Where you least expect

I posted a comment this morning on one of the blogs I read regularly. It wasn't anything particularly pithy or witty; in fact, it was pretty mundane. In it, I mentioned (without specifics) who I work for, sort of. It's not that it's a secret, but I really believe in the axiom of never posting what you wouldn't want your boss (or co-worker, or parents) to read. I also work for the kind of employers who tend to think that whatever you do, at work or away, you represent them. So I'm very careful about talking about work, or anything that might be related to work.

Anyway, I was less vague than usual over there, and I identified in a sort of nebulous way who I work for. When I went back to that blog later, I saw a comment addressed to me by name, expressing good wishes for my safety. Now, the job I do is considered by many to be one of those that carries a higher than usual degree of risk. While I admit the validity of that point of view, and in fact, I admire and respect my colleagues who do those very risky jobs, I am not, myself, in an especially dangerous situation, and I sometimes feel a little uncomfortable when someone shows me some special respect or consideration. It's a sort of reflected glory that belongs to those colleagues, not to me, but it would be churlish of me to point that out. So I accept, on behalf of them, the respect shown me, and the concern. If you know who I work for, you know they deserve it.

Sherman, set the WayBack Machine for...

Oh, my. I can't say anything. Just go have a look. I lived through this. Pity me.

Share and share alike

I've decided, for NaBloPoMo, that every day in addition to posting on my own blog here, I'm going to read at least one random blog from the NaBloPoMo site, and comment on at least one of them. If someone comes here from NaBloPoMo and comments, I'll read their blog in return, and try to comment. So, I'm off to read the blog of "not fainthearted," who commented on my post yesterday. And then I'm going to hit a random blog or two.

If you're here from NaBloPoMo, do me a favor: read some of the back posts, and post a comment. I don't care if you comment on something old or something recent. Just let me know you've been here and read something. And, as I said, I'll return the favor.

Roller Coaster

I've been expecting to go on this extended trip for work for a while now. We were expecting to leave next week. It's something that's important to me professionally, as it gives me opportunities to learn things I just can't do while I'm at home. I've been looking forward to it, both because it's to a really cool place, and because, frankly, I've felt a bit left out. Others have been to this place, but I haven't had the good fortune to be both at home and available when the trips came up. This time was for me.

Then last week something happened. Upper levels of management (and boy, is THAT an understatement) decided that we should go somewhere else. Oh, and by the way, the job you do? We don't need it so much over there, so you and your trainer (and a couple of other folks) will be taken off of the list, and replaced by a few others.

Sigh. OK, these things happen. But then they changed their mind, and said I WOULD go. Sadly, that lasted only a day or so, as they quickly changed back and decided that my trainer and I would best be served by staying home. But just in case we DON'T go to the other place, plan to go to the first place. It got as far as signing out of the office in preparation to leave, before they finally said no, we're definitely not going to the first place, and you're and those other 4 guys are staying home so we can take these 3 guys.

Yesterday I was out doing some other training. When I came home I checked my work email, and found that while I was out, they changed the list again. Everyone who was originally supposed to go on the trip to the first place is now back on the list, and the extra people are off. The list is back to where it was at the very beginning, but the trip is going to the second place. Oh, there's one exception. *I* am not on the list. My trainer is. And since I was out of the office all day, I don't know why not.

Now I need to go to work today and find out what's going on, and figure out how personally I need to take this. I sincerely hope that I don't have to take it personally at all, but I can't help feeling a little ... betrayed. Maybe that's not the best word, but it's the one that comes to mind first. We'll just have to wait and see.

A true challenge

So... NaBloPoMo. National Blog Posting Month. One day, one post. A pledge to post at least once a day for a month. It doesn't have to be long, it doesn't have to be pretty. But it does have to be a post.

I'm going to give it a go. And this is number one. Thanks for coming by. :)

Food of the (geek) gods

Here's a pop quiz: Do you know what this is?


No? How about a wider angle:



Still not sure? Here's the full picture:



This, my friends, is what the Brits call "Romanesque" or "Romaness," which is also referred to as "Romanesco Broccoli." It's not a created hybrid of anything, as it's apparently been around since at least the 16th century. It's a pretty stunning examply of fractals in nature. It's described as tasting "like cauliflower, without the aftertaste." I've only had a tiny taste of it, raw, but it was rather tasty. We're having some, steamed, with dinner tonight. If ever a food was made for geeks, this is it. If you have any mathematicians in your family, serve this at Thanksgiving and get a whole new level of dinner-table conversation!

Like son, like father.

Remember this? And the post it belongs to?

Well, today we add this:



And, because I'm so proud of him, here's my inspiration for this:




As you can probably see by his face, he's quite pleased. And well he should be.

Down by the old mill stream.... no, wait...

I've had a bunch of education, courtesy of my job. I've also managed to take a few college courses on my own. Unfortunately, because of the nature of my work, it's difficult to enroll in a school and stay there all the way through to graduation. Fortunately, there's Excelsior College. Now, there are those who think of it as just another diploma mill, but I must beg to differ. Excelsior (formerly Regents College of the University of the State of New York) is accredited by an actual U.S. Department of Education-recognized accreditation organization. It doesn't offer credit for "life experience" or "alternative study." What it does offer is acceptance of transfer credits from other accredited institutions, in addition to its own distance-learning courses. This is a great boon to people like me. I can take my 15 credits from XYZ University, my 37 from PDQ State, and so on, and transfer them to Excelsior, who will evaluate them and give me credit toward an Excelsior degree. Just like any other school. The big difference is that Excelsior doesn't have a residence requirement. They don't insist that I earn a certain number of credits through them. They'll offer courses if I need them, but if I have enough credits for a Bachelor's degree spread around several different schools (because I've moved around a lot) Excelsior will award me that degree. It saves me having to repeat classes just to satisfy XYZ University's requirement that at least 30 credits be earned in their classrooms. The difference between Excelsior and the diploma mills is this: with Excelsior, I actually did take classes, earn grades, and learn something. With a diploma mill, you pretty much send them a check.

So why do I mention this? Well, as I said, I have had a lot of education, but it's spread out around a few different schools. I recently earned a promotion at work, and the (as yet) unwritten rule is that for the NEXT promotion, a Bachelor's degree is pretty much required. Oh, you CAN get promoted without one, but the statistics are something like 95% of promotees have one. So anyway, I decided I would finally gather up my credits and see what I needed to finish. I sent all of my transcripts to Excelsior, and waited. Last night, I got a notification that they had reviewed my transcripts, and decided that for my desired degree program (BS in Liberal Studies) I needed...

3 hours. 2 hours of "Natural Science/Math" and 1 hour of "Information Literacy."
That's not bad, not bad at all. Wow, I had no idea I was so close to being able to change the "education level" checkboxes on all the forms I'll fill in in the future. Yep. 3 hours. 2 classes. I can probably CLEP the math; I can't imagine they want me to get an upper level math for a Liberal Arts degree. That's three credits. One credit of overkill. So all I'll need is the one credit of...

Wait... what? "Information Literacy?" Yep. It seems they've (along with most other online-type schools) decided that I need a course in "how to properly conduct research in the 21st century, using the internet." Things like, if I'm researching a medical question, do I trust the AMA website more, or do I choose to get my information from some guy who thinks everyone would be healthy if only they drank their own urine every day?

This SEEMS like a reasonable request. But... it's a "self-paced" class. It's "taught" by their librarians. It's scheduled for 8-weeks, but it can be successfully completed in 45 minutes (I know at least one person who has). And it costs $270. You'd think that anyone who could find Excelsior's website, create a login, register for the school, retrieve the email and check their course progress would pretty much have demonstrated the required proficiency. But they need to know that I can do it "properly." Oh, they say they're willing to accept it as a transfer from another accreditied school, but I also know someone who tried to do THAT, and... they hoops he had to jump through? No. I'm going to pay it. Well, actually, no I'm not -- my employer is. But if you know where I work, you know who's really going to pay it.

Rest assured, however, that I will be lodging a very strongly worded complaint with the college regarding this... travesty.

Just as soon as my diploma arrives.

Sleep tight...

Because of my lengthy commute, usually I arrive home just in time for dinner and then bedtime. We have some bedtime rituals in our house that make chivvying two children off to dreamland just a bit easier for us: Lily and I have "a race" up the stairs. No matter who wins, it's always "a drawl," which is a cool thing because only if we have "a drawl" do we get to share a special "draw hug" involving an extra-tight squeeze around my neck. Since Lily expects this race every night, if I head up without her she gets quite upset. On the other hand, if I just suggest that tonight I might actually win the race (by getting a head start) she will immediately drop everything (including the "but I don't want to go to bed now, I'm not tired" game) and head peaceably off to bed. Then I brush her teeth, and we "race" to her room, where I read her two stories and sing "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star." After that, I'll turn on her musical night-light, which she's had since she was born (sort of), at which point she'll usually tell me she can't sleep. So I will suggest she count something. The first time, I suggested that old standby, sheep. The next night, however, she said, "I counted all the sheep." So I picked some other animal. Then one night she wanted to count gummy bears. Ooookay. Then it became "gummy (somethings)" every night. Next we progressed to "chocolate gummy (somethings)," and we are currently counting "mint chocolate gummy (somethings)" each bedtime. Oh, and now I have to have her count TWO things. So tonight she's upstairs counting "mint chocolate gummy rhinoceroses" and "mint chocolate gummy giraffes."

David's ritual is much easier now, although it was quite nearly as complex in the past. Now, all I have to do every night is make sure to "give him his bed animal." See, once upon a time, when he was about 2, I said to him one night, "Good night! Sleep tight! Don't let the bed... um... (pretending to forget what bites you in bed)... alligators bite!" He giggled and said, "No, daddy, BUGS!" So the next night, I played for the laugh again (hey, I know my audiences!) and chose some other creature to lurk in wait in the bedclothes. We've done this now nearly every night since. He MUST correct me ("Bugs!!!") or the ritual is incomplete. Sometimes, when I'm away, I'll enlist Susie's help, either by giving her a list or a topic, and she acts as my proxy. Topic? Yes, since we've been doing this so long, we've made more of a game out of it. It started out by me trying to name a different animal each night starting with successive letters of the alphabet. Then it was all mythical creatures, then extinct creatures, and so on. The deal now is, I think of a unifying characteristic, and each night one animal from that group is the biter. He has a week to figure it out. He's quick, I'll tell you. He's never needed more than three days, but now he's testing me. Once he figures it out, he writes it down, and waits for the end of the week to see what animals I've chosen to fit the pattern. This week's group started on Tuesday, with penguin, followed by flamingo and tiger. And so I'll end this post the same way I ended my day with David:

"Good night! Sleep tight! Don't let the bed raccoons bite!"

Just like old times.

Looks like I'm all moved back in over here. All the posts from there have been posted here. I still need to unpack the rest of the boxes (add the labels, see if the comments will transfer) but for the most part, this is it. Aren't you glad you waited?