Adventures across Canada, the US, Mexico, the UK and Australia
Three hours of Hardcore and Happy Hardcore. I’m a bit sore.
The following did not happen:
It was more like:
Then I jogged home, 1/2 an hour, through the snow storm we had going on. Now? Comfortably recovering in my bath robe, drinking some tea (mint and other non-caffeinated stuff) to rehydrate, thinking “Life, pretty good.” Oh, and “ow, my feet and hip.”
Since I’m now paying attention to this site again, I upgraded WordPress. Again. 2.7 this time, introducing a completely new UI on the management side of things. At least, it feels completely different, mainly because the default menu, instead of being along the top, has been moved to the left.
Consistency?
But whatever. I wasn’t all that strongly attached to the way things were done in the first place, so the changes won’t take too long to become accustomed to. Plus I’m finding things a little bit more easily.
I think.
Tonight is a clear skies night so the temperature drops. And I can see the moon. I like the moon. I hear that it may be a part of the earth, torn from the molten ball of pre-crusted Terra by a runaway nuclear reaction. Mebbe that’s why so many love songs are written involving the moon - a subconscious recognition of the heart wrenching, traumatic separation.
But then, love isn’t always about separation. Passion isn’t always misdirected. And when it comes down to it, you only need to make good on one of the chances that come along.
Grocery shopping today, thinking about Terry Pratchett and his most recent offering, “Making Money”. Specifically a section that discussions the conversion of a series of parallel queues into a single queue with multiple tellers sharking from the endpoint. Not that he uses those terms, and not that sharking has a strong definition for my use of it. Regardless - in this case “sharking” indicates “grabbing the next available work item as soon as the previous work item has been completed, without coordinating with other peers”.
Lets call the two queuing systems “parallel” and “sharked”, ’cause I like those terms.
The advantages of a sharked queue mainly center around the fact that any queuee requiring extra time for processing does not block all following queuees. But does this result in an overall lower queue time for all queuees? I’d instinctively say that the overall average queue time would remain identical, but that the standard deviation would be reduced. This is borne out through anecdotal evidence - in queues where there is a benefit to consistency, like Canadian customs and line ups for fast food, sharked queues have been the norm.
The advantages to parallel queues may be less obvious. Parallel queues are a relatively “natural” development, and therefore do not require real estate to be dedicated to queue organization. This can be a significant benefit. Parallel queues also look smaller, thereby potentially reducing the psychological barrier to joining the queue.
3 1/2 hours to get from work to the airport. Missed my flight, but am on a later one that isn’t so circuitous. Still have myself booked on a third leg that I’m going to miss, but have confirmed that I’ll be on, so that I can get bumped to a later flight. At least that’s how I understand the plan.
Don’t know what I’m supposed to be wearing at the wedding - or actually where it’s supposed to be. But I’m able to be in Pittsburgh now, and have a place to stay, so it’s all good.
Excited about being in the air again, feel like the continent is compressed. Accessible - more so that it ever has been. I expect that this will reverse itself over the next few years.
In the mean time, the site Farecast.com has been very handy. And I’ve got a local playing a ukulele and singing. It’s great, something you very rarely see in an airport.
Shortly I’ll be seeing my dad again, haven’t seen him in a few months. Also I have houseguests coming, when I get back. No rest for the wicked!
Finally proper rain, coming down in torrents, the sides of the roads are streams and puddles that’d go halfway to my knee if I weren’t careful. The umbrellas are our in force, an almost uniform black, ‘cept for one woman who’s flowery parapluie looks as classy as a parasol, and matches her outfit to boot.
This type of rain reminds my of the first visit to Brisbane, meeting up with Aimee and Daisy and watching the world get washed away from the comfort of a tiny hostel. Although I’m told not to expect the thunder and lightning, here.
It’s been a while but that was the crux of it - that month and a half of uncertainty, of instability and unexpectedness, of sleeping in parking lots, of things left unsaid, of dealing with the moment so far away, those were the last days of my travelling. Those were the last days I was living without the expectations of others on me.
Not to say it won’t happen again. It very possibly will. However, as long as everything goes well, it won’t be until after my 30th birthday. And between then and now, who knows!
Work goes well. The cult of personality persists. There’s always much to do, often just a bit too much. I could keep my head down and not get overloaded, but where would the fun be in that? I have valuable contributions that I can make, I might as well make them.
Oh, and then there’s NaNoWriMo, I can still register, although I haven’t started. Need to check to see if autobiography is permitted.
Travelled around 8,000 kilometers (round trip) this past weekend, up to Whitecourt, Alberta and back. All told 33 hours of transit - including sleeping the night at the Edmonton International Airport (my story not yet posted). I got to spend 48 hours in Whitecourt itself, and spent time with my girlfriend, figuring out where she is, where I am, and some of those things that come to the forefront when you’re living 4,000 kilometers apart in very different worlds, with large-scale changes impending.
Continue reading ‘Operation X’
James Taylor puts it well right now. He’s where I can see getting - or actually feel at the moment. Maybe I slept through a phone call last night, maybe I wasn’t called, but it feels like years that I’ve been waiting, and maybe she’s gone.
A number of years ago, one of my friends asked me: What is your perfect woman? The timing was right, and the response came to mind last night.
Continue reading ‘What I Want’
What a difference a day makes. And not always a good difference. 48 hours ago I was going to bed under the stars, looking at the milky way and reflecting on how everything was falling into place. 24 hours ago I was going to bed with my emotional world in shambles. And now I’m going to bed, not sure if I’ve missed my chance to recover and repair.
Continue reading ‘24 hours’