I can't really start a new post with a "remember that time when..." or "when I wrote about XXX" because despite having played around with Blogger since Al3x and I took Web Design together back in high school, I haven't been writing consistantly and therefore I have no archive that I really wish to show anyone. That isn't to say, however, that I didn't ever write about stuff. * did anyone notice that I differentiated Al3x and Alex? I did that without even thinking. I mean, totally autopilot. Weird. Something however that I thought I had gotten over during my four years in the arctic frozen tundra Brett Favre land is time zone differences. My first semester I wrote some kind of screed for a class I can barely remember on daylight savings time, why it is stupid, and time zones, or more accurately why I can't stand them. They vex me so. Oh, how they vex me.
See, one of my recent side projects has been working on a collaborative written product with someone who exists in Mountain Time, two hours back. Meanwhile, there is the extremely strange saga of me doing an incalculable amount of unnervingly timely and easy catching up with Alex, a subject which I really should write about at some point since it's really starting to enlighten me on the true nature of people and life in general, but I will save that for another time when I can actually process rational thoughts and put them into words * wait a second, isn't that what I'm doing here? I guess not. that require a bit more contemplation than me just bitching about how tired I am. Oh, back to Time Zones. So, I live in Eastern Time. I went to school in Central (-1) and many of my friends still live there. Not too bad. Now, add in trying to coordinate calls and drafts on a rather important piece of writing with someone in Mountain (-2). Stir in having to do massive amounts of laundry and cleaning, and an uncanny ability to get caught up in conversations with someone in Pacific (-3) that revolve around the obscurest of movie references and a still-slightly-disconcerting firehose of life that bears a strange resemblance to another person who you know in Eastern quite well, only far less depressing since the person in (-3) has managed to not be a total fuckup under considerably more trying circumstances, at least to the best of my knowledge. Ok anyway, TZ's are an entirely fictional creation based on the sun. Ships at sea keep their own time, either Greenwich time (GMT) or whatever is mandated by their function. Some large countries don't even have time zones (Soviet Russia and China come to mind). Maybe this isn't a bad idea. Dealing with such large swaths of time difference in an information-based society when our concepts of time zones go back to an industrial past (think DST) can be a problem. I'll tell you this much. Working on the MT project is going to take me through tonight into tomorrow, and if I actually write about what I want to write about once Congress gets back into the usual swing of things, I'll be writing for a Pacific TZ audience, living and working on an Eastern TZ schedule. I'm fucking exhausted. I'd better get used to it. Oh, yeah. And I still haven't done Registered Traveler yet. I might not. More on that later, maybe. * Stay tuned for why I hate Brett Favre.
Leave a comment