Vengeful Cynic

Hail to the Chief

First off, I'd like to render my sympathies to my friends who wanted to see a McCain/Palin win. I can't say I'm giddy about an Obama win, but I find it preferable to the alternatives.

Really, any scenario where we balance out 8 years of Bush and 6 years of a Republican congress and their erosion of individual freedoms and civil liberties is a welcome change. Beyond that, I guess we'll see.

Book Meme

I found an interesting meme of 100 books in the English language that someone thinks that you ought to have read. These lists are a dime a dozen, though I happen to like this one in particular, probably owing in no small part to my having read a sizeable number of the books on the list and Tolkien and C.S. Lewis making multiple appearances. Really... it's highly slanted towards British authors, but it's worth looking at. I thought about hiding it below the fold, but my front page isn't all that occupied these days by text. It should be noted that my responses in particular as far as ownership goes are subject to my memory, made harder by the fact that easily half of my books are still in boxes. Oh... and I'm still not 100% sure what Anna does or doesn't have.

1) Bold those you have read.
2) Italicize those you own.
3) Underline the books for which you have SEEN A MOVIE OR TV PRODUCTION.

1 Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
2 The Lord of the Rings - JRR Tolkien
3 Jane Eyre - Charlotte Bronte
4 Harry Potter series - JK Rowling
5 To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee
6 The Bible
7 Wuthering Heights - Emily Bronte
8 Nineteen Eighty Four - George Orwell
9 His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman
10 Great Expectations - Charles Dickens
11 Little Women - Louisa M Alcott
12 Tess of the D'Urbervilles - Thomas Hardy
13 Catch 22 - Joseph Heller
14 Complete Works of Shakespeare (obv. have only seen movies of some)
15 Rebecca - Daphne Du Maurier
16 The Hobbit - JRR Tolkien
17 Birdsong - Sebastian Faulks
18 Catcher in the Rye - JD Salinger (no movie, unless Conspiracy Theory counts)
19 The Time Traveller's Wife - Audrey Niffenegger
20 Middlemarch - George Eliot
21 Gone With The Wind - Margaret Mitchell
22 The Great Gatsby - F Scott Fitzgerald
23 Bleak House - Charles Dickens
24 War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy
25 The Hitch Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy - Douglas Adams
26 Brideshead Revisited - Evelyn Waugh
27 Crime and Punishment - Fyodor Dostoyevsky
28 Grapes of Wrath - John Steinbeck
29 Alice in Wonderland - Lewis Carroll
30 The Wind in the Willows - Kenneth Grahame
31 Anna Karenina - Leo Tolstoy
32 David Copperfield - Charles Dickens
33 Chronicles of Narnia - CS Lewis (BBC FTW)
34 Emma - Jane Austen (SO MUCH HATE!)
35 Persuasion - Jane Austen
36 The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe - CS Lewis
37 The Kite Runner - Khaled Hosseini
38 Captain Corelli's Mandolin - Louis De Bernieres
39 Memoirs of a Geisha - Arthur Golden
40 Winnie the Pooh - AA Milne
41 Animal Farm - George Orwell
42 The Da Vinci Code - Dan Brown
43 One Hundred Years of Solitude - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
44 A Prayer for Owen Meaney - John Irving
45 The Woman in White - Wilkie Collins
46 Anne of Green Gables - LM Montgomery
47 Far From The Madding Crowd - Thomas Hardy
48 The Handmaid's Tale - Margaret Atwood
49 Lord of the Flies - William Golding - if you ever get a chance to see this, watch the Simpsons' episode instead
50 Atonement - Ian McEwan
51 Life of Pi - Yann Martel
52 Dune - Frank Herbert
53 Cold Comfort Farm - Stella Gibbons
54 Sense and Sensibility - Jane Austen
55 A Suitable Boy - Vikram Seth
56 The Shadow of the Wind - Carlos Ruiz Zafon
57 A Tale Of Two Cities - Charles Dickens
58 Brave New World - Aldous Huxley
59 The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time - Mark Haddon
60 Love In The Time Of Cholera - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
61 Of Mice and Men - John Steinbeck
62 Lolita - Vladimir Nabokov
63 The Secret History - Donna Tartt
64 The Lovely Bones - Alice Sebold
65 Count of Monte Cristo - Alexandre Dumas
66 On The Road - Jack Kerouac
67 Jude the Obscure - Thomas Hardy
68 Bridget Jones's Diary - Helen Fielding
69 Midnight's Children - Salman Rushdie
70 Moby Dick - Herman Melville
71 Oliver Twist - Charles Dickens
72 Dracula - Bram Stoker
73 The Secret Garden - Frances Hodgson Burnett
74 Notes From A Small Island - Bill Bryson
75 Ulysses - James Joyce
76 The Bell Jar - Sylvia Plath
77 Swallows and Amazons - Arthur Ransome
78 Germinal - Emile Zola
79 Vanity Fair - William Makepeace Thackeray
80 Possession - AS Byatt
81 A Christmas Carol - Charles Dickens
82 Cloud Atlas - David Mitchell
83 The Color Purple - Alice Walker
84 The Remains of the Day - Kazuo Ishiguro
85 Madame Bovary - Gustave Flaubert
86 A Fine Balance - Rohinton Mistry
87 Charlotte's Web - EB White
88 The Five People You Meet In Heaven - Mitch Albom
89 Adventures of Sherlock Holmes - Sir Arthur Conan Doyle (again, seen some, not all)
90 The Faraway Tree Collection - Enid Blyton
91 Heart of Darkness - Joseph Conrad (Apocalypse Now counts, right?)
92 The Little Prince - Antoine De Saint-Exupery
93 The Wasp Factory - Iain Banks
94 Watership Down - Richard Adams
95 A Confederacy of Dunces - John Kennedy Toole
96 A Town Like Alice - Nevil Shute
97 The Three Musketeers - Alexandre Dumas
98 Hamlet - William Shakespeare
99 Charlie and the Chocolate Factory - Roald Dahl (have seen both movies)
100 Les Miserables - Victor Hugo

My Great Friends

So... since I last posted, Anna and I have acquired a house. And then we moved into said house. Yeah, I know... I'm bad about these things. We'll take some pictures when things finish getting cleaned up to make it up to you.

In any event, I would like to thank my friends who have made this all possible: Ardith and Jason Hoyt, The Moores, Barbour, Maples, and my wife's cousin Heather and cousin's boyfriend Jeff. I'd like to especially thank Barbour and the Moores for making long drives and Ardith for helping out on not one, but two weekends.

Weekend one (for which the Moores came out) involved moving all of my stuff out of storage and into my house. That all went fairly well and made my new house seem much smaller, now that it was full of stuff. This said, it was really nice to get out of that tiny apartment. Also, I'm not going to miss the Zombie... not at all.

This last weekend marked Barbour driving up as well as Heather and Jeff driving out from the Milwaukee area. Oddly enough, this is also where the Moores live, so it would seem that I have trips to Wisconsin in my future. Also, this means that there should be a steady stream of quality beer being brought to me... but I digress. In this last weekend, we started to unpack all of the stuff that the first shift of friends brought in and put it away. Anna is happy to report that the kitchen is in good order. Oh... and the fridge is happily stocked with beer, cheese and wine. I'm pretty happy.

Also, after two weeks, the damages on new expensive stuff that I've had to buy as a home-owner:

5 book-shelves (2 5-shelf, 3 3-shelf)
2 sets of curtains
1 lawn mower
1 grill
1 new wooden desk for Anna

Really, I'm quite pleased, albeit slightly poorer. I'd also really like to thank God for giving me such gracious friends. I mean, yes, I buy food and beer (and top-shelf booze) for my friends who come out to help, but most of them are busy people who could take the money for the gas and the time and buy their own food and beer and not have to work... so I'm really thankful for them.

I'd also like to make a special note of thanking Jason Hoyt by not mocking him for waiting until nearly making it to 21 before even getting his drivers' license. I'd also like to note that I'm not mocking him for having his little sister getting her license before he did. See Jason? I don't give you a hard time ALL of the time.

Interaction with My Slum-Lord

So The Zombie* and I have had a variety of inane conversations and she's convinced me that she's really not the smartest woman. Here's the most recent:

So I left notice on Friday with the Zombie that we're moving out at the end of the month. When I got out of the lab on Friday afternoon, my cell phone had a message on it. I checked it, and it was the Zombie telling me that they wanted to show my apartment and that I should call them back to confirm. Well, obviously, my apartment is a mess and I don't want it shown, so I called back and got a busy signal. So this morning I called back again, left a message with their answering service and gave her my office number (not for the first time) for them to call me.

The Zombie: "So, we're showing your apartment at 11 am this morning... is that okay?"

The Cynic: "No, I would rather that you not do that."

Z: "Well, you should have called us back on Friday when we called your cell phone... it's scheduled now."

VC: "Wait a second... So you can schedule my apartment for showing unless I call you up to tell you I don't want to?"

Z: "Well... so long as you're there, you have the right to refuse, but I already scheduled the showing."

So at this point I guessed I'd have to go home and turn them away at the door or... *shudder* clean, so I lobbed the long-ball.

VC: "Look, if you show my apartment, you'd best be sure you're covered legally, because I WILL call a lawyer"

Z: "Well FINE then, we just won't show your apartment. You'll be gone at the end of the month ANYWAYS!"

*click*

Yeah... I think she just hung up on me. I'm just puzzled as to what the crap she's thinking... as if living anywhere besides in these crappy apartments is a punishment or something.

----------------------

*So, when my slum-lord wears her makeup, she looks like a zombie. I know from various conversations with her that she can't be older than 40, but the amount that she's smoked makes her look 65 or so and she has stringy, dirty hair to accentuate the look. Thus, I refer to her as The Zombie.

The Trials of Attempting Property Ownership

Yeah... I know, I haven't gotten back to the Moore wedding. I'm really not sure how to write significant pieces of it in order to keep it meaningful and accurate while at the same time refraining from over-editorializing and potentially writing things that I might not want to have published to the open Internet. Bear with me.

So Anna and I are buying a house. And part of buying a house is having a home inspection. So I went on my home inspection with the local Crazy Jamaican Home Inspector. I definitely recommend the guy so long as you don't mind that he's not really big on punctuality. He's very thorough, but very stereotypically Jamaican with respect to punctuality and attention to things like dates and times.

Anyways, we found a couple of issues with the house... nothing deal-breaking, but it turns out that the owner before the current owners was something of an aspiring home handy-man. Except that he sucked at installing toilets, electrical outlets and REALLY sucked at installing dishwashers and soldering copper piping.

The Toilet - When you grab it and try to swing it back and forth, there's about an inch that it comes up off of the ground and probably 45 degrees of motion from one extreme to the other. Oh... and it leaks to the basement. Fortunately, it leaks onto replaceable drop ceiling tiles... but it's still a problem.

The Electrical Outlets - He failed to ground any of the outlets that he installed in the garage.

Copper Piping - So when soldering the copper piping above the hot water heater, he failed. There are probably half a dozen pinhole leaks that have led to a bed of copper oxide roughly half an inch high on top of the hot water heater.

The Dishwasher - The capstone of the whole experience. So when he installed the dishwasher, he apparently noted a lack of electrical service under the counter. No matter, there are outlets on top of the counter. So what did he do? He drilled a tiny hole, cut off the end of the plug, fished the cable through, spliced the end back on and attached it to the wall. Except, apparently he also sucks as splicing, because the plug has since melted to the point where there is significant copper exposure. Seriously, I'm surprised nothing's caught fire yet.

All in all, I'm very grateful for the home inspector, because while there's a lot of things that I caught on my own, there's a much longer list of little things and significant but subtle things that I would have never noticed. And if anyone's buying in Cedar Rapids, talk to me... The Crazy Jamaican is sure to drive your Realtor nuts, but he's damned good at what he does.

The Moore Wedding: Part One

Really, this ought to be one contiguous story. And perhaps it will be, in time. But for now, it's being told episodically... because there was simply too much that happened this last weekend for it to be one blog post. In fact, the story of the trip leading up to the wedding and the night before the events described here are a story in and unto themselves. And honestly, if you want that story told, talk to Anna. But anyways, as I was saying.

There have been few times in my life where my instinct towards laziness would have served me better than this last weekend. I say "would have," because I utterly failed to heed its balking wisdom when, a month or so ago, David Moore asked me to emcee his wedding reception. Really, I should have panicked when he offered me room and board for the weekend simply in exchange for my talking into a microphone in front of a willing crowd, but we'll get to all of that in good time.

Instead, allow me to start with the third ill omen, wherein I called the groom on the morning before the wedding to get directions and was informed that he was only just now getting the marriage certificate. In due time, I would have occasion to take pause and contemplate these warnings, but at that time, I was far too preoccupied with attempting to navigate "Chicago-land" without a freaking map.

To his credit, the groom gave me excellent directions to the bride's house, where I was greeted by the recently-returned groom, the eager bride and Ziggy, The Best Man.¹ Well, really, Moore was fluttering about like a chicken with his head cut off, Sharon was busily preparing flowers and Ziggy was printing programmes. We all sat around a while and chatted and got caught up while I looked over the directions to the audio rental store. Since it was getting on to be 11:30 and there looked to be roughly a 45 minute drive, Anna and I headed out to get the audio equipment early so that we could test it in advance.²

A confusing, haphazard and poorly-mapped out hour of driving through Chicagoland later found us at the "audio rental store." It is at this point where I should digress and note that as I was perusing the Google map that David had kindly supplied, I noted that "store" looked like it was in a subdivision.³ Laughing this off, I supposed that this was simply owing to the bizarre and ridiculous road layout situation of the greater Chicago area. Our arrival in a subdivision gave credence to my initial misgivings. All of this said, I was in the computer business long enough to find valid and viable home-based businesses, so we found the house in question, drove up and got out.

Approaching the two men standing outside of the garage, I boldly announced my intentions, "Ummm... I'm here for some stereo equipment."

The men looked up at me and confusedly at each other. One spoke up in a Germanic accent as the other politely pantomimed, "Stereo? Go to front door. Yes?"

Shrugging, I waved politely, smiled and walked up to the front door. After knocking produced no result, I rang the bell. Barking ensued from inside and after a short wait, a tiny little old lady came to the door in what appeared to be a bathrobe and sneakers with some kind of small, furry dog under one arm. This woman looked like she'd had a hard life and, in all actuality, seemed as though she might have already died and was simply unaware of it other than the fact that her bottom lip had already bloated to disgusting proportion.

"HELLO?!"

"Yes, we're here to pick up the audio equipment."

"WHAT'S THAT?!"

"THE STEREO EQUIPMENT! WE'RE HERE TO PICK IT UP!"

"HERE ABOUT A STEREO?! That's nice... step inside."

And in we stepped, into the garbage storehouse. Well, to be fair, besides the actual wallpaper and paint, nothing in the house looked like it was actual trash. Instead, there was a 30'x40' room filled three to five feet high throughout with what could only be described as assorted... stuff. And rising high above the room was an overlooking hallway connected to the stairway that dumped out in front of the door through which we'd just come, and that hallway also appeared to be loaded with stuff. It was almost as though the occupants had been acquiring the unsold surplus from every estate sale in town for the last several years, to the point that the only way through was a narrow path along the wall below the stairs.

As we wandered inside, the little old lady toddled off towards the stairs, dog under one arm. Traversing the 5 feet with all of the grace of a small child learning to ride a bicycle and half of the speed, she began to shout.

"BRYAN!"

"BRYAN!!"

"BRYAN!!!! YOU HAVE VISITORS!!!!"

With this she paused and gazed back apologetically and then set off toddling down the aforementioned narrow path that had been cleared to one side of the debris field. After some time, she arrived at a door, which she opened and resumed her shouting.

"JASON!"

"JASON!!"

"JASON!!! THERE ARE PEOPLE HERE FOR YOUR FATHER!!!"

Noting that she wasn't being responded to, the little old lady shuffled back to the foot of the stairs and, step after tortuous step, began to ascend them. After seemingly an eternity, the would-be zombie reached the top of the stairs and began screaming again.

"WHERE'S JASON?!"

Almost incongruously, she was finally answered by a perhaps shriller female voice, "HE'S PROBABLY ON THE PHONE!!"

With a shrug, she turned to make her ascent, dog still under one arm, toddling precariously as she climbed slowly downward. "You'll have to excuse me... I can't afford to fall." Gazing pointedly at the dog that apparently needed the chariot ride more than grandma needed the balance, I omitted my response as she ambled slowly downward.

After this strenuous journey, the woman paused for breath and then made her way back through the minefield and over to the door that she had visited earlier.

"JASON!!"

"JASON!! THERE ARE PEOPLE HERE!!"

And, finally another response, "I'M ON THE PHONE!!"

"GET UP HERE!!"

We were met by an interlude full of angsty stomping followed by a young teenager emerging from the basement. Taking a parting blow, he turned on grandma, "I WAS ON THE PHONE!!" and then breezed past her and up to us, replacing bravado with teenaged awkwardness even as he shuffled through the wreckage.

"What's up?"

I figured repetition was the key here... say the same thing to enough people and maybe one of them would be able to help, "I'm here for some stereo equipment."

"Oh... that'd be my dad." Jason turned and pushed some piles of stuff aside to reveal a mountain of previously-unseen stereo equipment. "Hold on a sec."

And with that, Jason was all business again, whipping out a cell phone. Some mumbling later, he snapped the phone shut.

"He says come back in an hour."

So here I am, it now being 1 PM, 45 minutes from Joliet, without sound equipment, being instructed to come back in an hour. "Sure... whatever."

As we headed out the door, first I called Moore and gave him an ear-full. Not as much as he deserved, but as much as I could pile on the groom in good conscience. After fighting a losing battle to calm my rage, Moore picked a rapid retreat in the form of "Got to try on this tux... bye!"

In between his sad wailings about all of this business of finding shady-ass sound equipment dealers not being his fault, Moore had noted that the number for this monument to ineptitude was located on one of my sheets of paper. As Anna and I departed to find food, I called our "equipment supplier" and was assured that he would be there between 2 and 2:30 PM.

During our drive, Toad finally called. "Wait... so if all of the guys are out getting fitted for tuxes, where the hell are you?" Sensing a chance to add to my motley posse of errand-runners, I gave Toad some crude directions while I stopped off at Target to get a real map. After a series of quick redirects and a lunch at a shady gas-station subway, we were now under way with Anna in the lead and Toad and I following in his crappy Korean rental car with its busted-ass transmission and screwed-up remote locking system.⁴

We arrived a short while later (in spite of Anna's frequent attempts to lose us at stoplights) and this time bypassed the Europeans completely as we headed for the door. True to form, our ringing of the bell was greeted by the walking dead and she invited us in again with the comment, "Oh look, you brought a friend!" I think she may have also mentioned something about the woman being in charge, but really, I was too busy trying not to stare at the dead maggot that she had stapled to her lower lip.

And then we were off to the races as grandma bypassed screaming up the stairs to scream down into the basement after Jason. And then, after a couple of failed attempts, she ascended beneath. And just as we were starting to wonder if the dog had finally tripped her up for good this time, she re-emerged, sadly shaking her head. "There's nobody down there." Then, without so much as an attempt to shout up the stairs, she began her ascent anew... every bit as frightening as the previous one. She did finally reach the precipice, commenced with some shouting and some muttering with the woman in the next room and then proceeded to tempt fate yet again by coming back down the same stairs.

"She called Bryan and he and Jason are on their way. Would you folks like to sit down?"

Almost in a panic, I stammered out an excuse, "We need to make a phone call.... outside.... on our cell phones.... long distance...." And not waiting for a response (fearful, really, of getting one), I charged out the door into the sunlight. Sensing the need for haste, Toad and Anna followed close behind, leaving the zombie standing bewildered on the now-empty landing.

As the zombie finally closed the door, Toad looked back and forth between Anna and I and shook his head. "Wow...."

After some puzzled glances back and forth, Anna pointed out that we should probably figure out the situation with the train riders. A quick phone call confirmed that they would be in soon enough that it would make more sense for us to go pick them up before we went back to the bride's house, which, of course, raised the question of how long we would be remaining at this improvised electronics shack. Just as Toad began mapping out a way to the train station on his phone via Google Maps, a van burst into view and it appeared that our erstwhile sound equipment had finally been stolen for our use... err... showed up.

Bryan and Jason hopped out of the busted-ass van and Bryan greeted me apologetically, "It's been a rough day... let's get your equipment." And with that, Jason vanished into the house and I followed Bryan into the garage, where he proceeded to open two additional vans and began lobbing equipment out of them and into a pile, shuffling through the piles as he went.

And then, the cops showed up.

No, I'm serious, a cop pulled up and began asking Anna and Toad questions about the box truck that was parked on the street while Bryan continued obliviously lobbing electronics.

"Is this your truck?"

(In concert) "No."

"Do you know whose it is?"

(Again, a concert of "No.") Toad followed up with, "We don't live here and we're not even from around here."

At this, the officer shrugged, inquired of the Germans, and then proceeded to begin writing the truck a ticket.

As all of this went on, Bryan continued to lob electronics until one of the Germans wandered up. "Bryan.... is your truck?" he asked, pointing at the box truck.

"Yeah..."

"Is police!"

At this, Bryan practically sprinted over to the truck as Toad and I loaded the stuff that he had already set aside into the car.

"You know, Toad.... we could just leave now and nobody could find us."

"Yeah... but then we'd be stuck with stolen goods."

"We're already going to be stuck with stolen goods... at least this way we won't have to pay to rent them."

And before we could wander further down this speculative path to dubious morality, Bryan returned.

And without too much more haggling, we were on our way to get Jared, Rachel and Wilson and rid of the shady sound rental guy... for now...

¹ Really, I can't say enough about Ziggy and his level of preparedness and organization. I'm pretty sure that everyone agrees that without Ziggy, there would have been no wedding.

² Having done this sort of thing a couple of times, I'd like to note that you really want to get the audio equipment as far in advance as possible. Rental audio equipment tends to be in lousy shape owing to all of the amateur "sound experts" who use it and all of the teenaged morons who tend to repair it and you really want to check out your system and find the kinks well in advance of the ceremony. In our case, I really wanted to get far enough out ahead of it that we could even go back in and get replacements if we ended up with duds.

³ I also noted that this stupid map had gotten me lost more than once and that it would appear that I would need an actual "Chicagoland" map of my own rather than relying upon the fragmentary maps in Moore's Google Maps printouts. Really, I should have just bought an iPhone at this point... but that's neither here nor there.

⁴ Really, I ought to let Toad expound upon the strangeness of this rental car, but suffice it to say that whenever you used the keyless entry to unlock the thing, it popped the damned trunk. Oh... and the 5-gear pretend manual transmission was designed by giving a group of mental patients access to a CAD program.

The Wedding

Grats David and Sharon Moore! I have many more thoughts on this event including a rather detailed retelling which will have to wait.

5th of July

Really didn't do much for the 4th. Well, that's not strictly true... we went on a "nature hike" (read: 5 mile hike on a nature trail near my apartment wherein we stopped frequently to allow Anna to take copious pictures), saw Hancock (which really isn't as bad as the reviewers are calling it... it's just really not all that good), and went and "watched" some fireworks (I say "watched" because we only saw the top 40% or so of the detonation field from our distant vantage point, and because it was a very short show.)

Anyways, pursuant to the 4th, we were invited to come out to the middle of jack nowhere:

View Larger Map

to spend the 5th of July with the Hoyt Crew, along with two of the members who we brought out from Cedar Rapids in our car.

First off, let me say that the Hoyts were excellent hosts who fed us well and kept us very entertained. I'd like to say that I wasn't a terrible guest... but considering that I kept egging on various children, encouraging civil disobedience, undermining various quality morals and just generally telling stories of my personal unsavory past, I really can't claim to have been anything but. Even so, adults laughed politely while Ma furiously scribbled down an extensive list of heresies, falsehoods and bits of foolishness that she would have to unteach over the next week. For her part, Anna made sure I didn't misbehave too badly while Ardith looked on bemusedly.

We did have a great time, and I learned a great deal about a variety of subjects including horses, engineering, electrocution, ingenuity the wrongness of animal cruelty, the technical difficulties of housing giant squid, the difficulties attendant to painting garage ceilings, the dangers of having children and a variety of other subjects. Really, in my opinion, that last point bears expounding upon in light of all of my friends who are having children.

To paraphrase Pa Hoyt (and I wish I'd taken better notes): children become destroyers of property round about age 2 and it takes them roughly ten years to grow to the point where they reverse this trend, during which time, you spend a lot of time re-fixing things that they break. While it should be noted that others felt this to be a tad on the excessive side, he does have the experience that only fathering 10 children can provide. And really, one only has to look around at the Hoyt homestead to realize that the Loren is a seasoned veteran of and a veritable expert on home improvement and repair... I'd take his word on it if I were you, prospective parents.

In the end, I hope that I didn't break too many minds or cause Ma too much extra work. That said, the kids seem mentally resilient and very well-grounded: I'm confident that they'll figure me out for the menace to society that I am and ignore my radical teachings. And if not... well... I'm sorry Ma: I'll send chocolate.

Not Drowned Yet

So... Anna, Moore and Ardith are all now posting more frequently than I am. For shame.

A Real Job

I've gotten a lot of questions about the new job, so let's see if I can sum it all up.

1) I'm doing something interesting... which is a nice change. I work in the Government Systems side of things at Rockwell Collins, testing the JTRS GMR.

2) I work in a cubicle, on a nice computer with a pair of 19" LCDs.

3) They have popcorn on Tuesdays and Thursdays.

4) I see Ardith once every couple of days. She is still short and antisocial.

Lost in a Snow Bank

Yeah... that's where I've been. Actually, I've been acclimating to my new job. And dealing with being a bachelor. And being lonely.

As many of you will recall, I don't do so well by myself. But not to fear, assuming Wheeler and Anna beat me enough, I've got stuff that needs posting. And with any hope, I'll get it posted... though I wouldn't go holding my breath if I were you.

24 Hours Left

We have now entered the period of the last 24 hours of The Cynic living in Longview. I will come back to visit and I will come back to move Anna, but, at least for the forseeable future, this is it for me and Longview.

Those of you who have my cell phone number would do well to call it if you want to see me before I depart. For those who do not, check with someone who does. I would love to see as many people as possible before I jet, and you can make it happen

Or something like that.

While I Write

While I work on writing up a post on the acquisition of the new vehicle, here are a couple of pictures:

More below the fold (I would use thumbnails, but the thumbnail creator is on the blink.)

The Unveiling

Well, with it being official, I would like to announce that Anna and I are moving to Cedar Rapids, Iowa in order that I may work at my new job as a software developer and tester at Rockwell-Collins. As some of you know, the offer has been on the table since mid-January after I interviewed with Rockwell, but that, for a number of reasons, I've been keeping a lid on it. Actually, if I were a good blogger, I would have already written all of this up in anticipation... but I'm thinking that a 2-month impromptu sabbatical should serve to settle any arguments to the contrary. Or... as the British would put it, I'm "rubbish at blogging."
Actually, in case I fail to get proper posts up, let me just jot down a couple of quick updates:

1. Anna and I are moving up to Cedar Rapids (oh, look, I already got that update up... look at me and my mad skills)
2. I have a new car for said job (yes, Anna also owns said car, but until she moves up, it's undesputedly My Car)
3. I have been watching a LOT of Dr. Who (hence the unusual predilection for highfalutin diction and old-world vernacular)

Sekretive Happenings

Usually I try to post once a month. And it's kinda been two months... and not a peep from me.

Stuff is going on that I really am not at liberty to discuss yet... good stuff, but stuff that's not out there for general consumption.

So while you contemplate that, watch this:

Moving Redux Redux... etc.

Dear Wheeler,

This letter is to inform you that you have officially used up all of your allotted relocations for the next two (2) years. My back is sore, my arms likewise, ditto on my legs and even on my hands, feet and head. Also, I feel this would be an appropriate time to remind you that my rates increase significantly with the accrual of personal property but can be easily mitigated by the provenance of additional movers. In other words: you need to procure some more friends with pronounced musculature.

Regards,

The Cynic

PS While I appreciated the vast array of good food to which I was availed, I am specifically writing "must be fed Mexican food at least once" into my next contract. That is all.

Spoilers

Just so you know, I have a general principle: spoiling something for me will make your life miserable. I mean, Wash dying and Rosebud being a sled aside, I WILL bring Barbour along and, together, we will kill you.

Vacation Again

Lake City is a special place... and I choose that word specifically for all of its full denotative and connotative range. And, by all accounts, it comes into its own at the epitome of special on the 4th of July. So it was decided by6 my wife and my in-laws that I should definitely experience Lake City in all of its wonderful eccentricity on Independence Day week.
And that's how I find myself dragging out of bed at 3:45 in the freaking morning on the Friday before the 4th. Why was this necessary? Well, I'll let you do the math: it's roughly a 16-hour drive to Lake City from Longview, assuming a minimum of delays, and the DFW Metroplex is on that route. In order not to end up in the joy that is DFW morning traffic and the potential for delays due to construction, etc, etc, I need to not be in the Metroplex between 7 and 9 am... oh, and it takes about an hour to get through the Metroplex (assuming a lack of severe traffic or delays.) So, 3 hours to the far side of DFW, I either have to be on the other side by 7 am or I want to be showing up after 9 am. So, I either leave at 4 AM or after 7 AM... the latter landing me in a situation where I'll be going over mountain passes in the dark: not really a great option... especially if I somehow end up driving them - given that my only experience in driving mountain passes is precisely none.
In any event, early morning awakenings and long drives notwithstanding, I was happy to find myself in Lake City in time for Alferd Packer Days. For those of you not in the know, Alferd Packer is (was) the Lake City Cannibal and my favorite icon of Lake City. I may have written about him before... if so, I'll find it around here at some point. Anyways, when I was informed that Packer was being celebrated in song and drink... and by drink I mean solid, locally-brewed beer, I was there. And for $10 I got a glass stein with Packer's mug on it, that stein filled once with beer and $2 refills. I think I even supported some wonderful Lake City charity like the Lake City Friends of Bears or something.
But even better than Saturday's festivities was what we did on Sunday. It's not just that we got to go to Church outside in our hammock chairs, but that the service that we attended was all of the churches in Lake City holding a joint Community Service. Yes, all 5 churches in town banded together to hold the service: Presbyterian, Grace Brethren, Episcopal, Baptist and Catholic. Yeah... that's right, the Baptists and the Catholics in the same service cooperating and singing together, saying the Apostles' Creed and even listening to a sermon by a Baptist minister. I really couldn't even begin to tell you what the sermon was about, what hit me was the ecumenical spirit in that community: after living so many years amongst Catholic-haters, Baptist-bashers and various denominational segregationalists, I always feel amazed and even slightly convicted by people setting aside the less-important things for the core doctrines of the Creed and the unity of Christ's Church.

Robbing Peter to Pay Paul

At roughly 9 am this morning the phone rings. It's a customer who had wanted to pick his computer up on Friday. Owing to circumstances beyond my control, we closed at 5 pm on Friday, rather than 7. I apologized profusely and asked the man when he planned upon arriving to pick up his computer.

"Well... what's the damages?" was his reply. When I informed him that his bill post-tax (for parts and labor) was just over $200, he balked. "You see, if you'd gotten to me Friday, I couldda payed that. But over the weekend some utility bills an' shit came up and now you gonna have to wait."

With a shrug I informed him that I would be holding his computer until he payed his bill and that it wouldn't be a problem. After he agreed and went about his way, though, this puzzled me. I mean, not to pass judgment on other people whose circumstances I don't know, but does it strike anyone else as odd that this guy had prioritized computer upgrades over an apparently-urgent utility bill?

In my estimation, I've done this guy a service. After all, if he'd actually gotten his computer on Friday afternoon, by his accounting, he would have had his electricity or his water or something shut off over the weekend. And nobody wants to endure a Texas summer with his water shut off... that's for sure.

Ironic

I have had an irrational fear of needles for as far back as I can recall. This fear is due, in no small part, to my harassment at the hands of my father and brothers. My earliest recollection of this fear was when I was approaching my 5th birthday and being informed that I would have to get a DPT Booster shot... which my father overdramatized, largely due to his own phobia. My 10th birthday was greeted with a wonderful ditty that I believe either one of my brothers fabricated and all three used to mock me from time to time "Ten.. ten... booster shot again." Now, it sounds silly, but taking an individual with a deathly fear of needles and adding insult to injury is how we develop psychoses... or something like that.

Now, as most of you are aware, about two months ago, I was diagnosed as a diabetic. As of about 6 weeks ago, I started sticking myself with a lancet between 1 and 4 times a day to ascertain my blood sugar so as to make sure that I was within the proscribed limits. As I did this again today and milked the hell out of one of my fingers, I realized that the process really didn't bug me anymore... which is a stark contrast from the near-panic that hit me on the fateful day that my sacred life fluid was tapped and stolen to confirm that my blood sugar was over 500 (mg/dL).

And then, as I was reading about the inane decision on the part of the FDA to refuse gay men the option of donating blood, I said to myself... "You know.. I think I could stomach that." Yes, this is the same guy who dragged his wife (then-girlfriend) with him to get a tetanus shot due to the pure terror it struck in his heart. You know what the best part of all of this is (in terms of irony)? For probably the next year, I'm ineligible to donate due to the impetus of my changed perspective: diabetes... until my doctor says I'm properly in treatment, anyways.

Alone in Longview

So... graduation has come and gone. As my wife noted this morning, it's been a week and change since we've actually just spent a night in the house, just the two of us. Not that I'm complaining, mind you... but it does kind of put a damper on my blogging. Not that I really needed help in that respect, but you know how it goes. I'll post some more warped links and transpose an essay from a crinkled up old bulletin and hopefully you'll forgive me. That's how we do these things, right?

Anyways, Randy is in New York, Barbour and Sharpton are at their respective homes in Missouri, Martinez has returned to California, Paige is back in Boerne, Rebecca is back in California for the summer, Gallagher has returned to BFE Nowhere (Greenville), and, until Randy gets back from his little trip to NY (screw you and your pictures that keep showing up in my inbox, Randy) it's just the Wheelers and us in Longview. Damn... that sucks a lot. I mean, you've all abandoned us.... what are we going to do?

Backlog

Well, this is going to be something of a variety post... well, actually, I think I'll post some of the old stuff that I'd written up in the last two weeks on napkins during my lunch breaks and backdate it or something. Yes, yes, things from the fevered mind of the Cynic.

Oh... and a little FAQ stuff regarding the diabetes stuff that I posted yesterday regarding questions that I've gotten over IM and whatnot:

Diabetes, eh? Care to elaborate?

Oh... my bad.... details. I'm still confused that people want to know these things... I try not to know this stuff, and I'm the one with the sickness. Anyways, I have Type II Diabetes and I'm non-insulin dependant. Right now, I'm taking pills twice a day to help regulate my blood sugar, but the idea is to regulate down to where I can go of meds.

Doesn't being diabetic involve sticking yourself with needles? I thought you hated needles.

The Cynic is deathly afraid of needles and refuses to think more about the subject. Kindly refrain from referring to the subject again. -- The Cynic's Subconscious Mind

You sound depressed, are you ok?

I'm quite fine. Please stop worrying if I'm going to die or anything like that. My dying would be too easy for all parties involved... I intend on living long enough to make all of your lives very unpleasant. I wouldn't want Anna to get out of helping pay off my loans that easily either.

Life Happens

I was going to title this one "The Last Mountain Dew"... but I figured I'd try to be slightly serious given that 95% of respondents haven't found this nearly as funny as I have.

You see... I haven't posted for the last two weeks or so because stuff of a rather serious nature has come up and I've kinda been on the fence about it. As some of my more insightful friends will tell you, while I may talk a great deal and tell stories and give my opinions, these things rarely give insight into my own personal trials and difficulties. That's because I prefer to think of myself as invincible and whatnot... and I really would just as soon not advertise problems that I might have. However, this is going to come up with a great many of you sooner or later, and I do like people to tell me stuff... so sometimes that means that I have to share personal stuff as well. After all, my friends like knowing these things... or something.

Anyhow, for the last two months or so (maybe three) I've been drinking an ever-increasing volume of water on a daily basis, experiencing some numbness in my left hand, sweating like crazy and having random, abrupt changes in the quality of my vision (going from 20/20 the next day to 20/80 the next and then perhaps back again 2-3 days later.) So, I began doing a bit of research at about Spring Break and I said "hrmmm.... that's not good." And then I promptly attempted to repress this and hope things would go away... after I told my wife.

So, two weeks ago, my wife informed me that I'd stalled long enough and she was dragging me to the doctor. Turns out, I have diabetes... who'd have guessed?

Now, most of you have spent some time with me in person, but for those who haven't (and I'm not huge on posting pictures, either), I am not a small man. Nor am I a man of small appetites. Oh... and I drink a lot of Coke. Well... drank.

You see, your average person has a blood sugar level of somewhere betweek 120 and 160 or so. 80-180 is the acceptable range, but under 100 and over 160 and things start to get weird in your body. At around 300, the amount of sugar in the body gets to the point where the body begins dumping a significant amount of sugar into urine to get things under control and in poorly-hydrated persons, comas can occur. Typical glucometers measure up to 500 mg/dL... mine was off the top of the chart.

So... the fact that the doctor didn't hospitalize me is probably a Good Thing, but suffice it to say that I've been on meds and strict orders as to what my diet can and can't consist of for the last two weeks. The Tuesday after I registered off the chart, thanks to an assortment of medications and an absence of sugar, I was down to 187. So it would seem that I'm not going to die... except from fear of needles.

You see, I have to get a glucometer of my own (which was finally purchased last night, after a week of procrastinating) and measure my own blood sugar so that I can figure out what food does which to my blood sugar and whatnot. That's sticking myself with a little spring-loaded razorblade and taking my precious bodily fluids and plugging them into a little demon-box that tells me to drink less Coke.

Speaking of Coke... I haven't had one in two weeks, and it sucks. Coke Zero is not Coke and Splenda is not sugar. And needles do not belong in or around my arms. Suffice it to say that this has generally not been fun... but I have to note that my wife has been very supportive and that it looks like I'm not gonna die.

I'm still wondering if that would have been preferable.

Anyone Home?

*beep* *beep* *beep*

Cynic: (mutters) freaking interruptions... (wanders up front to meet customer)

Customer is a man in his late 50s with worn clothing and disheveled hair.

Customer: What do y'all do?

Cynic: Well, Sir, we build, upgrade and repair computers and provide IT support for businesses and home users.

Customer (confused): So y'all could look at my Compaq and fix it.

Cynic: Yes I could and I'd be happy to do so.

Customer: Could y'all look at my computer then?

Cynic: Uh... sure.

Customer exits and Cynic goes back to grab a couple of tools. After waiting for a minute or two for the customer to return, the Cynic notes that the customer appears to be fooling with something in his truck. He then notices the customer approaching the door with a large CRT monitor as a middle-aged woman comically stumbles along behind with a tower that is still attached to the monitor by several cables. This parade continues into the store until the man sets the monitor mid-floor to catch his breath.

Cynic: Sir, I really don't need your monitor. Cynic makes sweeping gesture at several monitors. I have some of my own.

Customer: Well, I need ya to test mine and make sure it works.

Cynic: "Ok..." Cynic attaches monitor to computer and indicates to Customer that it does, indeed, work.

Customer: You sure you don't want to keep it to test my computer... it ain't never really worked right.

Cynic: Sir, your monitor is large, bulky and unnecessary. For all intents and purposes, one monitor is exactly the same as another... please take your monitor.

Customer: But I'll need you to show me how to hook it up when I come back and I don't want to take it home and bring it all the way back.

Cynic: Sir, like I said, one monitor is essentially the same as another. Here, I'll show you now with your monitor and when you come back, I can show you again with one of mine. The connection is color-coded and everything and this is the only 25-pin connection on the back of your computer that matches this connector on your monitor. See? It's very simple.

Customer: What about them two knobs there?

Cynic: Knobs?

Customer indicates screws on either side of the cable

Cynic: Oh... those tighten in to hold the cable in place.

Customer: How do I use them?

Cynic (giving the customer a strange look): You tighten them in to hold the cable in and you loosen them to pull the cable out. They're just little screws to makes sure the cable doesn't come out accidentally.

At this point, having slipped out unobtrusively a minute earlier, Customer's Wife returns with a keyboard, mouse, and two speakers, along with a fax machine.

Customer: Oh yeah, could you make sure all of that stuff works too?

Cynic: Listen sir, I'll be happy to make sure that your fax machine works with your computer, but as for the rest of this stuff, I'll be happy to show you how it hooks up and assure you that it works when you come back to get it.

Customer: But I don't know how to hook it...

Cynic (interrupting): Yes, I know, and I"ll show you when you come to pick it up. after I know that the computer works properly. Now, let me help you guys out with this monitor.

Cynic promptly picks up The Giant CRT and lugs it out the door, leaving Customer to follow along.

Spring Break Open Thread 2007: The Winners

Yes... I know, it's not the morning. The problem is, while Toad has clearly won the quantity prize, I'm not so sure if anyone won the quality prize. So... here's what I'm gonna do... another contest.

Go through the comments and find the comment that you feel should win the quality contest and leave a comment here advocating that comment. The most well-advocated comment will be rewarded, as will its advocate. Oh... and you can't advocate your own comments... sorry. Oh... and I'm not advocating for anyone unless I'm well-bribed.

Spring Break Open Thread 2007

Because I don't get a Spring Break, because Wilson's blog is on indefinate hiatus, and because I am bored and in dire need of silliness, I am stealing the Open Thread for this year's Spring Break.

This year's rules:

1) No flamingos.

2) No singing, dancing, smoking, drinking, or speaking in strange tongues.

3) Polysyllabic words and those which use more than 5 letters of the alphabet are strictly forbidden.

4) Posts containing more than two hyperlinks are also forbidden, unless:

4a) Said links are to amusing websites... and then all posts with links are forbidden.

5) No quibbling, snivelling, cavorting, bandying, perambulating, prognosticating, equivocating or verbing.

6) There is to be no campaigning for candidates in various elections - imagined or not.

7) As always, contestants who post after 1 am will be disqualified.

Suitable prizes will be distributed in the way I feel most appropriate to such contributors who fulfill one or more of the following categories (or at my discretion): (a) the most frequent commenter and (b) the commenter who breaks the rules the most effectively. As always, all LU alumni and students are welcome to participate, but this is not limited to you.

Winners will be announced after the thread closes... probably. Oh, and the thread closes at 11:59 p.m. (Central) on the 18th (Sunday).

Month Off

Since everyone else gets a spring break and I don't, I guess I decided to take the month of February off. Though, as Wilson notes, everyone seems to be posting with more frequency than I am. We are taking steps to change that, effective immediately.

Longview Vacation

Wilson crashed here last night after we sat up for a while and chatted about his graduate program and the politics attendant thereto. I had to get up entirely too early to drive Anna to school... oh, the joys of only having one car.

Anyways, so Wilson and I got out the door, grabbed some breakfast and tried to get Wheeler up for LAMP. Turns out that Wheeler didn't want to be on time, so Wilson and I went on ahead (stopping briefly in the Ice Cave for me to actually eat breakfast) to a fortuitously-timed Friday LAMP... with Dr. Batts 'officiating.'

I honestly didn't know that Dr. Batts could talk for such a short stretch of time, as the homily he gave was short even by Episcopal standards. Now, granted, it was a homily filled with Batts-style repetition ("Did you know that we're in the Church season of Epiphany?"), but I was amazed at its brevity.

After chapel, the SC descended upon Heath-Hardwick as is our custom. Oh... and Dr. K has discovered that he has access to the old CPI forums. That's right, the halcyon days of yore are with us again. I'll be attempting to log on and recover those in the days ahead.

So, taunting Dr. Woodring, K and Johnson was jolly good fun... but there was lunch to be had. Off to Joe's with the Wheelers and Wilson, where we met with my friend Luis and his girlfriend. Lunch was good, as Joe's always is.

Back to campus, where Gallagher finally arrived. With the four of us together in the Ice Cave for the first time since Wilson and Wheeler graduated, we decided to capitalize on the oppurtunity and forcibly eject the usurpers. Actually, we didn't... after all, Randy's art would have gone with him, and I must admit that it's a far sight more attractive than the old matador painting. Not that I mind the matador... but it's not exactly high-quality.

Oh... remember how I dropped my wife off at school? Turns out, she wanted to be picked up at the end of a hard day of work. So we did... except that we went by way of the loop... where there was a train. The train wasn't just crossing the road, the train was stopped... and showing no signs of moving. So we back-tracked and ended up being a bit late picking up Anna. Yay for stupid Longview.

After retrieving my wife, we returned to our apartment so Wilson could grab another shower before enduring his 30-some hour train trek. I've always thought there ought to be nicer train services for people who don't want to endure the railway version of Greyhound... but that's just me. After that, we joined the rest of the crew for a bite to eat and then we sent Wilson on his way to Chicago and on through to Syracuse. Send him an email if you get a chance... it's a long train ride.

The evening was finished out by playing cards at the Wheeler abode and going to see Stranger than Fiction with the Wheelers and the Dirty Old Man. I'll probably write about Stranger than Fiction later... but suffice to say that it more or less boils down to a more-amusing-than-usual chick flick. While I was hoping for something more, as a chick flick, one could do far, far worse. But Will Ferrell in a chick flick? That's just messed up.

Visitations by Wilson

So Wilson is in Longview until tomorrow. After an enjoyable but all-too-brief lunch with Wilson, Wheeler, Dr. Johnson and Dr. Watson, I find myself back at work, grinding away.

Word has it that Wilson is haunting the HHH offices even as we speak. We'll probably do a bit more of that tomorrow where I'll be taking a day off to enjoy with Wilson and Wheeler. I hear that Gallagher will even be driving in from Greenville to mark the occasion.

The Joys of Microsoft

So this morning I said to myself, "Self, I think I'd like to listen to some music today." So I went over and hooked up the NAS that we keep in the back that has some 70 GB of music on it (all legal, of course.) Now, because I'm lazy and didn't want to go hunt down the network name or address of the NAS (which is necessary to get the music) I figured I'd just use the UPnP (Universal Plug and Play... it's a network service that lets you use network stuff seamlessly like it was on your computer) functionality on the NAS to my advantage. Problem is, Windows XP frequently doesn't install and enable UPnP by default... so I went and found the install option and started it... and then it asked for the XP disk. Well... I was kinda busy at the moment and didn't have the disk handy, so I cancelled the install so as to get back to it later. And that's where the fun began.

Upon cancelling the install, most of my network functionality ceased. I could open up the remote share on the server, but I couldn't use web browsers and I couldn't use any of my internet-connecting programs... at all. Several hours of attempted fixes later, here I am, reinstalling Windows (after the repair failed.) Granted, given a couple of days, I could probably find a fix... this isn't unfixable. But I don't have the time. This is the one computer in the world that I need working almost all of the time. So here I am... reloading windows. At least this time I'm not installing x64 edition.

Unexplained Absence

It seems that over holidays, I get lazy. Thanksgiving approached, and I went AWOL. Christmas came, and I did likewise. Bad Cynic.

So... I will be attempting to post daily. The thing about getting behind is that once you get backlogged, you're reluctant to catch up. Maybe I'll back-date to the first of the year and make it a New Year's resolution to post daily. Yeah... I think I'll do that.

Cynic on Hiatus

So where did I go for the last month? Well... it started out as something of a break by virtue of the fact that I was swamped at work. And by the time I got that sorted out, I was waiting for a post to come to me, and then it was the computer and so on it goes. But I figure I owe it to myself to go and backlog and stuff... if only for my own mind in posterity.

Oh, I'm not on hiatus... I'm back from hiatus.

Bachelor on the Loose

I an scheduled to put Anna on a plane to Austin this afternoon. I am then a bachelor until Friday. Consider yourself warned.

Two Freaking Weeks?!

Two weeks at the RMA facility in Kentucky after they receive my motherboard before they ship it back.

#@$#$*

As a note, the email from ASUS regarding the RMA is copied in all of its 1995-era HTML glory below the fold...

Dear Sir or Madam:

***Please note if your product is one of the following, please return your product with the following accessory:

P5 series Motherboards-Please make sure to put the CPU Cap back on the motherboard to prevent pins from bending. If it is returned without the CPU Cap the product may incur a fee to have the product repaired or rejected back to you.

VGA CARDS - MUST be accompanied with the fan/heatsink, otherwise it will be rejected as physical damage.****

A8N SLI Deluxe-If you use only 1 video card with this product, please return the EZ Selector Card so that it may be properly tested as well***

Attention your package to RMA department. Do not attention your package to an RMA representative, unless instructed otherwise.

Freaking RMA

So... yeah, my motherboard is getting RMA'ed. Woo-hoo.

On the upside, I'm not going insane... at least about my computer. Nor did I set my motherboard setting wrong. Yeah... my motherboard is just a lemon.

Hey, I had to call at 5.30 am pst to get through, but get though I did.

Happy birthday to me.

Motherboard Woes

You see, all along here, my secret fear is that my motherboard just hasn't been set correctly. It should be noted that the ASUS Crosshair is a fine piece of electronics and machinery and that it makes me happy.... but it's a finnicky piece of work, owing largely to its complex overclocking system and recent release. To make a long story short, it's much more designed for you to configure it than for it to configure itself, because that's what overclockers typically want to do. I mean, who wants stock settings... honestly?

So, I called up ASUS, hoping that my settings wouldn't be jacked and, if they were, someone would correct me.

Step 1: "If you have internet, go to http://livesupport.asus.com ... it's way faster.

This sounded like a good idea... until I went to http://livesupport.asus.com and noted that while the open hours said: "5:30am-9pm (pst)" and it was clearly 11 am central (which is 9 am pacific), the little box said "Live Chat is CLOSED."

Stupid ASUS... and back to the phones.

Step 2: Wait on hold... where an "average of 10 minutes" becomes 30

Seriously... how the hell is the average 10 minutes? Do they take the average over the course of the year or what?

And when I did get ahold of someone, he informed me that they were really swamped and if I took a number, I'd get a call back. I informed him that I'd only be at work for another 3 hours and asked him where they should call me. He estimated that it might take them longer than 3 hours to reach me.

"So when should I hear from you guys?"
Response: "Sometime today?"

That was 2 pm. It's now 5 minutes until their 11 pm central close time. And I still haven't heard from them. You know... with Wilson no longer policing me... I think I will say that I hate the bastards at ASUS. I'd be using stronger language, but little old ladies read this blog.

Tomorrow, it's war.

Oh... yeah, step 3?

Step 3: Send an email to tech support

Response time is typically 48 hours... they closed my case after 4 with no resolution. Go figure. I'm so pissed right now that I'm inarticulate.

RMA?

The drama of my computer building continues. After bringing the other computer here at work online (I'll tell the story about that sometime when I'm not angry already), I swapped video cards... and, lo and behold, my video card works in the other system and its video card (which works in other computers) doesn't work in mine. The plot thickens.

I'm pretty sure it's my motherboard at this point (as I'm mostly out of other things it COULD be) and thus, it's time to call ASUS.

RMA Is On

Yesterday and this morning, the weasels at EVGA failed to inform me that even after I paid money for the cross-shipping service, actually getting the RMA number for the next-day cross-shipping takes 2-3 business days. Stupid telephone monkeys. Well, it's ordered now.

Suspect #1

W