Friday night round-up

Nobody sees me these days, except for the people who pop by to pick up Jeff to take him out to lunch, so I really need to make a point to write here. I'm alive, I swear; my ticket queue at work is already too large for me to ever die.

I have mixed feelings about that. I suspect I would have especially strong mixed and smelly feelings, post-mortem.

So let me cheat and give you the life in pictures, lately. I have neither the brain power for introspection nor the ability to take a straight-on shot of my current quilt, so we're just gonna have to improv here, kids.

In case of rapture, plz feed cat.

As we all know, things on the internet can be changed after the fact, so let's archive a few things relevant to the upcoming weekend:

What do you say to those who insist we cannot know the precise date of Judgment Day?

Happy 1234567890 day!

So ... how are YOU celebrating 1234567890 Day?

Need a hint? See this CNET article explaining what today is, and why only dorky sysadmins care.

It's a wholly arbitrary holiday, so I'm thinking I should do something ... random and arbitrary.

The cult of the slanket

Please hand me my cult card; I own a slanket, and now my friends have experienced it for themselves.

It's the simplest thing, really: a blanket with sleeves.  It's been a couch mainstay in cold weather ever since Adam gave it to me last year.  My inability to stay warm in the wintertime is well known, and he thought it would work well for his goofy friend who couldn't stay warm but who still wanted to work on her laptop on the couch.

ominous scawy storm clouds booga booga!

Weird. It's not spring yet, but the chickens have all gathered outside and are screaming their fool heads off while staring at the skies. Everyone in Huntsville seems to have gotten the memo that the sky is falling. However, I feel obligated to point out some obvious things amidst the frantic clucking.

The Huntsville city schools closed at 12:30 today, provoking a mad scramble among my co-workers who are parents, in order to make arrangements for all snowflakes to arrive safely home (or to the loving eyes of caregivers elsewhere). The only problem with this scenario?