I was thinking about the fiction that seems *so* real that I found a couple of days ago. It had an immediacy to it that made me feel completely inferior, but the more I think about it, I'm okay with writing fiction-like fiction. The kind of fiction that seems so real, it's like reading a column seems to me, untruthful. There I am, reading along, minding my own business, thinking that I'm gaining a very personal insight into someone only to be socked in the gut when I find out it's fiction. By no means is this kind of writing bad, it's simply something I can't do.

Answers to all your questions about toast from Dr. Toast.

More on my Mahir kick. It's so worth the download.

Liz write post like Mahir. I blog everyone!! Wishing only happy for all read blog daily. I can invitate all web people to see blog mine.

Good to know that Microsoft doesn't always act like The Man.

I am not sure why MAHIR is so damn funny but I'm sitting here weeping.

At Tuesday's company volleyball game, one of my excellent co-workers' car got hit by a baseball from the little league team that practices at the same park where we play. The baseball coach was doing an infield drill, hitting the ball short distances and Miguel's car was parked too close, which in this case meant on the street in a legal parking spot. Miguel went up to the coach to get his information in case the paint fell off of this nice-sized dent. The coach (aka Coach Crackhead) went off on Miguel, saying that if we weren't playing volleyball there (we avoid the sand court because the neighborhood cats do not avoid it), he wouldn't have hit his car. Even though there's plenty of park for everyone.

So, Miguel gets riled up too, and tells Coach Crackhead that "as a coach, you should..." set an example, not be such a jerk in front of the kids, etc. At this point, the coach is starting to swing the bat in Miguel's direction and the other coaches are rallying around Miguel, trying to keep him from being hit with the bat. He eventually got away from Coach Crackhead, but today's lesson is:

Never say "you should..." anything to an angry man with a bat.

Thanks, Miguel for reminding us all of this very important lesson.

Wow. That's all I can say. Wow. Read it, read it all. I'm sure it will prompt most of us to go back to surfing, blogging, shopping and chatting from the safety of our computers but maybe someone will pause and rush outside to breathe unfiltered air, to remember that sunsets in real life will always look better than in streaming video.

It's way too easy to forget that outside of the Web, there is a big world waiting for your input. Input and output means more than just the clacking of keys, it's the heated discussions that bring change, it's the mother's song to her child, it's the way I talk to my dogs in the mommy voice so they know my words are intended for them. It's the look they give me when I get online at home, the look that says 'you do this enough during the day, this is OUR time with you. Yes, yes it is, my darling girls.

Why can't I have these realizations when it's time to go home instead of at 1 pm when I still need to be here for a few hours?

Just goes to show you that anyone can get venture capital money.

Ellie=Mahir??
This morning I dreamt about Mahir. He was standing at the foot of my bed in a green speedo, dancing and saying "I kiss you". I kept telling him to wait while I adjusted my webcam, so I could share this exciting moment with my readers, all the while thinking how unbelievable this was. Then I woke up to see our new dog Ellie at the foot of my bed itching herself.

There is a ton of really funny stuff on this site. Not much to look at on first glance, but worth the click to some of the images.

This has got to suck. Thanks to event-horizons for this one. That's an event that few attendees are sure to forget!

Mahir is nothing new, but still excellent in oh so many ways. Maybe he inspired Roberto Benigni's 1999 academy awards speech...

Yet another website that defies comment.

I've had my Passat since January of 1999. I loved it, or I thought I did, but really, I loved the idea of it. So grown up, yet sort of youthful, especially in black. Now I find myself eyeing the subaru outback sedan and the outback sport. And no, it's NOT because Martina is pushing them now and they advertise in gay magazines. I don't need a gay car, just a hip car.

Here I am, at Ground Zero of the information age, where changing the world has changed the landscape from orchards to office parks. First Apple, then Netscape and who knows what's coming next. In this environment, it's easy to assume that everything you work on will change the world. After all, that's what Silicon Valley is all about. Certainly, money is important, but deep down, everyone wants to do something that has a lasting impact on how people think, act, or do business. I'm afraid that beyond's lasting impact has become a litany of things not to do. Everywhere I look, there's another article ripping them apart for almost everything they've ever done. Is it because they were the first to bite off more consumers than they could chew? Because the rush to hire and the lack of solid candidates created a team of upper management that knew little or nothing about what we were trying to do (change the way the world buys software)? I have no idea but knowing that a place I used to call home (and honestly, some days I walk into work and still expect to see my cube and my friends from beyond and am rudely awakened by the reality of my new job -- my 3rd since leaving beyond) is being held up as an example of what not to do saddens me. We did our best.

I no longer long to change the world, instead I want to go to work with people I like, work on something interesting, get a decent salary with funds that are actually there and not have to give every night and weekend to my job. Maybe, if I get lucky, my company will get bought out and I'll walk into a small windfall, but more likely, it will just go on as everything else does, somewhere in the middle of greatness.

Tell me that this little boy is not being coached. I dare you. No matter where he is, he's going to be brainwashed, either by our capitalistic consumer society or Castro's.

A really good story. Most of the stories I read online seem so real that I wonder how they can possibly be fiction. This one is no exception. Why isn't my fiction like that? My stuff always has the aura of being made up, even when it's not.

Has the internet bubble burst? Was the initial rush to set up shop a gold rush and now only the strongest of prospectors are still around? It could be good, I was getting tired of watching people become millionaires while I wasn't.

My new #1 reason not to smoke? Rectal cancer. Who wants a disease that would invariably require many many instruments to be inserted in their butt repeatedly? Not me.

It's about time that the real owners of paintings and other works of art stolen by the Nazi's be returned to their rightful owners. Now what about all the stolen money?

IKEA is coming. Actually, it's here. I drove by it when I was picking up Ellie from the shelter in Berkeley. The building is a lovely blue and yellow masterpiece and on that day, 12 days before it opens, it was surrounded by a surreal sea of empy parking spaces waiting to be filled in the name of consumption, billy bookcases, and swedish meatballs.

The first time I set foot in an IKEA was last spring, when I visited Amy in Pittsburgh. At that time, I didn't know about the meatballs, thinking only that this was a nifty furniture store. Little did I know that it's a wonderland of great names for ordinary things like the SUFFL�R entertainment center or the KVADRAT kitchen.

That was the same trip where I met my 1/2 sister for the first time. I spent 3 days with Amy, then drove from Pittsburgh to exciting Mansfield, the armpit of Ohio. Meeting her wasn't as cool as I thought it would be. She brought her boyfriend so the evening was decidedly lopsided and instead of feeling this insane family connection like I do with the other part of my birthfamily, I just felt pretty uncomfortable.

Decided to stop trying not to curse. For as long as I can remember, I've been cursing like a sailor and I feel like I'm missing something if I don't.

The saga of non-quality people bringing non-quality dogs into the world continues... these people are trying to make it seem as if they have great dogs. Don't be fooled -- the backyard breeding that goes on with groups like these brings hundreds of thousands of unwanted, unhealthy dogs into the world with the hope of making a profit. Then when these breeders can't sell the dogs, or they don't breed well, the dogs end up in shelters and with rescue groups, often scared and hard to place because of the trauma of their time at the puppy mills.

This is just a day of being reminded about stuff that makes my blood boil.

Oh, and for the record, beyond's IPO was in June, 1998, not December as newsweek erroneously reported.

This Newsweek article, Dot-Coms Over a Barrel, really pissed me off. Specifically, "According to interviews with several former Beyond.com staffers, people started boycotting the company's Friday beer gatherings."

There were only a handful of folks who did this, among them a woman who was hired for no salient reason other than being a higher-up's friend. In the few months this woman was there, she did no work and made no effort to be part of the team. And now she's got the gall to go to the media and make it sound like she was part of what we were doing there and somehow became disgruntled because Brier was an idiot?

As my grandmother says, she's got some nerve!

I'm not saying that things didn't suck at beyond at times, they did. I'm just saying that this woman has no right to talk about it as if she was actually there and a part of it. She wasn't. So hey lady, shut the hell up. You weren't there anyway.

My toe got so sore that I actually went to the doctor. Mainly because it was interfering with my ability to walk the dogs. I hadn't been to the dr. in so long that not only has she moved to a new building, they lost my chart in that move.

I was hoping for something glamorous like a fracture but it's just tendonitis. She did ask me if I wanted crutches, all I could think was you can't walk 2 dogs on crutches, so I settled for a very sexy ace bandage and some drugs.

My latest blog creation will document Ellie's valiant struggle against cancer.

Scroll down to the bottom to see Jakob, the dog who's about to be Bark Mitzvahed.

Alice's horoscope.

Talk about putting your entire life on the Web. my email. Personally, I find this a little creepy, but it's oddly intruiging at the same time.

I've become Yahoo-dependent. My work email doesn't support POP servers, so I can't get any email right now. It hurts, it hurts!

While trying to dig up the dirt on the candle party people, I found Deedra's Home Page which scares me in ways I can't quite define.

Had the unfortunate experience of attending a PartyLite candle party yesterday. The woman selling the candles was guided by an aura of desperation that made me not want to buy and the candles were expensive and boring. Thumbs down.

There's been a great deal of controversy about Rimadyl, allegedly used for arthritis in dogs, but prescribed routinely for older dogs in pain for a variety of reasons.

Well, we were pretty sure that Ellie had checked out. She wouldn't get up, wouldn't eat (for a beagle, this is a HUGE deal) and had no interest in anything. Our vet gave her some Rimadyl and today she's a new dog, walked a mile with Alice and I this morning. She's also been getting up in the middle of the night to bark so we cut back the dosage, hoping that she'd be just groggy enough to sleep through the night. I know this drug causes death in some (roughly 1%) of dogs, I'm extremely grateful for the time it's giving Ellie and my mom's dog Buddy.

Both of these dogs were at death's door before they got this drug, now their quality of life has improved a great deal. I'm so greatful for that.

My new clarinet just arrived. As anticipated, it's a piece of crap but if I can use it long enough to figure out whether or not I enjoy playing it then it's worth the $65 I paid for it.

Wow. Now this takes the cake. Create A Fart

I'm not sure why Columbus Ohio's skyline is featured here but if you ever wondered what my hometown looks like, now you know.

Somehow Andrea got ahold of my favorite badge picture ever. See for yourself.