Do You, Uh…

So. Where was I?

Ah yes. I was writing. Blog entries and various other tidbits of collated words designed to keep people more or less in the loop. The loop being, of course, a belt loop. Possibly a loup like one might use to examine a piece of jewelry, but I’m not sure why I’d want to keep anyone in one of those.

Here’s what is happening and so you don’t get disoriented, I’ll resort to the warm comfort of bullet points.

• I work for Yahoo! (exclamation mandatory, no lie) now. I realize that for the first time that simple sentence binds me under a thorough blog policy mandated by my employer and I could, like, get fired for writing about them or me or work or anything probably. But I’m willing to risk it because a) it’s the first time I’ve been able to tell people where I work and not have them give me the 1,000 yard stare and a blank nod and b) I really want to talk about Yahoo! related stuff and, well, I can’t unless you have the appropriate context and disclaimers. So, contextually: I work for Yahoo! and if you catch me saying “[Yahoo! Product] is super fly!” you can cast appropriate scorn and derision upon me for being a corporate shill. Also, disclaimers: I now work for Yahoo! so my words and opinions are my own and do not reflect any official Yahoo! position. Sometimes, they don’t even reflect my own position and I just say stuff to be weird.
• For example, “Kumquats are partially responsible for the recession and I’d like to propose a ballot measure to have them strictly regulated and heavily subsidized by our government. Also, made into pies.”
• Since I’m sort of an “Eat Your Own Dog Food” kind of guy, I’ve been spending the last few weeks re-acclimating myself to the Yahoo! site and associated products. When I found Google years ago I basically latched onto it and never looked back. I don’t know how I got the image in my mind of Yahoo! as a mid-nineties dinosaur that had no further relevance for an insufferable snob elite internet power user such as myself, but there it was. Turns out that in a few weeks of re-evaluation they are: Nearly indistinguishable from Google in terms of relevant search results; Possessing of a customizable home page that, in some ways, surpasses Netvibes; Serving as one of the few legitimately tolerable remainders of the misguided “portal” craze.
• My job isn’t flashy at Yahoo!, but it is important. I’m responsible for making sure the other stuff you use the site for stays up and running. Basically Not Mail. But Sports. Finance. News. That sort of thing. In practice it’s almost identical in execution to my last job only I’m not dealing with the unique masochism of telephony technologies which is a phrase much like ice cream cooking.
• Eventually my shift will be 10:30 to 19:00 which will—I hope— allow me to skip most of the traffic in transit to and from Sunnyvale. For the duration of my training, I’m working earlier like 7:30-16:00 or so. What that means is that for a couple of short, blissful weeks I can take the special Yahoo! East Bay Shuttle that goes from a Park and Ride about ten minutes from our apartment directly to Yahoo! HQ. I love not having to drive in traffic, but I love letting someone else drive in it for me even better. It’s a sensation I can best describe as “dreamy.”
• Nik and I celebrated our ninth wedding anniversary last week. Because I had arranged for the time to be available as vacation from my previous employer, I stipulated (lightly) that I would very much like to have it off at the new job even though it would literally be me taking vacation during my training. They accommodated the request which I thought was cool of them and Nik and I had a very enjoyable time off.
• We also made a long-delayed trip to the Shark Tank to see a home game as part of the festivities and we were able to use some of a gift my parents had given me for my birthday (remember that? January? Anyone?) to score the best seats I’ve ever had for a Sharks game. Section 102. Row 17. Right on the ends. It was glorious. The game would have been a triumph for the seats alone, even if it had been some 1-0 snoozer. But instead we were treated to the most exhilarating game I can recall attending. Dramatic see-saw scoring, fisticuffs, a full 5-on-3 penalty (killed by the Flyers), 40+ shots taken by the Sharks and an incredible OT victory. It was so great I was giddy. It was like this: “Man. I’m really giddy.”
• One thing we didn’t enjoy was having to deal with our apartment complex’s maintenance crew. And by crew I mean one overweight guy and his skinny underling who does all the work. This marks the fourth time they switched out our washer because the “renovated” one that came with the unit broke in under six months and they replaced it with a circa 1972 model that had—I’m not making this up—faux wood paneling and was louder than a herd of bison playing rugby in the laundry room. They brought a new model in and forgot to take the safety rod out so we ran it through a few cycles (they did a few of their own to test and make sure I didn’t forget how to twist a knob or something) and the result broke some pivotal component that allowed it to spin during the crucial spin cycle. So they had to interrupt our anniversary to haul up and install a new washer. It was very romantic.

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