Friday, September 24, 2004

The thrill of victory...

So...two minor events have happened this week. A large majority of you (like, 2 of you) know about atleast one of them and only a small majority (yeah, 1) of you know about the other.

Life in Scottville was as it should be. I woke up in the morning, went to work, came home, went to bed and did various other things in between such as sleep, eat, shower, shave...and just about everything else that normal people do in any given day. The horrible routine of life was given a shocking jolt off it's tracks on Wednesday morning.

Monday night, (yes, I realize I've backtracked further than I started out...but all of this needs to be said so that I can properly set up the story, dear reader!) I received a phone call from Neighbor that went something like this:
"Scott, Star Wars comes out on DVD tomorrow and *Local Video Store* is going to be open at midnight to sell it. Are you going?"
"Man, I don't know. I thought about just waiting till tomorrow to get it after work and all."
"Well, *9 year old son of Neighbor* is going."
"Hmm...if he's going, I'm going."

So, we went. Of course, we were the only individuals there at 10:30 pm waiting for the store to open at 12. Unfortunately, we were the only individuals there at 11:50 when the little lady dressed as Darth Vader (youch) let us in (I say we were the only people there...there were actually people waiting in their cars, but we were the only idiots waiting by the door). So, we went inside, bought our stuff, said "Bye" to Darth Vader (who was trying to breathe like Vader did in the movies...she's so cool) and left.

Being the geek that I am, I also purchased Star Wars Battlefront (first person shooter based on the Star Wars world). I got home at about 12:15 and installed it and played till almost 2. (We're getting to the point of my story now, dear reader...don't worry). I went to bed knowing full well that work the next day was not going to be much fun...nor would the 6:30 am alarm.

So, the next day at work was a complete blur. I know I was at work, and I know that I talked to people...but what about and what I did, I have no clue. Every day, I prove to myself that I'm getting older. Anyway...on with the story. I went home early that day because I was getting a haircut and running errands. Those done, I went home and played said game until about 8, at which time I decided I was too tired to breathe anymore, and I went to bed. (Keep reading, it's next).

Ok, so...as is my custom, I put the clothes that I would be wearing the next day on the floor next to my bed so that I wouldn't have to waste time looking for clothes. The whole "I can't see, and I'm barely awake, but I HAVE to pick out clothes!" thing is something I like to skip. Anyway...I picked up my clothes and went to take a shower. I toweled off and put on my clothes. This is where the story gets interesting...

*Please note...at this point, I was still trying to wake up, so not everything made sense*

After putting on my undershirt, I noticed, in the mirror, that my shirt had a bunch of tiny black dots that were moving. "Interesting," I said to myself, and I looked down. Imagine my horror at seeing easily over 100 fire ants crawling all over my shirt. I hurridly take off my shirt and jump back in the shower to wash off again, except this time it wasn't dirt I was removing, but ants. I got out of the shower again and went into my bedroom and turned on the light. Everything looked normal...that is, until I noticed my khaki pants. They seemed to be covered in dark stains or something. I take a closer look only to realize that those stains are hundreds of ants! They've infested my apartment! AAAAH!!! Bravely run away!!!

Well, that night, Neighbor and I attacked the apartment with 5 smoke bombs and then spent the next couple hours airing out the place. Needless to say, many a foe died that day. It was a bloody day on the battlefield that is the floor of my bedroom.

So, on with the second story which occured today (and therefor won't have as much of an intro as the last lengthy story).

This lady just started working where I work (as I've previously stated). Anyway, she FINALLY got her email request through and the IRC (information resource center) sent over one of their tech to set up the email address on her computer. Now, I know none of you realize this, but there are approximately 20 or so faculty here, all of which I set up the email accounts for on their computers without a single glitch. Well, as you can imagine, I was down there when IRC Guy came in to set up the email (complete with notes on how to do it correctly and stuff). So, I make way for him (I was trying to install the drivers for her printer) and he goes to work.

*Insert about 30 minutes of elapsed time*

So, I go back into that room and log in to finish the install of the drivers for the printer. Wait...I TRY to log in. My password doesn't work anymore. What's this?! I look at the guy and say, "Did you delete the admin account, or change it's password?" "I changed the password to *insert password here*." "That's nice..." I reply. "Wait," I say, "why do you have her logging into *Domain Name* instead of just logging in locally?" "It's going to be easier to do it this way. She'll get antivirus updates and stuff." (Dear reader, I've spent all summer long perfecting the Norton Antivirus Corporate Edition that is installed on the server in my building. I have it so that ALL updates are installed on ALL computers in the building EVERY TIME an update comes out.) So, I log in, finish the install and leave quite upset at this point.

*Insert about 2 hours of elapsed time*

The phone is ringing at my desk. I answer to hear New Lady say, "Hey Scott. Listen, that guy that worked on my computer earlier must have broken something. I can't seem to get into any of my programs at all anymore. I can't even check my email!" I sit there...with millions of replies going through my mind, and I say something to the effect of: "Yeah, I'm afraid I didn't work on your computer last and didn't break it. You're going to have to call the guy that broke it and see if he can undo what he did" and I hung up. (I know, that's not exactly what I said, but it's VERY close to the idea of what I said...sorry).

She talked to me later (this being about 3 hours after her phone call) and said, "That guy hasn't come back. I should have asked you to install the email stuff, shoulnd't I have?" "Yeah," I replied. "I installed it on everyone else's computer...it would have been no problem at all."

Well, that's been this week. As exciting as it sounds, I'm glad it's finally over.

-LT

Monday, September 13, 2004

How dumb do I look?

First, please don't answer my question. While I seem to have quite a few people fooled as to my intelligence, I know just how smart I am...or rather, how dumb I am. So, like all rhetorical questions, please keep the answer that is on the tip of your tongue (fingers) to yourself.

Ok...so, here's the deal. A new faculty member just arrived today (yes, that's 1 month after the beginning of the semester). I had to go unlock her office (I'm something of a janitor, computer geek, strong back/weak mind, go get it person here) and chatted with her a bit. I then proceeded to go through the main office and told the women there that the new person had arrived. I got back to my office and was in the middle of something when the phone rings. The conversation goes like this:

"Hello"
"Hi, Scott. How are you?"
"Well...I'm..."
"Good. Listen, Mrs. *name* just arrived today and she's taking Mrs. *other name*'s old office."
"Yes, I'm aware of that. Thanks."
"Ok, well...there is no computer in her office."
"Yes, I'm aware of that. I had to take Mrs. *other name*'s computer out because Dr. *yet another name* was complaining that she didn't have a new computer. That was the only unused new computer in the building. I then took Dr. *yet another name*'s computer and put it in the faculty work room to upgrade that computer for new software."
"Ok. So, where is Mrs. *name*'s computer?"
"I'll see what I can do."

Now, the thing that frustrates the crap out of me is that fact that the secretary that called me was IN THE OFFICE when I went through there and informed them that she had arrived. Ok, so...here I am, telling everyone that Mrs. *name* arrived, and then I get told that Mrs. *name* arrived and that her computer was missing (and has been missing for, oh...about a month now). Goodness people, come on. Use some common sense here.

So...as a direct result of this infraction (as I see it, anyway), I'm going to seriously start looking for a new job. Not only do I dislike my present job, but I dislike the people I work with, the school and the state as a whole. It's not that I haven't been looking for a job, rather, it's that sometimes I forget the whole reason WHY I was looking for a new job to begin with. It's time like these that reinforce the desire to leave.

-LT

Wednesday, September 08, 2004

The bane of my existance...

No no...I'm just kidding.

I decided last night, while reading a book...go figure, that I really need to work on my descriptive skills. I mean, here I am, trying to write a story. The prologue (which is, of course, all I have written so far) flows ok, it's just not very descriptive...or rather, it's not as descriptive as it should be. So, from this point forward, I'm going to try to use decriptive, colorful language.

What am I? "All day long, I move. I bring people to where they need to go. I have wheels, brakes, doors and a car. I don't move on streets, in the air or even over land." What am I? Give up? If you have...keep reading. I'm an elevator. Well, ok...'I' am not an elevator, but the words above these are. This brings me to a question that I've asked several people, none of which had an answer.

I presently work in a two story building that has an elevator. The stairs are just as easy to take, granted, but many, MANY people take this elevator all day long. Now, the ironic thing is, it's a two story building, and there are buttons for the floors inside the elevator. My question is this: Why have floor buttons in an elevator with only two floors to choose from? I mean, if you are on the first floor and you get on the elevator, you obviously want to go to the second. If you are on the second floor and you get on the elevator, you obviously want to go to the first. Can someone PLEASE explain this to me?

This is going to be a rough week. I'm supposed to finish a project I've been working on for a week and a half that is nowhere near complete. I have to fix my neighbors computer that was working FINE until he took it to the computer store. I have to write the single most serious email I've ever written in my entire life. I have to clean my office at home. Fun fun fun in the Louisiana sun.

-LT

Wednesday, September 01, 2004

Fear drives me to do what I do...and what I don't do.

Fear.

Fear is as much a part of our lives as love, happiness and onion rings. It can make you into a coward who will do nothing at all for yourself, or it can make you brave enough to do things you've only dreamed of. I battle fear just like everyone else who is alive on this Earth.

Some fears are rational. The fear of spiders, of heights, of snakes...these fears come about due to a sense of wariness and or a desire not to be dead. Some of these fears are given to us by our parents. I, for example, was afraid of snakes and heights as a child. My mother shares, or rather gave me, these fears. Do they control my life? No. Since my childhood, several situations have come about that have 'cured' me my fear of these things. For heights, I've been able to conquer this through my jobs that I've held. On my first day on one job, I was to go to the top of the 200' tower and terminate the end of a cable. The tower was metal, but you could see the ground far below. As for snakes, well...there's nothing like having a snake that's easily 3" in diameter slithering over your bare feet to cure you of that!

Some fears are irrational. The fear of the dentist, doctors, the unknown...these fears, I think, come about simply because there is a potentail for much harm. If you went to the dentist and they told you that you had 10 cavities, and needed 2 root canals...you would be in a world of hurt. If you went to the doctor because of some ache or pain, or say you vomited on a regular basis, the doctor could tell you that you had throat cancer, or worse, that you were terminally ill. This fear, dear reader, has gripped me for months...the fear of the unknown.

For years, I have fought with acid reflux, like so many other people. Last night, I had a scare that has caused me to get over one of my fears to such a degree that I am willing to go to the doctor about this problem where in the past, I would just treat it myself. Last night, I went to sleep as usual and was resting quite nicely when I woke up, sat up-right in bed and took a sharp breath in. Along with life-sustaining air, stomach acid also entered my lungs causing me to cough violently. For almost an hour, I literally coughed acid out of my lungs. I feel as though I could have died...either due to the acid, or due to the inability to breathe liquids. This morning, as I began to take my shower, I coughed up and spat out some blood. This also disturbed me greatly.

So, I have appealed to a dear friend of mine who's significant other worries about him even more than I do. I made a deal with him (after telling him my story) that I would make an appointment for myself just as soon as he made one for himself. Sometimes we do the things we want to do...other times, we do the things we have to do. I know you will eventually read this...if I didn't love you, I wouldn't worry about you, man. I'm serious, you go...I go. Don't let either one of us down. -S