February 11, 2010

Processing.

I have spent the last hour or two downloading music and watching music videos of all time periods and a variety of genres. The trip around the virtual radio dial has been enjoyable tonight and has been a good little escape. My little projects around the house keep me sane and distract me from the stress of the workday.

I just tried to call it a night. I got into bed, kissed the husbear who was already walking through the dreamscape and then I laid down and stared at the ceiling. I tossed and turned a few times, counted a few dozen sheep and went through my other ritual of boring myself to sleep: counting the classrooms in my high school 25 years ago and remembering which teacher went where. (Yeah, I’m strange, I know.). I can’t fall asleep, though. My mind is processing the days events. I hear folks born around the same time as me do the same thing; they process things. They take an event, think upon it, turn it into an obsession and process it a little more. And then when a resolution is near, they process some more.

The funny thing is, my mind doesn’t want to shut down tonight because I feel good. I think I’m actually excited about going to work tomorrow. I can’t even begin to fathom why I feel this way (no offense to the company I work for); we’ll have half the staffing we’ve had throughout the rest of the week in the tech center and we have three times the number of trouble tickets we usually have. Only the universe knows what lies in the queue for tomorrow but I have to admit that I right now I really don’t mind what tomorrow entails.

Not to sound all corporate shilly and silly but I remarked today to one of my co-workers that the reason I get up and go to work in the morning is because of the people I work with. My co-workers are quite varied in skill set and personality and thankfully have gotten used to me but when things get tough we pull together and do what we can do to keep the chaos at a dull roar. That’s a good thing. Whilst getting through some technical troubles this week I’ve really discovered that my co-workers have my back and vice-versa. I don’t know why I’m having this surge of energy or sudden realisation of this at 11:30 on a Thursday night, and I’ll probably have to re-read this blog entry in the morning to remind me that I enjoy going to work (since I’m not a morning person) but I consider myself to be pretty lucky to work with the group of people that I work with. They’re good people.

With the constant cutting of costs and homogenization of job descriptions in a very diverse tech center, the stress level often runs high and tempers flare. What was once sweet tastes a little more bitter these days. I’m happy that I can sling back a few drinks with my co-workers after a hard day’s work and swallow that pill along with them.

Tomorrow is going to be a good day and that is because I said so.

Everything Changes.

Gearing up the mood for St. Valentines’ Day weekend, I thought I would share a song from my baby DJ days.

Yep, she’s sang backups with Taylor Dayne on “I’ll Be Your Shelter”; here’s “Everything Changes” by Kathy Troccoli from 1992.

Privacy.

As a person that lives his life relatively out loud via this blog and various social networking sites, one would think that I don’t really give two flips about my privacy. Those that know me in person probably know that what I share here is a good snapshot of how I am in real life, but not the complete picture of what exactly I’m about. Heck, I can probably count the number of people that _really_ get me on two hands. But nevertheless, I joined the whole social networking craze early on with this blog thingee here back in 2001 and I’ve been plugging along since.

Now I like the idea of social networking online; Earl and I have made many friends via the internet and cherish a few people that we have met here. The internet allows us the ability to see that we are not alone in how we feel on any given subject and that’s a great thing. I think it’s great when technology is used in this way, albeit as long as it’s in a cautious manner.

Yesterday the rapidly growing behemoth called Google announced a new product: Google Buzz. This is another attempt from Google to join into the social networking frenzy gripping the online world right. It’s like a combination of Facebook, Twitter and Foursquare integrated into their popular e-mail service, Gmail.

Now before I get a little ranty, I’m going to say a few preceding statements before the message. First of all, I know all too well that Google derives it’s income from ad revenue. Honestly, I hate that as I hate ads, no matter how coy they try to be. And while Google’s mission is to “not be evil”, they groom the data that they gather and tailor ads to specifically fit you. So they might not know the contents of my Gmail but they see particular phrases or keywords and select advertising to share with me based on this; for example if I receive an e-mail telling me how great Pepsi Throwback is, they might show me an ad telling me how great Coke Classic is.

Now Gmail offers some amazing spam protection and it’s web interface is clean enough and devoid of hiccups and burps enough to make it quite attractive, despite this scanning of key phrases to generate ad revenue. In fact, I have enjoyed Gmail’s service so much that I have funneled the dozen or so e-mail accounts I have into Gmail so I can have everything in an easily accessible place.

With the announcement of Google Buzz, this Facebook/Twitter/FourSquare wannabe, my social networking is now integrated into my e-mail. When Google Buzz was activated on my account yesterday afternoon, imagine my surprise when it suggested that I share my social networking status updates with folks that I have e-mailed back and forth about job opportunities with in the past. Yes, Google felt it would be great to include the folks that have my resume on my status updates, which contain such colorful nuggets as:

“When a bunch of iPad users get together, do their clock cycles synch?”

Lovely. Naturally, Google Buzz demands that I have a photo on my profile and it selected one of me. It’s not exactly a headshot but it’s one that I would consider kind of hot.

At least they have a respectable sense of good visuals.

Here’s the thing. My e-mail is sacred. I have had e-mail since 1984 and I’m not about to start sharing the contents of e-mail with an entire distribution list. Hell, that’s one thing that Earl learned very early on in our relationship that I tend to get hysterical about. My e-mail is *mine*. I don’t want it sliced, diced, spun or mutilated and I sure as hell don’t want it included in my social networking ventures.

So I turned off the Buzz as soon as I realised what it wanted to do.

Then I started getting paranoid. If Google was so hip on sharing my existence in this manner, where else would be information be turning up? So today I started filtering my e-mail elsewhere, dropped my Google Reader subscriptions (I do my blog reading in Safari again), dropped my contact list synchronization with Google and Gmail and now I’m looking for a respectable replacement for Google Calendar.

Tomorrow I order my new tinfoil hat.