archived notes for Jan. 2000

01.30.00 - It turns out that that quote was from the Coffin Texts.

"Bast the daughter of Tem, the first-born daughter of the Lord of All, She is your protection until day dawns, until you go down to the realm of the dead."

01.29.00 - I intensely dislike archiving.

It's boring.

Ah well.

I did nothing really super useful today except archiving and writing letters. I did get in touch with Jason again, which is a good thing as I've missed him in the last year or so. I stopped being Rowan and he went back to school, and somewhere we floated apart. But I never completely lose good friends. I just gotta remember to call them every now and then.

Back to archiving. It's easier now that I have HomeSite 4.0, but it still took me six hours. However, it's one of those things I hate that needs to be done; one of the topics hadn't been archived since 1998. (ahem) That's how busy I've been!

(Or how good I am at avoiding doing the archives....)

The Stephcam will be coming soon, I hope. And I bought bellydance fitness tapes. I want to try something. I want to see if I excercise to something I'm actually interested in -- and getting rhythm is something I've always been interested in -- and see if I can maintain the routine that way. If it doesn't work -- well, then it doesn't work. If it does, I can stop feeling guilty about my gym membership.

My new website, co-shared between about eight of us at work. Hee hee hee! Nothing there just yet. It'll be waiting till Andy comes back from Andyland.

Donna's recent Urbana Diary entry is killer humor, but then that's Donna's job. Me, I'm contemplating why I haven't written a Vent in a while. I think I want to get some fiction writing done for now, and I'll go back to the essays again sometime soon.

Listening at home to my CD collection at work as beamed back to me by MP3.com -- ahhhh, the wonders of cable modems. I'm still incredibly impressed by the Princess Mononoke soundtrack, and I'm coming to appreciate more the Fight Club soundtrack. Makes me almost want to go out and buy a Dust Brothers album.

Today's thought, no doubt from my Akh Mimi (Lotte): "There's always one more thing to say."

01.28.00 - It's a sad fact of my life that I am cursed with an inability to buy .com sites. Of the four domain sites I've registered in the last two years, every damned one has either been a .org or a .net.

At any rate, this page and Vent are going to be moving to a site better suited to them sometime in the next couple of months. They're not going away, they're just getting shifted elsewhere. Per-Bast.org will remain, of course, and the other sections -- my Akhu shrine, my aromatherapy pages -- will also stay, and I'll probably open up a religious essays page. I plan to orient this site closer to religious subjects rather than being my drop zone for anything that enters my pretty little head. I'll have a new site for that.

And I think that's good, actually, because at some point in the far fetched future I expect to see this become the site for the temple I'll someday raise. Until then, it will be a nice place for information and important texts.

Henri Frankfort mentions in his book Kingship and the Gods that Bast figures into one of the funerary texts as She Who protects the dead during the nighttime. I want to find the actual passage -- it's not in one of the standard texts, but it shouldn't be too hard for me to find. And it didn't surprise me. One of Her titles is Nebet-Ankh-Tawy, "Lady of the Life of the Two Lands", "Ankh-Tawy" being another name for (I believe?) Saqqara, the necropolis.

My head hurts. I don't know why. I'm taking Advil. I want to go to bed.

Well, that's interesting. I just went to the DoubleClick opt-out page and found out that I had a cookie with them. Uh. Hm. I didn't even know I was being tracked by DoubleClick. On both browsers (IE and Netscape), to boot. Just a helpful tip, Dear Reader -- if you want to keep DoubleClick from following where you websurf and sending you spam based on the pages you view, go opt-out now.

I got overtime for New Years.

I'm gonna buy a webcam.

Muaahahahahahaah.

We always knew by his prized copies of George Romero flicks that Kai-Imakhu Craig has a thing for zombies, but I knew when he sent me this link that even he had been outclassed. I don't have a thing for zombies, by the way. If there's one undead I actually have a "thing" for it's probably vampires. I know, that's blase, but it wouldn't be blase if lots of people didn't like them.

My celebrity matchmaker test (click here if you prefer partners of the female persuasion) paired me up with Ricky Martin. I wanted Ben! BEN, DAMMIT!

Okay, 'nuff sugar for Steph.

01.26.00 - If you have an account at Outpost.com, you may want to consider deleting any sensitive information. Apparently the software that Outpost uses -- BroadVision -- isn't as secure as one would hope, or so says the "broadvision sucks" website.

Jeff just let me in on some pics from the new X-Men flick -- good God, what have they done? When did the X-Men become rejects from a Wachowski brothers film? And what's with the website? All that intro just to be told it's not up yet and please give us your email so we can let you in when we're done? What twisted bastard wrote TWO WHOLE MINUTES OF FLASH ANIMATION just to tell me THAT?

Midis and bad Flash. Jason Kottke or Lance Arthur -- can I please have your love child so that we can raise it to make GOOD websites instead of the godawful crap that some of these webdesign companies are shoveling off on us?

Bah. You know, I've been looking forward to a good X-Men adaption since I was fifteen and was trapped in helpless admiration of Kitty Pride and her amaaaazing phase abilities. Now it looks like I'm going to be waiting forever.

But I'll be nice. And wait. And not pass judgement. But it's just not looking good at this point. Even if Bryan Singer -- The Usual Suspects, Apt Pupil -- is the director. Let's face it, even Joel Schumacher managed to turn out The Lost Boys and St. Elmo's Fire before taking Batman and turning him into Stewart Smiley ("Why should I be dark? Why should I brood on my parents's death? Heck, it's the past! I love myself! Robin! Alicia! Group hug! C'mon!").

I will be patient.

I will wait.

Guh.

Nothing can fix this but a classic entry by Pamie! Bwahahahaah!

Okay. I gotta write a Vent sometime soon. Or write a novel. Or write something. I can't stand much more of this piddling little "lookatthislink!" stuff.

Tania's shipment of fish! Fish! FISH! arrived today. Tania! I kiss you! You are wonderful and you are from Alaska! Thank you thank you thank you!

01.25.00 - So here's the scenario -- your capo has just assigned you to walk into a hotel and take out Luigi "The Bambino" Falco. You need to buy a box of roses and a sawed-off, but you also have to drop your clothes off at the cleaners and you don't have time to go to the florist and the cleaners and get a heater from Jimmy the Fish down on Main Street.

That's where this website comes in!

Man, that first paragraph was a pain to write. Someone remind me never to become a mobster movie writer.

Back to that website -- okay, so they're toy guns. But there's just something about the combination of flora and armaments that toggled my funny bone when I saw it.

A friend pointed me to a new comic called "Get Fuzzy". Some of the strips aren't as funny as others, but it's pretty obvious that the author either is a Bast child, or has owned a cat and a couple dogs in his life. The catbrain does indeed work this way. Nice to see someone is picking up the creative torch that "Outland"/"Bloom County" and "Calvin and Hobbes" left burning.

And while I'm on the issue of "Calvin and Hobbes" -- I found an interesting article about Watterson, Breathed, and Larson. It's old, but it's good reading if you liked their strips. The idea that these people were earning in the range of $100k to $200k per week for cartoons makes me want to take up drawing again. I don't know that I could be that consistently funny every day, though.

Super Heff is praying for ten feet of snow and dreaming about Ben Affleck. I just hope that I get home before the white cold stuff piles up too high.

01.24.00 - Em hotep, Dear Reader.

Spent the weekend going to movies and watching videos and doing website stuff and answering IMs and not getting any writing done.

Maybe tomorrow.

My room is cleaner. Not tidier, but cleaner. My Akhu shrine is cleaned up, and I got some laundry done. Nothing is perfect yet, but I'm sure as soon as Donna dear announces when she's going to come visit me, I'll turn into a cleaning storm the likes of which no one in Mooville has yet to witness.

(And by the way, if you haven't read Donna's "Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Really Good Vodka", please do. I am Jack's Smirking Imakhu.)

Speaking of storms -- it snowed here. Lots of white, all over the ground and my car and my hair. We watched the end of Serial Experiment Lain, and now I'm trying to figure out if my guess is right and it's a study in hyper-cyberpunk and Buddhism, or just weird Japanese fiction. The peppering of American words and images threw me off track, but I think my first hunch might be right.

We went to an army surplus store. I'm not sure what I think of those places -- I'm sure some military folks go there, but I felt a little like I was standing around a bunch of rednecks who wanted to glorify war. I think...having grown up with a stepfather who was gone for months...having sat through Desert Shield -- and then Desert Storm -- hoping and praying with my mother and sister that his ship would not get involved...and then hoping and praying he'd be okay when it did...you get a different view on this sort of thing.

He got out okay. All my military friends who went got out okay. But...I was raised from the age of ten by a family that was on a military salary, I was born at Bethesda Naval, I went to military doctors as a girl, I've been on cruises on battleships that were the equivalent of floating cities, and I've walked up onto the deck of a hovercraft. And while I've never lived on a base (except when I was three and my Dad wasn't yet out of the Navy), I think I have a unique outlook on this sort of thing that makes me question people when they want to dress and act like military, but who'd wet their pants if they ever had to attend boot camp.

Not that I wouldn't consider getting involved in this Airsoft stuff Dave keeps talking about. That's like laser tag with bb's, and I think that's kind of fun. And I'm not in a hurry to join the military, nor do I think I'd want to. But military surplus stores give me the creeps.

That's what I'm trying to say. MILITARY SURPLUS STORES GIVE ME THE CREEPS.

Besides which, the place we went to didn't even have a GO NAVY! t-shirt. What kind of half-assed store do they think they are, no GO NAVY! t-shirts? Sheesh.

Okay, that's over with. Time for bed. Night kids!

01.22.00 - You're curious now, I bet.

Muahaahahaha.

I installed Corel9 today. That makes a grand total of five image editors on my machine at work. Corel, PhotoShop, PaintShop, Fireworks, and IconEdit. I would count Paint, but I only ever crack that one open if by some freakish chance my machine happens to use it to edit a bitmap. Blechy.

And this is nothing compared to an actual professional -- or my machine at home for that matter, which has a gazillion 3-D programs on it that I don't even know how to use. And still, the most useful one is the completely free PaintShop Pro, which I use for just about everything, though I am slowly (grudgingly) getting used to PhotoShop.

Saturdays and Sundays off. Wow.

Sorry, no major updates. I need to work on Kemet.org right now.

01.21.00 - Ever wanted to know what my keyboard at work looks like? Ever wanted to know what a yellow cockatiel looks like? Well guess what! You get to see BOTH!

[800x600 Version] [640x480 Version]

[800x600 Version] [640x480 Version]

01.20.00 - The upside of working dayshifts: I am once again amongst the living.

The downside of working dayshifts: I update my website a lot less.

We went to the really big food store place last night. I bought a five pound bag of cookies for work, and Jeff bought cute little valentine's cookies with cute little sugar heart sprinkles and cute little Utena-pink frosting.

They were actually pretty good.

I did three website designs for the boss; Dave and I are designing some things for The Company, and we're going to run them past our superiors tomorrow to see what they think of them. I spent half of today in meetings, and the other half fiddling with HTML. I looked up at the clock and realized suddenly that it was quitting time. I didn't even notice the day had gone by.

I feel like a worker again.

I'm still adjusting to this whole shift thing. So until then, Dear Reader, please forgive my sporadic posting. My throat, by and by, still hurts, and now I have a wisdom tooth acting up, but on the whole I'm feeling much better.

If you want some reading, check out Kemet.org as we recently added a Wehem, updated the clergy list, and revamped the "What is Kemetic Orthodoxy?" essay (which is where most of my free time this week went).

01.17.00 - Greetings, Dear Reader. I have returned.

My apologies for the abrupt departure. Things get hectic in the wee hours just before I hie off to points unknown, and I didn't have a chance to update between being sick, packing, taking care of my house and email, and wrapping up a bit of work.

I arrived at the train for Chicago a minute before it was to depart -- talk about cutting it close. I read most of Angela's Ashes during the ride up and down. I still have forty pages to go. It's alternately frustrating/depressing and very funny. It either makes me sad that people have to live in this state of poverty, or makes me want to fry up bread and drink strong tea out of jam jars.

This weekend was a priest's retreat -- that's why I was in Chicago. Donna is now an Imakhu, a position she's been working toward very hard for a while now, and I'm quite proud of her. She's grown a lot since that drive out from New Jersey. She is a great asset to the House and the faith.

I also accepted becoming a Fanbearer-in-training. I will be honest -- while I am honored by the position, I really really really didn't expect it. There's a succinct list in my head of things I want to do as a priest, but Fanbearer didn't enter into it until I was asked. It's not because I didn't want to, but it didn't occur to me. Teacher, yes. Listener, yes. Hemt-Bast -- hai, hai, hai.

Fanbearer? Me? Um, you're talking about me, right?

Yes, you, Imakhu.

Uh -- erm -- okay!

I'm making light of this, probably because I'm just Fanbearer-to-be at this point and I still can make light of this. I didn't plan on it; I'm still dealing with that. For the unenlightened, a Fanbearer is something like a personal protector of the Nisut (AUS). There's only one right now, kai-Imakhu Nakht, and he did ask me before he left for South Africa to take over for him if something untimely should happen. I was startled by the request then -- I didn't think there would be a follow-through to it, but there is, and it's backed by the requests of Netjer on top of it, and so here I am, and I have more to think about now.

Things like: Jeez, I guess this means I actually gotta use that gym subscription now, neh?

Did I mention I'm very proud of Donna? I'm also proud of her husband, kai-Imakhu Craig, for reasons he knows.

But I'm additionally proud of Donna for plunking down the $130 to buy the Fushigi Yûgi DVDs. That show KICKS ASS. A fine example of shojo (girl's) animé -- sappy romance, super-deformed humor, drama, magic, and very likeable characters. After some thought, I'd say my favorite is Chi-Chiri, the fox-faced monk who Donna says reminds her of me. I'm not sure what she means, no da?

Okay, I need to go to bed. I have to get up early and go to the doc and then I need to go to work and talk about websites and convince people I can actually build websites. Did I mention I'm on dayshift now? And that means I have a semi-normal life. A schedule. Room to breathe. And that means I actually can use that gym membership and -- say, don't you think that's REALLY FRICKING CONVENIENT THAT THINGS SHOULD FALL INTO PLACE THIS WAY?

Yeah, I knew you would.

Bed.

01.11.00 - Here's something you may already know:

Main Entry: ³mono
Function: noun
Date: 1962
: INFECTIOUS MONONUCLEOSIS

"Most individuals exposed to people with infectious mononucleosis have previously been infected with EBV and are not at risk of developing infectious mononucleosis. In addition, transmission of EBV requires contact with the saliva (found in the mouth) of an infected person. Transmission of this virus through the air or blood does not normally occur. The incubation period, or the time from infection to appearance of symptoms, ranges from 4 to 6 weeks. Thus persons with infectious mononucleosis may be able to spread the infection to others for a period of time. However, no special precautions or isolation procedures are recommended since the virus is also found frequently in the saliva of healthy people. In fact, many healthy people can carry and spread the virus intermittently for life. These people are usually the primary reservoir for person-to-person transmission. For this reason, transmission of the virus is almost impossible to prevent."

01.10.00 - Well....

It's not tonsilitis or strep. It could be related to my cold and be just that, but to make sure they took some of my blood (two vials!) and scraped my throat (owie!) and told me they'd call sometime in the afternoon.

I took most-of-today off at work. I'll go in around 11 pm and finish out the shift, but I decided to rest today.

My doctor -- Dr. Binz -- looks like Garfield. Not that he's overweight and came in with a teddy bear while chomping on lasagne, but he's gone those droopy eyes like any moment he's going to curl up in a box and go to sleep. He was very polite and nice and wanted to know about me and how I was feeling, which I think is good in a doctor. Um, yeah.

And then at the end he adds, "By the way, I do gynelogical exams."

And of course the first thing that popped into my head was, Is this some kind of weird pick up line?

But I told him I was looking for a female gynecologist, to which he responded that I was unlikely to find one in St. Louis. So anyway, I may consider him as he treated me like a person rather than a piece of meat. Apparently, my last gynecologist had a divorce and hasn't been the same since. It shows.

Afterwards, I came home and watched some of Scorsese's Kundun. It's funny how many of the actors who are supposed to be playing His Holiness the Dalai Lama are actually named after him in real life (Tenzin). I actually have had a vague plan for a while now to name my daughter (if I have one) Tamara. It's a pretty name, don't you think? We have a name planned out for a son -- Marcus Vincent -- and either way, the child will receive a Kemetic name when the time is appropriate. I hope the boy is a Bast child. Marcus Vincent sa-Bast sounds so neat.

Anyway, I realized halfway through watching the movie that I wasn't entirely clean, and so I retired to my bathroom and filled it up with linden flower suds, and soaked while reading.

That's been my morning.

By the way -- the cost for all this? $129. Yikes. I paid a $10 co-fee. Dua-Netjer for health insurance.

I think I'm going to nap now and listen for the phone. I'll post if it's anything serious, though at this point I'm not expecting to find out that I have much more than an exceptionally unusual sore throat. The only other possibility I know of is mono, but I haven't been smooching anyone with mono to my knowledge, so it's unlikely.

The cat sits next to my chair, curled up amidst scattered papers, with her head resting on her chest and her eyes squinched shut. Sun slants down through the blinds upon her, and she is at rest. Miwt-ra-sherit-i. My little sun cat.

Time for me to join her. :)

01.08.00 - I swear when I wrote yesterday's Vent that I didn't know Pamie wrote a similar entry.

We're all sick, here in journalville.

I, however, have broken down to peer pressure and decided to go to a doctor. My sore throat is not your typical sore throat, and it's been with me since Sundayish-Tuesdayish, which makes it almost a week at this point. So on Monday, I go to the doc (assuming I can get an appointment).

Blech.

Hey, I forgot to mention. Jeff has actually started doing the journal thing, and Donna updated hers. That makes three journals -- hers, Dave's, and mine -- that all have stuff on Serial Experiment Lain. It must be the opening theme song.

I had a dream about George Clooney naked. I think every person attracted to the male gender should have this kind of dream. He was very nice about it, as I politely looked away and handed him a towel. And then, later on, Sean Connery showed up and told me what a nice ballgown I was wearing. Wasn't that sweet?

I must say, though -- George has a fine ass. And there's something about that black-silver hair of his.

My order from Tealuxe showed up; tea reviews to follow for what I got (which was a sampler of just about all the chais, one green, one Earl Grey, and some South African tea that was recommended to me by an English penpal) as soon as I brew up a cup. The spicy chai has so far been disappointing; it'll never match up to that first incredible cup I had at the Northern California Renaissance Faire. Those were interesting times, Dear Reader. Back when I still thought I was agnostic-pagan, and the Faire was still held at Black Forest in Marin County, before Marin decided to plow down the trees to make way for condos (the swine!). I may need hotter water for this brew; it looked to be a lot of hard roots rather than nice, supple leaves.

Gotta be up in eight hours to work. Must buy Ny-Quil. And so much to do. Weeyah.

But before I do that, check out the new layout for this page that I'm playing with. By the way, I think Dave is really losing it. Not only is his GM character in DR a lizard, not only does he own three, but now he's started playing the lizard man in SoulCalibur. I'm worried about him. Especially since I play Taki, the demon hunter, and, well -- doesn't that just look demonic to you? Hmmmm?

01.07.00 - Nothing new. Still sick. Watched Serial Experiment Lain. Hm. Definitely not conclusive. Must wait for Dave to get next video. Bwahaahahaha.

Bought too many essential oils. Again. But I have a $40 check still to deposit and 22 hours of overtime not yet paid to me, so it's not as bad as it sounds. I want the CD "The Ride of a Thousand Camels" by BOA. Japanese band. Import. $29.95 at AnimeNation. No one else seems to have it. But man -- I heard just one song, and I knew I had to hear the rest. Here's a sample:

And you don't seem to understand
A shame you seemed an honest man
And all the fears you hold so dear
Will turn to whisper in your ear

And you know what they say would hurt you
And you know that it means so much
And you don't even feel a thing

01.05.00 - So....

I watched a movie called Cleopatra Jones this evening. It was a 70s film, with dated dialogue, a seriously weird plot, strange clothing, and badly choreographed fight scenes with horribly fake blood that you see only in really old movies. It starred Tamara Dobson as Cleopatra Jones, a cat-eyed gun-carrying drug-busting government agent with just as many weapons as she had changes of clothing.

And despite myself -- I kind of liked it.

Here's this chick in racy costumes -- this was not clothing, this was costuming -- out-driving, out-gunning, and out-smarting everyone she came across. She never breaks down. She never screams for help. She's cool, daddy-o.

I liked that.

Okay, so it was cheezy. And yes, it was a blaxploitation film. But it wasn't bad. Our cat Cleo drove a corvette with magcap wheels on it, and a license plate that said -- what else? -- CLEO. Her warddrobe was outrageous but then, this was the 70s, and I think that was just the thing they did back then.

"So what do you think of this?"
"Hmm. It needs more fuschia."
"And sequins!"
"Oh -- oh! And don't forget the pheasant feathers!"

By the time they were done, you had a warddrobe you could signal ships with. Not that the 80s were any better. Neon hairbows, anyone?

Anyway, I now have something to compare against the parody of this movie that was featured in Kentucky Fried Movie, which is kind of like a highly irreverant and vulgar Elephant Parts.

(Sing it with me everyone! "Lisa and Ramona -- Sunset Sam!")

Anyway, that's how my night was spent. Watching a weird, cheezy action film. And reading John Mbiti's book on African Religion. Now there's a contrast for you.

I have catonlapitis. That's when Amber climbs on you and doesn't get off, even when her tail is in your face and you're gasping for breath. The cold medicine is kicking in, and if you want to blame my horrid taste in movies, you may do so by pointing to the Sudafed. (To quote Donna's not updated-often-enough site -- "The jig is up Miss Himemeiya!")

Guh! I accidentally erased yesterday's posting. Doh! I'll replace it when I find the backup.

01.04.00 - Hack, cough, hack hack. The sickness rages on, and now all of Mooville seems to be infected. Dave's sick, Jeff's sick, and I'm sick. And that's really all that matters.

I filled in for Dave today, but by seven I was wishing I hadn't. Sudafed just doesn't work for me. I was the StephZombie, mindlessly staring off at the walls of her cubicle while typing away at her keyboard, gnawing on an asiago roasted brains sandwich from the bread company. I wanted to go home, curl up on my couch, and drink tea. I just don't feel good.

The cat has found a new hiding place. It's under the table that used to have videos stashed under it. It's the perfect hidey place for a kitty -- dark and kinda closed in, the way they like it, but it's a bit of a start when you're not used to seeing her there. You'll walk out into the living room -- and I use the word "walk" very loosely as the living room is now a wasteland of packaging, suitcases, and the throw-offs of two people with colds who don't have the energy to clean -- and see the hungry gleam of eyes from under the table, and you'll shriek, "Eek! Eek! A grue!" and then you'll realize...oh, it's just Amber.

Or, rather, you will if you're me.

There's a weird thing on my eye, but I think it's going away. If it doesn't, I have to go to a doctor, because if there's one thing I really won't live with, it's going blind. So that makes three doctors I have to go see now. And I have a cold. And my legs are all banged up from having fallen down some marble stairs at the Getty. Let's face it, I think the warranty on this body just ran out.

Amazing, the varied reactions I get when I ask my fellow sickies what they want from the store. Jeff wanted chicken soup. Dave wanted me to pick him up a six pack of lungs. I want a six pack of moms. I don't think they sell them in Mooville, though.

This page will be getting cleaned up when I get a chance. I'll archive everything into 1999, and everyone will be happy. Yeah.

01.03.00 - So it's day five of my injuries, and my lower shin scab is starting to itch. Sorry to disgust you, Dear Reader, but I must keep track of this. In a way, I'm happy I scratched myself up. I have a character that is injured in a similar fashion, and I needed a window of healing time for her so I could make things realistic. Well, now I have one.

Yes, kids, you too can be a writer. Suffer humiliating, horrifying, painful experiences...and write about them!

Bills are in. Blech. I hate paying bills. It's such a pain. Kind of like twelve hour shifts. TWELVE HOURS. (whimper)

I thought I was getting tomorrow off, but I'm not, because Dave is now sick, and so I'm going to work for him, because I'm such a nice person. Did I mention I'm nice? I really am, you know. I am so nice.

You can drop lavender neat onto a broken scab and it won't hurt. I know this from experience.

Sore throat. Slightly stuffy nose. Twelve-hour shift. Blech. At least this means I get the 4th - 7th off, which means I get to clean my house. I can't stand it right now. It's so damned dirty. Guh.

I'm going to ditch the jar in the middle of my new page and go for blocks that light up when you flip over a word. You'll see.

01.02.00 - It's a sick world when Pokémon grosses over $80 million dollars in America, and Princess Mononoke barely scrapes by with $3 million.

Ah well.

Today at Per-bast.org: My gift roundup is discussed. A baby seal clubs a spotted owl to death. Somewhere, plum ice cream is being made.

Band names pour vous:
Champagne Popsicle
Via Con Carne (or Via Con Queso if you're a vegetarian)

And just in case any of you thought I was getting lazy, a peak at my new high-end entry page, to go in at some point when I can whip up the oomph to do it.

01.01.00^TM - So it's another day, and another year, as most of us thought it would. Somewhere out there, a doomsday group is turning blue from holding their breath. Isn't that nice?

I wrote a couple Y2K features myself, it turns out, which is rather ironic as I was one of the first ones to realize we had a big problem with our dating procedures in the games about a year ago. But did I think of that when I wrote my contacts page notice that tested the date against a mmddyy format? Oh no, not me.

I think I've fixed most of them, but if you happen to see a time-based notice on one of my sites that is dated for December or earlier (like the out-of-town note on my contacts page), please tell me so I can go fix it.

More later. Have to get to work now.