August 10, 1998
Back to Work
I'm never quite sure why it is that when John gives me a compliment it rarely sticks quite as well as when someone else does. I really should believe him better than that, though some part of me thinks that he's always biased. Which is beside the point, especially at work.
Thing is that I finally really, gut-deep, believed things when Bob started telling me that he was impressed with how much had gotten done in the last week. It was really, really interesting to see just how much of everything worked. That was kinda scary. Maybe it was more scary because it kinda means that I am not a pretender anymore, and there's actual evidence of my entry into reality as a programmer. I'm real. Not just getting by under the cover of being what I'm not, or something. It's kinda odd.
I really can write object oriented classes.
Lunch was really good. We followed the plan from the day before and brought lunch and all the stuff really was excellent together. The basil was really good in the pasta dish, too. Yum.
More plowing through stuff, and cleanup and some cleanup of the design as much as of everything else. There's a lot still to mess with.
Got home a bit late, as I stayed after hours to finish up writing up the weekend. Then we wandered off to Kirkland to get my gift certificate for Rick, and the Third Floor Fish Cafe was just packed with people from the PGA. It's in Sahali this week, so the entire Plateau and Eastside is just overrun with people. The traffic sucks and the really good places to eat are packed with golf shirts and quiet people. It's not a bad thing, all in all, as everyone is very courteous, but it's just lots and lots of people.
So John and I wandered over to Kidd Valley burgers and he got a burger and onion rings and I got a fish burger and fried mushrooms and we sat and ate and dipped our crisp, really hot sides into ranch dressing and then watched the same spectacular sunset the folks at the Cafe were watching. It was utterly gorgeous, the extra clouds in the sky turning all the colors of silver, then gold, then deep, hot flame in a sky that turned cooler and cooler blue, over the silver water of Lake Washington with a jagged and ragged black ridge of mountains in between. It was marvelous to share that, eat good food and pay about a tenth for just as spectacular a view.
Got home latish, went on a walk with Fezzik. There was an entire Weekend magazine thing devoted to canine ownership in the Great NorthWet, and it noted that dog owners are likely to be more healthy simply because they have to exercise themselves when they exercise their dogs. That was interesting to find out. So we walked, and it was good, and Fezzik was happy. Just as we were heading out the door, the coolness got to me, so John ran back to get my Tibetan coat, and it was perfect.
I was a little surprised, as my brain had equated it with Thick, Hot and Heavy, but it actually is a medium weight coat, good against the mid-50's night chill. Very nice. I'm glad we got it, and I was very glad that John was with me when I bought it. I like what he likes in clothing on me, as nearly all of it is nearly as unique as our Land Rovers and usually as utilitarian.
There was a J. Peterman's bag in my mailbox and in it was the black and blue caftan that I'd ordered the week before. It was lovely, light and matched my hair perfectly. The dye job on the fabric is intricate latticework and it's not in the on-line catalog, so I won't point you there. It is gorgeous and comfortable and really, really good to lounge about in on the weekends, I'll bet.
But when I'd ordered it they'd warned me that the dye would rub off on the skin, so they recommended that one hand wash it in cold water and let it dry before wearing it for the first time. It shed blue all over my already blue laundry sink. That was pretty funny. And it hung up to dry really well. So, hoorah!
Odd sleep filled with work and fresh mozzarella dreams.