Failure

I'm a big failure for a number of reasons:

(1) Complete failure to update my blog in over a month. I'd like to claim that it's because I've been on safari tracking wildebeest and whatnot, but the truth is I've failed to have any really cool stories or thoughts in that time. Yes, it's true. I'm generally a food-consuming, excretion-producing waste of space.

(2) I apparently put a footnote-style * in my last post, and then failed to footnote anything. Nice one.

(3) I failed to give credit to Em for introducing me to Faildogs, also in that last post.

For all of the above, I can only offer this as a consolation prize for my massive suckage:

The die rolls on

The founder of D&D, Gary Gygax, died yesterday. Never fear, though; his legacy will never die. Witness, for example, the Level 8 Ogre Mage seeking a partner on Craigslist.*

The whole ad is just rife with hilarity, so I'll let you enjoy it without commentary (and oh, the strength of will it's taking me to not comment!).

Also: faildogs, the canine response to LOLcats, apparently.

This corporation is brought to you by dreams and rainbows

Go here and read the first line, under "Administrative Concepts' Mission."

Oh, Administrative Concepts. You had such lofty beginnings. And now you're just another employee leasing specialist offering risk management and payroll services. How the mighty have fallen.

Discussion Questions:
(1) How would you build on a vision? Discuss construction materials and address possible weaknesses in the foundation.
(2) What do soaring eagles have to do with employee leasing specialists? For bonus points, include a diagram.
(3) What does Administrative Concepts mean to you?

Recent Events in my life, of middling to no interest

(1) Something that I said on the bus while talking to my brother about a video game, which in retrospect I realize made me sound like a crazy person and explains why everyone started staring at me: "Yeah, well just wait. Once you're out in space the military starts contacting you every two nanoseconds with some new emergency that only you can handle, like a biotic terrorist camp or a hostage situation or some rogue VI [virtual intelligence, for you non-nerds] that needs destroying."

(2) We really do have a full-on fridge thief. Last week he/she stole two full, unopened punnets of blueberries and a pint of yogurt. I'm serious. One day they were there, the next day... gone. I'm at a loss for how to proceed. When you make the kind of money that people in my industry make, and you work for an international company, in an office of over 200 people, who do you go to about your missing blueberries and yogurt?

(3) My fridge is broken, and has been for a week and a half now. There's some controversy about the warranty, I guess, which is part of the reason for the delay in fixing it. I'm honestly not that bothered, other than wondering how people stored food prior to fridges. Obviously they went grocery shopping everyday, and I think they generally had households large enough to finish the entire meal (i.e. less cooking for one). My officemate pointed out that they got food poisoning more often, too. Anyhow, I've been eating a lot of prepared salads for dinner as a result. Yum.

(4) Last night at a pub quiz, I was the only one in our group who figured out the answer to who created the periodic table: Mendeleev. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't riding on the high of remembering that for the rest of the night.

I feel the earth move under my feet

Earthquake! I have now survived my first London earthquake. I feel privileged to have experienced such a rare occurence; it's kind of like spotting a panda in the wild or something (although, admittedly less cool, as pandas are awesome).

I happened to be on the phone with my mom at the time, and our conversation was going something like this:

Me: [yammer yammer]
Mom: [yammer yammer]

[apartment begins shaking]

Me: ... Uh... Mom? Does England get earthquakes?
Mom: Don't be silly. England doesn't have earthquakes.
Me: Well, something's going on because my apartment is moving.
Mom: Maybe it's a train or the underground.

I was actually afraid it was a bomb or something nearby, but didn't feel I should voice that concern when my mom was thousands of miles away. Well, it was not a train or the underground or a bomb! It was an earthquake! I feel vindicated that I was not hallucinating, that the shaking was actually real and significant, and relieved that nothing around me is now a pile of rubble.

Currently, BBC and CNN are competing for the prize of Least Interesting Earthquake-Related Graphic in their stories on the Great Quake of '07. I'll let you be the judge of which one sparks your interest least.

U.S. = 1, Defunct Satellites = 0

You'll all be relieved to know that we did, in fact, successfully bring democracy to the errant malfunctioning spy satellite late yesterday night (I am using the current U.S. Government's definition of "bringing democracy" wherein we bomb the crap out of somewhere/thing. Thus, democracy is born). Only slightly worrying is the fact that we are confident that we destroyed the satellite, but not completely certain. If any of you find yourselves in clouds of toxic hydrazine gas, you know what happened.

That's nobody's business but the Turks

Welcome to Istanbul!

Three days in Istanbul! Surprise #1: it snowed all weekend. Serious, serious snowing, with often horizontal winds. We persevered in our sightseeing, though, and did not miss a single major site! Aya Sofia, a 1400-year-old church? Check:


The Blue Mosque, during freezing snow and getting to see the tail end of the Islamic services that evening? Check:


We also went to the Basilica Cistern (complete with live, eerie mood music), the Spice Bazaar and the Grand Bazaar, the Topkapi Palace (home to the Ottoman Sultans for 400 years) and the Archaeological Museum. Much of the weekend was spent bracing ourselves for the weather, enduring it as long as we could, and then racing for refuge in the form of an indoors sight, a restaurant, a hamam (Turkish Bath), or the hotel.

For the full album of Turkey photos, go here.

Other random highlights of the trip:
- Stalls in underground passageways selling handguns. Just rows and rows of handguns.
- We went to a hookah bar, where the attendant had to come by every two seconds and "fix" our hookah because we couldn't keep it properly lit.
- The random bar we ended up at Saturday night, complete with '80s music and a Turkish man wearing a black t-shirt with the Bald Eagle emblazoned across the front.
- Giving ourselves insulin shock from eating baklava.
- Lots and lots of Turkish tea.
- Being delayed by an hour on our return flight, and not getting home until 2:30 a.m.
- The grossly smoochy couple who used babytalk with each other. Sat in front of my friend on the plane, behind us on the shuttle into Istanbul, and were with us in line to board on our return flight, and with us on our train into London. They were ubiquitous.

Generally, Istanbul is amazing. Try not to go when it's freezing. People are very nice and helpful, food is tasty, and there's nothing quite as amazing as escaping a snowstorm to sit in a hot, steamy room and get scrubbed raw by an ancient Turkish woman in a saggy one-piece and a buzzcut. You think I'm joking, but I'm so not. It was amazing.

One thing I did not love: the book Istanbul, by Orhan Pamuk. He's a Nobel Prize winner, and he's lived in Istanbul all his life, so I thought it would be amazing and inspire a deeper love of the city. Instead, it somewhat made me want to poke myself in the eye with a fork. It's more or less intolerable, actually, and I'm not sure I can finish it. And I'm only at chapter five.