Mysteries surround us daily.

I like to pick out one or two unexplained things every day, and try to find a solution to it… or, barring that, make up a myth about how it came to be that way.

I’m not sure what today’s mystery is yet. perhaps that’s a mystery in and of itself.

I’m wondering why we have two of one sort of body part…. like nostrils. why two? did we need “stereophonic scent” at one point? Two eyes give us binocular vision, and two ears make it so that pinpointing a sound works well, via triangulation. Why two lungs, and two kidneys, but only one heart and liver?

Tonight, I’m getting out of work early to see Star Wars with the goon squad at work, as well as a few misc folk… I hope baby Boba isn’t as annoying as baby Darth was.

It was lightning out this morn, so instead of walking I just watched an interesting movie, Waking Life, an animated film written and directed by Richard Linklater (“Slacker,” “Dazed and Confused”), while puttering a little bit with paint shop pro. I pretty quickly got caught up in the film, only about one icon into it before stopping to pay closer attention to what was happening on-screen.

The plot summary in the IMDB gives you an idea of the quirkiness of the film:

“Dreams. What are they? An escape from reality or reality itself? Waking Life follows the dream(s) of one man and his attempt to find and discern the absolute difference between waking life and the dreamworld. While trying to figure out a way to wake up, he runs into many people on his way; some of which offer one sentence asides on life, others delving deeply into existential questions and life’s mysteries. We become the main character. It becomes our dream and our questions being asked and answered. Can we control our dreams? What are they telling us about life? About death? About ourselves and where we come from and where we are going? The film does not answer all these for us. Instead, it inspires us to ask the questions and find the answers ourselves.”

Somehow, the beautiful rotoscoped animation makes a scene of two talking heads discussing existentialism or the nature of dreams interesting for the eyes as well as the ears. It presents a lot to think about for anyone interested in dreamlands.

A lengthy anecdote concerning Philip K. Dick and “Flow My Tears The Policeman Said.” Speculations about what happens in those minutes between the death of the body and brain death. Some excellent rants. A few good tips on how to tell if you are dreaming.

Digital readouts; particularly watches, are usually garbled when dreaming.

Small print is usually gibberish. In fact, most text is an impression rather than actual words unless you pay careful attention.

Light levels don’t usually change in dreams, unless, of course, the light levels are the whole point to the particular dream. Which is rare. If you suspect you are dreaming, flip a light switch to see if anything happens.

Nifty stuff… I’m going to have to remember to try a few of those hints. I had peaceful dreams last night, but not memorable ones. I just awoke refreshed and calm.

Off to pick up 10 tickets for star wars… looks like we’ll be catching the 7:15 show tomorrow, so I’ll get to duck out early, but the 9-to-5ers can stay the whole day. Hee hee!

Until later, dear journal.

Wow, I just got done chatting with Tman… First Robb pops back out of the woodwork, and now this. I’ve not heard from him or Pix in an age. They’re still an item, and are moving in together in August… I’m so happy for ’em.. they’re an adorable couple. Both are working, Pix is doing Antonios part time, and massage… Tman is still up to his Computer net shenanigans. In honor of them, a long overdue scotto-poll.

Ok, really nigh night, now.

ok.. working on my web page.

Configuration Decisions –

Location of Menu bar Top/Right

Order of Content

Upon Loading – News Page / Links

Other Sections
Biography –
Bear Tracks – Journal – Wall Scrawls
Writing / Publication Status / Programming / Resume’
Message Board – Around the fire / Community
Tiger’s Lair – Newt cam – Gallery / Cam Links / digital photo gallery
Flint tools – Toy box – Radio station / Whiteboard / fun web things
Fossils – archives

Image Size – 96 / 120 dpi

Colors – Easy on the Eyes, Greens, Browns, and Tans, Cooler in the more
static areas, warmer in the more communal zones.

Motif – Natural, simple. Forest / Mountain / Cave / Beach.

Sea Cave – Writing

Do it in CSS1 – no VML.

Selections will have a small icon & rollover features.

Newtcam – Sun
Journal – Bear Tracks
Writing – hunting party? one of those hand outlines?
Toybox – arrowheads
Community – fire
Resume’ – ?

Called the landlord up, and he knew nothing about this morning… and is also angry at the realtor. I no longer hold the landlord responsible for any of this nonsense.

Ok, here’s the deal. I know of 2 possible other places to go, one’s a condo that I could buy… the other is a similarly priced one-bedroom apartment, that’s close enough to work that I could walk there. (a longish walk, mind you… but doable)

I could stand to own some property, if it looks good, though….not a bad investment.

Under tenant’s rights in Florida, I can call the police next time a realtor goes into my apartment without my permission… and I’ve now posted notice on my door that nobody is allowed entry without first having written permission from me beofore entering, lest they be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law, with a copy of statute 823 posted and highlighted for their reference. Also in the note is direction to telephone me at least 12 hours before sending an inspector over, or no audiance will be permitted under any circumstances. I tried to be nice, but they took advantage. Similar postings are on 3 of the four other residences in the building.

It’s illegal to change the locks without the landlord’s permission, but posting no trespassing does make it additionally illegal to step inside unless they have an appointment, or it’s an emergency, like a gas leak or fire.

Ugh… termite inspector came by at 7 am, and caught me heading out for walkies. If I’d been asleep (like the guy next door) there’d have been a problem. Apparently she didn’t call anyone to let us know that this guy would be here.

Strike Two for the new landlord and realtor. I’m going to give her a ring tonight and formally request notification at least 24 hours in advance about such stuff, and post a card on my door for any future visitors stating – “Please do not disturb. If an appointment was made, please call the real estate agent and tell them that you were not permitted to come in because I was not notified. If you are the realtor, please call next time, and we can work out a mutually agreeable time for a visit. Thank you.”

Hopefully today I can put more work into my website… get the skeleton worked out at least, and convert the concept into some solid CSS level one.

The tough part is going with what style to run with… I think I’ll pick one, and run with it.. once it’s in CSS, swapping out should be simple enough… (he said, knowing full well that weirdness does pop up.)

Pretty day out this morning… no sign of the impending week of wet…. but that’s how it is, here. like flicking a switch.

hmm… I have the feeling I’ll be doing more playing than working today…

Maybe I’ll fiddle with my homepage, if I’m between projects… that’s long overdue for a rewrite.

I’m feeling good today.. my beloved is chipper, and Newt’s a little snuggle-muffin, too. Not bad at all for a Monday!

Well that’s convenient. A free spell-checker for web-based text input boxes in Internet explorer.

Things to write about –

Do you remember exactly when you became aware of vampires? Do you remember your first shower? Do you remember when you made your first phone call by yourself? Do you remember when you started to dress yourself in the morning? Brushing your teeth? The first song on the radio? The first animal you touched?

The Count!I’ll follow up with stories as I go.

When I was a little pod, perhaps three or four years old, I got a sesame street “The Count” doll from my godfather, uncle Tommy. He was one of those friends of my dad’s that wasn’t a blood relation, but got the “uncle” prefix stapled on by general closeness. Now, Tommy was probably about 26 or 28 years old at the time, being in the same graduating class as my dad. He had a bright yellow corvette stingray, and I was small enough to fit in the back when he and my pop would go out driving around… We went out to a store somewhere, I’m not sure, exactly… Woolworth’s I think, (because he showed me the gargoyle that day, at Pleasant St. church too…) and he told me I could have any toy I wanted… At first, in all honesty, I would’ve preferred Cookie Monster or Oscar the Grouch at the time, but Tommy sold me on The Count because of his strange powers and abilities. In his Brockton accent, sort of a JFK meets Dennis Leary voice he told me, “Nah, Scotty… man, you want The Count! Check it out… He’s a vampire, little buddy! He can hypnotize you, turn into a bat, has a legion of rats, bats and wolves at his command, is wicked good at math, can make it thunder and lightening outside, and he drinks blood! How cool is that?” Well, if uncle Tommy thought the Count was cool, it made sense to me. Plus, he was purple and had a cool cape, like a superhero… and the final selling point was the Count’s laugh… “Five! five tiny caterpillars *thunderclap* Mwah-ha-ha-ha!!”

Aside from the fact that thinking about him now causes me to contemplate muppet OCD… that, and I now wonder if he fed on other muppets or the humans that lived on Sesame Street? He’s got the fangs, after all. Upon reflection, I think he just eats felt. So, that’s how I learned about vampires. Later, I’ll go into why I thought vampires would come out of the toilet when I flushed it. There’s a silly little kid fear… leave everything in the bowl, wash your hands, put the seat down, and flush… then run out of the bathroom, slamming the door behind you.

Uncle Tommy died when I was about eight years old, and he didn’t have any kids of his own. His was the first funeral I went to, and probably the first time I remember seeing my father sad. He was also the first person I ever saw smoke pot. He taught me a little about how to juggle and rollerskating (on 2×2 skates, with metal wheels… this was back in the 70’s, after all). I like to think that he and my dad are hanging out somewhere together now, shooting pool and smoking cigs guilt-free.

*purr*

Deep inside a placid grove
Where we find comfortable rest
There exists a hidden, small pond
Brimming with clear water, surrounded by reeds;
And as our mind-moons brighten together
She and I see its echoes reflected therein.

Welcome to my wall scrawls.