And I Shall Name it Hal....

Indubitably, the thrilling news of the hour is the fact that I am finally getting a new computer. Not that I don't enjoy this lumpy, doddering laptop (fingers crossed--please don't crash!), oh no. I love it. Okay, really, I'm not being entirely sarcastic. Despite the fact that it pokes along at sub-snail speeds and has a coughing fit whenever I try to open multiple applications, it has served its noble purpose (see last post for hint as to what noble purpose could be.).

The keen part of the new computer is that is is a Boy brand computer. In other words, he's actually building it. It's actually WAY cheaper than buying a premade system. You don't have to waste money on things that are non-essential, and you can bulk up the things that make your machine a monster if you want, or plan to leave places for additions that will increase the monster-tude later.

If you could see me right now, you'd know I'm tapping my fingers together under my chin and chuckling in a sinister way.

Brats of the Information Revolution

I'm one. Guilty.

I sometimes get a little consternated as just how much I depend on technology. My first response to the Apolcalyse would most likely be to run and look up some wilderness survival crap online. Until I realized that the internet no longer existed. At which point, I would get hysterical, sit down and cry.

If the internet's down, or the Boy's on my computer for some reason, I get antsy. I'm used to having things pop into my head, and within a half hour, having a basic working knowledge of whatever it was I was curious about, thanks to the information revolution. Case in point: the Boy was fixing/installing/updating something on my computer tonight, and I was huffing and pacing, peering over his shoulder, until I realized that a BOOK I owned probably contained at least a start on what it was I needed to find out about. A BOOK. With paper pages.

While I certainly don't yearn for the days of the card catelogue, I do kind of miss HAVING to go to the library. I still love the library--that certain swishy silence punctuated by the occasional whisper or page turning--magic. Just being surrounded by all those books was somehow a healing experience.

The internet has bred in me the unignorable (?) tendancy to EXPECT to get answers within minutes on whatever it is I'm wondering about. As a result, do I wonder about more things? I think I must, in some ways. I can't imagine the cluttered warehouse my brain would be if I had to actually remember what it was that piqued my interest, wait until I had the time to go to the library, decide which books were most likely to help, and then leaf through thousands of pages that may or may not have what I'm looking for. Chaos! (or as a friend laughingly puts it: "Chouse!") I think I just plain spent much more time Not Knowing in those days---a state of being which I hate.

I think what would bother me the most, were I forced into a dreary dimension where books were the sole means of gathering information, is that I would only be able to draw on the thoughts of people who actually took the time and money to write and have a book published. This was particularly the case tonight, when I was researching a medical condition I was curious about. Besides the official medical info, I wanted opinions from people who had dealt with things, how their doctors responded, and what the best way to prepare for the appointment would be. I adore that this sort of thing that exists in the self-publishing mecca that is the internet.

Look--I have a blog!

Some things best forgotten

I've been reading Michael Ende's The Neverending Story, and unlike many childhood loves that turn out to be ridiculously dumb when read/viewed as an adult, I'm enjoying every minute of it. The book is translated from German, which gives some of the language a slightly strange feel now and again, but this adds beautifully to the feel of the story. As a child, I adored the film, and hadn't realized (in relative terms)just how true much of the dialogue was to the book.

I know it may be treason in some circles to say this, but I've realized as an adult that "The Dark Crystal" was something of a boring movie. I recalled certain scenes with delight after seeing it as a child--the moment when the cute fuzzy creature bursts out of its burrow, with hugely wide open jaws, the death of the "good guy leader" vs. "the bad guy leader" when the good fades away, and the bad just sort of crumbles to dust. I seem to remember something about creatures with very looong skinny legs that ran quickly. That's about it. I had wondered why I'd so throughly fogotten the rest of the film, and it turns out that I had remembered the only parts that were really interesting. The rest of it is a sort of yawn-worthy blur of slow moving, chanting muppets. Sorry, die-hard fans.

One thing I would like to see again is "The Last Unicorn." I have a feeling that though the animation may be a bit dated, it will turn out to be as magical as I remember it being. That's another book I ought to read. I was amused to find that there were several t-shirts available on Amazon. This one rocks. "The Last Unicorn" is a Rankin-Bass production, so that's in its favor. Rankin-Bass also did the animated version of "The Hobbit," which contains my definitve golum voice. The music from Rankin-Bass productions is always memorable.

Enough rambling. I'm going to update my Netflix que.

If Flattery Can Even Have a Sincere Form...

I'm such a coppity cat. Patrice did a little retrospective, and I'll be darned if I'm not going to do the same. In my everyday life there's so little of the "ten years ago" era left, but what's held on has held on well. Other than family, there are 2 people left in my life from then, and I expect them to be part of the story for much longer. One is a British Lit teacher from highschool who's still a dear friend, and the other is now a brother-in-law (also a good friend).

Ten years ago:
I was a freshman in college breathing a sigh of relief at having FINALLY escaped my mother/drill sergeant. My relationship with her has softened a good deal since then, though I sometimes still firmly believe she's nuts. At that point it was all about getting out from under The Thumb of the hyper-spiritual, legalistic BS that was flying around and contributing to the many baggages I'm trying to get rid of today. The college was small, and in the middle of nowhere, but it couldn't have been more heavenly. I had a (small) space that was MINE, with no fear of the gestapo reading my mail or journal, or rifling through my books and music for innocuous things to be shocked at, disapprove of, and destroy. Looking back, I'm sort of amazed that I didn't fly off the deep end and get addicted to crack while selling my body. I'm sort of amazed that none of the children from that family (so far) have done that.

Five years ago:
It was all about music. I had to go poke through a journal to see what was happening. I had musically hooked up with some boys with guitars and drums, and it was a rollicking good time. We were playing shows, recording like gangbusters in the basment, and generally doing a lot of laughing and goofing off. I believe it was also the year we started getting played on the radio around here, which was a completely surreal experience. I think this was sort of the peak of the "eating, sleeping and breathing music era." None of use were attached to anyone romantically, we had all finished college, and the songs practically wrote themselves. I sometimes get a little nostagic for that time. I had a tight-knit circle of friends. We were creative--would take our cameras out and wander around various places shooting photos. We went to lots of shows, we made lots of music, and watched lots of good film etc. I'm kind of sad about Now--not because I don't go to many shows etc., but because I don't really *want* to go to many. I prefer to be quiet at home with a Boy and a book. I wonder if secretly I was always a quiet homebody, and was just waiting for the right boy and a place that I could "own." The circle of friends still keeps in touch occasionally, though I do see some more regularly. Music is still something I adore. It doesn't explode around me like it did though. Maybe it will again someday, bt for now, it's more of a quiet, personal thing.

As good as five years ago was, it would not be right for me now, and I wouldn't trade it for anything. Five years ago, a friend had suggested she introduce me to a friend of her husband's--some Boy she thought I might get along with. Five years ago we met, and I didn't particularly like him. And two years after that, we got married.

Currently: it's a sunny autumn day, and I'm in my dear little house, procrastinating instead of working, with a cat sprawled across the top of the monitor making cranky noises when she stretches. I'm going to go visit my sister and little niece this afternoon. I know the Boy will be home a few hours after that, and we'll grill some tuna steaks and watch an episode or two of Firefly. Then we'll lie in bed and read books until it's time to go to sleep.

"Currently" is good.

Clump of Souls

After frothing at the mouth and raving about the gloriously ridiculous Katamari Damacy, it's pointless to discuss why and how much I like the follow up PS2 game, "We (heart) Katamari." The title says it all. Yes. I heart it. With many hearts.

This incarnation of the bizarre Japanese roll-athon makes no bones about the fact that it's only back because so many people thought the first one was the bee's knees. "What is it they love about me?" the massive King of the Cosmos muses, "Could it be that my head is of such a cool shape? Could it be my tights? Could it be my chin? Yes. Clearly it is my magnificent chin that the fans swoon for." (paraphrased)

There are always going to be some annoying things, to be sure--on a few levels it's really difficult to get the katamari to a point that will satisfy the king and the fan who requested that particular roll-up. It's also still difficult for me to do the rocket roll move without pressing L3 and R3 doing flipping completely around. I have clumsy thumbs. Bad, bad thumbs.

For the most part though, I find myself playing with a big dumb grin on my face, as I did the first one. It's silly, and it's just plain fun.
____________________________________________________

Also qualifying for the "just plain fun" category is the not-so-high seas adventure of Puzzle Pirates. I take a certain wicked glee in the fact the no less than three friends have signed up and been soundly hooked in the past couple weeks. We finally met up (or our little digital avatars did) on a northern island, traded piratey swag, and chatted for a good while. It's nice to just pop on and say hi to a friend far away, and even nicer to collaboratively play a fun puzzle-type game with them.

What I need to be more conscious of is the severe nerd-i-tude emanating from public conversations about playing Puzzle Pirates. Offhand comments like, "Oh--I quit my distilling job and now I work at the apothecary. It's the best way to make POE without pillaging all the time," do little to enlighten any surrounding folk who may not be familiar with the game. In fact, talk about how your crew all up and moved to another island, but you're staying until the iron monger you placed and order with is done your sword... this may only serve to alienate people.

I do my best to be socially acceptable. Sometimes I suck though.

At the Risk of Smashing a Camera...

Three cheers for the brave souls who set long exposure times and fling their cameras up into the air. The results are pretty gorgeous.

-----------------------------

So the week o' wedding is over (for those of us not being married), and I must say that as chaotic and crazy-go-nuts as it could be, the end result was just plain... a good party.

It was outside among some massive trees on a little hill with a gazebo. The weather was gorgeous--breezy and cool, but still sunny. Ann told Ms. Bride, "I don't know what dance you did to get this weather, but whatever it was...it worked." There were some trees with tiny yellow leaves that fluttered down like petals during the processional. Beautiful.

It was also lovely to see and chat with people I hadn't seen...uh, or chatted with in years. It makes me resolve to be more intentional in my friendships. Good friends are dear things--I realize this more and more as I get older.

Hippity Happity Anniversary.

Post vacation reflections:

I may have eaten enough seafood while on vacation to last me the rest of my natural born days.

Sorry. No more driving more than 900 miles one way for vacation. After the tenth hour I get ants in my pants and want to kick out the car windows and leap onto passing semis like someone from a Gorillaz video.

One can never take too many fuzzy, distant pictures of a gator that happened to flop up near the back deck of the condo.

___________________

Now, back to the Gorillaz video - There were no semis in the video for "Feel Good, Inc." but this is the one I was thinking of. It reminds me of scenes from Last Exile. I find it highly entertaining and appropriate that, as a band composed of animated characters, Gorillaz would, in an interview, speak about the making of the video as if it were live action. .

“Apart from the obvious thing, which is my gyrating hips,” he (bassist Murdoc) explained, “The coolest thing about the video would be the hydraulics on this gig. Just for the windmill section alone cost about 3.5 million pounds. That's sterling. We had to buy a small island, make a mould of it and then scrape out all the insides. When that was done we filled the whole thing full of helium. Using the motor from the windmill we managed to get the thing to float, but it was an absolute bugger.”

Snort! Snicker!

Crikey!

We're here on Hilton Head Island, after an interminable drive (albeit through some very gorgeous mountainous landscapes). The condo we're staying in is lovely--a 2 bedroom affair with massive windows and a deck overlooking a bayou that seems to be filled with graceful white herons and, uh...alligators. The Boy and I have been discussing whether we're awful people for watching the ducks and wondering if they're going to be summarily consumed by an alligator from below.

Hilton Head is a weird place in some ways. It's just lovely, filled with beautiful beaches and great restaurants...but every shrub, every oleander, every blade of grass is cultivated and sculptured. We were joking earlier that a pelican couldn't poop here without a landscaper rushing over and rearranging it into something attractive.

So far we've been incredibly lazy, and have eaten a lot of good seafood. Eventually we'll do things like dolphin watching tours and a day cruise to Savannah to poke around look at the fun southern gothic architecture and Civil War era graveyards.

Today at the beach I was slightly startled to see a pod of dolphins lazily cresting just off shore. The Boy managed to get within 20 feet of one. After bobbing around until we were absolutely prune-like, we wandered up the beach, dripping, and got ice cream. The taste of ice cream at the same time as smelling the ocean gave me a flashback to the days when our family would travel to the Jersey shore during the summer back when I was in first grade. The ocean has a wonderful, fresh, salty smell.

There's a dead tree on the other side of the bayou that becomes lacy with huge white herons right before the sun sets. They're all jostling each other and flapping about right now.

Yesterday we went to Savannah to pick up a friend who's joined us, and we all ended up wandering down into the historical district along the waterfront and trundling down the cobblestone streets until we found a place that served killer cajun food. We headed home full of shrimp, cornbread, and beignets. *sigh* So lovely.

Arr, Me Hearrrties!

Avast! I may have used this title for a post already. I occasionally have little fits of pirateism that must be indulged.

Actually, I've had a long and drawn-out fit of pirateism for the last few months, thanks to Puzzle Pirates. It's a little multiplayer online game that offers one heck of a long free demo for download. One's character is a rather lego-looking little pirate who can go island hopping, chat with fellow players, and play addictive puzzle games along the lines of tetris and bejeweled in order to interact with their world in such things as sailing, swordfighting, drinking, bilging, etc. If pirates had little chipper, round faces, were squeaky clean, and would rather challenge you to a puzzle than draw and quarter you, this would be just like sailing the high seas!

I'm a dork because I get into the ridiculous stuff like deciding which island to apply for citizenship on, or saving up for a new, more piratey outfit, or furnishing my shack with fancy little goodies. The thing I like the most about it though, is the fact that it's a darn fun way to interact with friends who are far away. I recommend it, even to non-gamers. The puzzles are not hard to learn, and they're good fun. If anyone would like to try it out, let me know, and I'll share some pieces of eight, and extra swag with ye (er...you.) so you don't have to start at the bottom of the barrel. It's handy to have someone to show you around at first too.

If you already play Puzzle Pirates, my pirate is called Miett, and she's on the Midnight Ocean--send me a "tell" and we can get together and maybe go on a nice relaxing Sunday afternoon pillage...

Vacating

In a couple weeks, something rare and wonderful will be occurring, much like a blue moon, or a phoenix rising from the ashes...or a two headed turtle... or something. For the first time ever in our married lives, (honeymoon excluded) and pretty much the first time in the Boy's entire life, we will be going on a VACATION together. I'm all a-flurry!

We're going to Hilton Head Island, which is kind of funny, because it's a fancy dancy golf resport and we are neither fancy-dancy, nor do we golf. BUT it has pretty beaches, good food, and one can go swimming, play with dolphins etc, or have a boat dump you on one of the little nearby islands for the afternoon so you can poke through old graveyards or have a picnic. Also close by is Savannah, Georgia, which I have wanted to visit since I read Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil. It's supposed to be a really intersting town, with lots of gorgeous southern gothic architecture, and fantastic old cemetaries.

All I can say, is that I hope the Boy gets a taste for vacations. Planning and looking forward to something is almost as happy a thing as going on the trip.

On the positive side...

It's odd that, although for the most part, I'm enjoying Psychonauts, I can only play for limited amounts of time. Now games like Dark Cloud 2, or Katamari Damacy, I negotiate by getting everything done in real life so I can play for large chunks of time... But Psychonauts is different, for some reason. I just end up turning the game off after an hour or so. Hmm.

I must admit, it has one of the most entertaining and wildly varying series of levels I've encountered. You pop into the subconscious of someone with a Napoleon complex, and find you're a miniature piece on a terrain model battle map, which, up close, is a sunny countryside divided into sections. It's fun to run about on. Slightly less fun, however, is dealing with the game in that area.

Another level is in the subconscious of a Spanish painter - The level is called Black Velvetopia, which should give a hint as to what things look like. There are no whites at all--everything looks like...well, a painting on black velvet. This was probably my favorite level. The boss fights were reasonable, and everything was just so darn...neat to look at. I suppose having to avoid a massive magenta bull that comes hurtling down the narrow street you're trying to traverse every 6 seconds or so could get old pretty quickly, but fortunately, I found it more entertaining than anything.

Ah well. Toro!

Cycle-Nots!

The only occasionaly bane of my existence is Psychonauts (for the PS2). I'm about 10 hours in, and have spent some time mucking around in some of the more enjoyable aspects of the game--bouncing really high on a big ball of psychic energy, exploring, and shooting stuff with my mind. Oh--I also sort of enjoy the "collecting stuff" aspect of the game, although I know many people would grind their teeth about this. A lot.

The setting(s) are entertaining: the game takes place at a (government sponsored) woodsy children's camp, where potential psychics are trained in the arts of levitation, focusing mental energy, and burning stuff with your mind. Oh, and you can prolly go canoeing too. The camp is extensive, and eventually, you can also run the about in people's minds as well, for completely different levels. While you're in there, you can clean up mental cobwebs, and clear out emotional baggage. And when I say emotional baggage, I actually mean it. Like, crying duffle bags, and sobbing purses. I wish it were this easy. I'd totally be a shrink, if all it took was popping into someone's subconscious to dust and organize crap.

The thing that really makes me flail and stomp is the boss fights. Some of them require you to do something so arbitrary and weird that you've wasted most of your lives before you figure out what the heck is expected of you. The thing that bothered me the most, though, was an encounter with a completely random and detached boss on a particular level. I was walking along, minding my own business, when I fell through the sidewalk into a fiery cave where I was forced to waste lives and health increasers on a boss who had absolutely NOTHING to do with the level or the game, and for whom beating held no reward to speak of. In fact, it felt almost as if the boss had snuck in from another game. Zelda, perhaps. When, in a flurry of cursing, I defeated the boss, my words were, (through clenched teeth) I *never* want to do that again."

1. Pause game
2. Save to make sure nothing happens to make me have to accidentally have to relive that.

Imagine my joy when abruptly, 10 minutes later, I fell through the sidewalk AGAIN, and had to fight the SAME boss I had just killed, again for no reward or benefit. I was thrilled. What is this? Busy work? For pete's sake, it's a video game! Isn't a time waster IN a time waster a little redundant?? Are they trying to draw out the game somehow?

Other than that sort of crap, the game has been fairly interesting. I'll give a final verdict later.

The Bee's Knees

Or in my case, "the bee's stinger in my knee." Technically a wasp. Ow. Darn those flying snippets of evil. Bees I don't have a problem with. They make hunny (rum-pumpum) and they actually die if they sting you, because they leave their stinger behind, along with what looks like a chunk of guts. I tend to imbue them with logic and such: "Well, I know that huge human is wearing that gawd-awful shirt, but is it really worth the price of death to sting them for it? I'll wait until someone gets a fly swatter. Then I'll attack."

Wasps sting with impunity. And because they *like* to, the little bastards. Actually, the particular sting to which I refer was more educational than anything. At the age of 5-ish, I stuck a stick into a large ground hornet colony and was "well rewarded" for my efforts. Supposedly, I am semi-immune to wasp stings because of it. The sting hurt like the dickens for about 5 minutes, and then almost completely went away, leaving a large but unswollen red mark. And that's how it stayed, with the exception of some itching over the next couple days.

Long, dumb story made longer and dumber.

I realized the other day just how much I like life recently. Incredibly, I am not on medication. I'm just rather content and happy. Which...is really sort of strange. Not that I've never been content or happy before--or indeed, both at the same time. Oh yes, I've managed it--but it's just that this seems to be a pretty permanent state.
I suppose it could have to do with the contrast of the first five months of this year to the last three months. The last three months have just been...good. I'm gaining back a sense of self, a little dignity (but not too much), I'm purging myself of unrealistic expectations and unnecessary guilt, and have worked at putting completely out of my mind the things that make my bloodpressure rise. Surprisingly, it's pretty much worked. And now, apparently, I've also just written a trite and slightly annoying self-help book (see above paragraph, which is long and boring.).

Superdickery at its finest.

Many of you have probably seen the website that is now called superdickery.com. However, I still can't resist posting this particular jewel of wonderous lustre.

For those of you who haven't had the distinct pleasure, the above site is composed of real, unaltered scans from old superhero comics.
Essentially, the idea is that the founder of the site was paging through some old Superman comics, and he realized, "Hey. Superman is a real dick."

Lo and behold, after perusing most of the images on the site, I cannot disagree.

Superman is not just a dick, he's a hilariously selfish bastard. At least the Superman from 20+ years ago was. And so was his riduclous sidekick, Jimmy Olsen, who seems to be alternately trying to sell Superman out or turning into various ape-like creatures and attempting to communicate by using a typewriter...

In fact Lois Lane appears to be the only innocent in this whole deal. She's the one who accidentally takes the potion that ages her 50 years, or is forced to ride around scrunched uncomfortably inside a sweaty, bullet proof bubble. ("It's for your protection, Baby!" calls Superman, and snickers as he waltzes freely down the street next to her. Not an exact quote, but you know what I mean.)

Not Christopher Reeves, though. He was more superman than Superman.

RIP.

RIP, Mr. Robert Moog*

We'll miss ye. I hope they play some awesome synthesizer and theremin at his funeral.

*Moog (pronunced like "rogue" with an M)

Porcuhog babies

Only those with the strongest disposition and utmost confidence that their head will not explode from the utter cuteness should scoll down...



The above are hedgehog babies found on the blog of Liew Cheon Fong, a Malaysian tech-blogger. Those of you who read Boingboing may have seen this photo, as he was linked from there today for posting this very photo. Go LcF!

God Bless the Indian Summer

Listening to Pedro the Lion in the background.

I'm posting a link to the first comic of the series I mentioned a few weeks ago - Starship Crisis...except now it's Starslip Crisis. The site and comic are changing their name, and it has been done oh-so-slickly.

The starship gets around by finding the same crew and ship who happen to already be at the desination in a parallel universe. Switch places, and voila! This last switch landed them into a webpage where the sitename had changed. Read and enjoy.

Our X-box has died inconveniently as I was beginning Psychonauts, which promised to be an interesting and fun game. Darn it all.

Mwah-haha!

Forgive me a cruel chuckle. I left a response after one of snobby-lady's most offensive posts for the forum survey yesterday, and it unleashed a storm of pent up anger toward her from the other survey participants.

My post was comparatively mild-mannered. I answered the mod's question and added, "Wow... Everyone has a right to their own opinion, Bitch-face." (uh, except that I used her actual name, cause I'm polite like that.) She responded, "I never said that everyone didn't in fact I wrote that in my post, if you'd even read it." (Ouch. Run on sentence, anyone?)

I didn't bother responding because several other people responded that they had read her post, and certainly didn't gather from it that she respected anyone else's opinion, and that they also found her tone and posts condescending.

The forum is over and snobby-lady has actually managed to bite her lip and write less offensively since then. I wonder if this will make her think about how she treats people? Probably not, but I get the petty satisfaction of having said something about it.

On a Scale From One to Bitch..er...Ten

I would say this woman in my focus group is a 10+.

I'm participating in a study on consumer opinons of fresh vs. frozen food. (Getting paid, of course. I don't contribute my opinions to the vast machine that is American consumerism for free! Feh!) Today was the first day, and since this morning, the 10 or so people participating have been logging on to give a little rundown about who they are, and giving their opions on the questions and products presented. For the most part, it's a group of nice, regular women. There are people from Colorado to New York, some retired, none with kids, 2 of them widowed, and almost all of them with pets they lavish attention on. (no exception here)

We were focus surveying along, minding our own business, when one woman (who has a line of jewelry and a spoiled lapdog--I picture her as Paris Hilton's mother) took it upon herself to, in the rudest possible way, let us all know how ignorant and bourgeois we were for believing "the ridiculous lie" that frozen food could in any way, shape, or form be acceptable (instead of answering the queston that had been asked). Every single thing she writes proves she is consienciously snobby. Other people have expressed similar views, but everyone else manages to do it without being entirely offensive and condescending.

A few questions later, she reasserted her bitchiness (and failed to answer the question) by insisting that everyone could afford to shop at Whole Foods Market, and you'd have to be stupid not to shop there or a specialty store. (Even the widowed lady on a fixed income who lives in a tiny town in Georgia.) "People who would even shop at a store where they suspect might have something lower quality anywhere in it, are people who should just shop at a dollar store for their food. If I even thought there might be something lower quality at a store, I wouldn't let you shop there for me!"

So... people shop for her?

I begin to despise this woman in earnest.

When asked whether we prefer prepared food from the frozen section or the deli section of our grocery store, she wrote:

"I prefer neither. If I want prepared foods, I'll go to a restaurant instead. It's almost the same price and I trust the owner of the restaurant more than a mega grocery store chain's department manager whose just worked a 12 hour shift for 7 days straight because he's shortstaffed and can't get anyone to work for pennies with lots of hours. I feel he might not be adhering to any health guidelines."

?? Does she have a bone to pick with people who work lots of hours for little pay? (those bastards!) In principle, my preference on the food is the same but.... Woah there, bitch-face. What did a grocery store manager ever do to you? I'd be afraid to EVER eat at a restaurant, if I were you. Folks'll spit in your food faster than you can say, "I'm better than you!"

Bleh. I feel like she's stifling the focus group. Now the lady who admitted she can't often afford fresh seafood, and the retired lady who lives in a small town--they give quick, short answers instead of writing about their opinions like they were before. I don't blame them. I wouldn't want to be dissected and told to grocery-shop at a dollar store because I "clearly don't care about freshness or expiration dates."

Bitch-face feels like she has to convince everyone that A. she's better than them, and B. They should shop exactly the way she shops. ("The only frozen food I buy is Sorbet.")

THAT'S NOT THE POINT OF A FOCUS GROUP.

Session over. I feel better. Until I log on tomorrow and see what other outragously offensive thing she's written.

What a little chalk will do

I stumbled over this pavement artist's site the other day:

Julian Beever

I wish they would show more of the pieces from the "wrong" angle. It's bizarre how distorted he has to make the images to create a 3-D look from one direction. Some of them, it's hard to believe are chalk.

I remember an artist in Royal Oak AGES ago... probably 1994 or so, who was doing impromptu 3 minute paintings of space using spray paint in really unconventional ways. They were beautiful, and I was fascinated because the process was so simple and foolproof. I tried it later, and came of with almost as nice an image. I'll try to remember how it was done, and make one. If it works, I'll take a picture and post it.