Got my mind made up (I’m a Lady)

Got my mind made up (I’m a Lady)
Great new quote:
Arthur C. Clarke formulated the three "laws" of prediction which apply well to the evolution of technology in my lifetime.

1. When a distinguished but elderly scientist states that something is possible, he is almost certainly right. When he states that something is impossible, he is very probably wrong.

2. The only way of discovering the limits of the possible is to venture a little way past them into the impossible.

3. Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.

LOL. ROFL. I'm such a fucking geek sometimes (okay, all the time, but fuck you, I'm in denial about a lot of things and my geekiness tops the list).

I just spent the past few hours making myself incredibly happy by reading up on open-source electronic health records. I had a terrible jolt earlier today when I demoed a EMR that I've been DYING to see, oh, I've heard such GREAT things about it and I was so excited, I would have forged the check myself.

Until they told me how much it cost. I was disgusted then. Absolutely repulsed. Shock and Awe. For real. The military could have saved a billion bucks and just quoted the price of this web-based software to Iraq if they wanted to scare the shit out of everyone. It was disgusting and lazy and designed to boondoggle the unsuspecting out there. I had even tried to like the salesperson, but now it's solidified, I don't. He knew he fucked up when I wrote back after the demo "the price is steeper than expected." So THEN - adding insult to serious injury - he starts telling me how he can talk to his manager and see if they can bring the price down.

I flashed back to every single sales-instruction video I've ever seen in my life and could imagine him wearing polyester pants, a wide tie, a combover and his belly hanging over his pants as he tried to scam me out of good sense and money. Dumb bitch. Here is what killed, in order to save money, he wanted me to decrease MY expectations. Yes, truly.

That's like walking into a clothing store and being told that the expensive shoes you want to buy are all yours for the taking at full price as long as you're okay with them being 3 sizes too small. W.T.F.? Why not just find the shoes elsewhere - hell, on sale even?

Well, it was just enough disillusionment to prompt some therapeutic wolfing of steak and broccoli and crablegs (all you can eat!!!) and for me to come home and baste in bathwater scented with "French Kiss" bath stuff from Lush (Merry Christmas to me from my little sister!)

Now I'm listening to 2080 by Yeasayer and preparing to go write nice comments on my novel writing class. The class, btw, is not a phenomenal waste of time, but I won't be taking it again. It's too...esoteric. Plus, as I have detailed at length, i can't stand the instructor. Working with other writers who are trying to gain a toehold is painful. Painful I tell you. There is a reason writing is an alone activity. Most of it is ugly and unredeeming. But you keep going and it gets better. Being a part of someone else's process doubles or quintuples the agony. It's infinitely worse to share your early ugly moments with others as well.