Hello my loves. I'm going to take a short break. I don't think I've ever been this burned out. I don't want to make one more update, read one more email, look at one more website. I'll be back in a few days.

It was an evening that built to a crescendo.

Last night was my big celebration for completing the Blogathon. It began with a bad movie. Jurassic III is a nasty piece of plotless tripe that should never have been made. Poor Sam Neill, he's far too dignified to grace this sort of crap. The company, on the other hand, was delightful. There were six of us, Janie, Kelly, Mary, John, and John's cute brother Craig.

Janie recommended Alessandro's for dinner, where we had excellent Italian and an attentive waiter. I haven't gone out with that many people in a while. It was nice to have a table large enough to support two conversations. We talked about wild parties (white trash, sister fights, Kelly setting things on fire), music, work. Craig scored major points with Janie and me for knowing who the Finn brothers are. It's a pity only Janie and I went on to the show, because everyone else missed...

...the best fucking show I've ever seen. Afrocelt Sound System were not only perfect in musicianship, they were exhuberant showmen able to whip a packed house into a joyful frenzy. The venue was the Crystal Ballroom--a huge, gorgeous room painted with murals and floored with a floating dance surface that makes a hell of a lot of noise when a few thousand people stomp on it. And stomp we did. I left after two hours of high-energy music with hands swollen from clapping, feet swollen from pistoning up and down, and absolutely nothing else swollen because of sheer water loss. There were low points. There were a couple of icky chicks there that didn't quite understand how to behave around children, of which there were plenty. One of them threw an empty water bottle toward the corner and instead hit Janie squarely in the head. Okay, she came over and apologized, but jeeze. Don't throw shit! Still, that couldn't diminish how amazing that show was for me. I just slept for 10 hours and can barely walk. Glad I don't have to go to work today.

The 2001 Blogathon is now over.

I'd like to thank every participant who stayed the course, and every sponsor who donated. I'd also like to thank those that contributed their time, creativity, and server space. You have all made this event something to behold.

I still have a few dozen sponsors to enter, and will do so after I've had some sleep. Final totals up tomorrow.

Here's the last Paul pic for the day:

In an interview for Strictly:

While I'm far too groggy to enter the most recent sponsorships right now, I did skim them to find that we are very close to doubling our $10,000 goal. So I'd like to take this last opportunity to ask you to sponsor. The event, and the chance to pledge, will end at noon. So blow us all away. Every bit counts. Sponsor.

I finally got a chance to go listen to Peter. I can't tell you how grateful I am that he doesn't have a crappy alternaboy voice. Even exhausted, his guitar work is nice. His voice, like some of my favorite voices, takes about two songs to get used to. Give him a listen.

Around 1993:

Props to Ryan for suggesting DJ Shadow's Endtroducing. I love that disk!

Paul in his favorite Sydney pub:

I may play some more music later, but I've got the television on right now to stay awake. Amazingly, I got so many soundtrack suggestions this year that I didn't have room for all of them. I'll make sure everyone gets props in a later post.

At the moment I'm struggling to get at least SOME of the sponsors entered. Update soon.

Paul as Tom McGregor in Back of Beyond

Here's a classic jacket shot from Strictly

Oops...one more harbor shot:

Here's a trade ad from Back of Beyond

Last one at the Harbor.

Nanette and I are giving a listen to Badly Drawn Boy's The Hour of Bewilderbeast.

Number 3

Another from the Sydney Harbor set.

Paul at Sydney Harbor around the time of Strictly.

This was actually posted at 4am, but Blogger tanked for a sec:

Wow, do I ever love this pic.

Paul shows off his brewing prowess.

Here's another pic from the same time, with Andrea.

The music begins again (we watched three movies). David Bowie's Earthling by request of Bottled Voices.

Here's Paul outside his rented LA home during the filming of Exit to Eden.

This is, of course, a publicity shot from Strictly Ballroom.

Here's a better one from around 1993. Yes, it's all Paul pics from here on out. Live with it.

Well, I was going to stick with Paul pics...but I find I must take this opportunity to post Peter's ass:

And now, ladles and germs, I present to you the worst picture of Paul Mercurio known to exist:

Thank you for coming.

Just checked the stats on the Blogathon site. A bit over 2,000 hits for the day. Not bad. Not bad at all.

Too bad my entries are so lame. I should have prewritten a ton of stuff (I think I did about three entries). I'd be more entertaining then...but I just cannot write when I'm distracted.

And believe me, I'm distracted.

At least my cat hasn't barfed tonight.

Welcome to the halfway point! Last year I was pretty perky at 12 hours, and this time I am as well. Ready to go another 12!

Two chat rooms going like mad. Tons of hits for everyone. A very nice mention on Blogger. It's been a helluva day so far. I just wish the mail server hadn't died--that's a real problem. ah well...on we go.

Uh oh. I forgot one unfortunate thing about Woop Woop. I'm gonna be saying "fuck me dead" for months.

Okay, this is lame, but I'm going to have some ice cream and watch some Woop Woop now. Can't think of anything more creative to say. Okay, maybe this: I LOVE YOU ALL BUT PLEASE DON'T IM ME UNLESS YOU WANT INTO CHAT OR HAVE A SERIOUS QUESTION. k? Thanks.

In fact...I think we're gonna watch Woop Woop now.

Another favorite of mine is Back of Beyond. This was supposed to be Paul's star vehicle, but it never quite hit. A stark ghost story filmed around Alice Springs, it has some cliched plot points that are placed in such a surreal setting that they rise above the cliche. Though I have to admit, I hate Paul's hair in this one.

Must...write...must...write.

One of my favorite Paul movies isn't really a Paul movie at all. He only has a cameo as a gay blonde mute hairdresser named Midget. It's called Welcome to Woop Woop. A Stephan Elliot film, it is universally loathed in Australia because of the way it portrays them. Nobody got that it's a caricature. A shame, because it's hilarious and weird. The opening in New York is taken right over the top, but done perfectly. I'd be more descriptive, but er, I'm kinda distracted. I'll try again later. But rent it if you're in an odd mood.

Anna and I are watching Stuart Little. Very surreal. Love the cat. The use of color is a lot of fun.

Great. The flippin mailserver died. Grumble. I'm off to update stuff.

One third done. Amazing. I'm feeling nothing, but it's not all that late here. Got a veggie pizza, and life is good.

Now, about my cat. I have a bulemic cat. She eats more than she can handle then barfs up most of it on my light-grey carpeting. I love her to death--she's a sweet, sweet cat--but this is driving me nuts. So now I'm trying to either give her too little food at one time to barf (which is difficult because there are two cats), or I distract her nicely when she's had enough. I'll just call her over to be petted or something. We'll see if it works. In the meantime, if anyone has any suggestions, let me know. And yes, I've tried changing food.

Liz at Albuquerque Stories wants me to play "Morning Theft" from Jeff Buckley's Sketches for My Sweetheart the Drunk. I think I'll just play that whole first disk. I still have slots to fill, so check the list and let me know what you want me to listen to.

Anna's here! I haven't spent any quality time with Anna in MONTHS, and that sucks. She's like a younger version of me. Okay, that's not true...she's like a younger version of what I always wanted to be.

There is something especially lovely and peaceful about a cat stretched belly-up in a sunbeam. At least there is right before I get down on the floor and rub her furry tummy.

I hope no one is in here expecting brilliance. There probably will be some later, but not right now. I think I'm a little numb, actually. It's strange to see the whole event just rolling along. I know things will happen--we'll have stories to tell later. I'm wondering what they'll be and when they'll occur. I'm guessing the neighborhood of 3am would be a good time, and that they'll involve alcohol. I won't drink of course, but I'll laugh at those who do.

Why did Tigger look in the toilet?

Because he wanted to see Pooh.

The delightful Sarah over at Abbagirl has requested Peter Gabriel's Secret World Live.

I want a nickel, dammit.

I've never been good at saving money. I'm getting a little better at keeping things in the bank, but right now the most reliable thing for me to do is...hoard change. Yep, you heard right, I'm a roller. I used to roll pennies with my mom when I was a kid, so the act of getting the coins together is oddly soothing. There's something very substantial about building a collection of rolled coins. Also, it works. I've made a couple of purchases with my hoarded savings. The one thing that can be irritating is when you're one coin short of a roll. I get so peeved. I'll look all over the house for that one last shiny metal disk. This time it didn't work, and I'm faced with $1.95 in nickels. Damn.

There were 78 episodes. Plus the unsold pilot.

And now, for my friend Kelly (whom I know is watching!), it's time to play Peter Gabriel's So.

Lots of bloggers have extra sites devoted to something they're devoted to. Buffy, X-Files, Survivor, many popular and prosperous things. So why is my pet project Paul Mercurio Online? Do I have a massive crush? Do I think he's the world's finest entertainer? Am I just delusional? Yes, I am aware of the obscurity of my subject. No, I don't have a crush (though I did begin it thinking he was mighty hunky), I have what I consider normal faith in his talent. I may be delusional. There are two facts to know: why I began and why I stay. The first is that datahounds abhor a vacuum. I was just looking for a nice pic for my Crush section, and I found almost nothing out there. Also, as I dug I found the bits and pieces that were there intriguing. The guy has had an interesting career. I couldn't stand that there was no comprehensive page for it. So why do I stay? Let's put it this way: if I made a comprehensive fan site devoted to, say, Jason Kottke, he'd likely ignore it, and me along with it. And Jason's never been in a major motion picture. At least not that I know of. On the other hand, it took Paul about 24 hours to contact me after PMO went up. We've continued to be in contact, and he's a very, very nice man. He's also very real--he wouldn't know pretention if it bit him in the ass. That's why I stay.

You know what? The 'thon has prevented me from updating PMO for quite a while, and I'm feeling withdrawals. I may just talk about my favorite Aussie a few times during this run.

Fat Bottomed Girls just came on. Yes, as a matter of fact I do love that song.

Tahnie over at everything after has got me thinking about A Knight's Tale. She requested I play Queen's Greatest Hits. First track: We Will Rock You. And we will, ya know.

You know, I actually worry about writing mean things. It's Google's fault. They have me ranked to the point that if someone does an ego search, and they aren't incredibly popular, what I say may well turn up. Rupert: I still love Stigmata. K?

AHAHAHAHAAAA! I HAVE CABLE!

Cable guy was just here. It was a little embarrassing because I expected to have time to clean house some time in the last few weeks. I haven't. Ah well, who cares. He was skanky anyway, so the mess probably put him at ease.

Paul tells me it's time to play Afro Celt Sound System. It's on.

As I did last year, I'd like you to choose my soundtrack. Take a look at my music collection, then tell me what to play. When I'm playing it, you'll get a mention--so send me linkies if ya got 'em.

My least favorite director's commentary so far has been Rupert Wainwright (not to be confused with Rufus) on Stigmata. In fact, it almost ruined the movie. You know what I hear when someone says "we had to re-write that scene a hundred times" ? I hear: hack. I can understand a little re-writing. Things on the page often don't translate to the screen. But to waste production time because you couldn't get your head out of your ass long enough to think things through beforehand? That's just rude.

I've become addicted to director's commentaries. You know, that special feature on the DVD where you watch the movie with the sound muted, and the director talks over the whole thing. If it's a film I enjoy, the commentary is a must. The best one so far: Stephan Elliot talking over Eye of the Beholder. That commentary is an education, and a fascinating one. He's rarely talking about what's going on in the film--rather he's covering his philosophy on sound, direction, and the miracle of making a rather slick-looking film on a relatively low budget. Go Stephan.

When I was seven or eight, I read a book on jokes and how to present them. It was all aimed straight at my age group and I loved it. In one dialogue the comic begins: "Good evening ladles and germs!" Ladles and germs? I giggled for days. Ladles and germs! I used the line over and over. I didn't understand why it drew only an indulgent smile rather than the belly laugh it clearly deserved.

My point, and I do have one:

Welcome, ladles and germs, to the 2001 Blogathon!

This will be the last post until tomorrow at noon, when the Blogathon starts! Yeah, I'm excited. The ring works, the pages are as good as they're gonna get (the participants list still shows a couple of drops), and I'm finished stressing. It is now the Zen of Blogging. I hope all of you will enjoy it with me--at least for a couple hours. I also hope you'll sponsor me or one of the other wonderful participants if you haven't already.

Jason just came up with the perfect term for me under pressure: Kittywigged.

I got a search result that made my day: Think outside the cat box.

Kidman signs contract for von Trier movie

Ooh! Kidman is on my short list of favorite actors. Probably somewhere in the top five. She picks interesting, challenging stuff and always pulls it off beautifully. And now she'll be working with another one of my fave directors. He'll wring her out--but she'll shine. I can't wait.

This is how I'm feeling this days. Mew.

Jeesuz. As of current count, I've received SirCam 12 times. Often multiple times from one person. I can tell by how one came in that the sender had opened the infected attachment at least twice. Come on. You know, I don't mind when people take themselves out with stupidity. But why, oh why, does the rampant incompetence of some of the populace have to bleed over to the rest of us? SSSssssiigh.

What's better: a great concert or great sex?

Where are the Sunday Goodies, dammit!

They're on a little hiatus while I finish up the Blogathon. They'll be back after next weekend. They may even be back next weekend, since I'll be at the computer an awful lot anyway.

I thought I'd start painting with the toughest part I could think of. The area behind my refrigerator is officially GREEN. It's a fantastic color. As soon as this sudden and inexplicable toothache goes away, I think I'll tackle some more.

My cats rush to the kitchen and beg any time I use the can opener. I find this baffling because their wet food comes in a pop-top. In any case, the can-opener thing leads to conversations like this:

Cat: Meow!

Me: You won't like this.

Cat: Meow!

Me: It's creamed corn.

Cat: Meow!

Me: No! Go away!

I was tempted just to give them some.

Well, I did it. Last night I called my friend Kelly, and this morning before the crowds hit we went grocery shopping. Curse you, Webvan. Actually, it wasn't that bad. Of course I did it my way. I entered my last Webvan list plus some other things into a database, then tagged and sorted them by category. Now, I'll stuff the prices in there too. Then I'll have a form where I can see everything I usually buy, check it off, and produce a categorized list with an estimated total.

If I must shop, I'm going to be a geek about it.

Also, I bought paint for the kitchen. Finally. Pictures soon!

I am here. I'm not sick or absent or grumpy. Just really really busy.

Heh, I'm already using one of your photos for wallpaper. And I agree about the Blogger templates. I thought the designer was going to get more credit than a meta tag. That kinda sucks.

It made this place look better. I'm very sad. On the other hand, I may be switching to a yellow-to-chartreuse gradient for a background. Thanks Paul for the tip.

I was going to write something mushy and sincere, but I feared a restraining order.

Then I thought I'd write something rhyming and witty, but I feared incompetence.

Therefore, in accordance with the KISS principle (which, as we all know, involves white, black, and silver makeup), I shall simply say:

I just went over my impromptu coverage of the Webby Awards. Couple of comments. First, next time I need more screen caps. Gotta be faster on the draw. Second, Derek Powazek is hot.

Oh, my fave five-word speech: "Ellen Burstyn loves the web." What was yours?

One last post-credits production number and it's over. I give it a B. If they're going to do numbers, they need to be better. Technically, the webcast was great and I had not a single problem. Alan Cumming was charming. Mayor Willie made a tasteless Condit joke. Most of the people I was rooting for didn't win, but I'm not bitter. Okay, maybe I am a little. But I'll be back next year.

Christina for Doug: "There's more yet to come." Whoever it was for Tomlinson: "Thanks for the broken slinky."

The winners: Ray Tomlinson:

Vint Cerf introduces the LIfetime Achievement Awards saying: "Internet endures, resistance is futile."

Weird: Peter Pan's Home Page. "Weird? God loves us all."

Webby Awards 2001: "Aren't you glad you have a mute button?"

Um, I don't care about Sports, but Swell won. "Sam Donaldson, dude, gnarly toupee." Assholes.

Zine: Plastic. "Bankrupcty never felt so good." And missing the screen caps is starting to piss me off.

Music: Sputnik7. Oh this is good. He opens one fortune cookie...too many words. Opens another one: "The secret to true happiness is..."

Hee. Webbies are running over. Imagine that.

Let me be clear: there's a reason the dance pieces suck. Every time I've ever seen a choreographer try to interpret technology, they do something with glowing wires and full bodysuits and try to be all cold and electronic. Which says to me: "I don't have a clue about the organic nature of the web." Kill all hacks.

Humor: The Onion. "To advertise, call Phil Meyer." Thought I had a pic but it didn't copy. Snif.

Film (now this one I care about): Requiem for a Dream! Yes! "Ellen Burstyn loves the web."

Fashion: Hint Fashion Magazine. Can you tell I no longer care about looking up URLs? I'm busy making snarky comments. Oh, his speech sucked.

Okay, some of these little films before the awards are hilarious (though some are equally awful). They're doing a series of "absolute truth in business" skits that are quite good. Hope they're available somewhere later.

We're in Entertainment now. Broadband: Heavy. "I've got on clean socks."

Please make the dancers go away. They suck.

Best Practices (overall excellence): Google. "Google gives great...search results."

Arts: Young-Hae Chang Heavy Industries. "The struggle continues."

I really fucking hate the tele-actor.

Alan needs to learn to turn off his mic while someone else is on.

Technical Achievement: Microsoft Windows Update. Yawn. Not a bad speech tho: "I update, therefore I am." Sounds like a blogger.

Volunteer Match takes another one for Services. Boring five words. Sorry, didn't get a screencap of Pud giving them the award.

"Fuck the corporate media!" Was what the Webby-thief in the gasmask said when he "stole" Inside's news award. They let the real guy say: "Accidentally left ass-pants in NYC"

Some awards I just don't care about. Those are the ones where Alan has to tell the audience: "Keep clapping 'til he gets up here!"

Travelocity takes the Commerce webby: "Thanks, now please go away." I was rooting for Cafe Press, of course.

Yeesh. I'd rather have longer speeches than "entertainment numbers." Sure, little production numbers have their value, but I'd rather see the people who make the web talking about it.

Oh good. Musical number. I can look up some links...

Oh, and along the way, we got a hilarious "Behind the Website" send up of John Styn, then he announced the Personal Category:

"I just like to dance." Dancing Paul gets the Personal category.

"Heya, Mom? I love you." Craigslist takes the Community Award.

Bush volunteers. It's that easy. Volunteer Match takes the Activism Award.

Alan tells bad Webvan jokes:

Tiffany gives a great opening speech:

Here's the fantabulous Derek!

I'm gonna try to post some screen caps...Here's Brad from Livejournal:

Ev was just on! Go Blogger!

If you're looking for something to do, get your ass over to the Webby webcast. So far it's too damned much fun.

Picked up this new blog in my referrer logs. I always get a kick out of people's test messages. Of course this Jackie person is probably going to kill me.

Looking for a new tool? b2 is something I'm going to be trying soon. I'm a little swamped at the moment, but I'm all excited at the prospect of moving things over. I just [heart] Michele.

I got 58.064% I love this kind of game, but I only do well on the first round. After that I lose concentration.

I have this fantasy that a couple years from now I'm in Sydney for a couple weeks, and at the same time Trubie is off visiting Rachie in NZ, and they fly over for a day or so and we spend a ton of time wandering about the city ogling boys and giggling. Is that so weird? Sigh. Probably.

It's just that what Rachie said about online friends rings so true for me. There is a group of women who formed a little coffee-klatch a few years ago, and we've been very close. Every year we talk about meeting in Las Vegas. Maybe this time we'll do it. They're precious to me. There are a lot of people in my real life that have come to me first online. My life is so much richer because of them, and because of the people I may never get to meet, but love anyway. If anything ever happened to one of my electric friends, I'd be devastated.

Hmm. New goal: meet at least one far-away webfriend a year. Who will it be this year?

Oh wow! Jerwin got one too! I didn't recognize his style in the design--he really did a stretch for the contest. Mena snagged another award as well. Of course if Mena didn't win, we'd suspect the game was rigged.

Congratulations Andrew!! I've always loved your design, and now others can love it too. Of course now everyone will think you're using a template.

I hate asthma. Not just because it sometimes makes my life difficult, but because it's really hard to spell. Who the hell decided to put a TH in the middle of that word? That's like the chompers in the bowels of the Protector. They serve no useful purpose.

In the ethics section of our employee handbook is a long bit on the appearance of impropriety. As in: even if it's innocent, if it looks bad, don't do it. This is because it's very important to maintain the public trust. Mostly it only applies to officers, not to geeks like me--still I've always had a strong sense of ethics, and appearing unethical bothers me. That's why, when I'm sick on a Monday or a Friday, I drag it in for a few hours anyway--so it doesn't look like I'm taking a sickie.

Well, screw that. I feel like a bus hit me. I'm going back to bed until eight, at which time I will make my remorseful call. Bleah. Sometimes it isn't worth keeping up appearances.

Hmm...Kitty hasn't been very verbose lately. I'm working on the Blogathon and listening to Greenshoes disks. I've received three in as many days, and I'm pretty flippin' excited about it. Thank you Lila, Clay, and Josh! (And hey, Clay, if you're reading this send me a note, k?) So far they're all fantastic disks. Which of course is what I expect from frytopia readers. Ahem.

I will get the page updated soon.

As I was walking home about a year ago, a little girl was riding her bike in the middle of the street. She still had the training wheels on as she wobbled and struggled to peddle. It reminded me of when I was little and how badly I wanted a bicycle but couldn't get one. My parents wouldn't let me have a bike until I was 12; my mom was too afraid I'd hurt myself. I'd pass the bike section in the store and just look, having given up asking my parents about it long ago. I eventually did get one after much pleading and begging. Amazingly, getting my driver's license at 16 and the subsequent borrowing of the family car passed without incident.

Need a Trubie fix? The Trubalicious One is having domain problems, so for a few days you can find her at http://66.40.102.155. I'll be fixing my short list link tonight. I'm so glad she sent out an email. I was starting to get DTs.

I'm such a beggar. One of my co-workers had been putting me off a bit about sponsoring, but I was pretty sure it wasn't because he didn't want to. He truly is a busy officer. So today before I went home, I tapped on his door, went in and said "I just want to know how many times I have to park in your office before you sponsor me!" Haha. Ch-CHING!

Yes, I am pushy when I believe in something.

YES! The first Greenshoes mix has arrived. I just popped it in, and wow is it ever good. From Lila at Radio Rock Stars, most of the stuff on the playlist (which I won't reveal, of course) is unfamiliar to me. Which is the idea. I'm excited. And I'm tapping my foot. I'm a teensy bit busy right now, but I'll add it to the page this weekend.

Had my first vegetarian piss-off yesterday. I was out with Kel and had a nasty craving for a veggie-burger. Any kind would do. Thinking to score some good onion rings as well, we landed at Burgerville. All the burger chains around here have Gardenburger. The store was nasty and dirty, and the employees were just...odd. We should have known better. I perused the menu to assure my choices were there, but when I ordered, I got "we're out of Gardenburgers". I didn't even blink. I just said, "Well, we're screwed then," and left. Mean? Sorry, I don't take kindly to a store "running out" of the only viable veggie option. Especially when the place is icky. I think I left more because I hate bad service than because they didn't have the Gardenburger. After all, I could still have had the rings. Applebees has a better veggie burger anyway. I did feel a bit guilty dragging Kelly to another restaurant. I hope it doesn't happen often.

As more people I actually know in real life come online, I confess it is mighty strange to read them. I look at their words and try to match them to the person. I realize that what I see online is completely different from the living human in my life. Which makes me wonder. What are my webfriends really like? I've met a few people after chatting with them online--but chatting is substantially different. I've been able to make some accurate judgements that way. What about people I don't talk to, but whose blogs I read? It dawns on me that I can have no idea what they're truly like. Which begs another question. I wonder what people think I'm like?

Trubie's got a new look! I like the checkered thang.

I've decided to spend a few more dollars on the blogathon and sponsor some friends. Do you have a friend on the list? Maybe you see a favorite charity? Okay, last question: Are they worth five dollars to you?

Kelly just gave me a great David Duchovny quote:

"The only movie where nudity is essential would be one called Before There Were Clothes."

Zefrank is one of the funniest men on the web. Hype? Judge for yourself.

Sometimes, you just need a friend. Yes, I have lots of other wonderful webfriends that I chatter with all the time. But today, he's the one that bailed me out. All it takes is a little "Paul, life is suckage," and he gallops to the rescue. And he's not sappy or cheerleader-y about it (like I sometimes am). He finds actual reasons why I should snap the hell out of it because I'm okay. And then I am okay. Thanks, man.

Yeah, I said I'd link him ten times for cheering me up. I also offered to heap him with praise for his design skills and switch to a Mac, but I've done the first before, and I can't afford the last. So was that ten?

According to the test I have a high risk for Narcissism and Avoidant disorders. While I certainly love attention, some of the things they described under narcissism (like using other people for my own gain) just aren't me. If you love me, I'll love you back. The Avoidant disorder nailed me though. How pathetic is this:

"Avoidant personality disorder is characterized by extreme social anxiety. People with this disorder often feel inadequate, avoid social situations, and seek out jobs with little contact with others. They are fearful of being rejected and worry about embarassing themselves in front of others. They exaggerate the potential difficulties of new situations to rationalize avoiding them. Often, they will create fantasy worlds to substitute for the real one. Unlike schizoid personality disorder, avoidant people yearn for social relations yet feel they are unable to obtain them. They are frequently depressed and have low self-confidence."

Thanks Trubie Dooby-Doo for the link.

A keyboard with hints? That's a great idea. You should post it here and see what happens.

Nanotechnology in a Nutshell. Why is this interesting? Besides the fact that it's interesting? Because I wrote it, of course! This is actually a reprint, but the zine that published it a few years ago was very low readership. Very. Low. Probably just me and the editor. Stay tuned for part two. And yes, you'd better give me happy karma points (see the bottom of the article).

National Portrait Gallery. Part of the Smithsonian, much of the gallery is closed for renovation, but there is still plenty to look at. Take a tour through the Hall of Presidents, and don't miss A Durable Memento, Portraits by Augustus Washington--African-American Dageurreotypist in Past Exhibits.

Good quote:

"If you're going through hell, keep going."



--Winston Churchill

I'm screwed. I admit it, I had become totally dependent upon Webvan. I'm quite, quite upset. I got great service from them, with nary an error. Plus, I had a nice delivery guy that liked my cats. There doesn't appear to be an alternative in the Portland area yet, so I'm a bit at a loss. I'm not interested in shopping. Buying only what you can carry on your back gets old fast. So does wandering through massive aisles trying to find crap when you know exactly what you want. So does waiting in interminable lines. So does putting up with all the dolts in the store. Crap, crap, crap. Kitty is not happy.

Yes, it took me this long to watch Life is Beautiful, Roberto Benigni's Oscar-winning masterpiece.

It took a bit to warm up to this film. More at home in 1938 than 1998, I had to relax into classic-film mode, yet because of the subject matter I expected to be betrayed with scene of violence--something to shock my senses. Benigni does not betray his audience. He is true to an earlier time.

On the surface, it is the story of a man who uses humor to win the heart of a woman, then shield his son from the horrors of a concentration camp. We know the stories of the holocaust, so while Roberto touches on those themes quite seriously, they are not the center of the film. That belongs to Guido and his family--the deep affection that he protects at all costs and never takes for granted.

On another level entirely, it plays as a lovely homage to one of my favorites: Danny Kaye. Benigni is Kaye on about half a valium. There are echoes of The Inspector General throughout the film, and it is made in the style of that era. Stagey sets speak to wartime films made when the war was current news. The harsh theme is handled with an overall gentleness spiked with satire--something at which Kaye was expert. Perhaps I'm reading something into the film that isn't there; nonetheless, it enriched my view of it.

I recommend Life, but remember that this is not a film of the 90s. It is not even a 90s film pretending to be a 30s film. It is a 30s film. Watch it, then go rent some Danny Kaye.

• In Core Dump: Things with Cats
  Part of a continuing series.

• 
  In Crush:
  
  

• 
  In Film: Life Is Beautiful

• 
  In Paul: New page of pics in the Exit to Eden archive.

STANDARD DISCLAIMER (lie): "I DO NOT OBSESS ABOUT MY STATS"

For some reason unknown to me, I've never bothered to run any of the wonderful stat reports provided by my utterly fantastic web host. I've always been happy with Sitemeter. It's one click to what I want. I'm lazy. Well, I've learned my lesson. The Sitemeter stats are a little low. By about 400 flippin' percent. I kept wondering why people reported spikes in their hit rates when I linked them.

Even though I now realize there are a hell of a lot more of you than I originally thought, I want you to know that I still love each and every one of you. Individually. Kiss-kiss!

I've done some major re-arranging around here. Hosting two domains on one is kind of a pain, but I didn't want to pay the big bucks to set up blogathon.org. No, it doesn't work yet, so don't try. If you find anything is broken, please tell me.

...for every person you forward this email to, Bill Gates will team up with AOL and send a nickel to NASA."

On Repeat:

Chumbawamba: WYSIWYG

Nnnoooo!!! Listen, the photos may not be perfect, but they are gorgeous nonetheless. You can always put up better versions when you get your slide scanner. C'mon. Yeah, I'm whining.

Attention movie buffs: here goes the rest of your day. Motion Picture and Television Photo Archive.

On Repeat:

Midnight Oil: Earth and Sun and Moon

Bummer is, it wasn't Howard Morrison at all. I have got to learn to check the disk when I buy used. Turned out to be piano solos by someone I'd never heard of. They were quite boring. I really wish it had been the disk I said it was.

Don't kill the popup on this one. You'll miss the Secret Slur from the Drunk of the Month. Just one of many hilarious features at hungover.net. If you are hung over, beware--the site is pea-soup green. Lovely, but it always makes me feel worse when I'm sick. via Tim.

I've had a terrible EM craving for a couple weeks now. Last night I finally indulged it. I love rifling through their skuf bins because it gives me a chance to not only fill in gaps on the cheap, but try things I've never heard of. There are too flippin' many to give you links and pretty pictures, but $85 later, here's the list:

• BT: Ima
  
• Missy Elliot: Supa Dupa Fly
  
  Wanted this one for a while. Love the song "Rain".
  
• The Smiths: Strangeways, Here We Come
  
  This has "Girlfriend in a Coma" on it, which is part of a mix tape a friend made a long time ago. I've been trying to duplicate it as the tape is wearing out.
  
• Bangles: Different Light
  
• Chumbawamba: WYSIWIG
  
  If "Tubthumper" is all you know of these guys...well...you'd be surprised. Great, loud, political band.
  
• Ben Folds Five: Naked Baby Photos
  
• DJ Avan: Bico Solto XIII
  
  I have no idea who this is. The CD was cheap and looked intriguing.
  
• Peter Gabriel: Peter Gabriel
  
• Midnight Oil: Earth and Sun and Moon
  
• Alpha: Pepper
  
• Kenny Loggins: Celebrate Me Home
  
  Loggins' first solo effort, and still his best album.
  
• New Order: Substance
  
• Howard Morrison: Songs of New Zealand
  
  Again, cheap and intriguing.
  
• Fleetwood Mac: Greatest Hits
  

Said I'd get over it, din't I?

Got back a while ago from a nice time with my friend Scott. He and I have to be careful because we tend to piss off one another. It's been a 15-year struggle to understand this man who is unimpressed by all the things that impress me, and cynical about all the things in which I find hope. He is, nonetheless, a very interesting, talented, and good man, so the effort is worth it.

We went to see A.I.

• 
  Snarky Quip #1: "The movie had a beautifully poignant, perfect ending. Too bad they didn't stop there."
  
• 
  Snarky Quip #2: "The good news is that Speilberg truly sublimated his own style to pay homage to Stanley Kubrick. The bad news is that I've never liked Kubrick."
  

Pity Party

Wendie at work has an apt name for wallowing in the depths of self-despair: The Pity Party.

I'm having a rousing good one at the moment, and you're all invited.

I find myself becoming increasingly isolated, and I don't like it one bit. There are a lot of reasons for it. Friends are drifting away. I understand that, as I've sometimes been the one to drift myself. Right now it feels like they're all drifting at once--though I realize that's just a matter of perception.

I think most people lean on their family at times like this. I'm sure I used to. Nowadays my family is either dead or estranged; homogenizing my year into one long drone devoid of the punctuation of tradition. Egad. Cue violins.

As I get older and create the person I've always wanted to be, I find that person is a tad unusual. It becomes difficult to relate to the general populace. Small talk is maddening, politics are dangerous. So instead of getting out and meeting new people only to face the disappointment of unrelatability, I stay the hell home. Not good.

Humans weren't meant to live like this. We're tribal, social creatures. We're meant to rub elbows, talk trash, make love. We're not made to sit in a tiny apartment and type through the hot summer days. I'd get out, but the sea of strange faces outside my door only reminds me that I know none of them. I run back home.

That said, I know I'll snap out of this. Probably in about ten minutes. I do that.

Thanks for coming. Don't worry about the mess, I'll get it in the morning.

Comics fan? The DVD for Unbreakable has an extra disk that includes the feature "Comics and Superheroes", an interview with Will Eisner, Denny O'Neil, Frank Miller, Dave Gibbons, Trina Robbins, Scott McCloud, Michael Chabon, and Alex Ross. I just finished watching it--what fun to watch everyone else pick on Frank.

I think I'm waiting for the whole vegetarian thing to hurt. Will it? I'm picking up some wonderful food at my fave Chinese restaurant on the way home, wondering when I'm going to feel deprived. Hrm.

How to drive your cat insane.

"The locals are afraid of the Palm. I think they're fearful it'll steal their souls."

Andrew treks to Atlin for mosquitos, hiking, baseball, daydreaming. This space is occupied.

On Repeat:

Milla: The Divine Comedy

(I just grabbed a bunch of M disks today. I have her, two Midnight Oils, and a Medaeval Baebes)

The 'thon got its first press today. I know one must become jaded after a while, but right now I am floating. Back when I kept up on international affairs in print, I read World Press Review, which used El Mundo as a source. It was pretty exciting to see my name in a familiar paper.

I'm glad you like it. I found it to be a watered-down, pale imitation of their live show. Actually very disappointing--obviously it was a matter of contrasts. Your enthusiasm makes me want to listen again. And if you get the chance to see them in the flesh, do not miss it. There's the most incredible jam in the middle of Bleed.

On Repeat:

Greenshoes


(yes, because I forgot to bring anything in)

Excuse me? Listen, I'm sorry you're having problems with a stalker. That is truly nasty--but I'll thank you not to make judgements about me and my friends. Your current situation has simply removed your humor on the subject, so I'll let it pass. I take stalking very seriously, and if this was even in that neighborhood, it would never have been posted.

It takes a special film to transcend truly bad subtitles. I've seen this particular translator before. How many could there be who interpret "sun" as "macho fire"? "The macho fire is strong," says our fading heroine, a ghost named Fleur.

Played with delicacy by one of China's biggest stars, Anita Mui, Fleur was a courtesan in the Hong Kong of the 1930s, where she fell in love with Master Number 12 (Leslie Cheung--always a favorite). She died to be with him forever, but he didn't appear at her side in Hell. She returns in bewilderment to the world of the living 50 years later to find him.

Here she recruits a newspaper clerk and his girlfriend to aid her. Frightened, yet drawn in by the romance of her tragic story, they apply themselves to the task.

Rouge won a Best Picture for producer Jackie Chan in the Hong Kong Film Awards, in addition to Best Actress for Mui, and Best Director for Stanley Kwan. The film is just that good. You find yourself drawn in to the passion and personalities of the courtesan and her lover--but from the outside their motivations are unclear until the heart-wrenching finale. Beautifully acted, the only flaw in the picture is that it is cut much like a kung-fu film: quickly and abruptly. This doesn't suit the langorous and mysterious story.

If you can wade through the macho fire, I highly recommend renting the haunting story of Rouge.

Part 1: Nicknames

Cats aren't very bright. There is no shame in admitting this quietly to yourself; however, when friends arrive cat owners must devise a number of clever ways of disguising the fact that they live with a lint-brained sack of fur. One of these methods involves nicknames. It's vital to call your cat by a different name every time you address her. The longer the better. "Snoojee woojee boogumsis", "sweet fluffity muffity", and "kitty witty sooper mooper furfity girl" are all good examples of long names that will confuse your cat. Not that it matters. Cats do not come when called. They do not understand that they have been given a name for this purpose. When called, they may stare at the sound of your voice, but little else is likely. Therefore it's important that you use alternate names in front of your friends to construct an excuse. Of course Kitty doesn't come when I call her. I've been a bad trainer. I never use her name.

Part 2: Discipline at a Distance

You, the cat owner, are comfortably entrenched in your favorite position on the couch. She, the cat, is getting up on the counter like a Bad, Bad Kitty. Ther