..........

gee, i'm sorry; did i make you feel uncomfortable?  i'd love to apologize, but, between the two of us, i think i'm the only one who should be taking this entire thing somewhat personally.  *sigh*

i read somewhere that the best way to deal with the bad, was to literally flip-it, and consider it the good.  honestly, today's affair been a pretty entertaining way for me to make light of the entire situation...

that said, i think it's time for me to sneak out of here; i quite think i'd like to go skip along the cliffs in me wee pink frills while i can still get away with it...   ;)

as the probable last post of the month, i'd like to bring it back now, full circle... turning again to a song by the endlessly talented psb, currently spinning in my headphones.

funny how the semantics of really well written lyrics can twist and change defintion with time; in retrospect, this october certainly turned out to be much more interesting than i could have previously imagined.

( change the dedication from revolution to revelation? )

tick, tock, tick, tock..  single digits on the tta-timer now!

october 31, 2001 - 14:35  (t - 9)

i wish i could say that i didn't understand this very silly film.

bet he was up late the night before, banging his head against walls, trying hard to think of a proposal to submit to some film teacher, somewhere...  witty.

october 31, 2001 - 9:54  (t - 9)

two (potentially disturbing) thoughts:

• standing at a urinal, in the mens room, wearing a pale pink shimmery slip is just about the most interesting way to start conversations that i have ever stumbled upon.
  
  
• dressed like this, so close to my last day, leaves a strong probability that i might be remembered, from here on out, as that guy that wore skirts to work.  (nevermind the several years of prior trouser wearing service...)

october 31, 2001 - 6:43  (t - 9)

right now, i'm distractedly instructing an administrator from the army on how to use vi, (to update conf files for his server), whilst straightening my bright pink skirt.

i can't help but giggle to myself while sitting in my cube, along the back wall of a darkened floor within a practically uninhabited office building.  surely i am going mad?

the question is, which element is more disturbing?

• it's not yet 7am, and i've already been on the phone with the army for 40 minutes?, or,
• i'm having to instruct a supposed 'adminstrator' on how to use vi?, or,
• i'm wearing a pink silk skirt?

jack's halloween theme :: (1) pink slipped engineer.

ingredients :  (generic engineer)
(1)	short sleeve, button down shirt.  (white)
(1)	unassuming tie.  (black)
(1)	pair of, framed glasses. (black)
(1)	pocket protector, labeled "we Be geeks"
(1)	pair of, simple black trousers.
(1)	pair of, simple black shoes.
(1)	pair of, dark colored socks.  (appropriately missmatched)
(1)	shimmery rayon slip.  (pink)
(i know you're thinking this is sounding like my typical work outfit, but roll with me, please...)
instructions :
1.	remove trousers in violent, somewhat unexpected manner.
2.	laugh at subject for being caught with trousers down.
3.	cover skinny white legs with shimmery pink rayon.
4.	arm with 1000's of ineffective, invaluable stock options, and a box with which to pack their belongings.
5.	escort to door, pat on back, say "thanks for your hard work," and send out, into the night.

october 30, 2001 - 15:31  (t - 10)

big progress today on the project;  now, we are exactly where we should have been about 3 months ago.  i cannot help but to hope that we will make similiar progress tomorrow, and this solution might finally be deployed?   if i should be so lucky...

hands ache and my tummy hurts; i guess it's time to go home.

i wish it was still raining...

october 30, 2001 - 11:07  (t - 10)

sharks circle my cube in silence, dark eyes concealed with protective membrane, they lick their lips in anticipation...

just as i vacate space once considered 'home,' others are herded in.  the company intends to contract again, this time attempting to shoehorn it's entire sc based workforce into one floor of the last remaining building.

jack, recently downgraded from very desireable office to relatively indesireable cube, now sees his cube real estate go up sharply in value.

characteristics like fundamental proximity to windows, back door, and many recent 'home improvements,' (built in creature comforts like lockable shelves, closeable door panel, and floor to ceiling wall panel windows), now bob like fresh chum in the water.  ...taunting the sharks that circle.

it's about as pleasing as watching your homework blow down the street because you forgot to take it off the roof before driving away in your car.

that said, aformentioned floor to ceiling window now acts like glass bottom boat, a silent movie for jack's viewing amazement.  others pass, hushed whispers glide from right to left, and he wonders...  who will be the new alpha cube predator?

october 30, 2001 - 7:32  (t - 10)

as i listen to chopin, op. 28/15 (an integral part of the jack-culture program, recently escalated by jf), i notice that the sun has now started to come up.  the bright reds from the liquid amber outside my window begin to find definition and contrast, even in the cold gray air.  it is definately autumn now.

deep reds, then gray, some brown, then evergreen beyond.

tomorrow is the final day for she, and i just realized that today is the first time that i may say that my own is only " next week," not "in a few weeks," as i have been lately.

needless to say, this only heightens the 'what-the-hell-am-i-going-to-do-next?' apprehension that i'll be swimming in for a while.

october 30, 2001 - 6:47  (t - 10)

it's raining outside.  hard.  i haven't seen rain like this since yesterday, when i was in portland.

it was quite cold there, i bought a new sweater; a charcoal gray merino ribbed sweater that is soft and warm.  it has a longer than average neck, one that can't help but stand tall, almost to my ears.  it's a good sweater for hiding.

actually, i don't really need another sweater, but this one seemed so appropriate, so perfect.  (and, it was very difficult to resist an item from the republic, on sale, in a state with no sales tax.)  perhaps i am weak?

right now, it is still dark outside, as the sun has not yet come up.   (and, well, it's cloudy and rainy still).  earlier, the pitter-patter against window pane overhead sounded like a good reason to wear a warm comfy sweater with a big neck that you can hide in.

now, as i sit in my cube, i hide in my sweater, and wonder just where those east coast people are, seeing how they're supposed to be calling me right now.

yesterday, in the field behind the timberline lodge on mt. hood, we threw snowballs at each other.  i was laughing then.

october 26, 2001 - 12:01  (t - 14)

"shuucks, didn't work this time eee-ther; fig-er i'll restart the server 'gen."

ackkkkkkkkkkk.....

i could start ranting here about hillbilly network adminstrators that solve any terminal services / networking problems by continuously rebooting their hardware, but that might lack panache.

october 25, 2001 - 16:30  (t - 15)

this project; these people..  as my final task here, i have been asked to bring closure to one of the outstanding escalations assignments that i've been working on.

on paper, this is fine and dandy, but i'm dealing with a particularily enigmatic customer, several time zones away.   the process has been very arduous at best, but it's the down time that's the worst.

the later part of the day, when they have gone home, and there is really very little i can do, but sit and update doc..  or, clean up code that has been polished 30,000 times in the past, all while i was waiting to be contacted by their various 'administrators.'  (this assignment has been really off and on, for the last several months.)

this afternoon, it dawns on me...  seeing how this is now my sole reason for existence in this cube, in this office, i should modify work hours to sync with theirs.  i'm tired of time zone excuses.

that said, it would make sense to shift my work day from 9-5 to 6-2.  (ouch...)

it is impossibly difficult to justify this in my mind..  going out of my way for a customer or a company that could neither really give a damn about me in the long run.

next week, i will start this new schedule.  next week i will try and display a level of professionalism that i have yet to see from the company itself.

i tell myself : soon this will all be over, soon i will be sitting by the ocean, in the sunshine; this final push will help to clear my conscience...  just another assurance that i have done all i could to complete my task, given the obstacles.

october 25, 15:29  (t - 15)

argh.  this project is sooo frustrating...  methinks it is a particularily cruel irony that this will be my closing memory of the company.

spoke with the insurance company today: the claims nurse called me with feedback based on my appointment with the hand specialist yesterday.

"the doctor is very concerned; preliminary tests suggest that your rsi might in fact have developed into carpal tunnel.  she has asked for nerve velocity testing to be done, and wonders why it hasn't been done for your case previously."

duh.  i've been telling them this for 4 months, at least.  i restrained myself from mentioning that it was probably because they've been sending me to bumbling idiots hitherto.

i can only imagine that this mess is going to become overtly more complicated once the tta-timer has fulfilled it's destiny, and the company jettisons one broken engineer (with spacetrash, moments before jumping to warp).

*sigh*

fine state i'll be in then.

october 25, 2001 - 11:30  (t - 15)  (dragonspeak)

in a recent im, jf just claimed, "jack's fab sab."

jack's fab sab = jack is fab sab = jack is fabulous sabrina?

conceivably, it might take a therapist years to undo the damage that has just been done to my self-image.  sheesh....  ;)

october 25, 2001 - 9:17  (t - 15)

mmmm...  jack steps out of the shower, gets dressed, and finds fresh oj and hot waffles waiting on the breakfast table.  yummy

but i can't help but to eat them in controlled silence...

the mind races : is this a pro-active "i'm sorry" attempt?  what is really going on here?  am i terrible person to immediately suspect that some bad news is about to befall me?  to immediately assume that somebody wouldn't do something 'nice,' for no apparent reason at all?

i need to learn to get over this, i need to accept things for face value, at least once in a while.  in film, this practice is called 'suspension of disbelief...'  if i am able to do it there, why am i so bad at it in real life?

or maybe i'm not...  maybe i am too good at suspending the probable and suspecting the improbable?

that said, sometimes i think it might be healthy to curtail runaway thought processes generated by an overtly active imagination.

$ ps -ef | grep "troublesome thought" | xargs kill -9

all that aside, thanks for the waffles!  (in case i forgot to say it)  a little late, i know, but they were delicious...

october 25, 2001 - 2:08

jack scratches head, stares at screen...  where did the evening go?

spent a lot of time working on a new project this evening; it seems i have forgotten just how effortlessly countless hours can slip by when i'm actually inspired by something.

perhaps i am just now coming to grips with how 'open' the future is :   the sheer volume of possibilities which are now viable avenues of exploration...

will i chicken out, scramble for another tech job, (any tech job?); will i bide my time, looking for a perfect tech job, (what is that, anyway?  surely research, but data visualization?  or ai?  or encryption? *sigh*), or will i shelve it all and chase my dreams with film??

that said, it's far too late to be awake; good nite.  what am i saying, i haven't even made dinner yet?

october 24, 2001 - 10:14  (t - 16)  (dragonspeak)

morning 2 : $1.25 for 8oz oj.   (stay on target, stay on target...)

new best-selling book idea : 'how i kicked the fruity beverage urge"

october 23, 2001 - 15:37  (t - 17)  (dragonspeak)

this afternoon, i stumbled across this amazing animation short again; i had seen it before, very much enjoyed it before, but today...

today, sitting in my almost-empty cube, it made me cry.

october 23, 2001 - 14:51  (t - 17)  (dragonspeak)

ok, dumb question :: in this experiment, how do they collect the original sample of nitrogen triiodide without triggering this reaction prematurely?

october 23, 2001 - 09:20  (t - 17)  (dragonspeak)

in a radical deviation from the norm, jack was witnessed making a decisive move within the cafeteria this morning; forgoing his typical, fullsize odwalla ($3), he reaches instead for the diminutive 8oz bottle. (<$2)

when confronted about this unprecedented change up, jack was quick to reference his recent layoff, then speculated about tight times ahead...

"i need to break this vicious habit...  today, maybe tomorrow, i'll wing it with 8oz bottles...  hopefully by thursday, i'll be able to forgoe the juice altogether, moving back to something else, something traditionally provided gratis, by the company.     ...something like coffee."

at that point, jack walked off down the hall, hair standing on end.   he was overheard muttering something about the irony of finally breaking the morning-coffee habit.

it is widely believed by friends and coworkers that this erratic behaviour is likely to continue, and possibly even increase in frequency as the tta-timer clicks down to its ultimate conclusion...

october 23, 2001 - 08:32  (t - 17)  (dragonspeak)

revolted by the morning news during breakfast, i turn to the one channel that carries morning cartoons that i can tune-in on antiquated tv :

teacher : ( and current driver of the magicschoolbus-submarine thing ) : "whoah, isn't it great to go to the surface?"

student : ( dark haired girl that looks like elementary school rendering of she ) : "no, it's great to sink.  i want to stay at the bottom."

(and no, i don't watch the magic schoolbus often, but i must admit, i have grown rather fond of 'sabrina the teenage witch,' which is aired just prior. ;)

october 22, 2001 - 16:56  (t - 18)  (dragonspeak)

aha!  i have finally solved the mystery!  now, i know the where that crazy duo pa goes when they're not playing their special blend of electropop-fizz; to their wardrobe!

the mind reels at the fantastic possibility of potential worlds that lie just beyond this unassuming (and improbable) portal.

clever kids, very clever indeed.   ;)

october 22, 2001 - 11:31  (t - 18)  (dragonspeak)

7am - soft gray light filtered through parted blinds; why am i awake?

i slide into an old faded pair of blue jeans, simple gray tshirt with blue rings at arms and neck, then 60's steely-blue turtleneck sweater that i found in dad's surplus ski clothes box.

 when it's cold, i like to wear it up and over my chin; its old wool, abrasive against cheek, constantly reminds me, "i'm still here."

moving on : one gray sock, one green, both obscured by scuffed brown rockports.  i put them on, but at the front door, to avoid tracking dirt on white carpets.

orange car, gray fog, my hair still on end from active sleep.   glancing in rearview mirror, i forgot to shave this morning.

like most mondays, i also forget to turn left, to drive directly to work; (perhaps i don't really forget, perhaps i am just unable?)  continuing straight, i again find myself racing up the 9.

the fog is thick here, nourished by moist undergrowth and cradled in redwoods that obscure it from the sun.  their tall silhouettes dance on both sides, gliding into, then out of view; yellow sign, left arrow, "20 mph."

familiarity with driver's handbooks suggests middle pedal; familiarity with pavement suggests that on the far right.  toes to brake, heel to accelerator, i double clutch with the left and downshift through a switchback.

understanding of this car grows daily; i now allow the back end slide around, ever so subtly, on the dew-dampened pavement.  angled thus, my foglamps illuminate snapshots of the foliage off the shoulder, down the ravine.

now sliding sideways through the corner, i am so caught in the beauty, the split second possibility of flight, that i freeze; as if forgetting where i was.  with no time, nor pavement to spare, the body acts without mind, straightens car, then spins off onto soft shoulder.

i sit now; motionless, idling.  disrupted dust, dirt, violently thrown into the air and suspended by moisture spins turbulently around me, and for a moment, i can see nothing at all...

back at my desk, tta-timer continues its countdown; we're in the teens now.  think fast jack, just what are you going to do with your life?

october 19, 2001 - 17:03  (t - 21)  (dragonspeak)

did you know that astronauts were short?  that there was a 6'3" height ceiling for applicants?

you'd think with all of those big fancy rockets, they might have had the insight (or the engineering resources) to provide some decent head room?

maybe if i slouch...

http://www.nasajobs.nasa.gov/jobs/astronauts/index.htm

oh wait!  vincent (ethan hawke) had some inches removed so he could apply to be an astronaut for the titan program in gattaca, right?

fwoosh...

october 19, 2001 - 16:00  (t - 21)  (dragonspeak)

temporarily away from my desk to attend a meeting, i found this story in an open IM window on my desktop when i returned...

today is the day, by kf.

once upon a time there was a little boy.  he lived in the mountains by the sea cliffs.  the cliffs were very very tall.

he always dreamed of flying over those cliffs and away to far off lands.  so he promised himself that he would one day fly away.  he started to make flying machine designs at a very young age... the older he got, the more elaborate and realistic his designs became.

his friends always told him he would not be abvle to build a flying machine.  (he was a very very poor boy) but he never gave up.  every day before he went to school (and later work) he went to those cliffs and closed his eyes and dremed of flying.  he would not give up, no matter what anyone else said.

so as the years passed by, he became an adult, still with the dream in his head.  however, no designs for a long time..  too busy with real life.  'i'll get back to it one day' he told himself he became very absorbed in his job working all the time.

finally, one day, he lost his job.  'sorry.. nothing we can do' says the boss.  the boy was very sad...  but remembered that he was going to fly.

 hw went to work on his machine harder than ever before.   he skipped meals and went without power to afford the parts for his machine...  asked local farmers for left over old tractor parts and such.  then, one day, he finally had it built.  it was time to fly.

he went to bed that night and dreamed of all the places he would fly to.  all the people would be so nice because he would give them rides with his flying machine.

the next morning he woke up, walked to the cliffs and said out loud (for the first time) 'today is the day i fly.'

one last time he looks back at his house on the cliffs and then - fwoosh!

it worked!  it actually worked!

the man flew away from his cliffs with the biggest smile on anyone's face ever.  i don't know whether he ever made it to wherever he was going, but no matter, he had followed his dream.

the end.

october 19, 2001 - 14:06  (t - 21)  (dragonspeak)

my friend jf's band is now in the process of being signed, and she has been struggling to come up with a bio that describes the duo.  well, she says that she has been having trouble...

park avenue music is :: the sum of two parts. a girl's thoughtful melodies and dissonant piano songs balanced by a boy's fluttering noises and hand-crafted downtempo beats. a modern mix of symphonic synth-pop. the perfect soundtrack for daydreaming. gorgeous.

don't know about you, but a) i consider this a pretty apt description, and b) it would certainly be enough to peak my interest if i hadn't heard of them before.

one of these days, jf will realize just how super-talented she is, (they are), and will learn to step out from behind the microphone.

i saw her do it once...  it was amazing.  (ankle twisting amazing)

..........

i can't help but wonder if she'll still talk to me after she's made it.

october 19, 2001 - 10:19  (t - 21)

3 weeks, 15 work days remaining.  my cube slowly becomes less me, less home; as i shutdown each evening, i bring home another handful of toys, pictures.  i tell myself it's easier on the wrists that way.

(it's easier on the heart that way?)

now that i've got all this time on my hands, i'm trying really hard to remember just what it was i used to dream about.

october 18, 2001 - 15:44  (t - 22)  (dragonspeak)

so, yesterday, at the end of the yoga class, we were doing 'child pose' meditative breathing, with lovely buckwheat bags on the eyes.  it was tremendously relaxing (especially after some of the more arduous stretches our sadistic instructor had requested), and i was swirling, lost in my thoughts.

after five minutes of this, as a conclusion to the class, she suggested that we each might have a single word on our mind.  a word that somehow summed up our thoughts at that moment, our quiet place.   (wierdly enough, she was right, i did have a word).

she told us to take that word with us, forward into the week.   to repeat this word to ourselves, as a sort of regrounding; a foundation to use while making decisions, while living.  a kind of mantra...

as i was rolling up my towel, i overheard other's speaking of the words that had come to them while meditating.  these were all generally copacetic terms, simple things like "breathe", or "relax".

suddenly, i couldn't help but be deeply embarassed for my word, "redundant."

for two days now, each time i've gotten frustrated, or needed to calm down, i've repeated this word to myself, under my breath...

"redundant"

   ...and you know what?  it is actually calming, in a strange way.

october 18, 2001 - 10:54  (t - 22)

big epiphany this morning...  jack finally thinks of a story that suits a 'scene' he's been playing with in his mind for months; finally.. a cohesive plot that is actully worth being excited about?

... and now that my social calendar has cleared up a bit, perhaps i'll find occasion to actually commit this one to film?  (just don't let it sleep in dusty notebooks with the rest of those poor ideas).

excited again, for the first time in what seems like years...

october 18, 2001 - 8:44  (t - 22)

bjork + 54 piece live orchestra = heaven on earth.

i had never attended a show at 'the paramount' in oakland before; what a perfect venue for a gig like last night : epic, classy, beautiful.   just beautiful...

an exception to the rule? :: bjork almost makes bare feet bearable...

that one song; red feathers, sequins (glass slides?), she spun, as if swimming in a world of bright turquise...  not unlike an aquarium.  i wish i could have been suspended from the ceiling, just floating above it all.  (trying to catch it all)

i wish i was smart like jf; i wish i would have thought to bring my flying feathers too.

october 17, 2001 - 14:26  (t - 23)

and this just feels like spinning plates
i'm living in cloud cuckoo land

yoga joga was very good today; i cannot wait for tonite.  (bjork!)

october 17, 2001 - 10:11  (t - 23)

wierd new phenomenon :: a track by the monkees is selected at random by the mp3 player, jackfrowns.

on dark thursday, ch sat in my cube, in the living room.  she was sad, worried about the news we were about to receive.  to cheer her up, i downloaded any monkees song i could find and sang them for her.

ch caught very few of my daily pop references, but she sure was mad for the monkees.  this snippet is from the the last song we played before we hid in the cafeteria behind bottles of green...

Now you know how happy I can be.
Oh, and our good times start and end
Without dollar one to spend.
But how much, baby, do we really need.

Cheer up, Sleepy Jean.
Oh, what can it mean.
To a daydream believer
And a homecoming queen.

from Daydream Believer, by The Monkees

october 17, 2001 - 7:55  (t - 23)

i have been having trouble sleeping again; the days are okay, i can deal with things while on my feet.  it's just the wee hours of the morning that have been problematic as of late...

since thursday, i have been waking up every night, (rather predictably around 2 am), and sleeplessly tracing alternate futures in my mind.

stay in santa cruz?  move north?  move south?  get another tech job?  go back to school?  train to be a pilot?  on and on the mind reels, only casually disinterested in the pet spider tracking exploratory paths in the stucco ceiling above me...

every night, this routine, except last night.

after talking to rm about travel logistics required to attend the bjork gig this evening, i passed out cold, phone in hand.  10 sweet hours of sleep; baby's don't sleep this well.

how do i master the perfect day?

six glasses of water, seven phone calls...

october 16, 2001 - 14:52  (t - 24)

still reeling for 'sticker shock' based on preliminary investigation of airfare rates to austrailia, our intrepid explorer begins pricing one way tickets.  (thinking it might be a keen way to save some money)

regretably, it seems as if these options cost precisely the same as the roundtrip packages.  jack pauses, scratches head...  he just needs to think of the right angle...

bingo!  9 digits later, he has his sister on the phone...

"so, sis, interested in a little walkabout next month?"

the plot grows thicker...

october 15, 2001 - 15:46  (t - 25)

excerpts from hot lead on new job, recently discovered by jf on : monster.com

Qualified candidates will have some experience/familiarity working with fanuc robots. Some training provided.

Please indicate in a cover letter or clearly in your resume your experience building, operating, troubleshooting robots and/or electro-mechanical equipment.

although, she and i agree, these would just about be the best business cards ever!   ;)

[jack, robotech] or, if you were a manager...
[robotech commander]

october 12, 2001 - 16:00  (t - 28)

email received from an (also redundant) coworker, (and very good friend) from the cambridge office :

the last week or so has been stormy gray clouds and rain all day long.

today the sky is a brilliant blue with not a cloud in sight. there is a nice breeze, but not windy. it is a perfect day for new beginnings. it is a perfect day for lying drunk on the lawn.

weather's great. wish you were here.

so, what's next?  i chose the last time, now it's your turn.  ;)

october 12, 2001 - 15:15 (t - 28 days)

the morning after : for just about 1.5 years, this company has been slowly purging staff..  in retrospect, it now seems like every quarter, a new friend or coworker was made redundant.  of those, a precious few were asked to stay on for a limited period, sometimes days, sometimes months, just to transfer intellectual property related to their current projects.

i always wondered what it would be like to be a workerbee, caught in this limbo-esque situation.  i mean, what does it feel like to have to sit at a desk, and spend your last few days working for a company that has pretty much admitted that they no longer value your time?  (or, at least, they value other things more than your time).

..........

sure was hard to get out of bed this morning...

october 11, 2001 - 17:00

end of day, thursday.  ch just left with her last box, she looked as if she was on the verge of tears...  so strong, she's done so well at keeping them in all day.

i have an infinite amount of respect for her as person and as an engineer; this company will never know what they just lost.

she, like i, like the others on this team, moved to this division when things were finally winding down with the *n*x OS's.  we all saw soo much potential in this technology, we all knew how far it could go.  (or, perhaps none of us wanted to work for the new mormon owners... ;)

we all opted to stay here, at this quirky little company, forgoing salaries that could easily be upwards of $30K stronger with only a 30 minute drive over the hill.  some of my old students, or even old classmates, the ones i sometimes helped to carry through the tough classes: they would all talk of incomprehensible lives, drive impossible cars.

for years, i have stood by my little company by the sea.  maybe it was because i was too comfortable?  instead, i'd like to think that i really believed that it would make it, (and it would take me with it).

looks like the only part of the internet revolution i'll be riding now is the one following it's current generally downward trajectory.

it's been swell, but the swellin's gone down.

i tip my hat to the remaining members :: you all are very good at what you do, please do continue...  for the 2.5 years i've been in the employ of this company, i still have not had the opportunity to exercise options for a profit.  you've got a month to reverse that trend.  (err, 29 days.)

alright then, i'm off to the pub.

october 11, 2001 - 15:04

(ladies and gentlemen, we are floating in space)
10.11.01 = 101101 = 55 = 45 = 2d = [eot]

so..  they have asked me to stay on until 11/9 to finish one of my projects; out of some sense of professional obligation (or perhaps, i just need the money?) i have decided to comply with their wishes.

my team now 'redundant,' it seems as if i will be the last of the pure development engineers in the employ of this US based software company to actually work in the US.  (survived by a few guys in support, and an escalation engineer or two; literally only a handful)  not sure how they're going to fare now, but i wish them luck anyway...

(shrug)

so, launch date of the plan is moved forward, and the countdown begins.  (and wierdly enough, this all seems to be a relief, as i'm sooo tired of having to worry about it.)

t - 29 days and counting....

october 11, 2001 - 10:28

Tarantella Enterprise 3 (3.20.606) FATAL ERROR: The program has encountered an error that means it cannot continue.

october 11, 2001 - 9:54

wow, it seems like it's going to be deeper than i anticipated: the team lead is in the little room, and rumours run rampant.  the air here too heavy, i walk downstairs to get the finall batch of ffj.

back again, i sit in my cube and raise a green one, for bgood.

october 11, 2001 - 8:36 (under the piano)

[3:34] - jack wakes up, but is unable to fall asleep again:  i stare at the ceiling for 3.5 hours, enjoying the subtle change of light.

could this be a sick metaphor for the firestorm that started in cambridge this morning?  i turn to look rushes through friends across the sea, then heads west, towards me?

it's thursday.

back to basics.  back to the beginning.  i shave with a blade, cheeks rough for weeks now smooth and flushed.  dark grey slacks, black button-down br shirt.  i put on my pedestrian black shoes; steve gave these to me when he got real docs, i think they're from target.

i can't help but wonder how steve is?  i used to tease him for being a welfare leach, always between odd jobs.  actually, he's really quite a talented painter, he just hasn't gotten motivated enough to do it for a living.

hair is brushed back; off the forehead, behind the ears.  i have a part for the first time in months.  i look at the image on my badge, so clean cut, so full of hope... i was an intern then.

i stand, staring at myself in the mirror: almost there, but i'm missing one final touch.  diving into the closet, in a shoebox at the back of the shelf i find it.  faded plastic, tired with years of abuse :: we be geeks.

instinctively, the plastic envelope shoots up, towards my heart, where it slides without resistance to my belt; damn br shirt... too slick for pockets.  smiling to myself, i place it carefully in the right front pocket of my trousers; colors so placed, i grab my jacket and turn for the door.

i parked as close as i could to the elevator in the basement.

october 10, 2001 - 16:47

the phrase 'under the piano' can actually mean two things :

• lying peacefully beneathe it's stout black frame, perhaps staring at your reflection in carefully finished wood, polished to a mirror-like sheen.  (it's the best place to listen to the pretty music.), or,
• walking down the street: imagine a camera's point of view from 10,001 feet, high enough to observe a cartoonish grand plummetting (from 10,000') at 9.8m/s^2 towards your ant-like form below.

i leave now, for the day, for a hand-therapy appointment.  i cannot help but wonder if this is the last time i'll see the sun cut horizontal beams through dust particles suspended in lazy air; past my window, past my monitor....

october 10, 2001 - 16:16

the neatest thing is happening right now: 100,000 ladybugs are walking on the window, just outside my cube.  i went and stood with them for awhile, turned to face the sun, warming my wings.

watching them buzz "hello," stay awhile, then buzz "goodbye" was pleasing.

you know, in the uk, they call ladybugs ladybirds.  i think that's pretty neat.

october 10, 2001 - 14:41 (in my labor-A-torie)

so; here i am again, sitting in the sound-sucking lab, and trying to finish my work.  (trying not to think about thursday)

music?  today i have chosen Mahler's 10th over the 8th, per her expert advice.  currently i'm about 10 minutes into the opening adagio, and trying to debug wether or not it is my program or the Xtoolkit itself which is currently misbehaving.  (honestly, i think it's something gone awry in the recently rev'ed KDE2, and i'm not quite sure how to wing a workaround).

in fact, it just dawned on me that this work could take another 3-4 days, and i find that endlessly entertaining...

you see, jf once told me that mahler died before completing the 10th; only a couple of movements (including the first, the adagio, which i think is the strongest) were completed.  the rest of this work was 'finished' by others (in this case, deryck cooke) and is now presented as a working draft.  (see jf! i'm learning!)

i must finish my adagio quickly; for next month i too, might be dead, and those remaining will strive to complete working drafts of these projects.  ;)

ooooh...   this is the good part!  - jack stands to turn up the radio far too loud again.  oh yes...  so many subplots you can swim in it.

*sigh*

it washes me clean, it washes me away.

october 10, 2001 - 13:33

i had lunch on the hill outside my window.  a reuben sandwich, salad, and some water.  afterwards, i lied on my back and breathed through the hollow woody stems of ex-weeds and stared at the clouds.

it was quite nice at the time, but now i have a lot of eco-rubbish on my back, and i can't seem to brush it off.

october 10, 2001 - 12:03

lunch time; still no bosslady.  jack reaches into his drawer of cafe discount cards; you know, the buy 12, get one free sort of thing?  previously, i had been saving them for a time i might be a little short on $$.

i guess i should go ahead and use them now, if i'm ever going to get the chance.

wonder what ingrid, the cafe queen will say; some of these are over 2 years old, and they look it.

october 10, 2001 - 11:19

bosslady is in the office, but she still has not walked around cuba.  every morning she walks by everyone's cube, says "hello," then stops to chat a while.

every once in awhile it's annoying because i'm trying to work, but most of the time it's pretty nice, as it really lends a gentle raport to take the edge off of cuban life.

i wish she'd walk around now.

instead, the three people on my team pass each other unneasily in the halls, all wondering who will draw the short straw.

half jokingly, we have started making wills...  this machine goes to coworker a; this plant? that should go to coworker c, downstairs.

i'm not getting very much work done.

october 10, 2001 - 10:30 (dragonspeak)

last night i dreamt that my father was missing, and that we (i and some others) were trying to find him.  i was an agent of some kind, not for the government, not for some political agenda, perhaps just for myself?

i had been chasing this blonde-haired girl for some time; for some reason i believed she knew where he was, and she always seemed to know who i was because she ran at all of the appropriate times.

(were this to happen in reality, it would be obvious that she is no different from any other girl i've met, based solely on this fact)

anyway..  for quite some time i had been on this investigation, during which i might have cornered her almost a dozen times, but she always managed to get away.  in fact, with time, it had evolved into sort of a game.  we were nothing but coy about it, each eventually developing (what i thought) was a deep mutual respect for the other.

after a while i trailed off, away from that plot, because kf had found and purchased a 56 porsche speedster.  it was blue, an oxidized crayon blue, and small.  speedsters /are/ small, but this one was tiny.  for some reason, in my dream, this seemed perfectly logical; i mean, everybody knows that porsche produced a limited run of micro-speedsters, and kf had just managed to find one.  it didn't even look silly...  in fact, it was quite cute.

the wierd thing was, it turned out that this porsche had a vespa gs 160 engine in it, with a custom differential to drive two wheels.  so, we went down to the scooter shop to find some parts to get it back onto the road.

skip, the guy i used to sail with was now running the scooter shop, and kf started flirting with him as soon as we walked inside.

i asked him what happened to mike.  he replied, "who's mike?"   i said he was the man who owned this shop, last week anyway.  skip said he didn't know mike, and then turned back to face kf.

i was sorta annoyed, but kept it to myself, and went to look at the new helmets in the corner instead.  i was thinking about how sabs had managed to get free of her desk job, and was now a photographer in paris.   or was it new york?  i don't even know anymore, but it was a neat picture that she had sent me.

walking past the front door, i saw the blonde haired agent again, and broke into a dead run after her.

intuitively sensing she had been seen, she spun on her heels and raced into a nearby building, dissappearing in the flashing glare of the sun reflecting off alternating panes of a glass revolving door.

over the helmet display, out the door, around the porsche, and across the street: i followed.

i knocked over a poor woman carrying groceries, and paused for a minute to help her pick up the cans of pineapple rings that were now rolling down the gutter.

finally inside the building, i saw the horizontal tips of her outflowing hair dissappear beyond the far corner of a highly polished marble hall.  around the security guard, down the hall; as fast as my feet would carry me.

at that corner, there was a set of double doors; heavy steel ones, very utilitarian, and in retrospect very out of place considering the rest of the lobby.

no handles, but i managed to slide my foot into the crack as the left one was just slamming shut.  not knowing what to expect, i stood to the right, behind the closed door, and threw the other wide open.

noise, light.  it sounded like 10,000 people.  pausing to catch my breath, i stumble around the corner to find an arena, with animated crowds sitting on metal scaffolding.  at the center, a pool.  i can't make out if it's water polo or synchronized swimming, but i do see her dark form silhouetted against the bright blue at the edge of the water.

she was frozen, as if lost in thought.  i ran towards her, then slowing to a walk just as i was within an arm's distance.  suddenly remembering herself, she spun to face me, body flexed for flight.  half tackling, half embracing, i took her into my arms and we flew into the pool sideways, quickly sinking to the bottom.

the roar of the crowd here is different, muffled.  sound audibly bending, it's form changing, in much the way that light refracts at the bottom of the pool, projecting gentle waves of vision.

up to our necks, we are both dressed in black; her face is only inches from my own and she does not squirm in my arms, only looks at me.  into me.

sideways, we skip along the bottom as a stone would skip on the moon; gently, and infrequently.  the surface above us is disturbed by the thrashing of swimmers, perhaps they haven't even noticed our intrusion. their eratic movements strongly contrasting with our passive glide along the bottom.

i smile to myself, realizing her eyes are same color blue as the far corners of the pool.

i can feel air burning inside me now; my body screams for the surface, but i am captivated by her.  she is not beautiful, perhaps more aptly described as cute, like the girl next door kinda cute...  her blond hair floats ethereal about her face; angelic whisps swimming, suspended in deep blue.

she too does not struggle, only smiles as she looks back at me.  perhaps she understands how beautiful this instant is.

i wanted to capture it.  i wanted to kiss her, desperately; purposefully?

eventually waking up, i realize it's wednesday.

october 10, 2001 - 9:06 (dragonspeak)

bosslady is still in her meeting.  my tummy hurts.

october 10, 2001 - 8:54 (dragonspeak)

black shirt, blue jeans, black adidas, black coat, black scarf and the black wrist braces.  in the garage, i turn away from the truck, the bright orange car, and lift a cover i haven't touched in months.

black scooter.

i haven't ridden a scooter to work since june; figure this might be my last chance to commute to work on one, wrists be damned.

funny, i almost forgot how fun it was.

october 9, 2001 - 17:47

so, i have now returned from my cranial sacral appointment; although i'm still not sure exactly what it is, this new age-ish, relatively hippy-dippy 'light touch therapy,' seems to have been the first form of treatment that i have found that has a profound effect on my wrist hurt disease.  (this, after 4 months of seeing some sort of 'professional' at least once a week).

wacky.  just wacky.

not only do my arms feel better (and work again), it honestly feels like i have a clarity and presence of thought hitherto (or at least recently) unknown.

actually, in light of the fact that i'm back in the office at 5:50pm might provide a strong argument against the previous statement.

the mountain outside my window swallows the sun: i think about thursday.

tomorrow is wednesday.  tomorrow morning, bosslady will know our fate, a fate that she will not reveal until the day following.   thursday.  i will watch her carefully.

things are moving much faster now...

october 9, 2001 - 11:11 (in my labor-A-torie)

i'm sitting in my lab.  a disc, recently received from a caring friend spins in the antiquated stereo on the shelf.  occasionally, i can hear the louder, more aggresive passages of vladimir horowitz pound out in defiance against the 'white - noise whirring' of fans from the server banks that surround me.

regrettably, the quiet, subtle passages are lost in this unforgiving environment.  i have already turned it up 2x's the volume i have ever previously dared...  this lab exhibits the strange phenomenon of music being louder outside than it is inside.  it would seem as drywall is exceptionally apt at filtering cooling fan whir frequency, leaving little to mask the sound amplitude this aging sony can create.

it is cold and dark, and i think i hear moonlight sonata and i consider the options at hand...  i have recently heard from a few coworkers; they are opting to take the package, to move on, proactively.  i would love to be in a position to do this, but i cannot.  i need more time.   i am desperately at the whim of the company.

i wonder if their new vacancies will be enough to save me?  i wonder if tam's (the chinese food restaurant by my house) is interested in hiring a delivery boy?  (i could ride my scooter.)  i wonder if this is really going to happen, this time.

i wonder about thursday...

...and i cannot help but to turn up the stereo again, to feel it.  i guess if you have to go out, you might as well go out with style.

 i choose beethoven.

october 8, 2001 - 17:36

perspective: - nothing like using hydrogen peroxide to scour the fresh wounds of someone you care about to get things like work off your mind...  ( good thing she was still in shock, i quite think that she might have knocked me out if she had managed to connect with one of those swings. )

code. code. code. code. scott sits in the lab, working on a project which he might not even get to finish. code. code. code. ring. his mobile, then desk phone take turns making noise. ring. code. ring. ring. but he cannot hear, he is in the lab.. code. code. ring. code.

eventually he walks out of the lab. eventually he get's the message.  imagining, as he is so apt at doing, the worse case scenario, he races through city streets to where the bad news lies, in several broken pieces.

poor girl.  poor scooter.  i'm sooo glad she's okay.  soo glad that we got her that new helmet.  sooo glad she went under the car, and not into it.

funny...  even though it took two years to build that bike, it's nothing, nothing at all compared to having her back safe.  not flesh, it's just a machine, and we can fix that.  eventually.

so here i am, back at work.  after a daunting little intermission, i have returned to prove what a valuable resource i am.  this morning i was thinking "why bother," wheras this evening, it's more like "why bother bothering?"

(miserability)

after remembering the ice and phone and water and remote control, i wish now that i would have thought to put out some ice cream too.

october 8, 2001 - 14:28

when you don't even know if you'll be around at the end of the week to check in your code, it's quite difficult to concentrate on writing it.

the irony of this fact that the realization that _now_ is precisely the time you'd like to look the most productive.

october 8, 2001 - 09:14

jack sits in cube, counts fingers...

yep.  9 rounds, 9 lives.  i think i've used up all my good fortune.

october 8, 2001 - 08:54 (dragonspeak)

this morning, i sat in a meeting where a tiny mechanical voice projected from another country through a little grey box informed the listeners that approximately half of those in attendance will not know a monday beyond this, while still in the employ of this company.

thursday.  worlds change thursday.  walks are taken thursday.

he sits up, as if awakened from a dream.  explosions in the distance have long since grown familiar, perhaps even soothing.  somehow their concussions have become commonplace; a suggestion that maybe somebody, somewhere, is doing something to end this.  

distant rumblings never quite seemed real as they tumbled through the landscape, and honestly, he had only casually considered what it would be like to be in the distance as well.

he can hear the whistling.  he rolls his turtle neck up, so it covers his neck, lower jaw, all the way to his nose.  it doesn't help of course, but it's presence is comforting; he slinks deeper into his shell.  this one is going to be different, this one is going to be close.

the fog is rolling in.

october 5, 2001 - 15:32 (dragonspeak)

random dragospeak misquote for the day :

october 4, 2001 - 16:53

damn it's been a crazy week...   still having trouble accepting that it's already october!

this time last year, i was this close | <---> | to quiting my job and moving to portland.  this year, this afternoon, i find myself wondering if i'll still have a job when i come into the office tomorrow.

i wonder if i'd still move to portland?  i wonder if i would take the opportunity to chase my dreams?  ...and what were they, anyway?

all of this seems to be a particularily appropriate introduction to a brilliant song by psb ::

so much confusion
when autumn comes around
what to do about october
how to smile behind a frown?
it's hard to settle down

it's so bemusing
will they cancel the parade?
we marched each october
now they say we were never even saved
we must be very brave

     shall i rewrite or revise
     my October symphony?
     or as an indication
     change the dedication
     from revolution to revelation?

so we're all drinking
as leaves fall to the ground
because we've been thinking
how october's let us down
then and now

shall we remember
december instead?
or worry about february?
mourn our war-torn dead
never seeing red?

     shall i rewrite or revise
     my october symphony?
     or as an indication
     change the dedication
     from revolution to revelation?

"my october symphony," by the pet shop boys.

october 1, 2001 - 10:11 (dragonspeak)

random dragospeak misquote for the day :