Installing Drupal 7 for a project, received a 500 Server configuration error.

Looking in the Apache error log, I saw the error:

[Wed Jan 12 19:40:24 2011] [alert] [client xxx.xxx.xxx.xxx] /var/www/httpdocs/.htaccess: Option Multiviews not allowed here

Turns out, in the apache2 config file, the following is not sufficient in the Directory section:

AllowOverride Options FileInfo AuthConfig Limit Indexes

In particular, the MultiViews option is needed:

AllowOverride Options=All,MultiViews FileInfo AuthConfig Limit Indexes

Day two of staying put, and I'm disappointed.

I'm disappointed in my lack of progress on my own projects: I haven't managed tow work at all on my stuff.

I'm disappointed in my lack of progress on my client work: I've been working nearly non-stop on this one rewrite to fix a large systems design flaw, and haven't been able to finish it. It's blocking everything else.

I'm disappointed in my lack of exercise: I sat for a week driving across the country and haven't managed to get going yet. I've been standing instead of sitting much of the last two days, but it's still not enough. I ache to play ultimate, to run until my legs are exhausted and my lungs hurt and my shoulders cry for me to stop. We managed two walks around the block, which is more than zero, but too little to be healthy. I'm going to pull out the DVDs tomorrow, see if that helps.

I'm disappointed in my lack of infrastructure progress: I still don't have a Canadian phone, or a good way to access my funds. I haven't found a place for next week, and I'm starting to feel nervous about it. I don't have a good place to work, and worry I'm not being nearly productive enough.

I'm disappointed that I haven't sat down and just thought about things. I have a bottle of whiskey and enough disk space to write the next American novel, and yet, I worry about going into those dark places where self doubt, self incrimination, self hatred sit; where memories I've tucked away rest in dusty corners just waiting to be brought out and examined, analyzed and reviewed.

I'm disappointed I haven't caught up with my trip. Driving across country with Andy, Paul, Jessica and Jonathan was an incredible experience, and it's starting to fade. I haven't posted my pictures yet, either.

I'm full of disappointments when this is a time to be excited about changes.

Today was mostly working on client work. Jonathan and I went for a walk around the block around lunch time, and again when his kids came home from school. Running around the block was awesome fun. I'm amused at the different perspectives of the two of them: one just wants to run run run, the other needs to win, even if it means giving up on the sour grapes. The former is delightfully childlike and full of life, the latter seems to have the "taint" of social influence. It's an interesting contrast that I enjoyed observing.

Tomorrow, I'll strive to think as the one kid did, full of child wonderment at the world, "Wow, this is fun just doing this!" instead of through the lens of disappointment that I viewed today. I figure that way, even if the day isn't productive, it will still be fun.

I have arrived in this strange northern land in a period of white. I shall observe the large male of the native dominant species and report back my findings.

Thus far today, said male seems to spend most of his day near motionless, staring at a large rectangular surface of bright moving lights, wiggling his figures on another surface full of squares. All of the surfaces display a small fruit symbol: based on the number of symbols, I believe the surfaces to be part of a larger shrine to the male's deity. I will need to explore this phenomena further.

The area itself is incredibly cold, below the freezing point of water, covered in a white to black surface that is also cold. I have donned the locals' style of dress to blend in: a fuzzy hood-lined, brown covering filled with the remnants of flying animals' insulation. I have not developed an allergy to the remnants, and appreciate the warmth of covering provides.

I have managed to prod the male into action, including a walk around his dwelling. He seems to enjoy the movement, emitting laughing noises and talking about his administrations on the surfaces with the markings. I shall win his trust and continue with the walks, even though the cold is nearly unbearable.

I have driven 2555 miles in the last five days with three different friends. I plan on driving another 700 in two days with another. I have driven those first miles, and stand in the bathroom of my father's house, the house of part of my childhood, the house he has been in for thirty years.

As I look around, I remember my dismay at the hairs growing in under my arms and down below, realizing I was changing. I remember crying at the change, desperately wishing it away, and lamenting there was nothing I could do to stop it.

I turn, and as I walk up the stairs to my bedroom, I remember seeing my mom on the stairs crying. She had fallen down the stairs, and was in pain. I was confused. "You're an adult," I told her, "you're not supposed to cry."

I continue upstairs, and, as I walk into my childhood bedroom, remember how I lay on the bed there and heard my mom ask my dad for a divorce. Neither realized I was around the corner listening, hearing every word. None of us realized how hard that moment would be for me to overcome decades later.

I crawl into the bed, and as I lie there, I hear the trains on the distant tracks, the horn sounding across the forest and fields that will be plowed under for houses this year. I begin to weep for the loss of that land.

And as I cry, I remember how I cried to be normal when I was young. How I didn't want to be smart, an outcast, I just wanted to fit in. I realize just how much my life has been better for not having been normal, and wish I could comfort that child who knew not what she wished for.

I stop crying and, as I rise from the bed, look out the nighttime windows of my childhood bedroom. I see the trees from my youth are still standing just outside my windows. They are bigger than they were when I gazed out at them as a child. They are bigger, but they are still here.

I, too, am bigger. I too am still here.

I have come a long way

I still have a long way to go.

Or, how to take care of me when I'm in a lot of pain and can't see anything.

Yeah, well known, I am one of those 300 million people worldwide who suffer migraines. Most people who have migraine headaches have just an incredibly awfully bad headache where the the intense throbbing, often on one side of the head, makes life somewhat unpleasant until it goes away.

"Just."

As if a migraine could ever be "just" a headache. They are horrible awful things, sometimes as bad as "Oh, just kill me now, please" bad, said with complete sincerity. I have a couple friends who also have migraines. They aren't part of the 15% lucky few who have migraines with auras. Now, if you want a really rockin' fun time, that's the way go to.

Did you know that three fourths of migraine suffers are women? Yeah, a fact I find somewhat ironic, as migraines in my family run up the patriarchal side of the family tree from my dad to his dad. Suckasaurus for the Hodsden line.

Yeah, well, this morning, I woke up to another migraine. I've been doing fairly well this year, a far cry from my worst migraine year that included one batch of four days in a row of migraines and just under twenty for the year. That year sucked.

Today, as I was with family, I was surrounded by people who knew what to do, how to take care of me, what I needed to make it through this batch of crap, I wasn't overly worried. There have been some crazy bad migraine timings, though (say, when I was driving my car up the 101, and realized I couldn't see the tires of the car in front of me, that was fun), so I figured, hey, if I'm ever around you and tell you, "I'm having a migraine," you'll know what to do.

1. Safety.

The first thing I need is to be safe. If I'm going blind, which I do with my auras, I want to sleep through as much of it as I can. Losing one's sight is a traumatic experience and defiinitely not one I would recommend to anyone. I will also want to sleep through the worst of the pain that's about to happen. To do this, I need to be able to relax enough to sleep, and the fundamental need at this point is safety. I may be at a friend's house on his couch, in the back of my car pulled over at a rest stop, snuggled in my mom's bed, or curled up under my desk at the office, but I need to believe I'm safe.

2. Pain killers

If I'm still coherent and not asleep yet, I'm going to want pain killers. Rare is the time when I don't have my bottle of acetaminophen, ibupofin, aspirin and combinations of such (excedrin migraine, which has caffeine in it) handy. If I'm lucky, I may have some stronger, left over painkillers from a friend (thanks, Tyler and Adam!). As much as I hate taking drugs, trying to bear through migraine pain is just rather dumb.

3. Darkness

Like most people with migraines, I become somewhat to very photophobic. Normal light from a lamp can become too much very easily. A dark room, or even a darkened room and a pillow or cover over my head is going to work. In desperation, I'll probably have my sunglasses on if I need to be moving, even indoors. Every little bit helps!

4. A bowl

Yeah, if I've eaten in the last two hours, it's not staying down. Much of my body goes numb, and my stomach is going to roll. The numbness is usually pretty awful, starting in my fingertips and moving up my arm in a 20cm segment until it moves from my shoulder to my face and my face goes numb. Usually during that process, my stomach starts, and there isn't much to do but let anything that's down come back up. Yeah, did I mention this is a fun process? I thought I mentioned that detail.

5. Quiet

I remember one time during a migraine when my dad was working on the upstairs bathroom of the house. He was on the other side of the house. He was on a different floor. He was hammering away and each blow sent a reverberating concussion through my head. I eventually called to him and asked him to stop. I remember his looking disappointed, but his expression was also full of understanding. He stopped, and I slept. Reason for that story? I really want quiet, and no noisemakers.

6. Sleep / time

The last things I'm going to need is to handle the worst of the migraine are sleep and time. Sleep to avoid the worst of the pain, and time to recover from the pain. I'll probably be out of commission for anything remotely exciting for the next 24 hours at a minimum. Exercising is out. Anything requiring a physical effort is out. The lingering pain is one that isn't like any other pain I've had, but it's well defined and it sucks.

7. Soup

Yeah, if I've been in pain for hours, and nauseous for most of that time, too, when I'm finally able to eat (eventually!), I'm going to be ravenous. Unfortunately, the only food I'm going to be able to tolerate is going to be something easy to swallow, but still tasty. Soup fits the bill, even in 100˚ heat (just make it a chilled soup, if it's that hot out).

Some day, I'm going to draw up a picture of what my auras look like. Having studied them in depth, oh, JUST THIS MORNING, I can saw, wow, those pictures will be lovely. Until then, hey, if you want to help me, or anyone really, who is having a migraine, yeah, these seven items will give you a good head start. Gentle head rubbing wouldn't hurt either.