In which I wish that was my family

enhanced-buzz-18681-1389804623-12A few random things:

  • I am, hopefully, at work right now preparing my students for their math test tomorrow.  I can imagine a couple of reasons why I might not be; there is another polar vortex heading our way and if it’s colder than we’re expecting or if the massive storm that’s supposed to hit a county over shifts to the east, it’s not inconceivable that school is going to be cancelled again.  Plus, the boy’s been a bit poorly all day today (Monday) and while I suspect he’ll be okay by tomorrow morning, you never know.
  • I know there are a bunch of writers of varying levels of professional status who read this blog; how many of you guys use Scrivener?  I know Taylor Grace has mentioned it; anybody else?  I’m doing most of my writing in Pages these days because iCloud lets me pick up whatever device is handy and work on the newest version without thinking about it, but Scrivener seems like it would be useful as a way to put together a sort of series bible for the Benevolence Archives– I’m already jumping between five documents whenever I write anything trying to keep stuff consistent, and I’d like some way to formalize that process.  Long story short, I have questions if you’re willing to provide answers.
  • I am offended that I have to have an opinion about sports; I’ve usually done my best to make sure to have no idea who is in the Super Bowl by now, but nonetheless:  lay the hell off Richard Sherman, Internet.  Newsflash: athletes are sometimes loud and sometimes they are not entirely polite, especially when they are requested to be interviewed six seconds after a career-changing play.  Get the hell off your damn high horses.
  • Probably starting another vegetarian week tomorrow at dinnertime.  Why dinnertime? There’s still chili left and I plan to finish it for lunch.  It’s time to go back into weight-losing mode for a bit, I think.
  • Spent a few minutes staring intently at the last wall I have to put cement board on a bit ago.  It does not make me happy.  I’m going to have to add some blocking to put the cement board up at the very least and I think I may very well have to redo some of the existing structure– which I didn’t have to do for either of the walls today, as big of a pain as they were.

Wheeeee!

Terrible decisions: holy crap I’m gonna die

IMG_1033I’m actually moderately more impressed by the destruction than the completed work.  Other than a couple of slightly dodgy joins– that wall on the left that you can’t see really well was a *bitch*– this actually went pretty well, if messy and somewhat longer than I expected, but I expected it to last longer than I expected, if that makes any sense.  I’m mostly posting this so you can see how effectively I’ve destroyed my bathroom, which I now have to get cleaned up before my son gets home and starts having to breathe concrete dust into his lungs.  I figure that might be bad.  This is actually the best picture of the work, because it’s so hard to get a good angle on that back wall, but you can see it in the mirror.

IMG_1032 Here you can get a look at the bad joins on the left side, there– I think they’ll be OK once I put some mortar into them. If not, I’ll just sell the house.  That wall turned out to be out of… plumb, I think?  There’s three joists over there and the third one in the middle is slightly bulgier than the other two, which gave me hell, and plus the tub itself is unlevel so even finding a good starting point was hell.  Plus that’s the wall I had to restructure so that I had something to attach the board to.  I’m lucky that the only problems are a couple of slight gaps.  I’m gonna have my father-in-law check my work before tiling, though.  And oh holy hell am I not looking forward to doing the wall with the faucet on it.

These last pictures are just so you can see my mess:

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And here’s the floor. Gotta go vacuum before the boy gets home.  Entertainingly, the vacuum itself requires vacuuming.

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Man, I’m looking forward to a shower.

Terrible decisions: not dumb yet

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One down, four to go.

Terrible decisions: the setbackening

p_SCP_074_02I knew this was going to happen, but it’s still disappointing:  the… rough-in valve, I think it’s called? (the plus-shaped thingy in the picture) for the new faucet and shower head does not appear to be terribly compatible with the one we have in place, so that all has to come out– and that is not, period, point-blank, no questions about it, work that I am capable of or interested in doing.  So we can’t cover that wall up until we get a plumber out here, and we can’t get a plumber out here until Friday.  So that somewhat limits the scale of the work we can get done today, but not in an unsatisfying way; it should still look like we got a crapton of work done by the end of the day if everything else goes well.

The new goal:  get the cement board up on the two walls that don’t conceal plumbing.  That’s all.  And by “up,” all I mean right now is measured, cut, and screwed into the studs; while I have the proper seam tape for the cement board, I’m not even sure I plan to do that today, since I’m still sorting out what seem to be conflicting opinions on whether the joins on the cement board actually need to be separately mortared, and if they do, if they’re mortared before or after applying the tape.  The dude at Lowe’s, who certainly sounded like he knew what he was doing, said that all we needed to do was tape the seams since we were tiling over it anyway and that we didn’t need to worry about joint compound; I’ve seen other sources that indicate that what we want to do is fill the seams, but what we want to use is the exact same mortar that we’ll use to install the tile.  I feel like this makes one step into two steps in a way that doesn’t feel necessary, but I’ve not done enough reading to be confident yet on anything other than “definitely don’t use regular joint compound,” which is fine, because we didn’t buy any.

I’m confident on the measure/cut/screw part, which also involves a tiny bit of restudding (just adding a couple of support points for the cement board in places that are weird) and setting up a j-channel around the tub that will keep the cement board from resting on the tub.  That should be enough for one day.  We have to go get the boy at 4:30; that leaves us seven hours.  Doable, I think.  We’ll see.

There will be pictures later, of course, as I either fix things or destroy them.  Or the world will be enveloped in flame.  It’s a crapshoot!

Terrible Decisions: the repurchasing

unnamedHere’s what you’re looking at:

  • Six pieces of 5′ x 3′ Durock cement board;
  • 3 1/2 gallons of Redgard;
  • Our new showerhead/faucet combo;
  • A six foot metal ruler that I plan to use as a straightedge (and, dammit, is too wide for the back of the shower, but it’ll still help to trim the Durock)
  • Three clean 5-gallon buckets;
  • A variety of painting implements and sponges and grouting tools and a notched trowel and an X-Acto knife and a few other things inside the buckets

Off-camera:

  • hundred goddamn pounds, which seems crazily excessive now that I think about it but the guy insisted was the right amount for our square footage, of dry mortar;
  • 25 pounds of grout;
  • An 8-foot wall stud that I need to cut to a three-foot length to give me something to attach the cement board to in a weird part of the wall;
  • 20 feet of J-channel to set the cement board into on the tub;
  • Dual-sided sixteenth-inch tape to attach the J-channel to the tub;
  • Several hundred screws;
  • Several hundred spacers;
  • Mesh tape for the cement board;
  • Respirator masks, because I hear Redgard is nasty-smelling shit;
  • A caulk tube

Shit we forgot to buy:

  • A handful of wood screws to attach the aforementioned 2 x 4; we probably have some suitable ones in a drawer in the garage somewhere, though;
  • A caulk gun;
  • Some regular blue painter’s tape to tape tiles to each other while they’re setting;
  • Some other damn thing I can’t remember right now but hopefully either I or the wife will by the early-morning Lowe’s run tomorrow morning.

And we didn’t buy this today but:

  • You can see the side of our new vanity, which we had to take out of the box because we used the box for broken drywall and tile when we did the demolition;
  • Our new toilet (still in the box)
  • And a bunch of other shit that has nothing to do with the bathroom reno but is still piled up in that corner.

We’re out, like, $525 or something.  And I am so gonna completely fuck up putting the walls up tomorrow.  Be prepared for me to burn the house down and blame it on a spider or something.

 

 

In which I wasn’t mad until you apologized

target-data-breachI haven’t talked much about the Great Target Data Breachenationing of 2013, mostly because, honestly, I haven’t been terribly concerned about it– I was one of the ones theoretically affected, because there’s a Target basically in my back yard and I shop there all the time, but I also generally keep a really close eye on my bank account and so I would have noticed any suspicious charges basically immediately. I feel like for the most part Target has behaved as a relatively responsible corporate citizen while all this has been going on, my bank hasn’t made the decision to fuck me unduly like some other banks did; no big deal, right?

I got an email from Target a few days ago; so did my wife and so did, very likely, a whole lot of you, offering me a free year of credit monitoring as a way to make amends.  I’d love to know how much coin Target had to shell out to make this happen or if Experian is just figuring they can make it up on the back end by convincing a shitton of new customers to keep going after that year is up.  I don’t currently have any kind of credit monitoring turned on, although I have in the past, and I’m considering taking them up on their offer. The email is, generally, very apologetic about the whole affair, and it appears that they’ve located a seventeen-year-old (of course it was a teenager) in St. Petersburg who wrote the malware that made the hack possible.

It didn’t hit me until yesterday that, at least for me personally, there’s sort of a big question hanging over my head about the whole thing, and that question didn’t come to light until I got that email:

How the hell did Target get my email address?

I have never ordered anything from Target.com.  Target doesn’t ask for emails as a part of doing business.  I have– and I checked, and since I use gmail my email archive goes back to forever— never received any emails from them before.  I don’t have a Target credit card, and never have, and certainly didn’t in December when the breach happened.  We had a wedding registry with them six years ago, but that was with my wife’s email; mine wasn’t on it.

I can think of one way and one way only that they might have it, which is that I applied for a Target field trip grant for the DC trip this year– but that wasn’t attached to any bank or debit card information, and the address and phone number I provided them was my school address and phone number, so even if they’re cross-matching databases the address and phone number wouldn’t match what they (might?) have through my debit card.  They could, maybe, have done a match with my name and town and made an assumption– but that itself assumes that they’re willing to have a pretty fair number of false positives, and also that they’re working their asses off to collect and consolidate customer data that they have, in turn, then never used until this data breach.  If they got it from my bank, I kinda feel like my bank ought to have told me that, and they didn’t.

I find myself more curious about how they got my email than I am about how the hack was able to happen.  I don’t know if that indicates skewed priorities on my part or not.  And maybe if you’re going to send a giant email to millions of people about how your data collection process got screwed up and compromised, you include a line somewhere about how you got the information that allowed you to contact them in the first place.

Edited to add…

Interesting follow-up to the math post here.  Stay tuned for a few more minutes; there’s another chunk of the Benevolence Archives coming.  All violence from here on out!

On math and feminism and societies

Feeling a little grab-baggish today.  First things first, watch this.  Shut up and do it, dammit, it’s Saturday and you can spare eight bloody minutes:

You didn’t watch it, did you?  Jerk.  Fine, I’ll sum up:  the fella in the video is a British physicist, and he demonstrates a couple of interesting properties of infinite series: first, that the sum of 1 -1 +1 -1 +1… out into infinity is actually one half.  Then, to further screw with our brains, he demonstrates that the sum of the series 1 + 2 + 3 + 4 + 5… is negative one twelfth.  Which is completely absurd, but the demonstration he works through is elegant and relatively simple even for non-mathematicians (which, for the record, is a category I’m including myself in) so long as they have some recollection of how algebra works.

I came across this here, at Phil Plait’s awesome Bad Astronomy blog.  The article touched off a bit of a shitstorm in the comments and elsewhere on the Interwubs for what is probably a perfectly obvious reason; it doesn’t make a speck of logical sense.  The math concepts being applied are apparently actually useful in string theory.  The problem, of course, is that most of the people involved in the argument don’t have the faintest goddamn idea what they’re talking about– which, surely, is the first time something like that has ever happened on the Internet.  This makes the argument not terribly enlightening.

Me, I’m inclined to trust the experts– while I agree that neither answer makes a drop of intuitive sense, I’m also sympathetic to the counter-argument that infinity itself doesn’t actually make a drop of sense to our non-infinite brains and that therefore “this doesn’t make sense” isn’t actually a valid knock against the math.  In fact, if I’m being honest, I find that argument fascinating.(*)  The guy in the video also points out that you’re right that if you stop at any point along the sequence, yes, you’re going to get a certain number, either 1 or 0 in the first instance and something really big in the second– but that if you extend the series to infinity, a concept that doesn’t rightly fit in our brains, you get these wonderfully unexpected results.  It’s cool.  And he’s kind of adorable.  So go do what I said and watch the video, because I know you didn’t watch it the first time.

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Complete change of subject: I need a feminist, or at least someone with a bigger vocabulary than me, to ‘splain me something, and to do it out of the goodness of her or his heart, because I’m perfectly aware I can research this myself but I’d rather ask the Internet for some reason:  is there a specific term for a society that is patriarchal in practice but not by law, other than “de facto patriarchy”?  Like, a single term?  The example I’m thinking of is America, obviously, where there are no longer any laws preventing women from, say, high office, or corporate boards, or other offices of high power that are currently occupied either nearly exclusively or literally exclusively by men, but that nonetheless all or nearly all of those offices are occupied by men.

To phrase it differently, I’m looking for a term or set of terms that distinguishes what I’ll call for the sake of argument a “hard” patriarchy– where women are literally not allowed access to positions of power via specific religious or legally enforceable and punishable prohibitions, from a “soft” patriarchy where the barrier is culture and not law.  Note that in a practical sense the effects can be exactly the same, which is why “de facto” and “de jure” would work if they weren’t phrases and not individual terms.

And maybe also you can see why I’m not trying to stuff this into a Google search, too.  🙂  Anybody got anything for me?

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(*) We’re gonna leave my inconsistency re: theology there aside, although now that I’ve noticed it I may think about it harder later.