Sunday. Also, "Test."

There was some question of my sanity early Sunday morning. The roommate therefore is polling my sanity. I cannot vouch for how sane other people think I am.

I was supposed to have gone to work today to get together with Snarky Lady. She was going to touch base with me on the damn database project. The end is in sight, I think. However, Grandma Cinderella told me that unfortunately she was out sick. So I poked a little bit more at what I could do, then submitted my timesheet and left. (I was about at the regular work week length of time already; there was overtime authorized for phone goons so we could get away with coming in extra too.)

On my way out, one of the random co-workers (the guy with the Hawaiian shirts who got that abused kid on the survey and we called in the Guru to retrieve the phone number because in his utter state of shock he'd neglected to write it down) asked me if Snarky Lady was going to be in. I told him she was out. He asked me if I could contact her to tell her that $DUDE had been shot in the stomach three times and was at $HOSPITAL, because he knew that she was kindly disposed toward the guy. (Yikes!)

I wound up at AZ Mills mall, given that Darkside was out with some friends when I called before work this afternoon. I wandered around, talked to Dawn, talked to amberfox (that was on headset while en route, and featured things like the badly-placed stoppage to traffic from some random cop), and wound up poking through both music and rocks. I now have my OK Go fix, and Vash now has a supplemental string of undyed howlite looped around the rearview mirror, and a full elemental-color set of different semiprecious stones stowed in the bin.

I still had time to waste before picking up the roommate. Darkside wasn't back yet. Fry's Electronics had just closed. I got dinner, then washed up at Target. I went in desiring to obtain a PS/2 keyboard for the Bigass Old Gateway and its ilk, and to blow an hour or so before heading over to the airport on the surface streets with the window down and the stereo cranked.

I came out with, well... ( Technology. )

I'd likely get a debugger error, incidentally. I realized after I was done that I had left something out from the example I'd been copying. It's been on my mental list of "things I want" in the "and a pony" category, but then I noticed that a) they're no longer pony-priced, and b) this upcoming month is one of the odd-months-out for insurance.

Magic, in various forms.

Regarding the hissstorical fic, chapter 1: I have up through note 16 fixed. Glee!


A particularly bad example of social-networking spelling conventions. Much hilarity. Who also inspired the following groaner, taken out of context, from the-Sith: "If the antisocial UNIX geek talks to people via pine and ircii instead of in person, is she hiding in her shell?"


The common term for the quantifiable broadly agreed-upon factors of life is "consensus reality", right?
So the opposite of that is "non-con."

k'hest. (Regret, by definition, comes too late.)

John M. Ford is dead.

I would have liked the chance to meet him. I got to know his writing through Star Trek. After How Much for Just the Planet? I was charmed. The tale of life in the Klingon Empire impressed me mightily. After Growing Up Weightless, he made it onto my (very exclusive) Buy On Sight author list.

...I'm going to go back to bed now.