It's Adaptive Path's Sixth Anniversary!
It's that time of year again. Join us for our annual fiesta (yes, the taco truck will be back) on Friday, March 2. Bigger and better every year, the party will start at about 6:30 PM and wrap-up much, much later.
Mark March 2nd on your calendar and come and visit us at our San Francisco headquarters.
All are welcome. Please let us know you're planning on attending by RSVP-ing at Upcoming.
Map: http://maps.google.com/maps?oi=map&q=363+Brannan+Street,+San+Francisco,+CA
Us: http://adaptivepath.com
So... I'm doing a presentation for the Special Libraries Association tomorrow morning. It's a distance ed/WebEx type thing. I did the first part a few weeks ago and the last part is tomorrow.
The slides for the presentation were made in Keynote, on my Mac. The woman at SLA needs a PowerPoint file that she can upload to WebEx for the session. My presentation looks and functions beautifully on PowerPoint for the Mac. But when I send it to SLA she can't open it. When I open it on our office PC (in the PowerPoint Viewer I downloaded this morning since that machine doesn't have PowerPoint WTF???) it looks like total and complete ASS. The fonts are fucked up, images are missing, and the transistions are screwy.
Yes, this is my fault for not having finished this sooner instead of waiting until the last hour. But come on! It worked 2 weeks ago! I don't understand. *sigh*
Yesterday E and I had a fun, full day of wine tasting and resturant scouting with our friends M, K, and C, in preperation for M & K's wedding this fall. We all started telling stories on the drive back from the Russian River Valley. Many of the stories revovled around stupid things we did with our siblings (e.g., chasing each other with trash cans on our heads) or while at summer camp (e.g., setting the counceler's bunk ablaze with Off). It's been awhile since I laughed that hard. But my favorite story came from E.
He and C were at their mother's store, working. They had recently seen Howey Mandell do his stand-up schtick with the rubber glove on his head that he inflates. After playing with the rubber gloves on their heads for awhile, E decides to up the stakes. And proceeds to chase C around the store with a chef's knife, trying to pop the inflated glove which is on C's head. Then dad pulls up in the car. And for once, Dr. O was rendered speechless by his sons.
Upon hearing this story, all of us in the car are laughing, full-belly laughs. It was great. I don't know how C managed to keep the car driving straight. C proceeds to tell us that his IQ has decreased upon hearing these stories. And he knows he's going to have a dream of E chasing him with a chef's knife that night.
Well, ready for the wacky part? Of course last night I dreamed about E, his mom and a chef's knife. Luckily no rubber gloves were involved. Though I did manage to ruin the knife somehow, so it looked like someone had taken a bite out of it. Gotta be some symbolism in that one.
E and I had a very sweet, low-key Valentine's Day yesterday. We didn't do anything unusual. In fact, we were pretty stereotypical — he bought me chocolate and flowers and we went out to a fancy dinner at Millennium.
I'm actually quite alright with the chocolates, flowers, dinner thing. You see, no one has every gotten me chocolate and flowers for V-day before. It was kinda fun. And the food at Millennium was just fantastic, per usual.
We also got each other some other gifts. He got me a subscription to Cooks Illustrated and I got him a couple of cookbooks he's been eyeing. It was these gifts that really make me go all warm and mushy inside. We both got each other gifts related to cooking. Last year we both gave gifts related to the bedroom (things like sheets, you silly).
Without talking about it beforehand, without stating preferences, we are in synch. Our gifts complement each other. It freaks me out a bit sometimes just how much we share the same wavelength. But it's also pretty freakin' awsome. God I love this man.
E: "Hon, hon, wake up!"
Me: "Huh? Wha?"
E: "Do you know about the packers on the street?"
Me: "What? What packers?"
E: "You know, the packers. In the street. They go off every 3-4 hours."
Me: "The packers?"
E: "Yeah. The stampers. You know. ...pause... Do you have any idea what I'm talking about?"
Me: "No."
E: "*sigh* Sorry I woke you up."