1:05 PM:

Okay, I'm annoyed. I had an entry partially written here, and it just got lost, because my computer is stupid.

Never mind.

7:23 PM:

Once upon a time, there were doors.

Doors were nice as far as they went. They opened. They closed. They could stay in an indeterminate state between the two. Doors were useful. But eventually somebody decided that it would be even nicer if doors could be used to admit only certain people. That somebody invented the lock. The lock could be used to hold the door in a closed position.

This, however, was only part of the equation. It took a bit longer to figure out why it didn't have the desired result. But eventually, somebody else invented the key, and all was well.

Keys were made of wood, or stone, or metal, or whatever else happened to be handy. They were cunningly designed to have the ability to be copied using a bar of soap and some ingenuity. They had some bits that stuck out, and some other bits that didn't, and they opened doors through entirely mechanical means. And in the course of time came padlocks and deadbolts and other varieties besides, all working through intricately-worked mechanical means. And it was good.

Time passed, as is its wont, and along came the key card. The key card was new, and cool, and the Wave of the Future, and it offered a new ingredient to the mix: electronics. Instantly, hotels across the country seized upon the key card, using it for the locks in all their rooms.

The hotels were happy, because it gave them another impressive feature to offer, and presumably required less trips to the locksmith to replace lost keys. The locksmiths were happy, because it gave them a great excuse to replace all the locks in all the nearby hotels. And the wayfarers were happy, because key cards were cool and froody. Everyone was happy.

Everyone but the Orthodox Jewish wayfarers, that is.

The Orthodox Jewish wayfarers had no problems with keys, as keys could be used on Saturdays. However, they were constrained from using electronic devices on that day. Including key cards.

This narrative became annoyingly relevant to me today. I'm going to check out the University of Michigan next weekend (which is not a good time, being just before Passover, but it can't be helped), and in the course of the day, I've found that hotels don't seem to offer rooms with real keys anymore.

I've found this out the hard way, and let me tell you, there is no way to ask a hotel receptionist "What kind of locks do you have on the doors?" without feeling at least a little silly. I'm not a criminal, I found myself wanting to say, really, I'm not!

It might have helped if, as I searched the Web for more hotels in the area, my Internet connection hadn't gone under every five minutes, requiring another ten minutes or so to re-establish one. Grr.

After several frustrating hours, I called my sister, who in turn recommended I call a local rabbi, as there had to be some way of dealing with this. And, lo, it turns out that there is, although it involves choosing your words very carefully.

It's like this. You can't use the key-card yourself. Nor can you ask a non-Jew to use the key-card for you, as asking somebody else to do labor you can't do is also forbidden. What you can do, however, is tell a non-Jew (in this case, the person at the front desk) that you can't open your door, and let her take it from there.

Should you be faced with someone who doesn't take hints very well, you can even go as far as to ask him to open the door for you. There's nothing forbidden about opening a door, you see, so that request is legally okay. If he decides on his own to use the card to do so, well, that's his concern.

I'd still rather avoid the problem entirely, but I'll take what I can get.

(Note: This is a diary, not a code of Jewish law. Should you be faced with a similar problem, consult your own rabbi. Thank you.)

It is very annoying when one is betrayed by one's psychology. Especially when one knows better.

Let me explain. I'm on campus right now, and my political science class is in progress as I type this. This would be the political science class which I may be in danger of failing for all know. It's hard to say, given that I've already missed two sessions of it (most recently last week due to insomnia-related fallout). I arrived to it about fifteen minutes late this week, having been engaged in searching for a suitable hotel all day today, about which more in my next entry, most probably. This, in itself, was not the problem; I've arrived to classes far more than a mere quarter-hour late in the past.

The problem is that the door was closed.

Yes, given an open door, I can barge in on a class an hour late, but put me up against one in the closed position, and I fold every time.

Now, I know better than this; I know that I'll be noticed coming in late no matter what I do, and that the momentary intrusion of opening a door isn't really that big a deal. But I still can't do it. So here I am, in the campus computer lab, waiting for the class to have its break in a bit under an hour, so I can go in then.

And they say man is a rational animal?

Okay, this is a bit of a longshot, but it's worth a try.

Several weeks ago, in a moment of weakness, I purchased 128MB of SDRAM, in the form of one 168-pin PC100 DIMM module with 128MB on it. Unfortunately, I had seriously misread the manual for my motherboard, which, it turns out, can't actually support such a module. While it can support 128MB of SDRAM, it needs to be in the form of two separate 64MB modules.

So, my question: does anybody out there happen to have two 64MB DIMM modules that they'd want to swap for one 128MB module? (Or two 64MB -- or four 32MB -- 72-pin SIMM modules?) This could make sense if you have a motherboard capable of supporting the module I have, and want to free up a slot for a further upgrade. I'd send mine to you first, so you could verify that it works and not have your system out of commission; as it stands, I can't use it anyway.

If not -- which I figure is more likely -- I'll either sell mine on eBay and use the proceeds to get something I can use, or save it against the rapidly-approaching day when I drastically overhaul my system. The shopping list currently includes a new monitor, a new motherboard, one of those fancy-Delancy new CPUs, a DVD drive, and a CD-RW drive. And more memory. That'd hold me for awhile.

Oh, don't I just wish.

12:32 PM:

Speaking of the Honors Exam, the dual lack of preparedness and speech had roughly the effect expected.

I did okay on the first two parts. Part I involved choosing nine out of fifteen passages, placing them in their proper historical contexts, and explaining why the text pointed to that context, with extra credit for naming the authors and titles. Part II involved comparing and contrasting three poems. This was stuff I was comfortable with, and I was still pretty much awake at this point. (Although the lack of sleep was already having some effects by this point. I doubt any other students scrawled "Beware the day after the Ides of March!" on the front of their blue books, let alone "Avenge the Jabberwock!")

Then came a break for lunch, followed by Part III, which was on the three works mentioned in previous entries. I got a few paragraphs into that, then gave up, writing that I'd been in an insomniac haze all week, that I was no longer sure what I was writing, and that I was going home and going to sleep.

Then I left, started walking west, then realized that, no, I needed to stop by the discount store on the way home, and did an about face, walking east for several yards before remembering that, no, I needed to drop some books off at the library first. So I turned around again, went west to the library, then left the campus, walked two blocks south, then remembered that I still hadn't filed my diploma card, almost walked back, then decided, no, I'll call and see what the deadline is, put the quarter in the phone, dialled, then realized, no, I have the bulletin in my knapsack; I can look it up! So I hung up the phone, dug out the bulletin, and discovered that I'd missed the deadline for a June graduation by about two weeks, but that I still had a couple of weeks to apply for a summer graduation. Close enough. So I proceeded to the discount store, where I dazedly walked around and bought some necessary stuff, after which I went home.

The foregoing ought to indicate that I wasn't lying about my state of consciousness. I was wiped out.

I figure I'll probably manage to graduate with honors, but that "highest honors" is now out of the question. Okay, I can live with that.

From a conversation with my oldest sister -- who, incidentally, doesn't have any Internet access -- last week:

Her: So, are you going home for Shabbos this week?
Me: Probably not. I went home last week, after all. Plus I'll be having the Honors Exam on Friday... and I'm meeting somebody after Shabbos in Manhattan.
Her: Oh, who?
Me: Another Internet friend I've never met in Real Life before. We've typed to each other for a couple of years, and she has this convention in New York, so...
Her: I see.

[pause]

Me: Okay, I have a strange social life.
Her: Yes, you do!
Me: But, you know, people say the Internet makes people anti-social, keeps them from having a life... I wouldn't have a social life at all if not for the 'Net!

This is all true, you know. It's also one reason why I'm reluctant to leave New York. Almost everyone comes to New York eventually, so I'm able to meet net.friends every now and then. Somehow, I can't imagine this happening nearly as often in Michigan.

So my copies of Quidditch Through the Ages and Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them have arrived in the mail. My assumption when I ordered the books was that they'd probably be cute, fluffy, and nothing really incredible, but that I had to buy them, and, hey, it's for charity. This assumption turned out to be correct on all counts. I do recommend them, but that's due to the charity angle; otherwise, non-fanatics needn't bother. (And we fanatics already have our copies.)

(The link above works with Netscape, but not Lynx or Opera, at least on my system.)

Oh, and there's an interesting chat transcript here, which should work with any browser. It does include the shocking revelation that Rowling doesn't like cats... but, hey, we all have our flaws.