1. How much time do you spend online each day?
As I’m online at work… 8-10 hours, I guess.

2. What is your browser homepage set to?
At work: nettavisen, on the laptop and at home to my own index page.

3. Do you use any instant messaging programs? If so, which one(s)?
Msn (msn at sandlund dot net). I’m listed on ICQ as well, but I’ve deinstalled it as it took up too much processing power and msn is enough…

4. Where was your first webpage located?
At the University of Trondheim student server. The address was something like http://www.stud.ntnu.no/~ragsan, though this was before the university changed its name to NTNU, so I assume it must have been avh-something… Way back when, this was – I think I set up my first webpage in the autumn of 1995.

5. How long have you had your current website?
I moved from virgin.net’s server to my own domain when I moved back to Norway, so… autumn 2001 – about two years. It’s had its current design only since this spring, though.

I have a crisis – possibly a major crisis, but at least an urgent crisis – on my hands and I don’t care. Or at least, I can’t concentrate on caring long enough to do much about it. It’s all His fault. Falling in love should qualify as a disease so you could get sickleave. It’s certainly debilitating.

Voice in my head: Patsy Cline, she keeps singing “I’m in love, I’m in love with a wonderful guy, that’s what’s the matter with me” which is too true for words, but then she continues “I’m in love, I’m in love with a wonderful guy, but he don’t care about me” which is – allegedly – not right, so I keep having to make her stop and go back. It would probably be easier to concentrate if she were right, actually. Not that I’m really complaining, you know, quite the contrary, really. My employer might, though.

Update: She’s started singing “she don’t care about me” now, which makes no sense whatsoever. Perhaps she’s annoyed with me for trying to correct her all day.

I want one. Just to be able to enact Punk Princess’ idea, of course. I know I have a Ken doll somewhere. I also have a Galvatron figurine, but I suspect the thought of being married off to Galvatron would distress the Bush less than being married off to Ken. But I do have the perfect wedding dress for him. Oh yes.

Consume less than one drink per hour. Your liver breaks down alcohol at the rate of about a beer an hour, so spreading out the drinking over the course of an evening will lessen the likelihood of a hangover. (From So You Wanna – the avoid a hangover section.)

I thought it was one unit per hour. Is American beer really that weak?
Read More

I am tuning a database. Problem is, to check whether something has helped or not, I have to run the bit that runs slowly. And it still does, so I keep having to wait around for 20 minutes (yes, it’s a BIG database) to see whether I’ve improved matters or made them worse.

Never mind.

At least I have something to look forward to today (not that that’s unusual, lately) as I’m meeting Andreas (juhu! it’s been way too long) and the boyfriend (d’you think I should start calling him Martin or is ‘the boyfriend’ all right with you?) at The Dubliner for some food and a chat.

Voice in my head: Meredith Brooks – Bitch

…and I am a coffeeoholic. Or whatever. I am drinking double-strength instant this morning and I have just taken a sip and thought “this doesn’t taste anything at all”. This can’t be normal.

There is always the coffee-shop downstairs. Mmm. Double espresso. Mmm. Quadruple espresso…

Update: I think I might be in the process of giving myself caffeine poisoning. In my defense I tried ordering two doubles but I ended up with four and I was too tired to argue.

Voice in my head: John Lennon – I’m So Tired

Is it possible to be cranky and deliriously happy at the same time? If so, that’s what I am.

I am so tired I’m nauseous. That’s why I’m cranky. This is why I’m deliriously happy.

Ok, so it’s four in the morning, I can’t sleep and so I figured I might as well have a look at that piece of code I left hanging yesterday in order to go gallavanting round IKEA with the boyfriend. Except I can’t get the VPN-connection to work, so no access to the office network and no file to work on. Damn. Damn.

I think maybe our tech-support guys would appreciate it if I refrained from phoning them now, don’t you?

I guess I’ll eat something (I’m starving) and try to sleep some more (I’m tired).

Update: It turns out they’ve locked the VPN between 11 pm and 7 am in order to prevent people unwittingly (or, I suppose, wittingly) interfering with the backups and such. I can get limited access if I promise to be careful, but somehow I think I agree with Stein’s first comment that I ought to have gone back to bed anyway.

Voices in my head: 98° and Stevie Wonder – True to Your Heart