Ultramundane.com -- It's Just Not Natural.

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United States, California, San Francisco, The Mission, English, Spanish, Casey, Male, 31-35.

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Friday, September 27, 2002

Definitely Not Work-Safe.

Thank goodness I have an office so I can check these links.

Tonight after work I'm off to an art reception of photographs by Bruce LaBruce, the filmmaker (and now porn director) who made "No Skin Off My Ass," "Super 8 1/2," and "Hustler White." When I first moved to the city, I was really interested in homocore, a movement of people who identified as both punk and queer. And for more than the hot homocore boys, yes. (But yes, they were hot.)

Bruce's imagery still takes its cues from that "fuck the world" aesthetic. This show looks to be a lot of overtly sexual, perverted and occasionally disturbing images. Yum! ("Oooh, erotic cake!") The show runs September 27 to November 2, 2002 at Peres Projects (1800 Bryant Street, Suite 210 in San Francisco.) The reception tonight is open to the public from 6pm-9pm.

(Of course just because you have an office, it's not much help if you leave, say, BJ's porno movie pages open when people come in your office. Whoops!)

04:24 PM PST (link)

Thursday, September 26, 2002

Because Ninjas Suck.

"Your pirate name is: Black William Bonney

Like anyone confronted with the harshness of robbery on the high seas, you can be pessimistic at times. You can be a little bit unpredictable, but a pirate's life is far from full of certainties, so that fits in pretty well. Arr!"

Oh, I just realized that the Halloween costume stores are now opened. Which means perhaps I can go get a costume. Or two. Or perhaps some combination thereof.

05:38 PM PST (link)

I Need A Lock of Bill Gates' Hair.

Voodoo. That's all there is to it, Voodoo. I've spent probably 10 hours of work time going back and forth between Windows 2000 machines and Windows XP machines and my little Mac, trying to get a superscript bullet (^•, Option-8 on a Mac or Alt-0149 on yer Windows Keypad) to show up in the signature file for (primarily) Outlook Express. So far I have seen it appear as an asterisk, a period, a lower-case l; I have seen it change in text, Rich Text and HTML formats. And after all this work, I still am no closer to understanding what it will look like when it is sent. I am ready to give up and just make it an asterisk after all. Or possibly switch to longhand correspondence only.

But this isn't the part that makes me cry. It's that I know I will see this sig file appear, reinterpreted and twisted, in any number of "fun" and "interesting" ways. In a serif font, because they read somewhere that it's easier to read that way. In blue, because they like blue. On a jungle- or ivy-print background, which will come to my little text email program as an attachment—as lemon juice to pour onto my wounded heart as a designer.

Today I also learned that "Control-Return" sends the email you're working in right away. Right away. That is to say, I learned about "Control-Return" the hard way.

If I didn't know better, I'd say there was something to this Mercury Retrograde shit.

05:05 PM PST (link)

Monday, September 23, 2002

Shudder, Fidget, Flicker, Flutter, Quiver, Nod.

A spasm of pain went down my arm. Shudder. "The vein moved," she said by means of explanation. "Are you doing alright?" I took a deep breath and said I was OK, but glad to be lying down.

As the instructor went over the course syllabus, it became clear that the topics I wanted to cover would all come tomorrow, and today would be largely review of familiar concepts. Fidget. At least he's a likeable character. And at least I'm not in the office.

The line for lunch was long enough to compose most of the email. "You must have pretty nimble thumbs," a co-worker offered about the Blackberry. You get used to it, I offer. The chef tosses the salad incredibly quickly, sends it towards the register. I pay and carry it back to our table. I send the email and I see it can't quite make a connection. Flicker. Damn. I scurry up to the front of the store by the window; it connects. I rejoin the table. While I sit and eat my salad I can't focus on conversation or food without wondering if the reply has come yet, but I pointedly ignore the urge to get up to check. But I still want to. Flutter.

I forget that Peet's Coffee is stronger than the coffee I'm used to. The odd feeling of too much caffeine settles into my hands, my feet, my jaw. Quiver. Even after a brisk walk home and a starchy snack I still have the same unsettled anxiety.

Now I'm done with my nightly blogroll and not sure quite what to do with myself. I'm still too strung out, but beginning to feel my head bob from getting up so early this morning. Nod. But lying down and closing my eyes (I've tried) does nothing to stop the brain from its shudder, fidget, flutter, flicker and quiver.

Tomorrow afternoon, I'll try tea.

08:42 PM PST (link)

What Color Is It In Your World?

This is not the redesign I threatened. It's just that the grey was starting to depress me. I wanted something with a little more sky in it and a little less Web.

Actually, it doesn't feel like I've done much Web-related stuff this weekend, for a change, even though I still managed to keep up with all my favorite weblogs. I've been busy enough in the Big Blue Room to keep everything balanced.

Saturday was the 28th Annual Jug Wine Festival. Friends of ours meet on the third Saturday of September and bring a bottle of cheap wine—preferably under five dollars and bonus points for bottles larger than 750ml. This year I brought a bottle of Dumisani, a blended white wine from South Africa ($3.99 at Trader Joe's) I won an award for "Best Wine Name!" It's actually a decent enough white, particularly for the price. The highly coveted prize for worst wine (harder to win than you think) went to Arbor Mist flavored wines. Only 6% alcohol, but over 50% artificial flavor; the most commonly used word in its description was "Kool-Aid." We had a lot of good wines, but more importantly, we had a lot of fun seeing a lot of nice folk out by the ocean.

Among other things I've done this weekend:

Corralled the dust rhinos out from under my bed, organized my ~~porn~~ photographs, flattened and organized plastic bags, and (finally) found my matte cutter. It's a good thing that I'm not more organized or else I'd never clean under there.
Carried new dining room chairs home ten blocks. I could have caught a cab, but I'm cheap. I should mention also that I did this in shorts, so if you noticed it was especially bright outside yesterday, that's why.
Realized too late that the Mashimoro figure I bought in Japantown is actually a car freshener. "Too late" in this instance means held close to the nose and sniffed vigorously.
Hallucinated that a blood-draw center in San Francisco was open on a Saturday. I will instead have to attempt to get there at times when I ordinarily wake up. I will remind them that I'm a wimp and need to lie down.
Ran to the grocery store and casually ogled a shirtless man in a leather harness waiting tables(!) at a nearby restaurant; I wondered momentarily if anyone makes a full-body hairnet. Oddly enough, scarcely an hour later, the same man flirted with Novice Edith and her Mother Lily as they brunched. As Mr. Rogers would say, these are the people in your neighborhood...
Served bagels and coffee in bed to the Boyfriend. Anyone who looks that cute wrapped naked in my sheets who also picks the poppy seeds out of the bed afterwards is a keeper.

But it's Monday. I'd better get some sleep before I have to go stick my head back inside the box. Say hello to the sky for me.

12:56 AM PST (link)