Ravings of a Textual Deviant

Today is my last day at this particular job. I’ve written my turnover documents, transferred my files, cleaned up the laptop, emptied my cube of personal possessions, been to my last meeting and to the good-bye lunch. I’m almost ready to turn in my security badge and parking pass. I’ll kiss one contracting agency goodbye and move on to a new one.

It’s been an adventure. I started this project in January of 2001 knowing absolutely nothing about software development. Now, I tend to think that software development is like sausage-making…once you know how it’s done, you’re a little afraid of the end product. It’s been an amazing learning experience, and I wish I could personally thank everyone who’s contributed to my education…intentionally and un. As much as the project has occasionally driven me around the bend, my leavetaking has a lot more to do with Stupid Employer Tricks than anything else. (When Stupid Employer Tricks take up 99% of my tolerance for what I’ll call nonsense, it makes all other nonsense seem that much worse. And every project has a certain degree of nonsense.) As much as I would like to see this project through, I am ready to say goodbye to it. It’s really the people that I’ll miss.

Twenty-four hours from now, I will be done with all my meetings for my soon-to-be-ex job. Getting there, however…let’s just say that now would be a really good time to invent time travel.

Sign spotted on the way to work this morning: “T & A Construction.”

Name spotted on white van a few months ago: “S & M Painting.”

And I used to think that Indianapolis was soooooo provincial.

I’ve started research for The Magnificent Seven, in which the characters will have to climb the tallest peak on each continent. In 1875. In ascending height order. However, it’ll be Castle Falkenstein’s 1875, which means that the characters will get to use magic. This is what makes it more than “an elaborate way to commit suicide,” as Dorothea so delicately puts it.

For those who must know, that means…
1) Mt. Kosciuszko, Australia
2) Vinson Massif, Antarctica
3) Mt. Elbruz, Europe
4) Mt. Kilimanjaro, Africa
5) Mt. McKinley/Denali, North America
6) Aconcagua, South America
7) Mt. Everest/Chomolungma, Asia

I tend to think of M7 as another of the Ellipses, but this go ’round, I’m going to run it face-to-face, with the characters as members of the British team. Theoretically, the characters won’t be competing with each other. Nor will the route be elliptical. However, I’ve been curious about how one of these “great race” type games would shake out in a tabletop setting, and now I’m going to find out. And I might just retool it for PBeM. You never know.

I haven’t been happy with my employer for some time…almost the entire time I’ve worked for them, which is going on 2 1/2 years now. This time next week, that won’t be a problem anymore. I’ve found someone I want to work for, and they’ve found work for me. It’s a nice arrangement. The health insurance will be expensive, but as my current rates are outrageous, it’s an improvement, and a nice pay increase softens the blow considerably. It’s also done wonders for my stress level. I’m not completely decompressed yet, but at least I no longer have the urge to chew off my own head. Small steps, as they say.

Game WISH #48 asks

The price and availability of miniatures goes up as more companies leave the market. Wood costs lead to extended paper costs, and supplements and gaming systems are becoming a serious financial investment. Is this affecting your gaming any?

I’ve never had a huge collection of minis, and that’s on purpose. I probably haven’t painted in ten years, mostly for lack of time and dedicated workspace, but also because as much as I enjoy painting, it’s definitely not my strong suit. Money has always figured into it, too, even when minis were made out of lead very cheap. When they’re cheap, I’m tempted to buy more of them, which adds up, and that’s without even considering the cost of paint and good brushes. It’s the same reason I never allowed myself to get into comic books–it can be an expensive hobby if you let it, and I can only afford so many of those. (I enjoy reading comics, but I tend to buy the compendia rather than each issue as it comes out, because I’m in it for the story, not the collecting.)

That said, it probably doesn’t surprise you that most of my gaming expenses are in books. Ed probably spends more than I do on games, but between the two of us, we’ve filled an entire 6′ bookcase and then some. I tend to buy books with a specific campaign in mind, such as GURPS Steampunk and GURPS Mars for the Lunar Ellipse, but not always. I admit that I bought the Buffy the Vampire Slayer game on a fangirl’s whim…although since I bought it I’ve felt the germ of an idea kicking around in the back of my head. I’m also not averse to buying used copies of books, or delaying gratification a bit to get a discount from Amazon.com.

In Role Call #20, we’re asked

In what homegrown setting have you had the most fun, and why?

Tough call, but I’d have to give this one to (Friday Night Game GM) Doug’s fantasy world–the one he games in, not the one he lives in. Doug is a hard-core physics and engineering geek, so when he designs a world, it’s tight…by which I mean that it’s both rich and internally consistent. The place has a lot of history, and every once in a while, you’ll run into a character from a previous game as an NPC. Another nifty feature of this particular setting is what Doug call “Null”. Null is when the sun doesn’t come out for a day, once a month (or a month, once a year) and the undead come out to party. Deity-of-your-choice help you if you get caught outside a stronghold during Null. I can’t explain the (astro)physics of Null, although I have no doubt whatsoever that Doug can. Some of the coolest campaigns you’d ever want to play in have been set on that world, and I suppose that my fondness for it has more to do with the fun I’ve had there than anything else.

This weekend isn’t the first time this year that I’ve fired up the grill. However, this is the first time this year that I’ve been cooking for just myself and Ed. Yesterday’s weather was absolutely perfect; no rain, low humidity, and cool enough that I wasn’t sweltering every time I had to approach the fire. I love cooking outdoors, and I’ve been known to do it year-round; the only thing that stops me is heavy rain or snow. Also, I’m one of those people who’ll put anything on the grill–meat, fish, vegetables, even fruit. (Stick some chunks of pineapple on skewers and sprinkle with brown sugar.)

Recently, I came across a nifty trick that not only gets the fire going, but keeps it going. When you’re building your little pyramid of charcoal, stick some wadded-up newspaper that’s been soaked in vegetable oil in the middle if the pyramid. This works best in combination with a small amount of lighter fluid soaked into the charcoal, but you can skip the lighter fluid entirely. Normally, I prefer to skip the lighter fluid, unless the charcoal or the weather aren’t cooperating.

Alisa, Jennifer, and I recently observed that all the males in our respective households seem to have a chronic tendency to leave dirty laundry on the floor next to the laundry hamper, as opposed to putting it in the laundry hamper. I asked my friend, Sean, if he did that as well, and if so, why? His answers were “yes” and “I don’t know.”

I started wondering if this was one of those hunter/gatherer things Ed occasionally comes up with. Obviously, it wasn’t intended to demonstrate hunting skill, because how is a guy who can’t hit a stationary laundry hamper with a pair of undies from six inches away going to be able to hit a charging mammoth with…well, anything, at any distance? As it turns out, it has very little to do with hunting per se. The explanation is a two-parter.

Part one: it’s a dominance/territory-marking action. Any other males who might find their way into the bedroom will immediately become aware of the presence of another, established male, because of the socks and underwear scattered about. The intruding male then (theoretically) accedes to the dominance of the established male and leaves. Any females entering the bedroom also become aware of the presence of an established male, and occasionally express sympathy for the established female (who has marked her territory neatly with over-the-door shoe holders).

Part two: Once the clothing has been removed, it is no longer moving. Therefore, it is obviously neither food nor dangerous, and so the hunter no longer sees it. If he can’t see it, then he won’t pick it up. The gatherer, closely attuned to her environment, becomes acutely aware of the dirty clothing lying on the floor. This can create tension between the hunter and the gatherer, and at our house, occasionally results in an underwear crisis, as the gatherer is right sick and tired of picking up after the hunter.

It’s hard not to notice that the Indy 500 is upon us. I couldn’t possibly have less interest in cars going in circles fast, but I do enjoy the parade. Even got to march in it once, with my high school band.

Anyway, I was driving into work this morning, and at the intersection of Senate and 12th street, I saw several parade floats parked underneath the freeway. (I’ve often wondered where you find a parking spot for something that big)
Far more interesting than the usual collection of suburban assault vehicles and yuppie-mobiles. Perhaps I’ll take a few minutes to gawk on my way home this afternoon.