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Pix from the other night.

Bands playing include Woven, The Like Young, & Dealership.

A trully fantastic event.

I’m having issues with bloglines and blogroll.

A) bloglines only gets RSS feeds for about half the blogs I read.
It’s kind of cool to get news feeds for key search terms like DVR, and Justin Timberlake. It’s not cool that I can’t read blogs hosted on Xanga, Blogger, etc. on there.

B) My blogroll, when launched as my side linksbar when I’m reading blogs from IE (not as published on my site) works well only have the time. It’ll either open just fine with the link in the primary window or open up the page inside of the mini window. The Address on the top is nary consistant or correct on this.

Any ideas on corrections or am I just spooged for being an internet junkie?

Yo,

I’m looking for 2-4 Tix for Death Cab for Cutie at the Fillmore on Nov 17th.
Any leads?

I occasionally have dreams where I’m in water.
In no way shape or form was I inspired for these dreams by looking over Magician/Healer’s shoulder as he qc’ed the code on his new skins while in my room over the weekend.

In last night’s dream, I found myself sinking slowly in spite of the extraordinary density and viscosity of the liquid that I was in. I should have been lighter overall and floated upwards but instead, I sank. The sticky goo, clear and slightly opalescent blue smeared over my eyes until they changed colors. I could see myself with pearly blue eyes and thought to myself “Wow, freaky clubby cool kinda. Or like that one star trek episode… the pilot episode I think. Beep Beep.”

My contacts stayed intact apparently. Sliding into my ears, small bubbles popped as it squirmed deeper into the maze that leads into my brain. It oozed into my nose. Most unpleasant.

As I opened my mouth in one last ditch effort to scream for help, I found it tasted like champaign jello. With some effort I was able to mold a bubble around me of the stuff. I sank no further, nor did I float up to the surface. I decided to hum songs as I waited for some jello fish to float by and hopefully loft me upwards.

What on earth could this have meant?

Lit at the Canvas IV: Elsewhere: Stories from Far Away
Monday, October 27, 2003
7:00 PM – 8:30 PM

Canvas Cafe and Gallery
1200 9th Ave. @ Lincoln
San Francisco, California

(From the Evite received:)

Lit at the Canvas, a monthly, themed literary series hosted by Kevin Smokler splashes down again at the Canvas Cafe this coming Monday at 7:00 PM. This month’s theme, “Elsewhere: Stories from Far Away” will be about the places we go, real and imagined, and usually meet up with ourselves or someone that looks like ourselves that we don’t recognize. Also some plain old great travel writing.

Reading will be:

Jeff Greenwald (Mr. Travel Writing. Author of 5 books, most recently “Scratching the Surface”).

Anhoni Patel (author of a forthcoming novel “All Good Things Die in L.A)

Poet and travel writer Linda Watanabe McFerrin

Horehound Stillpoint, a horny, happy, sensitive, bike-riding, rock ‘n’ roll freak, who also writes poems and short stories.

We might be reading from Craigslist Ads as well because it’s such a hit last time. We’re also going to try to give away a free book or two.

The Canvas has another show going up at 8:30 so it’s going to be a short evening. Short and very very sweet.

Admission is 5$ sliding scale. No one turned away for lack of funds.

Should be more exciting than a dancing manatee. See you there!

Looks like Friendster is hitting critical mass and sinking fast.

My pal James H has developed yet another alternative (cuz Friendfinder, Tribe.net, and Myspace , and Emode’s Tickle Network weren’t sufficient).

Yafro.

I wonder if Yafro stands for Yet Another Friendsterlike Ridiculous Obsession. I guess from the FAQ Yafro is a stream in Central Africa.

Click to add me.

Corona hangovers are not too terribly bad.

Silly but fun.

No big woop.

This has nothing to do with you, nor you, nor even you.
This is about me.

I am in much consideration of personal growth and kindness.
I’m recognizing the frailty and ephemeral nature of emotional connection and simple, honest generosity in spirit. That which is guileless and true. I’m actively washing away old memories which are tainted or corrupted with new ones which are full if light and laughter.

Mayhaps you consider it denial or refusal to admit certain truths which are painful. You may be right. But I’ve come to realize more and more that life is too short to harbor hostility or harm.

To you, I offer my heart in all it’s weakness and smallness.
To you I wish my hand to be held in a tenderness of receptivity.
To you I hope that we can smile upon each other and recognize that life, which is already too short, needs to be poured over with forgiveness, and kindness than with the tendency to hold on to regret.

I offer my apologies if I have caused you anything other than joy. It was not my intention. I am human and stubborn and prone to fault. I can do nothing more than offer up my hope that you will not hold any shame of this against me.

To you I open a window. Should it come, let the rain come and make my floors wet. The better to have you know that the window is always there. Open. The sun shall come shortly to warm my home and heart. I hope you shall feel welcome. I will try my best.

Cookies and tea will be waiting.

I am here. You are sitting next to me.
I look ahead and I feel you looking at me.
I refuse to turn my head. I can only guess the expression and intentions on your face. I feel your hand reach behind my head to pull at the stray hairs at my neck that have escaped my ponytail. Your fingers play for a moment in that dip between skull and nape, and the back of your hand brushes against my ear. I am happy and everything is good.

We are clean again. No bruises. No marks. No residue to stain our thoughts from each other. I can feel you smiling at me but I still don’t look. You start laughing because you know you’ve made me blush.

…

Sometimes, I have quite nice dreams.

The muse of the Kissing Bandit is most certainly Mae West

Let’s forget about the six feet and talk about the seven inches. (on being told that a new male acquaintance was 6′7″)

Is that a gun in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?
And my personal favorite:

When I’m good, I’m good. When I’m bad, I’m better.

Like her “Je Ne Suis Pas un Ange” I am no angel.

I ain’t such a bad broad either.

” I shouldn’t tell you this…”
“No, go ahead and tell me.”
“MJ…”
“Yeah?”
“MJ…”
“Yeah!?”
“MJ, I love you.”
“Pbbbbbbbbbthhhhhhhh HA HAA HA HAHA”

*******
As an afterthought, even though I know the statement was made in jest, I do appreciate such little acts of kindness and affection.

Last night Ms. Yodelay-hee-hoo passed away.

While not my favorite person, she was someone that I passed by every day, endured her chats and vocality while I was on conference calls, and passed in the bathroom as she preened herself. I think I rolled my eyes when she mentioned getting another boob job. (She was already her own flotation device and could have saved Leonardo DiCaprio if he had latched himself to one of her breasts). She was my age and we started at this company at the same time with our new employee orientation together.

…
Today’s Thunk.
It’s important to recognize that everyone, everyone, everyone who crosses your path is a child of God. Life is a blessing. Always. And should never be taken for granted. And if a little kindness to a stranger, friend, coworker, family member, ex, etc. can be expressed today, then don’t hesitate.

Do not hesitate to recognize the person before you as being someone worthy of basic human respect and has a life that has the potential for great love.

Jeremy wrote it better a long time ago, but I can’t find it to link to today. Beg Pardon.

Be good out there today, kids.

I have a gay magician/healer in my room.

And he’s going to watch over me sleeping. (as he clears up some CSS stuff in his portfolio that has to be viewed on a pc)

Hopefully if I have demons invading my dream, he’ll toss a packet of birdseed on their heads for me. “Dispell Evil Dream Demon of the Portal of Fire!”

Wee. It’s good to have fun friendly slumberparties after playing dressup all weekend. Hazah!

I’m not always a good person. Not a bad person, not malicious or vindictive in behavior and though sometimes I have mean plotting thoughts, I’ve never acted on them. Thinking mean things when you’re hurt or angry, that’s human.Acting on them, for the most part, hollow and unrewarding and well… crazy. It takes loads to get on my bad side. For the most part, I do the avoidance-of-drama dance. It’s just too exhausting otherwise and hey, by nature, I’ve already confessed to being more lazy and stingy with my emotional bandwidth than wasteful or careless with it. I’d like to put my emotional bandwidth towards goodness than bad. It’s so easy and such a copout to be petty and immature. I’d like to believe I’m capable of being above that. Not perfect, but a work in progress and getting there.

And being Catholic, I’m too guilt prone to do anything actually bad or malicious to someone. I just let things get under my skin on it, and then duck away long enough so that the antsyness to smack someone over the head goes away.

When it comes to karma, negative thoughts and actions I consider as really painful and penalty prone withdrawals from my good Karma bank. And knowing how wacked out crazy things happen to me on a regular basis, I’m more prone to deposit coins in the Karma bank than withdraw. You never know when a weird situation will wind up taking you for a haul and that good karma balance wil come into play.

Ya know, weird things like ..being 3.5 hours overseas in a plane from paris to the US when 9/11 happens, being out of cash, and returned to France, not knowing anyone there, having all the hotel rooms being full, utterly stranded without a friend or soul in site, and not being able to speak the language. And then, by grace of God, being taken in to stay for 9 days with nuns. At a convent. With internet access. If that ain’t a karmic payback of good will when you need, it, then gracious I don’t know what is. And yes, that’s a true story.

Like I’m in a crappy mood, I’ll do something nice for another. Lousy day? Hand out an energy bar to a homeless person. Feeling mopey? Call to cheer up another friend. I’m like that and it usually turns things around for me.

Ya know ms yodelay-hee-hoo? She decided to quit last week and was planning on moving to nyc. Today’s she’s in the hospital. Apparently they’re trying to reach her parents as it looks like a life or death situation. From a work productive perspective, even without the yodeling, she’s not particularly missed. But I *never* wished her ill. I just don’t do that. I don’t wish anyone dead or “never-been-born”. Occasionally, I’ll quip that their life force and carbon mass should be better allocated by the deities that be as a tree instead of a human to irritate me, but no, I never wish anyone any worse than that, and even that transformative wish is usually fleeting.

Karma’s a weird thing when it catches up with you.
Be nice to someone today.