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» I'm at work right now....my first day on the job at Overture.com, formerly Goto.com. I'm LOVING IT.....
AND, showing off my fray.com, hope bag that I got from my big brother for my birthday yesterday! How cool do I look?
Hope you are having a good day!
– Jenn { 10.8.01 @ 4:08pm }
» There are days when I forget about the small
bugers of life, the things that are not perfect,
the little spots on the canvas that obliterate the
big picture. Today, I am just glad to be alive,
healthy and hopefully, have a few more days to
ponder my soul and enjoy my existence, to find
pleasure in the moment and meaning in the ride
of life. At times it seems so complicated, and then
again, so simple.
– morris { 10.8.01 @ 5:15pm }
» There once was a Derek Powazek
Whose web site was never once called dreck
He started the Fray
Updates every day
More fun than the movie that's called "Shreck!"
How's dat? :D
– roe { 10.8.01 @ 5:18pm }
» This is not one of those days where I feel like reading. Actually, every day since this semester started has been that way since I'm required to be thoroughly immersed in classic Greek literature.
Which is why Design for Community has been sitting next to me for weeks and I haven't started reading it yet.
But I will, Derek, once I feel like reading more than, um, anything. Maybe I should do so soon since I'm also taking a course about virtual communities on the Internet.
– Nikolai { 10.8.01 @ 8:30pm }
» Whatever inpires you as you sit back and observe, promise you'll share it with us when you stand again. Find something beautiful. Make it a part of yourself.
Prolific young bucks grow into empty old men. Take a day.
-- This message was sponsored in part by The Hallmark Foundation and with the support of viewers like you.
– wesley { 10.8.01 @ 8:42pm }
» Around 1997 I stumbled onto the Fray. Specifically, this page. I remember exactly how I got there: from Justin's links.net site. Already excited by poring over Justin's life for a few hours, I was primed for Derek's "Stoked" piece.
I wanted to be stoked to come to work. I wanted to work with people I admired. Carl! Joey! Taylor! and Sean! Working alongside people who did what I did, and loved it, became my singular aim.
Many years later, at the last SXSW, I sat next to Derek for dinner. It was my first night in Austin and here I was sitting at a table with him, Lance, Matt, and Heather. I kept trying to work up the courage to tell him how much his piece meant to me. I thought I'd wait until he asked how I was doing...and then spring it on him.
"So Andre," he'd say, "how are you doing?"
"STOKED!" I'd exclaim, and I'd laugh and he'd laugh, and we would grin like a couple of idiots. You know one of those things that sounds really great when you're getting ready for dinner, but entirely stupid once the chance presents itself. So I smiled alot and said dumb things until he left.
Then at Fray Day 5 I ran into him again, and he was Derek-- grinning, happy, and stoked. I had coaxed my girlfriend into missing Dave Eggers so we could be at the event early. At the door I could hardly believe it when Heather told me Derek had been up a few nights ago reading and laughing at something I had written.
Stoked.
Anyway Derek, I just wanted to tell you that I am stoked. I have been stoked since I left that crappy job I was working at when I found you and the Fray. I forget sometimes how unstoked I used to be, but when I'm in a creative meeting, and I'm inventing some new idea about how to program the backend of a site, I look at my coworkers: Robbie, Amber, Eric, and James, and I think about how stoked I am to have all these people in my life.
Thanks Derek, you changed my life.
– some things are best { 10.9.01 @ 12:04am }
» "Jesus and I sat down and had a long talk. We've decided that it would be a good idea if I stopped drinking for awhile."
-overheard at a bar-
– bryan { 10.9.01 @ 4:39am }
» On drinking -
I didn't sit down with Jesus last Christmas, I sat down with my inner self. We decided that it would be a good idea if I stopped drinking for good. I've been sober for the better part of a year now. I don't miss booze one little bit.
On the current situation -
I've said enough elsewhere, and I just want to talk about something else here.
On San Francisco -
An amazing place, where you can do more or less as you wish, and be free to be who you want, and be accepted by someone, somewhere in the city.
On my job -
I am quitting in one week, to take a 2 week break, followed by a new job. Thank God for that, this place is doing my head in.
Okay, that's it from me. Hope you enjoyed the ramble!
– Tom Cosgrave { 10.9.01 @ 6:58am }
» Some words for Derek, because he asked.
It's turned cold in New England - cold enough to turn the leaves their trademarked palette of warm colours. The cold brought along a stiff wind today, and the pair of visitors have convinced the leaves to jump ship, falling to the ground just as I walk under their tree on my way to a language class.
The cold and wind are not the bitter breath of a season yet to come, but the contented sigh of a season whose promise is at the height of fulfillment. Breathing this air brings not the ache of extreme cold or the desire to run for scarf and gloves but a wash of refreshment and clarity.
Happy Autumn.
– Adrith { 10.9.01 @ 11:01am }
» Once upon a time, there was a pair of pants. They lived in the back of the rack in Bergberry's Department Store on the Lower Upper Southwest Side. They were not a happy pair of pants; they were nine sizes too big and seventy years out of date. They bided their time in the back of the rack, watching their trouserly brothers and sisters get bought and leave the store.
The pants surely would have sat there for all eternity, until, one day, the world of fashion declared that the Next Big Thing would be clothes that were nine sizes too big and seventy years out of date. And so, hipper-than-thou fasionistas fought tooth and claw to get to Bergberry's, where the pants were bought by an emaciated model from Hungary who paid Old Man Bergberry so much for the pants that he closed the store and retired with his bride to Aruba. And so the pants became the toast of the fashion world for a few weeks, until they were thrown out when the fashion world decided that wearing sauteed vegetables would be the Next Big Thing.
But the pants were found by a nice teenage girl from the suburbs, who gave them a nice home, where they lived out the rest of their pantly days. And so, everyone lived happily ever after, except for the emaciated model from Hungary, who finally got so hungry that she ate her whole outfit at once (as it was made of a nice eggplant and zuccini remoulade) and exploded.
The End.
– Adam { 10.9.01 @ 2:51pm }
» For some reason, Adam, the lonely pants story is just what I needed. Thanks! :-)
– christopher { 10.10.01 @ 10:18am }
» Some words from the windy Northwest. Up here, it already feels like winter -- it's overcast, occasionally raining, and a lot colder than a few weeks ago. It was odd to come back from a week-long Hawaii vacation and have the weather be so different from when I left. Still, it seems like a good time to sit still, reflect, absorb -- my life for most of the summer has been pretty frantic, with a lot of travel and activity in general. The fireplaces I smell as I walk up the road to get the mail say, "Stay home."
– Carol Gunby { 10.10.01 @ 10:23am }
» Autumn words from a swedish comic strip called Rocky:
(our hero is sitting at a bus-stop shelter, in the fall. It's raining.)
On nights like this one just wants to rent a good film... light the fireplace... make some hot chocolate... and blow oneself into tiny bits!
– Christian { 10.10.01 @ 11:33am }
» Today is one of those days when reading seems better than writing, and it's reminding me how lazy I've bcome. Sure, I've had ideas, but where are they now? They're not OUT THERE. They're still inside, watching the other kids play.
– Sarah { 10.10.01 @ 12:00pm }
» "What are you going to be when you grow up?"
"Me, only bigger."
I found it yesterday in a tea box.
– jed { 10.10.01 @ 5:06pm }
» Autumn is sneaking into my temporary home. Afternoon temperatures are down to the mid-eighties, and finally running is tolerable again. The dog is walked a bit further, we linger downtown and marvel at shrubbery in bloom this late. =
Soon the winter residents and tourists will arrive and we will leave.
I'm counting the days, hours until my new life begins - 15 days and 1048.5 miles to go . . . .
In the meantime, I gather reasons never to work night shift again.
– V { 10.10.01 @ 10:36pm }
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