Moo, Y'all

As some of you know, I grew up on a ranch in the Santa Ynez Valley in California. And on this ranch we had some cows, ee-eye-ee-eye… sorry…

Now, I live on the outskirts of an Oklahoma town, surrounded by beautiful, lush pastures. And in some of these pastures are herds of cattle (see? No ee-eye-ee-eye-o crapola).

So, do Oklahoma cattle sound different than those in California? Or do the Herefords of Great Britain have an English accent? A study now shows that cattle have regional accents, like people.

Now I’ve heard everything.

Hemp Couteur

The web project is, basically, finished. The next three days will be spent creating the foreign language pages (German, French and Spanish), but that should go pretty quickly. Then, there is always a little fine-tuning, but I’m pretty much calling this one “in the can”.

Thanks again to Ville and Lashell for coming over and making me drink their wine. They made me, I tell you. I didn’t want to! I wanted to knit…. or embroider… or something like that. Yeah, that’s it. I wanted to sit and knit myself a winter nose-warmer, but would they let me.

The best (and scariest) part was when I drove to get some muchies. I’d had two glasses of wine and I was wearing a hemp shirt with a pot leaf pattern all over it (it was given to me by Ville, who got it from someone else, who bought it for their mother thinking the pattern was of palm trees). Oh yeah, and I had to drive about 5 miles (past Tumbleweeds, where all the cops were hanging out because it was College Night) to the Texaco on Hwy 51 and Counrty Club Road, because our street is still all torn up. Our local stop ‘n rob is only 1/4 of a mile away, but I had to drive all the way out there to get some chips and assorted dips. Oh well, I got home safe and sound, but the visions going through my head weren’t great:

Police Officer Obie: “Kid, where ya goin’ in that marijuana shirt?”
Steph: “Sir, I'm going to the Texaco to get some chips and dips.”
PO Obie: “What ch’yall been smokin’, kid?”
Steph: “Nothing, officer. I don’t smoke pot any more. I don’t even smoke cigarettes.”
PO Obie: “Kid, you want me to believe that, on a Friday night, College Night at that, you’re driving away from Tumbleweeds in a marijuana shirt, goin’ to get munchies, and you ain’t been smokin’ nothin’?”
Steph: “That’s the truth, sir. I cannot tell a lie.”
PO Obie: “Kid, we’re gonna take you downtown and take yer pit’cher in that fine marijuana shirt.”

Have you ever driven out in compromising or silly clothes?

Hair Night

Ville and Jeanette came over tonight to help me tie one on and I must say, they did a damned good job. Now they’re snug and sleeping upstairs and I’m writing this, ready to go to bed.

Thanks, my Muses, for helping your Prometheus to remember that there is fire out there!

As Good As It Gets Doesn't Suck

I was so exhausted from the schedule I’ve been keeping for the past six weeks that I ate dinner, took a Xanax, and went to bed. I was asleep by 8:30. I woke up about an hour ago, cleaned the kitchen, made some coffee, and took a shower. I feel great!

I’m plowing through the current web project like a maniac and I intend to get a great deal accomplished today. I have to. There are a number of other things going on that need my attention.

1. I have another web project waiting.
2. I have a new web project.
3. I have a MySpace site to design and build.
4. I’ve been asked to help a friend in setting up an e-commerce site.
5. The Okie Blogger Roundup at which I’ve been asked to speak.
6. I have to take out the garbage (no small feat at my age, when the barrels weigh nearly as much as I do, the dumpster is taller than I am and is a block from the house, and the temperature is in the high 90s). I nearly had a stroke last week! I had to come in and lay back with a cold compress on my forehead because my BP was so high. I was as white as a ghost and sweating like I’d just run a marathon.
7. Lynette and I are moving back upstairs because my youngest son, Micah, is coming home in two weeks. We’re so excited! I want to take the opportunity to steam clean all the carpets, plus there’s all the moving to do.

I was thinking the other evening that I really am very, very fortunate. I work from home doing what I love and beginning to make some good money, I have a marriage that is about as perfect as it can be, I have a beautiful, happy, healthy, well-adjusted family, a beautiful home, a budding new business that is based on service to the arts, and my son is coming home. My life has always been pretty traumatic and uncertain. At last, I can exhale.

Falling in Line

As much as I hate routine, I’m finding that I need a bit of it my life these days. Because of my web design work, I sit at this computer more that I do nearly anything else. It has become a job–which isn’t a bad thing–but I’m finding that I do need to get away from my “place of work”. So here’s the schedule I have set for myself:


MONDAY-FRIDAY:

• Work from whenever I get up in the morning to 6:00 pm
• Break until 10:00 pm (power nap time)
• Work from 10:00 pm until I go to bed (usually around 5:00 am)
  

SATURDAY:

• Day: Away from computer; time to do things around the house
• Night: Sometimes go to Ville’s or go out
  

SUNDAY:

• Afternoon: Play on the computer (blog, surf, update sites, games, etc.)
• Evening: Get things setup for the week ahead, do “office work” (invoices, receipts, etc.)
• Night: I usually get to work again, although I probably shouldn’t
  

Of course, none of this cover those times when we just up and leave for lunch or dinner, or watch telly. It’s just a basic rundown.

Redeeming Myself

Alright, so the Beatle graphics are cute. I’m not into cute, but I love the Beatles. Still, I can’t go to bed knowing they’re just hanging out, dancing on my page while I’m gone. I’ve decided to leave you with something cultural, something that hopefully, might redeem me.

Working on this art site has been like a course in Art Appreciation and I’m really enjoying learning about all of the artists, and getting to know their work. A few days ago I came across a painting that I really liked, so I’ll share it with you.

Before I Go to Bed

I’ve finished working for the night and I just wanted to share these with you before I disappear into my dreams that will be full of art. That’s beginning to happen to me now.

Oh, and I will NOT lose Thursday this week, but I may not get the Roundtable notice up until later in the morning, after I catch a couple hours of sleep. I do sleep once in a while y’know.

What We Don't Know About Our Friends

Geor3ge, you never told us that you were a child star…

Gastronomie

I’ve been thinking about the things I will and will not eat ever since I read RW’s entry about his latest bistro adventure.

• For instance, why can I eat shrimp, which is basically a marine insect, but I can’t eat crayfish
• Why do I like clams on the half shell, but I won’t eat cooked green-lipped mussels?
• Why do I eat fried hot dog sandwiches, but I don’t eat Spam?
• Why will I eat sushi (as long as I’ve downed a lot of sake), but I won’t touch lox on a bagel
• And why can’t I eat something if it still looks like itself, i.e. fish with the head left on, Coq au vin with the chicken’s feet sticking out of the pot, luau roast pig with its head and legs still attached, etc?

It doesn’t make any sense. I’m not a picky eater, but even gnawing on fried chicken can get to me if I stop to think about what I’m actually doing. And it’s not that I’m a borderline vegetarian, because I did that already and I didn’t like it. For three years I didn't like it. It’s a good thing I don’t have Anthony Bourdain’s job. I’d never make it.

Here’s a list of things. Do you/would you eat any of them? And is eating them really any different than eating more “normal” foods?

• Kangaroo
• Rattlesnake
• Dog
• Veal
• goat
• Horse
• Dandelion Root
• Ostrich
• Fried grasshopper
• Mountain oysters
• Calf’s brains
• Acorn mush

A Late Night Ramble

The synchronicity of things amazes me. I don’t believe in coincidence or chance, because I’m a great believer in karma. But let me explain that karma isn’t just the, “I do good, I receive good; I do bad, I receive bad” proposition that most people think it is. There’s long-term karma--the kind that can take lifetimes to work itself out--and there’s what Lennon called “instant karma”. But I think there’s also something wedged in between those two extremes.

Take driving.

There’s a 4-way stop on the road that runs by our house. Just a blinking red light. Sometimes I’ll go buy groceries after one in the morning in order to avoid the crowds, and I have to turn left at that intersection to go into town. Usually, there’s not a car in sight, so I don’t stop, I just turn. What the heck? But once in a while, I’ll see a car coming toward the intersection from the direction I’ll be turning. When this happens, they never get there before me, or after me. They get to the intersection and stop at the exact same time that I do.

Every time.

Have you ever been out driving the Interstate late at night and saw a set of car lights on the other side of the median coming toward you, and as they passed, wondered who they are and what their story is? I do that all the time. Every last one of has a story. And every last one of us thinks the Universe, and life, revolves around us. It’s amazing.

We humans are aggravating and wondrous creatures. There are times when we fill me with rage and sadness, and there are times when I’m so delighted with us that I weep. Sometimes, when I think about all of the people who have lived, are living, and are yet to live, I feel defeated and small, like I make no difference at all. Then, when I realize how unique each of us is, I feel exalted.

Before I close my computer down and got to bed, I want to ask you two questions:

1. What is it about the human race that pisses you off?
2. What is it that endears our race to your heart?

My answers are:

1. Our willingness to be stupid.
2. Our sense of humor.

Your turn!

Another Lost Thursday

Is it really Friday? Sheesh! I missed Thursday again! What’s up with this crapola? I was feeling guilty because I forgot about the Roundtable and I thought I’d slip the plug in before midnight. Suddenly saw that it’s Friday.
I have no idea where my head is sometimes… (No comments, thank you very much!)

Well, better later than never. Besides, it’s all relative since time doesn’t really exist anyway. Steven Funk, at Serenade in Green, has finally succumbed to meme fever and has invited us to take part.

1. What was the last city you visited?
   Gibtown in Florida.
   
2. Name three things you liked about it.
   1) The Showtown bar.
   2) The Fellini-like experience we had shooting there.
   3) Free drinks.
   
3. Name and three things you disliked.
   1) It’s old and seedy.
   2) It was really humid.
   3) Too circus-like.
   
4. So, based on your visit--however brief--would you ever consider living there?
   Not on your life.

I Almost Forgot the Secret

Coffee & Sam-e

Last night OETA (our local PBS channel) played a trio of fantastic shows. First up was the Blue Man Group. While this show was on I learned that they will be performing in OK in November.

“What a great gift for Micah’s birthday!” I thought, so Nettl did some research online.

The good thing is that they will be in Tulsa the night following his birthday; I thought it would be fun for Micah, Joel, Nettl and I to go to the show together. The bad thing is that the cost of this would be half of what we pay for rent! Who can afford to put out $150--per person? And no one goes alone to anything, so that’s $600! Damn.

Next up was John Denver Remembered. Oh, go ahead, be smug, but I’ve always loved John Denver and his death devastated me, although I’m not sure why. I think it was because when he died, it was like losing a brother. He was such a positive force because, personal problems aside, he never lost his faith in us. Anyway, it was a good documentary.

Last came The Concert for Bangladesh with George Harrison, Ringo Starr, Eric Clapton, Billy Preston, Leon Russell, Badfinger, Ravi Shankar, and of course, Bon Dylan. I used to own the 8-Track so the performance was very familiar. I’ve also watched it on VHS a number of times. Oh yeah, I never get tired of Billy’s solo of “That’s the Way God Planned It”.

Watching these shows helped me to forget my current bout of depression for a while, except that I had to fight off the feelings of loss over John Denver, George Harrison and Billy Preston, but when I went to bed I told myself that I would feel better when I woke up. I think I do, but it’s tenuous.

Good news for those of you who will be attending the Okie Blogger Roundup in Bricktown next month:

It’s being held the day before my birthday! If anyone wants to go, check out the link above. Pre-registration is only $20; at the door you’ll pay more, and only so many can be allowed attendance. I suggest you register online NOW.

I bought some of that SAM-e yesterday and although it’s too soon for that to work, I do believe (now that the coffee is working its magic) I feel better today. You know what that means? That means I have to get busy on the current website project.

Question: Do you ever think that you’d like to meet your favorite bloggers?

White Jacket with Long Sleeves For One, Please

CURRENT PROJECT:

• Pages: 456
• Deadline: 09/01
• Pages completed: 72 (plus template & site design, gathering images, selecting fonts, etc.)
• Pages remaining: 384
• Days remaining before deadline: 25

RESULTS:
Pages per day to meet deadline: 15.4
Considering what I’m being paid for the project as a whole, I am making only $3.30 per page!

This sucks.

I’m already getting ill from working 17 hour days. And after the pages are built, there’s still all of the links and bugs to work out.

I’m ready for the rubber room now.

***UPDATE***

While working, I discovered 4 more pages, so that makes 460 pages. And I forgot to mention that 82 pages of the site are also translated into three languages, so let’s add 246 more pages to my list.

This is inhuman.

Too Pooped to Pop

Back in the 1970s, John Lennon had a tee shirt that had written across its front, THIS IS NOT HERE. The full meaning of that phrase has finally hit home. I am not here.

This web project is so huge that I don’t have time to scratch my ass. I’ve been working 17-hour days/nights in order to meet the deadline, so that provides me only with time to power-nap between bouts with my computer and the evil beastie. It’s going to be this way–and even intensify–as midnight, September 1st, looms ever nearer. Plus, I never really had time to get over my Florida trip, where I saw an old friend of mine. But as soon as I got home, the web gigs started really rolling in. Not that I’m complaining…

So I just wanted to say that I do check in long enough to read comments and smack myself with the guilt hammer, but until this monstrosity is in the can and thrown into the lake of fire, my entries will be short and sporadic.

Thanks for your patience. Now, would someone please get me another cuppa Joe?

Asshat

The stupidest things keep me awake at night. It might be a thought that I’m tailing, or it might be a collection of ideas. Sometimes it can be one word. Like last night.

Yesterday, Nettl said that someone was an asshat. A simple statement, really, but it was all my brain needed. When I finally went to bed, I kept thinking about the word, asshat.

Who made up the word and how did it get to be so popular? Somewhere out there is that one person who first said, “What an asshat!” I suppose he or she used it on their weblog or something, and it began to get around.

What a word! Asshat. I want to know exactly what an asshat is. Our brains function largely through symbols, but I can’t get a picture in my head when I hear the word. I mean, is it a hat that looks like an ass, or is it a jaunty little hat that your ass is supposed to wear? If it’s the former, who would wear such a thing, and if it’s the latter, how could one wear it? My brain sees something vaguely pink and wrinkled, but beyond that, it’s left imageless. So I went asshat surfing.

The Urban Dictionary tells me:
1) One who has their head up their ass. Thus wearing their ass as a hat and
2) A person, of either gender, whose behavior displays such ignorance/obnoxiousness that you would like to make them wear their own ass as a hat.

That’s the only site that was any real help, but it still doesn’t tell me what I need to know. Not really. So I am left to wonder about asshats and who invented them, and if I give a rat’s ass…hat.

The Way-Back Machine

Have you forgotten what the web looked like in 1996, or 2000? Click here to visit the Wayback Machine. Submit your URL and see the changes your site has gone through.

I still haven’t been to bed. I drove Joel to the airport (over an hour one way) at 4:30 this morning and I’m tanked on coffee. Guess I’ll work until sleep comes to claim me.