3. Chickened out: 08:09

Categories: None -- Permalink
So much for thoughts of a hard disk transplant - I shake too much and am too uncertain about hardware to make this feasible. We'll just have to get a USB floppy drive, which is always useful anyway.

In the meantime, I can get my USB working.

2. Refreshing my Linux install: 07:18

Categories: None -- Permalink
- Download


- Download


- Boot grub with the following commands:

  kernel (hd0,2)/root/root.bin ide0=ata66 initrd=/root/root.bin
  initrd (hd0,2)/root/root.bin

- Gleefully delete the other partitions except for the main XP one (we'll leave one lying around just in case - it's only 5G, anyway.)

- Create a 550 MB swap partition as /dev/hda2.

- Create a 5 GB partition for / - this is /dev/hda3.

- Allocate the remaining space for /mnt/data - this is /dev/hda4.

- Carelessly reboot.

- Start panicking.

What are my options?

- Find the hard disk, transplant it to the Vaio, install Linux over

the network, and proceed to have fun.

- Find one of those USB hard disk storage things, transplant the hard

disk into it, then do a debootstrapped install.

- Wait for someone to bring me a USB floppy drive.

- Panic.

1. Sleepy cat: 05:55

Categories: None -- Permalink
Groggily the cat stirs, curled up on the ergonomic chair. She licks herself before settling back into a comfortable position, yellow-green eyes drowsily watching me before she involuntarily yawns and blinks - long, slow blinks that get longer and longer until there is just a ball of black and white fur softly snoring on the gray office chair. The bell around her neck is silent for once in the day.

I yawn. She wakes up, glances around her and resumes her nap. Nocturnal predator or not, she is of the opinion that it is way past her bedtime - and mine as well. After all, it is 5:31 in the morning on the day before New Year, and no doubt I will pay for this unexpected wakefulness with sleep or grumpiness later. I will sleep. I will not face the New Year almost dead with fatigue.

The locked door leading to our quarters could be opened with a call to my parents courtesy of the phone system installed throughout our house - even in one of the bathrooms - but with the hour so close to dawn, I thought I might just wait out the darkness and perhaps even see the sunrise. A little patience would mean not interrupting my parents' dreams; precious time they have to rest.

Again I yawn. This time there is no questioning look, simply perked up ears that turn toward the source of the noise and then disinterestedly droop.

A few hours ago, I played a late game of chess with a friend over IRC. It was a thrilling game, full of delicate traps and positional play. The conversation at ChessGames may prove amusing to my readers, who may also wish to play through the game to see how events developed. Well-played - I missed a combination and teetered on the brink of calamity, but fortunately a sequence of unexpected moves brought me back on solid ground. There is a peculiar thing about me; I shake violently during matches, shivers wracking my frame. I suspect it is the adrenalin of a close fight, a fight-or-flight response tightening me. Yes, chess is a sport like any other; palpitating heart, beads of sweat and all!

Small talk seems so much easier over pawns and bishops. Chess provides a natural segue into sports and hobbies. Until then - dreaming driftin in and out...