| Misc |
[Dec. 23rd, 2007|01:31 pm] |
I've been in Moscow for the past week for this Google Code Day [video], giving a talk on social graph / interop stuff ("Открытие Социального Графа"). It was a public talk, so I should be able to post the slides, but I'll wait and confirm before I do.
Went to SUP's holiday party too. [some pics] But I guess those pics don't really highlight the ridiculousness of the venue. All the nightclubs here are pretty extravagantly ridiculous. But there was no George Clooney or Gwenth Paltrow in a cage. (love that article: you don't often see the phrase, "We OWN you, bitches!" in a printed newspaper with your breakfast, hotel restaurant windows looking out to St. Basil's in the Kremlin...)
I just got a call from the hotel receptionist saying that my driver was here. My driver? What? Oh, my flight was originally today, so probably my return taxi to the airport, but I'm returning now instead on Tuesday (yes, flying all day xmas). But even so, a driver at 13:30 would be way too late to get to the airport. I ask the receptionist to point him out or describe him. She's flustered, trying to explain that he's black. (Black people are incredibly rare here.) Went out, found him, and after a confusing conversation, turns out that not only was he going to the wrong airport (Domodedovo, not Sheremetyevo), but he was supposed to be driving Boy George, not me. Wtf? I can only imagine the confusion at the receptionist's desk that she called me down to "my driver" instead of Boy George.
Anyway, Moscow is great, as always. I love this city. One warning, though: when a relatively large Russian guy with the nickname "Wolf" wants to drink whiskey with you, politely decline.
Speaking of wolves, apparently a wolf boy is loose in Moscow. Wtf.
Newly discovered funny blog from article above: Moscow Doesn't Believe in Tears.
Unrelated misc links:
- 2007 OpenID wrapup
- Who mattered in 2007 -- apparently I matter, and I'm an introvert. Several of my friends matter too. Love the insular valley. Reminds me of the directed graph I saw recently with two nodes labeled "Blog" with two edges pointing at each other. Yay! :)
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| almost home, car crash |
[Dec. 8th, 2006|08:02 pm] |
in taxi now going home from SFO. And the driver just spun out going around exit ramps, spun car, and went head-on into gaurd rail at 20 mph, deploying his airbag and totally fucking up the front of the taxi. I saw it coming so was able to brace myself.
.. Yet he's continuing to drive me home. Airbag in his lap. Wtf?
Home sweet home. |
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| punked: brad as grazia / dolce gabbana supermodel |
[Dec. 6th, 2006|06:52 am] |
I just got punked.
I'm waiting for the actual punking, but I know it's coming. (In March, actually.... more on that later.)
So I'm sitting and merging requirements documents and hacking like a good little monkey when ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) nl hands me a cordless phone. "Reporter", he says.
"Can we come over tomorrow and ask you a few questions and take a couple pictures?" (emphasis mine :)) Oh yeah, something also about that she works for Grazia, but I figure it's some Russian thing I don't know, rather than some UK girl thing I don't know, so I ignore it. I would've googled it but I wouldn't have known how to spell it from the phoentics on the phone.
So I say, "Sure, why not?" I figure this trip hasn't been as bad as the last one in terms of reporters, so I'll spare a few minutes. (Few minutes... hah.)
I later learn it'll be an hour or so. Wtf, why? I go out for the evening and forget about it.
I get a call from SUP employee (and ever-gracious host while in Russia) shaltai_boltai asking me for my clothing sizes... shoes, shirt, jacket, pants. Wtf? I don't know my metric sizes. I do the math later and tell her. Wtf?
So today I'm a little suspicious as noon approaches. And sure enough, they come with a full photography studio and like 5 people doing different things... lighting, clothing, makeup, hair, (oh yes, the 5 minute interview), creative director maybe... and somebody else? No clue. Ton of people to take some pictures and try their hardest to make me pretty.
And then I see the Dolce Gabanna receipt... they went and bought like $1,000 of clothes. One item alone was like 10,000 RUB (~$400). Wtf? (at least they're returning it all, photoshopping out the tags... heh)
I changed outfits like 3 times, had makeup done, had hair done multiple times... WTF.
So I guess it's some Italian/UK chick magazine that's starting in Russia next year and I was totally tricked into it. You should've seen these ridiculous clothes. Well, hell, I'm sure you'll see it when it hits the Internet. Because I know some punk is gonna scan it and post it online. Damn Internet. :P
Pretty embarassing, standing on a table in front of all the programmers, losing any technical credibility by the second. I told the CTO, Sergei, to send out an email to his team in Russian saying that I'd rather be hacking and this was totally jacked up. Between laughing and going bright red (with the others from the balcony), I think he agreed to, but I don't think he did. The programmers were taking pictures from their camera phones and giggling.... maybe that'll go online soon for a pre-March punking.
Seriously, this clothes .... wow.
So, uh, my punking is in March or something in Russia when somebody buys this magazine and scans it. |
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| stock images considered harmful |
[Nov. 19th, 2006|01:11 pm] |
Uhhh... what?
I don't get it.
If this wasn't for a hotel reservation website and was instead a baby formula website, maybe it'd make sense? |
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| Lisa Makinson on board..... on our honeymoon. |
[Jul. 22nd, 2006|03:27 pm] |
So Dina and I get on the boat, explore a bit, and go to buy lost toileteries when who walks by the shop other than Lisa motherfuckin' Makinson. Wtf?
"Dina, does Lisa Makinson work for Royal Caribbean?"
"I dunno, she could. Why? Did you see her? Was she dressed like she works here?"
"Yes. She's carrying a microphone."
Couple seconds later and:
"Hiiiiiiiiiii Welcome shopping shopping shopping I'm Lisa your shopping cruise director!"
Yes, so Lisa is the shopping director on the cruise. She has her own TV station where she talks about shopping at different ports of call.
She's wearing a nametag saying she's from Spain because she can speak Spanish. Traitor. Update: okay, that's not the "country I'm from" logo, it's the langauges-I-can-speak logo(s). English doesn't get a flag icon, as that's default.
P.S. If you're confused, Lisa from our high-school, middle-school, my elementary school. I had a crush on her when I was like in 2nd grade. She went on to modelling and is now a shopping director.
Did I mention wtf? |
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