies left out every year for the most conspicuous and recognizable B&E repeat offender from the North Pole.

I'm rambling, can you tell? Turkey dinners make me fuzzy.

Ah well, time to head off to bed, methinks. Happy Christmas everyone!

Shifting pains

My sis has been using a Nokia 6820 for the past 3 years now and while it was a great phone, her needs have changed as she progressed in her career. So, it was time to get her her very own smartphone as she had some very specific needs. We took a look at what's available and settled on a very nice cherry red Treo 680 for Christmas. It suits her needs very well thus far and she's quite happy with it. If nothing else, she gets to play games on her very attractive cherry red phone! Her needs were immediate, so she got her prezzie early.

Being a technophile myself, I couldn't help but take a look at my existing phone, an old but very reliable Nokia E61. I can honestly say that it's the best phone I've had in my life, functionality-wise. Ergonomically...it's quite ugly and very awkward to hold in my small hands. I also bought the unlocked version (as the E61 wasn't sold in Canada but the scaled down E61i was) which resulted in me getting the US version with a Spanish keyboard. By and large, it worked quite well but it's annoying to have to jump through hoops just to get simple symbols like '$' because its usual slot has been replaced by Spanish accented characters.

Despite that, it was a great when I had it. Now, after using it for nearly two years, it's a little banged up from everyday use. I think I dropped it about twice, which is still better than your average cell user. There are glitches where it resets and/or hangs these days which never happened when it was new. But that's not the problem. The problem is that it's simply creaking under the weight of the data I've put on the poor thing. Most of you who know me well have heard of my horrendously long and comprehensive to-do lists. I've got one big giant one sitting on my E61 and it's not liking it much. Even my phonebook is creaking along - it takes forever for it to come up with my contacts list and I really don't have that many on there. The most annoying thing are the random resets that happen - for no good reason, my E61 will just reset to default settings and I have to go back and see what's changed. I put up with all of that because it's a good phone.

Now, with my sister getting her own spiffy smartphone, I reevaluated the idea of replacing the E61. I started off with the usual basic needs: GSM, full keyboard, good call quality, good battery life, WiFi, Bluetooth, voice command, must be able to develop software for, etc. In the end, only one phone popped up: the HTC TyTN II. Unfortunately, it was a whopping $800++. We went through the standard family requisitions process and the application went down in flames - rightly so. I still had a functional (albeit slowly dying) phone and $800 was simply too much - it's over half the price of the MacBook I'm using!

So I reevaluated my needs. Now that I'm not a developer, I don't really need the full keyboard nor the ability to develop software for it. I have to face that fact that unless I return to a development path, I'm permanently out of the coding game as I will become less and less current with the latest technologies. My other requirements are mostly sound. Simply removing those two requirements widened the selection considerably. Capping the price at $500 (I'm not buying one with a contract and besides, I want it unlocked), I eventually settled on the HTC Touch. Reading the reviews, its 200MHz processor and puny 64Mb of RAM resulted in it grinding slowly along when it came to applications. Probing a bit further, I found I could buy the HTC Touch Enhanced with twice the amount of RAM and ROM for just $10 more, so I did. I'm anxiously awaiting its arrival but it looks like it won't make it in by Christmas.

For me, this whole phone business is yet another bittersweet episode. I've been coping with not being a software developer anymore now that I've moved on to product management and realizing that I'm just yet another casual user is...galling. I now use my computers to e-mail, read MS Word documents, track schedules with MS Project and make PowerPoint presentations. I don't write code on my machine anymore. It's not the job or company - I love my job and the people I work with. It's the shift. It feels...odd and disconcerting.

When my phone arrives, I know it's the right one for me. It's stylish and tiny, which means it'll fit in my handbag far better than my E61. It also has Office Mobile and syncs to Outlook seamlessly. I can still drop Pocket Scheme, PythonCE and a .NET on-device development environoment on it but I don't need to anymore. It's both liberating and frightening at the same time, like donning civilian clothing after wearing a uniform for years.

Desiring nothing

I was surprised by my birthday not too long ago - it didn't feel like as if a year had passed. But sure enough, my little electronic daytimer pinged some time back and announced, "Hello, Insert Name Here! Today's your Birthday! Many happy returns! Don't embarrass yourself too much!"

Yes, I'm still 28 years old and will remain that age until further notice through the wonderful help of self-delusionment and bald-faced lying.

Time is just whipping by far quicker than I remember it. This means that either my life is very full or my memory is going. I suspect both are true. Birthdays used to be very important to me. Not growing up in a Western country, there wasn't any concept of Santa bringing presents or whatnot once a year. You got prezzies on your birthday and that was that. Having come from a giant family with literally hundreds of cousins, I had to share my birthday with relatives. The one and only time I ever got a cake to myself was in kindergarten; since that I've had a slice or two only.

That used to bother me loads. Now, with kids that I care for and other family members who depend on me, I've found I'm more outward facing than inward facing. I was asked what I wanted for Christmas. For that first time that I can remember, I'm drawing a complete and utter blank. I think I have everything I want right now, which is a very strange place for me to be in.

Being unemployed recently certainly coloured my priorities permanently. For example, I'm well past the first week of December and my monthly "buy whatever you want" budget is still intact. It's usually gone within days, if not partly "borrowed" from the month prior.

What did I get for my birthday? Just a very nice present from my loving sis. And a call from a dear friend. It was a comparatively uneventful day excepting for some excitement in the latter part of the afternoon.

As scary as it seems, I think that after all these years, I'm finally really content. Either that or I've completely lost my mind.

Holiday parties

Well, it's that time of the year again, when holiday parties abound. Parties held by friends are one thing, corporate events are another. I usually get invited to a couple of them and this year is no different.

Only this time, I had nothing appropriate to wear.

So, my dear long-suffering sister got dragged off to the malls with me a couple of weekends ago in a frantic search for something appropriate for me to wear. I hate dress-shopping with a passion. Darned dresses all have zippers or buttons or whatnot in the most inconvenient (read: unreachable) of places. Plus, you have to be an expert contortionist to get into some of them without ripping the fabric. Long story short, we found a nice little black dress that made me look good and professional.

At least, that's what I hope I look like when I'm wearing it. Given that the salesladies didn't burst out in hysterical laughter, I'm assuming it's safe. Only one problem - dresses are expensive so I have to find a way to pay for it. It's a little bit silly, really. Over the course of the last month or so, I've spent more on books and business attire than I have in ages. Sure hope things even out soon because we can't continue to bleed money like this.

Oh, while I was out trying to find a dress, I found a very nice teal green dress that I *absolutely* loved. Problem: when I got to the counter, I assumed it was priced like the other ones I was trying on...and my jaw dropped to the floor when it rang up as $340! Suffice to say, I didn't buy that dress but I did go back to try it again when the price dropped to $249 not three days later. You simply have to love clothing stores - it seems like pricing games are the norm there. I loved that dress but...$249 isn't what I would pay for it.

*sigh*

Looking pretty is expensive. Holiday parties are important for a myriad of reasons and those of you who know me well will know that Fun isn't anywhere on that list of reasons. They're an opportunity to network, to chat with folks you don't normally hobnob with in the industry, etc. Too bad the price of entry is an expensive outfit. It'd better be worth it...

Sleep

When I was unemployed, I got a lot of time to sleep as I had no appointments during the day (excepting perhaps interviews) and therefore didn't need to get up early.

Time to sleep does not mean that I actually go to sleep. Most of that time consisted of me staying awake in the middle of the night, or waking up at odd hours worrying about the finances.

Now that I'm gainfully employed (albeit under the standard probation clause), I don't have as much time to sleep. But I enjoy a full night's worth of sleep - I am normally in la-la land the moment my head craters the pillow.

I guess it all makes sense, logically. I do wonder sometimes if the length and quality of sleep is a window into the state of the soul. I'm content, nay, excited about the opportunities I have currently - a big change from the nail-biting stress that weighed me down not a month ago.

I'm starting to like sleep. Maybe I'm getting older or perhaps I'm just calmer. Meh, this is making my head hurt so I'm heading off to bed. Good night!

From darkness into blazing light

I have just completed my first week of employment. It's great getting back into the swing of things after over a month of being at home or out interviewing.

On the flip side, I have definitively confirmed that yes, I'm a workaholic. I've gone from interviewing (itself a surprisingly exhausting stage) over to working in an office again. I'm tired, nay, exhausted but I'm *happy*.

I have to go check my work e-mail. More later. :)

Traditions

My sis and the kids presented me with a Waterman Carene fountain pen this morning. I start my new job tomorrow, a job that is a first for me in quite a number of ways. This is not the first time I have stepped into a managerial role but it's the first where I have family to share it with. Yes, I am feeling like the most fortunate gal alive right now! Thank you, dearest sis and the kids for this.

Giving someone you love and/or respect a new pen upon them ascending to a notable job or promotion is a tradition that is mostly lost these days. It's been a tradition that I've seen in my family and something I'm keeping alive for the next generation. If I'm not mistaken, I'm the first woman in my family to ever make it this far in the corporate world, ironically because I'm not saddled with the burden of cultural imperative given how far away I am from the rest of my birth family! I don't know from whence this tradition came from but if I had to guess, it probably stems from the old age-of-sail era, when a naval officer made senior command rank and was given a new (far better quality) sword to commemorate the ascension. Over time, captains of warships became captains of industry as peace broke out and I imagine the tradition shifted from swords to pens then - an apt transition if you ask me, both sharp, pointed weapons equally capable of saving and destroying lives.

Traditions are important, doubly so in this modern era where the things that make us civilized have become subsumed by the cult of the individual. I'm not saying that all traditions are good - there are some that are just plain wrong and should be condemned as the ignorant excesses of a bygone benighted age. We are people of reason, and reason should prevail as with all things.

Why is the gifting of a pen important? It's the same way that an officer's sword represents his honour - remember that in a court martial, the verdict is displayed by the defendant's sword. If it's pointing towards him, he's been found guilty, accused by his honour. Also remember that when judgment is carried out, the guilty officer's sword is snapped in half.

No, the job I'm going into doesn't have any of the mortal severity that naval officers at that time had. Not even close. I am, at best, a middle manager now and while I would like to slide into delusions of grandeur, the worst I can do is maybe make the stock drop a few cents by my idiocy. After over a month of unemployment, I'm eager to return to the corporate world and strive towards the greater glory of my company. Yes, I'm a dinosaur in that respect but I simply cannot work for a company I do not believe in.

I'm looking at my pen, feeling its weight, admiring the sharp clean lines tipped by a sharp clean nib. There's a scratch in the metal down one end of the nib and in a previous life, that would have bothered me to no end and spoilt my enjoyment. These days, the imperfection doesn't mar my appreciation of it - I no longer see it as a scratch but as a character flaw...and who amongst us doesn't have any? One more uniqueness in my life.

In the end, a pen is merely a pen and that's not the point. The point is that my sis and her kids have chosen to honour my traditions and it is that love which I have to be worthy of.

Oy, I'm in trouble now. :)

Hunger

I had a few errands to run in the downtown core this morning so I stopped to grab a quick breakfast at one of the multinational fast-food megachains. Completely by accident, I recently discovered that their breakfast burrito contained an egg-product that tastes disturbingly more like egg than real egg. I'm not sure how they do that and I definitely don't want to know how. I do like the taste so I indulge sparingly.

I was reasonably happy, calm and at peace this morning instead of my usual rush-rush-rush mode so I sat down with my order and did a bit of people-watching. I'd been to this particular fast food outlet before but I guess I must have been preoccupied previously because I noticed something I had never noticed before: the people there were eating but all of them appeared miserable. They eat but they still look empty inside, their hunger unassuaged.

Maybe I'm imagining it but there's a terrible look of despair in their downcast eyes as they munch on cheap, low-grade food. Yes, we don't have as much hunger in Canada as other places in the world does but are fast-food joints the answer? The food they serve is tasty but absolutely terrible to your health. We have a serious obesity problem on our continent; the fast-food companies are not entirely to blame but they are certainly instrumental and enablers to our obssity epidemic. I understand that the industry has a term for folks who frequent fast-food joints: they are called Heavy Users, which at least to me, brings to mind drug usage. That said, they not all to blame: the diners had a choice not to eat there.

Or do they?

If you're strapped for cash, what will you do: go hungry (non-viable long term), eat cheaply but poorly or eat well but deplete your dwindling funds? When you can have a lunch for $2, would you do that or go to the local grocery chain to get something healthy? Remember, the healthier it is, the more expensive it will be - that is the twisted logic in our industrial world today.

But the despair. The silence, which was only broken by the shrill punctuation of the fast-food joint workers calling out orders. Everyone looking down at their food, not talking even to the person they're eating with.

Yes, I know, I'm eating there so what right do I have to comment and judge? Comment yes, judge no - I don't know the stories of the folks there. But it is non-trivial to me that everyone's there sitting and munching quietly with an aura of gloom. Maybe they're sleepy? Maybe it's too early in the morning? Perhaps.

Why am I affected? I'm not sure I know. It's just depressing to see that such a joyless place exists. Colourless diners in a colourful diner, filling their mouths in all-consuming silence.

Roots

I'm not from Canada originally. Yep, I'm a zeroth-generation Canadian! I have been extraordinarily fortunate to have family here in Canada; my sis, the kids and the close friends I consider family are more than I deserve.

I'm not having a very good day today, mostly because my passport application just got hung up at the local office. It's nothing major in the grand scheme of things and I'm sure it'll all get sorted out eventually. Having said that, I was queued up for an ungodly long time trying to get in and subjected to the rather labyrinthine governmental regulations that eventually decreed that no, despite my best efforts my documents were not in order therefore so sorry, but they cannot grant me another passport. So, I called the appropriate folks who are supposed to send me another copy of the offending document, this time with the proper phrasing and whatnot. This is a royal pain in the tush because I had explicitly asked the provincial rep in question if the document I had was the right one, and he said yes. Today, I learnt from his assistant that he was fully aware that the version I had won't pass muster but told me to go ahead anyway. If a corrected document isn't forthcoming posthaste, I shall be asking my solicitor to have a little chat with the provincial official. I hate doing that, not just because of the cost but because having a lawyer calling you about your transgressions tends to ruin both your day and night. However, I will do what I need to do and I do hope things will be resolved on their own without conflict.

The passport office folks were great - I am amazed and impressed at their understanding and compassion for a rather distraught version of me, which scares small children at the best of times. Their hands were tied and I understand that - they even went to the trouble of calling Ottawa for a senior case officer to see if the documental requirement could be waived. Alas the answer was no, and that was that. However, I understand that the senior case officer and the legal department is now aware of my file and I have no idea if that's good or bad. I've been a good little quiet inoffensive citizen, so I'm assuming I'm okay since I have nothing to hide. Still...not having a good day.

All this has made me rather melancholy and as my mind drifts as it is wont to under stress of this sort, I wondered what life would have been if my Dad hadn't sent me overseas. Did I miss much staying in Canada? Would I have done better had I returned to my birth country after finishing my studies? I don't think so. I'd have returned and been the dutiful child, producing heirs and whatnot. I love children but I would to be remembered more than just for producing children.

In any large old clan, family politics are inevitable. Being in Canada means I don't really matter to them, a fact both convenient and distressing. Unlike most of my family, I'm not all that interested in inheriting governance of that pit of vipers I call my uncles, aunts, cousins, nephews and nieces. Instead, here I am in Canada about to embark on a new career as a manager, inheriting product governance of that peculiar herd of contentious cats called software developers! There is symmetry here and I'm sure humour as well. Not sure I'm up to exploring that today though.

I love Canada. I gained my citizenship years ago and it still fills me with wonder. I still stand up whenever "O Canada" is playing. I don't go out of my way to proclaim that I'm Canadian but if I'm asked, I will proudly state that I am. When I was living in the US, one of the things I truly missed was Tim Horton's coffee, as cliched as it may be. I love our multicoloured currency and odd two-part coins. I love the fact that as a nation, we have rarely shirked from doing what is needed but always modest enough to keep our mouths shut when we're done.

Yes, I have left behind almost my entire family back in my birth country...but I love the new one here with all my heart. I am glad that my sister's children will grow up here, where there are better and fairer opportunities. Ultimately that is what counts, since *they* are the future and I am now the past. It's strange to go from budding leaf to anchoring root in the family tree in just a few decades. But...it is good soil that I am setting the family roots in - rich, earthy, nourishing, good, honest soil. The family shall continue here in this land that I call home as did many others before me have. I hope that we shall make Canada proud. But quietly, for we are Canadian. :)


UPDATE: The provincial official has faxed me the corrected document today. I understand his entire staff scrambled to get it ready so fast. A part of me feels guilty for causing all this work. Then I remember that, oh wait, *he's* the one who assured me *twice* that the original document was sufficient. I don't feel so guilty about him anymore but I still feel bad that his staff had to scramble. :(

Black gold

Both my sis and I have been feeling under the weather a lot lately. She works insane hours so that's understandable. Her solution (recommended by a friend) was to take multivitamins, B-complex in particular. I don't know if it works but she swears by it and to be honest, she does seem to have more energy since she started taking those horsepills.

Me, I hate pills. With a passion. I have a very strong gag reflex and am wary of pills of any kind. But I'm running rather ragged these days and it seems like B-complex is partly the answer. So, what do I do?

Simple: Marmite - one of the richest dietary sources of B-complex vitamins out there.

Well, what can I say? I grew up in a former British colony and therefore had a high percentage of English staples in my diet. I grew up with it. I love it. One of the first things I sought after when I arrived in Canada was a distinctive jar of that savoury black gold. Marmite isn't just a food, it's an institution! Like the type my sis and the kids seem to think I belong in as they watch with horror on their faces whilst I devour Marmite on toast.

Next, Marmite in cooking! I wonder if Amazon has Marmite cookbooks? Hmm, what's that, sister dearest? Run for the hills? Pardon?

Inertia

Yay! I'm done my term project for my course! Of course, it's well past bedtime over here so why am I blogging? Well, I've been laying off the coffee for quite a while and have gotten down to just *gasp* ONE cup a day.

Today/yesterday/the day before/whatever, I drank about 4-5 cups. My brain is fried, I'm throughly sick and enchanted by exoplanets at the same time and my body tells me everything's A-OK and I should be out eating breakfast.

Oh boy, tomorrow/today/whatever is going to be fun. Have to love that caffeine-inertia.

On the bright side, now that I've finished my term project, I have nothing to do! Yay! Oh wait, I still have to (among other things):
- relearn PowerPoint
- swot up on Agile methodologies
- go shopping for work clothes appropriate to new job
- get a new passport (new job requires travel)
- fix up my sister's website
- review and revise the kids' lunch diet
- resume volunteer work with scientific organizations

Hmm, is it too late to run away from home? Oh wait, I don't have a valid passport anymore so I can't even do that. *sigh*

Y'know, all in all I'm pretty happy or at least content. I think I'd go positively batty if I had nothing to do, so having life-inertia isn't half bad after all.

On an unrelated note, I used to be exactly like that. Nowadays, not so much. Yes, I'm stunned too. :)

Universal connection

I am an amateur astronomer. Over the years I have accumulated more telescopes and other astronomy-related equipment than you can shake a stick at. I'm awfully tempted to donate some of it to the local schools, which is I will probably do soon.

Out of all my telescopes, my primary instrument is a research-grade catadioptric telescope on a GPS-capable motorized guiding mount. Looking around the house, it's probably the most expensive piece of equipment around. It also very heavy - I've been growing progressively weaker since I started my treatment for my Condition. When I bought it, I could lift it by myself. Now, I can't. Fortunately, there are usually some very kind gentlemen in my local astronomy club who'd help me get it setup and taken down.

Having a self-guiding motorized mount that auto-calibrates using GPS is very handy. I can put my CCD on the scope and take pretty pictures. Eventually, I may buy a photometer for it to do so photometric measurements. It's handy - I don't have to continually bump it to keep objects in view at high magnification. I also don't need to find it - just scroll down to the thing I want to see and it auto-slews to it.

It's useful. It's handy. But it all seems like cheating somehow.

I started astronomy, really started astronomy down in California with a handy 8" Dobsonian. I learnt the skies by starhopping, as did many generations of astronomers before. There is a certain satisfaction in navigating the bejewelled vaults of heaven to find the glittering object older than Earth itself nicely centered in your eyepiece. It's a feeling of accomplishment hard to describe. I think that perhaps commercial pilots might understand, going from flying jetliners on autopilot to the sheer joy of hand-flying a nimble small plane.

There is also the camaraderie amongst amateur astronomers. The rituals of setting up one's scope near but not too near each other. The quiet enjoyment of waiting for night to fall and our scopes to cool. The anticipation that comes from seeing the first star in the darkening sky. The fade from recognizing each other by visual means over to completely audible sounds. The sharing of communial knowledge of the stars, one of the last oral traditions still in effect as each generation of astronomers teaches the next one where the beautiful things are. The smallness and insignificance of our daily troubles when put in perspective of gazing up into the night sky and seeing the Milky Way encircle the heavens like a road of stars. The awe and wonder of seeing objects in the eyepiece whose photons were already whizzing through the ether for countless ages before our own Sun was even formed.

How can you experience all that and not feel connected?

Alas, professional astronomers (as opposed to amateur astronomers) often don't know the night sky. They have computers and technicians to slew their instruments for them. Some of them never even bother going to the observatory - they can just get their electronic data sent to them.

I intend to shift over from my present industry over to astronomy/astrophysics sometime in the next decade or so. I hope I never become so intellectually cold as to forget what it means to be an astronomer, amateur or otherwise.

Stepping stones in the Long Dark

I am currently writing my term project for my course on SETI. In the course of my research, I'm plowing through old articles and research papers when I came across the fact that we imaged an extrasolar planet (i.e. a planet around another sun not our own) back in 2004. There's a nice understandable article with nifty pictures here.

Every now and then, I'm amazed by the march of scientific progress and the modern miracles we take for granted. I mean, we went from our first tentative steps towards powered flight at Kitty Hawk to picking up geological samples off our Moon in less than a century! Being a space aficionado (my sis prefers to use the alternate term of "nut") myself, I have a more in-depth knowledge of what challenges it took for the Americans to get a person to the Moon safely. What is even more astounding to me is that we, humankind, saw that as a species-wide achievement. All this in the depths of the Cold War no less! Truly, there is hope for us yet.

Now, we can take photos of other planets around other stars. Soon, assuming we don't return to another Dark Ages brought about by anti-science theocrats, we'll be sending people to these planets too. We will leave this cradle of humanity called Earth, people. Partly because the human spirit cannot be contained within just one planet. Partly because we're curious. Mostly because if we don't, our species will be stillborn and our cradle will be our coffin.

One of my kids wants to be the first man on Mars. I don't know when I can shift careers into astrophysics and I don't know if it will help. But I owe it to him to try! It is our greatest endeavour, one that will determine whether we last through the ages or if we are but a cosmic blip, here for but an unnoticeable moment and disappearing without a ripple. I am under no delusions of grandeur, that the contributions of a single woman of science will matter much in this era of inhuman supercomputers. But I intend to do my part, for whatever it's worth because when the day comes and we have someone landing on Mars, it is my ardent hope that we, all of humankind, will celebrate that as an achievement for all of us and not of just one nation.

Ultimately, in the Long Dark of space, we are one family living in the home that is Earth.

Mortality

A double post today. Lucky you, you who are bored enough to come here. :)

Around two weeks ago, I received news that a teenager with the same Condition as I had had died. His Condition was caught very early and treatment seemed to be going well. Suddenly, he just...passed on. I'm not going to repeat the details here out of respect for his family but it was very sudden and shocking.

In this year alone, I have seen no less than 8 people with my Condition whom I know in one way or another pass on for various reasons, none of them natural causes. Counting my support groupss, I'd guess that cumulatively, we're talking about 20-30+ folks dying this year. Given that this Condition is rare, it means that the survivability rate is dropping this year as 20-30 people is a *huge* chunk of our community.

This makes me sad. I'd say that even though my symptoms intensified slower than others, I have been fortunate to retain that which I still have. I know that others have not been so fortunate and I try my best to help them where I can.

But...this young man had every advantage too, more than I have. He was farther along in his treatment and seemed to be responding better too. But he is no longer with us.

It took me a while to come to terms with this. I'm not sure I totally grok my feelings about this yet. I'm certainly scared and demoralized. I'm not sure if all of this is going to be for naught in the end and if I will just end up being yet another statistic. Given that I very nearly was a couple of years ago, this is something that I am actively trying to prevent, for whatever good it does. However, I have reconfirmed that the treatment path I'm on is the right one and that I should continue. In this, I have the full support of my family, for which I am thankful for - family should never be taken for granted.

Greasy and wet

I caught the fountain pen bug a couple of years back. Up until then, I was firmly in the ballpoint camp. They're cheap, abundant and if you lose them, who cares? Besides, most of my experience with fountain pens have been with Hero pens, which had serious flow problems if you didn't know how to use them properly.

A couple of years back, I decided to start journaling when I ran headalong into my Condition. I needed to let the fear, the frustration and the sheer helpless out somehow. My family wasn't really in the loop as they were struggling with it as well. I found that journaling on cheap notebooks using ballpoints were...unsatisfactory. So began my love affair with fountain pens and Moleskine journals.

Yesterday, I completed the restocking of some stationery supplies I had wanted to replenish but couldn't due to the whole "don't have an income" thing. In that process, I picked up the Fisher Space Bullet Pen in matte black. It's astonishingly tiny - I have small hands but I could palm this pen easily. It's really nicely weighted and obviously made well; there were beautifully machined metal parts all the way around, including a gasket ring to keep water out.

I love well-designed creations and this definitely falls under that category. It's a relic of a time long past, harkening from the era of tin toys and transatlantic zeppelins, when things were made to last. I miss that quality in this era when things are made "just good enough" or less. I guess that's partly why I'm a perfectionist - it would be hypocritical for me to do any less.

Why the Fisher? I tend to wake up in the middle of the night a lot. Actually, I tend to dream about my problems of the day a lot and occasionally, I solve some of these problems in my dreams. I have a pretty good memory, so most of it tends to stick until I wake up and get to work but the recent stress has eroded my capacity to remember details somewhat. So, I'm keeping a notepad and the Fisher by my bed in case I have epiphanies, like how they get the caramel into the Caramilk bar.

The key selling point of the Fisher pens are their pressurized ink cartridges. Apparently, they can write under any conditions including inverted, underwater and on greasy surfaces. I bought it so I can write inverted while lying on my bed. I'm not sure if I'll ever need to write underwater and on grease. If I did, I suspect my message would be along the lines of "Help! I've fallen into some greasy water and I can't get up! Glub!" - the usefulness of writing such a message would be dubious at best but it's nice to know I can write that if I chose.

Illiteracy

I just spent the last little while trying to find a good letter-writing pad. I have regrettably failed - no one seems to sell good pads of paper anymore, other than the mass-produced junk you find at Office Depot. This makes me sad.

I have fond memories of snooping into my Dad's desk drawers, something I wasn't supposed to do. I have vivid mental images of his old bottle of Quink, his pads of onionskin paper, envelopes and sealing wax. No actual expensive fountain pens or his personal seal though - he knew what sort of inquisitive brat I was. Back then, everyone wrote letters. Not postcards - letters.

These days, most people e-mail or text message via phone or instant messaging clients. I do too and it's a convenience of the modern world.

But...there is a sensual pleasure to writing letters. The crispness and distinctive smell of good paper. The fluidity of ink as you refill your fountain pen. The paper thirstily drinks the ink from the pen as you scribe your wishes, greetings, fears and hope to your friends and family. Letter writing is not just about writing letters. It is about putting a part of you in the message. Unlike the sterility of electrons whizzing down wires at unimaginable speeds, when I receive a handwritten letter from someone, I know that s/he has touched it and has taken the time to write it themselves.

*sigh*

I did find a tiny block of good paper. Not foolscap-sized but it'll do. Call me quirky, but I believe in taking the time to write to my friends myself. A little piece of personality encoded in the message. Sometimes, that's nice to have.

Silence

For all of my life, I've always had a particular song that I draw inspiration from when times are tough. In fact, my life can be divided into periods, each with a particular song. Sometimes it's a classical piece, other times it could be a little pop ditty. It's kind of like the bagpipe music or drums for troops when they go to war; it stirs the blood and provides encouragement.

During the last month or so when I was unemployed, there was just silence in my head. No song, nothing. It's the first time it's ever happened. I'm not sure what it means quite yet and I'm not sure if it's permanent. Whatever it is, it's different. I guess I'll just have to see what develops, if anything.

I've also realized something over the last month as well. There are some well-known accounts of folks with my Condition but all of them stop shortly after a particular point in their treatment. It's like as if they got Cured and Lived Happily Ever After.

This is, of course, patently false.

A few months back, I considered and decided against starting up another blog that focused on my experiences and coping mechanisms for my Condition, parallel to this one. I've reconsidered it and will be starting it up soon. It's true that once you've reached a certain point in the treatment, things settle down. However, things are subtly different...and that was what kept tripping me up over the last month. This is not a blog for my friends and family and most of you have indicated you're not interested anyway, which is perfectly fine. It's geared towards helping other folks with my Condition learn how to cope mid-treatment. I intend to break the silence on what happens afterwards, in the hope that it will provide some guidance to others in my community.

Why am I mentioning it here? Well...the Sanity Defence is going to go into hiatus for a bit while I ramp up on the other blog. I'll still be posting here but nowhere near as often as before. Don't worry, you'll still get a decent picture of what's happening. :)

Transitions and Blessings

Looks like this year is a year of changes! I've been reviewing my job expectations as set out in the employment contract and have been doing some research and learning to get up to speed.

I'm beefing up on my PowerPoint and MS Project skills. Whee. After nearly two decades in the industry, I can't believe that I'm finally listing PowerPoint and MS Project in the Skills section of my resume. And that over time, things like C++ and OOP will fall by the wayside to be replaced by PMP and PgMP certifications. Eeep. On the plus side, it looks like all my hard-earned Dale Carnegie Communication coursework is going to come in handy now.*

One of the things that really sunk in today is that I will not be coding in my new job. This...is disturbing on many levels. I've been a coder all my career, even during the times when I was managing other people. To be in a role where writing code is not my primary responsibility is a major shift for me.

Yes, it looks like I've now truly given in to the Dark Side when I'm prevented from touching the code.

It does look like an excellent company though, with a good atmosphere and extremely bright folks. I talked with the dev team and they're a very bright bunch. Far brighter than I am - I guess that's why I'm managing them. :) All in all, I'm very excited and honoured to be a part of their team. I don't blog about my workplace but I figured praise is okay!

My mental state switching from "looking for jobs" to "between jobs waiting to start" is quite noticeable. For one thing, I'm completely and utterly exhausted today. I feel like a puppet with her strings cut. I think the stress and worry of the past month has finally caught up with me, now that I've got a job and can relax a bit. I'm excited but horribly tired. Lying in bed alternating between sleep and relearning Agile SCRUM principles isn't a bad way to spend one's day.

Lots to learn, less than a month to get up to speed. This is definitely a year of transitions. But...I'm happy and so is my sis and kids - this is also a year of blessings. Family is ultimately what matters, innit?

*Semi-private sidenote to GH and JG: if I ever end up sounding like AB, please give me a good kick to the head. This is very concerning to me! ;)

Relief

My job hunt is over and I have found a position that I am happy with. It has been a dark time for me, a period filled with doubts and fears. As some of you may know, this is a first for me in many ways. To all intents and purposes, my life is starting anew.

I wish I could say that I got the position out of sheer ability, charm and intelligence. I wish I could say that I held out for this long because I absolutely wanted the right job for me. I wish I could say all that...but it wouldn't be true. The reality is that I landed this job partly because of my work record, my charm and my ability. But more than anything else, I landed this job because I was fortunate enough to be at the right place at the right time giving the right answers to the right questions.

Not exactly the most optimal way to live one's life, having so many critical decisions dependent solely on chance.

I was talking with my sister the other night, bemoaning the fact that in my life, I have either had no trouble finding a job but had no one to cheer me on, or I had trouble finding a job but had many people cheering me on. She noted a little later that part of my difficulties stem from the fact that I'm not just looking for a job, I'm looking for a job that I can believe in.

Oh great, I'm a fanatic. :)

Truth be told, she's right. When I stop believing in my job, in the people I work with, that's when I get real unhappy. Naturally, happiness is not a sustainable state in any place of employment. But...this time I'm in management. Perhaps I can stave off the entropy a little longer.

I have been stunned and overwhelmed by the depth and breadth of support this time around. I can honestly say that I have never ever experienced it in my life. It's a nice feeling and I am deeply touched. Thank you all so much for your kind and encouraging words during this past dark time. And a special thank you for those of you who cared enough to give me a proverbial kick in the tush whenever I fell too deeply into self-pity.

I'm too horribly tired to blog much tonight. More later. :)

Limbo

There are two kinds of limbo that I know of (discounting the dance): stressful and relaxing. Relaxing limbo happens when you're on the beach at the start of your vacation, doing nothing but soaking in the sun with a tasty tropical drink by your side. Or just walking along the beach at sunset. Or losing yourself in a beautiful piece of classical music.

Stressful limbo is when you're waiting for something. Like a job offer. Which is apparently supposed to show up "either this afternoon or tomorrow morning". Generally, that's a good thing. However, there are little quirks here that I'm very unhappy about. So I'm stressed.

I generally have quite a bit of patience but this last month has eroded it quite a bit.

*sigh*

UPDATE: Well, it hasn't shown up "this afternoon". So either the job offer's not coming, or it's "tomorrow morning". Great, like I'm going to be able to sleep a wink tonight. It's driving me downright batty.

UPDATE 2: Well, it hasn't shown up "tomorrow morning" either. However, after giving a rather sharp poke at the recruiting agency, they made a verbal offer which was backed up by an official offer shortly after lunch. I've looked through it and accepted. So, I am officially not unemployed anymore but now "between jobs". The position is also middle management, so things will be quite interesting for everyone involved! And yes, God help us all. :)

Keeping up with the Joneses

This past week hasn't been a good one for me. Those of you who know me well will also know that sometimes I can be a real PitA when my perfectionism and/or competitive streak is aroused. I've always been very definitively a Type A personality for a long long time.

See, in my previous job, not everything was happiness and sunshine. It was an unusual company in that as a startup (prior to it being bought), it was a motley collection of really bright individuals. As anyone who's worked in the industry will tell you, bright doesn't necessarily mean smart. Suffice to say that everyone I worked with had their own little quirks, some of which made them quite hard to get along with. This does not absolve me from having my own little antisocial quirks either, so I truthfully lump myself with them.

One of the key characteristics of senior staff is self-confidence. You have the education, you have the experience and therefore the impossible merely take s little longer. When I was laid off, I was worried but not too worried as the market was reasonably healthy. The unspoken (and rather arrogant) assumption that I had made was that I could probably land a job faster than some of the less savoury ex-coworkers. That has proven to be a fallacy. I just found out yesterday that the three least-agreeable ex-coworkers have landed jobs and are starting work next week.

Suffice to say, this has not sat well with me and it's been a painful journey. Have I been too smug? Have I not tried hard enough? Am I simply not as good as I thought I was? Am I still employable? Am I overqualified?

Had I been my previous self, I'd be devastated. My life revolved around my work...to a large extent it still does. I'd experience various emotions, none of which would be positive.

The thing is, this new revelation has forced me (yet again) to reevaluate what is important to me. Why am I blogging this? Well, one of the points of this blog is to communicate with far-flung friends and family - this entry will either confirm your mental model of me, or cause another one to form. Regardless, it is a way for me to keep in touch.

I had to first confront my arrogance of expecting to land a job before these other folks. Since when did it become a race? I haven't a clue. Realistically, whether they land a job or not has no relevance to me directly - this is a just a blow to my ego at worst. They're not really occupying the same niche as I am in the industry nor is there a "prize" to be won if I got a job first. So why do I feel hurt and vulnerable? Simple: pride. I saw myself as being somehow better than them. Not exactly a smart, positive, caring or even realistic attitude to take but one which I just automatically assumed to be true. Hmm...I guess some bits of my old life are still haunting me. Some soul searching and moral reevaluation needs to happen, I think.

Am I trying hard enough? That's a tough one to answer. Have I been too smug? I don't think so. I haven't been blasting out resumes to every possible job yet. I'm only applying to the ones I feel I can make a clear positive contribution if I got it. I haven't really been lacking in interviews either - this past week was the only one that I didn't have any interviews at and that was partly by choice (I have my coursework to deal with) and because the poor interviewer was running for his flight and had to reschedule. I figure that maybe stepping up the effort may be in order soon...but I can look myself in the mirror and say that I have given it an honest effort. The worst thing I can do is to land a job that I'll hate - I think that's worse than being unemployed, at least while my severance lasts.

Am I simply not as good as I thought I was? Am I still employable? Equally tough questions. I honestly don't know if I'm as good as I think I am. I wish I could say yes. But I think the truthful answer is that it depends on the job. I may be very good in my areas of expertise but be abysmal at other things. I *think* I'm still employable. Leastways, I'm getting interviews at a roughly 50/50 ratio to things I'm sending out.

Am I overqualified? This is the painful one to answer. There are loads of jobs out there for juniors and intermediates. The jobs that my ex-coworkers landed? They're all junior or intermediate positions, hence my claim that we don't occupy the same niche. I have a clear idea of what I expect for compensation and I don't think it's unreasonable. But companies seem to prefer hiring more cheaper developers than a single senior one. I may have to readjust my salary expectations soon...but I really really hope not to.

Those of you who know me personally know that I left a lot of things behind earlier this year. During that time, not everyone was understanding of my situation - my city is a big city but a small town, if you know what I mean. Everyone knows everyone. When I lost my job, I sent out little feelers to my contacts in the industry. So far, none of them except for two have even bothered returning my calls. This is a radical change from before and as much as I am trying to find another reason for it, I think it has to do with me leaving my previous life behind. I think I'm finally running into the full consequences of that event. It's quite demoralizing to find what my "friends" really think of me when push comes to shove post-event.

I hate to bring this up but the whole "industry discriminates against women" thing has also been mentioned by a few friends of mine. I know the industry discriminates against women. I just never thought it'd happen to *me* - I'm still not sure I buy it. If it's true, then my disbelief is very much a stupid stick-head-in-sand attitude, isn't it? The numbers are there and I think the discrimination is genuine. I'm just trying not to go down that path. Once I start believing, truly believing that I'm being discriminated upon, I'm not sure I can ever recover from that. So I am choosing to ignore this possibility. Time will tell if if I'm right or wrong.

Complicating things further is that I'm trying to transition over to being a manager than a developer. Yes, I've done this before this time, I'm hoping to make it a permanent transition. It's hard to step away from the things I've worked for so long at. But...I'm finding that I prefer to work with people a lot more than just computers and problems. I'm not sure if the jump will work but I'm going to give it a try! My possible employers are also somewhat skeptical...but they're still interviewing me. Keep your fingers crossed for me, please?

The single indisputable fact that I have is that I am still unemployed. Regardless of my personal ruminations, that is the reality I am living with. However, I am blessed and thankful for the fact that I have a loving family and close friends who support me. Walking down the lonely road to the right job is something I must do myself - I've gone down that path many times Knowing that my sis, the kids and my friends are there to cheer me on...is not something I've *ever* experienced before. So this current chapter of jobseeking is brand new to me. I think that regardless of what happens, it will work out in the end. Maybe this is just me desperately trying to find solace in a dark time and the more cynical part of me tells me this is so. But...I have only recently discovered (through the changes in my life) something called hope. It leaves me vulnerable, yes. But I am no longer alone.

Life is worth living as long as there is hope.

Do feel free to thwap me via your regular channels if you think it's needed. :)

Freedom in restraint

When I was a small child, I used to look forward to family occasions like birthdays when my parents would get me a gift. Being a child, those moments come few and far in between.

When I graduated and got a good job, I finally had the financial wherewithal to get what I wanted. Not what I needed, mind - this was strictly a matter of wanting, not actual need.

Over time, I figured out that material gain doesn't equate to happiness, or at least permanent happiness, so I curbed my spending significantly. Now, being unemployed and all, the belt is tightened even more.

Back when I relied on my parents for financial support, a major element was anticipation. Sometimes, the weeks leading up to my birthday were the best. I've lost a lot of that over time, in the beginning because I could afford what I wanted and later on because I would figure out it's not worth getting it and the idea died stillborn. These days, the element of anticipation has returned but not in the same way. It has to do with doing more with less, so that when I *do* commit to a purchase, I know it's the best one I can make.

I'm on a minimal budget right now. One of the first and major effects is that it's forcing me to stop going to Starbucks. That alone has stopped me from vibrating in and out of phase during the day. The first couple of weeks were brutal...but I have escaped from the clutches of the Caramel Macchiato.

Secondly, it's making me consider even trivial purchases. In the past, if I'm out of pens, I'd just go and get one. These days, I have to consider the cost of it off my tiny budget. It's forced me to be more observant - which type of pen will last longer? Be more durable? More leak proof? Is this extraordinarily *ahem* anal-retentive behaviour? Yes and no. Sometimes we take for granted the small things. Remember that when you get a cheap Bic pen, someone had to have designed it years ago and that had consequences as to whether it was successful or not. It may not be important to us but it demanded at least one person's full attention at some time in the past. I rather like regaining my appreciation for good design. FYI, I settled on a Parker Jotter - it's been around for ages and they just don't design durable ballpoints (ugh) like that anymore.

Lastly, it's made me reexamine things I should have examined in the past. I'm not a big fast food fan but every now and then, I do nip into a food court to grab a bite to eat. Food portions have become ludicrously large and as a society, we have an obesity problem. Due to a constrained budget, I'm had to reconsider my actions and am now ordering off the kids menu. To my surprise, the portions are just right - I've found that the normal-sized serving is way too much. Plus, the prices are typically half that of normal orders. I've found I can have a filling (albeit fatty and unhealthy) lunch for just $2. Pricewise, you just can't beat that.

I will admit that I'm going overboard with my budgeting, that I really don't need to tighten the belt quite so much. We've been conservative with our finances and it has given us a buffer before we really have to batten down the hatches. Hopefully, knock on wood, I'll be employed soon and finances will be less of a worry. Regardless, I think I'll stick to my much smaller budget. It reduces waste, forces me to consider my spending more and it's good for the family. There really is more with less.

Alone in an imperfect world

My previous posting has generated some interesting discussion amongst my friends and I. Most of us have had some experience with online gaming, if we're not still online gamers to this day.

To be clear on this issue: no, I do not consider myself to still be an online gamer. Yes, I'm playing Tabula Rasa but it doesn't consume enough of my waking hours for it to be an obsession and I doubt it ever will. My last true online gaming experience was with Neverwinter Nights and that went bye-bye when the server my friends and I were playing on went kablooey. I'd love to get back into NWN but after a particularly nasty bit of WGA business, I now find that I'm missing the CD-Keys for HotU and SotU. Whee.

Anyhoo, the discussions I've had recently have led me to an interesting discovery, or at least a unique postulate: the isolation from online gaming is more detrimental to women than it is to men. There is no conclusion to this posting - it's merely a starting point for further discussion if you so desire.

Here's how I came to that conclusion, so bear with me as it'll take a while. We all live in an imperfect world with imperfect selves. When we go online to play, not only do we get a choice to act out our imagination on a more fantastic world that real life, we also get a chance to customize our online avatar that represents us in that game.

Look, we all have things we'd like to be better about ourselves. Some of us want to lose weight, be taller, be prettier, have more scars (don't ask - I didn't understand that part either), etc. This impacts men less than women because we tend to obsess and care more about personal appearances than men. This isn't anything bad - it's a cultural thing and it can be quite fun. Most of us learn to live with our imperfections. For example, I'd love to be able to wear white and blue well, and also be a tad taller not to mention slimmer. But I understand that these are not things I can fix easily if at all. So I learnt to live with it, as do other women with their little imperfections.

When I go online, I get to custom craft my character to be anyone she wants to be. Heck, if I wanted to, I can even cross gender lines and be a guy. The point is that not only does online interaction isolate us, it also seduces us on a different level by letting us wipe away all our imperfections at the Character Creation Screen. After a while, the online world with our perfect selves becomes more of a real home than real life itself.

I think everyone who has ever gotten into online games will know exactly what I'm talking about. It's difficult to disentangle ourselves from our perfect world - it becomes harder and harder to express ourselves in real life when we can be quite personable in our virtual worlds.

This is a problem. A big one.

When a woman loses her ability to cope with her imperfections, she tends to let herself go. I'm not saying it's right, but society isn't very tolerant of women like that. For better or for worse, our appearance matters more than it does to men.

We are seeing an increase in women gamers lately. In Japan, there are more female users of the Nintendo Wii consoles than there are male users and as such, Nintendo is shifting its marketing strategy away from traditional shooter/quest/platform games over to lifestyle apps like Wii Life, which lets you manage your diet and exercise.

I'm not sure what to think of this. Maybe it's good, maybe it's bad. Maybe it'll force a big enough change in our cultures that the importance of appearances will be downplayed. I doubt that part though.

Alone in a virtual crowd

It's been quite a while since I played any online games but I got into the beta test for Tabula Rasa recently. It looks like a nifty online game, part shooter, part magic. I'm slowly leveling my character, knowing full well it's going to get wiped when the game is officially released later this month.

The thing with it is, even though it's multiplayer and even though it's online, I don't really see much of anyone else. Excepting as players who run around and never talk. Tonight, I got stuck in an area I couldn't figure out how to get out of. Lighting was poor and I wandered around trying unsuccessfully to get out. Finally, someone else wandered into my area. I sat patiently as he consulted some NPCs (probably doing a mission/quest) then I followed him, hoping he'd know the way out.

Good idea, right? Nope.

Turns out he's lost too. I followed him around for half a minute or so before it became obvious he's lost. I tried talking to him and he never responded. So I sat in the centre of the village watching with some amusement as he ran all over the place trying to find a way out. Eventually I saw him head into an area that's a cul-de-sac. He never came out, so I assume he logged off.

Multiplayer games are meant to be *multiplayer*, as in you are expected to talk to people, interact with them. This game doesn't seem to have that interactivity, which I think is a shame. Granted, it's still in beta and given that our chars are going to be wiped, I suspect people aren't getting too attached to their chars. Still...you'd think people would talk.

*sigh*

The Internet's made people more in touch with other folks globally but in doing so, we've lost a little of our humanity. I know so many people (myself included) who form fast friendships with people on the 'net that we've never met in real life. Our natural responses are dulled because the other party never sees or hears us. You don't believe me? When was the last time that you laughed as you typed "lol" into your instant messaging conversation? Why do I say we're losing our humanity? Well, because we're not all intellect - laughing, crying, emotional responses (as opposed to cyber-emotes) are all part of who we are. Given that most forms of electronic communication have no traditional cues in them, we're losing our ability to interact with other people as human beings. Why do you think smilies were invented? It's to encode an extra channel of communication during electronic messaging that acts like the context we get in a face-to-face meeting - smiles, frowns, anger, sadness, etc.

We already gather in virtual chat rooms and adventure together in cyberworlds. We are in touch with more people on a regular basis than before the Internet era. But that connection is incomplete; it's an intellectual connection. Our minds will touch...but we are still alone.

That's part of the reason why I'm rejecting telecommuting job offers. I need an office environment to survive. I need to see people. I need to see smiles and frowns, enthusiasm and boredom, happiness and anger. These are honest emotions. Not smilies.

Popular sci-fi was wrong. Technology will destroy us not through self-sentient robots or machines turning on us. It will destroy us by isolating us from one another.

If you have a chance, smile at someone. The way things are going, it may be the only smile s/he will ever get in the entire day. And that makes me sad.

Inside out

I've had quite a few interesting jobs in my career and for most of them, I've been your typical never-saw-sunlight software developers. Software developers are an interesting lot, if you didn't work in the industry. There's a lot of us with very diverse personalities. The majority of us relate quite well to technologies and computers.

When it comes to other people, most of us don't relate as well.

Programming takes a certain quality for one to be successful. Logical thinking, most certainly. Training, education, knowing the systems and languages you're operating on, definitely. But the best developers are the ones with that special spark of curiousity mixed in with anal-retentive attention to detail; these are the folks who can code themselves out of tight corners with seeming ease. They generally hit the ceiling at around senior developer or system architect. That's as high as they want to go and they make excellent money.

I'm not one of those people. I'd like to think I have some talent in that area to have survived thus far. While I may have extreme attention to detail, I'm really not all that motivated to spend sleepless nights poring over the nitty-gritty details of a system over and over again. I'd do it for a project, certainly. But I have no innate curiousity to do because I want to.

You see, I'm an accidental computer scientist. I actually *like* people and want to interact with them. I once took the Birkmann personality test for career guidance. I had a very unusual result in that I had not 3 dominant traits (the norm) but 6. The scorer mentioned that while I had an analytical mind, he felt that my strongest fields were where I worked with people. On the MBTI, I've always waffled between Introvert and Extrovert - the scoring difference between the two have always been just one or two points for me.

Which brings me to the present. I've been job hunting for 2.5 weeks now and all of the positions that I have interviewed with thus far have been for developer spots. Tomorrow's interview is a bit of a stretch for me: I'm going after a product manager position. Knowledge of the technologies involved is vital but I'm not going to be coding at all if I get this job.

I'm not sure how I feel about it. I've hit the career ceiling - I'm a senior developer. That's as high as I'll go unless I become a systems architect...or if I join the Dark Side and go into management, which is what a product manager is. I've been in various leadership positions in the past, topping out as a project manager. I had a lot of fun doing that. The highlights of my career have been quite evenly split between technical achievements (coding) and team management. If I step away from my core competency of coding, I may never ever be able to return to it and be stuck in managementland.

This is all quite premature, of course. I haven't got the job and tomorrow's just the 2nd round of interviews. Part of me is excited but most of me is scared stiff. Not because of the interview but because of the chance I may actually end up getting the job.

Transitioning between one state to another is never easy. Trust me on this one, I know. ;) I have no desire to become a system architect so either I enter management or learn to live with what I am now. I know I'll get frustrated if I stay as a senior developer, so management is the only way to go. Time to move the dial from Introvert to Extrovert once more.

But I'll miss coding dearly. :(

Flushing the cache

This is going to be a serious post and will probably be very confusing for those of you who do not know the whole story. If you get confused, my apologies.

As children we are allowed the whole range of emotions. We laugh, we cry, we love and we hate all with perfect innocence. As we grow and come to know more about the world, we start losing our innocence and our emotions start getting suppressed. This is needed for society to function - we cannot survive as a species if everyone gave in to their hatred or fear.

Crying is seen as a negative emotion. We are conditioned to not cry from an early age, that it solves nothing, that if we really wanted our parents could give us a real reason to cry (truly diabolical logic, that). I'm not sure I entirely agree that it solves nothing. I agree that it doesn't solve the root cause for the crying. But it does make one feel better. Something to do with crying triggering the release of endorphins.

For women, it's more socially acceptable to cry but not in public places. There are consequences if you cry at your workplace. But generally, we gals are cut some slack if we do cry. When we see a girlfriend in pain, we hold her close and cry with her. Does it solve anything? No, not really. What it does, however, is to let her know that she is *not* alone, that someone is willing to share her burden, to face the pain with her. It keeps us sane. The cathartic release, the shared experience...it bonds us together deeper than words can ever express.

I had to suppress a large part of my femininity for a long time to function in my environment. Succeeding in a hard scientific field where women are still rare even now carried a price, one that I didn't think long enough or hard enough on before making it. There is a perception, almost a norm in the sciences that femininity is weak and an undesirable trait. Women certainly the minority and stuck out like sore thumbs. I made compromises on who I was - a big mistake for which I am still paying for. I had to relearn how to cry recently and have since rediscovered an inner untouchable core of calmness and peace. Being able to cry is cathartic release. Gods, I'm glad I'm a gal.

For men, crying is a no-no in most circumstances. For a guy to cry at work...he might as well stick a "Kick me, I'm weak!" sign on himself. Men have backed themselves into a tight corner, IMHO. There is no cathartic release available. Men carry a lifetime of hurt with them. We often hear about male primacy and male dominance in our society, about how men run everything. We never really hear about the terrible cost they bear to keep the facade of a stiff upper lip. Good grief, it must be dreadful to have to somehow reconcile any troubles you have without help. All alone in your skull. Perhaps if you're lucky, you have someone to listen to you. Usually this is not an option though. Gals, remember this: do not take for granted the strong arms that embrace and comfort us.

To my dear male friends out there, I'm not asking you to learn to cry. I suspect the very thought is abhorrent to you. But...do consider not keeping it all in you. Find someone you trust to talk to instead of burying it deep inside. Find a release...uh, preferably a non-violent one. :) This will allow you to bend under stress instead of breaking. We often hear of the concept that if bad things happen, there's more than enough blame to spread around. But what if we looked at it slightly differently, from a positive viewpoint? What if your personal pain *is* meant to be shared but by those who love you enough to bear it with you, instead of your tormentors? Visiting pain and suffering within upon your enemies simply puts you into a vicious cycle that can't end well. Having someone who loves you enough to willingly walk with you through darkness...is something you will never forget.

I'm not doing a very good job of conveying the point but I have discovered that there is strength in vulnerability. And it has set me free.

Review: Elizabeth, the Golden Age

My sis and I took a delightful few hours off last Saturday to watch "Elizabeth, the Golden Age" at the local theatre. I don't think it's going to do very well - despite it being the day after opening, we were virtually alone in the big theatre. There was at most 10 of us there in a room with enough seating for 100+.

This movie covers the time when Elizabeth I was around 50 years of age, ending shortly after the conclusion of Drake's naval action against the Spanish Armada. Yes, it's still very much focused on the whole Catholics vs. Protestants angle but that reflected the politics of the time.

It was a good show, better paced than its predecessor. Through association with my sis, who is a world-class competitive costumer with international awards on her mantel, I have developed an appreciation for good period costume design. And this show has some truly beautiful costuming! We compared notes after the show was over and my sis was all abuzz with incorporating some of the designs into her future costumes.

Me, I'm just frustrated that because of the differences in skin shading, I can't wear over half the outfits in that show even if I wanted to. I wish I could wear blue and white. *sigh* Having said that...I'm completely won over by rich burgundy and cream, which *is* something I can wear. A nice period dress with huge hoopy gauze wing-like shoulder extensions and high Elizabethan collars - oh my! I'm still unsure if the attendant cost of having to stuff oneself into a corset to fit those impossibly narrow waistlines is really worth it though.

For the guys, in case you're bored/lost/don't care/already asleep from the previous paragraph, I think this sums it up quite well, yes?

Regardless, I'm going to have to get the sewing machine out and bug my dear sis into helping me make an Elizabethan dress for sci-fi/fantasy conventions once I'm employed again and have the cash to buy the materials and pattern. Given that the ladies of the court at the time required ladies-in-waiting to get dressed, there's definitely a design challenge to be overcome. Not only do I need to be able to dress unassisted, I also need to be able to still fit into the driver's seat of my car to get to the convention. The lower edge of the dress will require anti-static spraying prior to wearing or else it'll get filthy before I even step out the house. Most importantly, I have to remember to sew a small invisible pocket somewhere so I can stuff my keys and ID - Elizabethan women do not generally carry purses. Ah...the logistics of fashion! It'll be worth it though...

Costuming aside, little details were eating away at me as I watched the show. Once more, historical accuracy got tossed aside in favour of the storyline. I positively detested the fact that they took Sir Walter Raleigh's personal history and melded it with Sir Francis Drake's action at the Battle of Gravelines and the subsequent defeat of the Spanish fleet. That and the complete absence of fleet cohesion shown. It looked like the CGI department took a couple of ship models, cloned them like crazy and kaplonked them on a watery tableau. There was no hint of formations. None. I'm assured that they do move during a naval engagement unlike the bobbing in place with no lateral movement shown for most of that scene. Neither do ship captains have the luxury of conferring upon the flagship during a naval battle. I'm a little uncertain on this one, but the size of the cannons shown seemed wrong. However, they did get a lot of other things right, credit where credit's due. They also do engage each other at suicidally short range as shown. The English ships were mainly swift-moving frigate-like ships, roughly Golden Hind sized. The Spanish had mostly galleon-sized transports, which were entirely appropriate for a naval invasion of Albion. No Napoleonic-era ships of the line here - yay for some accuracy!

What? Simply because I'm a girl doesn't mean I've never studied naval history nor played Wooden Ships Iron Men or Close Action you know. :P

Cate Blanchett did a pretty credible job as the queen. Geoffrey Rush wasn't as dynamic as he was in the first movie but carried himself well enough. Clive Owen was quite dashing as Sir Walter Raleigh. Samantha Morton did flash her neck a lot - is there any wonder her gaolers wanted to do something about it?

All in all not a half bad movie despite the deliberate mangling of history. It was worth a full-priced ticket but not worth seeing again after that except on DVD. It's a Hollywood production but a restrained one (thank goodness!) - if you want a more historically accurate treatment of that era, please watch HBO's production of Elizabeth I starring Dame Helen Mirren.

Inner happiness

I'm very stressed out being unemployed. Yes, I still have severance to burn and I've got interviews (so far, knock on wood). I'm still stressed nonetheless by the whole uncertainty of it all, as to when I'll find another job and how much it pays.

It's affecting my family despite my best efforts. Both my sis and the kids know I'm stressed to the nines - there are hugs aplenty to take the edge away. Have I mentioned how fortunate I am to have such a family? I'm deeply touched by their love and caring. Without them I am lost. It doesn't mean I'm not stressed...but for the few precious heartbeats when I am in a hug, I know that I am safe.

Nightmares are not a fun thing. Their frequency has increased sharply since I stopped working. I had a good chat with my sis just a couple of hours ago. I have been a provider and protector of my family for so long that it's now an indelible part of me. Not having a job, not being able to provide for my family is causing me deep tangible pain. For those of you who are Asimov fans, this whole "getting laid off for the first time" episode has the enormity of a Seldon Crisis for me.

Having said all of that, I had a chance to step out today for a little bit of time with my friends. I got there, stepped out the car and froze as I saw myself in the reflection of one of the large windows. The sun was shining brightly, its gentle warmth hugging my shoulders. There was a slight breeze caressing and ruffling my skirt and legs. I was struck by a deep profound sense of rightness, that no matter what happened, things were going to be okay because I'm who I am.

I feel guilty for finding such inner peace and happiness. I've always been quite even in my emotions - if I'm stressed, I'm stressed all the way through and if I'm happy, I'm happy all the way through. I've never, ever had a core of inner happiness and calm before now. To be honest, I haven't a clue what to do about it. I feel deeply guilty that I'm happy given that I'm not a provider any longer.

But I can't forget the warmth of the sun, the caress of the wind and the quiet happiness of being just myself, nothing more and nothing less. So this is what it feels like to be normal. :)

An uncertain stand

Those of you who know me would have also probably heard about how I stuck by my division and quit in protest a decade ago now. At that time, the Canadian office that I was working in was being shut down and everyone was offered either a transfer with a full relocation package to another country or a severance package. Suffice to say, practically all of us took the relocation package and a few months after they had the chance to suck our brains dry, they closed the division and laid everyone off except us three project managers. It was a distinctly premeditatively evil act, getting folks to transfer to a foreign country, sucking their product knowledge from them then stranding them. My co-workers and friends who were laid off weren't being treated gently either - they were escorted off the premises by security guards and were told their belongings would be put in boxes outside the building at the end of the day. I was the only one of the product managers who quit, walking away from almost a quarter million dollars of stock options in the process.

At the time I was quite proud of my stance. Today, I'm not so sure - yes, I have a feel-good story to tell but wouldn't a quarter mil be better?

I had an extensive interview with a local company this week, multiple rounds of being poked and grilled. I was quite impressed with the setup until I got shown into the founder's office for a presentation on what the business model was. What I got shown is confidential and I'm not discussing it here. However, while they stand to make millions perfectly legally, what they're doing is morally ambiguous at best and outright wrong at worst.

I was quite shaken when I stepped out, both from the grilling and from the shock of knowing that these folks exist. I had a long chat with my sis who was very supportive of whatever I decided.

They responded today, letting me know I wasn't a good fit for them. I have to admit that while I'm a little depressed dealing with the whole rejection thing, a large part of me is glad that I didn't have to make a decision whether to accept or not.

I'm not saying that I'm Ms. Goody Two-Shoes - far from it. If my family were starving, I'd do business with the devil to get them fed. However, while my severance lasts, I have some freedom to make choices that I'm comfortable with.

My basic personal tenet is that whatever I do, I still have to be able to look myself in the mirror in the morning. If I had gone with these folks, I'd be questioning whether I can. I'm disappointed and depressed because I didn't get the job and it was a *cool* job - think of it as being akin to the officer who got to push the big red Fire button on the Death Star. Joking aside...I'm glad not to have to question my humanity.

To blog or not to blog

Thank you for your responses on the Sanity Defence post recently. To answer some of your questions:

1. No, this blog was created to let friends and family know what's going on in my life as well as that in my family (where appropriate and safe). If all else fails, the phone calls every now and then work quite well. After all, we're still in touch, aren't we?

2. No, I haven't started the other blog about my Condition. To cut a long story short, while I'm still helping other folks with my Condition out, I'm starting to move away from that community as the treatments take hold. I live a semi-normal life now, mostly free of pain. I intend to move and have a normal life soon.

3. No, I'm not going to blog about that - I know you're saying it in jest (and you know who you are, Mr. B) but kindly grow up.

4. Yes, I still journal. This blog isn't my journal. My journal is private and not accesible online.

5. No, I'm not going to start another blog on an unrelated topic. Too much like work. :)

In the final analysis, I'm going to provisionally plan for blog deletion around the Christmas hols, unless if I find this still contributes value.

Again, thank you all for your interest.

Thanksgiving 2007

Well, Thanksgiving has come and gone for us Canadians. The kids are upstairs, snoring quietly with their bellies full of turkey. My sis is upstairs as well, proud that her turkey was delicious. Me, I'm just thankful that my side dishes didn't cause food poisoning and was edible. Two for two, yay!

It's weird - in previous years, I'd be all stressed out and definitively not thankful given that I've been laid off. Today, well...all I had to do was look around the dinner table at my family to continue knowing that I am still living in the blessed times.

I'm infinitely thankful that I still have my family and their love - that's all I truly need.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

Sanity Defence

A dear albeit very literal-minded friend :) of mine asked a few days back as to when the "sanity" will be addressed in this blog, much less defended. A fair question, even though it was spoken in jest. Still, here goes...

The "sanity defence" is, of course, a play on the oft-abused insanity defence. In my case, given that I have the now often mentioned Condition, this blog is a venting as well as informational/communication conduit for my far-flung but precious friends.

The "sanity" part will get addressed as soon as I find any of it - don't hold your breath! Seriously though, those of you who have known me will probably have been taken aback when you found out I had the Condition and which course of treatment I have decided to take. If nothing else, this blog will reassure you of the fact that yes, I'm still the nutty eccentric anal-retentive friend you used to know. There are changes (of course) but hopefully for the better.

The "defence" part is not to plead for sanity but is exactly what the tagline says, to keep the everyday madness at bay. Let's not mince words - my life had not been normal by any stretch of the imagination. Paradoxically, it's far more normal now than it had been before I started treatment.

Which brings me to something I've been mulling over for some time now - this is addresed to the friends and family I had originally started this blog for. Is this blog really necessary any longer? I mean, I do call all of you at least twice a year to keep in touch. That's more effort than most of you put up - you know who you are! *grumble* If anything, I think it's getting obvious that this blog is approaching its end of life in terms of usefulness. Things are normal enough now that I can quite easily slip into the stream of everyday madness with nary a ripple.

I'll be keeping this up for a bit but I suspect I will cancel the blog around Christmas-ish. Sound good?

Relativistic schedules

Today is my first real day of unemployment, the date that my former company told me I was officially no longer needed because my facility had been closed. I had always assumed that unemployed people had huge gobs of time. I suspect that is still true for some folks. In my case, I'm finding that I have a heck of a lot to do now that I'm jobless as opposed to when I had a job - it's odd, my schedule this week is filling up quite fast.

I suspect that this is coming about because I'm pretty stressed out about it and have been packing my schedule with things to do in order to remedy that situation. If I'm not careful, I'm going to burn out...while unemployed.

Yes, you can actually overwork even when you're a jobless bum. Sad, isn't it?

Oh wait, what's missing from my schedule these days? Ah, right - I have no stupid meetings nor pre-meeting meetings (yes they do exist - no joke). Maybe *that's* why I'm more productive.

The market doesn't seem too great when looked at closely - there's tons of jobs out there but they're biased towards younger and less experienced developers who require lower salaries. It's quite depressing, really.

Ah well, time to continue the job hunt...

Anticipation

I'm very goal oriented. How goal oriented? So much so that I had milestones as to when things were going to happen since I was 11 years old. How successful was I? I married less than a year late from my original plans and had kids 2 years earlier than planned.

Then the Condition hit and the plan went bye-bye.

Regardless, I'm still very goal-oriented. I wake up everyday with a clear idea of what to achieve; external aids like PersonalBrain help me manage these goals. I've never really been laid off before, so these past few days have been interesting. Nevertheless, I still wake up with clear goals to achieve. Except that as of today, they have devolved into a non-quantifiable goal of "find another job before money runs out". I know when I'm going to be in financial trouble - the unquantifiable aspect is in the "when do I find another job?"

Don't get me wrong, there are things to do, kids to take care of, resumes to send out, old friends to go see now that I have the time...but there isn't a single, integrated framework like employment that ties everything together. It's like writing in lined journals everyday and suddenly finding no ruled lines to follow - writing starts getting disorderly and slanting every which way.

I am attempting to build structure from existing pieces, like taking care of the kids and my now-sole-breadwinner sister. Like taking the time to retrain in the tech areas I never had the time to study. Like focusing on my astronomy course. Like doing all the volunteer work I had wished to do more of.

All of it is happening and I'm busy. I was just informed of my site closure on Tuesday, handed in my keys on Wednesday and I'm pulling out of my tailspin and will be lobbing resumes tomorrow or tonight. I'm doing all that I can to remain sane and am moving forward.

But I lack a medium term goal and that's deeply disturbing. It's weird, I have this book on order from Amazon - it's an astrophysics textbook. It's huge, it's expensive and it's apparently very very dense. I ordered after my midterm when I realized my current course's textbook was useless (a sentiment echoed by my classmates) but before I was laid off. It added an element of anticipation in my now-disturbed routine; I know something's coming and I look forward to it.

It just shipped about half an hour ago. Nuts. There goes my element of anticipation.

I obviously have quite a bit to go in developing a new life paradigm that insulates me as best as I can from the vagarities of employment. Time to start a new Brain on my PB4, I think...

Calculating education (part 4, final + 1)

A short post: yes, they *did* fix the keyboard for the HP 50G. It's a marked improvement. Also, VERSION doesn't show HP 49G+, it correctly displays HP 50G. The pleather case seems a little smaller than the HP 49G+'s, which makes it a bit hard to close.

Other than that, I'm loving it. No missed keys yet!

Surprise, surprise...

Ah, one of the joys of being unemployed is that you have gobs of time on your hands. Between doing my coursework, job hunting and generally trying to stop my brain (no, not my PersonalBrain, the *other* brain, the squishy one) from turning to mush, I found this test and took it:

Your Score: Wizard

22% Combativeness, 33% Sneakiness, 100% Intellect, 30% Spirituality

Brilliant! You are a Wizard!

Wizards are spells-casters who study powerful arcane magic. While Wizards tend to be pretty fragile, some of those spells can pack quite a punch. Unlike Clerics, Wizards aren't as good at fixing people as they are at breaking them, so watch where you toss that fireball�

Your most distinctive trait is your intelligence. You're probably well learned and logical, if perhaps a bit fragile.

Link: The RPG Class Test written by MFlowers on OkCupid

Will someone either please give me a job or shoot me before I start watching daytime soaps?

p.s. On a related note, do go read this hilarious sendup of RPG character costuming at a very nifty webcomic, Fear the Boot - don't forget the commentary after the strip, which brought some laughter into my day.