21 MAY 2004:
I think I have been in stasis for what appears to be well over a year now. Funny, I don't remember ordering the black pills on toast...
I have a secret. I think I am getting less well versed in design as I continue on this path. It's possible that my brains are leaking out, but more likely that they've just passed their expiration date. Remind me to go get a new one next time the Warden is handing out clues.
27 FEB 2003:
Now I feel normal again, updating my cell wall about as consistently as I do laundry (read: not very)
I had two victories today which have encouraged me to push on in my quest to be a better designer, to rise from the level of average web hack to actual web designer. I created a couple of signatures (my first) and received relatively positive feedback on them, and I am learning enough about css to build sites with them installed in the beginning phase of development. I am going back to each site I've done (not all that many) and rewriting them to adhere to a cleaner and more organised style (doctypes and css). This is like trying to learn how to crawl after you've been walking for years. I thought I knew what I was doing, or at least enough to produce decent things on the web. Now that I know how far I truly am from the mark, I can't just accept this mediocrity. I've got to respond. So, I am deleting a bunch of <br>'s, a slew of font tags, and some other sloppy coding from every single page, every single site. It's the difference between telling a lie or telling the truth - not everyone will know if you lie, but your sleep will never be as peaceful. When I do sleep, I want it to be a good one.
24 FEB 2003:
Isn't this sort of strange, updating a cell wall so regularly when I can't balance my own checkbook once a month? I guess solitary confinement really is working its special magic on me. Either that or it's all these pills that I have been given.
Currently, I am waiting in the "Live Chat" window for my web host. I have little hope of actually speaking to a human, but the blinking green light is a comfort in my dark cell. I am pondering whether or not to change web hosts due to a pessimistic feeling I have about their recent restructuring. It hasn't affected me yet, but I hear the death rattle. Everyone gets bought out sooner or later, and then it all goes to hell, right?
Still waiting, I find it funny that my question is about adding domain names to my account, essentially giving them more money, and they're not answering the virtual phone. What can I do? I am just a nameless, faceless inmate in the Asylum, Cell 1065.
23 FEB 2003:
I realise now just how little I know about Photoshop and web design in general. Today at lunch I saw the stuff that the Movers and Shakers of Block 9 put up on their walls. Lots more for me to learn, and my brain is already hurting! Of course, it could be the muffins they served at breakfast... (if those were really muffins...)
22 FEB 2003:
Today is the first day in my cell. I know I asked for a cell to myself, but I am seeing that solitary confinement might not have been what I bargained for. Aside from the hooded man with a knife who taps on my cell bars every three hours or so and the eerie whistling sound that's coming from under my bed, I am not sure that I feel all that comfortable. Don't get me wrong - the crumbling cinder block view is all I imagined (right down to the green oozing liquid in the corner), and I am crazy about the stained, itchy sheets. I just thought that all the voices in my head would have stopped by now.
The warden said he understood my hardships, and he was scheduling a private visit tomorrow from someone he referred to simply as The Rectifier. I can't wait to be, um.. rectified, even though I am not quite sure what that means...
