Author: anthony Page 17 of 73

Part of my job is provide training and support for our web system on campus.  I’ve taught a lot of people and most of them take to editing the pages pretty easily.

There are exceptions, of course.  Including a very small few that might be unteachable – ironic for a university.

Not that they can’t learn – they really just don’t want to.

But, I’m me, and I don’t give up on them.  By slow degrees and email after email, I can usually bring them around and get the least amount of work out of them as possible.

One of my current projects is a staff member in an academic department that has told me that she literally cries when she has to update a webpage.   I’m pretty sure that’s not literal and I’m also pretty sure she’s hoping that she’ll just be so bad at it that I’ll give up and just do the work for her.

We’re not there yet, but getting close.

Recently, she was having trouble updating a professor’s name on their bio.

Really?  Once you get to the right part of the system – which I’ve shown her, like, a lot – it’s the easiest thing.  Some days it would take longer to get logged in than do that kind of update – depending on the network.

I sighed, then prepared to rewrite the instructions for her again.  I took a look at the professor’s email that my troublesome editor had forwarded to me and it was utterly lacking in the actual problem.  It was “wrong” – but no details on what was wrong about it.

I sighed again, then did some checking.  The bio in question had a feminine first name, but the professor’s email signature had that same first name – but missing a letter in a way that still worked, but made it more… ummm… generic?  Or at least non-gender specific.

They also included (he/him/his) after the name.

Ah, okay.  

I would imagine one of the struggles in being a transgender individual would be in getting other people to get your name right.  I don’t know that that was the case here, but I figured I could err on the side of compassion and help him directly instead of going back and forth with the reluctant editor. Which, based on prior experience, could have taken literally weeks.  

So, I checked the People Directory – since this would show the legal name as far as the University/HR was concerned – and made the updates.  I contacted him directly by email and explained the changes, asked if other changes were needed, and offered to upload a new CV since I saw that was inaccurate as well.

He thanked me for my help and sent along a corrected document and a new photo which I uploaded.

And that was that.

I can’t really relate to what this professor was going through as transgender.  I’m a dude and I love being a dude and can’t imagine not being a dude.  My inherent dudeness is, well, not something I’ve ever questioned.

But, it doesn’t mean that I can’t recognize when someone is frustrated and maybe help things go a little more smoothly. Especially when it’s something as fundamental to a person as their name.

I’ve got a reoccurring theme in my dreams about elevators.  Usually, it’s some kind of physics or geometry defying thing where the whole thing turns on its side and spins or it goes sideways or the doors open on a floor in a different building.

You know, the usual.

I was telling Jim about one such dream and – being a counselor – he tried to help me understand what the dream means.

“Imagine that I’ve just woken up from a coma and can’t remember anything,” he said.  “How would you describe an elevator to me?”

I thought about it for a moment, then replied:

“An elevator is cubical metal box with horizontally opening doors that transports people and materials vertically through a multi-story structure using a system of cables and pulleys,”

He glanced over at me (he was driving at the time) and shook his head.

“I have no idea what your dream meant,” he said, “But if I really did wake up from a coma and had no memory, I’d want you to explain everything to me,”

I laughed out loud.

“That’s awesome,” I told him, “Because that’s exactly how I see myself,”

There’s a dose of ego there, to be sure, but I really can explain a lot of stuff.  And even if I don’t have all the answers, I do a fair job of mixing conjecture, patterns, and bullshit into an impressive melange.

BAM!  Vocab word!

Unfortunately, it makes me immune to dream analysis in any useful way. A little later I got out my phone and asked for “Dream Dictionary: elevators”, but Jim stopped me before I got too far – those sites are far too general to be useful.

So, if you ever need anything explained – especially if you wake up from a coma with no memory of anything- let me know and I’ll be happy to help.  Me and Clarissa.

Just don’t ask me what my dream means – I got nothing there. 🙂

Oh, and the other night I had a dream I was fighting Dracula in Hawaii while wearing a bed-sheet like a cape.   He transformed into a duck-billed platypus to escape, but I grabbed him by the tail and dragged him into the sun – where he exploded into dust.  I was trying to gather up the remains into large McDonald’s cups to bury separately (to keep him from coming back), when I woke up.

I got a notice of a certified letter waiting for me at the post office, so I headed there on my lunch hour to pick it up.

And it was almost stereo-typically bad.  The line was long, no one was ready, the guy in front me had a long and involved conversation with the clerk about people they knew and someone’s third wedding, and the clerk himself appeared to be legally blind.

When I finally got the letter I was running late and only had time to glance at the return address – the treasury department for the City of Akron.   I groaned and thought it was something tax related (audit? shudder), then headed back to work.

Later, I opened it up and saw that it wasn’t about taxes.  It was a notice that I was being assessed for street repairs.

Wait, isn’t that a Community Chest card from Monopoly? Huh.

I read through it and saw that my street was on the list of those being repaired as part of the current project for repaving.  And, based on the amount of property, it was going to cost me about $266. They won’t have the final cost for a while and it wasn’t a bill – just an estimate and a notice.

I had mixed feelings about that.  I would have liked it to have just been part of the property taxes and not this additional assessment, but it could have been worse.

And, well, it’s part of being a homeowner and being in a community.   That’s the deal. I’m not even that bummed about paying taxes – though I don’t always agree with how that money is spent.  And the actual process of paying those is terrible.

But, as I said, it could have been worse.  And though it’ll be crazy when they are actually working on it, I’ll have a nice street when they are done.

Now, if only we could do something about how many people park on the street.  Seriously, people, have you heard of a driveway? It’s like driving through a gauntlet to get to my house.

With all the news about facebook recently I decided to do a “Data Download” of my content from there.  People have reported all the terrible and invasive things they’ve found there, but my experience was a little different.  There were no surprises other than a couple Likes that I don’t remember doing. Of course, this isn’t the really scary stuff about societal engineering and deep tracking, but it was no more or less than I expected from the process.

One thing I did note was that there wasn’t a lot there.  The photos took up a few megs but I was able to review the rest of the text in a few minutes.  I don’t post a lot directly to facebook and most of my online presence is in my blog or my tumblr – or, rarely, my twitter of Haiku’s.

With the talk about #deleteFacebook, I gave some thought to what that would mean to me.  I’d still write in my blog and twitter and still post my art on tumblr, but I’ve have to do more with my site to get what I create out into the world – depending on how important I find that to be.  

I’d miss the connections I have with my friends and family, but I wouldn’t miss the ads and politics.  Most of the time I’m on Facebook I feel like I’m reading People magazine – pretty pictures, but not very filling.

So, for now, I’m still going to be inherently cautious about what I post on Facebook – and more cautious believing what I see there.

I was rude to someone today.

Now, I might seethe with an undying contempt and hatred for all of humanity (sorry), but I don’t let that out.  I keep that contempt locked up nice and tight with only the occasional glare or growl slipping out.

But, today, I was rude.

I was at work having a full on Monday (note, today is actually Tuesday), when my cell phone rang.  I didn’t recognize the number, but answered it anyway.

The caller asked for “Becky” and I sighed and told him it was the wrong number.  It was actually with a bit of relief – “Yea! Not a robot calling me about my student loans!”

His reply was, “Oh, sorry, maybe you can help me…” and went on with a spiel about donating money to something.

I honestly don’t know what I was supposed to donate to – I was way too angry.  When he finally paused, I replied:

“You start off with a bait and switch and then expect me to help you?  Are you kidding? There’s no way,”

I pulled the phone away from my ear and just as I hit the button to hang up the call I heard him say, “Have a nice day,”

And then I felt bad.  He was just some guy trying to do a job.  A shitty job, but a job nonetheless. I could have been a lot more rude – didn’t even swear – but, still…

Now, there’s no earthly way I’m going to support whatever he was asking me to support.  I mean, if it starts off with a ploy, it’s going to go downhill into some really shady territory.   But, I’m kinda hoping he calls back so I can apologize.  And then get taken off the damn list.

—————-

It’s getting close to Maker Faire time and I’ve been on the fence about participating again.  As in, I’ve known about the sign-up deadline for months and I’m less than a week away. Not normally how I roll, but it’s been a tough call.

I like demonstrating origami and teaching people – and I like talking about and sharing my craft.  But the Maker Faire last year was rough. It was about 8 hours of folding with kid after kid at my table – usually 3 deep – and no breaks.

I was exhausted when I was done.  My hands ached and my back was sore from leaning over the table.  And even though my friends and family stopped by, I didn’t really have much time to interact with them.  So, even with the crowds, it was a little lonely – especially when it was time to take down my display and load up my car.

There’s a little magic when a crane’s wings flap the first time or a cube comes together – but…yeah… it was rough.

So, making the actual decision to slog through that enormous registration form – seriously, my Humanities in the Western Tradition final wasn’t as rough – was not something I’d do lightly.  If I was going to do this, I was going to do it well and go all in.

In the end, it came down to two things.

1. I have a tendency to “not” – as in, just not do things.  I don’t know you could call me an introvert – see: polar bear jump, AANR member, silly hats, kilts, etc. – but if given a choice about participating in things I’d usually just rather not.  And I’m trying to work on that.
2. I could just sit in my living room and fold paper while watching a DVD.  And then post a picture on my website. And that could be the limit of my interaction.  Or I could get out there and share this with… scores…of easily distracted kids who really just want to walk away with something free.  Sigh.

So, last night, I signed up.  If I don’t get selected, well, I’ll be okay with that. If I do, well, I’ll be ready.  I’ve got stacks of paper and plenty of models to demo. I’ll insist on a break for lunch or the bathroom as needed.  

And I’ll teach a whole bunch of people something really cool and watch them light up.

I’ll be exhausted, but it’s the right thing to do.

I usually go to bed around 10 and the other night I woke up again just before midnight.  I was pretty cozy in bed and I don’t know what woke me, but I realized that the two extra pillows I had in bed – one between my knees and the other clutched to my chest – could have been just a little more cozy.

“Hey,” I thought to myself, “A body pillow would be great here.  Wait! I have one of those!”

I debated the idea of getting up, then realized something else.

“If I get up to get that pillow, I could also get a couple of chocolate chip cookies,”

That settled it and I got out of bed.  

“Cookies first,” I decided and without putting on my glasses or turning on lights, I made my way through the dark house and downstairs.

Since I have a pet cat, I always shuffle my feet when I walk in a dark house since I’d rather lightly kick than step on my cat if he gets in the way.  I’m not really sure if that’s better, but that’s what I do.

I made it down the stairs safely, but as I turned the corner to go from the living room into the dining room and then kitchen – I forgot something.

When the puppies come for a visit, I put up a board across the door between the kitchen and dining room to give the super jumping cat a safe place.  And I leave it there so he’s used to it.

I, apparently, am not.

I managed to slam the toes of both of my bare feet into this wildly unyielding board across the doorway.

I didn’t fall, but I swore harshly enough to scare the cat and take some paint off the walls – then managed to hobble to a lightswitch and light up the room.  

Nothing was broken, but I’d managed to tear the nail of my big toe enough that part was sticking up at a sharp point.  

Still, there were cookies in the kitchen and I went ahead and got two.  

Turning off lights as I went back upstairs, I finished my cookies in route and went to the bathroom to trim that nail back to something safe – though even with the lights on I couldn’t see well enough without my glasses.

So, I went to my bedroom and got my glasses, then back to the bathroom to trim the nail.  I checked the rest of my toes to see if there were any problems – bruised, broken, nails torn, bleeding, etc. – and not finding any I went to my library room to find the pillow.  I thought it was in the closet but instead I found it under the bench where my cat likes to sleep.

The pillow was, of course, covered with a huge clump of cat hair that I could have used to make another cat.  I even poked it to make sure it wasn’t somehow really another cat, but it wasn’t.

Too tired to de-fur the pillow, I just turned out the light and went back to my bedroom.  I put away my glasses, got back in bed, and tried to get comfortable again.

“Well,” I thought as I rearranged the pillows, “That was a waste of time,”

Then, a little voice in the back of my head whispered,

“At least you got some cookies,”

And then I fell asleep again.

I don’t know about other people, but I’m certainly a danger to myself.  

They were good cookies, though.  Hmmm…was that little cookie-demanding voice what woke me up?

Last Friday, I fired up the GPS and headed south, then west.  Not that far south – Columbus, OH. And not that far west – Central Illinois.  The drive was astonishingly boring and colorless. Gray, beige and brown. Mostly gray.  The only color on the drive was the endless billboards. Indiana was the worst for that – the entire trip through that state was one billboard after another.  A lot of RV sales, lawyers, pro-gun rhymes, and “IF YOU DIE TONIGHT, WHERE WILL YOU GO?” / “HELL IS REAL!”

Delightful.

The purpose of my drive was to visit my cousin and her family for their son’s 10th birthday.  The birthday boy is all-in with video games and since I’m fluent, it was a big deal for me to visit.  I got in on Friday afternoon and we met the very excited kids at the bus stop when they got off school. Then it was video games and paper folding until dinner – then more games.

Saturday was pancakes for breakfast, then a scavenger hunt around town with birthday presents – followed by a trip to an arcade.  I helped shoot some zombies and raced cars – but the aerial dog-fighting game made me motion sick.

Then out to lunch and back to play more games and get ready to have more family over for a party.  It turned into a late evening and there were a few meltdowns, but I think everyone had fun.  Also, one of the little girls there decided I needed a banana.  I really didn’t but went along with her when she agreed to split one.  She ate one bite and then handed the rest to me – then ran off to do cartwheels.

Kids are weird.

I was up early on Sunday and helped myself to breakfast while I waited for the rest of the crew to wake up.  There was some last minute paper folding lessons and then it was time for me to go.

Or maybe it was time.  The time zone and then the time change threw me off terribly.  My watch and the clock in my car were wrong – but I couldn’t change the car since it was locked out while I was driving.  My watch was far too complicated to try while driving.

My cell phone was showing two different times on one screen and refused to update.  I sort of trusted my GPS, but given the crazy routes it sent me on – I think it was bored – I’m not sure I really believed it.

I don’t know how long the drive took or how many miles I drove – or even really what day it was anymore – but I was glad to pull into my driveway and gladder still to go in my house and see my cat. He was happy to see me too.

Good weekend, but that drive is rough when you’re solo in the car.

Lap 0.5 Lap 1 1.5 Why won’t that woman just return my email instead of calling me and leaving incomprehensible voice-mails? 2 2.5 3 3.5 4 4.5 5 I wish my co-workers would quit fighting every single idea I have. 5.5 6 6.5 7 7.5 8 8.5 9 9.5 10 10.5 11 Lunch was terrible. 11.5 12 Even the pie. 12.5 I got a terrible night’s sleep. 13 13.5 14 Why am I doing this? 14.5 15 15.5 16 16.5 17 Everything is broken and there’s an email about it. 17.5 18 Rest

0.5 1 1.5 2 My speedos are riding up. 2.5 3 3.5 4 4.5 5 And my goggles are fogged 5.5 6 Does the music always have to be this shitty? 6.5 7 7.5 8 8.5 9 9.5 Seriously, is that Bieber? 10 10.5 Drowning might be better. 11 11.5 12 12.5 13 Ugh, that meeting tomorrow is going to suck. 13.5 14 14.5 15 15.5 16 16.5 17 17.5 18 Rest

0.5 1 1.5 Why do I have heartburn now? 2 2.5 3 3.5 4 4.5 5 5.5 6 6.5 This is taking forever. 7 7.5 8 8.5 9 What’s up with all the headaches in the morning? 9.5 10 10.5 11 11.5 12 12.5 13 13.5 14 14.5 15 15.5 16 “Sir, would you please move to the deep end of the pool?” 16.5 Grumble, grumble. 17 17.5 18 Rest

0.5 Can’t lose count. 1 1.5 2 Whoa, leg cramp. Keep going. 2.5 3 3.5 4 4.5 5 Now my arm hurts. 5.5 6 6.5 7 I’ve outlasted the swim team. 7.5 8 8.5 9 9.5 10 10.5 11 11.5 I got this. 12 12.5 13 Unstoppable. 13.5 14 14.5 15 15.5 16 16.5 17 17.5 2 miles, bitches 18 Rest is for the weak.

0.5 1 1.5 2 Damn, my arm really hurts. 2.5 3 3.5 4 4.5 5 Going to pay for this tomorrow. 5.5 6 6.5 7 7.5 8 Not going to stop, though. 8.5 9 Keep going. 9.5 10 10.5 11 11.5 12 “Sir, could you move to the far lane?” 12.5 Seriously? 13 13.5 MASSIVE LEG CRAMPS – BOTH LEGS. 14 Shake it off. 14.5 15 15.5 16 Can’t keep up, can you? 16.5 I’m twice your age! 17 This is my pool! 17.5 Eat my wake! 18              2.5 miles!   90 laps!

Suck it, Wednesday.

The husband of one of Jim’s friends passed away recently and he asked me to go with him to the calling hours.  I had only met his friend once and only in passing, but I went along to provide a little support.

When we got to the funeral home there was a short line to speak to the widow – she was seated in a chair off to the side.  In a few minutes we got to talk to her and I was struck by how terrible our funeral practices can be.  Here was this poor woman, forced by convention, to be “on” for a crowd of family, friends, and in my case – strangers.  She was visibly tired and struggling to remember names – and even the kindest of words couldn’t balance out her loss.

I wanted to clear the room, help her to a more comfortable chair, and just give her a little peace and quiet.

Instead, I tried to be kind and told her I was sorry for her loss.  We didn’t linger long and Jim promised to keep in touch.

I hope that the days and weeks ahead will give her the time to slowly come to terms with her loss.  There were a lot of people saying really nice things, but I wish she hadn’t had to go through that.

———————

It’s tax time and that meant an email from H&R Block to make an appointment for me to get my taxes done.  They picked the day and time and it was fine with me.  I got 3 more emails indicating my appointment for 2/18 at 1:00.  Then I got 5 text messages – including one that asked me to reply to confirm the day and time.  Which I did.  And then another to confirm my confirmation.

The day of, about an hour before my appointment, I got a call from the Tax Expert.  She said she had me down for an appointment the next day (2/19) and would I mind changing that to the following Thursday?  

I replied with some confusion and told her that I thought my appointment was for that day at 1:00.  She apologized, told me that would be good, and said she’d see me soon.

A little puzzled, I gathered up my documents and headed out.

When I got there, she explained that they had a new appointment system that nobody knew how to use and they’d been calling and confusing people since the start of the year.

I recalled that they had the same problems last year – but kept that to myself, After all, I was relying on their Tax Software – not their appointment software.

The actual tax prep went easily and quickly.  I could do this myself, but I get so worked up about it that it’s better if I just pay someone to deal with it on my behalf.

When we were done I paid my bill and headed out.  I got a couple text messages later in the day to say that my Federal and then State tax returns had been accepted.

Then I got another text message telling me that my appointment was for 2/17 at 12:30.  I thought that was the day before – but it was really the appointment reminder for… next year.

Yeah, that’s going to help.  

Sigh.

I hope I don’t get audited.

——————–

Jim has to do some projects for class that involve actual art therapy.  He’s got a friend of a friend that he’s using as his official subject for the class project, but he asked me if I would do this as well – unofficially.

He gave me three pieces of paper and some colored chalk – not my preferred medium – and sat back with a pad of note paper.

The first assignment was to draw anything I wanted – so, I drew some pine trees from a forest near where I lived when I was a kid.  

Mainly because I know how to draw pine trees.

For this one, he asked me a lot of questions about that place, where I would be if I was in the picture, and my memories of it.

Next I was supposed to draw a tree.  I made it too big to really fit on the paper by accident and so I drew a close-up tree with a few small branches and new growth.  Apparently, that means something.  The tree made me a little sad because it reminded me of the trees at work – and those little starts would be clipped off to make the tree more aesthetically pleasing.  Seemed unfair.

The last picture was about how I was feeling.  And since I was feeling overwhelmed at work, well, my brain just dumped out onto the page.  I drew a little blue cube in the corner of the page that was me with a dark cloud over it and a sunny sky far away.  The cube ended up having a fragile scaffolding under it and just making the picture made me start to tear up.

We talked about the colors I used, what the cube meant, and all the little elements of the simple picture.

I was, well, a little raw at the end of it.  And I wanted to cut out the little blue cube and take it with me – but settled for taking a picture.  

I don’t know how much this helped me – I usually sort myself out from situations if given some time – but it did make me see things in a starker light.  

I’ll do the next one for sure – but I’m glad I’ve got a couple weeks.  Took a lot out of me.

The only kinda bogus thing was that he couldn’t really tell me much about what it meant since it would impact how I approached the other sessions.  And I can’t help with proof-reading his papers since I’ll learn way too much about the class and how the sessions go.

It was interesting and I’d recommend anyone with a lot going on in their head to talk to someone with some training.  Even though this wasn’t official I still think I learned something about myself.

And I’m not too worried.  If he saw something really wrong or off in my drawings that pointed to a serious problem, he would have stopped what we were doing and had me speak to a licensed professional. 

Hoping we can skip the chalk next time – I thought it was too messy.  

Wait, does that mean something too?  

Last weekend was the belated birthday party for my oldest niece.  I drove down Saturday morning, they rode with my sister and the girls back northwards to pick up one of their friends for the party and a sleep over.

The party was spy themed – at my niece’s request – and my sister had an adventure planned.   We started off by getting our passports, picking our spy names, and getting fingerprinted.    Then going through a “laser avoidance challenge” of red yard strung across a hallway.

Naturally, I was all-in and had a disguise ready to go – a fake black beard, dark sunglasses, and my trusty fedora.

After we were officially spies, we found out that the party favors had been stolen – but there were clues to help find them.  The kids eagerly raced around the house, figuring out the puzzles and ciphers left and right.  The coolest part was when they got into the right “mode” and were thinking about not just how to solve the cipher – but how to solve the larger puzzle.  It was neat also when one of them would get a burst of inspiration and lead the rest of the kids towards the solution – with very little guidance from the adults.  

The final puzzle had a locked bag with the party favors in it.  The clue was “In the end, the littlest one is the key,”   My younger niece pulled out her necklace with a key on it and said – right on cue – “Maybe this will help,”

She was in on it and adorable.  

From there it was pizza and cupcakes – and a late night for everyone involved.

————————–

One evening this past week was a get together for Current and Former UA Employees.  It was something that was started when the computer center was decimated by staffing cuts.  So, while this event was called something pretty general, it was pretty much a nerd fest.

And I can nerd along with the best of them, but somehow the conversation drifted – as it does – to server configuration and large scale software deployment using multi layers of scripting.  

Naturally.

I listened along, then said to the person sitting next to me, “I think this is how I sound when I talk to my mom,”

It was good to get caught up a little and the buffalo chicken sandwich was a amazing, but I eventually had to call it a night.