Gas is $1.29/gallon, just down the street.

That's crazy. I can't remember when gas was that cheap.

Maybe I was probably too young to drive, then.

Ever signed up for a Yahoo group? Did you get an invitation to join Asian Singles' Club of San Francisco from Jennifer? Did you know that Jennifer is a phantom Yahoo account and Asian Singles is Alex Chiu, he of the Rings of Immortality? Alex wants company, and is asking half the known world over for a potluck. If you missed your invitation (if you live in S.F., you probably got one), but you feel like giving Alex some food, and some attention: You don't have to be asian to join, just interested in asians. If you show up, he'll know you're with the group. Just don't ring the doorbell on the first floor.

Received: (from alexchiu@localhost) by cyberxxi.com

Hi Everyone, this is Jennifer Yu, President of Asian Singles' Club of San Francisco. ...OK. Everyone. We will meet at Alex's house for a pot luck.

Location: Alex's house

December 8th, Saturday. Show up at around 6 pm please.

Street: 1150 Plymouth Ave

Phone: 415 585 3825

Email: jennifer4yu@yahoo.com

Plymouth Ave is near City College of SF. Please check your map at Yahoo. Alex's house is near Ocean Ave. McDonald. I got people coming over for pot luck. Want to come? You will not be lost because it's a house. I will buy the paper plates and cups. You need to cook a dish and bring it. Remember to go up the stairs. 2nd floor. Don't ring the bell on the first floor.

So yesterday was my first big leaving-the-house outting since getting the post-Thanksgiving sickness. I hopped in my newly happy car and headed out to Target for some Power Puff Girls wrapping paper, and also some cats-dressed-up-in-Santa-suits paper (real cats. real suits. so tragic.). Mission accomplished, I went back to the car... And the car decided it didn't want to leave.

Nope, it was going to stay there; it preferred to be stuck in perma-park. The sun was out, the clouds were zipping around overhead casting fun surreal shadows, why would I want to leave?

I tried everything, but no dice. This, after the car's own three day convalescence. Feh.

Eventually I called the guy who diagnosed it last time this happened, and he came all the way out to El Cerrito to rescue us. Again: everyone should take their (Japanese) cars to Art's Automotive. Paul is pretty tall, so I took the top down and we disassembled the console right there in the Target parking lot, in what was turning into a bright, sunny, warm day. Two inquisitive brains and one leatherman later I was free, just as the first raindrop fell.

The car is back in the shop today, and I am back on the couch. At least, I should be...

For when you have way way way way way too much time on your hands: the paper motorcycle.

via another Jessica

And here it is, my Blogger Insider Interview, questions posed by Skattieboy,

26 Nov 2001:

Oscar Wilde: genius, madman, or both?
Both. Clearly a genius, he was just mad enough not to muzzle himself.

Which side of the bed do you sleep on?
The one easiest to escape from. Been awakened by major earthquakes
and fires one too many times, must have an easy exit plan.

Snow: lovely or a pain in the ass?
Rarely encountered, therefore lovely.

Top 5 hair bands of all time?
Hrm. Bending the genre:

NY Dolls. Television. Japan. Celebrity Skin. Specimen.

What’s your favorite black and white movie?

Man, that’s tough. I wouldn’t call that a genre, myself. Um...
Broadly: The Maltese Falcon.

What do you think about Starbucks and why?
Repulsive coffee, bewildering success with a repugnant business plan.
(and) I’m a coffee snob, and happily can walk to the original Peet’s from my house.

If you could have dinner with one historical figure, who would it be?
Michel de Montaigne

Do you like capers in your food

(alternately: have you ever HAD capers in your food?)?
They’re yummy in a lemon sauce. I’ve only had them twice.

Favorite holiday memory?

Getting snowed into a cabin in an overnight blizzard, tunnelling out and
building an icicle fort. Trudging miles to the enormous Safeway near the highway and finding nothing but Zima and one trampled loaf of white bread.

Ever own an action figure (as an adult)?
Oh sure. Nightmare Before Christmas and Star Trek TNG

How many cups of coffee to get you going in the morning?
I use a great big mug so it looks like I just have one serving.

How did you get where you are?
Searing vision, hope, and diligence in the face of not-so-favorable odds.

Where else might you have ended up?
Dead. Or bored.

Propose an alternate ending for “A.I.” and what you think
it would have added to the film.
I have so far avoided seeing it. Waiting for the DVD.

Would you rather be warm or cold when you go to bed?
For sleeping: cold. And it must be absolutely dark.

Now that those gawdawful pink slip parties are dead, we can forget the Web Economy Bullshit Generator. What this ruefully rational economy needs is the Giant Flounder Penis Mission Statement Generator.

Our friend Paul is a puzzlingly funny character. He's the brains behind the hypermysterious Seven Ducks (which follows from his genius decision to offer one duck, or seven, in the grand old screen saver, Confetti Factory). And now my newest genius funny-guy acquaintance presents the bulletproof version: of the sidebar ducks, notice, there are seven. Madness!

Spanish football = muy caliente!

John Ford, a Tennessee senator, needs to take a lesson from the LDS:

if you're going to have more than one family, you should tell everyone involved; otherwise, chaos ensues. God he's ugly. How did this mess come about in the first place? Duh: money.

Poor wife #1, her mom just died in September.

I hereby solemnly swear that, if this storm keeps up tomorrow, I will curl up and read the Hudsucker Proxy screenplay and watch Wings of Desire (which I've been saving for just such a {rainy} day).

It's not terribly fun watching movies alone. I can't wait til my pal Brigid gets laid off, so I can draw her into my would-be life of leisure. That would likely be my cue to start working again.

Also mighty palliative: the LOTR promo groovy glowing goblets from Burger King. You can buy them without soiling your arteries for a $0.16 surcharge.

Note: driving in the dark with sparkly rain in a newly powerful car is so fun it makes you forget about your headache. Whee! Ow.

My car and I are both recovered, hooray.

At least, I can breathe and walk and stand for a long time without feeling faint. But now I have a fricking full moon migraine. I have learned to manage them pretty well, but I'm so sick of this. I've tried everything to avoid this - experimenting with this or that, substance or behavior - and always I find myself back on the same old cycle, and the day before a full moon the upper right quadrant of my head is not a nice place to be. It used to be worse; it used to be more than monthly.

And now I have to go out in the cold dark windy world to pick up my car. Argh.

Fumbling for feverfew...

Hooray! The Monsters, Inc. "Charades" trailer is up! (go there, click on "Charades.") This was one of my favorite projects, but I never saw the finished product. It's fabulous!

I'm interviewing Skattieboy for the Blogger Insider project. Big fun!

Probing questions, puzzling answers coming on Friday. Watch this space.

Take the Guardian Spelling Quiz for a big humility check. 6 out of 8 = silver star. Whew. Snoot label still adhering.

What's this one got against Danger Mouse?

I kind of love that s/he worships a lighthouse that sits off in space, shining constant light on North America. Lighthouses are beacons to be avoided, right? Either it's warning the continent away from itself, or lighting it up to warn passersby to steer clear. Also I'm not getting the "prosituton is hoarrible" pun. Hoar = old, prostitution = oldest profession... nothing ironic there. Thanks to HOUSEbannoy for making me look.

Bad news for Bau Chon.

Having rejected the car culture for most of my life, I am now fully entrenched. My car is officially an extension of myself. We are both weak and sniffly, barely able to walk. I am relegated to the comfiest couch known to man, where decongestants, echinacea, and a big sleepy cat are being applied. The car is at best garage on the planet, getting new spark plug leads plus a new bushing and gear shift. These cures will require a sleepover for the car, and a nice long nap for me. Happily, neither of these will be very expensive - I don't have work to miss, and Art's is freakishly fair in their pricing.

I hate being sick. Bleah.

We've driven 598 miles in the past 56 hours, in the marathon that is Thanksgiving With Both Families.

It's amazing what driving, eating, drinking, boisterous visiting with cousins/iuxta siblings, driving, packing, driving, playing with babies, chilling with teenagers, eating, extended family visiting, trying to sleeping, spontaneous huge lunch with random drop-in guests, watching Brendan build network, and driving can take out of you.

No more driving. I'm going to walk everywhere for the next week.

After I ditch this sore throat.

Such psychic dissonance when you read someone who pretty much speaks for you.

Who wants to say "What he said!" But some just say it so well. For intance, Jon Carroll:

I believe in diversity of opinion. It's a belief that has fallen on hard times.

We have not earned the weary joy that comes with frontline survival.

The pornography of war, still legal in every state.

I wonder how many newspapers pulled today's awesome Thanksgiving Boondocks.

All Your Tourist Guy Are Belong To Us

It's official: the Tourist Guy has finally gone the way of all overplayed web memes.

Un-American activities at the Houston Art Car Museum:

Houston FBI spokesman Bob Doguim says the visit was no witch-hunt but rather a response to Attorney General John Ashcroft's request that Americans be especially vigilant of suspicious behavior.

"I said, 'There's really nothing anti-American about self-expression, right?' " and the agents replied with a "kind of smirk," she says. Huanca got business cards identifying them as FBI and Secret Service. "They wrote my name down; they asked me where I went to school and why I worked there," says Huanca, a student at the University of Houston. "And they asked me if my parents knew I worked in a place like this..."

When I was a precocious youth, I used to tell those that asked that I was 7 years older than I was: my 15th birthday party was huge, with most celebrating my 22nd. Only a select few who were not family knew the truth; I hated when people made assumptions based on my age. Today, people think I'm 7-8 years younger than I am. They make similar sets of assumptions, but, somehow, I mind less.

This freaks me out, though: why would someone want to relive high school at age 32? Wasn't it bad enough the first time? And why did she nearly fail Drama? Clearly she played at least one role pretty well.

But still, this is pretty funny:

Take the Affliction Test Today!

'Cause, um, yeah:

I'm having a very hard time getting over this, even though it makes me wince.

It looks like it hurts.

(by way of Phineas, who doesn't have time to play.)

Chris is asking the hard questions over at NotMyDesk. Start at the bottom with 11/19, work your way up. Do not eat or drink while reading: explosive laughter may occur, resulting in a big mess on your monitor.

The fresh corpse, #15, is up! I was called in to pinch hit for the finisher (slice #5). I was all worried that I would be all out of sync with the rest, but we were all pretty much on the same wavelength. So odd.

Curiouser and curiouser... with traveling barnyard pals.

"GreenDividend check each year to every child and adult

from the natural resource royalty investments in alternatives

2001 Alaska  a potential national

Permanent Fund Dividend resource dividend to start at

$1850 to every child and adult $2000 to everyone in America"

The site goes on and on, sounding like Frank Chu, except using words found in common usage. And it links to me.

My friend Brigid recently rescued a kitten. His name is Simon, but his nickname, Rotten, seems to be sticking pretty well. I call him Mr. Lydon. Or I will when he grows up a little. Anyway, Simon is very shy, but so so cute.

The Alpha Spider is growing huge on a steady diet of bees.

DSL was down all day today, second time this week. Feh. The ISP is two blocks away - I thought it'd be keen to support the small local merchant - so I tried strolling up there to poke them into updating their system status hotline, but they're closed on weekends. And they just laid off their customer service staff. It took a few hours' research to even figure out who our actual ISP is these days: after several rounds of acquisitions and asset purchases, it turns out we're back to being LMI customers. While it's nice that the bouncing ball that is our account landed locally, I have to wonder if it's worth it. Not like there's a more reliable alternative. Is there?

Accucast's copywriters crack me up. Even if the weather is going to be completely monotonous, all week, they'll come up with creative ways to say "partly cloudy" over and over again, in snappy upbeat phrases. Today, for instance, is "turning out sunny," and tonight is expected to be "clear and delightful." Which just makes you want to go out and play. I'm even looking forward to Thursday, when there will be "Lots of clouds with nothing more than a shower." Nothing more than a shower. It sounds... pleasant.

"...sheep can recognize – and be attracted to – other sheep, as well as individual humans. That memory lasts up to 800 days..."

"...they probably experience some degree of emotion and could even be capable of conscious thought."

They can probably also remember cheap lingerie. This guy should bring a mask next time, because she's still pissed.

"The Economist apologises for any inconvenience."

More trading cards for young patriots: collect them all!

Heaven is a good place, come at least once.

Wine is good, chicks are cute!

Whither the Reuters editor?

Great photograph. Terrible grammar.

I got The Call in the wee hours of last night: someone was needed to finish off an exquisite corpse. I had recently volunteered my idle hands, and another artist disappeared rather suddenly. I promise there was no foul play, but I do so love a tight deadline.

I'm giddy with anticipation: I don't know any of the folks that contributed (many other participants seem well acquainted), and I'm finishing the collective piece. Can't wait to see what we were thinking.

Residents said music - banned by the Taleban - was broadcast on Kabul radio for the first time in five years.

"You can celebrate this great victory," a female announcer told residents - another novelty in a city where women have been banned from most work and education since 1996.

"My friends always said I had an incredibly long tongue - I could make lots of money with it one day," said Annika.

Thank you, thank you, Ernie.

I moved one giant step closer to housewifery this weekend, when I decided it would be a good idea to cover my gigantic desk in black marble contact paper. It was, absolutely, my desk rocks so hard right now, it is the sexiest desk in creation. But still: that was an embarrassingly Martha Stewartesque maneuver. Pixar needs to call, with a script or production coordinator role, before I start making napkin holders from my old jewelry or something.

My cat gets very excited when it rains. He patrols his territory, making sure everything is under control. He keeps his eye on every raindrop, readying against heavy incursions. A light rain pleases him: he takes on a brave posture, sets out into the elements to establish his presence in this slightly changed milieu. He calls to me to follow him out into the yard - he likes to share his domain with me - to just sit and watch the rain with him.

Has everyone seen the Genesis project? As we have come to expect of bulletproofpunk products, it is priceless.

Best closing sentence, ever: "...My lightning ball has your name all the fuck over it."

"Kids need to understand that the President (and his team) will keep them safe and that evil-doers will be punished. Our cards deliver the details in a medium with which they are familiar and comfortable.

Each pack contains 7 premium quality trading cards and 1 sticker featuring flags and patriotic designs."

"I never thought I'd be giving an orang-utan a hand job every morning," he said somewhat ruefully.

SomethingAwful vs. Scientology: sassy legal action, indeed.

My special signed copy of Macros2000 #7 arrived in yesterday's mail, woohoo! Every single paragraph makes me weep with laughter (but that could be a personal problem). And, oh look: I'd forgotten that I was a contributor. Hey keen! Even more reason for you to go order a copy, right away.

Color me shocked: I thought Squeeze broke up 10 years ago.

Vector Lounge, for endless time-killing art. Must... stop... spanking the monkey... Best speed so far: 170mph. Clearly I need more practice.

I really need to get back to work soon.

Peeking through my logs this morning, I see I'm getting referrals from www.sexranks.com/amazing. I really don't get it: not only is there no porn here, their link points to my front page, where there's nothing even remotely provocative. Come to think of it, there's nothing here at all for the voyeur. I keep meaning to put up some identifying photos on the "about" page, but for now you'd have to dig pretty deep. And now that I've got sex, voyeur, photos, and deep all in one posting, I can expect some DSRs.

The obvious, and most amusing, thing to do when this sort of situation presents itself: play it out. Go to www.sexranks.com/amazing, hit refresh 'til peacedividend turns up, and vote.

Decided it would be more fun to be out, with a camera, in the highly charged, heavily patrolled world than to sit at home. It's funny what effect the tiniest suggestion of calamity, amplified through official acknowledgement and endless repetition, can have. You notice details that are usually easily brushed off: the density of cars along the marina, and the ratio of those parked to go fishing to those with "dates;" the really pretty dramatic increase in asshole driving behavior; but mostly "Oooh, look the fog is pouring in through the Golden Gate; it's really early today. Hey, that's weird. I've never seen the fog climb up hills like that. It's wafting right over Alcatraz, too. Maybe... it's not fog!" But you're cool, you're prepared for anything: earthquakes, firestorms, honestly terrorist attacks are the least of our worries. Just to test your sense of humor, then, two Ryder trucks cut you off at the toll plaza and just sit there... and sit there...

So the plan for noodles at that new yummy dive on Haight St. turns into sangria, and plenty of it, at Cha Cha Cha.

I'm surprised every time I catch the Alpha Spider sleeping. One doesn't often think of such creatures as things that sleep; they're rarely anthropomorphized at all. Not only does this one sleep, he sleeps in a bed. Today he's tucked into a cluster of jasmine leaves. It's not as cute as when he curled up in a blossom, but he's far too big for that now.

So odd: Beale St. - a 3 lane, one way street south of Market that runs under and leads to the Bay Bridge - is closed indefinitely, for security. Well, that's one measurably good reason (the less concrete are myriad) for turning down that eTrade job: the office was right under the bridge, on that now even more inaccessible block of Beale. This whole blowing-up-of-bridges threat is being taken very seriously.

Better than arson, I guess, as a Midwestern teenage pastime. But I dunno:

"After a while, normal piercings didn't do anything to me," he said. "I'm taking it to the next level." He also bears... a brand burned into his chest that reads: "Tribal."

And he's definitely going to Burning Man next year. People of Wisconsin: please do not give this child any more attention.

Disproving the addage that "speed kills:" it's not the drugs, its the music.

That supergenius of sublime smartassery over at Cardhouse has released MACROS #7. Get it while it's hot. Except that it will be hot for, like, ever. This is timeless stuff. Come on, now, this is a guy who got me to go to Burning Man long after I'd become a cranky veteran; that's worth something. Be like the cool kids and send Cardhouse a dollar. No, really. Thank me later.

The mostly utter quiet of last night extended into the morning, as we woke to find everything shrouded in a blanket of fog. It seemed to disipate only feet above the ground, and everything glistened in the dampened light. Especially the Alpha Spider's web .

I went to check on him just now, and HE CAUGHT A BEE! If you've ever wanted to see a gigantic garden spider ingest a big mean looking bee, well, you know I took plenty of photos.

In this time of general uptightness, Berkeley came through once again: trick or treaters were on the streets last night. At least, they were on our street. Common knowledge has it that if costumed children are traipsing about anywhere, they’ll be doing it at my house. The kids came through. Last year, we had ~100. This year, 37. Still, that’s a pretty good showing. We were visited by:

1 bat

1 cat

2 devils

1 puppy

2 clowns

1 princess

1 alien/zombie

1 mad scientist

1 Scream villain

1 ninja (6 yr. old girl)

1 robot, covered in LEDs

3 hillbillies (which I just don’t understand.)

2 witches (one an 8 year old “goth in training”)

3 vampires (all ~9 years old: 2 boys with ok effort, one girl, immaculate.)

1 housewife (buddy of the vampire girl. Also a totally superior costume.)

1 kitten (2 years old, sparkly red shoes, uttered her very first “Trick or treat!” just for me!)

1 dead guy (stake through heart, wearing a suit)

1 sweaty guy (wearing someone’s VW mechanic gear)

1 politician (gold dollar sign medallions over wifebeater with $$$ scrawls)

(These last three tried to get invited in, asked for drinks or maybe some of my wine. They were cute. Nikki was ready to invite them in. They were about 10.)

1 hockey mask wearing kid

1 raver (some glitter make-up, obviously tripping)

3 stoner sluts (well, they were high, and they were wearing ill-fitting lingerie over their jeans)

6 kids without themes, from the family around the corner who always takes our recycling. Whatever. Load up, kids.

Everyone was very polite, wouldn’t take more than one piece of candy each. Except for the stoned teenagers, who took all the Snickers. All in all, it was a good night.