Ya ever go out on a date with a girl who's very shy and at the end you have no idea what's up? I've done that a few times. The best I can say for it is that we all appreciate the cognitive challenge posed by a puzzle. No, wait, I can do better: we all appreciate the effort of balancing our checkbook and figuring out just where we stand, especially if the resulting balance is greater than anticipated. Or, it is a tragedy if two folks miss out on a good thing because they don't speak the same language.
Not that I can complain. Some have accused me of being hard to read. Others believe I'm pretty transparent. I figure legibility increases with alcohol content. Of course, coherence starts to fade ...
You know how long it takes to restore a pair of 200G RAID filesytems from DLT cassettes over NFS when the RAID sets crash once during the restore, and you suffer lots of other shit along the way? I have a graph:
That's right, a bad SCSI cable had me restart the job Wednesday morning, and it has just been weird sleeping ever since. I took a quiet weekend, dancing on Thursday, Poker on Friday, and home with a book on Saturday. I actually woke up around ten this morning, feeling good, so I figure I'm ready for a decent week.
The best news of last week is that I've managed to score an Insight: I have a deposit down on a car at Airway Honda on the Southwest side of Chicago. That just means I should purchase my plane ticket right about ... a few days ago. Shit.
So, I was having a hard time finding a one-way ticket from the Airline Industry, when a friend reccomended I try Southwest. Gosh. American charges $1200 to fly to O'Hare, figuring I'm some ritzy business traveller or something. Round trip would cost less than half as much, which is just fucko. Anyway, I ask Southwest and I get the trip to Midway for $250 if I book two weeks in advance.
So I call Joe and ask him if 7:10AM is too early on a Monday morning for him to drop me at San Jose. No problem, says Joe. I book my tickets for Monday, 14 August, saving $100 for missing a weekend in Chicago because I should have booked last week, and then Joe calls back, wanting to make sure that I'm not flying tomorrow, which is okay with him, but he'd want to make sure. Good Humor.
26 July
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