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Name: lecram sinun
Location: California, United States

Wednesday, February 7, 2007

sorry, not post today...

... except to say that the work ( at least for print media) is done and uploaded to the printer in Montana. Yay, over that hump on hump day.

Time for sleep... and another opportunity to dream.

EDIT: 7:15 PM
I thought I was... but the printer emailed me with some needed fixes. Got it done in 2 hours. Let's hope thats it.

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Monday, February 5, 2007

my brain is mush at the moment...

.. so, I thought I'd post a blog. LOL! It's not as bad as it sounds... worse actually. Thanks for asking. There is still more to go but there is light up ahead. Into the light... into the light... it's peaceful and warm and... Crap, I'm still not done with this?

Almost there... we're almost therrrreeee (Sing it, Andy!) OK, it's official... I've lost it. Where are my pretty marbles?

Perhaps another nap... hmmm... maybe this time in loony nodland the giant roaches dressed up in tuxes will actually allow me in the game. Full contact scrabble... brutal but engaging. Though dyslexia doesn't help a whit... and there are dirks involved if you are hiding a vowel.

Ah... but I got all my (old) blogs moved to the "new" blogger. When I have a sliver of free time I'm moving that to my server... where my new one resides. Then, I'll spend a weekend eating doritos and slamming cokes labeling the old posts. Important labels like, "nonsense", "crap", and let's not forget "cooking naked with splashy hot oil". Too long a label? Maybe just "sizzling oil", huh?

But now I think for the betterment of humankind... a nap is in order. OK, if the giant roaches in tuxes won't let me play I'll just wander to where the skyscraper is lying on it's side and swim in the pond of liquid gold. Perhaps then the Sargent major ballerina will serve me the hotdogs and caviar I ordered the last time I was there.

Later and Cheers!

EDIT: 8:29 AM
My nap evolved into a full night's sleep. Back to my boring self again, I guess... and back to work. At least I can now focus on the pixels again.

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... prechance to dream... but instead...

... you enter into the loopy, loony, lucid land of nod. That's where I've just come from. You've been there before, haven't you? Especially from that first "nap" you dared to take after ploughing straight through on an almost non-stop marathon of doing something like... say... GRAPHICS?

It's the hard left you take 2 exits before the Twilight Zone turnoff. The nap you tell yourself is so needed at 1 AM when you've been up since 3 the morning before? Yeah, that place. Your mind is still razor sharp but you know that a power nap is needed just so the neighbors don't call on the guys with the white jackets on your behalf. The nap you enter with your very own version of swirling circus music... a whimsical buzz that hums paintings by Salvador Dali for the first half hour. Then it subsides to a peaceful stillness and you know the fun is just about to begin.

Half awake and half in dream state you bounce through several mind movies that suggest that Ingmar Berman collaborated with the Keystone Kops and that Charlie Chaplin provided Apocalypse Now with that warm fuzzy and uplifting ending. But these dreams are lucid and you have the power to change them. You don't. Why spoil the ride? You couldn't pay money for this stuff. Besides, if you did you fear the frightening turn it might warp into simply because the noodles encased in your skull have been racing forward in a swirl like Speedy Gonzales operating a merry-go-round on coke.

So, I'm up again and whacking this work out just so it's off my hands. Another pot of coffee on the brew. Considering the work load I'm actually feeling rather chipper. Or could it be that I have finally jumped that barby fence that holds us just this side of reality? But the work needs to get done. Come by in a few days and you can get a PDF of it... unless of course they've already taken me away. The difference between this year and that? 12 more pages.

Later... Cheers!

Oh, and here are 7 Reasons not to go to Vista... yet.

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