A few cool quotes Grandma forwarded to me. This I’d say “lost . . . and found:”
It’s true that we don’t know what we’ve got until we lose it,
But it’s also true that we don’t know
What we’ve been missing until it arrives.
I have felt both ways about my wife, and now I’m looking forward to discovering what else I have been missing.
I recall the scene from “Dances With Wolves” where the one guy tells Dunbar that he was good friends with Stands With a Fist’s deceased husband, and he at first resented Dunbar, but now he thinks that maybe his friend “left” because he knew Dunbar would come along.
Then, “If you want to be happy for the rest of your life . . .”
Don’t go for looks; they can deceive.
Don’t go for wealth; even that fades away.
Go for someone who makes you smile
Because it takes only a smile to make a dark day seem bright.
Find the one that makes your heart smile.
And then, ask a optimist:
The happiest of people
Don’t necessarily have the best of everything;
They just make the most of everything that comes along their way.
There have been times when I was maybe more bi-polar, and people would ask, “why are you so happy all the time?” And I would answer “Because it beats being sad!”
Says Paul Graham:
Of course you have to have a business model eventually. But experience so far suggests that figuring out how to make money from something popular is a lot easier than making something popular.
I get a lot of criticism for telling founders to focus first on making something great, instead of worrying about how to make money. And yet that is exactly what Google did. And Apple, for that matter. You’d think examples like that would be enough to convince people.
Is this another Bubble? I don’t think so, not so far. There may be a lot of lame startups being started, but that’s not the definition of a bubble. A bubble is when a lot of money is being invested in lame startups, and that’s not happening yet. The reason so many new startups are getting started is that the cost has gone down, not that funding has gone up.
This is one reason I’m optimistic about my present employer: we’ve got something that is proving to be very popular. We’ve got a good thing going such that we can become hugely popular, and if we can capitalize on that even a little bit, we should be doing alright.
As to whether this is the mentality that brought us the Bubble, I think the thing to watch out for is Irrational Exuberence, and over-reaching. Popular or not, VC-backed or not, I haven’t heard any of that since the bust. I’d like to think that we of the Silicon Valley have Gotten Over Ourselves a bit–our experiments, called “startups”–have some sense of scope, and few companies outside of Microsoft or Google have barrels of F-U money to throw around. We’re no longer surrounded by IPO-funded Mercedeses and BMWs, and nobody I know is paying $2,000/mo rent. I hope we retain this sense of sensibility.
So, I’m setting up a box. I need to test different filesystem configurations, which will involve a lot of boot-configure-install-post-install-benchmark cycles. We have a nice network boot infrastructure, but getting serial booting to work is always fun. Today I found that the vendor has set up BIOS “remote access” to COM2. Funny thing, the box only has one serial port! So, I set that to COM1, and configure console redirection only up to the boot loader, tell the bootloader that I want
text console=ttyS0 and we’re in business!
But man, if SuSE’s YaST aint a bloody mess when it downgrades to text on a serial port:
What you don’t see here is the constant slow screen-redraw, constant pressing control-L. This is what it looks like at a good moment!
I think I understand why. I mean, I would think that Linux developers would take serial consoles and text mode to heart. After all, that’s the whole point, right? But that’s how I think, because I manage dozens of servers at a time, remote, and all my boxes are rack-mount jobbies with lots o’ fans and nobody wants to be in the same room.
But the developers who hack on Linux probably aren’t hard-core SysAdmins. Their dev system is some beat-up old hardware sitting near their desk, wired up to a spare VGA monitor, so yeah, text mode is kind of an afterthought. Especially given the pain in the butt that setting up serial consoles can be!
One interesting thing about getting divorced in California is that you have to wait six months after filing for a Joint Petition for Summary Dissolution of Marriage, before you can petition for final judgement. Yup, it takes six months to get a divorce. “You’d think they’d make you wait six months before getting married,” was Grandma’s response.
This leaves open questions as to what constitutes Community Property, and filing taxes. Answers I have not easily found online. A bit of “friendly advice” I got from someone is that Community Property ends at separation. As far as filing taxes, I found another bit of advice:
You are considered unmarried if you were legally separated on December 31 or if your spouse did not live in your home for the last six months of the year.
So, let us say your spouse seperates from you in April, files in July, and you are still legally married until January. As best I can tell, you file separately, and the assets your acquire later in the year are yours.
Of course, I am neither a lawyer nor an accountant.
At Church, this morning, was read the following poem, which resonated with current life activity:
Love After Love
The time will come
when, with elation
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror
and each will smile at the other’s welcome,
and say, sit here. Eat.
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you
all your life, whom you ignored
for another, who knows you by heart.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,
the photographs, the desperate notes,
peel your own image from the mirror.
Sit. Feast on your life.
On Labor Day I took myself out on a date: we went to Peet’s, then had some pizza, and then popcorn and soda while watching the new Woody Allen movie at the local theater. “I was born in the Hebrew faith, but when I got older I converted to Narcissism,” said Woody. (more…)
Stolen from gapingvoid, which has some delicious perspective on creative endeavour:
Every creative person is looking for “The Big Idea”. You know, the one that is going to catapult them out from the murky depths of obscurity and on to the highest planes of incandescent ludicity.
The one that’s all love-at-first-sight with the Zeitgeist.
The one that’s going to get them invited to all the right parties, metaphorical or otherwise.
So naturally you ask yourself, if and when you finally come up with The Big Idea, after years of toil, struggle and doubt, how do you know whether or not it is “The One”?
Answer: You don’t.
There’s no glorious swelling of existential triumph.
That’s not what happens.
All you get is this rather kvetchy voice inside you that seems to say, “This is totally stupid.This is utterly moronic. This is a complete waste of time. I’m going to do it anyway.”
And you go do it anyway.
Second-rate ideas like glorious swellings far more. Keeps them alive longer.
Mainly, I like “don’t quit your day job” . . . gives you something to do on the long commute to work. I’d take from that: have a long commute to work that leaves your arms free, if you can swing it. One thing I am completely loving about San Francisco is that I can stumble out of my house when I am good and ready, catch the next Muni that happens by, and repeat the process at the end of the day. People pay good money to drive cars, but the $45 monthly Muni pass . . . . . . at the current rate, I may part with my wheels. I spend more time driving the car around from one street cleaning zone to the next than I do actually driving anywhere!
(Still reading the darn thing. ’tis a delicious fountain of philosophy that most any of my friends should find somewhat gratifying. :)
Curse your RSS Feeds, Gmail, for linking me to this spastic hyperbole:
When the world changed on Sept. 11, 2001, the web changed with it.
While phone networks and big news sites struggled to cope with heavy traffic, many survivors and spectators turned to online journals to share feelings, get information or detail their whereabouts. It was raw, emotional and new — and many commentators now remember it as a key moment in the birth of the blog.
“If Americans learned anything from the surprise mass-murder perpetrated on 9/11, it was that they could express their feelings honestly on the Internet.”
I try not to be a cynical, jaded, old man, but please . . . its schlocky writing like that that makes me want to invade foreign countries, just so we can bring back the draft so that instead of talking about the contribution that Muhamed Atta made to the blogosphere, a few talentless hacks might be torn from their comfort zone and have some life to share with us.
Don’t mind me, I’m just venting my spleen. After all, blogging about September 11 is “raw, emotional and new.” You’re witnessing a re-enactment of Internet History!
japolo: haha, danny quotes locutus of borg in his code
anna: locutus was cool
dman: that sounds familiar … care to paste a bit, sir?
japolo: # “Sleep.” –Locutus
I used to love Star Trek: The Next Generation. But that was pretty damn lame when the Borg got blown up just when they were about to destroy Earth because someone told them to sleep. Now, it just makes me grin.
There are three lights!
On my way in to the office this morning, I noticed a random Muni bus trundling down Mission Street, with the destination sign reading:
GAY PRIDE PARADE
I was thinking “That’s today? But this is Thursday.” The people riding the bus looked like people riding the Mission Street bus. None of their expressions conveyed that they were headed for gay pride.
I figured this is just San Francisco, and some morning you could be on board the gay pride parade and completely not realize it.
So, I been distracted this morning by a talk thread on Yelp. It turns out that guys make passes at girls who wear glasses after all, and at least among the Yelpers, a nice pair of eyeglasses is a total turn-on. But what happens when you have successfully flirted and are ready for some lip action? How do you negotiate interfering eyewear without making a spectacle of your affection? Well, as a long-time wearer, here’s my tips for making out with eyeglasses:
TIP: If you wanna make out, TAKE YOUR GLASSES OFF!
TIP: If you’re having a nice evening with a date who wears glasses, and then you notice they’ve taken their glasses off, it is maybe time to gracefully excuse yourself, or get ready for some HOT.
TIP: If your date is going well and you want to get them “in the mood” you could try sliding their eyeglasses off, and setting them somewhere safe, and then bringing your face close to theirs to stare into their eyes, your mouth slightly agape as your eyes wonder intently at this newfound intimacy . . .
TIP: DO NOT LAY THEM ON THE BED. I testify from personal experience that they can get squished and then your eyeglasses are a tragic victim of your own romantic success.
Miriam got me giggling:
I have often heard it said that women don’t dress for men but instead dress for women. But I live in San Francisco and so I dress for gay men. Clearly, they’re the only ones who notice and compliment accordingly. . .
A few things I enjoy about walking downtown include commuting by train, the fascinating architecture that changes through the day thanks to lights-and-shadows, and, the innumerable good-looking women hustling on their way too and from their jobs and classes.
Alas, I know little for architecture or fashion, so I wander down the street gazing in uninformed appreciation of the beauty around me. As far as the trains go, I have to admit that I recently read up on the history of the USSLRV, which Muni was plagued with in the 1980s and 1990s before they got the nice Breda trains they run today.
“Ohhh, darling, is that a Breda LRV3 you’re riding? I really like it! You’re running so quietly with a good maintenance record. That is so hot!”
Well, thank goodness for the gay men in this city, keeping the ladies motivated to heights of fashion that make me smile in uninformed appreciation.
On Sunday I needed to get over to Buena Vista Park from my house, so I walked over to catch the 6, which turns around at 14th Av and Quintara. I walked up Quintara, only to be met by a tiered series of stairways at 15th. Oofda! Huff huff huff I got some nice exercise getting up to this bus stop, and now I know why it stops at 14th Av. Eventually the bus showed up empty and I was the only passenger for a good while as it twisted and turned along a crazy route up and down a lot of really steep hills. Although there were electric wires along most of the streets serving the route, the wires were not everywhere, so my ride was a beat up old diesel bus.
As I rushed away from the office this evening, I accepted, for amusement purposes, a flyer some lady was handing out at the subway entrance:
A marketing survey, huh? Sounds pretty straightforward. Am I in the right zipcode? *Flip* (more…)
Another every-other Friday, another lunch buffet at the titty bar with colleagues and friends. It’s not such a bad life.
. . .