Blog of Magic Cheese

I've kept a paper journal more or less regularly since 1999, and the funny thing is, I don't seem to remember the filled ones that I have put away neatly on a bookshelf or in a closet unless I am moving.

So now we're moving, after 2 1/2 great years in the Richmond District. No crisis, but they're selling our building, and at upwards of a million dollars, it's not something we can afford, so it's 5 miles down to Daly City we go, because no one we contacted in San Francisco throughout the months of October and November would even return our calls when we asked if they would rent a 2 bedroom apartment to 3 people. Or a studio to a married couple. Or a one bedroom to a married couple. What IS it with San Francisco property owners' obsession with occupying every available unit, however large, with only a single non-smoking, non drug using, non drinking, quiet, clean, female, petless, mateless student of nunhood? I fucking hate them all. I hope an exodus of drunken Castro revelers line up to piss on their buildings every Halloween.

Anyway, I cracked open the journal I started at the beginning of 1999, nearly 10 years ago now. 10 years! How much we change in 10 years. I was 17 years old, still a fairly new University student, awkward and shy. What did 17 year-old Aya have to say 10 years ago?

"In a little over 11 hours, I shall be going to wushu practice. I am so happy."

...

... well, I guess not that much changes after all.

I've never done the categories thing in my blog before, as everything would end up under "Random" but today, in honor of an online petition I received at work, I made my first, which is "Things that make Aya lose the will to live."

Somebody, and this is not even the first time I have been on the receiving end of this suggestion, thinks the most awesome thing we could add to Puzzle Pirates is pregnancy and babies. Your children, this enthusiastic player writes, would be slave labor for chores, which is charmingly traditional, and operated by AI to follow you everywhere.

I love my job and the community of the game, but it's well-intended petitions like these, and the person I still remember who went into a public area in the game and emoted *runs into the inn has her baby in the corner and runs out again* that make me ponder first about the nature of adolescents and teenagers exploring various adult roles and relationships in online games, and then about how much Drano I need to ingest to end it all.

So here we are, brand-spanking new category, and already something else has cropped up: job searches.

Sweet holy Moses as if not having full time work were not stressful enough while living in the Bay Area during a recession with rental prices spiking, companies are posting slag like this on craigslist:

The Company Jigsaw (www.jigsaw.com) is quite simply unlike any other organization. We firmly established ourselves as one of the unique success stories of the Web 2.0 revolution. For the past 4 years Jigsaw has been leveraging user generated content to map the global business community. By doing so, we have created an online, collaborative business-contact marketplace where marketers, recruiters, and sales people can buy and trade third-party business contact information. Even the most world-weary VC’s applaud the paradigm shifting vision at the heart of the Jigsaw story:

“It’s always a mind blower when some startup fundamentally changes the rules in any category that is assumed to be mature.” Jeff Nolan, SAP Ventures

When I'm reading something online, somewhere in the ballpark of 3 buzzwords per sentence my right eye starts twitching uncontrollably, and this job ad produced what I think is foam from between my teeth. Who on earth thinks that something like this is a good idea to post? I don't know anything about this company and already it's my life's goal to destroy them from the inside and then jump up and down on the (literal) ashes until they go cold.

Moving day!

Somebody hammered our doorknob!

The maintenance at the new place were really nice and came right over to replace the doorknob, but still: hella ghetto.

Last week when we took over a carload of things, somebody was parked in our space in the garage. We had the car towed, then somebody ran out of the unit below swearing as it was being hauled off. (When I thought about it, I should have gone through the building asking if anybody was parked there, but it didn't occur to me until after.) Hammer wielder may have been that guy, who appears to either live in our building or visit somebody there frequently. Can't wait to run into him in the hall!

I wonder what other surprises our new neighborhood has in store? I miss living in the Richmond next to people who aren't so ghetto that I worry they'll passive aggressively key my car already.