i also write poems when california burns
we burn what sustains us & i would link you to fuel but it's not finished
yet
i have this thing with fire
so have i mentioned that the lyricbase's list page & lyric display page (which is like, 99.9% of the site) are now XHTML compliant? no?
i blame dreamweaver mx 2004, for starting me down the slippery slope of validation. sure, sure, the static XHTML validates, but then you upload the page & pop a little dynamic content in it & head over to the wc3 & get smacked in the face with ... with ... hundreds of errors. hundreds.
so i hacked away at the picky picky picky little details, invisible to the nekkid eye, but i obsessed nonetheless. it was time to make it right. sure, the site worked as it was, but it always felt a little like driving a shiny red miata with an old pinto engine duct taped sideways in the trunk, hoping no one got close enough to smell the burnt oil. now, it feels ... like a newish kia, with a genuine kia engine, still under warranty.
or something.
i live about a half mile from the fireworks, so i had to walk all the way from my apartment, past the apartment next door, up to the main street, then halfway down the block to get these pictures:
first the router stopped routing. the documentation for this internet-accessing appliance is kept ... on the internet, of course. the 404 page was a big help, thanks. for weeks i resisted the simple but regressive fix, just plugging the fucking cable modem into the fucking computer, because i know me with temporary fixes, and i didn't want to regress. i only relented because i was in charge of downloading wedding music.
so then there was the wedding.
it was easy to spot the ventura table:
later, there was a flower-throwing incident. fortunately no one was seriously injured in the resulting fracas:
in other news, i'm guessing that unmoderated comments are limited to the pay version of MT three poing fucking oh. i swear i have every box checked that says, just let people comment ferfucksake, but no. pain in the ass. gonna write my own blogware, i am. but first i better start blogging again, otherwise, what's the point?
i shall now resume sitting here poking gingerly at the 460 emails that piled up while i was otherwise occupied &/or avoiding the internet. apologies to those waiting for me to get off my ass, i'm working on it.
so i was gonna sit here on the porch & upgrade my MT but you just know the damn cheapass mofos would interrupt me. hmmph. comin' to my g.r.o.j. (get rid of junk) sale insulting my uglyass old lady dining room table & such with offers so low you could use 'em to scrape the mousey dung of'n the legs. i happen to know it's a very fine piece of uglyass furniture & people pay big money for uglyass shit all the time. i mean fuck. offers so raggedy i could use 'em to chase them black widder spiders out of that 'antique' card table holding up that cool yamaha keyboard, it has a whole orchystraw inside it somewheres and it gots some fancy edjumication module, it'll teach any idiot how to play lit'rally whole buncha cheesy songs for crimeny's sake, same model right now on ebay goin' fer a hunnert fifty bucks, all i'm askin' is seventy five and i'll go fifty it's sunday & all i sold so far is a slow clothes dryer, coupla shelves, some fat pants & a frog tool, it is sunday & i find i have a hankerin' i mean i am settin' here on the porch positively pinin' for some tightwads to come insult me like they did yesterday early, i woudn't be near as fluffy about it today.
taking into consideration the deep dip in my prices as the time has passed, & figuring that at least some & mayhap most of the folks who go garagesale-ing understand the psychology of desperation, i'm figuring the offers will be considerably more insulting, here in the middle of sunday. especially the way my sign's looking, i figure they can smell the desperation at least a couple hundred feet away, if they know what they're smellin' for. and if they do, i assure you that they will be entirely accurate in that olfactory assessment.
i will have to take a picture of my sign. it is quite likely the world's worst-taped piece of public information ever affixed to a power pole, i shit you not.
and since the flow of penny-pinchers has slowed to a trickle that is, well, nonexistent, i may as well run that upgrade.
we rode the four five oh to ellay. well, van nuys. same thing.
my soon-to-be-son-in-law is cooler. uh-huh. & randomly:
i have *so* many pictures. luckily there is a gallery thingy with a cool uploading interface that makes multiple thumbnails & has its own stats package & comment system.
i just had to sit & think hard to type out the code for a hyperlink.
if she's anything like me, she ran the telling through her mind any number of times, like practice, only imaginary. i imagine the five maybe ten minutes of ordinary everyday smalltalk that preceeded the telling was somewhere between nervewracking nailchewing & tingling anticipating. i know she knew the reaction would be good, but i also know what took her all those minutes nattering on about ordinary everyday this & that, before she told me:
"mom, i'm pregnant"
eeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.
eight weeks.
my daughter was born 12/21, nine days after my twenty second birthday. her due date was 12/16, she was late. (there's a name for that now -- it's called 'amanda time' as in, i'll be there in a half an hour, amanda time, which means 'relax kick back read a book it'll be awhile') anyway.
her due date is either 12/12 or 12/16, depending on the chart you use for figuring. and she will turn twenty two on the twenty first.
i bet it's a girl.
i'm sitting on the porch, typing this, because 802.11b wireless? they're giving the shit away. i mean literally. well almost literally, but pretty much, literally.
the internet's getting easier to face each & every day.
this is the first time i've even *seen* the internet in close to two weeks (i think) i lost track.
i'm not even really back yet but ... cable is *way* fast.
ok i have stuff to go do i'm still working up to where i can deal with the email. i haven't even looked yet. hold me i'm scared.
i know there is much catching up. right now it is a little too much.
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