How Unfortunate, If You Would Like To Leave A Message, School Begins
Jan 24th
Here’s a slip for you. It’s pink.
Rather difficult past week in the balance of my life. First thing first, while on my way to a corporate meeting, my car’s timing belt decides to snap. Now, normally this would be pictured as an awful awfully timed event, but the location where my car broke down could be considered hell. Thanks to the awesome power of Google Maps, I can show you exactly where my car broke down. Normally, this would seem like an ideal spot to break down. Plenty of shoulder room on the right, and off ramp as well, etc etc. However, Google doesn’t update their street views on a week-to-week basis, as the entire highway at this point is under f*cking construction! That’s right, there are zero shoulders and it’s absolute chaos in this portion of I-80E.
Well, there's your problem! Enjoy the repair bill.
After spending money on getting my car towed from where it broke down back to my place, I then got to joyously call repair shop after repair shop. Unfortunately, at this point I had no clue as to what was actually wrong with the car other than it wouldn’t start. Logic indicated it was either the spark plugs (unlikely) or the fuel pump (very likely). After spending another $95 on the diagnosing – oh yeah, I had to have a friend tow it to the repair shop – and the dolly for that was $45 for the day – it ends up just being the timing belt. “Great!” I thought. Just slap another belt in and I am good to go. Turns out it’s not that easy to replace a timing belt in my particular car – you have to raise the entire engine block about 6-8 inches or so… and the entire repair costs $699. Plus tax.
A crapton of money later, and I have my car back. Good thing too since it started raining and walking to work was no longer looked at as an “exercise opportunity.”
"Best part about this is I got a promotion. No really, we're laying you off."
I could say that was the worst of it, but that would be a lie and lying is bad. Take notes Mr. Senator. The next week while in the office, the head honcho big boss owner walks in and stirs up a conversation with me. Normally, he would come in just to see how things were going and we needed him to approve some stuff anyway. Basically, he was expected to show up today, so it wasn’t out of place in my mind.
After some basic back and forth chit-chat, he drops the Nagasaki on me. Our location is being renamed by the silent partner that decided to pay for the loan on the building, and they are turning it over to their management company. Oh yeah, and in the process I will effectively be terminated. That’s right ladies and gentlemen, I am being laid off. Ugh. However, there is a small possibility that this will end up better for me, but I will not know that until next week so I’d rather not share it and get my hopes up.
What a week.
…to send a numeric page…
In my work, I end up making a lot of phone calls to a lot of people, and one thing I hate the most are their phone companies. No, it is not your iPhone exclusiveness, your ridiculous dataplans, or even your awful security deposits, it is your stupid voicemail automation. I have spent more time listening to the longest and probably most ridiculous “to leave a message” recordings than I have actually spent talking with an actual person.
Fire is a common theme today.
No, I do not want to leave a call back number, if I needed to do that I would have sent a text message – this isn’t the 1990’s where we use pagers. I also hear caller ID is pretty popular. No I do not want to send a fax, if I wanted to send a fax, I’m pretty sure you would have heard an ERRRRDURRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEE at this point and the system would have been, “Holy shit, this guy is trying to send a fax to a cell phone! What a f*cking IDIOT.” It baffles me even more that the fax option is near the end of the recording. All this after being told that if you want to leave a voicemail, please stay on the line. What ever happened to the simple, “So and so isn’t here right now, please leave a message after the beep.” BEEP.
I suppose companies are just trying to show that, “Hey, we have all these really awful awesome features available to you but you will never use”. I suppose I am fine with that, but there is someone else to blame for another tragedy occurring over the phone lines, and this time it’s both the customer and companies fault. Ever dial a number for someone only to get an awful blaring mono version of some terrible Barbara Streisand song? Or even Linkin Park’s CRAWWLLLLINGGG IN MY SKINNNNNN. The first time I heard this, I immediately threw the phone away from me thinking I had accidentally dialed an FM radio station. Turns out you can change the “ring ring” that you would normally hear when waiting for someone to pick up to just about anything you like. Great, now not only do I get to listen to the insanely long voicemail automation, but first you have to subject me to audio murder. No we don’t want to hear your terrible selection of music, and no I do not want to send a fax to a cell phone.
F*ck.
Have fun with that final, yep.
On a slightly less emotionally crippling, “GSO” moment, my classes have officially started. Currently, I’m taking online courses as the school I am attending is actually in Arizona (No not Phoenix University). Well that was great and all until I discovered that one of my math classes requires you to take the final in person. I still haven’t recieved a response from the instructor to see if there was a special condition we could work out – but my hopes for that are not very high. Looks like I may have to fly to Arizona in a few months for my final.
Until next time, go f*ck yourself San Diego.
Google’s Continues Their Dominance, Reagan Ruins Dexter For Me, I Need Furniture
Jan 11th
Google kicks Apple in the nuts (This is good)
Oh god, I need one!
Google’s glorious Nexus One was released last week, and I am pissed. Why? Because I am with Sprint. I suppose this will just come as a big “Oh well” for me, but I am still shaken up about it. Luckily for me, however, all you are really getting with the Nexus One is the Google name and their phone’s design. Hardware aside, many many many other phones run Android (Google’s open source phone OS).
Google year after year has shown absolute dominance with everything they touch. From email to phones, it’s not long before they start pumping out their own desktop OS. I for one, welcome our new electronic overlords. If you don’t, then you probably have an iPhone along with an iPod or iTouch while you sip your double mocha frappachino in the morning at Starbucks while browsing iTunes on your iMac. Yeah that’s right, f*ck you Apple. I’ve never been a fan of you and your overpriced electronics.
Unlike some cold-hearted bastard companies, Google is warm ‘n fuzzy. So warm and fuzzy that if they offered me a $12/hr job as the guy who cleans windows on the Google Campus, I would probably take it despite not wanting to clean windows in the slightest.
Spoiler alert
Dear Reagen Marks,
Hi. F*ck you.
You don’t know me, but as I got in the car on the morning of, Monday January 4th, 2010, you were talking about celebrities. That’s OK, I don’t mind celebrity chit chat in the morning, I’m too lazy at this point to plug in my Zune for the 2 mile drive to work.
Dexter is so cool, he drags bodies through Miami Homocide.
Oh, and Reagen? A little note. Back in 9th grade, I read for the first time, The Lord of the Rings. You know, that classic book that everyone who is anyone has read. Well, the first movie came out and I really wanted to read the book before the next two movies were released. Well, I went down to Borders and bought the special edition hardback for $60. This was a lot of money considering at the time I didn’t have a job. Anyway, I bought it and read it like no other. Every day I was reading it. Would Frodo and Sam finally destroy The Ring? I didn’t know, I had about 7 or 8 chapters left, but they were close! Well, I set my book down for a moment in my Drama class, and my friend (Yes Chris, I’m still upset about this!) picked up my book and commented about it. THEN HE DECIDED TO BLURT OUT, “GOLLUM DESTROYS THE RING!” I don’t remember what exactly made him do this, I think he was talking to someone else and said it loud enough for the entire room to hear – including me.
Yeah. I was crushed. I was literally one chapter away from finding that out on my own in a riveting paragraph near the end of the series.
So when I got in the car that morning, ready to head to work, my radio was tuned to 102.5FM with your morning show already in progress. There you talked about the red carpet and blah blah blah, then you said something about an actress named Julie Benz. Now, I didn’t know who Julie Benz was until you said, “Julie Benz, who most of you know as the wife of Dexter Morgan in the Showtime program, Dexter. Rita, as you all know, was murdered at the end of the latest season of the series…”
AWESOME. THANK YOU REAGEN. THANK YOU SOOOO MUCH.
Sincerely F*ck You,
Cameron Kollwitz
Please, have a seat on my guitar amp
I have nothing shown in this picture.
It has been about four months since my roommate decided to ditch me to be with his underage girlfriend across country (I’ll write about this later). And I still don’t have furniture in my apartment. I think at this point, I’m “beyond furniture”. I’m going to just get some mats and go oriental.
Luckily, having a lack of furniture allows me to keep my apartment clean! Things being clean is generally a big plus when you have a friend-diagnosed case of obsessive compulsive disorder (Or, more commonly known as OCD). But when friends come over and sitting space is limited, alternatives are used. Such as my Fender amp.
Now accepting furniture donations. 
NASA Crushes Me, Common Courtesy And Why It’s Not Implied, Happy New Year!
Jan 3rd
You can be anything you want to be.
Not.
After some recent soul searching with my recent degree development, I’ve decided to revert back to my 5 year old dreams of wanting to become an astronaut. However, this was short lived as I skimmed the basic NASA Astronaut Selection Requirements page. While skimming this page slowly, I was accompanied by several nods and “uh-huhs” as I read the page. Degree? Not yet, but working on it. Blah blah blah, more requirements here and there… then finally, as I get near to the end with positive hope of my childhood dreams, NASA delivers a crushing blow to me.
- Standing height between 62 and 75 inches.
Well, shit.
God. Dammit.
They (as in family and coaches) always said I would be able to do whatever I wanted to do and that I was lucky because I am tall. Being tall apparently opens many doors for you, such as being able to get things off the high shelves at Costco, or being the guy that everyone goes to to change a light bulb. But what they don’t tell you, is that being tall also slams shut in the most abrupt fashion, one of the coolest doors out there. Being an astronaut. This would normally be fine if I aspired to being a salesman at Foot Locker, but dammit, I wanted to be an astronaut.
Thanks NASA. Thanks.
Did you just fart?
This is how the Cold War actually started
Despite being absolutely crushed and devastated by NASA being the equivalent of the jocks picking on the fat kid, I got to thinking about about other potential career options. But the thought was interrupted by a familiar scent of nitrogen, carbon dioxide, oxygen, methane, and hydrogen sulfide; basically a fart. Normally, when you smell something as rank as a landfill, and there are only two people in the room – you know it’s the other person. But when the other person is so poorly mannered that they just don’t say anything, ugh. Unfortunately, this is something I encountered. Instead of being a juvenile about it, I just got up and left the room. But come on people, say “excuse me” once in a while.
Ben Stiller has nothing to do with any of this. I just like this picture.
Another thing that I’m certain most people can attest to, is that there is a definite lack of common courtesy these days. While at times, I can seem vulgar and abrasive, at least if I burp, I WILL F*CKING SAY EXCUSE ME. I was raised to say it, and it seems like the majority of people have forgotten it.
It’s just like while in hell at work*, I am barked orders all day without the slightest notion of a “Please” or “Thank you” or even a less-abrasive tone. Instead, generally once every two months, I am comforted by a, “You know all my courteousness is implied, right?”
No. It’s not. It is not implied. Ever.
That’s why it is called common courtesy. Because you are supposed to say it to be courteous. It’s not called, “Commonly implied manners now go pick up that piece of dog shit.” Please, for the love of Ben Stiller, say the right thing and don’t be a dick about it.
Oh yeah, happy New Years.
Well, at least one thing went right – and that is time. Let’s not get in to the whole black hole spacetime faster-than-light travel argument though. The clocks turned 00:00:00 and everyone lived. At least until 2039. But that’s a ways away so let’s not concern ourselves with it. I plan to die by 2023 in a freak radioactive motorcycle accident while riding around Chernobyl.
I drove to Reno, Nevada with some friends and had a great time. Got to push through crowds and crowds of people, and I think I even licked someone’s face. Some photos are up on my Flickr if you feel like stalking me a little bit (It’s OK, I won’t call the cops). The snow pictures were on our way back on one of my favorite exits on I-80 – Yuba Gap. Seriously, if you’re looking for an awesome camping spot during the summer, this is your exit.
Welcome to the 10’s people. Actually, that could confuse some people. What the hell do we call this decade?
* I actually like my job, I just need to make more money.
So this is how it begins…
Jan 1st
Hello. It’s been a while, I know. What’s that? Yeah, it’s been almost 2 years. Or perhaps, it’s been more. Either way, it has been a while. Wow, it really has been a while since I’ve done any type of serious blogging. Perhaps too long. But, what is done is done. I guess I should get started then.
Hello. 你好. Hej. Shalom. Ciào. こんにちは. Pryvit. Hola. Bonjour. Or, as my dad would say, Aloha!
(This is where you say hello back)
Welcome. My name is Cameron Kollwitz. When I’m not on a computer, I enjoy eating crayons, throwing things at people, occasionally creating electronic music, playing my guitar, or listening to Stephen Hawking lectures. When I am on the computer, I’m probably writing, studying, gaming, programming, designing, or watching various reruns of It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia or Scrubs.
This doesn’t fell right. I think it’s time to adjust to a little more of how I like to write these days… like, with pictures.
Ahhh… much better.
Alright you nerds, listen up. I’m back. Yeah, that’s right, I’m back and there is nothing you can do about it. I spent the last three months arguing with some damned link farmer to get my domain back. Unfortunately, the bastard (Normally I would link here so people could insult him, but I won’t even give him that satisfaction) wouldn’t even sell it to me. You know, the one who’s near unique name is the same as the domain name (Seriously, I have never met another Cameron Kollwitz or even heard of one). He ended up selling it to another company who immediately contacted me saying, “Hay. lol. you want this?” Of course I want it. “How much?” I asked. “We are asking $700.”
$700!? FFFFFFFUUUUUUUU
$700.
For my domain name. My name.
You know how they say the Chicxulub crater was created by the asteroid that wiped out the dinosaurs and other species? No, this is not true. In fact, that crater was formed by a slimy domain squatter (Probably somewhere in Los Angeles, or possibly in Des Moines – because, well, f*ck Des Moines) who said that you can have your domain back for $700.
Luckily, I didn’t cave to this punk. I just responded with “lol” to the email and tried to forget about it. Meanwhile, he was receiving a grand total of 57 visitors a year. Perhaps I am under exaggerating this number, but my point is that it was a waste of money to him. No one was going to buy it, and most people who were linking to me at one point were no longer. This guy wasn’t going to get sh*t. Another month passes, and he offers it to me for $300. Yeah. No. I ignore it.
Finally, I get a “final” offer for $200. Nope. Then two days later, he offers it to me for, and I quote, “A final offer of $90.” $90, huh? Sounds pretty steep when I’m really the only person that can use the domain… IN THE WORLD. Finally, I email him back and offer of $50. He doesn’t like that. He tells me that the offer is final. $90. Take it or he re-registers it for another year and I’m S.O.L. Screw it. Merry Christmas to me.
So here I am. Back and with presumably more attitude and a little bit more confidence with my writing. I’ve been practicing, only you don’t know where and no I will not tell you (Google can’t help you either). All you need is your towel. Never forget your towel.
I haven’t been doing any web related things (web related as in following trends, development, etc) for the past few years, and I know I am horribly out of touch with current ideologies. Is coding things in Perl/CGI still good? (That was a joke, don’t comment saying, “lmao perl is awful go php or go home”)
The lights are stars and Tom Jones is the center of the universe.
Actually, I was in school for a while (am again) for Computer Science. Whoop-die-do. What a waste of time. As much as I love technology and working on computers… I couldn’t major in that. I needed to do something even more fascinating with my life. So starting this month, I’m working on an Astrophysics degree.
Yeah, that deals with stars and planets and little things you can only see with a really f*cking powerful computer. I’m sure at this point you can see my ulterior motive.
Well, sorta. Quantum Mechanics have been a real fascination with me for the past while, and well, if I’m that obsessed with reading and learning about it, then I’m sure that I will love it.
Not only that, but I’ve also become the master of time and space. Almost like Hiro from Heroes, but without the malignant tumor eating away at my brain. How is this possible you ask? As I sit here mashing on this extremely noisy keyboard, I must note that the time is December 20, 2009 and approximately 4:43pm.
“Hey Cameron. wtf? Your post says January 01, 2010 @ 0:01.”
You see young Padawan, on January 1st at midnight… I’m going to be so completely out of it I won’t wake up until the 2nd to push submit on this post which I have so generously typed out. Ah the love of automated procedures.
All that aside though, I’m really looking forward to writing publicly again on my own little space on the internet in the universe. I plan on getting back in to trends of the old and new, so help me out a little bit. Or don’t… you can be a dick if you want to. Ass.