The Mozilla party was fun. But deeply weird. I saw a bunch of people I hadn't seen in years, and it was cool catching up with them (or as much as you can in a five minute shouted conversation.) I only had three unfortunate fanboy incidents, so that was merciful. But it was a very strange crowd: not just in that they were nerdy, but that there was a higher-than-usual concentration of complete nutcases, above and beyond our usual collection of lunatics who show up only when admission is free.
Funniest moment: someone radioed down to the front door to ask what the clicker count was. Whoever was up front radioed back, ``We've had three hundred through the door so far. And uh, six cute ones, over.'' Then two minutes later, ``That would be seven, over.''
Apparently there were a number of people who came in, bought a Mozilla t-shirt, and turned around left immediately.
Speaking of t-shirts, the Mozilla crew sold all 200 of the shirts they brought with them. They were set up right next to coat-check, which is where we sell DNA t-shirts. We sold... one. One! That's so sad! Isn't DNA Lounge a part of the Mozilla mythology now? Don't we have a super-cool logo? Here, make me feel better, go buy a t-shirt now.
jna loaned me an Airport, so now we have a public wireless network inside the club. We're filtering out the major bandwidth-hogging services on it (RealVideo, the Napster descendants, etc.) but we don't yet have any real traffic-shaping in place, so please play nice lest you use bandwidth that is needed by our webcasts and I pull the plug.
I think someone stole my bicycle last friday or saturday.
I say ``I think'' because I just can't imagine how this could have happened, and yet, the bike is gone. I left it parked in the club's kitchen, as usual. It would have been really difficult for someone to wander in off the street, make it that far into the building, and leave again without being spotted, especially since the only time the doors are unlocked is when there are a lot of people around. But I've searched the building from top to bottom enough times that I'm reasonably certain it didn't just get moved somewhere strange. What a pain in the ass.