Dentally Disturbed

So I went to the dentist today. Aside from the light - you know the one they have on the arm? - that detached and fell on my face, I had a disturbing visit to my dental health care professional. More than usual anyways.

There's a bit of history coming up, so get comfy.

Let's go back to Moby's grade school days. See him with his short-sighted squint (Dad insisted I didn't need glasses), his picked-last-for-sports figure and coordination. His hand-me-downs from his uncle. Ah what a picture. I told ya to get comfy.

Now my grade school participated in a program where young student dentists could practice their new-found skills on the (unsuspecting) little kiddies. My guess is that since they would be working on baby teeth, any mistakes etc would have no long term effects. They would get practical experience and kids would get free dental work. That suited my Dad just fine. Free dental care for three growing boys? Why not?

Well let me tell ya why not.

Some of the dentists-to-be (most, okay all the ones I went to) decided that if the teeth are going to fall out anyways, might as well make the best of it. Every kid in my class had each and every molar filled. Almost every kid wound up with the cheapest, ugliest set of periodontal work that these wannabes could stuff in their pre-pubescent mouths. And let me tell you, these guys were not gentle. Tales of broken teeth, punctured cheeks (mine, left side) insufficient or just plain not administered Novocaine (l'il Bro G). Every kid in my school absolutely dreaded visits to the dentist. My brothers and myself actually managed to avoid the wire-cage look, but my Dad kept giving us shit for not brushing and flossing (which we did with much rigor in a futile attempt to avoid the inevitable and excruciating).

Now fast forward a bit to high school. See Moby with the gangling limbs, the coke-bottle lenses set in the cheapest rims imaginable (my Dad finally relented after my teacher had a long, long talk with him) and the hand-me-downs from his uncle. This high-school also participated in the program. However this time, it wasn't milk-teeth, it was the permanent ones they were working on. In my first visit I received two "fillings" which were completely unnecessary: they just drilled holes to fill them in.

Fortunately for me, the program was discontinued in my second year. Unfortunately for me, my Dad was pissed: there was no way he was going to pay for seeing a dentist twice a year. So for the next three years, it was me and my toothbrush against the universe.

Now fast forward a bit to my (first) term at University. See Moby with the shoulder length, thick, wavy chestnut hair, his groovy glasses, his uncle's hand-me-downs (which were actually tres chic retro at the time). He can't afford to go to the dentist, but he brushes and flosses every day. His one visit was for a cleaning: there was a girl he was trying to impress. He received a clean bill of health (aside from the nicotine stains).

Now fast forward (sorry) again to six years ago. It's been fourteen years since Moby has seen a dentist. His teeth are not in good shape. For the past decade and a half, he could barely afford food, let alone dentistry. He has a molar that has split, exposing the nerve. He has wisdom teeth that ache constantly. But now, now he has dental coverage and he takes advantage of it. His girlfriend at the time recommends her dentist and can get me in with a recommendation. Moby books an appointment.

I think I really grossed the dental assistant out. I know I gave the dentist an orgasm.

Years of plaque were removed with monthly visits. The broken tooth was ground down and a temporary crown put in place. Four wisdom teeth were yanked bodily out and the final cap put in. Even though coverage paid for half of the work, the bill was indeed quite hefty. But worth it: I was no longer in pain, my teeth were white(r) and I could chew on both sides of my mouth.

Then something odd happened. I began to grind my teeth. I mean grind. So much so that I would wake up in the morning and my jaw would feel like I had been chewing stale bubble-gum all night.

Over the course of the next couple of years, my (new) dental hygienist and the dentist told me my gums were receding. This was true, I could see where the roots of a couple of my molars were exposed. The dentist said I needed to get a special "appliance" that would prevent me from grinding my teeth. He would keep saying that until today, where he added that if it continues (i.e. without the $1500 piece of plastic) I would need to get painful surgery. I still said no, using the excuse that at the moment I could not afford it.

I went home and did some research.

While indeed grinding of the teeth can cause the recession, it's only a contributing factor. Other include: using a harsh toothpaste (like the whitening one I use) brushing too hard with a hard toothbrush (which I realized I do) and age. It happens.

Maybe I get it from my old man. But honestly ,when someone who is essentially a health care professional immediately recommends the $1500 solution without mentioning any of the alternatives or possibilities, well the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.

I went to the drug store after work and picked up three things: a less harsh toothpaste (which cost about double what I get now), a sonic toothbrush (about $150) and an "appliance" which, after following the instructions to mold it to my bite, cost $1470 less than my dentist's "solution".

I am really hoping the above works for no other reason than to go into the dentist's office in six months, show him the recede-less gum line and tell him to, well, I'm trying to think of something witty here, and I have six months to do so.

Maybe I'll just bite him.

Statement of the Obvious

And now my whinging has some scientific proof.

Drop It

Been a bit of a klutz the past twenty-four hours.

Last night at a local pub, I dropped a table on my big toe. I was there with a bunch of my former minions from the last job. Besides all of them asking if there was work for them at my new place, they said I looked quite happy, which, apparently, came as a bit of a shock. It was good to see them as they are a good crew, I'll see what I can do for them (or at least most of them). Seems things aren't going so hot in some cases.

So besides having a big, bloody, purple big toe the night went quite well.

This morning I accidentally dropped my phone in the toilet (see the theme here?). Apparently cell phones aren't water proof (yes it was just water). I'll be looking for a phone tomorrow. Looks like I've been a bit of a klutz as of late, which kinda makes the idea of making fried perogies right now probably a bad idea. I probably should get the steel-toed boots out in case of further accidents.

I Hear Voices

Well I do. My ears work pretty well.

But specifically I've been using my web cam and mic to record something i like to call Smokin' with Moby. No, I don't post it online. This blog is my public face and the video is my private one. And kind of my therapist. At least when I talk to myself I can justify it by recording it.

One thing that struck me is my voice. It sounds pretty much like I expect it to, but for some reason I tend to talk in a bit o a higher tone that my normal voice. I also seem to end my sentences in a higher tone that when I start. I did a little research and apparently it gives a subtle hint to other that the speaker is not all that confident in what they are saying.

I also noticed that I do that when I'm not in front of a camera. I have a very bass voice, so much so that a lot of people can't hear it all that clearly. I may have raised it half an octave just to make sure I'm heard.

Now I'm making an effort to get my vocal range back to normal, and stop raising it at the end of my sentences. It's actually harder than I thought and: speech patterns are an acquired habit I guess. So if you see me and my voice sounds like I'm gargelling gravel, that's my actual voice. I'm so gonna be Moby Vader....

And yes, I'll be posting a full (very full) review of Mass Effect. It's taking longer than I thought. And also, er, this is now available.

Soundtrack Offline

Well, that's it for me and iTunes.

As reported earlier, I built myself a new machine and (eventually) moved all my music to a portable drive. This week, I plugged in the iPod (yes, it had been a while since I had changed up the playlist). Since I had agreed (apparently) that the tunes I purchased online would only play on a single machine, I couldn't play anything I had already bought and paid for on my new computer nor my iPod.

There's probably a way around that (like calling customer service etc) but I figured why bother? I had 100 songs I purchased on iTunes, now all unavailable to me because I did the unthinkable: I got a new computer. Nobody ever does that.

So, yeah, I'm not purchasing anything from iTunes anymore. Besides, I've had problems on there before: music downloads wouldn't, the user interface didn't etc. Really, the application itself is (in my somewhat expert opinion) a kludge with only the most basic functionality, poorly executed and often times counter-intuitive at that. Not to mention I have been noticing the difference in sound quality for the native iTunes format and CD.

Of course this means that any inclination to get an iPhone has departed, my next portable digital audio device will not be an Apple product and I'll continue buying CDs (can you say Amazon.com?). That sounds bitter, even for me, but frankly I'm out $100. But I'll still use the iTunes store to sample any planned purchases in the future. Hey I'm a "forgive and forget" kinda guy.

No, wait, that's "hold a grudge until the grave" kinda guy.

Traitors Abound!

I'm home from work early as my gastro-intestinal system is revolting. In both senses of the word. It actually hasn't acted up in a quite a long while (to this extent, at any rate) so this is kind of a "Pearl Harbor" spasm. Looking back on it, eating sushi from a place called "Pearl Harbor" should have been a big hint.

Of course it may be divine (or abysmal) retribution for being a bad man this weekend. Previously I hinted I didn't want to jinx something. That something was a response from my almost-forgotten experiment on Craig's list. After about two weeks of communication, she indicated that she was in the process of getting a divorce which is a deal breaker for me. Is divorced is fine. In fact at this time-of-life it's almost become expected. But in the process of has two very definitive issues for me.

In the first place, I've seen what can happen when one of the parties decides to "get out there" in the middle of the process. What may have been an amicable split becomes a litigious frenzy of recrimination and emotional devastation. And honestly, who needs that kind of drama? Yes, I know, it's entirely possible that two people can go through a divorce as honest, mature adults. I have yet to see that happen, but I acknowledge the possibility.

In the second place (is that an actual phrase?) someone who has been in a relationship for a longer period of time needs to reset themselves to themselves as a single unit. A grieving period, discovering yourself, whatever you want to call it. Basically the opportunity to re-invent the person as "me without the other person". Otherwise there is a real danger that the person you are about to date is filling that hole, with all the expectations, frustrations etc that were focused on the recently-departed baggage focused on the new interest. Again, drama on an operatic scale which frankly I neither want nor need.

Her reaction when I explained that I'm not comfortable dating someone going through a divorce (having seen and experienced what that can do to the people and proceedings) was a) we were not communicating for the purposes of a relationship (which struck me as odd as the ad was placed under "men seeking women") b) You (Moby) are damaged goods for not wanting to see someone going through a divorce. And c) she mentioned her ex-to-be has already started dating which made me think "great, so you're looking for someone to show him you're out there, too?". Maybe a bit cynical, but hey, experience tells. And if I am damaged goods (a very distinct possibility) why put myself into a position where more damage can be done?

Of course, I feel like a heel for shutting down things so abruptly (she seems like a very nice woman with a lot to offer). I've learned the hard way that you need to go with your gut, even if it is unreliable in it's actual biological function. Now if you excuse me, I have to once again, er, you don't want to know.

Rain, Rain, Go Away. Seriously, F-off!

I think I've ruled out Vancouver as a possible place of residence. Two weeks of solid rain in Calgary. It's given me the blues, trending toward black in my mood as of late. I've gone beyond grumpy into downright cantankerous.

Much condolence to Capa for the loss of his dog, friend and family member. That's always hard. He was a good dog, even though I only met him a couple of times. Big, dumb and friendly, just the way I like them.

So nothing new to report over the past while: I'm at forty hours playing "Mass Effect" and I went all fanboi by buying the novel tie-in, the art book and the strategy guide (it was a bundle) on Amazon. A game hasn't awed me this much in quite a while. Full review when I finish.

That's about it really: keepin' on keepin' on.

Hit Me!

My company just did it's semi-annual profit share yesterday and although I just came under the wire with my starting date and got a small cheque, the potential for the next one is huge. Let me put it this way, the amount of the cheque I just received that covers off one week work at the new place is worth about 10% of the grand total of bonus cheques I've received in the past 10 years. Bling, baby.

And the stock purchase program (where you can contribute 20% of your salary which they match one-for-one) starts in a couple of weeks. Meaning the next year is going to be lean, but dear gods the payoff. Thankfully I have quite a nice little nest egg stowed away and there are three "three pay cheque months" in that time so the budget is tight but not overly restrictive.

On the game front, I just picked up Mass Effect for the PC and played it for about eight hours over two days. It's very reminiscent of KotOR (well, it is a BioWare game so no surprise) but instead of drawing on the Star Wars franchise they've created a milieu out of whole cloth. While they are sticking to many of the standard space opera tropes, it's extremely well executed and only enhanced by some fantastic voice-acting (including some Hollywood names, which is nice to see. I mean hear.). Too early for a final verdict but a preliminary rating of eight out of ten coffin-nails with a couple of screwdrivers so far. I was getting a tad upset about the convolutions I had to go through to actually get my hands on the game but now I'm thinking it's well worth it.

And despite the urge to fire it up again, I have too many chores to do for a Saturday (dammit) including, well ... no. Don't want to jinx it. And of course long time readers of this humble journal know exactly what that means.

Does Management Give You ADD?

I've noticed something about the new job. Or rather, I noticed something about myself at the new job. I can't concentrate for more than forty-five minutes at a time, even when I'm coding.

I suspect being a team lead has given me ADD.

For those who haven't been in lower-middle-management, it's basically fielding all the little problems that come along in the course of a day. Someone comes to you with a problem, you make a decision and either do some work to fix it or delegate. You rarely, if ever, get to really get into one particular thing for any length of time. "Multi-tasking", even though I despise the term, is almost appropriate here.

With my voluntary demotion, I'm out of that game. Before my rise into under-paid over-responsibility, I would lose track of time completely when I got into the zone. Now, the zone is just a dot on the horizon. I'm hoping I can make my way back there (it's only been two months) but still it's a bit scary.

And in other news: still single. Just thought I'd mention that.

"Hi Mom!"

Oh dear gods in heaven my mother just got on to Skype.

Now understand this is a woman who as resistant to technology as Teflon is to Jell-O. She still refers to the little checklist I put together to start a movie on the DVD player three years ago. The answering machine gives her nightmares (gods forbid the thing kicks in before she picks up the phone. Ten minutes of confusion followed by me giving her a message).

I love my Mom, really I do. But this simply does not bode well. She's the only member of my family who does not consider me the free tech-support guy. And I have been very, very thankful for that. The brain signals crossing the concept of "Mother" and "Support Client" simply cannot cope with the huge conflict.

Argh.

Diary of a Mad Zombie

To complete my weekend movie reviews, we have Diary of the Dead. It's Mr. Romero's direct-to-DVD release which does the whole "let's shoot it with a handy-cam" thing a la Cloverfield and Blair Witch Project.

It's not going to win the Oscar for best picture. The actors, portraying college students, are little stiff and the dialog is tad contrived. It does insert a new take on the handy-cam thing: footage from various other cameras (security cams, raw TV footage etc.) are sprinkled throughout. It gets the message across very well: right now we have so many media inputs, what the heck is the truth? How do you stabilize all the spin?

So the final rating is 7 of 10 smokes but I'm also giving it a full six screwdrivers for some of the amazingly creative ways to kill zombies. Two of the vodka-and-orange juice are just for the scenes where the walking dead are taken out by arrows. Mr. Romero, my hat's off to you (leaving my cranium exposed of course).

'K', Bored Now

A week of rain. The long weekend was so promising: the first May LW in about ten years where long-johns and scarves weren't required. And now, precipitation for five days straight. Bored and slightly blue.

So I watched a lot of movies. A alot of movies.

Lessee. Let's start with a block-buster. the social club at work sponsored a special screening of the Indiana Jones movie. I'll give it, er, what rating system do I use, oh yeah 4 out of 10 cigarettes. Not the best of the Jones franchise (that would be the first one) but about on par with the worst. No spoilers here, so let's just say a fundamental plot pattern was violated. There were a couple of times I saw this film racing up the ramp (you know the one, it has a shark just beyond it) but veered off at the last second. Still considering the tripe coming out of La-La land, not a bad film. Just, please, Mr. Lucas, please stop there.

For a bad film, go try Vexille. Or rather, don't. What is it about Japanese animation (a lot of it at least) where they go into the most intricate visual detail and nuance with the scenery (especially the technology) and then have the character's faces about as animated as a hammer? Wait, that implies some kind of movement. Rock? Wax figure? My love-life? Yeah that works. I actually managed to finish this one after stopping and starting three times (insert another love-life joke here). I picked it up for $20 which is kind of the "what the hell?" point of impulse buying for me. I am now thinking what I could have done with that twenty bucks. One old crumpled cigarette butt.

Now Hogfather on the other hand is quite brilliant. Made for TV this sucker is four hours long but keeps very faithfully to the Terry Pratchett novel with only dropping a few passages. For example no Librarian. Now I totally understand he wasn't cogent to the main plot, but still. The editing was a little, er, "loose" and I got the impression that there was a limited number of takes per scene, but this was made for TV, so I can forgive. Highly recommended for rabid Disc World fans and for those who like a little humor in an otherwise insipid Christmas movie list. Ridcully is perfect, and Susan (Michelle Dockery) is fantastic as Susan Death. And she has those big, dark brown eyes that make me ... er ... yeah sorry. It's extremely rare to find a holiday movie that I would insist my kids watch. If I had kids. Wanted kids.8 and a half out 10 smokes. And that's only because it took so damn long to be released in North America. Don't the Brits know how desperate we are over here for intelligent entertainment?

Now a movie that I think stood up to the hype is Cloverfield. There's a part of me that is really sick of watching beautiful twenty-something in everything so seeing them wiped out by a rampaging monster made me feel a little better. And it's also a good movie. Great concept which got me wondering what of the classic sub-genres would be good in the handy-cam style of remake. Seven of ten cancer-sticks. Bonus screwdriver for ending the way it did.

Which is why I'm watching Diary of the Dead tonight! That and the little brothers don't want to go to the peelers. Usually my life is sex or violence. Or at least simulated.

Cake and Kids

Whalp, .500 is a pretty good average in baseball. That's the correct sport, right?

Cake was amazing but way too short at just over an hour. I was hoping they would go at least 90 minutes but I got the impression they weren't thrilled with the folks here in Cowtown, so they busted out early. Anyways and regardless, great show. Thanks to Big M and all his friends for showing up and while still making feel old, I do feel better about it.

As for Kids in the Hall, well there was a move from a 7PM start time to 9:30PM. Now if I wasn't attending solo, it would have been no problem to retire to one of three pubs in the area I enjoy and have a few before the show. Since I was doing the singularity thing though, retiring to one of three pubs in the area I enjoy and having a few before the show by myself is just too sad to contemplate. Besides, past experience from my rock 'n' roll years says if it's delayed that long, it probably ain't gonna happen.

So I'm at a loss of what to do on a Saturday night. Not that unusual in and of itself, but this time it was unexpected. I did buy a whole pile of books when I went for lunch with Capa but frankly I don't feel very literary tonight. And I'm not quite so desperate to look on Craig's list for "casual encounters". Yet. We'll see how the ping is on my game servers.

Back to Normal

Okay it's obvious with my last few entries that my normal kvetching, never-ending gripe was put on hold for a little while. So, back at it.

Or rather, today was just one of those days. I was actually given a task of some merit and frankly I kept fucking it up, looking like a total twat in front of my new colleagues. I could probably say a bunch of stuff that would sound like excuses and evasions (and in one case that would be accurate). Let's just say that it's not fun walking into a giant system operation where everyone on your team has been working on it for 3+ years. One made a comment that "we are here to work" after I put on my coat to go have a smoke. Which I grant you I've been doing too much of lately out of boredom.

All in all the job is still good, I think (hope) I just had a bad day. An alarm bell went off though. The code I had to fix was a mess and the technical aspects of the promotion procedures left something to be desired, like fucking documentation or a reasonable sense of consistency. I quickly came under the impression that the entire system is a very large and functional prototype. I've had very bad experiences with systems like this: they tend to be outgrown by demand extremely quickly and become a nightmare to maintain, forget about expand.

I really hate the three month probation period. It makes me anxious and paranoid. More than normal I mean.

That and I'm sick again which is getting on my tits. I've had two weeks in the past eight where I was reasonably healthy. The other six have been filled with tissues and Tylenol; snot and sniffing.

I'm a little grumpy today obviously.

Ahoy!

I signed up for sailing lessons! It goes four Saturdays in July, it's on a reservoir instead of the deep blue and there's a fairly good chance I'll do myself some kind of nautical harm. It'll be with L'il Bro' G which means I'll be giving him rides and why he encouraged me to sign up.

It was that or sky-diving. Considering the phrase "worse things happen at sea" I think I took the more dangerous of the two choices. Sailing is analog: all kinds of things can go wrong. Skydiving is digital: you hit the ground at a safe speed or you don't. Either way, there's a great potential for a splash.

Well it gets me out of the house. And that sounds somewhat morose but I'm actually excited about it. Far too many pirate games and naval history books lately for me not to try it out.

That's about it really. Work is work, home is boring (and messy, need to clean up this weekend), gym is going along fine, love life is dead and buried, books are being read, games are being played, movies are being watched and food is being eaten.

Wait, what am I talking about? I'm seeing Cake on Thursday and the Kids in the Hall on Saturday. Geez... I'm a reg'lar mover and shaker. Okay, nudger and slight vibrator.

Van

Back from Vancouver. It was about a 14-hour day but still wasn't bad. The conference was okay, it's always good to talk to other professionals (even for a few moments) to know that you're really in the same place as most everyone else.

Vancouver though is gorgeous. There were leaves on the trees, pretty girls, the smell of the ocean, droves of hot girls in spring outfits. Did I mention there are a lot of women there? Coming back to Calgary was a bit of a disappointment.

I discussed the very thing with L'il Bros G and B. All the brothers concur that Cowtown is a sausage-fest. It's kinda obvious when you notice it. Going out on the town, you see mostly males. I wonder if it's because Calgary is very much a suburbanites dream. Everyone moves to the suburban wasteland around here. The "cultural" centers are focused on drinking and finding those things associated with being drunk at 2AM.

I'm not moving anytime soon, but lets just say I'll be using my flight deals to go to the coast more than a few times.

Ooooh!

Crisis averted!. That is all.

Now What?

Sigh.

After having reported yesterday that I was happy, or at least not stressed, I now find myself a little bored. The usual distractions of computer games, movies and books have lost their luster. I know, it's only been one day but the ol' ADHD kicks in at the drop of a Ritalin.

The only reason I'm writing this is to spend (okay, waste) a couple of minutes.

Maybe that's a good thing? Maybe it'll get me to get off my butt and do all the stuff I keep putting off? Like, I dunno, drawing or writing or something. I had a passing fancy of buying a bass guitar and learning how to play. I mean I can't smoke continuously.

Idle hands are the devil's playings and all that. What about an idle mind. The Devil's Lego? Eesh.

How to Blind the Neighbors

Me wearing shorts. If it weren't the Wookie-like quality of my legs, I'd be blinding air-traffic.

So yeah, it's nice out, BBQ will be fired up in a couple of hours and all is pretty well with the world. I bet you never thought you'd read that here.

Big Blue is dead. I mean really dead, the whole motherboard is gone, not the AGP slot. Which means I'll have to figure out how to mount the old drives on Black Betty. I should probably rephrase that, but it's about the extent of my life right now.

So not much (again) to report. Maybe the key to happiness is being content with what you have? Nah, can't be that...

I may be going to Vancouver on Thursday for a one-day conference. I'll probably stick around for the weekend if I can, or at least Saturday. Hopefully they have some tall ships at the port. I'd love to have a look now that I know some nautical terminology.

Short and uneventful: now, I have to marinate a New York steak. And water the plants. Stress is now my bitch.

Trends Emerge

I've detecting a pattern. Whenever Moby goes to a social occasion where the average age of the group is twenty-five, Moby drinks 750ml of vodka.

Ugh.

Yesterday in the elevator I ran into one of my former co-op students. he lives in the same building as I do and he had a party yesterday and invited me along. I figured what the hell, better than spending an exciting evening archiving emails and music.

He's a geek, his girlfriend's a geek and all their friends are geeks. Young geeks, so I didn't feel 100% weird (say around 33.3% or so). I did manage to play Rock Band for the first time and it was fun. And I met a very cute, very smart very young chip designer for satellite systems (!) who is totally into Firefly, Guitar Hero, traveling and theatre. I thought she was single but after the fermented potato left my system this morning, I realized we looked at photos from Japan that were taken about a month ago with her boyfriend. I had some real self-delusion going there. There's a part of me that thinks they may have broke up since then. The retarded part who should be euthanized (with fermented potato).

Anyway, got my tax refund and I was correct down to the penny. So big, big bucks for Moby to pay off his new machine and enough to store for when I get to do the 20% of my salary, the company matches 100% thing next month. I did the budget for the next year and it's tight. Thankfully I have two months coming up this year containing 3 paychecks (bi-weekly pay). That and (hopefully) the company semi-annual bonus in November means I'll get away with it but have to cut my impulse spending a bit. A lot. Completely.

Which means I gotta stop going to Best Buy and buying things like: "Cloverfield" (never seen it, love it now), "Heat" (A classic), "Juno" (funny-quirky), "Pan's Labyrinth" (which I hadn't bought yet for some unknown reason), "Lars and the Real Girl" (quirky okay), and "Babylon 5" Season 3 (the geek in me of course). What can I say, I kinda panicked today. And watched two movies. And groaned a bit. And went to the gym. And felt old. Older.

Update: No responses from Craig's List. Which is not surprising as it turns out the email I created for it defaulted to "delete suspected junk email".