As of tomorrow, I will have been sick for 2 weeks.

I have to say, it sucks.

It is a virus, which means all there is to do is take things that help me feel better and wait.

But this morning, I woke up with a red oozy eye. Who wants to bet that Noah will too? Mmm. Pink eye.

On a completely different note, my friend Lizzy of the House of H is going through a seriously rough time.

Other online friends of hers (and mine) have organized helping her out.

If you’re in a position to help, please join in the virtual baby shower. And if you aren’t, please click on over and leave some moral support.

We are all still coughing and sniffling, although Jill’s sore throat is getting better. Hopefully I’ll be up for more substance soon. Also pictures of Noah.

In the meantime, thank you to the library-comic Unshelved for pointing me to a cartoon that just cracked me up!

Meet Garfield Minus Garfield. That comic strip is 100 times funnier without the cat. Who knew???

This morning I went in for my big 12 week ultrasound, where they check for signs of Down Syndrome and several other chromosomal abnormalities. It’s a 2 part test, involving both bloodwork and an ultrasound; the bloodwork results won’t be back for another week or so.

The good news: Blur passed the u/s part of the test with “flying colors!” Everything about this baby is measuring picture perfect, if on the large end of normal. Today I’m exactly 12 weeks pregnant, but Blur measures 12w2d — in the range of normal, but at the high end of that range.

The no news: Blur is more modest than his/her older brother was. With Noah, the artist formerly known as Smudge, it was so obvious that this was a boy baby that untrained observers like Jill and I could tell easily.

The u/s tech had no idea whether Blur was a boy or a girl. She could see the umbilical cord clearly between Blur’s legs, but nothing of what might be behind it.

On the other hand, the u/s tech has only been in this particular job for 2 weeks, and had never before used this u/s machine.

The doctor, who used the phrase “flying colors” with regard to the physical characteristics suggestive of chromosomal abnormality, on the other hand, said she thought this baby was a girl.

Neither her tone nor her language were super-confident, and she didn’t elaborate on why she thought so.

So we are not yet sure that this is a girl, but we’re thinking “probably.”

The next big u/s is in 8 weeks, unless something goes wrong or we get scary results from the bloodwork today.

That’s the 3-D anatomy scan, where we really hope that Blur is more cooperative.

Ok, I don’t blog a lot about my job. For that matter, I don’t blog a LOT about politics. But on my drive home today, I heard a quote from President Bush that was so outrageous that I have to blog about it, and to do so meaningfully, I have to also blog about my job.

Please note that these are my personal opinion, in no way authorized or made official by my employer. I do not speak for my employer; I am only speaking for myself.

You may be aware that the President is in a huge fight right now with the House of Representatives about a particular, narrow expansion of the Foreign Intelligence Surveillance Act, or FISA. That’s the law that authorizes the government to conduct surveillance of people who are suspected of being agents of foreign powers, who are within the United States.

FISA has been around since 1978, but it got expanded considerably shortly after September 11. In fact, the federal government got a lot of additional power to investigate “foreign intelligence” — far beyond what they could do when they had to demonstrate that the standards for criminal investigations were being met.

Right now, the biggest issue that the President has drawn a line in the sand over, is whether or not companies that provided the government with surveillance over their customers WITHOUT AN ORDER FROM THE FISA COURT OR ANY OTHER SEARCH WARRANT OR SURVEILLANCE ORDER should be immune from being sued for handing over all that personal information about their customers with no legal authority requiring them to do so.

The President says that companies should be immune from being sued for violating their privacy policies and customer agreements, which generally state that they’ll only give over such information and access with a legally valid and binding request. (The exact language varies from company to company.)

My friends, that is a crock.

I cannot tell you whether or not my company ever received a request like this, or a national security related court order. For good reasons, the law prohibits companies from discussing such orders, even to the point of acknowledging whether or not they have been served on a particular company.

But I can tell you this: It is my job to process all requests for information about our customers from law enforcement agencies.

The vast majority of the requests I get are involving either investigations of identity theft, stolen laptops, or the sexual exploitation of minors.

Most of them come from local police departments and sheriff’s offices, although many come from the FBI and from Immigration & Customs Enforcement (they do a lot of the Internet sexual exploitation cases, I don’t know why). A handful come from other random federal agencies that I never even imagined dealing with, like the Forest Service.

In that role, I have implemented surveillance orders. They are expensive and time consuming, and they involve deploying computer hardware that isn’t normally part of our network.

Fortunately, I haven’t had to implement them often; usually the requests are just for identification of the owner of an email address or phone number, or identification of who was logged into a particular IP address at a given point in time.

I have never implemented a surveillance order without first reviewing the court order instructing us to do so. On the corporate side, it isn’t very hard to figure out whether or not this kind of paperwork is at least facially valid.

Now, I don’t doubt that it is a pain in the ass to do all the paperwork necessary to get a surveillance order. I’m even willing to imagine that it might be more of a pain than usual to get one from the secret FISA court.

In my opinion, that’s why we have the Constitution of the United States of America, especially the Fourth Amendment. It should be difficult for our government to spy on us.

But remember — surveillance isn’t necessarily about an imminent threat. Who sent this threatening email, or who posted a threat from this IP address, those are questions that could be answered with an administrative subpoena — much less paperwork intensive.

Surveillance is “we think this is a bad person planning something bad.” Why? If you think so, explain why to a court, and get them to issue a surveillance order.

Apparently it isn’t very hard, at least with the FISA court. According to Wired magazine (in a very poorly worded article):

Through the end of 2004, the court approved 18,761 warrants, and rejected only five. It approved 2,072, in 2005, and 2,181 in 2006, rejecting none. Five were withdrawn before a ruling.

PBS says that they’ve never rejected an application.

Anyway, I’m going to quit ranting about this. But if you’re also annoyed, contact your Senator or House member and tell them to support the House version of the bill.

Here’s how to find them if you don’t know who they are. And here’s a less ranting, shorter explanation of the issue.

Noah’s 2 year old well-baby visit was on Friday, when they incidentally also assured us that he didn’t have pink eye or the flu. So lots of good news.

He is 35 3/4″ tall (doc said 75%+, this online chart says 85%). And he weighs 32 lbs 7 oz, which the doc and chart agree is 90-91%. Our boy has not yet had the fabled early toddler “life is to exciting to waste time eating!” phase. Occasionally Noah gets extremely cranky about having his choo-choo time interrupted by dinner, but upon being seated in front of food, he gets over it.

And good lord you should see this boy demolish breakfast. Yesterday he ate 2 full sized yogurts, a banana, and a piece of toast. This morning, he ate a cup of strawberries and 2.5 bananas, plus whatever they fed him at day care. (Actually, it might have been 3.5 bananas. Jill, do you remember?)

The doc seemed to suggest that we should not encourage Noah’s appetite quite so much, although don’t think I agree.

The difference between the 85th and 91st percentiles don’t strike me as significant, and even 75th-90th is not completely out of whack. But I’m ok with switching to skim milk, low-fat or fat-free yogurt, and encouraging more apples*. On the whole, though, Noah’s eating habits are pretty good!

* I love “sharing” an apple with Noah. It’s become hilarious as he’s become so independent. Here’s how it works: I slice an apple with my slicer-corer dealio, then I peel the skin from 2 pieces. If we give Noah unpeeled slices, he works every bit of flesh off of the peel while it’s in his mouth, and later we find dried up bits of peel around the house.

Anyway! Then I arrange the fruit on a plate, with the two peeled slices separate from the rest of the apple on one side of the plate. Noah comes up, looks at the whole plate, and grabs the two peeled slices.

Noah gets to choose for himself, we don’t have to pick up dried bits of apple peel, and everyone wins. (Did I mention that we are FULLY in the “I do it!” stage?)

I don’t tend to get a lot of road rage. I mean sure, I get exasperated with the person in front of me driving 27 with their right turn signal on for 3 miles as much as the next person, but a frustrated “Argh! Come ON!” is about as far as it usually goes.

Yesterday, I understood it at a whole new level.

You know how we’re all still sick? And now we need things like groceries and cleaning supplies? And I’m pregnant and my clothes are starting to not fit? And I haven’t had a chance to rubiks cube the garage to get to the bins of maternity clothes?

Yeah, it was time to go to Tar-get.

Plan A was “the farmer’s market, then Target, then the regular grocery store. Leaving at 8 pm after Noah went to sleep. In the pouring rain. While sick.

In the car, I realized I could get both clothes and cleaning supplies and possibly some needed food items at Target.

Blah blah. Got most of what I needed and everything we couldn’t live without, including a dress for the gigantic and extremely senior meeting to which I have to make a presentation this morning. (Which is a whole other thing that I’m not going to get into.)
It was P.O.U.R.I.N.G. when I left Target. Driving, cold, serious rain. Which we need, but which I did NOT enjoy in the moment. Plan A was clearly scrapped and I was going home.

After I got settled into my car and began pulling out of the parking space, I heard a car horn. So I stopped and looked around. Nada, except another car pulling out around 5 spaces away. Hmm, that must not have been at me.

So I began to pull out again. Longer horn.

Pause. Look again. Nothing.

Roll down window in pouring rain.

There, almost in my blind spot, is a dark blue car with NO LIGHTS ON!!!  In the POURING RAIN.

I yell, “Turn your lights on!”

She glares at me.

“Your lights! Your lights!” I flash my lights a couple of times, then get tired of being rained on and roll up the window, and after a moment, she drives away.

Who drives around in a dark car, in the rain, without their lights on?????????? Yes, I almost hit her. It’s true. But it never would have happened if her LIGHTS had been on!

And it is a mark of my irritation that I’m leaving five sentences in this post ending in prepositions. Road rage drives me to bad grammar.

I dreamed that Jill and I had six little blond boys. All preschoolers.

And that Meredith Viera wanted to hire them for something, but they all kept running in different directions.

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