CSS is cool!
i love it but i hate it.
just got back from the mall. wtf is up with the cheapo picture taking things?? they suck now. they aren’t cheap and they only spit out one photo. remember how they used to spit out a strip of 4 different shots so you could have a little fun and make faces at it? no longer. 4 bucks for 1 shot, you fuck up, your through. what a bitch. of course, i fucked it up, didn’t take off my glasses and got a lensflare. i barely decided on spending 4 buck on what i thought were going to be 4 photos but to find out its 4 bucks for one fucking picture. man. remember when little caesar’s had that 4bucks 4bucks pizza deal? now that was good shit. 4 dollars for a pizza. hell yeah. but now i have to pay 4 bucks to get one shitty picture from the stupid booth in the mall.
i’ve stopped even making the attempt to get up early enough to do basic hygiene before stumbling into work. at the beginnning of the summer, i strove to start my schedule at 9 in the morning but since clusters open at 8 i was not permitted to schedule myself at 9 without also signing up for 8. this wasn’t a terribly big deal since for the past three years i have been getting up at 5:30 in the morning to go to work. so i started getting up at 7, showering, eating a bit of breakfast and then going in to work. this worked out well until i started my night job. then, getting back into the dorm at one in the morning made getting up 6 hours later much more difficult. at first i started getting up at 7:15, then that turned into 7:30, now my alarm goes off at 7:45 i sleep for another ten minutes, roll out of bed and wander over to the cluster right as it opens. my breath smells, my face is greasy, i’m pretty sure the these shorts i’ve been wearing are the only ones i’ve ever had in my entire life. my hair is mussed, i need to shave. flowers wilt before my presence and children are afraid of me. thankfully, once lunchtime rolls around, it is just as easy to wander back to my room and shower up. only 9 more twelve hour days until i actually get something resembling summer vacation. alright!
i found the CSS reference section in Dreamweaver. Now i can actually start fiddling around! but lo and behold, one of my previous pages was pretty much done in CSS and i didn’t even know it. granted, that was the page that a stole probably 80% of the code from, but it was a good learning experience. maybe this won’t be as bad as i had expected.
yeah, so learning CSS is harder than i thought. especially since the educational version of Dreamweaver that we have does not have any of the CSS attributes installed on it. Thankfully one of my fellow websavvy students has a CSS book that he is going let me borrow. but all of this junk with me dealing with my own inability to make a sensical webpage is resulting a a stumbling progression toward usability.
i haven’t made a film in 2 months and it is starting to bother me. i am ready for classes to start again. This semester i am taking two anthropology classes and three film classes. Anthropology: Society and Culture Through Films and Introduction to Archaeology. Film: Intermediate Film Prodcution, Film Noir, and Cinema Ideologies. This will complete my anthropology major and leave the 2nd semester open for 4 film classes and hopefully a poetry writing class. I am also anxious to have a room to myself, a space totally my own, where I do not have a roommate to cause trouble. wunderbar!
there are 5 new poems in verbal impotence
fencing is a hard sport for me to think about. is it a sport or an art? it is a basic act of violence using the sword, the traditional icon for warfare, refined into a thing of grace and beauty. how should i go about my fencing? Should i take it as warfare, to destroy my opponent by any means, or should i strive to achieve technical perfection and glory in the kinesthetic improvisation of the bout? Are the two even separated? Can the act of violence be a thing of beauty? Are the convoluted symbols and meanings a sign of our attempts at creating an Art of War? I should read Sun Tzu and Miyamoto Musashi again.
The only way to watch coming-of-age fliks from the ’80s is while drinking. at least if you are me. the best word to describe my feelings regarding said films is abhor. We watched Can’t Buy Me Love and Footloose last night. It was, perhaps, more fun to rip on the relatively innocent antics and eccentric film techniques than it was to actually watch the film. Did I mention this was a film major party? Footloose would be an excellent movie to appear on MST3K. There are so many scenes with little dialogue that Ryan and I had a blast ripping it to shreds. Mullets and bad music define the emotional highlights of any ’80s teenpic.
I am glad I was an innocent little hick boy in the wilds that are east central indiana during the ’80s. And for those of you who are wondering, no I did not have a rattail or a kiddie-sized mullet.
For the next month I am going to be teaching myself CSS and by the time my senior year of college starts perhaps I will have a CSS version of my page ready to go. Wish me luck, I don’t know shite about it and my version of Dreamweaver doesn’t seem to know shite about it either.