So. Boo. I’m still here, much to the chagrin of my enemies. Excuse me while I haughtily laugh at them. Ha. Ha.

I had been trying to keep a posting schedule of once a week, dream or not. Obviously that went by the way side. A client project took priority and the week was spent hiding away from the sun, overseeing data transfer. The project is not complete, but enough has been done in the initial drive that we now have more time to look over the details. Because you know, there is always something broken in the details.

But I must give credit (and link juice, however scant I can give) to Hostasaurus. Miva Merchant clients, take note. Them is good peoples. And now part of Miva Merchant, so that’s like home made vanilla ice cream with Grandma’s apple pie. Yum.

Very few dreams. Snatches here and there. None of them make sense, even the pieces that I feel are important.

My formal magic practice has also come to a screeching halt. I’ve found myself at a crucial point. I could barrel forward with the little stuff I have now, determined to make it work by hell or high water. Or I could stop and take a damn good look at what I’m doing, and why I’m doing it that way. There are a lot of little rabbit holes I could get lost in, trying to do this or that. I haven’t the monetary or physical resources to master all of them. Time to figure out what I’m good at, and specialize in it.

Over the past three weeks, I’ve realized that what I thought was a nice little tale, was actually prognostic. I didn’t see it as such then, because I was hung up on the ethnic makeup of the key characters. It is amusing to see who in my life is reflected in the dream of Beer and Bikers. But it is also telling to see who in my life is not.

A nice little tale to pass on. Eight years ago, I was in a bad way. I thought my life was of no worth and it would be better for the world at large (and for my daughter especially) if I jumped off the nearest freeway overpass. People intervened, some well, some not so well, and I lost almost everything. Including the few friends I had then. Two days ago, one of them found me again. And was able to tell me what I couldn’t hear then. That I was a person of worth, not for anything I had done or could do, but because I was his friend. We have eight years to catch up on. I hope he finds the person I have become to also be a person of worth. I might still be crying about this. Happy tears, though. Happy tears.

Why the weekly update? Because I’ve noted if I don’t post at least every seven days, spammers think the blog is abandoned and begin the automated attacks in earnest. A post a week, keeps them at bay.

I’m noticing folks signing up their blogs for this Networked Blogs thingie. I don’t get it. But then again, I don’t get most social internet activities. So, somebody sell me on it. What does it do for you, and is it worth the assimilation? (Someone said it provides a central point for you to read blogs without having to go to each blog to see if it updated. Are RSS clients that damn old already, that people don’t know what they do anymore?)

So, in summary, blah blah blah, bullshit, blah blah, fuck that, blah.

Make of that, what you may.