“Vista versions are organised by what people plan to do with their computer. ‘We don’t want customers to be forced into buying something that isn’t going to meet all their needs,’ said Barry Goffe, Microsoft’s director of Windows client product management.”
That’s right, Barry. That’s why there’s Apple.
But at least it’s not the S. Hands down, the S wins the “most useless line” award.
I got paid today. I can almost make rent with this paycheque alone.
Almost.
So there’s this game where you Google “[your name here] looks like” and see what comes up, and laugh at it. Here are some of the hits for me:
Sara looks like…
…only significantly lamer?
It needs a more complete adjective bank however, including such words as ”unfeeling,” “curt,” “narcissistic,” “caustic,” and “violent.”
I was sliding around and practically falling over on the crowded, jerky ride from Queens to Manhattan this morning, and one guy broke the institutional code of subway silence, smiled, and told me to grab onto his arm if I needed to. Later, one of my bosses gave me a dark chocolate bar around lunchtime, claiming he wasn’t a dark chocolate fan, and told me to enjoy. AND, on top of all that, Kevin’s dad is taking both of us to dinner this evening at Vong. What a genuinely nice day! I am feeling quite spoiled.
Plus it was payday, although that’s not so much a random kind act as expected compensation for my labor.
I left my apartment quite a bit earlier than usual, in an effort to avoid the crowd at the bus stop, and unexpectedly ran into Kevin on the subway platform.
We took the F in together. Kevin was carrying his sword, which at first looked like it could be a poster tube wrapped in blue cloth, or maybe come kind of short cane… I wonder what some of the other riders thought it was. Or maybe they’re not as inventive/retarded as me, and they just know.
Happy Valentine’s Day, all.
I schlepped a tub leftover soup to work only to be reminded upon arrival at my desk about the lunch we had scheduled at 12:15. Of course. And today was the one day I wore my embarrassing old purple-and-cream parka to work, wrongly anticipating a long, bus-less commute and a slow day.
In any case, the lunch with our sales rep from People Magazine was a great interruption to my workday, a hour-and-a-half event at Bar Americain. M. had just come back from a trip to the Grammy Awards in L.A., which she described as “kind of like a big concert,” (I’ve never been, but I’ll take her word for it) and she was already excited about her next vacation, an extended stay in Armenia and Eastern Europe. She didn’t know much about the country, and the only thing I knew much about was the genocide, so we didn’t talk too extensively about that.
We opened with an appetizer of artisanal, fresh-from-the-oven potato chips fanned around a bowl of molten bleu cheese. The bread basket featured flavorful cornbread and sweet fresh-baked rolls, and my lunch was a huge bowl of mussels soaking in a rich pesto sauce, and a serving of seasoned fries, served in a silver cup. Chefs and waiters were scurrying around the raw seafood bar behind us, which was packed most notably with two enormous whole lobsters.
At the beginning of the meal, M. produced gift bags swelling with tissue paper and additional gifts: free subscriptions to People and a few copies of the magazine, and then some hoodies from LA (the go-to city for all your fleece layering garment needs). Mine is white and littered with random graphics: a yellow-and-green eagle, gold anchors, scrolls. And rhinestones. But my Manager Matt got a sheer, skin-tight, tie-dyed grey shirt with a green spider screen-print. Perfect for casual Fridays. We all had a good laugh about that one.
Apparently these lavish client lunches happen regularly, which I guess I’ll just have to tolerate (sigh).
When I talked to my mom yesterday, she asked about the weather, and if it was likely to snow again. I said, “No, we’re done,” assuming that there might be flurries at some point, but not enough that snow would accumulate. This morning, there was more than a foot of powder outside, and NY1 was devoted to nonstop coverage of “The Blizzard of 06.”
This is such a minimal amount of snow, really (I have fond memories of that seven-feet-in-one-night incident in Buffalo during high school), except when you realize how much road, sidewalk, and walkway there is to clear. And how few places there are to put it (besides, obviously, NYC’s de facto waste dump, New Jersey).
If I wasn’t sick, I’d go out and enjoy the snow while it’s still white. By tomorrow morning, there’ll only be piles of filthy sludge left.
Mediaedge understands its employees. That’s why there’s a very large coffee-cappuccino-cocoa machine on each floor, spouting free caffeine at the push of a button. This is the first time I’ve actually seen such a generous addition to any workplace break room, and I am quite pleased. Already I’ve calculated the amount this will save on my morning coffee, money which will likely be redirected toward weekend beverage purchases, when those rare urges to spend $12 on a drink arise.
iPod passed on early this morning, due to a long-term battery-related illness. Death was painless and immediate, marked only by the brief appearance of a Warning! Low Battery! image. iPod leaves behind a flock of over 10,000 orphaned mp3 files, a box of cables, and a lightweight protective rubber outfit. Viewing by request only. Owner appreciates condolances and donations for a replacement; no flowers, please.
