Grand Design

To answer the Maven's question about where I was yesterday: The software company I work for has an uncommonly short release cycle. We only have eight weeks of development to put out a new version. Since my product is fairly in demand, this means I write a lot of designs at pretty frequent pace.

This work is subject to phases, which are magnified by the compressed release cycle.

Phase I: I just finished the designs for the current update and it's time to start thinking about the next update but I'm not quite ready yet. I hover between two updates and poke at a few things but it's hard to drop the topics that have claimed my attention for the last eight weeks and get started. I tend to be a little bit depressed and out of sorts during this phase, unconnected and drifting. Maybe even a little bit burned out. The clock is ticking and I'm not in the mood. I'd rather write articles and fold laundry. Fortunately, this phase tends to be short.

Phase II: I've started the designs for the next update but there are some questions from development and other groups around the current update so my attention is divided. I force myself to make steady progress but haven't really hit my stride yet. I don't yet have a stake in the current design beyond the obvious one that someone pays me to work on it. This is a restless, slightly irritable phase but reasonably productive.

Phase III: Something clicks and suddenly the design owns me. Maybe it's something someone said, or maybe the design has just reached a critical mass, but the different design threads pull at me all the time, insisting that I resolve them into a cohesive pattern. It's not enough to just design a business process, you have to be the person using it and know - really know - what they will do and what mistakes they are likely to make and your design has to help them not make these mistakes. Expertise is important but will only take you so far - you also need empathy. Empathy makes me grumpy and hungry so I'm more likely to butt heads with anyone who questions my design and eat cookies during this phase. When I'm in the throes of design I may not post anything for several days at a time because most of my creative energy is channeled into this relentless chattering monkey on my back.

Phase IV: I'm 95-98% done. I've crossed some sort of design threshhold where the pattern has integrity and holds together but that last 2-5% still needs to be done. It's usually pretty boring. Around this time the current release is ready for testing and that's boring, too, because computers take so long to catch up with thoughts, but also satisfying because this is where a design comes to life. This last phase usually only requires a small part of my attention so my mind starts focusing on other topics again. Unless I feel that the overall design is threatened, the snarling diva within keeps her head down and I am ready to make compromises like a rational adult.

So, generally speaking, when I don't post I either have nothing to say (on those rare days when the Germans don't do anything weird or funny at all) or I'm in Phase III.

On Concerts and Original Sin

Ralf has been home since Thursday and Thursday night we went to a concert. It was fun although the hall was totally packed and at 5’8’’ I’m one of the shortest people in Germany. I occasionally meet someone shorter than me but they always turn out to be half French. Mind you, being short was a huge advantage on the German dating scene before I got married but kind of a bummer at a standing concert. So I didn’t see much peering out from behind everyone’s elbows and the guy right in front of me was unfortunately wearing a wool sweater and smelled like a moist sheep but the sound was good.

Domestically Disabled Girl recently posted about trying to figure out meaning and God’s plan for us. It was a good, honest post and some of the comments are worth reading as well, especially mine.

My take on God’s plan and free will for those of you who may be interested:

The chaotic, impermanent nature of the universe ensures that things will happen to us, some good, some bad. We may be able to influence some of these things but we don’t control the changing nature of the universe and we can’t see into the future so the best we can hope for is to delay the inevitable.

Free will comes into play when we decide how we will respond to things that happen. For example:

When bad things happen, will we grow, evolve and become better people or will we retreat into bitterness, fear and regret?

When good things happen will we become more vain, cocky and clingy or will we filled with humble wonder and gratitude that something like this could happen to us and want to share our good fortune?

That, my friends, is what we control. Nothing else.

Unfortunately there’s a catch – the cards are stacked against us. The human mind has limited perception and craves material things. And not only that, we are also programmed to seek stability and permanence in an unstable and impermanent universe. In other words, our neural wiring makes us dissatisfied and suspicious of what's around the corner.

(Bit of a crap design, really. Kind of like Blackberries: Your goal is to make a call but we’re going to make it really, really hard for you.)

I believe our work here is to try to rise above our humble beginnings and (remember, I design software) exceed the parameters of our design. Not that I'm working very hard on this in my own case but I do keep making mental notes to get started.

Now here's the interesting bit: there has never been anyone who has not committed at least one of the seven deadly sins (you know, greed, lust, something, something, envy, gluttony, something) because having a needy physical form combined with a primitive, unruly brain doesn't give you any choice. So in a way, just having a physical form is a sin.

Which could mean that Adam, not Eve, carried the original sin because he had the first human form.

Heady stuff, huh? Maybe they’ll let women be priests now.

Anyway.

To borrow an idea from the late great Isaac Asimov, I sometimes picture a scientist watching a petri dish to see if mankind is one of those parasites that thoughtlessly destroys its host and itself in the bargain or else can turn into one of those good bacteria that help the entire organism.

We are the means by which the universe seeks consciousness. And if we fail I believe that God will be bummed, like any creator whose experiment failed, but will not queer the experiment by influencing the outcome.

Thanks for all the great advice. We will definitely be signing K up for Ethics next year. With me as her homework buddy she'd probably fail religious studies.

The plot thickens...

If you haven't been following the story so far I recommend reading the previous two posts.

Plot summary: We have to pick a religious track for K's school next year. The hitch is that she gets to pick 2 friends to stay with and they have to be either Catholic or Athiest/other because the Protestants will be in a different class. We will probably sign her up for Ethics class rather than Catholic or Protestant studies but it's not so simple. . .

A final note: I've been using the word 'Athiest' but the better word choice would probably be 'Other' since that's the choice offered to anyone who is not Catholic or Protestant.

Now that that's cleared up, the plot thickens. If we were all just a little prettier and sluttier this could be an episode of Desperate Housewives. . .

I got TWO more calls yesterday.

The first was from Tina's mom. Remember Tina the Athiest? Well, it turns out not so much.

At first I thought she wanted to lock in the K, Celia and Tina trio for the Ethics track but no - she was calling to let me know that Tina really wants to be with Celia but not K. Little Tina prefers another little girl who is Protestant so Tina's mom is also considering Protestant studies.

It suddenly occurred to me: OMG, she's warning me off!!

I heard her out and refrained from mentioning that Celia's mom had called me and no mention had been made of the formerly athiest Tina.

Later Leia's mom called. You may recall Leia as the Protestant girl whose religious affiliation has been causing all the trouble (unless, or course, you take the viewpoint that we are causing it with our heathen ways).

I found Leia's mom extremely pleasant and felt sad that we might have to separate K from Leia. They aren't very religious, either, but after much discussion thought Protestant studies would be a rounding experience for Leia. The hitch is that Leia really, really wants to be with K and the feeling is mutual.

Anyway, Leia's mom was torn by the idea of ethics v. Protestant studies. Leia's dad was less torn - in the background I could hear him yelling, 'My God, just sign her up for ethics and be done with it!'

I still want K to do Ethics, mainly because I'll have to help her with homework and I don't think I'm up to explaining the Bible. The question is, can we persuade Leia's parents to join with us?

And is it ethical to do so?

Spiritual and social fates may hang in the balance. . .

What will we do?

What indeed?

Yesterday we learned that German school kids are separated by religion. And not the interesting religions, either. You have to choose between Catholic (yawn), Protestant (really just watered-down Catholics) and Athiest.

Actually, the Athiest kids get to study ethics, which sounds kind of cool.

The kids aren't totally segregated - basically, there are two groups of Catholic kids that share learning space with either Athiests or Protestants, which we can either regard as a practical recognition that most kids happen to be Catholic or as a Catholic infiltration (since the Athiests and Protestants rarely come into contact with each other).

Supposedly in urban areas with a higher concentration of other religions they offer additional classes. Just not out here in the Catholic burbs.

What will we do? you ask.

Ralf and I discussed it during his brief stopover home between California and Ireland.

First of all, he thinks religious studies are cool and we should all be more informed about different religions because this is such an important topic for so many people.

Fair point.

And who knows, maybe if more people treated religion like an academic topic rather than a purely spiritual one, they would be less likely to elect socially intolerant fiscally irresponsible environment ravaging Republican war mongers just because the church likes their stance on gay marriage.

(I know, it's hard to get a sense of how I feel about things.)

Next I pointed out that there aren't many hours in the absurdly short German school day and I'd prefer our kids to spend that time on reading, writing, math and science and he said why don't I run for Minister of Education.

I'm pretty sure that was sarcasm, which is part of the German marital benefits package.

But then, when I broached the topic of possibly enrolling K in Protestant studies to be with Leia, he got all huffy, like putting kids into religious groups at school was my crazy idea.

Ralf (bristling with indignation): 'Are you kidding me? We're not signing K up for some religion we have nothing to do with just so she can be with some kid she probably won't even like next year!'

No argument from me. I mean, OK, I did make some snarky comments about how I'm not the German here but we were basically in agreement by this point.

Anyway, the upshot is that we'll be going with Ethical (Athiest) studies next year and it remains to be seen if Celia's Catholic mom will throw her lot in with Leia (who is Protestant) or with us.

And Tina the Athiest.

Choosing my religion

The phone rings. It’s Celia’s mom – Celia’s a 5-year-old girl in K’s class.

She wants to know what religion I plan to select on K’s school registration.


Me: ‘Excuse me?’

Celia’s mom: ‘Well, you know that when you register for school each child can choose to be in the same class with 2 other kids but they split up the kids based on religion.’

I did not know this.

Me: ‘Excuse me?’

Celia’s mom (patiently - she's quite nice, really): ‘They split the kids up based on whether they’re Catholic, Protestant or Aethiest.’

Me: ‘Excuse me?’

Celia’s mom (after a pause): ‘Would you prefer to speak English?’

Me: ‘No, you just surprised me.' And this conversation would be even weirder in English. 'Er. . . did you just say that the kids are split up into religious groups? In school?’

Celia’s mom: ‘Yes.' I can sense her nodding over the phone. 'Most of the kids are Catholic so there’s one group of Catholics and Protestants and one with Catholics and Athiests.’

A little background on this: Although German grade school is typically over by lunchtime, which creates enormous problems for working parents, they spend an hour of this precious time on religious studies.

Celia’s mom: ‘Anyway, Celia wants to be with K and Leia but Leia’s Protestant.’

I’m briefly tempted to say we’re Jewish or Muslim but control myself. Shut up, you're not funny, I tell myself sternly.

Me: ‘We're probably Aethiest. We don’t really go to church. I think my husband might be Protestant, though. I’ll ask him when he gets back.’

Celia’s mom: ‘Or we could go with Tina. She's also Athiest.’

I try to picture the athiest Tina.

Me: ‘Um. . . yeah. Sure. Tina would be good.’

Celia’s mom: ‘Let’s touch base over the weekend.’

Me: ‘Absolutely. Let’s do that.’

Follow up on various items

First of all, thank you Lawyer Mom for the Kreative Blogger award. However, instead of nominating other blogs (since I recently did two rounds of nominations) I recommend you check out the people who follow this blog. They all have great blogs of their own, not to mention excellent taste.

I'll write about things I love in a separate post (such as Republican bashing, so fun now that it's not a threat to national security any more) because I want to close the loop on a few open items today:

1) My mouth - All better now. The dental surgeon was very pleased when he removed the stiches and patted me on the shoulder because I did such a good job healing. He also said there was no sign of necrosis, a possibility I am glad he kept to himself until after the procedure. The roof of my mouth is still a bit numb but that's normal. So if anyone ever wants to know about gum grafts and the Maven for some reason isn't available, I'm your girl.

2) K's promise to sleep in - She did keep her promise but since then L's been getting up with me every morning so my days have been off to an earlier than usual start. I'm not complaining, however, because they've been really good this week while Ralf's been away.

3) Ralf - He's coming back tonight but then flying to Ireland for two more days tomorrow morning. Then we're all done with travel for a while.

4) My US residence and tax status - Technically we are no longer California residents although we left a lot of our money in California to tide them over thanks to AMT. We will also be paying 2008 taxes in the US and California since we didn't move back to Munich until September. Sadly, California does not yet (to my knowledge) have a tax treaty with Germany so there will be some double taxation as well.

Therefore I still reserve the right to rant as a California tax payer.

Oh, and I paid California property tax on a house until 2002 and income tax when I sold the house.

Anyway, I think I've paid back my modest childhood medical expenses by now, with interest. But regardless of my situation, which is somewhat unusual, a forward-thinking country invests in its children. A country that is run by people who think it's OK to get huge bonuses for poor results doesn't.

Where I stand

When I started school my mother was divorced and unemployed, although she received some financial support from my grandfather. Her unemployed status entitled me to various school subsidies, such as a hot lunch, and other types of subsidies as well, including health care.

Although I was not a sickly or accident-prone child, I had a dust allergy and the state paid for a vaporizer for my bedroom and weekly shots in my backside. Today I am allergy free.

I also had a slightly crossed left eye, which was corrected surgically. Today I can cross my left eye as a party trick, but can also stop crossing it.

I was flatfooted and the state put me in corrective shoes. Today my feet are still pretty flat but my knees and back are in better shape than Ralf's.

As I recall, vaccinations were also given in grade school, free of charge.

And finally, I lisped until I was about 10 and the state of California paid for a speech therapist to work with me until I stopped. You can still hear it today if you listen for it but it's tolerable.

Then I went to a fabulously expensive boarding school for seven years, care of my grandfather, but that's not really germane to the point I'm trying to make here.

When it was time for college, Grandpa said I was on my own but the killer combination of poor and valedictorian qualified me for several tuition and board scholarships.

Same deal in graduate school, although by that time need-based scholarships were pretty thin on the ground.

Today I'm a healthy law-abiding middle-class tax payer. Real salt of the earth.

My grandfather's support probably launched me into a higher income bracket. But it was the state that made sure I didn't catch polio or tetanus and corrected potentially disfiguring problems that my mother might not have found out about in time if not for active state subsidized pediatric care. Although she was pretty vigilant so who knows.

Would my grandfather have footed any hospital bills for me? Certainly. I was one of the lucky ones in that respect. But what if my grandfather hadn't been able to help out? I shudder to imagine myself today with a crossed eye, a limp, a chronic cough and a lisp.

My point: The US government treated me as a worthwhile investment, which is now paying off. I'm thinking that California would have gotten fewer tax dollars from me over the years if these problems hadn't been corrected early on.

And they not only get my tax dollars, they also get Ralf's, so they doubled their investment. I'm like a twofer.

Ralf, by the way, is as thrilled as I am to help pay for AIG bonuses.

Obama's pretty busy right now trying to get his budget passed and has more or less glossed over the AIG bonuses in order to focus on the big picture. He's right, too, that AIG bonuses are low on the list of American problems right now.

But he's also partly wrong because in many ways the AIG bonuses ARE the big picture.

I'm a conservative Democrat. What this means to me:

I don't think my tax dollars should buy flat screen TVs for crack moms BUT I do think their kids should get hot lunches and a chance to be something when they grow up.

I don't think I should have to pay for a fat smoker's third triple bypass but I do think every child should get the vaccinations and basic medical care they need.

I don't want Congress telling me who I can marry but I do believe the government has a vital role to play in creating opportunities and shaping desired behavior.

And finally, I think it's fine that an executive earns more than a garbage collector but I don't think it's OK if the difference in pay is 1:1000.

(Unless, of course, the exective in question did something like build a company that employs several hundred or several thousand people. Just sitting in management meetings looking important and shifting the odd worthless asset doesn't cut the mustard for me. )

For me the AIG bonuses are a microcosm that highlights everything that's gone wrong in the US since Regan sold people his fake 'Father Knows Best' persona. It's about greedy people sticking their hands in the till not because they earned it - say, with a healthy company - but because they can.

And damn it, $200 million is a heck of a lot of scholarships and vaccinations.

I remember one of my HS teachers explaining that a robust middle-class is what makes a country strong. That was the eighties and we were pretty strong back then.

How strong are we now? How strong will we be in ten years? Twenty?

This is the big picture that President Obama is working toward and I support that.

But to me what's happening at AIG is part of that big picture.

Fun with underwear

During my recent business trip to California I bought K some new underwear. Her old ones were getting a bit small and in some cases, er, tatty.

So I bought her a 6-pack of princess underwear and a 6-pack of brightly colored underwear with frogs on them.

Although L usually inherits K's old clothes - which also extends to undergarments, while I can still get away with it - I also threw in a small 3-pack of Little Mermaid underwear for her.

K LOVES her new underwear. Every morning and after school she lines them all out lovingly on the floor, admires them, caresses them, talks about them, wears them on her head and tries to decide which gleaming new pair she likes best.

She even invented a memory game with them, where she puts them upside down and you have to guess which princess or frog is on the back.

I guess it's been a while since she had new underwear.

She was so excited about them that I worried about L's reaction when she got her measly 3 pairs. But my youngest baby was surprisingly OK with with her 3 pairs and seemed pleased and touched that she got any new underwear at all.

But what really made L happy was when I presented her with all of K's old underwear. Even the tatty ones. She did a little jig of delight around her new pile of old underwear.

I sense that somewhere in there there's a lesson for all of us but I can't quite find the right words. I keep coming up with cynical stuff like, 'It's not the quality, it's the quantity,' and 'All you need is old underwear.'

But I think there's a deeper lesson here about being happy with what you have.

Any suggestions?

And Kristina, I'll let you know how that college thing pans out.

Now, that's a little more like it...

The House actually passed a bill to tax AIG employee bonuses at 90%, which applies to anyone who got a bonus and earns more than $250K a year.

Putting aside my surprise that the House can actually agree on something quickly (328-93!), this news puts a spring in my step.

Should the President have known about this earlier and worked toward legislation that should have prevented the bonuses being paid in the first place?

Probably. Although do your people tell you everything you need to know?

Does this represent a dangerous precedent of random taxation to promote political will?

Absolutely. But except for the 'random' part, that's what government is supposed to do.

Is extreme taxation legislation a little bit scary for non-welfare folks, given the Democrat's general attitude of 'tax the rich and give to the poor?'

Well, yeah, kind of.

Is it possible that this entire fiasco was engineered as a political move to foster outrage and demonstrate action, or perhaps distract the American people from something more serious (like American tax dollars being used to shore up foreign banks)?

Maybe.

But today I don't care. It just feels good that someone finally got slapped on the wrist for fiscal irresponsibility and highway robbery.

Cup of Joe

What do you suppose these pictures have in common?

Lately I've been getting up an hour early so I have a little time for myself before the kids come. If they don't sense my awakeness and general availability this works well.

It's lovely really if you don't focus on the missing hour of sleep. I make some strong imported Pete's coffee, fire up my computer and check my email. This is also when I read the blogs of people who follow my blog and respond to the thoughtful and/or funny comments people have made on my blog.

The rest of the day is hectic with work, housework, kids and calls. But mornings are nice and quiet and I spend them with you guys.

So I was a little dismayed this morning to hear K creeping downstairs about 5 minutes after I got up. I tried to hide it because yesterday I had work-related calls in the afternoon (as opposed to after the kids go to bed) so I could undertand her needing a little extra attention. But I did explain to her that early mornings are my special time and tomorrow I want her to stay in bed until at least 6:30.

She solemnly agreed to this but here's the problem: she's discovered all of YOU.

When she came downstairs I happened to be reading something on Tara's blog. Tara's a California girl like me living in Denmark with her husband and four kids and she posted a slideshow of her kids feeding pigeons. K spotted this immediately, usurped my chair and spent the next 10 minutes watching Tara's kids feed pigeons while I sat grumpily off to the side itching to type.

Then she wanted more: the Maven's avatar, Gracey's pictures of Athen's, Lucy's sleeping cat, Patty's son dressed as a leprichaun, R's American Idol pictures, Lawyer Mom's pictures of Saturn and the mean teacher, Salma Hayek's cartoon boobs, she wanted it ALL, baby.

When she asked me to read Debbie's Moobs post out loud, however, I balked.

So.... any bets on whether she'll keep her promise tomorrow?

It figures

I was planning to write a post called, 'Tax the Bastards!' but once I wrote the title I felt there was nothing more that needed to be said.

OK, I lied. I did actually end up blogging about it on Working Girl, which is my other blog.

And now for something completely different. There was a brief 'thing' going around Facebook and the Blogsphere where you create your own album cover based on threee random inputs from the Web. Here are the rules if you want to try it:

YOUR ALBUM ARTWORK:
1 - Go to "wikipedia." Hit “random”or click here. The first random wikipedia article you get is the name of your band.
2 - Go to "Random quotations"or click here.The last four or five words of the very last quote of the page is the title of your first album.
3 - Go to flickr and click on “explore the last seven days”or click here. Third picture, no matter what it is, will be your album cover.
4 - Use photoshop or similar to put it all together.

It never quite took hold because the results weren't that great for most of us. For example, here is mine:


Isn't that totally lame???

But not everyone failed. For example, Kristina got this:


It figures.

Sort of apropos, although different, my favorite new word is 'moobs.'

Obscure legal phrasing

Sorry, everyone, but the post I wrote this morning about yelling at other people's kids confused a lawyer, who couldn't tell which kid belonged to whom.

That seems like a bad sign.

The good news is that her comment lured me over to her latest post, which is very funny.

Anyway, here's a quick guide to the characters in the following story:

K: My oldest daughter, who is 5.

L: My youngest daughter, who is 3.

J: A 65-year-old Bavarian man in a 4-year-old girl's body and somebody else's child.