Archive for November, 2006

Sticky Security… or lack thereof

Wednesday, November 29th, 2006

/sigh

I just worked on a co-worker’s laptop that had mail server IP addresses and his Windows domain account passwords taped to it.

Passwords. Taped. To. Laptop.

I’m amazed I let him walk out alive. That’s just ridiculous.

At the chalkboard again…

Tuesday, November 21st, 2006

I will SAVE my game after leaving a town.
I will SAVE my game after leaving a town.
I will SAVE my game after leaving a town.
I will SAVE my game after leaving a town.
I will SAVE my game after leaving a town.

I learned a very important lesson last night whilst playing FFIII: Quicksaves are not really Saves.

After the first hour or so of playing on Sunday, I apparently decided to use the Quicksave feature and continue the next day. Last night, after dying, I realized that I hadn’t actually ‘Saved’ yet. All my progress (granted, only a couple hours) was gone. I’d be upset about losing that time, but before I even started I’d heard that the game is a 60-70 hour journey… If it takes me until Joey graduates from high school to finish, so be it.

May you all learn from my mistake! SAVE!

Final Fantasy III, Finally!

Monday, November 20th, 2006

I stopped by Target last night and picked up FFIII. Oh, to hear that music again.

I think I’ve played for about an hour so far. It’s looking really fun. Feels like it’ll be fairly difficult – which will be great! I’m looking forward to the rest of the characters joining my party. So far, it’s simply Luneth.

The nice thing about it (and this is really a praise for the DS itself) is that the gameplay is totally interruptible… Mar needs me to do something? Pop the DS closed and come back later.

27 things I love about my wifey on her 27th birthday

Saturday, November 18th, 2006
  1. You chase God.
  2. You’re sweet to the point of reputation.
  3. You pretend to wear Joey’s pajamas.
  4. You’ve become quite the home-maker (not house-cleaner, home-maker!)
  5. You’re often cold and cuddle-ready.
  6. You scratch my head.
  7. You don’t put up with my laziness.
  8. You make great desserts!
  9. You admit having a carseat fetish.
  10. You have the cutest little feet.
  11. You’re a wonderfully loving, guiding, fun-hunting mother to our children.
  12. You look adorable while you play Brain Age.
  13. You do ‘photoshoots’ with our kids.
  14. You’re not afraid to get on your knees when you sing that you’re on your knees!
  15. “These lips? I’ve had them for years. I can’t do anything with them.”
  16. You’re not afraid of tech.
  17. You’ll prepare foods you don’t like – just for me.
  18. You know overcast days cheer me up.
  19. You’re known for your web researching skills.
  20. You change a tire faster than me.
  21. You forgave me for not remembering the first time we met.
  22. You’re giving our kids the love of books.
  23. You put up w/ my odd taste in music.
  24. You’re endlessly forgiving.
  25. You need me to hold you during the ’scary movie’ commercials.
  26. Your smile.
  27. You said yes.

That which he hears

Friday, November 17th, 2006

I recently learned something very important about retention in my son’s life at this point:

It happens.

I think Martha had gone out to do some shopping or was in the shower… I don’t remember exactly. Joey, Abby, and I were entertaining ourselves in the living room. On my way into the kitchen to do some dishes, I started up Songbird to play some music (FFVIII Piano Collection).

After 15 minutes or so, I turned to find Joey sitting at the computer, ‘chair-dancing’ and pretending to use the mouse.

“Play pew-er, Da-y. Play pew-er!”

“Are you playing computer?”

“Yeah.”

I dried off my hands and wandered over to play with him for a while. We clicked a few random songs and then ended up on the Songbird homepage. He quickly spotted the screencast and instructed me to click on it. It’s basically a ‘this is songbird, here’s feature a, it can also do feature b’ kinda thing. At one point, the narrator says ’songbird’ in a distinctive, movie trailer-ish way… it made me chuckle. Joey imitated him and we both laughed. It’s a hoot to hear a two year-old attempt (and mostly pull off) speaking in a deep, dramatic voice.

I forget what we did after that, but I’d thought nothing of it until he said it again in the bathtub last night.

“Songbird” he said, complete w/ furrowed eyebrows and dramatic depth.

Fathers beware.