I am thankful to him for two reasons. First, it saves me the time of searching for my mythical "web server emulator". But, more importantly, it saves me from continuing to look like AN EFFING DUMBASS as I go on and on about my dream world where web development is extra challenging for me because I'm limited to dialup and running Windows 95, and Perl scripts stolen from the Web are expected to execute perfectly even if I print them out and tape them to the side of my monitor. Obviously, web development is extra challenging to me for much simpler reasons. Much simpler reasons. (Unfortunately, Jim's advice only saves me from continuing to look like a dumbass on that particular subject.)

What bugs me most about Jim's email, though, is that I had read this about two weeks earlier on a very nice page about TCP/IP and the Internet. Gary Kessler's page on the subject says:

"A NET_ID value of 127 is used for loop-back testing and the specific host address 127.0.0.1 refers to the localhost."

Before I went to bed, I typed in a short JavaScript example from my JavaScript book. It didn't work, so I went to bed. Later, when I couldn't sleep, I read a bit about JavaScript syntax and got an idea of how I might fix the script.

Weight Watchers dinner was the Thai-ish Red Curry served with jasmine rice. I didn't think it came out as well as the time before, but Weight Watchers can't be choosers. I didn't bother cutting the chicken breast into half-point cubes. Not only is it a giant pain in the butt for me, but Susan has a total Howard Hughes complex when it comes to raw chicken, and after a chicken cubing session, the ENTIRE KITCHEN has to be torn down, put in an autoclave, and reassembled. I enforced "Raw Chicken Handling Discipline" on myself this night and contaminated only two bowls with raw chicken cooties. I did weigh the chicken pieces, and they were, conveniently, almost exactly three, four, and five points. Matt ate the three point piece, and I ate the four point piece. The five point piece was saved with the leftovers for Matt's lunch. Susan limited herself to vegetables (that had 1.5 points due to the coconut and sugar) and two points of rice. She was doing penance for something that had happened the day before...

"Could you Super Size that?"

Susan had fallen off the Weight Watchers wagon and into a Filet-O-Fish and large fries. Cam had been a handful all Monday morning, and I had slept until noon, providing zero relief to Susan. In a last ditch effort to maintain sanity and get something done, she had taken off to run errands at noon, not having eaten lunch, since riding in the car often puts Cam to sleep. I could tell when she left that she was frustrated and hungry. It was a cold and windy day, and I watched with sympathy as she backed out of the driveway in a quest for a moment's peace (in which to run errands; a mom's life is hard).

I immediately set to work making as close to comfort food as we were allowed: chicken soup (i.e. vegetables with bouillon cubes). I also prepared a salad and heated up a Weight Watchers brand chicken korma meal. Two hours, then three, ticked by on the kitchen clock. Poor Susan, I thought.

As soon as she came in, I was offering her food, but she had already eaten. At the same time as I was thinking "poor Susan" (and eyeing the skim chicken korma), she was three miles away pushing a stray gob of tartar sauce from her cheek into her mouth with "fries-shiny" fingers.

She wasn't sure what she should do. I guessed that the meal was in the high teens in points and said she should count it as twelve, have a light dinner, and stick with the plan. Later, she looked it up on line: 23 points. Her moment of understandable weakness was supposed to be worth a day's consumption. Anyway, she ate seven points under her quota the following day in an act of penance.

I ate the chicken korma. It was so-so, but for 4.5 points, it wasn't too bad. But as I threw the box away, I noticed that unlike the other Weight Watchers lunches, the korma was six points. I had lost a point and a half due to negligence without partaking in my rightly due six point enjoyment. Damn!

In non-PPLP related news, my friend Erin found out she passed the National Veterinary Boards. This was the culmination of something she decided she wanted and committed herself to back in 1994, even though she had an English degree that vet schools wouldn't think much of. Years of working herself through night school to get the required science and math courses under her belt, followed by three years of busting her butt at Tufts (one of the top vet schools in the country) paid off. Well done, Erin! Congratulations!