It’s Been Awhile

Monday, July 2nd, 2012 | Fatherhood | Comments Off

So I realized that it’s been quite a long time since I’ve updated my blog.  The original intention of my blog was to vent my frustrations at work.  First, there was the three years of hell at the bank call center, then followed by a much need change of occupations back to my true passion of the IT world.  That did wonders for my sanity.  Working in a job where the people you talk to need your help, and are generally very appreciative of that help, is wonderful.  I started in a help desk position at my current company, and I was there for about a year and a half.  At that point, I accepted a promotion at work, landing me a job in IT Operations, which also moved my wife and I back to Seattle, WA.  IT Operations is pretty great, because the scope of people I deal with now has moved away from the IT challenged and into the realm of being the one calling the shots when things break.  The job is great, so there’s not much to vent about.  Since moving back to Seattle though, life has changed quite a bit…

In May of last year, my wife started feeling strange, and after some tests discovered that she had a growth in her stomach.  We had a few visits to various doctors and medical practitioners, where finally one of them said, “Yes, your wife does indeed have a growth in her stomach, and it will have to come out eventually.”  The thought of what it would be like when this growth came out scared the both of us.  One doctor we visited, said,  “Well, I’ve looked at the images, and your growth is a girl.”  I was all, “Say wha?! Are you sure there’s not a penis in there?” My wife was like, “That’s how I got the growth in the first place!” And we heard a rim shot out of nowhere.

Fast forward about 6-7 months later, and on Jan 25th, 2012, our daughter Eleanor Katherine was born.  She’s 5 months old now, and she’s the most precious little girl in the world.  At times, she’s also the most frustrating little girl in the world.  I hear the collective gasps, “But Cuban, how can you call your own little daughter frustrating?! You monster!”  I ask you, have you ever tried to change a diaper, only to have the child move in just the precise way that you get green, gloppy poop all over your hand?  It’s happened to me, and it’s not fun.  Have you ever taken a baby somewhere in public just to go for a walk, and have them scream uncontrollably like you’ve just bitten off their toes while high on bath salts, only to then be completely stumped as to what they want in order to calm them down?  It’s happened to me, and I had everyone in the mall glaring at me like I’m the father that Satan raised because, “How can you let your precious, adorable baby scream like that?”  Dammit, because I’m trying to rush to the family lounge so I can change what I can only imagine is the diaper doody to destroy all diapers.  The one shit that will rule them all.  The way she was screaming, I envisioned the shit demon from Dogma was now living in her diaper, and he was ready to burst forth.

I’ll talk more about poop demons and other things in later posts.  So you all stop thinking I’m some terrible monster.  I kid when I say that my daughter is frustrating.  It’s not her that’s frustrating.  It’s me.  There’s a breakdown in communication when it comes to being a parent and taking care of your infant.  The breakdown is that she can’t talk, and I don’t understand her cute jibber jabber cooing and squealing, so it’s basically as if she’s from another place, we’ll call that place Wombington.  It’s right down the junction from Uteran Town.  I just don’t speak the same language that they do in Wombington, and she doesn’t speak any other language that I could possibly understand.  So the frustration really lies in being a new father and getting the hang of it all.

So from now on, unless something changes at work and I need to vent, most of my posting will be about my daughter, being a father, and the crazy hijinks that comes with raising an infant.  There are a lot of things that people don’t tell you when you mention, “My spouse and I want to have a kid!” And dammit, those things need to be told to the masses.

Also, any suggestions on possibly changing the name of my blog?  I was thinking, “Diary of a Cuban Dad, man.”

Warning: Angry Language Inside

Thursday, September 9th, 2010 | IT | Comments Off

It’s been one of those days.  We start off by four people calling in sick.  Well, two calling in, and the third, after he already knew we were down two people, gives a shitty lameass excuse for why he has to leave early.  The fourth looked legitimately sick, so that’s fine.  The two who called in?  Biggest waste of IT space ever.  Four people down in my department makes my day turn to shit, tons of calls, tons of e-mail, and of the few people who are here, only two of them, myself included, are worth a damn.

So my last call, I have to give a hearty “Fuck you” to the local tech at the hospital.  Fuck you, Tech-man.  Fuck you in your stupid old man face.  I swear to all that is holy that if you ever again tell a user that my instructions won’t fix their issue, and that you’d prefer to waste 4 hours of their day by running scandisk and defrag, that I’ll drive up to your hospital and punch you in your retarded mouth, you fucking moron.

We have a known issue caused by some group policy issues, and a new fix was put out last week, but the catch is that the PC needs to be rebooted to receive the fix.  The issue causes some TCP ports to hang, which then causes all kinds of crap to go haywire including slowness on the network, and eventually causing the network connection to fail completely.  The user was trying to install Adobe Reader via our network install, and it’s showing that it’s going to take 2+ hours to install, when it’s a 5 minute install.  I tell him to reboot, he says he’ll do it, we hang up.  He calls back two minutes later and says, “Oh, the local tech said that rebooting won’t fix it and he wants to run some cleaning applications.”  So basically, the local guy tells the user that I don’t know what I’m talking about, and makes me look like an ass, when it’s a well known and documented issue.

So screw you local guy.

I Should Start Charging You

Monday, August 9th, 2010 | IT | Comments Off

Seriously, maybe if I did that, people would stop calling with retarded shit that they could deal with on their own.  I realized today that this is the issue with most people when they have an IT department available to them at any time.  If the normal end-user is at home on their own PC, and shit starts going south, they have about three options; One, they can pay someone like Geek Squad to fix their PC.  Two, they can attempt to work on it themselves by using Google to figure out what the hell is wrong.  Or three, they can reboot their stupid ass computer because that fixes about 75% of most normal users issues.

So if you would normally reboot your retarded POS computer at home when crap goes weird on you, why the hell don’t you do that at work, and save yourself the time of me looking at it and then me asking you to reboot the thing?  Oh, that’s right, because my services are free to you.  I bet all the tea in China that if we had a little saying at the beginning of our call tree that said, “This call will cost $5, deducted from your paycheck directly,” that every single user would reboot their computer first to see if it’s a one-off issue like a botched TCP/IP stack, or if something is really broken that needs direct interaction from a tech.

Don’t get me wrong, I love helping people, and stupid people keep me employed, but what I don’t love is the fact that people know that a reboot is what’s going to fix their issue, but they get attitude when asked to do it.  This happens way too often, and it’s usually doctors, a doctors assistant, or a nurse that’s been told to handle the situation for a doctor.  The typical response from a doctor is, “I’m way too busy to deal with this, so instead of troubleshooting, I’d like for you to just send someone out to my location.”  I’m not dispatching a tech just to reboot a stupid computer for you because you’re too afraid, or think you’re too important, to be doing some basic troubleshooting.

What’s my fix for this issue?  Easy.  I force a remote shutdown on their computer no matter what they’re doing.  If you’re going to tell me that you’re too busy to deal with your own PC, then I’m going to do the work on my own schedule and the hell with yours.  Yeah, I’ll be nice about it, and I’ll give you a 2 min shutdown window that you better use to save whatever you’re working on at that moment.  Next time, if you want more of a window, then make some time to work on it.

The Truth and Nothing but the Truth

Wednesday, June 30th, 2010 | IT | 1 Comment

Just a quick rant here in an open letter to the woman in medical records I just talked to.

It doesn’t help you, or me, to overexagerrate the problem you’re having with your computer printing.  If it works fine when printing in Word, or doing a Windows test print, then tell me that.  Don’t tell me, “Oh, well it takes 10 minutes for the print to send from any application I use!”  That’s bullshit.  You know it, and I know it.  So when I remote into your computer myself and run a test print and it sends immediately, don’t act all surprised that it’s working there.

You have a legitimate issue with printing, but it’s in a specific application, so just tell me that and I can send it to the analyst for that application so they can fix you up in 5 minutes.  Your lying to me does nothing but cause more work, and then possibly make it so that I dispatch a local tech because you insist that it’s your entire .  If that happens, you could be waiting up to 24 hours for your problem to get solved.  I personally don’t care how long it takes for your problem to be fixed.  Once I send it off to a tech or an analyst, it’s not my problem anymore, so just be upfront and honest with me and we can get your shit fixed in a minimal amount of time.

It may work with your poor husband at home, the whole, “The sky is falling, the sky is falling!” and all you need him to do is change a damn light bulb, but I’m not your husband, so that shit doesn’t fly with me.  Stop it.  Seriously.