Every year I swear I’m going to get them done as early as possible, but once again, the tax deadline looms large and I’m frantically filling out forms…
Month: April 2005
The Need For Speed
When I’m recording movies with MythTV, one of the things I have to watch out for is that the bitrate is appropriate. A higher bitrate means better quality, but if it’s too high, it takes up too much space and might not even fit on a DVD. You need a balance, but sometimes it’s not so easy to get.
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Up, Up, And Away
Mail Delivery
I know it was windy yesterday, but…
(More likely due to some drunken SAIT students…)
Battle-Weary? Need Refreshment?
See what happens when advertisers invade video games.
The tradeoff is that you can play for free because of it, at least…
I Think I’m Going Nuts
There’s still some construction work and last-minute repairs going on around the new office, and sometimes they’re hard to ignore…
There’s a high-pitched whistling sound coming through the air conditioning vents in the areas around my office. It might not be so bad if it was a constant tone as it would then just blend into the rest of the background noise, but it wavers slightly in frequency, constantly drawing attention to itself. And, apparently my hearing is better than I thought it was, as I’ve been having difficulty convincing others that it even exists. It’s plain as day to me, but I had to drag the boss into one of the rooms where it was the loudest before he could notice it. Supposedly it should get fixed when they rebalance the air flow, but they can’t do that until they fix a broken air conditioning unit, and who knows when they’re going to get around to that…
They’ve also finally placed the glass partitions by the door frames and sealed them with silicone. Unfortunately, that means the whole office now smells like silicone fumes. Plus, my door frame is apparently slightly crooked, so they’ve placed a brace there to force it open a bit wider while the silicone sets. And by ‘brace’ I mean a chunk of wood stretched across the middle of the door frame so that I have to duck underneath it every time I leave or come back.
To my smelly office. Where my brain gets stabbed with a high-pitched knife.
Finally
(and no, I don’t live in the vacuum of space, the flash reflection just overpowered the rest of the room.)
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