There has been a very interesting discussion happening on the North American Network Operators Group (NANOG) mailling list about the scalability of today's Internet routers. A vast quantity of those routers support only 256,000 unique networks. According to the CIDR-Report, there are ~233,216 routes on the Internet, and at the current rate of 3,500 additional routes per month, we are going to be bumping into those hardware limits very quickly. Not many people are aware of the situation, and even fewer are prepared to perform the expensive upgrades. Has anybody already dealt with this and have solutions?
- Glaciers swim - like meat.
- In and Out - More meat than you can shake butter at. A stick of butter.
- of meat that looks like genitalia. - or vice versa.
More useful stuff!:
Fill in the blanks: a loaf of ___, a container of ___, and a stick of ___.
Something that is fun to say: "the angry man has tiny genitals."
$ stty sane
Well, I've completely converted to SlashChick.com. I was holding off since I didn't have the "put your email address here to receive updates" box, and I figured some of you would forget about me without the
Now that I've added that (and there's an RSS feed link on the right sidebar too, in case you want that), I think I'm all set to begin my journey over there! Go check it out, and don't forget to set up the RSS feed or enter your email address so you know when I've posted.
See you on the flip side!
Mostly a bunch of little contracts that I don't have time to finish. Anyone game? Email/AIM me.
I've posted my first blog over at SlashChick.com. This will be my new home for blogs. Right now I'm trying out Wordpress, which looks like it will fill my needs quite well. (More on blog software on the new site.)
I'll come over here and post whenever I put a big entry up there, but you'll have to comment over there. Leave me feedback there as you wish.
I've decided to not use Slashdot to post personal journals any more. Oh, sure, I'll still post business updates, etc. But I need to move to a blog system where I have control. A friend of mine recently came to the same conclusion, and now I understand why. He, too, posted personal things to his journal and received a few astoundingly negative comments. Sad, too, because his journal entry, My Inner Bush Voter, was one I shared with several friends as something I thought was a great example of a journal. Even if I don't agree with everything he says in it, I still think he did a great thing by coming out and saying what was on his mind, and I respect him greatly for that. (Just needed to say that.)
Many of you have been asking about the comment that caused me to delete my previous journal (deleting a journal is something that I've never really considered in the past, btw.) I still don't know who wrote it. Either it's someone who knows me really well or else I show a lot more of myself in these journals than I ever realized. The comment bothered me because it was clear that although the person who wrote it loved and respected me, he was also upset with the choice I had made, and went into several details. I write this to all my friends, real life and virtual: If you have a problem with me, please say it to my face. Don't write it anonymously in my Slashdot journal and then not own up to it. I may be mad at you for saying how you feel, but as your friend, I do understand and respect your position, even if I don't always agree with it.
I know whoever wrote that is probably reading this. Please call, email, or IM me and tell me who you are. I want to talk to you.
Yesterday was one of the roughest days of my life. I had dinner with my best friend / on-and-off-and-now-off-permanently-boyfriend of 7 years. He said he could no longer be my best friend.... it was basically hurting him too much to continue to be emotionally invested in my life. We were both crying by the end of dinner. I was already emotionally wrecked, so I said I couldn't deal with that right now but I respected his decision, and shoved that away in my mind to mull over later.
I got back from the overly emotional dinner to find that comment in my
Then, I figured I'd go for broke, since I was already dealing with too many things, and say goodbye to C, as well.
I already knew he was gone when I woke up this morning. I'd awakened earlier with a tremendous amount of pain. When I finally fell back to sleep, I woke up again a couple hours later knowing that he was gone without him even having said anything. He read the goodbye email this morning, and said the words I never wanted to hear, but that I knew I'd hear anyway. He said "thank you."
I've lost a lot in the past 24 hours. My best friend (which I guess I knew was going to happen anyway; you can't heal from a long relationship while still talking to the other person every day.) My lover, who is gone as well. Now it's just me again.
It will take a long time to heal from all of this.
So I find myself today sitting at a Panera in Nashville, TN. How I got here is a long story which I will perhaps save for a later Slashdot journal. Anyway, having not been to Nashville in many years, I came to this particular food establishment since it has free Wi-fi and I have about 3 or 4 hours to kill. I figured I might as well kill them in style by going to a place with free Internet access.
It has been a long time since I've been to anything resmbling the South. (I do not count my parents' house in Indiana, although close, to really be the South.) Living in California, you tend to forget that there are more places in the country than 1) California 2) Arizona 3) Oregon 4) Washington 5) Colorado 6) Texas 7) Nevada (only included for recreational purposes) and 8) New York City. Most of the time, since you have a good 5-6 hours of driving before you can even get out of the state, it's easy to forget that there are actually parts of the country where most people are white and speak English as their only language.
Panera is a lunch joint that offers an entertaining cross-section of the people from the South. Most people are white and relatively well-dressed; they're on business lunches with others. The food is very American; I consider American food pretty bland at this point, unfortunately. If this were California, every sandwich would have bean sprouts, tofu, and/or avocado and weird mayo. I sort of miss that. Here, I get a roast beef sandwich and it's just that. No strange mayo ("garlic herb", anyone?), no sprouts to pick off, and no avocado option.
The people are also fascinating. Here in Nashville, from my (admittedly non-Southern) viewpoint, there appear to be two types of people: those who relish their Southern heritage, complete with the country twang that always makes me giggle, and those who are trying desperately to prove that they aren't really from the South. Listening to conversations, there is often a mix of the two. Older people seem to be okay with the accent. Younger ones struggle with it to a large degree... you'll hear it slip out occasionally, but they're really having a time trying to pronounce things without the accent. It is definitely fun to watch.
I should probably get back to work so I can at least get somewhat caught up before I leave. I'll try to write more as the next few days go by; it should definitely be one of the most interesting weeks of my life.
This is the serious journal I wanted to write earlier. The Treo problems sort of blindsided me, but I've been meaning to write a serious journal for a while, and this is as good a time as any.
My life is a mess right now. Not totally a mess... I mean completely chaotic. Things are changing so quickly and I'm so busy that I barely have time to sit down and think about anything before I move on to the next item on the agenda. I mean, FFS, I still have moving boxes in my house, and I moved in late August. This is a problem.
On the other hand, since things are progressing so rapidly, I feel like I've grown a lot in the past few months. In particular, my week at IBI completed a huge growth cycle for me. In that 7 days, I grew more than I could in a year or more without IBI (both personally and professionally.) In that week, I finished growing up. At one point, about 4 days into IBI, I looked in the mirror at my hotel room (there was no one else around at that point) and realized I'd done it. I walked into a place where I knew absolutely no one and I walked out having met several lifelong friends, many of whom I've stayed in touch with (I've already gained 3 customers from IBI, as well as a business partner.) I have talked on the phone, over AIM, or over email with at least one person from IBI every single day since then, and I'm starting to realize that IBI will be a huge part of my future (I'm already planning to go back in December.) But for me, just knowing that these people who had no preconceived notions of me, who I was, where I came from, or what I did for a living... these people are now my biggest fans and supporters, and I theirs -- it's such a powerful thing as to be almost indescribable. On top of that, to know that I was the person who brought that home -- who convinced them that my company was worth investing in, being a customer of, or working for -- that's incredibly powerful in and of itself. It shows that I believe in myself and am confident enough to make other people believe in me.
That energy and confidence from IBI has settled into my heart as I've slowly begun to realize that I am an adult and that I can completely make it on my own. My heart has turned from an argument/war zone/conflicting place to a Zen-like garden of "if it happens, it happens, and if it doesn't, that's okay too" mentality. I used to push for things so hard, even if they weren't right. Now, I know that if something is right, God will make it happen. If it isn't right, that's okay too, and there was a reason for it.
I broke up with my boyfriend last week. We'd been dating on and off for nearly 7 years. (!) I think we were at that point where we realized if we took it any farther, we were going to have to get married, and getting married wasn't right for us for whatever reason. So we broke it off. It wasn't easy, and I'm still recovering (one big reason why I'm putting the brakes on any new relationship that develops -- I don't want to have a rebound, and I need some time to heal and think about all of this.)
Inside myself, I have found this fragile, but growing, Zen garden of peacefulness. It's great. I smile more now. I still worry all the time, but I am slowly getting over it. I have more self-confidence and a little less shyness about meeting new people.
There are still big mistakes from my past. (Who doesn't have those?) But those are being muted by my future, where I will try to make better decisions and learn from my bad decisions. My company is doing well. My life, though way too hectic for my newfound Zen preference, is generally moving in the right direction. And, for the first time in my life, I can say that I truly love who I have become.
I bet the title scared the crap out of some of you. (There are no less than 5 of you reading this journal who want to date me.) But that's okay... who needs men when I have a new Treo 600?
I went to the Sprint store today in Campbell and gave the girl there a good sob story about my poor Treo and its untimely death. My friend (after examining the dead Treo's butt) finally figured out what the real problem was -- I'd shorted the power connector out. Actually, some pieces of the power connector should be inside my car charger, because they were certainly no longer on my Treo. (I can exchange the car charger as well; I'll do that later today.)
Whatever pins I had damaged on the power connector were apparently critical to the operation of the Treo, so it decided to become a paperweight. The girl in the Campbell store was very friendly, and after establishing that I hadn't dropped it and that I'd owned it for less than a year, agreed to exchange it for free. So my friend and I drove up to the Sunnyvale Sprint store (location of the nearest working Treo 600) and I got a free refurbished Treo. My new Treo is sitting happily beside me, blinking its little green light. I haven't tried syncing it back yet, but I will once I get home later today. So a happy ending for all... there's a new man in town for me!
Edit (after reading comments): All 5 guys mentioned above have met me in person at least once.
One more edit: All data has synced up happily to the new Treo and I am now getting to know him better. Seems to be a smooth transition, all in all.
You know, I was going to write something deep in my Slashdot journal tonight, but this will have to do.
My Treo 600 has decided to become a paperweight, so my last few hours have been immersed in a) trying unsuccessfully to fix it by banging it on the desk, b) calling Sprint (no love for me there; I bought it from a friend and warranties don't transfer), c) whining to my other friends who have Treos, who have given me many more fix-it tips that haven't worked... and, when all else failed, d) giving up and watching a bunch of mindless TV (Monster House arr arr arr.)
Now I get to make a trip to the Sprint store and beg them for mercy (pleeeeeease fix my Treo for free so I don't have to go back to my old Treo 300 until the 650 comes out!) I'm getting up bright and early to march down there as soon as they open (10AM.) Yes, 10AM is early for me.
I love you, dead $400 Treo! *sob*sob*
Tonight, a friend of mine sent me a 66-page PDF of some childhood stories he wrote down and gave to his mom. As I've been reading them (I'm about halfway through) and laughing as I imagine a terrified little kid in church or him having to put up with his family's antics, I'm realizing I don't have that many childhood stories to share.
Growing up an only child pretty much guarantees an existence where you are left to fend for yourself on most occasions. I have snatches of memories here and there, but mostly just little 5-minute snapshots or memories of people instead of events.
My childhood was mostly filled with two things: 1) books and 2) Nintendo. I devoured books. I read quickly and grasped concepts even quicker, so I went through hundreds of books. By first grade I had read almost the entire Nancy Drew series and was starting on the Hardy Boys and Bobbsey twins. By third grade I had read the entire children's section of the library and was hankering for more, so my mother (always the mystery novel fan) started me on mystery novels. In 4th grade I was reading V.C. Andrews ("Aren't you a little young to be reading those?" I remember my teacher saying), and that's how I learned about sex. Yes, I learned about sex from a book where a paralyzed guy in a wheelchair got stuffed by a younger lady. That's all I remember. (Someday I fully intend to read them all again just to see what that was all about.)
My parents were 37 when they adopted me (I was adopted at age 3 days.) Thus, their friends' kids were all grown up as well, and my childhood was filled with the antics of characters in books instead of real friends. That is, except for Meghan.
When I was young (too young to have started school), someone started building a house next door to us. I was fascinated by this. They dug out the ground and built a basement first, and (much to my mother's chagrin) I was over at the construction site every day climbing around in the mud and thoroughly enjoying myself. Soon, the basement was finished and the walls started to take form. My dad and I would take walks through the house at night, and I can remember being utterly fascinated with knowing exactly where the toilet was going to go. "How do you know?!" I asked my dad whenever he said "That's going to be a bedroom" or "That's the bathroom." So he'd point out the plumbing and doors and I was totally amazed.
Eventually, they put all the walls on and started locking the doors, and I had to be content with staring at it while the rest of the house was built. Soon, it was finished and our new neighbors moved in. It was very fortunate that they happened to have a kid almost exactly my age -- Meghan, who was born 12 days before I was. I was just at that age where I needed a best friend (5 or 6), and soon Meghan and I were constantly together. Meghan was the oldest of 3 -- I remember when the youngest kid, Seth, was born.
Anyway, back to my other childhood passion -- Nintendo. Somehow, Meghan (I think it was her dad's idea) got a Nintendo as soon it was out. We quickly figured out that if you held the gun riiiight up to the TV screen, you could kill ALL the ducks in Duck Hunt. (My childhood was perpetuated with "Don't sit so close to the screen! You'll ruin the screen/your eyes/the Nintendo!") Of course, after playing it so often at Meghan's house, I knew what my must-have gift was that Christmas. I had to have that Nintendo.
I remember that Christmas quite vividly. My parents aren't religious, so Christmas never held more significance to me than "presents." That morning (knowing I was going to get a Nintendo, as it was the only thing I really wanted), I ran downstairs, found the biggest box (a Nintendo had to be in a huge box, right? After all, it came with that big gun for Duck Hunt.) I opened it...and found a pair of snow pants and a jacket! "Nooooo!!!" I howled. (My mom looked like she didn't know whether to laugh or cry.) Furious at this "trick" that had been played on me, I lunged into the second largest box... and found my Nintendo, complete with Mario Bros. and Duck Hunt.
I've been a video game junkie ever since, and I still have that Nintendo. If you look hard enough around my parents' attic, you'll probably even find that gun. My poor mother. I think she thought I was going to be blind before I turned 20...
So that's one of my childhood stories. I guess I had a few.
So I'm sick again...the second time in two weeks. Getting sick appears to have a direct correlation to the number of hours I sleep. I had 7 straight days where I got 4-6 hours of sleep a night, and I still hadn't fully recovered from my other cold...bam, another one.
I went to LA for one strange event. I describe it as "strange" because it completely changed my life in unexpected ways. Officially labeled as a "CEO Retreat", it's basically where 200 or so entrepreneurs gather in a hotel in LA for intensive classes and training sessions. The company running the session is IBI Global, and if you've been thinking about joining IBI, then I must say it's totally worth the price of admission.
I had little or no expectations coming into IBI. For one thing, I found out about IBI about 5 days before I actually went to the conference. For another thing, I knew walking out of the local meeting (local meetings are free and highly recommended if you're an entrepreneur or small business owner) that I'd be going to LA in a few days for this conference/retreat/seminar/whatever you want to call it.
I hopped on a plane with a couple other Bay Area IBI'ers (Don, who is starting a wireless ISP, and William, who runs a company dedicated to managing the personal lives of incredibly rich people.) I knew it was going to be an intense 7 days, but I had no idea what I was really in for.
I've had a couple company ideas floating around for a while (a year, actually) but really had no idea how to get them off the ground. I even had people saying "Send me a business plan; I'd like to invest" and I still didn't know what the heck to do about it. (Write a business plan, right? Well, you sit down and write a 125-page business plan having never done it before and having no idea what to put in it.)
I quickly learned at IBI that I am a born salesperson. Ever heard of an "elevator pitch"? (That's the 30-second demo of your business that you give to people so they'll want to invest with you by the time the elevator gets to its destination.) IBI calls that a SNAP, and by the end of the conference, I was snapping not only for myself, but for several others at IBI whose projects I really got a kick out of. I started to realize that the real power of my pitch was confidence -- the more confident I was, the more confident others became in my success. Without letting myself become egotistical, I started to really enjoy myself, and impressed the heck out of a lot of other people (I had to be one of the youngest people there.)
What I didn't count on was meeting the people I met. I met several people there I put on my team (I now have a CFO and a law firm!) and several people who put me on their teams (I'm going to help build a radio station and a wireless ISP.) But there was one person in particular who really stood out in my mind. This guy bears an uncanny resemblance to...me! It's so wild to meet someone so much like yourself at one of these conferences (well, so he's 40-something and married, but you know, he also has a Treo and a Miata and is a complete geek.) Of course, I hired him, and put him on as my business partner. (Gotta convince those investors to invest in something other than a bunch of twentysomethings anyway.) So my business has completely changed (I won't own 100% of Simpli in just a few short months), but now I'm confident I can write the business plan and get investors on board, especially since they'll be investing in a company that already has a lot of revenue and is profitable.
My life changed entirely in 7 days, but it's been a good change. Simpli will become a multi-million dollar business in the next 3-5 years, and I'll be driving that. I've also built a team of people whom I am absolutely ecstatic to work with. It is a pretty cool feeling.
There's an excellent article on Slashdot right now about the "long tail" of the creative industries like music and book publishing. The article reveals that less popular, niche items now have an audience through the Internet (which is quickly becoming known as the place to find obscure books, movies, etc.)
The article is a great read, and parallels what I see in my everyday life. Back in 1996, I was downloading MOD files (anyone remember those?) from the Internet. Some of them were awful, and some of them were really good. I eventually collected so many of them that I made a website about which ones I liked, which proved to be rather popular.
MOD files -- for those of you who don't remember them -- were stuck somewhere in between MIDI and MP3 (this was before MP3 came out.) Producers used what was called "tracker" software to produce them, and stuck synthesized sounds together to create music. The MOD files were labeled by the number of channels used to create them; the number of channels denoted how many different sounds could play at once. (4-channel and 8-channel were common.) Most of the music created in that tiny industry was pretty strung-out house, chill, and dance music. Some of it featured beats from popular dance mixes of that era; some was so far out there that the beats used to create them were unrecognizable or made up by the artist. (I've decided to throw one of my favorite MOD files up for download so you can see exactly what I'm talking about. This MOD was created in 1995, downloaded by me in 1996, and I've managed to move it to every computer I've owned since the 486 I used to download it.)
So there I was, back in the day, a geeky kid interested in this new "scene." I knew that the music I was hearing here bore little or no relation to what was currently on the radio, but that I liked it more than 99% of the stuff I heard on the radio. That was my first realization that the Internet held much more power than a simplistic "push" medium like radio; here we had an entire underground scene of music creators and listeners; websites with ratings for each song; and music publishers who were, in reality, just normal people "tracking" from their basement or computer room.
And this was in 1996.
Fast-forward to 2001. My mother (who was, by all means, computer-illiterate) discovers Amazon.com. My mother is a complete book junkie -- a habit which I've inherited as well. My mom, however, loves finding out-of-print and hard-to-find books by obscure authors (especially mysteries) and reading them. She owns hundreds of obscure mystery novels, and also has a list of which ones she's still actively looking for.
She discovered Amazon.com's out of print section, and the next day had ordered hundreds of dollars worth of out-of-print books. I don't think I saw her for another week! Mom has since become hooked on Amazon -- not just because they sell books, but because she can find what she's looking for with one click -- and then find out what everyone else who liked that book is reading, as well.
My dad really didn't get into the computer or Internet revolution at all. Even today, he won't email me -- he has his secretary do it. We (that is, my mother and I) couldn't get him to use the Internet at all until I got my parents a Netflix subscription earlier this year.
My parents live in a small town of 2500 people, which, by the way, is the town I grew up in. (2500 people is small...you don't realize quite how small until you live there!) Anyway, my father hated the local video rental store because they only carried "crap." "Crap," to my dad, is anything that a) is mass-produced; b) spends actual money on special effects; and/or c) caters to an audience larger than "older male who just wants to see some alien get the shit kicked out of it."
Enter Netflix. My dad promptly discovers that they have every horrible sci-fi movie ever produced, including a whole ton of Dr. Who movies, and plops down in front of the computer. An hour later, he had added over 120 movies to his Netflix list, and was on the phone with our neighbor (who happens to share the same love for bad sci-fi that my dad has) gibbering about how they needed to throw a Dr. Who party. "They even have 'It Came From Outer Space!'", I hear him yelling into the phone. (Meanwhile, my poor mother, knowing she was about to be subjected to horrible Dad-movies, was browsing the Romantic movie section, hoping to offset a few of Dad's selections.)
The Internet really has shaped my life -- but that's to be expected. What I don't think anyone anticipated was the impact it would have on "normal" people like my parents, who wouldn't really be using the Internet at all if it wasn't for me. People around the world just like my parents have found new music, new books (and really old, bad independent movies) that they never knew they would like. This Wired article summed it up from an economic standpoint, but I figured I'd share my own personal experience as well. Hey, if something can get my dad interested in the Internet, that's a sure-fire winner.
Today I approached my client (the one currently being hung out to dry by my friend) and gave them a stellar deal.
There is background to this whole story in my last journal, so if you haven't read that yet, read it first. Quick summary: I left this contract in May and gave it to a friend of mine, who flaked out on it about 2 weeks ago.
I left them after I had submitted a redesign proposal. I spent 8+ hours on the original comp (Photoshop layers and all!) and presented it about a month before I left. They loved it, but then their second-in-command suggested getting quotes from other web designers. Plus, their sales manager said I was "too expensive" (at $50/hour for design work? Please!) and hired someone else to do a project for them.
Having had enough of this negative feedback from their staff, I threw down an ultimatum. "If you like my work," I said, "hire me. If not, hire someone else and be done with it. I'm not splitting out projects with anyone else."
Well, they sat on that for about a month and I got sick of waiting. Eventually, I canned the redesign, pulled back all comps of it, and had them sign a contract stating they were not allowed to use it without my permission (and they didn't have my permission.) I also gave them the name of my friend and recommended her as my successor.
Fast-forward to today. Their website still hasn't been redesigned. They're currently stuck -- they can't seem to find anyone who is both a programmer and a graphic designer. Their second-in-command, T, did manage to find someone who is a PHP programmer, but the programmer "is not into that graphic stuff," as T put it.
So far, the only thing that has been added to the website since I left in May has been one PHP page done by the aforementioned programmer whom T hired. My friend has not added anything new to the site.
I called T up today (remember, he was the one pushing "other contracts" that first caused me to be unsettled about this company), and pitched him. "Look," I said. "If you hire someone else, it's going to be December before they even have a grasp on this website. I'd like to come in and finish what I started."
T made some neutral "well, maybe that would work out" comments, so I added the one sentence I knew would close the deal. "If I don't have the website completely redesigned, up and running before November 30, it's free of charge," I said.
Stunned silence from T's end. Then, "Wow."
Of course, T still has to talk it over with the man in charge. And there are going to be some hurdles to overcome -- namely, finding people from my end to do the work I am too busy to do. But by convincing T, who was my hardest sell back in May, and having him convince the guy in charge, I think I can pull off this contract. Of course, I'll be charging them a ton of money for it. And I'll be outsourcing most of it (especially the PHP programming part...a couple of friends of mine are already interested in that part.)
I know I can pull this off. It won't be easy, but I want to finish what I started and close the door instead of having to train another designer/programmer about the website I already know like the back of my hand. Plus, the contract will be enough to completely pay for a hot tub.
Hot tub, here I come.