the heretic genetic algorithm

Forgot this one in the general rush to get it actually read in time for book club. I first read it a while after it came out. I'm starting to realise that Myers-Briggsing as an introvert (*) isn't good for prompt receipt of new and interesting books, and by the time I'd read it I was already slumming it in a rusty rat-infested caravan in rural Oxfordshire due to lack of "proper jobs". But I was still young enough to appreciate it all without cynicism, I guess. Whereas now the main characters are fairly slappable, and I can no longer remember whether Coupland is a shrewd observer or whether I just started living the book. It doesn't really matter - I did enjoy it and get a lot out of it, and will almost certainly read it in 10 years time with even more of the wry and slightly smug, slightly relieved benefit of hindsight that now lets me smile benignly on 20-something women who "will do anything by my maaaaaan - he's the one who made me what I am".

The footnotes were great, actually, whereas the story was by necessity slight. But it was sharply observed and well-written, and made me remember why I liked Coupland in the first place. It's probably a classic, and should be compulsory reading at 15, 25 and 35.


* see '101ism'

As far as I'm concerned, I'm being paid to spend 10 hours a day listening to Personal Jesus on my MP3 player. My hands pretty much work themselves these days.

Which is a sad inditement of the challenge I get from my work. Leading to a fairly reliable performance indicator of my error rate.

I can do it with my eyes closed and one hand tied behind my back, so I frequently do... just for kicks.

I've put in a formal warning to my line manager that I'm stressed. A big step for me. I've told my family that I can't cope any more, and they're broadly sympathetic.

I have three options, which will pan out over the next month or so.

So I'm chipping away at the oppressive block in my life.

Not sure what to say, really. The time since I got back from Scotland has been good - went to Joust, had a very successful BBQ (my first ever party!), nice drinks with malcygoff, visiting cute godson. All good.

Even work is not so bad, as I alternate between bug fixing, and looking at the DonkeyCam.

And my ex's new GF left yesterday, so I no longer have to keep running into her at work. My ex has moved to a half-timbered house in Trumpton, but on the bright side, I've offloaded all his crap. Actually - that's all the bright side, as the idea of him re-settling into a suburban twee-ville lifestyle is quite amusing.

Only bad news is that they keep putting real bits of animal into all the new and exciting crisps.

*sigh*

This morning, I had an interview for a better paid techy job. Could take it or leave it really, in the sense that pros and cons are balanced, rather than in the sense of apathy.

Lately I've noticed that I really couldn't care less what people think of me. I used to worry when people picked holes in things I said, or were sarcastic. I'd worry that they'd think I was stupid, and I'd vigorously defend my corner.

Now I just think, fuck 'em. I'm not sure whether this is because I'm becoming more secure and confident in myself, or whether I'm just turning into an arrogant bitch.

Either way, I just can't be bothered to engage in it at all. Life seems too short.