I'm fairly sure I'm not alone in this, but...
It's a cruel, cruel fact of life that my first thought when there's an LJ blackout is hey, I should post an entry about this!, only to be foiled when, for obvious reasons, my LJ client fails to connect.
(Even so, I tried it twice today just. in. case.)
Once upon a time it used to be it'll be back shortly, which, as a theory, spectacularly failed to survive contact with the blackout of '05. Reality, then as always, found a most disappointing way not to conform to my theories of how it should work - not just once, but all four thousand and seven times I optimistically pressed F5 (and then the three or so thousand times I pressed the unmarked button between F4 and F6, trusting that there was probably some kind of pattern to the labelling).
Not so this time. My desk even now shows the signs of planning for the potential cataclysm - the vial of ink, the appropriately-pretty pen, the stack of paper - though I have far more fruitful uses in mind for them now that I can just post this here and get something useful from pressing refresh a million times.
(Except entries mysteriously appear and vanish on my friends page, suggesting that LJ isn't quite completely back yet.)
It's a cruel, cruel fact of life that my first thought when there's an LJ blackout is hey, I should post an entry about this!, only to be foiled when, for obvious reasons, my LJ client fails to connect.
(Even so, I tried it twice today just. in. case.)
Once upon a time it used to be it'll be back shortly, which, as a theory, spectacularly failed to survive contact with the blackout of '05. Reality, then as always, found a most disappointing way not to conform to my theories of how it should work - not just once, but all four thousand and seven times I optimistically pressed F5 (and then the three or so thousand times I pressed the unmarked button between F4 and F6, trusting that there was probably some kind of pattern to the labelling).
Not so this time. My desk even now shows the signs of planning for the potential cataclysm - the vial of ink, the appropriately-pretty pen, the stack of paper - though I have far more fruitful uses in mind for them now that I can just post this here and get something useful from pressing refresh a million times.
(Except entries mysteriously appear and vanish on my friends page, suggesting that LJ isn't quite completely back yet.)