OK. I like Vista.
I spent my whole workday yesterday at a "mandatory" training session, where I learned how to do things that I'd already figured out. Well. I take that back. I didn't already know that you could add more gadgets. (And that's something I plan to have a lot of fun with.) So the training was actually worth my while.
It was at this session that I met Vista.
Vista is pretty. It makes me feel all warm inside. Looking at--mesmerized by, really--the un-cluttered desktop with the fun gadgets (including an analog clock, sticky notes, and--my personal favorite--a picture puzzle) and the kind-of see-through application windows, I felt hope. Hope that I could get organized in other areas of my life. Hope that with this brand-new, snazzy tool, I could maybe, just maybe, get things done on time. And with hope like that, who cares if the sidebar takes up too much real estate on the screen? Ahem. Paul.
Oh. And so what if Vista asks for your permission for EVERYTHING that you do? It just wants to be sure. My mother does this. She does it because she cares. And Vista cares about what happens to you. You wouldn't get mad at someone that's looking out for you, would you? No you wouldn't. At least, you shouldn't. Just click the little button, and away you go. Let's stop with the hostility. Try a little empathy for once.
You: "Vista, I want to do this."
Vista: "Oh hello! It's so nice to see you. You mean this? This is what you want?"
You: "Yes, please."
Vista: "Are you sure, friend?"
You: "Yes, Vista. I'm sure. But thank you for asking and thank you so much for your concern about my well-being."
I don't know. Maybe I just like new things. Maybe I'm just easy to please. Maybe I should care more about performance and usability. But that's so boring.