Almost home

I drove north on 101 yesterday, three hours on the gorgeous stretch from San Luis Obispo through Salinas. The temperature was in the 90s and the road was mostly empty. I played Astaire and Metric on the radio and my husband and I alternated the a/c on, off, on, off according to whim. My husband read me real estate ads from the Central Coast Homes and Land magazine: 280 acres of rolling hill country with expansive views and hundred year old oaks; 150 acres lakeside. "Now that's worth one-point-five million," I said reflectively. Could I give up tech and switch to farming, or would I get bored?

And as we drove on, as the lush green around San Luis flowed into the harsher hills north of Paso and the afternoon winds kicked in around King City, it occurred to me that perhaps I haven't bought a home because in many ways I already have one. On long drives it stretches out in front of me, graceful in black pavement with a yellow line down the middle, and I rarely feel better than when I have a full tank of gas and a suitcase in the trunk. Could I settle to just one view, no matter how expansive, or am I better off leaving my options open as I have done so far?

Observational skills

People who have noticed that I lopped off my hair:

Women: 7 (including one woman who I haven't otherwise interacted with in maybe 4 months)

Men: 1

And due to the way my Wednesday meetings are set up, I've seen a bunch more men than women today.

Hmmmm......

The most I've ever paid for gas

I don't know if you can read the receipt in the photo, but it says $51 and change. This is the first time I've broken the $50 barrier, so I'm commemorating the event (in horror) here.

Starting to seem real

For the past week or so the whole "new job" (albeit at the same company) prospect has been sneaking up on me: a conversation here, an email there, a "how's it going?" or a "good luck!" spoken with particular intent.

But it didn't really seem real until I started putting together my resume. I've got mixed feelings about this: creating a resume is a lot less emotionally scary than it used to be. If there's one thing I know how to do, it's gather & format data. On the the other hand, there's so much data involved that I started a stack of sticky-notes just to keep track of all the places I should look. Imagine: I've been here for almost 5 years. I've worked on 2 teams in 11 buildings and when I made a list of everything I did last quarter it was a full page long. I've been gathering information - just gathering it, not thinking about whether I should include it or how to present or format it or anything like that - for the past two hours.

I have no idea what to think about this. I'm kind of amazed. And I'm kind of excited. And I'm kind of curious to see how it all turns out.

Up to bat

This morning I met again with the head of the team I want to join. "Is there any news on my transferring in?" I asked. "Sorry to push; it keeps coming up."

"I know I know!" he said. "There's some good news, and some things I still don't know. I got my boss to write a recommendation for you, which may help but I don't know how much. It has worked at least once in the past. I should let you know you shouldn't get your hopes up. I put your name in for the first step, but ... wait a second, we may be able to get some real-time feedback." He paused to type something into a chat window. I fiddled with a sticky note.

"Right!" he said. "As of ... twenty-five seconds ago, you're officially in the process. Start thinking about who you want your internal references to be."

And then we went back to business as usual: what's launching, and what's planned, and why, and what we need to do about it.

Tax-induced grouchiness

Why, why, WHY does the AMT require an entirely separate set of calculations than normal taxes?! WHY?! Isn't it bad enough that we live in one of the very few places in the US where real estate is still so expensive that my "I could support a four-person family on this anywhere else in the country" salary here requires two incomes to cover renting? And on top of this I have to CALCULATE MY TAXES TWICE!??! And pay more in Federal taxes simply because California has a high state tax rate?!!!?? And pay more because I'm MARRIED?!

Bastards.

I got TWO HOURS of sleep last night, and I blame the Feds. Grrrr.

Why San Francisco is hilarious

The greatest quote ever for a human rights event:

We already have a quorum for a nude torch run to happen after the official run. We are inviting you and your nude friends to join us. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to make an indelible statement for human rights.

I translate this as, "Hey! A chance to get naked! And oh yeah, human rights are important! C'mon NAKED, baby, NAKED!!!"

The current temperature in SF is 51°F (Cloudy). I hope they have a fabulous time :)

Evil poison death gas

Last year, the termites in the garage conducted a heavy attack on a couple of C's books that were boxed up in the garage. The termites went straight through the covers and on into the pages. They were embedded (like reporters in Iraq? They certainly faced instant death once we found them.).

Ewwww.

I previously thought that termites were small and hard to notice. I was wrong. They're maybe 3/4" long. They're brown and shiny, and when they die, their wings fall off and drift down onto whatever's underneath them: some bikes, some books, a drill, a box of sandpaper, some furniture... the usual garage stuff.

When the termites ate the books we decided it was time to do something. We called the property management co; they sent out an inspector. The inspector said, "yup, termites." (We could have told them that). And after the holidays, and some confusion, and so on, we finally got the house scheduled to be tented.

Then we read up on the chemicals that would be blown into the house to kill the termites. And we realized there weren't really any good non-scary solutions that we could find.

So we moved out C's books. And most of both our clothes. And all the food in the kitchen. And the cast iron griddle, because it's porous. And all the wooden spatulas, for the same reason. And the seeds I've been meaning to plant. And the cushions & slipcovers from the furniture. And the comforters and blankets from the bed & linen closet.

And we picked all the lemons, so they wouldn't be within reach of the fumes (the only upside here is that B. still owes me lemon bars).

And we went to stay in my in-laws' guest cottage (thank you!) which is only a few minutes away from our own house, so not too much of a hassle.

And I pulled off all the weatherstripping we added last winter, so that our house would once again leak like a sieve, letting fresh air in and (I hope) helping the gas dissipate.

And I decided I wasn't going back in that house until a full four extra nights after it was officially cleared for safety by the termite-tenters, because that will give the gas still more time to get the hell out.

And I'm still trying not to think too hard about chemical half-lives and rates of dissipation and all of that, because the air has been tested and it's OK, and tenting is normal, and this chemical has been in use for sixty years, and one version of it is used on food for crying out loud, and I'm sure half the buildings I've lived in have been tented, and this is normal, and there isn't any other good solution.

But why isn't there?

This is why I'm not even trying to work for Facebook

Facebook is getting a lot of buzz around Silicon Valley lately: it's in the news, it's on people's blogs, I keep getting invites, blah blah blah.

And yet so far I haven't even attempted to get a job there. It comes up every so often as a "would you ever" kind of thing, and my stock line is, "well, it's walking distance to my house, which would be nice, and they give you an extra $600 a month if you commute on foot, which would also be nice, but yeah, I just don't get it. I think I'm too old!" Whoever I'm talking to laughs, and I laugh, and we get on with whatever we have to be getting on with.

This morning, however, I am justified! Ha! And here's the title that tells me I'm not a complete idiot for passing up the not-yet-public, run-by-a-23-year-old, highly-visible startup that would let me multi-task my exercise with my commute:
Facebook-for-Profit Apps Echo with Sound of Silence

Enjoy! And cross your fingers for me that two or three years from now I'm not wishing I'd made the move.