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12/02/2001 - 12/08/2001
12/09/2001 - 12/15/2001
12/16/2001 - 12/22/2001
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Saturday, April 21, 2001

What a weird freaky horrorshow dream. I wasn't even doing anything that would cause such a dream, all I was doing was lying in bed sort of late on a Saturday (well, late for me) morning, totally enjoying listening to the plethora of birds sqwaking outside with the window cracked, listening to the Saturday morning talk shows on the radio (a doctor show and Car Talk), lazily dozing in and out of sleep. But the dream was something else: I must have been watching TV or something, and they showed emergency rescue people with a stretcher carrying two men together on a "double stretcher". One of the men was lying down, and the other had a weirdly shaped body with a big beer gut that sort of was high up on his belly area. He was sitting up in the stretcher and protesting, "I can't do that," he told the emergency people, "that would give me a heart attack." Then as they wheeled them away, the camera angle showed that they were attached...they were Siamese Twins. But their attachment was bizarre...the attachment ran along their shoulder, and at the top of their shoulders was hair, similar to the hair on the top of their head, like it was all one attached ridge, head, shoulder...freaky. Then they started to show people inside a hospital, more Siamese Twins, even though they didn't all seem attached, but they were identical and in the same room. One of the individuals in a twin pairing was being showcased, and the camera focused on his face. He looked like minutes from death, he had tubes up his nose, he had red all around the skin around his eyes, he had crusty blood coming out of his nose and mouth, and his skin was very pale. Then I woke up. Disturbing.
posted by Ann-S-Thesia at 9:28 AM || link it email me



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Friday, April 20, 2001

The dream was so chopped up and fragmented last night, I wouldn't even know where to begin to describe it. I think there was a bit of a sexual nature to it, but that's all I can recall. I think it was getting mixed up with the radio broadcast too.
posted by Ann-S-Thesia at 11:59 AM || link it email me



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Thursday, April 19, 2001

Looked at the official website for The Lone Gunmen today. What a cool use of Flash! Mouse over the Ramones poster (Langley wears a Ramones tee frequently on the show...I knew he was cool from the start) and it says "We'll miss you, Joey" and a cig lighter burns...awwwww!!!!!"
posted by Ann-S-Thesia at 4:53 PM || link it email me


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The vet called us last night. Yes, Natasha has the early stages of kidney disease. We will have to start feeding her a prescription diet which is low-protein. Keeping her from dehydrating is a problem, and I honestly do not see Natasha drinking from the pet water bowls anymore. She used to drink from the toilets (this may sound gross, but anyone who has had several pets can attest to this behavior, which obviously isn't gross to the animal), and a while back she liked to lap up the water residue in the bathtub after we showered. I don't see her do either of those much. But last night and this morning we tried giving her soft pet food mixed with water to make a thin gravy, and she does like that, fortunately. There is nothing that can be done for cats with kidney disease...it cannot be stopped from progressing short of a kidney transplant, but I'm not sure how many people would want that done on a 15 1/2-year old cat, even if cost wasn't an issue. The only thing that we can do is enjoy her as much as we can in her final time she has with us.

Natasha is the first cat that I got with Stan, the first cat I had on my own. She symbolized that wonderful turn of events after we got out of bad rental situations and into a better one that allowed cats. She symbolized an upturn in our lives.

I told Stan yesterday that I guess it's impossible to have five healthy pets all at once...too much to ask for. Last night we played a game with the pug that we hadn't played for some time. We tossed lightweight fuzzy pom poms at his face. He'd bap at them and sometimes catch them in his mouth. Then he'd walk around with them and growl under his breath at Plato, tormenting and teasing him with them. I took a few pictures...if I get time I'll put them online. We also trimmed his nails while Tim was over, showing Tim how his favorite dog in the world turns from sweet, adoring Hieronymus into evil, head spinning, growling pug from hell. After his accident, it was incredibly easy to trim his nails. Now, it's extremely difficult again. I'm glad.
posted by Ann-S-Thesia at 10:17 AM || link it email me


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Dream: I think Stan and I had a fight...I can't remember too much of it, but it caused me to be late to "class" or "work" or somewhere that I had to be at a specific time. I think this part of the dream took place in the "town that I made up for all my dreams" otherwise known as The Bizarro Fort Collins. It was on the northwest side of town, where some nice homes were, but there was a campus, and I couldn't figure out if it was a university, a tech college or a church or something. Anyway, I was driving on this campus looking for parking and couldn't find any. The streets were confusing, and it was also confusing whether some streets were for cars or only bicycles. I finally was able to park the car, but had to haul a strange little white miniature sofa with me. It was raining. I finally got to one building, and there were people waiting in the entrance. I recognized a few people from my former job at Impressions, so I figured they were waiting for the same class I was. Then I guess someone unlocked a door to a classroom, and I went in with the other people. We all sat around in a circle, some on furniture that they, like myself, brought themselves. The classroom was quite noisy and the instructor was asking questions I didn't know the answer to. I pretended to hide behind papers so that she wouldn't call on me. Then Stan came into the class too. He was late, however, and I was wondering if he would get in trouble. I think the dream also took place near the church my parents go to in the real Fort Collins...that area of town, but I can't remember it too well.
posted by Ann-S-Thesia at 8:56 AM || link it email me



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Wednesday, April 18, 2001

I can't work on anything. Stan is making too much noise working on the exterior of the house and I can't concentrate. We tried calling about Natasha's bloodwork, and they told us the vet would call us back...not a good sign. I hate this waiting, this limbo. I'm having trouble breathing due to some allergy or something. This is not helping. I hate April.
posted by Ann-S-Thesia at 12:35 PM || link it email me


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I can't remember this part of my dream too well, but Langley from The Lone Gunmen and Fox Mulder from The X-Files were in it. I can't remember if I was in a romantic situation with Langley or not, but I do remember I was crushing really bad on Mulder. I do remember talking to him, and he was talking about tension on the set of the X-Files. I was trying to get more information out of him, who was in conflict, but he wouldn't tell me. I was trying to sneak it out of him in various ways I could, but to no avail. Then I remember I was descending some stairs...long sets of stairs outside and there was snow on them. I found the quickest way of locomotion was sliding down the snowcovered stairs on my butt. I passed up a woman about 55 or so...she was wearing pink winter outer clothing, and wasn't walking very quickly. Then when I couldn't slide down the stairs anymore due to no snow padding, I began walking down, but then that woman started coming up behind me really quickly, and I was afraid once she caught up to me she'd be really mad because I passed her before.
posted by Ann-S-Thesia at 9:27 AM || link it email me



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Tuesday, April 17, 2001

I find it strange that the big thing now is to compare blogs and online diaries to the commercialized product of network television's so-called "reality TV." First of all, although I only started officially "blogging" in November of 2000, I've had a manually-updated online "what's new" editorial on my sites since early 1998, which at first started out as updates to my graphic offerings and eventually turned into a full blown diary. This by far predated "Survivor" and that rot. (Although admittedly, the predecessor to Survivor, MTV's "The Real World" had been doing it for many years before) I pulled my online journal in February of 2000 amidst the burgeoning blogger hysteria. At that time in my life, I just had no feelings of wishing to share my thoughts and life anymore. But after going more than half a year without being able to express my verbal and personal side, I felt words welling up under my skin, about to erupt and cause festering lesions unless I lanced my blogging boil, hence EyeBlog. But second and most importantly, I find it most strange to compare a form of self-expression by real people to something that is manufactured by the media, i.e., "Survivor" and those other surreality-based* TV shows.

One would have to get me kicking and screaming to watch any of those. The word "repulsed" does not do service to my feelings about them. Hence, that is why I can only come up with one show, i.e., "Survivor" of which to use as an example, because that is the only example that I know by name. However, I am aware that there is an invention called the television, and on this television in the year 2001 they show (un)reality based TV shows. But that's all I know. I plead ignorance to most of it. I have no idea how scripted any of those shows are or aren't, but how spontaneous can it be, really? It's on TV--you know certain things have been edited out. The people were not chosen at random from a faceless demographic sample; they were chosen because they looked good on TV, well, at least the producers perceived them as looking good to Joe Q. American...most of them look like dorks to me, Jimmy. (Hey, that was my 2nd subtle "Pulp Fiction" reference in this post...did you catch my 1st?)

What can a poor boy do except to sing for a rock and roll band?

And in my constant search to make meaning of all of this in relationship to rock and roll history, here goes: Reality has always existed...it's time we take it out of the hands of big business and put it back on the streets, or cyber-highway if you will. Reality is not about manufacturing an island where a bunch of pretty boys and models hang out and get to vote against eachother. Reality is how I live my life which is as far away from tropical paradise as you can get. Reality is how the hell am I going to pay for another car breakdown when I'm not getting work in. Reality might be another blogger's dealing with a health crisis, or someone expecting a child and what they're going through. Blogs are personal perspectives and opinion from varying and unpopular views. It's someone's truth, not yours, but someone's. You can't manufacture that stuff and put a pretty face on it. You can't script it or stage it or edit out the boring or obscene parts...and there is no winner and no one takes home a million dollars.

Welcome to Punk Rock 101.

Blogs are the theses nailed to the church door at Wittenburg. We are the outcome of a communication revolution. We are the new heretics. Words no longer belong to the elite editorial clergy and venerable profitable published pundits. The spotlight is no longer on the manufactured television media monopoly...it is now on the voiceless. You don't need a soundstage or big media production studio to create a blog...all you need is to play your computer in your basement or garage.

We're a garage blog.

*As a matter of fact, my favorite show on TV right now is quite surreal--The Lone Gunmen. It's also quite funny and blatantly not real. I have no objection to surrealism on TV. My favorite TV show of all time, Twin Peaks, was the most surreal piece of prime time ever. What I object to is something that's pretending to be "real," when it blatantly isn't. If one watches that thinking it is indeed real, they are being swindled. If one watches it knowing full well it is not real, then I ask, "why?" when there are better shows around that are also not real that are much better written and scripted. Is it just because it's "there?" Maybe it's best to look elsewhere. In high school my friends listened to Peter Frampton. It gagged me. I had to search elsewhere for my music. I couldn't listen to something just because it was on the radio. Thank goodness my dissatisfaction with radio saturation led me to discover both rock and roll past and future, because 70s schlock just wasn't where it was at.
posted by Ann-S-Thesia at 10:50 AM || link it email me


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I think the dawg and I have attained honorary Canadian status, eh?
posted by Ann-S-Thesia at 8:44 AM || link it email me


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Dream: I was coming out of a public building with Stan and my parents. My feet hurt really bad and I could barely walk, so I had to hurl myself against a side railing and use that to support myself. The entrance to the building was on a slope, and there was a bunch of greenery...shrubbery, trees, plants, etc. along the border. I know I was discussing something with the people I was with, but I can't remember much else.
posted by Ann-S-Thesia at 7:53 AM || link it email me



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Monday, April 16, 2001

I don't know why I never frequent Salon that much, maybe I just forget. I decided to take a look today, and was met with the sad news that Joey Ramone died of lymphoma on Sunday. What a shock. I didn't even know he was sick.
posted by Ann-S-Thesia at 10:40 PM || link it email me


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One of my all-time favorite movies is Repo Man. One of my favorite parts in it is when the mad physicist is phoning Leyla from a phone booth and says, "I can't understand you, I'm using a scrambler." I feel like that often, especially with some emails I get. I sure hope they aren't expecting a reply, because, well, last time I checked, I couldn't find a descrambler in any of the computer supply catalogs.

.:.:.:.:.:.

I am not making this up. Yesterday, Sunday, April 15, 2001, I printed out a sample of a project on my inkjet that I'm working on for a client. There was some old paper in the printer that I was recycling from the used paper bin. I didn't give it much thought. Later that day, I picked up the printed sample and turned it over. There was some printing on it from another time. I noticed a date. I looked at it. What did it say? Saturday, April 15, 2000. How weird is that?
posted by Ann-S-Thesia at 10:12 PM || link it email me


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From the "Why do I even bother?" dept.:

Person A owns a site that is devoted to fonts with samples of what many fonts look like. Naturally because of legal restrictions, not all of the font examples on Person A's site are downloadable, it's more of an informational site on fonts, not a font archive. They use my graphics and have a link back button to me. Person B comes along and sees my link, goes to my site, then emails me a letter wanting me to send them fonts because they bought an upgrade to Product C that requires Fonts D and E on their system which they do not have. They want me to email them the fonts! Um...wow. Neither am I associated with Product C, nor do I even own it, nor is Person A connected with Product C, nor am I connected with Person A other than the fact she is an occasional customer who bought and used my graphics on her site. But I thought, hey, I'll be responsive and send Person B an email telling them they need to contact the company that makes Product C. To top it off, the email never makes it to them....it gets returned to me because their free account inbox was full. Aaaargh! Why do I even bother?
posted by Ann-S-Thesia at 1:10 PM || link it email me


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A bunch of short dreams because I kept waking up and each time I went back to sleep I dreamed all over again:

1. I was with someone and we went into a building that was like one of those visitor centers in national parks, but it was supposed to be a nursing home. We were there to scope out the place and get rates on elderly day care, but it was more like we were asking about boarding dogs because it was just for temporary placement. The place was run by Native Americans...it was like an offshoot of one of those gambling casinos. I was noticing how everything was made out of wood and commented about it. One of the women who was talking to us showed us some weird room below the floor that contained a huge wooden table and chairs.

2. I had bicycle that had a front fender that wasn't made out of flat metal, instead it was round and cylindrical and pointed, like a rocket. It broke and Stan told me it was made out of paper mache. I looked at it and it looked like it was made out of chocolate, but when I examined it closely, I could see the paper mache inside of the chocolate. I was wondering how I could repair it.

3. I had two aquariums full of newts, and their water was really cloudy, even though (IRL) Stan had just recently changed their aquarium. It looked like they were having trouble breathign, but their gasps for breath made them look more like large mouth bass than newts. I wanted to take them out of the aquariums and put them in an old one that didn't have any water.

4. My breasts were weirdly shaped, like small, thick feet.

5. I wanted to go to some museum or movie or something, but Stan still wanted to work on the house outside, but it looked like rain, so I was hoping that would persuade him to go. Then we were in the car in some weird suburban area of town and there were all these large breed dogs running around. There was one collie that had its hair cut like a poodle, and those pom pom things made it look like it had tumors.

Wow, that was exhaustive. I do not feel rested.
posted by Ann-S-Thesia at 9:35 AM || link it email me



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Sunday, April 15, 2001

I don't know whether to be amused, honored, insulted, or frightened that I am the only site that came up for this search..

Watched VH1's Behind the Music on Billy Idol, just because the X-Files weren't on tonight, and I saw the preview of it last week and he looked so weird. There's someone who definitely didn't age well. Funny how cute young people turn funny looking when they get old. Billy's problem? Small nose. I definitely think a large proboscis helps in the aging process because a big nose goes better with an older looking face, in my not so humble opinion. If indeed this hypothesis is true, Stan and I have nothing to worry about.

On the other hand, after the show was over, I was flicking through the channels and came across this very very odd Catholic Nun show (this is real, I am not making it up)...Mother Angelica on one of those religious channels or something. I just had to watch it for a few minutes because it was outrageously funny in a not on purpose sort of way. The audience was laughing at Mother Angelica's commentary, although I'm positive they weren't laughing for the same reason we were. Somehow I don't think Mother Angelica is necessarily sanctioned by The Catholic Church, but then what do I know? Stan and I recorded it on the end of a tape of the Lone Gunmen we made for Tim when he couldn't watch it one night...he's in for a big surprise, heh heh. Mother Angelica had a gigantic proboscis. And, well, time has not been kind to Mother Angelica either.

There goes that theory.
posted by Ann-S-Thesia at 9:50 PM || link it email me


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I'm trying to get a mental image of William S. Burroughs shopping at The Gap, and it's just not working. Anyway, before I prematurely posted last time due to my rage against the Sound Money machine, I also meant to add that there's a show on before that one, at 7 am on Sundays. For some reason, I'm rarely ever awake at 7 am on Sundays. 5 am to listen to the BBC? Yes. 6 am to listen to the child advice show (another program so appropo to my lifestyle)? Yes. 8 am to listen to Sound Money? Yes. But not 7 am. Don't ask...I have a weird biological schedule that's interrupted by Stan's oft early work shift. The program at 7 am is about computers, and because I'm so rarely awake at that hour, I don't even know the name of it. But it's quite good, and the reason is that it's not a bunch of geekspeak, but it's put into many perspectives of culture, history, etc. And I always sleep through it! Just as on weekday mornings I always sleep through the most interesting Tom Clark interviews, and wake up to the boring or unsettling ones. I wonder how much of the radio influences my dreams. Ever sleep with music on and the song totally mutates and surrounds you and it sounds wonderful, and you hear things that you never heard before, or you can sort of predict how the music will progress even if you never heard it before? I miss that. We don't have a boom box with a cd player in the bedroom anymore...it got moved to the computer room.
posted by Ann-S-Thesia at 10:25 AM || link it email me


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Hard to explain dream. Stan was lying on a quilt, but it was like he was floating on water. The quilt, instead of being made up of squares, was made up of stripes, sort of like my paintings of late. I know there was more to it, but it's not floating to the surface of my consciousness. I was dreaming it when that hideous "Sound Money" program was on the radio. That show drives me nuts. Not only does it make me feel like a complete failure because I have no investments or funds or any of that, but its attitude is assinine in their invention of the "Bohemian Capitalist" spokesmoron. Shyeaaaah! Talk about *oxy*morons. Today they were talking about how to stop from getting into debt, and she says something like, "My way of preventing debt is to stop visiting www.gap.com." (Picture Malibu Stacey from The Simpsons) Deliver me from suburban bimbos! They should hire me as their Bohemian Capitalist. (Well, at least I'm a bohemian, so I'm halfway there). But you know if I gave advice, most of the people out there wouldn't be able to hack it. How can that show stay on Wisconsin Public Radio without any objection when so many (ok, I'm trying to channel Garrison Keilor to give me a word for humorless northern midwestern types, but we're just not on the same wavelength)...allright, humorless northern midwestern types are all up in arms about Click and Clack (Car Talk)? At least Click and Clack are FUNNY and they don't take themselves that seriously, but Sound Money is trying to give real advice about money management in the guise of this Bohemian Capitalist who is obviously a Fraud because no self-respecting Bohemian shops at The Gap fer crying out loud. Sheesh.
posted by Ann-S-Thesia at 10:03 AM || link it email me




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Copyright 1996-2001 Ann Stretton. All Rights Reserved. No part of this web log may be copied or reproduced, however text may be quoted if a link is given in return. Permission is not given under any circumstances to use any of the graphics or art on this site, however If you ask first, I may grant permission at my discretion. Please check the link above to my Ann-S-Thesia site for web graphics if that is what you need.