Doodle

I get bored at work.

Yawn

Sorry I haven't been around, but with this third shift business, I just can't seem to get in a blogging mood. I don't have much energy for things that require any kind of physical exertion, like typing. For the past week I've tried to do a post on my employer's new tactic to enforce the company internet policy by installing software that monitors and blocks non-work related internet activity. But I could never get it together enough to write a coherent post. Mainly I just wanted to say that it sucks not having access to the web at work anymore. No more Google News for me, or Froogle, or streaming international TV from wwiTV, or blogs. And forget about actually blogging from work, which I never did, but I was bound to eventually.

Third shift is messing up my life, not that I had much of a life to begin with, but at least I could pretend I had something vaguely resembling a life. Now I'm asleep all the time. I should be asleep right now, but since it's the weekend, I find it difficult to stay up all night. The temtation to completely screw up my sleeping pattern is too great apparently, so I've been spending an awful lot of time napping. I tend to nap every few hours. I've been up since eight, so I'm overdue for another nap I guess.

Blinded by the light

I hate driving. And I especially hate driving at night. Driving in the city is bad enough, but it's worse out in the middle of nowhere where there isn't much light. Not only can I not see as well, but there's no high-beam etiquette anymore. It sucks being tailgated by some asshat with his high-beams on. And they don't even have to tailgate you for it to be annoying. I've had people behind me a quarter of a mile or more and they're stupid headlights were still blinding me when they reflected off my mirrors.

Last night I was on my way to work, miserable as usual, since I hate my job. Often I have the highway to myself, but occasionally I have to deal with other cars. As I drove, I noticed two cars far behind me. The highway is four lanes and these two cars were driving side by side (something that always irritates the hell out of me because it's so stupid). Both, naturally, had they're highbeams on. I wondered how long it would be for these idiots to reach me. It took longer than I expected, but eventually they got on my tail. I slowed down and hoped they'd pass me. They didn't. So I drove along about five or ten miles per hour less than the speed limit. I had my head leaning very far to the left so the reflected high-beams weren't blasting me in the eyes. Then, oddly, I saw blue lights flashing behind me. Cops.

I've never been pulled over for anything, ever. I've never even had a cop give me a parking ticket. I couldn't imagine what I was being pulled over for. So I rolled down my window and got out my license. The state trooper came up and asked for my license, then asked me if I'd been drinking. Apparently I'd drifted left several times, but since I was driving with my head practically on my left shoulder so I could keep from being blinding, this wasn't surprising. I told the guy that I had my head way over to the left because I had two cars behind with their highbeams on and they wouldn't pass me. I was very polite and the cop let me go.

What the hell were they trying to accomplish? I understand they're looking for drunks and speeders, but is tailgating people and half blinding them with their highbeams an effective means of crime prevention?

Slog

I don't have to work this weekend. That's good. I don't know what I'm doing at work anyway.

I can relax and read for a couple of days before I start back on my forced march through adulthood. Is it too much to ask that each day not seem ruined before it even begins?

Bleh again

I hate my job. Third shift doesn't agree with me at all. It sucks sleeping all day and being groggy at 4:30PM.

And I can't even do much of anything on my job. Last night (this morning, whatever) after awhile I just gave up, got my book out, and started to read. (Note to self: when it's the middle of the night and you're in a big warehouse with only eight or nine people in it, reading a book about the Zodiac killer probably isn't that bright an idea--especially if you're a big wuss like me.)

MIT Weblog Survey

Perils of typography

On TV yesterday I just happened to catch a commercial for an annual event called RiverFlick being held in a city 65 or so miles north of here. They're setting up a big projection screen near the local river and will be showing movies on it, sort of like a drive-in theater without the cars. (Is anyone reading this old enough to remember drive-in theaters? Or am I just dating myself? But then again, I have to date myself since no one else will.) Anyway, the logo for this family friendly event, due to an unfortunate quasi-illusion when an uppercase L is beside an uppercase I, makes this affair look, at first glance (if you have a filthy mind), like it's some kind of sex festival.

I imagined someone glancing at the TV and being horrified that there was something called RiverFuck being advertised. And then I thought, why doesn't some brave city actually put on an open sex festival? They could charge admission and make a fortune for the city coffers. Ah, but this is the Bible Belt and people would be howling with outrage that it's immoral for a bunch of naked people to be humping like mandrils along the pristine banks of their river. But if I were mayor (and I never will be) I'd just say, "You conservatives are always pissing and moaning about taxes. Well, I'll lower your taxes, but only if we can hold RiverFuck!" Of course, I'd be probably be assassinated or something, but those are the risks of being ahead of your time.

Still tired

What day is it?

It strikes me as not only cruel and unusual, but downright bizarre that I would leave work and go back to work for the next day on the same day. I leave at 7:30AM and come back at 11:00PM. That's the same day. Shouldn't the laws of space and time have to be bent for something of that magnitude to occur? No?

I'm tired. Tired. But at least I summoned up enough energy to go outside and get two large toads and two frogs (one average the other tiny) from their prison and possible tomb, the basement window above my computer. That thing is nothing but a toad trap. It starts raining and frogs and toads start their, in my eyes, pointless treks across the wet terrain. Inevitably, they land in my sunken basement window. They try to escape by climbing the screen and sometimes, if they're big enough, by simply trying to smash through the window. I can't even tell you how many toads and frogs I got out of there last summer. Well, I don't have the energy or time this summer, so now a screen has been installed over the top so any hoppers can just keep on hopping to wherever the hell they think they're going.

It's Wednesday, right?

Last night (this morning...whatever), in the warehouse I saw what I thought looked like a cat. Is that a real cat, I thought. Yes, it was. It was balanced on the edge of a big plastic trash can looking for food scraps discarded by the previous shift. I walked closer and the cat meowed at me. Then it jumped down and got under something, but didn't run away. I thought the cat was trapped in the warehouse, so I tried to coax it to me. The cat wasn't having any of that nonsense and just sat there and looked at me. I went back to the office to tell the other two people. I said, "There's a cat in the warehouse." They merely asked which one. Apparently there's several and they more or less live in the warehouse. I guess they sneak in through the gaps at the loading dock and only roam around at night when there's only a few people here.

I'm still sleepy. It's Wednesday, right?

Sleepy

The job may not be so bad, but staying up all night is a challenge. I kept closing my eyes and immediately falling into brief episodes of REM sleep. And the office is so cold you could store meat in there.

There's only about 8 or 9 people even in the building on third shift. Walking around a huge, deserted warehouse is kind of strange and slightly creepy.

Why am I awake right now? I don't know. I should go back to bed.

Bleh

Today was supposed to my day off, but it's more or less been ruined by the fact that I have to start my new third shift job at eleven tonight. I've just been moping around the house all day dreading it. I'm not even fully prepared for this job. Hell, I'm probably not even partially prepared for this job. I don't know anyone on third shift either. And when I'm sitting down at my desk (my first desk job!) to start work, it'll already be past my bedtime, so things will get really interesting by 1:00AM when I'm so out of it I'm hallucinating. And I'll still have six and a half hours to go.

Beginning or end?

Tomorrow night my daylight existance more or less comes to an end. I start third shift at 11:00PM. Third shift is miserable, but I'm stuck with it for the time being. Who knows if I'll even be able to stay up all night. And I'll have a fifteen mile drive back home at 7:30AM. Groan.

Hands off

I went to local Mexican restaurant with Cindy last night. The food was great and we had a very enjoyable time, but I was a little too fascinated by the botanical landscaping surrounding the building. One spiny pad had been knocked off a cactus and I, like the colossal dumbass that I am, decided to pick it up and jokingly offer it to Cindy. Naturally, she didn't want it and so I tossed it back onto the sidewalk from where I'd picked it up. Then I realized I had a bunch of tiny, hair-thin cactus needles stuck in some of my fingers. I managed to pull them all out except one I just couldn't get. So, for the rest of the evening, I periodically struggled to pull this irritating, practically microscopic cactus needle out of my left middle finger. Cindy couldn't even get it out with tweezers. It's still in there. The lesson? Don't touch the cactus!

No staples

This morning I got the staples taken out of my head. For some reason, I was under the impression that they'd inject a little painkiller into my scalp before they pried the little bastards out. Nope. Nothing. The nurse just took them out with some kind of metal tool (which looked nothing like an office staple remover, by the way). I should've kept a staple to take a picture of, but I didn't. Anyway, they're out, but I still have a nasty looking scar under my hair.

I win!

Is there a contest to see how long you can use the same printer cartridge? If there is, I think I may have won. I bought my printer in late May/early June of 2003 and it came with a tri-color cartridge. I'm still using that same cartridge. I've put two black cartridges in it, but I'm still using the same color one. Needless to say, I don't print that much stuff, but I do use the printer.

Dilemma

I have a problem. No, not that one. It's another, more pointless problem. Anyway, my problem is that I want a laptop. Badly. Really badly. Irrationally. I don't need one, I have two computers set up that I use: my main Windows XP box and my Linux box. They're in separate rooms, but still, I want portability. I want to sit on the couch and look at stuff online. And I want to lay in bed and look at stuff online.

Bah. I have no business buying a laptop right now, even if I could afford one. My car's on its last legs and I should be saving my money. But I still want a laptop. Badly. Irrationally.

Piles

Sherri wants me to list my enormous book collection online for all the world to see. I'd love to have it cataloged, but doing it would be such a herculean task that I don't think I could manage it. So, instead of a nice alphabetical list, I'll give you photos of the literary squalor: first there's this pile, then this pile, it's near this pile, which is also near this pile, I almost forgot this pile, then I almost forgot this pile, which is kinda near this pile (but not really), actually it's closer to this pile, and then there's this pile (which I think is mainly books on their way to Goodwill). And that's not quite all of them! Yes, I'm a sick, sick man in desperate need of help.

Four questions

Hey, lookit me, I'm doing another meme-type thang. I first saw this one at Sherri's last Thursday, but I was getting over my head injury and had no time for memes. Today Brendan had a go at it. So here's my contribution:

1. Number of books I own
Damn if I know. A bunch. A whole bunch. Hundreds. Maybe a thousand or more. I never counted them.

2. The last book I bought
Last week I got Harry Mathews' brand spanking new, My Life in CIA.

3. The last book I read
I've been catching up on Paul Auster, so I've read his last three novels: Book of Illusions, Oracle Night, and Timbuktu. Right now I'm rereading his excellent Mr. Vertigo.

You can't go wrong with Paul Auster; even his less successful novels (Book of Illusions and Leviathan come to mind) are worth reading.

4. Five books that mean a lot to me
James Joyce's Ulysses changed the way I view books and the written word. No other book has had such an impact on me. I've only ever read it once, but it took a long time and it opened up a new, strange, and exciting world to me. I had no idea you were allowed to write a book like this. Suddenly I realized that I could write anyway I wanted and didn't have to be hemmed in by the dreary stuff the teachers were always shoving at us.

Junky by William S. Burroughs is basically just a straighforward account of a man's decent into heroin addiction in the 1940's. It shouldn't be great, but it is. I can't even remember how many times I've reread this book. And I can't imagine a time in my life when I wouldn't think of rereading it.

Literary Outlaw: The Life and Times of William S. Burroughs by Ted Morgan is probably my favorite biography. I used to reread this book almost constantly in my early 20's. If I was bored, I'd just pull it down from the shelf, open it at random, and start reading. I remember seeing the freshly published volume in a bookstore when I had no money at all. Not being able to buy it was painful. So I started scheming for ways to scrape up some money. It was the end of the school semester, so I sold a pile of my college textbooks and headed off to buy it. I think I failed all of my exams, but I couldn't have cared less, I was in heaven. (I later became a much better student, by the way.)

Endgame by Samuel Beckett nearly did to me for plays what Ulysses did to me for novels. I even started writing plays after I read Endgame, even though up to that point in my life (I think I was seventeen) I'd had no interest in theatre at all.

Immeasurable Distances by Harry Mathews is another of those books that I read and reread until I practically wore it out. It's an essay collection by the only American member of the Oulipo. I can't really describe the contents other than to say they were on various writers (some of whome I'd never heard of), the strange methods of the Oulipo, and other seemingly mundane subjects. This book has taught me more than any other I can think of. (It's long out of print and the publisher, Lapis Press, doesn't even exist anymore. A new volume of his essays, The Case of the Persevering Maltese, contains most of Immeasurable Distances, along with some newer pieces, but strangely, doesn't excite me the way the previous volume still does.

Working?

I finally started training at work on the computer system I'm going to be using. Well, if you can call it training. I did learn some things, but I spent a lot of time sitting there while the guy who was supposed to be training me talked to other people who came into the room, talked on his cellphone, and was on the company phone with Dell's customer service center (which is in India) trying to get them to look into a fraudulent charge on his account. India had him on hold and he was switched to speaker phone, so I got to hear somewhat distorted classical music that sounded like it was coming from a distant shortwave radio station. Periodically the music would be interrupted by a loud sound I can only describe as an electronic fart. He also took an hour for lunch while I only get a half hour. So what did I do for the second half hour? I sat there and read the Paul Auster novel I'd brought with me.

As bad as all of this was, I'd rather do this sort of nonsense than walk around in the sweltering warehouse getting filthy from handling dust-covered boxes.

Digital detritus

Yesterday in a thrift store, I saw a digital camera for sale in its orginal box. I don't remember what model it was, just that it looked like something that was maybe from the late 90's. They wanted $100 for it.

Seeing a once expensive item in a thrift store isn't that unusual, but it just seems odd to me that someone would just donate a digital camera that probably cost hundreds of dollars to a thrift store. I'm sure they'll be more common in the future, along with Palm devices, camera phones, mp3 players, etc.

And this was the same thrift store I saw the artificial leg and funeral wreath in years ago.

I don't get it

Remember BlogShares? About a year and half or two years ago it suddenly got really popular and everyone (except me) was talking about it. Suddenly there was some kind of controversy (I forget what), a lot of bloggers got mad, and then you didn't really hear about it anymore. Tell you the truth, I forgot it even existed. But last night I stumbled across the BlogShares page for this blog. It doesn't really make any sense to me and I still don't see the point to any of it. Why would anyone want to spend time buying and trading fake shares of blogs? And according to the page, someone's even bought a few shares of Volume 22. I don't get it. Why?