I am so angry, I could spit nails. Of course that would damage my dental work, so I'll just have to swallow them and let them burn in the darkness of my soul!

I still don't have a bed. Let me say it again: I &#^#%@ still don't have a &$^#%^&* bed.

The company I bought the bed from is a member of the Gately Family of Stores. The Gately Legacy that comes I guess from a store that started in Chicago years ago is supposedly based on customer service. The founder's quote is "If the customers don't leave the store with a smile on their face, then we have failed." Naive individual that I am, I assumed that meant they would not be pleased with failure. I didn't realize that the second sentence was probably "screw them, as long as we have their money."

The first person I talked to (a week ago) said that he was contacting the vendor and would e-mail me with status and instructions within the hour. Not having received any e-mail by the following morning, I called them again. This person called the vendor while I was on the phone. She returned with information saying that the vendor had apparently listed the wrong cross braces on the bill of materials, and was trying to figure out how that happened. Sorry, I couldn't care less. Send me my freakin' parts. She e-mailed me the following day to tell me that the vendor had issued a pick-up order for the wrong parts, and that I should expect the right parts on Monday. She would e-mail me the tracking info as soon as she got it.

I called them immediately to express my disgust. If this had been handled the first time I called, I'd have had the parts before the mattress arrived (the one without the tear). I actually asked to talk to the supervisor, as I didn't want to yell at the front-line person. The supervisor wouldn't pick up the phone, although she tried to get him three times. She was ticked at him, and we commiserated about the problem for a while. She promised to get the tracking numbers and see if she could further expedite the shipment. I knew she couldn't do anything, and wasn't surprised to find an e-mail the next morning with the tracking number for the pick-up, but no number for the delivery. On a whim, I checked the pick-up tracking number and discovered the UPS had been by the house for the first attempt. UPS is usually really good to me, and I was surprised that I hadn't received a note or call or something. I had the box all packaged and ready to go, so before I left for work on Monday, I had the box on the deck with a note for UPS. It was gone when I returned with a note from UPS indicating it had been processed. However, my parts weren't here.

I waited until late in the day on the chance that UPS would deliver my parts. Finally, I called the company again. The guy I talked to this time put me on hold and came back with the information that my parts would be delivered tomorrow, and that he had a tracking number. Would I like it? Yes, I would. Ok, he sent it to me immediately. I got the e-mail and checked the status. The idiot sent me the tracking information for the parts I had returned. Yes, the vendor is going to have their parts back, but where are mine?

I called back immediately, and added a few words of profanity to indicate the level of frustration I was feeling. This guy called the vendor who was no longer available due to the lateness of the hour. He informed me that he would find out more in the morning, but I don't expect to hear from him. I'll have to call back. There is still a slight chance that my parts will come today, but I am not optimistic.

Maybe this is a plot by Annie. She doesn't want me to move back into my room. She likes knowing that I am there watching over her on nights like last night when she is running a fever and waking up to check her temperature every couple of hours. Yeah, not only am I sick, I am very tired.

I could have cut and welded the parts myself by now...

As I rebuild every. single. room. in our house, I am trying to make it an oasis. A world that we live in and come home to that is comfortable, and just like we want it. It takes me a long time, but I'm usually fairly pleased with the results when a room gets done. I'm not so naive as to think that when I 'finish' I won't start attacking some of the rooms again... especially the rooms I did first. My room is sort of the center of that oasis. A room that I feel completely comfortable in and should I ever aspire to date again (and the person I want to date reciprocates) she will also feel comfortable and at peace in the room. As a result, I've not been as concerned with price. It may take me longer to buy something (I don't like buying on credit), and of course it takes me forever to complete a building endeavor, but I get what I want.

I scoured the web for beds, and finally decided on something that I think I like. It was to arrive yesterday. I ordered sheets that also were to arrive yesterday. I went to a mattress store and bought a mattress that must be made with gold springs that was to arrive today. Things have not worked out as they should.

Bed: The bed arrived last night at nine at night. That didn't really bother me except that Annie wanted to help me build it, but it was too late. So, this morning I started putting it together. I got a couple pieces assembled before we went to school, and was able to finish it in about a half hour after I got home. I wanted it done so that when the mattress arrived, the movers delivery folks could help me put it in place and reduce the risk of tearing that would no doubt result from me moving a king-sized mattress set by myself. Well, I couldn't finish building it, exactly. You see, some brilliant person put cross beams in the package that were for a California king. They are too short to make it across the bed. I called the company and after twenty minutes on hold, the high-tech answering system hung up on me. I called back, and got a customer service representative in about ten minutes. I held back my frustration as much as possible, and he assured me that he would expedite the shipping of the correct parts. He was going to send me a confirmation e-mail within one hour. That was seven hours ago, and no response. They are closed for the day.

Sheets: The sheets arrived yesterday. However the picture on-line was confusing and the duvet cover was not what I thought it would be. I don't like it. However, it can be improved so I won't complain too much. The flat sheet was not in the package even though I was told that everything was in stock and ready to ship. Fortunately, the flat sheet came today, so I guess with the exception of not liking the duvet cover, the sheets went alright.

Mattress: I was given a window for the mattress delivery of noon to four. I competent individual called me this morning to inform me that he could narrow that down to two to four. Of course, by the time he called I was worried about where I would store the mattress. I got a call about three from the delivery person. He told me that he was in Santa Cruz, and was preparing to come deliver the mattress. Unfortunately, after his last delivery he checked out my mattress set. The box springs had some black stains on them, and there appeared to be a rip in the mattress. He didn't feel comfortable delivering it to me in that condition, and it was a good thing, because I would have created a volcano of anger if I had seen it after what I paid.

So, three instances of incompetence that have resulted in me not being able to sleep happily in my own bed tonight: 1) Idiot who assembled the pieces of my bed for shipping, 2) Idiot that reviewed bedding online and didn't realize what the picture represented, and 3) Idiot who loaded my mattress set and didn't care about how it was treated. This behavior is far too accepted anymore. I don't apologize to myself very well, but the other two still have not apologized for their mistakes.



Hmmmmph...

Bad things often happen in threes, and I thought I had counted my three. Apparently, if you fix any of the three things too quickly, you are in line for the next bad thing. I was working fervently on finishing the trim today, while Annie and her friend Samantha played and wrote on most of the outdoors with sidewalk chalk (trees, rocks, retaining walls, gates, the deck)... At one point they came in to use the bathroom (together). Annie came out and said the toilet wasn't working. I was afraid that I knew what it was, and I was right.

There is a clog in the sewer line. I have a big plumbing snake, which has never earned its keep. When I went to get it out of the garage, I was shaking my head. I knew that I would spend a half hour, at least, getting crap (literally) all over me, and would not be able to get the clog to release. Sure enough... Keep in mind that any fluid that gets put into the sewer system currently has only one way out: the unbuilt master bathroom. The plugs for the shower drain and toilet drain were not intended to have to deal with this level of fluid. There will be a lot more subfloor to replace when I get to the bathroom remodel.

Fortunately, my new external house lights are pretty good, and I was able to shovel off the soil and grass from the septic access, and strangely enough the plumber answered his phone. Hopefully by tomorrow at around 10:00 am, the girls will be able to take the bath they were hoping for, and I will be able to take a shower. I also got ahold of the house cleaners, and have rescheduled their wonderful visit, just in case. Yeah, I know. That immediately makes you say, "you have house cleaners, screw you." That's fine, and I will humbly bow down to inferiority as long as you are a single parent working well over forty hours a week, and doing major remodeling to your house. If not, I think I can take you.

Well, I'm still hoping to cut some more pieces of ceiling trim before the girls go to bed, so I'd better go. I've been dealing with work stuff for the last half hour or so, so time is a wastin'.

Need to build an outhouse...

Don't get me wrong, I think the utility of the internet is incredible. It just turns out that there are a few bugs with getting multiple computer systems to talk to each other, or look up the right information. When I agreed to do the Distinguished Lecturer talks, I figured the big time drain would be creating the presentations, and of course, the actual travel. Once the presentations were made, I would just have to tweak them every now and then, but it shouldn't be too bad. As I get better at the travel, I find places where (if I get my travel approvals on time) I can shave off an hour here and there by choosing my flights and hotels carefully. I've got all that down, so there shouldn't be any more time required, right? Well, I must think otherwise or I wouldn't be typing this right now...

It takes hours to plan the trip. It shouldn't, but it does. Airfare is expensive, and I have a budget for these trips that gets difficult to meet, especially if I have to travel to the other coast. Thanks to the wonderful internet, I can look over a multitude of flights to determine what I can afford both with respect to money and time. I have to see how long it takes to drive from the airport to where I'm supposed to give the talk, and sometimes I can't get there if I fly the day of the lecture. Back to the flight schedule, and see if I can afford to fly the day before. Annie hates it when I have to do that. Once I find a reasonable schedule, I submit a travel request, and wait. And wait. By the time I get approvals, the original schedule is shot, and I have to do it again, pray that I stay within budget, and THEN book everything. Annoyingly, that means I have to foot the bill for about two months before I get reimbursed. Frequently, that includes the hotel. Since when did we have to pay for a hotel in advance?

After the trip, I have to fill out a reimbursement form, put all the receipts and form in an envelope, and forward an electronic copy of the request to the Society. Then I wait again for them to get around to saying yes or no. Then I finally send the envelope with confidence in getting my money. This is the largest professional society for electrical engineers in the world. Do they electronically transfer the money? No. They write a freakin' check and put it in the mail. In the mean time, and here is the issue with computers talking to each other, I have to watch my credit card like a hawk. This morning I discovered that the hotel billed me again for my stay. This is the second time this has happened. After a half hour on the phone, I was assured that a refund would be issued to my card. I know it isn't a lot of time, but it is tedious, and unnecessary. Come on! Before you hit enter on the billing would it really be so hard to check the account for payment? It's probably not even 'enter.' It's probably a mouse click. Put down the donut and coffee for a second, and actually look at the account. The worst part this time was that the hotel billed me less than I had already paid for the stay. Frick.

Ok. Whining terminated...

Like I have anything better to do?

I started college in 1988. Some of my friends went into the military, others started jobs, still others went on to college as well. I had a little money from my parents to get started, had some scholarships, and had $70/month from my great-great aunt (Annie) for spending on day-to-day expenses. Others I knew were already making money. Maybe they weren't making a lot, but they were making something... I, on the other hand, was just trying to learn more. It was going to make me more employable, and allow me to earn more money. Patience was the key to success.

Two years later, I was still in school. I had taken a part-time job to make some more money. Had excelled in my studies enough to gain another $4000/year in scholarships to pay for school. Some people had finished with their Associates degree, and gotten jobs. They were making reasonable money, and were very happy. I never waivered from my course. I took a job as a Resident Assistant; partly because I thought the job sounded interesting (positive impact on others, etc.), partly because it would give me three hots and a cot without going to jail to get them. Ok, I only got two hots on Sundays... It was ok. I was learning amazing things, and had long since discovered I had a knack for this Electrical Engineering thing. I had no money, put patience was the key to success.

Two and a half years later, I was finishing my B.S. (take that to mean what you want.) I had taken a student loan and a part time job to make it through the last semester. I interviewed with a few places, but found the jobs lacking. I wanted to know more. I waited until just past the last minute, and beat the streets to see if I could get funding to go to graduate school. I found the necessary funds. My friends went off and started making good money. I went to graduate school. Noodles and sandwiches were generally the fare of choice, but it was ok. I was learning so much the first semester that I went home with a headache before I started on homework that took me into the wee hours of the night. It was ok. I had no money, but patience was the key to success...

Two years later, I took the Ph.D. qualifier exam. I never thought of stopping. The test was given right after St. Pat's weekend, which was huge at my school for partying. I had a call from a friend with whom I'd gone to high school. He and another friend wanted to come up for St. Pat's, and hang out with me. I couldn't. I had to study. He didn't understand. Granted, I'd lived through a number of St. Pat's celebrations, one of which I was a St. Pat's Knight, which leaves gaps in my memories due to the required consumption levels... I took my qualifier exam, and received under-the-table information that suggested that if I hadn't received the highest score they had ever found on the exam, it was one of them. In fact, I raised enough stink during the qualifier that they do it differently now. Another friend called after a several year lack of correspondence. I can still hear his words, "I can't believe you are still in school!" Some of my friends had stopped after their Masters and got jobs. They were going to make really good money. I had received a National Science Foundation Fellowship, and felt like I was doing quite well at $14,000/year. It was about a quarter of what my friends were making, but I was in Rolla, and it was ok. I was living the good life. It wasn't great, but patience was the key to success...

Three years later, I finished my Ph.D. My mentality caused great conflicts with my advisor. He told me at one point that I should quit, or find another advisor. I refused on both counts. I continued through constant threats of not being allowed to complete my degree requirements with evidence that others in similar situations were being treated much differently. I was getting input from industry that suggested that I was doing the right thing. I excepted a job from Sun before I graduated without even being interviewed (I interned for three months). Intel asked me if I was sure, because they felt they could make me a good counter offer. I told them that I had already agreed to join Sun, and I had to stand by my commitment. I need to learn from others that commitments are actually "maybes" cloaked in security. I finished my Ph.D. with no opposition. My final exam went faster and smoother than anything I had yet experienced. The verdict from my advising board was simply, "if he's not qualified, I don't know who is." That's paraphrased, but that's the information I got. I finished my requirements, received my Ph.D., and prepared to work at Sun. The money was mediocre, however, I believed I would show them what I could do, and they would quickly start paying me what I was worth. I really loved the people I had met when I interned, and was prepared to do what I had to do. Patience was the key to my success...

I started out being assigned mundane projects. I accepted this as I really knew nothing about how the industry worked. I assimilated this information very quickly, and was soon begging my boss for projects with more "meat" in them. He gave them to me. Over the next several years, I started working on changing the job that I did. My boss was in favor of it, and with the exception of a few major battles, we finally found ourselves in a position to change my job to what I really wanted to do. Well, almost. But it was close enough for then. I'd received a number of promotions faster than my age typically allowed, and after some hiccups had salary increases that were comensarate with my level. I'd dealt with a number of issues centered around my degree, but had put the lid on my temper and struggled through. I was doing what I wanted, and I could take the response of others.

Now, my boss is leaving. It is probably a very disheartening thing for him that what he built can't stand on its own. I'm being asked to go back and do what I did five years ago. Some of the derision I've dealt with since I came to Sun has come to the forefront. I was patient in attaining my degree. I'm sick and tired of being called a 'Ph.D.' with the sound of inferiority. I already get it from my family. My sister is the only one who has any respect for my degree and what I do. The rest like to say I'm a Ph.D. but think that how I work my job is somehow beneath them. I don't have enough physical labor in my job apparently. That's ok. I've dealt with that, too. But now my job has changed to one that will leave me unmarketable to anyone else. If I do this for more than a year, no one will touch me with a ten foot pole. They know they've got me by the testicles. I can't leave the area because of Annie. The things that I do really well have moved out of the Bay Area for most businesses. Apparently, they have actually talked about it. "David is in a corner, he'll do whatever he's asked to do." That seems to be the concensus...

So? I only have one thing, and that is my integrity. I'm tired of my degree talked about in a derogatory manner. I have a new plan in my mind on how to deal with this. Maybe I'm simply too nice to people. I can change that. Maybe I should be fired. That will certainly make me make some changes... One of my friends/co-workers called me tonight and we had a lengthy discussion, where I think he made a primary point of asking me not to cause any more waves. I don't want to negativelly impact any of my co-workers. Well, none of my supportive co-workers. I personally think I've been accepting of criticism far too long. I just sit and say, "I understand what you are saying." Screw that. If I were at my same level in management, I would not have people four or five grades below me talking disrespectfully towards me. I'm not going to accept it as an engineer at that level. I do things. I make things happen. I convince people that my way is a good way to go. I pay attention to what other people are concerned with, and meld it into what I want to have happen. Maybe Sun would be much better without me. My new boss doesn't want me doing what I'm good at, my old boss is already thinking of being out the door. No one cares about what I want. I'll find someone who does.

Patience is the key to my success...



Done.

I've had a really, really good week... up until yesterday. Even then, it didn't get really bad until today. A very dear friend of mine had to fly today, and I was a bit concerned about it, but it apparently went off just fine. Hopefully, my flight on Monday goes as well. However, with the flight stuff hanging over my head, I didn't need more issues. I was already concerned that I wouldn't be able to take my computer on the flight. No one can guarantee me that they won't tighten the security even further to close out computers and cellphones. One airport person told me today that they had refused a Game Boy on a plane.

At any rate, my computer started seriously dying last night. I have a presentation to make so that I can give it next week. I've spent most of the day and most of yesterday trying to get it to come back to life. I killed the video driver to back it up, and write my frustrations right now. I really don't think I'm that hard on computers, and don't know why they have to die on me at critical times. This same thing happened right before I had to go to Denver, and the machine came back to life. Had it not, I could have sent it off and gotten it back fixed by now. But no, it had to start working. Now, I am trying to rebuild another computer (thank all that's good that I had a backup lying around), and still haven't had a chance to work on my presentation. Yes, yes, I know. Why did I wait so long... Because things are supposed to work, thank you very much.

It looks like I'm almost ready to switch to the backup computer... Maybe I'll get this freakin' thing done after all. I mean, it's only 7:30 pm, surely I can make a 30 minute presentation in a couple of hours... Fortunately, my dear sweet daughter is very accomodating. I can work on it while she has horse lessons tomorrow morning...

Kickin' notebook computer into the trees...

Yes, I've been divorced twice. It's strange how other people look at it. I recognize that I'm responsible at some level. However, the lion share was with my ex's, and I am fairly certain they would agree. It's a bit irritating at how people will look at me when I say I'm divorced twice. There must be something wrong with me, I must have done something. What's wrong with me? Well, to heck with yall! I'm a very dedicated person/spouse. I struggle, but would never consider leaving on account of difficulty. Oh well, everyone is allowed their own opinion... Opinions are like... noses. Everyone has one, and they can pick their own...

Comfortable with myself... Up yours.

Today is a bad day in history anyway, but this was just icing on the cake. Icing made of strychnine, that is...

I was sitting on the deck not twenty minutes ago working away at the computer, when I heard a terrible cracking noise. It was coming from behind me, and my first thought was that the garage was collapsing on the motorcycle and all my tools. I should be happy that it wasn't that, but I turned around to see a fir tree that was in excess of 200 feet breaking into pieces and falling down. It was almost hypnotic. As it went the top 30 feet or so snapped back the other direction, I guess because of inertia. At first I wasn't concerned. It looked far enough away that I shouldn't be concerned.

My neighbor came over to make sure I had done something stupid, and we went looking for the tree. We found it...

The tree had come down and essentially obliterated my barn. I don’t have the right shoes right now for climbing in to see if the only valuables I had in it were spared, but I think they were. The trunk you see, by the way, is about four feet in diameter…

Wishing I'd been under it...

Normally, I'd be able to say FIREWORKS! However, around here no fireworks are legal anymore. What the heck happened? Apparently, it's another instance of a few morons screwing everything up for everyone else. The Fourth is normally my favorite holiday. I love fireworks. Half of it is not even the love of setting off and viewing the fireworks. It's the planning. When I was kid, we'd get this catalog from Big Don's Fireworks and pore over it for hours. Can we get those bottle rockets? Those firecrackers? Those rockets? Those Roman Candles? Those fountains? Then one day I discovered mortars. Holy cow on a pogo stick. I eventually evolved into walking around large tents filled with all sorts of fireworks, savoring the experience that would follow when they were set off. Back in 1997 my buddy Flanders and I set off a ton of fireworks, many of which took a wrong turn and shot into a grove of very dry hickory and oak trees. But, we ran off after every one of them to make sure nothing happened, and no one got hurt. Trust me, that sort of surprises me, too, given the level of our enebriation... But apparently most of California has decided that the government needs to save us from ourselves. I could understand the concern of fire, but most of what I've read about this has been an attempt to keep people from hurting themselves.

Dang it, if we hurt ourselves isn't that our business? I'm sure people can fight me on this, but I will always fall back on one tenent: Fireworks are a blast, and the Fourth is the greatest for having the opportunity to celebrate with fireworks. God bless the Chinese for inventing fireworks... Too bad that western Europe took their technology and turned it into cannons...





Thinking of breaking the law...

I'm the kind of person that when you ask me if I want the good news or the bad news first, I choose the bad news to get it over with. So, in keeping with that philosophy, I'll update on a bad thing first as I try to catch up on my random thoughts.

About two weeks ago Annie's mother's maternal grandmother passed away. It was a bit of a shock. The family was very distraught, and to further depress the family, everyone knew that the paternal grandmother was also dying. She passed away a few days later. Two great-grandmothers in less than a week. It was a very emotional time, and Annie went to stay with the family for several days. After the funerals, Nana asked if I would join them on a Mother and Mother Memorial Ride. I decided that I could work over the weekend to catch up on whatever I've let slip from work, and I agreed to go. I spent pretty much the entire day on the motorcycle, and we had a great time with some much needed laughter and fun.

Still a bit melancholy...