Geez. It's been so long since I updated this blog that I seem to have forgotten how to use the system. Which is a bad thing, since I came in to the office today to build a new web site. Remember the brief life of "Mild Burning Symptoms"? the site I built to sell off our extra crap? No? I don't wonder. Well, anyway, we've decided to try again. The new site is Ma Groover's Vintage. Or it will be. If I can remember how to use Expression Engine. Ah well, let's code!

It took longer than anticipated. It still needs some tweaking, not to be confused with twerking, and there may be some parts missing. Nevertheless, Miz Shoes is proud to unveil Girlyshoes Three Point Oh, now with more LOLZ.

What do you think?

I give up. I have spent close to two hours with my hosting service’s tech support. They are stumped. I have sent a tech support request to my CMS. I’m going to go work on a quilt now, because the sewing machine works. Unlike my brain and the back end of this blog.

I swore to myself that the first thing I was going to do once I left the office was revamp this blog. Today I found two installations of the software I use to make it. I’ve never cleaned my virtual house and now I am going to have to do a clean install of my cms, rewrite everything and redesign this site. Not that I couldn’t update without that, but it would probably result in three installations and more problems. The last time I updated I lost my photo libraries and archives, and I never had the time to figure out that problem, so it’s time.

Say goodbye to Girlyshoes, and hello to Girlyshoes Three Point Oh, now with more cats.

Or it will be soon.

Would someone please remind me what I did to reset the path to my image library, because I need to undo it.

OK. I’ve grudgingly joined the 21st century. I now twitter. I own more domain names than I need. I have an i-phone…with video, so I could, if I chose, make a video of the Noble Dog Nails on his raft in the pool, or of him assaulting the pool noodles. I could then post it on YouTube. I’m on LinkedIn. I’m planning on getting a webcam so that I can Skype.

Today, I am going to chain myself to the dining room table and I’m not leaving until I have the PayPal cart integrated with the Fox-ee cart and all the pieces are working to make Mild Burning Symptoms go live. That’s my challenge to myself. I have a fresh pot of coffee, the i-phone is jacked into the laptop, and I am going to twitter the whole damn thing.

Feel free to follow along, kibbitz, advise, laugh or what ever. Gah.

On Saturday, I sat down at my laptop, notes and manuals to my right, coffee cup to my left. I wrote a brilliant recap of part two of the ANTM premiere. I uploaded it. I backed up some, but not all of my site, and, before I began the coding of Paypal into Mild Burning Symptoms, I decided that it would be advantageous to update the software that runs this site. I was wrong. I was wrong in ways I have still to count. To say that I blew up Girlyshoes would be an understatement like saying that George W. Bush wasn’t the best president we’ve ever had, and maybe not the brightest. It would be an understatement like saying that George Clooney and Brad Pitt aren’t too bad looking. It would be an understatement on a par with saying that Paris Hilton is maybe not the classiest girl to ever climb into a limo and onto a trustfundnista. Perhaps I am belaboring the point, but I fucked Girlyshoes right out of the world wide web.

I’m not a total dolt, and I was able to reconstruct my data base, missing only two entries. One (ANTM part one) I was able to find cached in Google. The other? Maybe. Maybe not.

I’m sorry that you’ve not been able to keep up with the fabulousness that is my pathetic life, but them’s the breaks. Hah! Get it? I broke my site.

God, I’m pathetic. And also tired. It took four days of constant help desk consultations on, not one, but two sites (my hosting company and the software company) to rebuild and repair Girlyshoes. And I still have to sit here and figure out the Paypal thing. All I want is to go back into my studio and sit at my spinning wheel. But no. I have to write code. And more code. And try not to fuck anything up again.

And then? More photos, more code, and launch the virtual garage sale.

In the meantime, the birds are mocking me. I hear them, and I see the seed levels go down in the feeders, but the little feathered bastards won’t show themselves while I’m out there watching. Mocking me, I tell you. And the squirrels? Oh, my lord. The squirrels have attitudes. These Miami squirrels don’t do dried corn. My brother’s squirrels up in St. Lucie County, they love corn. My guys? They turn up their furry little noses, and refuse to eat it. They didn’t eat the pumpkin seeds, either. I had to give a big bag of squirrel chow to my brother, because the fluffy-tailed tree rats only want peanuts and sunflower seeds. The little beasts eat better than I do. At least my hummingbird is faithful and doesn’t complain about her sugar water.

The dogs are unimpressed with this sudden influx of fauna. They bark a little now and then, just to establish their territory, but really? they don’t much care. The only birds who’ve come and made a regular stop are the mourning doves, and a couple of ring-neck doves. I like them fine, but I’m doing this for color and song, and the doves have neither. Oh, a little cooing now and then, but half the time, I can’t even tell they’re out there because they are the same grey brown as the dirt under the palms.

That’s it. I’m exhausted. And so, to bed.

I ran across this the other day, and I am fascinated. Aquariums that look like landscapes. It’s an aquatic variation on bonsai forests. But with fish. Swimming over the mountains. The Japanese have kicked our asses once again in the realm of the fantastic. And miniature. And tripping. Check this out, it’s the number one aqua forest in the world.

This is number 15. Awesome. Everyone seems to use neon tetras, but I could never get the little bastards to live and reproduce.

Geeky goodness, non? For those of you who, like me, were graphic designers in the dark ages before computers, I bring you the Museum of Forgotten Art Supplies. I think I have used everything in there, except the green eyeshade. I certainly still have a jar of Super White, a pack of rubylith, X-acto knives and blades, some of those exact Design markers, and sheets of press type and Pantone paper. I once had my house painted by handing the painter two sheets of Pantone and telling him to figure out the house paint equivalent. In case you are wondering, it was a conch-shell pink with aqua trim… PMS 270.

Finally, my college boyfriend who went on to do well, as opposed to the others who went on to drop off the face of the earth, has sent me a press release, and because I have a soft spot for Bruce, I’ll pass it along:

Los Angeles, CA— Turner Classic Movies will feature on Sunday, January 18 at 9:00pm (Pacific Time) the world television premieres of the new 2K digital restoration of Manhatta (1921, Paul Strand and Charles Sheeler) and the new photo-chemical restoration of N.Y., N.Y. (1958, Francis Thompson) on “Sunday Silent Nights.”

This TCM milestone broadcast of two abstract-experimental films restored by Bruce Posner and Anthology Film Archives, New York, will be followed on Monday, January 19 at 8:30pm (Pacific Time)  at REDCAT with the Los Angeles premiere of Manhatta and N.Y., N.Y. as well as seven other restored film treasures at the Roy and Edna Disney/Calarts Theater in Walt Disney Concert Hall in Downtown Los Angeles.

The REDCAT screening will be presented by archivist, curator and filmmaker Bruce Posner, who will introduce the films and discuss the process of preservation and digital restoration for images at Lowry Digital, Brubank, and Cineric, Inc., New York and for audio and music at Chace Audio, Burbank, and Trackwise, New York.  Posner was a recipient of a 2005 Special Citation from the Los Angeles Film Critics Association for his restoration of “Unseen Cinema: Early American Avant-garde Film 1893-1941,” the groundbreaking film-dvd retrospective released by Image Entertainment. 

There is something funky going on. Is the work server denying me access to my blog, or my blog denying me access from work?

There is a difference, you know.

No good deed goes unpunished they say, and RJ has punished me for getting her blogging by selecting me for this Arte y Pico Award a few days ago. 

Since the original came from a blog written in Spanish, and my Spanish is limited to curses, sarcasm, menu items and finding the location of the nearest bathroom, I have to take RJ’s word that “this award was created to be given to bloggers who inspire others with their creativity and their talents, and for contributing to the blogging world in whatever medium. When you receive this award it is considered a “special honor”. Once you have received this award, you are to pass it on to 5 others. What a wonderful way to show some love and appreciation to your fellow bloggers!!!” I guess. I think a better way would be to leave comments or give me enough page views to make me more than a wiggly worm on The Truth Laid Bear’s blog ecosystem, or nominate me for an award like the Webbys that carries with it global prestige and money. Failing that, I accept this honor with my usual good humor and graciousness: “Thanks a lot, bitch.”

The rules for passing this honor on are:

Pick 5 blogs to which you would like to award this honor.

Each award has to have the name of the author and also a link to his or her blog to be visited by everyone.

Each award winner has to show the award and put the name and link to the blog that has given her or him the award itself.

Award-winner and the one who has given the prize have to show the link of “Arte y Pico” blog, so everyone will know the origin of this award.

And my top five are (and I have no doubt that none of them will post this or even acknowledge that I have tapped them for greatness, but WTF.)

1) Erin, of Dress A Day, for her witty and well-written blog about sewing and fashion. Erin is the reason half of my studio is piled up with vintage patterns, a dress-maker’s mannequin and non-quilting fabrics. Thanks.

2) The Rude Pundit, real name unknown. Rude is not the word for the Rude Pundit. He is a vicious liberal whose ability to curse makes me look like a home-schooled born again third grader. And that takes a lot. He’s also so much more liberal than I that he makes me look like a Young Republican, and this from a woman who drove home from the movies today shouting “TRAITOR” out of the car window at the driver of the car sporting a “Democrats for McCain” bumper sticker. I love and adore the Rude Pundit, even if he only rarely replies to my geeky fanboy e-mails.

3) Dan, of Chucklehut. He is a writer’s writer. He crafts beautiful vignettes of words and emotions and pictures. I had the pleasure of meeing Dan face to face once, and I am jealous of all the west coast bloggers who get to see him on a regular basis. His is a gift, generously shared.

4) Tom and Lorenzo of Project RunGay, who kill me with their recaps and discussions of Project Runway. I just wish they’d link to me at least once in a season, y’know? Would it kill to share the fan base? But in the realm of bitchy gayness, they are the queens.

5) And finally, Tata of Poor Impulse Control. She’s a Jersey Girl who could kill you with a few well chosen words. Whether you die of laughter or embarrassment or just find yourself sliced and diced by her pointy words, is a matter of choice. Her choice. Her choice of words. And which ones she’ll chose depends on her mood and your level of stupidity. If your name is Dubya, watch out.

So that’s it. I love these guys, and you should too.

I was noodling around in the links today, and first RJ finally did a meme I sent her so long ago I don’t remember, and then Marseeah over at The Pink Shoe did this meme. Which, just as she says, is a fine and entertaining sort of meme. I won’t tag anyone else, but feel free to play and leave a link in the comments when you do.

Here are the rules:

a. Type your answer to each of the questions below into Flickr Search.

b. Using only the first page, pick an image.

c. Copy and paste each of the URLs for the images into fd’s mosaic maker.

Questions:

1. What is your first name?

2. What is your favorite food?

3. What high school did you go to?

4. What is your favorite color?

5. Who is your celebrity crush?

6. Favorite drink?

7. Dream vacation?

8. Favorite dessert?

9. What you want to be when you grow up?

10. What do you love most in life?

11. One Word to describe you.

12. Your flickr name.

And here is what I came up with:

And let me say right now, that the results of this are pathetic.

The 123 Rules:

  1) Pick up the book nearest you with at least 123 pages. (No cheating!)

  2) Turn to page 123.

  3) Count the first five sentences.

  4) Post the next three sentences.

  5) Tag five other bloggers.

Here goes:

Blog Design Solutions

On a typical site, you might then assign a template groups to a particular section, or weblog.

Upon install, a blog caled weblog1 is already created for you. It will contain one sample article and three sample categories, and you write your entries using basic entry fields.

So, now I have to tag five other bloggers, huh? OK.

1. RJ

2. Solonor

3. Dancing Brave

4. Miss Bliss

5. R80o

Really. And the best part? Page 123 is actually in the section for which I purchased the book; the chapter on Expression Engine by the delightful and erudite Simon Collison. Whee.

I just saw this:

The Beatles are about to become radio stars in a whole new way.

NASA on Monday will broadcast the Beatles’ song “Across the Universe” across the galaxy to Polaris, the North Star.

The story is full of embedded lyrics and the author obviously had a good time writing it.

What sticks with me though, is this: it is the 50th anniversary of NASA. I grew up just down the coast from Cape Canaveral, and the space industry has been a part of my whole life. My beloved cousin Milton worked on the Gemini project doing something with the space suits. From the very beginning, when a rocket launched, my whole elementary school would be trotted out to the playground, lined up and faced north, and with the little black and white portable tv in the classroom giving us the play by play, we would watch the vapor trail, and the bright flash of the booster separating from the body of the rocket. Then back we’d go into the school, to follow the rest of the story.

Perhaps those memories are why some of the short stories by Ray Bradbury resonated so deeply with me. In books like The Illustrated Man, there seemed to always be folks sitting on their porches on a clear summer night, watching the space ships take off from beyond the corn fields. Those stories seemed to be so close, just another year or two away from what was real in my life already.

When we drove to Newport for the summer, we would stop at a picnic area in Titusville, just across the St. John’s River from the Cape. We could see the rockets on their pads, and the giant buildings where the rockets were built. They were so big, we were told, that clouds formed in the upper reaches. I knew how to spell the word “gantry” and what it meant.

Why wouldn’t there be rockets beyond the orange groves and fireflies in the trees?

Sometimes, my padawan learner, you just have to scratch the itch.

I bought the Nikon. I have been shooting tons of pictures. Oh, lord, how I have missed an SLR. Of course, this purchase was directly responsible for my only resolution of 2008: This is the year I rid myself of unwanted weight, be it body fat or excess possessions. I spent new year’s day listening to the Moody Blues and making Mild Burning Symptoms a live website. There’s nothing there but an “I’m plotting great things” note, but I am in fact, plotting great things.

I will be dumping possessions all year. Art supplies, ephemera, artwork. I have sworn not to buy any new supplies for the entire year. No new cloth, fiber, beads, books or magazines. I will trade off old supplies for new, but only if I end up with less volume in the process. Speaking of which, anybody out there interested in about 30 years of Gourmet back issues? I think I’m only missing 6 or 7 issues in all.

It is no shock to constant readers of this blog that I am a gear head. A gear head from the first. And an aberration in my family, where nobody knows anything about cars. Well, there is a legendary uncle on my father’s side who used to come to Florida for the horses, arriving in some flash convertible with golf clubs in the back and leaving by hopping the train… but I digress.

Anyway. Cars. Love them. Love to drive them. Love to look at them. Loved this article about them.

The 50 Worst Cars of All Time

I actually had some sewing room time this weekend, and some lolling about in the pool with the dogs. I started another tallis, and it should be ready for the holiday later this week. Tomorrow night I have to bake a honey cake. The RLA asked if I would be so kind as to make the traditional, dense, brick-like version this year, and I will happily oblige.

Later dollinks.