It does help when you have a cool dentist. Mine has a nifty sense of humor and a nice tech who was fairly impressed with my “made it myself ’cause I was just that damm bored” tote bag.

Other things that were found amusing about me:
The fact that I had my appointment time written on my hand. (My short term memory sucks sometimes.)
My ability to give myself a french braid. (Shrug. I like to braid.)
My intrest in/knowledge of the rat pack. (It’s all Bill’s fault.)

So I figured it was time to upgrade my damm OS, and not just ’cause I’m going to be putting in an XP network at work soon and need to get a little more familiar with it all. I figure, three or four hours should be enough time to back everything up, wipe the drive, re-install ‘98, and upgrade to XP, right?

Nope.

Of course, I have really bad luck when it comes to doing this stuff without a net. So, after about 11 hours, I just say f*** it, and buy a new hard drive. (’Cause hey, I needed some practice doing *everything* from the ground up too.)

Now I have a happy new hard drive, and all is well with the universe. Well, execpt for that huge ass area over there marked “ceaseless war coverage”. The down side? Spending half of today re-installing software, importing mail, all that fun stuff.

One thing that I find really annoying, watching the war news, is the tone of amazement that some of the newsreaders have that the Iraqis are actually fighting back. One would hope (in vain, I guess) that journalists would have been a bit more skeptical of the government’s propaganda about how easy it would be to invade and take over Iraq. It’s as if people from the press and the US government are indignant that Iraqis would fight to defend their country. The nerve! Didn’t Saddam’s people get the memo explaining that they had to roll over in the face of the mightiest military machine the world has ever seen?
-Dori Smith

In a similar vein, John Perry Barlow has some thoughts. An exerpt:

I know that the only truly powerful country on the planet is continuing to manufacture the perilous, conscience-stunting myth that technology can make war relatively safe. Indeed, we are so delusional on this subject that we believe that bombing the shit out of the
Iraqis is a humanitarian act.

It’s begun. Again. The last time we did this I was 15. I feel even more hopeless and disgusted with humanity now than I did then.

I want to emigrate to the moon, or maybe just hide under my bed for a good, long time.

Current music: Blue Oyster Cult - Don’t fear the reaper.

It’s not enough that we’re becoming a nation of knee jerk, reactionary, xenophobes, but now the house of representatives is trying to dig up the bodies of fallen US solders buried in France and bring them home.

Incoherent profanity removed.

Seriously - does no one in charge get the fact that we are *becoming* the thing we have spent the last half century railing against? That eventually the world *will* come together under one banner and with a common purpose.

To get rid of us.

Because, the delusions of our leaders aside, America is not the Roman Empire, and attempts to re-create ourselves in Rome’s image are doomed to a messy failure.

Oh, and by the way - France is not the enemy. The worst enemy we have right now is our own selves. We are going to bring ourselves down and accomplish what no other nation, fanatic, or terrorist could do and we are going to do it wrapped up in a flag with a cloak of self righteousness.

…. I was quite grumpy with Harry Potter fandom. I wondered aloud where all the fanlove was when I was wrapped up in the Narnia books back when *I* was a kid. Then I started reading the books. And the fic. And I saw the movies. And lo, I couldn’t stay grumpy.

But I still wished there had been Narnia fanlove back in ‘82. This, however, is the next best thing. Narnia fic. And it’s slash.

And ok, this isn’t the first time I’ve found Narnia fic, but it’s not like there’s a lot of it floating around out there. So every time I come across some, it’s all perked up ears like my cats when I open the fridge door. (I’d say I get perky and bouncy, but it’s been too damm long a day to even *think* about being either of those things. Ugh.)

Ashcroft online, ver. 1.0 - the future is now, kiddies.

Raheli’s been online longer than just about anyone I know. She is ‘net girl. One of the perks? She remembers Back When. Back when spamcops had a sense of humor. Today’s gem is a list of things the LJ abuse team would *like* to tell people. To wit:

Dear user,
Do you hear that sound? It’s the baby Jesus, crying because of your lies.
Love,
LJ Abuse Team (Theological Psychiatrist Division)

Terry Jones applies the logic of Bush Jr. to his own neighborhood.

So I decided to wear my hair in a ponytail to work today. This was such a revelation to my co workers that not only did half the office comment on it, a good quarter of the office felt the need to pet. my. head.

Can I say how very strange this was? I have a fairly solid personal space bubble. I don’t like people standing too close to me. The list of people who get to touch me unannounced is incredibly short, but seeing as I have very grabby co-workers (hands, shoulders, arms…) and no desire (normally) to cause a scene, I mostly keep my mouth shut. Not today.

When the third person started stroking my hair in a “oh! what a nice puppy” sort of way. (Because I am not a nice puppy, I am a deeply un-socialized barn cat who will shred your arm up to the shoulder if you even think about petting me.) Then there was the jumping back and yelling to the office at large, “Gah! No touching! Jeezus christ people, I am NOT a PLUSH TOY!”

Granted, I’ve had stranger work situations. Still, it was one of those days…