Round 2 awaits

After the anticlimax that was round 1, round 2 will be taking place tomorrow morning from 11am. I've just taken the 1/2 day of leave I had left seeing as the interview is mid-morning and may take up to 2 hours. Of course, after this, if I need to go for another interview, like I'll be doing on Thursday morning, I'll just go. Some people in the office have already told me that they've head I'm leaving, and when I start showing up at work sporadically, the suspicions will only get more. I'll send an email to everyone tomorrow.

Anyway, so I got the call about half an hour ago. Incidentally, Kamikaze had passed by the office and we were chatting in the lobby [visitors aren't allowed into our offices] when I got the call. I was almost giving up, but I figured that I'd have another chance at least. If I get through the technical interview tomorrow, apparently I'll have a last interview with HR. It's the first I've heard of HR doing interviews. Apparently it's to authenticate stuff you've been saying about yourself and haggle over pay. I'm still not wearing a tie to this one.

Always behind

I think acceptance of the self is the first step to...I don't know what. I accept that I am a lazy oaf, always lagging behind, without a clue. For those of you who knew Kamikaze sat for some paper last year, the results are out. And I get to know a whole week after all the other guys know. Obviously I am letting you know this because I passed, and someone better buy me alcohol or you'll never hear the end of it.

My date?

It was SUPER!!!! I will not elaborate.

Anyway, she arrived about two hours late. By that time, I was well into my fourth drink. Think it is a standard thing chics do.
It is extremely annoying.

Has my opinion about dating changed? Well,...it is not exactly a harrowing experience.

As for the advice, ahh, sadly I did not use that.

Guys, learn how to dance

In addition to being a good way of relieving stress and passing time, apparently dancing can also get you a chic. The quality of dancing of course will probably determine the quality and quantity of suitors you will encounter because women like good dancers.

Studies can show anything, but I've had evidential experiences that support these claims. I happen to like dancing, and unlike phone numbers where I've never had a chic ask for my number, I've had a chic come up to dance with me. It's one of the most flattering and exciting things that have happened to me. This first happened to me sometime last year and my self esteem received a much needed boost. Most of the time, I'm the one prowling the dance floor looking for women to devour, but when the opposite happens, well it's pleasantly different. Slow wind Grace is one of those who've come up to me while I was busy minding my own business, jumping up and down on the dance floor. It may not get you a mate, but at least it does make for a pleasurable, fun time out, especially if you're a teetotaler.

I never thought...

I'd meet Vanessa again. I couldn't even remember her name when I bumped into her on sato night. She wasn't her usual ebullient self, but it was good seeing her again anyhow. I also made a new acquaintance. Slow wind Grace. I tried really hard not to ask for her number, following my recent decision not to. I did good.

On another note, I saw gorgeous today morning. On the other side of the street. C'est dommage.

Of love and the thrill of the chase

There's a chic who told me a really sad tale about love the other day. She also happened to point out that I don't have 'relationships' that last more than 2 weeks because I probably just love the thrill of the chase. Truth be told, the excitement on meeting someone new, or getting a new phone number wanes dramatically after the said 2 weeks or so. I don't know what it is, but it isn't restricted to matters relating to chics. Once I know how to do something, most of the initial excitement is lost. This is partly why I've never managed to do a single web page. I have tried on occassion, even installing Dreamweaver once, but it's just HTML. I learnt how to play pool in my first year of campus, and after I knew I could play, I didn't have the same desire to keep playing. People like to show off their pool skills, but as long as I know I can play, I don't have to. Well, another reason I don't play pool much is the fact that everyone watching tells you what you should do, or what you should have done.

So. Perhaps the other side of being really intrigued and interested in learning new things means that you also get bored quickly. Or maybe it's just me. Anyway. I've decided to spare the ladies the agony of these 2 week 'relationships'.

What nonsense!

I came to the office this sato morning, to write some tutorials and stuff to CD, apply for a job or two, and blog. I just happened to peek at my outlook inbox, to see what stuff has been going on in the office while I was on my mini-holiday the past 3 days.

I've just seen an email from our office admin stating that I'm entitled to 3.5 leave days till the end of Feb [when I'll be leaving my current employer of course], and that since I've already taken 3 days, I only have 0.5 left. Can you believe these guys? What if I'd taken 10 days off before handing in my resignation letter? What would have happened then. Is there a law that says you can't take all your leave days at the beginning of the year? aJamaa, you're the closest guy to a lawyer I can think of. Is this how things are done?

I'm in shock right now. Utterly distressed. You should hear the sound the keyboard is making as I pound on the innocent keys. I was intending to take some leave days off so that I can pursue other jobs, going for interview and whatnot. Now I'll have to skive work to do this. That's not how I'd have liked to do things. I gave my notice really early in good faith. I took leave to go for an interview on Wednesday, so that I didn't have to skive work that morning. Now I get the feeling that I'm not being treated fairly. Being punished almost. As it is, I have to go for interviews, and if I skive as I'll have to, I'll probably end up being fired before February comes to a close.

There's a pal of mine who left this lovely compony of ours late last year, and he apparently suffered similar retribution when he told them he's leaving. Apparently, he gave them 5 days notice and they challenged that. Can leave days not count to your notice period?

I'll need to follow this up first thing Monday morning so if anyone has insight, I'd appreciate your comments.

Life

The more I live, the more I realise the futility of it all. As Ben Affleck says in Changing Lanes, "life is a sewer", or as I'd say, Life is crap. Life is crap, and then you die.

Movie review: Changing Lanes

Well. This isn't really a moview review. Not in the real sense. However. It is a movie I've just come from watching, and it struck a cord with me. First it features possibly my favourite actor, Samuel L. Jackson. [Why does his name have that initial?] For me, it was a representation of the concept of doing right, or at least attempting to do things right. I guess it's just something that I believe in.

P.S:
I'm too lazy to start another post, so I'll just put a note here. I've just met a chic friend of mine who I met during my days at Strath. We got talking and before I knew it, the conversation was all about me and I was having to defend myself, answering questions like "Ati you can't be friends with a chic?". Anyway, what really saddened me is her, and her other chic friend's assertion that one can't love 2 people, ever! There's only the one. Apparently this pal of hers had a tight boyfie who passed away and she has vowed never to be in another relationship ever again. Well, she says it's not a conscious choice, but just that she can't love another person again. What a loss. She's probably just 25. What a pity.

The interview

What a load of crap! Crap on top of more crap! What nonsense. fdlsf f#%$#% #^#@^%*!

Ok. Let me catch my breath. I haven't done an interview of any sort in over 2 years. Before today, I hadn't done an exam in just about 3 years.

So I wake up early today morning. No sleep. Butterflies all over the place. I was there a whole half hour early so I had a bit of a chance to check out the place. First thing that struck me is the security before you get in. They actually have some sort of a computerised system, where they actually enter some stuff. There's even a print out which you then carry along! The place seemed rather sterile, with everyone wearing dog tags which they use to open doors. At least people weren't walking around in suits. The only guys who had ties on were the sort of guys who'd wear a tie to bed.

I'm ushered into a small ka-conference room and told to "position myself". There are like 10 seats there and a bit of apprehension sets in. On the whiteboard are drawings of things like logic gates and funny scribbled things. If I'm going to be asked to explain the stuff on there, I'm sunk. After a while, my lady host ushers in some 2 guys. I look up from my near slumber and notice that they have visitors tags on, same as me. Apparently, 5 guys will be taking the interview today. It's going to be one big party. After another brief pause, we are brought for exam papers. Honest. They look like exam papers, they have questions in there which we are apparently meant to answer, there are instructions on the first page, and we have 1 hour. I thought of walking out in protest, but only made it to the gents, where I composed myself and walked back.

Have you seem those ads for IQ tests where you have a funny series of shapes and are asked to chose the next one? That was section one. My blood was boiling, and as those who've done exams with me may know, I tend to speak out my frustrations. Mumble them even. I went on to other similarly silly sections where I had to do a range of things from choosing the closest meaning of words like capricious, to doing some silly math questions. [Incidentally, I've just realised I got the capricious question wrong]. I hate all sorts of aptitude tests. As it is, I happen to do rather well in exams. I'm not sure how or why. Someone should have told them that.

After an hour of hurling curses and abuses at the poor exam paper infront of me, we had a brief chat with the manage who is actually looking to recrui one of us. There'll be a second interview for those who happen to be good with shapes and colours, sometime next week. We should know by the end of this week. One thing I won't be doing if I get the call will be wearing a tie. I'll also refuse to answer any more silly questions.

Let me leave this post at that. I'm at the cyber from hell. They don't have the browser I like, and pages are taking forever to be rendered. The space key is also in two parts, with the left part acting as a backspace! Honest!

P.S:
Thanks to Athena for the good wishes, but by the time you sent that text, my phone was already off, and I was contemplating the choice with the closest meaning to satellite.

money or marriage?

You will remember Cleopatra, our fabolous workplace princess? She raised such dust on this blog when she was mentioned that you must be have been blind or deaf or both to have missed it.

Well, Cleopatra is walking the floors as usual. Today, she is breathtaking.

A colleague steals a look as she is making herself busy with the photocopier. There is a low, inaudible buzz, which escapes many but not me. You see, in every environment, there evolves a language of sorts, comprising of looks, gestures, words and certain phrases. It is no different here. A slew of computer technical terms have been adapted to express certain sentiments; And these are usually said in the open because no one else understands. Very senior people have been mocked to their very faces without their not being any wiser of it. Of course, to hold the laughter is the ultimate test in control. I digress.

One guy stares longingly, lets out an exasperated sigh and lets out in an obfuscated english:
"This mama will never get a husband".
Clear case of sour grapes.
Without bothering to know whether she has ever been interested in getting married or not, a conclusion has been drawn and drawn fast.
This is a real good opening. Debate is just about to gain momentum. But she is still nearby, and she may get the drift of what is being said.
So, with one nod and facial muscle shift, debate is promptly killed.

As soon she is out, I re-open the debate.
Hey Dude, what makes you think she will never get a husband?

After a very lopsided debate (there are no women to defend her), this is the long and short of the whole saga.
[disclaimer: these are not necessarily my opinions]
- Successful women are proud.
- They are proud because they don't have to lookup to a man for financial support.
- Because they do not look up to anyone for support, they are not subservient.
- Or meek.
- Lacking in meekness and deference, they then challenge a man's authority.
- Will insist on dealing on the same terms. On occasion, they will make embarassing demands, for instance, ask the man to cook for his visitors. Or asking him to do the dishes. Or requiring that his own mother never step in the house.
- Which to some people, is extremely disturbing.
- More on the equal treatment, they will want to go out and drink, like men do. Till late into the night.
- They will easily cheat on you.
- Because they have seen the inside of a University classroom. Walked the notorious halls of residence. And know the whole tradecraft of cheating without being detected.

And because of all these crimes, no self respecting man will agree to be subjected to this humiliating treatment. A unanimous conclusion.

You are very mistaken if you think the debate ended.

It was also unanimously agreed, that women who resist men's charms, such as our Cleopatra ultimately end up very miserable because of chiefly the following reasons:

- Sex is an intuitive, necessary biological function. The only action to be got by scaring potential suitors away will remain in the mind, or with battery powered devices. (sic)
- Beauty and youth fade with time. Beauties of a certain time (and space) are left grasping at straws and end up with certain psychological crises if they realise there is no head-turning occasioned by their passing by.
- Due to (2) above, a phenomenon called "loneliness" sets in. I am reliably informed that this is the time that they start to actively rear cats.
- I am also informed, that for every super woman (cash, looks, brains), there is at least another who has only (looks), which apparently, is the only thing that matters at this dignified gathering. (a guy mentioned that he would not mind cash + looks, and was called something that is not very nice).

She walks back in. She walks over and engages one of the guys in conversation.
From the enthusiasm displayed by the guy, I have not one doubt in my mind he would take her without batting an eyelid if she offered.

My advice to guys: Get rid of your dreams. They are very expensive.

Another one

Another gem from the one techie blog I follow.

Paul Graham has some of the best essays though.

ideas please.

Seeing that I have been cornered into a date, I need some inspiration. Why do I need inspiration?

i) We cannot talk football, programming or other mundane things I do.
ii) We cannot talk about the future (I refuse to see beyond now where girls are concerned)
iii) Not about sex either.

That leaves me with just about ......NOTHING! to talk about.

And you might be wondering how I got myself into this predicament?
I will tell you.

There is this chic I met in Hornbill way back in October 2005. Beautiful, nice, the works. I asked for her number, but when I called the next day it was not working. I tried a few more times a few more days later. Same result.
Deleted the number.
Some time in December she calls. Of course that time I have not the slightest clue its her on the other end. I go through the whole "hi, how are you. You are so lost" repertoire when I don't know who is on the other end.

".5, you can't remember me, can you? [long pause] I will remind you. [long lecture follows]".

So I have called a few times. She has called back. Then she announced that she is tiring of phone calls and wants a real tete-a-tete.
With me so far? So here we are.

Ideas are what I need. Things like [just relax and enjoy the company] don't qualify. I am already as relaxed as relaxation can go. I don't want to do "the pretender" routine.
Looks like your tasks are cut and dried. I am listening.

things .....

I am yet to accept
That there are female touts manning our mathrees. And they are just as rough and unkempt as their male peers. This is taking the battle for equality to a whole new level.

There is a Mira Sorvino look-alike on SuperSport 3 commenting on matters football. Which is not bad, but she wears a thick layer of makeup, giving the impression that her face is made of glossed granite. Interesting. These marketing-PR people never fail to amaze me.

A certain conversation we hold rarely, but the few times it happens leaves me jarred.
(said)
MV [a good lady friend]: Gee .5, are you OK?
0.5: Me? I am good, never been better.
MV: OK .5, you give me a heads up if you need anything...

(meant)
MV: Dude, you look hungry, broke and miserable. I have some spare cash, because I am not reckless like you.
0.5: Of course I am broke and miserable. But I will not accept your helping hand,for the moment. Thanks anyway.
MV: Yeah. You go have a bite of that pride of yours. But you can still see me if things get thick.

She is priceless

On any given day of the week, I can never find adequate space to hang my laundry to dry. Makes you wonder, how many sets of clean clothes can a person wear in one go?

Maids have this NASTY habit of sitting squat on the stairs, having chatter, or making their hair. Blocking everyone's way in the process. And making me lose my head on a naturally good day like Saturday. As if that is not enough, you are hardly out of earshot before they start making rude jokes about you.

Why anyone would want me to give them phone credit? Especially when its not me they want to talk to? And it is not an emergency?
Do people stop to think why SMS was built into phones? Because a whole lot can be squeezed into 160 characters.

I do not understand

Why do complete strangers (both men and women across a broad age spectrum) keep greeting me? Not that I am complaining.

Why people are not satisfied with the simple introduction:
Hi, I am .5.
And will want to ask you:
What do you do?
And I will say:
I am computer technician.
They will continue:
Precisely what do you do?
And from then on you will be probed, probed and trapped in an everlasting while loop of questions?

Why is it that some people MUST be in a love relationship?
That some men will not give up on a certain woman until they have made absolute jerks of themselves?

Who invented dates? Can't there be a less taxing method of communicating with women? I can bet a good chunk of money that I do more brain cycles when I am on a date (trying to think of something to say, and that something should funny too, as well as not ridiculous, because I do not desire to be slapped, and it should elicit more conversation, you know domino effect errrgggg!) than when I am writing a C++ routine.

Consensus?

I don't usually comment on local politics, but I just have to quote the Quote of the day on my google homepage.

Historically, the claim of consensus has been the first refuge of scoundrels; it is a way to avoid debate by claiming that the matter is already settled.

Quote from Michael Crichton.

Why I LOVE Firefox

IE [not deserving of a link] may be the most widely used, and Opera may be the fastest, but Firefox is the best browser. I can't comment on Safari seeing as I don't have a Mac.

I first stumbled on Firefox in campus, when it was still called Firebird. Apparently there was a DBMS already using that name, so they had to rename. Simple. Just replace the bird with a fox. The rest is history.

The first and most important reason why I love this browser is the tabs. It's the same reason I liked Netcaptor, until it stopped being free. Of course once you discover tabbed browsing, there's no going back. I just couldn't go back to using IE and went on to download and use Netscape. [I'm not sure why they have a new version]. Tabbed browsing and popup blocking as essential if you spend significant time googling, or surfing for porn. Oh. IE7 will have tabbed browsing, whenever it comes out.

The other reason has to be the extensions. Right now, I have one showing the weather outlook and forecast of Nairobi on the status bar, one which allows selection of a tab simply by placing your mouse over it and one to undoclosetab. Close a tab by mistake? Just right click and undo. Then there's sessionsaver. Need to close down your browser but don't want to lose those links/web pages, just save the session. Did the browser crush, or had a blackout or some moron switched off your computer? No problem. Session saver reloads all your pages as they were. No need to write URL's in some notepad file.

I'm not so big on themes, but I really enjoyed noia extreme when I had that as my theme.

The integrated seach bar is another essential if you need to look up stuff. Apart from the build in search engines like google and, answers.com, you can add your own and searching WebMD or dictionary.com is just a Ctrl+K away.

Live bookmarks are another thing I really like, especially in this age of blogs and RSS.

Overall, I really like Firefox, and I'm not an anti-MSFT fundamentalist. [Just for the record, I really really loathe IE.] It's simple, small [5MB] and is user oriented. MSFT like to beat their users to submission. Firefox has really useful features, that you actually want to use.

My weekend

I was sitting here, twiddling my thumbs, and thought I should just post about something.

So. My weekend. I spend a good chunk of Friday evening surfing, and was strangely fatigued by about 8:30. I went home and was asleep by 11.

Woke up at about 8:30 on Sato morning. No sleep. Nothing to watch on Telly [I don't fancy kids programmes much] so I found myself reading all sorts of tutorials. C++, XML, XSLT, Oracle SQL and Java. Now that's how a guy should spend a weekend. Exhilarating! Too much even. I had to take a nap at about 2. Woke up a bit later to watch Arsenal losing to Everton. I was meant to meet up with some chic in the evening but I just wasn't up for it. I tried silence but she called me at about 8. I told her I was feeling rather tired and wouldn't make it. Well, it was the truth. Had another early night.

Sunday. Went back to my tutorials, but the psyche wasn't there. Went to visit my sister. Truth be told, I went there to get a shower. We didn't have a single drop of water at home. Spent the evening watching Liverpool dominate Man U, just to concede a goal in the 90th minute. How did Cisse miss? The guy should do like Baros, and not-score for another team. Asleep by 11.

The best thing about the weekend I guess is the fact that I didn't spend money. Not that much anyway. Can't wait for end month.

Making. Life better?

I got a call yesterday from someone at Celtel. I'm going for an interview there next week Wednesday. That's sort of buoyed my mood and reinforced my assurance of getting another job, whatever kind. It came as a surprise though considering that I'd just sent an email to a generic HR address, not even applying for a specific position. Come to think of it, I don't know what position I'll be interviewing for. The fact that Celtel retrenched a whole load of guys at the end of last year makes this opportunity even more surprising.

I just happened to ask the chic on the other end of the line whether I needed to dress formally for the interview, to which she replied in a condescending tone, "it's an interview; you know what to do". I hope I don't have to work for her. If MSFT don't require interviewees to dress formally, who are you to. As it is, I was planning on going in a t-shirt and jeans - the same way I dress to church when I do go, but now I'll have to adorn myself with a tie, just so that she don't think I'm a big headed moron who's full of myself.

I'd intended to take the week off next week, ostensibly to read and prepare for the interview. After talking to someone, I realised I'll be better off coming to the office as I need to find out about things like Oracle financials [whatever that is], and read up a bit on gsm.

I Would Run. Sue Me.

I have this friend. I will not reveal his name because I plan on having a head on top of my shoulders for the foreseeable future at least. So, for reference, lets call him K.

Me and K are in the house (this was some time ago) on a Saturday morning. K is complaining about a certain woman who has been texting him. He did not know the woman. He sent a message asking the lady to identify herself. The lady in consternation, replied that her name was 'Hot'.
H O T?
In addition, she claimed that my friend K knows her, and he is only playing those games men are so famous for.

What kind of name is that? Anyway, that got the curiosity going. A few jolly laughs. I asked K to save the number, tongue in cheek.

After a time, she calls: Obviously from my end, I can only hear one half of the conversation.
K: Hi. [pause]
K: Ati I know you? From where? [another pause]
K: Aiiiiii. Let me assure you I have never met you.

For an interminable time they talk, until K clips the mouthpiece and announces, incredulous;
".5, this mama wants us to meet, for a date!".
Events are unravelling. So I tell him that I find nothing particularly wrong with meeting a person. So K asks her when and where they should meet.

They say that you fold a fish before it dries. Our dear 'Hot' wanted the meeting the same Saturday. I love all things spontaneous. So I shake off my early morning hangover, and take a shower, in readiness to play spy. I just had to see this 'Hot'. My friend K arranged a meeting at Seasons. Off we sped towards town and to season.

We sat at two different tables but within proximity. This was the deal, if 'Hot' turned out to be actually hot, I was to pretend that I had never seen or heard of my friend K in my entire waking life. Of course, the reverse would apply. I would step in and throw a spanner in the works.
I had my own ideas. We sipped beer as we exchanged banter.

After some 40 minutes, 'Hot' called to say that she could not find Seasons. Who in Nairobi doesn't know Seasons. K, started ranting that she is probably of a rich extraction; fly and sophisticated and could not be bothered with lowly places like Seasons. But I know K. He has met colossal misfortunes in the women's department and probably this would not be any different.

K called 'Hot' back. He gave a long, arduous explanation of how to get to Seasons. She still did not get it. So he told her to ask for Ambassadeur when she arrives in town and call so that she can be picked. After this exchange, we start wondering whether we have ourselves a dimwit for a date.

10 minutes later, she flashed. So K goes. You at Ambassadeur?
She can't locate Ambassadeur either. K puts in a super human effort not to fly off the handle. He maintains a mellow, sweet voice. But we are dumbfounded. K goes to explain the location of the place with reference to the position of the sun, the streets, everything and anything we could get hold off. Nil.
Finally K asked, exasperated.
Kwani unaishi kwa shimo gani?
Makongeni
So where the hell is Makongeni?
Off the road that connects Thika to Garissa.

All this time. The woman was in Thika, we were in Nairobi and that never got across. K informs her that indeed we are in Nairobi therefore they can't meet.
"Ohhh no no I will come to Nairobi".
At this point I was finding things very amusing and could not help laughing. I told K to forget the woman and we head to another joint. But in an effort to annoy me, K decided to proceed with the plan.

After one hour, 'Hot' called to announce that she had arrived in Nairobi. K advised her to as for directions to the Hilton and wait for him near the lobby as well as give a description of what she was wearing.
She made short work of finding the Hilton.
My time to play James Bond had arrived.

Armed with the description of the dress, I set out, 20 metres ahead of K. Yes, I could see her from quite afar, in a screaming red dress. Alas there were two of them. The script had not said two. Just one. Nothing out of the ordinary though, chics play tag all the time. So I moved closer for a better view in a very unobtrusive manner.

'Hot' was a woman who at least was 30 years old. If she wasn't then my real name is Moses and I can make electricity with my bare hands. Her hair was short, jet black and slick with grease. Hot indeed.

My first step, was to call K. Dude, abort, abort, abort! Mean, huh?
NO. That was precisely what I had been tasked to do. Find if 'Hot' was hot enough to risk a date with. This one was a no-brainer. Not hot.
Curiosity got the better of K (or perhaps the guilt that goes with standing someone up). He showed up unexpectedly between me and her. And unmasked my presence.
Hi, .5, trying to reach you but you are walking too fast.
Then in a brilliant act:
Hey,.......you are 'Hot', from Thika ........
'Hottensia, ....Hot, yes that's me'.

He then started closing the remaining 7 metres and increasingly lost momentum as he approached the target. A full 2 meters from where she was standing, he stopped completely.
He turned back to look at me, to see if I was approaching.
I had not moved an inch.
"Hi, you have a friend ......."
"Yes, she is called ....[sorry, can't remember]"
"I just run into .5 too, he is an old buddy of mine ....".

They approach me. Introductions all round. Now K wants to set me up with Hot's buddy.
I hear K saying: Lets go to Hornbill for a drink.
I suddenly had very pressing business to attend to. Got to run, got to run. K gave me that look that seems to say: don't leave me alone with them pleaaaaseeee.

To summarize, K gave 'Hot' her date. He was civil, cordial and a genetleman. I later joined them at the bar, but that was after K promised that he would finance the beer drinking, after they were gone, long into the rest of the night.
So beer was coming? I created diversions that ensured the date did not last too long.

'Hot', started stalking K, calling him many times on a single day for many more days that followed. She even came to Nairobi a few times.
K got annoyed and rudely told her off.

What I've been up to

I've had to go back to basics this week, reading tutorials on C++ and Java and stuff, seeing as I've resigned from my current job. I realised that I've put down these skills on my cv but couldn't write 10 lines of code off the top of my head. On sato evening, I attempted to create a console application in Visual C++, and couldn't remember how to add a c++ source file to the project. That was truly scary. After I clicked around and found a menu item to do this, I attempted to write a hello world program. Again I say attempted because the 6 lines of code generated 4 compile errors.

#include <iostream>
int main()
{
 cout<<"hello world";
 return 0;
}

I was horified!

Fortunately, things have been getting gradually better, but last night as I was reading one of my all time favourite c++ tutorials [which I'd stripped of course], I came to the point in the tutorial with the following code example

// increaser
#include <iostream>
using namespace std;

void increase (void* data, int size)
{
  switch (size)
  {
    case sizeof(char) : (*((char*)data))++; break;
    case sizeof(int) : (*((int*)data))++; break;
  }
}

int main ()
{
  char a = 'x';
  int b = 1602;
  increase (&a,sizeof(a));
  increase (&b,sizeof(b));
  cout << a << ", " << b << endl;
  return 0;
}

I made a valiant effor to finish reading that page, onto the small matter of function pointers, and immediately shut down the machine.

Resistance to change

I was walking to work today morning, brandishing a diskette. I started thinking that anyone looking at me must have thought I was as mad as a hatter. Well, truth be told, he wouldn't be too far off the mark. However, in this age where people fancy using CDs, I was feeling rather smug that I was coming to the office to copy something onto my diskette. The Philospha and I are the only people I know who own a diskette at our office.

I like the concept of a diskette, and especially that small is beautiful. I detest and loathe this era of huge bloated apps which just have fancy graphics and little functionality that people actually use. You get a faster PC only to get applications that use up all that new found speed. Absolutely detestable! This is why anyone worth his salt will probably admit that notepad is one of the best programs ever. Consider that MSFT still ship it, and there are no "new improved" versions.

Now this is insanity

Background
A long time a go when I was wee little lad no older than ten and three years old. There was this little las who captured my heart and loins. As I grew up into aJamaa I still considered this lass easy on the eye, and she grew up and blossomed into a fair maiden.

A few weeks ago I felt this strong urge to send the chik the e-mail below.

The E-Mail

There is something I have always wanted to tell you, but always felt to
afraid or thought that you would not want to hear. The good thing about
growing older is that one starts to see things in a different light,
things
that used to matter a few year ago no longer seem important while stuff
that was unimportant is now a matter of life and death. The thing is I
had
a serious crush on you when I was twelve, when I was sixteen I still
had a
crush on you, when I was twenty it was still there and now that I am
twenty-six I can still feel it. What I am basically saying is that I
have
been thinking about spending time with you, talking you, touching you,
kissing you, making love to you for the last fourteen years. That is
more
than half my life.

During my early teens I used to get extremely nervous around girls, I
would
get butterflies in my stomach, a lump would rise to my throat, and my
head
would get cloudy and start feeling hot. This made it very difficult to talk to girls.
With time I became more
confident
and now I do not get these feelings, unless I am with you. Around you I
feel twelve, there is something about you that gets me very excited,
something that makes me a little boy again. Something else I must say
is
that you are easily the most beutiful woman I have met. You are so
beutiful
I cannot look at you straight (for real check it out the next time you
see
me). I cannot even keep a memory of your face in my mind, it would hurt
too
much.

During this fourteen years there is nothing that you have done or said
that
could make me thing that you feel the same way. So why am I what I am
saying? The reason is simple, one of the saddest things about life is
that
no matter how much you like someone you cannot make them like you back,
infact the more disintrested they are the more you want them. And fate
has
this strange way of making our paths keep crossing.  It was bad enough
that
we went to the same primo, things got worse when you moved closer to
my place, now you were spending your nights less than a
kilometre
from my bed. Of all the campuses in the world we both had to go to UoN.
And for the
proverbial straw that broke the camel's back, you had to come and work here,
so
now as soon as I have these feelings under control I ran into you and
go
back to being a twelve year old . I must have done something really bad
to
deserve this kind of heartache or something really good to have the
pleasure of enjoying a crush for fourteen years.

I ask again so why am I saying all these things? Am I hoping that you
will
read the stuff, get weak in the knees, run to where am sitted and
proclaim
your love for me? I know you so I dont expect that to happen. I am
saying
what I am saying because I can. I am saying what I am saying because I
have
always wanted to say it, I have to say it and I am now ready to say it.
It
would be nice for you to reply to my ramblings but you do not have to.

So as you go about living your life, working or not working, happy or
sad,
sick or off good health, married or single, I will always think about
you
and imagine us together. This will both cause me joy and pain. But it
is my
life and there is nothing you can do about it and I have no desire to
do
anything about it.

Her reply: came after a few weeks with the Subject

hey

I wanted to reply to your mail earlier but I got too busy skiving work, shame on me. I wasnt snobbing honest. I'm not that mean. & then I really didnt know what to say.

I am very flattered. Honestly, I neva in a million years would have guessed that you had a crush on me. I just thot u were kinda shy.

I'm not going to feed u a "u r a fabulous guy n any gal would be flattered & its not you its me" coz I have known u for so long am not going to use a line. & am not going to lie that am seeing someone, which am not, for now, this particular minute.

But I cant go out with you, I don't wonna do that now. I don't have those kind of feelings for you. I like u as a friend, that's it.I don't think am going to develop such feelings for u. Am sorry it may hurt but better the truth now than me using u then u discover later.

I do hope that we will both be mature about this whole thing that neva was. I hope u do not think am a challange n try to convince me further. & I will not take advantage of you.

Am sorry, I have tried to be very gentle n would have written longer mail but as it is it is 4.25pm n am about late for leaving work.

That boys and gals is real insanity.

Insanity is ...

Well. I can't quite put this in a phrase so you'll have to bear with me as I tell you the story.

It's one of my sister's birthday tomorrow so I dashed to Nakumatt during the lunch break to look for a birthday card. I'm not totally sold on the idea of birthday cards, but apparently it means something to some people. Of course I don't give my bro a birthday card. That would be ludicrous.

Anyway. So I get to the card section and gaze at the choices on offer. Some two chics turn the corner and join me in looking at the cards. [Of course chics are an integral part of the story] One of them looks like the bold type. The type that isn't afraid to say anything. The type who you can't stare down. There's eye contact. I'm thinking of something to break the ice. Lucky for me, she's definitely the bold type. She asks me the kind of card I'd like to get. Apparently she's buying for some guy. I point at one of the several in her hand, the one she seems to like. She agrees that it would be a good choice and makes a remark like "if he doesn't like it shauri yake". I ask her to reciprocate, and choose one for me. She pulls out one she says she'd like if it was for her. I take it and ask for her address. I have to keep the conversation going, don't I. I think about asking her for her number but can't quite figure out how to say this in a seamless manner. She heads off to the cashiers. I linger a while longer and conclude that her choice is as good as I'm going to make. I also head to the counter to pay for my purchase. They're still in the queue so I line up behind them. I regurgitate the only thing I can think to say and ask the bold one for her email address, putting on as serious a face as I can muster. The less bold member of the pair points out that I can always get chocolate as an alternative. "Where are the chocolates?". "Just there", she replies. I turn to my left and find myself staring at all sorts of flavours of condoms. I make some remark then she points behind me. I pick a bar of dairy milk from the shelf and add it to my purchases. As they're done buying, the start to kind of walk away as I'm paying. I assure them that the chocolate is indeed for them. The less bold one is in shock. It's not a big deal.

This incident would be perfectly normal, except of a couple of really out of character things.

1. I didn't ask the bold chic for her phone number at the card section.
2. I didn't ask for any of the chics' numbers at the check out counter.
3. I didn't walk up to them after making my purchase and ask for a phone number.

I just waved goodbye and walked away. Astonishing.

Well, I purged my phonebook recently. Again. Just about all chics are gone. I'm now down to about 30 entries. I realised that I was nowhere near rich enough to be calling all these chics all the time, given that they never call me. Getting more numbers for more of the same would not be prudent, and I'd probably end up deleting their number within the week anyway. The fact that I recently quit my job has also strengthened my resolve to resist acquring any new numbers. I'm not sure how long this will last. Given my history, not too long probably.

No encumbrances.

My Head of Department has just passed by the corridor.

The man is wearing a black bandanna and a green T-Shirt. He has barred anyone from photographing him.
Now that would have been something.

I think tomorrow I will show up in slippers.

The question why?

Why is a pretty useless question to ask in a myriad of situations and scenarios, especially in the obscure domain that is life. However, I still find myself asking this question, even when it's perceived value is minimal. I find it exceedingly useful, and interesting, finding out why, even if it may not help solve a problem at hand. Understanding alone is strangely and completely satisfying.

Case in point. I was talking to another programmer at work [the new kid on the block], and he described a situation where he added a line of code that caused lots of errors. His solution? Remove that line of code. That's all. This is where we are fundamentally and intractably different. In a situation similar to this, I'd first find out why all hell had broken loose and would only comment out that statement if I found out the cause of the new errors, which necessitates me removing this line of code, or if I couldn't find out the cause of the errors. Whatever the case, I wouldn't remove that line of code just because removing that line will result in an error free situation. Noooo. That would be too easy. I'd find it hard to resist the urge to understand the situation.

I've noticed this apparently skewed way of thinking in the way I approach problems at work. Whereas my manager, and most everyone else is concerned about giving customers something that works, I'm interested in finding out why that stuff doesn't work in the first place. I must confess that on a couple of situations, my manager has instructed me to follow the latter approach because he's realised that if he let me go on with my quest, clients may never get an acceptable solution.

This obsession has served me well throughout my life, and coupled with the stubbornness I inherited from my folks, and my sadomasochistic tendencies, has enabled me to grasp many concepts, and enjoy writing code.

As I've always said ...

Programmers aren't "normal".

It is finished

Done.

I handed in my resignation letter today morning. I won't be here come March.

The past week or so has been pretty hectic, with one crisis after another requiring my attention. Guys want solutions from you but are not willing to give you enough time to find the said solution. Some people also just don't appreciate that not everything is trivial, and don't seem to understand if you don't have a solution for them in minutes. I know I've been doing my best. I'm not a genius but I know anyone else wouldn't be having a much easier time. Anyway, there are guys here with decent minds so things will work out ok.

As for me, I'm moving on.

Afer PageRank, then what.

This is what (and its like cousins) has changed the outlook of the internet.
I call it the gateway to the internet.

There is a 100 billion US dollars financial and technological behemoth behind this brilliantly simple (almost stupid) page. That kind of money can buy Kenya and every human being standing in it.

But for how long will the good times last? Sure, pagerank is a brilliant indexing algorithm. But so was InkTomi before it, and others. Google's business model is difficult to understand at best. It is revolutionary, yes, and that may be its undoing. Being so original, all the big shots want a piece of it (including MSFT). My fear is that such massive capitalization will not yield returns; Old school rules of Economics will kick in and money will start to be pulled out. There will be nowhere for Google to go but down.

Worse, another genius (or two) might come up with another out-of-the world indexing concept. You are probably thinking that Google has herded to its headquarters all the mathematical wizards it can find and such a possibility is remote; And I will remind you that before Google came into being, other companies like Yahoo, MSFT and IBM have been tinkering with indexing and library algorithms for decades. They did not stumble on the 2 famous eggheads, and the rest is history. Comparing with other leading technology companies, I am predicting a longer stay in the scene for them rather than Google. Of course, I could be (and most likely will be) wrong, just like countless other times:

MSFT: The last good thing they made had "2000" somewhere in it. That is Windows 2000, Sql Server 2000, Office 2000. After that they went to sleep and all they do is add more colour to perfectly good systems. And code that no one needs. In the end, everything runs slower. Luckily for them, there are millions of clueless zealots who snap to attention everytime MSFT strategists cough. Ironically, the bloated software which is supposed to help, enhance their experience with it, just doesn't (leaving support personnel with intractable problems).

Apple Inc. Their MACs are pricey. But then they have the iPod. They have grabbed entertainment savvy people by the balls. As for operating systems like Mac OS or OS X, overrated. No real big deal.

Oracle. They have this new thing they call "grid computing" coming with the latest release of Oracle DB (10g). My company has already installed it and now there are more problems than before. Anyway, if you are doing real heavy processing, you don't have a choice. The only other competition here is DB4.

RedHat. They have this smart server OS that is like a fortress. However, damn thing needs rocket scientists to run and maintain.

Sun Microsystems. Did I say MACs are pricey? For high costs, Sun machines win the race hands down. I don't know what you would have to run to require those sparc arrays of theirs. They were among the first to hit the Tera mark as far as memory is concerned. They do 64 bit RISC on the lower side, almost always multi-processor based (4,8,16 to 64 I think). In keeping up the reputation of being exceedingly complex, they made a revolutionary, crazy-difficult platform called Java (IBM and other companies make more money from Java than Sun). I almost chipped trying to do a project in Java. Solaris is neat. Simple enough, robust but, yes you guessed right. Expensive.

IBM. Methusellah. Been around from the turn of the previous and current century.

All these guys have a product. Google has a service. Not terribly comfortable.

On another note. I am going to ignore my own wise counsel, and drink today. My money, has never earned itself, so tell me someone, why should I spare it? Goode weekend.

Tomorrow it is

I've had to bring forward my resignation notice hand in date. Apparently my manager is currently recruiting people. Interviewing people actually. Rather than let him go through this processs with certain staffing details in mind, then when he's through shock him with my resignation, [well it wouldn't really be a shock seeing as I've told him before that I was disillusioned here] I figure it would be prudent and proper to inform him of my decision at this early stage.

I may be shown the door immediately even, and not allowed to work my notice period. Some people escort you to your desk and straight out of the building once you resign/are fired. Last time, I deleted all personal files and emails from my computer, and had taken all personal possessions, save for my jogging kit, home. I'll be doing that again tomorrow morning, then get on with what I need to do.

There are 10 types of people in this world ...

Those who understand binary, and those who don't.

[One of the best jokes I've come across, thanks to 0.5. If you don't get it, you are officially not a geek]

What of holding hands

I've taken up jogging this week. It's a lot more tedious and painful than playing football, which I used to do previously. It's the spirit of vuta pumz.

Anyway, so on my way to the campus field where I do my thing, I met a couple all smiles, holding hands, looking starry eyed and all. Saw a similar thing on my way back. Got me thinking. Could that be me? The ocassional times I've been engaged in hand-holding is when my hand was promptly grabbed and letting go is pretty tricky and difficult to do, even when the whole world is staring at you. I'm definitely not the romantic type.

Nature is dealing us seconds .....

Can you believe these weather punks?
About two days ago they told of draught, lack of rain of unprecedented magnitude.

It is now 10:54 AM and it is raining furiously outside.
If I made such an error of judgment in my work I would be burnt at the stake.

Image is nothing ...

For the longest time, I was just a face behind a computer screen. Quiet, unobtrusive, laid back. And for the longest time I was ignored (by women, I might add). This was not particularly a bad thing, neither a thing that you relish, just one of those things that just are; that you don't have any feeling or opinion. (I have many of such).

Until we took a company sponsored trip to a resort out in the wild. Alas, there was plenty of free alchohol. Never one to shy off, I imbibed a quantity and inevitably, things began to unravel. I am told, that I took a very comical turn. The tongue came loose, and suddenly I could not stop talking; I was not afraid of anyone.

The following Monday, I could not hide behind my usual dour mask; It was in the open that I could talk a great deal. I can't exactly remember at what point from my "talking" debut, that a certain lady started offering advice on a wide range of issues, for instance: How the hem of a man's trousers should look like. That women look at your belt? Did you guys know that? No, I did not think so. Shoes with slant soles? Na Na. It was impressed on me, listen to this, that I have potential and should stop looking haggard (eeeew!) and dishevelled and a slew of other adjectives that accurately reflected my state of dress at the time.

That stung to the quick. Seeing that I could improve my dating life drastically, if I follow my colleague's advice was even more motivation. So I walked into a shop and walked out with 2 pairs of prim looking shoes for a painful 6000 bob. I did a few other choice buys, and in short order, shillings 10,000 disappeared.

If you are thinking I got the attention I craved you are mistaken. It occurred to me, after some reflection, that for 10000, I was very decently dressed but not outstanding. Have to squeeze out a few more bucks for that brother. For my effort, all I got was a soundless nod from my haute couture adviser.

I am a very practical man. I have a very uncultured walk, mainly because it is practical and gets me where I want to go. So my two pairs of shoes got a sole slant quite fast. Alas, that quickly put them out of contention as "presentable, imageable" wear.

The pocket (or rather, the emptiness of it) talks to you in a decisive and convincing manner. Thus an unspoken decision came to pass that I will not buy shoes (or any other apparel for that matter) simply because the angle of inclination has changed, or a little loss of colour has happened to the fabric.

I threw out the "dress good" theories out the window, albeit guiltily. You see, it is hard to ask a blind man who has seen the light to be blind again. Of course, I cannot return to my earlier cocoon. Everyone used to dismiss me as a nerd and go about their business. My good lady friend has realised that some things cannot change and has desisted from trying to instill a "dress sense" in me. Not too bad after all.

How do people survive dates?

I've always found dating rather tedious and have treated it with loads of apprehension. Case in point. Saturday evening. I'm lying in my bed listening to music. [I've been told to stop spending so much time in bed, but what is a guy to do if he doesn't read, watch telly or have a galfriend?]

Anyway. So I get a call from this chic I met some time back. She's in town. Can we meet. I do the math. Ok. That's crap. How are you meant to say no to a chic. I haven't acquired that skill yet, so I head to town. After the usual, how've you been, how was your week, how was your day routine, I'm stumped. What to say. I can see she's all psyched up, but I can't think of anything witty or funny to say. Or anything. The fact that Liverpool were playing may have had a bit to do with it. To make it worse, the times I happened to look at the TV screen across me, the other team was celebrating. [Apparently at some point they were 3-1 down to Luton!]

However, my concerns remain, even taking away the football. When I hang out with the handful of friends that I have, I don't have to be funny, or witty, or think about what I'm about to say 10 times before I say it. I don't have to worry about how she'll interpret what I've just said. I can watch football for 2 hours without engaging them in conversation.

I don't know how you guys do it. And those coffee type dates are the worst. At least at a pub there's music, and at the movies you can actually watch the movie. I'm slowly starting to see why I'm unattached, and why this will remain so for the foreseeable future.

My Apologies, KenyanGal

I am sorry about the comments moderation thing.

There is this Cleopatra post I created earlier. Now one Samborera got very curious, and to exterminate his curiosity, I revealed the real identity of the person (who is senior in my place of work).

I thought by enabling moderation, I could edit posted comments: Unfortunately, I don't know how it works and I was unable to edit comments where we had adversely mentioned the person's name.

We have a content filter sitting at the firewall (and probably has picked up this blog for "suspected use of offensive language"; yeah, I have been bad and posted some not very nice things before). I could not risk the Sys Admin reading logs and the senior person's name appearing. That's why I erased the post.

Everything is restored now. I will publish your comments.

A rant

I haven't talked about work for ages on this blog, or any other place come to think of it. Inevitably, another rant is due.

I've been really struggling to come to work so far this week. I actually slept at 2am Sunday night, knowing full well I'll probably not be able to get up in time for work the next day. Yesterday, I was up till 1. This from a guy who needs like 10hrs of sleep every day. Given, my general mood has been a bit on the downer of late.

I feel I have learnt a lot of stuff here, and my learning here is over. I look around me and see people who are so content with themselves. Perhaps they earn six figures. Perhaps they have millions in stock and just come to work to avoid the boredom of staying at home. I've started wondering how people work at one place for 20 years. It's seems to me like guys are just glad to take a pay cheque home every month. A job should be more than that. Can be more than that.

The first time I decided to quit, I was confident that I'd be cool with whatever happened thereafter. I even managed to save some money for the first time since I started working, in anticipation of the cash flow problems to follow. Since that time, I found it difficult to limit my spending as I'd vowed to. I found it difficult to stop going out, as I needed to. Not being able to buy credit or buy stuff I wanted was also hard. No responses to job applications also woke me up to the fact that this may go on for quite a while.

As a colleague of mine keeps saying and pointed out again yesterday, we say all sorts of stuff but still come to work. "You don't have to work here", he correctly pointed out. So why am I still here. I have been convincing myself that it's because of financial obligations to my family. [Most people who I tell that I live with my mother [invariably chics], insist that I must be really irresponsible, with loads of cash to myself. Well, I am somewhat irresponsible]. Anyhow, as the cliche here goes, "there comes a time" [That's how everybody who leaves this place starts their final emails].

That time has come for me. I will leave my current employ at the beginning of March. That will make it 2 years having worked here. Nice round figure that I can tell people. I will give notice at the end of this month. I've recently woken up to the reality that I may not get another job in 3 months, 6 months, 2 years, a lifetime. I am ready to lie in the bed I make.

The first day of the rest of my life

Indeed.

Depressed or not. Bored or not. Getting old or not. Whatever the case, change is happening. Agwambo would say the tsunami is here. Perhaps it's just a phase, mood swing, a passing feeling, like many I've had before. We'll see.

Unbelievable

There was a time when I used to see references to Orca and just laugh. [The non-techies can stop reading here] Laugh at how ludicrous it would be to create/edit windows installer setups using this archaic tool. Today, I had to actually search for, install and use Orca! Incredible. An indication of the kind of day I've had, trying to get some windows installer patch to work, but getting 'Internal error 2715' no matter what I try. I've been laughing at myself most of the afternoon. [My workmates already think I'm crazy so nobody found that too strange] Life is truly interesting.

Waxing philosophical

I was telling Philosopha the other day how my outlook on life has been changing recently. I've tended to be rather philosophical about things. I think I'm growing old. Well. I am growing old indeed, but this is much more than not being able to stay on the dance floor the whole night. This has everything to do with the way I think. I find myself seeing things through a veneer of some sort. Perhaps I'm depressed. Well. That can't be. I'm on an antidepressant. What then. I'm not sure. All I know is the difference I feel. It's palpable albeit indescribable at this moment. What I don't know is where this current mindset will lead.

Have A Good One

Wolap. Habari zenu? 2005 was real, 2006 is in. Make your resolutions, beak them real quick and get down to business.

Cleopatra.

There is a new lady working in the Information Systems Audit office. In a few sentences I will tell you what she is:

1. Very brilliant, intellectually.
2. Glamorous, styled up.
3. Beautiful, very beautiful.
4. Young. About 28 years of age.
5. Not married.
6. Earns her own money. Drives a Subaru.

When she enters the lift, there is palpable silence.
When she leaves the lift, there is a collective draw of breath. The rude jokes that guys make are absent.
She has a cool, coooool demeanour. Its as if she can rip out your intestines while sipping on a glass of wine.
Even the known players are sitting this one out.

There is nothing you can tell this woman. These are the kind God made not to be touched; Just to be observed.

The regret

It's now 2325. I was just about to head home. I figured I might as well refresh my inbox before I leave. Staring at me is an email from a Microsoft contact. They will be pursuing other candidates whose background and abilities more closely match their needs at this time.

That's more like it. A response. A rapid response. A very rapid response. Well, I'm not laughing as hard as I was before, but it's been fun all the same.

It's back to business as usual tomorrow, or as we used to say in primo, "back to boiro".

The call

It's now 2254. I've been twiddling my thumbs [as aJamaa would say] for the past 4 hours, upto just about half an hour ago. I just got the call. It's only a first, phone interview, but it's an interview all the same. I can't stop laughing. I just got off the phone with a Microsoft recruiter. Can you believe it. I can't. I mean. I hear Celtel are hiring and I haven't gotten any response from them. Safaricom either. Those were the first places I fired off my cv to. I'm still going to send off my cv to the local banks, but as a friend noticed, it takes ages to get a response to a job application. A regret letter would probably be too much effort, but email is basically free, and a click away. And you can spam all of us job seekers with a regret email at one go. I can't get an interview here but I can at Microsoft? Ludicrous!

For a moment there I stopped laughing. Anyway. So. The call. Right on time, to the minute. A lovely lady on the other end. Some general questions. Then some general C++ questions, only I can't remember C++! I hope she saw the funny side. I certainly am. I'm not giving away any details. It would be too embarassing.

The Arsenal - Man U match is already underway, but I'm in no hurry to get home. I can't wait for Thursday. That's when I get to know how the interview went, and if there'll be another. Well, possibly Friday since they are like a whole day behind. I hope I did good. I so much want to have done good.

PS:
I just had a thought. There are probably loads of guys who've been and will be interviewed who've been coding in C for ages, tinkering with the Linux kernel and stuff. Why can't I stop laughing. This is hilarious. Wacha I go and swatch, or attempt to swatch. Happy new year to you all. I'm certainly happy this new year.

There's no way

For the longest time, I was content at my current job. Then somtime towards the end of 2005 there was a downward spiral. I did what a lot of my friends and family had wanted me to do. I started looking for another job. Started looking for email addresses to send my cv off to [I've never liked the idea of dropping off a brown envelop with my plea for employment at some receptionist's desk. I'm probably just lazy and don't like walking around town].

Anyway, I asked for email addresses to fire off my cv to, and sure enough got some. As the outcome to one of these, I may be doing a phone interview with a Microsoft recruiter today evening. [I say may because these guys, unlike their Kenyan counterparts, respond like flash himself. I'd sent a couple of emails towards New Year then I check my inbox today morning and find an email sent on 30th Dec asking me to confirm if I'll be available for a phone interview today! And I was meant to respond within 24 hours. Anyway, we'll see what happens.]

As it is, I'm pretty excited. So much so I won't be doing much work today. For me, appreciation has always been a big deal, and I've struggled to find a sense of self worth all my life. Whether I finally get to go to Redmond or not is not the biggest deal. For me, the big deal is that somebody is telling me I have value. I am worth something. I can contribute something to this world. THAT is a big deal. When this somebody happens to be one other people regard highly, that's just icing on the cake.

I met a guy at the turn of the new year who was a year behind me in campus, and he spoke of how I was an inspiration to him/guys. THAT's the stuff that counts. That I can make a difference in someone's life. What's the point of having a big job or title and loads of money in the bank if you don't make a difference in other people's lives. Pointless.

So. I wait.