Category: Life


DAMMIT!!

Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.

I finished my research paper on 11/11. I turned it in wayyy on time. In fact, I turned it in by the original deadline. He extended it after I turned it in. Yesterday I get my grade: 60. Oh shit! What did I do wrong? I read the comments on the grade sheet: “No sources, not doublespaced, no citing”. Oh what in the fuck? I look at my paper. It IS doublespaced, I have sources! What the hell? I went back to the TRACS system where I submitted my paper. It still has my document. Oh no it doesn’t. It has my NOTES!!!! I SUBMITTED MY GODDAMN NOTES INSTEAD OF MY PAPER!!!!! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!

I have emailed my plea and will most definitely call during his office hours. I cannot believe I fucked this up. I agonized over this damn paper only to fuck it up at the last minute???

AeroGarden Crop pt. 2

It failed. Failed miserably. The plants grew like teenagers of NBA players taking growth hormones but something went wrong. They started to die. One by one. Like they were being pinched or chewed on. I own no cat and Tico is not that malicious or hungry. When I dumped the crop I figured out wat happened. Well, what I think happened. They included a flexible plastic coated wire to support the plants. You jam it in the little pod thing and the plants are supposed to grow on it. Well the part you jam into the pod still as the wire exposed. And it rusts. Rust + Plant = Dead Plants. Grrrr. So, yeah, no snow peas for me.

Sticky Situation

This past Sunday, I spent the day gathering supplies for homemade gift testing. See, for the last several years, I have given homemade jams/jellies as Christmas gifts. For the last couple of years I have tried my hand at candy making. I had some successes (alcoholic reindeer poops, quick fudge), some sorta successes (real fudge, toffee, caramels) and some outright goddammit-why-doesn’t-this-work (hard fucking candy). Hard Candy eludes me. My mold was too small, it wouldn’t release the sweet sugary goodness, it was messy, I scalded the cat (I don’t have a cat). I am so glad sugar is cheap. I tried the honey caramels again with a digital candy thermometer (yay!) and I guess they turned out. They look okay, but the house STILL smells of burnt sugar. It might be a success, I dunno. Some of you will find out come Christmas.

Monday and Tuesday I tested out new jellies. I like making wine jelly because it’s so damn simple. No fruit to cut or thaw, no weighing, no splashback of hot sugary napalm when a too large chunk of fruit hits the jar. Just wine, sugar and pectin. Ahhh. So I thougt, why not try fruit juice jelly? Hahahahahahahaha! When I think juice, I think jars of juice. Organic, no sugar added. Recipes think “take fruit, cook it, juice it, filter”. Eh, that’s work. If I go that route, I might as well make jam. I gave up looking for a decent recipe and adapted my wine one. Juice, sugar, pectin, and citric acid (for low acid fruit juices). Success? Kinda. Te first batch didn’t gel well. It was just really think syrup. I probably could have bottled it as a dessert topping. Second batch with different fruit yielded sligtly better results. I did learn that tart cherry will COMPLETELY OBLITERATE any other juice flavor. Cranberry will do the same.

Sooooo, back to the drawing board.

School

Things I have learned:

1) Being in graduate school, you would think that the admin and faculty would treat you like an adult since most of the students are, well, fucking adults. Many of us have jobs. Jobs in our field. Now, I’m not bitching about homework. I’m not whinging on about “oh poor me, I work and don’t have time to devote to your oh so important assignments.” No. I’m an adult. School means work outside of class. No, my bitch is with “Oh hey, I’m having office hours from 3-4pm today!” Yippe fucking skip. Or “If you don’t understand you need to come see me during my office hours at 1 in the afternoon in a city 40 miles away!” No, fuckhead, I can’t and you need to realize that…SO ANSWER YOUR GODDAMN EMAIL! I follow your instructions and format my shit like you said to and yet, your turnaround time is abysmal. You know what that teaches me? Not to ask you for shit.

2) Still with the “we’re adults” thing: “You need to be here on time so we can get started on time!” I’m all about that. If class starts at 6:30, start teaching at 6:30. If I’m late, that’s my problem (haven’t been yet!). I will slip in as fast and as quietly as my fat ass can so as not to disturb you. So when I see assholes come stumbling in 10 minutes late REEKING of smoke, I get pissed. You had time to smoke, but couldn’t get to class? Oh fuck you. Oh, and you two chucklefucks who sit IN THE FRONT ROW: Shut. The. Fuck. Up. It’s bad enough that I have to decipher the instructor’s accent but hearing you two chattering away in whatever fucking language it is on top of him is distracting. We’re all in this class because we’re fucking stupid in C++. You couldn’t grasp the difference between an integer and a double 4 weeks ago. So how’s about you shut up and listen to the guy in the front of the class. You know, the one with four degrees and happens to be head of the goddamn program.

3) Yes, you teach the Software Engineering Practicum class. I know. We all know. No, I won’t be taking your class because I don’t have to. I don’t care what you think, the catalog and the advisor say different. Stop pushing thesis on everyone. Not every goddamn topic should be a thesis. No, I’m not doing a thesis. Stop calling on poor Craig fifteen times every class period. We don’t care about his thesis. Your spelling and grammar are atrocious making your notes almost useless. No, I’m not doing a thesis! Your information is almost 20 years out of date. Stop telling us that developers hate the testers and encouraging it. If I tell you that I felt totally comfortable telling a dev that his code broke and the dev says “ah, okay, thanks!” I’M NOT FUCKING LYING. The bruised ego bullshit may still be alive and well but not everywhere. Stop perpetuating the attitude. 99% of the class will go on to become developers and you’re just fucking everyone they will have to work with. There are software jobs out there that have *gasp* NOTHING TO DO WITH THE GOVERNMENT. There are development jobs that *double gasp* have nothing to do with life or death software! No, I’m not doing a goddamn thesis!

4) Going back to school to get an advanced degree in the field you already have a job in, sucks donkey balls. Why? You learn the “way it should be” at night and live “the way it really goes” during the day. That fucks with you. You can’t help but be a cynic and write your answers based on reality. I mean, it’s an absolute *joy* to write a document for class that you’ve written 15 of in the last 8 years for work and have them be two completely different animals. That’s just a wonderful fucking feeling.

December can’t come soon enough.

Snot

I hate being sick. I hate coughing. I have not slept more than 2 hours at a time. The last good sleep I had was during the last 8 minutes of the Cowboys game Sunday. No, I’m not trying to be funny. There was 8 minutes left, I shut my eyes, and when I opened them, The Simpsons was coming on. I am so fucking tired right now. Something keeps waking me up every hour or so. Not a sound, just *bing* and I’m awake. I gave up around 9:30 this morning and dragged myself out to do my civic duty and vote. There were no lines. Whee for being sick. I hoped–HOPED–leaving the house would tire me enough to just pass out. Hahahahahahaha. Not even the so called “nighttime” medicine has done its job other than stopping my cough. Fuck you, Robitussin. You used to be cool. What happened, man?

Zicam (the makers of zinc infused snot on a Q-tip) makes a liquid multi-symptom cold/flu medication. It is clear. It says “any flavor you choose!” meaning you can mix it into soda, juice, water, whatever. I assumed that mean it had little to no flavor period. In fact, right on the bottle it says “Virtually taste free when mixed in any hot or cold beverage”. That’s important to note: when mixed in any hot or cold beverage. I took it straight. That’s some of the nastiest, artificially sweetened shit I have ever tasted. I would rather take orange/yellow Tussin (the stuff not even my mom will take) than this shit. Goddamn.

I watched 27 Dresses. All of it.

I’m too tired to sleep, too tired to do anything else. Ass. This is ass.

Wonderful timing

Out of work for 3 months. Home all day every day. When do I decide that I’m sick of the wallpaper border in the kitchen (that has long since lost its color) and the entry way and do something about it? Wednesday. Mere days before I start at my new job. I don’t know if that’s massive procrastination or just outright bad timing. It’s not like the house is in a state of inhabitability. If anything, the two areas just look plain. I pulled the borders, patched a hole, and primed the area. The parts that aren’t primed the stark white is eggshell. Yes, there’s a difference. And it’s big. Something will get painted to completion before Monday. Not sure which.

R.I.P. Spats

I have regaled many of you with stories about Jarrett’s cat, Spats (yes, the same one from the alarm clock incident). Spats was a cute tuxedo kitty that only liked Jarrett. She tolerated me because I fed her once or twice and gave her treats. I met her when she was about 9 years old. At the time I thought that was pretty old in kitty-cat years. Boy was I wrong. She was 9 in 1994 or 1995. She survived moving from Round Rock, to San Marcos, to San Antonio, and finally to Florida. She put up with Jarrett’s roommates, visitors, and her new “buddy” Puck. I am sad to report that she passed away Friday morning. In her twenties. She had a good life with an owner who really loved her.