I know, I know -- I haven't been keeping up with what's been going on with me lately. Mostly because, why would you give a damn? But also because, it would irrevocably dispel any illusion you may or may not have of "that twisted! living the life of luxury in San Francisco!" At least I have that going for me.

So anyway. Have you ever known something you didn't want to admit, and made up a convincing enough story that other people believed it too? And then somewhere along the line realized you're still going to have to pay for this mess, so you might as well come clean? Well, that just happened to me. Luckily, my general contractor is willing to work out a payment plan for the additional work I was hoping wouldn't have to be done, but obviously has to be done.

This may not make sense to anybody else -- and it's small comfort to me now -- but I consider this more of a rescue mission than an investment proposition. Guess I can't stand to see a great place that deserves more wasting away. Let's look at the pix one more time to see what I mean.





Yeah. I really can't see myself making dinner in that kitchen.

Oh! My title. So my general contractor tried to convince me I have to gut the entire top floor apartment. I really wasn't thinking that was necessary. We debated back and forth. He had many interesting arguments. I think my favorite was, "we're due for another earthquake -- better to have drywall than plaster." Great! That's just what every homeowner wants to hear before sinking a bunch of cash into a renovation. I have a better idea! What if I take out earthquake insurance, wait for the "big one" to strike, then rebuild on the insurance claim? That seems like the right answer to that scenario.

Anyway, tonight it's off to see The Killers, Modest Mouse, The Raconteurs, and The Shins at Bill Graham Auditorium (within walking distance of my soon-to-be-condemned hovel). After that I'm on a strict austerity program.

p.s. - this would be a great time for that contractor boyfriend to materialize. Anyone?

p.p.s. - Happy Birthday Tony! And to all you other Saggitarians. Mine's on Sunday!

Ever get the feeling computers have taken over the world, and there's no one at the wheel? I've had a rash of outright wrong automatic notifications lately, followed by infuriatingly futile attempts to find a human to right them.

"I'm sorry Dave, I'm afraid I can't do that..."

I'd like to ask them if they really mean, December 31, 3006. But I don't want to draw attention to the fact they haven't been charging me for the past year or so.

UPDATE:

I couldn't help myself. So now I have an open trouble ticket with them. Great! Just like old times.



UPDATE #2:

Just an update that all the files and accounts are moved over. Propagation has already begun for some domains here and others will happen over 24 hours.

Please let us know well before December 31, 2006 (not 3006) if you are missing files. After that date the old server will be gone.

THANK YOU!

Or you can upgrade for only 99 cents/month.

The latest development from the brave new world of social networking: FakeYourSpace.com, a new site that promises to hook up the socially inept with model-beautiful friends to spruce up their pages on MySpace and Facebook.

You can add these fake hot friends to your friends list and they will leave you messages and comments on your comment wall.

"FakeYourSpace makes it easy for any regular person to make it seem like they have a model for a friend. It doesn't stop there however," the site says.

The models will even pose as your lover, leaving any kind of message you would like. Want to make your ex jealous? No problem. Want to become more popular? The models will flirt with you on your comment wall.

I was just about to forward the mail that's collected for my ex-tenant when I noticed this was delivered to the wrong address. 620 Buchanan instead of 620 Grove.



I am so curious to see the photos inside! That would be wrong, right?