Diary of a Wolfeman

About a week ago the denizens of Chez Wolfie received a letter from our property management informing us that we owed them an extra $150, and that the sum was 90 days past due.

This came as kind of a surprise – it was the first we’d heard anything of the sort. So, I called and left a message on their machine that night. Two days later, I called them on my lunch hour and got the machine again. Today, I finally got a response in the mail

It seems that, unlike every other property management I have had, the rent is considered late if paid on the 5th, and we paid on that day twice over the past year, incurring two late fees of $75 each.

Now, I have known many people in different industries who got paid on the 5th, and the 5th as last day to pay rent came about to facilitate this common pay schedule. Yet our prop mgr seems to think the 4th is the better day.

You’d think this may be in an effort to extort more late fees, but they never told us about these until they were 90 days past due, and they probably would have let it go longer if it hadn’t been for the end-of-year paperwork. Hell, the first charge was from july!

Considering that they have not made any effort whatsoever in the entire year to contact us for anything other than a notice of inspection, I think I make a pretty good case. When they took over, we got no calls, no letters, no notices of policy at all. I even went in to talk to them about signing a new lease, and they never said a thing.

So, I wrote them a nicely legalese-filled letter explaining my point of view in the situtation – basically that they are full of it, and I would rather not pay a late fee (but much nicer). Especially one they felt so strongly about that they could let it go for 6 months before even mentioning it.

If I screw up, I’ll bite the bullet and pay the fees – but you have to tell me the rules of the game first.

In what appears to be a typical misunderstanding of the correct way to apply money to programs, there will be no New Year’s Eve celebration in Pioneer Squeare tonight for the first time in many years. Why? The city couldn’t decide how they were going to pay for it. Now, of course, it’s too late.

So, what do we have this year to celebrate with? A three-mile charity run.

Okay, I’m all for charity, but…Whee.

It’s rant time again, folks! You’ve been warned.

For Xmas I bought myself a data cable so I can get the pictures out of my phone without having to pay my celco fifty cents for the priviledge of emailing it to myself. When it arrived, I realized why I got such a cheap deal on it: no bloody software, just the USB drivers.

After several hours of searching, downloading and installing I think 7 different programs to get shit outta my sammy, only two actually worked with my phone. One was pure crippled trialware (look at all the things you could do if you paid for this!) and the other could only access the phone book and text messages.

Suddenly, a ray of light shone out from my browser: deep down in a dark user forum were the words “go to the Samsung support page, and check the downloads.”

*Whackwhackwhack*

That’s right, Mr. Big Bad Techie forgot to look beyond the accessories page to the support pages. And I only spend about two hours a day surfing support pages for my customers.

So now I can gleefully download all of the pictures out of my camera, where I can see…that they really look alot better in the camera’s tiny screen than on my 19″ monitor.

Crap. I may have to get a digicam soon after all. With rechargeable batteries. (I carry a power inverter in the car, so I always have 110V power at hand.)

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A while back, the Boss and I got this great idea for implementing SugarCRM at the shop to take the place of our lousy scheduling and contact management routine. I studied the install procedure for days before I finally got a couple of days set aside so I could implement the silly thing.

Once I got started, I ran into the joys of Open-Source software: there’s more than one way to do anything, and much tweaking may be needed. I kept running into stupid little problems that would take an hour or two of research and bashing before I could get to the next problem. The Boss wanted it done before the end of the year, so I was all prepped to take it home over the weekend to bash the thing together and get it working…

Only to find out at the last minute he was pulling me off the project and handing it to our “Lead Tech”. Now, LT lost a couple days worth of pay last week due to illness and wanted a way to make it up, so the Boss was just helping him out by letting him have the project, and he understands my feelings on the subject, but damnit! This was my chance to do something really cool, and it got yanked out from under me. Not only that, now I’m left with no closure because I don’t get to actually get it working.

It’s to the point where I’m tempted to bash together a box out of the spare kit lying around the garage just so I can beat the damn thing.

It’s been a busy house this past weekend. Let’s start at the top:

Friday, I used the Xmas cash me old man sent to take The WBGF out to dinner. Mmmmm, steak and coconut shrimp! Round out the evening by watching a silly movie (National Treasure) while she knitted madly trying to finish up a scarf for her nephew.

Saturday Slept in late, then off for a leisurely brekke at our favorite dive. A little grocery shopping, then we split up to take care of the last-minute preparations. Back together again at Chez Wolfie later for a tasty Xmas Eve mini-feast. Mmmm…teriyaki pork loin with stuffing and taters.

After that, we jetted off again to her sister’s house for a quick get-together with some of her family, where we discovered that the Niece had spent the last week baking cookies much the same as my lady had.

Once we left there, it was off to the EMC’s for a little while, which turned into a long while. We were having fun, and it took a while for Pookie to get to sleep so we could haul out the Santa gifts and get them under the tree.

Sunday Up early to run back over to the EMC’s place to watch my daughter try to bury herself in wrapping paper. The girl has 5 sets of grandparents, at least 7 aunt/uncle sets and cousins out the waz. We need a shovel to find her under all that loot – and this year was lighter than last.

After a happy morning of paper-tearing and playing with new toys, it was down the highway to Salem to pick up the Ratboy, who wasn’t having much fun with his mom. Really, it was his half-sister down there that was driving him insane, but still. Once I got him back home, I nipped over to The WBGF’s place to exchange our gifts, where she spoiled me rotten. She really is too good for me.

Incidentaly, I may change her alias here in the Wofie-blog. She changed the from / to names on each of the gifts she gave me, and one of the ones that seemed truly appropriate was To: Smart Ass, From: Tolerant. That one seems to peg it pretty well, so you may see Tolerant in place of The WBGF in the future.

Right about here there was a couple of hours of quiet restfulness…then it was off to the EMC’s again so Ratty could collect the loot the EMC’s family had sent up. They’re a good bunch, and still make a point to include Ratty, which is really cool. Yes, I’m lucky enough to even have likeable ex-in-laws. Again, stayed up late playing games (The Simpson’s Edition of Life), got home and crashed.

Today? Slept in late. Went to Schuck’s to spend a gift card, then back for groceries, then back to the house to fire up the new Crock-pot. (Chicken & dumpling-type-thingies, which turned out good.) Watched Bewitched while dinner was cooking (TERRIBLE! A train wreck I couldn’t stop watching), then we cracked open my new copy of Mr. & Mrs. Smith for desert. (It was a close call between that and Serenity, but the Roomie hadn’t seen it yet.)

Truly, it was one of the happiest Christmases I’ve had in a while. Lots of family and friends, no major disasters, and I was able to get good gifts for those I love. My cup runneth over.

Merry Christmas, one and all!

I hereby formally apologize for bending my girlfriend in half and making her kick the headboard. If she doesn’t finish her x-mas baking, it’s all my fault.

The Cyberwolfe

We have terrible news from the home front. Some time in the wee hours night before last, Tweaker, our Resident Rodent, passed into the great Hamster Heaven.

He was found on his wheel, with no apparent cause of death. He was in excellent shape for a hamster, well-fed and he got plenty of exercise spinning that wheel at all hours of the night. I myself saw him running that night before I went to bed, and he seemed fine.

Foul play is not suspected – his habitat has not been tampered with, and the two primary suspects for foul play would have been our feline masters Zoe and Trouble. Zoe has been a housecat for too long to care about any food that doesn’t come from my hands, and Trouble is just too stupid. (Honestly – I have seen this cat stare at tuna in his dish with that “what the hell is this?” look on his face while Zoe is inhaling her share.)

I think it was just his time.

Please take a moment to dig through your MP3 collection for the bagpipe version of “Amazing Grace” and play it in his honor. I think he would have loved to hear cats being tortured.

Feeling the urge to scribble, but nothing recent worth scribbling about, so here’s this instead:

Many years ago, sometime around the time I was three and my brother was six and starting school, I proudly announced to Mom that my invisible friend and I were enrolling in Sword School. Mom, being the understanding soul she is, took it in stride. She was not surprised, however, when I later found and joined the Society for Creative Anachronism.

Lucky Dog Dave, a friend of mine in high school shared a French class with me. I had a knack for the language and Dave had a knack for hearing my nearly-inaudible whispered hints, so were fast friends. (He got the name from a dog food commercial he could immitate to hilarious extent.)

Anywho, a few weeks into the class he suggested I come down to the Rennaisance Faire that was to be held soon and check out the club he was in. He described it as “D&D-like” and thought I’d get a kick out of it. Sounded like fun to me, so I went.

My hometown of Grants Pass (knowne in the SCA as Myrtleholt) is a small shire, and there were only a dozen or so folks hanging around, but it was a good bit of fun. People walking around in funny clothes, speaking in funny accents, and actually putting on armor and beating on each other. I was wearing a loaner tunic and doing my best (horrible) King’s English accent in minutes.

Later, Dave and some others dragged me to the after-revel at the Seneschal’s house. (A Seneschal is a government official in the SCA.) Then they truly sunk the hook in my cheek: they had sexy bellydancers, and one of them was my age!

Within the next two years, … Read the rest of this entry »

As I sit here listenning to my nipples freezing up and cracking, I have to wonder: who the fuck authorized all this cold weather? I didn’t vet this. Clerk!!

Of course, it doesn’t help me any that Ratboy is of the firm belief that his comfort is paramount to everyone else’s. Since he runs warmer than the rest of us, this is a problem – I’ve caught him twice this week with a fan in his window letting out all my expensive heat. His response? “Well, turn the thermostat down to 60 so I’m comfortable.”

Can’t. Strangle. Children.

I spent the first 18 years of my life in homes with wood heat, which means that it was always cold in the mornings. To hell with that – I will keep my house to a temperature where it is not unreasonable to walk around the house barefoot.

In other news, tommorow night is the annual Trans-Siberian Orchestra show, and I am again looking forward to it. Yeah, it will probably be the same show as the last two years – so what? How many people see the Nutcracker every year? I can’t stand ballet (unless it’s my daughter.)

Yup, outta steam again…
Read the rest of this entry »

I seem to have been a bit remiss in my postings. Ok, to bring you up to date:

That weekend with the fucktard programmer in Washington was followed by a Monday. That’s all I’ll say about that.

Tuesday was one of those days that starts out bad and gets worse form there. I very nearly got into a fistfight with my boss in a customer’s parking lot because he wanted me to strap a ladder to the roof of my car. Heaven forbid any of us employees balk at the idea of causing physical damage to our vehicles in the name of the Company. How I managed to get through that day without killing someone I don’t know.

Wednesday wasn’t so bad – another wiring gig, but no insulation in the ceiling and all the jack locations had holes pre-cut so it went pretty quickly. This job will get more fun later when I have to dismember the client’s existing phone system and move it to the new office. Finish off Wednesday with a pre-Turkey Day mini feast starring TWBGF and an evening vegging in front of the tv with no arguments, strife or other unpleasantness. Yes, an excellent evening indeed.

Thursday started off wonderful – see Wednesday evening. Finished off Turkey Day at the EMC’s place for copious amounts of excellent grub, good people and general happiness. My former sister-in-law seems to have gotten over whatever ill-will she held for me in the past, which is very cool.

Friday I did as little as possible until I picked my sweetie up from work. This brings us to today, in which I again did as little as possible, and most of what I did do involved playing with my daughter Pookie.

Yep, just a whirlwind of excitement around here. Then again, this is the closest thing I have had to a vacation in over a year, so I’m getting the most I can out of it.

The World’s Best Girlfriend and I met up at the mall the other night to do a little shopping and grab a quick bite to eat in the food court. We were happily munching away when a minor altercation between a group of young black men started up in the open area in front of the theaters. It seemed like nothing at first, but I kept my eye on them just the same.

Sure enough, the minor incident escalated into a full fistfight between at least three people, and started drifting over toward us. Patrons seated nearest the scuffle jumped up and ran away. The WBG smartly moved around to keep our table between herself and the action (her back was to them originally, with no protection) but otherwise stood her ground. I stood up and stepped behind my chair when they got within 10 feet.

What none of the other patrons saw as they all ran away was that this was nothing more than greasy kid stuff. These were not hardened gang-bangers trying to kill each other, these were teenagers burning off testosterone. The blows they managed to land all hit soft targets, and even then did no real damage. The kid that got the worst of it hopped back onto his feet when it was over and was more worried about whether his pants were falling down than any potential bruises.

I’ve gotten hurt worse rough-housing with my older brothers.

What does this mean, when only two of about 15 people are brave enough to stand their ground in the face of adversity? It means I think public schools need to be teaching basic hand-to-hand, or at least situational awareness. If an invading force were to hit the beaches of America today, I wouldn’t be counting on my neighbors to help defend our block.

Okay, I could count on two of them, but that’s because I know how many swords they own. You get my point.