Everything I've seen, I've liked. I think Stephan Elliot is going on my favorite directors list. He has tremendous range (from "Priscilla" to "Eye of the Beholder") and a great sense of the bizarre ("Welcome to Woop Woop"). I'm looking forward to his latest foray.

As the season changes, static rises, mice die, and computers lock up. Here's frykitty's little anti-static tip: burn a candle. Yes, I do this and it really works. I have a little votive on my desk, and about the third time I shock my mouse into unresponsiveness, I remember to light it. Saves me a few reboots a day.

This is me blogging from home during lunch. I finally decided to try the walk, to see how long it is. It took me 30 minutes to get home, and I'm by no means a fast walker. Of course I had to upload some files, check my mail, do a little blog. So I'm taking a bus back. Still, it was way cool to freak out my sleeping kitties.

Weird search string of the day: "Nina Simone drunk." I could understand looking for Nina here, but drunk?

For some reason, my ReFlex service doesn't tell me how fast I'm zooming. Well, I discovered a way to find out. Click. 800Kbps. Smile.

Okay, I have a confession to make. You know those pics in the crush section? I didn't ask permission to use them. I know, I know, that's not at all surprising. Here's what is. I've been working on a project (nope, not gonna talk about it), and I find I'm actually asking permission to use stuff. At least from the homier places that might conceivable be hurt that I took something. It's a new and exciting career turn. Sheesh, I may just be developing into some sort of professional.



Nah.

Sorry to neglect you, sweetie. I'm just so sure you're going to win, I've been holding off.

Did my first Kozmo order just now. They have my brand of cat food. This is such a good thing. Couple of vids, some juice. I love living downtown.

Thanks, Uncle Ron. Okay, he's not really my uncle, but I've been calling our fine democratic senator from Oregon, Ron Wyden, "Uncle Ron" for many years. He's not perfect, but he's always connected with us, fought for us, believed in changing things for the better. He seems a man uncorrupted by his involvement in politics. These days, that's mighty refreshing.

The machine had a Windows Protection Error. There was no way to get out of it. Rebooting only resulted in safe mode. So, we (Robert and I) blow away the hard drive, spend all day reloading Windows, networking, WordPerfect, Groupwise. It all works. We're happy. Six hours has passed (slow machine, lots of problems). I close it up and boot. Windows Protection Error.



Well, the goddamned thing can have a nice weekend, 'cuz on Monday: it's DEAD.

I gave him a 10, but I'm a sucker for duct-tape. Oooh...Jim!

Okay, so I have a beanie baby. Only one. It's not like I'm developing a fetish.


There are a couple bb-fiends here at the office. One of them has a quirky computer that I'm always messing with. Every time I go in to tweak the thing, I end up playing with this one bb. A chipmunk. Chipper the Chipmunk, to be exact. I can't help it--I like squirrel-like animals. So today, she gave me the thing--in fact, she insisted I take it. She's trying to convert me. It won't work; I had his tag off inside an hour. ("You've circumsized him!" said a co-worker.) So now Chipper is my friend. I don't think of him as a beanie-baby, I think of him as, um, a small stuffed cute thing.


This is Chipper, watching me write about him in Blogger:

One of my greatest fears has always been that someday, I will lose touch with reality. I have an active and vivid imagination. My fantasies run from power to terror to sex to how to handle tomorrow's meeting. I work out my life in my mind; designing, writing, re-arranging furniture. Sometimes these things come to fruition, sometimes not. My fear is that I will cease to know the difference. One day I'll sit down with a friend and tell them earnestly how I met the President, defeated a mugger, or won a Webby. Maybe I'll catch myself, deepening my embarrassment. Or maybe I'll believe it myself.



There is a reason for this fear. In the last years of her life, my mother was working closely with Senator Kennedy on sneaking a water-powered engine past the oil companies. The oil companies were everywhere. They watched our house. They followed her to work. But she and Ted were going to get it done, despite the opposition of this Insidious Conglomerate. I admit it was pretty entertaining at times, but it shook me to my roots. This is my mother with paranoid schizophrenia. I have her genes. I even look quite a bit like her. Will my mind disintegrate like hers? Will I become a source of entertainment for my friends? I take hope in the fact that I loved her despite her illness, as I'm sure my friends will continue to love me.



Until I tell them what I said to Madonna.

Oh boy, did kitty ever find a better picture of Paul. Me happy. Me very, very happy.

I just finished wrapping all my tenderest cords in tinfoil. Is it ugly? Hell yeah. But if it prevents me from losing any equipment or spanking another cat, then I'm happy.

There will be no one to buy oil if we're all dead. This is one of the most comprehensive articles on global warming I've ever come across. It covers the science and the politics well. Warning: it is depressing.

Because I know how much you loved the others, here's another random shot of my office:

I've actually said this. You mean everybody doesn't say that?

I just shared an elevator with a stranger, and got myself a major attitude adjustment:

Him: "How are you this fine, fine day?"

Me: "Oh, fine, fine. And you?"

Him: "Can't complain. I try never to complain. It doesn't do any good. It doesn't move you any further along the path."

What amazes me about Daniel is that he can write about the most inane subjects, and still be enthralling. Every move is like a chapter from a novel. Speaking of which, I wish he'd write one. I'd read it just for the lilt of his prose.

And now, for your viewing pleasure, I present two random pictures of my office:

Oh, fine. Tell us there's a blog-fight going on and then don't link it. We want to see too!

It happens every year about this time. I start jonesing for new X-Files episodes. This year, however, it is exponentially worse. Last night I had a long, involved dream starring Gillian Anderson and (gasp!) Robert Patrick. I hate baseball.

I just got back from spending all day cleaning the old apt. And I'm still not done. I'm going to go pass out now.

Woody, shut the f*ck up. Slight problem with the Toy Story 2 DVDs. I bet these will go for a fortune on e-bay.

I want you to know that the first thing I do with my vid cap device will not be to capture all the naughty bits on my movies and share them with friends. No, that will be the second thing I do. The first thing will be a real treat: if it works, you'll get to see a 20-something frykitty making an absolute and utter fool of herself. In front of a large audience. In a Star Trek costume (me, not the audience). Oooh...I can't wait. Can I act? Well, I can over-act.

I am willingly victimized by my desires.



Sounds like a great start for a dirty story, doesn't it? Sorry, just more consumerism. I wanted a video-capture device to do some stuff with the page, so I looked around e-bay, dutifully checked reviews at c|net, all in hopes of making an informed decision. Then, just like I always do, I walked up to Office Depot and bought whatever they had available. I ended up with a Dazzle Digital Photo Maker. It will be a flat blast. As far as my helplessness in the face of acqui-lust, hey, credit cards were made to go to the limit. That's why they have limits.

C'mon guys, make this happen. And for Koja, you'd better do it right.



Kathe Koja is one of my all-time favorite authors. I found the Skinthemovie site looking for info to do a small fan page. The novel Skin is engrossing, transforming, and out of print--if you can find a copy on e-bay, grab it.

Finally, a good rain. It's October 20, and it should have been raining almost non-stop for a week now. Not so. We've had an unusually dry and warm Summer (welcome to global warming), and the rains just began today. The air smells better. The streets are cleaner. Okay, so a few people crashed and burned on the freeway. I'd hardly blame that on the rain.



I have some sort of steel overhang outside my windows at the new apt, so the rain is loud entertainment. I'll get used to it--the first rain in a new place is always strange.

Finally went to see Almost Famous. I loved it. There has been such a dearth of good movies so far this year, and it was nice to finally walk out of the theater with a genuine smile. Highly recommended.

No, please, no. What will I do personally if this happens? Will I see it? Ahh...the temptation to find out if it's just as bad as the first one will probably be too great.

Someone left me a nice voicemail about the site. I think the name got cut off--but hey, thanks!

My tragedy for the day. I'm going to be spending too much money panic-shopping for Chucks now. I can't run out! NNNOOOO!



Link via MeFi.

So I'm listening to this Mediaeval Baebes disc, and track 11 is "Veni coronaberis", but when they sing it I hear "Annie, put on your panties". I swear that's really what it sounds like.

Poe has a new album?? I had no idea. I gotta start keeping up. Question is, will I drop my boycott for another disc? I'll try used first, but man, I love Poe. Gotta have it.

Hugh had his long moment, now it's time for Paul. I'm disappointed in the pic, but it's the best I could find. So far. I'm working my way through his catalog, finding cheap tapes of bad movies on e-bay. Yeah, I got it bad.

Lunch Shoppie:





My friend Chris first turned me on to these ladies. Their voices are more girlish than I prefer, but the overall effect is nice. They're a welcome change from my usual fare. Like I have usual fare.

Kitty's getting broadband. Yes, I'm in one of those fancy-schmancy complexes that's wired for bear. I thought it was going to be a spendy install, but there seems to be some kind of wire-war going on right now. Everyone and their monkey is having a special--so I get everything free, plus a free month of service. Come Thursday, life will be good indeed.

Congratulations! We want details. What's the place like? How's the location? What color are you painting the kitchen??

Hey! That looks like Dave Foley!

Will writing about writer's block finally end it? Anything is worth a try at this point. I've been blocked for months now. Mental constipation. I haven't written an article, essay, review, comic, nada. My blog has even become boring. All I can manage are a few short paragraphs about nothing. You know, like this.


I need a gallon of apple juice for my soul.



I had hoped moving would help, and it still may. I've hardly settled in; my place is a wreck (we're talking furniture in the kitchen), but I'm making progress. There are more changes to come, and each of them holds some hope. I would reassure myself with the unlikelihood that this is forever--but it may be. Sometimes I just. stop. I stopped writing songs several years ago. Part of it was that I knew I was mediocre, and would never be any better, so I decided to concentrate on greater talents. But much of it was the fact that suddenly I didn't have the angst anymore--some odd flower in me matured, bloomed, and banished the pain that bore my music. It sounds tragic, but frankly, I don't miss it. I wonder if the writing has gone the same way. Am I done? Do I not need it anymore?



Or is something else beginning?



Maybe it's simply time to get laid.

Cool thing about the new place #298: WB comes in beautifully. I can watch Buffy again. Now, when are the re-runs on? I've missed two years.

I'M DOWNTOWN! Yay, the move is over. I'm still unwired at home, but I'll hook up again tonight. It didn't go smoothly, but it did go. And my friend Kelly is now my new God. Everybody bow down and worship Him Who Did Most of the Work.

WOOHOO! Okay, I know I should have done all this a week ago, but I finally called to transfer my electric and phone today. I have a new phone number. Well, actually, I have a new phone number on Monday, since the guy that moved out a week ago still has it in his name. Which means I can call Australia over the weekend. I'm thinking of stalking some folks. Fun!

I'm suffering from a terrible case of free-floating longing. I don't know where I want to go, I just want to go. I don't know what I want, but I want it very badly. It's that feeling like something is just around the corner. The knowledge that there is more than this, and I can almost touch it. It tastes like too many marshmallows. It feels like my clothes have been soaked by a summer rain. I like it, and I don't. I hope the move clears it away. Tomorrow.

Ahhh. I remember my Jewish phase. I never did get the hang of that dradel. It's all in the wrist, they say, but my wrists still haven't healed from my Catholic phase. My giggle for the day.

Any tech who has masses of projects and duties in addition to helpdesk will understand what I am about to say: I'm being nibbled to death by piranha. Soon, the sharks will smell the blood.

I once speculated about a situation like this. But don't go to that link first. Instead, go here. Read a few posts, then read the comments on the top post. See if the hair on the back of your neck doesn't stand up. Makes you think. Link via MeFi.

Just finished watching Passion of Mind. While billed as a psychological thriller, it isn't particularly. It would have been nice to not know what was happening, and to discover the truth through the story rather than blatant clues and exposition. The performances were lovely, and this is a good step back for Demi. It was also nice to see William Fichtner in a less-than-invisible role. It took me a while and a nudge from Kel before I started spotting Fichtner regularly, but now that I've overcome his astounding power of transparency, he's always a treat.

Just downloaded the best Star Trek screensaver: System47. It does rock the fox's sox. Link via MeFi.

I love the design of this place, even if Jerwin thinks they ripped him off. The only problem is updates. As in: none. Jeeze, nice start guys, but your perseverance is for crap. If you update, I might give you blog of the week. Or not.

Happy Birthday!

Hugh has been up for a while, as I promised. I'd like to replace him with Paul Mercurio, but I can't find a good pic. It took me a while with Hugh as well. I won't give up. Paul is too delish not to have a crush page.

Another packing tip: don't waste perfectly good boxes on soft stuff. Sure, it's nice to use towels and sheets to pad the top of other packed items, but when it comes to clothes, blankets, pillows, whatever you're not using to pad other stuff, garbage bags are the thing. Make sure they're strong ones. You can get lots in, you can carry several at once, and your clothes are gonna get mussed anyway so you may as well really wrinkle 'em all to hell. Finally, get the bags with handle-ties, and leave enough room in the bag so you can tie the handles in a bow. That way you're not struggling to get the thing open later.

I have to admit, if I discovered I was going to die a slow, painful death, I would do the same thing, still, we lost a great actor yesterday. I remember seeing The Grey Fox just after my mother died. All I could think about was how she would have loved that movie, and I missed her terribly. The movie, and Richard Farnsworth, made an indelible impression. If you haven't seen it, or The Straight Story, you're missing a real treat. Get renting.

If you were going to scout an alien planet, would you depend on some fancy technology to change your appearance so you could blend in with the populace? Of course not. As demonstrated in movie after movie, technology ultimately fails. The way to go is low-tech: an alien suit. Of course, if your race is about the same size as the alien race, this will tend to make you a bit bulky, even very big, depending on the amount of breathing apparatus or other survival equipment that must be masked by the suit. You can only hope those pesky aliens come in a range of sizes, so your heft will go unnoticed.



Where am I going with this? Ah, but surely you've guessed.



Americans aren't getting fatter, they're being invaded. I can admit this freely because I know you silly humans won't believe me until you're hanging from a meat-hook on the mothership. I've been tagging particularly tasty-looking morsels for months. Martha Stewart is going to make a fabulous centerpiece.

So I was telling my boss that the guy at the seminar yesterday said Swish can do everything Flash can do for $30, and my boss says: "Why don't we just get Flash?" So I'm playing with several macromedia products to see what will best suit our needs. Poor, poor me. I have such a terrible job. Heartwrenching, really.

Forgot to mention that I talked to the boss about a raise on Tuesday. He has to go through higher-ups who will be hard to convince, but I know he'll do his best. Unfortunately, I made the mistake of asking what I could do to help my chances. He said network training would raise my worth, and that's okay. He also mentioned...my dress. No, he's not trying to tell me how to dress, but he does understand the culture here. I know he's right, even if I resent being judged on looks instead of skill. It's just $1000 I'll have to really scrape for. All I own are jeans and tops and sneakers. I should count my blessings; a few years ago a woman my size wouldn't be able to find anything decent to wear. Nowadays it's fairly easy to out-dress the rabble. Expensive, but at least possible. Stay tuned for a new Kitty. A snazzy Kitty. An uncomfortable and poor Kitty.

Sorry no updates yesterday. I was off at a seminar. A bad one. Note to self: never go to a web design seminar unless you can see the teacher's page first. I went to this guy's seminar. As you can see, his page could pretty much suck a bowling ball through a garden hose. To his credit, he's a nice guy, and he did have some decent graphics info. That everything else was too basic was my fault. That much of it was misleading or just plain wrong is his fault. Note to Brian: teach a class on graphics for the web. That would be good. Teaching a general design class is way out of your league. Of course, you can take my note and cash it.

I forgot to mention the funny thing when I purchased my copy of Kid A: when I tossed the CD on the counter, the clerk yelled "Radiohead!" and all the employees in the store, including the guy in back, echoed: "Radiohead!" It was cute.

Okay, okay, this is sort of me plugging me, but there's a fun debate going on at the Portland Club. Someone just called Nader irrelevant. I love this town.

Okay, I'm on my third listening, and I am enjoying all of it except track #3. I absolutely loathe experimental horns. Headache fodder.



The whole package seems like a puzzle unto itself. Maybe I've been playing The Stone too long, and I'm seeing deeper meanings in everything. I think I should go home and find hidden messages in my macaroni and cheese.

Interesting, putting another booklet where you have to work to get at it. I'm only on the second song of the first listening, but so far the impression is positive. It's very stripped. The synth patch they're using reminds me of something specific that goes along with the pictorial booklet--I just can't quite remember what. Something about old computers or old synths. I'll get it.

Alright, I'm a hypocrite. I'm gonna run right out and buy Kid A, even though it's on a major label. I suck. But hey, I've actually done pretty well, and I'll keep boycotting RIAA most of the time. K? I have to admit, one of the reasons I have to have it now is because Jerwin hates it so much. Yes, Jerwie and I are great friends; I'm not being spiteful. But the things he said made the album sound irresistably intriguing. I'll be right back.

It's not that I don't feel like working. I do want to work. I just don't want to work on the things I've neatly written in my calendar. Well, as long as I'm productive.



Wow, was that ever a boring, useless entry. Sorry, not being so creative these days. Live with it. Or don't.

Kitty should not be spending money on any more home-decorating books. But I just can't help myself.


First, before I left for Seattle on Friday I got the call that Pad: The Guide to Ultra-Living was in at the bookstore. Ooooh. I fear I shall get hooked on making resin coasters--finally, a use for those Babylon 5 trading cards! While I'm not going to make the porno-chic lamp, it went over big with my friends. I will definitely be using their tips on toilet lids.



Second, as you can probably tell from the blog below, I was a bit cranky today. What better way to cheer up than get another book? Thus entereth Decorative Style: The Most Original and Comprehensive Sourcebook of Styles, Treatments, Techniques, and Materials. They aren't kidding. First, they cover some decorating basics. After that you are treated to chapter after chapter of themed styles, each with a stodgy name but a great look. Even their Country styles are cool. And you can't beat their Gothic Bathroom. Last, a big ole' section on how to do it all. This book was a touch spendy, but thoroughly worth it.