Had a good time yesterday. Matt came over about 2 and we went out to eat, then drove around, having a good conversation. Then we split up for awhile and I read some of Lessig’s book, lounging lazily on my good chair. Jesse found me near dozing an hour or so later, and then we had a good conversation that ranged from the specialty of “journalism” vs. “mass communication” through to what we planned to do with the rest of our lives.

Then, logically, we went bowling.

The three of us — Matt, Jesse and myself — made a surprisingly good bowling combination because we were all not so good. We each talked a little smack but none of it was taken seriously. I almost won the first game with 112, but then Jesse pulled it out. Matt won the second. I convinced them to play for a third, which I called “a tiemaker, err, tiebreaker.”

Final result of that game? I won with a 149, including a 10th frame “turkey.” Good times.

P.S. Happy birthday, Jesse!

Q. What is the matrix?
A. A pain in the ass.

Well, at least it’s a pain in the ass that has ended. I would so much like to write “the presentation went off without a hitch,” but there were hitches. We had technical difficulties, for one: the sound dropped off midway through. Strangely, it only happened on AVI clips and not QuickTime 6 (MPEG-4) ones.

I was able to use this as an excuse to skip 2 of the 4 clips that were in the second to last section (Culture & Context). Even though I skipped that 3 minutes of video, and even though we instructed all the 6 groups that 10 minutes was the limit for each section, the two guys in that section took 23 minutes to present — and my lord, was it boring material. Slides full of text and a monotone drone about the Tao and blahblahblah. It was completely unresponsible and it left the final section (me, of course) with about 4 minutes. My partner had 3 video clips which he went through like a champ and I got about 75 seconds.

On the plus side, though the general presentation quality wasn’t anywhere near my standards, the stills/video clips looked gorgeous. I showed presenters how to make captures from the DVD which netted a lovely 960px wide image, while I ripped sequences directly from the DVD to AVI. Then we ran it on a large projector with a 1024×768 native format. Crisp, gorgeous.

Ha, that reminds me. Guess what computer we used? My tower. Kelly was able to secure a laptop from her department for us to use but the thing was locked down (Win2k) in such a way as to prevent my connecting it to any network other than on-campus. That prevented my transferring of the hundreds of megs of files we needed. That meant I had to bring my tower (and get a ticket for parking close to the building.)

I thought about cracking the admin password but I was up all night and busy as it was. Damn, I need a CD burner.

It seems my unlisted phone number and rarely-provided address have only protected me for a short time. First there was the mailing from State Farm. It’s interesting to speculate as to where they could have collected my name and address.

To this point, the only companies who know I live here are:

• Qwest (but I was supposedly taken off their lists)
• AT&T
• City of Ames (the utility is owned by the city)
• Hunziker Property Mgmt.

Given that the mailing came from State Farm HQ in IL}], I’m going to finger AT&T. Bastards.

Of course, even worse is that yesterday I got my first telemarketing call. I’m hoping it’s just a computer dialer (i.e., dialing all numbers.) But perhaps they’re looking for someone else: just moments ago I got another call asking for Dan. Unlike last time, this one was a female. Those at least are fun…

…Netscape dominated the browser “wars”? I was just treading down memory lane thanks to a hopelessly outdated presentation that I have to read for my Society & Technology class. In addition to a chart showing a computer connecting to an “on-ramp” at 28.8, it links to this great survey that probably makes Netscape employees wax nostalgic.

(For the record, the spirit of Netscape innovation is alive and well. It’s rising like a Phoenix…)

Methinks this might be a bug. (Also try page advance.)

[ “Huh? It worked for me” mirror. ]

The name of John has made you serious-minded, responsible, and stable. You love the security of a home and family, you are fond of children, and, as a parent you would be fair and understanding. Although you have good business judgment, you are not aggressive in your dealings because you do not like to create issues. You would be successful in any position dealing with the public as you have a diplomatic and tactful manner and possess a charming, easy-going nature which puts people at ease. People are drawn to you because they feel that you are patient, kind, understanding, and responsive. You would be effective in a career or in volunteer work where you are handling people and serving in a humanitarian way. While you are honest and responsible, one weakness that is paramount in your life is your lack of self-confidence and initiative, which causes you to put things off and avoid facing issues. Generally speaking, you have few problems with your health; however, there is a weakness affecting the fluid functions of the body.
— Baby Names – John

I could actually buy a lot of this. But what exactly are “the fluid functions”? (Insert Dr. Strangelove “our precious fluids” allusion here.) In any event, it beats weakness in the heart, lungs, and bronchial organs.

One of the great things about grandmothers is it’s like visiting a grocery store, without the inconvenience of paying. After a super-turbo visit for Jennifer‘s birthday, I was sent home with:

• Twenty bucks
• 1 lb. shrimp, cleaned
• 1 8 oz. container shrimp sauce
• 2 apples
• Gallon-size Ziploc bag of homemade choc chip cookies
• 2 packs Nestle Toll House break & bakes (also chocolate chip)
• 1/2 gallon best lemonade ever (in trademark glass bottle, natch)
• 1/2 lb. Chicago-style roast beef, deli sliced
• 2 cans Coke (gave to papa)
• 1 package Double-Stuf Oreo cookies
• 1 bag bite-size Hershey’s (with almonds, sadly — also to papa)

I love that woman.

Happy birthday, dear Jennifer.

I’ve heard back from the boys at AIT. The lowdown, in pertinent part:

For AFS (which is what your home directory is on) ... [w]hat matters is what the AFS acl [see section 4.1 of PDF] (access control list) says for that directory. ... You had system:anyuser rlidwka on your home directory and all sub-directories, which means that any user had full rights on any directory in your home. I've removed all of those.

How my ACL was switched to the ‘rape me’ setting, I don’t know. (Neither does AIT — there’s no way to check, and the user [32766] who “owned” homepage.html doesn’t exist.) However, I do thank “A.J.” for bringing it to my attention. Oh, and B-don.

9.30a – Haven’t been to bed yet. Attend class. Turn in paper.

11.30a – Bedtime. Set alarm for 5.00.

7.30p – Awaken. Good, didn’t miss W. Wing.

8.59p – Good episode. I like the way they’re allowing Sam to depart. Still, I think there’s going to be a big hole in the team. I wonder how they plan to replace him. Perhaps a gay cast member… (Sorkin, are you listening?)

Didn’t get all the fun with the quiz wrapped up until about 2.30 last night. Debbie came over and I did mine, finishing around 12.30 (he allowed 3 hours) and then let her take over the computer. Kelly called around 11.45 (got the number from my parents that night (!)) and said she was doing it as well.

So of course I was just too tired to go to that class this morning.

I got up about 11 and did some prep for a meeting with Critchlow at 2.30. The site is long finished, but he wanted assistance with various matters. Our meeting was productive, but I was distracted throughout: before leaving, I got an e-mail saying the professor from yesterday (Chadwick) was available after 3.30. (This was in reply to my note.) I, of course, fully intended to go over and have it out.

The encounter went OK, I suppose. I started with: “I want to know what happened Monday and why you think your reaction was appropriate and proportional.” We shared our points of view. He told me the areas where he thought I needed to improve and I returned the favor. Annoying psychological element: no chair in his office. I had to stand while he looked up at me over his computer. Oh well, at least I’m fucking tall.

Following that exchange, I went out for drinks with a friend. Though I anticipated it would be a laid-back, relaxing time (which it was, by and large), the friend shared a view of our friendship that was significiantly different from my own. It was more than a little unsettling.

I returned to the apartment about 9 in an unhappy mood. I was ready to watch Seinfeld at 10, but I received several phone calls that had me lying on the floor talking to various girls for more than 2 hours.

Oh, did I mention I have a paper due for Chadwick in 10 hours? Haven’t started.

Well, are we having fun yet? No. Let’s hit the lowlights of my day.

We begin with 574, where an otherwise pretty good class ends on a low note when the professor launches a diatribe (capped with a screamed “If it happens again, I’ll rip you a new asshole!”) While the text of the speech included no names (“several people”), he was pointing at me. While I had a part in inspiring the outrage, it was mostly a misunderstanding mixed with the guy’s general instability and lack of professionalism.

Completely distracted by the fact that I tolerated the guy’s offensive and demeaning display, I’m not at all of a mind to go to Stat. Debbie and I bail for the coffee shop, where we have a fairly deep (albeit depressing) conversation about our lives and future.

Debbie leaves for Stat lab, and I go looking for the prof in his office. He’s not there, so I leave a note.

Matt, fresh with car, stops by and we head to Des Moines for dinner. Matt’s in the driver’s seat and I don’t ask. For a brief moment, I think we might go to a certain place we’ve been before. We go somewhere else. (Cheddar’s in Clive.)

I share the drama of the day with Matt. Shortly thereafter, I notice my cup has a lipstick stain on it. I graze it with my thumb, to see if it’s just caked on. It smears immediately. I didn’t want more confrontation, so I thought about ignoring it.

A few minutes later, the manager leaves my table. The now-free lemonade was replaced (waiter: “I double-checked this glass!”) and Matt and I got free cheesecake.

Back at the apartment, I look forward to watching a Seinfeld re-run and just relaxing. After checking my e-mail, I realize I forgot something. My 521 professor: “several students apparently misunderstood that Quiz # 1 would go off line [from WebCT] at 1:00 a.m. [i.e., 21 hours ago] … I have decided to extend the deadline for taking the quiz until 9:00 a.m. tomorrow October 29th.”

Just one more damn thing to do…

No sooner had Jesse and I entered the Hull Avenue Dive Bar (er, Tavern) in Des Moines then a very large woman (for whom the term “fat chick” was undoubtedly coined) was at my side.

Her banter was less than original (“How tall are you?”) but she made up for it with a drunken intensity. She told me she was 30, had 2 kids, and never got out but tonight she had a sitter at her place, which was just a little bit up the road. I quickly became aware that her body was pressing against mine over a massive surface area.

Looking down to see how I might escape the encroaching blob, I noticed her shirt had a large circular stain on her right breast. “Beer,” she said. I couldn’t think of anything to say, so I went with: “That’s a waste of good beer.” She stared at me in a way that conveyed I had spoken words of such imponderable importance that even devoting that tiny bit of brainpower necessary to blink was an insult to my wisdom.

Then she told me I didn’t know sex until I’d had it with an older woman.

Ewwwwwww.

Fortunately, it was just after this that Debbie decided to make her entrance. With a quick “excusemegottago” to Tons of Fun, I dashed over to Debbie, whispered “work with me here” and then planted a big kiss on her cheek and gave her a hug. “Honey,” I said, “so glad you’re here!” To her credit, she was the consummate pro, kissing my own cheek and saying “I missed you.”

Bless her.

Thus far, the experiment with an unlisted number has been a qualified success. Other than the fact that my parents have given it out to anyone who asked, I’ve only gotten calls from people that I would like to speak with.

That is, of the people who are actually dialing me. I’ve gotten more than a few for other people. As in:

– I: “Hello?”
– He: “Hi.”
– “Who’s this?”
– “I’m Dan’s gay lover.”
– “OK.”
– “Where’s Dan?”
– “He’s not here.”
– “Why are you answering his cell phone?”
– “This isn’t his cell phone.”
– “Oh. Did I get the number wrong?”
– “Probably.”
– “OK. Well ignore the gay lover thing cuz it’s a secret.”
– “OK. Good luck with that.”
– “Thanks. Bye.”

OK, it was probably bad enough that I started this journal-y thing with a pat on the back for porn at Parks. Now I’ll just finish the job.

After re-reading that first entry, I searched for the book in Amazon (and noticed it has a different cover in their version.) Then I started to trawl through the “you’ll also like” links Amazon provided.

I paused at Exposed because I noticed Amazon’s “Look Inside” feature was available.

I zipped through the 13 pages at speed. I saw no need to pause, as the photos were a bit blah (though nice abs on the page 8 guy.) Then I hit page 12. Now that’s unusual, I thought. Taking the time to make a “not available” graphic? What’s the deal?

I backed up a page and read the last few sentences:

He could be said to be pissing on convention, as represented by the crisp white sheets, but significantly he is also pissing on himself. [emphasis added]

Aha. I think we have an explanation. (Who says there are no taboos left?)

But seriously, it leads me to wonder: how the hell does Amazon get these images? I assume it’s an automated system of acquisition, but what are the criteria for page selection (or rejection)? Did the piss page make the cut and get pulled after a complaint? And for that matter, which books get selected for ‘Look Inside’?

(I’m tempted to ask one of the Marketplace sellers to scan the page and send it to Amazon with a nice “here’s the page you needed!” note. Nah, that’s just too twisted.)