| On a Plane |
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| 02:33pm 05/09/2008 |
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Last update: 7 weeks ago. lol I suck
Okay, airplanes. This is especially targeted to first-time flyers (like I was) since planes are, when you think about it, completely impossible things.
So the call went out to board, and I wheeled my way to the "line". It was more like a mass of people going through a funnel. The narrow part of the funnel was where they were yet again checking passports and boarding passes. While waiting in this herd of people I kept hearing other airlines boarding on the P.A. "Delta flight 182 to Atlanta, now boarding zones 1 and 2." Why BA couldn't board in zones is a mystery.
Anyway, once through the funnel, you go down the weird extendo-tunnel like in the movies. At the end of this your boarding pass is checked once again and they direct you to your seat.
Seating was weird. I've seen movies where all the seats are in rows, and they all face forward. Even the commercials look this way. Business class on B.A. had these pod kind of things, with a seat that could recline flat, and a footrest, and a swivel-out very crappy LCD screen. For my seat, the window was on my right, and another person in her pod was on my left, separated by a small fan screen thingy. We were all provided with pillows and blankets, and headphones in plastic bags, and an odd little gift pack with a mini toothbrush and stuff.
So I settled in, then checked out the view. I'd specifically requested the seat because it had a properly-aligned window, and I wanted to see what the world looked like at 36,000 feet. Imagine my dismay when I found that most of the view was blocked by the wing. If I leaned forward and looked back I could see the ground, but it was hardly comfortable to do so for long.
After everyone boarded, the captain came on the PA and gave a quick rundown on where we were going, the weather and the length of time it would take. We were shown a goofy animated video about safety that nobody seemed to pay attention to. The plane started to roll along. I watched out the window and tried to figure out what the little yellow/black markers meant. We taxied for a quite a while before stopping. I guessed we'd reached the takeoff runway bit.
Looking back, I've decided that the whole point of the 15-minute taxi ride was to lull you into a false sense of security. "Oh, this isn't so bad" you think. "It's like riding in a giant car." This feeling quickly goes away at takeoff. Suddenly the engines, which had been just kinda doing this high-pitched whining before, roar, and you're thrown back into your seat, and the world is racing by and everything tilts and WTF you're in the air??
Yeah.
Actual flight recount next time. Whenever that is. heh |
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| Leaving the Continent, pt 2 |
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| 06:24pm 12/07/2008 |
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I posted that entry from the British Airways Executive Lounge. I'm still there, actually. Now I get to regale you with how I got here. Get ready.
We pulled up to the entrance of my terminal (terrible, terrible word to a first-time flyer) three hours early and I head inside. Immediately I see a huge counter, most of which was BA. There's a really long line of people queued up in front of a couple of the baggage check-in desks. I pass them, peering at all the readouts and things above the counters, and then I see my business class check-in line. Just one person there, already at the counter. Rock on. I wait there a couple minutes, check in my bag without incident, get my boarding pass stamped with something, then move on. Which was left, across the counter where the huge line was, and into another huge line of people waiting to get their bags screened.
In this area there were two lines, formed by ropes-and-posts. One was full and the other pretty empty, so I hop in the empty one. There is only one poor guy dealing with both lines for some reason, going back and forth between them, checking passports and boarding passes again. The guy ahead of me, a shortish middle-eastern guy, gets pulled aside for some reason. (I later see him going up the escalator, unmolested). After my stuff is verified, he lets me through and I join the next queue, this one to send my stuff through the x-ray machines. When I get to the front, though, I find out that line is actually closed and have to loop back around to the back of the other line. Feh
I need three boxes when I get to the front - One for pocket items and shoes, and one for each laptop. The guy ahead of me (shortish white guy this time) has a bag pulled aside and has to wait. I get through without incident. I must be bad luck or something. So up the biiig escalator I go.
I feel a little disoriented once I get to the top. I'd been crowded in the previous lines for 15-20 minutes, and suddenly I'm in an expansive area that's almost completely deserted. It feels like a really crappy mall with an obsession with airplanes. There's also all these great recorded messages: "Do not leave your luggage unattended. Any luggage left unattended will be treated as a threat and you may be arrested." I don't bother stopping at any of the shops or restaurants or anything... I'm deathly afraid of getting lost in this place, so I head straight to my gate, then find the lounge.
The lounge is awesome. It's pretty quiet in here, except for the obligatory whiny baby. Wood paneling, lots of overstuffed chairs, warm lighting. There's a snack bar on the wall opposite where you walk in with water, juice, a soda fountain and booze. Also snacks and sandwiches and things. The wall to the right of where you walk in is a window that lets you see the plane. PROTIP: Boeing 777 planes are really big.
Anyway, it's about 45 minutes until they start boarding, so I'm going to shut this thing down now. More updates once I hit the ground overseas. |
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Read 2 - Post |
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| Leaving the Continent |
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| 06:05pm 12/07/2008 |
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It's weird how these things work out.
I'm wrapped up my latest project at Shell a couple weeks ago, and suddenly it occurred to me that I didn't have anything waiting in the wings. This is always a perilous time for contractors - unlike employees, we're easy to acquire and fire, so being without a project is akin to a death sentence. Then the program manager stopped by and said "Hey Mike... how would you feel about flying to the UK for a couple weeks?"
The what you say?
Apparently a huge (huge) project over in the UK had fallen way (way) behind and needed more bodies to catch up. Since I was rolling off my project, I was volunteered. Mr. Program Manager said that they would fly me over to the UK for a couple weeks to get acquainted with the team and get up-to-speed on the project, then fly back and work remotely. Shell would pay for the flight, hotel, meals and transport. "Overseas flights mean flying business class, of course" he said.
"Ablahblahblah?" I replied. Which was me agreeing.
On the bus ride home, the trepidation set in. Because, well:
- I've never flown before, anywhere.
- I understand that all kinds of weird rules and stuff have gone into effect lately.
- Not only am I flying for the first time, but I'm flying international.
- I've never been to a foreign country before. Which is kinda weird, because Mexico is
- right there</i>. Fortunately it's an English-speaking country (sort of) but it's still very different.
So. To go somewhere outside the country you need a passport. I don't have one of those. I look up info on the State Dept. website. To get a passport, I need a birth certificate. I don't have one of those. Hmm. This is starting to turn into one of those bad RPGs.
The Georgia website tells me it takes 1-2 weeks to process birth certificate requests. Fine. I fill out forms, make copies of things, and send them a money order. A few days later I call back. "Oh, it takes 3-4 weeks to do," she tells me. lolwut? But there's an expediting service I can use, apparently, so I do that and get the certificate in a week.
Now we book the flight and hotel. Wonderful news - I get to change planes in London! Let's just keep piling up complications for the first-time traveler, shall we? Better news is that we book a nice hotel at the airport, and everything is pre-paid so that all I have to do is check in. The agent on the phone lets me pick my seat, so I get window seats all the way. w00t.
(Side-note: There's a fantastic website called Seat Guru (www.seatguru.com) that shows you layouts of the planes and comments on the seats. That way you find out that seat 6B is an aisle seat that gets bumped by carts, or 12F is right next to the bathrooms. Awesome stuff)
So now that I have proof of departure, my birth certificate, driver's license, passport photos, etc etc etc it's off to the post office. There they verify all my stuff (completely painless) and seal it in an envelope. They do this because Shell uses an expediting service to get passports faster, and the service requires that all your official request stuff gets sealed in an envelope to be forwarded on. That packet plus some other stuff gets sent Fedex to D.C. A few days later my passport is ready, and I'm ready to go. Documentation-wise, anyway. |
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| Mark Levin Watch |
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| 04:13pm 26/02/2008 |
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mood:  amused
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I've been working a lot of late nights recently, and on my way home one night I stumbled upon this comedic goldmine on AM radio. (I love late-night AM radio. It's like 4chan in your car) Mr. Levin is a certified right-wing whackjob, and it's an absolute joy to listen to him get all worked up about the Liberal Conspiracy.
Some highlights from the few times I've gotten to listen in:
- The Liberals want to control you by doing three things:
- Increase illiteracy! (only dumb people vote Democrat?)
- Appoint liberal activist judges! (Wait, didn't Bush just appoint a bunch of judges...?)
- Increase the bureaucratic machine! (8 years of a Republican White House and it hasn't changed. Hmm)
- Anyone who votes for Obama is a "dumbass"
- There was a point in time when Obama's wife wasn't proud of America. (THIS IS SRS BSNS)
- Hilary Clinton is a Marxist.
He's also incredibly rude to his callers... which makes me wonder why anyone bothers. Example exchange:
Caller: I was thinking about voting for Ron Paul (lol) but I know you don't like him and I value your opinion. Why don't you like him?
Levin: Let me ask you a question. When Ron Paul walks into a room, does he have a halo on his head?
Caller: ....what?
Levin: I'm being serious now, I really want to answer your question. When Ron Paul walks into a room, does he have a halo on his head?
Caller: ..No.
Levin: When Ron Paul walks into a room, do people fall down to their knees?
Caller: *confused* No.
Levin: Okay. Is Ron Paul married?
Caller: I... I don't know. *trying to get back on track* I just think a lot of his policies make sense, and when I listen to him I...
Levin: *interrupting* Do you know the name of Ron Paul's wife?
Caller: I'm... no. Sorry.
Levin: You should be ashamed. *pause* You should be ashamed. You're planning to vote for someone and you don't even know the name of his wife? For shame. *click*
--
WTF? Anyway, if I were an influential, card-carrying member of the Republican Party, I'd seriously consider taking this guy aside and, very carefully, asking him to maybe go take a few years of vacation. (I'd probably be armed when I did this too) Because the guy isn't doing his party any favors by spewing mindless venom over the air for two hours a night. What a piece of work.
So a special shout-out to Mark Levin, world leader on the Unintentional Comedy Scale. Mark, I salute you. |
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Read 2 - Post |
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| Shadow of the Colossus |
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| 09:21am 31/01/2008 |
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mood:  weird
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Just after I posted that entry, I heard something fall next to me on the desk. I look over and see this crawling across my desk.
A fantastic battle ensued! *cue fight music*
I searched for a weapon. The thing advanced. Nothing here but, ahah, old napkins from Chipotle! Fear my burrito-based wrath! But my blow only served to knock the creature over. It slid behind my laptop, crashed into the wall, then fell under the desk.
So then I waited. Patiently, like hunters of yore, crouched behind the bushes (desk chair), I awaited my nemesis. Minutes go by, but I don't move a muscle. It's down there, I know it's down there, it has nowhere else to go. So I bide my time, waiting. And there it is! crawling from behind a tree root (laptop charger box thing), making its way cautiously towards freedom. But still I do not strike - I must wait for the opportune moment, for my quarry is quick and powerful (skittery). Then it takes a chance, and darts for cover, and down comes my spear (Chipotle napkins), but again only a glancing blow off its hideously armored carapace! In panic, the monster flies the other direction, but I am quicker, I am more intelligent, I am in tune with my environment, I am the product of thousands of years of evolution and a university education - and the final blow falls. My foe is vanquished, I am victorious, and I take my prize back to the tribe (toilet). Somewhere, a stone statue falls apart. |
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| Moving on, moving up |
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| 08:55am 31/01/2008 |
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mood:  discontent
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My tenure with Shell is coming to a close, I think. I've been here well over a year now, and I'm not really happy with the situation. The first year or so was great, since I was actively working on a project. Now, though, I'm supporting that project, and support isn't what I want to do. Also, by support, I mean basically that I'm doing Excel dumps of data from the database. After ten thousand "SELECT BLAH FROM BLAH"s in slightly different combinations, I'm feeling a little frayed. The Shell business guys have been great; they're very thankful for what I do, and they know the long hours I sometimes have to put in to do it. I even got $150 in Shell gift cards the other day, just out of the blue. Recognition is great, but it doesn't make up for what a drag this job has become.
And yeah, I've spoken with project managers, program managers, anyone who would listen that I want something different. They were supposed to bring someone in to take over for me months ago. Why this hasn't happened is beyond me, but I know discussions have been had between all kinds of people.
It doesn't help that most of the old crew is gone. There were a bunch of guys on the 21st floor that all hung out together. We'd even sneak off for the occasional drink or go bowling. There was even paintball one Saturday. A lot of that went down the tubes when the group was split and half of us (including me) were moved to the 4th floor. Then several guys left, and, yeah. It's not a fun environment anymore.
There's also the $$ factor. For the first year, I was way underpaid, though I didn't know it until I talked to some of the guys and confirmed what they said with a little research. Getting my consulting company to raise my cut of the rate was like pulling teeth, which I didn't appreciate much. I understand not wanting to lose such a juicy margin, but my percentage (less than 50%!) was flatly unfair by all accounts. All they do is payroll, but they were taking half my billed rate. I'm not a greedy person by any means. I just want what's fair.
So, last night, I reposted my resume to DiCE. I've already gotten a phone call to my cell (!) and two emails (One said: "We have an urgent opening for .Net developer . Please look at the requirement and reply me back with the following information." The hell you say? You're giving me orders and asking for info I've already provided?) so it looks like I'll have some things to choose from. I put my home phone number in as the contact number, so I'm also expecting some voice messages on the machine when I get home. I'm really hoping to find something permanent this time, and since I'm not in a rush I can be picky about what I do.
The old house still isn't ready to sell. Two mortgages and two sets of bills is starting to strain the finances. |
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Read 3 - Post |
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| Air |
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| 04:07pm 03/12/2007 |
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mood:  predatory music: babble
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I have a journal. Who knew?
So, there's been a major upgrade in my life. We've finally moved. Comparison:
Old House vs. New House
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Old House: 1500 sq ft.
New House: 2800 sq ft.
Old House: tiny patio
New House: real backyard
Old House: leaks
New House: no leaks
Old House: torn-up linoleum
New House: tile
Old House: 10 minutes to warm water
New House: 10 seconds to hot water
I could go on and on. Long story short, it's a real house, like where real people live. And it's in one of those neighborhoods that I thought didn't exist - the kind where people wave, and kids play in the street (and don't get run over), and that kind of thing. That may be the biggest adjustment for me is getting used to friendly people.
The kids are ecstatic. Whenever we're in the old neighborhood, Chloe asks, "Mommy, we're not going to the old house, right?" Even our three-year-old knows what a pile of garbage it is. They love having their own rooms, they love getting to play outside, they love having a huge game room dedicated to their toys, they love having SPACE.
Leah's already started decorating. It's Christmas so two (?) trees are up. We have three spiral trees in our front yard, for some reason. Little knick-knacks have appeared. Washcloths and "runners" and other things. It's odd, but I don't say anything really, because we finally have a place worth decorating.
We still have the old house. We've not gotten everything moved out yet, and there are lots of repairs to be done before we can lease or sell it. The convenience of not having to move everything all at once immediately is great; the double bills, not so much.
The old owners left a trampoline in the back yard. Like, a big one, five feet off the ground with a net around it and such. Leah and I are still fighting over the trampoline. One of us wants to keep it and one wants it to go. |
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Read 4 - Post |
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| Downtown Nights |
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| 08:01am 11/06/2007 |
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mood:  peaceful music: Green Day - All I Want
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Contractors tend to work a lot of overtime. I'm sure it has more to do with us being given all the real work while the Salaries sit around all day and not because we get paid for it. Regardless, this has led to a great many late nights for me in downtown Houston.
In the winter, dark comes early and the streets quickly empty. Traffic tends to be sporadic. Thick fog, such that you can't see but one or two blocks reflects back the streetlights in a kind of orangish haze. The lights of the skyscrapers seem to hang in midair like ghostly pirate ships. The rare pedestrian is more likely homeless than not, and often preoccupied by arguing with internal demons and yelling at reflections in glass doors.
The ride home is quiet and serene.
The summers are vastly different. Now people in pairs or small groups wander streets shaded gold by the setting sun. Skateboarders, out for summer break, clatter down stairways and roll down sidewalks in packs. Booming music and the occasional amplified voice from some festival our outdoor concert or other can be heard echoing through the streets. The towering office buildings appear dark purplish-black against the vivid reds, oranges and greens of the sunset.
I always feel sorry for the people scurrying about their errands, too busy to appreciate the beauty that's around them. I'm glad that I still do. |
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Read 1 - Post |
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| Lulz |
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| 07:17pm 22/05/2007 |
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mood:  busy music: The Black Mages - Those Who Fight Further
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It's been forever since I updated this thing. (That last entry doesn't count. I didn't do it) It's one of those deals where something happens, so you don't post for a while, then you get in the habit of not posting for a while, then you have too much to post. Or maybe that's just me.
Anyway. Back in October, on a lovely Friday afternoon, I get called into the IT Director's office. I hum the Star Wars Imperial march as I walk down there.
"I know you were asking for a raise," she says as I enter.
"Yes" I reply, sitting down.
"I'm afraid we're going to have to let you go."
"Ah."
I ask for an explanation, and get a bunch of lies, twists of things I'd said, and half-truths. They were obviously made up for the HR person in the room, so I gave my reply to the HR person. Then I was told I had to be escorted from the building because, obviously, I'm a psychopath.
So, Friday evening I come home with no job. The company gives me two weeks (another paycheck) before cutting me off. So Friday evening and Saturday morning I retool my resume that had been collecting dust on Monster for forever and post it on DiCE instead. Sunday is spent in a quiet state of panic.
Monday morning I get a call. Then another. Then another. Then another. Wow, results. They are all recruiters for IT staffing firms. I have no idea about contracting, but I can't be choosy at this point. The first one I talk to says they have a job lined up for me at Shell downtown and if I'd be willing to do a phone interview. I say sure, do the interview, no problems. I find out that afternoon that I'm hired and the paperwork starts flowing in.
tl;dr recap: Fired Friday afternoon, hired Monday afternoon.
They can't get me in until the following Monday because they have to get stuff set up at the office. That's fine, I need some time off anyway. I enjoy the week off on the old company's dime and report in to Shell Monday morning to start my new contracting career.
So this threw life into a loop, but things have settled down again. Except, of course, that the project I'm on is almost complete... |
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Read 3 - Post |
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| HG Is My Hero! |
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| 12:09pm 29/03/2007 |
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I love HG. May she live long and prosper. Also, she has MY vote for World Leader! Hurrah for her!
A haiku in her honor:
![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) hackergroupie love
The Moon and Stars and the Sun
Lovely and perfect! |
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Read 2 - Post |
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| Yar |
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| 01:43pm 17/08/2006 |
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Did you know World War III has already started? It's true. And I'm not talking about the crap in Iraq and the "War on Terror". No, this battle is being fought in living rooms across America. The enemy? Our so-called allies, the Brits, Australians and Canadians. The weapon? Children's TV.
When I grew up, Saturday mornings were dominated by American-grown shows that pulled no punches. Nobody really expected lessons in morality or anything even remotely useful to occur during these shows - that crap was saved for the last 30 seconds just before the credits. No, these shows concentrated on one thing - kicking ass. GI Joe, Thundercats, Ninja Turtles, even the satanic Smurfs were cool.
No more. The awesomeness of He-Man is long gone. Our kid's TV is now imported, and it's crap. But there's something sinister about it all - something sinister that I'll reveal here. First, though, an overview of the vehicle of war is in order. I've chosen the list from just one channel, which should be an indicator of just how big this problem is.
Note: All images stolen from Wikipedia. I knew that damn thing was good for something.
( Not for the faint at heart )
So what does it all mean? Actually, reading all this, I think it means that my kids need to hurry up and become teenagers so that I don't have to see this crap anymore. |
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Read 7 - Post |
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| State of the Spawn |
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| 09:31am 14/07/2006 |
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As requested, here's what my contribution to the future of society currently look like:
Chloe:
Bradley:
As always, tons of stuff available at www.crossfamily.name. |
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Read 2 - Post |
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| Theorem #27 |
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| 11:41am 10/07/2006 |
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If the English word for "me" were something harder to rhyme like, say, "orange", there would be far fewer whiny songs. |
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Read 3 - Post |
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| Corporate life |
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| 09:37am 28/03/2006 |
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mood:  sleepy music: hahaha
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8:00 AM - 9:00 AM: Onshore-Offshore sync up
10:00 AM - 12:00 AM: Assessment of current Quality Assurance testing efforts for Infolink II
1:30 PM - 3:00 PM: IT Team Meeting
Boss: What do you mean it's not done yet? |
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Read 2 - Post |
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| Plastic Invasion |
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| 09:34am 07/03/2006 |
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mood:  listless music: yapyapyap
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Leah put together an awesome little diagram of what our living room looks like recently. Of course, this is what it looks like when it's cleaned up. Normally, it's in a state of Just-After-Tornado. |
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| Bradley's World |
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| 09:42pm 26/02/2006 |
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mood:  full music: clickyclicky
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"Hey, this thing feels squishy!"
"Hey, something's poking my eye!" |
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Read 1 - Post |
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| The Next John Williams |
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| 06:00pm 26/02/2006 |
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mood:  awake music: ...tickatickaticka-DUNDUN...
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Last night, Chloe began singing a little song, and it immediately translated itself in my mind into a Rambo soundtrack. As most things do.
Mu-tickatickatickatickatickaticka...
Colonel Trautman: Rambo, you're the only one dumb enough to do this.
Rambo: Ugh.
...tickatickaticka-DUNDUN...
Trautman: I need you to sneak into the enemy fortress.
Rambo: Munumg a hunga.
...tickatickatickatickaticka...
Trautman: Once inside, capture Cobra Commander.
Rambo: Werna snig.
...tickatickaticka DuahDUNDAHDUN...
Trautman: Then, steal a helicopter, make sure it gets shot all to hell, and barely escape.
Rambo: IDS NAH MAH WAR! I DEN STAR IT! WHO THIS ABOU ME? HUH? NOWON!
...tickatickaticka DAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay...
Trautman: Godspeed, Rambo. Godspeed.
I think I need help. |
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| The Downward Spiral |
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| 11:18am 20/02/2006 |
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mood:  cold music: babble
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This is my interpretation of a recent set of events.
| Step |
Quote |
Happiness |
| 1 |
"Chloe! Smile for the camera!" |
Happy |
| 2 |
"Chloe! Look here baby!" |
Happy |
| 3 |
"Chloe?" |
A Bit Happy |
| 4 |
"Chloe!" |
Meh |
| 5 |
"Chloe! Look at mommy!" |
Slight Irritation |
| 6 |
"CHLOE! Look over here!" |
Definite Irritation |
| 7 |
"Dammit, Mike, could you... Chloe! Don't poke him!" |
Supreme Irritation |
| 8 |
"Chloe Elizabeth, look over here so I can take your picture." |
Middle Name Invoked! |
| 9 |
"Chloe, dammit..." whine |
Exasperation |
| 10 |
"Oh, forget it." Flash |
Surrender |
Years from now, when looking at pictures of our kids, people are going to thing we beat them since they always seem so unhappy in pictures. You, gentle reader, will know the truth - it's a combination of bad picture-taking and, of course, daddy's weird experiments.
P.S. Two in one day! HAH! |
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Read 1 - Post |
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| Bookselling Adventures, Part V |
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| 11:03am 20/02/2006 |
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mood: My fingers are cold music: muttermuttermutter
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Ha ha. I haven't forgotten about this little series.
It was a slow morning. I was trying not to doze at the register. There was some giggling coming from the sex section. Condition normal.
A well-dressed man walks up carrying a paperback. I scan it and announce the total. He hands me a traveler's check.
So, now my brain scrambles to remember the set of steps you need to use for these things. Sugar Land, TX is not exactly one of the top tourist spots in the world, so we don't get many people with traveler's checks through the store. It takes a bit to remember all the crazy loops and twists it takes to get our lovely register software to take the silly things. As I'm trying to figure out Step 1a, I'm staring at the check, and... something's off. Something is wrong with this thing, but I can't put my finger on it.
"Sir, this traveler's check is in Canadian dollars," I say finally, once it registers.
Meanwhile, the guy had been waiting patiently while I stared at his little slip of paper. His smile slid a bit, but he turned the paperback over. "Yes, but you can give me change. See?" He points to the back of the paperback, which lists the price. $4.99 US, $6.99 Canadian. By now a couple people had queued up behind him and were watching what was going on with curiosity.
My extremely clever response was to blink at him and say, "I beg your pardon?"
"Just give me change for the Canadian price." He points again to the Canadian price which is, indeed on the back of the book.
"Sir," I say, now that I've landed back in reality, "I'm afraid Texas isn't part of Canada, so I only have U.S. currency. If you have a traveler's check in American dollars, then I'll be glad to sell you the book."
He was a little huffy as he left. |
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| Freeeeeeeeedom! |
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| 10:58pm 14/02/2006 |
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mood:  exhausted music: whirrrrrrrrr
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Oh, thank god that's over.
My KoL clan, Iocaine Powder, ran a PvP contest. The idea was that the clan would take over the full PvP leaderboard and hold it the entire day. Anyone else could attempt to knock an IP member off the board. Depending on how high they climbed out of the 30 slots, they'd get better and better prizes. Since IP is generally considered to be the kings of PvP, this got a lot of people excited, not just for the prizes but also to take us down a notch.
Note: I use "us" extremely loosely. I couldn't PvP my way out of a wet paper bag.
So, after the announcement, powerleveling ensued. One look at my profile will show that I'm not really a dedicated player... My turns/day ratio is pretty abysmal. With school and work and 2 kids, it's even harder to keep up. However, I was determined to stand with my clanmates, fumble about, and hope to get lucky. Ha. So, we all powerleveled. I hit level 19. Our highest hit level 26 or 27. Most of the contenders were in the 21-24 range, which meant that I did a whole lot of nothing.
My real contribution came in the form of a PvP bot that I call the PvP Crawler. It basically logs into the game, makes a scan of the current leaderboards and saves them to a database, scans the current top 100 PvPer list (the leaderboards update once an hour, and the top 100 list is realtime), saves that to the database, and then compares the current top 100 list to the previous one taken a minute before to determine who had moved up the ranks and who has dropped down. If there was some movement, it would send an email to a list of clanmates to let them know what was going on, and then save it to the database as well. I wrote this thing in VB.NET, and was barely able to get it done before the event started... I had to skip class that night to finish it off.
Obviously, all this stuff saved to the database is useless if nobody could get at it. So I created a website for my clanmates to log in and view the leaderboards, Top 100 lists and Rank Change reports. I also created a couple forms so that we could keep track of potential targets and their stats, and also ourselves and our stats. Then I wrote a report that allows you to compare yourself to anyone in the database, and a graph that shows rank over time. All this plus a full history tracking system and a security system and, well. It was a lot of work. I've been averaging 2-3 hours of sleep a night the past few weeks. I'm just exhausted.
The contest itself didn't go that well. Well, no, that's not fair... the contest went perfectly well, but our performance wasn't that great. We didn't hold the board nearly as well as I'd hoped we would, so we'll be giving out some very nice prizes tomorrow. But, there's been a ton of positive feedback, and the clan is getting tons of great publicity, so it was all worth it.
And now, I'm going to bed. |
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