You know, sometimes all you need is twenty seconds of insane courage. Just literally twenty seconds of just embarrassing bravery. And I promise you, something great will come of it.

I haven’t seen the movie We Bought a Zoo, but I had somehow heard the quote. It was going through my head a month ago.
A month ago I was at an event, with people who had similar interests, and watching a performance. I got to talking with a beautiful woman near me. A woman who laughed at my jokes. I used those twenty seconds of courage to ask for her phone number, and she gave it to me.
We talked a bit on the phone and then we went out to see a movie. Drinks afterwards. I had a good time, and I learned more what dating should be like.
My previous attempts at dating haven’t gone well. And that has been partly my fault. I now realize there are two things that make dating go well.
Firstly, it is very important to have similar interests. I have met women I like, but dreaded phoning them up to plan something, because I had no idea what to do with them. The activities they want to do, don’t match the ones I want to do. There is only so long that I can talk over coffee. I am a goal-oriented person, and talking is not a goal. It is part of the journey.
Secondly, dating should not be a one-way street. It should be a mutual relationship. If I’m doing all the work, then something is wrong. She should want to see me as well.
Now all of this information is great, but things didn’t work out. I wish I knew why. A friend has called me “an acquired taste”, and it may be unfortunately true. After the one date, and a brief meeting at another event, the plan for dinner was cancelled with half an hour notice. (She got called into work.) That is last I have heard from her. I assume she has decided that it wouldn’t work out.
I’m trying to figure out what I did wrong. I thought it had been going well. She had been willing to return calls.

I wonder if I have an enemy out there who is spreading lies/truth about me?

There is a video that I found that is spectacular, both visually and the audio. It was originally at this location, but I have now learned to hate Terje Sorgjerd. It probably was violating a copyright, but the original location credited everyone. Fortunately, the internet considers censorship to be damage and you can find it here.
While, it is visually great, it is the music that concerns me. Wolf, by First Aid Kit. I went and purchased the music soon after hearing it. While I was driving today, it came up in my iPod rotation. And this time I listened to the words. Usually I don’t. (Mostly because I have bad hearing and miss crucial words. Despite the title, “Wolf”, I never heard the characters referred to as such until I read the lyrics. I think I heard “Woah” instead.)
But the song refers to running in two places. The first is “Let me see you run”, but the second meant more to me: “When I run through the deep dark forest long after this begun”. That is beautiful imagery. Since the singer is a woman (to the best of my knowledge, but Hanson and Shaggy have made me doubt my ears in the past. See previous comment.) that affects the visual.
I have, in my mind, a picture of a woman running through a northern rainforest. Vibrantly green. Moving swiftly. Leaping over fallen, moss covered trees and hurtling among the creeping roots. Dew hangs in the air. The sun is hidden behind leaves, casting speckled shadows. (Wearing a white dress, implying that she is in some gothic horror. Don’t know where that came from.)
I would like to do that. I would like to be physically fit enough to bound through a forest, covering distance rapidly.
But I can’t.
I will admit, I am better equipped than most to be able to do that. To this day, I don’t consider myself a real runner, despite overwhelming evidence otherwise. But the running in my dream is quick, anaerobic style, with lots of jumping. I do a slow, plodding, aerobic run, and will stop to carefully go over obstacles so I won’t hurt my knees.

I talk about running a lot. And it seems I can bring every subject around to it, if given time.

I did some stair training today; seven sets of the stairs behind the Hotel Macdonald into the river valley. Afterwards, to get back home, I ran up Scona hill.
The police were out and had set up a speed trap at the Pioneer’s cabin. Of course I had to ask “How fast am I going?” as I ran in front of them.
“Funny guy, eh” was what the cop said to me. He did not sound like he was joking. He sounded like someone who wanted to arrest me on a trumped up charge. Did I do something wrong? I was just trying to be friendly to the police services. Was he blaming me for blocking his machine catching speeders? I’m pretty sure I had to pass in front of them. That’s where the sidewalk was.
Or was he just really sick of that joke?
What else would a runner say?

Sleep was an elusive commodity last week.
Let me recap what it involved.
On Sunday evening I was in Calgary. There was a party I wanted to go to. I had a good time there. But I had to leave at 1:30 in the morning, because it wasn’t a day off for me and I was due in Edmonton for work. So after a drive home that I don’t want to talk about (under my lawyer’s advisement) I got to bed at home at around four o’clock. I was at work at 10:30 and did put in seven hour day. I can work an extra hour later to make up the deficit.
After work I had a movie night that lasted fairly late. So I didn’t get to sleep until 10:30.
It didn’t help that I had to get up at 6:00 for a physical therapy appointment Tuesday morning. But the evening was pleasant. I went out on a date that caused me not to get back home until after midnight.
I’m not entirely sure I stayed awake through my early morning Wednesday dentist appointment. But I felt surprisingly awake that day. Enough to still do 40 minutes on a treadmill in the evening.
And then I got to get a good night’s sleep.
Sleep is my earliest memory.
I remember darkness and slowly becoming conscious of existence. And not just again, but for the first time. I think of it as me gaining sentience. Then I opened my eyes and walked to the kitchen where my father and sister were. I recognized them and I believe I said hello. So it wasn’t my first moments of life, as I had knowledge I don’t recall gaining.

I have entered a new chapter in my relationship with Sears.
If you recall from my previous entries, I have been trying to get the battery on my watch replaced without causing the rest of the watch to fall apart.
At last report, a month after Timex fixed it, the operating system on the watch froze and kept the light on permanently. I took it back to Sears under the assumption that they would send it back to Timex. Clearly it was Timex’s fault, not Sears’.
Interestingly, I got it back two days later. That was convenient, and oddly quick. Just in time for my trip to Vancouver.
In Vancouver, my watch started to fill with water again.
So, I suspect they never did send it back to Timex. Instead of having the manufacturer fix the mistake they had made, they took the easy route. They just popped the back off, took the battery out briefly to reset it. That would make it look like it was working again. But, as usual, that breaks the waterproof seal. And the battery remains drained from having the light on for half a day.
Of course, I took it back. They tried to point out their new sign that claimed no guarantee of waterproofing after a battery change. I pointed out that that sign wasn’t there when the whole mess started. I gave them the watch and expected them to return it to Timex. Shouldn’t take more than a week, I would think. Should I have been suspicious that they nearly forgot to give me my receipt for the watch?
Two months later I got tired of waiting. I had heard nothing, so I went in. Surprise, surprise, they never even sent it. They had decided not to do that. And they had decided not to phone me to let me know.
I think they might be afraid of me. I can’t see why. I’ve never raised my voice. I have been frustrated, but I don’t think angry enough to be rude.
In the time they had it, the watch has, mostly, dried itself out. But it is clear that the battery is nearly dead. And it hasn’t been set for daylight saving time.
The lady there suggested I phone the manager of the watch repair department tomorrow. I took the number and left.
But I left to the main store and found a real manager to complain to. She actually acted like she had power to make me happy. She took my complaint, and all my information. She’ll be getting back to me.
I hope it works this time.
I remember once hearing about making customer’s happy. If you make a good product, the customer likes you. If they have a problem with the product, they don’t like you. But if you then fix that problem well, they like you better than before.
Sears’ customer satisfaction rating hangs on a precipice.

There was a book I got a few years ago for fairly cheap, Fleet of Worlds. I enjoyed it. While going through a purge of my household, I found my copy again and thought that i would like to read the other three books in the series. My natural inclination would be to go buy it on Amazon. But I’m purging, I want less stuff at home, not more.
Then I made a brilliant leap of logic. eBooks! Sure enough, I can buy the other three books on iTunes. However, they aren’t that much cheaper than paperback copies there. They might be cheaper at another store. I’ll have to look into it. But this would be a way for me to read the books and then not have to deal with clutter.
And not once during this time did it occur to me that I could just go to the library, become a member and read these books and more for a significantly smaller amount of money.

I once again tried speed dating tonight. I haven’t been for a year, so I’m a little rusty. Or not as traumatized. There was a reason I hadn’t been for awhile?
The reason I decided to go was that it was located on Whyte avenue. Finally one I can walk to. And because I’m not driving, I can take some liquid courage beforehand. I know many people would disapprove of that, but I think it did help to take the edge off the evening. I did relax more. And it is a situation where I want to be more myself, and not tense.
However, I have never had any luck at any of these, and I don’t see why this will be any different this time.
Hope springs eternal.

As the season turns, I enjoy noticing the effect of the earth’s rotation. Each day I can see that there is a bit more daylight. There was a time when I left work and it was still dark out. Now, I can leave fairly late and there is still a chance of light. I feel like I’m earning my summer.
Which is why I am so annoyed with Daylight Saving Time. Suddenly, all the hard work is gone. It is back to dark when I go to work, and it will be light past the point where I would notice it.

I’ve been so tired lately. Everything seems to be happening at once and I’m falling behind in the tasks that I want to do. This weekend pretty much evaporated on me.
But I did go for a run. I finally broke the 40km barrier today. Although I’m not proud of it. I ran 1.75km to the Running Room. Then did a nice 25km run from there. Once back, I still had 13.25km to go, and I figured out a route home that, surprisingly, was exactly that. However, there were some cupcakes at the Running Room and I took one.
I’m not sure if that was a mistake. Lately, I’ve taken to skipping breakfast before the long Sunday run. I read an article that it is a good way to lose weight, and I think I need to do that. (Because 40km of running will not do that?) In any case, the 13.25km run home was very unpleasant. It started out with a weight in my stomach bouncing up and down. This caused a bad stitch in my side. Then I just started running out of energy. Probably because I hadn’t eaten enough. Irony?
Let’s just say there was a lot of walking in that final part of the run.
But according to Steph, when I run, I’m doing God’s work. So I’ve got that going for me.
I did make one discovery when I got home. Adding salt to chocolate milk makes it taste really good!

It’s been awhile, so I really should at least comment a bit on my trip to Vancouver.
It was my first time to the city, outside of airport layovers. It really is a beautiful place, although I think it was trying too hard. The downtown waterfront was filled with tall, glass buildings, that all, generally, looked the same. Expensive, but none stood out. Anywhere else each would have been fantastic. There: face in the crowd. (Brick in the wall if we want to use an architecture metaphor.)
I noticed a number of interesting differences between there and Alberta, that probably aren’t mentioned in any travel books.
The first difference was that it is a lot more socially acceptable to smoke. I have two theories as to why that is. B.C. and Alberta both have laws against smoking indoors, but in Vancouver it is not necessarily an excursion into winter to do so. You don’t have to suffer nearly as much for your habit. Also, because a lot of people smoke pot, and don’t think I didn’t notice the smell, it is hypocritical to complain about smokers if you are an illegal one.
The second difference was more beggars. Similar to the above theory, they have less chance to freeze to death. Why wouldn’t you go there?
The third difference was the credit card machines. Here, I have trouble remembering the last time I signed a credit card receipt. There, I did it almost all the time, including the old, chunk chunk carbon-copy “machines”. Chunk chunk, sign here. Pin numbers haven’t caught on yet.
On one of the days I hung out with a friend from Seattle who had driven up. She had a car so we drove around looking at things she was interested in. That included vintage clothing stores. In other words, I got to talk to the local proprietors for long periods of time. One was complaining that the city was very expensive. Everyone was so busy trying to earn money to afford their homes.
That may have been true, but what they spend on homes, they save on food. Two restaurants stick out in my head. The first was the sushi place that I went to with a bunch of friends after my run. Because I was on a post-run meal, I was hungry and ordered a lot. Still much cheaper than Edmonton.
The last meal I had was at Save on Meats, a diner. A store clerk had recommended it to me. It was fantastic. It used to be a cheap diner, but it had been gentrified recently, even featured on some reality shows. They had their own butcher and bakery on the premises. The food was great, and quite affordable. I would recommend it to a friend.
I’ve covered food and accommodations. Now I need to turn my attention to transportation. My flight to the city was annoyingly delayed, so I was late to the party I wanted to attend that evening. I made up the time by springing for a taxi instead of taking a bus to the hotel. While in the city, on the last day, instead of taking a convenient bus downtown, I walked, despite being told, truthfully, that it wasn’t scenic. But the hotel clerk had also said it wasn’t walking distance, and if they lie about that, how can you trust them. Pfft. 5km is totally walking distance.
The return trip to the airport was confusing. I used my iPhone and Siri to try and use the bus system. It wasn’t entirely easy. But I paid $2.50 for a bus back to the hotel so I could pick up my luggage, and then transfer right back out to go downtown again. (The bus stop I waited to go back downtown listed the bus number but implied it was drop-off only. Thankfully it lied. Thankfully there was also a small woman there taking the bus to help me out.) When I was back downtown I got onto their train system to get to the airport. I still had my bus transfer, but no one asked to see it. And I don’t even recall seeing a place to pay for the train. I just walked on and sat down. Security?
For the flight home, I was able to score the exit row seat. The window seat even, so I was responsible for the safety of the plane. Unfortunately, I probably didn’t give this as much respect as I should have. I had my GPS watch with me, and I decided to ignore the electronic device warning and use it for the whole trip. (It doesn’t broadcast, I’m pretty sure.) If this was the US, I’m sure some air marshall would have been handcuffing me on the floor before the flight landed. But, due to sensical Canadian policy, I have a nice map of the route the flight took. I wish it had been daylight so I could try and recognize landmarks for the map.
In any case, good trip.

I’ve nearly made it. In less than an hour, the relay racers can sign up for the Death Race. Soon, it will be impossible for me to sign up.
I need to start concentrating on training.

I have defied the Word of Steph. I can only hope to beg for forgiveness for my sins. Maybe a gift of some nice dessert.
Today I rented a bicycle with helmet and put foot to pedal. I went cycling around Stanley park for almost two hours. It was actually rather pleasant, but not much faster than running. Well, it probably was faster than running, but I stopped every so often to take pictures or mug someone into taking a picture of me. My GPS watch will probably tell me when I have a chance to plug it in.
The biggest problem was that they had closed part of the seawall trail. Specifically the part that stays low and does not climb up a large hill. It was actually the first time I’ve ever used gears on a bicycle. My bicycling history is pretty much Winnipeg, Montreal and Edam. All known for being flat. Now I know the joy of being able to switch to first gear.
I had planned to run in Stanley park, but that goal was thwarted. A friend from Chicago had agreed to run with me while she was in Vancouver; probably drive to Stanley park and go from there. But she had forgotten her runners. Such is life. So, yesterday, I left the hotel, and ran 9km to the park. I did about 2km of running there before I had to return the 9km back to the hotel so I could make dinner with other friends. I wish I had had an hour more so I could have properly experienced the park. Something to look forward to next time.

The reason I’m in Vancouver is that a couple of women I know from Jamaica are here as well, along with a a man who is a local. There is a conference that they are attending that I thought I would check out. It hasn’t been as interesting as advertised, but I’m having a great time reconnecting with old friends.
At the party for the conference’s first night, we pretty much avoided everybody and spent the time talking amongst each other. I even made a vague plan to go for a run with one of them.
After it was over, I went back to the room of one of them to fix her computer and get it connected to the internet. We then talked for nearly two hours. It is now very late at night, and later for me with the timezone change. Hopefully I can be up for breakfast tomorrow.

I’ve gone through my previous journal entries. I have come to the inescapable conclusion that I am a boring person. All I do is talk about running, or ultramarathons. And, as far as I know, none of the people who read this have ever even considered going out for a jog. I have no idea why they keep reading. Maybe they don’t.
So I need to be more interesting.
That’s it. I’m going to Vancouver. Right now. That’s what an interesting person would do.
Unfortunately the flight is delayed by an hour and twenty minutes. So I’ll try and be interesting waiting in the departure lounge.

Actually, the Death Race will probably be available for sign up for a week. They are letting the soloists sign up seven days before the relay racers. So there is plenty of room and time for me to fall off the wagon.
The thing I have to remember is that the Death Race is safe. I’ve done it four times. I know what to expect and I have, I believe, a fairly good chance of completing it every time. In other words, I’m stagnating. I need to attempt something new. Evolve to a better person.
That said, I couldn’t have qualified for Mont-Blanc without the Death Race. It gave me the points I needed, and the confidence to sign up.

Tomorrow is the day you can sign up for the Death Race. It is probably the only day. It will most likely sell out quickly. I would really like to sign up. I really shouldn’t. I have an important race three weeks later. That is not enough time to recover.
I’ve done it four times in a row though. After three you set up a mathematical pattern that is hard to break.
What has made it harder is that my good running friend looks like he is going to attempt the Alberta triple this year. I wanted to do it last year except my injuries prevented it. (I hate that guy who got his car stuck in the snow.) I was able to still do the Death Race, but not the other two.
There is always next year.
Just keep telling myself that.

And my watch is back for repairs again.
Today, I noticed that its light was stuck on. Further investigation showed that none of the buttons worked. This can’t be good. I gave it a few hours, but nothing changed.
So, back to Sears. Once again they are sending my watch away to the manufacturer, and I’ll have to deal with my dreaded backup watch.
The timing (no pun intended) could be worse, but not by much.

So some people wonder how Steph could possibly be supporting me on this endeavour. Well, I remember her biggest encouragement:

It was on a Friday night, October 28th in the year of our Lord, 2011. I arrived at her domicile, and found her sitting in her master chair. “Steph,” I said as soon as I laid eyes upon her. “I am in need of your counsel. Should I train for and partake in the triathlon known as the IronMan?”
She looked up at me and replied. “Erik, my dearest friend, I have thought long about this very question. I have come to my conclusion after many months of pondering. You should not put hand to water, or foot to pedal. Never shall you know the joy of two-wheeled manual transportation, or the cardiovascular benefits of the waterborne. You shall not participate in the IronMan.”
With great respect, I asked for confirmation. “Steph, this sounds unlike your previous decrees. Are you truly convinced of this?”
“Hear my words and know them to be true. I say unto thee, Nay, thou shalt not IronMan. You must continue with the treading of foot on pavement and trail for distances and landscape hither to undreamt of by common man. The Steph has spoken.”
“Truly you are wise, and I cannot go against your wishes. I will do as you say,” I humbly accepted her decision.

I may be paraphrasing a bit, but that was the gist of it.

I got the email this morning. “The draw has taken place and we have the pleasure of confirming your registration for the UTMB® race!”
Wow.
I’m terrified right now. But I’m sure the training will take that away. Probably until the week before the race.
A big part of me still wants to do the Death Race. But that is only three weeks prior, and probably not enough time to recover. But I’ve done it four years in a row. A mathematical pattern has been set!
In any case, I would really like to thank Steph. Without her support and encouragement, there is no way I would have signed up for this.

Tomorrow is the big day. I find out what I’m doing for the next year and a half.
If I win the lottery, it means I do not do the Death Race. Instead I will do the Mont-Blanc ultra at the end of August.
If I lose the lottery, it means I continue to do the Death Race. On Labour Day I will go to Montreal like I had originally planned. However, the worrisome part is that I will now need to earn a total of seven points over two years to qualify for the Mont-Blanc. If I have them, I automatically get in. No lottery needed.
I only found out last week that I need seven points. Usually it is five. The Death Race gives me three each time, so having run it twice I would easily have enough points. Now, I’m short one point.
So, I just need to tack on another ultra and I’m good? No. The two other ultras in Alberta that are worth points are full. A friend recommended I write them directly and plead my case; that might get me in. Or I have to travel somewhere else, far away, to get that last point. Assuming I even finish the Death Race.
In either case, I’ll probably do the Blackfoot ultra as a training run.

At the end of my big European trip in 2007 I overnighted in London. I didn’t have a hotel, but I was still in one of the greatest cities on Earth. However, I did nothing. There was such potential that I didn’t take advantage of.
For me, I know it as the time I wasted a night in London.
I am currently trying to do a major clean up of my home. Spring cleaning? No stone left unturned? I’ve gotten to the book section where I am doing a purge.
I’m coming across some old textbooks from university. These I’m looking closer at, in case there is any that have knowledge I feel I should be able to reference.
What I’m rapidly learning is that I wasted a university education.
Now I’m not saying that it a waste to get a university education. I’m saying that there was such potential that I didn’t take advantage of.
There were many courses I didn’t take that I should have. There were many courses I took that were useless, and I didn’t even want to take. They “taught” me things that I can’t even think of what real-world applications they could have been for.
Now, I’m not sure how much choice I had with my courses. I was not making a concrete decision to be in computer science. I started with mathematics, so those courses came first. But even when I got into computer science I always seemed to be only able to choose the courses at the tail end of the selection period. So my choices were limited to what was left.
I also took Honours courses, which seemed to be more geared towards theory instead of practical matters. It did not include the course on graphics, which I would dearly love to have taken. I consider myself lucky that I was able to get into a database course which my entire career seems to have used. Same is true for C++.

When I run, I like to wear compression shorts. I’ve worn them for the past decade, when I first heard that they were good for muscles. It took me six years before I figured out that I should be actually wearing real compression shorts instead of just spandex bicycle shorts. Live and learn. No harm, no foul.
Now that I’m wearing the proper shorts, I’ve come to respect the science. They feel like they keep my muscles from moving where they shouldn’t.
But I have had a few bad experiences with them.
The first pair I got seemed to really work. However, they may have been a bit too small for me. It’s hard to tell the sizing because they are supposed to fit tightly. Anyway, they ripped in the seams. (I wonder if a tailor could fix them?)
After a few other rips like that, I stopped buying the expensive ones, and got the mid-range models. These don’t feel as great; my muscles feel more mobile. However, I get in a rut easily, so I’ll keep at them.
What I am now noticing is not ripping in the seams, but holes appearing from wear.
It took me a couple of years to figure out, but pockets are very helpful when you are on an ultramarathon. A backpack stores a lot of stuff, but isn’t very accessible. A belt with pouches has clasps and zippers to keep them closed, which is defeating the purpose of easy accessibility. Everything is more difficult if you are already holding poles in your gloved hands. It’s nice to have a few small things, like food or a camera, that I can get to quickly and easily. So I took to wearing some shorts over my compression shorts. (It probably also made me look better; not quite as much on display.)
However, with these mid-range compression shorts, the fabric isn’t as wear-resistant. My thighs are huge. It looks like I’m wearing jodhpurs. So there is a lot of friction in the crotch. If I wear shorts, that friction will actually wear away at the compression shorts, causing holes. So, the shorts that are supposed to prevent everything from being on display, are actually causing everything to be on display.
I still need to carry things.
I’ve experimented with belts, but I find they bounce too much. And they also cause friction as the band rubs against the shorts. Is there a combination of belt and shorts?
So what I need is basically like shorts, except with no fabric in-between the legs. Then I can get deep pockets so that things don’t fall out. Best of both worlds.
…
I’ve just described a running skirt, haven’t I?

Do they come in men’s sizes? And can we call them kilts?

Last year, in February I went for a run in my shorts. In winter. That was the same day I got an injury that lasted for several months.
It was warm out then. It is warmer today.
Dare I risk it?
I do prefer running in shorts.
And I have a proven track record of not learning from my mistakes.

Well, relatively speaking. First post on the new system. Let’s see how it goes.
I am invariably inclined to compare this to my first post eight years ago, today, on the LiveJournal site.
Yesterday was, as it was then, New Year’s Eve. I took the novel approach of not even acknowledging it in any activity. Well, other than moving to a new blog. I spent most of the night going through my finances and getting them updated. I had declared I was cleaning up, and getting rid of all the small papers is an important step. But a lot of the time, when I clean, the place ends up looking messier. It IS an organized mess.
The biggest event was my toilet deciding that it no longer wanted to go on living; it died. It didn’t die in the spectacular oh-my-god-theres-water-everywhere way. The handle broke so to get it to flush I need to take the lid off and fiddle with the plumbing. Still usable.
For New Year’s Day, I did celebrate a bit. I got up (eventually) and did a pleasant 18.3 km run. It wasn’t too cold, and it was a clear sunny day. A significant percentage of the few people I encountered told me it was a “beautiful day” with no prompting. I didn’t plan out a route and went where the impulses took me. Well, I did plan a route but that evaporated as soon as I wondered if anyone was using the sledding hill. (They weren’t.) That took me in a different direction and I just went with it.
And so concludes my first Erik dump for the year/site.
Although I should mention an interesting observation. On my LiveJournal, I made a concerted effort to never mention my first name so I could pretend there was some anonymity. And yet in my very first post I stated it. Since my username pretty much gave my last name, who was I fooling?

This will be my last entry.
I don’t think I can do this anymore. I’m feeling all alone here. I’ve been trying to continue along for years, but who am I kidding. This isn’t worth it anymore.
I’ve outgrown LiveJournal. I started when I had friends who used it, but they all slowly flitted away. Or they just start using Facebook more.
And I’m a computer guy with his own website. Not a whiny girl.
So, after today (what little remains) I will be shutting down this journal and moving to my blog at http://www.airwreck.org/Blog. Tell your friends! I’ve already moved over every other post I’ve done. Although comments haven’t made the transition. I don’t think LiveJournal wants to give them up.
I am also fundamentally lazy, so it is a very standard WordPress site. I get the impression it would like to be in total control of my website, but I don’t want to give it the pleasure. Hopefully, one day, I will customize it at least a bit.

When I saw the movie, The Social Network, one of the more interesting ideas I saw in it was in the first fifteen minutes. While Mark Zuckerberg was doing a programming project of his own, he was writing his thought processes out into a blog as he was doing it. Lots of little post, but each revealing a problem and how he was solving it.
Cool.
I should do something like that.
The hope is that by writing things down, I will have to describe the problem clearly. Frequently, just describing an issue to someone, who doesn’t even have to understand it, has helped in solving the problem. Hopefully it will also help in the what-was-I-smoking-when-I-wrote-this syndrome that inevitably hits. But that should be more the purview of comments in the code.
I already have a personal blog, you are possibly reading it right now, but that doesn’t seem to be the best forum for what I’m looking for. That is for, well, personal stuff. This should be something more for technical issues. I’ve done a few posts like that in my personal blog, so I’m thinking of moving them to the technical blog.
My web hosting company has made it fairly easy to install a WordPress site, so why shouldn’t I do this? I’ve often thought of moving my personal blog to be hosted on my website via WordPress, but WordPress doesn’t allow me to filter the content so that only certain categories of people can read certain entries. There are just some things mothers shouldn’t know.

Over the years, I have noticed that I have hobbies that are no longer hobbies. I stay in denial for quite some time.
The first time I noticed this was with computer games. I would buy a game that looked interesting and fun to play. It would then stay in its shrink-wrap for years. I still sort of want to play Warcraft 3, but I don’t think it is compatible with my operating systems.
I basically thought I played more games than I actually did.
The next time was with DVDs. I would buy a movie I liked, and I would be lucky if I watched it once. It’s especially annoying when you buy a movie, and then years later, when you see it on Blu-Ray for cheaper than you originally paid for the DVD, you realize you still haven’t unwrapped it. I’m learning to let rentals into my life.
I think it is time for me to admit I have a third issue. Candy. I buy a lot of it. I barely eat any of it. I instead rudely push it on all my friends when they visit. Most of them are polite and try to make me happy by eating the fine Lindt chocolate or the After Eights, but I know their heart isn’t in it. I just have to accept that I need to stop buying treats.

I haven’t had television since late 2008. Back then I decided to stop paying for cable, and use the money I saved for DVDs of television series. It’s been working well, especially since I can borrow DVDs from friends as well. Cheap!
I think Shaw got frustrated with me. I’ve been using them for internet, and nothing else. I got a call a couple of weeks ago offering me faster internet and free television, for the same price. I suspect that they want to upgrade their network, and the stragglers are holding back progress.
They came today, bearing cables and modems, and set to work. According to my calculations and their claims, I will be paying $20 less a month for better service.
Unfortunately, with that came free television. I don’t really have time to watch television, so I don’t really see it affecting me much. Also, it is only standard picture which looks glaringly bad on my big screen. Mind you, I only observed a bit of the old Batman show, so that may have been a problem with the message more than the medium. It doesn’t have a PVR, so I would have to sit through all commercials.
Or is this the gateway drug to convince me to buy a better digital box?

Okay, Sears took back the watch. In 3-4 weeks I should have it back. If I am antsy during this time, please forgive me.
There was a sign, that I swear wasn’t there two weeks ago, that is now saying that they cannot guarantee the waterproofing after changing the battery on a watch.

I have two fetishes that are somewhat out of the ordinary. As far as fetishes go.
The first is maps and general cartography. I have openly admitted I will cross the street to go look at a map. The same can’t be said for your average porn. People tend to judge you if you get hit by a bus because of a naked women. The same isn’t true for a sweet piece of equirectangular projection.
My other fetish is time. I always want to know it. If I don’t have access to a watch, I tend to get antsy. I am one of the few people who still use a wristwatch instead of consulting a cellphone. (Looking at the wrist is faster than shuffling for a largish rectangle and pressing a button. Keeps your hands free too.) It is always there, through sleep, showers and [redacted].
I wonder what a psychologist would say about these two obsessions? Do I feel the need to be in control of my environment at all times? Is this because I feel so out of control of my life that I am compensating in other areas? Maybe a need to have knowledge of my surroundings?
It is the latter compulsion that is my current contention.
For the past month I’ve been noticing that my wristwatch is getting dimmer. If I used the light option (or Indiglo) the face would disappear entirely. So it was not without complete surprise that on November 22nd it decided it had had enough of life and gave up completely. i.e. The battery died.
I have used a Timex Ironman for almost all my life. There was a point where I could say I had the exact same watch on my wrist for half my life. Sure the wristband needed changing every so often, but the watch I had since grade eight survived me a long time. Then the buttons started to break in half and that was that. Since then, I haven’t had a watch that lasted more than four years. (I might be exaggerating, but I think that’s about it. The average is definitely below that.)
In the past decade, the quality of Ironman watches has gone down in other areas. Chiefly the watchband. The bands are now non-standard and are integrated into the watch. It is much harder to replace them. Once I had to replace the band by sending it into Timex. The weeks where it was gone were not pretty. Living in a constant state of fear of not knowing the time of day.
Now this watch I’m currently using is, maybe, a year old. So the battery dying this soon? Feels like I’ve been gypped. I certainly don’t want to send it into Timex in Ontario to get it fixed. And that watchband certainly looks like it would be in the way of taking off the back. I looked around to see what my options were. London Drugs couldn’t help, but they suggested Sears.
I went to Sears. It was not the greatest experience. I went to the watch department where the counter was empty of anyone resembling a retailer. I waited, occasionally going back to customer service to ask if the watch department was even open. On one of those annoying trips, someone did come to man the counter, and a pair of girls boggarted her. When I finally did get help, I was told that I should have been in the watch repair department. It’s over there.
Over there, I found a nice oriental man who was happy enough to replace my watch battery with a minimum of fuss and at a reasonable price. I made sure that he put the watch back on the correct side up. (I’ve had experiences where it was placed upside down which allows the watch to continue to function, but prevents it from making any sounds.) I also confirmed that it wouldn’t affect the waterproofing at all. If there were any problems, I had the receipt and could come back.
Two days later I noticed that it was starting to fill with water. That is not a design feature.
So, last Tuesday I went back to Sears and made my way to the watch repair department. This time there was a Hispanic woman manning the counter. She wasn’t nearly as helpful, and said that it would take them 3-4 weeks to send the watch back. Fine, I guess I have to. Not happy about it though. The agreement threw her, and she then started saying that I would need to speak to the supervisor. She’ll be in tomorrow during the day. Well, I work regular hours, I won’t be in. Okay, she’ll be in on Saturday from nine to two. Okay. I’ll return then.
Today, I drove through snow and incompetent Edmonton drivers to get to Sears. The same Hispanic woman was behind the counter. She was surprised to see me. The supervisor wasn’t in. She had changed her schedule. Try tomorrow.
I was making an effort to be polite and calm. I did not what to be that entitled customer who yells at people. I’m wondering if the tone of my voice was a little too stiff. She offered to phone the supervisor. I didn’t hear what was decided as she was speaking Spanish into the phone. The only word I recognized was “Amigo.” I think that was me.
She once again said that I could come in tomorrow to speak to the supervisor. I asked, “Do I have a choice?” She seemed somewhat meek when she shook her head.
I have passed through fear. I’m onto anger. Hate is coming up next.