![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
the status of stuff
Feb. 17th, 2004 07:04 pm1. Family situation has resolved more favorably than I had expected, hence I shall indeed be attending Escapade (barring unforeseen catastrophe).
2. I have picked up a mild but disgusting head cold. This does not constitute unforeseen catastrophe, but it does mean I am one spacey sniffly wet mess. I will endeavor not to breathe on or fondle my fellow con attendees.
3. Aha! I *finally* figured out my e-mail problem: in the thick of getting slammed with MyDoom-laden crap, I twiddled my spam filters--not wisely, but too well--and just now discovered that they were filtering out all kinds of perfectly legit mail as well. Thank jeebus I scanned through the "Probably Spam" folder before emptying it, and now all I have to do is actually *reply* to all the backlogged messages. Which will be a little complex given that my brain has been replaced with phlegm, I am doing little but blowing my nose and staring vacantly into space, and I get on an airplane in 38 hours, a timespan during which prodigies of job stuff, laundry, and packing must be accomplished.
4. Um. OK, after years of swearing that I was never getting me one of those gah-darn cellphones, no way, no how -- I, uh, finally got a cellphone. ::glaring around belligerently:: *Solely* due to responsibilities connected with aforementioned family situation, I hasten to add. My utter-novice conclusion about cellphones, after an hour of wrestling with two different instruction manuals trying to get my voicemail box set up, is -- my *god*, this thing is annoying. Fidgety, twiddley, full of complicated and non-intuitive menus (and this is a dead-simple cheapo prepaid model, I should add). It doesn't help that I've never used a cellphone in my life and am hazy on the most basic concepts (nor that, as mentioned, I have phlegm for brains today).
Um. I need to answer e-mail, don't I? Yes? Yes.
2. I have picked up a mild but disgusting head cold. This does not constitute unforeseen catastrophe, but it does mean I am one spacey sniffly wet mess. I will endeavor not to breathe on or fondle my fellow con attendees.
3. Aha! I *finally* figured out my e-mail problem: in the thick of getting slammed with MyDoom-laden crap, I twiddled my spam filters--not wisely, but too well--and just now discovered that they were filtering out all kinds of perfectly legit mail as well. Thank jeebus I scanned through the "Probably Spam" folder before emptying it, and now all I have to do is actually *reply* to all the backlogged messages. Which will be a little complex given that my brain has been replaced with phlegm, I am doing little but blowing my nose and staring vacantly into space, and I get on an airplane in 38 hours, a timespan during which prodigies of job stuff, laundry, and packing must be accomplished.
4. Um. OK, after years of swearing that I was never getting me one of those gah-darn cellphones, no way, no how -- I, uh, finally got a cellphone. ::glaring around belligerently:: *Solely* due to responsibilities connected with aforementioned family situation, I hasten to add. My utter-novice conclusion about cellphones, after an hour of wrestling with two different instruction manuals trying to get my voicemail box set up, is -- my *god*, this thing is annoying. Fidgety, twiddley, full of complicated and non-intuitive menus (and this is a dead-simple cheapo prepaid model, I should add). It doesn't help that I've never used a cellphone in my life and am hazy on the most basic concepts (nor that, as mentioned, I have phlegm for brains today).
Um. I need to answer e-mail, don't I? Yes? Yes.