Buff State has asked for my college transcripts. I requested that the RIT registrar mail them over. I told my contact at BSC that it may take a week to process, but that I can save her the suspense by telling her up front that my grades were awful and my graduation can only be chalked up to 'statistical anomaly.' She assured me they needed to have them, but weren't actually interested in reading them. I took this as a good sign.

In other news, I have overextended my professional commitments, and it is giving me The Stress. If I do manage to get this job at Buff State, I fear that my replacement will curse me the rest of my days. If I do not manage to get this job at Buff State, I fear that I will curse myself the rest of my days.

I decided I needed to recenter myself. I took a deep breath and a walk around the block. I came back to my desk and read Google News and immediately The Stress returned. I have never listened to talk radio. I stopped watching TV news in 2001 when I moved to New Jersey without my television. I stopped reading the newspaper after I moved back to Buffalo. I work for a newspaper now but all I read is News of the Weird. And this afternoon I deleted Google News from my homepage, thus severing my last tenuous contact with current events. 'An informed citizenry is the bulwark of democracy,' but all I ever got from the news was The Stress. So, fuck it - the partisan hacks and celebrities can have the media if they want it, but they will not get any more of my time, my aggravation, or my mind. Ignorance is bliss - selfish, peaceful bliss, and I intend to enjoy it.

I also made peace with my expanding workload. The problem is not myself, but rather that a newspaper of our size really ought to have an actual web department. I think this is all the website that you can reasonably hope to expect for $20,000 a year. I am not griping, but rather stating that technology is expensive, and impressive technology is impressively expensive.

There is a certain photographer who has been seriously cutting into my progress at work (e:zobar,101) - I am annoyed less because it is more for me to do than I am because she doesn't actually do any work for us. A meeting with the Boss Man has 'deprioritized' her project. Oddly enough, I am loath to tell her that; I would, however, have little difficulty in saying I'm outta here, deal with my replacement.

You may be wondering how I can complain about my workload by posting to (e:strip) when I should be working. It is a valid point. I politely suggest that part of my 'recentering' was updating the movies section after weeks of neglect, which was not trivial, and I feel Accomplished. You may accept or reject this justification as you see fit.

- Z

Out of 22 full-time employees in our office, eight have quit since I started working here [not including one who quit and came back] and one new position was created. Today I found out two more will be leaving in a couple of weeks to go see America.

The whole point of this story is: I got a callback on that web app developer position at Buff State . Seems I didn't completely fuck up my chances of being hired yet and, despite not having exactly the experience they're looking for [cf: Appendix I] it seems they still want me to have a short 3-hour chat with the search committee, the web team, and the web administration director. Privately I am shitting minibricks because the main reason I applied for the job was because it would be idiotic not to [double my salary, plus benefits, government job, &c.]. I was not really looking for a job. It's more like Laff in the Dark. I'm just cruising along in my uncomfortable little car with, like, bats in my face or something, and then it's like BAM! motherfucker! send us your resume. And then I fall right off the end of the extended metaphor into some kind of Search Committee asking me for references.

Which brings me to another, premature point- anyone want to be a web applications developer here? It involves Macs and Adobe Creative Suite and dealing with weirdoes and PostgreSQL and Zope ... lots and lots of Zope.

Also I saw (e:enknot) and (e:paul) at Cafe 59 at lunch today. We discussed the merits of a column in my paper about extremely dorky things that nobody would ever understand. We think it's a great idea, but I'm not convinced that the public is Ready for that kind of nerdiness.

- Z


_______________
Appendix I: They are seeking a web applications developer with custom CMS development experience [this is something I have been doing for several years]. They also want a few years of PHP and Oracle experience. I've used PHP extensively and I was allowed to fiddle with Oracle a little at school, but I have almost nothing to show for either. I've always been of the opinion that the stuff you do is what's important and the language you use is kind of an implementation detail. Employers rarely share this opinion.

In the United States, we pledge allegiance first to our flag and only secondly to the republic for which it stands. What happens if the flag no longer stands for what it once stood for? If someone draped themselves in the flag while dismantling the republic, would we defend the flag or the power of the people?

- Z

Correspondence with [former staffer] has piqued my interest in the Web Applications Developer position listed on Buffalo State's Human Resources website. I have spent more waking hours of my life developing, maintaining, and updating high-volume and high-readership custom document production and content management systems than I am proud to admit . . .

- - -

Last night we went to Condrell's for improbably enormous sundaes. I decided that if I ever ran my own soda shop, there would be an inscrutable item on the menu labeled:

UNSPEAKABLE ICE CREAM CATASTROPHE . . . . . . . . . . $9.50

It would probably be in small letters jammed in between two sections somewhere, where nobody would find it. And though one must not speak of the Unspeakable Ice Cream Catastrophe, we came up with some sugar-fueled ideas for what would happen when someone ordered it.

The Unspeakable Ice Cream Catastrophe:
[list]
would require a waiver
would require proof of age
would be on the news
would drip out of the ductwork in the ceiling
would come flying at your head from the kitchen
would be a Friendly's cone-head with a butter knife through it
would be different every time
would be served on a Reuben
would be accompanied by shrieks and loud banging from the kitchen
would not necessarily taste awful
would be topped with jagermeister
would be served in a totalled Tonka truck
would involve flaming marshmallows
would somehow degenerate while you were eating it
would look like any other sundae until the ninjas came rappelling in through the window
would somehow pass health inspection
would have a tire track through it
would be like dinner theater
would involve pop rocks
would require goggles and a poncho
would require counseling
[/list]

- Z

(e:dragonlady7) and I missed the (e:mike) & (e:terry) partysplosion this weekend because we took our wheels to Toronto instead [cf: ]. We had a wonderful time, and perhaps I will write about it in more detail later [but, more likely, I will forget].

This afternoon, we got eight more wheels each and tooled around the neighborhood a little [cf: ]. I am less likely to write about them later; suffice it to say that this is a very nice pair of roller skates, and I plan to pick up my old habit of roller skating around the park again [cf: ].

This weekend I got an email from a former editorial assistant informing me that Buffalo State College is seeking a Web Applications Developer . On the one hand, I like doing what I'm doing now - people programming - and, while I'm not exactly upwardly mobile, my department has no choice but to grow.

But when you get a call from a photographer who has not appeared in your publication since longer than you've been working there and whose skills at annoyance and coercion are second only to her skill at photography, blaming a recently-departed coworker for fucking her over, quote and unquote, and that she will have to miss fashion week because she can no longer fool the appropriate authorities into believing that someone publishes her photos [which are actually very good an publishable if only she could find a periodical that actually, say, has a fashion section] - and all this can be avoided if I could sift through somewhere around 4000 of her photos from the last two seasons and put them on our website within the next couple weeks [oh and by the way she just lost her baby and the world hates her] - well, it kinda makes me think that maybe doubling my salary and getting benefits for a cushy and less dramatic government job might not be as bad an idea as it may sound.

Any other disgruntled Web developers want in on this? We can show up for our interviews at the same time and freak out HR by talking trash at each other in the waiting room. We could make the interviewer uncomfortable by offering to 'do this Thunderdome-style.'

- Z