A Site of Beef by Ann-S-Thesia
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10/29/2000 - 11/04/2000
11/05/2000 - 11/11/2000
11/12/2000 - 11/18/2000
11/19/2000 - 11/25/2000
11/26/2000 - 12/02/2000
12/03/2000 - 12/09/2000
12/10/2000 - 12/16/2000
12/17/2000 - 12/23/2000
12/24/2000 - 12/30/2000
12/31/2000 - 01/06/2001
01/07/2001 - 01/13/2001
01/14/2001 - 01/20/2001
01/21/2001 - 01/27/2001
01/28/2001 - 02/03/2001
02/04/2001 - 02/10/2001
02/11/2001 - 02/17/2001
02/18/2001 - 02/24/2001
02/25/2001 - 03/03/2001
03/04/2001 - 03/10/2001
03/11/2001 - 03/17/2001
03/18/2001 - 03/24/2001
03/25/2001 - 03/31/2001
04/01/2001 - 04/07/2001
04/08/2001 - 04/14/2001
04/15/2001 - 04/21/2001
04/22/2001 - 04/28/2001
04/29/2001 - 05/05/2001
05/06/2001 - 05/12/2001
05/13/2001 - 05/19/2001
05/20/2001 - 05/26/2001
05/27/2001 - 06/02/2001
06/03/2001 - 06/09/2001
06/10/2001 - 06/16/2001
06/17/2001 - 06/23/2001
06/24/2001 - 06/30/2001
07/01/2001 - 07/07/2001
07/08/2001 - 07/14/2001
07/15/2001 - 07/21/2001
07/22/2001 - 07/28/2001
07/29/2001 - 08/04/2001
08/05/2001 - 08/11/2001
08/12/2001 - 08/18/2001
08/19/2001 - 08/25/2001
08/26/2001 - 09/01/2001
09/02/2001 - 09/08/2001
09/09/2001 - 09/15/2001
09/16/2001 - 09/22/2001
09/23/2001 - 09/29/2001
09/30/2001 - 10/06/2001
10/14/2001 - 10/20/2001
10/21/2001 - 10/27/2001
10/28/2001 - 11/03/2001
11/04/2001 - 11/10/2001
11/11/2001 - 11/17/2001
11/18/2001 - 11/24/2001
11/25/2001 - 12/01/2001
12/02/2001 - 12/08/2001
12/09/2001 - 12/15/2001
12/16/2001 - 12/22/2001
Saturday, January 27, 2001
In one dream I was not myself. I was all alone too, not with a usual dream companion. I think I was a man, like a bum or outlaw or something. I was travelling at night in one of Stan's former old cars, the '65 Chevy Bel Aire that we nicknamed "The S.S. Scurvy." I was driving it at night, which is another reason why I don't think I was myself because I can't drive well at night. I think I was in Minneapolis. I've only been there once, so I don't know why I think I was there, but I was. I was looking for a place to stay the night. I remember finding some sort of lake or river on the edge of town around dawn, and I don't know why I didn't just sleep in the car. I found this other place like a homeless shelter, but all the beds were full. There were some blankets available, so I was thinking of just sleeping on the floor between some of the other beds. Then in the next part of the dream I was myself, and I was with Stan and we were at Tim's parent's house. It was very confusing (IRL Tim's dad just had a stroke or heart attack or something :-( ) and there were all these relatives of his there. I was trying to get ready to go someplace, take a shower and all. Tim and Stan went out someplace and I was all alone with just his older brother in the house who I've never met and I needed to use a blow dryer to dry my hair. I went into the bathroom to get one, but I noticed that Tim's brother was still using that room to shower and to get ready, even though he wasn't in the bathroom at the present moment, so I just left the blow dryer there. Can't remember what eventually happened....I think I finally found Stan and Tim and got mad at Stan for leaving me alone.
Friday, January 26, 2001
The Muffin Top House. That's what I'm going to call it, that strange, supernatural, first story dormered relocated house from my posts of January 3, 5 and 19. The name "stems" (foreshadowed pun) from the Seinfeld episode when Elaine is talking about how muffin tops are better than the stumps, sort of like mushrooms, I guess. The person she told it to opens up a bakery that only sells the muffin tops, but not even soup kitchens will take the stumps, so Kramer ends up hauling a bunch of muffin stumps to the city dump on his "Real Petermann" bus tour. I guess you would have had to have seen it. It was uproarious. Anyway, getting back to the little house. It is now at its new location, piled atop at least a story's worth of railroad ties. I was going to take a picture of it today, but there were workers in front, so I didn't think it would be polite to shoot them. With a camera. It appears that they will be constructing a first floor for it, so eventually it may not look weird at all as the dormers would seem commonplace on the second story. Stan and I were hypothesizing about the origins of the house, and we thought either A) It was just built by a person with non-conventional taste in architecture, or B) The house really was the second story part of a house, and some misfortune befell the first story or "stump," like major flood damage from the banks of an overflowing Lake Monona or surrounding tributaries, rendering the first floor unusable but leaving a perfectly, non-damaged upper story, that was then "popped" off like Elaine's muffin tops and put to use elsewhere. This would also explain why it sat on a hill at the former location. Whoever decided to move the muffin top part of it, wanted to get away from anymore potential flood damage, so they placed it atop a hill, far from danger of that kind. I think that option B makes the most sense.
Dream...of Mice and Stupid Little Men: I was sitting on some ledge outside of a building somewhere and this young guy, maybe jr. high school aged was being really confrontational with me. It started out where he was teasing me, but escalated into violence. He was taking ahold of my arm and saying he could snap it really easily. I was trying to ignore him. Then I remember I had a cage with at least three little mice in it. They had pink ears like those little fake toy mice we give Caligula. One of them escaped through the top of the cage by chewing up the screen. I was trying to catch it by grabbing its tail, but I didn't want to hurt it and I didn't want it to bite me.
Thursday, January 25, 2001
Just for the heck of it, I'm going to get out of character and forget satirical social commentary or weird dream episodes or various internet kvetches and just be mundane boring consumer girl:
Bought a pair of black leggings the other day, size "large petite" or size 14-16 for under 5'4." I was swimming in them, especially around the gut. Waistband fit ok, but below the waist it was like a tent...not exactly the way leggings should fit. Glad to know I'm still a "medium petite" or size 10-12 for under 5'4." Probably could squeeze into a size small in leggings, size 6-8, but why bother. Remember girdles? I remember seeing them in my mom's drawers and wondering how one wore such a contraption. I could prolly squeeze into a 6-8 if I had a girdle, not that I'd want to.
Bought some gold nail polish. It's quite intense, not so much in color, as it's sort of a pale gold, but it sparkles intensely without using glitter (glitter is sooooo hard to remove from the nail). I think they're using large mica flake to make it shimmer.
Bought some new lip balm....new brand "Lip Naturals Herbal Lip Balm" and "LipRageous" made by "Ora Labs" in Englewood, CO. I love discovering new Lip Balm for my Balm museum.
Bought some hair color, and I mean color. Clairol makes a new product that comes in the original iMac-type colors (except Lime). So far have applied the orange and purple, but they're very subtle...not shocking as the product implies. Bought the blue and red last night. I apply it in solitary strands. Kinda cool....subtle, but cool. Can't believe it took 20 years after the underground Crazy Color came out for a commercial mass market product to come up with something similar. In 1982 I got a swatch of my short hair in back done in turquoise and hot pink. It was beautiful while it lasted, like some of those craft fur colors they came out with in the 70s. Damn, I wish I had a picture. Getting it done was a grueling experience because I hate hair salons, I hate talking to women who work on your hair and ask you questions you don't want to answer, and I swore after it all faded/washed out, I would not go back to get another application. I tried various methods like buying Crazy Color at Rudely Decadent in Denver, but the people who worked there most likely saved and hoarded all the good colors for themselves or their friends, so the only colors left over for us consumers was a sort of bland green. So I'd try various other things, like the dumb green color with red henna dye. Back in the early 80s there wasn't the variety of even "normal" hair colors as there is now, and the most shocking anyone could go would be a red henna from a drugstore. So I used the henna for a while on my bleached out spot. In early 1983 Stan and I were going out and I met an older relative of his who evidently told the whole clan that "Stan's girlfriend has ORANGE hair!" Ooooh...shocking. First of all, Stan's girlfriend had natural medium blonde hair with *one* splash of color around the nape of her neck. That's all. It wasn't like my whole head was ORANGE like some obsessed Broncos fan. But of course if I was an obsessed Broncos fan, that would be perfectly OK and acceptable, all in the name of sports and pride and Colorado team loyalty. Because I was a punk artist, the ORANGE hair was an overblown scandal in their family. "I hear your girlfriend has ORANGE hair!!!" Stan's (adopted) sister said to him before she ever met me, making a little pre-judgment call.
My, I have prattled on to the social commentary I didn't think I'd delve into in this post. Hard to totally get out of character.
I am getting cabin fever sooooo bad. I sure hope we can take a trip to Colorado this year. Want to swing by Rudely Decadent and see if it still exists.
Wednesday, January 24, 2001
I found this rather irrelevant yet amusing search request in my referrers: "DIdn't receive W2 from former employer" (their bad capitalization, not mine). I looked on the same Google search page that brought up mine and found an interesting article on the Wisconsin Works (W2) program: Don't Look to Wisconsin as a Model for Welfare Reform
Look out Health and Human Services! Here Comes Tommy!
Since he has left this fair state of ours, I've noticed when I've seen him on the telly that he's looked rather gaunt in the face. I wonder if it's the lack of cheese.
Too many funny Shrub links makes for a non-productive Ann. This one compares pictures of the new leader of the free world to chimp pics. Personally, I think the late George Burns wins the chimp contest hands down, however I've always maintained that there was something very simian about Dubya. OK, remember that "Heaven's Gate" cult that suicided in a big California mansion about 4-5 years ago? Remember the cult's leader? And remember Alien, er, Elian Gonzales? Look closely...they all look like different ages and stages of The Shrub. Weird.
I had this dream last night that Stan and I were either getting ready to take a trip somewhere or just getting ready to have dinner with Tim...don't know which. Stan was taking a long while to get ready...taking care of some house thing or something, and I was getting restless. Then it was like I was talking to some woman who I worked with (?) who looked like (weird description): A Goth Popstar 80's Country Western Singer, if you can imagine such an animal. She had dyed black hair (Goth), a tan (Pop) *like those two are harmonious!* with a black fringed jacket (CW) with puffy shoulders and sleeves (80s) with a hot pink top and black mini skirt (80s Pop). Siouxsie Sioux goes Las Vegas? Didn't look like Siouxsie...had much more of an "office girl" kinda quality. Gheeeesh. Anyway, somehow we were at my parent's house and we went into my former bedroom and closed the door to talk (I see a little of the 70s, or at least my life as an adolescent/teenager crept in there too.) Then I was hanging out at the Humanities Building, or a reasonable mutated dream-version facsimile thereof, on the UW Campus. There were these little high school boys there and I was old enough to be their mother, obviously, but they were making these lewd suggestive comments to me, in no uncertain terms telling me they want to **** me, but they only saw me from the rear and didn't see how old I actually was and I was about to turn around and tell them I was old enough to be their mom and to **** off, but somehow I got lost in the architecture of the building and was wandering around on various levels of the building and also ended up on a roof and didn't know how to get down.
Tuesday, January 23, 2001
BTW, does anyone else just feel like Clinton's on a looong vacation and Bush is like the substitute teacher you play pranks on? It's not that I necessarily want Clinton back or anything...it's just hard to get used to after eight years.
If Stan and I were rich and didn't have to work and could afford a trip to Ecuador, we'd go down to the Galapagos right now and help clean oil off of iguanas. Now this is a real tragedy affecting real animals.
First die with laughter while reading the dog soup story and then read the story on Joey Skaggs below. I love this guy! He is the "we" that Stan and I always wanted to be. One of our biggest pranks was creating a fake graduate Teaching Assistant candidate. Actually got an interview.
Blog Voices closed. Bummer. These things always happen as soon as I partake of them. Not that it was getting much use on my site anyway. I think people are afraid of me. Actually, I don't think that really, but some cyber people (not people I've known in person) have told me that people are afraid of me, and that I'm intimidating. Me, intimidating? Like I'm some whips 'n' chains black-leather-clad punkass six foot tall dominatrix? WTF? And it's not like *I* go around sending anonymous nastygrams to people's sites I don't like or that "offend" me. Me, intimidating? Because I have a wry sense of humor or because I'm not easily offended by harsher things, or because I don't like pweshush cutsie poo teddy bear bunny wunny angeley wangeley fairy schmerry stuff? (on kids sites it's fine..I'm not talking about a 5-year-old's site that a parent designed for their child, you know) Well, maybe that stuff offends ME. Maybe I should start petitions to close down sites that look like they were borne out of the breeding of Precious Moments and Hummell figurines. You see, I am using irony to stress a point in case you thought I was serious. Let's face it, petitions to close down sites that "offend" people weaken the cause of *all* petitions. Just leave, people, if you don't like it. If you have children, raise them to respect others and living things, yet to speak their minds, question authority and to not believe everything in print. Monitor their internet use and discuss content with them. If you start shutting down sites whose only offense is that YOU don't like the content, and yours might be next...you never now who YOUR site offends, for whatever reason.
Back to Blog Voices. The notice is that they were in violation of their terms at their host. I looked around at their host site and couldn't find any terms whatsoever. What a bum deal. I just hope it wasn't over a freedom of speech issue, that would make me truly sad. I hope that Chrish is able to find another way to work with this great idea, even though the Woody Allen inside of me kept telling me I was crazy to add it to my site in the first place. I will keep the blog voice "eye dare you" link up in my blog as long as it doesn't cause a 404. Edited to add: I removed the link at 4:30 pm due to a jscript error it started producing.
Be thankful for your right to free speech. Be thankful for the sites out there you don't like--because of them YOUR site also exists. "Oh, but my site doesn't have anything bad on it," you say. Oh, really? And who's the judge of that?
X-Files Dream: Special Guest Stars were in fact, Dana Scully, Fox Mulder (none of that Doggett [sp?] bozo) and Langley, my favorite Lone Gunman, even though he *does* play D&D (cough). Can't remember much of Scully (why dream about women when you can dream about men, right?) but I know she was in the dream, and it was like it was taking place at my grandmother's house. I remember Mulder was doing some strange voice, like a high-pitched cartoon voice. And then I remember descending into a creepy basement that looked soooo familiar like I've been there before but I don't know where "there" is. Maybe it was the basement of the Orpheum theatre here in town? There was a restroom, but it was sort of out in public and Langley was sitting on the john, relaxing, smoking a cigarette. I remember a long hallway, crooked floor, lots of red, yellow and white. Very odd. Seemed very familiar.
Found this weblog in my referrers this morning...what a nice glimpse into the months ahead with all the flowers...I found myself recognizing varieties... Zebrina... Dahlia... Gazania... Nasturtium...(mmm...nasturtium...ever eat one?). Plus that grey cat looks so much like our Persephone!
Monday, January 22, 2001
Do you ever feign insanity, but it's not really feigning because the things you say aren't made up, but true, honest emotions coming from the heart? But you express them nonetheless knowing that the person you express them to might just be a little taken aback? But you just want to express a side of yourself that they might not be aware of... because you feel so strongly about an issue that if they truly cared, they would take you, insanity, issue and all, and if they freaked out, the better for you and them. By the way, if you're reading this, it is not about you, I guarantee it. Just had to say that because you know how everyone reads everything on blogs directly as being about *them* when they're about someone who doesn't even give a **** about the internet.
Jeez, the last time I felt this way it was under a *completely different* situation. A good painting came out of it at that time..."Three Sensitive Fort Collins Men I Wish I'd Never Known." Heh. Now it's so completely different...it's not personal, it's political. I'm crying because of a political issue...a right to free speech and my wanting to defend it to a very old and close friend of mine. I guess what some bastard professor said to Stan once really is true..."It's ALL political." **t********r.
I just spent a dreadful past several hours. First of all, I couldn't find Caligula. I called him and he did not come. I thought my dream was somehow a foretelling of some disappearance. Was relieved to find out he had snuck into the unfinished bedroom downstairs when I was hanging up clothes and feeding the newts. Then the computer froze up...no big whoop...that's what happens when I work with a lot of programs at once on a 3-year old computer with only 128 megs of mem. Force quit, restarted, let Norton Utilities take care of some stuff, but then my computer's hard drive was inaccessible. This was bad enough, and fortunately Norton was able to successfully repair it after giving me quite a scare. But then when I thought everything was back to normal, I noticed my stickies application had completely vanished. Now maybe I'm not normal, but Stickies is what I use to keep track of the time I spend on clients' projects. Imagine, finding out all your time you had logged to a job was gone! Aaaaagh! Fortunately, one of the best things anyone can invest in is a CDRW, and I had made a backup of my main drive on CD this past July. Got a copy of the stickies app off of that, and I was back in business. However, I still feel like throwing up. I think it's time to start backing up everything again, don't you? But first I think I need to collapse...stress does this to me.
I had this spinning around in my mind recently since I caught the last part of "Of Mice and Men" (The John Malkovich and Gary Sinese version) on cable the other month. Seems like it's one of those "Deep Thoughts by Jack Handy" type things:
"If I were to write 'Of Mice and Men' I would name George 'Lenny' and Lenny 'George' because I always liked the name 'Lenny' and never liked the name 'George.'"
Don't ask me what the above means. It means nothing.
I'd like to see "Seinfeld: The Blog" just to see a blog about nothing. Can someone please do it? (I think it would fall under the fair use clause of parody, wouldn't it?)
Cool! I added a random script to the eyeballs on the left. I wonder why they seem to randomize in blocks as opposed to the same eye coming up throughout the whole page or each paragraph having a different eye....kinda weird, huh?
Weird dreams that are sort of a jumble of images and I know there were more that I cannot remember. I was at some house where Stan's (adoptive) mother was living and Stan and I were guests there. I had to use the bathroom, but there was no toilet in the bathroom, so I peed on the carpet where the toilet should have been. As I was doing that, I noticed that there was a shower stall and I thought, "I should at least pee in the shower stall," but I couldn't stop. And anyway, the carpeting was old and cruddy so I thought no one would notice. Then I remember that Caligula's head was somehow disembodied from his body, but he wasn't dead. His head could float around in the air. Somehow it was important to keep his body alive, because if his body died, his head would die, but it wasn't too dire a situation. I remember holding some of that styrofoam popcorn packing material and it would levitate like it was made of helium. Caligula's head was chasing it around in the air like it was a cat toy. Also I remember hanging around with Johnny Rotten/John Lydon and felt a lot of mutual magnetism between us.
Sunday, January 21, 2001
Stan got an email from his half-sister who is travelling alone in Italy right now, seeing the sights of their ancestors, so to speak. I am so glad to hear she is doing fine and enjoying herself, but we do worry about her travelling alone. Although I am normally a very independent, solitary, person who needs much time by myself for contemplation and to accomplish my creative endeavors, travelling is something I always have to have companionship with. I even always have companionship in my dreams...I am never alone in them. If it is not Stan, then it is a parent or someone I knew from school long ago, or someone I just made up for the purpose of the dream. I think, however, if I was in prison, I would relish the solitude and hope for solitary confinement.
Getting three orders in a day is a bit odd (good and welcome, but nonetheless unusual), but when two of them are for Macintosh Fonts, right on the heels of a Macintosh font order yesterday, it is simply amazing and against all previous odds! Windows fonts formerly made up about 98% of my font business. So glad the Mac is Back!
Also remember a bit more of my dream. Something about bad hair farmer '80s heavy metal, but that's all I can remember. One of those forgettable things...
I dreamt I was travelling some place by myself on a plane. Stan took me to Mitchell Field in Milwaukee (I haven't been there since...1980?). I don't know why he wasn't coming with me. We arrived rather early before my flight and we were wandering around the airport and I was noticing how it had changed in over 20 years (duh...of course it changed...it was a dream). Then I noticed I hadn't brought my tickets with me and we were in a panic because I'd have to go back home to get them, but the panic wasn't too severe so maybe it wasn't Mitchell Field but instead Dane County Regional (gee, it changed so much since August!)
Why am I having all these flying alone dreams lately? I hope it isn't foretelling of something.
Watched SNL last night and realized, "Hey, I'm gonna miss the 'Janet Reno Dance Party' skit." I guess now they'll have to do the "John Ashcroft No-Dance Party."
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