CEO

May. 4th, 2011 09:32 am
pandora_parrot: (Default)
I had a dream last night that there was this tech corporation that wasn't doing too well. They had really bad management and were all over the map in what they made. They made electronic toys, Mathematics software applications, computer games of various genres, clients that added additional features to existing games like second life and World of Warcraft. They made bizarre electrical engineering hardware for diagnosing circuit board problems. Just... a whole range of random stuff that didn't seem to have anything to do with each other.

Worse, these projects were horribly managed. The engineers were left to figure it out themselves, what was important and what wasn't, and as a result the Second Life client was sucking up the most resources in the company, while the original fighting game the company was working on was getting no development.

Even the cubicle arrangements were left to the engineers to figure out, resulting in these weird "engineer camps" ala Burning Man, where engineers were mostly smoking pot, playing video games, and doing whatever they felt like doing engineering wise.

The company was running out of cash quicky, was in debt up to its ears, and had no direction. It was dying.

A friend of mine happened to be in the upper management of the company and called me up. She wanted me to basically take over running the company and try to rescue it. Apparently, the CEO and several of the higher level managers were so bad off that they had fled the country.

It somehow wouldn't impact my existing job, so I decided to give it a try. Why not!

I put on my "fuck me, I'm a business woman" outfit and headed into the fray.

I immediately started gathering intel on what the company was doing. The company was so badly organized that no one even had a clear picture of what projects the company was working on. I organized a meeting of everyone that would be reporting to me to give me a full report of what their teams were working on and what projects they had identified. Meanwhile, I walked through the makeshift programmer villages, checking out what people were working on and encouraging or shutting down projects as I saw fit. Engineers that struck me as superfluous, I challenged them to explain what they did for the company lest I fire them on the spot.

It was a lot of fun! I was cleaning up the mess of this company and slowly getting it moving in the right direction. In a few places, I even was doing this literally, cleaning up programmer villages by sweeping up trash, blunts, etc.

At first, I was pretty nervous about taking over... but after a while, I started hitting my stride and gaining confidence, and it was really cool.


You know... Maybe I should do something like this in real life. Like maybe in the future, start getting into management roles in jobs and stuff, moving towards running my own company or engineering team or something.

Could be a fun goal to work towards. :)

Interesting dream, regardless.
pandora_parrot: (Default)
I had 3 dreams merging into one another last night.

One involved a few kids playing a new nintendo handheld console that featured incredibly powerful graphics and the ability to wirelessly transmit video to nearby TVs, with minimal configuration.

Another involved me being a super hero and a parent. I had a son, and I was fighting against this entity that kept taking over his body and possessing him. The entity was also possessing others. While they were possessed, they had powers roughly equivalent to my own.

A third, and final part of the dream involved me doing game development with my team, and we were coordinating getting some of the work done for our next sprint.

Weird stuff.
pandora_parrot: (Default)
Last night, [livejournal.com profile] viesti and I spent the evening together, her on her laptop playing Minecraft, I on mine working on Combo cards. Around 1AM, I started running into this really really annoying bug where my cards weren't painting to the screen. For an hour and a half, I dug into this, trying various things to figure out why the paint method wasn't being called.

I actually fell asleep in the middle of writing another debug statement and eventually transferred to my bed to really sleep.

However, that didn't stop me from debugging.

Towards the middle to end of my sleep cycle, I was dreaming about doing that debugging. In fact, I was having a vivid dream where I was fully aware that I was in a dream and was trying to work out several ideas to try when I woke up. It was nice using my "dream debugger" to actually *cause* the code to do whatever it was that I wanted it to do. And coding at the speed of thought is quite nice as well. The bizarre part is that I was fully aware that I was working on "dream hardware" and could not accept any results as real.

When I woke up this morning, I bounced *right* out of bed and immediately got to work trying some of the ideas I had dreamt about. I flew through test scenarios like a mad woman, having already coded them once in my dreams.

Alas, ultimately, I came upon the problem not because of the dream debugging, but rather because when I got stumped again, the answer came to me. I had actually missed a step somewhere and forgot to add cards to the screen.

That's what I get for coding to exhaustion.

But at least I got to experience dream debugging. That was totally awesome.

After fiddling with things a bit, the GUI is now more or less functional and I'll be moving on to making the back end stuff work.

Here's a pic:



This is actually live and not a mockup, so it's coming along!

I am real!

Sep. 22nd, 2010 10:10 am
pandora_parrot: (Default)
Dream log:

A long time ago, no one knows when but it was probably recent... Something destroyed much of the city and built a vast and complex compound that spanned miles.

I had grown up here. I had lived here all my life. The only light we ever had came from barely working lights that were on in places, and our small flashlights.

I had found a band of individuals that desired to escape from this sadistic maze. As we travelled in search of an exit, we frequently ran into what we can only call zombies. For dealing with them, we all carried various weapons. Shiny metal guns that look like a futuristic ray gun.

I had very little thoughts. I encounter zombies. I shoot. I move to the next area. There was rarely time for feelings or emotion. I was like a cold calculating machine.

At some point, we discovered my childhood home in amongst the city. Somehow, it had gotten transferred here or something. I wandered the basement looking at things from my childhood with a pang in my heart. I had lost so much here. By now, the basement was half empty. It wouldn't be long before it was entirely empty now. I found toys and games from when I was a child, covered in years of filth and debris.

Zombies approached. I shot them. I moved to the next area. There was no time for feelings.

Towards the end of the dream, I arrived at a place that looked quite different from the dingy halls that we had been wandering. It looked to be a sort of lab, and there were a few other people there. It turns out that they actually knew what was going on to some extent. This entire place, they said, was a sort of incubator for machine intelligence. They wanted to see if they could produce sentience by subjecting the artificial life form to extreme situations that induced fear, panic, and emotional pain. They showed me real-time graphs of some of the artificial life forms cognitive states. Approaching a level that had been marked as "sentience," but never quite crossing it. Something about the pattern of one of these graphs looked familiar.

Then, a woman, one of the leaders, said that there was something she wanted to show me. She stepped into the other room, towards a bunch of windowed labs. Then the lights went out. Everyone was silent.

Flashes of the overhead light revealed that several people were approaching. Children. I pointed my gun at them in fear of what they might be. The tension grew. I fired upon them all and the next flash revealed them to be gone.

Then the lights partially came back on.

And standing near the other door was the woman with a person in a wheelchair.

Then it was over.

I'm still travelling. I'm still trying to get out of this place. And I don't care what I saw that day. It doesn't mean anything. I know who I am. I know that I'm real. I expect its just a trick to unnerve me or freak me out or something. Mess with my head.

Thoughts like these never stay in my head for long, though. Zombies approach. I shoot them. I move to the next area. It's what I have to do to survive.

I don't care that the person in the wheelchair was me.
pandora_parrot: (tired)
Had an interesting dream last night.

I and most of my friends were teenagers. The house that one of my friends lived in was experiencing paranormal events, and my little group decided to investigate. Apparently, we freelanced as some sort of paranormal investigators or something.

The house was a really big mansion built on the ridge of a mountain. As soon as we arrived to investigate, I got a bad feeling about one of the adult men living in the house. Something told me that something was wrong about him.

We explored the house, and my psychic senses were tingling quite a bit all over. The place had two basements, one larger than the other, and it seemed like a lot of the psychic emanations were coming from the larger one, so we went down to explore. The investigation turned up a dark, dank basement filled with random doo dads and bits. Unlike the pristine condition of the rest of the house, this place was rotten and disgusting. At one point, I had to use the bathroom, and both of the bathrooms down there were filled with rusted metal. Even the toilet itself was made of rotted, rusting metal.

I ran out of there and joined my group. I recall something interesting happening that was causing us to run about wildly. We found our way to the junction point of the two basements, a sort of small room leading up into two halves of the house, and travelled from there into the main house.

At that point we decided that the junction point was where most of the paranormal activity was originating from and went to talk to the two men that lived there. The one man, my friend's father, kept trying to blow everything off, but the other man indicated that he wanted us to take care of the problem, as a kinetisologist (Apparently, some sort of exorcist type) would cost him several tens of thousands of dollars.

We then continued our investigation down into the second basement, which was really more of a garage. There, we discovered that the second basement was, for some reason, isolated from the evil energy that was permeating the rest of the house. There was a small spillage in the corner of this basement, where we could see some sort of white powdery stuff popping into existence from nowhere, which we saw in other places in the house, but that was it.

As we contemplated the meaning of this, my friend's father came out and started to yell at us. Something rubbed me the wrong way, and we ran outside, jumped on our bikes, and biked across the grounds. Soon, we heard the sound of dogs chasing us. Dozens of small, strange dogs were chasing us at the order of my friend's father. I heard him even give the order to kill.

We split up, half the group traveling to one side of the mountain ridge, the other half going the other way. My group managed to arrive at the gate to the property just as three of the dogs caught up with us. I swung the gate open on two of the dogs, knocking them to the ground unconscious. The third one leapt at us, and I either used a weapon or a swiftly placed kick to knock it back. I grabbed one of the unconscious dogs, slipped outside the gate, and escaped.

Back at our headquarters, we began investigating the dog while we waited for the others to show up. From what we could tell, the dog was spiritually linked to the master of the house, a sort of demonic pet with certain powers. This was bad. Very bad. Why was this guy training and raising evil demonic dogs in the presence of such evil energy emanating from the house?

A thought occurred to me, and I asked our resident geek to find the original plans to the house. I began to wonder if the house had actually been built or extended onto some sort of ancient burial ground or holy land.

As I mused on this, we noticed that the rest of our group still hadn't returned to headquarters. They had probably been captured. I woke up just was we began to make plans to return to the house to retrieve our missing friends.

Neat dream!

Art

May. 10th, 2010 12:51 pm
pandora_parrot: (art)
I have a post coming up soon on the trip to Joshua Tree, but I wanted to talk about an experience I had last night.

Last night I had a dream about drawing. I had learned enough to draw cartoon characters and was able to do a fairly decent job of it, but I wasn't very good at drawing in general yet, and still had a lot of negative opinion of myself.

I woke up a bit confused, trying to remember what I could and could not do regarding drawing.

Then I realized that I haven't picked up my pencil or brush since December.

I make the excuse that I don't have a lot of time, and that's more or less true. But when I do have a few minutes to spare, I'm not drawing. I stare into space, read web pages, or play video games. Why am I not drawing?

Because I'm scared of it.

On some level, drawing is still this magical arcane art that I know that I can't really do. It's a complete fluke that I've been able to draw what I've drawn so far, and I am convinced that when I put my pencil to paper again, I'll be able to draw nothing better than stick figures once more.

I look at my sketchbook, always with me, sitting in my bag... and I look at it with fear. I *know* that I will never be able to draw the sorts of things I've *already* drawn again. I have these images in my head, and I *know* that I can't put them on paper. I don't know how. I don't understand it. I can't describe it or explain it. Somebody else must have drawn those things. I know I can't.

I suppose that I just need to grab the pencil and start doing it again. I've drawn some neat and simple things. I'm actually not doing too badly. But I need to "just do it" and quit hiding from it.

As for time... I should just pull the sketchbook out when I'm doing something else, like eating or relaxing on the couch or talking to someone while they do something else. It doesn't take long to add a few lines to a thingy when I'm not busy doing something else. I don't need to devote whole hours to drawing. Just a few minutes here and there.

But the first thing to do is overcome the fear I've developed of it.
pandora_parrot: (weird)
Last night I had a very detailed and weird dream. But it was very cool.

We were all colonists on this planet. We had travelled there and built cities and everything. I was one of the citizens that lived there, and we lived a happy life. However, there were these alien creatures that kept attacking us ala Neon Genesis Evangelion. Giant 500 ft. tall monster creatures that seemed bent on our destruction. During one such attack I snuck around to explore our capitol city, which was a massive city-sized space ship that we had downed. And I discovered that there was some set of buttons/switches/something that seemed to be related to the attacks. So I flipped some switches and the entire city started to shake.

I escaped the city, along with everyone else, to discover a giant robot emerging from the city. I saw it rise up out of the city, stark against the barren landscape. It was *HUGE* like twice the size of a large mountain. Easily 3000 ft. tall or higher. For whatever reason, the robot began to work with the alien to enslave all of the colonists. Many of us escaped into the underground, but the giant robot (that looked and sounded a lot like Optimus Prime) had a special interest in me and kept sending probes and stuff to talk to me and stuff.

I can't remember everything that the giant alien robot wanted, but I do remember that it was very weird and surreal. Like the giant robot wanted to be loved and wanted to control *me* in particular or something. As the dream went on, I was finding myself becoming part of the intrigue and battle for humanity. I watched as the landscape which was starting to grow some crops and stuff, was destroyed by the robots and aliens. The landscape became a barren wasteland even more than it already was, and most of humanity snuck down into underground structures.

I don't remember much about living in those underground structures, but it was a hard life. We had to do raids on controlled areas to obtain any food. We had to run any time one of the robots or its probes discovered us. But while in there, we lived as best we could. At one point, I remember taking a brush and some special colored soap, mixing with dye/paint, and painting a massive landscape painting onto a wall. I remember the individual brush strokes, and the weird way the material would cake together as I brushed, forming 3D structures that emerged from the painting. It was some sort of act of rebellion against our conditions. That even in the midst of our struggle for survival, we could create beautiful things.

The dream ended after yet another evacuation to another facility, wherein myself and a few others gathered. We were some sort of special cabal of individuals. Destined to be leaders or something like that. One of the things that made us different than the others, though, was that we had a sensitivity to the sun. The sun there apparently tended more towards violet light, which caused me and this cabal damage for some reason. We all had a special medicine that had to be constantly injected into our bodies by needles that stuck into our throats. But we were running out of medicine, and wondering about what to do next.

And that's where the dream ended.

Interesting stuff.
pandora_parrot: (contemplative)
Interesting dream last night: I saw a world where the imagination of children causes reality to bend to its will. If they play a game of pretend or even just idly imagine something, it happens.

It's similar to a story I once read. Upon waking, I thought that it would have some very interesting social implications. It would totally change the dynamic.

Children can be carefree and wander around as they wish. There is nothing that can harm them. If an adult ever tried to do something to a child, the child's imagination would conjure up defenses that could destroy the adult. If they had an accident and fell off a cliff or something, balloons or kites or pterodactyls would come to save them.

Adults fear and respect children. They are forced to take very careful care of children, encouraging them to not idly imagine anything too dangerous. If a child were to imagine an alien invasion... many adults would die in the ensuing war against the extraterrestrials... Hell... warfare, in general, would be completely different.


Some somewhat unrelated musings )


Also: Last night, I was so exhausted from the road trip that I was actually experiencing visual hallucinations. I saw faces and creatures popping up in my room out of the corner of my eye. It was a little disconcerting and freaky.
pandora_parrot: (struggle)
I dreamt last night that my mother, who in reality is telling just my family, actually outted me to all my coworkers and everyone I know as well. I was at some sort of office building, and all my friendly co-workers from my old job had some sort of meeting with me. They all sat down, and hugged me and told me how much they loved me and how happy they were for me, and how they felt I was so courageous. Even my old asshole boss seemed ambivalent about things.

Waking up was quite sad.

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Pandora Parrot

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