There have been a few folks that have grumbled about the lack of visuals on this site. Specifically, visuals of me. I had my reasons. Paramount among them was the fact that I couldn't think of a nifty way to do it. Well, I finally found my nifty way. Go check out the fryster. And yes, Dawn, this is how I've decided to do your gallery.

Who Wants Jelly Donuts?

"A beautiful girl of about 17 asked a nonbeliever to promise that he would, on his own, honestly ask God to reveal Himself to him. He said he would if she promised to honestly write a letter to Santa and ask for presents."

Only one match today. BT: Movement in Still Life.

Since I finally put stats on my Crush! pages, I find I'm getting a lot of hits from people looking for crush vids. So here are the search args: crush, feet, mice, mouse, cat, heels. And if this brings you here, this is my special message to you: fuck you ever so much. Get off my site and go kill yourself.

Kelly has blessed many people with his VCR. He taped the finales of X-Files and Voyager for me, which I watched with great enjoyment. Then I discovered that Paul had missed the X-Files finale, so I sent the tape on to Chicago. Next, I discovered Tracy had missed the Voyager finale, so Paul will be sending the tape back to Medford, Oregon. He's sending it Saturday, so some time in the middle of next week, the Happy Tape will again be available. Did you miss either of these finales? Would you like to be the next in line to receive the Happy Tape? It's getting a bit worn at this point, but should still be watchable. Let me know, first come first served. You must be willing to forward the tape on if someone else gets in line. Happy Tape wants to see you.

Anil is back!

Stressed?

Ally has me beat by one percentage point. At 17%, I'm a helluva lot less stressed than I thought. Maybe that's the problem. I'M SUFFERING FROM TOO LITTLE STRESS. Quick! Somebody have a lurid affair with me and break my heart!

I should be asleep. I wonder how many blog entries begin that way? We are a late-night bunch. In any case, I'm up doing a mix (hi Stuart!), but not the mix I'm supposed to be doing (hi Jamie!). That's alright, I'll get to it tomorrow. Or the next day. I did try to sleep for a while. The air was heavy, my neighbors were playing music just quietly enough so I can't complain, and I had my nightly thought about Death. It's getting to be a nasty habit. Laying on my side, my thoughts drift...to some horrible accident, or a burst appendix, or apnea, or any number of ways to die. And then I'm frightened. I'm afraid of death for a couple of reasons. First, I really dig being alive, and the thought that it could suddenly be all over scares the piss out of me. Second, I don't have any faith in a hereafter. That can be a very comforting thing. Ah well, I makes my bed, I gots ta sleep in it. The thoughts come quickly, and I just as quickly turn them away. I don't want to lay there and be morbid. I distract myself by thinking about work, sex, anything but stabbing pain and struggling to call an ambulance. Anything but getting hit by a bus. Anything but a heart attack on the riverfront. Er, excuse me while I go cruise some Hugh Jackman sites. I need an adjustment.

I hadn't been over to visit Molly in a while. The Star-Telegram has done a nice re-design, and you can finally see more than one of Molly's articles. I still wish there were a full archive, but you can't have everything.

I'm waiting for the day when I can match all the CDs in Jerwie's Rotate This in my collection. Usually I have two. Today it's the Depeche Mode and the Travis. Our musical taste intersects in many places, so I just know that someday it will look like his rotate list came right off my shelves. I don't know what I'll do that day. Something special. Probably buy CDs.

There's something very satisfying about playing the song in your head. All morning my brain's soundtrack has been The Metre by Powderfinger, so I brought the disk to work and played it. Ahhhh.

I don't talk about my dreams a lot here, but this one is noteworthy for the fact that I spoke in complete and rather thought-provoking sentences. It was so unusual that once I awoke I couldn't go back to sleep, and had to write down what my dream-self had said.



I had an appointment to speak with Douglas Adams, the recently-dead author. Mr. Adams was very eccentric (and looked like a low-rent Ray Wise--I've been watching too much Twin Peaks), and preferred a chat client to speaking. I met him in the parking lot of a store, and he was driving me home in his pickup so I could access my computer. I think I was trying to kiss up. I said:

"Most people think that the purpose of human language is to share important information, when in fact most of our time speaking is spent mirroring how we relate to our own environment.

"Written communication requires a certain precision. Human language has nearly evolved to the point where we can dispense with spoken conversation and go entirely online."

I guess I have a pseudo-intellectual unconscious. While I'm not sure I agree with what I said, it does raise some interesting conversation (ha!) points.



First, it insinuates that communicating how we relate to our environment ("this building is on fire") is somehow less important than communicating information ("the building you are in is on fire"). Of course most of our discourse is spent explaining our own environment. Where else would it begin? Personal pages are an interesting corollary. It could be said that links pages are communicating directly (though an argument for environment could be made), while journaling is relating one's environment. This very value judgement is often made among those who keep pages of both types. There's an odd inferiority complex among journalers (I'm speaking very generally here). Linkers somehow have more credibility. I'm going to say outright that I reject this value judgement from my own experience. It is when I'm at my most personal when my audience is most engaged. Rather than a sense of voyeurism, what they've told me is that by relating my own life, they think seriously about theirs. I believe that has great value.



Finally, the comment about the evolution of language is fascinating. Think about all the developments that online communication has necessitated. Emoticons to clarify intention, abbreviations to overcome the slower speed of typing vs. speaking. These conventions begin at the fingertips of often-anonymous people, and spread virus-like through a community until they are standardized. I don't agree that language is evolving to the point of eliminating the spoken word--but it is evolving--more rapidly than ever before in history. It is an amazing process to watch.



I like it when my subconscious gives me something to chew on, but I'm glad it doesn't happen very often. I wasn't meant to think this hard this early in the morning. Thank goodness the rest of the dream involved socks.

See, this is why I helped Dawn set up a blog. That post got a big "awwww" from me.

The Haunted Web


Late night visitors to frytopia have reported faint mewing, and sometimes a fleeting vision of the Energizer Bunny--but nothing has been substantiated.

Who's your momma?

About a year ago, I designed and hosted a site for my friend Dawn. I never linked to it because, frankly, I thought I'd done a terrible job. But she was happy enough, so it remained. I do want you to know that the midi was not my idea. Hee. Recently I offered her a redesign. I wanted to make something for her that I could be proud to link to. Or at least not mortified about. She'd recently got a new tattoo, and we used that for a theme. It's my usual spare design. There are a few quirks to work out, and the gallery isn't up, and she hasn't started posting to her blog yet. Okay, okay, so it's not really ready to show. Nyah. Here it is anyway.

Every once in a while, something shows up in the referrer logs that isn't actually a referral. I have no idea how it happens--maybe it just picks up a previous page from someone's surf. At least this page was cool.

Your husband's name is Wallace Shawn and you have 2 children. You're a Actor who drives to work everyday in a electric blue PT Cruiser.



It's truly a wonderful life when you consider the countless romantic nights you have spent with Wallace Shawn in your shack in Australia.




Incontheivable!

Random thoughts:

• Jeezus but I was incredibly prolific yesterday.
  
• House is clean, I have a book to read, a mess of new CDs, and a few episodes of Twin Peaks. It's the third day of a three-day weekend, and dammit, I intend to make the least of it.
  
• I can't decide if it was a good dream or a bad dream. Sure, we lived in a nice place--he's very rich--but he'd rather fall asleep to the television than put out. I've decided not to marry Sam Neill.
  

Alright buddy, you're on.

Oops, forgot one:

Alpha: The Impossible Thrill



I swear I didn't buy this just because there's a cat on the cover. The store was playing an Alpha disk so I thought I'd check them out. Okay, so they weren't playing the Alpha disk with the cat on the cover. Heh. Nice kitty.

It should be obvious at this point that I've been in a CD-buying mood. I ventured out at lunchtime today up to Everyday Music, and went rifling through their skuf bins. Bought a few there, and a few new:

Andy Summers and John Etheridge: Invisible Threads



I've only heard bits of post-Police Andy, but it's been interesting. For $4.25, it was worth a shot.







Cake: Prolonging the Magic



I long ago decided I needed to add Cake to my music collection. I haven't heard this disk, but it looks like I screwed up. The reviews are scathing, and on top of that I bought the "clean" version. Lucky me. Again, not much of a loss at $4.25. I love skufs.







Matthew Sweet: 100% Fun



It took a few years before I was no longer sick of "Sick of Myself". Now I want to hear it again.







Talking Heads: Fear of Music



Thus begins my Byrne collection. I said I would, and I will.







Sigur Ros: Ágætis Byrjun



I'm on a couple music mailing lists, and we've been sharing our faves lately. A name I keep hearing is Sigur Ros. I went on the judgement of people with similar tastes, and decided to give them a try cold. They're in the player now. I think it's a good thing.

The Reading List:

• Geegaw
  
  
  "Yes, & tonight confirmed it: women who love to eat are absolutely my favorite kind of women. Luckily, as the poet says, 'is stuffed, the world, wif feeding girls.'
  
• Mena (via Paul)
  
  
  "I'm horrible with numbers and no matter how hard I tried to rig the outcome of the game, I always ended up with living in a shack with a yellow Pinto."
  
• Shyaku
  
  
  "Now I'm just stalling for time."
  
• Soft Music for Stupid People
  
  
  "I do however still need to acquire at least half a dozen monkeys. I will write again soon."
  

Simplicity: Waking Up

Went out wearing my Blogger shirt, hoping some fellow web geek would recognize me. Apparently they were all home blogging. As I was getting on the bus for home, I saw a very confused squirrel on the sidewalk, rushing from door to door. I think he would have gone into a building if the opportunity presented itself. He was happy enough. Squirrels in Portland are fearless. Speaking of Portland, I think I've become an honorary city guide. I've often directed strangers here and there. Been happy to walk that little old lady to her car when she'd parked in a dangerous spot. But it was always an occasional thing. Now it's constant. I think there are two things at work: First, I live by the train AND bus stations, so there are a lot of touristas in my immediate vicinity. That doesn't cover the fact that I get asked for directions all over the city. The second thing is that I've become the city. Since I've moved back downtown, a strange melding has taken place, and I've become an appendage of Portland. This is apparently obvious to everyone. So of course, if you want to know where to get cheap clothes, how to get to the Rose Garden or Powell's Books, or where Couch Street is, you ask a walking, talking piece of the sidewalk. I know I would.

I want to go to brunch with someone. I'm hungry, and I want to get outside and be with a friend. Looks like Kelly and John are gone. Scott will probably say No, 'cuz that's the first thing he says to everything. Hang on, I'll try anyway...



...he's not answering. Probably still asleep. I'd call Janie or Anna or Megan, but I'm really in the mood for a guy friend today. Kyle hates me. Dave is...uncomfortable right now. Jamie's in Maryland. Jerwin's in Toronto. Paul and Jeani are in Chicago. I just realized I have a sudden paucity of local male friends. I gotta fix that. Jamie, Jerwin, Paul: grab your SOs and move to Portland immediately.


Heh, yeah, that'll work.

Just got a google hit from someone looking for "narcissist email support groups." I had to laugh. There are so many loser geeks that get their only attention via email. Me included. The entire web is a narcissist email support group. In fact, I bet almost every blogger has begged for email at least once. I know I have. I'd go dig up the post if I weren't so freakin' lazy. I'd beg for mail now just to make my point, except I'm not feeling particularly needy these days. Oh, hell, why not. Send me email. I'll answer you, and then we'll both be happy.

I've listened to the David Byrne disk about four times now. I don't have a lot of history with Byrne, so keep in mind that I don't have the context of his overall body of work. I don't know how it happened, but some time in my distant past I found him inaccessible. Well I'm going to be accessing everything after this. Here are a couple things I can tell you about this album. First, it makes me feel good. Really, really good. Like he's got subliminals in there. Second, I can't stay still while it's playing. Seriously, my leg is pistoning as I type. The craftsmanship on these songs is astounding. He is at the top of his lyrical dexterity. I find myself becoming familiar with catchy hooks much more quickly than usual. I tend to listen to disks in the background of whatever I'm doing--it can take me a day on repeat before I pick out faves. After just a few listenings, I'm getting ready for a sing-along. It may be lighter fare than expected--lots of tropical beats, and even some classic disco devices here and there. It works. And did I mention it makes me feel good?

I've actually been buying a lot of music online, but I haven't been talking about it because it's all David Bridie and I figured you'd get annoyed with me after a while. So here's some new non-David (well, except the one...oh, nevermind):

David Byrne: Look Into the Eyeball


Heard he's still doing things no one else does. I could use something different.







R.E.M.: Reveal



I haven't liked an REM song in years. Imitation of Life was worth buying for.







Moulin Rouge Soundtrack



Listened to some of this at Kel's. Big music. I like Ewan's voice--can't wait to hear what he does on his own.







Depeche Mode: Exciter



Dunno why. Just had an urge.

Having trouble keeping up with all those disappearing blogs? Davezilla helps out. Once again, I reiterate, I am not quitting. When your favorite blogger falls of the face of the earth, feel free to run into my waiting arms. Linkie via Jessajune.



PS: I was just reminded that the original idea for this came from Paul via a MeFi thread. C'mon guys, credit where credit's due!



PPS: It was all a cosmic coincidence. Everybody's happy.

I'm having one of those days when I'm just really happy to be here. Even though the Pepsi machine at GSA is down and the convenience store is closed for a break and I can't get a Mountain Dew. I'm enjoying myself. Snif. I love you guys.

Paul redesigns. Beautiful as usual. The colors he's used have a certain flavor for me. I like it. Most importantly, Paul has taken a great leap forward in usability. The site has a consistent look and easy navigation, while still being truly lovely. Very nice.

Whoah, Rachie! Just reading that freaked me out a little. Maybe it is the end of the world.

My standard sig on my personal mail includes the URL to this site. Sometimes I send an email to someone for whom that sig is inappropriate, so I change it. Sometimes I forget to change it. Going through my referrer logs early this morning, I saw a hit from a familiar email client. At first I thought: "Shit, hope he's not easily offended." On further rumination, I decided it was no big deal. Yeah, this site can be raw at times, but mostly it's just inane. Ooh, I got a Blogger shirt. Ooh, I saw the Star Trek finale. Ooh, my pants are on fire for ____. You have to dig a bit to get inside my head. But even if people dig, I don't mind. If I didn't want folks to know, it wouldn't be on the web. And believe me, I do keep a lot of stuff off the site. Ha, you thought it was all here, din'tya?



In any case, if you're poking around again (I bet you know who you are), I don't mind. Poke away.

I'm wearing it. I'm cool.

Paul is up to something. I'm all tingly and excited. Er, I didn't mean it that way.

Okay, I've seen it. I won't post any spoilers either...but oh! Yay! I liked it! Ooh!

I can't read Trubie until after I've watched the X-Files finale that Kelly taped for me. I'm watching it tonight. Boy, have I been going through trubedrawals. Post something wonderful, I'll be there to read it later!

Up down. Up down. Up down. Shit, this site today is the closest I've come to getting laid in ten years.

Ahhh, back up. All things considered, not bad. This is the first outage I've had with HostPilot. I've been very impressed with these guys overall. And they have great customer service.

I know I shouldn't, but because of all the crap I've gone through with my sites, I panic when they're down for a bit. I love my sites. I want them to be up all the time! Well, at least I can still post to Blogger, even if I can't publish.

Reasonable people everywhere breathe a sigh of relief. In this country, it's crazy to have one party controlling everything. This assures a little more balance for the next few years.

I can't say much about Voyager since Tracy is reading this and she can't see the show for a few days...but let me just say: perfect. I loved the finale. Good job, guys.

Don't Let Disney Teach You About History! DJ at Randomwalks shares a well-written screed on Pearl Harbor. When I first saw the trailers, I was pretty jazzed; however, there have been no pre-screenings, which is worrisome. And from what I'm hearing...there may be better things to do with my time

Check out tip #7. They're right, ya know.

Metafilter is gone. At least for the moment. If anyone can help Matt out, pop him a note, eh? I sure as hell would if I had the resources. MeFi is the most intelligent community on the web.

Tonight's the big night. Or one of them. There have been a few big nights throughout my career as a die-hard Trekker. I've been there through cool and uncool, from TOS to Voyager. Seven years ago, my house was filled with pink balloons--the theme was "It's a Girl!" for the new captain. I should have scanned in a couple of pics, it was a great party. Tonight will be quieter. I'm no longer the captain of a large ST club, and I've drifted away from most of those folks. Except for Kelly. He and I will have dinner and watch the end of Star Trek: Voyager. The show hit its stride in the last few years--I've really enjoyed watching. I'll probably get a little teary-eyed tonight, just because. Then I'll get ready for Scott Bakula to take over. Maybe I'll throw a party.

Fuck BlogVoices. It pulled my site down AGAIN. You know, I don't care if a web app doesn't work from time to time, but when I takes me down too, it pisses me off. I can't believe I fell for it again. Shit. Comments are gone. For good.

The story goes mainstream in this badly-written MSNBC article. It happened a few hours ago, actually. I do have work to do ya know. For those who cooperated with the press and have already been steamrolled: don't feel like it's your fault. The press does this to everybody. We should expect the reportage to be shoddy. If anyone wants the real story, there are plenty of sources.

On the reading list of late:

• Stephen Biosvert
  
  Forget where I found him. Forget why. Doesn't he look like a total smart-ass? I like that.
  
• the path
  
  
  Everybody say: "ooooh!" And the content isn't bad either.
  

In an odd mood. Want to go home. No, it isn't that I don't want to be here. I like work. I'm having a good time. But today, I really, really want to be home. Playing with the cats, messing with web pages, eating cold Chinese food. Well, I'll go home for lunch in about 45 minutes. We'll see if that cures my couch craving. Until then, I think I'll go mess up someone's computer...

Did I say that was the last Kaycee-Nicole post? Silly me. For those who would like to follow the continuing investigation in-depth, join the eGroup.

As promised, here is Part Four. This is in fact the last part I'll post, because it's a FAQ covering the whole affair and will be updated. I don't have any comments yet. I probably won't--others have said anything I would want to say.

The first thing I did this morning when I walked into the office was knock my pen cup off my desk, scattering writing implements everywhere. Then that tiny headache just above my left eye came back. And I'm still in a reasonably good mood. Not sure what's up with that. Good food? Adequate rest? Whatever it is, it has to stop.

I forgot to mention that my boss said something very endearing the other day. I was complaining because I did something nice for our users (all IE 5.5) that didn't work in Netscape and so wouldn't be visible in some of the other offices around the country. His reply? "Screw the Netscape users."

So now that I've discovered Icy Hot, I want to talk about my grandpa. Oi, that's gonna look strange out of context.



When I refer to Grandpa, I'm talking about my mother's father John. My memories are clouded by years, so relatives may read this and have different recollections. Too bad. Get your own web page.



Grandpa lived in Battleground, Washington, in a tiny house on a busy street. The house sat on a lot twice its size, and there he gardened and raised worms. I remember the rich loamy smell of the raised beds he kept in a large shed on the back of the property. He would turn the soil with his hands and bring up a fistful of worms to show me. The Nightcrawlers were the most impressive--huge and pale. He showed me where the worm's heart was, and I could see it beating. There were beds of little red worms--I don't remember what they were called. I was entranced by the Nightcrawlers.



Elizabeth, my biological grandmother, died when Mom was thirteen, so for a Grandma I had John's second wife, Irene. It didn't dawn on me until much later the significance of the fact that everyone, including myself, called her Irene and not Grandma. I wish now I'd known the difference and just called her Grandma. She wasn't a warm woman--rather a bit distant, but pleasant. She always gave me graham crackers, whether or not my parents approved. That kind of thing will get a kid on your side forever. Irene had a daughter from a previous marriage, Carol-Dean. Here's a strange thing--I grew up with my cousin David, who is developmentally disabled. I'd only ever known kids with his disability, and for some reason, I thought it only affected children. So I just thought Carol-Dean wasn't quite with it. I remember her greeting us on the porch--she was always overjoyed to see us. Carol-Dean would grab each of us in turn, squeezing until joints began to pop. I thought more than once that I might die unpleasantly as I was clasped to her bosom.



Grandpa's house was always a bit dark. The old couch had a kitten-patterned throw over the back. A few chairs sat in shadowed corners. A bookshelf separated the livingroom and dining room. I remember that most of the tomes were religious--Grandpa was a Jehovah's Witness in his later years, converted by Irene. The kitchen table was where the adults sat to talk. Grandpa laughed with a bellowing cackle. I fidgeted in the livingroom and became increasingly bored as the day wore on. From time to time I'd beg Grandpa for one of those pink mints he kept in his shirt pocket. That only worked once or twice. Finally, at the end of an interminable day, he'd pull down the stairs to the attic and I'd go up to sleep in the tiny room with the slanted ceiling.



John Meyer died when I was about twelve. He went in for cataract surgery and had a stroke on the table. I can't honestly say I knew him well. I remember brooding when he died, but not really grieving. Irene outlived him by several years--by then I'd grown and lost touch with that side of the family, and only heard about it later. The memories are surreal, like a darkened dream described by someone else.



Graham crackers are now a rare and special treat, and I still love those pink mints. I bought a bag of them once and ate too many and got sick. All the time I was thinking--Grandpa's not here, so I can have more than one! Guess he was smarter than I thought. And I still think Nightcrawlers are pretty cool.

You bet I bought a t-shirt! I'm wondering what ordinary folk will think the "B" stands for. Ha, no I'm not.

On a much less serious note: I usually buy some generic form of Icy Hot when I'm suffering from mouse shoulder. This time, I bought the real thing in cream form. I'll never go back to generic. No, it doesn't work any better. But it smells like those big pink mints that my grandpa used to give me. So who cares if it works? It makes me feel good anyway.

I was never involved in the story. I'd seen the site, and it was a bit too saccharine for my taste. However, the mystery that has grown up around the story of Kaycee is completely fascinating. A girl battling leukemia loses bravely. Or does she? If you have a little time, this is a journey you may want to take. You'll learn about love, betrayal, internet celebrity, cynicism, and a host of other goodies.



Part One


Part Two


Part Three



I highly suspect we'll see Part Four by the end of the week.

Baz talks about, you know, that movie. I'm afraid to read the thing, even though it claims to be more or less spoiler-free. But I'm "marking" it (get it? Bazmark? Marking? Nevermind) for later.

Who farted?



(You-know-who visited Portland last week. The woman with the scrunchy face is our mayor, Queen Vera Katz.)

Stupid Things


Sometimes I say stupid things. I'm not referring to any particular stupid thing--this is more cautionary. If you come to know me, eventually I will say something stupid. You'll let it pass because you've seen me be brilliant.



If you don't know me, it can all be rather off-putting. First thing out my mouth, some awkward spew. Just let it go, knowing that I'll be kicking myself for at least two days over it. Sometimes I'll think about it as I'm going to sleep, and I'll feel myself blush all over again.



So, in advance, sorry about that. I have great moments and I have spectacularly bad moments. Most of them are somewhere in between. Hope you won't judge me too harshly.

How many movies to you go to where the audience applauds afterwards? Not just scattered applause, but everyone. Thought so. Go see Shrek.

A very good summation of my own thoughts on A Knight's Tale.

It was a lot of fun, but not as fun as it should have been.

Remember the help column? No, I'm not bringing it back from the dead; however, a while ago I did take down the links. I kept getting letters because the old pages still had an invitation to write me. Tonight, they're back in the Core Dump section, all fixed so I won't get any more desperate inquiries. Some of the columns are soda-spitting funny, but I think my favorite is still a heartfelt serious one.

This weekend's to-do list:

• Get PMO guestbook up & purchase extra space

• Reformat rest of Core Dump & add Help.

• Add stats to crush pages

• Finish Dawn's gallery

• Play Exile all weekend long, completely forgetting about the hogwash above.

Happy birthday Trubie,

I know I'm a day late,

But still I do like you-bee,

'Cuz you are simply great!



Wow, that really sucked. But you don't. Happy B-day.

Oooh! Look what my friend Tracy sent me! THANK YOU! YOU ROCK! She tells me that every year on her birthday (which is next week), she sends a gift to someone else, and this year it's me. Frankly, I think it's just an excuse to get the game into my hands sooner (she bought it a week ago, and I was going to wait), because we love to play the same stuff at the same time and dish. Most women gossip about makeup and movie stars. Yes, I do harbor a certain sense of superiority.

Congratulations, darling! You're certainly one of my favorite cool and happening homos.

Are there any Portland folks reading this? If so, write me. I have a project in mind.

Trying to live more lightly on the planet, but still addicted to stuff? Get it here and feel a little better.

Okay, I don't normally do the weird search request thing, but two googles today are too wacky to ignore:

• pictures of humans turning into pokemon
  
• piranha bowling ball
  

I've noticed a pattern. My favorite exes are funny. In fact, if I separate my exes into two groups, funny and not-funny, I find I'm no longer talking to the not-funny ones. They just drifted away into the unfunny world.

Requirements

1. To get off my ass.
   
2. Food, water, air, shelter.
   
3. Love.
   
4. Money.
   

I want:

1. Paint.
   
2. A new television.
   
3. A lot more CDs.
   
4. Love.
   

I have:

1. A good haircut.
   
2. Bad skin.
   
3. A lot of work to do.
   
4. Most of what I need.
   

Thank you, oh thank you for pointing out this spectacularly entertaining site. Of course I feel a bit behind the curve for having not seen it sooner. But that's me, a day late and a dollar short.

Entrapment


Like most blogs, I get some strange and disturbing searches. Ewan Mgregor Penis Pics. Picture of My Boobs. Naked Toddler. Of course some combination of something I said results in a solid hit. So I was thinking of having a little fun. I'm going back to the original entries that draw these hits, and making a little change--though I'll keep the original text that draws the search in the first place. Lessee...how about...

YOU HAVE REACHED A FEDERAL ANTI-PORNOGRAPHY AFFILIATE SITE. YOUR IP ADDRESS HAS BEEN LOGGED AND YOUR PICTURE HAS BEEN CAPTURED VIA REMOTE MONITOR TECHNOLOGY. HAVE A NICE DAY.

Question for the general readership: How do I find out why the U.S. flag is at half-mast? It happens on a fairly frequent basis, and no one ever knows what happened. I'm curious. It's irritating. I looked at the news releases at George's site but didn't find anything. Rrr. I'm a federal employee. I should know who died.

Chicken Soup for the Soulless.

Ahhh...my hair is all short again. If I'm using hair spray, it's too damned long. I'm just lazy about asking for a haircut. I trade my friend Dawn, who is a smashing stylist (and smashingly stylish), haircuts for web design. I'd link, but I'm doing a major re-design of her site right now. Anyway, it's a great deal for both of us. I've had long hair at times in my life, but only because I've put off getting the flippin' stuff cut.

Also, trading my skills for services and goods fits right in with my personal philosophy. Other things for which I would trade web design services:

• Rides to nice hiking trails
• Effusive praise (but this only goes so far)
• Friendship
• Sticky rice
• Sex
• Introductions to celebrities

But hey, don't feel limited by this list. I'm open to negotiation.

I've come to realize that, for me, french fries are merely a ketchup-delivery system.

While my personal take is not one of protest, but of conservation, this is a nice concept, and I'll be participating:

Roll your own blackout
1st day of summer

Thursday, June 21, 2001

7-10pm worldwide, all time zones

In protest of George W. Bush's energy policies and lack of emphasis on efficiency, conservation and alternative fuels, there will be a voluntary rolling blackout on the first day of summer, June 21 at 7pm -10pm in any time zone (this will roll it across the planet).

It's a simple protest and a symbolic act. Turn out your lights from 7pm-10pm on June 21. Unplug whatever you can unplug in your house. Light a candle to the sungod, kiss and tell, make love, tell ghost stories, do something instead of watching television, have fun in the dark.

Forward this e-mail as widely as possible, to your government representatives and environmental contacts.
Let them know we want global education, participation and funding in conservation, efficiency and alternative fuel efforts-- and an end to over-exploitation and misuse of the earth's resources.

Matthew Follett

Program Director

The Green House Network

PMB 154

16869 SW 65th Ave

Lake Oswego, OR 97035

help@greenhousenet.org

www.greenhousenet.org

503-639-9352

The Green House Network is a Portland, Oregon-based, 501(c)3 non-profit organization dedicated to grassroots public education about the dangers of global warming and the need for urgent action to reduce greenhouse gas emissions. Our mission is to create a clean energy future that can stop global climate change by uniting business, government and citizens.

Via Jenifer

Sites currently on the radar:

• Randomwalks
  
  
  A group blog that manages to be endlessly interesting. A bright and barmy (in a good way) bunch.

• Plasticbag.org
  
  
  I'm trying to remember why I stopped reading Tom. I can't for the life of me place the reason. I must have been temporarily insane. Well, no more, dammit!

• mitee.net
  
  
  Do I have to have a reason? Hrm. I just like reading mitee. So nyah.

• Bitchlog
  
  
  I have a bone to pick with this person. Firstly, the title is hackneyed. Secondly, this is about as far from a bitchlog as humanly possible. Jenifer is wonderful, entertaining, and informative read. I'm getting truly addicted to this one. Maybe if enough people inform her that she is NOT a bitch... (teasin' with ya, you can call yer site whatever you like)

CONGRATULATIONS!

I've been checking other blogs using BlogVoices for some time now, watching for loading problems. I get the impression from the site that the culprit was the number-of-posts feature, which has now been removed. So, intrepid readers, I'm going to try it again. Now all I have to do is say something comment-worthy.

Bush Proposes Hiring Scores of Gun Prosecutors.


Better than a poke in the eye with a sharp stick. Still, I can't help but feel that there are more sensible ways to deal with the issue.

Yay! Bad guy all gone. Me thirsty.

Why is it that whenever there is an arrest, and I have to lock my door and stay put for a while (they come right past my office), my mouth chooses that very moment to get a terrible craving for a Mt. Dew? I hate when that happens.

Okay, since Ev said try it, I tried it. Looks like the B is back up for now. And I'm probably too lazy to hand-post for a whole week.

Crush. I'm betting this one will surprise a few people.

Does anyone else think that Mark (just keep reloading) looks like Luke Skywalker? Delightful ad campaign for non-delighful movie via Tom

Jerwie has a good point. Think I'll try that m'self. I am, however, not clever enough for permalinks. Okay, that's not true--I'm just lazy. Sorry. I've stuck the entries from the weekend in the appropriate spot below.

Just an FYI to the faithful--yes, I'm having the same Blogger problems as everyone else. I'm posting this by hand. When the Big B is back, there will be more juicy goodness.

• A CD player
  
• Two favorite CDs
  

Imagine that the Smithsonian tapped on your door and asked to archive your site to preserve part of the national heritage of the U.S. Well, the National Library of Australia is that country's equivalent body. They have asked to archive Paul Mercurio Online as part of PANDORA. PMO has been deemed to be of "lasting cultural value". Wow. It's been a very good day.

Mmmm....organically-grown strawberries dipped in black-top yogurt, half a squishy bagel topped with lite cream cheese (back off, I happen to like the stuff) and teriyaki smoked oysters, and a glass of skim milk. I love Webvan. If they ever go out of business, I'm doomed to cold pizza and Chinese food forever.

Goodbye, old friend. News like this makes me want to go back to bed. Death seems incongruous when applied to a great humorist. It's the wrong punchline.

Kitty is taking the day off. No, I'm not doing a "sickie", I actually took a day of leave, so nyah. Feeling kind of confidence-shot and socially awkward and blocked. Time to take a three-day and regroup. Today I budget the paycheck, buy some CDs (more Bridie, of course), get some PAINT (yes that's right, I haven't done it yet), maybe get a new tv that will work with the DVD player so I can do Netflix. Also have some sites to work on. Plenty to occupy my feeble mind. All this plus leftover Chinese food. I am predicting a good day.

Ah, odd synchronicities. Yesterday, I found a site I really like. Today, I find her mentioned in another site I really like. It isn't a big deal, but it was for some reason a bit gratifying.

A cure for poverty? Depression and poverty dance hand-in-hand. Treat one and the other lifts. The problem is getting depressed people, who are apathetic in the extreme, to accept treatment. This article says the effort is worth the trouble. I keep thinking, wow, this could really change the whole flippin' world. It really could. Via FMH

I've freaked out another blogger by hitting his site from work. Yep, I'm with the fed. Look out. BTW, your permalinks no workie.

Ended up going anyway. Nevermind. I just hate doing the martyr thing. Um, thanks Robert.

I love it when someone says something profound, and doesn't even realize it (no permalinks on this site, sorry):

Thursday, April 19, 2001



I wrote the first few paragraphs of my autobiography on an envelope when we were going to pick up dad.



I left it on the kitchen table. Mom said to put it away because it was "disturbing."



Fuck her. It's my life. It's my opinion. I'll say whatever the hell I want.



She doesn't know me anymore.

Kel pretty much nailed my opinion of The Mummy Returns. There were things that were done with CGI that really shouldn't have been. There were people kicking my seat and talking. But it was okay overall. And Oded Fehr is just hot as hell.

Sites I've been checking out lately:

• Eat More Cake!
  
  
  I like the title. Written by a chef in Melbourne--which is about as far from my own life as possible.
  
• History Assignments
  
  
  I'm really hoping this takes off, because it looks like it will be fun to watch.
  
• Follow Me Here
  
  
  Just started looking in--got it off Blogger. So far it's fascinating and informative. Part of me hopes I'll find that one thing that will make me less of a shithead.
  

This may well be one of those days where my readers think: "Hey, why is she blogging so much? Shouldn't she be working?" Um, yeah.

Well it's about damned time. Actually, I have a backlog of crushes. I was going to wait until I was on my own server again, but then I decided to stick with Hostpilot because Qwest has proven untrustworthy. Imagine that. So we'll be putting up some new boys!

Ew, that face.

I just found my favorite quote for the month, and best of all, it's by David Bridie:

"Look, if you don’t think the world’s right, there’s no point sitting in your room smoking a joint and doing nothing about it. That’s hypocrisy. And the idea shouldn’t be that doing a good thing makes you a better person. To me, if you don’t do anything, you’re a shithead."

Of course it makes me feel like...a shithead. Sure, I rant and I write, but do I actually do anything? No. And here's why: I don't know what I care about. I don't have that one cause that lights a fire in my soul. Sure, I give to the organization that does what I think matters most, but what else? What gets me off my complacent Yankee ass?

I've been left cynical by the passage of years watching unending cycles of disaster, abuse, and illogic. In the end I've only come up with futility. I don't like that about myself. Not a bit.

Are you a fellow shithead, or do you have a cause for which you fight? Tell me about it, and I'll make it part of an extended discussion here.

Andrew has re-designed. I really need to add this guy to my short list. His designs have an organic rightness about them. His visuals appeal to me on a level I can't explain. There's very little glitter about Andrew--what he has is there to take in immediately, without sorting through a lot of fluff. My only complaint is that I'd like to see more of his mind in his blog. Speak to us.

Saw The Dish yesterday with Janie. What a wonderful film! I'll try to remember to write more about it over in the movie blog if I get a chance. Ended up at Tower, but didn't buy anything. Not that I didn't look...but lately everything I'm interested in these days is at Chaos, and nowhere else.



Also had a great conversation with a friend this weekend. On the phone. Those who know me are now thinking: "Cat on the PHONE?? No way!" But it's true. I think I hit my phone quota for the year. We'd both been feeling isolated, and it all rushed out in an hour of interesting babble. Okay, maybe only interesting to us. For example: "I wish they'd get past the part where he stumbles into the girl's bedroom and steps in a pile of bras, and get to the part where the giant robots blow up stuff." Hmm...maybe that's universally interesting. You guys into giant robots?

This movie scared the holy crap out of me. I was in a mood to rent a bunch of what I thought would be bad horror movies. Campy flicks I could laugh at. I didn't expect to be looking away from the television and begging my cats not to get off my lap. Francisville is Blair Witch in a haunted house. Five students (or four...it's hard to tell sometimes) enter a house notorious for being the possible safe house of an infamous woman known for medical experiments on unwilling humans. The characters are well-drawn and sympathetic (you'll even like Tim eventually, trust me). The actors did a great job with ad-libbing dialog. Suspenseful pacing had me squirming and shouting "No! Don't open that door! Don't go there!" at the screen. But of course they opened that door, and went there. Watch 'em do it, but I don't recommend you be alone at the time.

[1/29/02: I realize no one liked this film but me. Tough.--c]

I just got the holy fuck scared out of me. Rent it. The St. Francisville Experiment is a haunted house story (which I love) done ala Blair Witch. They acknowledge the root of the idea ("Didja see Blair Witch?" asks Paul), and they do the style very well. I don't scare easily, but this sure as hell did it. I won't be sleeping for a while.

Yeah, okay, so I jumped on the colored-scrollbar bandwagon. Sue me, I think they're pretty. If you have no idea what I'm talking about, they only work in IE 5.5.

A short list of non-sequiturs, brought to you by the fine folks at frytopia:

1. I haven't heard from my goddamned ninjas.
   
2. I can't get that Nelly Furtado song out of my head.
   
3. I want a Violet Crumble.
   
4. I know what you're thinking.
   
5. How the hell do you copy vids? I have two VCRs, but I can't get it to work.
   
6. I want another Violet Crumble.
   

Don't tell my boss...but I got here at 6am. I've known for a while that I was going to have to stretch my hours, but I forgot how tiring long days are. I'm wiped the heck out. Unfortunately, the stretch isn't temporary. We're understaffed, and that's life. In addition, I'm woefully lacking in a couple of areas of knowledge, and I am desperate to take some classes. On the other hand, I'm very fond of my personal life. Lucky I love my job, right? Sigh. Think I'll send a few more ninjas.

There's something soothing about grunt work.



In a small shop (as in three people supporting about 90) everone does everything. There are no menials to do stuff like upgrade RAM or pull hard drives. It's nice once in a while to just hide the in equipment room and pull hard drives (prep for donation) for a couple hours. By the end I'm dirty and bleeding from a couple of nicks, but satisfied. The whine of the electric screwdriver has a meditative quality.



Now if you'll excuse me, I need to get a bandaid and go back to it.

My ninja can assassinate your ninja. So nyah. I've only sent one assassin so far, the deadly Miss Kitty. She's off to kill my friend Scott, just for the heck of it. And because he'll think it's cool. If she succeeds, you're all on my list. Via Steven.

He's always funny, but sometimes he makes me laugh 'til I choke.

I perked up right after that entry below. Had a great meeting with the recently formed Automation Users Group here at work. Something we should have done years ago. When the boss and I put it together, the supervisors kept asking for more and more people. Ack. But it turned out to be a good group. We have fun, productive meetings that leave me energized. That's the way it should be!

Suddenly, everything is a little sad, and I wanna go home. I hate these moments.