Outside it is the type of winter I dream of, short sleeves in the dead of December. I have become discontent again, and I cannot conceive of being otherwise.
Monthly Archives: December 2005
note to self
-christine (ep) available on secretly canadian
-the cowardly traveller pays his toll (oop)
if anyone out there finds either of the last two on lp, and it’s under $30, then buy them for me and i’ll pay you back. and, if you haven’t listened to simon joyner yet, check him out – room temperature and songs for the new year are two of my favorites.
macintosh issue with lost resource forks
Enter FileTyper, a shareware program you can download here, here, here, and here. This Classic program allows you to restore lost resource forks, by manually naming the file type and creating application. And – it allows batch file processing via AppleScript, which is really freaking handy.
And now, for my own reference:
CricketGraph Data File Attributes:
Type: CGDW
Creator: CRGR
CricketGraph Graph File Attributes:
Type: CGGW
Creator: CRGR
CellQuest Figure File Attributes:
Type: BDLE
Creator: BDLY
CellQuest Data File Attributes:
Type: BDLM
Creator: BDLY
a slice of my fear
how easily things get fucktified.
frankly, the “scene” in birmingham is pissing me off. how easily people believe lies they are fed, more easily in interpersonal affairs than in politics. people are so busy living their lives in order to wank each others egos that they forget that real people exist in these shells. there is enough self-righteousness in this town for the whole fucking world, and i want no part in it. as soon as you motherfuckers start actually caring about each other (and the world around you) more than scene points, let me know. until then, keep the fuck out.
how easy it is for me to point fingers when someone is caught in a crystal clear web of lies.
on a similarly-related topic, self declared “hipsters” usually aren’t.
illusions
[thanks to randomdreams on lj]
—
yet another reminder that what you see is not always what is real. (as if the war-that-never-ends is not enough. as if the recent decline in gas prices is not enough. as if folks “flying signs” near on-ramps is not enough.)
what is real? i am real, in this moment. leg propped on drawer, chin propped on hand, elbow propped on knee, staring at the potted plant that keeps growing despite being chewed on by emo. the cats, curled up by the water heater because i refuse to turn the heat above 68. the hiss of the record player behind one of my favorite albums of all time.
what is not real? that glimpse of a csi ripoff i saw tonight, in which a guy was on death row for serially torturing, killing, and taking pictures of women. i saw the pictures.
guess which one will keep me up tonight?
prophecy

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