I dreamed last night that Martin Scorcese wanted me to be his girlfriend. I was like, “but dude, you have a wife.” And he was like, “that doesn’t matter.” I wasn’t particularly attracted to him, yet I was thrilled by the idea that this excellent film director would want me to be his girlfriend. But then I kept getting him confused with Francis Ford Copolla and then I woke up. That’ll teach me to not fall asleep with my electric blanket on.
Progress has been made in the content manager search. I want something that will let me easily update my web site. I could use something like Blogger, but most blogging things create annoying URLs like www.secret-passage.com/2003/03/28/ or even worse PHP urls like www.secret-passage.com/secret.php?new.template. That’s horrible. I don’t want question marks in URLs.
So I was originally going to write something in PHP. “PHP is easy! It’s really easy!” all the geek boys said. But then I tried to start doing stuff with it and realised that it was a meaningless, confusing, brain-hurting mess. So then Dylzno said he was writing something for his site that I could also use, but he hasn’t done that. Now he’s going to be adapting a previously written blog thing that should work nicely and not have any bullshit URLs.
The church building across the street is (I think) for sale. The church has run out of money and is going to sell it and have the new owner remove it. Then a new building with shops on the street and a church at the back will be built. The local residents association got all pissy about it. Someone seriously suggested that the church convert the building into a cafe. Yes, because what Mt Eden needs now is another latte factory.
Apparently the church is lovely on the inside, but on the outside it’s white and nondescript and pretty boring. It doesn’t really add anything to the area. The really excellent part is that most of the people complaining about the church being removed aren’t regular church-goers. They just like the idea of having this eye candy of an old building down their street.