Yes, I just completed the solo guitar tour on Rock Band, and even though I was only playing on medium, it feels pretty freaking awesome. My wife (goddess!) sprung for an Xbox 360, and my mother-in-law (what a sweetie) sent me Rock Band, and I’ve basically been playing three hours a night since the goodies arrived.

We had a bunch of folks over Saturday evening to rock out, and lo, the rock was out in force. A buddy of mine gave me a drum throne to make the experience even better. Liz also scored some great wine to share with us (mmm, vintage Grand Cru Champagne….) and cooked an amazing meal (mmm, beef tenderloin; mmm, Guinness chocolate cake) that all enjoyed. Meanwhile, our daughter (angel!) slept through it all (miracle!).

I’m looking forward to getting folks together again soon (regularly?), but for now, this little rock star needs his beauty sleep.

I’m thinking of moving our blogs to private hosting on WebFaction, partly because I like WordPress, and partly because the sale of LiveJournal to SUP makes me uneasy about paying LJ any more of my money. I’ve been hacking on a Python program to crawl my journal and re-emit it as a WordPress XML export file, suitable for slurping up into WP with just a few clicks, and it’s pretty much done. I just have a few decisions to make (should I keep userpics attached to all my exported entries?) and then I think it’ll be time to pull the trigger.

At work, we’ve wrapped up our first big run of cafeteria-free lunches (58 straight lunches, of which we had a repeat-free streak of 56 lunches before hitting some of our “greatest hits” before the end of the year). Naturally, we’re blogging it so that we remember where we’ve gone.

Claire continues to grow and change. Having just passed the 100-day mark, she can now sit in her Bumbo chair, enjoys standing practice, and is really excited about grabbing her toes. I continue to shoot and post tons of cute photos.

We’ve been doing weekly videoconferences with my parents instead of phone calls. They get to see Claire, and Claire gets to stare at my screen and be confused. Plus my parents get to be the envy of all other long-distance grandparents that they know, who are in awe of their “technical savvy.” So, kudos to iChat for making it stupidly easy.

I am in love with Rock Band and want to marry it. If that’s not possible, I’d settle for going over to my friend’s place to play it on a regular basis. (Turns out that after a couple beers, I am pretty decent on vocals–scary!)

Egad. I have almost 8 GB of music (over four days’ worth!) in my “new and unrated” playlist needing review. When am I going to have time for that?

Last night we watched Paprika, the latest film from anime director Satoshi Kon. I’m utterly blown away by it. The coolest thing I’ve seen in a long time. It’s a little bit Dreamscape, a little bit Ghost in the Shell. Good, good stuff.

Not sure if it’s the kid (probably) or what, but I’ve fallen off the deep end of the Christmas season and am starting to scare Liz with my sunny holiday cheer. Usually I’m pretty down on the consumerism and not too hip to whatever religiosity seeps through the month-long shopping orgy of December, but this year things are different. I’m giggling as I wrap presents for Liz and Claire, and–much to Liz’s annoyance–bouncing off the walls waiting for the big day to arrive. Is it Christmas yet? Is it Christmas yet? IS IT CHRISTMAS YET???

Speaking of Christmas, I’m happy that I managed to get the annual card produced and out the door relatively on-time. One of these years, I’m going to have inspiration and time in November so that I can get full-bleed, professional printing done, but I’ll take what little victories I can get. I may post the images or a PDF at some point if I get motivated enough. (Here’s your opportunity to convince me…)

Finally, if it’s at all possible, I’d like to be your personal penguin.

Okay, enough of this foolishness. Time to go be Dad for awhile. Cheers!

I’ve uploaded the photos from our trip to New York. After my day of hacking in the hotel (during which we had a great rain storm), I met up with Liz and two of her classmates after their exam for beer and munchies at Luna Park. It was humid as hell, but I had the best grilled cheese sandwich ever, and discovered that, for being somewhat mass-market, Stella Artois is an acceptable beer. Sadly, our delivery Chinese experience later than night was pretty poor (after waiting two and a half hours, they delivered it to the wrong location), and the Cavs just couldn’t manage to get any traction against the spurs, so the late evening kind of fell apart.

The next day we went to Bliss for massages (nice) and then bopped up to the Fifth Avenue Apple Store, mostly so I could take pictures. We wandered a bit at FAO Schwartz, where we encountered some awesome LEGO sculptures. After lunch at BLT Steak (too expensive, but delicious), I got all spontaneous and we took a carriage ride through part of Central Park. A pre-dinner visit to Vino (an awesome Italian wine shop) resulted in a fun conversation and a few more bottles to add to the cellar. Unfortunately, our meal at I Trulli was fairly uneven: while all of Liz’s dishes were pretty decent, two of mine (a duck prosciutto appetizer and Piedmontese hanger steak) were serious misfires, and I found myself reluctantly slipping into the feeling of being an “Iron Chef” judge on a bad day. The service and pacing weren’t jiving either. The wine, however, was quite nice–if only the rest of the experience had lived up to it! Alas.

My overall dissatisfaction with NYC was further reinforced by our discovery that, once you go through security at LaGuardia, you don’t have any meal options that include protein. If you happen to be traveling with a pregnant woman at lunch time, this is, politely, less than good. As an added bonus, the TSA folks gave Liz a bunch of crap about going through the security line a second time after leaving to get something edible. Luckily, the cats were happy to see us when we got home. And really, that’s what matters.

wolffire

gr0m1t

Today we have an appointment at Chateau Ste. Michelle and a bit of sightseeing planned, and then dinner at Beàto. In the morning, we head off to the other side of the state to start the wine visits in earnest. We’re very happy to have made a better rental car selection than on our Napa trip (do not drive a Ford Taurus on windy, windy roads, kids); the comfy seats should be a nice bonus as we drive all over creation this week.

More later — must eat breakfast and get going.

Gorgeous day yesterday, perfect for taking care of some last-minute errands and running down to West Point Market with Karla to pick up groceries for Liz’s birthday dinner.

Did some errands with Liz today (frame shop, Radio Shack, etc.), enjoyed helping set up her Tivoli iPod radio gizmo, played some Wii (the Rayman: Raving Rabbids game is quite recommended from our house), and did some maintenance on her laptop.

Bad news: my mother-in-law’s dog passed away this morning. He was a good friend, and will be missed.

Super-nummy birthday dinner for Liz tonight with Karla. We did a trio of cheeses–Ewephoria, Mimolette, and Brie–with provencale wafers, bosc pears, pink lady apples, and an olive medly and nicely matched to a cremant d’Loire; main course of prime rib (sooo pink and tender) matched with a roasted mix of carrots, parsnips, and potatoes, and perfectly paired with Katherine Kennedy Lateral (a luscious Bordeaux-style blend). Followed it all up with chocolate raspberry parfaits from Michael Angelo’s. Yummy!

We’ll spend the rest of the evening chilling out and enjoying some quiet time together, making plans for 2007 and getting ready for the adventures ahead.

Cheers!

• A couple of excellent feasts for Christmas Eve and Day. Liz really knows her way around the kitchen.
• Learned that Mom really likes white Burgundy. A lot.
• Lunch at Melt was a huge hit.
• My mother-in-law knitted me a Jayne hat!! It keeps my noggin surprisingly, delightfully warm.
• Liz and my parents and my mother-in-law and I pitched in on a shiny new Mac as a combination Christmas/birthday present. It’s job will be to help both my aging iMac and still-spry-but-time-consuming Linux box retire to gentler pastures. So far it’s doing this quite admirably.
• Liz surprised the hell out of me by hiding a Wii in one of the Mac boxes. The look on my face was apparently priceless.
• Liz kicks my butt at most of Wii Sports, but I can totally take my dad at Wii Baseball.

…

As a nice bonus, Webfaction rolled out WebDav support, so I can shift all of our iCal sharing off to that and have one less reason to keep a machine running all day here at home. Yay!

Sod off. We’ve quite enjoyed ignoring you this weekend.

Friday: Infinity, bubbles, cheese, and “Galactica”.

Saturday: Sleep, wine tasting, the tasting menu at Nemo.

Sunday: Stayed in bed all day, sleeping, watching movies, sleeping, catching up on Cerebus and Flight, leftover Indian food in our PJ’s, snuggling by the fire and listening to this week’s “Wait Wait Don’t Tell Me“.

Hardly glamorous, but perfect in its own way, and exactly what we needed.

Friday night we enjoyed a good wander around downtown Ann Arbor, discovered, to the peril of my credit cards, the Vault of Midnight, got a head start on our Christmas shopping, and met up with Kevin Dangoor and Mark Ramm at the Arbor Brewing Company, where a good time was had by all.

Saturday, after a spot of brunch and shopping (and discovering the hypnotic terror that is “Powerpuff Girls Z“), the main attraction began: a series of RSC shows featuring Patrick Stewart. First up was Julius Caesar, not featuring Patrick Stewart, but instead featuring buckets of blood, dogs of war, signs and portents, and all similar manner of treacherous goodness. We paused for a jaunt over to Vinology for dinner, followed by a quick bit of dessert at La Dolce Vita, then it was back to the theatre for Antony and Cleopatra, where I had a bit of a chuckle over Patrick Stewart’s wig–I don’t think I’ve ever seen him have that much hair before, unless you count the space-mullet he sported in Dune. This morning, we brunched again, then took in the third and final round, The Tempest, which had been done up as a rather cinematic affair in a barren land north of the Arctic circle, somewhere between King Kong and Neil Gaiman.

As expected, Patrick Stewart was thoroughly at home on the stage, and did not disappoint, in energy, in subtlety, in getting just the right nuance. And though he chewed a bit of scenery, he should be commended for making sure that his fellow players get chances to shine in their own right. We were especially impressed with Cleopatra, whose performance utterly defied words as it cascaded from girlish delight to bitter jealousy and rage, into despair, and finally, tragic, dignified resolve. Bravo!

And, just like that, the time has gone and now we’re home again, making preparations to do battle with the week ahead. Oh, yes, there are still tickets available for some shows, if you find yourself of a mind to go. Even if your seats aren’t the greatest, you won’t regret it.

Today’s victory: got the green light from The Powers That Be for the topic I was thinking of for a PyCon presentation. Now I just have to find the time to blast out the proposal and outline; this weekend looks like it might be a candidate. My original plan was to take care of all of that while out in California, but various crises kept me from submitting my idea to TPTB until just this week. I probably needed the complete vacation anyway.

Today’s comfort: just back from a wine dinner at Grady’s featuring wines from the Rousillon region. Liz (not my Liz, but the lady who runs the shop) amazed us with one perfect pairing after another. Hooray!

Work tells me that I get to fly to DC for a day next week. What exactly I’m along for isn’t terribly clear yet, and I unfortunately probably won’t be able to skip out for sushi at Kaz (*cry*), but it should add a little novelty to the week. The trick will be waking up early enough to catch a 7:30 AM flight–ugh!

We spent pretty much all day Tuesday at Tres Sabores, getting a tour by way of working for the winemaker, Julie Johnson. Liz and I punched down the caps on some 2006 Petite Syrah, took some samples of Zin grapes from the vineyard, and ran the samples over to a local lab for testing. After a lunch of burritos from La Luna (perfectly paired with Julie’s 2004 Zin), it was back to work again: Liz punched down, then went out into the vineyard with Julie to do some pre-harvest maintenance, while I repaired some dodgy splices in the wiring for the shop’s speakers and got the radio going again, all while standing on a series of ladders and entertaining a charming six-year-old girl whose father was up for the afternoon to work on his Cab. We’ve apparently been adopted by the various dogs and cats who romp about the grounds–two of the kittens even tried to sleep with us for a while last night. The sheep and guinea hens, however, remain a bit standoffish. Julie very generously treated us to dinner at the bar of a nearby restaurant, and then we slept the sleep of the righteously tired.

Today the weather is grey and misty. There is harvesting this morning (actually already completed) and preparations for crush are underway. Once that’s completed (or at least going) it’ll be time to hit the road and drive up north to Albion.

I have been fairly photo-crazy up here, so expect some updates once I get a chance to edit and see what came out well.

Once we got checked in and had real food (an adventure in itself, thank you hotel restaurant that can’t tell bratwurst from sauerbraten…at least you had free popcorn and tasty beer), we hopped the BART down to the Embarcadero and met up with my cousin Cole, an RA at Stanford who was up for the day to make sure his residents survived their scavenger hunt. We meandered around at the Ferry Building market, had a walk along the waterfront, watched a group of skaters making a video of themselves screwing up tricks in fairly spectacular fashion, and had a great time catching up.

When it was time to let Cole go to meet up with his Stanford crew, we walked up to the Metreon to chill out for a bit, visited the Apple store, and popped into the Container Store to kill some time. Then it was off to Tres Agaves, where, after having our table given away several times, we met up with fellow CWRU-escapee Andy Reitz for dinner.

Liz has spent today in class downstairs, while I’ve been largely comatose and drooling on myself throughout the day, which has been punctuated by strange visions on TV: Mike DeWine and Sherrod Brown on “Meet the Press,” Woz being interviewed, Scrabble finals on ESPN. Now that I’ve basically spent the entire day asleep in a hotel room, I’m starting to feel surprisingly human again. It’s a good feeling.

However, it sucks when it keeps you in the office until nine o’clock.

But, besides making an eminently reheatable pizza, my adorably wonderful wife bought mini oatmeal chocolate chip cookies, which were utterly transcendent and perfectly paired with the Left Hand Imperial Stout that I’d had waiting in the fridge for me. Hooray, cookies and beer, I earned you today!

So! Laura braved the increased airport security, water bottle fascism and all, and arrived last Friday. Liz picked her up, and after getting settled in at the house, took us all out to lunch at Phnom Penh; to my amazement, Laura loved her loath chha! That evening we hit our local Winking Lizard and then went out to Will Farrell NASCAR movie (hilarious, recommended), got ice cream on the way home, and stayed up far too late playing Munchkin. Saturday we caught up on “Monk” and “Psych”, then went out to friends’ for their Wild Game BBQ, where there was much delicious food, frosty beverage, and wacky croquet fun, then zipped down to Blossom to chill out under the stars and experience the Cleveland Orchestra playing the scores to Bugs Bunny cartoons (and incidentally seeing a lot of folks that we don’t always bump into). Sunday we had brunch downtown, spent a few hours at the science center (note to self: don’t try the “virtual hang-glider” right after eating…), tried to get Laura hooked on “Firefly”, and played a lot more Munchkin and Apples to Apples.

Laura was up and out the door early on Monday to get to her flight on time; by all accounts she made it back home safely. I’m still trying to wrap my head around her pronouncement that I’m “an awesome uncle,” but for the most part I guess that’s pretty cool. The entire experience has left me a lot more optimistic about the idea of being a parent, a mental paradigm shift that is simultaneously comforting and scary as hell.

Work is fairly unmentionable; I pulled a few 12-hour days last week, which I should probably stop doing if I’m going to be the only one (as usual) trying to put in the extra effort to keep the project on schedule. Hah. I am Jack’s insane work ethic.

Far more mentionable is the weekend that just whooshed by in a bizarre combination of gosh-that-went-too-fast and cheerful, languid laziness.

Friday started out with one of the few rare instances in which I am proven right, but I was unfortunately too right. I don’t know crap about cars, but I’ve listened to enough “Car Talk” to recognize the clicking sound that Liz’s car was making every time she turned left as her CV boot. I felt somewhat vindicated when the issue turned out, indeed, to be her driver’s-side CV boot, but as it happens I am karma’s bitch–she needed to get both of them replaced. Somehow the old “why buy one when you can have two for twice the price” philosophy doesn’t really feel so great in practice. Not the most auspicious start to the day, and it’d come at the end of a week far too long.

Liz quickly turned the tables on my week, though, starting with dinner at Nemo. We sat in the tiny little “Lover’s Lane” nook, an odd little space barely large enough for a two-top table, and strangely, delightfully echoey. We had a great conversation, luxuriated in the sensations of food and wine (my Sangiovese was utterly fabulous with rack of lamb and mushroom risotto), and enjoyed the tumult of rain, thunder, and lightning outside.

We spent Friday night, Saturday night, and half of Sunday parked in front of the TV, breezing efficiently through the final season of “Six Feet Under” on DVD, a sudden arrival on seven-day loan from the library. The season had some weak spots, but overall it was a fitting conclusion to a great show, and a nice farewell to characters that have managed to become like family. It’s definitely worth your time if you haven’t seen it; if you can put up with the ever-present background morbidity, it’s quite interesting, often hilarious, and surprisingly uplifting.

Much of Saturday managed to be simultaneously relaxing and off-kilter. Now, Liz and I had laid out a moderately elaborate plan for Saturday, consisting of all of our necessary and desired weekend errands in the proper order of timing and fuel economy, but the cats managed to completely throw it into disarray by nine o’clock in the morning as Julia came bounding up onto the bathroom counter, leaving a path of bloody pawprints in her wake. Realizing what was going on came in little quanta of sudden understanding: there is a cat here; there is something on the counter; the something on the counter is blood; the blood is from the cat; the cat is bleeding; oh crap oh crap the cat is bleeding all over; what has the cat done now? Liz was a shower and full set of clothes ahead of me, so after we corralled Julia in the bathroom to assess the damage and clean up her wounded paw, Liz and Julia zoomed off to the vet while I stayed behind to get dressed, look for more blood, and be someone for Valentine, the likely culprit, to howl confusedly at. Luckily, the bleeding–caused by a puncture wound to one of the pads on her left hind paw, either claw or fang–had stopped fairly quickly, and no stitches were required. The patient returned home promptly, along with a prescription for a week’s worth of liquid antibiotics. The details of administering liquid meds–specifically pink liquid–to a fussy cat are best left to the imagination, but suffice it to say that Liz is now down one white shirt, and we had to add a trip to the dry cleaner to our Saturday agenda.

But! Our bloody cat had the good taste to get hurt, get better, and get home in time to let us get to our 10:30 appointment to peruse tile flooring options for the laundry room (a moderately long story in its own right that I won’t get into here). From there, though, all of our errands seemed to start getting out of order, and the flow wasn’t working, which unfortunately makes me a tiny bit fussy, even though I got a bunch of CD’s from the library, got a haircut, and spent some nice time wandering around shops in Rocky River with Liz.

What really got to me was Liz’s suddenly-announced, last-minute need to be on a conference call at two PM, right in the middle of when we were supposed to be tasting wine and getting groceries. Which then got rescheduled to three, allowing us to stop by Grady’s to taste wine and nosh on little wine-friendly nibbles. But the vital trip to the grocery store had to be deferred. I sat upstairs and listened to music while Liz waited for her call. The cats hung out with me in the open window, relishing the fresh spring air and staring greedily at passing birds. When three o’clock came and went, I went downstairs to harass Liz about this call–shouldn’t she call in or something?–and, rebuffed, I retreated back to the office to sulk and ponder whether we’d ever attend to the rest of our errands while I listened to Jethro Tull and Peter Gabriel. Slowly, there came a deep rumble, as the biggest semi I’ve ever seen trundled cautiously around the corner. Great, I thought, who’s the asshole driving a giant truck through our neighborhood and ruining this perfect spring day? The truck pulled a little further around the corner, and I was able to see the Room and Board logo on the trailer. Liz and I had spent a day in downtown Chicago last winter trying to find a leather chair for me that was up to Baby Bear’s “just right” standards, and had after several hours succeeded in filing an excellent candidate away in my permanent wish list. Swell. Somebody’s getting awesome furniture and it’s not me. I’m never going to get my chair.

Right about then, a lot of things happened at once. First, the truck whuffed and sighed to a stop directly across from our driveway. Valentine and I shared a dumbstruck moment of incomprehension; according to Liz, the look on my face was priceless. Liz closed the office door to keep the cat contained. And then, to my complete and utter astonishment, the delivery guys started unloading my chair, while, by complete coincidence, the Peter Gabriel CD I’d picked up at the library blasted out “Shock the Monkey.”

After assessing that all was well and functional in the land of new things that recline, we did a quick furniture rearrangement in the living room, and since then I’ve been taking every opportunity available to test out my new manly man chair. I’ve covered one of the really long chapters of Head First Design Patterns; I’ve chilled with the iPod; I’ve enjoyed sitting by the open window with the cats; I’ve sipped wine and listened to Pink Floyd; I’ve passed out and drooled on myself; I’ve (now) blogged. So far, it has passed all of the important tests with flying colors. Well, almost all–the cats are still a bit scared of it, but I expect that with time they’ll show it the same indifference that they usually show me.

So, yes, Liz’s “conference call” was a lie, a ruse, a deception, a clever means to have me home so that she could see my reaction, and I completely, totally, thoroughly fell for it. In a way, that makes it all the sweeter. (Right?) In case I haven’t correctly sung the praises of Liz lately, let me declare here that I totally love my wife, that she knows exactly how to spoil me, and that she is damn good at being awesome. My silly manly man chair is beyond excellent, unneeded, and unexpected. Thanks, hon!

Other than that, life is quiet here; lots of work, lots of studying, and as much slacking and irresponsibility as we can get away with. Gotta keep things in perspective, after all.

Liz had to work for most of Saturday, so I used the time to knock a bunch of things off my to-do list, including a trip to the library to refresh my influx of new music, and a half-day of being able to work in peace in the office. Saturday night, she took me to Grovewood Tavern for dinner, which was utterly fabulous (I had the “Quackitori”, seared duck breast yakitori style, and I highly recommend it, especially paired with the Parallel 45 Cotes du Rhone). After dinner, we hit the Velvet Tango Room for post-dinner cocktails, where I was introduced to the shimmering delight that is the French 75. I totally dig VTR’s vibe, and I got an especially geeky thrill from recognizing Winchester ‘73 playing on the TV by the bar. VTR is a bit pricey, but the experience–especially on the weekend, where your lady friend gets a perfect rose–is worth it.

On Sunday I managed to get more stuff on my list done, and then we hit the local movie theatre for a matinee of Thank You For Smoking, a cheerfully subversive little movie that anyone with two brain cells and a sense of humor should see as soon as possible. Seriously–run, don’t walk; it’s that good. My only issue was with the quality of the audience, as we seemed to be seated directly in front of, next to, and behind people who insisted on sharing their running commentary, explaining jokes to each other, and so forth. Sorry, folks, but if I wanted the commentary track, I’d buy the DVD, and you wouldn’t be part of it. Though it was almost worth it to hear the person next to me try to explain a joke and then, verbally, loudly, not get it… (Seriously, she didn’t understand why it might be funny that the firearms lobbyist set off the metal detector at a security checkpoint. “Must be something metal,” my next-door Ebert observed.)

Monday marked a return to workplace madness, but it ended early as Liz and I had picked up tickets to see K.T. Tunstall at the House of Blues. It was a pretty much spur-of-the-moment decision a couple of weeks ago when I realized that she was in town. I admit, I’m a total poseur, and it took her solo appearance on NBC’s “Today” show for her to arrive on my musical radar… I wasn’t sure what to expect from seeing her live, but I figured I wouldn’t be disappointed, and the ticket price was pretty fair, so I figured there were worse ways to spend a Monday night. We had a nice dinner at the HOB (assisted in part by a small parade of happy-hour mixed drinks), and then proceeded to be completely blown away by her live performance. She’s touring with a band to back her up, which helps fill out her sound nicely, and there were particularly nice bits featuring various band members soloing on drums, keyboards, trumpet, guitars, and cello. Mellower tracks had a nice dash of psychadelia that reminded me of early Pink Floyd, while the more raucus, upbeat numbers struck me as the perfect soundtrack for blasting down a desert highway, windows down and stereo cranked. In short, even if she’s getting mainstream radio (and worse, grocery store!) airplay, K.T. is the real deal, and you should check her out, especially live. Seriously good times.

• Speaking in front of a huge crowd is a rush. It’s even better when they laugh at proper places (which they did). Proper preparation definitely pays (and paid) off!
• A two-man presentation is doable, but has some logistical difficulties. Next time, we should try to do separate one-man gigs. Time to start figuring out what to talk about!
• Never assume that just because the hotel offers wireless network access, it will be any good.
• Kid is all kinds of wacky inside. But it’s getting better.
• Recursive generator functions are fun!
• Speed tests are a great idea… except when they take too long to run.
• A head cold is a sneaky bugger. Bring tissues from your hotel room when you’re going to be sitting in the language creator’s keynote for 90 minutes, because otherwise your head will become an embarassing fountain of snot. (Whee, boogers everywhere!!)
• A whole lot of stuff seems funny after a couple rounds of sangria.
• It is possible to assassinate a vacuum. And to be 10,000 percent positive about it. Who knew?
  
• Hacking on IM chatter bots is fun too.
• The temperature at a conference is a fickle thing, capable of flip-flopping from ice planet to geek sauna and back again throughout the course of the day. When your mom said to dress in layers, she knew what she was talking about.
• “Those hacker people are scary.”
  
• They do, in fact, make cheese spicy enough to cure a head cold.
• The American Airlines fax-yourself-a-boarding-pass is a great idea, and could only be better if it actually printed the all-important bar code rather than the little red “x” of IE broken image sorrow.
• It is vitally important to run alsamixer and mute all your sound channels before sending a birthday e-card to your mom. You will not be able to click through before the flash loader starts making noise.
• NerdBooks.com is really cool, and potentially very dangerous.
• If you’re catering a convention of laptop-toting computer geeks, it’s probably a good idea to avoid serving things like soup and saucy pasta.
• “Healthier Burger” is pretty good, but it’s not $9 good.
• Don’t park your BMW under the trees in Addison. Just trust me.
  
• No matter how much my desk job might frustrate, at least I’m not pressure-washing the bird crap off of the parking lot every night at 1 AM.
• Last year I was always looking in from the outside at the little Cheerio-like clusters of people who already knew each other; this year I’m part of one. Acceptance rocks.
• Getting paid to have this much fun is damn nice.
• Beware inebriated Python programmers with overdeveloped senses of humor…

This would be where I offer some sort of deeply insightful conclusion that transforms the way you perceive the world around you and is a turning point in your journey toward greater enlightenment… But I’m too lazy, so you’ll just have to use your imagination.

On the work front: we weathered the storm with aplomb, our site never faltering under the onslaught of the greetings industry’s biggest day, while our competitors dropped like flies. W00t! A side benefit of today’s success is that David Stanek and I won’t look like idiots at PyCon next week when we promote the idea that Python plays nicely in the enterprise; the metaphorical egg is nowhere even close to our faces, and that’s a great feeling.

I wasn’t assigned to any particular monitoring shift today, so I had a few hours to tinker… and ended up cobbling together some Twisted magic to create an HTTP-to-AIM/IRC bot that would allow us to plug our monitoring scripts directly into our internal chatrooms. I had to fix a bug in Twisted’s Oscar library (for talking with AIM) in order to get it to work; hopefully the maintainer will accept my (very) simple patch. It’s working out well so far, so I think that as I get the chance, I’ll be cleaning it up and extending it to provide all kinds of other functionality for us. It should be pretty cool.

Meanwhile! Liz demonstrates her thorough and complete awesomeness yet again: first by dragging me to last night’s Spanish wine dinner at Mallorca, second by hooking me up with tasty Christmas ale and insanely good chocolates, third by picking up takeout dinner from Moosehead (mmm, wild buffalo rolls…), fourth for making sure I stay up to date on Dick Cheney’s Bogus Journey, and, above all else, for putting up with my deranged little self. This woman has the patience of a saint, not to mention smarts galore, and dare I say it–mad hotness!

Now the trick will be to get back into a normal rhythm after all the craziness…

Saw this at the grocery store today and had to document it for posterity: waffles you can connect like LEGO bricks! Truly, a concept both utterly brilliant and at the same time deeply frightening.

LEGO my Eggo!

Chunk Norris Facts will teach you all sorts of interesting things about Chuck Norris; for example, “the chief export of Chuck Norris is pain.” Not to be missed.

Learn all about sushi with the Sushi Eating HOWTO. (Kind of self-explanatory.)

Can’t get enough “Firefly?” I certainly can’t. Check out Escape Key’s “Mal’s Song”, an expanded version of the “Firefly” theme. It’s a bit filkier than my tastes usually run, but I’ve gotten it stuck in my head anyway. Plus, if you didn’t fill your belly with sushi (see above), you probably have room for a tasty Fruity Oaty Bar!

When you’re done watching the Fruity Oaty Bar video (and putting the MP3 on a loop for a few hours; don’t be embarrassed, it’s perfectly normal), some of you might be amused by IBM’s Linux cartoons. While I was entertained, my inner shareholder wonders how much they paid for those.

Transformer di Roboter present “Stranger in Moscow”, a musical gem that uses the Macintosh startup chord as its bassline. No, seriously!

Retrievr lets you search Flickr by sketching. It’s wickedly mind-blowing!

I hooked up my new keyboard (a Christmas present) today to see how effective I’d be at typing without any labels on any of the keys. It turns out, with the exception of well-formed (aka tricky) passwords, I’m quite good with it. I also really like how different regions of the keyboard have different resistance to touch, so your hands get a good feel for what keys are what as they are being struck. The only thing that kind of pisses me off is that the Scroll Lock and Caps Lock lights don’t seem to light at all (the Caps Lock would probably be helpful, don’t you think?), and the Num Lock light seems to be flaking out–typing causes this LED to flash and sometimes go completely dark. I guess I wouldn’t particularly miss these if they went away, but they are kind of annoying and really detract from the overall quality of the keyboard. Alas, I think my search for a new “perfect keyboard” must press any key to continue… (Time to find someone who makes a USB equivalent of the old Apple Saratoga keyboard.)

Finally, Minifesto is a cute tool for making animated icons out of your favorite snippet of text, suitable for generating excellent customized LiveJournal icons.