Home Sweet Home

We’ve moved in. Thanks to the immense amount of free labor from our parents, we’ve also made most of the major adjustments needed for normal plus living. We put in a dishwasher, took out the fireplace and put a vent in the roof, patched the ceiling, put in a disposal ($5 at the rebuilding center), hung blinds and lots of misc. stuff. Things look great, feel great, and aside from the boring insects in the apple tree, we don’t have that much to do this summer. The animals have adjusted well, Tigger better than Barley, but the dog on hardwood floors is kind of funny.

So tonight we walked to our neighborhood video rental and now we’re watching Money Pit. Knock on wood. More to come. I’m kind of tired.

Temporary Hosting

My brother-in-law has been kind enough to host my site during our move. Everything seems to be working normally, but go easy on the site and don’t waste his bandwidth.

Actually, it’s all part of a ploy to get him to use macs. First step – have him use linux and enjoy the flexibility but loath the interface inconsistencies and the broken packages. Step two – sneak a mac into his home under the guise of “hosting it temporarily.” Step three – suggest he give that 400MHz g3 a spin. He’ll be hooked in no time. No 4.2 GHz P4 with a gig of ram can compare to the spectre of a 7 year old mac.


I heard a story about a couple that went to see the Audioslave concert here in Portland the night after the actual show. The guy taking the tickets was incredulous.

A Carnivore-like filtering system for forwarded e-mail

A forwarded e-mail that Michelle received this morning required a fact check. Most forwarded messages do. It has become standard practice for many of us to automatically open myth debunking websites like Snopes.com when we see FW: in the subject line of an e-mail. Not that we need to check the veracity of these claims, but that we need to have a response to reply to the sender to inform them about the flaw in the message.

I’ve decided that it is time to create a carnivore-like e-mail filtering system based on urban myths and scams that will automatically and permanently deletes chain letters. Snopes.com already has a tremendous database of junk subjects. All we need is a convincing argument that these forwarded messages are a threat to homeland security and poof! we can get funding for such a system. Maybe we can even have the authors of such offending chain mails unlawfully detained.

But I don’t want to choose

One of the most difficult things about buying a house in Portland is that you have to actually choose a neighborhood. There are so many cool little niches around the city that it is impossible to choose the one and only place that is perfect for you. I harbor some resent for having to choose a place. At least it’s still easy to get around to the others.

The other difficulty is leaving our current neighborhood. I joke about southwest being a cultural void, but I love it out here. I’m close to work, family, parks, Hillsdale, Multnomah Village, and downtown. I’m really going to miss driving into downtown on Barbur blvd. and seeing Mt. Hood and St. Helens above the city as it sits on the river and sprawls out to the east. Driving home is just as cool though because you look into your rear-view mirror and get not only the cars behind you but often a few skyscrapers and the low slope of a snowy mountain. It’s really gorgeous, and a quick and easy journey.

Still, we can’t really walk to anything worth walking to. A methodist church, the Castle Superstore, Blockbuster, and a liquor store. I’ll miss Barbur World Foods though; it’s going through a fascinating renovation. I’m also going to miss the birds, the neighbors (some of them), and Barley and my excellent walking routes.

Anyway, time to stop opining and stark opacking.

Humorless Phlebotomist

When giving blood this morning, my phlebotomist was all business. No jokes, no side conversations, and no doddling. I suppose I appreciate it, but working with people that can work and joke at the same time is much more pleasant. Sure, she was efficient, but where’s the fun?

Needless to say, I bled quickly and got out of there. My attendant’s sense of urgency wore of on me. Well, sort of. After I finished my fresh donuts. I give blood on Thursday mornings because that’s when they have donuts.