soooo i didn’t get the job i interviewed for, but i didn’t not get the job.
basically, when i started the interview, the CTO was thinking i was not cut out for it. by the end of the interview, however, he said he was “thinking about it”, and would let me know when he came to a decision.

so yeah, that is great.

the upside is that i was told there is a place for me in IT, even if it is not this position, so that means eventual transition – a light at the end of the tunnel. i really wanted to be a deputy CTO though!

in other news, one of my longtime college friends is getting married this weekend, and i am the most unprepared for any wedding ever. i don’t have a present, i don’t have a travel plan, hell, i don’t even have my accommodation details worked out.

i’ve been working super-hard at work, training new assistant, etc. i have also been working on average another 2-3 days a week, and have three new jobs coming on board in, when does september start? oh yeah, friday.

i am swamped creatively too, with no time to work on all the great ideas i have. i have been sending myself little emails or making private posts here to try and keep them all fresh, but i am mighty afeared that i will be 80 by the time any of them see the light of day, if i make it that far.

happy hump day all.

final meeting with CTO at 3.
EDIT: I am not looking to leave, but transfer into a new position deep within the bowels of the IT dept. I forget sometime show much of my life goes on these days without me posting regular updates.

EDIT2: They rescheduled it for tomorrow. Great. I’ll sleep well tonight.

In Sorrow’s halls did soldiers sit,
thinking hard, on glories gone by.
What good is liberty and justice,
beneath a bleak and hopeless sky?

Foreign winds were unappealing,
and domestic weather unpolite.
What foolishness led the soldiery
into this backwards fight?

An age ago, the fighters thought,
their ranks would have been hailed;
pennants paraded, artillery cheered…
Where had their orders failed?

When General Greed and Corporal Interest
took control of all the battles,
these patriots, these soldiers proud,
became little more than chattle.

So it went, for many years;
“The Good Fight” always fought.
But those who decided “good” and “bad”,
had morals which could be bought.

The leaders’ hands were crimson-soiled,
their agendas dripped with blood.
Who cared of the life of innocents,
in the face of all the spoils?

Eventually, the general said,
to his henchmen, all crooked louts:
“Our way should be the only way,
lets stamp all the others out.”

Then the end came crashing down;
away burned all the soldiers’ sorrows.
Before their glances made it up,
their barracks became their barrows.

The day was won! Or was it lost?
By zealots, kings, and madmen…
For along with all the others,
the leaders also found their ends.

On bleakest plains of glass and ash
hell-winds sent devils out a-dance.
But in the wake of their stirring gait,
seed, sun, and sky found chance.

New hope was born, sweet rains returned,
the end was not as it seemed.
For what are endings, but new beginnings,
roaring on in tomorrows yet undreamed?

as requested, this queez will be a bit more soft hearted than the last. not that i am particularly feeling soft hearted, but i realize if i keep taking out my aggressions towards the world through these things, eventually you guys will scroll past them like memes. Also, this queez includes the first visual question EVAR!

so, there has been mention of camping that happened this weekend, but no pictures (yet).

i would like to share with you a creative anecdote that was borne of silliness. we were staying in an alcohol-free campsite (read: smuggle in booze). we got in late on friday, and the ranger stopped by to tell us that we were in the midst of “quiet hours” and couldn’t make a fire or talk or even fart too loud. this led to all of us standing around a cold fire pit making up the following story about our “friends” who might stop by. this story is much expanded on the original tale, but keeps both the spirit and flavor alive and well. thanks to all the contributors who helped with its birth – , , J and E.

Once upon a time, Jim Beam, Jack Daniels, and Johnny Walker were playing in the backyard. It was very hot out, so they decided to go inside to get a drink. When they went into the cupboard to get glasses, instead they found the Glenkeir Treasures! Five magic bottles; one was red, one was blue, one was gold, one was green and one was black.

Poor Jim Beam decided he didn’t want to play with the bottles, so he had left the other two, and went off to find Old Grandad and shoot Wild Turkeys. Unfortunately, on the way to the hunt they fell off Heaven Hill in Highland Park, because they lost their way in the thick Canadian Mist and slipped in the Tullamore Dew. Old Grandad drowned in Knob Creek at the bottom of the hill, but not before he put a Bullet into the Redbreast of his grandson, as he rolled to his death.

Johnny Walker decided to drink out of the red bottle. He only took a Wee Dram, and quickly found himself fast asleep, like Pappy Van Winkle. While he lay snoring on the kitchen floor, Jack Daniels took the remaining bottles, to see if he could sell them down at Sullivan’s Cove. Along the way, Jack stopped in at Baker’s Hill, where Michael Collins, a Wild Scotsman, stole the bottles while Jack was admiring the Baker’s Blue Hangar. When Jack discovered the bottles had been stolen, he was very upset, so he decided to go play Leapfrog with Evan Williams down at Rock Hill Farm.

After leaving Baker’s Hill to meet Evan, Jack met the Queen of the Moorlands, who asked him to be like St. George, and vanquish the foul beast which was terrorizing her land. In return, she would offer Jack her Four Roses. Bravely, Jack crept down to Lindores Abbey, seeking the Old Man of Hoy, who might tell him the secret to defeating the beast. Unfortunately, Jack met the beast while creeping, and had no Talisman to defend himself against The Peat Monster and its Formidable Jock. So much for Jack.

Michael Collins, figuring that Jack had been on the way to Sullivan’s Cove with the bottles, decided instead to go to The Six Isles to try to sell them. It took him many days journey, and Three Ships: a Merchant’s Ship, a Cutty Sark, and lastly, a Mercian Ship, to get to Port Ellen, near Knappogue Castle. There Michael sold the bottles for a hefty price to Duncan Taylor, the Crown Royal of James MacArthur’s Old Masters, and used the funds to purchase a Golden Horse, which he rode home faster than the Famous Grouse.

i am deaf in my left ear, due to getting water pressurized in it yesterday lake swimming.
i had a blast camping in CT this weekend, but this ear thing is really pissing me off. i am, literally, half deaf at the moment, and it is really hard to function!

pictures on flickr soon, or tomorrow, who knows.

tonight, i am off to risky business at PPOW. if you are around 555 w. 25th street, and looking for something fun to do tonight, stop on by!

i spent a lot of time this weekend thinking about infinity. the bow on the infinite crisis was tied up in an anecdote told last night by L’s dad, who mentioned that one of his family members used to go out to the ocean and cry. she said it would make her feel better, to feel so insignifigant in the face of the ocean, and offer her some perspective and release.

that is how i feel a lit. much of my day-to-day is spent busy, so that i don’t focus on the signifigant insignifiganec of being. we all have red-hot egoes, and good freinds, lovers, loved ones, etc. when you hit that “zoom one layer out” button though, we are ants on a hill. hit that button again, and you can’t tell the ants from the dirt.

there are about infinity minus one zoom levels from level three, where we cease to be recogniseable, much less meaningful.

we name things, we chart things, we study things. predictions and classifications give us a sense of control or understanding. ultimately though, we are no different than the bacteria on that grain of night-sleep sand you rub from your eyes in the morning, except for scope.

kinda mollifying, huh?

i think i am morbid because i killed a snake this weekend. i was collecting firewood, and there was a garter curled up in a rotting log, that broke in half when i picked it up. the snake was none too happy about this perdicament, and got a good snap in on my arm. i grabbed him and did the whip-cracky thing before i realized what i was doing. it made me sad. i buried the snake under a rock. survival of the fittest and all that, but shit, it tied in with this infinity trip i was on.

so what does everyone have goin on this week?

so, in no particular order, here is what my life has been like since i left town:

  • Had a four-and-a-half hour flight to upstate NY. Remember all those crazy storms a week ago from tomorrow? That was me sitting on the runway.
  • I rode a mechanical buffalo. Well, really, it was a mechanical bull, but it was dressed up as a buffalo.
  • I went to a kickass Canadian restaurant, which is one of the best meals i have had in N. America outside of NYC. In addition, I got to dine with and .
  • I took some neat photos. I hope to have them on my Flickr soon.
  • I went to a strip club. Rather, I was taken to a strip club. In Canadia. I was taken to a VIP room, where someone was comping the evening for four people with his AMEX black card.
  • I bought a bottle of Absinthe, for old time’s sake.
  • I worked a lot, slept very little, and am more-or-less on the verge of total collapse.
  • I re-connected with an old friend, who I have not talked to in over four years.
  • I drove in the worst rainstorm I have ever driven in. I was doing 20mph in my rental with the wipers maxed, and I still couldn’t see a single thing.
  • I finished an entire bottle of Single Malt Scotch, by myself, slept two hours, then woke up at 6am to do laps in the pool prior to getting breakfast.
  • I met someone who knows as much about Old English and Beowulf as I do.

I had internet access, but no time. If I missed anything big in the past week, let me know!