i win at failing

 journal, pre-crash, writing life  Comments Off
Mar 112007
 

I've been missing in action because Telstra, in an attempt to punish me for I know not what, have decreed that I shall have only the most rudimentary and intermittent internet access. In addition to Telstra's ploy, the home network router has concocted a machiavellian1 plot to keep me away from the shinyshiny internet.2 Dial-up would be an elysian dream compared to this. I am becoming mighty familiar with the ErrorZilla page.

errorsmall.png

This makes it very difficult to read slush, and to procrastinate by surfing blogs. But never fear! I still managed to find ways to procrastinate without the internets. Yes, I know, it boggles the mind. But if the EMP of doom does arrive, it's a comfort to know that I won't necessarily be forced back to being productive. Phew, huh?

For real content, I direct you elsewhere: Justine is soliciting your thoughts: What's the best day job for a writer? Go answer, or just read the comments and discover the perfect dayjob buried in there somewhere.

  1. Why do I want to spell machiavellian with two c's? Have I seen too many misspellings? [↩]
  2. Or it's dying. Which would be the more charitable thought, since the router has never seemed malevolent before now. But given that I win at breaking networks just by walking into a room, I harbour a niggling suspicion the router is punishing me. [↩]

im in ur lifestyle, making you dependent

 journal, pre-crash  2 Responses »
Feb 252007
 

Electricity. I've always known I was dependent. But there's nothing to drive home the point quite so thoroughly as a blackout.

Last Sunday night saw my suburb (and quite a large number of surrounding suburbs) abruptly without power. All of a sudden I had nothing to do. Couldn't watch the TV as planned. That's okay, I thought to myself. I still have paper and pen, I can write by hand for a while. An hour. The power will be back on by then. Everything will be all right.

Only, it's quite dark inside at twilight. And it's quite difficult, writing by hand by the light of a single paltry candle (in red pen, to make matters worse, because my black ran out after only a couple of lines). Especially if you have eyes like mine. I ended up crouched over the candle, breathing shallowly in case I killed said candle, squinting at the paper, with the headphones of my fast-failing iPod jammed into my ears. Like a child clutching a blankie and rocking herself to sleep, I went straight for the electrical gadget still available to me. Everything, my iPod told me, would be all right.

Provided the power comes back on before the battery fails.

Luckily, it did. But today, one week later, I plug in the laptop. And as I turn away to fetch a drink of water, pop! That's not a good noise when it coincides with electricity. Neither is that smell of fried circuitry. Alas, the laptop power adaptor, she is no more. At least it's only the power adaptor, and not the laptop itself. And thanks to the wonders of modern circuit breakers, everything shut down before the dying adaptor could damage anything else with its flailing electrical currents.

Still. I'm sensing a pattern.

All y'all carry on about your business. I'll be over in the corner, offering up a sacrifice to avert the EMP of doom.

and now for something completely different random

 journal, pre-crash  Comments Off
Feb 102007
 

Phrases heard this week which make excellent catch-cries:

Goodbye, trolley people!

I caught this one on TV last night. Flicking through the channels landed me on a movie with Julie Andrews playing a Queen. Don't know why the Queen was standing in the middle of an American street with a stopped tram, but this was her parting comment to the people on said tram. And really, who cares why? It's a brilliant line. Henceforth don't be surprised if I call you trolley person when I'm feeling whimsical.

I thought no way would they keep pushing us — we needed a break. I mean, we're fat people.

One of the contestants on a reality weightloss program. Paraphrased (except for the vital phrase, namely, we're fat people). Precisely. We're fat people. We need more breaks. The logic is impeccable.

15 January 2007

 journal, pre-crash, shadow queen  Comments Off
Jan 152007
 

Revised Words: 1,163 / 1,200
Soundtrack: an awful lot of Damien Rice today.

Last night there was a comet over Krakow. Tonight there's a comet over Catalonia. In about forty minutes I'm going to see if I can't spot a comet over me, because apparently it's climbing the southern skies as of last night.

I spent today being bewitched by a new IM client. I've always been able to resist the lure of instant messaging, because none of my friends used the same protocol (thus requiring seven gazillion different logins) and because the clients I'd used, quite frankly, blow. But now I've found gaim. This could spell doom for my productivity levels. On the other hand, those of you who nudge me gently every now and then for seemingly vanishing off the face of the earth can now, potentially, see that I haven't. Win some, lose some, right?

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