I'm probably the last one on the digital planet to realize this, but there is a very nifty feature included in Photoshop which allows one to semi-painlessly create photo galleries for the web. No more hand-coded, tedious little photo gallery projects. Now that I have made this discovery, I finally posted a couple more photo pages! The format is different and far superior to that of my older galleries, bear with me and I will eventually apply this photoshop magic to all of them.

During my adventures in California over the summer, I picked up a local newspaper published in that small, curious town of Pt Reyes Station. It's a quaint little paper, filled with weekly gossip about the local farmers and tid-bits of left-over stories from the rest of the state. (Might I add, just for the sake of complaining and listening to myself talk, that this paper needs a bit of a re-design, as well as new journalists, and a new editor. Really, for 6 or 7 pages, we don't need five different fonts for headlines, and by golly gee, stick to the grid people! One day when I return, you, I'm gonna propose a delightful new layout. I'm not even gonna talk about the web site.) I'm actually surprised they have their own paper, to be honest. The town I grew up in, not much larger than Pt Reyes St, did not have any kind of periodical, aside from our high school year book. Perhaps technology and the ability to publish just about anything you want to in this day and age, has allowed these teeny, tiny little paradises to circulate information faster than the women at the local salon. Anyhoo, or anyway, as some prefer to say, I did have a point.

Oh yes, my new favorite pastime. The paper, Pt Reyes Light (cleverly taken from the name of one of the west coast's most beloved landmarks, the Pt Reyes Lighthouse), has an online edition, and my favorite part – Sheriff's Calls! You too, can enjoy the hilarity of what is published in their local paper, and what many of these folks get to hear on their personal police scanners at home. Of course, like anywhere in the world, there are serious calls placed that simply aren't that funny. But these are basically all the wonderful little things, we in the larger cities, would never hear about, ever (at least not through any media resources, except maybe the Onion. The man who was talking too loudly on the sidewalk; the woman who thought her cat was dead, but just asleep; the kids who littered downtown while people weren't watching. Here are a sampling of my recent favorites, as well as my initial reactions while reading them:

Deputies at 9:57 a.m. Sunday received a report that three cars were illegally parked along Lucas Valley Road at Big Rock.
Holy crap, your totally kidding right? They should know better than to park on the side of the road! These people are totally going to hell, evil-doers.
Medics responded to Olema-Bolinas Road at 7:50 p.m. Saturday when someone had an allergic reaction to nuts.
This sucks, to be allergic to nuts, I have friends who can't eat nuts and it makes me very, very sad. They will never know the joy behind eating a cashew.
Sir Francis Drake Boulevard at 10:10 p.m. Friday Somebody under a bridge was yelling and screaming. A deputy went to the bridge and found a man "singing at the top of his lungs."
If it wasn't a jolly troll, it was a hobo, get used to it. I lived next to a few bridges in my day, and aside from the random dead guy, I heard heroine addicts screaming at the top of their lungs almost daily. After a while, it becomes routine, no one pays attention and they will quickly get over their bad high and either die or move to another bridge.
A woman on Calle del Mar Sunday Told deputies she needed assistance in turning a schoolbus around because of excessive traffic and pedestrians.
Aren't bus drivers supposed to have licenses and training for this sort of thing? Turn on your hazards, honk your horn and slowly begin the process of turning around. Most cars I know will see a giant yellow bus and stop for it, the pedestrians, also, will eventually get out of the way when confronted with a giant yellow bus.
An Olema-Bolinas Road resident at 3:05 p.m. Sunday complained that juveniles in three kayaks had been scaring seals in Bolinas Lagoon; however, the youths had now left.
Tragic, yes, the scaring of seals. I am very fond of seals and too would be upset if they were scared of children. I myself am scared of children. And since the kids are no longer there, that makes it extra, uber-bad.

I'm falling for a band. Like, seriously falling madly in love with them, I want them to be my boyfriend. No, not the actual boys in the band, I want the music of Explosions in the Sky* to be my boyfriend. Explosions will delight your senses with their hauntingly beaufitul post-rock sound, think Mogwai, and God Speed You! Black Emporer. They are currently on tour, watch for them in your local papers (sorry, US and Canada only).

*This music is not for the emotionally unstable. Expect a tear or two to fall while listening.

"… even though you cannot feel his scent around your shoulders, he can be found---in books and sounds and new bodies and in places too. i was once told about how an arabic poet sung the wonders of how a distant lover becomes not just in front of him, but with distance, becomes everywhere."

Thank you D, for those amazing words and for your wisdom.

You've gotta wonder what people think when they Google "rashes from tequila allergies" or "people with mustaches" and they end up on my site. I can't stop laughing, I'm so sorry Mr or Ms Person with tequila allergies, I sure hope it clears up soon and that I had nothing to do with it.

I'm completely obsessed with slab serifs right now, I just want to get that out there, up front, before you get to know me a little too well. Actually, any typeface with some serious, chunkified attitude is alright, er, damned fine in my book. I just decided I want to write a proposal in nothing but Clarendon and Franklin Gothic. Why don't I just go completely mad and set all the body copy in Egyptian Extended Bold with a little FF Zapata (Black, if you dare me) for my headers? Billboards, people, I need a billboard.*

I've had a little coffee this evening and I've been trying to memorize the counters of all the double-story a's that I can possibly fit into my wobbly brain and well I can already tell you that tonight I will fall asleep by counting foundries and might even dream about getting kicked in the ass by the spur of a Helvetica cap G.

*I wonder if you could get a client to take a drive along the interstate to 'get' your next big idea – just tell them, "Watch for the really big billboards, there will be five or six of them, each about 1/2 mile apart. Write down the messages from each, decifer them and get back to us. Trust us, you'll love it, we know what we are doing."

I have two days to do all the things I want to, then after that it is all about things I have to. I have an extraordinary urge to paint. I want to make tiny little paintings that fit in the palm of your hand, each one composed of entire alphabets. I want to make journals and sketch books out my massive paper collection, that I have just now decided has gotten way out of control. Proudly, I have ridded myself of clothing! Granted, most of it went into my empty suitcases for storage, but at least it is out of my way and of course there is a pile leaving the house entirely – there will be happy, needy people in Fluevogs and Banana Republic (see I do goods things).

Four months away from home made me miss my belongings. Coming home to them makes me wonder why I keep all this crap around. Don't get me wrong, I love my stuff; all the tiny pieces of paper, various bottles of glue, bazillions of pens that don't work and pencils with broken lead. And CDs, oh hell what am I going to do with the stacks of CDRs that I have absolutely no use for, but am afraid to get rid of? My walls are covered in things. Things I tell you, many things, lovely things, like giant letters [including my brand new @ sign], shiny stuff and danglies. But in such a small space, a space I will only see for less than one year, is it all necessary?

I'm ready to cut these damned nails. I can't type on normal keyboards (normal, meaning not on a laptop) and last night as I was ready to fight everyone at the airport, climbing over a mountain of over-sized baggage, digging for my bike, one of these long-ass appendages bent backwards to the point of blood-shed, and well, I about turned into a werewolf. Perhaps I will cut them off after I go to the liquor store.

AirTunes! Airport Express is alive and seamlessly streaming beautful iTunes through the apartment. Problem: The only outlet I can use is hidden behind a dresser and this is an issue because I want to look at it. I want people to walk in and go, "Hey, nice little white thing."

Oh, if you haven't noticed, I'm back in Canada. Nothing too exciting about that, so maybe I won't discuss it right now. I'm trying to ignore everything about being back – difficult task, yes, but I'm trying real hard. A giant grad project proposal due this week isn't helping matters much. This proposal is due on Thursday or something and well, I have to map out a year-long project. I know what I am doing, and believe me it is very exciting, but what was I doing for four months that I didn't even touch it? I've gotten really good and making things up as I go along, so all should be well. It may take some time to get visuals prepared for this project, but keep your eyes peeled and watch for bits and pieces of my new undertaking, only here, on zed tv.

I just have to say that I am very flattered this person listed my site as a "blog-spiration," under recommended reading. Thanks.

My last night in SF and I sit with my favorite bay area beer(s), tears sadly dripping down the side of my glass (ok, so I haven't really cried yet, but I assure you I will). I have said most of my goodbyes, at least the most important ones, I hate that part. I have a few more days left in California – a few spent in Napa, locked inside a house where I will try and find comfort in books and writing. Pt Reyes will see the last of me over the weekend and I will do my best to bring this adventure to a proper close. I'm missing this city and everything I have grown attached to, yet I haven't actually left yet. I know once I return to Vancouver, I will complain about how much I wish I was back in SF, how much I wish I was doing this and listening to that.

Time to look at the bright side of things. Friends! I will take them back with me, in spirit , and will of course, be back to drive them up the wall with my chatter and stupid jokes. Music! I scored big time with free tunes and saw some incredible bands these past few months. It will take me days to listen to all my new and future faves – thanks to dear Stewf and a fat (do I say phat in this case? I don't know. Perhaps it is time I get familiar with the street talk these kids are talkin these days) going away gift from Punchcut. The music will carry me back home and keep me afloat while I daydream about being back where I think I belong.

Thank you all, I don't think I can express my appreciation enough. I will miss each and every one of you.