Rachel Ober

Life & Times of a Female Software Engineer

Dynamic Dummy Image Generator

Feb 3

Posted by Rachel in Tech | No Comments

This is super geeky, but I can’t help but love it. If you’re like me, you use a lorem ipsum generator such as http://www.lipsum.com/ when you are designing layouts with sample content. But what about generating sample images to see how sizes affect your layouts (like if you’re designing a blog and you might have a variety of images with a variety of sizes linked in that blog)?

Testing, 1.. 2.. 3! Ta-da, my dummy image.

Testing, 1.. 2.. 3! Ta-da, my dummy image.

That’s where the Dynamic Dummy Image Generator comes in!

Sometimes you just need a placeholder image right at your finger tips. Just enter the width + x + height at the end of this URL and off you go!

Example: http://dummyimage.com/640×480

You can either generate one and right click + save as or just hotlink it right into whatever page you want to design. It would probably be nicer if you just downloaded the script yourself though so you don’t kill the poor guy’s server. ;-)

And I’ll do it right now, let’s hope this works!

It’s so stupidly simple, how come I didn’t think of this already? I think it would have been awesome to have this when I was working on some design projects in the past.

Tags: , ,

Stupid Scalpers (A Small Rant)

Jan 26

Posted by Rachel in Music, Rants | No Comments

I’ve been trying really hard to get to more concerts now than when I was in college. I feel it’s a great experience to expand your knowledge of a performer to actually see them live. I just want to say that I am really upset I wasn’t able to score tickets to see Lady Gaga while she was in NYC! I signed on at exactly 10am when the sale started and wasn’t able to even reserve one seat, let alone the three I really wanted. The concert tickets were about $50-$70 a pop originally and on places like Stub Hub they were going for $500. Re-dick-u-lous. This is why I appreciate bands like Nine Inch Nails who require names on tickets and then proof of identity when you go to the concerts (at least that’s what they did when they did the small venue circuit over the summer.) It sucks if it ends up that you can’t go to the concert because you can’t re-sell them, but the overall cost for the fan is much lower and you don’t have this secondary market popping up that exists only to screw real fans over.

Tags: , ,

To Pet Owners

Jan 14

Posted by Rachel in Pets | 1 Comment

I found this on MyCorgi.com on someone else’s blog and I just had to share:

The following was found posted very low on a refrigerator door.

Dear Dogs and Cats: The dishes with the paw prints are yours and contain your food. The other dishes are mine and contain my food. Placing a paw print in the middle of my plate and food does not stake a claim for it becoming your food and dish, nor do I find that aesthetically pleasing in the slightest.

The stairway was not designed by NASCAR and is not a racetrack.. Racing me to the bottom is not the object. Tripping me doesn’t help because I fall faster than you can run.

I cannot buy anything bigger than a king sized bed. I am very sorry about this. Do not think I will continue sleeping on the couch to ensure your comfort, however. Dogs and cats can actually curl up in a ball when they sleep. It is not necessary to sleep perpendicular to each other, stretched out to the fullest extent possible. I also know that sticking tails straight out and having tongues hanging out on the other end to maximize space is nothing but sarcasm.

For the last time, there is no secret exit from the bathroom! If, by some miracle, I beat you there and manage to get the door shut, it is not necessary to claw, whine, meow, try to turn the knob or get your paw under the edge in an attempt to open the door. I must exit through the same door I entered. Also, I have been using the bathroom for years – canine/feline attendance is not required.

The proper order for kissing is: Kiss me first, then go smell the other dog or cat’s butt. I cannot stress this enough.

Finally, in fairness, dear pets, I have posted the following message on the front door:

TO ALL NON-PET OWNERS WHO VISIT AND LIKE TO COMPLAIN ABOUT OUR PETS:

(1) They live here. You don’t.
(2) If you don’t want their hair on your clothes, stay off the furniture. That’s why they call it ‘fur’-niture.
(3) I like my pets a lot better than I like most people.
(4) To you, they are animals. To me, they are adopted sons/daughters who are short, hairy, walk on all fours and don’t speak clearly.

Remember, dogs and cats are better than kids because they:
(1) eat less,
(2) don’t ask for money all the time,
(3) are easier to train,
(4) normally come when called,
(5) never ask to drive the car,
(6) don’t smoke or drink,
(7) don’t want to wear your clothes,
(8) don’t have to buy the latest fashions,
(9) don’t need a gazillion dollars for college and
(10) if they get pregnant, you can sell their children …

With it being so damn cold this winter, the thing about the bed hits close to home since Izzie has taken up jumping on the bed to sleep with me again. She, of course, demands the prime position on the bed, usually at the foot of the bed on MY side or crawls on to my lap to sleep. The other night we got into a growling match because I picked her up and moved her to the other side of the bed so I could stretch out. Um, dog! Who do you think gives you your food? It doesn’t just appear out of nowhere!

Tags: , , ,

To Feed the Homeless

Jan 14

Posted by Rachel in Adventures | 1 Comment

Tonight I spent $12 to buy two beggars on the street food. I’ve never done that before. What on Earth would possess me to do that?
Before I answer that question, I’ll preface it with some explanation.
I lived in downtown-”ish” Boston for the better part of 5 years while I studied for my undergraduate degree. While walking to and from different places (some say you can get to anywhere in Boston by walking in about 15 minutes) you tend to meet some interesting people. Especially around the liquor store right on the edge of campus which also happened to be right next to a half-way house (yes, that sounds like a very good idea to me!) Over the years I’ve perfected the “don’t look at them in the eye and just move on” or the “bluff” and say “no, I don’t have any change I can spare” even though you know you could probably spare some coin but justify it with “I’m a poor college student.”
And you know what, I don’t blame anyone who thinks that way because more often than not I think that way. What do you suppose beggars use their money for? Booze? Drugs? Sex? Probably all three at one time or another. So why should someone just give money to a beggar when they don’t know what that money is going to be used for?
I’ve thought about giving money to the homeless or even volunteering my time to help others. I’ve just never seemed to be at that point in my life where I was able to branch out and stop worrying about myself and be able to share or even give to another person. A lot of times growing up I was either too self-absorbed or just had too much going on in my life to even consider being able to help someone else when my life needed so much help.
When I moved out to New York last year, I had a job, I had a place to live and I was by myself for the most part (save for Izzie always being around and the times Adam stopped on by.) I was someone “jealous” that Adam was able to volunteer his own time to become an EMT and be able to legitimately go out and save someone’s life on a nightly basis (and all this with a full-time day job, no less!) What could lil’ ol’ me do on the week nights to stave the boredom? I had thought about going to a Human Society shelter and volunteering there a few nights a week but it turns out even shelters close for the evenings at around 4, that doesn’t work for someone who worked in a Start-up environment. The feeling of charity eventually subsided and crawled back into the abyss which is my soul to fester – *cough* I mean hibernate, and I had nearly forgotten about my desire to “give back.”
Fast forward to last night. I’ve been unemployed for almost 3 months now as I wait for my new job to start next week. I’m standing in the oral hygiene isle at CVS down the street from my apartment because I’ve seemed to run out of toothpaste although I swear I bought two tubes the last time I was out (I always seem to be running out of toothpaste, my Adam has it as a snack?) Since I’ve been unemployed for 3 months, money was getting a little tight. I had to ask my mother that same day to lend me some money so I could pay February’s rent since my job got pushed back yet another week (damn bureaucracy!) The toothpaste cost $5.99. I contemplated about getting two tubes but decided not, “that’s $16! I don’t have enough for that!” As I walked to the register with my toothpaste in hand, I spent a couple minutes looking at the Valentine’s candy that was on display and picked out a bag of “fun-size” Kit-Kats (thinking about Adam, who loves the things) and heart-shaped York Peppermint Patties because I hadn’t had them in a really long time. I paid and then went home.
After chomping on a few Kit-Kats since I was starving and waiting for dinner to be done, I happened to look at the receipt that I shoved in the bag. It cost just as much for me to buy that damn candy than it would have been for me to buy that other tube of toothpaste. Ugh. Why was it okay for me to spend it on an obsession (chocolate) rather than something hygienic (toothpaste?)
I began to think about all the “things” in my life that I wanted. I had realized that over the past few months as I was looking for a job I had begun making lists of “things” I wanted to be able to afford after I started making money again. New wheels for my car to replace the ones that were stolen, a new iMac so I could have more computing power for the things I wanted to do, even a doggy seat belt for Izzie because it would make my life easier just to hook her up to that than lug around her obtuse kennel around on day trips. I began to felt guilty for my desire for “things” that I had developed rather than enriching experiences in my life.
I told you that story to tell you this one.
Tonight I was waiting for my train from White Plains into Grad Central. As I walked on to the platform, a middle-aged man who looked and acted like he may have been slightly mentally disabled asked me for a dollar. I lied and said I didn’t have any cash on me. I sat down and watched as he walked on down and asked someone else for change. Instead of what I had said earlier, he said “Where are you going? Are you going to buy a ticket with it?” and instead the guy said, “no I wanted to by food.” I couldn’t really hear the end of the conversation but it ended with the beggar hitting the elevator button to go downstairs. There is a little food mart downstairs, perhaps he got money from the guy and went downstairs to get something to eat. Or, he could have gotten nothing and instead of asking someone else who heard that exchange and would likely not give him money, went downstairs to wait it out until a new crowd moved in to the platform.
I took notice from the guy who answered the beggar’s request for money. Instead of just giving him something to go away he actively engaged him and asked him what he needed. If he needed a train ticket, would he spend the $8 to get him on his way? Would he walk the man downstairs and purchase him a sandwich to fill his empty belly? I was inspired and felt, “you know what, if faced with that decision again, that is what I am going to do instead!”
I should have learned in the past that when I make promises to myself like that I am very quickly confronted by God/Fate/karma to test me. Tonight, my friend Sloan and I were walking out of The Bitter End after having a mediocre beer while listening to a mediocre band. As we decided to call it a night, a man walked up to us and asked if we could spare any change. I shook my head and asked him, “What do you need?” He told me he wanted to buy some food. I told him that I would buy him food instead of giving him money. ‘Lo and behold, a food truck was sitting just a few dozen feet away, open for business. I asked him what he wanted and he pointed to the #6 juicy cheeseburger.
As he ordered up another beggar he knew from the streets, walked up to him to say hello, also not wasting a moment to try and get a few bucks from us. Boy, God/Fate/karma was really pushing it tonight! I can’t remember exactly what was said but I agreed to buy him a burger too instead of giving him the money (he looked obviously drunk.) While we waited for the burgers to cook, the drunk beggar walked away, I’m assuming to use a restroom, but later thinking it might have been because I was pressing the other guy about why he was begging and what was going on in his life, looking back he might not have wanted me to ask him that.
The first beggar was very enthusiastic. He was missing a tooth or two at the front of his mouth but it didn’t keep him from smiling at us as we talked. He told us about how he was 5 months sober and began to recite the age-old mantra of the AA meetings as he pulled out his membership coins. I’m not all too familiar with what goes down at an AA meeting but I think I’ve seen enough shows and soap operas to glean that a coin is for a certain time period that you’re clean. He had two. He explained that this was his second time trying the AA thing and that he had relapsed a year or two before. He told us about the different half-way homes he had tried to live in and about how his things were stolen at one of them.
It was at this time that a young woman approached us with a cardboard sign about how her boyfriend dumped her and threw her out on the street so he could live with his new play thing. (Okay, so third time’s the charm, God?) She looked extremely tired, she was pretty lucid so I don’t think the look was from drugs. I also asked her if she was hungry, she declined and said someone else had already given her a sandwich.
After what seemed like an eternity, the burgers were done and the other beggar showed up to claim it. At least the first beggar was nice enough to chat with us while we waited to give him his food. The men grabbed their packages and immediately dug in and we said our good-byes and they blessed us with a couple hugs as we wished them to stay warm for the night.
I still don’t know if what I did was the “right” thing to do because I don’t know if those men or women were who they said they were (homeless) or if they were users out to make an easy buck. For all I know they will just go back to begging and never find the strength to find a proper living. However, I have decided that it was the right decision for me to make for myself at that time to try and do something different than to just ignore the situation.

Tonight I spent $12 to buy two beggars on the street food. I’ve never done that before. What on Earth would possess me to do that?

Before I answer that question, I’ll preface it with some explanation.

I lived in downtown-”ish” Boston for the better part of 5 years while I studied for my undergraduate degree. While walking to and from different places (some say you can get to anywhere in Boston by walking in about 15 minutes) you tend to meet some interesting people. Especially around the liquor store right on the edge of campus which also happened to be right next to a half-way house (yes, that sounds like a very good idea to me!) Over the years I’ve perfected the “don’t look at them in the eye and just move on” or the “bluff” and say “no, I don’t have any change I can spare” even though you know you could probably spare some coin but justify it with “I’m a poor college student.”

And you know what, I don’t blame anyone who thinks that way because more often than not I think that way. What do you suppose beggars use their money for? Booze? Drugs? Sex? Probably all three at one time or another. So why should someone just give money to a beggar when they don’t know what that money is going to be used for?

I’ve thought about giving money to the homeless or even volunteering my time to help others. I’ve just never seemed to be at that point in my life where I was able to branch out and stop worrying about myself and be able to share or even give to another person. A lot of times growing up I was either too self-absorbed or just had too much going on in my life to even consider being able to help someone else when my life needed so much help.

When I moved out to New York last year, I had a job, I had a place to live and I was by myself for the most part (save for Izzie always being around and the times Adam stopped on by.) I was someone “jealous” that Adam was able to volunteer his own time to become an EMT and be able to legitimately go out and save someone’s life on a nightly basis (and all this with a full-time day job, no less!) What could lil’ ol’ me do on the week nights to stave the boredom? I had thought about going to a Human Society shelter and volunteering there a few nights a week but it turns out even shelters close for the evenings at around 4, that doesn’t work for someone who worked in a Start-up environment. The feeling of charity eventually subsided and crawled back into the abyss which is my soul to fester – *cough* I mean hibernate, and I had nearly forgotten about my desire to “give back.”

Fast forward to last night. I’ve been unemployed for almost 3 months now as I wait for my new job to start next week. I’m standing in the oral hygiene isle at CVS down the street from my apartment because I’ve seemed to run out of toothpaste although I swear I bought two tubes the last time I was out (I always seem to be running out of toothpaste, my Adam has it as a snack?) Since I’ve been unemployed for 3 months, money was getting a little tight. I had to ask my mother that same day to lend me some money so I could pay February’s rent since my job got pushed back yet another week (damn bureaucracy!) The toothpaste cost $5.99. I contemplated about getting two tubes but decided not, “that’s $16! I don’t have enough for that!” As I walked to the register with my toothpaste in hand, I spent a couple minutes looking at the Valentine’s candy that was on display and picked out a bag of “fun-size” Kit-Kats (thinking about Adam, who loves the things) and heart-shaped York Peppermint Patties because I hadn’t had them in a really long time. I paid and then went home.

After chomping on a few Kit-Kats since I was starving and waiting for dinner to be done, I happened to look at the receipt that I shoved in the bag. It cost just as much for me to buy that damn candy than it would have been for me to buy that other tube of toothpaste. Ugh. Why was it okay for me to spend it on an obsession (chocolate) rather than something hygienic (toothpaste?)

I began to think about all the “things” in my life that I wanted. I had realized that over the past few months as I was looking for a job I had begun making lists of “things” I wanted to be able to afford after I started making money again. New wheels for my car to replace the ones that were stolen, a new iMac so I could have more computing power for the things I wanted to do, even a doggy seat belt for Izzie because it would make my life easier just to hook her up to that than lug around her obtuse kennel around on day trips. I began to felt guilty for my desire for “things” that I had developed rather than enriching experiences in my life.

I told you that story to tell you this one.

Tonight I was waiting for my train from White Plains into Grad Central. As I walked on to the platform, a middle-aged man who looked and acted like he may have been slightly mentally disabled asked me for a dollar. I lied and said I didn’t have any cash on me. I sat down and watched as he walked on down and asked someone else for change. Instead of what I had said earlier, he said “Where are you going? Are you going to buy a ticket with it?” and instead the guy said, “no I wanted to by food.” I couldn’t really hear the end of the conversation but it ended with the beggar hitting the elevator button to go downstairs. There is a little food mart downstairs, perhaps he got money from the guy and went downstairs to get something to eat. Or, he could have gotten nothing and instead of asking someone else who heard that exchange and would likely not give him money, went downstairs to wait it out until a new crowd moved in to the platform.

I took notice from the guy who answered the beggar’s request for money. Instead of just giving him something to go away he actively engaged him and asked him what he needed. If he needed a train ticket, would he spend the $8 to get him on his way? Would he walk the man downstairs and purchase him a sandwich to fill his empty belly? I was inspired and felt, “you know what, if faced with that decision again, that is what I am going to do instead!”

I should have learned in the past that when I make promises to myself like that I am very quickly confronted by God/Fate/karma to test me. Tonight, my friend Sloan and I were walking out of The Bitter End after having a mediocre beer while listening to a mediocre band. As we decided to call it a night, a man walked up to us and asked if we could spare any change. I shook my head and asked him, “What do you need?” He told me he wanted to buy some food. I told him that I would buy him food instead of giving him money. ‘Lo and behold, a food truck was sitting just a few dozen feet away, open for business. I asked him what he wanted and he pointed to the #6 juicy cheeseburger.

As he ordered up another beggar he knew from the streets, walked up to him to say hello, also not wasting a moment to try and get a few bucks from us. Boy, God/Fate/karma was really pushing it tonight! I can’t remember exactly what was said but I agreed to buy him a burger too instead of giving him the money (he looked obviously drunk.) While we waited for the burgers to cook, the drunk beggar walked away, I’m assuming to use a restroom, but later thinking it might have been because I was pressing the other guy about why he was begging and what was going on in his life, looking back he might not have wanted me to ask him that.

The first beggar was very enthusiastic. He was missing a tooth or two at the front of his mouth but it didn’t keep him from smiling at us as we talked. He told us about how he was 5 months sober and began to recite the age-old mantra of the AA meetings as he pulled out his membership coins. I’m not all too familiar with what goes down at an AA meeting but I think I’ve seen enough shows and soap operas to glean that a coin is for a certain time period that you’re clean. He had two. He explained that this was his second time trying the AA thing and that he had relapsed a year or two before. He told us about the different half-way homes he had tried to live in and about how his things were stolen at one of them.

It was at this time that a young woman approached us with a cardboard sign about how her boyfriend dumped her and threw her out on the street so he could live with his new play thing. (Okay, so third time’s the charm, God?) She looked extremely tired, she was pretty lucid so I don’t think the look was from drugs. I also asked her if she was hungry, she declined and said someone else had already given her a sandwich.

After what seemed like an eternity, the burgers were done and the other beggar showed up to claim it. At least the first beggar was nice enough to chat with us while we waited to give him his food. The men grabbed their packages and immediately dug in and we said our good-byes and they blessed us with a couple hugs as we wished them to stay warm for the night.

I still don’t know if what I did was the “right” thing to do because I don’t know if those men or women were who they said they were (homeless) or if they were users out to make an easy buck. For all I know they will just go back to begging and never find the strength to find a proper living. However, I have decided that it was the right decision for me to make for myself at that time to try and do something different than to just ignore the situation.

Tags:

Squadron Scramble Redux

Oct 2

Posted by Rachel in Ruby & Rails | 1 Comment

I’ll apologize to Brandon first for writing this because I am sure when he reads this blog post he will roll his eyes or puke at the thought of me brining this up.

My junior CSU670 “Software Development” class with Matthias Felleisen at Northeastern will forever be one of the most tortuous ordeals I will have ever lived though – but also probably the most rewarding. To this day, I still wake up from nightmares of me sitting at one of the Solaris boxes in the CCIS computer labs talking with other classmates and they ask me what other classes I am taking that semester; lo and behold I can’t even remember one of the 3 or 4 other classes I am supposed to be taking that semester, all I can think about is Software Dev and that I LIVE in this computer lab!

After passing the class from hell, a few of my friends and I made a pact of sorts that we would (one day) continue on with our code from the class and improve on it, because it really was probably one of the largest projects we had ever worked on.

If you have never heard of Squadron Scramble, no worries, I don’t think anyone in the class had ever heard of the game either. It’s a rummy style game but you use aircraft cards with aircrafts from World War II (oh, so appropriate since our professor is German.) Our class rules were modified from the original game, but the basic premise is that you collect three of an aircraft type and can use that to “shoot down” other aircraft trios with a few other wild cards thrown in for good measure.

We were required to pick a programming language and work in pairs and practice paired programming. I had mixed results in past course with paired programming but in this course it was absolutely critical that you have a well functioning team to carry out each week’s assignments, otherwise you would be behind for next week’s tasks because every week built on the weeks before it.

The tasks finally built up to us creating our own game server and administration as well as clients to connect to our server and other student team’s servers. We also had to create dumb artificial intelligence and come up with “player” strategies to try and beat each other with our “players.” And this was all using ugly XML syntax and we were only allowed to use the aging and severely out-dated Solaris machines. We also had to come up with a GUI interface, and did I mention that yes, it all had to work on the grossly out-dated Solaris machines?! That means using Tcl/Tk instead of all the new flashy goodness of anything else developed within the last decade.

With that said and done, my buddy, Ventz, asked me earlier this week if I had time to develop a Ruby client and server and bring the project back to life. My one request was that instead of XML we use JSON instead to make our lives easier. He was going to take a stab at re-writing a Perl version of the code and hopefully get a few other ex-CSU670ers to chip in a Java version and whatever other version they’d want to contribute. My first task is probably to write out a proper spec and improve upon on some of the universally despised guidelines in Matthias’ original spec.

If you’re interested in seeing the final code I wrote in the class, hop on over to my Subversion repository: http://svn.rachelober.com/csu670/ I think this is pretty much the final version of the code that I submitted in the class. I’m almost certain this will not run on anything unless you can get your hands on one of CCIS’ old Solaris servers (which have since been “taken out back” and summarily assassinated,) but I’ll add a disclaimer anyway that the code is provided “as-is” and under no warranty. If it screws up something on your system when you try to run it, sucks for you!

Maybe one day we’ll get some kind of game server to run and we can all play some crappy aircraft card game over the internet.

Tags: , , ,