Phew. Got all that html stuff out the way for the chap in Florida. Finished it at about 6 in the morning, then I slept until lunchtime. So what. It's Saturday.

Bit annoyed about the wedding reception my dad put on at his place. I was given to understand it was last weekend but it turned out to be today. James was asked to help out with the spit roast, nobody was else from this household was even told about it. Last time dad's friends put on a reception, I was invited to help out with serving the drinks and meals and they offered me $50 for the night. (This was 20 years ago and $50 was huge back then.) Anyway, they were so impressed with me, they gave me $100.

This time, I don't even get an invitatation to help out, not a word one way or the other. I think I know why though. James sat opposite dad's new g/f when he intro'd her to the family and he had no choice but be nice to her. I didn't and it must have been pretty clear from the outset that the new g/f and me were of like mind, but at opposite ends of the reality spectrum. Unless I'm listening to her talking about her native country as she was growing up, there just isn't going to be common ground for conversation. Dad seems to be avoiding us now anyway. Haven't heard boo from him for 2 weeks since I rang him asking if he was coming up.

Anyway, now that I've finished what I set out to do with that html stuff, I have time to turn my own attention to the stuff I wanted to do before I got sidetracked. Those lovely people at Batcave finally got my bit of e-space back up and running, even though as of two days ago I still couldn't log in to update it. So much for a weekend worth of upgrading everything, I've been out of the smoke for a whole week. Probably a good thing, but the trouble is when you get an idea you want to put somewhere specific and circumstances prevent that, it's a bitch trying to resurrect the idea when it's all fixed again. The idea goes cold in the interim. The other thing I've got cooking is another project which looks like it might have to be one of those efforts best tackled a bit at a time but on a very regular basis rather than getting around to it when I feel like it.

I told you about it all the other day and the good thing about bloggery is it's all on sort of permanent record - unless I decide to cheat, which sort of defeats the purpose of blogging.

It's just a shame an idea occurred to me earlier tonight but I wasn't near enough to the machine to add it to the draft currently in existence and I had another of those "Oh God, where's my pen?" moments. I have more than thirty notepads lying around all over my house because if I can't get to the puter to capture the moment, I write it down. A notepad costs about 40 cents and mine are just littered with some of the most fantastic little snippets capturing whatever thought I had when I wrote them, and today I spent 20 minutes slapping my pockets looking for a damn pad or a pen and I was bereft. I felt so naked and vulnerable, like a thief had just made off with my pants. People who don't have a writing bug have no idea what those who do are apt to experience - and at the worst possible times.

Why do I have all these notepads lying around the house? Because I always forget to put at least one in the car or one in my pocket or backpack and that means buying another one. I'd feel sorry for the trees but I don't do that sort of thing. Well, not often anyway.

Don't buy yourself a cocker spaniel. My cocker spaniel is obsessed with food, even by cocker spaniel standards. He sits there and stares expecting food every waking moment of his life. He's not fat but if he had his way, he'd be a hairy balloon. He sits and shakes when he believes it's time for him to have a feed. Then he starts barking until he gets what he wants. He's a furry telemarketer without the telephone, always getting exhuberant at dinner time and not giving up until everyone's gone to bed. Then he spends 20 minutes sniffing the floor and jumping up wherever there may be a single molecule of something edible. He has been staring me out non-stop for the last 3 hours and I'm ready to shove the little bastard in the oven.

Jump on the machine and blurt because I happen to be in the mood to do so and spend the next however long in pitched psychological battle with the bloody dog. If you're really really lucky, all those thoughts I was having before this series of eerily predictable events robbed me of the urge to write will deposit themselves back into my cerebrum somewhere and I'll get to enjoy them all tomorrow. You just get to read them.

(Time to compose this entry: 84mins.)