Not A Dollarshort

Map O' Fun.

While in Los Angeles, I picked up a copy of my absolute favorite National Geographic -- an issue from August 1963.

The cover story is on Walt Disney, Disneyland and the growing Disney empire.

Here's a scan of the map insert (289 k) included with the issue -- circa 1963. For those really familiar with Disneyland, note the absence of New Orleans Square and the amount of water that used to cover the park.

Christmas Thanks.

I'm still waiting for the email from the folks at Secret Santa which will reveal the identity of the person who gave me my nice present, One Year Off.

If you're my secret Santa, send me an email so I can thank you personally.

Also, many thanks go to Jane (URL?) for sending me Marionettes: How to Make and Work Them. What a pleasant surprise!

Who's the adult and who's the child?

Did you know that there is a national shortage of the Tetanus vaccine?

I learned this fun fact the hard way -- on Christmas morning, no less.

You see, just because I'm 24 years-old and basically an adult, I still manage to do the stupidest of things in the name of exploration and fun.

Our Christmas present to Ben's nine year-old brother was a toy metal detector, an object I have always coveted. So, the moment Sean opened the box, I rushed to take him outside to explore the old barn on his family's property.

Long story short: I stepped on a nail, it went through my shoe and through the goodness of God (might as well give Him a shout-out on His own day), it only just grazed the flesh between two toes.

The nail I stepped on? Well, this nail should be the poster child for Tetanus. Eighty to a hundred years-old, this nail's rust had rust.

And that's why I had to get a Tetanus shot.

The experience was really a non-experience for me. However, my brother-in-law looked particularly traumatized for the remainder of the day.

Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that his siblings told him jokingly that if his metal detector was so great, he should have detected the nail before I stepped on it.

Or maybe because I told him (also jokingly) that I only had 72 hours to live.

Siblings can be so cruel and I'm making up for all my years as an only child.

Weird? Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps.

Happy Holidays, folks!

It's Christmas Eve and I'm still working on one of the presents for my mother. Along with her "official" present, a compilation of stories about Cuba, I made her a mix CD of some Latin pop. And, since I needed to make a cover, I combined my mother's two major loves -- Cuban music (via Desi Arnaz) and her Sheltie, Augie.

Presenting Augielu'.

I guess it's one of those familial jokes that is often quite creepy to those outside our inner circle.

Oh, and there's also Annie Miranda.

And now, a Christmas present for you: Desi Arnaz singing Quizas, Quizas, Quizas (2.0 megs).

The year that was.

Since we're approaching the end of the year, I told myself I just had to compile some sort of "best of 2001" list. You know, what I want to remember about this milestone year.

(crickets chirp)

Ok, let's redefine that list.

Let's compose a list of "best of dollarshort.org" -- otherwise known as my little fantasyland where I like to pretend I'm perpetually 8 and choose to stubbornly block out the real world.

And since I'm about to close the book on my first year (or rather 8 1/2 months) of blogging, I would have to say that compiling this list of favorites -- or rather, posts that do not make me cringe -- would not be too narcissistic.

In no particular order, I present my favorite posts of 2001:

My Silent Movie (video)
If only I spent this energy on a real skill.

My Brother Larry
"Larry wouldn't want to hear you say that."

The Poseidon Adventure and me.
"But I only watch it once or twice a day."

A Memorex Moment (Audio)
"She wore Blue Velvet."

Camp Hell (Illustrated)
"Where is that fool?"

Friend in a Box.
"Teddy Ruxpin wouldn't waste his time."

Let's Go to Vegas!
"Pack up your Barbies."

The bookcase story
"Oh my God, Junior! It's Mena!"

I scare easily.
"Don't put Mena down the well!"

Identity Crisis.
"Enjoy that car while you can."

Sick.

I think that I've run out of things to write about.

Either that or I'm too sick to concentrate.

It's funny -- it's really easy to forget how much the flu really knocks the wind out of you. And, because I refuse to take cold or flu medication (other than a rub of Vicks), I'm pretty much miserable unless I'm sleeping.

But sleeping -- that's not always easy, either.

Take last night.

I had one of my "waking dream" nights -- a horrible pattern of sleep that consists of being half awake while having the SAME EXACT DREAM the entire night.

Usually these occur when I'm sick or preoccupied with a deadline or large project.

And because one of the last things I did before going to bed was to attempt to read from The Fellowship of the Ring, my eight-hour waking dream had something to do with me throwing a party for the Hobbits.

So bear with me. I need to rest.

A call for sound.

Lost & Found Sound's Sonic Memorial Project

"The public radio community across the country is joining together to create a Sonic Memorial to commemorate and chronicle the people, places and endeavors that made up the life and history of the World Trade Center."

Be it ever so humble...

Tonight my grandparent's kitchen sink became clogged and although Ben and myself are two able-bodied adults, my grandmother felt that no one but my grandfather could clear the drain.

Despite the fact that he was just released from the hospital and that he spends most of the day sleeping, she knew that he is the ultimate handy-man in the house, the only person who can manage to take a hammer to a drain pipe and somehow solve the problem.

And so tonight I realized how much my grandparents really need to sell this house -- my childhood home.

During the drive down, I made a conscious effort to prepare myself to face the inevitable. I repeated this mantra:

"There will be a "For Sale" sign in front of the house."
"There will be a "For Sale" sign in front of the house."
"There will be a "For Sale" sign in front of the house."

But even with my efforts, the tears still welled as I was greeted by the sight of the tallest and most taunting "For Sale" sign ever.

Back home, I viewed placing the house on the market as the ultimate tragedy.

Here, however, I see what my grandparents see -- a house that's falling apart.

And even though my grandfather can still unclog drains, he shouldn't.

So, with this little problem (the clogged drain) I realize that the big problem (selling our memories along with the house) isn't such a big problem.

My grandmother said "You still have the memories even if you don't have the house."

And she's right.

She also admitted that she can't wait until they have a smaller house so she can finally get a Craftmatic bed.

So now, my task is to document this house for posterity. I'm going to spend the next couple days taking photographs of every corner, wall and piece of furniture. And hopefully, I'll have the next best thing to my memories.

I'm also looking into some low-cost software that will enable me to create 360 degree Quicktime VR-like movies. Does anyone have any suggestions?

News? That's not news.

Tonight my grandparents, Ben and I were glued to the television set as we watched a low-speed stolen vehicle pursuit on the channel 9 news.

The vehicle?

A bus.

Although these sort of chases are quite common in LA (two others occurred tonight), they apparently do not usually involve buses -- let alone buses that are driven for miles on just their tire rims.

The bus eventually conked out and there was the usual sort of police stand-off (or so I was told).

How was it resolved? I can't say. We eventually turned off the television and decided to head to bed. I figured that I could just check an online news source to see how the stand-off was resolved.

Well, I was wrong. I can't seem to find any online reporting of the chase -- apparently this chase isn't really a big news story nowadays.

So if you know what happened, let me know.

Oh, and on a completely unrelated note: if you speak German, could you be kind enough to let me know what this says?

We're going to be bestest friends!

Last week I mentioned the general problems plaguing my grandparents. Since then, their car was totaled while parked in front of their house and my grandfather has been hospitalized for a blood clot that traveled to his lungs (however that works).

Now frankly, I've had enough of this country music song.

So, tomorrow we're getting in the car and heading down to Los Angeles to be with them for a while. Things never seem as bed when you're nearby and, really, I don't need to hear any more bad news over the phone.

Even though we'll be gone for a week or two, I'll be posting regularly and Movable Type development will continue.

These are the times we really wish we had an laptop rather than 3 desktops. Luckily, Ben's iMac is somewhat portable.

Well, at least more portable than the Performa I dragged around in college.

I transferred to another college during my last quarter of my sophomore year. Because I dreaded having a roommate -- let alone one who had already established her set of friends, I met the move with an enormous amount of anxiety.

I'll sum up the rooming arrangement with this image:

My roommate and her former roommate actually had a door sign made that not only had both of their names carved in wood but also the words "friends forever."

Oh, and when this old roommate left (because of personal problems at home), my roommate had taken down this girl's bed and had designated that corner of the room "party central."

Needless to say, when she arrived from Spring Break and found me sitting on the reconstructed bed -- between her Absolut trophies and her Anne Geddes calendar, she was more than surprised.

Don't get me wrong -- she was a nice girl. We were just different types.

I was the type who'd pack up her desktop computer (including monitor) in a suitcase and drive home every weekend.

You know, a loser.

Even Ben makes fun of me for that one.