Two unrelated things of great importance to share with you immediately because they are so dang important.

First:

Why did this not exist when I was a Lollapalooza/Lillith Fair/outdoor all day concert goer???

Feh. How much could I have saved in a) Money spent on expensive-ass water, b) Time on quests to get ungettable booze and c) Tissues used to ferret out all the black crusty boogers created by dusty outdoor concert locations mixed with total and utter dehydration? I remember being SO PISSED when I had to toss out the water I brought to Lollapalooza (1994? is that right? Jesus, whatever) and then having to fork over $3 or $4 for a tiny bottle of lukewarm spitwater. Had I had this lovely water jug contraption to wrap around my own jugs, I would have been stoked! I also would have looked like a Russ Meyer movie, even more than I already might have with a perky high-school-breast-worthy D bra, but it would have been worth it.

Second:

Bex's friend and former co-worker, GPP (who I had the pleasure of re-meeting and dining with a few weeks ago in Portland when much of Peachpit showed up for Karen's wedding) made an excellent point on his blog about the direction of media technology that Apple seems to be pushing for/reinforcing with the release of the envelope laptop (as I've taken to calling it). I'm sure others have been talking about this, but since I'm living in a house that Linux built, the only Mac news I get is from one half of the Watsons, or from Bex. Anyway, so it's interesting to me that part of the Mac push basically takes for granted that media will continue the march toward file formats and away from discs, CD, DVD, whatever. I don't know how I feel about that. I don't miss floppy discs either, or VHS tapes. I kind of feel like I would miss CDs and DVDs though, but then again I watch TV online, use a memory stick instead of burned CDs and mostly listen to music from mp3 files instead of on CD.

Hey, so, like 20 minutes ago when I found these things and felt like I had to share them with you, I had a ton of really interesting things to say about them. And now, well, not so much.

So I'm done now.
Bye Bye.

Sucktastic.

I am a truly sucky blogger. It's true. So true that I've had to use 'truly' and 'true' in adjoining sentences, right out of the gate. That is some truthy truth. See, I thought it had been maybe two or two-and-a-half weeks since logging in some mindless sharing here, but no no. When I clicked over today, I realized: it's been over a month. Shiza.

This is pretty typical of me and projects. Fun or otherwise. Big ideas. Lots of thought/discussion. TONS of intent. A decent start, full of commitment and maybe a dash of ingenuity (I'm thinking of the millions of bead-store-necklaces that are sitting around half finished, not necessarily the bloggy blog here). But delivery? Um. Yeah.

I don't have any great excuses. It's only stupid Working On Work Projects stuff. And since I sit at my computer 10 hours a day some days (14 on more than few, I'm sorry to admit), it's not like I couldn't click over and login and dash off a post. Except I can't. Because I'd have to log out of my work Gmail and all associated Google docs (people, Google docs are amazing - a bit slow on occasion, but cheap and convenient... like my men). In logging out of work Gmail, I risk not only missing something time sensitive and critical (it's been one emergency after another, I'm telling you) but also having to log back into 25 spreadsheets and templates -that would be pure craziness- anytime I want to say something. Plus with the constant sitting and writing and stressing and staring at the (lovely and large but glaring) screen, I'm completely boring and have nothing interesting to say, can't even pretend to have anything noteworthy to note (hilarious conversations & periodic chat with Bex notwithstanding, but totally inappropriate for bloggage, I'm afraid).

But you know, popping in this evening, I realized something: I've lost time. Not X-Files lost, but like, blink of an eye/where is my-life-flying-off-to-now lost. I don't know what happened to our beautiful summer, or how the cold crept in and bit the leaves red and yellow and called in the Big Storm guns to battle the sunshine and shower us heavily in bursts throughout the day (super beautiful, I must say, but best of all: washes away all the damn crazy HUGE spiders that have invaded the building and the greenery around here). So suddenly there are only a few fragrant peaches and crapload of pears, apples, pomegranates, and other fall-ish fruits where the plums and plucots and berries spilled forth just a few days ago (or possibly a few weeks ago since I am obviously completely dissociated from real time right now). If I didn't have a calendar and had to guess the date, I'd think it was maybe Labor Day at most. So wrong.

But as far as blogging goes, it's not that I haven't made some attempt. In the past few weeks I've written and somehow not saved for editing the following posts:
Why Iowa is Great (a beginners guide)
Why Jakob is Great (an ode to the pre-three's)
Sneaky Subversive Movies and the Studios that Hide Them (until two minutes before the Oscars, forcing me to suffer "I Now Pronounce You Chuck and Larry" when I need some movie time but the screens are utterly bare.)
The Coming Recession.

I will likely not try to recreate these, with exception of Why Iowa is Great, but it will be sadly lacking in photos as my phone was an unworthy tool for capturing more than a few up-close details, and the fellow traveling with me through it's cornish hills and prairies can't be relied upon to send me any of his promised photos (from his dumb i-phone that totally didn't work anywhere in the entire state except Des Moines, by the way).

Oh yeah, that was another entry: Why iphones Are Dumb. I will likely skip that one too, so as to avoid the wrath of the growing Applafia.

Though it has kept me from participating in the blogosphere lately (writing or reading), the one good thing about current work is this: the utter ridiculousness that will make an excellent story one day, maybe even mildly amusing enough of a sitcom scenario to get a pilot made (but not shown, of course). The bad side of this absurdity is that some of the circumstantial hoopla is so totally implausible outside of something like an (admittedly poorly written) sitcom that you will think me totally trite and/or a lier if I try to explain it to you here in a factual rendering.