Older blog entries for phil (starting at number 19)

Ryan seems to think that I am a low-watt bulb. I cooked my first meal in my new apartment last night too. I guess the race is on to see who can get real furniture first.

Two of my hard disks died during the move, sigh. I did have an extra IBM 16G, but I had hoped to use that for XFS hacking until the hardware arrives from Minneapolis. Oh well. Lame.

Now I'm going to listen to the soundtrack of the musical where our founding fathers sing and dance, while I try to reassemble the sad pieces of what was once equipment fit for computing.

Finally back in Ottawa, and recovering from another one of His infamous visits. Luckily, this one scored a big zero on the heavy drinking scale, just a lot of good food (and a museum, who'd have guessed?)

I noticed a sign just a couple of blocks away from my apartment that makes me believe that our travel agent has moved from California. It reads "Far Horrors: Experts in Creative Travel"

Another airport, another surreal experience. In Minneapolis, all Air Canada operations are handled by their Star Alliance partner United. I stepped up to the counter, gave them my passport, and mentioned that I'd really really like to be on the 0600 flight to Chicago.

<Agent> 6 AM? Are you sure?
<Me> Yes.
<Agent> Sure?
<Me> Yes.
<Agent> Do you have a printed itinerary?
<Me> No, I changed my ticket yesterday.

Ah-ha. You could almost see the gears turning in his head. "He's going to look up my original record," I thought to myself, "find my information, and send me happily on my way."

<Agent> Hmm. I don't see anything with your name at all.

At my insistence, he called Air Canada's operations to see what exactly was going on. I only got to hear one side of the conversation, and it wasn't terribly encouraging.

<Agent> No. No. No, he's standing right here.
<Agent> No, I'm looking right at his luggage, it has an Ottawa to Minneapolis baggage tag on it!
<Agent> Yes, he's here in Minneapolis, and he says that he's supposed to be on the 6 AM flight to Chicago, connecting to Ottawa at 9:15.

To make a long story slightly less long, the man who changed my ticket had keyed in "MSY" instead of "MSP". Therefore, everyone (with the exception of the man actually in front of me) thought that I was in New Orleans.

This situation was repeated, almost verbatim, in Chicago when I went to pick up my second boarding pass. This time, the computer insisted that I was in Toronto (as my original itinerary was MSP->YYZ->YOW), and even the woman at the counter was a bit skeptical that I was standing in front of her. Finally, after much chatter and two more phone calls, she decided that I really was in Chicago, and I really did deserve to be back in Ottawa.

Raise your hand if you'll be attempting air travel anytime soon.

The aforementioned shit-flinging monkeys (see Ryan) managed to delay fixing my travel long enough that the seats disappeared. I get to fly home at 0600 tomorrow. I am booking my own travel from now on.

I sorta neglected to make my lease payment (oops) before I went away. I hope my keys still work.

On the XFS front, I've checked in code to make separate log devices work on Linux. Now I'm busy chasing after some 64-bit-unclean code that's breaking files larger than 4 gig, while trying to find the source of some mysterious leaking inodes. It smells very much like a race condition in unmount.

I've been really busy doing Cool Stuff with mkp in Minneapolis for the last week. More on this later.

I miss the whole gang. T-5 days until my return.

I just want to mention how awesome my shower is. It doesn't look like much at first glance, I'll admit; then again, there's no accompanying documentation mentioning that it is directly connected to a fire hydrant.

Not working was a good thing. mkp and I have a long journey ahead.

I don't think Mike was talking about Torment when he said "the career you save could be your own," but he easily could have been. Yes, I've gotten out of the mortuary. No, I've not done anything else this weekend.

As much as I love other people's children, I didn't really feel up to Montreal this weekend either. Instead, I went to Ikea and bought a futon and a bookshelf, thus making this my first night in my new apartment.

God, is it ever fucking cool.

Nice hardwood, more room than I realized (two bedrooms, two common rooms, who'd have guessed?), and yet with enough deficiencies to still make it humbling. The Elgin Street Diner is right out my front window, and n pubs and clubs are within two blocks. My liver may just never recover.

I'm with dria, I want to do as few work-related things as possible this weekend. I'm about to start a long term work project, and I need to concentrate on making my ulcer stop forming. I think that Planescape: Torment is an excellent example of such a diversion.

I'm not hungover, but by all reason and logic I should be, so I still blame shaver. I'm pretty stunned that he managed to get out of bed and to the airport in a bounded amount of time.

Cheers from the San Francisco International Airport.

For some reason, I get the best cab drivers:

him: So, where ya goin'?
me: Ottawa
him: Oh, you know, I've been to Vancouver.
me: Uh-huh
him: They have a lot of vinyl siding places up there, huh?

Yeah, Canada. the land of vinyl siding and bananas.

him: What time's your flight?
me: Ten 'til eleven.
him: So you work for Oracle, I guess?

At that point I gave up trying to predict what he was going to say next.

Sometimes (ok, maybe more often than not) I really hate California.

I finished dinner around 19:40 (at Maki, on Balboa near 37th in West SF). It took me a full 4 hours and 5 minutes to get to my hotel in San Mateo.

Unacceptable

For those of you who might ever conceivably eat at Maki, I give it a D+ for presentation, and an A for freshness. The rolls were all but impossible to eat, as they kept falling apart, but I ate what was probably the best tako that I've ever had. I'm almost willing to make another trip just for that.

While I waited for a taxi (that never came), hiding under an awning to escape the rain, three guys shuffled up in their plastic rain gear and baggy jeans.

"Um, sir, uh, do you think you could please buy us four Old English 40s?"

This, to a guy who sometimes gets carded in Canada. They must have been really desperate.