Not much happening this weekend. The Super Bowl, of course, and I'll tune it in if I'm here at the apartment, but I can't tell you right now who's playing. Well, the Ravens, named after the Edgar Allan Poe poem, "quoth the raven" and all that. A little prissy for a football team, I think, but what the hell, everybody had to memorize some part of it as a kid, so maybe it will come in handy during the game: "Get thee back into the tempest!", "Take thy beak from out my heart!" and "Prophet!...thing of evil", strong epitaphs from a roiling crowd.

I can see the shouting crowd, t-shirts emblazoned with "Lenore". I can see that. I'm surprised I can type it. I'm amazed I can post it here in the journal. I liked that "lost Lenore" stuff when I was a kid. Seemed like a good thing to be doing, looking off into the distance and thinking of a lost and impossible woman, about as lost and impossible as women can be when you're twelve and your hormones are roaring. "Lenore." I wonder if she wore one of those slick push up bras like Madonna? Could be. For a twelve year old. Rooting for the Ravens at the Super Bowl.

The world continues to turn. Life at the office continues to be weird, although I've been able to spend more time working on our Intranet web sites and I find that satisfying. It's clear they're going to out source the mainframe programming to India, not the people, but the jobs, but we've known that now for months. (Everybody's out sourcing their mainframe programming to India, ask any kid in grade school.) The question remains: will they move the technology jobs or some of the technology jobs (like mine) to company headquarters in Asia? Will they just cut us loose and run? This may in itself be a stupid question, you really can't do that, at least not all at once, but management is mute. Like MSP yesterday, she knew when it was time. She knew, but sloth has kept the rest of us numb and twitching in front of our CRT's. I talk about finding another job and then I talk about finding another job some more, but I won't and I don't, so why not just shut up? You can't beat your breast every damned day, it makes you cranky and you don't get invited to the better parties, so I slack off, learn another web trick, shoot photographs, read about web jobs disappearing with the dotcoms and watch the show.