Like, WAAAY Too Thin

This is going to be quick and dirty, which will explain why everything is short and filthy. My place of employment has a set number of people doing tasks. Recently, my favorite manager found a new, better job in a faraway state, one of my co-workers, key in his ability to help pick up missed slack was flat-out fired, and a last coworker saw these signs and jumped ship. We are at skeleton crew numbers here, and that skeleton is missing an arm. There is a lot of stress and an excess of work on the horizon. I'm spread thin. I'm fucked.

But on the plus side, I work hourly.

-The0

Herzeleid

Today I found out some monumental news, for me anyway. My most beloved band, Rammstein, the kings of depraved brutality, are actually coming to the US! One show only, December 11th, New York City, in Madison Square Garden. It's going to be spectacular! Fire and explosions, German metal, and none to soon. It's been nearly a decade since they last visited, and us fans have been chomping at the bit the get them back here in the US. It's a huge deal in the US fan community.

The last time I saw them live was on the Mutter World Tour, at the Pageant on July 12th, 2001. This was my first concert, and it really set the bar for every show I have since attended. I was bombarded with strange images, smells, feelings. Ingenious costumes, complete with lights and flares to fit the opening song of Mein Herz Brennt. I felt what it was like to be crushed against my fellow fan for the closest glimpse I could get to the band. Maniacal acts of pyrotechnics filled the entire auditorium with fear. This particular scene stays branded in my memory forever.

Till had just started the "flaming metal jacket" act, when something went wrong. His leg caught aflame, which made stagehands run out to get the metal garment off of him, before more damage could be done. Flake left and reappeared with a fire extinguisher, which he promptly discharged at Till. He burst into a massive fireball. Over and again Flake kept firing, and the flames grew larger. Before we knew it, Till was curled on the stage, badly burnt and smoldering. Someone behind me shouted "Somebody call 911!" Shaking, Till stands up. His hand reaches up to the bottom of his charred face, and peels a mask upwards and off. Perfectly fine, Till resumes the song.

This kind of showmanship is the most extreme possible statement of a band's art. Madison Square Garden is going to be a landmark in metal history. I couldn't be more excited!

And I can't go.

It's heart-rending. The show takes place the night before the largest event of the year at my place of work. We call in volunteers just to keep up with everything. No one gets this day off. No one. The show would ostensibly end approximately 3 hours before that hell-shift begins. There's no way to get back from New York to St. Louis in that amount of time. Going to this show, this personal world-changing experience, and keeping my job, a partial bane of my existence, are mutually exclusive.

I know it's just a concert, and in these times it's important to be stably employed, but a lot of people misunderstand how important this band is for me. They were my soundtrack to high school. They were there for my first girlfriend, my first breakup, and my first exploration into the real world. They were my first concert ever. This band is as important to me, as the Beatles were to modern music. Yeah, it's like that. I'm not the biggest fan, but I am an active fan. The petitions, fan letters, the records sales, everything paid off; we convinced them that there was just enough of a fan base here in the States to bring them back one last time, and now I can't go.

I have been planning for this for years, and it breaks my heart that I have to make the responsible decision. However, what will be, will be. I am ecstatic that they are coming back, even if it's for one last show. I'm joyful that they remembered us, and that they decided to put in the kind of effort it takes to put on this show. I'm devastated that I can't go, but I'm very happy that some can.

Danke Schön and ROCK ON, Rammstein!!!!

-The0

Long Day, Short Temper

Whoever said it is always darkest before the dawn is full of horse piss. I was heading off to work at an ACTUAL obscene hour today (4:30 am) and I could see the sun's hateful fucking rays starting to lick the horizon. Things will usually give a sign that they are getting better, and today I will not see a fucking single one of those signs. I'm not even going to see the sun at all today. I'm calling back to a post where people can't do their job. Guess who picks up the slack? Your local favorite cross-bearer.

My overtime is ridiculous, though.

-The0

Ridiculously Behind

Have you ever noticed how time seems to go faster when it's the last thing you want/need it to do? For example, you have 12 years worth of work to do, and 15 minutes in which to do it. You sneeze, and then you're late, running behind and doing everything on the fly. I feel like that lately. My weblog is sadly suffering for the time being because of this fact.

They say if you're early to bed, early to rise, it'll make you healthy, wealthy, and wise. Late to sleep, late to wake, makes a man hard to break I think. Harder circumstances has tried to bring me down, and the fact of the matter is I just won't freaking let it. I have too much work to do.

I'm not to proud to turn down help on anything when it's offered. Not anymore. I have very little experience soliciting help though. That stated, well, I'll just follow my usual form and blurt it out.

Following is a small list of projects which with I could use some assistance:

• Zombie Walk, scheduled for October 23rd.
• Reclamation of my living area, sooner than later.
• Destruction of my alcohol collection, as soon as possible.
• Undisclosed dream car project, before oil runs out.
• Instrument practice, whenever possible.
• Video gameage, whenever possible.
• Work tomorrow, Too soon.

Yeah, I may be biting off more than I can chew.

-The0

Can't get it from Radishes, either.

A couple of weeks ago I had my debit card number stolen. I was woken up early on a day off to a call from my bank, asking about several large purchases. I had just gotten paid the night before, but I had not yet deposited the money. Some one, through one of my online transactions, I must assume, had gotten a hold of my card number and tried to make a bunch of, get this, Apple related purchases. I of course denied all of these charges, had the card cancelled, and began a very broke fortnight.

Seriously though, it's clear that these guys have no idea who the people from whom they steal are. This thing got nipped in the bud faster than I can pour a drink after my work day. Sadly, he (assumed gender) had already drained my bank account with purchases related to overpriced electronics. That's where all this beauty lies.

1. You're not going to get blood from a turnip. I had next to nothing to give, and your stupid ass tried to steal everything I had at the bottom on my fiscal cycle. Moron.
2. Really? Apple? REALLY? The only online purchases I made in the first place, from which you could have stolen my card number were were for purchases diametrically OPPOSED to Apple. Someone's got a little problem recognizing patterns, huh? This is risky information, I know, but I don't think you're stupid enough to try this twice.
3. By cancelling the card, refuting the purchases, and sifting through enough tape to get through it, I have completely voided your fraudulent purchases. It takes more effort to overwrite yours, but guess what? Your effort was actually for naught now. You've been cancelled out. How's that feel, weakling?

I'm much more careful with my (well-protected) card now, and all in all, I'm wiser and safer for this experience. Suck and fuck it, slacker!

-The0

Monthly Report 2

Well, there's not a lot to say. I'm alive, I'm very frustrated at work, but the bills are under control, mostly. This says to me that I must be treading water quite well, but I much prefer to swim. I'm actually not fond of swimming, come to think of it. I wonder what the metaphor for getting completely out of the pool is.

My good friend Ben is visiting right now, and it's nice to have company after a long day of work. Someone with whom to share a beer and play video games. He decided to extend his visit to cover both of my days off, so we get to spend some good time hanging out.

The leader of the band, Kurt, and his wife celebrated a birthday together recently. That was fun to attend. Good beer, good times.

The amount of overtime I have been getting recently is astounding, and makes for quite a bit extra in the bank. I was thinking about maybe getting another bike, a stylish one, or upgrading the old computer here. We'll see how that pans out. It goes pretty tantamount against the teachings of Dave Ramsey, a financial makeover guy I've been reading from lately. However, if this suck is going to suck like it sucks, then I want to have some fun at some point.

End Monthly Report 2.

-The0

The Eagle Chicks

As I am quite short on time lately, and tired of being so behind in my writing, I'm cutting the next few entries to short records. I'm more sorry to me than I am to you for this.

I had the rare chance to see The Eagles and The Dixie Chicks live recently. It was a gift from Dr. Girlfriend's awesome family, and circumstance could not have been more against me. I requested the day off roughly 8 weeks in advance, and due to being very suddenly shorthanded at work, not only did I work a double shift the previous day, but I was called in to cover the following day, while still getting that evening off. The idiotically optimistic way to look at this is "At least they are relying on me." More on that in a later post.

I was a zombie for the first hour of the show, which sadly meant that I couldn't really appreciate the Dixie Chicks as well as I should have liked. They had a very good sound for a live performance, but something was off. I later noticed that the singer (Natalie) had shaved off all of her hair. The most popular speculation is that she did it for a Make-A-Wish Foundation girl. Good of her, to give that kind of connection to the kid for the entire tour.

I was never much of an Eagles fan, but it was a very impressive display. I was glad to see talented saxophonists accompanying a classic band as such. Don Henley is apparently the only original component to that band left, or at least the most household-y name of them. They played their old stuff, Hotel California, then their new stuff, which I in no way recognized. They finished with Takin' It Easy, and then the show ended. They were just great on stage. I'm pretty certain I can't be the only one who thought of Bill Nighy's character from Love, Actually when I saw Don Henley. I have a few photos from the event, which I suppose I took for posterity's sake, but they came out well enough. I still got to make the event, and my life is fuller for it.

NEVER miss out on a big event simply because you are fucking exhausted. Buy an energy drink, and you can sleep when you're dead.

-The0

Aeroplane

Well, this is going to be a little fun.

I’m sitting at a near abandoned airport gate, waiting to board the smallest public flight in my life. Faint muzac plays just barely audible over the whir of the air conditoning. It has been so long since I was last in an airport I had forgotten to wear easily removable shoes. Between work, sleep deprivation, and general excitement for this trip, I decided the first thing I had to do once I had found my gate was get some caffeine in me. This was a daunting task, it turned out. They have machines with card readers, but it seems they don’t like to work without a cell connection to their mainframe, I suppose. Undeterred, I went to an ATM, and withdrew a bit of cash. With bills too large to be accepted by the machine, I tried to make change out of a machine which did not want to work with me either. Frustrated, I went to the nearest actual Starbuck's kiosk, expecting them to tell me that my money was no good either. Fortunately, I was able to walk away with a large frappucino.

Waiting for the boarding to occur, I made a single serving friend with a fellow passenger, on his way to pick up a truck. A mystery man sits in the back of the aircraft, and a woman just across from my SSF, presumably a native of my destination, Kirksville, Missouri. We are flying in a six seater dual engine aircraft, a Piper Navajo, model pa31-350. We have leveled off at 8150 feet, flying at a steady 150 knots. The lovely thing is as I stare as these little black keys, we are actually flying low enough to catch glimpses of the earth through the sporadic cloud cover. We must still be closer to St. Louis, because I either just saw some sort of refinery, or the Science Center.

This is a multipurpose trip which happily came together. Barely. My best friend, mentioned in a recent post, has finished his education at AT Stills University. His life is progressing and happily bringing him back to St. Louis, for the time being. I was there to help move him to Kirksville, and now I am en route to help move him back. I’m excited for it. On the way back to StL, we are going to stop through our college town, and of course, see a couple of the important alma mater sights, and coincidentally, the old bike shop. As a gift to my astounding Dr. Girlfriend, I spent some of my recent superfluous overtime earnings on an Electra Boney Finger 3i. Electra is one of the last companies that actually builds a quality cruiser bike in the United States, and it so happens that not only am I a fan of Electra, but my mechanic is a dealer of them (this might be a causal relationship, come to think of it.) As mentioned earlier, I will happily do my business through him for the rest of my life. Hell, if I have enough left by the end of this biking season, I may just purchase another cruiser for myself. They are quite baddass, and pictures will follow. Oh yes, there will be pics.

Hell of a bit of turbulence when you’re in something this size. Not my first time on a small aircraft, just my first time on a small land plane, not a sea plane. Experiences from my trips on those will come later. This trip nearly didn’t happen because I was scheduled to work almost all the way until the wire's edge of timing. I was barely able to get to the airport with time to spare for my check-in. I’m quite glad to be flying. The ticket cost was a fraction of the gas cost, and the transit time just over a third of what it would have been if I had driven. We’re beginning our descent now, after a 50 minute flight, at 175 knots, -650 feet per minute.

If you were bored by reading this, I’m not sorry. I find this exciting as hell. Flying web log post. Started in an airport, written during a flight, and finished on the ground

Quite a respite, a fleeting flight.

-The0

Through the Fire and the Flames

It's a little odd, the way some jobs can affect one's psyche and confidence. First off, I wish to call to mind a specific scene from the movie Go. In said scene, a father is stitching a bullet wound up on his son, talking about how there are no real promotions in life any longer. What simply occurs is the man ahead of another man fails at his job, and the other man moves up to replace the previous man's incompetence. This seems to be the way of his world, my question however, it what if something similar to the reverse happens?

What if a man can move up the ladder in skill and ability, but the replacement for his former position is not as enthusiastic or competent at the job as the man he is replacing? Does it speak poorly on the training abilities of the the ladder-climber? Does it reflect the difficulty of the job on new man? Should the person who moved up, move back down, and restart the whole process? Or should he maintain his new position, proud of the progress he's made, cast to naught the duties he once considered so important? Is it a prideful move, or one of quiet dignity?

I don't think I would make a very good boss. I would get bogged down thinking about this and the feelings of employees, instead of just bossing them around, which is what bosses are paid to do.

Well aware of the danger of his words,

-The0

Placement Agencies are like job hunt butcher shops.

I have always been the kind to think about work while I'm at work, and that may be the reason I'm never the best at my job. Doing so, however, leaves me with revelations and realizations that I carry with me for quite a while, so I may just keep doing it.

One epiphany was that the job you perform is what you contribute to society. The harder you work, the more you produce, the more money you get. You then use this money to get things that you need or want that others have produced in the same society. It's like a standardized, long distance barter system. There was more to it, I'm just paraphrasing.

Another breakthrough that I had recently was that some jobs just don't fit some people. I remember back in college they had these tests which I would have been able to take which would magically be able to read my then-personality and tell me exactly what kind of job I should have been looking for. I think I ended up taking one of them, but never following through.

What I have begun recently is looking for a place where I can take these tests again. While I have been known to bitch about work before, it seems to be coming to a head in which I am losing a lot of my personal life to my job. I'm not very happy with my progress, and what I do was something that for a time, I loved doing. I dread every morning now.

If I had to start searching again, I'd start by finding out if there's a test to find a job I won't hate in 6 Months.

-The0

Money Kills.

Let's get this out of the way first. I love money. I love that these little electronic numbers and green slips of paper get me toys, food, and occasionally out of trouble. This issue is, I have only found one way to make these things accrue.

Working. And for the time being, I hate working. Pains in the ass, forever-irritable managers, stress abounds always. It's like no matter how early before my shift I pop in (free of pay, by the way) there's always some new issue, some other thing which has to be done, or some emergency which will become my responsibility. A lot of the joy from my job has been removed, and the art of it all is feeling beyond dead.

As much as I hate working though, I hate being broke more. I think. It's a definite conundrum, especially in that I don't think i'm making enough friggin' money to get toys AND food AND stay out of trouble. I already got rid of toys for my daily needs list, and food is scarce. Morale low.

-The0

Temporal Fill-In

Where exactly does all the time go? I wake up on a day off or few, and before I'm ready, It's time to cram my nose back into a fucking grindstone.

I have decided to find out where a lot of this time goes, and I am disappointed with my results.

Roughly 45 of my hours every two weeks goes into me escaping reality, and playing video games. This is a fun thing for me, but I am also well aware that there are better uses for my time

This time is usually spent drunk or drinking. They're not mutually inclusive though. I'd say I spent at least 10 hours of every two weeks drinking.

At the rate of 9 ill-planned hours every day off, and 5 hours every day on, I sleep. I sleep very hard, to the point where nothing can wake me except an explosion or the setting sun. Roughly 120 hours every 2 weeks. Yuck.

And then there are good uses of time. 12 hours every two weeks for band practice. Those are fun times, and I'm still usually late to that. Thank goodness they like me. Another good use of my time is, uuh....

Crap. I may be an exemplary case of irresponsible time use.

-The0

Treachery on the 7 Seas

Recently, through a very lucky set of conditions, I was able to obtain a version of Windows 7 Professional 64-bit. I am currently running Windows Vista Home Premium 32-bit, and I was actually pretty happy with it. But times, they change, and so must I. I wanted to have the 64-bit capability so that I could expand to more RAM, and be on the curve of 64-bit programming. What I learned may startle you.

YOU CAN'T JUST TRANSFER OVER 32-BIT FILES AND PROGRAMS TO A 64-BIT SYSTEM!!! Who knew?! Not this guy. So here I am, I have cloned my whole full hard drive to one twice its size. The end result I desired was to have a Windows.old folder on my bigger hard drive, not just on my old hard drive. This Windows.old folder would have all my old settings, all my old programs, even all my old music and libraries! I could simply copy and paste those all onto the same drive, and be done with my upgrade. I. Am Stupid.

I went ahead and tried to do most of this. About the only thing that wound out working was transferring my steamapps folder over to the new steam folder. With that setting the precedent, I decided to copy over every program file in it's like program file. Windows 7 64-bit has a special Program Files folder for 32-bit programs. Cramming files like I did messed up a LOT of things. I guess you could say it'd be like trying to cram a Neon onto a V8 engine, even if you get it to friggin' fit, how in the snot will you make it run? Not very well.

So I decided to try and go back and delete these files. This is the most annoying thing about Windows 7. Just because you put a file somewhere, or install a program, doesn't mean that 7 will let you remove it. It's not enough to be the Administrator. You need to have the permission of Trusted Installer. Who the hell is Trusted Installer, and when did he touch my PC?! This probably applies only to direct Windows features though. Still, quite confusing.

The best thing I wound up doing was formatting and starting from scratch. That works well. I'll be careful this time, and copy over My Documents one folder at a time. Then, fresh installs of all my old programs. The most convenient discovery so far is a site called Ninite. It's a site that allows you make one massive download of all the common applications you would want on a new PC or OS. Pretty nifty.

This is going to be a long voyage. All ashore who's going ashore!

-The0

The Usual, Please

Tonight was weird. I spent all day recovering from last night and grocery shopping with a friend, and then when I get home, I notice my beer tastes a little warm. My refrigerator is busted. I noticed this at 7, well before a shift end for the emergency maintenance crew. No one returned a call, no one came. That's just sad. I have food spoiling in an ice-laden chill chest, and the maintenance crew, the management, and everyone in the group to whom I pay my rent are going to drag their feet.

Now this is only a gripe, but goddamn, if I have to pay out the ass for rent and work said ass off just to earn the money, why can't I get someone who is paid to be on call, to come fix this? Nonsense!

If all this food goes bad, I'm dumping it in their office...

-The0

Lucky Birthday!!!

Today is apparently Google's 11th Birthday! A joyous day indeed! Another annual celebration for a company which whose motto is "Don't be evil."Good day. It's a little poignant for me, because 11 happens to be my lucky number for some reason which I have long buried but quite vividly remember. Also, I depend on Google to bring me most of my news, knowledge, and general fact-seeking in this lifetime, so I'm very happy for them.

Today is also my final day of work before I finally get to enjoy another day off. While I'm happy for the overtime, I've been working my ass ragged and all the while, been watching others work themselves 10 hours more ragged. Is that an actually a measure of job skill? Or job trust? Or am I simply going more crazy? The money will barely stretch itself to the next paycheck. Through Passion I gain Strength, and I feel horridly weak right now. Thank goodness for alcohol.

Today, It ends. Girls and Boys, be prepared for a very pessimistic, hateful, irreverent,lewd, cynical and tired weblogger in the coming post(s).

-The0

Intelligent Design

Have you ever had one of those days where you feel like you are getting progressively more stupid? I think I have been having more and more of those lately. It's not much of a comfort, but apparently, there are different types of intelligent, and I believe I just need to find the one that fits me best. In the meantime, damn, do I feel dumb.

I know I said this was a work in progress, but honestly, I didn't have much else to say. I had an awesome idea that I would love to make come to fruition, putting off the robots for a while. It's good metal work practice though, so pictures to come if I can get it together. Secret-ish Project! Oooh!

I finally have a Java book headed my way, so we'll see if that fits my intelligence style. Joy!

Off to sleep!

-Theo

WIP-Lash

I have been meaning to make a new post for a good few days now, but I always am so damn busy and tired lately. After a small musings post, I plan to do another arts review post. After sleep and work, of course.

* * *

And we're back! I broke down and bought the most recent Steam weekend deal. A bunch of games are cheaply available, 10 indie games in total. I had just a bit of cash laying about in various depots, so I deposited that and bought it. I am absolutely glad I did. 2 minutes into Audiosurf, I was giggling with what fun it was. Have you ever driven quickly on the highway to a song you really love? In Audiosurf, you get points for it. I'm very happy with this purchase. More mini-reviews to come, be assured.

I feel like have been working my fucking ass off at my job. Don't you just hate fate when you have a day off, and then, because of the laziness, negligence, or otherwise unfortunate actions of a coworker, you end up getting called into work what he or she would normally work? C'est la vie, of course, but hot damn, is it frustrating. It's fine though, I worked my entire last shift on straight overtime. Yay, bills.

I think it actually is effective to use the little gadgets which Vista makes available to track my account balance. I have a "post-it" with a running transaction log, and my current (underestimated) balance. This ought to help with those overdraft fees, I suspect.

The thought occured that there is great injustice with the coincidence that many leaders are simply filthing assholes. I know a couple of managers and upper managers that artlessly make it a point to get angry or just yell and shout to get what they want done, done. It's the same thing I was talking about before, really. Courtesy is out the window, and there is no hope for revision in the future, I fear. Oh well, humanity has earned its place among the fucked, I think.

Enough of this. Dr. Girlfriend and I recently watched Coraline, and I plan to review that tomorrow.

-The0

Et Tu, Woot-é?

Well, another half-assed Woot-off has occurred. I am a huge fan of Woot.com, and even though it preys upon my impulsive buying habits, I'm never sad for the things I buy.

Woot-offs are a happy time for me usually. The deal-a-day system is pumped onto steroids, and it becomes a "deal-until-we-run-out-of-crap-and-then-it's-a-new-deal" system. Eventually they might throw on the revered "Bag of Crap" for a dollar. That's kind of like a lottery ticket. You could get a European power adaptor, or you could get an LCD TV. Who knows?! At a dollar, who can afford NOT to know?!

Not so this time around. I had gotten into a comfortable pattern of 48 hour woot-offs, and then they pull this. 24 hours, half of which I had to spent at work (which has been very consistent, by the way. I never get to enjoy a full woot-off, because I'm too busy making the money I would otherwise spend) and no bag of crap. Though not promised, I should like to at least SEE one.

Oh well. Maybe they'll run another one in a couple of months.

-The0

Apologies shorted

Have you ever had one of those days where everything seems to go pretty well? Then, relatively unexpectedly, one event throws not only the whole day, but your entire perception of self-worth in shambles?

I haven't had many of those, I've always had some kind of fallback or reserved skill that I could bring to the party, and make myself feel better. Not so true now. I had a big one of those days this evening. I've thought about this tonight, a lot, had a good long ride, had some rich-white-kid-no-real-problems thinking time, and realized something. I don't think I'm all I'm cracked up to be. I'm not a baddass, and I'm not really going anywhere very fast. I'm certainly not very honest with myself. Which brings up another point.

This whole avalanche was instigated by some long hidden honesty. Damaging, hurtful thing. I've been a good liar for a long part of my life. Lost a few friends in high school because of it. Ruined a good couple relationships because of it too. Honesty is something that needs to be out in the open from the very beginning, so that if it is hurtful, it doesn't hurt as much. Of course, everybody else my age already fucking knows this. What the hell?

What the hell man?

I'd try self improvement, but to what end? To get better at my job which some younger asshole can probably do better than me anyway? Being a jack-of-all-trades and a master of none is actually kind of a raw deal. No jobs or careers for jacksmen. My confidence is really at an all time low. I'm not really seeing a point, and yet, all I can think to do is sit here, drink, and bitch. Yay! I've become a lazy drama queen.

Fuck This. Don't comment.

-The0

A Study in Hypocrisy

This is a long-ago post that I have decided is just barely worth fleshing out. It is more fully explored in a later post, but honestly, I'm sick of hearing people tell their own life story. Seriously, I don't want to hear it, I want interest expressed in me. That's why I started a damn weblog.

This entire post looks to have been drafted at a time where I was just coming to terms with who I have to work with. I was angry and jealous of the ability of another new hire, and we were both vying for the same job. Turns out we both got hired, and we have since become good, friendly co-workers. As of this out-fleshing, he is farther advanced in the career, but to be fair, he is better at what he does than I am at what I do.

All in all, anger at the time subsided, and this draft is fucking done with. Finished 08/30/2010.

-The0