Well that kinda sucks and doesn't suck. I was looking through my shelves for Talking Heads: Fear of Music. I'd bought it recently and hadn't had a listen. Couldn't find it anywhere...but where it should be was Bryan Eno and David Byrne's My Life in the Bush of Ghosts. Didn't remember having that one. So I pulled it out...sure enough. I'd bought the Eno & Byrne disk, but the front booklet was from Fear of Music. If I'd realized, I'd have bought it even more enthusiastically.

I calls 'em as I sees 'em.

Lunch Shoppie:

Air: Moon Safari

I've heard the band Air mentioned twice over the last few days for some reason. Since everyone else was eating it, I wanted a bite. Then "Sexy Boy" came on and I thought: "Oh, that Air." They were on my list, I just didn't remember.

I'm a cat I've never heard of. But it's a cute one:

The Snowshoe is gregarious and talkative. She is always ready for fun and will regularly try to instigate a game. While her strong intellect leads her to try new things, it also causes her to become easily bored when a task is mastered. Variety is truly the spice of life for this kitty! Affectionate with others, eager to interact, the Snowshoe is always the ‘belle of the ball’.

Via Trubie the Magnificent

I've received some great feedback from my decision to go veggie. I'm excited to step in to this change. At first, I thought I should finish all the meaty stuff in my house. Okay, I did finish the pork fried rice (I'll just order veggie from now on--I love that stuff!) yesterday. Now the only thing left are a couple cans of teriyaki smoked oysters. No, I never kept much meat in the house in the first place. I'll have to carefully consider the fate of those oysters.

On Repeat:

Del Amitri: Hatful of Rain

I remember a Bloom County featuring a kind of day in the life of Rosebud, the hound with the strap-on antlers. In the last panel, Rosie bears an expression of utmost optimism and joy and exclaims: "Tomorrow, I get to POOP again!"

Yes, it's become a major part of my personal philosophy. And that's all I'm sayin'.

On the subject of Russell Crowe: I don't give a shit how much bad press he gets. He gets it because he doesn't like the press. Well, neither do I. Russ, as far as I can tell, is a fine, fine human being. I like 'im tons and tons. All this comes to mind because the Republic of Bashkortostan (somewhere in the Russian Federation I'm told) has issued this set of stamps. No, I'm absolutely not kidding. I got this from a reputable list, and here they are for sale on eBay. Go Russ!

Remember this? I'm not going this year. I finally found the courage to say no. One of the biggest hurdles to getting out of training was the fact that I would have to admit to my boss that it was a depression trigger. Which means admitting that I have depression. Even though it's largely under control and has been for some time, I still expect to be judged for it. I don't know if that will come to pass, but I did explain that my health is more important than several days of useless (for me) training. I tried to get out of telling him of course, but that didn't work. Ah well. If anyone out there has ever had to admit a mental illness to a supervisor, I'm sure you know what I'm feeling now. Will this taint his opinion of me? Color everything I do from this point forward? I'm hoping he just forgets about it.

Page too stupid. Via Blort.

It's been a very good week for snail mail. Monday, I received a largish check from the IRS for an overpayment. Wednesday, a ticket for Ani DiFranco. Today, after weeks of backorder, I finally received My Friend the Chocolate Cake's Live at the National Theatre. Yes, the band is as delicious as their name.

I can't wait to check the box tomorrow.

Thanks Paul for pointing out Ryan's Veg Blog. Ryan's my new best friend, for various and sundry reasons (uh oh, thinks Ryan). I was looking all over his site last night, and didn't click on that link for some reason. But then, the resolve came this morning, not last night. You know how something can hit you in one moment, and it's a done deal? A lot of the most important decisions of my life have come that way. It's like something works subconsciously, wriggling its stealthy way to the surface, until: POP! New concept! Paradigm shift! I like it like that.

I'm thinking about going on a diet.

[waits for the horrified gasps]

No, not like that. I've been wanting to go vegetarian for a long time, but I lack direction and instruction. For me, it has to be:

1. Clear
   
2. Uncomplicated
   
3. Convenient
   
4. Not require a lot of cooking
   

Ever feel inexplicably lonely?

How about explicably lonely?

Okay, okay, it came right back up. Dammit, the sense of panic almost woke me up.

Which reminds me, I think it's been forever since I mentioned my Yahoo! Club for Portland. Over 700 members, going strong since August of '98. I should put that sucker in my side bar. And yes, I'm still gathering names/sites of Portland webheads for a project to launch soon after the Blogathon completes. Be excited. I know I am.

Just watched Yahoo! do a slow meltdown. The main page is still up, but clubs, my Yahoo, news, just about everything else is down. Someone must be hitting them damned hard. Ouch.

The Blogathon just made it half way to the $10,000 goal! Wow! This is exciting and wonderful. In a fucked up world, this is going a long way toward reaffirming my faith in humanity. There are a lot of philosophies that teach one to look for the good in any situation. The Baha'is say: "If a man has ten bad qualities and one good one, note the one and ignore the ten." Or something like that (sez the Queen of Paraphrasing). During a daily routine that includes reading the news, reading what people have to say about the news, and putting up with ignorance in multiple forms, the ten bad are a constant slap in the face. The 'thon has brought out the one. And it's a shining, beautiful thing. People with all sorts of different skill levels, from all over the web, are joining with others because they give a damn. I guess we're all on the road to not being shitheads.

Envy me. Okay, the government actually owns it, but I get to, um, "work" on it.

By the by, my boss definitely reads this page. Hi Jack! So now I can't say anything bad about the insufferable bastard.

:::sweat:::sweat:::sweat:::

It's good to get all sweaty on the job once in a while. Makes me feel like I'm working. Just moved about three pallets (tall ones) of CPUs and monitors and miscellaneous junk. We donate all our old stuff to schools--sans hard drives. For some reason the idea of a teenager picking through the personal history of a drug dealer doesn't sit well with the boss. Heh. I bet the teenager would find it fascinating. In fact, all that talk about leaving urine samples might be a great deterrent.

When spatulas go too far. If you're even considering buying this, please go here first. Of course I, um, bought a $150 alarm clock because I needed it. Ahem.

A few of my wonderful friends have put Soul of the Web buttons on their pages. Those buttons have been broken for a few days because of unforseeable host issues. Bad host. Host get spanky-spanky. Anyway, the button is fixed now. You can either pick up the new code, or you can just:

1. replace the numerical ip addy in the code with souloftheweb.com
   
2. find the pop up window height attribute and change it from 290 to 300
   

Jerry took the time to go through all my disks, compare them to his to see what we had in common (a lot), and make a long list of recommendations. He did all this very quickly, which leads me to believe Jerry may not be entirely human. But I won't hold that against him. Today for a bit of fun, I printed his list and went on a Lunch Shoppie:

I finally looked up how to do server-side includes. Now I'm embarrassed. Jeezus, I had no idea they were so easy. By the time I'm finished re-doing things, my legs are gonna be black and blue from kicking myself. Uh, is there anything else I should know?

The third time the cats woke me up by tearing through the apartment, I opened the bedroom door and told them to settle down or I would spank. Amazingly, that always works. But by then it was too late, and I was destined for a Day of Cranky. The record in my head is: "Shutup!Shutup!Shutup! Leavemealone! PISS OFF!" I should probably avoid the helpdesk portion of my job today. It's more likely to be fuckyouIhopeyoudiedesk.

Two people today:

I

The woman with the kitten in her coat needed attention. Constantly talking, she called her boyfriend "daddy" over and over. "I've got a chill, Daddy, and I'm afraid I'll give it to you." "If you tell the bus driver where you're going, Daddy, he'll help you." "Daddy, If you don't come back I'll call the jail." Pale and bony, her bulging eyes darted. When she ran out of words, she sang quietly. "Daddy, can I have the CD player?" Exasperated, he asked if she were going to sing with the music. "No." She laughed. "Yes, but I'll only sing to myself."

II

The cute girl ahead of me pulled her right leg down from the ATM. I noticed there was nothing coming out of the sleeves of her white t-shirt. I tried not to stare, but it was fascinating to watch her work the machine. Punching the numbers with her great toe, the panel keys with her little. Talking to friends, she used her right foot as if it were her one arm--completing each task in turn. Pulling the bills to the floor, she nabbed one $20 and stuffed it in her purse. The second one she curled around her tanned toes as she replaced her slip-on sandal.

I know I shouldn't link Paul twice in a row, but I find I must. This is the best creepy story I've read in ages. Oh, the horror-movie plot this could begin...

This reminds me of a story. When I was about four or five, there was a commercial on tv about water safety. It showed people happily frolicking in a pool and asked the question: "Do you know how to breathe under water?" My little brain logically sussed out that you would breathe under water the very same way you did on land. Duh. How obvious.

At this time in my life we lived in a tiny town called Hines, and my mom worked at a motel down the hill from our home. I spent many days playing with the snotty daughter of the owners, Heidi. Heidi was a little older than I was. Blonde, cute, and a little bitchy, she tainted any ability I might have had to like females named Heidi.

On a particular hot summer day, Heidi and I were playing out by the motel pool. She thought I was being water-shy, so she pushed me into the deep end. I wasn't being water-shy--I couldn't swim. Luckily, I'd seen that informative commercial. I kept my wits about me and took a deep breath. I recovered consciousness poolside in my mother's arms.

Saved from a silly-ass commercial by effective parenting.

"Can I have a goldfish now?"

Here's the monstrously expensive new toy. I'd been wanting a wake-to-cd for years. One with certain features. One that I didn't have to travel twenty miles to buy. I keep reminding myself that I'm going to be using this bugger every single day for many, many years (if I don't, there'll be a cute Sharper Image boy with a very large, square arsehole). Still, it definitely tweaked my frugal side. Ow, ow, ow. This had better be good.

Ooh! Ooh! Looks like Jerry's up at the permanent domain. Have fun with your new toy, Jer.

I was checking out yet another referral from a search for "huge jackman" and I found myself perusing my Crush! section. I believe it's my favorite part of this site. So many of us webheads have created complex sites full of various subsections, projects, lists, essays...I bet we all have a pet section. What's your favorite part of your own personal site?

A Fond Farewell

Okay, here's the plot bit:

Characters A and B are in love. Character C is involved in some way--either centrally or peripherally--doesn't matter. Character A overhears part of a conversation between B and C, and a terrible misunderstanding ensues.

This is fine for a movie like Shrek, which is supposed to be light, and is expected to contain standard plot elements. It has no goddamned place whatsoever in a serious film.

Throw this utter predictability in with a generous portion of artless violence, and you've got Romper Stomper.

Perhaps my expectations were too high. I was looking forward to a cross between Trainspotting and American History X. Romper barely makes a pale shadow of these films. This was the film that launched Russell Crowe's career--he won AFI's Best Actor for his performance. I'd say he died well, but other than that I wasn't overly impressed. I was never compelled by his character--I never got into his head. I did like the bit where he's projecting his own desperation onto Gabe, the incest victim with more sense than any of the men in the film, but even that was overdone. This movie obviously made the splash that it did because of shock value--it was the first to bring skinhead culture to a general audience. Its confrontation of racial issues--however overwrought--is admirable.

There are things right with this film. The music is perfect. John Clifford White not only composed a score, he wrote the punk-inspired songs for the film. Jacqueline McKenzie is believable as the slumming rich girl desperate for real affection. The sets are great. Unfortunately, that isn't enough. In a world where you can watch A Clockwork Orange instead, Romper Stomper is worth a pass.

Looking through my disks has given me the sudden urge to go to EM and buy more. Bad Kitty. Er, see ya later. Oh, and if you're waiting patiently for a blogathon response, keep being patient. I'm taking a partial day off.

• In Core Dump: Musika
  Finally got the disks back up.

• 
  In Crush:
  
  

• 
  In Film: Romper Stomper

• 
  In Paul: New pic of Paul & Andrea at the '92 AMAs

I have a funny secret and I can't keep it to myself any more. One of my real-life friends, who shall remain nameless, has a crush on Robyn. Nearly every day he asks: "Has she signed up yet?" and I say: "No, why would she?" Then I go on to explain (again) that I've never actually talked with Robyn, I just like her and linked her--which is how he found the site. We've developed the unfortunate habit of calling her the little meerkat, which is a pretty undignified thing to call a stranger. He just goes on and on. I laugh my ass off. He loves her nose. He loves her sense of humor. I've had web crushes myself, so I do understand. I know he's not a whackjob--hell, he's even cute. I'd consider him dateable if I didn't already know him too well. Not that I'm trying to sell him to poor Robyn or anything--just trying to put her mind at ease should she find this and think she's got a long-distance stalker on her hands. No, no stalker for her. Just a source of tremendous entertainment for me.

I made a little boo-boo whilst looking for Noah's Greymatter, and I stumbled on this. I'm so sorry.

I wanted tickets for Nina Simone and Gypsy Kings, but they were too freakin' expensive. I ended up with Ani DiFranco and Afro-Celt Sound System. I guess I'm just a general-admission kinda gal. Oh, except for Ani, she's in an actual sit-down-and-shut-up venue. Weird.

I want to believe.

I just realized something horrifying, appalling, kinda bad even. Among my wonderful list of sponsors for the 'thon, very few of them are my regular readers. I'm not really sad though. After all, I haven't put up a GREAT BIG BEGGING POST. Also, I know the minimums on the page are a little steep. But hey, they're not hard and fast rules, so just for you (because I love you, each and every stinkin' one of you), I'm gonna say SCREW THE MINIMUMS. Well, sorta. How about a fiver? Or .50/hour? Because I am the 'Thon Goddess, and I can do these things, I've made a special form just for you. Click:

Whoever told me Lateralus has a pretty case was right. Oooh.

Lunch Shoppie

Radiohead: Amnesiac

Afro-Celt Sound System: Volume 3: Further in Time
These guys are coming to town soon.

Tool: Lateralus

Forgot something very important about Powderfinger: cute drummer.

A nickel?? If he thinks you're that cheap, he's got some what-for coming.

Wha?

Heaven help me, I'm a stage pounder. I love to get there early and camp at the foot of the stage,
worshiping at the feet of my favorite musicians. Unfortunately tonight I camped a bit close to the
stage-left speakers. I feel the breeze rustling what's left of my eardrums.

Everyone expects the opening band to suck. Okay, at least I do. Maybe that's why it's such a
pleasant surprise when they don't. Ours hit
the stage looking very London Suede. Imagine my shock when the lead singer opened his mouth
and Jeff Buckley came ringing out. At first. href="http://www.frykitty.com/xspoohie">Janie pointed out a succession of Thom Yorke and
Bono. To top it off, the poor guy looks like Perry Farrell. But Jimmy Gnecco can sing his little
leather-clad lungs out. Complimenting his soaring voice is a tight band including David Milone on
guitar, Anthony DeMarco on keyboards, Race playing a smashing bass, and the amazing Kirke
Jan on a drumkit that drove the band home. Ours' only flaw is that they take themselves a bit too
seriously. Jimmy only smiles when he's not burdened with a guitar--so he should chuck it more
often. Music is supposed to be fun. But overall a good band that's going to be
great--soon. After the set I immediately bought their CD. I'll listen to it when I can hear again.

After Ours, Powderfinger came out to
kick ass and take names. Australia's number one band is obviously used to a larger venue and
more people, but they had fun nonetheless. Bernard seemed to get a kick out of all the screaming
in the audience. For all the screaming, the Portlanders were preternatuarally still. I was one of
about four people dancing. I've noticed that at a few concerts here in Portland--all voice and no
booty. Well, I've got booty, and I shook it. Things were going along swimmingly until about
four songs into the set, when suddenly things started sounding off. I didn't think my hearing was
that damaged--and I was right. A closer listen revealed a bass that was almost a half-step down.
Ouch. Vocals and lead guitar were struggling to find notes, and the mood floundered. A few
songs later, Bernard wisely chatted with the audience while Collins got his damned guitar back
into focus. The band managed to recapture the audience most of the way, but there was no
raucous call for an encore at the end of the set. Make no mistake: Powderfinger is a fantastic
band--they just had a bit of sore luck tonight.

What's on your coffee table?

It isn't that I forgot I was going to see Powderfinger tonight. I just thought it was next week. It's kind of like getting a really cool present when that happens. Uh, thanks, Janie, for reminding me. I'm an idiot.

Someone likes Andrew's design a little more than they should. Andrew doesn't deserve to be ripped off. While I encourage you to be nice and not curse at this clueless person, it couldn't hurt to sign her guestbook and let her know that stealing is bad.

The world needs more police officers like this.

It's strange. It's clever. It's very, very funny. Anagram Interviews from Davezilla.

Before you write, yes, I know there are errors on the page. And my rollovers don't work. That's because I couldn't resist putting up Jocelyn's button for the blogathon. Because I don't have a copy of my template at work, I just opened the Blogger template and made the change. Well, The Blogster has this issue with javascript...ah well. No big deal. Fix it at lunch.

Ah, lucky me. Can't sleep again. It's been many moons. I joke about caffeine, but the truth is it's just plain too hot. I like it cool. A lifelong insomniac for one reason or another, I've read a lot on the subject. One tip that stands out: don't just lay there. If you can't sleep, get up and do something. So here I am. Does this qualify?

Oh! I get it now! I dunno. Maybe. The whole reason I'm doing the 'thon this year is because I struggled with the pointlessness of the exercise last year. If you do it tho--be sure to let me know. It would be cool to have some kind of "hall of fame" list. On a semi-related note--is anyone here old enough to remember the "longest note" war between Barbara Streisand and Donna Summer? Didn't Donna eventually win?

I haven't been sleeping so in the morning I'm a little groggy so I have some caffeine then I can't sleep so I'm tired the next day so I drink a lot of caffeine but then I get insomnia so I'm a zombie the next day so I drink a lot of Mountain Dew but then I stay up too late so I'm bleary the next day so I have some caffeine...

Wooo...haven't been over here much. I can't imagine why. Yes, the Blogathon has taken over my life, and I'm loving it. I also love that my favorite blogger in the whole universe got signed on. And before I get hurt-filled emails from my other friends, yes, I love you too...but Jerwin was there first. I still remember him sending me a sweet little note when I first started my site saying (I'm paraphrasing): "I like you, expect to see your name on my site a lot." Snif. Aw crap, now I'm getting all misty. Must be PMS.

What if I do? I'm willing to go for an after-hours sponsorship, but the price would be steep. At least $5 for every extra hour I manage. I would of course return in kind.

The problem with watching these Aussie flicks is that they mess up my perfectly good American accent for hours.

Hammers Over the Anvil is based upon the stories of the same name by Alan Marshall, who is the central character of this tale set in the Australia of the early 20th century. Like any good book, the story is filled with wonderful, well-drawn characters. The ancient woman who steals wicker chairs and teaches the boys to smoke the cane; the flawed but loving father who used to break horses; the hot-headed young buck who is everyone's idol. But the movie belongs to the boy, Alan, played marvellously by Alexander Outhred. It's a joy to see a young actor not only keep up with, but outshine his older peers.

Beware, this movie sneaks up on you. While at first it appears to be light entertainment, by the end I found I'd been completely sucked into the lives of these characters, and felt their trials most keenly. The sign of a remarkable film.

Ann Turner's direction is creative without being obtrusive. Told in first-person, she takes snippets of that view when it matters. While Outhred shines (he won AFI's Young Actors Award for this film), all the performances in this film are very good. For someone used to watching American westerns, it will be familiar and yet not. Our prairies don't generally sport kangaroos. The final take: Hammers Over the Anvil is a fine film. Highly recommended.

PS: I forgot something rather major in the review above: the music. The soundtrack is by Not Drowning, Waving--one of my favorite bands. I'd actually had the disk for a while, and it was my reason for renting the movie. It was great to see this beautiful music slide in seamlessly with the story. Versatile in the extreme, NDW has no problem bending to the needs of a motion picture without becoming obtrusive. Lovely.

The Reading List

• Crashspace
  
  Straightforward design and short, interesting comments make Crashspace a good read. Plus, they're local. I'm biased.
  
• Orbyn
  
  "I'm a temp. I can quit at lunch."
  
• Perils of Leisure
  
  Sometimes you like a site because you like the person. Paula's domain is one of those places I go back to every once in a while--always new, but always familiar.
  
• Netizen News
  
  Group newsblog with some interesting viewpoints. Plus lots and lots of features I haven't quite figured out yet--but I can't stop going back, so I'll get 'em down.
  

Five Nice Things:

1. Freshly vacuumed carpet
   
2. Fusing tape
   
3. Discovering the broken fan still works
   
4. Water from the refridgerator
   
5. Two cats on the couch
   

• In Core Dump: Death
  We all die. I hope I can do so responsibly. And no, I don't mean I won't make a mess.

• 
  In Crush:
  
  

• 
  In Film: Hammers Over the Anvil
  
  
  I try to keep the puerile comments off the movie site, so let me say here that Russell Crowe is very, very naked in this movie. Very. Naked.

• 
  In Paul: Short interview with Andrea
  
  From 1993. Includes a nice pic.

Okay, I normally hate music on websites, but I keep hitting the play button on this one. Nice.

Something very special: I've been invited to join Soul of the Web. I'm honored to be in such esteemed company. Thank you.

I spoke to myself in wimply language below. Let me try again:

Oh, get over yourself. You're passing up the chance to do some good because of semantics?? Sod off.

I haven't read anything but positive vibes for the 'thon, and I'm grateful. I'm also a little surprised. I figured someone would snark off by now. So, in the spirit of creating controversy, I'll say what I know some people are thinking:

BLOGathon?? That is so five minutes ago. Doesn't she know that the term "blog" has fallen out of favor? None of the cool kids will go for this.

In fact, I prefer the term "personal site" myself. But what would that be? Site-a-thon? Update-a-thon? Webathon? Sorry, but none of those have the ring of "Blogathon." And believe me, the cool kids ARE playing.

If you didn't want us to vote for you, you shouldn't have put yourself on the list. Also, being ugly would help. Tom! Tom! Tom!

These guys deliver great Chinese food, though it isn't 24 hours. Just get 'em late and make it last.

Slightly different button. Click! Clickclick!

Dropped off my last Blockbuster rentals. It's all Netflix now, baybee. On the train back, I saw a woman with a t-shirt that said: "Republican women...like men!" I'm glad she cleared that up, because I was pretty sure all pubbie girls were lesbians, but I guess it's just Cheney's daughter. Sigh. I love people. Really I do.

This is the day I test my host's definition of unlimited bandwidth.

The blogathon has its first participant! To boot, she's a fellow Portlander, and we share a birthday! I think it's good karma.

More thoughts on the 24-hour blogathon. If I do it again, it's gonna mean something. The tentative plan: bloggers and sponsors sign up. You can sponsor whatever participant you like. Each participant chooses a charity. The sponsor pays a certain amount per hour, and at the end of the 'thon, they give that amount to the participant's charity. More or less like a regular marathon, but it's on the honor system, as having participants collect funds is a bit too complicated. Expect a page, a button, and copious promotion soon.

If I did this again on the last weekend of July, who would do it with me? If one other person will commit to blogging for 24 hours, I'll do it. In fact, I believe this year there will be prizes. Haven't decided what yet--just thought of it. But prizes there will be. If someone commits. The more the merrier.

Never live with a sibling

Finally, perspective in hand, I began thinking that it would be nice to see my sister. I had an old email address that wasn't quite right, so it didn't quite work. Nothing else. But we're both downtowners, so I knew I'd run into her eventually.

Tonight as I was returning home from getting a couple DVDs, I saw her on the train--she boarded three stops from where I had to get off. It was long enough to say hello and exchange email addys. Oh, and rag on our brother.

I don't know if we'll ever be as close as we once were. We truly wounded one another horribly. I don't know if we'll ever be able to look back on the "bad years" and laugh. Probably not. But a friendly word and an email address is a good start.

Hey! Portland Webheads!

I was playing the last hole of an extremely addictive little golf game and I was pulling back near the top of the screen for maximum strength, when I accidentally hit one of my shortcuts instead. Ouch. Link via MeFi.

Got another one: Dominique Dunne was Griffin Dunne's sister.

"Ya'll mind hangin' back? You're jammin' my frequencies."

The inaugural DVD on my new setup is Poltergeist. Yeah, yeah, I know I'm always saying my favorite movie is The Pillow Book, and it is the favorite of my head. Poltergeist is the favorite of my heart. I've worn out two VHS tapes, and the DVD was the first one I bought for myself.

Ostensibly directed by Tobe Hooper, rumor has it that writer/producer Steven Spielberg was the real man in charge. Anyone familiar with the work of both directors can see there's much more Speilberg than Hooper in evidence. The suburban setting, the lighting effects, the "people looking at stuff" shots--all Steverino. Though admittedly, I doubt Speilberg would have pulled a face off quite like was done in this movie. Oh wait--he DID pull that face off. Literally--those are his hands pulling at the mug of hapless Marty. Want some more great Poltergeist trivia? Here it is, swiped directly from IMDB

• Movie on the TV in an early bedroom scene is Guy Named Joe, A (1943), a film about a pilot who returns to the world as a ghost. It was later remade by Steven Spielberg into Always (1989).
• Mrs. Freeling's line "Mmmm... smell that mimosa" is taken directly from Uninvited, The (1944).
• The sign at the Holiday Inn reads, "Welcome Dr. Fantasy and Friends." Dr. Fantasy is a nickname for producer Frank Marshall (I).
• 'ORourke, Heather, who played the little girl Carol-Anne, and Dominique Dunne, who played the teenage daughter, are buried in the same cemetery: Westwood Memorial Park in Los Angeles. Dunne was strangled into brain-death by her boyfriend in 1982, the year of the film's release. Six years later, O'Rourke died of intestinal stenosis.

Disheveled man on the sidewalk holding a hand-written cardboard sign: NEED BEER

A wonderful bit of inspiration from Jim's daughter. I admit I'm envious of that kind of passion for things physical.

I changed my mind on the i-keem and had some jellidybeems instead.

I find I've been talking to myself in an increasingly bizarre secret language. Making myself a sandwich has devolved from "sandwich" to "sammich" to the current "sandermich." I'm sure by the time I'm 40 it will be something like "sundermeewoowooh." Despite my legendary dislike of children, I have the unfortunate habit of picking up their language as shared by their parents and grandparents. When my friend Linda told me her grandaughter called horses "shoshies," it stuck. This has disturbing consequences when I'm in a group. Seeing a 36-year-old woman point and exclaim: "Oooh! SHOSHIES!!" must be scarring.

I'll have to cut this short. It's lunch time. I have to finish my sandermich and mick, and afterwards I'm going to have some i-keem.

• Me: So if Paul wrote training manuals for mechanics, would you get a Piston Epistle by an Apostle?
• Chris: "Apostle"bly
• Me: You're not certain? Great, you just piston my theory.

After saying something snarky in the truck last night, I giggled and said: "Oh, was I being cynical again?" Kelly replied: "Yes Kitty, you need to be less cynical. Stop breathing." Hee.

A big THANK YOU to my dear friends Kelly and John for hauling my ass all over town last night to get that tv. Love ya!

Correction! You don't have to be a MeFi member to join the Projects List--you only have to be a member to submit an announcement. In that case--I highly recommend the list to everyone! It's just one email, once a week, with some of the coolest new stuff on the web.

Kitty has a new, bigger tv. Size does matter. The DVD works, and I just went hogwild at Netflix. Yeeeeehaw!

For those who've asked, here's how you get on the MeFi projects list. You do have to be a Metafilter member to join.

Forgot to mention something this morning. I wake up to a clock-radio, and of course the first thing I heard was reportage on the McVeigh execution. I hit snooze as soon as they began to give details. I don't flinch from my convictions, but I do object to making the details of an execution into a media circus. Just tell us it happened--there's no need to make it into a goddamned legend.

The more exposure I get, the more I hate the media.

Via the MeFi Projects list: 300 Miles High. Orbital photographs chosen for their beauty. A stunning and inspiring collection. I'm off to look for new wallpaper.

Random thoughts for this morning:

• Chewed a hole in my cheek for the first time in a few years. Nightmares, yech.
  
• As promised, saw Evolution yesterday. I'd write a full review but what do you say about a movie like that? It was cute, it was fun. Yay.
  
• This sweater is too flippin' hot, but the Exploding Dog t-shirt beneath is inappropriate for work. Fine. I'll close my door.
  

Whoah! I found two local guys! I had no idea Jack had moved to Portland. Then I found out a band I like is at the meowmeow tomorrow. But I'm off to buy a tv. Well, I don't like them that much. I really suck at keeping up with local shows, but Jack is on top of it. Maybe if I add him to my reading list, I'll get my ass out more.

Poor Kelly is always reminding me who Hugo Weaving is. "You know, The Matrix." Suddenly the light goes on, and I can relate to whatever he's telling me about whatever other movie Hugo has graced.

I'll never forget him again.

The Interview is the tense story of a man rousted violently by the police, taken to an imposing interrogation room downtown, and grilled for crimes that become clear only over time. Is it a story of persecution or justice? Your mind will change many times watching Weaving's brilliant performance as Fleming, the accused.

Interview is Craig Monahan's first outing as a director, and that is the movie's primary flaw. Atmosphere is lent by location, and tension comes only through the performance of the lead. The newbie director doesn't have mastery of the camera and it shows. Shots are unimaginative at best.

Performances from the rest of the cast are unremarkable. Tony Martin musters suitable intensity, but his character lacks some required depth. Aaron Jeffrey is saddled with the violent-lunk-that-says-fuck role, which probably should have been re-written completely.

But don't let that put you off. Hugo Weaving is an absolute joy to watch, and this film has put him squarely on my short list of top actors. Good writing and one amazing performance later, I recommend giving The Interview a rent.

I live here.

See the red lines? Those are train tracks. See the gray line going over them? That's a pedestrian bridge leading to the apartments where I live. I'm just off the bridge, up and to the left.

This very cool MapQuest feature via Geegaw, via Josh

In Crush:

In Core Dump: My Breastages

In Film: The Interview

The Reading List

Personal sites tend to organize themselves into neighborhoods of association. I love it when, for whatever reason, I stumble upon a new neighborhood and get to wander from link to link. Last week the Greenshoes project went live, and was announced on the MeFi Projects List (which I can't find a link to right now, sorry), so people that don't normally poke around here got to see what I do. Some of them liked it. Finding them in my referrer logs, I got to do some poking around of my own, and I found some wonderful stuff. It began with:

• 
  
  Caustic Sense
  
  
  
  Ray is light and enjoyable, and he finds some kick-ass sites. And I'm not just saying that because he likes me. In addition to the other sites I found through Ray this week, he's one of the arbiters of...
  
• 
  Soul of the Web
  
  
  A collection of some of the best personal websites, stuffed randomly into a cool little popup list you can put on your page. Thats the Soul button you see to the right. There's quite a bit of cobwebbing unfortunately--a little more maintenance would be nice. Overall, very nifty. Also found wandering Ray's links...
  
• 
  Everlasting Blort
  
  
  This is a contender for a perma-link. Every day I find something here I want to share, to the point where I'm starting to feel guilty for linking them so much. Blort has a knack for finding the funny and irreverant.
  
• 
  Following Eden
  
  
  I'd give you a quote, but one paragraph of this amazing woman doesn't do her justice. She draws you in with a sentence won't let go until you've felt what she feels. Go. Now. Read.
  
• 
  Jimformation
  
  
  A great place to learn important things. No, I'm serious. Check this entry. See? I wasn't kidding.
  

Definitely going to see a movie tomorrow. Early afternoon. Either Swordfish ("The movie is crap, all right, but it's canny and atmospheric and highly burnished crap."--Entertainment Weekly) or Evolution ("Too many lame-o humans and not enough freaky mutant creatures."--IFilm) I know I'm going to see both movies eventually, because the latter looks fun, and the former features a shirtless Hugh Jackman. Wanna come with? You know the drill.

Things with Cats, Part II

Okay, this is more a thing with cat supplies. I use a "crystal" litter--it's made of silica. Works great. Last time I bought a bag at my favorite pet store, the blonde lady at the counter asked how I liked it and said she had tested it. I'm thinking she took some home for her cats. Nope.

"I put one on my tongue and sure enough, it sucked up all the moisture."

Cat litter. In her mouth.

I know, I know, it's clean and all...but the idea of putting cat litter in your mouth...I can't get over it.

Litter. Mouth. Ew.

Okay, I just saw Blair Witch 2. Will someone please explain what exactly was so horrible about it? Sure, it wasn't exactly top-knotch, but at least it wasn't the same old hackneyed storyline. I fully expected them to get trapped someplace and killed off one by one--you know, the usual. That didn't happen. Good.

Sort of on the same subject...when I was in Maryland many moons ago, I took some pics of a creepy old building that my companion said was an abandoned nunnery. Very cool place. Unfortunately, the pics were at a distance and don't show much. It was nice to get a closer look--it was Jeff's home in Blair 2.

I think it's going to be one of those Fridays. I realized a few minutes ago that it had been far too long since I shot the person that works across the hall. So I shot her. With my Star Trek TNG phaser. I used to use the TOS phaser, but it's not working so well these days.

GodIamsuchanerd.

Shit, I shouldn't have put that post so close to the "secretly in love with Andre" post. Heh, sorry guy. Nothing personal. No, really, I swear.

My hips and thighs are sore on the outside, like my legs were pushed apart at an unnatural angle. Oh, how I wish I had a better reason for this than squat-lifting 19" monitors.

There are days when I'm secretely in love with Andre. This is why.

And yes, I'm experimenting with header colors. Eventually I'll find one I like. You know what else I like? Color names. I never got the hang of hex colors. Besides, just when I found one I liked--you guessed it--it wouldn't work in Netscape. So if you can't beat 'em, join 'em.

Things with Cats, Part I

Turn the vaccuum on, but leave it unplugged. Wait by the outlet. When the cat approaches with curiosity to examine the vaccuum, plug it in. I had a roommate who thought this was funny as hell. I thought it was funny as hell when my cat chewed through all the cords to her Christmas lights.

We have a tape for Tracy. Thank ya, thank ya verah much.

I screwed up. I meant to send (via Paul) Tracy the Star Trek finale, but I sent her the X-Files finale. I don't have Star Trek. Snif. For both of us. Anybody out there have a copy of the final Voyager ep?

Via Blort (again): The Jesus Test.

What's in my pocketsess?

I'm pretty nerdly. I always wear jeans because they have pockets. Certain things go in each pocket:

• Right-front: keys
  
• Left-front: watch, carmex, and any miscellaneous I run into during the course of the day
  
• Right-back: wallet
  
• Left-back: pad and pen
  

What's in your pocketsess?

My head felt rather more diminuitive than usual this morning. I noticed it as I was washing my hair, just before I slathered on the creme rinse (and the blue facial scrub--I was a little groggy and distracted this morning). I'd say I shrunk, but wouldn't my hands shrink too? Maybe just my head shrunk. Or maybe my hands are getting bigger. Did you know your ears and nose never stop growing? The latter really takes off if you lie. But I'm not lying--my head really did feel smaller. I predict an interesting day.

I'd like to say the day got better. It proceeded apace. The monitor problem took me another 30 minutes. The pizza I ordered in (because I didn't have time for lunch) never arrived. Starved when I got home, I ordered Chinese delivered. It was missing white rice (yes, that happens to be essential).

I'm trying to remember the things that went right today.

Oh yeah, I got a mix from Stuart in Australia that includes some David Bridie I don't have and a great intro to Mike Oldfield--someone I should have checked out a while ago. Very nice. I sent a sappy email to a friend. Gotta do that once in a while--let people know you love them. In fact, let's reverse this nasty-day karma. Are you reading this? Of course you are. Stop right now and tell someone you love them. Email, snail-mail, phone, f2f. Tell 'em right now. Oh, it should actually be someone you love. Or maybe not. That could be fun too.

Love, love, love.

I think I read on one of those tacky tip boards at Yahoo that when you're having a bad day, the trick is to make it worse. Do every pissy thing you've been putting off--the day is already shot to shit, you may as well pack it all in. I think today is the day I make all my medical & dental appointments and pay my taxes. If I had pills to give the cats, that would be perfect.



All I wanted to do was get her favorites copied over from her old computer. I noticed the display on her flat-panel monitor was pretty bad, so I made some adjustments. I carefully adjusted the hertz, because these things can go bad. HA! It went bad anyway. A black screen, and it wouldn't recover. Another monitor later, still no sunshine. So I have to pull the box and hook it up to the testing station so I can adjust the hertz back to where it will work with the flat-panel, then take it back to her office. Another five-minute job becomes a 30-minute (so far) ordeal. Jeeze.



It's a good day to change my phone service, and if I had a boyfriend, I'd break up with him.



Addendum: let's top this off with the fact that I FORGOT ABOUT SAFE MODE. I'm gonna kill myself now.

Piano Graphique

You didn't want to work today, did you?

Link via MeFi

Technical Virgin. The smart choice for your future. Thanks Everlasting Blort.

The Greenshoes Mix has been on repeat all day. I wanted to give it several listens to see if I really like it. There's one song that isn't really...me. But that's okay, I'm gonna let it stand.

What, no plethora of updates today? Sorry, I'm sleepy and I'm busy. Not a good combination. I keep doing stuff, saying shit, and going back to correct whatever I just screwed up. You know, it takes twice as long to do something wrong.

The Greenshoes Project


As anyone who reads this site knows, I love discovering new music. I think I've found a way to do it wholesale--and share my music as well. I hope you'll participate.

Moulin Rouge

Reading list:

• The Book of Rob
  
  
  
  "I love the song because I watch the Chubbin sleep and I can't imagine what goes on inside her little head. It is as much of a mystery to me as what she thinks about when she is awake, seeing things for the first time and trying to figure them out. (We recently discovered dandelions, which blow her mind.)"
  
  
• interrobang
  
  
  "We talked about the value of academic research -- it satisfies curiosity and helps you keep your job -- as well as its overvaluation by victims of EDS/JFS. Researching the organization and dissemination of information is not brain surgery.2 No one's going to die if you make a mistake, but at the same time, no one's life is going to be appreciably, visibly improved."
  
  
• 
  Moxie
  
  
  
  "Good god! A conspiracy by fat women? How dare they not accept the 30% casualty rate to take our drug to try and look skeletal in a bikini."
  
  
• 
  Unsupported
  
  
  
  "But, school went on, I have a but load of homework that I continue to refuse to do until the very last minute. Which should make for an interesting weekend. My car is shaking like an alcoholic that's been sober only two hours. God knows what's wrong there. urgh, I just need a day off. Yeah if I can sleep in late just once I think everything will right itself again."
  
  
• 
  Tangled
  
  
  
  "There is a three-bladed, yellow stryofoam boomerang in the tree outside my window. It's perched, precariously, in the branches some thirty or forty feet off the ground over the neighbor's side yard. They've got kids, and I wonder if they've forgotten about the day it became lodged up there. Were they upset, or was it just another event in a long afternoon of throwing and catching, running and chasing?"
  
  

I was looking for an ep guide for Twin Peaks to see if I had everything. Still haven't found a good one, but along the way I did find this. Note the site is dehanced for Lynx. The TP site bears a 1997date, and I'm betting it hasn't been updated since then. At least I hope not. This is like horse and buggy drivers getting upset over the advent of the car. I do remember a time in the dark ages when I had a crappy computer and I tried to get Lynx to run. Can't remember why it wouldn't. Are there any Lynx users left out there?

Tracy did an incredibly nice thing by sending me Myst III. If only Ubisoft were as nice. Many, many people are having trouble running this game. I had problems too, and I'm not exactly ignorant. I figured out that I had to wait for the next patch, and I did. Several days beyond when it was promised. When it finally came, I installed it only to get a different error entirely. Disappointed but still confident, I wrote Ubisoft's support address with all the facts, my system specs, and everything I'd done. Apparently they didn't read it, because they recommended I do something that I said I'd done. Typical of an automated system. Note to companies: AUTOMATED CUSTOMER SUPPORT NEVER, NEVER, NEVER WORKS. At the bottom of the note is their little out: "If we do not hear from you within 48 hours we will assume your problem has been resolved." Well, they heard from me. Their reply?

"Your reply did not process correctly. Please REPLY to this message
and enter the text between the specified lines. Your message has
been included below."

Putting up those pics made me miss my nosering. It came out about a year ago, and I've been waiting for the scar tissue to reduce enough to do it again. It's time. Tonight. Don't tell my boss.

Turn Buried Bodies Into Organic Soil

Or: How to Composte Your Enemies.