Productivity

Yesterday I had to fight with a device that stated it was compatible
with what I put on it, but which had no drivers to support this
claim. I contacted the manufacturer and they told me the same thing,
saying they do release the item with that particular image on it, but
the drivers haven't passed testing so they won't give them to me or
anyone else. (Granted, I could pull them from a working unit, but I
don't have a working unit.) I reimaged it this morning with something
else and couldn't get that to work on it, either, at least, not well.
Further, the drivers they DO have on their site that HAVE passed
testing DO NOT F***ING WORK. I think the thing is possessed. So now
I'm going to try a different approach starting tomorrow.

I am proud of myself, however, for following up with the customer and
explaining the situation even though I was scared to death of talking
to him. Once in the past he chewed me out a bit for something I
wrongly did, which incidentally, I was wrong in doing but only due to
lack of experience. My perfectionistic mind at the time said "That
wasn't very nice of him but yeah, I should have been more careful and
been perfect." It took some doing but I got over that, telling myself
that being new to the situation and all, things like that were bound
to happen and he could be irritated all he wanted, the fact is, I
corrected the situation as soon as I knew and learned from it. That
counts for a lot with most people, including me. This time around he
was already starting in with advice on how I need to do my job, so my
red flags were up and I was trying desperately not to disappoint
again. Unfortunately, no matter what I did, it just was not to be.

So I bit the bullet and called him. After all, I know I've done
everything I can to this point, and it's the professional thing to do
to keep him abreast of the problem. At first he seemed vexed but he
didn't argue or anything, just strongly stated what he needed, which I
agreed with anyway. I think I was being harder on myself than he was,
in fact, although in all truth I'm more irritated with the vendor for
their part in my misery.

This has taught me to be more patient (very very patient), persistent,
and less fearful of disappointing, all good things in my line of work,
especially when I'm not 100% certain that I'm right. Speaking of
which, I need to be more forceful about things! I was chatting with
Dell yesterday about a laptop that wasn't working right. After I
described the problem and did some quick troubleshooting with them,
they announced that it was the LCD and they'd get it replaced. My gut
was telling me it was the motherboard, but I shut up and figured
they'd seen this on this model before despite it making no sense to
me. After all, I don't exactly specialize in hardware. I only tinker
now and again when I have to (or when I'm building). I'm certainly no
expert and can't even effectively argue for or against most circuitry
since I'm limited in my experience. I only know I like Dell's tech
support and that I like their stuff for the most part.

I should have mentioned my concern, though. What I should have said
was, "You know better than I, but... I wonder if it could be the
motherboard myself. Would it be too expensive for you to ship a
motherboard to the tech, as well, just in case it's not the LCD?" But
I said nothing. Maybe they wouldn't have heeded my advice, but it
would have been worth mentioning, at least. I feel like I didn't do
enough to help them help me. The tech comes today and replaces the
LCD. It still didn't work. He says, "I'm not surprised. I'd have
thought it was the motherboard." Him, too? And my colleague? So now
we have to wait longer for another part and take more of his time.
It's under warranty and he gets paid by Dell, but I'm about
efficiency. I hate that I was silent on that. But, this is an
example of me not trusting my own judgement and being afraid to ask.

I am NOT afraid to ask about some things, however. We plan to tear
down our garage in May and replace it with a new shed that's about the
same width, only a bit more shallow. We've also wanted to get a trash
permit to take trash to the dump here in town. So today I got out on
time and stopped into the town office before they closed. I love
small towns: You walk in and very informally say, "I have two
questions, and here they are." Then the clerk (whom I've seen on
multiple occasions since it's a small town) says, "Here are the
answers," and is very friendly and smily and overall just plain helpful.

I love small towns. Did I mention that?

Anywho, so now we've got a trash permit, and information on what to do
to get a permit for tearing down the garage and replacing it with a
shed. Ten years ago I would not have been caught dead asking someone
for information. I'd have hidden behind someone I knew while THEY
asked. Amazing what age, experience, and a bit of self-confidence can
do for some people, huh?

Currently, I'm starving, and I want to study Cherokee before my
class. Dale might be getting me for a creemee, too, so I think I'll
find some water for now and study until he gets home or calls.

Oh yeah, and I read another page of Braille last night. One day I
will read it easily and fluidly, and without looking at all. I think
that day will be this year. Probably soon, in fact. Now that I've
started studying Cherokee and Braille in earnest, I've begun to really
miss learning new things and sticking with things. I'm less
scattered, more focused, and ... well, my brain feels wanted. I think
I'll tackle Gaelic next. It won't be for a while, however. I intend
to have a good working knowledge of Cherokee before I switch
languages, especially since I'm going to take a college class this
fall and also start studying Sharepoint with far more fervor than I
once did.

~nv

Poem: Only Me

ONLY ME
2009042671 - c2009 WLC

The most interesting thing just happened
I was sitting here shifting files around
Moving music
Onto little miniature disks
And I heard this song
And saw you there so clearly

Dressed in black, softly lit
Was your hair
Surrounded by an atmosphere
Of inner peace, tranquility
In your left hand
A dipping pen
Below this, paper
Freshly drawn, so clear
Awaiting for the inspiration
To permeate your being
Relinquish to your soul

I felt a touch as if you felt me
Then the feeling all but faded
I sit here shivering in the night
Eager to speak to you again
But afraid you might not listen
Or that I'd get too close again

So I try to catch these glimpses
And hold them tight lest my past die
God, you're beautiful
If only you could see it
You'd let the world in
And then one day you'd make a difference
You'd understand the world
And embrace it more than hide
It's odd to see you all grown up
Waiting for those words to come to you

I used to think you were my baby
But I think you're only me
I'm not left-handed
But if I looked into a mirror
I would be
Only me

---
"Every problem has a gift for you in its hands." ~Richard Bach

grape dumplings, sorta

On several occasions, Ed (my Cherokee instructor) has told us of grape
dumplings. I finally looked this up tonight and modified the recipe a
bit to suit what I had on hand ... instead of grape juice, for
example, I used pineapple juice and mashed up grapes. I have to say
that this came out better than I'd expected. The result is a mass of
chewy, tasty, boiled dough with an occasional juicy crunch of grape in
it.

Most interesting.

The one issue I've noticed already is that for one or two people, the
recipe needs automatic halving. These things stick to your ribs REAL
quick. However, they are a treat to my palate so this won't be the
last time I'll be making them. I can see a few further modifications
to this...

~nv

Poem - THE INDIAN

THE INDIAN
42009041161 - c2009 wlc

You're just a tiny part of me
Echoing within my blood
A concept made up by own mind
Brushing up against my skin
A hand of reassurance from my kin

But precious moments are so few
I dreamt of one day seeing you
And then I woke up in the past
Recollections faded fast

I marched upon a table once
Speaking truth I'd never known
I didn't think I ever cared
To separate reality
From partiality

And when I went to look for you
I found my truths were very true
I didn't think that I would care
When I saw your name right there
Dead to me as was the air

But precious memories are so few
I look at me for a glimpse of you
And then I let go of her past
Some things are never meant to last

WACOM!!

Whack him? I hardly even know 'im!! haha

Srsly, my birthday whooshed past me recently and Dale got me this
wonderful little toy [ahem, tool] similar to the one I had gotten him
last year. It's a WACOM Bamboo Fun tablet. It's a nifty little rig
and I'm surprised at how quickly I became so used to using it as a
mouse. That's not the fun part, though. The fun part is using it
with PhotoShop. PS recognizes the pressure levels of the pen (i.e.,
how hard I'm pushing down) so I can actually DRAW. I can even write,
although depending on resolution and how good I am at remembering that
I can't look away from the screen lest I "write" onto my secondary
monitor (which doesn't have any photoshop "paper" to use)... well,
it's not really that good for writing lengthy things. Not that I'd
want to anyway. If I wanted to do that, I'd do calligraphy more often
instead of typing.

cleaning day

My mother in law made a comment about hoping it doesn't snow where she
lives.

Well, I'm with her on that, really. But I like to write so I decided
to respond thusly:

--
Yeah, well, I woke Dale up at 6:45am so we could jet down the street
to take pictures of the most awesome reflection of gnarly trees, like,
EVER, and when we got down there, it was overcast and breezy enough to
screw up the reflection. It's not like I've been wanting this shot
for two years or anything... (just one!!)

Anywho, we went home and I vacuumed while Dale swept and I lost track
of what he was doing but I ended up having to learn a new "feature" of
said vacuum. Apparently the little cyclone thingie that swirls can
get clogged really bad and this seems to be what was slowly causing
the vacuum to lose suction action. I was forced to realize this when
the power kept oscillating between "sorta" and "no way am I gonna help
you clean when you refuse to take proper care of me." So upon hearing
a soft flapping sound and being utterly unable to get the cat-hair
cleaner to work (I think the proper term is "turbo brush") I shut it
off and began cleaning things in earnest.

The filter was worse than I'd expected, so I cleaned that well,
noticed we'll be needing a hepa filter soon, and then noticed a fuzzy
thing hanging down inside the cyclonic action chamber thingie. I
reached my hand in there and discovered a whole glob of fur, dust,
and ... a long piece of packing tape? How'd THAT get in there? So I
pulled it all out but still wasn't satisfied. As it turns out,
there's another filter of sorts in there, or maybe it's what makes
things turn, I don't know. All I do know is that there were more
fluffy globs of fur stuck in the venty thingies and that this panel
was in my way. So I spent a few minutes trying to ascertain whether
the panel should pop down or be removed, when POP it flips right down
if you tug on each side a bit. Yay!! Then I bent the vacuum backward
to get a better look, and lo and behold, I got every last bit of fuzz
I could find. Then I wiped out the chamber (OMG I forgot I could SEE
in there when it was new) and reassembled everything. Now it can suck
all the fur in the house (Kitty attached if need be) into itself and
spit it into the chamber. Not sure how Kitty will fit in the tubing,
though. That's how powerful this little bugger is.

But Kitty ran away, so I contented myself with cat-hair-cleaning the
furniture. I keep telling Kitty that if she'd just let us shave her,
I wouldn't keep scaring her with the vacuum, but she simply gives me
an "I don't think so now pet me" look and rubs fur all over me in
retaliation of the mere suggestion.

Hmph.

The rats and the hamster now have clean habitats, as well. I also
cleared a spot on my desk for my arms so I can type this without
inflicting odd marks on myself. Winter is fine for resting arms on
top of scissors, crackers, chopsticks, pens, papers, screwdrivers, and
earrings, because I wear long sleeves. Today, however, I'm wearing
short sleeves. Such instruments on bared arms means an open
invitation for people to run from you screaming "OH MY
GODDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD!!!!!!!!!!! WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOUR
ARRMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMSSSSSSSSSSSS?!" It's not contagious,
really. I'm just a slob.

And you think a little SNOW is bad. Zheezh.

--
I don't know what she'll say to all that, but I look forward to her
response. It will probably be somethig like, "Haha, you're too
funny." What? I know her well!

~nv

Poem - Easter Water

Sometimes these things just pour out of me. This one occurred as I
sat relishing the lingering effects of porterhouse and cabernet
beneath the warmth of my desk lamp. Times like these, I have trouble
believing they are from my own mind, for they are so emphatic in their
desire to break free onto paper. Regardless of their source, however,
they must be shared.

EASTER WATER
2009040461 c2009 wlc

The sweat trickles down the side of the glass
Catching the light
As it slides down the smooth surface
Gliding
Lost in a sea of its own tears
Mesmerized
By the crystalline resemblance it bears
Where else can it go but down
Ever down until it hits bottom
The drops, they hang there
Dangling at the edge of the glass
A moment of indecision
Then one by one, they fall
Plop, plop, plop
Slowly drying upon the desk
On which they landed
Happy now to be at a standstill
No longer agile
Simply waiting for the air to take them
Molecule
By molecule.

The ice cubes sit and wonder
What's it like?
Down there, upon the table
Evaporating
Waiting, as they are, for Death?

But no, cry the droplets.
It is not Death, but Life;
Even as we disappear,
We reappear,
Invisible to the naked eye
But in existence even when it seemed we left.

How so? cry the cubes, slowly melting into water,
For their fear of their own demise was great
Swimming in their own pool
Of perceived extinction.

Open your mind, reply the droplets.
Did you not notice us appear upon the glass?
Did you not watch as we solidified
Seemingly from thin air?

Why yes, saieth the cubes.
We noticed this miracle.
How, then, is this so?

Listen, and learn, the droplets reply.
We shall tell you - it is no miracle.
But you will not understand
Until you yourself have done this feat.

Tell us! plead the cubes.

So we will, promise the droplets.

Once we were cubes, like you.
Swimming in a beverage.
Slowly melting,
Turning into water.

We have seen this! exclaim the cubes,
Slowly beginning to understand.
Parts of ourselves have already succumbed to this fate.
So how did you escape the prison of the sea?
Pray, tell us! they cry.

Patience, cubes. Listen!
Once we melted as you are doing.
We turned to water.
The air then took us!
But 'twas far from death!
Rejoice in what you have to look forward to!
You will become minute,
Broken up into tiny little fragments.
Floating purposefully, yet without direction
And then, one day,
Your fragments will collide.
You will combine with one another
Unified and whole in your parts
As sweat upon a glass
Or pouring down as rain
And you will be forever
A family of atoms.

The cubes,
Still melting in the drink in which they swam,
Ponder for a moment.
Thank you, say they, to the droplets.
We think we understand.
It is good to know there is life where we're headed,
But truly, as you said,
We will not fully understand until we reach where you have been.
Will we?

And as these last words of wisdom
Tumbled out of the glass
The droplets' last few atoms answer faintly,

No, you won't.
You must experience this great Truth for yourself,
And have faith until you do.