I feel bad for bitching about my job now after how nice they were today. I woke up feeling sick to my stomach but forced myself to go in anyway since I’d already taken two days off this week. (I don’t think it’s food poisoning as nothing has, uh, moved; it’s more like nausea and cramping and pain in general. I think it may be flu-related. This has happened to me several times before.) I was doing all right until noon, but then the smell of other people’s lunches hit me. I came as close to puking as it’s possible to get. I decided to get on out of there. My friend Kevin couldn’t leave yet though, so I decided to catch the bus back. I staggered out to the stop and waited in the hot sun. Within five minutes, my legs start shaking and my face went clammy. There was no way I could last the 30 minute trip home. I managed to get back to the office where Kevin took one look at my white face and put me to bed in our “sick bay”. That was nice. He also evidently called my boss and told him what had happened, because before too long the HR chick showed up with a Cab Charge so I could take a taxi home. That was even more nice. I rested for an hour and then caught my cab. Now I’m home and Dr. Amy Jones has started her ultrasonic kitty healing process (i.e. she’s purring in my lap). Hopefully I’ll be recovered enough for Major’s wedding tomorrow!

Want to move to Oz? Australia has announced they’ll be letting in an extra 5000 immigrants next year.

Another year, another racial brouhaha at my alma mater. On Tuesday, former Notre Dame player and Heisman winner Paul Hornung gave a radio interview in which he offered this analysis of our string of losing seasons: “We can’t stay as strict as we are as far as the academic structure is concerned because we’ve got to get the black athlete. We must get the black athlete if we’re going to compete.” What an ass. The university was understandably annoyed and commentators were offended. I especially liked this scathing response: “Never mind that about half of Notre Dame’s current roster is black. Never mind that Notre Dame football doesn’t lack black athletes, just great athletes. That’s irrelevant. Of significantly greater relevance is Hornung’s assumption that academic standards must be lowered to give the darkies, er … I mean the colored, er … I mean the black athletes a chance. After all, the white athletes clearly have no problem meeting these standards — the evidence being the brilliant sociological elucidation offered by Professor Hornung.” Right on. After initially defending his boneheaded remarks, Hornung today apologized.

He reminds me of the chubby kid on the tour my Mom and I took for prospective students back in 1994. Most of us wanted to hear about student life and classes, but that idiot only wanted to know if we’d get to go inside the stadium. Finally the tour guide snapped. “Look,” he said, “if all you’re interested in is football, don’t apply. Notre Dame is a tough school and there are only six home games a year. A Notre Dame degree is about more than being just a fan.” We nearly applauded.

Summit Restaurant Review
In accordance with our tradition, the Snook and I headed out last night for a fancy dinner to celebrate our anniversary. We’d booked a table at the Summit, which is the revolving restaurant on the 47th floor of the Australia Square building. We were lured in by this review: “Very James Bond, circa Diamonds Are Forever. But after a few drinks it turns very Austin Powers, circa The Spy Who Shagged Me. Groovy, baby.” Who could resist that? So we got all cleaned up and headed out.

The decor is very retro with deep red carpet and molded white space chairs. The view was fantastic. We were there at 7:30 so it was dark and we had the whole lit-up city to look at. It did take a while to adjust to the “outer-half-of-the-room-is-spinning” thing. (It reminded me of the White Water Landing platform at Cedar Point, actually.) The rotation was very slow – it took us over two hours to go all the way around – but it was still very noticeable. I can’t imagine how annoying it must be for the waiters to constantly have their tables moving in relation to the kitchen. As is apparently the custom at revolving restaurants, a lady came around with a camera and took several pictures of us. Later on in the meal she brought back the proofs so we could check them out. My favorite was the photo above. Pretty nice, huh? I may get some copies made for our parents. (We also bought another one of the Snook by himself in which he looks like the sleaziest lounge lizard in the history of the world. I burst out laughing when I saw it. It’s hilarious. I’ll post it sometime soon.)

The food was really good. My starter was veal fillet on angelhair pasta with pesto and basil, and for the main I had venison wrapped in pastry. Both were incredibly yummy. The Snook had the “game trio” to start (venison, quail, and ‘roo) and then the seafood risotto. For dessert he had sorbet and I had the almond and amaretto parfait. I’m still drooling. Oh! And I finally had a mojito! I liked it a lot. I’m not a wine connoisseur myself but the Snook felt that the list was very good and the wines we bought by the glass were excellent. Overall the food cannot be faulted. It wasn’t as orgasmically over-the-top as Rockpool but it was better than Wildfire. Service was good but they didn’t seem to have enough staff on and we often had to catch a waiter’s attention when we needed something.

Final rating: 8.5/10. Excellent food, okay service, great view. Of the Sydney restaurants we’ve visited, I’d only rate Rockpool and Bennelong higher.

Bush’s term as President has seen more American jobs lost than any other President since Herbert Hoover. Check the chart. Pretty damning stuff. I still don’t get why anybody would vote for him. (Pssst, Sis, show this to that Republican fiance of yours.)

Sydney City Council has just passed new regulations requiring driver’s licenses for yum-cha cart operators. I had yum-cha for the first time a few months ago and was unimpressed. It’s basically “dim sum”, as I understand it, where they wheel around carts full of little stuffed pork buns and chicken wings and spring rolls. Apparently there have been a rash of yum-cha cart accidents so now wait staff will have to undergo training and carry “L plates” for the first six months. Hee!

Note for Non-Aussies: Here’s the process for getting a driver’s license in this country (as I understand it). First you have to pass a Learner’s Test, after which you get your “L plates” to put on the car. It’s just a little sign with a red L on it. You have to log a certain number of hours driving and then you get to take your Provisional Test, which is a driving test with an instructor. When you pass that, you get your “red P’s”. Then later you have to take a Hazard Perception Test, after which you get your “green P’s”. And after that, there’s one final test before you get your real license. Pretty insane, huh? The L and P plates mark you out as a new driver, which means you have to drive slower and you get higher penalties for being pulled over. It’s a pretty thorough system!

Addendum, many hours later: I started to tell Snookums about the story tonight at dinner when he mentioned he’d already seen it. “Pretty good,” he said. “I bet a lot of people fell for it.” Me: “Uh… D’oh!” Consider me April Fooled. I can’t believe I’m that dumb.

Worst. Job. Ever! Check out this Slashdot thread of the worst web development job stories. Is it any wonder I want to leave this industry?

Happy anniversary to my sweet Snookums…

Four years down and lots to go!

Note: The picture was taken by my sister when we visited the States last June. Just in case you’re wondering when the Snook’s facial hair spontaneously reappeared… It hasn’t.