The wife and I went to a Rangers game last night. It’s their final homestand of the season and even though their season is over and it’s looking increasingly like the Rangers won’t even be able to play a spoiler role in an actual race, I still wanted to go out and support the team.

Plus, it was my birthday and I got great seats through StubHub a mere 30 rows up from the field. They were $55 tickets and we got two for $60 including all the ticket fees.

Anyways, it was her first baseball game (of any stripe) and she really enjoyed it. Kelly’s primary exposure to baseball has been through seeing parts of an occasional game on television and then dejectedly walking off to watch a different television when she realized that I wasn’t going to stop watching just because the Rangers were down by seven runs. I promised her that seeing a baseball game in person is different: you see and hear things you don’t get from a television broadcast. You sit there and eat unhealthy food (mmmmm…garlic fries) and you heckle the opposing players and the ump and you try to yell words of “encouragement” about finding the strike zone to your pitchers and you cheer when your guys get a home run. That sort of thing.

From a baseball perspective, it was a lousy game. Both teams looked terrible, the Rangers blew several leads and the bullpen stunk. But I had a great time explaining the nuances of the game to my wife (who actually wanted to understand what was happening), she saw her favorite player hit a home run and we just generally had a great time together. She was actually highly disappointed when I told her this was the season’s final homestand and we wouldn’t be able to come back again this year. (Although, for supporting our crappy team in the final homestand, we got two free passes and half-price parking for an April or May game next season, which was really cool of them.) It was good fun. Next time I’ll remember to take a pen so I can show her how to keep score.

[After eating a whole bunch of "mild" wings.]
KC: *burp* “Oof. Even my burps hurt!”

The way it should be:

1. Download some files pertaining to Quickbooks’s software development kit.
2. Flip through some code samples, see if it can be integrated into a site we need done very quickly.
3. Make a decision, yea or nay.

The way it is:

1. Spend 10 minutes trying to find information about how to integrate Quickbooks into our site.
2. Finally find the developer site buried in their site hierarchy.
3. Find the SDK I need, but, whoops, I have to register for that first.
4. Registration form is broken.
5. Spend 10 minutes trying to find a feedback form.
6. Swear repeatedly as I have to fill out tons of useless data just to let them know their form is broken.
7. Wait.
8. Wait.
9. Wait.
10. Swear and then wait.
11. Wait.
12. Randomly check the site 30 minutes later and discover the form works now. (No e-mail.)
13. Enter in personal information they don’t really need.
14. Enter in company information they don’t really need (2nd page).
15. Try to figure out idiotic error messages. (”What do you mean there’s an invalid character in the website address? It’s called a ’slash,’ you stupid form. You might’ve heard of it?”)
16. Finish registering.
17. Wait for confirmation e-mail with temporary password.
18. Log in.
19. Change stupid temporary password to real password. (”Why is this a step?”)
20. Search through reams of links to find link to SDK.
21. Agree to terms of use whereby I will not sue Intuit if I accidentally manage to end all life on Earth should their software fail.
22. Look at the link and realize IT’S A FARKING .EXE FILE!!!! ARGH!!!!!!
23. Swear. A lot.
24. Wake up Windows computer.
25. Log into Windows computer.
26. Find site on Windows computer.
27. Log in on Windows computer.
28. Find SDK on Windows computer.
29. Agree to terms of use on Windows computer.
30. Click on SDK download link on Windows computer.
31. Realize that this is a 99 MB file.
32. Swear. A lot more.
33. Wait for download.
34. Wait for download.
35. Wait for download.
36. Wait for download.
37. Wait for download.
38. Download finishes after 20 minutes of waiting.
39. Open install program.
40. Wait for install program to determine if it can be installed.
41. Again agree to terms of use whereby I will not sue Intuit if I accidentally manage to create some sort of subspace rift that causes a hole the very fabric of the universe causing all space-time to collapse on itself by using their software.
42. Enter in my name to “personalize” the software (”Booger McGee” of “Booger Software Ltd.”).
43. Run basic install.
44. Wait for install.
45. Wait for install.
46. Wait for install.
47. “This computer does not have sufficient administrator privileges to install this software. Please log in as an administrator to continue.”
48. Issue a fatwa demanding the heads of the entire Intuit Board of Directors, the CEO and all other executive staff members.
49. Run installer again, hoping that with a custom install, maybe, just maybe I can extract the documentation files I need.
50. Wait for install program to determine if it can be installed.
51. Again agree to terms of use whereby I will not sue Intuit if I accidentally manage to get the software to work somehow.
52. Enter in my name to “personalize” the software (”Screw” of “You Pal”).
53. Run Custom Install.
54. Try to uncheck everything but the documentation, but it won’t let me uncheck everything.
55. Realize that this still won’t work, but hope against hope anyway.
56. Wait for install.
57. Wait for install.
58. Wait for install.
59. “This computer does not have sufficient administrator privileges to install this software. Please log in as an administrator to continue.”

Result: An hour and a half later, I’ve gotten nowhere and we have to go with another solution. Thanks, Intuit! On its way is a copy of Don’t Make Me Think! by Steve Krug. Please read, atone for your mistakes and then kill yourselves. Thanks!

I have received explicit instructions from my wife not to make any posts regarding her pregnant…uh…”emissions,” so I think I’m risking my life by posting this, but it’s worth it.

KC: Blarck. [Ed. This is sort of a burp.]
RB: “Blarck?”
KC: Yeah.
RB: How exactly do you spell “blarck”?
KC: Uh, B-L-A-C-K…
RB: “Black?”
KC: …
RB: So I’ve been mispronouncing that word this whole time?
KC: [trying not to laugh]
RB: Soooo, you would say the color of our cat would be…what then?
KC: Shut up!