Prairie Ag Coop is my latest website gig. It’s coming along; I’m starting to dig the way it’s looking. I went through four drafts before I came up with a look that didn’t suck.

I’ve been digging everywhere for weather feeds and finally found one that isn’t too ugly. Now I’m after DTN crop quote feeds, but I think they all cost lots baksheesh.

Now I’m thinking about moving my business info off of goblinbox completely. The idea of building a new site is terribly exciting; I might even use MT for the whole thing. Would that not be awesomely trick?!
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I don’t know if you know my co-worker Buzz, but he’s somewhat evil.

Today he turned to me and said he was thinking about learning to make absinthe. (He’s already an accomplished brewmeister.) Naturally, I got right on the web and started looking around for info on absinthe.

…and now I’m seriously contemplating dropping about a hundred bucks to get a bottle of it and either a spoon or a sipping pipe – an article so cute and elegant how could you possibly not want one?

So, do yourself a favor and do not visit www.seborabsinth.com because you’ll just end up wasting time and money there.

The joys of having actual paying gigs to do at home are these:

I don’t feel guilty about not doing the chores.
I get just as many chores done as I do when I don’t have paying work to do.
I feel better about the whole thing because I’m making money.

I’m not sure how this works, but I can somehow manage to get the dishes done, wash a few loads of laundry, and pick up the trouble spots with ease while I’m working. But if I don’t have work to do, I get the same amount of housework done – no more – and I feel bad about the housework I didn’t do.

I’m doing a website for Prairie Ag Coop. Next week, Davis & Palmer might hire me to build them one. And my step-dad forwarded me a lead from my mother, of all people, whom I shall call tomorrow. (“Hi, I realize I sound like a frog but I’m really your future webmaster. Please fill out the damn quote form at goblinbox.com/services already.”)

I’m doing two issues of the Enfield Bullet Owner’s newsletter back-to-back, and most of the articles are hand written (I kid you not: folks who ride vintage-style bikes don’t use computers nor digital cameras much) and I’ll have to type them in. And the most exciting part is that I have no idea who will be paying me for the work.

On top of all that, I just discovered No Media Kings and now think I should just get my shit together and write myself a book. I mean, how hard can it really be? No one reads as much as I do; it’s not like I don’t know an awful lot about character, story, pacing, tone and texture.

Maybe it’s just that the guy writes so well. He makes it sound so utterly fun to write a book and self-publish it. Or maybe it’s just that his index page is powered by Movable Type, and I’m in love with MT even though I haven’t mastered it quite yet and am still running a lame-ass template.

My problem with writing is the same I had with composing music: I enjoy reading (and music) a lot, but I never really have much to say. (If you doubt me, read my blog. Yawn.) Perhaps the truth is this: who cares if you have nothing to say. Add your voice to the noise anyway and some dumbass is bound to find you interesting in spite of yourself. (Also true in music: every time I’m a one-song ringer in someone else’s band I get accosted by bag boys for months afterwards.)

Quick, someone send me an outline. I could probably bang out a full-length novel in a few months… well, if I could summon up some discipline that is.

Download the Underground ebook (mentioned in Rants books) in PPC format here.
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I got sick of not being able to connect to the Internet from home.

So I rearranged my office/meditation room in order to get my tower closer to the phone jack. I removed the long phone extension. I removed the splitter. I used a known working phone cord.

Damn – still no joy.

On a lark, I reinstalled my original modem – the one I replaced a few months ago because it wouldn’t work.

That sucked. While trying to put the modem driver CD in, my Polaroid BurnMAX48 decided to crash my entire operating system. (This is after I spent about six minutes trying to get the tray to open with various small sharp objects.)

After a reboot, the CD-ROM worked fine, the “Windows found new hardware” wizard worked fine, and the installation went well.

Then I selected the new (er, old) modem in DUN and dialled up.

…and I’m connected at 44-motherfucking-K for the first time in months. I’ve been connected now for a whopping 6 minutes with no errors. What the flying fuck was the point of THIS whole exercise?

I’m sick of this desktop, btw. I want another laptop. Having to rearrange an entire room just to test another jack is absurd. Anybody wanna trade me a used laptop for a very slightly used 264MB/40GB CD-R CD-RW desktop, complete with two NIC cards, two USB cards, and two modems?

So I came in, got my sat card re-written, picked up my check, checked my email, blogged, caught up on Rants, had an impromptu meeting, and coughed a lot. Now I’m leaving. I think I’ll hit the bank, visit City Hall, pay my mortgage, and go home for a nap. NAP!
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In the past three days, I’ve been sleeping 16 hours to every 8 that I’m awake. My tonsils are still swollen and I sound like Fat Albert when I talk.

The good news is that my throat is no longer sore.

I’m sick. I stayed home yesterday; today I came in just to catch up a little but now am getting ready to go home again.

I caught this from Anna; I don’t know who she got it from but it’s a sore throat think with a little bit of snot and lots of general soreness. Waaah!