Please unlock Dave

First, Kudos to Isaac for naming the one piece of hardware I have yet to purchase, the double gertered bavarian cold dipped snaus screw. I checked at my local Ace hardward emporium and they come in various lengths and either hot-dipped, cold-dipped or stainless. It goes without saying they are bugle tipped. I bought matching earrings made from them for Faye for Christmas so don't tell her.
And Kudos to Diane for renaming the porch the porck. I will christen it as such when the champagne arrives.

So, I am in a new job with high expectations. I kind of lied my rear end off in the interview, (I invented cheese and the computer) and I am trying my best to figure things out on my own instead of calling every 9 minutes with another "how do I" type question. So this morning my boss asks for a specific document by the end of the day with very specific information. He had even provided the slides from a powerpoint presentation on how to access the database to get the information. Well, this seems like a no-brainer for me. I should be able to review the slides, access the database and send out a memo the likes of which have rarely been seen in all the land. I shall succeed - I just knew it.

Well, you have all tried to gain access to websites and databases when the password and the filename contain numerous letters, numbers and symbols, some of which have to be capitalized or lower cased or whatever. Well, I went through every possible combination of these trying to get into the damned database and I couldn't do it. Before I go on, a note about my boss. He is a British man and can be very finicky , especially when he says he wants something by a certain date. They are refered to as Hardfiles at Farmers and I was recently(just hours before this) called on the carpet because I had missed one of his Hardfiles. So I was not about to miss this one. Anyway, like I said he is a Brit from Kennsington Smythefield Widget Pickleworthe Fudgemonkey-on-Avon, a suburb of Plankmeat Farthington Specialsaucelettucepickle Onasesameseedbun Pencilneck Danglersbotton. He is very particular about everything. So, after literally hours of trying every other avenue to get into this database (I called the helpdesk and HR and people I didn't even know) I finally sent him an e-mail admitting my failure and asked for his help with the database. Minutes later I get the e-mail chain from him - He sent my e-mail to the IT guy and it stated "Please unlock Dave." I spent the better part of my morning trying to get into a database and give him some F-gerund memo and he had me locked out of the database. There is still spit on my computer screen from all the cursing and venom I spewed, yes spewed, when I saw that e-mail.

That was how my morning started.
How was yours.

Nearly a porch

After another weekend (Saturday for you non-mormons) I still have not completed the porch. It has 2/3 of a railing now and is only marginally dangerous for those who venture the risks of actually approaching my door. I approximate that only one in five would actually hurt themsemves on the deck and of those, likely only one in three would take to time to sue me. I can live with those odds.

We started the day at 8:00 AM because deckers are not allowed to sleep in on the weekends. My poor neighbors have heard the whine/scream of a chop saw at 8 AM for the past three weekends. It's like the cock-a-doodle-doo from the Orme's house. Luckily most do not own handguns or I would be a dead duck. We went to the store shortly thereafter because the hardware and wood that I purchased for the remainder of the project were woefully understated. Can you believe it - I didn't even know they made stainless steel deck bolts in 3, 4 and 5 inch lengths. I thought hot dipped was all I had to do. I think not.

We also had to buy very nice cedar for the railing. I understood that, since people would be running their hands on this railing, it had to be the nicest cedar out there, the nicest cedar available to humankind. Cedar so nice each individual piece had to submit a business plan with graphs before it could even be cut down and considered for the position of my railing. Well, we went to the cedar botique and purused the cedar. It was a nice place. A man in a tuxedo brought us both a glass of champagne and had the cedar brought in to the office one at a time. All right, it wasn't quite that outrageous but it was close. Of course we looked at every piece of wood in the store and then chose the must humble 2x4 in the emporium. I should have been scared when there was no price marked near the wood bin. Well, after all was said and paid for I paid almost $22 for a 4 ft piece of wood. So if you come to my house and walk on my porch, plelase feel free to run your grubby little hands all over the railing because it contains part of my soul and some of my 401K. It does look nice though. However, the deck/porch is not done yet. We only got the main part of the railing done. At the top where it makes to two quick turns is still open and dangerous. I can't wait for halloween.

We have the platinum-grade cedar for the top railing and have it properly dove-tailed/mitred and waiting to be placed. When we were ready to do this my lumber-mentor commented that we really needed to use his "oval machine" to do the job properly. Now I confess I've been on the other end of these before. I've sent new scouts on snipe hunts and it was fun. I thought he was kidding but the look in his eyes told me otherwise. He was not about to let me half-ass my way through this last critical step of the porch process. (In fact, I am the king of half-ass. I have special chairs so I can sit down. I even walk a bit funny because of it. I think I am a protected class now.) He would have no confidence in that edge joint unless it was properly ovaled into place. I don't quite understand the process of the oval machine but it sounds like, if the Iraquis had used them previously, it would be an entirely different war over there. I think this should become a campaign issue, seriously. I don't need an economic stimulus check if I can't even afford an oval machine. And another thing - what else in my house needs ovaling? I bet the Japanese have ovalers, and spare ones to boot. I bet Japanese kids are learning ovaling in elementary school while my kids are learning how to save the princess in Mario Brothers. I blame the democrats.

I will let you know how it goes, assuming it is ever finished.

E-mails? Who needs e-mails!!!

I have this recurring nightmare. Not the one with the duck. This is a real one. Where I am happily working and I have tins of information I need to do my job but I know I don't have to remember it all because I have these e-mail files with it all in there. Loads and loads of current information that I can access because I know where it is, it's in my e-mail archives. It's like knowing the answer to final Jeopardy. Comforting. Ahhh!

Well, in my dream I accidentally hit a key, it's a mystery key and I have no idea what it is or how I hit it, but all of the sudden my e-mail files are all gone. They actually disappear before my eyes and I scream the most foul venom at my computer screen. Well guess what happened this afternoon at about 3:35 PM. You guessed it. I had a very similar experience except that I didn't lose all my e-mail archives, I dropped a piece of toast face down in the kitchen. It was awful.

Actually something like that did happen, the e-mails, not the toast. But instead of losing all of my e-mails, they just all got scrambled and dropped into on big mess of a file. So now I have my information but it's all messed up and it takes me forever to locate it. I have a three-day task facing me to re-arrange all of my lovely tasty e-mails into a cogent order again. I'm sure this would not have happend if I was working on a Mac. (Shout out to captain Dad there)

So otherwise, I am now working upstairs in Kevin's old room and it just might work. I want to you all to know I actually changed out of my jammies today when I was at work. I did wait until 2:30 PM to do it but that is not the point. I did change. We had a conference call where we discussed two audit files for almost three hours. I was laying on the bed with my clip board farting too beat the band and no one was the wiser. Except me of course - I was cracking myself up. Some of them were truly masterpieces of flatulent art. I kill me. My butt is the funniest thing on the planet. No joke there.

Anyway, I must now rest up for another jammied day at work.

Deck this!

It is mostly done. The deck, that is. This Saturday we (mostly him) finished the deck proper. The raziling was saved for another day. We want to draw out the pleasure as long as we can. It looks like a deck. It smells like and deck. And people walk on it without fearing for thier lives. At least they do not comment that they fdear for their lives. Before it was a regular occurrence.
I actually look forward to getting the newspaper now.

Faye and I went to the singles ward today and , Woof, what an experience. It is so quiet. If they ever ask me to talk I an going to my other ward, my true ward, the week before and I will tape record the sacrament time and then play it back during my talk. No kids screaming and that means I have to be quiet as well. We can't play games like we used to. You know the one - you lean over to your spouse and pick out another person and whisper it to your spouse. That is the person he has to marry if you suddenly die. When the dry heaves wear off it is your turn. YOu get to choose your husband's next wife. We have done this and have been able to not really hear any of the talks. It's great fun unless one of you actually hurls in the pew (insert your own joke here.) The real talking starts when the speakers get going. I knows young people talk alot but this was almost embarrassing to listen to. One of the speakers started espousing how dating was like your relationship with the Savior. I didn't get it either. But, as soon as he mentioned dating, it was carte blanche to all kibbitz about how everything was about dating and marriage, as if going to the singles ward wasn't about dating and marriage. It was kind of humorous. Also, it was kind of funny - Faye and I thought we were coming in to this ward as the new couple, it turns out that all of us are new couples so no one knows hwat the heck we are doing. All I know is they had little donut holes and cider in the cultural hall after church so I stuck around and fellowshipped a few of them nuggets, if you know what I mean. What a crazy church.

These two auditors are out golfing. The first one tees off and hits a hole-in-one. He is ecstatic. The second one says, "Not according to my R3 Secondary you didn't." They both fall down laughing. That one even makes me laugh. Just kidding.

Kansas City, Eh?

Two nights in Kansas City seems like enough. I like the people I work with and I think they like me. I just don’t need to spend 48 hours together. I wouldn’t mind 48 hours together, just not all at once. A few hours here, then a week off, a few more hours, then a month away. That is how I would like to spend 48 hours with these people.

And here’s another thing. By way of explanation, the first paragraph was the first thing. Otherwise this could not be “another” thing, it would just be a thing. So anyway, if you get up early at a hotel and are forced to shower and get dressed and be forced to wear one of the three shirts you have that say “Farmers” on it, and have to eat breakfast with these same people starting at 7:15 AM. And then after a rigorous discussion during the morning, you have to eat a “working lunch” with them again. And then another grueling discussion where we rehash the same things over and over and over and over again because, if you go to a meeting, even though someone else has just said the very thought in your brain, you still have to say it anyway,otherwise yo have no worth the the company - after 5 more hours of that, they then announce “We have reservations at J. Pierpont Wondershorts for dinner at 6PM.” I mean, really? Huh? After 10 consecutive hours with the same 15 people you really want me to go out to dinner with them as well? What sort of bonding do you think I need to do with these people? I see them in the elevators. (“Hey” is what you say when you see them. That is sufficient.) You see them in the restrooms. (Can I at least pee without you?) You then have to see them every time you eat. And then, as if you now are going to declare them as your dependent, they all want to go to the bar and get drinks afterwards.

Ay carumba. I mean, do you people not have other things to do in their life? I just can’t take these people after that much time together. For heavens sake, these people like to talk about audits, even after work. (These two auditors walk into a bar. The first one says, “Hey, what is your variance?” The second one responds, “TFQ or CR?” They both laugh till the pee themselves. Seriously)

So I am now in the airport waiting for the airline gods to determine if my flight will be on time or I will be forced to make friends with the nice garbage lady again. I went through the security check this afternoon and thought I was OK. No lights or buzzers went off. Then a nice young man with an evil streak and a badge asked me to move to the right and he frisked me with extreme prejudice for, what I thought, was way too long. I asked him at one point when I was going to meet his parents. Then, without explanation, he said I was just fine and asked me to move on so he could target his next hapless victim. I asked what it was that prompted him to treat me with such distain. He looked at me and just pointed to my trays of clothes and shoes and said thank you. I really would like to know what I did so that I could avoid doing it next time. I really didn’t enjoy the rubdown notwithstanding the noises I was making. (I am a little ticklish.)

So there, I’ve been to KC and I am now coming home.

The Porch from Hell

As some of you may know, I am replacing the front porch to my small imitation home in Tualatin. A nice man from our ward came to the house and told Faye multiple times that the front steps to our porch were a death trap and he would love to help me replace it. I finally relented and called him to discuss the possibility of his helping me replace my porch. Well, he had computer drawings and three options before I could say "incomptetent" (and I am referring to myself here.) When I say he helped me, he did all the work and I watched and handed him tools.

Well, he and I reviewed the drawings and finally agreed on option three (remember this because it is a key part of the story later.) He gave me a list of lumber and hardware to purchase and assured me he would come over the Saturday after conference and we would put the porch together before the HP social at 4:30 PM. (Note the omminous music starting to build in the background)

Well, he arrived and the house at 7:30 AM last Saturday and got all of his tools out of his car and set up shop. We tore apart the old porch - that was a lot of fun. I love taking stuff apart. It was done in just a few minutes. He has great tools. I have boy tools - his tools are big-boy man tools and have genitals of their own. It was fast. Then he took a look at the lumber I had purchased. Those of you familiar with foreshadowing will knoe what happens next. I had the wrong wood. It was like it didn't even come from trees. How could a person who went to school and could drive a car pick wood like this. I could hear his eyes rolling back in his head. This wood would not do and we needed to replace it immediately. People who know me know I own two cars, neither of them is a lumber-toting vehicle. I don't think either of my cars could pack anything larger than lincoln logs. So I had to call a friend in the ward who owns a pickup truck. After dialing the wrong number - twice (remember this is before 8AM)- I was able to get ahold of Steve Beikman and I borriwed his truck-like vehicle. I know I don't even have a truck and havce to covet his truck, but this vehicle was a pile of it. It was an eventful trip to Home depot and back. But the good news is, we had the right type of wood. It was beautiful wood, it was the right size, it was very expensive. Oh, option three was not the right option, it was option 1 - I just didn't realize until we were purchasing all new wood.

So, meanwhile, back at the house, there was a large space where my porch used to be and I was wondering which of the many neighborhood kids was trying to knock on my door becoming seriously injured and planning the lawsuit. We got back home and were able to finally start on the porch. Hahahahahah you are such a dope. Of course we could not start on the deck. The joists and nails I purchased were not hot dipped. Apparently, in the old days when our pioneer forefathers were small, people made porches and decks with galvanized nails. In our modern times, it appears that galvanized nails are only used to nail old dog turds to the fence. It was not an option to construct my porch with galvanized nails, thay had to be hot dipped. And don't get me started on the joists. So this time we sent Faye back to Home Depot to get the hot dipped stuff and he went back to his house under the guise of getting some additional tools and stuff. I'm sure he went back home, called all of his friends, and told them all what a baloney-for-brains I was. They all got a huge kick out of the galvanized nails story, I'm sure. HE called then on a hot-dipped phone.

An hour or so later we were back at the house, hot-dipped nails in hand and the right joists in the other - ready to start making a porch. Remember, this story is about building a porch. It is now 11Am and we are ready to start putting a porch where the big porch hole is now. We actually started cutting the very nice wood and made a rough frame for the porch. We hung joists (insert your own joke here) and it was quite sturdy. Well, I was feeling kind of manly all the sudden and felt like we just might build a porch. We stopped for lunch. We had sandwiches. It was great.

Then we started to cut out the risers, the actual steps for the porch. He cut the first one and it was wrong. Luckily it was cut out of the 2x12x12 ft boards, the most expensive and hardest to transport. Well, I ran to the store to get another expensive board. Keep count at home - this was trip number three. So we eventually got all five risers cut out and I was thinking maybe we could really get going on the porch. Well, by this time he was tired and it was time to go socialize with the high priests. So what I had left was an outline/frame where my porch used to be. It did keep the deacons from coming to collect fast offerings on Sunday, so we had that going for us.

Fast forward to this evening, Monday. He came by the house and he asked what the concrete bolts looked like. Go figure, I had the wrong ones. One more trip to Home Depot and I purchased more bolts and a drill bit. After that was purchased we started to connect the risers and after a long time we were actually ready to put the decking on and make the porch look like a porch. He took a look at the decking screws I had purchased. He had actually looked at the box if screws on Saturday and mentioned that we had more than enough to get the job done. Apparently he was just commenting on the quantity of screws, not the quality of them. Well, tonight he actually opened the box o' screws and advised me I have a brain made of anal lunchmeat because these screws were for composite deck material, not wood. We needed bugle head deck screws. He actually said that. He is probably telling his friends now "I told him to get bugle head deck screws, and he bought it.This guy is a maroon." We actually tried one and, to the untrained eye, I thought the deck screws were just fine. Well, I am a botard because he would not have any part of it. So my deck now has risers and nothing else. He said we needed stainless steel screws because - and at this point he said something about the type of wood and some other things but I didn't hear because I just wanted the damned porch to be done. So he is going to purchase some stainless steel screws at a cost just lower than white diamonds and he will put the final decking on when I am out of town the next few days.

So, what did I learn from this. I did not really purchase anything at all that we ended up using on the porch. I had the wrong nails, the wrong wood and the wrong bolts. I clearly have no idea what I am doing when it comes to building a porch. I mean, I would have put the decking on with the lame screws and there would have been little dimples in it. I also learned that anal lunch meat would be a good punk rock band name.

I will be going to Kansas City tomorrow and return Thursday evening late. I might have a new porch when I return. I might have a new house. I really don't know what to expect.
I'll let you know.

Scary Dreams

Have you ever had that dream, you know, the one where you show up to a final and you realized that haven't even attended one class all semester and don't even know the name of the class. Mine is a little different. I suddenly realize I am in a class and the other students have their books and I only have a duck. Clearly I am unprepared and am up a creek. That is my usual nightmare. Well, my last nightmare is worse. My duck is naked.

Maybe it is the new job. I know a lot about claims but little about how our auditing system works. People are asking me questions as if I know anything about all of this. So like I have done in the past, I pull nicely crafted turds out of my rear end and hope they sound OK. I am telling regional managers why they are wrong. I keep thinking someone is going to call bullshit and I'll be exposed for the fraud that I am.

I presume I will do this like all my other jobs - work hard and figure it out eventually and hope I can fake it until I become competent. It's not a great plan but it is a plan nontheless.

I get to tear apart my front porch on Saturday. I hope to get it back together on the same day. I have a very smart guy from church helping me do it. And when I say helping me, I am actually going to hand him tools and hope to stay out of his way and try to not to get him mad. In the end I will have a new porch and the value of my house will skyrocket. I think that is the key to this economic downturn, shoddy porches. I'm surprised the candidates have not included this in their platform.

I'll blog again when the pup is up again.

Dave

Audit me, No Audit You!!

So here I am three days into being an audit manager. It's so cool. Soooo much power to be mean and petty. I have been very good and benevolent so far. I sense that good feeling will soon disappear. I got to overturn an audit already and I told a regional claims manager that I would not reconsider his request. Fun stuff.

It has been rainy and lame here lately. I have been traveling up to Vancouver, WA (you know , the place where you have to pump your own gas) and the traveling in the rain is totally lame. I have been so used to the wonderful summer weather that I forgot how lame it is to drive in the rain. Oh well, in another 6 months or so it will stop again.

We just finished watching conference. (There's 10 hours I'll never get back - Just kidding) It was good as usual. I still have my little freaky buttons. I wish two things.
1. Please get off the "you must wear a white shirt and tie to pass the sacrament" thing. I wish someone would at least acknowledge that personal worthiness is important, or at least as important as the white shirt. It seems like they only talk about the white shirt, much more than any discussion about personal worthiness.

B. Quit using the phrase "important calling" when you talk about what people do in the church. Jay Jensen mentioned how important it was to give single women "significant" callings in the ward. Please send me a list of which callings are significant and which ones are weenie so I can adjust my attitude accordingly. That expression really chaps my hide, as it were.

So enough of my high horse. At least I got to watch in my jammies. In fact "watching" conference is a strong term for what I did this morning. I napped through a lot today. I think it still counts but I missed a lot. I find when I am in my jammies and have had a good night's rest and I have a blanket, I can sleep no matter what. Especially when older men in dull suits are talking with very little voice inflection and humor that requires highly tunes scientific instruments to detect. Six more months before jammie church again.

Well, enough of this silliness. I get to work from home tomorrow because my counterpart, the one who is training me, is off on a vacation day. I will try to get dressed or I will just sleep the day away.

Woof.