|
my sewing and costuming pages
|
|
my personal site
|
|
free fonts made by yours truly
|
|
whatever I'm currently up to
|
|
the things that got me picked on growing up
|
|
whatever I'm currently whining about
|
|
7.31.00, 4:38pm
The train passes this marsh/inlet/chunk of bay that is semidetached from the bay, and I saw a bunch of baby heron! Oh.. they were pretty!
So very bright white. There were several adult, and a LOT of baby, like a field of white question marks. Breathtaking.
7.31.00, 4:07pm
Today has been a long, sticky, irksome day.
It's roughly 80 degrees in SF right now. I'm practically dripping sweat. Yum. It's bound to be hotter at home, since we're more inland. Yay.
I declined a massage at work today (we bring in a pair of massage people every month or so) because I simply don't want to be touched. If I wasn't so friggin' vain, I'd have worn the skimpiest, loosest item I could find. (Right now, I think the honors go to my pink chiton, actually.. I don't know that I'd wear THAT in public.. it's rather.. sheer. AND it's shell pink. Eeeeewww. It's also got bloodstains on the shoulder.. how Roman of me!)
Alas, I AM so friggin' vain, and refuse to wear anything that doesn't at least make me look passable. Which means covering. And black. So yeah, I'm suffering for my vanity. *sigh*
Maybe I'll dig out some nice light fabric and whip something up tonight? I'm SUPPOSED to be cleaning my sewing room, but I'd be doing that by using up some of my fabric, right? Hmm.. I've got that gorgeous black linen left over from Diane's dress.. and that soft soft rayon.. and oohh! black and brown snakeskin jacquard! Hmm.. I could do something really cool with that. Sleeveless, slinky, semi-fitted, short? No. Long, with a slit. Some sheer or lace shrug as sleeves. It would be nice if I had time to bead it. Oh well.
I guess I get to get inventive tonight. *grin*
7.31.00, 6:12am
Yesterday was lovely. Kat came over, and we goofed off, watching scary cooking shows, Persian television, a good Jane Austen movie, and the first thirty minutes of an excruciatingly boring Michael Plain movie.
This morning doesn't feel like Monday, though. It feels more like a Sunday to me. I just want to go back to bed.
7.29.00, 5:42pm
I've just decided that boybands are much more tolerable (and CUTE!) when they aren't singing in English. i-channel just played some Korean boyband that was extremely adorable, and sounded pretty good.
I could get into this, even more than the Indian music videos and the Chinese scary noodle tour show. We have sucky cable, but there's some great stuff on this channel!
7.28.00, 4:03pm
Nothing to update, really.
Just wasting time and stuff. I suppose I could list some of the things I have planned for the site.. things like lists of why some costume movies suck beyond all comprehension (in regards to costuming only, mind you), a general reorganizing of sub-pages, possible translations of some of the quotes in Corsets & Crinolines (I'm doing them for myself, I may as well share, right?), more focus on costuming, other stuff.
I mean, I like the current format, and I intend to keep it, but I want MORE content. I need to feel useful, and as amusing as my misery must be to some folks, it isn't particularly useful.
So I figure I can do up a content-rich costume site, with lots of info on making things, and links to research, and some of my own research (yeah right.. Me? Research? Ha! I usually piggyback other people's stuff, though I try to be very careful and credit my sources.)
Maybe a list of reputable costume resources.. there are some that are less than stellar out there. And yes, that DOES include that Tolkien book with the beautiful illustrations. Unless you're going for fantasy, and not historical. Which is just as valid, really. But not quite the same thing.
7.28.00, 2:03pm
Well, I can deny it no longer. A total stranger identified me as "Goth" today. I've resisted the title for the past five years, claiming it only as an oversimplification of where I fit into the world.
I'm not even all decked out today! My boots, sheer skirt over the one with the elephants, and a formerly-black t-shirt that I stole from Mike, with my hair in "Satan-as-a-cheerleader" ponytails. No corset, no lace, no velvet. No makeup (I look stupid in it anyhow.) But I must be goth.
Hehehheee.
7.27.00, 3:30pm
Another Brilliant Invention:
I can screen out things I don't want to see with glasses. I can block sounds I'd like to avoid with headphones. But there is no way to block out smells.
Onions. Stale burnt popcorn. Serious BO. This is all pretty offensive stuff. Someone should invent some sort of noseplugs that don't look stupid and still allow you to breathe, while blocking out the smells of other people.
7.27.00, 9:11am
I broke the network again. I get my NT box soon, since I keep crashing the file server with 95.
So, in downtime, I'm adding to the site again. My newest self-portrait is up. (Just don't look at it if the boss is standing behind you or anything. It's what I see when I look down when I'm in my Faire costume. This should give you fair (faire?) warning.)
Moved more stuff to the archive.
7.26.00, 6:10
I wish we all came with creepiness-sensors built in. This morning, on the way to the train, some guy was at a traffic light, waiting for it to change. As I got to the corner, the blinking hand came on, so rather than risk getting squished, I waited, too. This guy the either decided I looked tired and needed a ride, or else that I looked like some sort of prostitute.
He waved at me, trying to say something. I couldn't figure it out. I just smiled and kept walking.
About half a block later, he pulls up next to me, and asks if I want a ride. I said that I was just going to the train station (about a block further), and no thanks. He tried to get me closer to the truck, but I smiled, shook my head, and went to check the flyers in the window of the Irish Pub (since they're doing live music some nights, and I wanted to find out when anyhow.) When I looked up, he was gone.
But now, I don't know if he was just being nice, or was a creep. I'm going to feel guilty all day if he really was nice.
7.25.00, 4:48pm
I am totally loving this Special Effects dye. I did my hair two months ago (ok.. two months minus two days), and I've had almost no fade. A little of the Atomic Pink has faded, but the Virgin Rose is as bright as the day I did it.
I am so in love.
7.25.00, 2:35pm
So, the pain is gone. I have been able to take stairs and the like without anything worse than normal. Now all I have to do is get rid of the damn sunburn.
7.25.00, 10:25am
I keep seeing this guy in the mornings (as I'm getting off the train), who looks *just* like Destruction of the Endless. It's very weird.
7.25.00, 6:16am
So, he finally brought home video crack last night. Yep, Diablo 2. I swear that I'm going to have to develop a gaming interface that will cause the player to lose terribly unless his girlfriend/wife/significant other/female person is happy.
Next time he wants me to dry dishes or something, I think I'll respond with "Can't talk. Sewing."
Why is it when I want something, and he's gaming, he won't help me, but when I'm in the middle of something, and he wants something, I have to drop everything and help?
7.24.00, 4:12pm
Nope, the pain has not faded, despite repeated use of the afflicted limbs, and a general haze of Tiger Balm surrounding me. What is annoying me most is that I can feel the individual muscles moving as I walk.
It feels like they aren't attached all the way, or that they're very stretched. They want to wobble. No, it's not a screaming pain as if they really were detached, but more of a "I feel this movement that shouldn't be there." It's more a curious sensation than pain.
I bet this is what silly putty feels like.
7.24.00, 6:13am
Ugh! I'm *still* in pain from Saturday. I couldn't tell what the train station smelled like this morning. Saturday, it smelled like Macaroni & Cheese. Today, all I smelled was Tiger Balm, since my legs are slathered with the stuff.
I guess I need to brave the displeasure of my sunburn, and head for the hot tub again tonight.
7.23.00, 4:37pm
So yesterday, I saw my aunt. I haven't seen her in ages and ages.. we had a good time.
The only problem is that I wound up walking. Lots. Much more than I'm used to/ought to. I walked from the CalTrain station at 4th & King, to her hotel, which is very near 5th and Market. We then proceeded to walk to North Beach, and then to Fisherman's Wharf.
I picked up some nice new sunburn (yeeeooowwch!), and I'm hobbling around in pain because my legs feel like they want to fall off.
On the other hand, we discovered a great new party game last night. (Please keep in mind that the youngest person in the house at the time is 19, and we all have fairly responsible jobs and are usually considered "adults.")
Balloons.
Yes, for some really silly reason, seven adults wound up flopping all over the place, screaming with laughter, bappping a bunch of big purple balloons at each other. This is something that everyone under the age of nine excels at, but promptly forgets as soon as they become aware of the opposite sex.
I like to think that we rediscovered it last night.
7.21.00, 3:12pm
I wish I knew where my clothes are disappearing to.
It's not just that I shed them in odd parts of the house, and it's not that they're in a weird place where I wouldn't think to look, like the closet. (People who know me will laugh at that statement.) They're just *missing.*
Today, I was looking for a specific skirt. I know it's been washed, and thus, should be on the shelf where we keep clothes. Also, a specific shirt that looks nice with said skirt. Neither were on the shelf, nor were they hanging in the closet (why would they be?), they weren't in the laundry basket, and not in my sewing room, which is where everything missing winds up.
I gave up on the skirt and shirt, and went looking for my 'hooky' dress. (It's a sundress with spaghetti straps and hooks & eyes up the front.) Looks cute with a t-shirt over it and a pair of leggings. It too, has been washed recently. Missing also.
This is extremely frustrating. I know I put this stuff away on the shelf. And recently!
7.21.00, 1:46pm
Someone posted the URL of one of those online personality test thingies, and of course, I *had* to do it, and comment on the results. I think I'm going to do this to a lot of those.. I love taking online tests!
7.21.00, 6:16am
I just learned something disturbing about myself. Apparently, not only do I talk in my sleep, but I can hold full conversations, too.
I am told that I spent a good chunk of last night talking, though the only thing I remember is waking up for a few seconds to ask a question. This would explain why I'm so damn tired, even if I DID go to bed at 10:00.
Now, I'm all spazzy about what was discussed. He couldn't remember. It's not like I have anything to hide; I tell him everything anyhow, but if I'm not fully awake, I could be talking from a dream, and who *knows* what goes on in those..
I have a feeling that I'm going to be mildly obsessed with this all day.
Oh yeah, and something smells like fish sticks by the train station this morning. Ick!
7.20.00, 4:24pm
I wish I had something important to do, or at least, something that made me look busy and occupied as I sit here, pretending not to be hypnotized by the silly plug-in for my mp3 player.
The guy across the aisle from me is wheeling and dealing. The guy in front of him is reading some Java text. And here I sit, watching what amounts to a screensaver. Yes, this is supposed to be lost time and all, but still!
But it's ok. A Ramones song just started. That'll make it all better. *laugh* Takes me back, it does...
7.20.00, 4:10pm
Well, I never thought they'd do it, but the train actually put two of the icky plastic cars together. I'm in the third car, facing the wrong way. I *never* sit this far up. Eeeew.
If I was stopping at Walgreen's on the way home, or taking a detour to go to the porn shop, maybe I could see it. But this amounts to an extra block on the walk home with a 30 pound weight strapped to my shoulder.
There is no point to this ramble. But I refuse to sit in those uncomfy skinny-people plastic cars.
7.20.00, 11:06am
Do you think there are actually any companies that get more calls from clients (other than tech support and pizza joints) than they do from other companies trying to sell them stuff?
7.20.00, 6:30am
I got an idea into my head about this truly obnoxious Elizabethan gown I want to make. The dress is to be of a heavy geometric brocade, pearled beyond the bounds of common sense.
The pattern of the fabric is small (about .5" across) diamonds, with a 'thing' in the center of each. Where the 'thing' is, I was going to put a pearl. On each of them. (Yes, it's a lot of beading.)
If I was still playing with the SCA, this wouldn't be a problem. It would be heavy, time consuming, and annoying as hell, but not a problem.
But I'm playing with Faire these days. There is a Queen wandering around. I can't overshadow her. And this dress.. will overshadow almost everyone.
So I got an idea. Instead of sewing all those damn pearls on, I can put them on little pins. This way, if I get into sumptuary trouble, I can remove some of the offending pearls without undoing hours and hours of work.
And I can rearrange them. And get other "jewels" to put on pins and change the look of the gown.
I wonder if I can document this? I know that it was fairly common to pick the decoration off one dress to use on a different dress, but I don't know if they would swap things back afterwards.
I've been reluctant to make this thing because it'll be a) heavy as hell, b) too ostentatious even for me, and c) my weight keeps fluxing, and I don't want to go though hell to make this gorgeous gown, and suddenly find out it doesn't fit.
Also, I can't decide if I want to dye the fabric, or leave it cream-colored. If I dye it black, the pearls will pop really well. If I leave it cream, they won't pop, but I'll have to use better quality pearls, and it'll show the dirt better.
At least I finally got past the "French farthingdale or Spanish?" issue.
7.19.00, 4:29pm
Thinking about what an info junkie I've become. I like to check my mail every hour or so (more frequently, if I can). I have to check my news sites several times during the day, to see if anything interesting is happening in the world.
I don't need to do these things to survive, but I'm utterly compelled. I guess I just like the rush of getting new info all the time. It's a silly endorphin thing.
Or else it's just distracting me from how bored/miserable/tired/lonely I get.
I do know that the 'net serves as my conduit to the outside world, and if I'm cut off, I get itchy. Well, usually. If I'm actually *doing* something, it's entirely a different story.
7.19.00, 11:16am
Another good site: The Skeptic's Dictionary.
7.19.00, 10:30am
Oooohh! It's so cuuuute!
Apple's new PowerMac Cube is probably the cutest computer since the iBook. (Yeah, yeah. I'm biased. I love my iBook.)
Why didn't people come up with things like this before, I wonder? It's not as if beige boxes *have* to be an icky color or filled with lots of air, ya know. (ok, ok.. they can't be tiny, since they need a fan, but still..)
The new iMac colors ain't bad, either.
7.19.00, 6:14am
Wow. Nothing to update yesterday. I mean, yeah, they caught the kid, I found some interesting sites, but nothing that warranted a proper update.
A friend of mine started up one of those MSN community things, and I'm trying to think of a better solution for her. I can't access it from home. I tried using Lynx (yeah right), and then Netscape. The site bade me turn on cookies. I did so. Accepted 12 (!) of the things, and then it wouldn't show me the site. (All I got was a blank gray page.)
It's tempting to mail them and tell them their site won't work, and see whether or not their answer will be for me to use IE. (I won't, incidentally. On a PC, where it's unavoidable, yes. On a Mac, where it isn't, hell no.)
Not that I bear Netscape any particular love, but *their* browser doesn't drop 1.5 MB of random files in conspicuous places on my machine when it opens. (Some at root-level, and some in the system folder. This is *in addition* to the existing folder for the program. If it kept it all to the prefs folder, and the folder it already resided in, I wouldn't have been so pissed.)
7.17.00, 3:14pm
Lovely.
Some hormone-addled twit decides to shoot up a school, and doesn't have the brains to bleach the nifty colors out of his hair first and hit the Gap for clothes to do it in.
Here we go again for another round of Goth-bashing.
How much do you wanna bet that all of us freaks with funny-colored hair will get looked at oddly for the next few months?
7.17.00, 6:03am
No updates in a few days, since I've been at faire.
Had a good time. This was my first faire as a participant, not just some silly person who dressed up to go. Truthfully, there is very little difference.
Despite carrying a parasol, and plenty of sunblock, I got a really nasty burn on my back, shoulders and cleavage. (If my latest self-portrait comes out, I'll be sure to put it in a conspicuous place. It shows my lovely bodice-burn quite clearly.)
The thing they *don't* tell you about faire is that Monday morning will hurt like anything.. my legs muscles are aching, my feet still hurt, I can't carry my computer case properly on my shoulder for the sunburn (which hurts when anything is brushed against it; made getting dressed fairly tough this morning. Also showering. Yeouch!)
7.14.00, 1:56pm
I must not look nearly as scary as I usually do today. I've had four people strike up conversations with me about my glasses. Or else it's just a Friday thing.
Weird.
7.14.00, 10:02am
In my never ending quest for useless info, I have found a great new site: Brian's Brain.
7.14.00, 6:15am
Poking around on Bored.com yesterday, I came across this really insulting guide to losing weight on a how-to site.
They've got a little formula for working out how many calories you need to maintain your current weight. I did mine, following their instructions, and supposedly, I need to consume 4499 calories a day to stay where I am.
Yes, I eat more that I ought to (if I didn't eat at all, I'd get thin, right?), but I can *guarantee* that I don't eat 4500 calories per day. Maybe a little over 2000.
Even if we alter the formula to allow for my (really wonking slow) metabolism, I'd have to eat 3960 calories per day. There is something fundamentally flawed with the system.
I'm wondering what sort of response I'd get if I mailed them and told them as much. Do you think they'd call me "Tubbo" to my virtual face?
7.13.00, 4:07pm
Another day wasted. This really stinks.
7.13.00, 6:11am
Things I've gotta get done tonight:
- Make Bloomers
- Find/make belt pouch
- get everything packed
- get a piece of cloth for basket
- Watch Rob Roy to get accent down (And lust after Liam Neeson, but that's not as important)
- pick up the mess I made looking for stuff last night
How many of these do you think I'll actually accomplish?
7.12.00, 1:26pm
Agck!
I need to go dancing soon. I keep trying to work out a pavane to Thorns.
7.12.00, 6:13am
Grrrrrr. I hate people.
I take the train every morning. There are two types of cars: the old ones with the comfy seats, and the new ones with the gray plastic backs that have arms that won't move. The newer cars were designed to be comfy for people considerably smaller than I am.
I am also a creature of habit. Once I find a position (second car, first compartment, third seat on the right, if I can get it) I like, I stick to it. So I get into the little cluster that would get the second car of the train. Today, the second car is one of the icky plastic ones. So I move to dash for the third car. (They never put two icky cars together.)
The platform in a narrow concrete walkway, maybe about a foot higher than the tracks. Three (yes, THREE) little old ladies, slow like frozen molasses, were blocking the way. I had to run for the door of the car I wanted, and came within a few seconds of missing it.
If I EVER get that pathetic, I want someone to kill me. I don't want to live if I can't move at a decent speed. It means that something in my body will have ceased functioning, and I don't like that notion.
7.12.00, 5:40am
So I was watching this show on Renaissance portraits last night (on PBS... don't recall the name of the show, but it was pretty dumb), and while most of the information they were spewing was pretty good, the one guy said the silliest thing.
He was commenting on a portrait of a young woman wearing mourning, her hand on a slightly swelled belly (as if she were pregnant). The guy claims that she probably wasn't (which I'll go along with; this painting is from the 15th century, and the pregnant belly look was in vogue), and that she was likely wearing a farthingdale, which came from Spain, and was sort of a metal chastity device you wore over your stomach and abdomen.
Now, I know that several things have multiple names, this is just silly. A farthingdale is a style of hoop skirt. It exists to shape skirts, not to keep one chaste and give you a pot belly.
Why do art historians think they know more about the clothing shown in these paintings than do the costumers? They study the painters and paintings, we study the clothes. Big difference, no?
7.11.00, 4:04pm
There's all these people (see the talkback sections of anything ZDNet has out there regarding Napster and MP3) prophesying the end of music if the record companies don't get their way.
Haven't these people heard about art for the sake of art? If your goal in making music is solely to make money, you aren't in the right career. Go record Muzak tracks for supermarket use or something.
Fine. I'm not a musician. I don't have the talent. If I'd actually practiced any of the instruments I've played (the big three are Piano, Cello, and Guitar), I'd never have been better than "good." However, as an artist of a different sort (costume, painting, sculpture), I can reliably tell you that I, personally, spend far more time and money producing these works than I would selling them. Does this bother me? No.
I create because I need to. Any musician worth her salt should feel the same way. Yes, I am pleased when someone I like gets rich from her efforts, but I don't judge success by dollar signs.
I work a job I don't particularly care for (if you ask me at the end of the week, I absolutely hate it) so I can afford to create. I've always seen this as a necessity. I am no different than any other artist out there. Some may be more talented, some less. Some may make money doing what they love (more power to them), others may have to work 40+ hours a week to afford their art. It's just the way it is. Deal.
Do we really need a world of musicians of the caliber of Eminem and Brittany Spears? Because that is what we're going to get if it all comes down to the bottom line.
7.11.00, 3:02pm
Gamespy's Top 10s. Funny things. Go see.
7.11.00, 12:41pm
Da Vinci's Parachute Flies. This is perhaps taking historical accuracy a bit too far, but it's still cool as hell.
7.11.00, 11:57am
I learned an important fact today. You can't make a staple go though 40 sheets of normal paper. I don't care how hard you try. It won't work.
7.11.00, 11:06am
So, there's this total asshead I work with. I can't stand him. He's the sort of person who points out a comma in the wrong place in a book already published, and expects that people will think him terribly, terribly important for noticing.
Tomorrow morning, we're having bagels to celebrate the birthdays of two employees. They agreed with me on the date, the Business manager chose the date, and everyone has been alerted to the existence of this celebration.
Asshead decides to send an e-mail this morning, telling both me and the president of the company that the bagel feast will conflict with our usually scheduled status meetings. Actually, it won't. You go, before your meeting, grab a bagel. Or after your meeting. It's not a big deal. Asshead is just being a brownnosing, picayune, buttmunch.
He did this for his own birthday bagel feast (it was shared with me and one other person; we were supposed to have cake). One of these days, he's going to piss off the wrong person, and then I, as office support, will have to deal with the fallout. I just wish he'd go away.
7.10.00, 4:11pm
Busy, icky day at work. I felt very defensive for the first half of the day, and by the end of it, I simply didn't care anymore.
Tonight, I have to see if I can't make a trip to the record store. I bought a copy of Ani's Little Plastic Castle, and it's got a nasty skip (tried on multiple CD players, did the magic t-shirt trick, skip is still there) on track three, Gravel, which is, of course, one of the songs I *really* like. I've got to see if they can replace it for me.
This is the first used CD I've ever bought that had a problem.
*sigh*
7.9.00, 7:13am
Many, many days worth of stuff to update. I hate it when I can't do this regularly. I really do.
7.7.00, 11:12am
I am bored bored bored. I really wish I could just go home and get some sewing done, but I have to be here at 3:30, so I can go pick up food for our company meeting. If it weren't for that, I'd just go HOME.
I have a corset, cat ears, a bird-bell collar to make. I want to get going on them. I won't really have time tomorrow, though I can probably get the gromms done on the corset in the morning. (Won't the neighbors just LOVE me?)
First thing I have to do tonight when I get home is make a trip to the fabric store, and pray that they have everything I need.
7.7.00, 7:40am
YAAAAYYYYY!! Shanmonster's Site is back up!!!
It's not at it's old URL or anything, but yaaaayyyyy!
7.7.00, 6:28am
I really have to upload this soon.
7.6.00, 4:13pm
Did you know that there are NO instructions for making a pair of cat-ears on the web? Or if there are, I sure couldn't find any. I'm going to have to make up a set.
7.6.00, 4:09pm
Ugh. The train is filled today with people from the Giant's game this afternoon. Eeewwww.
Have I ever mentioned that I hate sports fans?
Yes, I'm sure I'd totally adore some of them if I met them socially. It's the whole sports thing I can't hack. Imagine.. paying some guys more money in one year to *play a game* than most families make in a decade.
This is something to admire and support?
7.6.00, 10:52am
There are things I just hate about working.. I'm currently all inspired and fired up to do some sewing. I want to make a corset/cincher with a long skirt attached, to go over a gown I just got and feel a little too lumpy in. I'm hoping to wear the thing on Saturday night, which doesn't leave much time.
I've got sketches of the outfit, working out the makeup, accessories, etc. I'm incredibly anxious. I want to get *working* on this.
But I know that as soon as I get home tonight, I'm going to be tired, crabby, listless, and completely not inclined to get anything done. This SUCKS!
7.5.00, 4:35pm
New rant, new desktop, fixed some random crap. It's been a slow day.
7.5.00, 6:11am
You know, I didn't do a damn thing for 4th of July. Kinda sad, really. Got home, went to dinner, read for a while, went to bed at 9:00.
I hate being a grownup.
7.4.00, 6:55pm
Home again, home again...
Ok, so I've been home for a few hours. But the sentiment stands. I'm glad to be back. We just got back from dinner, where I had a nice, bloody steak, because after sitting behind mister "I must be related to Joy, the horrid model from your life drawing class who switched positions every five seconds because I can't seem to sit still either," I needed to eat something that bled.
Yeah, it's probably just PMS, but it could be just that the guy was a jerk, ya know.
7.4.00, 1:37pm
There's an Amish lady on the plane. How cool is THAT?!
I thought they couldn't fly or anything, though they did come into Burger King when I worked there.
7.4.00, 1:25pm
For those whose comfort and personal space is infringed upon by jerks who put their seats back too far, you CAN hold the seat from going fully back by putting your hand on the headrest. It hurts, and I'm typing one-handed, but I can actually see my screen.
If it wouldn't get me in trouble, I'd smack this asshole. (Window Seat, right next to the wing, stripey shirt, 10:40 am flight from Chicago to San Francisco. You know who you are.)
7.4.00, 11:07am (Pacific Time)
I have this total urge to rub my gum into the hair of the guy sitting in front of me. He doesn't know how to sit still, AND he's got his seat back as far as it can possibly go. (I can't see what I'm typing, because I've only got this thing open about 1/3 of the way.)
There should be a "put the seat of the guy in front of me back" button on all airplanes. Proper placement would be on the back of the headrest of the seat in front of you.
Yes, I acknowledge that he has the right to recline, but I also have a right to have my laptop open to more than a 35 degree angle.
7.4.00, 9:01am (Eastern time)
Well, we're at the airport, waaaaay early. There's nobody here to issue us our boarding passes, which isn't a big deal, since the plane is scheduled to leave at 10:40.
It'll be good to be home.
7.3.00, 8:09pm (Eastern time)
Finally saw Dogma. (The fates and my work schedule has managed to conspire against my seeing that (or any other) movie for a long time.) I can see why it didn't do particularly well, but I'm highly amused by it.
It's been a screwed-up weekend. Alarms not really alarming, people not calling when they say they will, connections not being made, all sorts of fun and nasty shit.
I'm actually looking forward to going back to work, but don't quote me on that Wednesday morning.
And yes, everything from the month of June is now in its own file.. hidden in the archives. Trust me, it won't damage you to read it. *grin*
7.2.00, 10:14 (Eastern time)
The wedding went off beautifully. The bride was, predictably, gorgeous (she's always been very beautiful to me), the groom looked a bit uncomfy in his suit, but was as cute as ever. Food was good, company was great. It was a good time.
7.1.00, 9:21 (Eastern time)
Well, obviously, we made it here OK. The flights were harrowing, and the Slug tells me that we are to avoid 757s and 727s from here on in.
Went to Kostas last night for dinner.. Greek food at last! (There was none in Virginia, and I sure haven't found any in SF.) If I had ambitions to be a resturanteur, I'd open a really good Greek place, either in SOMA or near Golden Gate Park, close to Haight. (Since both are places I go fairly frequently.)
Though I think there's some code in CA that would require me to offer Mango Souvlaki or something. Uck!
|
