HeiBlog

I don’t find roadkill a pleasant thing. At the same time it doesn’t bother me that much. It’s just something that happens. The animal is at the wrong place at the wrong time and the drive of the vehicular didn’t or couldn’t do anything to prevent the accident. I’d rather the animal just pass in a “natural” fashion. Old age, killed for food, disease… something that could happen to any creature away from a road. The only animal I ever hit was a hawk. It had miscalculated its dive across the road into the median and clipped the top of my car. Driving along at 70 mph on the interstate I didn’t see the bird and it was too late by the time I noticed. I felt horrible, but there was nothing that I could do.

On my way back from the Maryhill Museum of Art last Saturday I decided to stop by the Maryhill Loop Roads. At the intersection with the highway a coyote had been hit. Looked pretty recent. On the way back I had to steer to avoid the carcass. Looking over at it again I noticed the coyote had an inordinately large penis. Looking again it was obviously a plastic or silicone phallus. Just plain disturbing. I debated putting the picture here, but finally decided just to link it so you can decide if you want to view it or not. Poor Coyote.

What I find most disturbing is that someone took the time and expense to place a dong on the animal. While this is disgusting and disturbing, at the same time I am curious at what was going through their mind while they were doing it. In the twisted part of my mind I can see some kind of humor, but at the same time I see the lack of regard and respect for the animal. Did they see it and they come back or did they happen to have a dildo with them? Last time I check there weren’t any sex toys in my car. Well, not unless you wanted to improvise. Maryhill is kind of remote and gets at lot of through traffic and tourists which makes this whole scene odder.

So I share this with the world and let it decide for itself. If you want to see some more pleasant photos see my other pictures of Samuel Hill’s creations in the Maryhill area.

So, getting the car was a process, but at least I had my wheels and didn’t have to fork out more money for a rental. I had move out about 10 days before my first day of work to allow time to move in. On my first day in Richland, 11/29, I get a called from the moving van driver. The truck had broken down. He didn’t say where and didn’t know how long it would be until he would be in the area. I found out latter that he was broken down in Montania. For me it didn’t matter since I didn’t even have an apartment yet. But, all I had was a suitcase and my computer bag and my stay in the lab guest house ended on Sunday.

So, I “move in” to a place get the car and no word from the driver. I call him and the truck was still being repaired. He called me again on December 5th to say that the truck is nearly finished and that he should be back on the road by the next day, but he still had no idea when he will be in the area for a drop off.

I had already made plan to visit a friend in Vancouver for the weekend. I wanted to leave Thursday, but though my stuff might be dropped off that afternoon. No word. Fuck it, I was running out of things to do and didn’t just want to sit around my empty apartment waiting for my crap to show up. So, I just leave on Friday. On the road I get a call from the moving company asking if I would be available for a drop off on Saturday. I just told them that I would be “out of town until Monday evening.”

So Monday on my drive back I get a call from the driver. “Mr. Heibeck, will you be around Tuesday afternoon.” Tuesday was 12/12, the day I was starting my new job. Luckily the day was just training and people were flexible enough that I could duck out of work for a few hours. Mind you all of this is being coordinated on cell phones, so the driver would basically call me a few hours before he’d drop off my stuff. How did we live before we had these things?

Could I have a smooth move in? Of course not. We get everything moved in and the drive and I are doing the paperwork. I was missing one box on my check list, box 29. He had that box marked as being loaded on the truck back in Massachusetts, but had box 35 marked as missing. I had box 35 marked as present. So, I start going through the boxes, double checking all of the numbers (we’d gotten up to about 110 different items in the moving lot). One of the last boxes was box 29, but I hadn’t found box 35. Looking at box 29 I saw that it had two stickers on it, 29 and 35. Well, at least I got a little exercise.

With that done I was just chatting with the driver. It ended up that this was his first time driving for a moving company and it was going to be his last. He was from Queens, New York and away from his wife and little kid for a whole month. Every time he called home he kid asked “Daddy where are you coming home?” He had a total of 8 drops on the trip. I was the second to last one with last in Oregon. The driver told the moving company that he was going back empty and had had enough. More power to him. I’m sure there are plenty of decent trucking jobs in the Middle States region.

The car market in the Tri-cities seemed tough to me. Meaning good for dealers, but bad for the buyer. If you want a Honda there is one dealership and you have to drive at least an hour to get to another. While this might just be a simple inconvenience for people intending to trade in their old car or have more than one car and know someone who is willing to put the time in to drive them to the dealership and wait, I had a different situation. I had a rental and only knew one person in town, but didn’t want to ask them to drive me around (just seemed like a hugh imposition).

So, I start making phone calls to dealers looking for a Honda Fit and soon find out that there aren’t any for about 300 miles. The sales guy at the Honda dealership in Pasco was pushy and wanted to get me in a used Civic, but I didn’t want a Sedan. Tri-City Motors, the local Toyota/Scion dealership wasn’t much more helpful. So I start making some phone calls. I just didn’t want to deal with a used car at this point. There just wasn’t time to get a good deal and do the normal dance. Talk, research, walk away, come back, talk, you know the drill, pain in the ass. So, I focused on a Scion xA.

Nobody has one. Seems that it’s a popular car and not enough are made, same story that I found with the Fit. I finally find a dealer in Yakima at Bud Clary Toyota (yep, I just have them a plug) that has one, just not in the color that I wanted. Most of the other options are dealer installed, so color was about the only thing I was picky on. Chad Russell was his name and he offered to try and broker a trade. Toyota tracks all of their inventory across the country. Chad could even see if a specific car had come off the boat yet. We go back and forth on the phone for about an hour and finally find one that fit the bill.

Now the only problem was that the dealer is in Yakima, about a 1.5 hour drive away. But, I can take a bus from Pasco. So, the transportation setup was that the car would be driven from Spokane (2 hours away from Yakima) and Chad would pick me up at the Yakima bus station. So, how do I get to the Pasco bus station that’s on the other side of the Tri-cities from where I am (keep in mind things are really spread out in this area)? By bus. Ends up on Saturdays the buses on most routes run about once or twice an hour. So, I walk downtown and in a hour I make it over to Pasco. There was cold and having to find a bathroom in downtown Richland on a Saturday to deal with as well, but that’s not in the main plot.

On top of this I have to get insurance, because you can’t drive a car off the lot without insurance. I’m on the phone with the insurance company and things are going well. “What is the VIN for your vehicle?” “Ummm, I don’t have it yet?” “Oh, the dealer can get it, who should I talk to.” It sounded simple, but the car was in transit and not at the dealer. Also, it was so new that the VIN wasn’t on record yet. The agent phoned me about 3 times during my bus trip. “Are you at the dealer yet?” “No, I’m on a bus” “A bus?” “Yes, I don’t have a car so I can’t driver there.” “Oh” It finally ended up that I had to wait until I got to the dealership to finish the transaction. Once the insurance company faxed a proof of insurance form we were all set. They were just going to email it to me, but I didn’t have an Internet connection at the time. Then I’d have to figure out how to print the damn thing.

So this got me to asking myself what people did before the Internet, FAX machines, and cell phones. Probably just planned ahead and took their time to get things done. Anyway, I got the car and the people at the dealership were good. The fact the Scions are a fixed price (no dealing) was really helpful in my case and removed a whole bunch of BS from an already annoying process. At least from the drive home I can say that I am happy with my purchase and would get another one.

I had what I thought would be my final meeting with any staff member from Boston University last Friday, ever. The purpose of the meeting is to hand in the signed copy of the dissertation and some other forms. Should take about 15 minutes. Well, I have everything printed out and signed, ready to go.

Everything goes fine. Signature page? Check. Correct margins? Check. Full source title names in the bibliography? Check. Other forms? Check. $100 money order paid to BU? Check $65 money order paid to PQIL? “$65?,” “Yes, the fee went up from $45 so you’ll have to get a $20 money order.” Transcript? Check. “There’s no recorded that you passed your qualifying exam?” “What?”

Back in March I got an email from the department’s academic administrator that there was no record of me having passed my oral exam. I thanked him for being proactive and filled out the required paperwork, thinking that it was all taken care of. Well, it wasn’t, he and I figured that it got stuck on somebody’s desk or was pitched. Actually, looking trough my file there was no record of my ever having passed said exam. So, how did I manage to do 7 more years worth of research and was allowed to defend my thesis.

The solution to this problem is to file a half-page form with the graduate school. I have this and my final defense form in my hand, ready for my second meeting with the records coordinator at the graduate school. Hopefully all of this will be taken care of and I can get my precious letter that states I am done and I’ll be able to start my job at PNNL. More on that later.

We as most people will know by now my defense didn’t happen. My committee was not satisfied with my dissertation and canceled the defense 16 hours before it was supposed to take place. This is a case of many balls dropped and bad timing. The lesson is that you should get people the document early before you schedule the defense.

This is also a cautionary tale for those going their thesis work in a different department. Different advisors and departments have different expectations. For example, my advisor is satisfied with my dissertation, but his expectations are very different than my committee’s. Also, someone from a different department doesn’t hold as much clout outside of their sphere of influence.

For myself I am back to writing and need to spend more time thinking about my data. Right now I really can’t think of what the hell my committee has issues with and am just sort of waiting around wondering, and wondering some more.

The end result will be a better constructed thesis and a more productive defense. Now I should plan some experiments and make sure I have all of the materials that I need, just in case I actually get a chance to be productive.

I was walking back from the Laundromat with a full load of clothes on my back. On the way you pass a gas station that is on the corner of a divided boulevard with a carriage lane and a one-way street. The turn on the to one-way street and wide. It is not uncommon for people to re-enter the boulevard directly from the station driveway and no matter how you cross to the other side of the one-way you will cross their path. Most people are patient and just wait for you to cross. This morning I was traveling at a normal speed, and began to cross the driveway just as a tire delivery truck (from “Town Fair Tires”) was leaving. The driver of course has to pause and allow me to cross. But, did he have to comment, “Take your time, really.” ? Useless shit like that just gets under my skin sometime.

The upside is that it was a gorgeous morning and I decided to take the 1.5 hour walk in to work. So only one negative today, doing pretty well.

The toilets and urinals in our building flash automatically. The flash devices on the urinals don’t have a button to force a flash, but the toilets do. When you stand to use the toilet (usually when the urinal is in use), the toilet does not flush because the sensor is calibrated for users who are sitting. That’s why there’s a button. Some people on my floor don’t know about the button or are just lazy. I know exactly what can happen in a bathroom, so I don’t need a visual reminder. So, please remember to flush, even if the flush is supposed to be automatic.

I’ve needed to complain about this for awhile. There are certain etiquettes that seem to be lost on my fellow T riders. Why do you have to stand in the doorways when there is plenty of room in the rest of the car? These are not people who are getting off at the next stop. These are not people who are disabled and would a difficult time wading their way through crowds. No, these are healthy adults just standing in doorways. This is especially bad on the Green Line. Today when I got off there were two guys on one of the middle stairwells, just standing there leaning back and reading their newspapers, leaving only enough room for one person to get through at a time. I purposefully brushed against both of their papers.

One more thing, why don’t people wait for other passengers to leave the car before they board. The train will not leave until all have boarded. And if you have space to spread out, why cram in front of the doorway so that those exiting have no place to go?

A solution to all this is common sense, something I know is lacking in many simply because they don’t take the time to realize it.

Okay, I’m done.

I get really annoyed with people who talk in doorways — especially when I am walking behind them and then they suddenly stop to chat with someone and then stay in the doorway — rather than move off to the side to let other people through.