Non-Tech

I have named my office “Fort Impostor” and this is my…manifesto. “The Fraud Police are the imaginary, terrifying force of ‘real’ grown-ups who you believe – at some subconscious level – are going to come knocking on your door in the middle of the night, saying: We’ve been watching you, and we have evidence that you have NO IDEA WHAT YOU’RE DOING. You stand accused of the crime of completely winging it, you are guilty of making shit up as you go along, you do not actually deserve your job, we are taking everything away, and we are TELLING EVERYBODY.” Amanda Palmer, The Art of Asking; or, How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Let People Help ...

I found out after the fact that my bully from grade school died. He was not well liked by most people, if I remember correctly, but I was surprised at the outpouring of emotion online when his death was announced. A lot of years have passed in the interim and in hindsight, I suspect there were other factors at play. Perhaps he’d changed. Perhaps he didn’t grow up to be the insolent prick I knew him as. But that doesn’t change my feelings. His treatment of me (and others) affected my self-esteem for years. ...

Gotta Catch ‘Em All!

*Now, devotees may argue that one sport or game is inherently better than another. For me, sport is actually a chance for us to have other human beings push us to excel.*Robin Williams as John Keating, Dead Poets Society (1989) If this blog somehow survives me and is read sometime in the future, I would be remiss if I didn’t include an entry today. Last night I watched the Cleveland Cavaliers become the first major sports team in Cleveland to win a championship in my lifetime. ...

I had to be part of someone else’s bad day, and it sucked. Please keep confidential, unknown to at this time. Meeting is scheduled for 9:00 tomorrow, in the conference room. Please have someone get his laptop shortly after 9:00 and disable him from the system. Please also have someone discreetly gather his personal items from his work area and bring them to the conference room as quickly as possible. ...

In November 2009 I started a journal to help myself deal with yet another car problem. Since then, I have added other writings to the journal and tried to make it a more full compendium of my digital journaling. But it started with a car problem. Not just any car problem, but, at the time, the latest in a long line of car problems that was slowly squeezing my sanity. Hell, re-read some of these blog posts and see how often the car is the subject of any particular entry. That damned Saturn stole a lot of my life over the last 13 years. ...

Ever have a really bad day? Or a bunch of bad days in a row? Me too. I’ve masked the names to protect the guilty. For a very long time I have been aware that stress can take a toll on your health. But in my experience, it’s never been immediate like it has lately. It started this past weekend with an on-call nightmare: I got two calls about Asterisk, (not my specialty) on Saturday. One guy just needed it started. He had rebooted his machine and now it didn’t work. Easy fix. But the call ruined my lunch. By the time I was done my frozen pizza was almost frozen again. ...

After it was all over, I knew I was going to have to write about it. I don’t know why. Perhaps I like re-reading my miserable days? Maybe there’s something inside of me that feels it necessary to document these things? My therapist asked me once why I write about my problems and then keep the results? Why don’t I write about them, then throw them away? I don’t know. Maybe that’s a good idea. ...

St Charles of Thanksgiving the patron saint of the forgotten holiday presents A Thanksgiving poem, in free verse. Give me your turkey, your stuffingYour extended family yearning for free foodRefuse thy retail temptationsOn this most holy day of feastingand footballand beer While today ushers in the great holiday seasonLet us not forget the reason we gather togetherand it’s not for great pricesdeep discountsor doorbusters Breaking bread with thy familyis rare enough these daysToday is the dayto stop and take a breathand relax ...

Posted on Facebook 2012-12-20 In light of the fact that tomorrow might be the last day of earth, I wanted to take this time to apologize and explain a number of things that I’ve been keeping inside for many years. Just in case tomorrow is NOT the last day of earth, I am keeping the list intentionally vague. You know who you are. 1974: As it turns out, it wasn’t cheese. 1975: You can hold your breath or vomit. Not both. 1978: Some poop isn’t squishy. 1981: Spandex. 1983: “Poco from Me-hi-co” really does wish you Happy New Year! 1984: socks are for feet only. 1985: Never smell found underpants. 1986: A rotten fart in a hot car can make you lose consciousness. 1987: Chickenpox on your balls is only funny for a minute. 1989: I swear it’s in that place I put that thing that time. 1990: I put a spell on you, and I’m scared that it actually worked. 1991: I know what you were doing, and I told everyone except you. 1993: Some poop isn’t squishy. 1996: Apparently, sometimes I will do it just for the money. 1998: You were right. I should have kept running. 1999: I was counting on being killed in the Y2K disaster. 2006: The lesbians LIED! 2009: Don’t keep it in your sock drawer. It’s the first place they look. 2010: I never liked them anyway. 2012: Don’t die without confessing all these things.