nevertheless

the initial configs

2008-12-03T21:34:00.004-06:00

I just finished my first Linux post, but I wanted to get this stuff out before it was forgotten. Technical details...

I installed with the wrong hostname. I used olly when I should've used sifl. Tsk tsk. Anyway, I knew there was a way to change my hostname. I also knew that the bare hostname command wouldn't be permanent. I googled and found that, on Ubuntu at least, all I needed was to edit /etc/hostname and "restart" the "service." This was done by issuing the command

/etc/init.d/hostname.sh start

There really isn't a service. Not that I can see, at least. And nothing happens if you attempt to "stop" it. That script just seems to set the HOSTNAME environment variable. It's called automagically on startup through the S02hostname.sh service file listed in my /etc/rc#.d directories. Odd thing though: once I changed it, I couldn't launch new terminals in X. I'm not sure I could launch any new applications, actually. Strange, dontcha think? Well, a short robot fixed it. That would be a "reboot" to all of you not speaking e-craziness right now. An X restart probably would have as well.

And VNC. There is nothing called VNC here. I decided that "Remote Desktop" was layman for VNC, so I enabled that under the Preference menu. After opening a port on my router/firewall, I was able to connect from work. I was not, however, able to see anything. I even asked cep (over IM) if my computer seemed to be functioning correctly. It was, so I was baffled. Upon returning home this evening, I realized that a request prompt was waiting for me. "Do you want to allow remote desktop access from this address?" or something similar. Yes. Yes, I do. The remedy was unchecking "Ask you for confirmation" in the Remote Desktop preferences dialog. Pretty simple and easily tested. Slow though. Hopefully that won't be an issue.

the linux blog

2008-12-03T21:33:00.000-06:00

So I took the plunge. Again. I installed Linux on my desktop, and it's soon to be the sole bootable OS on my desktop computer. I went with Ubuntu because I've heard good things. I also like their versioning strategy.

The experience was amazing, let me say that much.

Upon inserting the CD into my computer, a Windows auto-run application popped up notifying me of three options: 1. restart to demo and install, 2. install like a Windows application but with some limited functionality, 3. learn more about Linux. While installing within Windows sounded interesting, I knew that I would want hibernation and a native disk interface, so I chose Option 1.

After rebooting I had a fully functional, albeit slow-as-poop-because-everything-is-loaded-from-CD, Linux system. I played around with it a bit in this state. I figured out the wireless connection, checked out a sweet disk utilization app, and even repartitioned my desired Linux drive all from inside this "demo." But alas, slow was unacceptable. Holding my breath, I double clicked the "Install" icon which was so conveniently placed on my beautiful brown-paper-bag-with-coffee-ring desktop. No, honestly, it's really pretty.

I was asked a few standard questions. What time zone are you in? What keyboard layout do you have? That sort of stuff. Then I was asked where I wanted to install. This part was pretty slick. The installer suggested that I resize my existing Windows XP partition and install Linux in the remaining space. I was amazed. The last time I ran Linux full time, the NTFS kernel modules were listed as "experimental." Back then you could try reading NTFS, but it seemed dangerous to write to it, not to even mention resizing it. I didn't need this option, however, because I was all ready with a separate hard disk for Linux. It was amazing nonetheless.

I believe the last step in the process floored me. The Ubuntu installer asked if I wanted any of my Windows profiles moved over to Linux. !!! It was willing to transfer my Firefox/IE settings, my documents/music/pictures, my wallpaper, even my XP user logon image all at the click of a few boxes. Talk about great migration options.

So it installed. It took about half an hour, but afterwards things looked just like the demo again, sans "Install" desktop icon. I was back online; I was even being notified of new software updates that are available. What's more, I was notified of hardware drivers that I may or may not want to download, depending on my free-as-in-speech/free-as-in-beer tastes. I stupidly closed this window hoping to jump back to it soon, but the notification went away. Fortunately the message and choices were easily re-found as the Hardware Drivers option of the Administration menu.

So that was my Linux install experience. It was pretty great. I have additional things I want to post here about my Linux travails, but they're more technical, and I'm not sure anyone cares. Bottom line: I installed Linux. I'm using it right now. I feel more... computery, somehow. I just hope cep doesn't get too frustrated with it.

the campaign against

2008-09-10T23:15:00.002-05:00

Sorry, but I had to:

the horror

2008-09-04T15:14:00.000-05:00

I was thinking of posting about Facebook's Terms of Use. Specifically of question is the Term of Use indicating that they can do anything they want with your User Content (pictures, posts, etc.). They can license them for advertising purposes and seemingly don't have to contact you at all. Sure I'm being alarmist, but I've always had that sort of streak. Maybe -- hopefully -- it's not as bad as it looks, but I've heard stories...

Anyway, what I'm actually going to post about is far more grave. Let's not worry about online rights, OK? Life was fine before "online" and life will continue to be fine once it has passed, or once it's so locked down as to become unfashionable (it's probably inevitable at this point). Thai police have ordered shut hundreds of websites that were found objectionable to the current government. Scary, huh? It's worse in Russia, apparently. A staunch anti-Kremlin website owner was arrested by police and shot. In the head. While in police custody.

Honestly, I'm not even going to write about those incidents. I'm not going to write further about those incidents, I mean. We know things are scary all over this world. However, I didn't know they were that scary here, aux États-Unis. Apparently (again, I'm being cautious), presumed protesters of the Republican National Convention had their houses and apartments raided at gun-point by large groups of SWAT team members. Many we handcuffed, some detained, and a few fully arrested and charged. Computer equipment was taken. Warrants existed, but weren't shown in some cases until the end of such incidents. However, no crimes had been committed. This isn't scary, really; it's horrifying. Just go read it.

I'm sure details are missing, and I hope there's another side to this story. If anyone knows it, please please please forward it along. Like I said earlier on, I have this alarmist streak, and I'm quite alarmed right now.

the outlook

2008-08-01T12:50:00.001-05:00

I ran in to Karl in the elevator a few days ago on my way to work. Karl's my neighbor, see, across the hall. For weeks now he's had this rather large back brace on, and he's been walking with a cane. He walks with a bit of a limp, and it looks like there's still some residual pain creeping into his face from ... something. cep and I think he had an auto accident or something, but we're too embarrassed to ask (or pry, as the case may be). He was getting into the elevator with his high-school-aged son when I asked him how he was. His reply was simple:

He's going to camp, I'm going to work, and my wife's going to the farmer's market, so life can't be that bad.

"Life can't be that bad." Amazing. I had to call cep immediately. She needed to hear this message. She's in Vermont right now, mourning, but I think it helped. I think a message like that, an outlook so humble and hopeful, should always be able to help.

the haus

2008-06-22T16:49:00.002-05:00

This weekend I attended Dudes' Weekend. Yes, the name is corny, but bear with me. My junior and senior years of college I lived with 6 guys in a house on Green Street in Urbana. It was Haus, as we called it. I couldn't have desired any more from my living accomodations those years. Anyway, these ex-housemates of mine occasionally have these weekends that are Guys Only. At least one significant other wanted to join us this weekend, but it was not to be. During these weekends we do simple stuff, much like we did in college. We play video games, watch movies, drink, play video games, play volleyball, and drink. Highlights this time around included volleyball on North Ave. beach in the rain, 7+ hours of Catan, and 6 Flaming Jesuses (ironically JC didn't partake).

It was all well. It was all good. Yes, both. However, I'm not sure it's worth a blog post. However:

I was falling asleep on Friday night. It was well after Saturday had officially begun, after half of the Catan, after many beers, and after honestly too many video games. I had the carpeted living room floor and my cozy sleeping bag and my comfy pillow, but I also had this odd feeling about me. I looked down the hallway to people finalizing their sleeping arrangements, finishing their end-of-day hygeine rituals, generally just wrapping up the night. I was back in Haus. We had seven guys--six of which were not yet falling asleep--carrying on three or four conversions across four different rooms. It was this moment of peace that I haven't felt in such a long time. My life is normally pretty peaceful, don't get me wrong. It was just this other type of peace, a younger, less adult peace, which carried me off to sleep. We had few cares in the world this weekend, and it brought me back to 2001 so fully as to be eerie at the same time. Our group sometimes has its personality flaws, it sometimes has its disagreements, it sometimes has its misgivings, but I couldn't have desired a better bunch of friends, and I thank them all for coming out to take part.

the digital mess

2008-06-18T12:32:00.005-05:00

Our digital lives are a mess. No, that's wrong. Collectively they are messes, multiple, more than two even. I've started the cleanup process numerous times, but it's never quite important enough to complete. It's certainly never fun enough. Yesterday, cep took it upon herself to start cleaning up her digital lives. She started with attacking her computer's nether-recesses and ended with old Zip disks.

She found many interesting pieces of "nostalgia" along with some oddities, most of it from college. She discovered old papers, prop lists, lighting diagrams, correspondence, etc. She got rid of a lot, but she still feels attached to some of it. I think her favorites were her rough drafts of college papers. She, apparently, wrote first drafts in a stream-of-consciousness paragraph format. To get to the final draft, she would cut up the snippets and rearrange them on her living room floor. This provided no end of hilarity for her roommate at the time.

The strangest find of all was a packing list. An Excel file was retrieved that included close to 100 lines of Book Title, Author's First Name, Author's Last Name, and Box # (1, 2, or 3). Yes, this was an OCD packing list. It was not, however, our packing list. It was created by an old acquaintance of mine from my French classes at Alliance Français. I haven't seen the woman in at least 2 years. I certainly have no idea how we came into possession of her packing list. Our best guess includes an e-mail with an incorrect attachment that was received from cep's i-Mac. cep's final word: "You really shouldn't pack that many books in your boxes. You'll never be able to lift them!"

My favorite find of hers was our courtship. Well, she found the first 2 days of it, at least.

We met online, for any out there that don't know. The SpringStreet dating network served numerous hip and edgy websites back then. We had both been trying it out for a while, but I had practically given up in favor of the new-at-the-time (and free) Friendster. I filled out my last profile questionnaire with an essay. None of the words matched the questions, but it all flowed together rather nicely from bits of work I had written previously, cep-style perhaps. I meant to save it, but who knows if I did (see paragraph 1, re: mess). cep managed to find it. She also managed to find our "response profiles," if I can call them that. She created a profile in response to my essay, and I created a profile in response to her response. On the third day we met on the corner of Halsted and Belmont. The rest is history, I guess.

Some of the writing was quite witty. I almost forgot that we could do that. It's easy to see how I fell for her based on those passages, but I can see now how she fell for me as well. I don't exactly remember writing those words in such a playfully swaggering way, but that's what I see in them now. I see that in a lot of what I used to write, as I re-read some entries in my first blog this morning as well. I guess that's why I started this up again, as a test. cep has taken to this body of water much better than I so far. I hope I can still swim.

the other one in the couple

2008-05-29T13:20:00.000-05:00

Last Thursday I cooked. It wasn't much, most of it was prepared ahead of time, and not everything tasted great, but I still cooked.

Cooking isn't that out of the ordinary for me, but since we started having these dinner parties, I hadn't. Normally cep would create this and that and the other thing while I would chop and mix and serve and clean. However, just last week we started a rotation of themed dinners. Of the two themes we drew, "the other one in the couple" sounded miles more interesting than "tex-mex," so I swallowed my pride and made some food for our small-ish party of 6 (with cep doing the helping this time).

My first "course" was bruschetta. I've made this many times before and many times better before, but I needed something quick that wouldn't leave people hungry early-on. I also tried to dress it up with some fancy plating, but "fancy plating" only goes so far when I'm producing it.

The main meal was our super-garlicy spaghetti. Crescent Dragonwagon (originally "Ellen Zolotow") has this amazing recipe that has even forced my father to reach for more heat-reducing baguette. Again, it's simple: throw X things in a food processor, boil some pasta, voila! Surprisingly, I enjoyed this just as much as the many times cep has made it. I'm thankful that our friends like garlic as much as we do, for I believe we were all still breathing it the next day.

The part of the dinner that I'm most proud of is dessert. I don't bake. I can't even pretend that I bake. I believe I've made both cookies and cornbread, both from mixes, so I really wanted to outdo myself (and others' expectations) this time. Cannolis. Sure, they weren't traditional, but I'm still sure my late grandmother would've been proud. Again with cep's help, I made cannoli shells from pizelles and a white chocolate mousse that everyone could eat. The most competent baker at the table even complimented them. It only took 4 straight nights prior getting the recipes worked out, a little crushed pistachio, and some chocolate chips before people were happy. I thought a vegan cannoli filling would've been interesting, but it never set and tasted almost exactly like the 2 cups of powdered sugar that went into it (surprise surprise).

The end of the night found both Dan and I winning rounds of Zombie Fluxx, a new game that Ian insists must come out again around Halloween. How odd is that? I won? And Dan? Craziness! It just proves that it was a night to surpass expectations all around.

the 5-year cluster

2008-05-28T12:49:00.000-05:00

This past weekend saw cep and I attend her college reunion à la Oberlin. I had never visited, so it was a great opportunity for me to get acquainted with the school and those people she still cares about from her time there. The grounds were beautiful, though a part of that was apparently due to the mass planting effort that always happens during the week preceding the commencement and reunion festivities (yes, they happen on the same weekend). All the people I met were really nice and welcoming, though most found it hard to believe any non-alum was game enough to attend. It's already hard to remember all the fun moments from the weekend, so I've listed most of them below.

Locations visited: Science Center / South, cep's sophomore dorm / Tappan Square, the quad / Bead Paradise, a women's clothier etc. / the college bookstore (actually a Barnes and Noble branch now) / Ginkgo Gallery / Uncommon Objects, the FAVA store / Hall Auditorium / Old "B", properly Old Barrows, a co-op that might be shutting down soon / King / Warner, the theater building / 'Sco at Wilder, the club in the basement of the student union / "the arb" (-oretum) / Mudd, the library

Food/drink consumed at/from: The Mandarin, Chinese take-out / Gibson's, a bakery-plus / JavaZone, a coffee-breakfast-shop / Tank, a co-op / Yesterday's Ice Cream (because Miller's was renovating) / The Feve, one of only two bars in town / Jen's house / Weia Teia, fancy asian / Stevenson, "fancy" dinner at dining hall == painful / Quick and Delicious, a greasy-spoon / Oberlin Market

Activities accomplished: Tappan trees / whole wheat donuts / missing Giant 3-Way Plug / weeping beech / bee tree / chased a raccoon into the sewer / echo spot / womb chairs / fish tree / Illumination / tots at The Feve

New people met: Tracey, Jonathan / Sarah, Anne, Mooch, Asher/ (Ellie's) Josh / Ellen / Amy, Lilly, Chloe, Lydia / Staab, Jess, Catherine / JoEllen, Texas Jess, Katya / Abby / Jen, Chris, Tamar, Ann plus family, Keith, Val / Eric, Yoko / Maria, our waitress / ABJ, Kia / Sensei (Ron) / Mike, Connie, other associated Grubes

every saga has a beginning

2008-05-19T21:35:00.000-05:00

I wondered about doing this again, blogging. Some out there may remember my first attempt. Someone (and I do mean one) may also remember my second. They were OK. They were fun while they lasted, but they served a purpose I didn't have. Oddly enough, I'm not even sure what my purpose now is. I told myself I would start blogging at my twenty-ninth birthday, and I just missed it.

What will I write about? What will I say? What will be the weather at the next Chicago Fire game I attend? No One Knows. I'll try to be here writing, saying, attending, nevertheless.