Always Off
You have no idea how frustrating it is to be attending such an extraordinarily blogworthy event as this AlwaysOn Media gig, and be almost completely off the grid.
Yes, my Dell is still dead. Looks like the hard disc is fried. Nightmare. That's two home machines that have gone pear-shaped on us in the past six months.
I'm snatching what few chances I can to get online, thanks to the kindness of some fellow attendees, and managing to catch up with some of the work I brought with me, thanks entirely to the always under-appreciated Constantin Basturea.
Constantin had read my earlier post about our laptop troubles and, when we met (for the first non-online time) yesterday evening, he very kindly offered to lend me the machine I'm using to write this post.
In fact, not only did Constantin agree to schlep all the way across town to his office after last night's reception to get this laptop for me, he then led Paull Young and I to the wonderful, ancient Old Town Bar where he insisted on paying for drinks and dinner, even though it was his own birthday. It's a Romanian custom, apparently - not a terribly fair one, if you ask me.
Happy Birthday again, Constantin, and my sincere, heartfelt thanks. You're a true gentleman.
Yes, my Dell is still dead. Looks like the hard disc is fried. Nightmare. That's two home machines that have gone pear-shaped on us in the past six months.
I'm snatching what few chances I can to get online, thanks to the kindness of some fellow attendees, and managing to catch up with some of the work I brought with me, thanks entirely to the always under-appreciated Constantin Basturea.
Constantin had read my earlier post about our laptop troubles and, when we met (for the first non-online time) yesterday evening, he very kindly offered to lend me the machine I'm using to write this post.
In fact, not only did Constantin agree to schlep all the way across town to his office after last night's reception to get this laptop for me, he then led Paull Young and I to the wonderful, ancient Old Town Bar where he insisted on paying for drinks and dinner, even though it was his own birthday. It's a Romanian custom, apparently - not a terribly fair one, if you ask me.
Happy Birthday again, Constantin, and my sincere, heartfelt thanks. You're a true gentleman.
