From here to central Georgia (and back) is something over four hundred miles. Four hundred miles of alterna-rock radio stations (who don't really seem to remember what they're the alternative to) and trees that stand politely out of the way of the gently-winding interstate.We are eleven days away from dragon*con, and the pie-in-the-sky battle plans are cementing themselves into plans for the weekend after next. Oompa is recovering from brown recluse bites on his legs and can't do much lifting, so Jeremy (our very own rock-steady Mr. Sulu) will be his second-in-command this year.

Ahab had his whale.
Quixote had his windmills.
I have a content management system.
But I will finish mine. 

A year ago, this was a quixotic task; something to be talked about in the realm of what-if with Jeff on a trip to Birmingham.  A movie—one or another—after all, we see many.

"What if," he said, after listening to me go on for quite some time, "you wrote something yourself?  Have you given that any thought?"

Geof likes to remind me that all journeys begin with a single step. 

I'm running out of excuses, really.  While I'm not exactly allowed to link to it yet, I can tell you that I got Jeff's site designed, finished, and ready to roll yesterday.  All it lacks is content.  My famed, never-ending Sites To Do list is now down to one:  the redesign of Kat's site.

Many things on my mind today.

Grocery shopping done. I got my CDs in from SecondSpin—more CDs purchased because I found music on Napster and wanted copies that I could play on the stereo and not just on my computer. Got my knives resharpened. Talked with friends.