I just flew in from Vegas and boy are my arms... Err. Yeah. Anyway.

A billion things have been written about Las Vegas, so I'll avoid going into too much detail about the city I haven't seen since I was 10 years old. As usual, I was fascinated with the shiny and bright for a few minutes, but quickly found myself paying more attention to the fraying at the edges. Like lifting a pretty rock to see what crawls in the dark underneath, Las Vegas is most interesting in the light of the mountain dawn when you realize that the gorgeous, sexy, flashy city that you went to bed with last night is a bored and bleary-eyed hustler willing to tell you you're beautiful and fabulous baby if that's what it takes to make a buck.

I had a good time, though I didn't get to see much outside the MGM Grand as I was tied up with business. Saw an old friend for lunch in a restaurant where it was raining behind my head as we ate. Won a few hundred bucks on a slot machine as I was walking out the door at 6 AM this morning. I'll definitely need to plan a return trip.

On an unrelated note pondered as I drove home from the airport... Why are topless bars always located by airports? Is this a zoning thing? Or business based on the belief that travelers will get off a plane and think, "I need to go check into my hotel, but first I need... hmmm. I can't quite recall what it... oh! Naked breasts!" Or perhaps the reverse, as people afraid to fly need that last minute glimpse of a naked body before they climb onto a plane... These are the questions that keep me up at nights, you know.

Thing #4599 to Check Before Aquiring a New Cat:

"Dante. Quit walking across my keyboard. There is no food here."

"Mrow. Not gonna."

"I'm serious. Get off of here!"

"Pet me."

"Fine. See this water? There. How's that feel sprinkled across you? Huh? Huh?"

"Pet me."

"You don't care, do you."

"Pet me."

As I was driving home a few minutes ago, I decided to stop for a quick bite to eat down the road from my house. And discovered a film crew doing night shooting about a mile from my house. Lots of police blocking the street, lights bright as daylight, and several semis full of film equipment and a craft services truck spread out through the parking lots of several small businesses along the street. The production scale pretty much rules out anything but a feature film. I couldn't quite catch exactly what they were filming, other than a house decked entirely (and a bit early) in Christmas lights. If I weren't so exhausted, I'd drive back over and watch.

A quick check of the Texas Film Commisson website says that its either "Spy Kids 2" with Antonio Banderas, or "The Life of David Gale" with Kevin Spacey and Kate Winslet. Hopefully the latter, since I don't think I could sit through the former just to see if my neighborhood shows up.

Mike Oldfield's Tubular Bells always brings memories of December nights in Iowa when the first snow was falling and the city streets were soft and muffled. The nights when only soft candle glow would light my apartment and huge fluffy white flakes floated down beneath the streetlight outside my window. If I close my eyes I can still smell the soft vanilla of the candles and feel the crisp night air on my cheeks. I can see the flakes falling from the sky when I'd tilt my head back to watch them dance against a purple city night sky. If I close my eyes, I can still feel snowflakes landing on my eyelashes.

I love living in Austin. I really do. But I can't imagine living the rest of my life without watching snow fall at midnight.

In the meantime, while I'm sorting out the redirect thing, go watch this. Because it makes me giggle.

Alright! Alright! I confess! The reason I haven't put up a redirect from the old blog page to this one is because.... I don't have any idea how to do it. I can't find the information quickly. I have no idea. I confess. I'm sorry.

While we're on the subject, I also have no idea how to replace the spark plugs in my car. I have no clue how to figure out file sharing under Windows 2000 so that I can access the hard drive on my work computer from my home computer. I can't do math problems involving hypotheticals - calculus, trig, geometry - without being reduced to crying like a little girl. And I'm mentally unable to judge distance. If I tell you something is about three feet long, figure it's at least six feet on a good day.

I am, however, open to suggestions. :-)

Looking back over my recent blog entries, I've discovered a new and rather irritating inclination to use the same words twice in the same sentence. 'I'm working to finish some work' or 'I received a sweet letter that in its sweetness...' or perhaps even, 'the same words twice in the same sentence.'

What can I say? It's a talent.

And I've noticed I forgot to switch the daily archives over to the new design. I'll get right on that. Tomorrow. Or the next day.

It is somewhat fitting that I'm a robot from a cheesy 80's movie.

Yeah, yeah. Back to work.

I hate the fact that it's an absolutely gorgeous, sunny, fall afternoon and I'm sitting in my cubicle on a Sunday frantically working to finish up some work. Well, alright. Not so frantic if I'm taking a moment to post this.

Yes. I'm well aware that if I'd gotten everything done before the last minute, I'd be able to be out there enjoying the day. Shhh. I'm busy denying my procrastination. La-la-la-la I can't hear you.

The problems with having a fever when you're single:

5. No one is around to worry about you and fret over you.
4. No one will go get you 7-up or bring the TV to the bedroom.
3. The cats won't bring you their body warmth and are really just worried that you'll die without feeding them.
2. The cats really aren't that worried at all. They could feast on your lifeless body.

and the number one reason it sucks to have a fever when you're single?

1. In single-space, no one can hear you whimper.