A Site of Beef by Ann-S-Thesia
EyeBlog is powered by BLOGGER
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, February 03, 2001
Stan took The Spark test I mention in my post below and he turned out to be a woman! No surprise there. We answered questions pretty similarly. He got to tell The Spark via their feedback form, "You bitches, I'm a guy!" Gotta love those crazy folks at The Spark. Here are some of the questions I recall we did answer differently:
Men prefer falling over drowning to death. Me too. Don't wanna go the way of Percy Shelley and Brian Jones, even though that would be so romantic.
So it looks like I'm sort of half and half...hermaphro or third sex. The gender-o-meter showed my placement sort of toward the middle rather than safeley embedded in the pink zone. I wonder if Stan took the test how it would rank him. See, I think there's this third intermediary sex thing that people like myself, Stan, probably Tim, would fit into because we're not really gender stereotyped. I think Spark ought to come up with a test like that.
Friday, February 02, 2001
So what I'm grasping from bits and bytes circulating the cybersphere, is that if Blogger implements a monthly service fee to keep it running, then it'll lose a lot of its users, but retain a quality core set of users that can sustain it. In other words, the people who can afford and are willing to pay YET ANOTHER MONTHLY FEE (on top of other monthly bills like internet access, domain hosting, phone bills, heating bills [outrageous this year, especially for us in cold climates], electrical bills, water bills, student loans [more than half what we pay for housing and utilities, if not equivalent to our mortgage], rent or mortgage, credit cards, food, medical prescriptions and corrective lenses, clothing, gas, etc.) are the only ones that count anyway and are the ones who have the blogs that count. Rich people make better blogs, right?
Sorry, I love Blogger, but if they implement a monthly user fee, I'm out. Sorry, but that's the facts of life. I simply cannot afford yet another monthly charge, especially one that cannot be written off as a business expense since it's a personal web page. I hardly even buy CLOTHES anymore because they're not a business expense. I even put off my eye exam for a year longer than I should because eye glasses and contacts (even though I need them so that I can WORK...will probably rant about that in the future) are not write-offable as business expenses. I'd be willing to pay a one time fee if it were reasonable, but monthly? Nope. Notice that when I sell graphics or fonts the price is reasonable, and it's one time. It's not a subscription or a renewable license.
Oh, I know! I know what I'll do! I'll put up a PayPal Donation button on my blog and have people contribute to it so that I can keep Eyeblog running! Yeah, that's the ticket. Hmmm...maybe a pay-per-update donation thing. You donate? I update. Snort. Uh..huh.
It'll be back to the old hand-coded updates for me. Fortunately, I'm really starting to understand HTML much better now that I've undertaken CSS. BBEdit 6 is a wonderful tool.
I wish the best for the future of Blogger, I really do. But I'm feeling very helpless (but not hopeless) about the whole thing. I'd donate time to them (if it were a volunteer service), I'd donate fonts, graphics, whatever. Just don't have the cash.
I do have an idea, however. Have the National Endowment for the Arts put Blogger under its umbrella. You know how all funded art lately is all geared toward THE VIEWER and how THE OUTSIDER can participate and how the art SPEAKS in a DIALOGUE to the viewers and it isn't all about just art but it's about culture and interaction and story and community? (As an artist I don't necessarily appreciate this paradigm shift away from the more personal and individual experience of art.) Well, there you have it.
Sometimes a dream can give more of an emotional feeling than a mental image. That's the way with my dream last night. I was in a house that was like an in-law's house or something, but it was in Madison, only a short distance from the Beltline. Or maybe it was like a motel. Maybe both. I remember there were a couple small kittens in the dream, and they were playing in a bedroom. I was hearing some news on the radio about a fire on the Beltline, and was looking out the window to see if I could see it. I guess it was more like a motel because there were some people walking by our room and making fun of the fact that there was a number on the window on the door. They were saying, "who'd put a number on a window?" I remember the number was 6. They gave me the creeps; they were around high-school age and they were staying in the room next to us. I just knew it would be a noisy night and I wouldn't be able to get any sleep. I wanted to leave.
Thursday, February 01, 2001
I forgot to post this the other day. Drove by The Muffin Top House on Tuesday and snapped this picture of it (below). Looks like they'll be building a Muffin Stump for it. It's hard to see in this picture, but there's a lamp in the window. They moved the house with furniture inside? Weird. I also forgot to post this before, but it's weird how "moved" houses seem to be in my karma. Of course, I don't know the ratio of moved houses (mobile homes are not included in this cateogry as they are intended to be mobile) to non-moved houses, but I used to know people in Minneapolis who live(d?) in a moved house. And I had friends in Fort Collins whose rental house was subsequently moved after they moved out of it (sparing it from what would've been a really bad flood in a few years, oddly enough), and when Stan and I moved to Madison, our rental was a moved house. It was a two-flat, a rather large old house with a lovely leaded-glass front window, and they had to remove the attic (oh, my god...they cut the top off the muffin!) so that it would fit under the power lines on its trip over to its new neighborhood. It was only moved a couple years before Stan and I lived there, and our neighbors told us about the day it moved in. Everything was crooked in that house, nothing was level. Except the basement. It had a pretty nice utilitarian basement for an old house, but of course the basement was new...was leaky though. For some odd reason that is one house that I *never* dream about, but I *do* dream about its basement! Very odd. I don't know...that seems like a larger than average ratio of moved houses than in most people's lifetimes. The other year a house made the local news because it was quite a landmark. It was being moved because the airport was buying up land that it was on. It was nicknamed the "Gumdrop House" (another confectionary house nickname...houses must lend themselves to confectionary allusions...gumdrop....muffin top...gingerbread) because it was made completely of large stones that gave the impression it was made of gumdrops. It was a beautiful house, looked like something from Olde England. It was quite an ordeal...moving a frame house is quite easy...moving a stone house isn't. A lot of reinforcement had to be done to it, especially around the tall stone chimney. But it now has a new spot and seems to be happy.
I got a pearl in my oyster!
Stan got us New Orleans Take Out today and the special was Oysters in Cream Sauce. Wasn't expecting it at all. I've eaten many an oyster in my day (but not nearly as many as I'd like to eat) and I always thought finding a pearl in an oyster was just some silly movie or tv gag. It's real! Of course it's not that pretty...looks just like a little stone. But still, it's kinda wild to have that happen.
I had a dream that I was posting on some internet message board and someone started cutting down my site and I wasn't even asking for site help or anything there...it was just out of the blue and totally off topic. I was then going to respond back to this person, but it was like I was in a lecture hall with those long desks on different levels with those chairs that are attached to them (nevermind if you've never been to a college that has those) and I was sitting next to some young guy that I had a crush on. I was also setting up some antiquated piece of recording equipment that I had to use in order to respond back to the jerk who flamed me on the message board. It was weird.
Don't mean to be insensitive here, but there's a lot of lamenting of certain recently deceased and/or dying dotcoms and the 22-year-old-geniuses who are now without jobs after living the good life for the past couple years. Well welcome to life, kids. Too bad ya gotta start eating (insert your most-tolerable economy starch-based food product here) now...some of us have been doing it for many decades...you'll get used to it. I mean jeezus. Yeah, I know the higher they climb the harder they fall or however that saying goes, but it's sure better than being terminated from a job when you were only making $4/hr to begin with and you have nothing to fall back on because, duh, how could you save anything when you were employed? Or what about not being able to get food stamps because you weren't fired...you quit an intollerable working condition? Funny how you can be a slack-off and get fired and get all these bennies when you're out of work, but take some initiative and quit, not because you're a quitter but because your employer lied to you when they hired you and the conditions are not what they were told they would be and you're stressed and sick beyond belief, even if you are the major breadwinner in your family, you get zilch for quitting. All part of the amerikan incentive to do a lousy job because getting fired is better than quitting. What logic.
Aw...korporate amerika doesn't really have a place for your internet.com dream? Hey, try being an artist! At least we weren't ever under any delusion that there was a dream. Well, those of us with a grasp of reality knew that anyway...there were always the disney witches who thought they could make it big by selling this and that...woven baskets..faux-finished papier mache vases...
So cry me a river.
Don't want to sound heartless, even though I probably do, but every week every month every year something happens to me that makes me think it's the end of the world. This is finally it...I'm done for. The End. Somehow I'm still here. The thing is, when I was in my 20s, there was no internet. There was no community of people back in the RayGun era who could communicate about feeling in similar dire straits about losing their jobs or having to take menial labor jobs after you finished college and work with scary skanks and their smelly boyfriends. We had no coalition of like-minded souls who could post on message boards or in blogs about how society short-cheated us. But I survived. I survived without much, but I did survive.
Expectations are too big. People want too much out of their careers and lives, and won't settle for anything less, like there's something wrong with that. Look out for Number One. Blah. I hate it all.
I just had to take this site off the Exploration Train on The Rail and change it to The Underground. I felt like I was the whacky neighbor with dangerous poisonous plants in my garden that might be eaten by all the kids cutting through my yard to get to the school next door. Didn't want to get yelled at by the PTA, if you know what I mean. I have no clue who signed me up for The Exploration anyway. Some things defy explanation. But I knew I did not fit into the neighborhood.
Wednesday, January 31, 2001
I'm going to quit eating beef for a while. Stan said there are cattle quarantined in Texas because they've been found to have Mad Cow Disease. I can't think of a worse fate than getting the human equivalent, Jakob Kreutzfeld Syndrome (spelling?). It's a shame...beef is my favorite footed-food. (Well, actually lamb is, but it's hard to find and has an even higher risk of the disease). I've got to get meat or else I turn terribly depressed, as I found out once when I tried to go vegetarian. I hate chicken. The other night Stan, Tim and I went to Taco Hell and ordered everything either Bean or Chicken. It was awful. After we ate, Tim said he'd risk getting the disease, that it just wasn't worth not ordering fast food made with ground beef. Tim also smokes, so he's more of a risk taker, I guess. I do like Chicken Vindaloo (sp?) and I love Wonder's Pub's (the only neighborhood bar I go to) Buffalo Wings. But most chicken is awful. When Stan and I took a whirlwind trip this fall up to the Upper Peninsula, we ate a lot of drive-through food because we had the dogs with us and didn't want to leave them alone, and well, let's face it, there's not a lot of nice restaurants you'd want to go into in the UP or on the trip up there. Nothing personal, you Yoopers, it's just my personal taste. Plus, we didn't have a lot of time either. So we ate a lot of drive-through burgers. The second evening of the trip we were so burgered-out that we decided to get KFC. It was then we decided that having too many burgers was still better than eating chicken. We ended up peeling the chicken flesh off of the bones and feeding it to the dogs. Why doesn't someone come up with a vegetarian fast food restaurant? I'm not a vegetarian, but it'd sure be welome to me. I eat the most meat when I'm on the road anyway, and that's because there's no alternative.
I just realize that I've lived nearly 30 years of my life (gawd...34 years if you count when I was a pre-school-aged kiddie and my dad was going to Notre Dame...double gawd...36 years if you count the 50s style split level housing development I lived in when I was 8-10 called "Bayberry" in the suburb Liverpool which was right outside of Syracuse, NY...SUNY...does that count?) in small college cities. Small-sized cities that revolve around a University, like Fort Collins, CO and Madison, WI. Cities that get voted in the "top 10 places to live in the US." (Either in 1999 or 2000 Ft. Collins was #10 and Madison was #5...I found that amusing). Cities where people want to settle because of the "quality of life." Well, I love Madison, and I'm sure glad I'm not still in Fort Collins for many reasons, but still, no wonder why I'm a snob when it comes to going to "Vern's Seed and Feed Tavern" somewhere out in the boonies. I'm so used to good menus and ethnic cuisine (not that any of the places I mentioned in the previous paragraph include those) and places that don't stare at you if you're with a guy with long hair in a pony tail. I guess I have a comfort zone. And within *that* comfort zone of small city with big university, there's an even smaller microcosm comfort zone which is my immediate neighborhood. Sometimes Madison's elite "West Side" scares me (It's too much like the icky south side of Fort Collins...malls, new office buildings, ick...like something out of a 1980s clip art catalog with office girls in big hair and men on phones...just between you and me, Madison's "West Side" isn't really Madison), and the University zone annoys the heck out of me (always have to flip off the Inhumanities Building when we drive by it, for old time's sake), but the East Side Isthmus area, specifically, the Schenks-Atwood Neighborhood, I feel totally at home in. We have the best neighbors. Imagine...someone not complaining about their neighbors; is this for real? Our zip code has the highest percentage of gay and lesbian poppulation in the US, even higher than San Francisco. A very liberal, accepting neighborhood. I hope I never have to move. At first I was pissed off I ended up here after I realized what a load-o-crap the UW art department was, but I'm glad I stuck around to see that there is a reason to stay in Madison after graduate school. Thank you Alison K., wherever you are, for recommending to me way back in 1987 that I'd really like Madison.
I looked at the prospectus for the Northern National Juried Art Competition that's held up in Rhinelander every summer. I enter every year, get accepted about every other year. This year's juror: Edward Paschke. Yikes! I wrote a paper on Ed Paschke for an art history seminar, "Postmodernism in Art History" or somesuch course. It was like an advanced undergraduate seminar for Art History Majors, but as a Fine Art Graduate Student, I could take it too to fulfill part of my Art History requirement (the other Art History course was Indian Art History...very challenging, very non-western, and I got an "A" for the course! Somehow I excelled at the essay tests, oddly enough. And my memory was good for remembering the dates. Didn't do too well on the small papers I had to write as they had to be done in the format of reviewing articles about Indian Art History, not about the Indian Art History itself, which I found a very difficult concept to deal with. Was fascinated by the structure of the "stupa" however, and find myself incorporating little fake-o-modern stupas in my drawings every once in a while) Anyway, back to Ed. The purpose of the paper was to choose several artists from a long list the professor gave, and describe why or why not their art is postmodern. This was in 1991 or 1992, and most, if not all of the students in the class were struggling with the definition of post-modern, which is still extremely difficult to define. I remember I asserted that Ed was post-modern, but I forgot why I said so exactly, something to do with his paintings appearing to be people caught inside a tv, so it's referential to the human condition of becoming appropriated into nothing but an image of itself...blah blah blah... Anyway the professor LOVED my paper. It was my pre-computer era (I used them at work, didn't own one), KMart electronic typewriter cut and paste Xerox job, so in and of itself the paper looked sort of postmodern too, in the way that indy band posters do. I got an AB in the class though (UW gives out "half grades" like AB, BC, CD [I think there was a CD level, not sure now...I know there was no DF] because despite the fact that my paper was great, I "didn't talk enough in class." Blah. I heard things about the prof (gee, I forgot his name...reminded me of Peter O'Toole) that he'd have affairs with his female students, so maybe I could've brought it back up to an A and retained a perfect 4.0 average. Nah. Anyway, getting back to Ed, again. I'm almost scared to enter it this year. I mean, what if he rejects my work? I'd feel really rotten.
In case you tuned in late, Stan does not look like the picture below. He's in his Old Navy Lady Halloween 2000 Costume. Just so you know. Actually, at one time his hair really was that color...(but NOT that style...yikes, can you imagine?) we dyed it. It was like...18 years ago. I had short punked hair. His hair was longer than mine. He wore eyeliner. With the dyed hair, eyeliner, no shirt, he looked like Iggy Pop. I was also jealous that he looked prettier than I. Wow. Long stretch from Iggy Pop to Old Navy Lady.
What is the deal with pages that show up in your referrer stats and you can't find a link to your page anywhere on them! I get a few every week. I don't understand that much about the way browsers, internet stuff works, but can someone have several pages open, page A and page B, your link is actually on page B, but they drag the link over to page A, so your site opens on page A, and so does it show page A as generating the link in your stats instead of page B? Does that make sense?
Also, I really appreciate the people who have emailed me to tell me if something is wrong on my sites, and who have helped me work out the problem, like stuff not lining up, text doing weird stuff, etc. I use a Macintosh and it cannot pick up on the bugs inherent in Windows-based browsers (it's true, MSIE 5.5 does have known bugs, as does Netscape 6 for both Mac and Win, not to mention the terribly unreliable Netscape 4.x with its poor adaptation to CSS). But what drives me up the wall is people who email you (naturally these are the people who don't address it to your name, nor do they sign their own...very anonymous and cryptic) to tell you that something is wrong, but they are very unspecific, and when you email to ask them for details, they never email you back. I mean why bother in the first place? Is it just because they're snots? Like little high school kids who drive by in a car (jam-packed with the same, no doubt) and yell stuff at anonymous people on the street for no reason. Just to be little snots.
Weird disparate dreams. One of them I had really crooked teeth with big gaps in them. Yuck. I hate teeth nightmares. The other dream was sort of hard to explain. It was like I was listening to Stan tell a story that he was writing, but I was seeing it at the same time. There was a man and a woman in the story, the woman was married (she looked a little like Jamie Lee Curtis...go figure), and the man was a writer. There was a sort of chemistry between them, and I wanted them to have an affair, but I didn't progress that far in the dream.
Tuesday, January 30, 2001
Stan and I went to Red Lobster today to eat a late lunch and I realized I wasn't wearing earrings so I told him I felt naked. That led to another conversation, which led to my recalling more of my dream last night. I dreamt I was watching TV and there was a guy in it with very tight fitting briefs or pants or something, very tight, very sheer, if you catch my drift, and he was in full arousal. I couldn't believe they were showing it on TV. Well, they weren't...they were showing it in my dream. Can't remember the guy...just his...well, you know.
These are the dreams I had last night that I *CAN* tell you about: I had this little gadget or food or drink type thing...came in a sealed glass, called a "hurricaine." Sort of like those tornados you used to see around in novelty stores where you shook it and it would swirl around like a tornado. Same principle in the dream except that it was supposed to be edible too. But it was waaaaay cool. Each time I shook the glass it would reform into a new techno shape. Like one time it would look like blocks of hematite or pyrite, another time it would have spirals and springs like in a retractable pen, another time it would be organic-looking. Very Brycean, very Sci-Fi, very cool. The other part of my dream I think I was sort of drunk. Stan and I were still in college or grad school or something, and I had signed up to have an exhibit on Library Mall (ew...outside art exhibits...gag) on some Friday the 24th, whenever that is. Except I didn't have anything prepared. I found out about it by reading some student paper that listed my exhibit under "Events" in the classified section. I thought, "Oh well, no one ever reads these things anyway, I can just blow it off." The way the exhibit was worded was more like a "happening" or "art performance" rather than exhibit, so I figured I could incorporate my no-show as part of the performance. I guess it's good that my college test/dropping classes anxiety dreams seem to be moving into art exhibit anxiety dreams. After how many years?
I swear, yesterday was a glitch in the cosmos. Things are back to normal. I had a dream, which I cannot go into in detail, that "things were fixed." I woke up this morning, and they were fixed.
Monday, January 29, 2001
Personally, I'm glad to see them "Go." I've never liked Go as a search engine because people can bid or buy their way to the top of the rankings. I feel bad for the people who will be losing their jobs (and for those at Chrysler too, for that matter), but definitely not for Eisner and all the Disney junk that's blighted our "entertainment" landscape.
So I talked to Tim before I had a chance to post this, and he said that the good thing about Disney is that they offer benefits for unmarried partners. Whatever. That doesn't make their product not suck.
I worry too much. I worry for other people. I worried for Tim's dad this weekend and Tim thanked me for worrying for him. I wish I wouldn't worry, I wish I didn't take things people do or say too personally, but I can't help it. I feel like everything that is done to me is done out of spite or malice or hatred or conspiracy. It's clicheed, I know, but I know it's from my childhood. I'd hear my parents discussing things about me behind closed doors. I'd find out my friends were conspiring against me--they'd even tell me so--forming little cliques and cabals and disney witch anti-Ann brigades. Conspiracy may be all in your head when you're an adult, but it is not so when you're a kid, I know as much. So when I'm met with an adverse situation, I know no reaction except to freeze and retreat to the way I felt when I was young...not eating, temperature dropping, tensing up...pre-death rigormortis. I'm a Cancer. We're supposed to worry. Sometimes I wish I was dumb, that I had no intuition, no sensitivity to others. I wish I wouldn't worry about my friends (like as far as their financial or family well-being, finding good relationships, jobs, health, etc.) because as soon as I start showing compassion and concern for their lives, something bad happens in my own. I wish I was more self-centered, that I could care less about others and only care about myself. I wonder if I'd get sick less often and worry less if that were the case. I'm a Cancer. We're good listeners. No one listens better than I do. Everyone else interrupts. I'm tired of listening. I'm growing deaf.
Sunday, January 28, 2001
Someone found this blog on a Google/Yahoo search for hot sexy punkie. I hope they weren't disappointed...after all, Google only shows my posts about push-faced dogs and Count Chocula and they chose my site anyway. How sexy can those topics be to the average surfer?
Oh well this is weird. The post I just entered seemed to go through (despite the fact that there appears to be some Blogger Blockage going on) and it was even listed under Blogger's "Recently Updated" column, but the post is not on my blog. Hmmmm.
Sad web site funerary post. I had to get rid of my animated mouseover electrodes and email eyeball at my Eyebalm fine art site. Nothing is permanently lost, however. As soon as Netscape 6 fixes the bug that causes my site to shrivel up and die when mousing over animated mousover links...they're back up.
Weird. I have my ann-s-thesia site on The Rail. I'm on the Sightseer train. "The Sightseer is for those with a heightened visual acuity, with destinations relating to art, photography, design, fashion, computer imagery, and all sites that are either pretty, or pretty cool." I spaced it when I redesigned so they sent me a reminder to add it back to my page. After I re-submitted my site to them so that they could re-add it to their list, I get an email telling me that THIS site, Eyeblog, was approved for The Rail, The Exploration train. "The Exploration will stop at sites pertaining to educational topics, exploration, science, world cultures, geography, regional, and all other sites that have to do with learning about our big round world." Are these two totally unrelated, yet coincidental events? Did someone else submit eyeblog to the rail (thank you if you did)? I'm confused. Also confused is why they'd think my site fits in Exploration. I mean it's quite an honor that someone thought so highly of it, as those are quite heady and heavy topics. I would've placed it in The Underground, myself. "The Underground visits stops that are weird, bizarre, strange, otherworldly, useless, experimental, goofy, or otherwise charming in an odd sort of way." But it's already been approved, so I'm not complaining...just confused.
Copyright 1996-2001 Ann Stretton. All Rights Reserved. No part of this web log may be copied or reproduced, however text may be quoted if a link is given in return. Permission is not given under any circumstances to use any of the graphics or art on this site, however If you ask first, I may grant permission at my discretion. Please check the link above to my Ann-S-Thesia site for web graphics if that is what you need.