At its best, engineering work is creative and satisfying. But that which has the power to satisfy has the power to agonize in equal measure. Pushing the limits of what I know how to do is more exciting, more interesting, more satisfying--and potentially more horrifying. There's a special flavor of terror and despair associated with not being sure how (or whether) I'm going to solve an engineering problem.
To take this out of the realm of abstraction: a few months ago, I quit a job I'd had for years and took on a big new project. In many ways, I have what I want: an interesting problem, the freedom to solve it any way I see fit, and (if I do well) a ticket out of ever having to work for someone else again. But the terror phase of this project is in full swing. With HIV starting to get the best of me after 17 years of being infected, I often wonder how much sense it makes to do something this demanding. But a special opportunity presented itself a few months ago, and I couldn't see not taking it. Interesting times here.
Big storm passing through the area. About 7" of snow so far and still pouring it on.
A coyote woke me up at 6:52 this morning.
Saturday 12.25.04
The sky opposite the setting sun takes on amazingly pure colors here. I stop what I'm doing, I just stand and take in the view of the mountains to the east and the blue-fading-to-peach sky.
I used to miss having someone around at such moments. I'd feel the typical human urge to be sharing the experience with someone, preferably someone I liked. I'd feel frustrated when I couldn't call the sunset to someone else's attention. It occurred to me today that I don't feel that so much any more.
That's not to say that I don't appreciate being with people any more. Of course I do. It's just that I have largely made peace with doing things on my own, which is part of what I set out to do by living here.
Sharing experiences with others can be a fine thing; it can also be a habit, and by habit I mean a type of not-especially-conscious behavior. I have set out to live more deliberately, to not run on automatic so much. (I have a long way to go.)
The sharing of an experience has a different quality depending on whether it's done thoughtfully or whether it's done out of mere habit or urge.
Wednesday 12.22.04
I got satellite Internet service last week. By federal law, equipment that transmits to a satellite must be installed by a trained technician.
In my case, the trained technician took about an hour to point the dish at the satellite (because he didn't read the elevation scale correctly). He lost some of the mounting hardware; I got some out of my junk box. I lent him three tools that he didn't bring (or that he did bring and didn't work).
Good thing they only let trained professionals aim the dish.
In case you're wondering: I have satellite service because DSL or cable modem doesn't exist in my neighborhood, and I am too busy with other stuff to get into the ISP business myself.
Tuesday 12.21.04
Consider two vectors,
both with origins at the earth's center of gravity;
one pointing toward the north pole,
one pointing toward the sun's center of gravity.
When the angle between the two vectors is 90°,
we have an equinox;
when the angle attains a min or max (approx. 90±23.5°),
we have a solstice.
Most of us have a fair intuitive understanding of the solstices being extremes and thus turning points. You don't need a rigorous definition like the one I gave above. But in light of (pun intended) how big a deal the winter solstice (or some nearby date) is in most cultures, isn't it nice to understand just what a solstice is?
Wednesday 12.15.04
Don't freeze potatoes.
And if you do make the mistake of freezing potatoes, don't leave them out to defrost on a surface that you don't want to get potato goo all over.
Saturday 12.11.04
YAJEAAD (yet another journal entry about a dream)
I've had a lot of vivid dreams lately. Some are fun, some are allegorical, some are disturbing. Last night's dream was a bit of all three; it went like this--
I've bought a new house. I did this without knowing much about it; only now that I own it do I look through it and find out that it has a basement and a garage. It's a big house, bigger than I need (or want). The previous residents haven't moved out yet, all their furniture is there. At first I thought no one was home, but in the last rooms I look at there's an infant and a tiny dog. Both speak English.
The residents come home; I introduce myself as the new owner. Oh, hi, they say, and make themselves at home. In addition to the aforementioned infant, there's mom + dad and two teenage boys (one вкусный, one so-so). I'm wondering when they're gonna move out, now that I own the place. I think it's rude that they're still there; the mom agrees, saying "it's not fair."
The kitchen sink is full of dishes immersed in icky water.
The flooring in one room is oak (long pieces, no knots). The house has a metal roof. Other nice materials are in evidence, but I keep wondering what the point was in ditching my old house for this one. I think about moving the 650 sign from my old place (as if the new house had the same street address).
There's a lawn. I'm bummed. My old house didn't have one, and I don't wanna be mowing a lawn every week (not to mention that it's silly to have lawns in the desert). I wonder if I can make a deal with the neighbors to the north, maybe they'll cut it along with their own lawn. Then I talk about taking the lawn out and turning it into a xeriscape. A guy I'm talking to doesn't know what that word means.
Now, the (real life) context of this dream: I just got a big new computer. Unlike the house in the dream, I do need and want it. Unlike the house, it doesn't have a dog or dirty dishes. But I bought the computer by mail order, sight unseen.
Why do I write these journal entries about dreams, anyway. Why do I want to bare my subconscious.
Anyhow. A few choice phrasings from materials that came with the new computer's case:
Assemble the screws on the hard disk stiffly.
Power supply fan inhales cold air from the bottom, and dissipating from rear
After much computer assembling and configuring, I was ready to get out of the house today. A friend and I drove to the Panamint Valley this afternoon:
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photo by J D Bear
Sunday 12.05.04
BBC World Service is currently featuring a series of radio programmes about deserts, including a segment (streamed audio, 23 minutes) about the valley I live in.
Saturday 12.04.04
I haven't heard much news about Amr Mohsen recently; I don't know when his trial will be. But for those readers who are following his case, I can recommend a recent article about the potential ethical questions associated with being the lawyer of a not-so-honest client.
update: more about Amr Mohsen's case here.
Speaking of law--I heard this exchange in a courtroom recently:
| judge: | Do you want a divorce right away? |
| petitioner: | Yes. |
| judge: | How right away do you want it? |
Thursday 12.02.04
From a recent bank account statement:
The bank thinks POS means point of sale; someone needs to tell them that "POS purchase" reads like a commentary on what the customer bought, what with POS being a colloquial acronym for piece of shit.
Wednesday 12.01.04
So. My friend whose first trial last month ended in a hung jury was scheduled to be tried again this week. I was expecting to be called to testify; last week, a deputy brought me this:
But there was no trial. The defendant changed his mind and took a plea bargain.
Many second trials lead to convictions; after a first trial, the prosecution has an idea what kind of defense to expect. Had this week's trial gone on, I could have been called to rebut my friend's testimony--not something I was looking forward to doing. I am glad I didn't have to appear, but I am sad about how the case turned out.
My friend made some mistakes. I don't think they warrant the punishment he's facing. The circumstances surrounding his prosecution are a long, sad story that revealed a lot--not just about the defendant but about a bunch of other people as well. I don't want to go into the details here.
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