Random

OK, for anyone that still uses some sort of manually updated address book thingy, please note that my primary email address from here on will be mike@bremensaki.com. The whole Bremen Saki website thingy will finally be getting sorted out once and for all soon, and this blog will be moving there.

Of course, all the old stuff will be redirected and repointed and stuff, because I'm not large with the whole "clean break" concept. Hell, my email address from 1996 still works.

Of course, this is more part of the folding up of the "Grouse" identify and de-emphasising that, than it's about starting something new.

What he said. Although I'm not one to talk when it hits the depths of winter and I don't want to go anywhere without my doona.

Dear Mum,

How have you been? Last week I helped to overthrow the government. It was fun.

I must remember to call you sometime soon. Maybe this will remind me.

Love,
Mike.

It's well known in the IT industry that security is a process, as opposed to a product or something. By this, we mean that there's no such thing as a boxed item that can fix problems, no matter what the reassuring face of Mr Norton might imply. It is an ongoing saga, in which ease is traded for safety, and back again, and adapted again as new information comes to light.

Often, what causes this information to come to light is a disaster. A loss, or a scare, or just an uneasy feeling that something's not quite right. In the course of disaster, lines of communication open and data gets shared; "Is this happening to you too?"

In the course of these exchanges, the ideal security process takes new data in, asks questions that this data raises, an often brings things to light as potential matters to incorporate, even if they're not directly related to the immediate issue at hand. The security process is, of course, driven by people. This sort of brings me towards my point.

So now let's talk about people ...

People do not necessarily know things that I know unless I tell them.

... I had a great night out last night, one that I really needed, and it was all awesome.

On the other hand, I should probably not be allowed near computers when I'm drunk. Maybe something like one of those car locks that shuts everything down if you've got alcohol on your breath could be adapted.

So it appears that I'm writing in this thing again. I must be bored. I've noticed that trend, actually. I blog less when I have something to do, which means that the only time I actually write entries, I don't have anything to say. I really should get out of the house more ... except I have no idea what to do or where to go or with whom. Great.

I hit a woman's car in the car park early last week and even she hasn't called me. I don't know what that says about me ...

I just found a $5 note trapped under a bush near my mailbox.

It's a small thing, but maybe the universe is going to start being nice to me again. That'd really be appreciated, universe.

Worst. Day. Ever. So I figured I'd whine about it in my blog. That's what it's for, right?

Well, not really worst ever, but it's the worst one recently, so it gains extra points for proximity.

Started with me being empty-headed and forgetting to take stuff to work. Fortunately (or not so much) Eris was not at school due to feeling unwell, so Lisa took her to my mum's and dropped stuff off on the way. Yay Lisa.

Read about a truck crashing into a train about the time I was going to leave, and decided to let things settle for an hour or so before heading out on the road.

Never made it to the road, because one of my tyres was flat. When going to change it, it transformed from a momentary inconvenience into a major problem. All the wheel nuts except one came loose easily. The last one, as I strained to turn it, stripped into something more circular than hexagonal, leaving nothing to turn it with.

I decided to say "fuck it" at this point, and walked to the bus stop at Monash, deciding not to wait around for the RACV, since all I wanted was food and a beer. Got to Clayton station and boarded a train that smelled of wee. Got to Flinders Street and found no indication of a Werribee train on anything. Wandered to platform 5, where it was revealed that the next Werribee train was half a fucking hour away.

Two minutes later, a train pulls up under a "not taking passengers" display, which then briefly flickers into the magical word "Werribee" and details its plans to leave in two minutes. Good thing I didn't give up and go and get the drink I was craving.

Board the train, get a seat, huge person squeezes me up against the wall, which I take with gentle good humour. At least I'm going in the right direction.

Drunk guy on the train explains to anyone listening that, "trains can move electricity at one hundred miles an hour -- that's the same class as car speeds".

Disembark at Newport, aforementioned drunk guy and another drunk guy decide to fight on the platform. Williamstown train arrives. Three Connex "inspectors" or whatever the hell they are, are onboard. A couple of people indicate the fight on the platform. Mumbling, they move down the other end of the train and thank us for informing them. I never see them again. What the hell are they for? Oh yeah, revenue protection.

Finally meet Lisa for dinner. She listens to me whine about stuff, we eat, talk about life and stuff, eat good food, drink beers, I feel a bit better.

I have some sort of plan to recover my car on Wednesday. I don't need it this weekend. I've got four days off, and they better be an improvement on my fucking week so far.

Two sleeps until I get to hug my daughter. That always helps.

Ladies, if a domineering gentleman ever tells you to "grow a brain", you will!

I could answer the above question easily if I knew if the word for when you're feeling ecstatic, terrified yet optimistic, somewhat uncertain, elated, worried and astounded all at the same time.



If it exists, it's probably a German word. They're good at summing up that kind of thing.



I think I'll have to forgo honest replies to that question for the moment and just stick with, "Fine, thanks!"