Irka @coyoteseattle@mastodon.mechanicalmischief.com

Man, that was a good reminder of how little exercise I've been getting lately. I turned on beatsaber for the first time in a while, and was only able to get through four songs before I was too exhausted to keep playing. >_<

Grump. My favorite skirt is all covered in little lint ball things and discolored from it, and nothing I've tried, including a dedicated lint shaver, has worked to get rid of them. ;_;

I feel like this is relevant for some people on here. https://shitmyplayerssay.com/post/611816637014917120/gender-does-not-define-my-character-having-a

Okay, I just found out about the IBM TrackWrite, aka the fold-out butterfly keyboard on the Thinkpad 701. Part of me really, really wants to try to find a way to replicate it with a full-size keyboard on a modern laptop. Or just get a Thinkpad 701, and put modern guts in it.

"We have five neins of uptime!" "Don't you mean five nines?" "No, we have five sysadmins in Berlin, and all the servers just fell over."

Well. I just had someone come into the middle of an OOC conversation with a friend in an RP sim on Second Life while I had one of my robot avs on, miss that the conversation was an OOC one, and compliment me in IM on how believably I was roleplaying a robot. I'm not sure whether I should be more amused, offended, or concerned that someone thought me chatting normally was a believable robot character.

Blarf. I *just* got over a nasty flu, and now I'm sick again. >#<

Huzzah, after only a little bit of swearing, and upgrading through two intermediate versions because db migrations were failing, I was able to get my instance running on the latest mastodon. ...Maybe I should script the upgrade process, and do it more than once per year. >#> <#<

Oh, I just discovered a security vulnerability in my masto instance. Time to update to the latest release, and see if that breaks everything.

Quote of the day from my Shadowrun game: "So, how presidential-looking *is* this robot dragon?"

So, I just got an email informing me that Google is disabling all non proprietary methods of accessing mail, calendar, etc on my enterprise gsuite account. I guess it's time to migrate that domain back onto self hosted stuff.

Huh, I had one of those rare dreams I actually remember, last night.
In it, I was a robot in a Star Trek-ish themepark; not one of the cool exhibit robots, though, just, like, a robot janitor. So, I was doing the normal thing, cleaning up, dealing with asshole guests, feeling like something deep inside me was missing, resenting having to follow the orders of a theme park company just because they salvaged me, when something happened. It was one of those vague, "something cool happened, but I don't know what," things that happens in dreams, but it results in about a dozen people following as I decide, "No, I'm done with this shit, I don't care if the law says I'm rogue and must be destroyed, I'm leaving."
So, we march toward the gate together, I give an, "I'm leaving to find my destiny, you all should avoid following me," speech, and then I head out. As soon as I pass the gate, security forces start scrambling, to deal with the rogue robot. Meanwhile, I get, like, fifty feet out of the gate, and, suddenly outside of the massive RF interference in the park, my brain links up with the space ship in orbit I'm from; it turns out I was actually a ship's AI, and had ejected in my robot body to try to get help after an accident left the ship in a bad enough state that I couldn't fix it on my own. My pod had crashed just outside the park, and so the company that owned it was like, "Oh, free robot," when they found me mildly damaged, and grabbed me.
Anyway, as I was having this revelation, park security was just emerging into the parking lot. They were getting ready to shoot me and the people who had come with me despite me saying not to, when all of a sudden a beam of light shot down out of the sky, burning a semi-circle in the ground between my group and them. I, of course, had realized that the ship's weapons were still working. So, while the security people were still stunned from that, I got my group to run, and ran myself, while using the ship's lasers to carve, "FUCK OFF" in 20 meter, flaming letters in the parking lot, and signed it with the name they had given me, so they would know not to try to chase me.
After that, we ended up on my space ship, in another of those vague ways, and while we were working to fix it, that's when I realized what felt like it was missing all that time; a crew.
After that, things went all dreamy-incoherent, but yeah. It was an interesting dream. I don't really know why I felt like posting about it; maybe I'll pretend that one day I'll actually come back and turn it into a novel, or something.