Category Archives: About Me - Page 18

The Business Life

Posted by anachostic on February 13, 2018 No comments

Recently, I was given the opportunity to go on a business trip for my employer. The event required a technical person for the upcoming work and this was supposed to be training and exposure. I had done business trips in the past, but this gave me a whole different perspective on “the life”.

Another aspect of this meeting was that the host of the event wanted to show off their brand new building. I didn’t really give it much thought. An office building is like any other, right? Nope. And that all played into the discomfort I felt. So let’s start at the beginning.

When I was told about the trip, I was also told that the company travel coordinator would handle everything. So, right off the bat, I’m a little out of my comfort zone. You know, if I was tasked to go somewhere, I would be looking for the cheapest flight anywhere. Well, that’s not how business travel works. I end up on a top-tier airline in what I assume is a decent seat. As you know, you don’t get decent seats for cheap. They cost extra. I don’t know, my airfare was around $500. That’s more than I would be willing to spend. And also, there’s six of us going. Yeah, six.

So we all get to the destination and we Uber to the hotel. I’m not really a fan of Uber, but that’s for another post, and it’s not my decision to make anyway. And the hotel is a Staybridge Suites hotel. Everyone gets a suite! Now, I don’t expect us to bunk together, but I don’t need lodgings this fancy. No way. It’s our first night and we all go out to dinner. Company expense, of course. Steakhouse? Sure. Longhorn? Outback? Fuck, no. It’s not our money, let’s go to Perry’s. You can’t eat there for less than $60/plate. And of course, everyone drinks. It was easily a $600 bill, I’m certain of it.

Day one at our host’s new office building. This is not an office building, it is a goddamn resort. It has a cafeteria, an exercise room, a balcony garden, another café with barista on the upper floor, a game room, and technology that would make most humans gawk in amazement. Maybe it’s the new modern standard for a national company, but like Perry’s, it’s way out of my league.

The conference goes all day. We get catered lunch and we get a tour of the building. They’re quite proud of it. At the conclusion of the tour, there is a social gathering with beer and wine and snacks too fancy and weird for me to even eat. I’m watching all these people chatting and mingling, and the cute girls in the short skirts sitting on the bar counter with their wine, and I’m wondering, this is business? In what world is this business? This one, apparently.

Our group got dinner reservations for Del Friscos, another $60/plate steakhouse. I man up and say, fuck all y’all, I’m staying in my room (no, my fucking SUITE) and ordering pizza. It was a great pizza and only put the company out $25. I was ordered to save the receipt for reimbursement. It would have been fine, guys. You know, you pay me pretty well already.

My point of this rant, which I’ve done before, is that there is this executive life that is not available to normal folk. I’m kind of in it, right on the cusp, but I don’t agree with it. I don’t like it. It’s living in a fantasy, where you get to feel like you’re super rich, but you’re not. And you only get to act and feel that way because of your employer. The employer that is putting out gobs of money disproportionately for a select few, when it could be spent on others in the company who are nowhere near that sort of lifestyle. And who would appreciate it more?

The Worst Developer

Posted by anachostic on February 12, 2018 No comments

I think it’s a universal truth that no matter where you work, you hate the software that you have to use. And it’s even more true when that software is written internally, meaning not store-bought or otherwise 3rd party. As someone who writes this type of software that everyone hates, I can understand the frustrations. But this story is about the software that I didn’t write, but was written by and for the company I was working for.

The particular software was primarily written by one person, who had been with the company since the start, which was decades. I was supposed to create the software that would replace it, but the company went under before that came to fruition. However, I did have enough of an opportunity to shed a ray of hope that better things were coming, at least software-wise.

The purpose of this maligned software was order entry and contact management. It was used by the sales force to create quotes, sales, credit memos, and also to track membership for the company’s special program. For as long as I could discern, there was friction between the sales team and management. Aside from mutual distrust, there was also resentment in that the company wanted to micromanage how things were done on the floor.

The company came up with a very precise, very specific way of selling from which no one was to deviate. And the software was written entirely to enforce that specific methodology. The people on the sales floor obviously didn’t subscribe to this methodology and simply felt that they were being treated as human robots, without any free will to conduct the sales transaction in the way they felt comfortable doing. The software developer constantly complained that the users were not using the software correctly and were always figuring out loopholes, which became bugs.

I have a lasting impression from my first few days working there when I was in training for that software. That impression was validated by another user near the end of my time at the company. After sitting through the training session, I felt like a complete idiot. I didn’t understand anything. Nothing made sense. And it was all because the software was written so terribly. And that feeling made me question my capabilities for working at that company. I tried to reassure myself that it was just because I was unfamiliar with the industry, but the user that confirmed my feelings was an industry pro and couldn’t understand the software either.

There were many issues that I took with the software. The first was the ridiculous color scheme and color choices throughout. It screamed “amateur”, and when I’ve been formally trained to write professional business software, this was not acceptable. Required fields were highlighted – in yellow. And not pastel yellow, the eye-bleeding danger yellow.

Taking that issue further, there were many dialogs that used “folksy” language. There was no “Cancel” button. Instead, you had a “Forget It” button. Unless it was a “Never Mind” button (which has a keyboard shortcut of Alt-V, because Alt-N to suggest “No” would be too much for a user to understand).

You had an option to “Undo Previous Whoops” on a dialog that asked specifically, “What Do You Want To Do?”

Here’s some messages the application could pop up:

Programmer Goof – Trying to use Add code for something else!
This Credit Memo will result in a net credit to the member of $x.xx. Is this what you intended?
Does Member desire a refund check from Corporate?
Is this Credit Memo being created to "Undo" this Sales Order as though it never existed?
Whoops — too many windows are open. Close some windows and try again.
You have tried to pick up more than was ordered. Please RTFS and re-enter valid amount in correct box. (The application’s name started with “F”, which was a convenient out if he was ever accused of telling the user to “read the fucking screen”.)

I mentioned that the software was written to enforce the sales procedure as defined by the company. This actually caused a big headache at one point because they changed policy one time which required a lot of code changes to support it. But anyway, when you would start a new sale or quote, you would be prompted with question after question about how the sales was to take place. These questions were supposed to be asked to the customer, which would prep the sales form with certain data. As you would suspect, the questions were all worded folksy and unprofessionally, and most were pointless, only nagging at the sales person to upsell this or that and don’t forget to ask about this. Some examples:

Don’t forget SUNDRIES!!!
We’re Pushin’ Cushion!!!
How ya gonna Cut it, Glue it and Dress it Up???
Whatcha gonna put it on? How you gonna seal it?
What’s gonna keep it down?
How you gonna keep it quiet?
How you gonna cut it, glue it and finish it off?
What’s gonna keep it from slidin’ around?

Because the entire process was so drawn out and pointless, the sales staff started memorizing the keystrokes that would let them fly through the popups and just get to a blank sales form. The developer, when he learned of this practice, was furious. They were skipping over all the hard work he put in to make them do their job correctly – the only way to do it correctly. So he took action. To keep them from skipping through the screens, he randomized the buttons on the popups.

Yes, it may sound absolutely incredible, but this developer literally made the application more difficult to use on purpose by changing the interface to require the user to read the screen. What was lost on him was that the user wasn’t reading the questions on the screen, they were only reading the buttons to find out what they had to click next. And if they misread anything, they got a sales form that wasn’t what they needed and had to start over.

And this developer was very proud of his work. He had defeated the users. And that really was his only goal. Not to make things better; only to win. And when he wins, everyone else loses.

Holding On

Posted by anachostic on February 7, 2018 No comments

I read a recent post by AK that flew right in the face of a hobby I’ve been cultivating. It’s something I’ve been doing for a little while and is really only one facet of the other side of the Letting Go story. The hobby (and obsession for some) is “archival”.

First, I’m no stranger to purges and I feel the same satisfaction from downsizing as anyone with too much stuff would. However, sometimes, regret comes back to haunt me. It’s not the loss of a blender or a stack of towels that I miss. It’s usually something less utility and more historically significant, which usually carries some emotion with it. When I say historically significant, I don’t mean like a piece of the Berlin wall, I mean something that represents a period of your life. And even though there is emotion and significance behind it, there is also a strong element of uselessness.

I’ve read a little on the KonMari method and internally nodded my head up until I got to the point where it was explained that we hold on to things for two main reasons: the future and the past. In the case of the future, we don’t want to get rid of something because we may have a future use for it. That’s a rational argument, but I usually tackle that by reminding myself that when I need it in the future, I can buy the latest and greatest version of what I need. (Ironically, the latest version of most things will probably be made shoddier and overall be worse in quality, so…) That kind of mindset would make older generations freak out. How wasteful!

In the case of the past, which is where my archivist neuroses kick in, you are afraid of losing a bit of your identity. The modern philosophy is to live in the present, which, expressed in outrageous terms, is hedonistic. If you disregard your past and do not plan your future, what is life? A day-to-day experience with no permanence.

And, many would agree, the past is highly important, on a personal and societal level. I’m not going to go to the levels of psychoarchivists who want to preserve absolutely everything, but I do believe that you need to have a record of your past in more than simple digital records.

I have a box in which I keep all my ephemera. I have items going back to my teenage years, which I believe are personally socially significant. One of the most useless things I have is a rubber hand with formable fingers. Yes, at the time, it was usually used to flip people off and it has literally zero value today, but it’s a part of my part and is a useful prop when sharing my life story with someone. Everybody loves props.

I have an old horoscope paper which used to be sold in little plastic tubes back in the day. I have memorabilia from past jobs – old name tags, signs, magnets. You could find some of these things in thrift shops and consignment stores and that is where the great disconnect happens. People think these things have value. They only have value to the person who acquired them. You can’t buy a memory from a store. I would never try to replace anything from my memory box from a store. Like a child’s replacement teddy bear, it’s not the same.

So back to the KonMari method. You might surmise that I would keep everything in my memory box because it gave me joy. That’s not entirely true. It rekindles a memory. And more importantly, the loss of not having those items is greater than the cost of keeping them. There is a time in a friendship where you finally feel comfortable baring yourself for another person, and that is when the memory box comes out and is shared. To not have a physical record of your personal highs and lows would be a shame. You can flash all the photos and videos on the screen that you want, but to be able to touch someone’s past is unique and special.

A Happy Meal For These Days

Posted by anachostic on January 24, 2018 No comments

Eating is generally a pleasurable experience. Carrabbas says, “There is no love more sincere than the love of food.” Dining out with friends (not as often with family) is a cheerful event, with conversation and company and also, food. For McDonalds to try and bundle this whole thing up into a box and call it a Happy Meal is sort of pointless. It’s a meal, it’s happy as it is.

But there are times, sometimes often, where your thoughts are not together, or you’re not feeling particularly social. Maybe you have no one to be with. A word comes to mind: melancholy. When you look up the definition, “melancholy” sounds much more severe than I mean it to be. So, although Melancholy Meal would be a pretty awesome name, I prefer to just keep it simple and call it SadMeal.

I have two SadMeal restaurants, one for work and one for home. At work, I go to Long John Silvers. Part of the reason this is my SadMeal location is that no one would ever go there with me, so I can be assured I’ll be there alone. The whole “misery loves company” thing is completely bogus. No one wants to be around a miserable person.

I want to take the opportunity to explain this LJS place I go to. They are religious. I mean, they are in-your-face, repent-now, religious. Some part of me wonders if they chose LJS as a franchise because of the fishing metaphors from the bible. Another part of me wonders if they are going way too far and that YUM! Brands should maybe have a talk with them. We’re talking constant preaching radio on the sound system, tracts on the tables, a TV playing cartoon stories from the bible, and more.

So, some might think that if I’m sad and I go to a place that’s highly religious, I should feel comforted. Isn’t that the point of religion? To provide comfort? But that’s not the point of SadMeal. The point is to eat – alone, with my thoughts. The religion is just an annoyance.

When I am home, SadMeal is my nearest Subway. It’s not so much chosen as a place to get away from everyone, like it is at work. I mean, I can stay at home and feel however I want. Subway is chosen more of a default when I can’t decide on what I want to eat and nothing sounds like it would cheer me up. If Subway marketed like Carrabbas, their tagline might be, “Sincerity is for idiots. Eat this cheap, stale bread and indulge your misery.” And that is what makes Subway my SadMeal. It’s self-pity for not being able to choose a better meal.

Back in 15th-century England, you could be hospitalized for melancholy. Not really hospitalized, but committed to an asylum. Now, in 21st-century America, you can commit yourself to a meal. Embrace your emotions and have a SadMeal tonight.

I’ll Take Spam For $400, Alex

Posted by anachostic on January 21, 2018 No comments

Those of you WordPressers who have been around for a while probably know that spam comments are inevitable. WordPress has a pretty good spam catcher built into it, so you may never see any comments come in that are flat-out fake. But, spammers are a persistent bunch. Well, I wouldn’t actually call them persistent, but they do have cheap and easy scripts that will blast any blog with stupidity. And yesterday, I was hit by a gentleman named Alex.

Obviously, Alex is not a real person. But Alex’s profile is run by a real person. A real shitty person. What’s the purpose of these spam comments? Alex doesn’t have an associated website, so it’s not trying to create linkbacks to improve a spam website’s search ranking. Maybe they’re trying to build a profile with some posting reputation to increase the status of a future blog on some nefarious subject?

Anyway, the gold is in the comments, right? So let’s see how Alex felt about my posts.

Alex liked this post so much, he commented twice.

I am now not positive the place you are getting your info, however good topic. I needs to spend a while studying much more or understanding more. Thanks for great information I used to be looking for this information for my mission.

and

You actually make it seem so easy together with your presentation however I find this matter to be actually one thing that I think I would never understand. It sort of feels too complex and very large for me. I am looking ahead to your next submit, I’ll attempt to get the hang of it!

Then he moved on to another post and left me this comment:

Excellent blog here! Also your site so much up very fast! What host are you the use of? Can I am getting your associate hyperlink in your host? I desire my site loaded up as quickly as yours lol

Then Alex handed the reins to his friend, Madeline Whitehead. She commented on the same post:

you’re really a excellent webmaster. The web site loading velocity is incredible. It seems that you’re doing any unique trick. Also, The contents are masterwork. you have done a great activity in this matter!

Alex and Madeline went off and had sex and in a virtual universe where events happen at breathtaking speed, they had a baby, who grew up and married a dirtbag at the age of 8 (the age of consent in Spamtopia). And within 6 hours I got her first work of art. Behold the handiwork of Kristin Harding:

You actually make it seem really easy along with your presentation however I find this matter to be actually one thing which I feel I might by no means understand. It sort of feels too complicated and extremely broad for me. I am looking ahead in your subsequent submit, I’ll attempt to get the dangle of it!

Clearly, she is Alex’s spawn as she plagiarizes his work quite well. But being the spam slut she is, she couldn’t help herself by mentioning she wanted my dangle.

My GPS History

Posted by anachostic on January 5, 2018 No comments

It was back in 2008 that Woot sold me my first GPS unit, a Mio 720T.

Being new to the GPS world, I was pretty enthralled. This particular unit I ended up giving to my now ex-wife, and I bought a lower-end model, the Mio 320.

This one didn’t have a lot of the nicer features of the 720, but it was very hackable, and I was able to add voice navigation and spoken road names, which wasn’t a feature that came natively. In fact, the device was rootable, and I had installed a lot of different software on the device. You could actually get to the desktop of the base Windows CE system. It was a cool experience.

One of the other things I remember about that unit was its pickiness about the power cable. It always wanted to jump into USB storage mode, like it was plugged into a computer. I don’t remember exactly what I did to fix it, but I suspect the rooting of the device assisted in that.

The problem with the Mio is that it was inaccurate. The UI was really awesome, though, so I put up with it for a very long time. It wasn’t until 2014 that Woot offered a decent replacement, a Garmin Nuvi. A totally no-frills GPS device.

This was a great little GPS. It did everything I needed, which wasn’t much. After I learned to make the UI a bit more data-happy, it became the ideal device for me. This device lasted a little while, but failed due to the USB connector breaking in the back. One day, I was simply unable to get it to charge anymore and as the battery wore down, I felt a little sad. Like this was the last time it was ever going to operate. There was no way to recharge it. The long walk down the green mile.

In 2016, Woot sold me a new GPS, this one with a dash cam built in. Prior to that, I had experimented with using a cell phone as a dash cam and the results were sort of mixed. I was driving without a GPS and I missed that convenience, but I couldn’t see mounting both GPS and dash cam devices on the windshield; that was ridiculous. That meant my next GPS unit was a Magellan.

This unit was kind of a shock to me, because I had gotten so familiar with the Garmin UI. Everything that was different about the Magellan, I hated. Over time, I learned to live with it, but I never really liked it. It wasn’t worth the effort to become emotionally invested anyway, because the device quickly developed a problem where the touchscreen would not register your touches in the right place. Your clicks would activate buttons a quarter-inch to the right of your finger. This made it impossible to click buttons on the left side of the screen. And that gap grew over time, eventually making the device unusable. It had other issues too, like never really muting. It would screech whenever the speaker would normally make sound, even though it was muted. It was unpleasant.

A little over a year later, Woot offered a Garmin DriveAssist 50LMT dashcam/GPS and I jumped on the chance to get it. Looking at the specs, I was pretty awed. It was a technological marvel. But the reality of this device is what I am writing about today.

To say that this device is overkill is an understatement. There are so many features packed into this thing that I’ve disabled, and there’s more I want to disable if I can find out where to do it. But let’s start right at the beginning. Garmin is kind like the Apple of the GPS world. They’re the biggest and the most popular, so they feel they can write the rules. And like Apple, they lock you in. The GPS won’t charge unless you’re using an actual Garmin power cable. That is bullshit. Fortunately, the Internet can show you how to modify a USB cable to work with these devices. However, the unit complains every time I start it up that the power cord doesn’t have a Traffic Antenna in it, so traffic reporting is disabled. That’s fine, but the dialog doesn’t time out; you have to click OK every time. Ugh.

So I have it powered up and running, now I have to deal with the map. They have icons for everything – food, gas, bank, attractions, whatever. There’s no room to see the roads! Then there’s the notifications – school zone, speed limit changes, sharp turn ahead, railroad tracks. Then there’s the alerts. This thing will tell you when traffic starts moving in front of you, when you drift out of your lane, or when you’re going to collide with someone. The end result is that something is happening on that fucking screen all the time. All the time. That is not what I want from a GPS. And it’s not something anyone should want. Seriously, like I hear an alert and look over to see “Forward Collision Warning” when I should a) already know this is a possibility and b) be looking ahead to take defensive action.

It has really opened my eyes as to the practicality of these warning systems. I’ve recently seen a commercial for a car with accident avoidance that alerts, “Brake!” It’s probably too late to do anything about braking at that point, despite whatever distraction the alert causes. I got a lot of false alarms last night that I was going to collide with a truck that was passing me on the right and others saying I was drifting out of my lane. How accurate is this technology?

I’m unconvinced that alert systems are beneficial. I think we need less alerts and more information. I think 360 degree cameras would be a great benefit. Of course, I say this while I’m surrounded by idiots who don’t think going 20 MPH over the flow of traffic and weaving between cars is any sort of danger. But for now, I’m turning off every alert I can and just returning this state-of-the-art device to the same functionality level I had from my 2014 Garmin.

Bringing It Back

Posted by anachostic on January 4, 2018 No comments

A couple of months ago, I picked up a new keyboard at a thrift shop. As the holidays were approaching, I only had a few moments to spend any time with it. I did a quick cleaning and test of the device and found it was… weird. Something was really odd sounding about the patches when I played them. I don’t have perfect pitch, but I can hear well enough to know when something is out of key. And that’s what the problem sounded like.

The phenomenon was very weird, because as I would play songs that are completely familiar to me, I would screw up while playing them. Not because of any sloppiness or difference in the keyboard action, it was because my ears were hearing a different pitch than I was playing on the keyboard, so my fingers would try to compensate for that and stretch to the wrong next key. Like I would play a C and know the next note is a D, but my ear hears a B and my fingers think I have to stretch over an extra key to get to the D. Just a mess.

I did try some repair on the keyboard a little bit afterwards. After opening it up, I found the pitch and mod wheel cable was disconnected, and it looked like something had been spilled inside. I pulled the keys that looked like they’d been affected by the spill and cleaned them. The contacts looked fine. And then, right in the middle of that procedure, the holidays came back, so I had to close the keyboard all up and store it again. Along the way, I found I had lost 4 springs for the keys I had cleaned. Not lost, but they had fallen out.

The other night, I pulled the beast back out and set about some trial and error troubleshooting. During a previous round of testing, I had discovered there really was a pitch problem and my primary suspect was the aftertouch ribbon. So after I replaced the missing key springs, I did a quick test with the aftertouch cables disconnected. Perfect sound! I reconnected the pitch and mod wheel cable and it still worked fine. Things are looking up!

I considered the restoration project a success. I had a functional 88-key keyboard for $100. Who could complain about that? Well, maybe I could complain that I had nowhere to set the thing up. And having this massive electronic device made me miss the even bigger electronic device I nearly gave away. That one was a real monster:

equinox88pro

Maybe one day I’ll write about the experience of trading this killer keyboard for a little tiny mixer. Maybe it’ll include the confrontation with the sales guy at Guitar Center.

I have some desire to do some music. To have all these devices and not make use of them is a shame. And ridiculously, I have some desire to recollect my original keyboards, maybe in rackmount form, so I can have my original inspiring sounds.

Things were different back then. Things were more simple and also more difficult. But the difficulty didn’t matter at the time because there wasn’t any other option. You had to be daring and involved and willing to expend effort. Now, expending the effort is rather a big deal. I have a lot of software to set up, some hardware to configure, patches to configure, and eventually some audio routing will be needed. These things aren’t conducive to creativity.

As I’ve been rebuilding my playing stamina and relearning some of my old compositions (which I’m very saddened to find I’ve forgotten a lot), I’ve been debating putting some of them online. I actually have some old video of my playing from 2009 but I doubt it’s usable. Production values have skyrocketed since then, so I’d probably need to record the video and audio separately, then mix them together to get the best quality. More setup, more effort, less creativity.

Additionally, I’ve got yet another future audio project that is going to require the full recording setup effort, so maybe it’s happening sooner than I think. Here’s to 2018 having a more diverse creative output.

How’s It Going Down There?

Posted by anachostic on January 2, 2018 No comments

If you haven’t noticed, it’s cold. Fucking cold. In fact, it’s so cold, we need a song for it.

Oh, the weather outside is bullshit
Too crappy for even a fire pit
And going outside is on hold
It’s fucking cold, fucking cold, fucking cold

So where I’m at, we’re going to have lows in the 30’s and highs only in the 50’s. That is totally unacceptable. I chose to leave the wasteland to come here and I don’t need the weather following me. I’m just a little bit sensitive to this whole temperature thing right now and I think I have a good reason.

There is no heat in my goddamn house.

Yup, the HVAC unit that failed on me a few times this year and let me broil (I guess bake is a more appropriate cooking metaphor) in my house over the summer has now fucked me from the other direction. And being a guy, that’s an undesirable situation. Uh, a straight guy, I guess I need to clarify.

So, if you hadn’t guessed, it’s cold in here. Not as cold as it is out there, but it’s in the mid 60’s. Let me check… Current temp 66 degrees, feels like 40 degrees. So, similar to how I went into emergency mode when the cooling went out, I’ve done the same for my heating crisis. I closed all the rooms off and I’m heating the bedroom with a tiny little space heater.

s-l1000

This exact one, from the 80’s, shown almost actual size.

So my plan tonight is to not get hypothermia, put every blanket I have on the bed, and call the A/C people tomorrow. Will it be a $50 fuse or a $5000 replacement? Who knows? Can’t wait to find out.

What Did You Do This Weekend?

Posted by anachostic on January 2, 2018 No comments

Oh yeah? How was that experience?

Let’s start with the night before any of this. Actually, we can go back a little further, because I already said I pulled my fitness tracker out of retirement and as such, made at least a small commitment to addressing my declining health. I’d been walking pretty regularly, maybe 2.5 miles a day, weekdays. Then, I decided to address the issue with my bike and get road tires so that I could use the bike on a stationary stand and get some higher cardio benefits. And then I agreed to at least try exercising with the GF on the weekends I was over there. So, in my mind, I was committing to one day a week of a real workout.

The night before the first workout, I was hit with anxiety. I don’t get anxiety, but that’s just another “don’t” that was destined to fall this weekend. I woke up in the middle of the night and my heart was pounding. Like pounding so hard it was making my breathing stutter. I did eventually fall asleep again, but had a poor sleep and woke up the next morning little unchanged.

Normally, I don’t worry about things. I have a “just do it” mindset and just go, ignoring whatever consequences there might be. This time was different. This felt like going to the dentist, where I just disassociate and become a zombie. (Although my current dentist is pretty amazing and although I’m over the fear of most procedures, some are still unknown.) So, we get to the gym (a “box” in their terms) and I’m just sitting against the wall staying away from everyone. I had no idea what to say, do, or behave. I wasn’t sure if I would be guided or just left to figure it out on my own.

We start out with a warmup – running. The only time I can ever remember running was doing track events in summer school, like 30 years ago. But running is instinctual, so I just did it. I got winded pretty quickly. My mouth dried out and that was it for me. But that wasn’t it for the workout. That was the “warmup”. There was also stretching and some other stuff I don’t even remember anymore. Oh yeah, ring rows in place of pull ups. Couldn’t do ‘em. I think I was on my third set when my body gave out. I was near passing out and every time I mentally set myself to expend the effort to do a set of rows, nausea welled up in me.

So that first day, I figure I was only able to do half a workout. Pathetic. I was assured that the first day is always the hardest. And after resting and getting all calmed down, I wasn’t yet done for the day. I don’t get anxiety. I don’t run. I also don’t puke.

But today is full of firsts. It’s a pretty raw memory for me, back in 1995 or so, when I last hurled, barfed, upchucked, chunderspewed, vomited, or puked. And that night I swore I would never do it again. I would do anything to keep that from happening again. But today, after thinking I had dodged the possibility once again, when everything was calm, the warning hit me. It’s strange how you instinctively know how to run and also strange that you know when you are going to throw up. Your body actually preps you for it by coating your throat with mucus to protect it from the coming tsunami of acid. And that taste and sensation is unforgettable, even after decades.

I made my announcement and swiftly, yet calmly, went to the bathroom, whereupon I did the deed. My unbroken streak was now broken. All in the name of some sort of health benefit. Cruelly, the gym makes you sign and date a puking man mural on the wall when you fail to keep your fluids. But I was assured (again. Lots of assurance here) many times that people only sign the wall once.

So, that was fun. Sounds fun, right? Let’s do it again tomorrow! Fuck yeah! More running, more stretching, more things. Jumprope, throwing medicine balls, pushups, weights. Again, I failed about midway through, but that was also because I knew when that nausea feeling arrived, it was not something to fuck with.

So, that was fun, too, right? Except for the fact that my muscles really fucking hurt. So, tomorrow, then? It’ll just be a private workout at a friend’s house. What’s to say about that? More of the same, more failing halfway through. Much more pain in the muscles, especially the legs.

It’s hard to say where this is going to go, but it’s not fun. I’m assured that it’s going to get better. The first day is the hardest. The second day is better. In a week or two it will start feeling good. I am not sure if people that work out have a different definition of what “feel good” means. This is probably the most radical change I’ve made in my life, just in the span of three days. I can’t evaluate it yet.

If This Matters

Posted by anachostic on December 27, 2017 No comments

For people that love anniversaries, it’s going to be a good couple months. I got this notification from WordPress today:

It’s a fucking ACHIEVEMENT – it says so right at the top! Time has gone by and I am to be commended for that. This is truly a fantastic day in my long, illustrious Internet history. I have a few words I want to say in gratitude of this prestigious honor.

First, all you young little shits don’t know how good you have it. You have so many fucking people on the internet now, you can get followers at the drop of a hat. All you need is a bunch of “Dunk Memes” (Dark? Derk? Dank? Whatever.) and you’ll skyrocket to the top. You also have the ability to install a bunch of “plug-ins”, which are like air fresheners for your blog. I see where they got the name from. They’ll keep your blog theme fresh and new for all your attention-deficient and fickle followers.

Me being me, I’m not here to make friends (but I am loyal beyond measure to the few I have). I just put this shit out here and see what happens. If nothing else, I have a record of what’s happened in my life. You might notice I’m being vague here, but I have a second anniversary coming up and I’m going to get really stupid on that one.

Now, back to being crotchety. Second, punks, I’m older than a lot of you. So, if you think you’re going to catch up with me and beat my seven years of WP tenure, think again. No really, think. Because that’s how time works. You’re going to hit seven years, I’m going to be at seventeen. In your face, maggots! Of course, in ten years, I could be dead. Then: Maggots, in my face!

So, how did I get here? I owe it all to Windows Live and Microsoft’s shitty decision to continually sunset any product I enjoy using. Remember what Live Spaces looks like? The Internet does.

That’s about all I have to say about blogging right now. You’ll just have to wait for the other anniversary for the self-indulgent hit parade.

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Anachostic