I’m one of the documentation guys for the Fink Project mainly taking care of the FAQ. I talked myself into getting CVS access to help port Fink to the new Mac OS X (Panther) but then I also volunteered to help work on the new web site. We’re going try axkit which is an xml-to-whatever-format-you-want converter and I’ve had a heck of a time trying to get a web server installed with axkit working.

The problems I’ve had are:

• I couldn’t figure out how to get all the xml perl bits installed with Apache 2.0.48 on my NetBSD box.
• Apache 2.0.48 wouldn’t compile on my Solaris 2.6 machine without hand editing server/exports.c.
• I had a weird mix of Perl 5.8.0 and 5.8.1 on the Solaris machine.

So, finally, three or four days later, the web server should be close to running. Now I have to try getting axkit running.

Well, it was about two-thousand dollars cheaper than going to Japan. I heard from my friend that it is disrespectful to Japanese people, but I didn’t see that. What annoyed me most is how young Scarlett Johansson looked. According to the story, she was supposed to have graduated from Yale two years beforehand, but to me she looked like a little kid who had no place in the bars she was in. IMDB revealed her age to be 18.

I think it was another case of poor casting, like Elisha Cuthbert in 24. When Elisha Cuthbert was cast on 24 as a teenager, she was only 18 but looked older and, well, hotter. It was hard to believe her character was so young (and so stupid, but that’s another story).

I don’t know who does this casting. Probably the same clown who keeps getting Ben Affleck in movies. Ugh.

I turned in an application for a gas meter reader today and found out that when they ask for ten years of history, you’re supposed to give them ten years of history. I also found out, after walking through a bad part of town, that the post office only prints out a few applications for their jobs and you have to arrive early to pick one up. So much for that.

Nothing. But it was a bee-yoo-tee-ful day here in Portland today. I spent most of the day chasing compilation errors in some computer programs, mainly net-snmp in Fink. I suppose we all need our hobbies.

Yesterday I went to the funeral of a friend’s mom. I’ve known him and his family for more than thirty years. Maybe because it was a parent instead of a peer, there was a sense of distance to the whole affair. Since many of the people attending were Mormon, they seemed to think she was in a better place, a place I don’t understand at all. It was good to see the family doing so well and, at the very least, Mrs. Kelly is at peace.

Why is it that the two World Series™ games I missed were ones where the Marlins won? I guess I should be happy that the World Series™ is over and I can get back to watching football. And while there really isn’t anything interesting going on in my life, I can at least take pleasure in the fact that the Cowboys lost.

My friend Craig had a spare ticket to this year’s Warren Miller film, Launch so I went with him and his cool skiing buddies. Watching all the traveling, skiing, and snow boarding, all I could think is, “Man, I’m boring.” Plus, I missed watching the Marlins beat the Yankees.

Funny thing is, I just wrote a man page for the MacOS X program launch. Double geeky.

Triple geeky: I’m sure I’m going down to the local Macintosh store to buy the newest expensive upgrade to MacOS X tomorrow at 8PM, release time.

I am really missing some CDs. At least two Pet Shop Boys CDs, Journey’s Greatest Hits, and probably other things I can’t think of until I try to find them. The house is a mess so they could be hiding somewhere. I wish I could have misplaced something more like one of the three copies of Soul Coughing’s El Oso I seem to have, or one of the two copies of Erasure’s Greatest Hits, or even the copy of Lisa Lisa and Cult Jam that my sister stuck me with back in 1987.

I suppose I should feel some guilt as well, I left my dad before dinner but after he told me it was OK to go. He said he’d eat some leftovers, and even asked me how to warm a frozen chicken pot pie. After I got back, he was puttering around, mad at me, and the pot pie was still in the freezer. Somehow he decided there were no leftovers but, fortunately, some of the things I’d left in the refrigerator were gone and not in the garbage. I think he ate them and then forgot.

There’s a good chance that my father

and I will drive each other nuts before my sister arrives on Saturday.

And what did I do today? Played with my computer, looked for nonexistent job postings, etc. In other words, nothing much. I suppose the biggest event was trying to find my digital camera to take my dad’s picture.

I suppose I should set some goals. I can volunteer like I did when I was unemployed before. I’ve spent hundreds of hours sorting forms, changing linens, watching patient’s children, copying prescriptions, and — this is key in hospital volunteer jobs — folding and stapling. At one emergency financial service, I double-checked people’s math to make sure they weren’t blowing the budget.

It takes a lot of “training” to get to the point where you’re allowed to do anything: stack boxes, alphabetize records, promote safe sex, etc, and I should probably look into it before I go stir crazy looking at job posting sites on the web. I should probably also make sure I know what I’m getting into before “outreach” turns into “passing out condoms at the gay bar,” again.

I suppose I just don’t “get it.” The only part I thought was funny was when the little sister disappeared, but that didn’t last. It was all very cruel and unfunny to me.

Sort of like how “Citizens Against The Government Takeover,” (of the local electric utility) is mostly funded by Enron and PGE.

Sort of like how Rush Limbaugh, who said we should jail white drug abusers, is a white drug abuser.

Sort of like how there are no weapons of mass destruction.

Actually, the movie was nothing of the sort. The movie was just mean and made me glad I’m no longer in Junior High School.

In running news, I got a little gun shy after feeling like throwing up last time I went out running on Friday. I did a lot better because I took it easier. Maybe I’m feeling better.

If you have a lot of time to read, Margaret Cho has a blog now.

Oh crap, the Yankees won.

Double crap, Hanshin lost.

I should quit rooting for teams I like.

Usually, one of my computers goes on the fritz about finals week. I don’t have any finals any more, so I figured I’d generate some trouble for myself now. I usually update my NetBSD system daily (the NetBSD-current churn) and that’s why I have my fastest computer doing just that. I also decided to update my Macs to the alpha-release of Fink where I can run gcc-3.3 on Jaguar. And I fixed some, but not all, errors on my web site.

So, basically, I spent all day trying to get my computers to do the exact same thing they did yesterday. Of course I screwed it up and ended up reinstalling the NetBSD and my fink install.

This is all very geeky. What it means is that I played with my computers today. And tomorrow and the next day too, I bet.

My friend has decided he needs to see naked women and the only way he can do that is to go to strip clubs (and there are many in Portland) and dragged me to another one. I’ve got nothing against them but I can’t imagine anything good happening in one. Except maybe I’ll get drunk by paying a lot of money.

Once I was minding my own business in the local strip bar, having a good time, when a young woman came in and wanted to start a fight. She told me, “She’s going home with ME, not YOU!” Heck, nobody’s going home with me. I was just trying to spend all my money, a dollar at a time. I told her that. Finally, the bartender had to tell her to knock it off.

So there you have it. I can go to a strip club and not only can I spend a lot of money for bad drinks and marginal food (though I’ve had better food than you’d expect at a couple of strip clubs) but I can also get beat up by women in their early 20’s who want to go out with strippers. Too bad I’m not into kinky stuff.

Last couple of weeks, we’ve had our share of visitors. Some old friends from Japan, and my sister was here for two weeks. Her friends are in town as well and I haven’t seen them recently. So my sister is leaving tomorrow, just in time to miss the marathon.

She’s really the runner in the family. I only run 5 miles 3 times a week on a nice flat waterfront course. I avoid cars and off-leash dogs and that makes me much happier about my running. People ask why I don’t run the trails in my neighborhood but I almost twisted my ankle earlier this year on two consecutive trail runs so I’m back to running on the awful concrete. She’s run a few marathons &emdash; SF with me, Portland a few times, Chicago, Big Sur? and others I’m sure I forgot &emdash; trained with ultra-marathoners, and is much faster than I am.

Oh I also went up to my friend Greg’s house in the woods of Scappoose, but it won’t be wooded much longer. He has heavy machinery clearing the land so he can buy his daughter a horse. I am not too partial to horses. I’d rather walk or, barring that, ride a motorcycle.

The logging machines take trees and yank them out of the ground. They look like backhoes on steroids. Sometimes the trees break off, but I saw a clump of vine maples 40 – 50′ tall and 10′ across just yanked straight out of the ground. Taller firs and alders as well. It’s pretty amazing. He lives in previously logged tree farm-like property, so I can’t say too much against the logging, other than my previously mentioned aversion to horses.

I’m trying to come up with a list of songs I’ve used to cheer myself up. There are songs that I like, but aren’t quite peppy enough, like “Oh, Sherry” by Steve Perry. (I’m missing my best of Journey CD by the way.) While my favorite CDs include several Pet Shop Boys CDs and Scritti Politti, they’re not guaranteed mood elevators, either. So here’s what I can think of so far:

I can’t remember what else was on the list, which is why I wanted to make a list in the first place.

Perhaps I should list all the versions of “Blue Monday” I have.

We had some visitors from Japan the other week and one of them, a doctor about my age, thinks I should try to get into Japanese medical school. Funny, I was looking at the titles of Japanese novels at the local Kinokuniya bookstore and I couldn’t remember any of the kanji. Any fantasies I might have had about getting into med school in Japan were dashed to bits on the rocks of difficult kanji. Woo. What a horrible metaphor.

I wonder why I’m running so slowly lately. Perhaps I should add more measurements to my running routine. Yeah, like one of those Nike or Timex watches that has a pulse rate monitor, mileage counter, and even downloads to my computer. And I can pay for it all with my fancy new job.

Wait, I don’t have a fancy new job.

I’ll let my girlfriend buy it for Christmas.

Wait, I don’t have a girlfriend. And I’m not Christian.

How about graduation present?

I’m not sure I graduated. All I got was a form with a rubber-stamped signature on it that said my prerequisites were completed.

Well, I better get on with just dreaming about it. That’s going to take time away from my imaginary girlfriend and she’s not going to like that one bit.

Just to let you know that have chosen another candidate for the position of system administrator at XXX.

Thanks very much for taking part in our interview process.

Lets’s see:

• I got a call on Monday for an interview on Tuesday.
• My interview was only scheduled for 30 minutes.
• Secondary interviews were supposed to take place on Thursday.
• The above came in an email at 10:32AM on Thursday.

So that means either the email is poorly worded, or I’m just being jerked around. Either way, one (unsuccessful) interview in 6 weeks of looking for a job is pretty poor.

I have to admit that I’m more upset than I should be that I didn’t get a call back from the art school about the sysadmin job. They told me that the second round of interviewing would be Thursday, so I’m not expecting a call. Currently it’s Wednesday night, about quarter to eleven.

My sister thinks I shouldn’t try for the machining job. She says, “Oh, you should just get a computer job.” How close is that to winning the lottery nowadays?

Oh, and Hall-Kinion, worthless headhunters who have never found a single job for me since I started asking in 1998, are now posting jobs in Portland, OR that require you work in India. And guess what? cio.com has an article sayiing, “Non-Indians can’t get work visas to work in India.” Well, I’m sure their unemployment rate is a lot higher than ours.

I met my sister’s friend’s baby today, but for some reason I don’t think I have much more to say about her. She’s quite cute and intelligent, but as a guy, I’m sort of at a loss for words.

Well, I’d go drown my sorrows but I don’t have the energy.

Here it is, my first attempt at keeping a blog. Just trying different software.

Today was an eventful day. I went running and had a guy try to run me down. Near homicide by people who either blow stop signs or stop all the way into an intersection isn’t an unusual occurrence, and I usually end up screaming obscenities at the driver. But this time I just yelled, “Hey, stop sign!” and listened to him scream at me so enthusiastically that he was spitting out of his grey SUV, “What the F*CK is your PROBLEM? I SAW the sign! That’s why I stopped!” (Three feet into the intersection.)

My reply was just, “What’s your problem? You need to calm down,” in a very quiet, even voice, like he was nuts.

I had my first job interview since graduating with my MS in the field where all the jobs are being sent to India Computer Science. Running computers for an art school, which actually sounds like a good match for me. Now only if they think the same thing.

On my way back from the interview I went to see a friend who rewinds electric motors. He just let me know of a possible job running a CNC milling machine. So there you have it. Two leads for jobs I’m actually interested in, but one for a job I could do without going to graduate school, and another where all my practical experience was freshman year at Benson Polytechnic High School.