cenobyte, in her infinite wisdom and with quicksilver brainy…uh…stuff…has also figured out how to change the bookmark icon.

Because she cocks.

That is all.

Slightly New

Hey there.

So, here’s the deal. The centre of the universe was getting a little chuffed about some of the finicky finickyness about the former bournalling software it was using. So it changed. Relatively painless transformation, other than having to redo the templates. So there’s a *slightly* new look, and more features. Like feeds. That work.

That means that you can have the centre of the universe broadcasting *right to your front door*, essentially, which is kind of cool, methinks. You can also access the centre of the universe, I hear, from your handheld devices…ummm…not *that* handheld device. Oh God. Not THAT handheld device…Geez you guys. Sickos. Your PHONES, people. Your PHONES and fancy ting-ringlers.

The whole deal makes cenobyte a *little* sad, in that the software she was using was like an old boyfriend. Or an old shoe. Or an old boyfriend’s old shoes. Or something. But it’s just got to the point where the features cenobyte wants in a bournal are too bothersome to …well… to bother with coding and fiddling and all that jazz.

I think the archives from the former bournal will be available at some point, but I haven’t farted around with that yet, and even if they are, you won’t be able to post comments on them, so, uh. Sorry about that. It was probably the biggest thing holding me back – what to do with the, what, six years of archives? Seven? Guh.

Anyhow. Give the site a new test drive and let me know what you think. Oh. And it’s probably a good idea to update any feeds you may currently be subscribed to. The link remains the same, however. Because I’m brilliant.

Well, that was confusing.

Apologies for that.
There were…aahhh…problems. With my server. The issue is being rectified. With my finding a new host.

Anyhow, I’ve made a number of attempts at posting things this weekend. One per day, in fact. Saturday was my telling of the very cool dream I had that involved the radio station, the radio station’s general manager, a computer system that went FUBAR, and the mayor of Regina. And a very witty post it was, but since I have now had to enter it no fewer than three times, and the file in which I wrote it appears to have gone AWOL, that’s all you get.

Sunday, I was attempting to bitch about the situation with my bournal being unupdatable. I was attempting to do that manually. No dice. Also, The Captain’s hockey game, or, In Which The Captain’s Team Smears The Other Team.

Monday, I was going to tell you the story of the visit I’d had from my mother, the destruction and rage it caused, and why that was important. Also, the woman who went to the warehouse-under-construction to get a story for her paper, and who met another woman there, who was working, and how they ended up being lovers. And the fact that it was a dream-story in the style of Saskatchewan author Bonnie Dunlop, whose work I love.

Yesterday was Remembrance Day, and I was going to tell you a story about my granddad.

And now, it’s past midnight, and so is technically Wednesday, and I have nothing to tell you but that the bournal has been down but now, she is fix-ed.

Sorry for the confustication.

Just Prior to Leaving

I don’t know what it is about travelling. Usually the last couple of days are the most relaxing, but there is this anticipation of home that makes a person giddy. It’s only a few hours from here to home, and I enjoy driving. Even in the winter. I know, I know, I’m supposed to be bitching; something about not enough complaining for Af to be…uh…sated, I guess. Remember that this is the centre of the *entire* universe, though. Not just home to Af. Not all the Centre’s minions are as bitter as Af, who definitely has the corner on the bitterness market.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how strange it is how things work themselves out. Sure, the decisions we make affect our lives, and the decisions of others, and even though “I am the Captain of my Soul” and all that, It’s still a wonderful thing. Sit back and think about what brought you here; what got you to this point. Really think about it.

so many people exist. I mean, really. that’s all they do. They don’t challenge themselves; they’re perfectly content to just watch television or play video games or work and come home to the same thing they’ve come home to for the last thirty years. I’m not saying that’s bad. *I* wouldn’t be happy with that. I guess I’d like people to challenge themselves more.

Hell, I’d like a lot of things.

“Why don’t you just ask for a *pony* while you’re at it?”



Okay, that’s enough for this morning.

It occurred to me as I was driving home across my favourite landscape, to wonder whether the music of your ancestors has a ‘root’…no, more than that…an anchor in your own soul. If, when you hear the music they made, the music they listened to, if that strikes something deep in your own self, and resonates at a frequency that precisely matches your own.

This occurs to me because of the many times I have fallen in love with other kinds of music, but have fallen (or stumbled, as the case may be) back to an intense passion for the music my grandparents, my great-grandparents, my ancestors, listened to.

Or maybe that’s just the purpose of folk music.

Who knows.

Anyway, home again feels nice.

Test Run and Whatnot

Okay. Um. Well, here it is.
You know, you read about these things in the papers, and it’s all the rage these days. All the kids are doing it. But I’m a virgin. No really. Okay, okay, quit laughing. I’m a virgin *in relation to this Web log business*. Really, that’s about it. I’m just trying to test this thing out. Didja know it allows other people to post comments!?? Isn’t that a hoot!?

Okay, I’m going to see how this works/looks/fires with the safety off.


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