thoughts 2010 01 24

research to do:

jquery selector speed

archiver starting point options: - scrapbook 1.3.6, saves locally - save complete 1.0.1, also in mozilla archive format - zotero - also at - mozilla archive format (stores locally in zip format)

save complete and mozilla archive format modules have been installed on 3.5 under FF35 profile

save complete git at / git://

Need to start on project52 posts.
Kevin's. He starts his with: "This post is the first in my Project 52 series. Project 52 is group of people who have all signed up for the challenge of creating new content for their sites at least once a week."

Free font references:

McCormick New Media grant guidelines
"The McCormick New Media Women Entrepreneurs program will give one-time funding of $12,000 to women who have the vision, skills and experience to launch a new venture. These can be solo ideas or team projects spearheaded by women."
"Strong applicants would:
1. Provide information to help people live their lives or make informed civic choices.
2. Adhere to principles of accuracy, truth and fairness.
3. Advance women in the news industry.
4. Show promise of being replicable or scalable."

Acquia Marina notes

Construct your CSS jquery blueprint layout planner

Drupal convert 6 themes to 7

Thoughts from the last two days


Okay, anyone else think it's cruel to make a person sing if they're getting kicked off American Idol? I mean, hell, all I'd want to do is cry. WTF?

My hotel room doesn't have a refridgerator. Or a Tivo.

Or even a box of kleenexes. What kind of hotel room doesn't have kleenexes?

Is it a rule that you have to be cute to work at PFChangs in downtown Austin? Because, I swear, each and every guy working there tonight was adorable. At home, when my local P.F. Changs says the food will be ready in 25 minutes, I show up 15 minutes later, because I'll have to wait those 10 minutes at the take-out counter before anyone bothers to catch my eye (despite my staring at each waiter who walks by me), stop, and ask if I need help. Contrast that to this evening where I was approached by not one, not two, not three, not four, but FIVE cute male waiters (and one cute female waiter), asking me if I'd been helped. Holy crap, did I tip well. On take-out no less.

Clearly at a party conference. It's 10 PM and already there are drunk people running up and down the hall. I wouldn't notice, except the wireless is so bad, I have to sit next to my room door to get any signal. If this keeps up, I'm going downstairs to the Starsbuck and jumping on the T-Mobile Intarweb connection.

Austin drivers are crazy. They don't have the excuse of Boston's crappy road system, either. Walking four blocks, I was almost hit three times, even though I was wearing my yellow boarding jacket.

I wish the drunk people would STFU already.

Hmmmm... sitting on the floor isn't so bad. Time to stretch while I work. Should have thought of this ages ago.

I'm surprised at how much I wish I were here with a friend. As much as I enjoy my solitude, I think this conference would be more fun with someone to share it with. On that note, I really wish Kris enjoyed the same projects, interests, and activities (outside ultimate) that I do. It would be nice to share this with him.

Do I type as loudly as the person next to me? If so, geez, I need to practice quiet typing. So should the woman next to me.

Crap redux


Yesterday's garage sale was harder on me emotionally than I expected it to be. I managed to deflect much of the impact by playing with Mirabelle, but the fundamental issue was still there. Non-eloquently speaking, the garage sale was about selling off an old woman's lifetime of cruft. She had children and grandchildren who could manage to do the actual work, which is good. I can't imagine the emotional weight of disposing a lifetime's worth of memories in a weekend.

Which is not to say that's what really happened, but in some way it was. Beth's grandmother was the original owner of the house, it having been built by Beth's grandfather. Every detail of the house was an imprint from their actions, each nook and cranny and built-in. So was all of the stuff we piled on tables, or hauled out of boxes, or rummaged through in the garage. It was years and years, decades rather, of stuff accumulated into a big pile, to be disposed by strangers, bought by strangers, taken away by strangers.

I came home and looked at all of my stuff. I've been following the William Morris quote with my crap: "Have nothing in your houses that you do not know to be useful, or believe to be beautiful." Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. Much has memories attached to it.

I tried to clean out some of the stuff, but wasn't completely successful. I'm more motivated now, after the garage sale. I'd rather be the one to throw out, give away, sell or otherwise divest myself of my stuff, than to know 30, 50, 80 years from now some stranger is going to do it, some stranger is going to look at my possessions and think, what crap.

P.S. Andy's home. Arrived today.