My Xbox 360 console has the Red Ring of Death. ..Again.
And people wonder what causes some deranged lunatic to go on a shooting rampage from the top of a water tower. Well, I can tell you. She was perfectly normal yesterday. But she's been on hold with MS tech support for 2 hours at a stretch, several times over, repeating the same litany of "yes, it's plugged in. yes, there's a disk in it. yes, it's connected over wifi. no, it's showing 4 red rings on the front, around the power button, where green rings should be. yes, it's plugged in. No, there's nothing blocking the vent holes - i've got it suspended in a climate-controlled space at the middle of the room using an elaborate anti-gravity field with... yes, it's plugged in. yes, there's power in my house; listen, hear that? I'm popping popcorn as we speak... yes, i have turned it off, waited 20 seconds and turned it back on... yes, I've tried sacrificing a chicken... no, not a polish chicken; hold on... [chicken noises...] ... no, that didn't work either... no, i didn't try it while standing on my head... oh, on the chicken's head?
...and has finally sent her Xbox back to them. They returned it "repaired," and it worked for a few months, but then it started to tease her. It started employing what can only be seen as quite sadistic torture patterns of working, then freezing, then working, then shutting down at random, then refusing to shut down at random... then, to climax, first one red bar, then two... then three... then... ...
After waiting several hours to talk to someone at tech support, finally "Rijad" explains that we can send the box in again, and they'll fix it again. The box will be gone from 2 to 3 months. Note: Months. And this is right around the Xmas holiday, during which I've already gleaned that my main gifts will be two 360 games that I've wanted. Irony galore there...
Especially note that, the last time, I was fairly sure that I hadn't gotten my own box back. This seemed strange to me, so I mentioned it. "Oh, no, of course you won't get your same machine back," I am informed, as though it should be obvious and I should feel the fool for even suggesting otherwise.
"We take machines in for refurbish and send them back out. It's more of an assembly line, like first-in-first-out, and the boxes aren't tracked that far. But you will receive a working console."
I clean my console regularly. I know the air blows some undesirable matter into the vents, and I routinely wipe the console down and blow it out. Plus, you know, it's been marked with my scent - the aura of my home; something sort of jasminey and rosey and with a hint of feminine musk. You're telling me that I'm sending you a nice, clean box that's "mine!" and you'll send me back some "fixed" but potentially janky machine that smells faintly of underage testosterone and Doritos, that who knows who's kid has sneezed into or pried open the disk tray with peanut-butter fingers, after wiping their nose, or god knows what. Yeah, thank you for that. Shall I just go ahead and wrap it in plastic right now so that when the FBI comes looking for DNA from "secretions" I haven't compromised any evidence? The last time I "got it back" i spent the whole first day cleaning the "use" out of the grain of the case - this was a major tipoff that you hadn't sent me my original box. That really hurt my opinion of you, any fantasy I'd had about your capacity to care about me, your customer, and any credibility I'd been harbouring for you in my mind.
Wouldn't have been nearly so bad if I wasn't completely aware that I'd surely had this to look forward to again, since the reports showed that... hold on, I get pretty angry and emotional at this point...
Let's breathe slowly a few times here...
The @$#*(*$% Microsoft Fiasco
Microsoft knew *before the first unit was relesaed* that up to 1 in 3 of the XBoxes coming off the assembly line were defective. The heat sinks on the motherboard were inadequate and would fail under normal operating conditions most of the time, leading to warped motherboards. Inferior welding and contacts, used because they were cheaper. And you *knew* this, even before production. Did you think I (*the public) was that stupid?
Let's pause to fully absorb this point, because it is very important. **Microsoft knew that up to 30% - one in three customers - were paying $200 to $300 for a product that was highly likely to fail catastrophically due to a known defect in production. This wasn't a calculated risk based on marginal results of "something *might* go wrong." There was the *clear and irrefutable evidence* that 1 out of every 3 machines coming off the line were catastrophically defective, and could be expected to last at most a few months each. Product for which users were going to pay upward of $300 and which MS knew was worth exactly dick. What would an ethical company do upon learning of such a bad defect? An ethical company would halt production, find the cause of the problem, and solve it in the production chain before resuming business activities. Of course, Microsoft did not do that.
Microsoft took the gamble that most of the world's gamers are non-confrontational enough to let it slide. That people will discover the flaw, but will be too logical and pragmatic to think it could have been intentional, and MS would be forgiven for this transgression. That most people would swallow the "oops" statements as fact and allow this bit of a controversy to be swept under the rug by their ample PR firm, until the quality of games on the platform made up for it. And that happened, to some degree.
Meanwhile, I sit as one of 6 people who can't even make the damned console work. Looks like I'm back to my Intellivision for the holidays. At least that's never failed me.
20 November 2009
05 November 2008
Obama in '08 - Yes we can
It's 12:30am on 5 Nov, 2008; I'm gazing up at a stained glass ceiling and admiring the view.
I just went out on my porch and, coming in again, it occurred to me that the first time my front door was used, the civil war was barely over, women weren't allowed to vote, and the thought of a black man in any kind of office was laughable. Such an odd thing - my hand felt strange against the doorknob.
It's the dawn of a very good day.
I just went out on my porch and, coming in again, it occurred to me that the first time my front door was used, the civil war was barely over, women weren't allowed to vote, and the thought of a black man in any kind of office was laughable. Such an odd thing - my hand felt strange against the doorknob.
It's the dawn of a very good day.
10 September 2008
A (Very) Disapproving Rabbit
So, I'm normally not into promoting other people's stuff, being so arrogant as to think that my stuff must always be better, but here's something quite cool: Disapproving Rabbits.
I, myself, have a house rabbit, and can attest that she can be quite disapproving. But given my typical (ahem) scientific nature, I'd rather explain my theory on the nature of this supposed apathetic bunniness and put forward a commentary on it's societal impact, as well as a sort of call to bunny-arms.
First, let's get one thing straight: a rabbit is not a rodent - it's actually most closely related to the llama. Yes, I said llama. Rabbits belong to the order Lagomorpha, which was properly identified in the early 1900s. They share several characteristics with rodents, including their ridiculously-long growing incisors - but beyond these superficial similarities, most owners of both rabbits and rodents will attest that they are very different.
Before I became caretaker to rabbits, I always fancied them like a hamster or a rat - similar in temperament and intelligence... not to slight them, but I never held rabbits on the same intellectional/emotional shelf as cats or dogs. How wrong I was! I think Abigael will always dissaprove of me for that.
Rabbits are actually quite sophisticated creatures, each with his/her own distinct personality, likes and dislikes, routines, etc. My Abigael, for example, is quite the diva - and not only mildly disapproves, but is sometimes downright disdainful. She has elevated The Cold Shoulder to an art form: she'll turn her back on you, then look over her shoulder to make sure you're watching... look away, thump very loudly twice, look back to make sure you're watching... a few more thumps... a quick shift to make sure her back is squarely to you...
I've encountered nothing so simultaneously condescending and adorable.
I'm not being entirely fair, though - rabbits can also be very affectionate and snorgling. Say "bunny kiss?" and Abigael will almost always be on your nose with her soft bunny tongue (unless you're already getting The Cold Shoulder). My Lizbeth was never happier than when neatly fitted into that perfectly-sized bunny nook formed by your thighs when you sit Native-American style on the floor.
So... how do you know when a rabbit is happy?
Well, they purr. It's not a traditional purr, but it means all the same things as when a cat does it: either lots of happiness or lots of pain. To "purr," bunnies rhythmically grind their teeth. Weird, eh?
Given her relation to llamas, as long as she's not spitting on me, I find my rabbit to be very approving indeed (no, she doesn't actually spit on me). So why does she seem so very disapproving?
I think it's mostly in the eyes.
For one thing, rabbits being classic prey animals and us being classicly predatory, the shape of their face doesn't speak to us. Looking straight on, a bunny face, with the eyes set on the side of the head, gives us a face full of nose and mouth - those least expressive and hypermechanical organs which artists emphasise when they want to heighten disdain and a lack of sympathy in their subjects (think political cartooning). We want eyes. Frontal, expressive eyes, which give us our window to a kindred soul.
But then even from the side, rabbit eyes aren't expressive to us. To our predator's instincts, we see the eyes of prey - seemingly cold and unresponsive. Partly this is because the whites are mostly hidden so there's not a lot of movement in them; really it's because rabbits are prey animals. This is our hard-wired instinct, which helps us to survive by separating our predatory instincts from our protective or empathetic instincts, and which has evolved over millions of years of a hunter/gatherer lifestyle to give us a willingness to eat cows but be repulsed by the idea of eating, say, dogs. Most of the animals we've chosen as companions are natural predators: cats, dogs, rats, birds... we understand them and anthropomorphise them easily. Rabbits are more of a challenge - we see them as very cute, but the anthropomorphisation is a bit clunky. Thus, in their asymmetrical cuteness, they seem disapproving.
What does this mean for us and the rabbit? Well, they haven't got quite the foothold that cats and dogs have in our lives, but they're gaining. And rightly so - a house rabbit is a wonderful companion, far more intelligent and caring than we've accredited them in our social circles, and, in their quirky way, right up there with cats as a meaningful pet. Having lived with house bunnies, I do hope they start catching on. They're easily litter trained, can be walked on a harness (with patience), and can even learn tricks. And, really , they're simply adorable.
Be sure to check out Disapproving Rabbits for some fun pix, videos, and a skootch of bunny education.
Also check out my Abbi's spot at Bunspace - she won't disapprove.
I, myself, have a house rabbit, and can attest that she can be quite disapproving. But given my typical (ahem) scientific nature, I'd rather explain my theory on the nature of this supposed apathetic bunniness and put forward a commentary on it's societal impact, as well as a sort of call to bunny-arms.
First, let's get one thing straight: a rabbit is not a rodent - it's actually most closely related to the llama. Yes, I said llama. Rabbits belong to the order Lagomorpha, which was properly identified in the early 1900s. They share several characteristics with rodents, including their ridiculously-long growing incisors - but beyond these superficial similarities, most owners of both rabbits and rodents will attest that they are very different.
Before I became caretaker to rabbits, I always fancied them like a hamster or a rat - similar in temperament and intelligence... not to slight them, but I never held rabbits on the same intellectional/emotional shelf as cats or dogs. How wrong I was! I think Abigael will always dissaprove of me for that.
Rabbits are actually quite sophisticated creatures, each with his/her own distinct personality, likes and dislikes, routines, etc. My Abigael, for example, is quite the diva - and not only mildly disapproves, but is sometimes downright disdainful. She has elevated The Cold Shoulder to an art form: she'll turn her back on you, then look over her shoulder to make sure you're watching... look away, thump very loudly twice, look back to make sure you're watching... a few more thumps... a quick shift to make sure her back is squarely to you...
I've encountered nothing so simultaneously condescending and adorable.
I'm not being entirely fair, though - rabbits can also be very affectionate and snorgling. Say "bunny kiss?" and Abigael will almost always be on your nose with her soft bunny tongue (unless you're already getting The Cold Shoulder). My Lizbeth was never happier than when neatly fitted into that perfectly-sized bunny nook formed by your thighs when you sit Native-American style on the floor.
So... how do you know when a rabbit is happy?
Well, they purr. It's not a traditional purr, but it means all the same things as when a cat does it: either lots of happiness or lots of pain. To "purr," bunnies rhythmically grind their teeth. Weird, eh?
Given her relation to llamas, as long as she's not spitting on me, I find my rabbit to be very approving indeed (no, she doesn't actually spit on me). So why does she seem so very disapproving?
I think it's mostly in the eyes.
For one thing, rabbits being classic prey animals and us being classicly predatory, the shape of their face doesn't speak to us. Looking straight on, a bunny face, with the eyes set on the side of the head, gives us a face full of nose and mouth - those least expressive and hypermechanical organs which artists emphasise when they want to heighten disdain and a lack of sympathy in their subjects (think political cartooning). We want eyes. Frontal, expressive eyes, which give us our window to a kindred soul.
But then even from the side, rabbit eyes aren't expressive to us. To our predator's instincts, we see the eyes of prey - seemingly cold and unresponsive. Partly this is because the whites are mostly hidden so there's not a lot of movement in them; really it's because rabbits are prey animals. This is our hard-wired instinct, which helps us to survive by separating our predatory instincts from our protective or empathetic instincts, and which has evolved over millions of years of a hunter/gatherer lifestyle to give us a willingness to eat cows but be repulsed by the idea of eating, say, dogs. Most of the animals we've chosen as companions are natural predators: cats, dogs, rats, birds... we understand them and anthropomorphise them easily. Rabbits are more of a challenge - we see them as very cute, but the anthropomorphisation is a bit clunky. Thus, in their asymmetrical cuteness, they seem disapproving.
What does this mean for us and the rabbit? Well, they haven't got quite the foothold that cats and dogs have in our lives, but they're gaining. And rightly so - a house rabbit is a wonderful companion, far more intelligent and caring than we've accredited them in our social circles, and, in their quirky way, right up there with cats as a meaningful pet. Having lived with house bunnies, I do hope they start catching on. They're easily litter trained, can be walked on a harness (with patience), and can even learn tricks. And, really , they're simply adorable.
Be sure to check out Disapproving Rabbits for some fun pix, videos, and a skootch of bunny education.
Also check out my Abbi's spot at Bunspace - she won't disapprove.
07 January 2008
Warming me, warming you
It's 7 January and I've just come in from having a smoke, in Michigan, and getting pelted by... rain???
And thunder, and lightning. And a flood watch.
Um, wow.
So maybe it's happened before, but not in my lifetime. My 9 year old son mentioned that this is odd, and he's no meteorologist.
It's been a few days now. Let's see how long this continues. I'm not buying bibles yet, but I have to admit that this is strange.
Stay tuned while I check my supplies of bottled water and canned peas...
11:40pm
I have enough peas.
The rain has stopped. Last time I went out, I thought I heard frogs. That's a Sign of the Apocolypse, right? Or is it undead trumpeters? Hmm...
Maybe I need to brush up on my Signs of the Apocolypse...
I was out without a jacket, anyhow. I'll maintain my vigil and report more soon.
Signing off, for now.
1:35am
It's not raining right now - the current flood isn't biblical. My peas have lasted so far, and I've not yet turned cannabalistic. Dorian is still alive, and sleeping peacefully.
Not sure what tomorrow will bring. It's still rather warm - around 64 degrees F. Haven't seen satan or jesus yet.
I'll check in again in the morning, if there is one.
Goodbye for now.
And thunder, and lightning. And a flood watch.
Um, wow.
So maybe it's happened before, but not in my lifetime. My 9 year old son mentioned that this is odd, and he's no meteorologist.
It's been a few days now. Let's see how long this continues. I'm not buying bibles yet, but I have to admit that this is strange.
Stay tuned while I check my supplies of bottled water and canned peas...
11:40pm
I have enough peas.
The rain has stopped. Last time I went out, I thought I heard frogs. That's a Sign of the Apocolypse, right? Or is it undead trumpeters? Hmm...
Maybe I need to brush up on my Signs of the Apocolypse...
I was out without a jacket, anyhow. I'll maintain my vigil and report more soon.
Signing off, for now.
1:35am
It's not raining right now - the current flood isn't biblical. My peas have lasted so far, and I've not yet turned cannabalistic. Dorian is still alive, and sleeping peacefully.
Not sure what tomorrow will bring. It's still rather warm - around 64 degrees F. Haven't seen satan or jesus yet.
I'll check in again in the morning, if there is one.
Goodbye for now.
02 August 2007
Learning to SCUBA (to pee or not to pee...)
Ah, the untamed sea. Such a beautiful and hostile enchantress; at once welcoming and forbidding, familiar and alien, enticing and its antonym.
I, humble woman of <cough> years and life-long land-dweller, have begun my journey into her dark and mysterious lair, to witness the beauty of Earth's aquatic denizens, to follow the lamp-light of Jacques Cousteau, to (hopefully) avoid the locker of Davy Jones...
Yeah, I'm learning to scuba dive. And I'm very excited. And I've been researching like mad (because I'm a geek).
So here's the answer to the most important question I've found so far:
To pee or not to pee? Or, is it okay to whiz in your wetsuit?
Actually, most (some say all) divers pee in their wetsuits. Think about it - among the most important things to do while diving, aside from making sure you've got air and know how to breathe it, is to stay hydrated. It's amazingly easy to get dehydrated, resulting in disorientation, exhaustion, and even fainting - which, at depth, can be a bit of a problem. So, of course, you must drink lots of liquids. Those liquids have to go somewhere, and your body has the habit of insisting that you expel them every so often. You must either hold it or have a pee.
Problem is, many resources say that neoprene + urine = disaster. I paid several hundred dollars for my wetsuit. Do I really want to ruin it? And, seriously, I haven't peed myself for most of my adult life - it's rather gross and not very feminine. I'd really rather not, thanks.
But let's look at a real-world scenario:
Let's say I've been hydrating all morning, had a pee at the dock, and because I'm the type of diver that prefers being healthy, I've been sipping from my water bottle off and on from the dock to the dive site. I don my gear, which takes a while, diligently hydrating the whole time. Right before submerging, I have a fair drink for good measure, since I'm gonna be down for a while.
Well, I'm a girl, and girl plumbing seems to be a bit shorter than boys'. About 15 minutes in and a few dozen metres down, my body says it's time to go. I've just come to a magnificent reef of unimaginable splendour, and the sea life is welcoming me in, swimming curious circles about me and practically begging me to explore.
What shall I do? I could bang on my tank and signal my party to surface, rip off my suit on the boat and dash for the nearest loo. This will absolutely have at least two outcomes: I'll probably never find a dive buddy again (at least not without using some questionable substance on them), and I'll likely be lynched - figuratively if I'm lucky.
Or, I could have a go in my suit. Wow, that sounds so very unsavoury. But hang on a minute... How am I gonna enjoy this dive whilst doing the underwater pee-pee ballet? So I spent hundreds on my suit - but I spent thousands on the rest of my gear to allow me to be here, not to mention the plane tickets, hotel, boat fees, etc., etc. just to be down here for this hour or so of bliss...
And is peeing in neoprene really so bad? Actually, as it turns out, no. Well, at least not as long as one observes the proper procedures.
Rinse your suit. Immediately after the dive. Rinse it thoroughly, inside out, in the water outside the boat first - please do this before dropping it into the boat's rinse tub. Seriously, the rest of the group are probably dropping their regulators in there. Um, ew! (Which brings up another point about rinse tubs, ew...) Then rinse in running fresh water as soon as possible.
Wash your suit regularly using wetsuit shampoo. Some people do this in the washing machine - I'm not gonna chance it, personally. A thorough hand-washing will suit me fine. Lots of people love the 500PSI stuff, which is pretty cheap on scuba.com.
An overwhelming number of people report excellent wetsuit shelf-lives by following these simple practises. So, neoprene + urine + proper care = no adverse effects. Remember, uncared-for urine smell never comes out. Never. Add some heat and good luck finding a dive buddy!
Now that we've got the technicals out of the way, on to some wetsuit-peeing tips and etiquette...
Don't pee in a rental suit. It's bad form and outfitters don't like it - some even use a special indicating chemical to rat you out. At best you'll lose face, and at worst you may incur an extra fee.
If you really couldn't help it, be a man and tell them. Neoprene + urine + lack of knowledge about urine always = ruined suit. If the pee isn't rinsed out immediately and promptly washed with shampoo, the smell will never come out. Never. No, really, never.
Try tucking your boots into your suit legs instead of the other way round. This may not be practical in some suits with fancy sealing, but think about water flow and you may see advantages.
Don't pee in someone else's suit, especially not while they're in it. Most people don't like that. Question their sanity if they do.
Some divers claim that peeing in your wetsuit will make you warmer. There's a big controversy here: While this may be true for a few minutes, once outside your body the pee will cool to the same temperature as the rest of the liquid trapped in your suit, making no difference. Some divers go on to claim that, once this happens, the pee will actually have a cooling effect. I don't believe this - unless there's some odd difference in the effect of your body's warming ability on diluted urine vs. whatever random chemicals you're swimming in, once the warming effect wears off, you should return to whatever temperature you were at before. Many cold water divers claim to randomly pee their suits on purpose for the warming effect. Back to the point about the boat rinse tub...
Funny thing, the best advise if you're skittish about peeing in your suit is the most counter-intuitive thing you can think of - drink as much water as possible. You may find wetsuit whizzing to be unavoidable, but if you've been drinking enough, your pee will be quite watered down, weak, and thus much more tolerable.
But what about environmental concerns? Hmm... I've seen a lot of fish - never seen one retiring to the loo. And they don't even wear wetsuits...
Lastly, none of this advise works for a dry suit. Remember, dry suit + urine = really uncomfortable wetsuit.
So, do I pee in my wetsuit? Of course. But mostly while diving, and (sorry, guys) I won't share my pee in the rinse tub.
Like what you see? Digg it!
I, humble woman of <cough> years and life-long land-dweller, have begun my journey into her dark and mysterious lair, to witness the beauty of Earth's aquatic denizens, to follow the lamp-light of Jacques Cousteau, to (hopefully) avoid the locker of Davy Jones...
Yeah, I'm learning to scuba dive. And I'm very excited. And I've been researching like mad (because I'm a geek).
So here's the answer to the most important question I've found so far:
To pee or not to pee? Or, is it okay to whiz in your wetsuit?
Actually, most (some say all) divers pee in their wetsuits. Think about it - among the most important things to do while diving, aside from making sure you've got air and know how to breathe it, is to stay hydrated. It's amazingly easy to get dehydrated, resulting in disorientation, exhaustion, and even fainting - which, at depth, can be a bit of a problem. So, of course, you must drink lots of liquids. Those liquids have to go somewhere, and your body has the habit of insisting that you expel them every so often. You must either hold it or have a pee.
Problem is, many resources say that neoprene + urine = disaster. I paid several hundred dollars for my wetsuit. Do I really want to ruin it? And, seriously, I haven't peed myself for most of my adult life - it's rather gross and not very feminine. I'd really rather not, thanks.
But let's look at a real-world scenario:
Let's say I've been hydrating all morning, had a pee at the dock, and because I'm the type of diver that prefers being healthy, I've been sipping from my water bottle off and on from the dock to the dive site. I don my gear, which takes a while, diligently hydrating the whole time. Right before submerging, I have a fair drink for good measure, since I'm gonna be down for a while.
Well, I'm a girl, and girl plumbing seems to be a bit shorter than boys'. About 15 minutes in and a few dozen metres down, my body says it's time to go. I've just come to a magnificent reef of unimaginable splendour, and the sea life is welcoming me in, swimming curious circles about me and practically begging me to explore.
What shall I do? I could bang on my tank and signal my party to surface, rip off my suit on the boat and dash for the nearest loo. This will absolutely have at least two outcomes: I'll probably never find a dive buddy again (at least not without using some questionable substance on them), and I'll likely be lynched - figuratively if I'm lucky.
Or, I could have a go in my suit. Wow, that sounds so very unsavoury. But hang on a minute... How am I gonna enjoy this dive whilst doing the underwater pee-pee ballet? So I spent hundreds on my suit - but I spent thousands on the rest of my gear to allow me to be here, not to mention the plane tickets, hotel, boat fees, etc., etc. just to be down here for this hour or so of bliss...
And is peeing in neoprene really so bad? Actually, as it turns out, no. Well, at least not as long as one observes the proper procedures.
Rinse your suit. Immediately after the dive. Rinse it thoroughly, inside out, in the water outside the boat first - please do this before dropping it into the boat's rinse tub. Seriously, the rest of the group are probably dropping their regulators in there. Um, ew! (Which brings up another point about rinse tubs, ew...) Then rinse in running fresh water as soon as possible.
Wash your suit regularly using wetsuit shampoo. Some people do this in the washing machine - I'm not gonna chance it, personally. A thorough hand-washing will suit me fine. Lots of people love the 500PSI stuff, which is pretty cheap on scuba.com.
An overwhelming number of people report excellent wetsuit shelf-lives by following these simple practises. So, neoprene + urine + proper care = no adverse effects. Remember, uncared-for urine smell never comes out. Never. Add some heat and good luck finding a dive buddy!
Now that we've got the technicals out of the way, on to some wetsuit-peeing tips and etiquette...
Don't pee in a rental suit. It's bad form and outfitters don't like it - some even use a special indicating chemical to rat you out. At best you'll lose face, and at worst you may incur an extra fee.
If you really couldn't help it, be a man and tell them. Neoprene + urine + lack of knowledge about urine always = ruined suit. If the pee isn't rinsed out immediately and promptly washed with shampoo, the smell will never come out. Never. No, really, never.
Try tucking your boots into your suit legs instead of the other way round. This may not be practical in some suits with fancy sealing, but think about water flow and you may see advantages.
Don't pee in someone else's suit, especially not while they're in it. Most people don't like that. Question their sanity if they do.
Some divers claim that peeing in your wetsuit will make you warmer. There's a big controversy here: While this may be true for a few minutes, once outside your body the pee will cool to the same temperature as the rest of the liquid trapped in your suit, making no difference. Some divers go on to claim that, once this happens, the pee will actually have a cooling effect. I don't believe this - unless there's some odd difference in the effect of your body's warming ability on diluted urine vs. whatever random chemicals you're swimming in, once the warming effect wears off, you should return to whatever temperature you were at before. Many cold water divers claim to randomly pee their suits on purpose for the warming effect. Back to the point about the boat rinse tub...
Funny thing, the best advise if you're skittish about peeing in your suit is the most counter-intuitive thing you can think of - drink as much water as possible. You may find wetsuit whizzing to be unavoidable, but if you've been drinking enough, your pee will be quite watered down, weak, and thus much more tolerable.
But what about environmental concerns? Hmm... I've seen a lot of fish - never seen one retiring to the loo. And they don't even wear wetsuits...
Lastly, none of this advise works for a dry suit. Remember, dry suit + urine = really uncomfortable wetsuit.
So, do I pee in my wetsuit? Of course. But mostly while diving, and (sorry, guys) I won't share my pee in the rinse tub.
My wetsuit of choice: O'Neill 7mm Sector FSW. Hot!
Like what you see? Digg it!
20 April 2007
Yahoo Sucks
No, really.
It should be obvious that I'm not in the habit of blogging (yet) unless something hits me as really important. I'll get there - I'm "old" and from an epoch when this online communication thing hadn't yet been burned into our genes, so I have to actually think and remember to do it. Obviously I must be a milligenarian, so bear with me while I catch up.
But something happened to me tonight that I have to share. I - *gasp* - tried to join a Yahoo group. And I - *clutch chest* - already had a Yahoo account.
The problem was that I - here's the really shocking part - hadn't logged into my account for a while -- specifically (I learned after quite a long time) for more than 90 days. I know. Shame on me. I have something of a life outside of Yahoo's Web site. I should really be shot.
So I had a multi-tiered problem, which got more painful as I went on. Obviously it was an important group or I wouldn't have spent almost two hours trying to join it and figure out why I couldn't. Seriously - who would waste that much time on something that wasn't porn? Okay, so I don't have *much* of a life...
Enter username and password. Error. We all get that. I typed my password wrong, that's all. Retype. Nope - error. Retype again. Error. Okay, maybe my username is wrong, or I've completely forgotten my password. Click the "forgot username/password link." (Let me mention here that the error messages to this point said generally that my username or password must be wrong.)
OMG. Am I trying to access the financials of Fort Knox? It doesn't ask for my username and offer to send my info to the email on file - I have to fill out some big form, supplying my birthdate, email, zip code, and then copy the security code to prove I'm a real human being. This is annoying since I can't imagine why my stupid little Yahoo account is more secure than my online banking account (!!), but whatever. Click Submit.
Here's where it all goes south.
Error. Some soft of error, which the page 'helpfully' informs me will be a problem with either my username, birthdate, email, zip code, or security code. This narrows it down nicely to one of ALL OF THE FIELDS on the form. I'm now in some sadistic elementary school quiz where I have to guess the thing that's wrong. Well, I think my birthday is right...
Submit, error, submit, error. I've eliminated every email I've ever used since 1995. Every zip code I've ever lived in. Finally!!! (No, I'm not logged in...) I've narrowed it down and now my errors point specifically to the security code. Cool. That's the easy one.
Um, no. Now, I'm not a moron. Really. My vision is fine at a fair distance; I set my screen resolution to the highest possible because I often work on a laptop and like to cram as much on my screen as possible. I can see everything fine. I'm not even new to these "type what you see in this janky image" security things. I work in software - I've designed these things, for god's sake.
Ok, it's 9KDruS. Submit.
"The security code was typed wrong, you idiot." (...or some error that essentially means that.)
New code. 3VGQ.
"Are you blind? Or just really stupid? Wrong again." (...or equivalent error.)
New code. YFV7d
"We were testing you. Yeah, it looked like that, but you were supposed to input some other random characters. Try again."
*Sigh* okay, I really want to join this, and I know I have an account:
H6nn7
"Hahaha. We can't believe you're still having a go. You must really be masochistic."
24OQgs
"We're going to be laughing at you for weeks in our morning meetings. 'So there was this one user that just kept trying this thing...'"
Alright, I've been tortured enough. It would have been a great Yahoo group, but nothing is worth this.
Somewhere in this mix, I finally get a message that tells me the real problem: my account has been deactivated for lack of activity. "Lack of activity" means I haven't logged in on their Web site in the last 90 days. Never mind that I'm a member of several other groups (some of which are paid!) in which I use some 'send to outlook' feature and reply to stuff from there, getting emails every day and being moderately active. I haven't specifically gone to their Web site, on which there's nothing I need routinely, and clicked some "log in" button.
So that's it. I click this link it says to click - nothing whatever on deactivated accounts - only on how to reset your password. Uh, that's what led me here...
Search help. "Reactivate account:" more on how to reset password. Nothing useful.
"Deactivated account" - Aha!!!! Finally! "How to reactivate your acount after it has been deactivated for non-activity" (or something like that). This is it!! Heart racing, I click the link...
I'm supposed to click the "reactivate my account" link on the page that said my account was deactivated. I'm glad that I opened everything in a new tab, so I still have that page open.
Oh &$%#^@. There's no such link. Nothing remotely like that on that page. I look over and over the page, but there's nothing there. I'm not missing it - the page is almost blank save for the error, so there's not much to look through. So the one piece of advise this thing gives me that seems remotely promising is a bald-faced lie. It's really not f&$^@* there!
A couple of more searches and I'm done. It's been 2 hours, and I only wanted to sign up for a Yahoo group - and I even had an account!!! Holy s&^*#@, NO group is worth this aggravation. I wrote to Yahoo about this, but if their help was so very bad, I totally don't expect a response to this.
I'll never have a Yahoo group. I'll never suggest anyone else start or keep a Yahoo group. Is filtering a couple of bad emails worth not only preventing some users from joining but really punishing them for trying to join if their world isn't revolving around Yahoo?
That's a resounding NO.
The first rule of interaction design: DO NO HARM! Yahoo is violating this wantonly and sadistically.
It should be obvious that I'm not in the habit of blogging (yet) unless something hits me as really important. I'll get there - I'm "old" and from an epoch when this online communication thing hadn't yet been burned into our genes, so I have to actually think and remember to do it. Obviously I must be a milligenarian, so bear with me while I catch up.
But something happened to me tonight that I have to share. I - *gasp* - tried to join a Yahoo group. And I - *clutch chest* - already had a Yahoo account.
The problem was that I - here's the really shocking part - hadn't logged into my account for a while -- specifically (I learned after quite a long time) for more than 90 days. I know. Shame on me. I have something of a life outside of Yahoo's Web site. I should really be shot.
So I had a multi-tiered problem, which got more painful as I went on. Obviously it was an important group or I wouldn't have spent almost two hours trying to join it and figure out why I couldn't. Seriously - who would waste that much time on something that wasn't porn? Okay, so I don't have *much* of a life...
Enter username and password. Error. We all get that. I typed my password wrong, that's all. Retype. Nope - error. Retype again. Error. Okay, maybe my username is wrong, or I've completely forgotten my password. Click the "forgot username/password link." (Let me mention here that the error messages to this point said generally that my username or password must be wrong.)
OMG. Am I trying to access the financials of Fort Knox? It doesn't ask for my username and offer to send my info to the email on file - I have to fill out some big form, supplying my birthdate, email, zip code, and then copy the security code to prove I'm a real human being. This is annoying since I can't imagine why my stupid little Yahoo account is more secure than my online banking account (!!), but whatever. Click Submit.
Here's where it all goes south.
Error. Some soft of error, which the page 'helpfully' informs me will be a problem with either my username, birthdate, email, zip code, or security code. This narrows it down nicely to one of ALL OF THE FIELDS on the form. I'm now in some sadistic elementary school quiz where I have to guess the thing that's wrong. Well, I think my birthday is right...
Submit, error, submit, error. I've eliminated every email I've ever used since 1995. Every zip code I've ever lived in. Finally!!! (No, I'm not logged in...) I've narrowed it down and now my errors point specifically to the security code. Cool. That's the easy one.
Um, no. Now, I'm not a moron. Really. My vision is fine at a fair distance; I set my screen resolution to the highest possible because I often work on a laptop and like to cram as much on my screen as possible. I can see everything fine. I'm not even new to these "type what you see in this janky image" security things. I work in software - I've designed these things, for god's sake.
Ok, it's 9KDruS. Submit.
"The security code was typed wrong, you idiot." (...or some error that essentially means that.)
New code. 3VGQ.
"Are you blind? Or just really stupid? Wrong again." (...or equivalent error.)
New code. YFV7d
"We were testing you. Yeah, it looked like that, but you were supposed to input some other random characters. Try again."
*Sigh* okay, I really want to join this, and I know I have an account:
H6nn7
"Hahaha. We can't believe you're still having a go. You must really be masochistic."
24OQgs
"We're going to be laughing at you for weeks in our morning meetings. 'So there was this one user that just kept trying this thing...'"
Alright, I've been tortured enough. It would have been a great Yahoo group, but nothing is worth this.
Somewhere in this mix, I finally get a message that tells me the real problem: my account has been deactivated for lack of activity. "Lack of activity" means I haven't logged in on their Web site in the last 90 days. Never mind that I'm a member of several other groups (some of which are paid!) in which I use some 'send to outlook' feature and reply to stuff from there, getting emails every day and being moderately active. I haven't specifically gone to their Web site, on which there's nothing I need routinely, and clicked some "log in" button.
So that's it. I click this link it says to click - nothing whatever on deactivated accounts - only on how to reset your password. Uh, that's what led me here...
Search help. "Reactivate account:" more on how to reset password. Nothing useful.
"Deactivated account" - Aha!!!! Finally! "How to reactivate your acount after it has been deactivated for non-activity" (or something like that). This is it!! Heart racing, I click the link...
I'm supposed to click the "reactivate my account" link on the page that said my account was deactivated. I'm glad that I opened everything in a new tab, so I still have that page open.
Oh &$%#^@. There's no such link. Nothing remotely like that on that page. I look over and over the page, but there's nothing there. I'm not missing it - the page is almost blank save for the error, so there's not much to look through. So the one piece of advise this thing gives me that seems remotely promising is a bald-faced lie. It's really not f&$^@* there!
A couple of more searches and I'm done. It's been 2 hours, and I only wanted to sign up for a Yahoo group - and I even had an account!!! Holy s&^*#@, NO group is worth this aggravation. I wrote to Yahoo about this, but if their help was so very bad, I totally don't expect a response to this.
I'll never have a Yahoo group. I'll never suggest anyone else start or keep a Yahoo group. Is filtering a couple of bad emails worth not only preventing some users from joining but really punishing them for trying to join if their world isn't revolving around Yahoo?
That's a resounding NO.
The first rule of interaction design: DO NO HARM! Yahoo is violating this wantonly and sadistically.
08 February 2007
About everything
Hello world.
This blog is about everything. Me, you, our ideas, news, design, programming, psychology, grammar, children, law, work, physics, philosophy, movies, games, hobbies, the smart and the stupid, the big and the small. Sickness. Taboo stuff. Religion and other theories. Biology. Music. Existentialism. Maybe Schrodinger's cat. Maybe my cats. String theory, planetary exploration, self-awareness, and stuff named with big words that I can't think of right now.
Stuff for ordinary people like you and me.
I'm not much of a blogger, but I know you'll help me.
We'll piss each other off, and we'll make up. I won't badmouth you to my mom, and you won't criticise my shoes.
BlueSkyRanger.
p.s.: The first person every month to guess the riddle of my name wins a prize (send your answer to sylvania.d@gmail.com - don't post it here, or the game's permanently over, duh.).
This blog is about everything. Me, you, our ideas, news, design, programming, psychology, grammar, children, law, work, physics, philosophy, movies, games, hobbies, the smart and the stupid, the big and the small. Sickness. Taboo stuff. Religion and other theories. Biology. Music. Existentialism. Maybe Schrodinger's cat. Maybe my cats. String theory, planetary exploration, self-awareness, and stuff named with big words that I can't think of right now.
Stuff for ordinary people like you and me.
I'm not much of a blogger, but I know you'll help me.
We'll piss each other off, and we'll make up. I won't badmouth you to my mom, and you won't criticise my shoes.
BlueSkyRanger.
p.s.: The first person every month to guess the riddle of my name wins a prize (send your answer to sylvania.d@gmail.com - don't post it here, or the game's permanently over, duh.).
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)