• A change is as good as a rest.

    That’s right, I made a change today. Technically I made several changes, but only one… okay, only two of them are very noticeable.

    One, links are no longer boldfaced serif but instead sans-serif and, ah, green.

    Two, the date markers that delineate journal entries by, ah, date… they are larger.

    If you would like to suggest largerness, smallerness, darker- or lighter-greenness, or a specific hex value for the greenness, you are welcome to. And I’m welcome to ignore any and all suggestions, of course. But you never know, do you? Do you?

    (Update: Three. Three noticeable changes. Our main weapons are fear, surprise, an almost fanatical devotion to the Pope… oh wait. Nevermind that. Anyway, I also tweaked the journal entry titles a bit to make them stand out better. I like the way this page looks now. Hot damn.)

  • Now, Jon Stewart

    Thanks to Wendi for this great transcript of a Bill Moyers interview with the guy whose name is in the title of The Daily Show With Jon Stewart.
    Bill Moyers: Jon Stewart

  • Beating The Heat – One Solution

    Mari and I were chatting briefly yesterday, and several facts presented themselves:

    • It’s damned hot outside.
    • It’s really damned hot outside.
    • It’s pretty damned hot at home, too.
    • Malls have air-conditioning.

    Based on these carefully collated facts, we decided to get together and dodge the evening heat by wandering around Lloyd Mall for a few hours.

    The plan was a resounding success. We grabbed a bite at the food court, though that was trickier than it sounds. You see, nobody had a salad for Mari. Aww. She ended up with a Subway sandwich, which was close enough to “dietarily acceptable” for her needs.

    Me, I chowed down on some Arby’s yumminess. I’m not on a diet, you see. (Okay, so I should be. Ah well.)

    After our fine dining experience, complete with gazing down on tiny ice princesses, we wandered up and down the mall concourse a few times. I was dragged bodily into a few clothing stores, and took the opportunity to mock various apparel selections. Mercilessly, I tell you.

    Closing time arrived, and we decided to head back through Meier & Frank since right outside their door is where the car was parked. But no! We couldn’t actually leave via the door provided! And then when we tried to re-enter the mall concourse, they were closing those doors as well! What the hell was up with that, eh?

    Ah well. It was still too damned hot out, so we drove down to the Hawthorne Freddy’s to kill just a bit more time. Mari picked up a pair of dumbbells. No, really, the kind you exercise with. (She already had my company so it’s not like she needed another of that kind of dumbbell.) We looked at “natural” foods, during which time I was mildly creeped out by seeing Paul Newman As “American Gothic Guy” on a bunch of foodstuffs packages. Creepy, I tell you.

    Eventually we got bored and tired, so we packed it in for the night. By that time (10-ish) it was dark and quite comfortable outside, so our mission was a complete success!

    Don’t you wish you’d been as smart as us, yesterday? Yeah, you know you do.

  • Vanna, pick me four letters.

    Wendi pointed me towards this little test, which says I’m one of these. Oddly enough I think they’ve got a pretty good handle on me. Scary.

    Oh, Wendi’s one of these, in case you’re wondering. I think it’s a less-accurate assessment than mine, but it still has some validity.

    What, you wanted eloquence for a Surveys posting at 12:30 in the morning after I’ve just rebooted the server because it had a modem hiccup it couldn’t recover gracefully from? Really now…

  • Finalist, Most Unfortunate Name Ever

    Chatting with Annessa today, and she points me in the direction of a museum local to herself.

    The Cummer Museum.

    Snark amongst yourselves. I’ll be over here, biting my tongue.

  • Take This Heat And Shove It

    We’re now solidly in the midst of what is arguably the worst time of year in the fair City of Roses.

    Yes, it’s “the hot season,” when daytime temperatures sit patiently between 80-F and 95-F, when the air doesn’t move enough to mean anything, and when the room I now inhabit receives all kinds of direct sunlight since it faces almost due south.

    Bleah. I hate hot weather. A large part of the reason I love this town so much is that we really only get a few short months of heat before returning to the nice gray drizzly weather I’m so much more comfortable with.

    You can’t do anything in this heat. You don’t want to read, you don’t want to do chores, you don’t want to cuddle up with somebody, you just want to find some ice cream and wait for midnight when the air outside has cooled down some.

    Bleah, I say.