kris

A typical night

Blog Posted by kitt at 22:22 on 29 September 2005

"You know, people are going to read my blog and think the only thing we do is sit around and fart at each other."

"I know!"

Kris calls out to the world, "I QUIT!"

Blog Written with a loving hand by kitt some time around 21:47 on 29 September 2005

Well, if "the world" is defined as "Oracle" and "calls" is equivalent to telling his boss, then, sure, he did.

After 9 years (nine years. NINE YEARS!) at Oracle, Kris finally told them he was done. He finally let me push, prod, cajole, nag, encourage, insist and bully him into leaving the job that was slowly but surely sucking him dry.

And we don't like dry husbands. We like them lively.

Okay, Kris just read that and said, "Ooof."

To which I explain "sucking him dry" to mean "giving Kris a wonderful, dynamic, exciting, fulfilling means to satisfy his disc habits, where he is challenged in delightful and interesting ways on a daily basis."

Of course.

Seven years ago, I was complaining to him about how much I hated my job. In reality, at the time, I didn't hate my job, I hated the politics of the workplace of my job. The work was unbelievably exciting and interesting. The people I worked with were amazing, fantastic people.

The people above me, perhaps less so.

The culture of the company? Ick.

The pay? Pay? What pay?

So, Kris encouraged me to quit my job. He would take care of me while I worked on my own projects, found my own calling, became happy. We would move into an "affordable" apartment and live happily ever after.

Yeah, yeah, yeah. Didn't work out that way. I didn't really know how to properly quit a job that time. I didn't realize that keeping in touch with friends and ex-coworkers was vital to one's sanity.

Sure, with a little practice, though, I became much better at it (well, except leaving VA, but that was difficult for much different reasons), and began enjoying the time off between work engagements as a chance to relax and look around.

Kris has since allowed me that luxury twice again.

I took the opportunities gingerly, realizing that I was taking his turn. He seemed willing, if not also a little humoured, to let me quit (again!), so quit I did.

But now it's his turn.

Thank you, Kris, for finally taking that step. For leaving the comfortable world of guaranteed paychecks, underwater stock options, affordable health care, and cushy hours. Welcome to my world of uncertainty, change, excitement, adventure and expensive health insurance.

Thank you for finally realizing that the deleted projects were no longer interesting and that it was time to move on, time to see what else is out there.

Thank you for holding my hand and jumping.

You missed the last boom. It was quite the ride. Catch the front end of this one, love. It's going to be another fun ride.

You cannot fail. You have me. We're a team.

I love you.

Kris + bad mood = Kitt

Blog Yeah, kitt finished writing this at 22:15 on 3 September 2005

On the way home from Labor Day, I was driving along 17, stuck behind some car whose driver decided the best speed to drive was the exact speed the car next to him was driving. The driver was clearly not a 17 regular (not that I am, either, but I do know for the most part how to drive that road), as he kept braking in the turn, instead of before the curve and accelerating through the turn.

Kris heard various mumbles, "Move it!" "Come on! What the heck are you thinking, person?" "What are you doing braking now?" and other obvious frustrated mutterings.

At some point on the drive, the curves favored us, and the car in front of us was two and a half car lengths in front of the car in the lane to our right (on this two lane highway), allowing me to slot between the two cars and (shudder!) pass the speed-matching car in the right lane.

As I did so, Kris piped up, "You should pull in front of them, and brake."

Stunned, I replied, "That sounds like something I would say."

"I'm in a bad mood."

"The part of Kitt will be played by Kris in a bad mood today."

"Yeah, well..."

Couldn't be subtler!

Blog kitt decided around 11:20 on 28 August 2005 to publish this:

So, we're sitting in the living room this morning: Kris on the couch watching baseball (Oakland vs. Baltimore), I at the table programming.

At some point, I commented about something and turned to look at Kris as I spoke. He looked over a me with a funny look, then let one rip.

After a pause, I commented, "Subtle."

Cockroach effect

Blog Posted by kitt at 23:43 on 22 August 2005

Damn, I really need to upgrade. I need to tag for real. Bah. This weekend I'll be heading to the colo. Enough whining.

Of course, upgrading means I'll have to go through and retag all my posts. Sigh.

I read about a study done years ago with cockroaches and competitiveness. In the study, the speed of a single cockroach's walk from one end of a chute/corridor/walkway to the other. After the times were recorded, two cockroaches were placed in the chute and were again timed.

The second time the cockroaches were timed, they were much faster. The introduction of another caused both to speed up, presumably in competition.

The cockroach effect is very much a person effect, too. And not in just, say, sports. Cars driving on the freeway will speed up when another car is going to pass (on the right or the left, actually), people will move more quickly to reach a line more quickly than another person walking to the line, joggers will run faster if there's an audience, small things like that.

Tonight, in a true example of a cockroach effect, I ran the neighborhood loop in 19:31, including a stop for a twisted ankle and two slowdowns to figure out what was going on.

Of course, not dragging Annie the whole way might have helped my time.

Kris went for the run with me tonight, offering to drag, er, walk, er, trot Annie along the way. After about a quarter mile, he asked, "Is this your normal pace?" I hemmed and hawwed, then admitted, that no, he was being my cockroach, pushing me along faster.

Considering I ran the loop on today's snack of champions (two slices of butter pound cake) 6 minutes faster than just a week ago, I'm happy my fitness is coming back. The stretches and strength training are helping my legs considerably.

Look underneath, already

Blog Yeah, kitt finished writing this at 13:36 on 12 August 2005

On Wednesday night, Kris and I went with Heather, Megan, Megan, Heather's friend, Warren, Kate, Beth and Chris to see Wicked, the musical. The musical is based on the book Wicked, by Gregory Maguire, a copy of which has been sitting on my desk for, oh, several years now. The tragedy of that statement becomes apparent if you realize the book is actually a loaner from Kris' friend (and my ex-classmate) Eric Newman, who loaned Kris the book for me, and has since left Oracle and no longer works with Kris.

Must read loaner books faster.

Must read...

The show itself was entertaining. We had fairly good balcony seats (off to the left, but with few people in front of us) and the audience was amazing! Lots of young people, some children, mostly high school girls and college women out with their friends. For a Wednesday night, the place was packed. Well, for Friday night, it would have been, too.

Thankfully, Heather was wise and gave me an aisle seat (need to be first to the restrooms!), but I thought I would be wise and use the restroom before the performance.

Which brings me to this open letter.

Okay, ladies, listen up.

When you are in a public restroom, and you are waiting for a stall, if a line forms behind you, do us all a favor, will you?

Bend over or squat down, and look under the stalls.

Yes, you can do this.

No, we won't laugh.

As a matter of fact, our bladders will thank you. Especially if you find an empty stall (you know, the ones with no feet under them) and use it.

If you happen to be in a tight, gossamer dress that will split if you were to bend over to look under the stall, then for heaven's sake, ask the next woman to do it.

But use those empty stalls!

There were, once again, empty stalls because no one bothered to look under the doors to see if they were occupied. I don't get it. How freaking hard is it to look under the doors? Look, dammit, look!

On Wednesday, there were 3 empty stalls (of 12). When I realized there were three, I waited until there were two women in line in front of me (neither bothered to look), then went into one of the empty ones.

The other two can find their own empty stalls.

My bladder's full.