Life

It happens.

Working at the Library

For the past two and a half years, I have been what I affectionally refer to as a “libraryman”, or better yet, a man who works at a library (the name stems from a Penny Arcade comic which i became rather fond of once I got the job). Okay, so I didn’t have a library science degree (something required to be a librarian) and my nametag title was “Library clerk”- but I wholeheartedly disagree.

I was a librarymans through and through- having to work with the public directly at the front desk, answer questions, check out books, look up when movies were to be returned and answer the phone- all at the same time, usually. It was a job I loved, a job I was happy to do time and time again. A job that I seriously considered pursing for a career.

I speak with all of this in the past tense, because as of today, I am no longer a librarymans. I was laid off of my job yesterday.

While this didn’t come as a shock (as I had my own gut feeling this would have been happening sooner or later, as rumors spread about the possibility of such a thing occurring had been reverberating around the library for a month or two beforehand), I’m sad to lose this job.

Part of me thought that I could have kept that job until I graduate from college, at least.

It was a job where I had coworkers that I considered to be another family in itself. A family of nutjobs, to be honest, and I say this in the happiest way possible. The family supported one another through thick and thin. When someone was feeling a bit under the weather, others would come in to help them out. When someone was hungry, we’d share food to keep them sated until the end of the day. We all really do care for one another, and do our best to help out the patrons there. This was a group of (mostly) women that would be there to help patrons however they could.

Hell, even the patrons were amazing. There were regulars that would come on a certain basis- bi-weekly, weekly, even daily- to chat with about how their lives were. There was a history professor who knew how my school project were coming along and asked me how they were coming along as he checked out his mystery (and history) books for the week. The father of two girls who always came up to talk shop about the latest Apple news. The ex-gangbanger who would check out the biggest stack of films he could laughing as i told him my usually obtuse and random opinions on the films. The teacher who always struggled to get books back from her reading-frienzied students. They were all regulars I can remember looking forward to seeing day in, and day out.

It all felt right to me. I’m writing this as a sort of catharsis for letting my emotions out. When I was finally able to tell people about my impending last day, there were looks of shock, looks of anger as i realized that I was a part of the patron’s lives as they were of mine. And that made the shortening time I working there even harder. I had so many memories from working there- the good, the bad, and those that made the job all the better. I held on to working there for as long as possible. And now that that last day is passed, I feel as if a chapter of my life has closed. One I wish could have lasted longer, or not have been closed before I had a chance to end it myself, on my own terms.

When I read a recent piece at a Chicago FOX subsidiary contesting the usefulness of libraries, I recoiled and balked in horror. In the din of the everyday craziness that is modern life, to have a place of knowledge and quiet serenity such as the library should be considered to be a welcome haven for many. There were families who couldn’t afford to go to Blockbuster to check out movies, so they’d come in every week for free rentals from the library. Regulars from all sorts of race and age who would come in to enjoy books, CDs, and DVDs. If you wanted to see how much of a melting pot Southern California really was, you could just sit at the library and watch the commotion such a quiet place brings. There wasn’t a day when we didn’t have lines of people checking out books or getting new library cards. Having someone getting angry at me for the littlest thing. If you had an excuse for why the books you checked out were late, chances are, I’d heard it already from someone else. And i enjoyed that. I truly did. (if that doesn’t show how crazy I already am, I don’t know what does)

(by the way- the followup from the Library Commissioner from Chicago to that Fox reporter is the best reaction to such sensationalist piece of journalism. The library is still a wonderful place, and even more so a resource more should use.)

Yeah, I’m incredibly sad about what has gone on and where I plan to go in the future, but I suppose it’s for the best. I plan to shoot some short films while I get ready to apply for transfer to art schools- have a portfolio readied for the fall. Madness, considering I have about a month and a half to do so. (Anyone want to help?)

But I’ll miss being a librarymans. Through thick and thin, it was a job I cared about.

I was a proud librarymans.

The Uncharted 2 Nametag

My current job, working as a library clerk, requires me to have a nametag on at all times. I try to keep it on, but I was having difficulty trying to figure out a way to customize it. After going to one of the theater-demos for Uncharted 2, I finally found a way. Now, I wear my nametag (not pictured) with this lanyard given to me at the demo. I've gotten compliments for it, oddly enough, including someone who works at Naughty Dog.

It's just another way to show how nerdy I am at work.

Posted via email from Daniel’s posterous

The Hackintosh Experience

I needed a laptop. Quite badly, in fact.

It was getting tiresome to be running to the school computer labs after every class to be using Windows XP machines that had barely upgraded to Internet Explorer 7.

It was tiring being the only friend who wasn’t able to check their email, to get things done when I was out and about. So many times I would be stuck at a local coffee shop frequented by myself and my friends, only to be the only one without a laptop, staring into the glowing apple logos of my friends’s laptops as they happily got some work done.

It was getting even more tiring not having a place to write scripts away from home.

Having my iPhone helped some, but I really needed a solution to getting a full keyboard- I even considered getting an external keyboard for the iPhone when I was out and about (only to remember how geeky I looked years and years ago when i was accustomed to typing things out on my handspring platinum and its foldout keyboard in high school)

I started looking into getting my own laptop for a bit, even thinking about saving money to buy a full blown macbook- but even that proved to be rather costly, as the prices starting out at $999 or so was a bit on the stiff side for me. Netbooks became my little solution, and i heavily researched which one I really needed- even pouring through discussion forums and trying to find the right one for me.

Thankfully, Twitter solved all of my problems.

I was following a great writer by the name of Stu Maschowitz, a special effects savant (I say this in the utmost respect and care- the man really knows his shit. Read his blog, ProLost, to read more about his work and what he knows. When he offered to sell his MSI Wind U100 on twitter, I jumped- rather, launched myself at the offer of having something to work upon. He responded quickly, and after meeting Stu on the 16th of April, I came into possession of a MSI Wind U100- one that had been hacked to run the native operating system of Macintosh computers- OS X.

And by god, was it amazing. I quickly redid the system, rehacking it to netbook and friendsrun the latest and greatest that Apple had to offer- OS X 10.6, code named “Snow Leopard” by those in Cupertino, mostly to be able to experience the trials and tribulations such a gray market process had to offer. Such a experiment isn’t for the faint of heart, but in the end, I’ve been happy so far with what this brought forth. There were all sorts of applications I used on OS X that I now have in a portable basis, exclusives such as OmmWriter, CSSEdit, and 1Password that were just amazing to have on the go.

There are some technical problems that were present- the original hackintosh install had no headphone jack support, and subsequent upgrades killed the sleep feature. Even after upgrading the laptop to Snow Leopard, there were kernel panics constantly, which I later found out to be the fault of the bluetooth kext module. Again, it isn’t for the faint of heart, but for those who are accustomed to the Apple platform and want to do something really geeky and fun, it’s not a bad way to go.

Yeah, it’s not a full blown laptop. I’m not going to be able to watch HD videos.
I’m not going to be able to edit video, even SD video.
I’m not going to be playing full blown games. Crysis would give me the middle finger if i tried anything. (although older games might work)
I’m not going to do some crazy shit on this system.

But with what it offers, I’m quite happy, glad even, to have a small laptop that I can take on the go, that I can call my own to get work done without having to be at home, or to sit in a lab with

And my little Hackintosh, Haruko, has been nothing but a joy to work with. She’s my netbook.

my friends can be assholes.

I usually find my friends to be helpful, kind people which I rely on time and time again.

This is not one of those times, unfortunately. This is one of those stories that ends up on the opposite side of the spectrum.

I arrived at my friend Primo’s house one Saturday evening quite hungry, as i had not eaten anything that day. As I am inclined to do time and time again, I raided his fridge for food I came across about two and a half squares of brownies cooked by his girlfriend, Michelle- moist and very appealing brownies to my quite hungry eyes. I tore off the note she left on the note and- to put it simply- I “went to town” on the brownies, eating the baked goods in a slovenly manner. I didn’t care, I was famished.

Primo and another friend, Nick, watched with amusement in the kitchen as I ate the brownies. They waited for me to finish the brownies before laughing hysterically, leaving me quite puzzled as i started picking out small chunks of the brownies still in the inside of the pan. I questioned them on the reason of their laughter, so Primo showed me the note Michelle wrote. It read:

THESE ARE “MAGICAL” BROWNIES! ENJOY!

I froze in shock, looking to the obscene mount of brownies I ate, the pan hanging off of my fingers as my wrist went limp, eyes wide as I glanced back and forth between Primo and Nick in pure horror. Nick chortled and observed that, “Those brownies are going to hit you HARD”.

To say I had a bit of a freak out is putting it midly. I tensed, waiting for the brownies to hit me, to really be stoned for the first time. Primo and Nick took extra care to observe me that night- even going as far as to have Primo instructing Nick to watch me in the car as he went to the ATM so I “don’t have a freakout”.

I was tensing up a lot- sweating, clenching my fists and hyperventilating, waiting for (and I quote Primo on this) “the munchies to kick in”.

We decided to go to In and Out Burger, a popular fast food joint for dinner. Primo and Nick continued to watch as i ordered another obscene amount of food to eat for the coming munchies. I sat there as cars went past us to pick up the food. My palms were sweaty, i was trying to calm myself the best I could. I was going to enter an altered state of mind I hadn’t been to before.

Primo and Nick watched utterly amused, giggling. I stopped to look up to them and asked them what they were up to.

They giggled and waited for a few minutes before they told me that the pot brownies were a lie.

I ate regular brownies.

And I thought I was high.

No one at In and Out took a second glance as i started to choke Primo out.

Goddamn you, placebo effect.

Hipstamatic

Andrew and Chow Fun

So no real news. But I’m oddly fond of this picture. Took it using Hipstamatic app for my iPhone. The little nuggets of images I turn up just with the iPhone’s pretty fantastic lens (as long as it gets good light) has been quite fun. The variety of apps for the camera alone has been worth it. Oh, and the games. Can’t forget the games.

More to come later this week. I’m trying to aim to write in this a bit more.

The Rose Parade

Perfect Rose Parade
Ever since coming here from Mexico City in 1994, I’ve been to every single Rose Parade.

I drag myself up at 6, 7 in the morning to a (usually) cold morning to see friends and relatives that only come together this day to celebrate a bunch of Volvos with dead flowers pasted upon them (I can’t take credit for that one- heard it on a local radio station). To stand the crowds of hung over (and still drunk) people waiting for the onslaught of sights and sounds that would cause any degree of hangover to worsen. (seriously- with the right hangover, after three marching bands, I would have murdered anyone who would have tried to mess with me).

Friends ask me time and time again why I put myself through it, through the security checkpoints and the traffic to spend hours watching the Rose Parade- to wait in between gaps as floats break down. To put up with my mother as she yells out things to the crowd.

It’s seeing such an event up close, to be able to have a level of interaction to which you would never be able to see on television is what makes it worthwhile.

One of my favorite memories of the parade had an element of this interaction- back in 2003, beloved children’s entertainer Mr. Rogers was one of many of the Grand Marshalls that year. I looked forward to seeing him as anyone else that grew up with his fantastic television show. Upon his approach, his car had come to a halt, waiting for the float before him to start up again. In the time waiting, a small child ran up to his car- or at least attempted to, before she was accosted by his bodyguards. Mr Rogers spoke a few words to the guards, and motioned for her to come closer. The little girl ran up, full of glee, and handed him a rose. He reached down and hugged her. Everyone within eyesight cheered and clapped wildly as the girl hugged him.

You would have never seen that on the telecast of the Parade. It’s moments like these that makes the whole experience worth it.

Ode to a Cat

There’s been a cat that’s been bothering me. While most nagging wildlife is on my roof at two in the morning, this cat isn’t even real.

This cat is on Facebook.

The cat in question is one from a popular application on Facebook- Farmville. I suppose players stumble across the cute little kitten while tending to their pixelated fields, and has become a common occurrence. The cat is a collectible in the game, but I’m not certain. Either way, it’s driving me nuts- the cat appears at least two or three times a day in my newsfeed on Facebook. I’d like to be making that up, but i’m not kidding.

I want attack that cat so badly. I don’t know why I’ve developed such a hatred for an inanimate object, but it’s become a pet peeve of mine. I always develop a weird hatred for odd things, from ways people say words (my friend Primo knows of a certain movie title that if said correctly, makes me shiver and yell at him) to the occasional squirrel on my front lawn. But I’ve never had such hatred for something on Facebook.

I want to kick a fake cat so hard. Or at least use a thresher. That’s on the farm, right?

I hate the Farmville Cat

Thank you, Joystiq Podcast Appreciation Group

I don’t even know how to start this apart from these words:

Thank you, Joystiq Podcast Appreciation Group. Thank you for your generosity.

A little background: my Playstation 3 died around june/july of this year. From what I can tell, the temperature sensor is conked out. The system is completely and utterly dead. It’s a 60 gig console with the backwards compability, so I figured getting it fixed would be an easy thing.

Well sure, I’d be easy. After $150. It was out of warranty. I grumbled a bit, and saved the money needed to fix it. I waited a while to do so, saving small incriments of money from my part time job. In waiting, I was even mentioned as one of those rare cases of a broken PS3 on the Joystiq podcast.

Unfortunately, my car died. I lost all the money I had saved for the PS3 to fix the heating coil (first time I discovered cars HAD heating coils).

Then any money I had at that point disappeared as the car broke down AGAIN-major components, including the oxygen sensor and part of the engine, melted (the temperature sensor failed after I Ieft the mechanics, causing much of the car to overheat.). My car, my precious LaFonda (or Joystiq One, if any Joystiq members were present.), had put me into debt considerably.

A couple of friends offered to help me out with the system repairs, as they had played the console more than once, but they seemingly dropped out over a series of issues. I had resorted to playing games rarely- playing my wii on short bursts and looking at some of the games I bought after the fact (I have a collector’s version of Resident Evil 5 that hasn’t even been played yet.). I gave up on fixing the system and decided to wait until December- where christmas money would be spent to pay off the black monolithic console that was reduced to a very heavy paperweight.

Today, I went to an Uncharted 2 event. Frazzled and annoyed that I got lost twice, I waited in bumber to bumper traffic with an eve shorter fuse. Waiting completely stopped on the 101 freeway, I received this message on my phone- a Facebook message from a fellow JPAG member, Alex Raymond:

Hey Dan,
After you told me the other day that your PS3 was broken and you didn’t have the cash to fix it (and frankly the fee is ridiculous), Randall and I rallied the JPAG and a bunch of us pitched in and raised $175 for you to send in your PS3 and have it fixed. Just send me your email address and I’ll be able to hand it over via Paypal!

I lost it. I checked my phone six, seven times over, trying to see if all this was true. I couldn’t believe it.

I lost it. I cried right then and there on the freeway. Crying as a police officer drove by, giving me a stange look upon seeing my face. I was overjoyed, shocked at the generosity, the compassion the JPAG (and some Joystiq writers!) had given me with this gift. I’m crying right now as I try and type this all out on my Blackberry.

Thank you again, JPAG. You really do make me proud to call you my friends. I don’t know what to do to repay you all.

Christ, I need a tissue.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Posted via email from Daniel’s posterous

Working at a Library

Sometimes, it drives me insane- the crowds, the complaints, the sheer amount of work- but through it all, I love working at a library.

 Take today, for example. A mother and her son walked into the library today, making a beeline for the video section. I took no notice when they first walked in, until i noticed a flowing cape behind the son- he was dressed as Superman.

 They took no time to pick out an individual VHS copy of Thomas the Tank Engine. He bounded towards my counter, sliding the VHS onto the counter as best as he could, standing on his tiptoes as his mother shuffled through her cards to find her library card. She found the card moments later, and I quickly checked out the movie. As per policy, I walked past the security gates to hand the VHS to the patron- but i leaned over to the child’s level, over the counter.

 The joy on his face as he bounded around the corner and to me was one I can describe in a limited scope- he hopped and skipped over to me with cape flowing, he looked like a small, latino version of Superman as he took the VHS from my hands, a big grin crossing his face. He thank me, and scampered down the stairs. The last thing I saw of him was his crew cut hair being hidden away by the cape. The joy and utter pleasure he took at something i grew up with made me smile. It helped that he was dressed as Superman, though.

 It’s moments like these I love working at a library.

Posted via email from Daniel’s posterous

My second computer

Yesterday, I took apart my second computer to get it scrapped.
 
It was built by a small computer shop on Colorado Blvd. in Pasadena. It no longer exists.
 
I remember helping picking out the parts- a 500 mhz Pentium 3 CPU. 20 gigs of storage. Two optical drives in it. The green case, I picked out to “make it look more like an iMac.”. I started playing a bunch of games upon it- Starcraft and Diablo being my favorites.
 
I remember the immense pride I had in installing a second drive, when I was just in middle school.
 
After this computer died, I built my family’s first computer. The first one I named. This computer was never named.
 
See ya, lime green.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Posted via email from Daniel’s posterous