I hit about 45 hours without sleep right around the time the sun was rising this morning before I finally zonked out completely. Many would ask why... but honestly I couldn't give you a valid reason. True, I spent most of the time writing, but it wasn't like I was filled with any kind of driving inspiration (this time). I just didn't feel like sleeping.
Unfortunately, in my weakened state I let slip a terrible secret and I figured I should just get it out in the open now. It's my job to be the asshole at the movie theatre who won't let people bring in outside food. A tragic fate, but I accept it and refuse to be ashamed of it.
Really, as long as people are discreet (ie, I can't see it) I don't really care. I'm not about to start frisking everyone, though if you come in from 80 degree weather with your jacket zipped up and bulging in strange places I might stop you. It's those people who walk in practically waving around their Starbucks or McDonalds cup in plain sight as if to say, 'Just you try and stop me.'
Personally I don't think it's particularly fair either, and I've smuggled more than a little contraband into other theatres too (though I don't hold it in plain sight and raise hell when they stop me). But hey, it's my job and I'm gonna do it.
Saturday, July 31, 2010
Friday: an experiment in chemistry, game theory, and sleep depravation
At about 39 consecutive hours without sleep now. I've reached the point where I start to doze without realizing it and dream for a minute or two, my brain picking up where reality left off. Then I snap out of it again and unfortunately can't remember much other than everything started getting weird for a moment there. Normally, that doesn't start happening until around hour 50, but working two 13hr days over this sleepless span of time has sped up the fatigue a little.
We were doing an inventory and going through all the cleaning supplies in the janitor's closet the other day. Someone must have mixed up some chemicals or something, because today most of the glass in the lobby was horribly streaked. It must have created some kind of sediment that looked like hard water all over the windows, only it was quite a bit more tenacious. Sami and I went through all our various cleaning products with little to no effect on the streaks, even very carefully applying some of the hydrocloric acid-based toilet cleaner. Eventually Sami managed to find a combination of techniques that cleaned off the streaks. Meanwhile, I carefully emptied all our spray bottles of window cleaner down the drain (individually with the water runnung) and refilled them properly.
I got the chance to weild my general manager authority while dealing with some troublesome customers as they tried to take their Starbucks into the theatres with them. You'd expect people to complain more about the outrageous prices, but it still surprises me how shocked and offended people are when you tell them they can't bring in outside coffee,or ice cream or buckets of chicken. Today I argued with the two women in question for almost five minutes, and at one point even had to physically block their path when they tried to just walk in anyway.
They asked to speak with a manager. That's me.
They wanted the general manager. Still me.
Who was my superior then? Here's his card. He lives in another state.
All said politely and calmly with my fake plastic smile in place. It's a little worrying to me on some level, how good I've gotten at that smile.
We were doing an inventory and going through all the cleaning supplies in the janitor's closet the other day. Someone must have mixed up some chemicals or something, because today most of the glass in the lobby was horribly streaked. It must have created some kind of sediment that looked like hard water all over the windows, only it was quite a bit more tenacious. Sami and I went through all our various cleaning products with little to no effect on the streaks, even very carefully applying some of the hydrocloric acid-based toilet cleaner. Eventually Sami managed to find a combination of techniques that cleaned off the streaks. Meanwhile, I carefully emptied all our spray bottles of window cleaner down the drain (individually with the water runnung) and refilled them properly.
I got the chance to weild my general manager authority while dealing with some troublesome customers as they tried to take their Starbucks into the theatres with them. You'd expect people to complain more about the outrageous prices, but it still surprises me how shocked and offended people are when you tell them they can't bring in outside coffee,or ice cream or buckets of chicken. Today I argued with the two women in question for almost five minutes, and at one point even had to physically block their path when they tried to just walk in anyway.
They asked to speak with a manager. That's me.
They wanted the general manager. Still me.
Who was my superior then? Here's his card. He lives in another state.
All said politely and calmly with my fake plastic smile in place. It's a little worrying to me on some level, how good I've gotten at that smile.
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
What do swords dream about?
Power and Intent is one of those short stories I write more to explore an idea than anything else. The idea of an intelligent weapon was always strange to me when I encountered it. Especially those that actually spoke to or advised their weilders. It was more like a person had been transformed into a sword and was still able to communicate than that the sword was actually itself intelligent.
What if a sword wasn't enchanted with intelligence, but came to it on its own? No magical powers or special qualities, just a regular soldier's sword that just happened to become self-aware. It wouldn't really need to speak or to glow to be used. It probably wouldn't have any desire other than to continue to do what it was intended for in the first place.
What if a sword wasn't enchanted with intelligence, but came to it on its own? No magical powers or special qualities, just a regular soldier's sword that just happened to become self-aware. It wouldn't really need to speak or to glow to be used. It probably wouldn't have any desire other than to continue to do what it was intended for in the first place.
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Always in control
I caught a little of Serenity on TV yesterday right about the part where the government assassin said to Mal, "You can't make me angry." It was one of those lines that you hear and you can't help but think, what does that mean?
I go through bouts of depression every few months or so, but I'm lucky in that it's mild enough for me to be able to deal with it without medication. For me, dealing with it means recognizing it and thinking my way through it. It's not really quite that simple and sometimes it doesn't work, but the point is that I think about it a lot. One of the things I realized is that depression and anger are two sides of the same coin. They're both emotional responses to when you feel like you're not in control. You can respond to that with depression or with anger.
So when someone says, "You can't make me angry." they're telling you that they're always in control, and nothing you can do will be able to change that enough to tick them off. Of course, that just makes it all the funnier as Mal repeatedly out-manuvers him and catches him off guard until the assassin finally loses his cool.
I go through bouts of depression every few months or so, but I'm lucky in that it's mild enough for me to be able to deal with it without medication. For me, dealing with it means recognizing it and thinking my way through it. It's not really quite that simple and sometimes it doesn't work, but the point is that I think about it a lot. One of the things I realized is that depression and anger are two sides of the same coin. They're both emotional responses to when you feel like you're not in control. You can respond to that with depression or with anger.
So when someone says, "You can't make me angry." they're telling you that they're always in control, and nothing you can do will be able to change that enough to tick them off. Of course, that just makes it all the funnier as Mal repeatedly out-manuvers him and catches him off guard until the assassin finally loses his cool.
Inspiring facial hair
I've got a beard. Now it looks like Jon, the current assistant manager at the theatre, is growing one. It's far from the first time this has happend. For some reason, however bizzare, I seem to inspire a lack of shaving in others. It makes no sense to me at all, but very often a week or two after I meet somebody, they decide to grow a beard. Normally I probably wouldn't even notice except it's always been the same style I've got at the time, goatee, full, etc. Maybe there's some kind of rugged empathy going on. In any case it's very strange.
Sunday, July 25, 2010
Too much pressure!
The crazy 70hr week cut off too many artistic outlets, and try as I might I can't make proofreading into a creative endeavor. So last night I gave in and started writing as soon as I got home at about 10pm. It was something like 4am when I dozed off on my keyboard. At some point I must have sleepwalked my way to bed, because that's where I woke up when my alarm went off at nine this morning. Huge mistake though it may be, I can't hold it back any longer. My only hope is that I can still force myself to finish proofreading somewhere in between.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Disturbingly familiar
I've been the new boss for a week now, and things are running more or less the way they always have. The old boss took all his notes about staff schedules with him, so there were a few conflicts to resolve when I put up next week's shifts. Beyond that, the only real headache has been burrowing through his 'put it in a pile' filing system. There have been no new responsibilities, no changes in job description (i.e. keep it all running), and this week has passed just like so many others.
Of course, this all leads to one very important question: If I was doing it all already, why was he being paid 35% more??
[sigh]
A few more of these little life lessons, and hopefully it will finally sink in that it's an idiot who impulsively trusts others not to try to screw him over.
Of course, this all leads to one very important question: If I was doing it all already, why was he being paid 35% more??
[sigh]
A few more of these little life lessons, and hopefully it will finally sink in that it's an idiot who impulsively trusts others not to try to screw him over.
Monday, July 19, 2010
Life just got a lot more complicated
The boss got fired on Friday. Officially it was because he kept defying corporate policy, but rumors are flying that he was letting his kids watch movies after-hours. The janitor complained when they started leaving trash and beer bottles everywhere.
Friday was supposed to be my day off, but the RM called and asked me to come in for a meeting. Oblivious, I wandered in for what I thought was going to be an hour at most. Instead, I was offered the General Manager-ship of the theatre. From my perspective I had two choices: I could say yes and be paid for doing the job, or I could say no and do the job anyway while they looked for someone else and *not* get paid any more. I said yes.
So the last four days have been hectic running around trying to adapt to the hole in our management staff. I probably would be more excited about it if a week ago I hadn't been seriously considering just quitting. Also, I have a vaguely irrational fear of authority over others. But what the hell, I'll give it a shot. If my fears are ultimately justified and it sucks even worse than my old position, I can still decide to quit.
Friday was supposed to be my day off, but the RM called and asked me to come in for a meeting. Oblivious, I wandered in for what I thought was going to be an hour at most. Instead, I was offered the General Manager-ship of the theatre. From my perspective I had two choices: I could say yes and be paid for doing the job, or I could say no and do the job anyway while they looked for someone else and *not* get paid any more. I said yes.
So the last four days have been hectic running around trying to adapt to the hole in our management staff. I probably would be more excited about it if a week ago I hadn't been seriously considering just quitting. Also, I have a vaguely irrational fear of authority over others. But what the hell, I'll give it a shot. If my fears are ultimately justified and it sucks even worse than my old position, I can still decide to quit.
Friday, July 16, 2010
Worldbuilding - refurbishing old worlds
Going to lean toward the geeky a little... well okay, more than a little.
Our current RPG is fast approaching its climactic conclusion, and everyone's already started probing me for what my plans are when I take up the mantle of GM again. It's been fun to be a player again for a while, but I've been itching to become the orchestrator once more. I was thinking of something a little more steampunk themed for a change, so I've been doing some research.
I keep kicking around the question of how far science has progressed and what's possible. The real problem is that we all think in terms of modern day science. Single-shot pistols that take a minute or more to reload aren't too much worse than crossbows, but it would only be a matter of time before someone asks about finding an engineer to design something self-contained and bullet-like. Then comes the inevitable argument over why they can't suggest something like that. It's only the next logical step, after all. Well of course it seems that way to us, since we've already taken it.
It's because of that specific premonition I've already decided that gunpowder has not been invented and never will be. But variations on the same problem keep appearing as I try to map out this new world. What do I say when one of the players says she wants to create a telephone from a telegraph? I could just say it doesn't work, but she'll only try again and become upset if it doesn't work eventually, since we both know it's entirely possible to do with the technology of the era. I finally realized that the root of the problem was that both she and I would be picturing scientific advancement as a point on a single path leading straight to where we are now. The applications might turn out a little different, but when science advanced there was really only one direction it could possibly go.
I started looking into some of the defunct theories proposed back in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries and found a goldmine of possibilities. Concepts like the aether, caloric, and the od. They may have since been proven incorrect, but they weren't just wild ideas cooked up by irresponsible theorists trying to explain what they didn't understand while the real scientists were in the lab discovering the true nature of the universe. These theories were widely accepted by the scientific community. Numerous experiments were conducted and papers written by respected scientists in attempts to explore the nature of these 'imponderables'.
Who's to say that those theories weren't actually true in my world? They were explanations for the universe as they understood it. The current level of technology was fully within the possibilities suggested. Sending an electric current through a wire was pictured as being the same as pouring water down a tube. You could switch the flow on and off to send simple messages, but it would be impossible to modulate it with magnets in order to transmit sound. Other possibilities are suggested though. Would wires made from other materials be able to quickly channel heat or light (also visualized as intangible liquids) to distant locations just as quickly? I think I'm really on to something now.
Our current RPG is fast approaching its climactic conclusion, and everyone's already started probing me for what my plans are when I take up the mantle of GM again. It's been fun to be a player again for a while, but I've been itching to become the orchestrator once more. I was thinking of something a little more steampunk themed for a change, so I've been doing some research.
I keep kicking around the question of how far science has progressed and what's possible. The real problem is that we all think in terms of modern day science. Single-shot pistols that take a minute or more to reload aren't too much worse than crossbows, but it would only be a matter of time before someone asks about finding an engineer to design something self-contained and bullet-like. Then comes the inevitable argument over why they can't suggest something like that. It's only the next logical step, after all. Well of course it seems that way to us, since we've already taken it.
It's because of that specific premonition I've already decided that gunpowder has not been invented and never will be. But variations on the same problem keep appearing as I try to map out this new world. What do I say when one of the players says she wants to create a telephone from a telegraph? I could just say it doesn't work, but she'll only try again and become upset if it doesn't work eventually, since we both know it's entirely possible to do with the technology of the era. I finally realized that the root of the problem was that both she and I would be picturing scientific advancement as a point on a single path leading straight to where we are now. The applications might turn out a little different, but when science advanced there was really only one direction it could possibly go.
I started looking into some of the defunct theories proposed back in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries and found a goldmine of possibilities. Concepts like the aether, caloric, and the od. They may have since been proven incorrect, but they weren't just wild ideas cooked up by irresponsible theorists trying to explain what they didn't understand while the real scientists were in the lab discovering the true nature of the universe. These theories were widely accepted by the scientific community. Numerous experiments were conducted and papers written by respected scientists in attempts to explore the nature of these 'imponderables'.
Who's to say that those theories weren't actually true in my world? They were explanations for the universe as they understood it. The current level of technology was fully within the possibilities suggested. Sending an electric current through a wire was pictured as being the same as pouring water down a tube. You could switch the flow on and off to send simple messages, but it would be impossible to modulate it with magnets in order to transmit sound. Other possibilities are suggested though. Would wires made from other materials be able to quickly channel heat or light (also visualized as intangible liquids) to distant locations just as quickly? I think I'm really on to something now.
Saturday, July 10, 2010
Surfing ability restored!
I finally gave in and did a full restore on my home computer. Goodbye to anything I did over the last four months. Fortunately I'm a big fan of hard copies, so most of what I wrote has survived in one form or another. Downloaded music and movies though... gone. [sigh]
As I'm trying to put everything back together, I keep noticing how unfamiliar my computer is now. All the miscelaneous upgrades and add-ons that I'd become accustomed to, along with the inevitable bugs and glitches, are gone. The future is coming fast, where computers each have their own individual personalities based on those of their users. The singularity isn't far now!
I've just about got all my hardware reinstalled, then I'm off into the web to try to hunt down some of those files I lost.
As I'm trying to put everything back together, I keep noticing how unfamiliar my computer is now. All the miscelaneous upgrades and add-ons that I'd become accustomed to, along with the inevitable bugs and glitches, are gone. The future is coming fast, where computers each have their own individual personalities based on those of their users. The singularity isn't far now!
I've just about got all my hardware reinstalled, then I'm off into the web to try to hunt down some of those files I lost.
Friday, July 9, 2010
Predators, or at least half of it
Went and volunteered to prescreen Predators tonight to make sure it was put together correctly before the first show tomorrow. Unfortunately that turned out to be a mistake, because they were having many varied issues with the closing paperwork. The unfortunate part was when Jon kept coming into the theatre to get my help with why this or that number was way off. Overall, I probably saw about half of the movie, and missed the entire end while we were sorting everything out. What I saw wasn't bad at all, and I'll definitely have to go watch it again straight through to get the whole story.
One of the things I liked most about the Predator movies was the way the predators seemed to have an entire culture that we were only catching glimpses of. Obviously, the Alien vs Predator movies don't figure into this at all. I never even bothered to see the second one. The book on the other hand, having absolutely nothing to do with the movie, wasn't too bad at all. Again, there were lots of insights into the bizzare predator culture. I especially liked their concept of Aliens as the ultimate "hard meat" and Humans as the ultimate "soft meat" (anything not a predator is pretty much considered meat).
As hard meat, the Aliens were perfectly evolved killing machines, naturally deadly and instictively able to adapt to just about any environment. Just one could slaughter a predator if he was caught off-guard for even a moment. Hunting these things was a very common part of the predators' culture as exercises used to hone their reflexes and combat abilities.
Hunting the human soft meat on the other hand was considered the ultimate test of a predator's abilities. Only the most skilled and battle-hardened predators could even obtain permission to do it. The reason was that although at first humans were laughably easy to kill, they learned quickly. Unlike the Aliens, which had known attacks to defend against and very few weaknesses to exploit, over time the humans would start learn your attack patterns and figure out how to exploit your weaknesses. Once you started hunting them it would only be a matter of time before they started hunting you in turn.
Back to the movie, one of the nice things about all the human charcters being dangerous combatants was that there was hardly any panicking or "this can't be happening" mantras being chanted. Granted, it's a pretty realistic response for most people, but those characters always grate on my nerves. These guys kept their wits about them and did their best to deal with the situation as it came. There were a couple of fights initially, but once they figured out what was going on they realized that holding grudges wasn't going to help them any. I can't say for sure since I missed half of it, but it looked like the writer actually left the requisite 'trouble-maker' off the roster. You know the one I mean: he's the guy who's already proven himself untrustworthy but for some unknown reason is still part of the group, and you can just tell that he's only going to cause problems and create conflict until he finally betrays everyone or somehow chickens out.
So yeah, I'm definitely eager to see the rest of it.
One of the things I liked most about the Predator movies was the way the predators seemed to have an entire culture that we were only catching glimpses of. Obviously, the Alien vs Predator movies don't figure into this at all. I never even bothered to see the second one. The book on the other hand, having absolutely nothing to do with the movie, wasn't too bad at all. Again, there were lots of insights into the bizzare predator culture. I especially liked their concept of Aliens as the ultimate "hard meat" and Humans as the ultimate "soft meat" (anything not a predator is pretty much considered meat).
As hard meat, the Aliens were perfectly evolved killing machines, naturally deadly and instictively able to adapt to just about any environment. Just one could slaughter a predator if he was caught off-guard for even a moment. Hunting these things was a very common part of the predators' culture as exercises used to hone their reflexes and combat abilities.
Hunting the human soft meat on the other hand was considered the ultimate test of a predator's abilities. Only the most skilled and battle-hardened predators could even obtain permission to do it. The reason was that although at first humans were laughably easy to kill, they learned quickly. Unlike the Aliens, which had known attacks to defend against and very few weaknesses to exploit, over time the humans would start learn your attack patterns and figure out how to exploit your weaknesses. Once you started hunting them it would only be a matter of time before they started hunting you in turn.
Back to the movie, one of the nice things about all the human charcters being dangerous combatants was that there was hardly any panicking or "this can't be happening" mantras being chanted. Granted, it's a pretty realistic response for most people, but those characters always grate on my nerves. These guys kept their wits about them and did their best to deal with the situation as it came. There were a couple of fights initially, but once they figured out what was going on they realized that holding grudges wasn't going to help them any. I can't say for sure since I missed half of it, but it looked like the writer actually left the requisite 'trouble-maker' off the roster. You know the one I mean: he's the guy who's already proven himself untrustworthy but for some unknown reason is still part of the group, and you can just tell that he's only going to cause problems and create conflict until he finally betrays everyone or somehow chickens out.
So yeah, I'm definitely eager to see the rest of it.
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Sensory Stone
I was surfing around today and happened across a story devoted to the game Planescape Torment. It was more like a retelling of the entire storyline of the game, but it was such a story-intensive game that the story worked well. Much better than the published novilization in any case. The point of this though, is that it listed several of the sensory stone experiences, which were awesome. So I thought I'd throw out one of my favorites (it may have been paraphrased; I seem to remember most of the text in the game was written in second person):
Bitter Loathing
Venomous tears of pain brimming in my narrow yellow eyes, I gathered the tattered remains of my small, scaled, red wings off the floor. I humbly backed out of Groba's study, gritting my needle-like teeth beneath sealed lips.
Sure, I was only a spinagon - least among devils - but that was no cause for a pit fiend to tear my wings off because he didn't like the message I had brought him! What would my gelugon master do, now? He certainly couldn't say anything to Groba, and what use was a spinagon without its wings? I would probably get cast into the Pit of Flame for 'incompetence!'
Vengeance out of the question, there was little to do but shake my clawed fist and hate, hate, *HATE* Groba with all the loathing my hard little black devil's heart could muster...
Bitter Loathing
Venomous tears of pain brimming in my narrow yellow eyes, I gathered the tattered remains of my small, scaled, red wings off the floor. I humbly backed out of Groba's study, gritting my needle-like teeth beneath sealed lips.
Sure, I was only a spinagon - least among devils - but that was no cause for a pit fiend to tear my wings off because he didn't like the message I had brought him! What would my gelugon master do, now? He certainly couldn't say anything to Groba, and what use was a spinagon without its wings? I would probably get cast into the Pit of Flame for 'incompetence!'
Vengeance out of the question, there was little to do but shake my clawed fist and hate, hate, *HATE* Groba with all the loathing my hard little black devil's heart could muster...
Learning things... sort of
At first I was dismayed to see that my post hadn't gone through yesterday. Then realization dawned that I'd put it in the wrong blog. So, here it is again!
I spent today doing more research. I picked up a palmistry book and was skimming through it for useful hints and naturally found myself glancing at my hand every page or so. As I continued, I became more and more confused until I finally just had to stop skimming and read it. Unfortunately, that didn't help much either. I have a Murderer's Thumb? Why does it look like I have three different and divergent destiny lines? Why is the Venus ring longer than my heart line? And what the heck does that line mean? Either the book was grossly incomplete, or just like pretty much every investigation I've done on the state of my metaphysical self, my palm is wierd.
In my astrological birth chart I was born under a night sky that was completely empty; all the planets, the sun and the moon, were crowded together at the bottom of the chart. Every Tarot reading I've had has pulled up cards of doom, like the Tower and Death. And there was that one time a crazy red-headed gypsy put a curse on me...
Now apparently, my palm tells me that I'm unhappily married, a violent murderer, and will live to the age of about 25. Seems like either I'm constantly narrowly avoiding crazy amounts of misery, or I got somebody else's fate by mistake. In any case, it looks like I'm living on borrowed time.
I spent today doing more research. I picked up a palmistry book and was skimming through it for useful hints and naturally found myself glancing at my hand every page or so. As I continued, I became more and more confused until I finally just had to stop skimming and read it. Unfortunately, that didn't help much either. I have a Murderer's Thumb? Why does it look like I have three different and divergent destiny lines? Why is the Venus ring longer than my heart line? And what the heck does that line mean? Either the book was grossly incomplete, or just like pretty much every investigation I've done on the state of my metaphysical self, my palm is wierd.
In my astrological birth chart I was born under a night sky that was completely empty; all the planets, the sun and the moon, were crowded together at the bottom of the chart. Every Tarot reading I've had has pulled up cards of doom, like the Tower and Death. And there was that one time a crazy red-headed gypsy put a curse on me...
Now apparently, my palm tells me that I'm unhappily married, a violent murderer, and will live to the age of about 25. Seems like either I'm constantly narrowly avoiding crazy amounts of misery, or I got somebody else's fate by mistake. In any case, it looks like I'm living on borrowed time.
Sunday, July 4, 2010
Internet-less
Well, my computer continues in its slow painful death. Incredibly luckily, I have most of my stuff backed up somewhere. It's not something I've ever felt the need to do before. In the past my computers have aged relatively gracefully, picking up minor non-lethal viruses and malware along the way. I've never contracted anything that's caused it to collapse on itself. Because of my forethought (or my family's since they're the ones that gave me the backup thing) I'm near giving up and accepting the losses and wiping the thing. 'Cause I miss my computer!
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