May 10th, 2005:

I’ve been working on some form of Ultimate Personal Website Management software for quite some time now. But I never seem to actually produce anything. I’ve always assumed it was because the project was too difficult, or I lacked dedication, or because I was too lazy to write the code for it, or because I was just plain bored with programming in general.

But now all of those conditions are removed. I’m more than dedicated, growing very weary with the publishing system that I use now. I’m ready and willing to write code, and am no where near being bored doing it. And, thanks to “Ruby on Rails”:http://rubyonrails.com/, I’m excited about writing the code and am confident that it will easier to write now than it ever has been.

So… why isn’t it written? I think I’ve come up with the answer.

I don’t know what to write. I don’t know how I want my own publication system to work. Do I want publication across multiple domains from one interface? Do I want to intermingle different types of content on one page in order with one another? Do I want multiple output formats for each item being displayed? Do I want flat or threaded comments? Do I want to be able to embed entities of one type into those of another (i.e. embed and object from the gallery into a journal entry)? Do I want to provide the facility to publish to multiple channels and, if so, should those channels allow for more than one type of content in each of them?

Not knowing the answers to my own questions leaves me stuck and not knowing what to code next or where to turn to start building.

Maybe you can help.

Since there’s a new Lost tomorrow… there’s another Lost party tomorrow.

Show up around 7:00pm if you wanna have dinner. Show up around 8:00pm just to watch Lost. If you have nothing to do prior to 7:00pm, let me know and we’ll work it out. If you can’t get there until after 8:00pm, let me know and we’ll work it out. If you’re coming, let me know or I’ll think that you’re not.

RSVP here, via email or via phone.

… on this day, Tuesday, May the tenth, in the year of our lord two-thousand five, the “Inbox”:http://revjim.net/page/inbox/ of one Jim Reverend was found to be empty save for one message which the council has reviewed the contents of (seen below) and determined that it is sufficiently difficult enough to remain in the Inbox for at least five days more without answer.

And now, the contents of said message:

bq. If you were a feathered beast, what sort of feathered beast would you be? Extinct FB’s are acceptable, however, you would still be dead and fossilized. You’d have to be really cool to justify being a mineral shell of your former self.

I’m sure this won’t last long.

/me takes a deep breath.

*Update*: Damnit. I knew it was too good to be true. I just found 60 messages that I had moved into another folder temporarily that belong in my Inbox. Grrr. I’ll work on it some more.

Today is the two month anniversary of my non-smoker status. As much as I enjoy your approval, congratulations, and gifts, I don’t need them. I’ve got plenty of other reasons to feel good about it. Like that fact there are over 1800 fewer cigarettes in my body. Or the fact that my wallet is almost $350 thicker. Or maybe that I have almost 14 more days of life that I can use looking into my wife’s beautiful eyes.

Through a strange chain of events, I landed on “a journal entry”:http://revjim.net/item/8412/ I wrote over three years ago on September 6th, 2001 entitled “quit that shit”:http://revjim.net/item/8412/. Since I’m sure most of you won’t bother to read it, I’ll quote the important parts here for you:

bq. I got to the portion of my morning at which I smoke a cigarette [and] I realized I was out of cigarettes. Frantically I searched the apartment, knowing there had to be one forgotten cigarette left in a pack somewhere. I find nothing. I put on some pants, throw on my shoes, grab my keys and run down to my truck to see if there are any in there. I search under the seats, in the glove box, in the back seat…. nothing. I go upstairs and search again, thinking maybe I missed a spot. Still nothing. I can feel a strong sense of worry and anxiety creeping up in me as I frantically pace about looking in the same places, now, over and over again. Eventually I realize that I am not going to find a cigarette. I take a deep breath and tell myself “It is no big deal. I’ll just take my shower, and then grab a pack on the way to work.” I am okay with that. I sit down at the computer and see my cup of coffee sitting there. Again I want a cigarette. I feel the anxiety rush through me again. I start looking again, clearly a sign of the insane. As if that wasn’t low enough, I see a half-smoked cigarette in the ash tray. Was it from last night? The night before? Do I care? No. I smoke it. Then I feel better. Then I realize how disgusting this addiction is.

That was one day. One time. One event. Over three years ago. Event’s like that were hardly a rare occurrence. I am so grateful to no longer be a slave to that demon. Even if I never got anything else out of being a non-smoker, not ever having another day like that one makes it well worth it.