After consulting with my good friend and trusted programming advisor Evan Cofsky from The Unix Man Consulting, I have decided to learn TurboGears. TurboGears is a framework for producing Web Applications. I'm going to use it to create a Trade Journaling application for my personal trade tracking and to sell as a subscription service. I've been meaning to teach myself Python for some time now because it appears to be such a clean and powerful programming language; a language without all the complaints I have with other programming languages I've worked with (VB, Java, PERL, PHP). TurboGears seems to be a simple starting point for a web application with many of the domain-specific problems of the Web Application Environment (or lack thereof) already solved, which frees up the developer (yours truly) to focus on solving the business problems.
All that sounds well and good, but now for the problems: 1) I've never programmed with Python before. Yes, I know Relational Database and Object Oriented design as well as the next hack, but never in Python. 2) I only learned about the existence of TurboGears at about 9am on Monday (two days ago) when I rudely awoke Evan with my inspired idea of creating my trade journalling application.
So here I am 3 days later. I've gone through the install guide which made installation a total breeze, the 20 Minute Wiki screencast, and the Multiuser Todo List Tutorial. After asking Evan for some advice for choosing the underlying database ORM, I'm planning to use SQLAlchemy instead of the standard SQLObject. I'm now up to lesson 4 in splee's excellent SimpleBlog tutorial which gives plenty of practical use of SQLAlchemy. Tomorrow I plan to start my own application for tracking employee's work time.
My rather ambitious goal: to create a fully functional Time Card/Employee Tracking application in 5 days without having any previous experience with the language nor framework. Wish me luck!
Wednesday, November 29, 2006
Tuesday, November 21, 2006
Neosporin Lesson
I was playing with Wannabe (my cat) on Friday and somewhere along the way she crossed the line between play and full-metal-jacket attack cat! I promptly called the rumble to a halt and Wannabe blinked at me as if to say what's wrong with that? After a quick inspection, noting the nearly dozen bright pink & red scratches on my forearm, the answer was obvious enough. No problem, Wannabe isn't vicious, she just got carried away.
If you're familiar with cat scratches, you know that a simple surface scratch that doesn't even bleed can scar for weeks if not months if you don't treat it to proper care. After lathering my forearm with antibacterial soap (ouch) I applied Neosporin. The amazing part is that by Friday there will most certainly not be any evidence of the epic battle. It's only Tuesday and the scratches are already reduced to hairline traces of light pink with very little scabbing and virtually no scarring.
Does this make me a hero? No, but it did teach me a lesson. It may be a little painful to deal with problems today, but being proactive about applying the solution will always reduce the long-term cost, even if it's just the simple minimal attention each day. A little action each day goes a long way. Of course it doesn't sound all that profound, but it resonates with me today because I'm feeling overwhelmed at the tasks before me. It just seems like there's so much to do and that I'm so far behind that I can't possibly catch up. It's that defeatist mentality voice that occasionally insists upon being entertained; but rather than continuing the delay of action, and allowing the problems to fester, I have begun to take action. Yes, I'm getting back into the market, and I started last night. I'm also working on balancing out my days a little better so that I don't go crazy.
If you're familiar with cat scratches, you know that a simple surface scratch that doesn't even bleed can scar for weeks if not months if you don't treat it to proper care. After lathering my forearm with antibacterial soap (ouch) I applied Neosporin. The amazing part is that by Friday there will most certainly not be any evidence of the epic battle. It's only Tuesday and the scratches are already reduced to hairline traces of light pink with very little scabbing and virtually no scarring.
Does this make me a hero? No, but it did teach me a lesson. It may be a little painful to deal with problems today, but being proactive about applying the solution will always reduce the long-term cost, even if it's just the simple minimal attention each day. A little action each day goes a long way. Of course it doesn't sound all that profound, but it resonates with me today because I'm feeling overwhelmed at the tasks before me. It just seems like there's so much to do and that I'm so far behind that I can't possibly catch up. It's that defeatist mentality voice that occasionally insists upon being entertained; but rather than continuing the delay of action, and allowing the problems to fester, I have begun to take action. Yes, I'm getting back into the market, and I started last night. I'm also working on balancing out my days a little better so that I don't go crazy.
Sunday, July 23, 2006
Trading Blog URL Change
You're probably looking for The Art Of The Trade (previously known as: Mark's Trading Blog). I changed the URL to http://taott.blogspot.com/, but you'll always be able to get to it from here.
I know it's in poor taste to change the URL of a website, especially when it has begun to pick up momentum, as my trading blog has. BTW, my trading blog has had nearly 1 thousand unique visitors in 2 months of tracking, according to the hit counter. Much of that is loyal readers, and to you: thank you for your continued interest.
Please update your bookmarks. If you're interested in what personal adventures I engage in, you're welcome to check here. Thank you!
I know it's in poor taste to change the URL of a website, especially when it has begun to pick up momentum, as my trading blog has. BTW, my trading blog has had nearly 1 thousand unique visitors in 2 months of tracking, according to the hit counter. Much of that is loyal readers, and to you: thank you for your continued interest.
Please update your bookmarks. If you're interested in what personal adventures I engage in, you're welcome to check here. Thank you!
Thursday, July 06, 2006
Firecracker Returns Home
I took Firecracker out for a walk tonight. I walked her without a leash and planned to follow her home. We wandered around aimlessly for a while until she got her bearing. Once she knew where she was she took a determined course for her home. So determined that I couldn't even keep up with her. She made it around a couple corners ahead of me and I feel confident that she made her way back to her home. Of course I wanted to be there to escort her all the way to her home, but I just couldn't keep up.
Wednesday, July 05, 2006
I am the Dog Rescuer
I left my place at about 8:30 last night for a jog. I thought: why not jog up the hill into the nearby VA facility so that I can look out over much of the valley to see the various firework shows? The plan was working great, except that the boom boom started picking up a bit before the sun was really down. Let me tell you, I think I suffered some post traumatic stress disorder.
There were an unusual amount of planes in the air; probably due to the proximity of the Van Nuys airport and that it must be a very interesting view to be above all those exploding fireworks. Picture this: planes overhead with whistler firecrackers making that slow sliding, falling whistle... BOOM! Pair that with sporadic booms, pops and sizzles and you too might be fooled into thinking it’s a war zone. Perhaps it was the militarily shapeless buildings around me, or the fact that I started having flashbacks to jogging with Mike and his personal arsenal of cherry bombs, but I was suddenly motivated run from building to building with my head down!
The thing that snapped me out of it was following a sign that pointed towards “Lewis B. ‘Chesty’.” I immediately said: “nice one guys,” that must be a joke. However, upon further review, it turns out that’s not a fake name. But really, “Chesty” WTF?
Anyway, I stopped on the way back to my house at the observation level and had a rather impressive view of fountains of fire, expanding spheres of many colors and bright sparkles ascending into the pale, smokey night sky. Oddly, there were only a few other people taking advantage of this vista.
After descending the hill that I hauled my lumbering ass up just 20 minutes earlier I came across a panic-stricken medium-small German shepherd. She was across Plummer, a street far too busy for a panicked dog to be wondering about, when I called to her: “Hey buddy, come over here...” in a very assertive, yet soothing tone. There was a very large break in traffic at the time I called to her and she trotted right over to me. She was panting hard and didn’t really want to be still. She didn’t have a collar so I had to firmly wrap my arm around her soaking wet fur to keep her from spiriting away. After a moment for her to calm down and for us to get to know each other, I started heading home with her. At first I was stooped over keeping a hand on her, but eventually I convinced her to heal as she jogged with me. Yes, I felt like “the man” for establishing pack leadership within moments of meeting this upset dog. I was channeling Cesar Millan (aka, "The Dog Whisperer").
I managed to bring her in safely to my backyard and established peace between Cali, my roommate’s dog, and Firecracker. I had to give her some sort of name and Firecracker just seemed to fit. This morning when I checked on her to give her some food, she wasn’t anywhere to be seen. “Firecracker, where are you? Come here Firecracker!” and she came straight away.
There’s been a missing dog poster up in the neighborhood for a medium German shepherd, but the worried couple that came by last night were a little disappointed to discover that this shepherd was not theirs. I’ll be posting Found Dog posters later today, hoping to reunite Firecracker with her owner.
-- Mark
PS In an earlier post I mistakenly referred to the Flying Spaghetti Monster’s "hand" ... I obviously meant noodly appendage.
PPS My Trading Blog has good news, and it’s short... so go check it out!
There were an unusual amount of planes in the air; probably due to the proximity of the Van Nuys airport and that it must be a very interesting view to be above all those exploding fireworks. Picture this: planes overhead with whistler firecrackers making that slow sliding, falling whistle... BOOM! Pair that with sporadic booms, pops and sizzles and you too might be fooled into thinking it’s a war zone. Perhaps it was the militarily shapeless buildings around me, or the fact that I started having flashbacks to jogging with Mike and his personal arsenal of cherry bombs, but I was suddenly motivated run from building to building with my head down!
The thing that snapped me out of it was following a sign that pointed towards “Lewis B. ‘Chesty’.” I immediately said: “nice one guys,” that must be a joke. However, upon further review, it turns out that’s not a fake name. But really, “Chesty” WTF?
Anyway, I stopped on the way back to my house at the observation level and had a rather impressive view of fountains of fire, expanding spheres of many colors and bright sparkles ascending into the pale, smokey night sky. Oddly, there were only a few other people taking advantage of this vista.
After descending the hill that I hauled my lumbering ass up just 20 minutes earlier I came across a panic-stricken medium-small German shepherd. She was across Plummer, a street far too busy for a panicked dog to be wondering about, when I called to her: “Hey buddy, come over here...” in a very assertive, yet soothing tone. There was a very large break in traffic at the time I called to her and she trotted right over to me. She was panting hard and didn’t really want to be still. She didn’t have a collar so I had to firmly wrap my arm around her soaking wet fur to keep her from spiriting away. After a moment for her to calm down and for us to get to know each other, I started heading home with her. At first I was stooped over keeping a hand on her, but eventually I convinced her to heal as she jogged with me. Yes, I felt like “the man” for establishing pack leadership within moments of meeting this upset dog. I was channeling Cesar Millan (aka, "The Dog Whisperer").
I managed to bring her in safely to my backyard and established peace between Cali, my roommate’s dog, and Firecracker. I had to give her some sort of name and Firecracker just seemed to fit. This morning when I checked on her to give her some food, she wasn’t anywhere to be seen. “Firecracker, where are you? Come here Firecracker!” and she came straight away.
There’s been a missing dog poster up in the neighborhood for a medium German shepherd, but the worried couple that came by last night were a little disappointed to discover that this shepherd was not theirs. I’ll be posting Found Dog posters later today, hoping to reunite Firecracker with her owner.
-- Mark
PS In an earlier post I mistakenly referred to the Flying Spaghetti Monster’s "hand" ... I obviously meant noodly appendage.
PPS My Trading Blog has good news, and it’s short... so go check it out!
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