. elsewhere . . letters from the inaccessible .


5 December 2000


Netscape 6's CSS parser doesn't seem to want to listen to CLASS definitions if it's not for text. Forms? No way, can't fiddle with the colors. Table cells? Nope. I spent some time Friday night trying to get Elsewhere into a more flexible coding structure and, lo and behold, neither Netscape 4 nor 6 would listen to a <td class=tdmsg> tag where I'd defined a background color for the class.


I never told anyone that I almost chose not to go to UCLA because of her. I always, always knew that I didn't stand a chance with her, for the simple reason that I'm not of the same race, and the opinions of her parents were well documented, a standard which could not be circumvented enough for me. People who think that caucasians can't be victims of racism are mistaken, but that's a different message altogether.

And you know what? I'm very happy for her. But I must admit that I'm a bit sad for me. This guy that she's marrying, he's a good guy. Brilliant, accomplished, and he answered a question that I wouldn't have even understood; he solved a problem the language of which I do not yet speak. And for her, I'm happy. Because she's happy. And because the answer that he was right for her wasn't easy to come by: that means she's grown up. It's not supposed to be easy; if it is, I'm immediately suspicious. But I'd always thought, just in the back of my mind, that maybe, just maybe I had a chance. I wonder if she noticed when she told me how it hurt, just a little, to smile, say how wonderful it was, and give her a hug, while part of me was thinking this hope, too, has extinguished.

But they've been mostly different

9 days in a row with a headache of some sort. I don't know what that means. The thing is, they've all been different. 2 migraines (with the loci on opposite sides, no less), 4 sinus-oriented headaches (these switched sides after a 2-day respite, from behind by right eye to behind my left), and 3 non-descript tensiony-migrainey pains in me gulliver. To hell with it, maybe I'm getting a hint that I need to learn to deal with it like I used to.

musings of señor prod.

Welcome home, Perry. We all missed you. And now that you're back, I see in just one day how much further I have to go, and I wonder if I'll ever get there.


©2001 Timothy A. Clark -|-