Thursday, October 5, 2000

 

12:04 a.m. Once again, I was all set to write a note to my notify and not put up an entry -- I've been working nonstop, not getting up for hours and hours -- but you know what? After all those hours on someone else's site, it is so nice to come home over here to mine.

I like my little leaves up above. I like my photos. I really like my Sisyphus -- big duh. I'm certainly discouraged from putting animations on the big fancy professional site, but I think they add a certain jeno-say-kwah ... you know I'm not going to get up and stumble over to the dictionary and look it up.

French was not my strongest subject in school. Neither was math. Or gym. Or earth science, for that matter. When you get really over-tired, I can tell you that your mind wanders out of the corral and you might be found many miles away before you were even missed ...

I haven't seen the outside since I started in on this web siege. I thought I'd made really good progress all last night and this morning, and then I found out that the main splash page was spreading out of it's columns and leaking out of certain browsers.

It's been a very long day. I listened to the quote debate unquote, which was more like a genteel conversation, and that was ok, too. I knew nothing about Cheney at all, nothing except he's become very wealthy in oil and his wife has written a lesbian potboiler from way back. I was terribly impressed with him tonight.

See? I can be swayed. He's got a bad snarl -- but it didn't matter because he was the soul of decent explanations and boardroom negotiations. Very comforting. The only thing, of course -- he makes poor Junior seem even more ludicrous than ever. What were they thinking? How does Cheney keep from laughing or crying?

So -- my life is stripped down to the very minimum, the very barest essentials. It does go to show what a high priority and/or a total comfort this page has become for me. The laundry is still in the tub, wet, after two days ... and I'm writing instead. What was I thinking when I thought I should quit about a month ago? This is the very best thing I've ever done -- it's pretty. It's homey. It's mine, all mine.

Let's see. Why are there shoes on the line? Why is there a tree full of ballet slippers on another back street and why do I see such things when the camera is at home? And how might I tie the photo into the text -- well, I've been looking at code all day long, trying to find a few stray errors -- and after a while, the whole world starts looking like the job before you.

Long lines ... things hanging on them ... we're stretching here ... and ... just throwing stuff up in the air ... and ... it's not going to catch, is it?

Today Memoirs of a Geisha came in the mail and if I can keep my eyes open, I'll start it tonight. I'm trying to read nothing but fiction now. Keep that small room in the back of my mind from collapsing in on itself from neglect. It's still intact, but boy oh boy is it dusty in there. Thick dust covers everything undisturbed and curly.

Anyway -- this has been fun and all, but now I've got to get back to the grind. I've got to try to make my $.72 cents for the dollar a manly man would get for what I'm doing. On the other hand, a manly woman might get, maybe, $.88 cents, don't you think? And a girly boy would only make, I'll wager, $.75 cents.

Ah, the injustice. That's why we have to vote for the Democrats. They'll fix everything.