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Sunday, May 22, 2005

Lazy Sunday, Lazy Thoughts

In a few minutes I am going to walk somewhere... Downtown Subscription maybe, or perhaps The Tea House, sit in the sun and edit the cover story. Am hoping my brain won't explode en route. Friday, after work, needing to make my 10,000 steps per day goal, I went for a post-work walk and ended up with some mild form of heat stroke. Hot all night, splitting headache, dizzy. Kind of ridiculous, really. I know that people who believe in ayuverdic stuff have told me often that I have that "hot" body type that makes heat kind of unbearable—in fact, ayuverdic or not, it's true. I really don't like being overheated but, still, an hour walk at 6 pm shouldn't do a person in. Although, in my defense, it was really hot out Friday. And now for that matter. Still, if it's going to be hot I better acclimate (I haven't in 17 years but maybe this will be the summer). Although Darius' pool is open I can't bear the thought of putting my bathing suit on at the moment. I know, vanity is one of the 10 deadly sins (7 deadly sins? How many are there? Lack of any formal religious education sometimes problematic), but it's also considerate really. I don't want anyone else's brain to explode. I can't believe I'm going to be on the beach in a month. Maybe I should walk to San Diego. Fortunately, I know from experience, my refusal to be hot and miserable will soon overcome my vanity. Possibly a few hours from now. It is hot out.
Last night, post Cowgirl dinner, a few of us went for a nice summer night walk, and ended up at The Plaza. I hadn't realized there was a blu102 event and we could hear the funk music from three blocks away. Rocque Ranaldi (who is becoming as ubiquitous a presence at Santa Fe events as the local bellydancing troupes) was spinning and the Plaza was filled with people. Young kids dancing, tourists dancing, teenagers dancing. There were older couples, clearly dressed up from dinner, who stopped and danced. I have to say it was one of those great Santa Fe moments and if I could snap my fingers (actually I am capable of snapping my fingers) and transform one thing about Santa Fe, I would make downtown like it was last night every night all summer long. Plus, I'd add a dozen food vendors and I'd take the ropes down from the grass. That way people could come downtown, get a cheap meal, sit on the grass, dance, whatever. Quite frankly, I'd do it at lunch too. Who cares how many food vendors there are downtown? Let the marketplace decide. Let downtown be the kind of place people hang out, all kinds of people. It was really, really nice. Now if I could snap my fingers and make a few other things happen, I'd lower the price of real estate to something resembling reasonable, stop all the revolting huge commercial and residential building being approved at breakneck speed on the southside and make something good happen in the Railyard once and for all.
But Sundays are no time for griping, particularly when I have work of my own to do. And the sooner it's done, the sooner I'll be poolside. And the sooner I get poolside, the sooner I can work on tanning my stomach.
Finally, a BIG thanks to Tom Blog who troubleshot my javascript problem on Friday (which turned out not to be my problem, but a problem with the code). He's instructed me on how to make it work, which I'll probably do on Monday. Thanks also to Lee and Tom of The Donagale Express for their offers of help subsequent to Tom's initial tackling of the problem. I'm sure they would have figured it out quickly as well. I, on the other hand, might have spent the rest of my life trying to figure it out and would have, based on previous experience, refused to ever read anything that might have helped me figure it out. Thus I've set a goal to actually start reading a bit about html, css etc., rather than persist in this endless trial and error method I've got going on. All in all, I'm pretty good at teaching myself stuff, but I think I'm at, or close to at, the point where I could use a little instruction.
OK, I'm hitting the street, um, sidewalk.