u're not my pal, paypal

I was going through a PayPal transaction the other day, mentally preparing myself for some kind of a disappointment. It has long seemed to me that PayPal and eBay were created by two warring siblings that have been forced by their parents to collaborate – but secretly hated each other’s guts. So, any time PayPal’s interaction scheme takes me down a mineshaft, I make sure to let my buddy at eBay know all about it.

This time, though, I was pleasantly surprised. I needed to add a credit card number, and found that the entry form was designed in a very sleek way: accepted credit cards were listed below the card number textbox; as I typed in my number, the other options faded away, indicating that the system knew I was using an AmEx card.

For the first time ever, I was ready to give kudos to PayPal’s designers – I even logged back in to take a screenshot. Guess what – this time, I wasn’t going through a transaction, so the form looked completely different – even though purpose of it was exactly the same.

I still hate you, PayPal.

in the gutter

As Ice Cube once put it, today was a good day. Yesterday wasn't all that bad either.

Of course, the only dealing I took part in was borrowing a ladder from the neighbor, and the onle hoe I saw was of the garden kind. But, things are different in this 'hood. After a week of rain, the skies cleared up, and everyone on the street went to work. My weekend project - putting up a gutter... and man, was that needed!

The lack of said gutter lead to a chain of unfortunate events. Water cascaded down the siding, collecting on the AC unit, and causing the wall to rot. Squirrels then burrowed their way in through the soft wood, and the rest is history.

But, no more! The gutter looks great - even got the leaf guard on there. Of course, I still have to take out that AC, fix the insulation and the siding, but that's small change... Pimpin' indeed.

family affair

My family is very small – miniscule, by any standard. On this side of the pond, I just have my parents and my brother; back in Russia, my grandma lives in the two-bedroom apartment that we all once shared, and my two cousins (one of whom has a daughter) share another, smaller apartment a few miles away.

As a result of having a family tree that doesn’t branch, we are completely unfamiliar with the baggage that comes with being a part of a large family. Our friends and coworkers tell us of conflicts between in-laws, and of cousins that they don’t speak to any more. Surely, there must be some benefits, too, that come with being a part of a large clan. Heather, my brother’s girlfriend, regularly takes him to family weddings. Eugene still hasn’t reciprocated.

The Drozdetskis are completely unprepared to deal with family disagreements – to the point that my mom had to sit down with my dad and me to discuss a sticky situation, and none of us knew how to approach it. You see, when my grandpa passed away, my mom offered to bring my grandma to the US. In the discussions that followed, my mom explained that she’d have no problem being the caretaker, but the one part that they’d have to work out is the healthcare question – it’s not exactly cheap for seniors here. That’s when my mom found out that my grandma intended to leave her only marketable possession, her apartment, to my cousins.

My mom was a little taken back, not necessarily by grandma’s decision, but by the fact that she thought it was a natural choice. It seems to be a universal theme in immigrant families – members left behind automatically assume that the people that made it across the border are rewarded with cars and houses that come for free. On the surface, our standard of living is indeed better. But, on the other hand, most of what we have is bought on credit, and my parents know that they’ll have to keep busting their humps for a looong time, probably well into retirement age.

A little story illustrates this disconnect. My mom has never bought a watch for more than $10 – it’s just not worth it for her to spend more on something that can break or get lost so easily. But, when she visited Russia, one of her friends thought that her watch was worth $20K, and for some reason mentioned it to my grandma - who took it completely in stride. When mom heard about this, she was bewildered, and asked, “How did you even think that was a possibility?” My grandma, completely unfazed, answered “Oh, I just thought you liked it.” It didn’t occur to her that my mom, who’s currently working two jobs, would never even think of spending twenty grand on a watch – and if she did, my dad would probably have a heart attack on the spot.

So, we’ve got a misunderstanding, some hurt feelings – and a complete lack of experience dealing with either.

unemployment? what unemployment?

UPA, probably the most active UCD group in the Boston area, has sent out 19 job postings from various companies today. Hmmm... tempting.

fun @ work

As most everyone agrees, the portal software that we’re using is a heavy beast – hard to work with, and slow on the end-user side. So, one of the managers had a great (in principle) idea to have a separate version of the page: less functionality – just the essentials – but quick to load.

The usual game of “add a feature, lose a feature” then started between the managers. At one time or another, the “lightweight homepage” has oscillated between a mobile page, a static HTML chunk, and a substitute for an existing disaster recovery page. When the managers came to me for input, I outlined the essential intranet functions that we’ve identified in our previous studies, but said that I need high-level information about the platform before I can flesh out the design – you know, easy stuff, like whether or not this thing would be customizable.

Making decisions that could be traced back to you is not something that smart managers do, so the committee found another designer on my team who didn’t raise as many questions – and who proceeded to struggle mightily against the lack of definition. Finally, the edict came from above: separate the mobile part out into a separate project.

The game of hot potato continued with renewed vigor, to the point that my manager pulled the other designer off the project, as her time was being wasted. Finally, a prototype emerged – and, since so many people were out on vacation, the developer asked me to be the official tester for the release.

Usually, testing involves logging and trying out all the functions as a final sanity check. So, in I go, to be greeted by a blue banner with the application name, a line of text promising a link to the mobile version of our time reporting system, and an email link in the footer. That’s it.

Thinking that I was missing something, I checked with the developer. Even though we were on IM, I could almost hear a deep sigh. No, that was all that made it.

On the bright side, the page is about as lightweight as it gets...

me fail english?

As another indication that my intellect is taking a beating at work, I spent five minutes this morning trying to remember how to suggest that one should be careful. First, I wrote "I'd be wary", but that didn't look right - and "vary" definitely looked wrong. "Weary" is clearly a word, but didn't seem to fit semantically. It took some googling to determine that my original version was correct.

Who needs memory/grammar/basic language skills if you have Google, right?

changing for the better?

I’ve been biking to work almost every day this summer, and loved every minute of it. Somehow, I managed to dodge all the rainstorms (Susan, however, wasn’t so lucky, and got caught in a torrential downpour the first time she biked). I feel better, my car is not getting worn down by the short trips (actually, driving is not currently an option, but that’s beside the point), and my already fit midsection is getting even slimmer… then again, that’s a bit of a problem as well, ‘cause all my shorts are developing a tendency to slip off... very inconvenient... and I’m not nearly old enough to wear a belt yet.

Anyhoo, today quite an extraordinary thing happened. I’m usually the lone biker on the road that I take, save for an occasional spandex-clad dude that whizzes by. But, as far as commuting goes, nobody seems to realize that their legs can do more than step on the accelerator pedal. But, today I passed an average-Joe-looking guy, clearly on his way to work. Actually, more like an average-Jose, but the point is the same – people are waking up, slowly but surely. I love reading the news about falling sales of SUVs and reductions in flight routes. Heck, double the price of gas! Triple it! Tax the hell out of it! It’s all for the better.

Yet, not everyone is getting the message. While I was in DC, a woman noticed that I had my luggage with me in the Metro, and struck up a conversation with me, as she was heading to the airport. When I asked her where she was heading, she proudly declared, “I’m bicoastal – I have homes in DC and San Fran, and shuttle back and forth every week.” Hopefully, the shock on my face has communicated what I thought about her statement. Just to think, all the cutbacks that I’m making in a year are probably not enough to offset the damage she causes in a span of a week...

So yeah, bring on that $10 gas!

fashionable start

Susan has started her new job at Nordstrom, which is great for her as she’s finally in the career field that she cares about – unlike, say, government contracts. As an additional bonus, she only has to commute about 2 miles – about the same distance as me – so we can both snicker at the people who drive an hour each way. Nordstrom just built a huge ultra-fancy on an already upscale Burlington Mall, and apparently their investment paid off: the place was mobbed on opening day.

Her employee discount is one of the perks that comes with the job... too bad it’s not something I can take advantage of. If I do find myself in the need of new clothes (which doesn’t happen often), Nordstrom is not really at the top of my shopping list.

we have ignition

In large part due to Jeremy's help, the engine is back in the car. There are still issues with grounding, the radiator is empty, the slave clutch piston is in pieces and the exhaust is not hooked up... but we managed to get the car started.

That felt really, really good.