Minus: I don't love my cat today. I'll get into that later.

Plus: I am presently drinking a Grolsch Premium Lager. I like that an imprint on the bottle says GROLSCHE BIERBROUWERIJ. That becomes more fun to say the more Grolsch you drink. Also, Grolsch sounds just about the same whether you say it when you're sober or sputtering wetly over the bar at the waitress.

Minus: I spent over an hour-and-a-half creating a really kick ass tutorial about how to create the lomo effect on your digital photographs using GIMP, because I couldn't find one anywhere, and then I stumbled across "Faking Lomo". If anyone still cares to see my step-by-step version with colour picture screenshots of GIMP in action, let me know. At this point, though, I have given up. DO YOUR RESEARCH BEFORE SPENDING HOURS TRYING TO CREATE SOMETHING NEW THAT ISN'T. This is why the Grolsch ingestion.

Plus: While I was playing around with the digital lomo effect, I managed to create the following image of the Fiery One:

Aidan, faux lomo

Being anything but, he's never looked so South American.

Minus: The cat tried to eat our bird today, and it was all my fault. She managed to wedge herself out of the cage door when I was refilling her feeder in the bathroom, and before I could do anything, Oskar leapt over and had her in his mouth. OSKAR HAD LADYBIRD IN HIS MOUTH. ASSHOLE. Luckily, I had that cat by the neck before he could bite down, and the Fiery One wrestled him away. I spent the next few minutes cornering our tiny zebra finch alternately in the sink, on the window sill, behind the toilet, inside the medicine cabinet, and behind the tea towel curtain. She's been under the weather lately, so if she survives all of the above, glory be. Who lets me keep pets? Hmm? Who? Do you believe in God now?

Plus: Grolsch.

Minus: Would you believe that, even though I wash my feet on a regular basis and own a pumice stone, I still have a bit of blue paint ground into the edges around my toenails from the fever-induced toe-painting incident? And that a co-worker noticed it and asked if I had some sort of infection? It's a difficult situation to recover from when you have no preconceived cover story and you are trying to avoid telling her that you painted them blue yourself. Who asks if your feet, all of them, toes and everything, are infected?! First, I played around with the idea of ambushing her with a box of thumb tacks and some whiteboard cleaner for asking if my feet were infected, and then, I realized that I was probably overreacting.

Plus: I've decided to change my life! So maybe I won't have to be glorified cubicle filler for much longer! Or I will find enlightenment and stop caring about such transitory matters! Or I'll take to keeping vodka in my flower vase and stay too drunk to care!

Minus: I dare say that I am being a bit passive-aggressive today. Burp.

Plus: I have another Grolsch in the refrigerator. That person (you know who you are) who came to Cityville this weekend and put beer in my fridge and then only took two for themself? You? Gesundheit. I mean, bless you. I OWE YOU.

Places I've been recently: HollyRhea, Wallace Stevens' "Notes Toward A Supreme Fiction", and Artificial Industries.

Philip K. Dick Interview - Festival du livre de science fiction Sept. 1977

Oh, Utah