Why my co-workers think I'm 'special'

Ever have a moment where you read over what you've just written and realize why your co-workers think you're a little touched in the head?  I just did:

This coder is new to me.  This means I can't vouch for his development style.  I have no idea if he uploads barely-finished dev versions expecting the userbase to do major crash-testing, or if he is cautious and only makes code available right before a stable release, expecting only minor tweaks from the userbase.  3.x could be barely usable or it could be almost finished.  Dunno.

Later on...

Rushdie quotations

I've been wrapped up in Salman Rushdie's The Ground Beneath Her Feet for a few days now. I realized I was on to something unusual when I started flagging passages every few pages.

Comments from the narrator so far:

Love and freedom

But love is what we want, not freedom. Who then is the unluckier man? The beloved, who is given his heart's desire and must for ever after fear its loss, or the free man, with his unlooked-for liberty, naked and alone between the captive armies of the earth? (p. 53)

piecemeals and slapdashes

I think this process will get easier as time goes on. Right now, it's still nowhere near that. Of all the conversations I've had in the past month, the one I've referred back to the most in my mind has been Karen's. She mentioned something that no one else brought up, something that has been truer than I expected at the time. The decision to go requires a mourning period. You're either going to do it after you've left, when the newness hits you all at once, or you're going to do it before you leave.


Amy: "You're such a cliché, Charles."
Sherry: "Yeah! There you are, with your Admiral Ackbar profile photo, sucking down your Mountain Dew while eating your chili cheese Fritos."
Amy: "..and are those Converse you're wearing?"
Charles: "Yeah, but they aren't Chuck Taylors, so it's not totally bad."

wandering soul

I suited up early this morning, intending to be out the door well before 7. I know that my daytime minutes start at seven a.m., and that any call that starts prior to 7:00 gets entirely counted under night and weekend minutes.

Jody lives in Atlanta, and works the overnight shift. I don't call him as often as I should, but the timing of our lives means that he is finishing up his day as I am readying to start mine. I take a perverse delight in making sure my calls to him start just a couple of minutes before 7, with earpiece tucked securely in my left ear as I drive.

Dear reader...

In lieu of the entry I'm actually taking time to write and edit and revise and actually think about, I present linkfood.

'In Teh Beginning' (lolcats meets inexplicable meets ... uh, you'll see)

From Colter: 'How To Get Your Love On' on relationships: