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As I listened to NPR and watched CNN (my daily dose of politically oppositional news), something occurred to me.

Specifically, something about the way we've been intently watching to see if maybe, just maybe, the US government could have been aware that terrorists were about to fly planes into buildings.

What occurred to me is this: Does it really matter? Honestly, if the government had known and had taken steps to prevent it, would we have believed it?

One of my favorite TV shows (Dark Angel) has been cancelled for next season.

I'm not typically moved to mobilization over a television show, but the last episode sparked something revolutionary, and I was really looking forward to seeing where it went.

So, play along with me. Maybe a grassroots save-our-show campaign might actually work. Maybe not. It sure would be a nice improvement to Fox's planned appallingly bad fall lineup. Whatever happened to their whole "please take us seriously; we're a real network" thing?

Here are some links:

to send a postcard or email

to sign a petition

to vote in a poll

get addresses and such

I dreamt last night that I had to go to a ridiculous meeting with this fluffy marketing company. And for some reason this company was in DC (which I'm pretty sure it isn't). Everyone was desperately stupid, probably blinded by the brightly colored furniture. And the fluffy marketing company was insisting that we (an entity which remained quite undefined) needed to build this product all in Flash 50. It was absolutely critical, despite the fact that no one had Flash 50 installed on their computers except the people at the fluffy marketing company who were, at least, all using macs.

I, realise of course, that there is no such thing as Flash 50. Which was the point, I suppose. I think the point was something to the effect of "marketing companies are frighteningly pretentious". The dream was some sort of cobbled cautionary tale. Perhaps.

And then it rained. I went outside and was drizzled on and lost, then finally found myself outside a strip of fascinating vegetarian restaurants, where I cowered under an awning until the rain finally just poured down and the sky was solid water.

All of this apparently (as the end of the dream would have you believe) was part of some elaborate Southeast Asian vacation. Because at the end of the dream, the boy and I were in an astoundingly gorgeous bamboo-walled hotel room that was basically the biggest loft space I've ever seen.

I opened the bay window, which was like a garage door made of soundproof rice, to see if it was still raining. And the rain came in like the sound of a roller coaster rushing by you. This turned into drums, and the boy danced a happy dance, picking his knees up to his ears.

It was an unusual dream, the first time I've really gotten enough sleep in nearly a week.

I've been quiet for a bit because I've been insanely busy at work, so not very enthusiastic and/or pensive at the end of the day.

However, I do have one bit of good news to report: I've been offered a new(ish, for those of you in the know) job. It's really my same job, which has grown on me quite a bit [a fact which I'm sure will be augmented by the rather substantial raise that came with the offer].

We saw Mike Daly & Caitlin Cary in Arlington on Saturday. [That sentence had so many capitalized words; it felt almost German to type.] They're the cooler, less poignant and famous, portion of Whiskeytown, for those of you unwashed enough not to know that.

There was a girl playing the accordion. I want to play the accordion. How do I learn?

Seriously, I want to play the accordion. I think of things all the time that I only passingly want to do, but this I might earnestly pursue. I'd like to take lessons.

I'd just like to take lessons in something. I'd like to learn in a formal, structured way now and then.

And I feel so ineffective at playing my own instrument of choice. I know I want to go back to it, but I've been away so long; it's like a fantasy story now. Maybe a new instrument will pull me back through the wardrobe.

I'm also seriously considering making a project plan for my impending move. We're moving out of the city and into a lovely 3-floor townhouse in a development that screams 1976 so loudly it's almost not even kitschy and ironic anymore. And there are so many intersecting little factors and tasks to accomplish; it wants a plan.

Speaking of my work (and yet not). Here's a lesson for today: in developing any project, gathering and documenting your requirements is key. Don't ever let anyone tell you otherwise. I've encountered pain and sorrow on at least three different fronts (and two entirely different contexts, as far as my life goes) today; both came down to that. Unless only one person is doing the work, requirements are critical.