Whew, that completes a ton of EC2 automation and server migration for MindSay. You still may see problems arise as a result of the move – please let me know! We already found and fixed one hilarious profile mix-up bug.
The good news is this should provide more stable long-term hosting for MindSay. A whole ton of everything got upgraded.
With that behind, a bunch happened this week.
On Monday, I went as planned to the local Open Mic night to check it out. I arrived early to the sign-up process and introduced myself. They were nice. My goal was to be a ‘fly on the wall’ and just observe.
There was about 15 musical acts and one comedy act.
Some good stuff. Some okay stuff. One homeless guy singing a country tune about falling off the corporate ladder in silicon valley and sleeping in “motel 22” in reference to the 22 bus line here. It felt a little like he was telling everyone “fuck you” in a way. He seemed tense inside as he put on a chill country man exterior. I could see the tension in his neck and his hands where he grabbed his guitar.
The comedy act was decent enough, but certainly would be a different style from my own.
Anyway, it’s good to have shown face at listen to others perform before asking for my own stage time. I’m glad I behaved and didn’t heckle or otherwise try to inject my own ego into the night. Big ears, little mouth … learned that in AA.
Tuesday, however, was a HOT MESS.
I woke up with the sound of a moving truck right outside my patio, I’m used to it, a lot of people move in & out of this centrally located apartment complex and I’m near a convenient place for movers to unload.
Then I see them pickup a Google Bike and place it in the truck. I immediately overhear another neighbor call to them, “That isn’t a Google Bike, is it?”
Google Bikes are these bikes that Google has provided to litter the City of Mountain View. Only Google Employees can ride them (I talked to one homeless guy that says he was arrested riding one). They are supposed to stay on or near Google property but they end up all over the fucking City. There is usually one or two littered near our complex. There is one in the bushes up the hill right now.
Anyway, you aren’t supposed to ride them or borrow them but people do anyways. But don’t try and fucking steal one. They are painted so clearly everybody knows when you have stolen one.
They load it into the truck, and right then the guy who is moving shows up. Timing was delicious. I confront him.
Without going into details, it was kind of nasty. The man felt that since he paid someone money for it, he was entitled to the stolen property. I let him know that he can do whatever he wants, but if he drives off with the bike in back he will have immediate legal trouble since I have his license plate and will report the theft to Mountain View Police. Doesn’t matter if you bought the bike from someone on Craigslist.
“But you knew it was stolen”
“I didn’t at the time”
“Ah, but you know it is stolen now, and I’m not telling you what to do, but if you drive off with that bike in the back you will be reported.”
Then the movers gave me a hard time. Sucks. Never make someone feel bad for standing up for the Right Thing. What am I, “The Man”? How dare I demand them not steal property!
Anyway, they finally left, leaving the Google Bike next to my patio. I rode it to the street where Google Security can pick it up. (Someone else can call it in.)
Then I got ready to take Midnight to the vet for her first annual checkup. Her first vet visit as it were. I had made an appointment with my old vet, who used to see my kitty cat max. I printed the forms in advance to be prepared. And left plenty of time to find the place.
I still stressed about getting lost, and stressed myself into getting lost. Or just not being able to find the place. No phone these days so no GPS.
In the car, I had one of those PTSD panic attacks everyone on Tumblr likes to talk about. I kept imaging them being really upset, I kept cursing, then apologizing to dog to try and keep her chill before the appointment.
I end up being 20 minutes and I apologize profusely. They end up being pretty upset just as I imagined.
I barely want to write about it. The doctor gave me shit for not wanting to do unnecessary tests, like, I’m keeping her up to date on vaccines and you just told me she is in perfect health, so don’t make me look like a bad pet owner because I don’t want pay for everything you can think of? And this $28/month flea pill thing, no thanks. They do this on purpose, they use your emotions to get you to buy services. There is no limit to how many tests they COULD do to prevent things. There is no right or wrong moral choice.
And I told myself if they asked me to pay for anything unexpectedly, I would go home and research it first and learn if it is worth the cost – especially since I need a follow-up visit in 3 weeks for a vaccine booster.
Anyway, she is in perfect health, healthy weight, and she totally behaved there. She was happy and interested in everything happening. I was able to ask her to lay down and she just laid down on the exam room floor.
Finally, I’m checking out and my nightmare only gets worse: I have forgotten my wallet.
As soon as I breach this news, they give me the worst looks and start treating me like someone that is trying to rip them off. They excuse themselves to find the doctor to discuss the matter. The lady comes back, and takes my folder with Midnight’s medical history. She says I can have it back when I come back with payment.
Don’t remember the last time I felt publicly humiliated like that. There were two other customers right there is the small room with tension building, dogs now barking. I say, “So …. you are going to hold my stuff hostage?”
She says, “Yes … I’m going to … “ looking like she is regretting her word choice, but then needing to probe her confidence, “ yes holding it hostage until you can pay me!”
I just look at her and don’t say a word.
She says, fine, you can take this, and hands me my paperwork. That’s my personal property.
As I left, I reminded them I’ve been a customer for a decade. As soon as I got home I called them with my credit card and paid.
I drove to Jack & The Box and get an Oreo shake and almost cried.
I went shopping at Safeway, then home to prepare for my dinner our with the cute boy. I get to my apartment, and there he is, time had slipped away from me and I’m so late I’m in the middle of doing laundry in my worst possible clothes, sweaty and unshowered, and there boy is all nice clean and dressed fancy. (I had requested a fancy meal out … fuh.)
It was like all the day’s problems cascaded.
Dinner out was nice. Took some time to come down and chill.
Like, I’ve been trying SO HARD lately and man you sometimes keep getting punches nonetheless.
Right now I’m teaching the dog the difference between “go get my hat” and “go get my shoe”. It is a demonstration in comedy. Can’t help but laugh as I say, “Get my hat” and she not only grabs the shoe, but grabs the shoe and starts to run around the room 6 times in frustration and jest. Neighbors must think I’m mad. Well, I am a bit.