Last night was my first dose of project management goodness. I'm taking this "fundamentals of..." class, the first in a series of three that will prepare me for the PMP exam. And after I get my certification, everything will be sunshine and ice cream, and I will never cry myself to sleep again. Just kidding. I don't cry; I'm too hardcore.
The class is peopled largely with IT folks like myself. Many are, like me, wanting to take that next step in their career progression. Like many night classes at the University of Louisville I've experienced, there is the obligatory older crank who insists on making the class all about her, asking tons of semi-relavent questions, getting the instructor further and further off-topic. We divided up into teams to do our labs. My team has two Indian guys (one probably Hindu, the other likely Muslim, based on my ignorant interpretation of their names... but I'm pretty sure Hussein comes from a Muslim background.) Also, we have a cute Japanese woman. Everybody seems nice. Hussein is especially nice because he's only been in the country since, like, lunch. When we all introduced ourselves, he was so thrilled to be in America, enthusiasm radiated from him like gamma rays from Chernobyl. We all worked pretty well together.
The instructor is a pretty cool dude. He's an Indian motorcycle enthusiast and in three hours managed to talk about his motorcycle about 100 times. But he's a good, entertaining instructor.
After nearly a week of shitty days, I am ready for the weekend. I am taking a bit of an in-cubicle sabbatical today because I just don't give a fuck. For lunch, I plan on going to get some soul food, spicy rib tips at Indi's on Broadway.
Rib tips update: OMG. I won't say that it was the best barbeque I've ever had. That honor goes to Oklahoma City's County Line Barbeque near the Cowboy Hall of Fame. But it was the best I've had in a long time. I ordered them, and when the cashier asked whether I wanted the hot or mild sauce, I said "Hot." She looked at me as if to say, "You a dumbass white boy." I knew I was in trouble when I opened the styrofoam box, and the vapors rising up from the sauce burned my nose. It was like hell going down -- literally hell with the devils and pitchforks and lakes of fire. And now, two hours after ingestion, my innards are trying to cope with a river of lava raging through. Oh so good. Fuego! Caliente!
In other news, I am going to the ASUG 2006 conference in Orlando, FL. I might bring the family unit. ASUG = America's SAP User Group. Last time was a pretty good time. It was in Anaheim, CA. Vendors loaded me up with free crap. Some even gave us free hooch, which is always a good way to get on my good side. I managed to find a Korean Go Club. This year should be no different, except that I will be going with a cow orker and possibly my family. That might alter the experience.