Synology DiskStation DS413 Issues
Trying to copy all of the files off of my GoPro onto the DS413 DiskStation, and it doesn't seem to be working properly.
It shows 3.7 TB used, and 4.3 TB free, for a total of 8 TB. But, when I try to copy the files onto it, it doesn't seem to be working.
Go to http://find.synology.com/
IP address is 192.168.2.4.
I don't see anything in here that indicates there is a problem. Hmmmm.
The Bike in the Parking Lot
In the morning, I call the maggots at Westerra Credit Union. Those rotten motherfuckers hung me out to dry. In a big way.
The conversation went something like this.
"Can you please explain to me why both my personal and corporate debit cards are being declined when I have $50K in both accounts?"
"Well...let's have a look here....It looks like there was a suspicious transaction...a charge for $450 on Friday....did you make that charge?"
"How in the fuck should I know?"
"Were you traveling?"
"I travel all the time. You can look at my account and see that. I fly twice a week. Who in the fuck are you to cancel my credit cards. Do you know how bad you fucked me? You canceled both of my credit cards on Friday when I tried to settle up with a man for $450, then you closed for business for 3 days straight. And there's no phone number for me to call while you're closed. Isn't that right? DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW BAD YOU FUCKED ME?!!!! I was in San Francisco, with no money. For 3 days. While your fucking bank was closed. God Dammit!"
"Well, the transaction was suspicious..."
"In what way? I travel every week. You can check my account and see that."
"I have enabled your debit card, so it should be working normally."
"What about my corporate debit card? What's going on with that one?"
"We sent you a new card, and you didn't activate it, so we canceled this card."
"How in the fuck does that make any sense? My card says it expires 10/17. That's a year form now. So, my card says it's still good."
"We sent you a new card, but you didn't activate it...."
"I'm sure you do a much better job of opening your mail than I do, since you're not flying twice a week."
"Is there anything else we can help you with?"
"You can activate my God Dammned corporate debit card. And also, I want you to schedule a cash withdrawal. I'm going to be in your bank on Friday, and I'm taking out $20K in cash. In fifties."
"Have a nice day sir.'
"Go fuck yourself."
I spend all day trying to load data into a couple of tables. Something that should take me about 10 minutes if I had a half a brain. Everyone else has left when I finally leave at around 8:00 p.m.
The nice thing about getting in early and working late is, you don't have to hunt for your bike in the parking lot.
The nice thing about the bike is you don't wonder who's side he's on. He's all in. All the way. Ready to go. Like...the bike can solve a lot of problems. Like, when nothing else makes sense, the bike is a long lost friend. I get on the bike and leave the parking lot.
At work, they call out the CEMLI's like a bing game. "713...who has 713?"
"That's me..." someone replies.
Like...seriously? Who in the fuck goes around with a basket of 3 digit numbers in their head. I can't find the house I stay in without a GPS.
It's hard to admit, but my riding has deteriorated along with my mental abilities. Truth be known, I've had many close calls lately. And not just from lane splitting at triple digits. Obviously, that's suicidal.
But my normal riding has deteriorated as well. Like...I turn around to do something on the bike, and forget that I'm driving down the road. Like...you think I"m making that up, but I'm not really. Something isn't quite right. And, when you're riding through 6 lanes of traffic, small mistakes have big consequences.
I'm not sure how much longer I'll be able to hold out. I mean, yeah....I can still do the work that they give me....but it's so much harder than it ever used to be.Categories:
Swinging for the Fences
So, I come into work first. I get in here early on a Monday. Prolly it's 8:30 a.m. when I roll in and the parking lot is packed. Huh. That's something I never expected. That means that most of the poeple on the project live here. Interesting. Because I thought we were all commuting. Apparently not.
In any event, I'm sort of trying to load in my data and get everything done. Like...I picked up a new little task on Wed or Thursday of last week. It's a technical assignment and I'm supposed to be functional. But I'm like...."If you need me to load the data, I can load it..." and like...we're under the gun in a big way. And they're like....here....load these tables. Pronto.
So, I write some SQL and start shoving data into tables with fairly good result.
Only, they keep saying that it should be in a different environment..one I don't have access to. And I should request it.
So, finally, today, I request access to the environment. Full-on access to destroy the most pristine database they've ever created. The name is Gold. And, it goes to the security guy, and then to my boss, and my boss's boss. Like...I'm really swinging for the fences here. Like....I'll help you if you need help....but you've got to give me access to load the data. And that means you've got to give me the access to destroy the system you created, essentially.
Oh. And the reason I look tired is because I drove a KTM from SF to LA on Saturday going triple digits. And I was lane-splitting the I-210 at triple digits for 40 miles. So...yeah.
And then, the eamil comes through. Permission granted. Go do it. Make it happen.Categories:
100 miles before noon - The San Joaquin Valley (SF to LA)
Like, I always think that I like San Francisco until I actually get here, at which point I want to kill myself with a rusty knife. Like, the city is so loud...you just can't get away from it. Ever. Like, the city is this fucking echo chamber of sirens and car alarms and homeless people cursing, rooting around the in trash cans for God knows what. Like...it's basically hell on earth. I think that anyone that lives here needs to have their head examined. I mean, sure...it's a nice place to spend a day or two, but after that, Lord God I want to run for the hills. It's so loud and crowded and...ugh.
I wake up, check out the hostel, and drive around taking pictures. Stop to shoot treasure Island and then drive to Oakland and fill up.
At the Oakland gas station, I put my license plate back on the bike. (I never have plates when I'm in San Francisco, for a lot of reasons I won't go into.) Set my trip meter, oil the chain in the parking lot, and check to make sure the engine has oil in it. Like, I'm not a mechanic, but you have to do a few things or you're going to have a bad time.
Like, I really, really, really can't afford for anything to go wrong at this point. I have a couple hundred dollars in my pocket, and if I can't make it to LA on this, I'm screwed 9 ways from Sunday.
My general plan when I'm riding is to get up and drive 100 miles before noon. This comes from years of riding. You have to get up, get out of bed, and get on the road so that you've covered 100 miles before you stop for lunch. If you don't, then you're not going to make much progress.
Today, I hit 100 miles at 11:30 a.m., so I'm making pretty good time. My plan is to escape from the city, drive east on I-580, and then turn south on I-5. Just run through the San Joaquin Valley like a wild man.
At 11:30 a.m., I stop for gas, food, and hit the restroom in Santa Nella. There's a sign on the bathroom door that says "Do You Want Company?" I am afraid to ask what it means.
I've never driven down I-5, to the best of my recollection. The The San Joaquin Valley (aka the central valley) is not much to look at. It alternates between desert and irrigated farmland.
The speed limit is 70 mph, but I run between 90-100 mph for hours on end. Why? I don't really know. I think I just wanted to get back to the LA basin. But, there is some concern that, if I get stopped by the pigs, I'm royally hosed. I only see them stop 2 people all day though. And, I seriously am just running 90-100 all day long, no joke.
Finally, the The San Joaquin Valley does come to and end. As we go south, we finally start climbing out of the Central Valley down at a place called Grapevine, CA.
Once we hit I-210 east, it's just a nightmare of traffic. I should have taken 138 through Lancaster to bypass this noise. But, we're just lane-splitting at triple digits because, after a while, why the fuck not, right? Like...I don't really care if I live or die. I just want to make it back to Riverside for God's sake.
Finally, I roll into March Air Reserve, CA at about 5:00 p.m. on fumes. Go back to my place in Mission Grove, get a shower, and crash for the night. I'm not sure what I'm going to do at this point, but I'm very glad to have the KTM back in Riverside. I'm really hesitant to take it away from here again. That was a nightmare.
The Ontario Airport Hotel - Your Card Was Declined
So, today, I get up and catch a flight to Oakland. Like, in the morning, I'm just sitting around the hotel. Not sure what to do.
And, I wake up and, I think about what I should do. What would make sense to do. Like...not that anyone would know. It's so hard to know.
I'm in a hotel, the Ontario Airport Hotel, that was paid for by SouthWest airlines. They say it used to be Hilton. Or a Hyatt. I forget.
Like....I'm pulled so thin here. Like a piece of straw. I need to go to San Francisco and retrieve my KTM. Lawrence, the guy from LG Motorsports in El Cerrito, called me yesterday (Thursday). And, he told me that the bike would be ready on Friday. And I'm like..."Do you mean tomorrow?" Like...my life is confusing enough already. When you talk about tomorrow, let's call it "tomorrow", not "Friday".
So, he's saying that the bike will be ready..."today". (Today is Friday). And now, I'm trying to decide what makes sense. In the morning, I work on converting some data for work. I'm online, working from the hotel. Swinging for the fences. And, the boss asks me a question in an email. I reply immediately. That looks good. To show that you're not sleepwalking through the project. That you're actually working remote when you say you're working remote.
The hotel staff keeps knocking on the door, and I don't really have a plan. Finally, I call the front desk.
"I need to get a late checkout."
"OK. I'll set your checkout for 1:00 p.m."
I beg and plead for 2:00 p.m., but to no avail.
I'm not sure what to do, so I buy a plane ticket to fly from Ontario to Oakland at 2:00 p.m., getting in at 3:00 p.m.
At some point, Lawrence calls me and says the bike is ready. That's it. I'm off. I check out of the hotel, and tell the driver that I can't wait for the shuttle if it runs every half hour. I have to get to the airport right away, if not sooner.
So, he takes me to the Ontario airport. When I get to the airport, all of the faggots at the TSA are on their lunch break and the lines are out to the curb. When lunch is over, they come back, and this time I remember to take my laptop out of my little hand bag, and the bastards in the TSA don't rape me like they normally do.
As I'm walking out to my gate, I see that there's an earlier flight leaving for Oakland, so I stop by and check with that guy.
"Dude...can I get on this flight?," I ask the gate agent.
"Yeah. Check with the people at the ticket counter...back there across from the sandwich bar."
So, I backtrack about a half a football field. Sure. No problem. They print me a boarding pass for the flight.
Now, just so we're clear, I have now bought 4 different plane tickets for this weekend, and used none of them.
And, even though I'm the last person to board the plane, it's not completely full, and I manage to swing an aisle seat (as opposed to a middle). Now, there are so many problems with the aisle seat that I won't go into them. But, getting into Oakland an hour earlier seems like a good idea.
We land in Oakland and nearly blow the tires off the plane. Now, I catch BART to the first El Cerrito station. Now LYFT to LG Motors.
Lawrence has my bike all ready to go and, really, if you want to know the truth, I can't stand not riding my bike. It's really the only thing that makes life worth living. I pay him for the work with my debit card, but it's declined So, I give him my other debit card, and it's declined also. OK. No problem. I pay him in cash. But now, I'm out of cash. And I'm in San Francisco, the most expensive city on earth. And all of my debit cards aren't working.
Now, I'm staring to get slightly worried. If my debit cards aren't working, I'm screwed. As in "royally screwed".
My next stop is at the new Apple store on Union Square. Like, my iPhone is such a pain in the ass there are no words. 40 times a minute,it wants me to enter the password and shows me my gmail account id. Of course, it looks like it wants your gmail account id, but it really wants your applied account password. However, if you put in an Apple password, there are a lot of restrictions around what the password can be, and you can't reuse one that you've used within the last year. So, basically, it means you're hosed.
So, I take my macbook air and my iPhone into the new Apple Store on Union Square and just set them down and say "I'm not leaving until you make these fucking things work," or words to that effect.
So, finally, they get the passwords reset, and I tell them that I'm going to write the password with a Sharpie on both devices just to piss them off.
Now, I have my laptop and cell phone working properly, but I have no access to my money.
Now, I wander over to Union Square, and start trying to figure out why I can't access any of my capital.
Essentially, I've got less than $500 in my personal checking account, and I've got $50K in my corporate checking account. So, what's happened is that I've slowly drained my personal checking account by flying back and forth between Denver and Ontario. Meanwhile, my corporate account has steadily increased, but, so far as I know, the card hasn't worked in years. I was surprised to even find it in my wallet.
So, I make an online transfer from my corporate account to my personal account of $10,000. But, who knows when it will go through? I date the transaction today (10/7/2016), but who knows when it will post? Today? Tomorrow? Monday? Who can tell?
I check my wallet. I have a grand total of about $86 in my wallet.
I call the credit union. I call the phone numbers on my VISA card. No one will help me. Only, I could report it stolen, if I chose to. But, as far is "why doesn't my card work when I have $500 in one account and $50,000 on the other one?", no one will even answer the phone.
So, I'm screwed. Royally screwed. I'm in the most expensive city on earth, and the sun is sinking fast, and I've got no place to stay. Now, I'm looking for a place to stay that's really, really cheap.
I find a youth hostel that, by chance, is only a few blocks away. For some reason, that makes me think that it was "meant to be". And, it's only like $55 a night. Now, granted, I'll be in a room with 5 other people, but I have enough cash in my pocket to cover it. Also, I can try to use both of my debit cards. It will be a good test.
I never stayed in a hostel until the 2nd time I drove to Alaska (on my KTM). Like, I think it's much more common/popular in Europe, than in the United States, for whatever reason. I just thought it was essentially something that meth dealers and convicts did. It never occurred to me that a) it was cheaper and b) it was acceptable and c) it was easier to meet people in hostels. But now that I find myself without any funds, I don't hesitate to consider staying in a hostel.
(The alternative is to drive all night in the dark and hope that I make it to LA on $68 in gas, and that seems like a very bad idea.)
So, I make a reservation at the youth hostel, and then go try to check in. But both credit cards are declined. Then, I try them at the ATM. Same deal. No dice.
Finally, I pay her in cash. Now, I have $24 left to my name.
I'm so screwed. So royally screwed. I've messaged everyone I know in San Francisco, and they all tell me that they're busy or out of town, except for David.
David tells me that he might can meet me for drinks later.
So, I'm driving around San Francisco, telling myself that everything will work out for the best, when really, I'm not clear that it will. I'm not clear that I'll make it back down to Los Angeles. Ever.
I drive north across the Golden Gate bridge, expecting it to be all lit up, but really it isn't lit up. At all. It has some flashing red lights on it so planes won't hit it. Other than that, it has no lights.
I'm so hungry there just aren't words, so I drive up to Fisherman's Wharf to the In and Out burger place there. I don't normally go to fisherman's wharf, as it's just an overrun tourist mecca.
But now, it seems like a cheap place to get a meal, so I roll up there, park the KTM on the street.
I place my order, and now I need the $20 bill to pay for my meal, and I'm rooting around in my wallet, looking for it. I swear I had a $20 in here. All I see are a few ones. Like...this really sucks. How is it that a grown man doesn't have enough money in his wallet to buy a meal at In and Out? Finally, I see the $20, and with a big sigh of relief, I pay for my meal. Like, this may be the last meal I ever eat. So, I scarf it all down, fries and all.
After I eat at In and Out Burger, the police suddenly fill the street. They're everywhere. Dozens of them. Apparently, a guy was spotted walking around with a gun. Great. Just my luck. Of course, he would be strolling through Fisherman's Wharf when I was there. Just my luck.
David messages me and says that they're out for drinks in the Mission. So, I roll down there and meet them in the Mission. Two couples.
"Dude...you have to buy me a beer. I..uh...don't have any money. I'll explain later..."
So, David buys me several drinks. At some point, I explain to him that I'm basically flat broke. That I only have a few dollars to my name, even though I have $50K in my checking account.
"How much money do you need to get to Los Angeles?" he asks.
"I figure....$300 at the outside..." I reply. Like, that covers my gas, food, and one night stay in San Luis Obispo.
After a few drinks, we leave and go to an ATM. David takes out $300 in cash and hands it to me.
Lord, God I needed that. It looks like things are looking up. :)
Like, I should be able to make it back to Riverside, and, on Monday, at the latest, I should be able to call my bank and tell them that I'm closing my fucking accounts if they won't give me access to my goddamned money.Categories:
Under The Rainbow - The Ontario Airport Hotel
But my bike is broken down in Oakland. Or Emeryville. Or Berkeley. Somewhere up there.
So, since my bike is up there, I have to rent a car, and it's just miserable.
Like, it's hard to hard to describe how horrible the car rental business is, really. Like, it's just so low. I suspect there are drug dealers, hit men, and prostitutes with stronger convictions and morals that these demons.
I rent a mini-van from Ace Car Rental. Turns out that they're not at the same rental car location with all of the other rental cars. So, I take the shuttle to the rental car building, and they're not there. Freaking great. Now, I'm calling the rental car agency, and they send a shuttle to pick me up.
Now, there are no advantages to renting a car. It's like sticking your hand into a meat grinder, pretty much. Basically, it works like this. You rent a car, and now, when you go out into the parking lot, you not only forget where you parked, but now, you forget what you're driving. Every time you try to drive it, it's like you're learning to drive all over again. The shifter is in a different place. AC. headlights. Everything changes with each car rental. It's like a 7th level of hell.
Suddenly, it's Thursday and time to return to Denver, so I take the rental car and drop it off. Good riddance. They take me back to Ontario and now, I'm waiting for my flight to Denver. Then, on Saturday, I'll fly to San Francisco and pick up the motorcycle. Then, I'll drive the bike back to LA. I mean, it's not much of a plan, but it's the best I could come up with.
So, we board the plane in Ontario, but now they can't figure out how much fuel is in the plane. Something's not right. So, we all get off of the plane and sit there for 5 fucking hours while they try to figure out what's going on with the plane.
I can't really decide what to do. There's no real reason for me to go to Denver at this point. Finally, I tell them that I want out. I don't want to fly to Denver. Instead, I want them to put me up in a hotel, and send me to the hotel in a shuttle. And, now, instead of flying to Denver today, I've decided that I want to fly to Oakland tomorrow.
So, they book me on a flight to Oakland tomorrow. Like....this is all very confusing. I'm trying to minimize my costs. And, returning my rental car, not flying to denver, and staying in a hotel for free seems like the cheapest way to go. Tomorrow, I'm taking a chance by flying to Oakland, but if my bike is ready, then it will all work out. And, if my bike isn't ready, then I can hang out in San Francisco for Fleet Week.
Like....I struggle with these things. Where should I spend my weekend? It's both a blessing and a curse.
All of the other people finally board the plane and fly away. And now I'm still here at the airport, trying to decide what to do.
"Can y'all put me up in a hotel for the night?"
"Not without an active ticket we can't..."
"Then book me on a flight to Oakland tomorrow."
And now, I'm in a shuttle to the Ontario Airport Hotel. The plan is now to spend the night in the hotel, work from the hotel in the morning, then shuttle back to the airport, then fly to Oakland, catch the BART/Lyft up to the motorcycle, and pray that it's ready tomorrow afternoon.
Then, I'll catch Fleet Week in San Francisco, and drive the bike back to Los Angeles over the weekend.