It isn't that I don't recommend finding love wherever you possibly can. But trust me, local is better.

I just said goodbye to Bill for the third time. We're sucking his savings dry to be together, but to us it is infinitely worth it. You would think the goodbyes get easier with time. This is not so. The original plan was to spend 18 months going back and forth from Portland to Brisbane. I have no idea how we thought we could survive that, as we're barely making it to Christmas.

The next trip is Las Vegas, where we get hitched. Then, goodbye. The next trip I get to meet his parents. Then, goodbye. The next trip he's over here for the holidays. Then, no more goodbyes.

I know it will fly by. I know that in retrospect, it won't seem like such a hard thing. Right now it seems impossible.

...and came back for more.

Last year after the Blogathon concluded, I shut down my site for a month. It was a good thing, but very, very hard. I wasn't sure I ever wanted to see a computer again.

This year: totally different experience. Thanks to the fantastic people who helped me, I was able to avoid burnout and have a good time. I don't think my blog has ever been more fun than it was last night.

Zowie. Thank you all.

Goodnight. It's been fun. See you again soon.

Discovered near Baghdad in 1938, a small, unassuming jar turned out to be an ancient battery. About 2,200 years old, the mechanism consists of a copper sheet held in place by an asphalt plug, with a narrow iron rod hanging down the center. Fill the jar halfway with vinegar or another acidic liquid and you get 1.5 volts. It is speculated that the battery may have been used for electroplating or served some sort of medical purpose.

Found in caves in the BayanKara-Ula mountains between China and Tibet, the Dropa Stones present a pretty unbelievable story. First, they were discovered in caves where unusual bodies were found buried. They had small bodies and large, over-developed heads. The stones (disks, really) were found near the bodies, and are allegedly 12,000 years old. In 1962, Dr. Tsum Um Nui claimed to have interpreted the heiroglyphics. They described the crash-landing of a spaceship, and the stranding of its crew. They go on to tell the tale of a clash and eventual peace with a local tribe called the Hams. The area is now occupied by two tribes of people: the Ham and the Dropa. Diminuitive, they have an average height of 4'2", and unusually large heads.

Say you found a limonite (an iron ore) ball, very neatly round, with three grooves around the center. It looks like it would be used in some sort of sporting match. It's about 2.8 billion years old. Such are the grooved spheres that have been turning up in Africa. Apparently made by an intelligence, but before any intelligence existed on the planet.

The spheres are of two types--"one of solid bluish metal with white flecks, and another which is a hollow ball filled with a white spongy center" (Jimison 1982). Roelf Marx, curator of the museum of Klerksdorp, South Africa, where some of the spheres are housed, said: "The spheres are a complete mystery. They look man-made, yet at the time in Earth's history when they came to rest in this rock no intelligent life existed. They're nothing like I have ever seen before" (Jimison 1982).

In 1795, Daniel McGinnis discovered an odd depression in the ground on Oak Island. He and his brother began digging, and found what looked like a careful burial area. Layers of flagstone, oak, and more oak made it clear someone had buried something there.

"In 1803 the boys returned to the island with Simeon Lynds, a wealthy business man from the mainland who had secured enough capital from investors to launch a full scale excavation of the pit. The syndicate dug past 30 feet and found more oak platforms, one at every ten feet. Some of the platforms were sealed with putty and coconut fiber. Traces of charcoal were also present. At 90 feet they found a large flat stone with a message engraved upon it, apparently in a cipher. Years later it was translated to mean 'Forty feet below two million pounds are buried.'"

It turns out the pit was a trap--intentionally set to flood with water below 90 feet. To this day, despite many efforts and tantalizing clues, the treasure remains elusive.

Electronic Voice Phenomena is one of the rarer of the "supernatural" sciences--in that it is the study of something concrete. EVP are mysterious voice recordings. The source of the voice on the tape is unknown, and some believe they are the voices of deceased loved ones. This field is particularly fun, because there's plenty to listen to, and it's readily available.

"Many people use EVP/ITC to reach and communicate with loved ones that have passed into the next plane of existence and there are many interesting and wonderful stories that are shared. One member received an EVP message from her dead husband, but she did not believe it. He told her to take her camera, turn on the TV and take a picture. She did and could make out that it was indeed her husband."

Beware the Pine Barrens of New Jersey. Legend has it the Jersey Devil was Mrs. Leeds' thirteenth son, cursed to the devil on the way out. The Devil has terrorized Jersey for more than 200 years. In fact, in 1909, the creature was spotted every day for a week.

"The Lowden family awoke to find tracks from whatever had circled their house the night before. The snow had been packed down around the garbage can, with its contents half eaten and strewn across the ground. Burlington began to enter a state of panic, locking doors and windows, refusing to leave their homes, and staying in shock over night. Practically every backyard in Burlington had been scarred with footprints. The prints were unbelievable- skipping from rooftops to rooftops, randomly vanishing, leading into completely unaccessible areas... the size of the prints varied in each trail as well. Search posses formed, rewards were offered."

Is Stull Cemetery a gateway to Hell? Well, I doubt it. Despite its creepy appearance, most of the rumors about Stull appear to be just that. Still, stories persist that Satan comes to Stull twice a year to visit the grave of his son. As of this year, the creepy, roofless church has been demolished, so we'll never know for sure if rain would truly not fall within it.

Now a tourist attraction, the gothic Mansfield Reformatory opened in 1896 and housed prisoners for about one hundred years. It is said this set of The Shawshank Redemption is heavily haunted.

"The administration wing of the prison was a home and office to Warden Glattke and his wife Helen. Both of them died in this section of the prison. Helen Glattke's death was controversial. Helen accidentally knocked a loaded .32 automatic pistol off a high closet shelf while attempting to remove a jewelry box from the shelf. The gun went off when it hit the floor and the bullet struck Helen killing her instantly.

A decade later, Warden Glattke died of a heart attack in his office. It is believed that both the ghosts of Warden Glattke and his wife Helen haunt the Reformatory. At certain times, visitors can feel cold rushes of air move over their bodies. Strange anomalies are regularly recorded in the administration wing. Photographic orbs and equipment failure are common. The now infamous pink bathroom is also in the administration section. Visitors to the pink bathroom reportedly smell fresh flowers and perfume scents."

And this is just one story among many. Public ghost hunts and tours delight the public, and result in some remarkable photographs. For sheer creepiness, it is hard to beat. Being haunted is a bonus.

Discovered mostly in a cave in the Andes, the Ica Stones are a collection of over small, carved, andesite rocks. They are like an ancient library depicting a wide range of subject matter...including sophisticated surgical techniques and depictions of dinosaurs. While some of these are the typical "ornate thing could be a spaceship", many of them are quite clear indeed. If the stones are a hoax, they are one that took remarkable effort. The foremost authority on the Stones, Dr. Javier Cabrera, has 11,000 of the Stones in his possession. 15,000 are said to exist. Considering the relative difficulty of carving andesite, a hoax seems unlikely, though certainly still possible. If they are not a hoax, they stand with the Antikythera Device to challenge our notions of ancient science.

It's late, you're hanging out with friends, when one of them has a bright idea. They drive you out to a country road and park at the base of a shallow hill. Outside the car is a spooky church cemetery and a spooky church to go with it. Your friend puts the car in neutral, jumps out to knock on the door of the church, and the car begins to roll backwards, up the hill! Known as Gravity Hills, these anomalies are startling, but not inexplicable. A careful survey reveals that the gentle slope is in fact not going uphill, but down. To the naked eye, however, it truly appears as if you are rolling uphill. Sounds like a great date.

Considering it's in my own home state, one would think I'd have visited the Oregon Vortex. I may make the trip. Reports seem to be a mix of skepticism and reluctant belief, as I suspect the Vortex itself is a mix of hucksterism and genuine phenomena. At the Vortex, tennis balls roll uphill, perspective is skewed, and people find themselves standing at nauseating angles--when they think they are standing straight. Engineer John Litster performed thousands of experiments on the site over three decades. He corresponded with Einstein. Neither mind was able to fathom the cause of gravity's odd behavior in the Vortex. When Litster died, he left instructions for his wife to burn all of his notes. Rumor has it he felt mankind was not ready to know the secret of the Vortex.

In Australia, beware of unexplained lights that lead you into the desert. The lights appear around the town of Boulia, often following travellers as they walk. The lights are similar in appearance to a car headlight, but change shape, color, and location, sometimes in apparent reaction to people. The Min Min Lights first appeared near the ruins of the old Min Min Hotel. Soon after it burned to the ground in 1918, the lights followed a stockman on his way to Boulia.

Crystal Skulls range in material from clear quartz to amethyst, and let's face it, they just look cool. Considered items of power, they are credited with healing and increasing psychic powers. Ancient full-size skulls are rare, and some mystery shrouds their origin. Because carbon-14 dating cannot be used, it is impossible to tell if they are truly ancient artifacts carved with skill ahead of their time, or merely modern hoaxes.

The Italian Papal States were acquired by the Church in 756 CE on the basis of a grant from Emporor Constantine. There's only one problem: the document was a forgery. Unquestioned for centuries, Lorenzo Valla examined the documents in 1440 and found a few small problems: First, there was no recording of this gift; second, it referred Byzantia as a province--at the time it was only a city; and third, it referred to a non-existent Judea.

Pompeii has always had its fascination--an entire culture preserved for all time by disaster. Within its ruins is one particular temple-like structure whose secrets remain hidden. Villa of the Mysteries has a name more secretive than its contents. In this context, "mystery" is meant to mean "rite". This temple was apparently used to perform the rites of passage for women becoming brides. Brilliant frescoes adorn the walls. Though their meaning is unclear, attempts at interpretation have been made. I suspect the illustrations have little to do with what actually went on--imagine having a whole temple for your wedding shower. Woo! Par-tay!

Old goatherds swear how all night long they hear
The warning whirr and burring of the bird
Who wakes with darkness and till dawn works hard
Vampiring dry of milk each great goat udder.
Moon full, moon dark, the chary dairy farmer
Dreams that his fattest cattle dwindle, fevered
By claw-cuts of the Goatsucker, alias Devil-bird,
Its eye, flashlit, a chip of ruby fire.

So fables say the Goatsucker moves, masked from men's sight
In an ebony air, on wings of witch cloth,
Well-named, ill-famed a knavish fly-by-night,
Yet it never milked any goat, nor dealt cow death
And shadows only--cave-mouth bristle beset--
Cockchafers and the wan, green luna moth.

--Sylvia Plath

The fearsome Chupacabra (goat sucker) has been terrorizing the Carribean since the 70s, acheiving dubious fame in the 90s when reports were picked up by major news sources. Never photographed, this terrifying creature is said to feed off the blood of livestock, sometimes removing internal organs. The government says it's dogs or panthers. The ufologists claim aliens or some genetic experiment. Whatever it is, it has killed thousands of animals in a bizarre manner.

This, and many of the following photos, were taken today on the grounds surrounding my apartment.

In 1900, a sponge diver found the wreck of an ancient ship off the coast of Antikythera. A stunning archaeological find, the ship dated from about 72 BCE. Among it's hoards of treasures lay something astonishing: an analog computer. Constructed of dozens of intricately placed gears, the Antikythera mechanism was intended to show the movement of celestial bodies over time. While sophisticated mathematically, this was the only evidence ever uncovered that the ancient Greeks were also mechanically skilled. The device was studied in depth by Derek J. de Solla Price who published his findings in the June 1959 Scientific American: "Among the treasures of the Greek National Archaeological Museum in Athens are the remains of the most complex scientific object that has been preserved from antiquity. Corroded and crumbling from 2,000 years under the sea, its dials, gear wheels and inscribed plates present the historian with a tantalizing problem. Because of them we may have to revise many of our estimates of Greek science."

The decorative grass in the courtyard.

In 1513, Turkish admiral Piri Reis gathered his collection of ancient maps and proceeded to distill them into one map of the world. Half of the map was found in the Palace of Topkapu in 1929. It contained a number of astonishing features:

• Correct longitudes 200 years before they could be accurately measured.
• A clear outline of the northern coast of Antarctica, 300 years before it was discovered.
• Details of the surface of Antarctica beneath the ice, which could only be recently determined with modern equipment.

The map is heavily annotated with details of the lands it depicts. None of Reis's source maps have ever been recovered, but it is rumored that some of them were refugees of the Library of Alexandria.

Cold Spring Harbor, May 2002
(yes, I'm cheating a little. Bill is outside shooting.)

Do you hear something? Since about 1991, a lot of people have. Dubbed The Taos Hum, the sound is a low-frequency vibrating, much like a diesel engine. Its origin is unknown, and it's very difficult to measure. Appearing only in certain areas, the Hum has been mapped, recorded, studied, and speculated upon ad infinitum. Sufferers have been tested for tinnitus, but their ears are found to be in good working order. Do you hear the Hum?

Prisolm the fetishist.

Nemrut Dag (or Nemrud Dagi), the tomb of King Antiochos Epiphanes, is located in Southeast Turkey. It consists of a 2150 meter-high pile of fist-sized pebbles, surrounded by statuary bearing Greek and Persian styles. The site is home to both the world's largest horoscope, and the largest existing statue of Zeus. Though clear inscriptions of the burial instructions are present, no one has yet been able to determine exactly where in the tumulus the Commagene King is buried.

The nerve center of Blogathon 2002!

Concluding our surreal architecture tour, we come to Watts Towers. Built over the course of 33 years, the Towers contain no bolts or welds. The lone builder, Simon Rodia, would anchor a single shaft of metal, then weave around it. Finally he would hand-cover the tower with cement and inlay bits of glass and tile. The Towers have recently been restored to their former glory. After he completed his monument, Rodia moved to California and refused ever to return to Watts.

Pris, being a sleepy clown.

The Palais Ideal is another monument to the perserverence and creativity of one man, though less mysterious. Built by Ferdinand Cheval, a postman, the Palais blueprint was drawn in his dreams 15 years before he began construction. Every day on his route, Cheval would watch for stones he wanted to use. He would leave them in small piles along the road, then after work he would re-trace his route with a wheel-barrow, bringing home his material. When he ran out of stones, he switched to cement. The Palais Ideal is riddled beautifully with the styles of many cultures, and is one of the existing examples of surreal architecture.

KC, the sunshine cat.

"One man's monument to love", is an artwork of coral pieces--some weighing up to 28 tons--created by a single, diminuitive human. How he quarried, moved, and placed the coral is unknown. A natural telescope is perfectly aligned, a doorway of many tons is perfectly balanced, and the entire castle is full of mathematical clues. He worked exclusively at night, and never disturbed the neighbors. It is said that Edward Leedskalnin built the castle for his "sweet sixteen". It's assumed by most that he's referring to a sweetheart. Some think he may be talking about something entirely different. Did the eccentric Leedskalnin have the secret to antigravity?

This is Prisolm, posing for her favorite man, Bill.

The "Most Mysterious Manuscript in the World" was created some time between the 15th and 17th centuries. So far, no one has been able to completely decipher it's cryptic language. The book weighs in at 235 pages, filled with text in the body and margins, along with botanical illustrations, astrological diagrams, and whimsical nudes.

The Manuscript is named for Wilfrid Voynich, who discovered it in a Jesuit college in 1912. Though most of the Manuscript's history is unknown, it was once owned by Rudolf II, who fancied the off-beat. He sent it to one of the day's most well-known scholars, Athanasius Kircher, but Kircher returned the manuscript, unable to unlock its secrets. Modern codebreakers have failed and/or gone mad trying to plumb its depths.

Is it a hoax? If so, it is one of history's most ingenious.

Bill and I are not big on personal adornment. The only jewelry I wore prior to my engagement is permanent--earrings and a nose ring that require tools to remove. Bill wore none at all. We're just not big on ostentation. Nonetheless, because of the deep symbolic importance, we decided we wanted wedding bands. We wanted them heavy (so we would feel married) and plain, made of something tough. We decided on great chunks of platinum, worn on the right hand until we're married, when we'll swap over to the left.

That's the beginning of the explanation for this picture. The rest of it is this: I was feeling very down today. I won't go into details, but lets just say there are a lot of awful people in the world. Bill sent me this to cheer me up. To remind me that there are very, very good things afoot. Look how you can see the sky in his ring.

The future is full of hope and love.

This is a bit of a TMI, but I have to share it.

I have mild sleep apnea. That means I stop breathing when I sleep, just for a second. Most of the time I sleep through it, but often I wake up gasping for air. The result is always a groggy, ugly morning because I haven't slept well.

A few nights ago I decided to try one of those nose strips. You stick them on your nose while you sleep and it helps with breathing. This is helpful when you have allergies, apnea, or snoring problems.

The damned things work.

The last few days (even sporting a throat infection) I have popped awake before my alarm, refreshed and ready to go. No waking up in the middle of the night.

I know these problems are fairly common, and get worse around allergy season. So if you haven't tried one of those funny-looking nose strips (Breathe Right is a common brand), don't be embarrassed. It's worth it.

I've been mulling over what I should do for the Blogathon. I would like to have some fun with it, but I'll also be busy with admin, so it can't be too strenuous.

My original plan was to post one of Bill's photographs every hour, and for the half-hour posts I would do some fascinating news of the weird bit. I've always loved mysteries and wonders, and I thought it would make for an entertaining 24 hours.

On the other hand, I have a film proposal due about that time, so storyboards are also a possibility. If I even use them--it's montage and may not require storyboarding.

Hmm.

I think I like the first idea best. Not very thematic, but who cares. It will be fun.

Also: I hope everyone who visits frytopia and enjoys my rants will sponsor, if only for a small amount. To pitch in, click here. I'm blogging for Book Aid.

I have two keys for my apartment, a regular door key I keep in my right front pocket, and a card key I keep in my wallet.

Every morning as I walk out the building door, I do a quick slap on front and back pockets to make sure I have everything. Each time I do this I chuckle to myself--how silly is it to make sure you have something that you've never forgotten?

Well, here's to paranoid habits. This morning I did the back pocket tap and discovered I was about to be locked out of my building. No wallet. My ring clanked against the door frame as I caught it, saving myself. What a goob I am. But at least I'm a cautious goob.

Monday we "officially" wrapped shooting for Rouge à Lèvres, but my wrap was tonight. I animated the titles--lipstick letters appearing on a mirror. I know, not all that original; but they look cool and my sparkly shower curtain is in the background.

I've been listening to a lot of Edith Piaf tonight.

I hate the volcano dreams.

Last night St. Helens and Hood went at the same time, and the prevailing winds covered Portland in several inches of toxic ash. Roads were unusable, and we were being evacuated on boats through the sludge of the river. Grey, grey everywhere. I was only able to save one cat--the little one--and I kept her under my coat at all times so her air would be filtered. Everyone else wore masks.

I was fifteen when Mount St. Helens erupted. I spent hours watching her from the open field across the street. It was a fantastic, beautiful spectacle. I played it cool, but of course I was as deeply frightened as everyone else. In the end, the whole experience was anti-climactic. We had to wear masks for a while, and be careful not to use the windshield wipers without thoroughly washing the glass first. We bought rainbow-colored ornaments made from the ash (I still have a vase). Despite this, it affects me. I imagine I'll have the volcano dreams for the rest of my life.

Wanted: Six anti-corporation idealists, willing to have a political career for just a few years. Here's the plan:

For the first ten years, you'll have to betray everything you believe in and play up to the big money.

After ten years, if you are not elected to a position of considerable power, you may do whatever you like. If you have used the corporations effectively enough and have been elected to power, use your term (and there will be only one) in office to betray them. Follow your conscience and fight for every cause that cannot fund a campaign. If possible, make a difference. As you'll never be funded again, you can retire at this point.

Insertion of suicide pols will be staggered by a few years, and the next one should be right behind you.

The scene: A woman walks into the bathroom, stares in the mirror, fills the sink, and washes off her makeup. It's all quite dramatic with candles and lighting and splashing and what not.

By 10:15am the cast and crew (all three of us) were assembled in my apartment. We chatted a bit, and Lynn got into wardrobe. I took a look at the camera that had been checked out and discovered it didn't have slomo. Eep!

So back to the Film Center with Marisa, while I ran Lynn through rehearsals.

Back with a great camera--all sorts of wonderful bells and whistles. We set up the scene and try to run a little film through. Click. Click. The camera was jammed, and would only run at 1 or 9 fps. We needed 18. Sigh.

Lynn and Marisa headed back to check out a camera each, just in case. I stayed back and got permission to shoot in the apartment's hallways, and scouted some good locations for interesting shots.

At last back with a good camera (or two) and burritos for lunch, we shot some good stuff. We took turns on the camera as much as possible, getting more than one set of eyes for each shot. Five hours later, we wrapped for the day.

I'm one tired Kitty. At least until Bill gets here in 90 minutes.

The shot: a mirror reflecting a sparkly shower curtain. Titles appear on the mirror bit by bit, written in lipstick. As each "card" is up, it is shown for a second or two, then wiped away.

The technique: shooting the mirror at an angle, and getting fairly close. Not using the macro lense for focus because the frame is too small, but instead going to 7.5mm and lighting the hell out of the room. Setting the intervalometer so I can scribble a small bit and duck out. Scribble, duck. Scribble, duck. Scribble, duck. Scribble, duck.

The setup: lots of cheap lipstick--three different colors, a bowl full of wadded paper towels that are pre-sprayed with cleaner.

The result: sore feet. Really sore feet. I need (a lot) more lipstick, something to sit on while the camera clicks away a few seconds, and masking tape to delineate the frame better. I also need another day or so.

If it works, it will be cool.