THIS IS MY BLOG

This is my online journal, to be updated sporadically. Enjoy.

Leer at Me in My Pixelated Glory

Finally... after months and months, I've finally removed my indolent posterior from its resting place and posted my photo gallery. It's not as though the pictures are spectacular, but now it means when I'm online and people ask me if I have a picture, I have someplace I can refer them to. That's going to make my time in the "NSYNC ROOLZ" and "NEEDLEPOINT 4 PROFIT" chat rooms sooooo much easier.

I'm sure I'll eventually add more pictures to it; the question is really why anyone would want to look at it more than once.. It's not like I have a fan club or anything. Hmm.. which begs the question: Would anyone pay $29.95/mo to be part of the Official Omid Fan Club™? If so, then maybe I can ease up on the job hunting.... :P

Wednesday, April 25, 2001

Live and On the Air!

radio1328, my very own Internet radio station, is now up and live - on the air! (Or on the wire, to be exact.) What is it? It's a blend of all sorts of music from my massive collection, available to be listened to as an MP3 stream by just about anyone in the world on pretty much any kind of connection... check it out at www.tavallai.com/radio.

Thursday, January 18, 2001

Back to the Bay

Hooooooly cowww! Or so the late Chicago Cubs announcer would have said. It's been 3 full months since I've updated this baby, yet I'm sure no one cares as I have a smaller audience than that Chevy Chase late night talk show that failed miserably oh so many years ago.

No matter, I'm updating it once again to announce to those whom I don't keep in touch with on a regular basis - and the poor souls who don't know me but stumble upon this site - that I am returning to the Bay Area. This Friday, I will pack all my worldly possessions (save for a hideous white-lacquer dining room table) into a 14' U-Haul truck and **gasp** move back into my parents' home in lovely Sunnyvale, CA.

Now, as much as I love having my own place and my independence, this isn't so bad a proposition. After all, who can argue with free room and board? Yes, I will certainly miss the freedoms afforded by paying my own rent - the ability to crank tunes as loud as I want at any hour (Aren't my neighbors just soooo understanding? Thanks, guys!), to have company at any and all hours of the day, to roam naked through my abode after a shower... Yes, all these freedoms will be gone. In fact, I get the feeling I won't even be able to talk on the phone late at night thanks to the thin walls of my parents' home (thank goodness for broadband and instant messaging). So what's the upside? Let's see... I get to live in one of the priciest zip codes in the country (I'm oh-so image-conscious)... There are about 10 bazillion (is that a real number?) career opportunities that actually match my skills there... And... hmm... ok, so I don't exactly relish moving back to the Bay, but it will truly be nice to be among my old friends there, and I think that's what really holds the attraction for me. So to you boys & girls in the Bay Area whom I'll be hanging out once again - you know who you are - it's going to be good to be back!

At the same time, I must bid a fond farewell to my friends in Los Angeles. Yep - all three or four of you who haven't left LA yet. You will be missed, but let's not get teary-eyed. I'm only a 5 hour drive away, and I assume that until I get that typical 60-hour-a-week Silicon Valley job, I'll be able to come down at a moment's notice and party down LA-style. Which for me means renting a DVD and getting a twelve-pack of microbrew... yeesh, I sound old! So to my fellow Angelenos, don't get too comfy. You're not safe from my constant whining or demands for road trips to Vegas.

Wednesday, October 18, 2000

Every Flight Counts.

That's the motto of America West (Worst?) Airlines, carrier of myself and company from mighty, bustling LAX to humdrum San Antonio Airport. Indeed, Every Flight Counts - toward one huge record of terrible service and poor operations. Neema and I booked our flights on MicroShaft's Expedia (mistake number one - they tried to overcharge us at first) to get a good deal.. we ended up getting a cheap rate on the airline in question, but arranged it so that we'd land in San Antonio early in the day. That would leave us ample time to rent a car, drive to McAllen (at the southern tip of Texas), and enjoy the company of our old friends there...

Injury 1: We arrive at LAX a little under an hour before our flight to Phoenix. Lo and behold, thanks to America Worst merging their operations with British Airways and Continental, the check-in line resembles the men's room que at Candlestick Park around halftime. Apparently, they were processing an entire Japanese tour group, even though people in line had flights to catch within the next hour. We finally get up to pock-mark boy (you should see this face!) at the counter and are told we won't make our flight. Never mind that after we checked in, the flight was STILL boarding... Instead, we'll be taking the 10:00 am flight to Phoenix, then waiting for a 3:30 flight to San Antonio... that's 4 hours of waiting around in Phoenix, folks!

Insult to Injury: We board the plane for Phoenix. What do you know? They've assigned duplicate seats. Fortunately, by the good grace of the airline gods, we didn't have to move.

Injury 2: After four lovely hours of eating, walking around, drinking coffee, and reading at Sky Harbor International in Phoenix (you have to admit - it's a pretty cool name), we board the flight for San Antonio. Finally. Oh, did I mention they duplicated seats again? This time, the whole plane was involved. After at least 20 minutes of passengers squabbling with flight crew, they announced that it's open seating, a la Southwest. Lots of people complain about Southwest and how cheap the first-come-first-served seating policy is. I love it. There's nothing worse than thinking that boarding will be smooth because of assigned seating. It takes longer and mistakes royally screw everyone over.

Injury 3: Four days later, checking in at San Antonio... well, 2/3 of us checked in alright. Apparently, they cancelled the return half of Karen's itinerary during the switch-up in LAX 96 hours beforehand, so technically, she didn't exist to the good folks at America West. With that eventually cleared up, we boarded again... Does this airline do anything right?

Injury 4: Phoenix to LAX. Guess what? Every seat was duplicated again. It seems America Worst especially can't get anything right in their own hub! Is dependable staffing really that hard to find in Arizona?

The Final Insult: We land in LAX on time, which was an amazing shock. And, somehow, luggage started pouring on to the carousel just as we got to the baggage claim. All that luggage, coming down that ramp and onto the dizzying conveyer belt... oh, all the luggage but mine. As the baggage claim area emptied out, I could hear the blood boiling in my veins. It was this feeling of anger combined with a sense of utter futility. Was I supposed to have yet another Ed-Norton-in-Fight-Club moment? Just days earlier I'd lost all my digital posessions in a computer blow-up. Now I lose my precious garment bag.. "1 CK suit, 2 DKNY shirts, 2 Perry Ellis shirts, 1 AX tie, 2 Perry Ellis ties, 1 pair of Perry Ellis shoes, 1 pair of Kenneth Cole shoes..." I had a mental inventory of everything in that bag. Being that I was going to a wedding, I put all my nice (read: expensive) stuff in there. The Tyler Durden motto of "you are not your possessions" didn't bring me any comfort. Was my bag ticking? Vibrating? Hell no. Blame it on the inherent incompetence of the A-Worst crew.

I just got my luggage back. It somehow ended up on a Southwest flight, went all over the country, and came to LAX. Some greasy delivery guy brought it by my apartment, expecting a tip. If I hadn't gotten this stuff back, it wouldn't have been too much of a travesty. I brought back my briefcase full of souvenirs, and it's these little mementos that really matter in life: a tall can of Lone Star Beer (the "National Beer of Texas," which I'll never drink), a "Don't Mess with Texas" t-shirt, a Mexican gangsta baseball cap with a big calligraphic letter "O" stitched on the front of it, and, oh, the briefcase itself. Apparently, cool Halliburton stuff costs a load less when you buy it 10 miles from their plant. I really dig my new case. And fortunately for all, it ain't full of soap...

An Institute You Can't Disparage

Or so says ol' Frank of marriage. No, I don't have marriage on my mind, thank you very much. I've recently returned from Texas where I saw my friend Enrique get bound in holy matrimony to his bride Elsa - and for one weekend I could totally forget about myself and revel in someone else's happiness.

To be honest, I'd never seen the couple together before.. in fact, this past weekend was the first time I'd met Elsa, and to see them happy together, all nervous and giddy and ready to dive into the future (after a nice honeymoon, of course) was truly.. mmm... nice. I can't think of another word right now, as I'm simply recalling a general happiness I sensed in them that radiated and somehow spread to me. So that's what it's about...

If you think I'm going soft, don't worry, it's only momentary. I'm only a minute away from posting my tirade about the actual trip to the state of Texas and all the hell of interstate travel on a budget.. But if E&E ever read this - congratulations!!

Monday, October 09, 2000

A Better Tomorrow

What a difference a day makes. After the unthinkable occurences last night (see previous entry), I made a deal with the devil to put myself back in business.. sparing all the details of the deal, I now have a shiny, new Power Macintosh G4 on my desk.

However, the feeling isn't as ecstatic as it normally would be for a self-professed Mac geek like me. I've still lost much of my work.. a lot of work I had been doing to put on this site has disappeared. A lot of my documents - writing, digital photos, music - all gone. Unfortunately, my back-up habit only extended to work I've been doing for client projects. At least I'm responsible in that area.

Fortunately, everyone's been supportive thus far. My parents understood the situation and handled it with their typical candor - reminding me of my past failures and wondering if I'd just move back in with them. But they were still nice. Neema accompanied me to the computer store whilst I pondered over which system to get (within budget, despite his insistence that I overspend...) A call to Vinh provided me with a nice "silver lining" thought - perhaps it's time, now that I'm making a career transition, that I just start everything anew... That's the most comforting thought altogether.

Starting anew.. that's how I'll look at it. A bright future for me and my new computer. Dashed with the occasional nightmare - twisted thoughts of how the things I lost could have been of great help for me now. I can't help it. I mix the positive with a lot of negative. Call me well-balanced. Like the "complete breakfast" that Kellog's endorses. Whatever. I'm mentally exhausted. Good night for now.

Sunday, October 08, 2000

Thus Begins the Downward Spiral

Running low on funds. One paycheck left to go. Then I thrust myself into the iffy world of freelancing. I haven't been too worried about getting work - a friend whom I'd just completed a gig for gave me a referral to do a site.. HOWEVER

When you've cut the umbilical cord and made yourself, your talent, and your resourcefulness your lifeblood, stumbling blocks become larger than ever. Earlier this evening, my beloved workhorse, a revved-up beige G3 minitower, decided it was time to die. The acrid scent of electrial burning filled my nostrils and grew exponentially as I stooped down to examine the once-glorious beige box. I tried to put on a new hard drive, suspecting it was one of my drives.. nothing. I shut it down for hours, hoping the CPU just needed to cool down.. nothing. Each push of the power button yielded the familiar Macintosh startup chime, but only a black, unlit screen to accompany it. Not even a flashing question mark. I tried everything in my power to save it... nothing. "I'm sorry, Mr. Tavallai, we did everything he could. It was just his time." I have a visual in my mind of some Apple-authorized Mac doctor saying that to me from behind his graphite surgical mask.

As those who know me are already aware, and as sad as it is, my computer is basically my life. DSL provides my window to the world, design and development applications are the way I communicate, and digital media keeps me entertained. I sometimes have a life outside of what I do on the computer, but for the time being, this lifestyle has suited me just fine. A few workouts at the gym and a new fad diet every once in a while keep me from being the 300-lb shut-in I have the potential to be, after all.

Now what? I have to get a new system. Immediately. I've been saying my next system will be one of those shiny new G4 Cubes. Yeah right. Give me the lowest price point with the most power please.. oh, and, uh, could you extend me some credit? The reality is, of course, that I can't even afford a refurbished Compaq 486 at this point. Shoot me now, please.