Twelve hours of work, one hour of dinner, six hours of play.
Five hours of sleep and the cycle cycles anew.

Who will join me for a hot crock of baked beanie babies?

Man. You know you're a geek when reformatting your hard drive is, like, a fun way to spend a weekend. After four hours of sleep, I practically backflipped out of bed with delight, ready for the final round of backups.

I'll see you on the other side.

A bit of fun reading found on Metafilter this morning: Miracles of the Next 50 Years, as published in Popular Mechanics back in 1950. The wonders of our present future are all described through the lives of a fictional family of white people. Checkit:

Some of the food that Jane Dobson buys is what we miscall "synthetic." In the middle of the 20th century statisticians were predicting that the world would starve to death because the population was increasing more rapidly than the food supply. By 2000, a vast amount of research has be conducted to exploit principles that were embryonic in the first quarter of the 20th century. Thus sawdust and wood pulp are converted into sugary foods. Discarded paper table "linen" and rayon underwear are bought by chemical factories to be converted into candy.

As citizens of earth, let's all band together to ensure that these dreams become reality before yet another 50 years slip away from us. Jesus. If science ever figures out a way to recycle clothing into candy, I'll eat my hat.

compatico.
totally compatico.

it's raining now, as it has been for more than twelve hours. lush and green, wet and gray. last night i slept for twelve hours. i should probably eat something, as my ten a.m. breakfast with matt has been, as they say, digested. I eat a lot of baked beans, for some reason. my friend nikki says she strongly associates me with baked beans. i find that disheartening, for some reason. i'd probably feel better if i had some baked beans to munch on.

andrew came to visit for five days, and alison came to work and play for two weeks, and virgil got married. there were meals cooked, long days toiling under a hot sun, meeting up with multiple circles of friends at the tortoise show. four birthday gifts, casually spaced. my hair is blond now.

i missed pobably the most important thing to ever happen within the world of weblogs, but it's okay. i'm busy, and comfortable unplugged, and life before the internet seems familliar - laughing face to face with friends, a little croquet on the grass, sleep and beverages. climbing a playground with rabi. a warm weekend in a new hampshire cabin, drinking and grilling. but i miss everyone scattered across earth i haven't had time to read during the past month. clickety-click. vroom vroom.

the day after she left was one of the most difficult sunny days i've ever walked.

rain stopped. compatico.
lots of weezer, too.

Last month, Aimee Wilkens layed down a double issue of F/2, her always beautifully designed photo netmag. Included in the May/June issue focusing on places are eight photos I've taken of my car, all around the country. Several of these have already appeared in sixfoot6.com, somewhere. Since the images are not labelled within F/2, here's some quick captions:

1. Californian Desert
2. Missouri gas station
3. Manhattan
4. Gas station, 01-01-2000, California
5. Plymouth, MA, cemetary
6. Driving through New Mexico
7. My front yard
8. Ted Williams Tunnel, Boston

Next time you're in Okie country, be sure to stop by and visit me in person at the travel center and lemme know what you think of the photos. I'm located just down the street from Ms. Shortstop, Inc., now owned by dear Ms. Martha Sickles. You'd think with my sweet travel center job, I wouldn't have to lug a 4500 pound car around, but nego.