As usual, this was a busy weekend. The constant battle between man and weed continues with the weeds winning 'fronds' down. Despite the loss on that front I did manage to clean up the refuse that was drug into my yard (as it always is) when the nephews visit the in-laws. More poorly behaved children I have never seen.
The Japanese Barberry's on the west side of the house are dying I'm afraid. Even the one specimen that survived the winter now shows signs of decline. I can only guess that the somewhat shady side of the house where they reside has caused them to be vulnerable to fungus. I suppose it's time to move them out into the yard somewhere proper. The kitchen is officially marked for tile and ready for my attention. I'm afraid that nothing but the most strictly quotidian attention to the area will satisfy my wife on this point and rightly so. She's been waiting for the tile to be done for what seems like ages so nothing sort of a couple weeks of devoted attention will likely pacify her about certain other unrelated points that cause this to be less diurnal than she'd prefer.
Our eldest today bought a Harry Potter book (though she's forced to remain 3-books behind the current one due to issues with content) and it almost made me wonder if I should bother myself to read the stupid things and be done with it. I hate to break with my tradition and read something inane and modern but one does sometimes wonder what the plebeians are doing with their time. Well, that is except read People magazine and watch television.
My wife once again placed an order at Snapfish to have a few dozen pictures printed. Just like last time she ordered a couple of postcards for my parents. One for my father who hands them to my stepmother and one for my real mother who tears them up as quickly as she can and throws them away. (Or at least we assume so. Some of them get mailed back to us.)
Oh, one item of interest from the news. Apparently someone retyped the first few chapters from a Jane Austen novel and submitted them to several publishers. Along with the one who recognized it and sent back a witty response the rest were rejections stating simply that the novel wouldn't sell or that it was an 'original idea' but not something people would want to read. Anyway, here's the whole story. It just goes to show where modern fiction has gone.
Sunday, July 22, 2007
7/20/07 - Greek to Me; Duckpin Bowling; "How to Work a Room"
Friday night we went out to dinner. Not an unusual happening to be sure but we went somewhere relatively fancy but at least the menu was sorted by price which I have to admit was pretty handy but it would have been nice if they'd drawn a big, bold line with a skull in the middle between $19 and $20. Regardless of the price, the food at Santorini's was pretty good and my wife seems to have agreed that Greek food is not something to run away from so that, despite the price, is worth the price of admission.
After that we found our way to Fountain Square for that most heinous variation on an otherwise good game, duckpin bowling. If the filth doesn't get you, the evilly sloping alleys will. I'd consider this pastime passable but conversation is very nearly impossible in such loud conditions and it would have been nice to have been able to hear the people around me talk to each other.
Speaking of speaking... I started reading a book in the vicinity of this day. It's completely out of character as it's called, "How to work a Room." Yeah, yeah. Get back on your chair. After 50 pages I'd gleaned a couple of useful facts. By 100 pages I was just about ready to tear the book in half just to guarantee that one copy of this bullshit out of the millions available would not poison another impressionable mind. Anyway, let's start with the good and useful things I was told. Yes, I know, they're obvious but I'm not sure anyone had told me these things specifically:
* If you go to a party and you're uncomfortable, then other people are too. When I mentioned this to my wife she reminded me of the July 4th party I 'ruined' about 13 months ago. It went something like this. We went to some distant friend's house where we were in company of several other people who were good friends with the hostess. They all sat about drinking heavily, talking about nothing and I sat quietly and waited for the party to end. This, apparently, was enough to ruin the party and it certainly ruined my attitude for the rest of the day. The lesson learned here is a simple one I think. If you're not enjoying yourself then just leave so you don't screw it up for everyone else. Fair enough.
* 93% of people in the world consider themselves shy. I think most of the time that I consider myself shy but really I'm not. If you wander into a topic that I know something about, I will talk incessantly and I'm always blabbering on about my innermost thoughts on here so I'm certainly not shy about talking when I have something to say. The important bit here though is that the hard part for most people is approaching others. So, if you approach them then you've done 90% of the work and you can go about the conversation. Amusingly, evidence for this was right at hand. I often talk to people at random in stores or whatever and people almost always react positively to what I have to say so people want to talk to you. People are, in general, ready to have a conversation. The key is getting over that initial hurdle and breaking down the initial barrier between people. Now that, I think I can try to do more effectively. At this point, I can't imagine people will think me any MORE of an ass no matter what I say so I have that going for me. The down side here is that I typically just DON'T have anything to say on most of the common topics of conversation. You want to talk about the science or mathematics or literature or computing or religion then I'm your man. Let's set a date. You want to talk about what diet Cher's on or what happened on American Idol last night.... um, no, not so much.
* People can sense what your real intentions are so you can't schmooze just to get something. Now this, I thought, was a damn interesting little tidbit and hopefully true. The author tells bits about how she's gotten all sorts of random perquisites from her smoozing. Tickets to shows, free crap, discounts, etc because of some incident she had in an elevator. That's all well and good and a nice thing to look forward to I suppose but really just random gravy. What I guess pisses me off most is that there are people out there who have to be told, "just don't do this to take advantage of people" while I sit here on my own with absolutely nothing going on. It's damn frustrating to try to put yourself out there for people and get blank stares in return. I take cookies across the street to the old couple at Christmas but I'm not even sure they eat them. I'd be happy to help the neighbors get their yard in order so maybe they could sell their house but they won't even acknowledge my greetings. We're just such isolationists in this country. Either that or I'm just too damn scary. Whatever the case it's annoying. It's not that I WANT to get a call at 4 a.m. from some friend who has a major problem but it would at least be nice if that were a possibility.
So the first 50 pages went about like that. I was relatively upbeat on the whole process but it was clear that the book was geared for sales types which I most definitely am NOT a sales type. Then we start getting into the 'how' phase. How to make contacts and break the ice and get the free flow of information going. Sounds good doesn't it?
* The book recommends practicing a self-introduction. OK. Here's the best one I could think of:
**** Hi! I'm Rob! Now, I'm only here as part of a court-order. 'Socialization re-adjustment phase' of my parole they call it. Anyway, when we gone done talking there are some forms the judge would like you to fill out if you could.... Ma'am? Where are you...
* Practice your smalltalk. Look through the news and find 2 or 3 interesting stories and read them so you'll be prepared. Read People magazine so you can be aware of all the latest goings on.
It was at this point, that I measured the book to see if it could fit down the toilet. So basically, the key to successful smalltalk is to go read something you wouldn't ordinarily so that perhaps you'll have something to say that people might find interesting. Well I'm sorry but that's just a bunch of horse shit. If the idea of socializing with other people requires me to read fvcking People magazine then I'll just sit quietly and leave when I think it's no longer rude to do so. What the hell kind of lasting relationship is based on that sort of? Am I going to have to read People magazine every week/month/whatever for the rest of my life to sustain such a relationship? I'm looking for people to be friends with, to have interesting conversations with. Not sell them stool softener and rubber cane tips.
The first person to express a desire for this book gets it. Assuming, of course, that they can catch it as I hurl it at them.
After that we found our way to Fountain Square for that most heinous variation on an otherwise good game, duckpin bowling. If the filth doesn't get you, the evilly sloping alleys will. I'd consider this pastime passable but conversation is very nearly impossible in such loud conditions and it would have been nice to have been able to hear the people around me talk to each other.
Speaking of speaking... I started reading a book in the vicinity of this day. It's completely out of character as it's called, "How to work a Room." Yeah, yeah. Get back on your chair. After 50 pages I'd gleaned a couple of useful facts. By 100 pages I was just about ready to tear the book in half just to guarantee that one copy of this bullshit out of the millions available would not poison another impressionable mind. Anyway, let's start with the good and useful things I was told. Yes, I know, they're obvious but I'm not sure anyone had told me these things specifically:
* If you go to a party and you're uncomfortable, then other people are too. When I mentioned this to my wife she reminded me of the July 4th party I 'ruined' about 13 months ago. It went something like this. We went to some distant friend's house where we were in company of several other people who were good friends with the hostess. They all sat about drinking heavily, talking about nothing and I sat quietly and waited for the party to end. This, apparently, was enough to ruin the party and it certainly ruined my attitude for the rest of the day. The lesson learned here is a simple one I think. If you're not enjoying yourself then just leave so you don't screw it up for everyone else. Fair enough.
* 93% of people in the world consider themselves shy. I think most of the time that I consider myself shy but really I'm not. If you wander into a topic that I know something about, I will talk incessantly and I'm always blabbering on about my innermost thoughts on here so I'm certainly not shy about talking when I have something to say. The important bit here though is that the hard part for most people is approaching others. So, if you approach them then you've done 90% of the work and you can go about the conversation. Amusingly, evidence for this was right at hand. I often talk to people at random in stores or whatever and people almost always react positively to what I have to say so people want to talk to you. People are, in general, ready to have a conversation. The key is getting over that initial hurdle and breaking down the initial barrier between people. Now that, I think I can try to do more effectively. At this point, I can't imagine people will think me any MORE of an ass no matter what I say so I have that going for me. The down side here is that I typically just DON'T have anything to say on most of the common topics of conversation. You want to talk about the science or mathematics or literature or computing or religion then I'm your man. Let's set a date. You want to talk about what diet Cher's on or what happened on American Idol last night.... um, no, not so much.
* People can sense what your real intentions are so you can't schmooze just to get something. Now this, I thought, was a damn interesting little tidbit and hopefully true. The author tells bits about how she's gotten all sorts of random perquisites from her smoozing. Tickets to shows, free crap, discounts, etc because of some incident she had in an elevator. That's all well and good and a nice thing to look forward to I suppose but really just random gravy. What I guess pisses me off most is that there are people out there who have to be told, "just don't do this to take advantage of people" while I sit here on my own with absolutely nothing going on. It's damn frustrating to try to put yourself out there for people and get blank stares in return. I take cookies across the street to the old couple at Christmas but I'm not even sure they eat them. I'd be happy to help the neighbors get their yard in order so maybe they could sell their house but they won't even acknowledge my greetings. We're just such isolationists in this country. Either that or I'm just too damn scary. Whatever the case it's annoying. It's not that I WANT to get a call at 4 a.m. from some friend who has a major problem but it would at least be nice if that were a possibility.
So the first 50 pages went about like that. I was relatively upbeat on the whole process but it was clear that the book was geared for sales types which I most definitely am NOT a sales type. Then we start getting into the 'how' phase. How to make contacts and break the ice and get the free flow of information going. Sounds good doesn't it?
* The book recommends practicing a self-introduction. OK. Here's the best one I could think of:
**** Hi! I'm Rob! Now, I'm only here as part of a court-order. 'Socialization re-adjustment phase' of my parole they call it. Anyway, when we gone done talking there are some forms the judge would like you to fill out if you could.... Ma'am? Where are you...
* Practice your smalltalk. Look through the news and find 2 or 3 interesting stories and read them so you'll be prepared. Read People magazine so you can be aware of all the latest goings on.
It was at this point, that I measured the book to see if it could fit down the toilet. So basically, the key to successful smalltalk is to go read something you wouldn't ordinarily so that perhaps you'll have something to say that people might find interesting. Well I'm sorry but that's just a bunch of horse shit. If the idea of socializing with other people requires me to read fvcking People magazine then I'll just sit quietly and leave when I think it's no longer rude to do so. What the hell kind of lasting relationship is based on that sort of? Am I going to have to read People magazine every week/month/whatever for the rest of my life to sustain such a relationship? I'm looking for people to be friends with, to have interesting conversations with. Not sell them stool softener and rubber cane tips.
The first person to express a desire for this book gets it. Assuming, of course, that they can catch it as I hurl it at them.
7/19/07 - No Post for you
The post that would normally appear on 7/19 was eaten I'm afraid. Eaten by my desire to do a bit of extra work to make sure that 7/20 went a bit more smoothly. Yes, I realize that such behavior as 'overtime' is in pointed contradiction to everything I proselytize both on this thing and in real life. Yes, I realize that I've said countless time that working overtime leads only to the expectation of more overtime. Yes, I realize that success from conditions that are not conducive to success only cause those conditions to recur. All that said, Friday was much more pleasant given a small boost from Thursday night. Don't worry, I don't intend to make it a habit.
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
7/18/07 - Promoting Weeds; More about Smalltalk
Since I was a child I've had a special thing for plants. Their sheer diversity and vigor just astonishes me. Animals are unevolved when compared with their greener cousins. Because of this I've always had a plant or two around and some I've had for almost 20 years (not bad when you consider I'm only 34). Anyway, one of the sidebars in this interest has been a fascination with those plants that despite all our best efforts still manage to find a place our yards. I've spent a lot of time in the yard for the 10 years we've had a house and I've become familiar with a lot of these invaders. At least enough to refer to them by consistent names that I'm about 90% sure are completely wrong: "Bay Tree", "That thing that I think is a Cornflower", "That little tiny thing that looks a lot like a raspberry bush." Yesterday for the first time since in a LONG time I actually bothered to do something to try to familiarize myself with these with a bit more intimacy. I've officially promoted several specimens out of the status of 'weeds.' This is relatively simple since the moniker of weed is a somewhat arbitrary one and all one need to it dig a weed from the ground and put in a pot to make this simple transition. I'm all atwitter to see what these tiny and durable gnomes grow into with all the care I can give them. Most interesting perhaps to the general populous will be just HOW BIG will a dandelion get if you give it optimal growing conditions? Ironically, I think I may have accidentally killed my first attempt to transplant a dandelion. Those taproots are just too long to make them easily adopted.
The second bit of wind for this post is yet more crap about smalltalk. I'm pretty sure I've covered this in some vague way in the past and acknowledged to myself (if not to the blog) that smalltalk, while completely obnoxious to my sensibilities of not wasting words, sadly required. This all came up again because one of my associates from work sent along an interview with the author of "How to work a Room." Now, anyone who knows me at ALL knows that I'd sooner eat the entire contents of my 'sharps jar' in the garage than 'work a room.' Despite that, I'm apparently going to obtain and read this book because it has become apparent that this idea of 'random socializing' is really the ONLY way to get what I want out of other people. For my entire life (adult or otherwise) I've been looking for that "Fred and Barney" (you know, those guys from the Flintstones) type friendship with someone else. And no, not a "Bert and Ernie" type friendship, I think we all know what was going on there. My wife can call up any one of about 4 or 5 people and ask them to go shopping with her. It's frigging magic of some sort. If I want someone to go to the bookstore with... well, I can probably BEG someone into going if I have to but even the list of people I'd consider begging would be pretty short and 1 of those 2 candidates is my father-in-law.
In a way, it's deeply frustrating because I'm not entirely certain what the problem is though there are plenty of candidates.
* Am I simply too nerdy for people in this area? That's highly doubtful as I've met some delightfully nerdy people.
* Am I too much of an ass? That's probably potentially part of it. I am relatively self-absorbed and tend to neglect people in favor of... well, random blog entries and long lists of dry literature.
* Are people in this country just not friendly as they used to be? Perhaps culture has changed so we don't seek this out as we used to? Perhaps partly but I cannot believe that this is generally the case. The more I see of other people the more I realize we're all basically the same except for he bells and whistles.
* Have I simply failed to see the right people in the right places and failed to recognize them when I find them? Most assuredly so. This is at least one problem that the smalltalk bit may help with. As a mechanism for sussing out like-minded people smalltalk has no substitute so perhaps making that work is the right answer. At this point though, there just aren't a whole lot of people about. I work from home. In an average week I talk to exactly 3 adults and they're all related to me. This should probably change before I go totally mad.
All that said, there is a VERY small contingent of people that still bother to seek me out on a regular basis. Perhaps I should start by being more attentive to them and perhaps they'll introduce me to all their friends.
The second bit of wind for this post is yet more crap about smalltalk. I'm pretty sure I've covered this in some vague way in the past and acknowledged to myself (if not to the blog) that smalltalk, while completely obnoxious to my sensibilities of not wasting words, sadly required. This all came up again because one of my associates from work sent along an interview with the author of "How to work a Room." Now, anyone who knows me at ALL knows that I'd sooner eat the entire contents of my 'sharps jar' in the garage than 'work a room.' Despite that, I'm apparently going to obtain and read this book because it has become apparent that this idea of 'random socializing' is really the ONLY way to get what I want out of other people. For my entire life (adult or otherwise) I've been looking for that "Fred and Barney" (you know, those guys from the Flintstones) type friendship with someone else. And no, not a "Bert and Ernie" type friendship, I think we all know what was going on there. My wife can call up any one of about 4 or 5 people and ask them to go shopping with her. It's frigging magic of some sort. If I want someone to go to the bookstore with... well, I can probably BEG someone into going if I have to but even the list of people I'd consider begging would be pretty short and 1 of those 2 candidates is my father-in-law.
In a way, it's deeply frustrating because I'm not entirely certain what the problem is though there are plenty of candidates.
* Am I simply too nerdy for people in this area? That's highly doubtful as I've met some delightfully nerdy people.
* Am I too much of an ass? That's probably potentially part of it. I am relatively self-absorbed and tend to neglect people in favor of... well, random blog entries and long lists of dry literature.
* Are people in this country just not friendly as they used to be? Perhaps culture has changed so we don't seek this out as we used to? Perhaps partly but I cannot believe that this is generally the case. The more I see of other people the more I realize we're all basically the same except for he bells and whistles.
* Have I simply failed to see the right people in the right places and failed to recognize them when I find them? Most assuredly so. This is at least one problem that the smalltalk bit may help with. As a mechanism for sussing out like-minded people smalltalk has no substitute so perhaps making that work is the right answer. At this point though, there just aren't a whole lot of people about. I work from home. In an average week I talk to exactly 3 adults and they're all related to me. This should probably change before I go totally mad.
All that said, there is a VERY small contingent of people that still bother to seek me out on a regular basis. Perhaps I should start by being more attentive to them and perhaps they'll introduce me to all their friends.
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
7/17/07 - Fred Allen; Little Women Concludes
"Man is born for action Not to be occupied, and not to exist, are for him the same thing." - Voltaire
I completed my perusal of "The American Scholar" for Summer 2007 and I have to admit it's got a lot of something but I'm not entirely sure what it is. I simply could not wrap my interest around the lengthy article about Alger Hiss that made the cover. Something about such contemporary history doesn't ring my bell. The Love on Campus article was, frankly, idiotic at best and argued inanely for far too long. The other non-fiction bits I found acceptable though I'm not sure I honestly believe that a stroke victim who lost the entire speech center of his brain recovered well enough to write so well as in the 'mem, mem, mem' article. Perhaps I'm being overly cynical but that seems miraculous. The fiction submissions for this quarter were phenomenal and make me remember just how engaging modern fiction has become. Of course it helps that fiction not written 150 years ago is much more personally relatable but the overall quality is much better than one might expect. The icing to the current issue for me though was the article on Fred Allen. It really made me want to go back and start listening to old time radio again. Quite a fascinating personage...
Alright, Little Women is back on the shelf. I'll admit that I could not take another 200 pages of literary criticism but I did skim enough of it to realize that the opinions on this seemingly simple text are bogglingly complex. Some, of course, laud the book but the majority seem to find some overwhelming fault. A few point out that the book gives young readers completely the wrong idea about how life really works. I can see this argument as, except for the long-foreshadowed death of Beth, the whole work is almost sickeningly sweet. If women of any century expect life to go as described by Alcott then they are in for a rude awakening. More common than this complaint is the gutting of Jo. She goes from an independent and vibrant woman to a simpering wife. Some reviewers go so far as to call this 'murder' and in a respect it is. The book does seem to indicate strongly that for women there are only really two choices in life. Either you get married [Meg, Amy, Jo] or you're dead [Beth] (or as good as). No matter how intelligent or independent you are the eventual destination is marriage at which point you're considered secondary to your husband. I can see how this would not sit well with any feminists in the crowd. In any case, devilishly complex when you get down to it. Jason and the Golden Fleece stands next in the reading queue.
I'm sure you're ready for your verbal yoga for today... "Fred Allen, that coruscating personality of radio and screen, always noted that the artifice by which Warner Brothers denied the verisimilitude of Foghorn Leghorn and his Senator Claghorn was appalling. Sadly the complex palimpsest of the American legal system never allowed him to gain any recompense for the theft."
I completed my perusal of "The American Scholar" for Summer 2007 and I have to admit it's got a lot of something but I'm not entirely sure what it is. I simply could not wrap my interest around the lengthy article about Alger Hiss that made the cover. Something about such contemporary history doesn't ring my bell. The Love on Campus article was, frankly, idiotic at best and argued inanely for far too long. The other non-fiction bits I found acceptable though I'm not sure I honestly believe that a stroke victim who lost the entire speech center of his brain recovered well enough to write so well as in the 'mem, mem, mem' article. Perhaps I'm being overly cynical but that seems miraculous. The fiction submissions for this quarter were phenomenal and make me remember just how engaging modern fiction has become. Of course it helps that fiction not written 150 years ago is much more personally relatable but the overall quality is much better than one might expect. The icing to the current issue for me though was the article on Fred Allen. It really made me want to go back and start listening to old time radio again. Quite a fascinating personage...
Alright, Little Women is back on the shelf. I'll admit that I could not take another 200 pages of literary criticism but I did skim enough of it to realize that the opinions on this seemingly simple text are bogglingly complex. Some, of course, laud the book but the majority seem to find some overwhelming fault. A few point out that the book gives young readers completely the wrong idea about how life really works. I can see this argument as, except for the long-foreshadowed death of Beth, the whole work is almost sickeningly sweet. If women of any century expect life to go as described by Alcott then they are in for a rude awakening. More common than this complaint is the gutting of Jo. She goes from an independent and vibrant woman to a simpering wife. Some reviewers go so far as to call this 'murder' and in a respect it is. The book does seem to indicate strongly that for women there are only really two choices in life. Either you get married [Meg, Amy, Jo] or you're dead [Beth] (or as good as). No matter how intelligent or independent you are the eventual destination is marriage at which point you're considered secondary to your husband. I can see how this would not sit well with any feminists in the crowd. In any case, devilishly complex when you get down to it. Jason and the Golden Fleece stands next in the reading queue.
I'm sure you're ready for your verbal yoga for today... "Fred Allen, that coruscating personality of radio and screen, always noted that the artifice by which Warner Brothers denied the verisimilitude of Foghorn Leghorn and his Senator Claghorn was appalling. Sadly the complex palimpsest of the American legal system never allowed him to gain any recompense for the theft."
Monday, July 16, 2007
7/16/07 - Having a Life; Little Women Text Wrap-up
Ah yes, here we are again. Hey, it's been a solid week and I think and I've posted some random rot every single day. Some days twice. While I'd guess that this daily mental excrescence puts any random person who may be reading to sleep I have to admit that it has helped me put the days in focus. I have a horrible memory so I'd have already forgotten the story about the bathroom graffiti if not for the fact that it's right there in black and white. If I can keep this up for a year this'll be really cool to look back on. Anyway, more excrescence less meta-excrescence.
As I was pulling up the very last little bit of the linoleum today (you know, the bit in the corner that's always glued down and REALLY hard to get up) I was thinking about what to write about today. Conveniently, I remembered something that somebody said to me the other day and my mind wandered to how absurd a statement it was. They said that they didn't write in their blog because if other people at their place of work saw it there would be trouble. Not "I'm ratting out my friend who steals from work" type trouble but "if people at work see that I have free time to write in a blog they'll wonder why I'm not working more" type trouble. On hearing this initially I was somewhat flabbergasted. So basically, what the speaker was saying was that if he shows signs that he has any sort of a life outside work then that'll make trouble. Have we really fallen that far in this country? Are we all so addicted to 'getting ahead' that we can't do anything but work at our 104-hour a week jobs for fear others will think we're slackers?
Well if that's the case then that's just sad and I'm going to continue to blog quite inanely and voluminously for exactly the same reason. In fact... Hey! Look at me employer! Yeah, I work for you and look at this. I still have time to read a book EVERY SINGLE NIGHT. Yeah. For HOURS and HOURS I do this. And I work in the garden. And, oh yeah, I use some of the money you give me to put new floors in my house. I wasn't so crazy with work that I couldn't handle what you give me AND do other things too! So HA to your crazy life-controlling scheme... ( well, or to the interpretation of your workers that in order to be a good employee you have to make trash of the rest of your life...)
And furthermore... you know what this means?!? Do ya? Well, for one thing it means that it's just possible I'll not go insane any time soon. It also means that I'll be a relatively OK employee for a lot longer than if I let you totally control my life with overwork! The funny thing is, that because I'm not constantly working I'll probably actually work more effectively. Some might even say to the point where you can't even TELL that I'm not working 102-hour weeks like the other people in the company who are all walking around with stressed-out and zombie-eyed expressions. So take THAT, oh companies who hate to see evidence that their employees have lives, and I'll see YOU tomorrow morning at 7:30a.m. ready to do whatever you tell me to but right now... I'm sharpening my saw... [the author would like to take this opportunity to wretch violently at this sad but necessary reference to 7-habits of highly effective people.]
"Rob?" you might say. "When you're not writing directionless missives to people who aren't really reading and to general concepts like 'employers' what DO you do with all your time?" I'm glad you asked that. Today marks the end of Little Women (or at least the text proper) and I'll admit in the realm of happy sugarplum fantasy this is quite a tasty morsel. But, since this little tome is on the 'Norton Critical Editions' side of the infinite reading TODO list the real text is only half the story and now we move on to the 'critical' part. It is positively FASCINATING to read what Alcott herself thought of the book. If you've been reading along you'll remember the episode in which Jo is writing 'sensational' literature to make some extra money and later in a fit of guilt burns her manuscripts. Despite its commercial success, Alcott thought her own novel was a bit of sensational tripe and referred to it as 'her stupid little book.' We also hear about some of the fan mail she received from adoring fans begging to know what would happen in the second volume of the novel. It's all very J.K. Rowling as she describes it. She further laments the need to bow to her publisher's wishes and 'marry off' her characters to close the book but declares categorically, "I won't marry Joe to Laurie to please anyone" so at least some of her artistic integrity is intact. Lastly, the text illustrates the clear point that you write nothing so well as what you've actually lived through and this, for Alcott was largely an autobiographical novel. Nothing else was as close to life or met with such commercial success for her.
And finally, today's mental yoga for those so inclined... "The good doctor, in spite of his powerful philoprogenitiveness and proclivity for didactic homily, found his children to be sad disappointments. His eldest turned out to be a nerdy hobbledehoy who always played victim to his scrapegrace of a younger brother."
As I was pulling up the very last little bit of the linoleum today (you know, the bit in the corner that's always glued down and REALLY hard to get up) I was thinking about what to write about today. Conveniently, I remembered something that somebody said to me the other day and my mind wandered to how absurd a statement it was. They said that they didn't write in their blog because if other people at their place of work saw it there would be trouble. Not "I'm ratting out my friend who steals from work" type trouble but "if people at work see that I have free time to write in a blog they'll wonder why I'm not working more" type trouble. On hearing this initially I was somewhat flabbergasted. So basically, what the speaker was saying was that if he shows signs that he has any sort of a life outside work then that'll make trouble. Have we really fallen that far in this country? Are we all so addicted to 'getting ahead' that we can't do anything but work at our 104-hour a week jobs for fear others will think we're slackers?
Well if that's the case then that's just sad and I'm going to continue to blog quite inanely and voluminously for exactly the same reason. In fact... Hey! Look at me employer! Yeah, I work for you and look at this. I still have time to read a book EVERY SINGLE NIGHT. Yeah. For HOURS and HOURS I do this. And I work in the garden. And, oh yeah, I use some of the money you give me to put new floors in my house. I wasn't so crazy with work that I couldn't handle what you give me AND do other things too! So HA to your crazy life-controlling scheme... ( well, or to the interpretation of your workers that in order to be a good employee you have to make trash of the rest of your life...)
And furthermore... you know what this means?!? Do ya? Well, for one thing it means that it's just possible I'll not go insane any time soon. It also means that I'll be a relatively OK employee for a lot longer than if I let you totally control my life with overwork! The funny thing is, that because I'm not constantly working I'll probably actually work more effectively. Some might even say to the point where you can't even TELL that I'm not working 102-hour weeks like the other people in the company who are all walking around with stressed-out and zombie-eyed expressions. So take THAT, oh companies who hate to see evidence that their employees have lives, and I'll see YOU tomorrow morning at 7:30a.m. ready to do whatever you tell me to but right now... I'm sharpening my saw... [the author would like to take this opportunity to wretch violently at this sad but necessary reference to 7-habits of highly effective people.]
"Rob?" you might say. "When you're not writing directionless missives to people who aren't really reading and to general concepts like 'employers' what DO you do with all your time?" I'm glad you asked that. Today marks the end of Little Women (or at least the text proper) and I'll admit in the realm of happy sugarplum fantasy this is quite a tasty morsel. But, since this little tome is on the 'Norton Critical Editions' side of the infinite reading TODO list the real text is only half the story and now we move on to the 'critical' part. It is positively FASCINATING to read what Alcott herself thought of the book. If you've been reading along you'll remember the episode in which Jo is writing 'sensational' literature to make some extra money and later in a fit of guilt burns her manuscripts. Despite its commercial success, Alcott thought her own novel was a bit of sensational tripe and referred to it as 'her stupid little book.' We also hear about some of the fan mail she received from adoring fans begging to know what would happen in the second volume of the novel. It's all very J.K. Rowling as she describes it. She further laments the need to bow to her publisher's wishes and 'marry off' her characters to close the book but declares categorically, "I won't marry Joe to Laurie to please anyone" so at least some of her artistic integrity is intact. Lastly, the text illustrates the clear point that you write nothing so well as what you've actually lived through and this, for Alcott was largely an autobiographical novel. Nothing else was as close to life or met with such commercial success for her.
And finally, today's mental yoga for those so inclined... "The good doctor, in spite of his powerful philoprogenitiveness and proclivity for didactic homily, found his children to be sad disappointments. His eldest turned out to be a nerdy hobbledehoy who always played victim to his scrapegrace of a younger brother."
Sunday, July 15, 2007
7/15/07 - Remodeling update; in God we Trust; More of Me; Inspiration in the Toilet; Little Women
You know, with weekends like this I'll be glad to get back to work for a little relaxation.
The guest bath finds itself another hairs breadth closer to completion as I scrubbed dutifully at the floor today and reset the toilet. The rest of the morning was shot by an inexplicable malaise that lasted even after several fruitless hours browsing the local bookmongers. Inspiration did strike later and my wife and I managed to heave off the linoleum in the kitchen in preparation for for the magnum opus of tiling the kitchen. I do not look forward to tiling in such tight spaces as the refrigerator nook.
One thing I did take note of while circumnavigating the city today was the ubiquity of 'In God We Trust' plates. While I think everyone should be free to express whatever they believe I am still waiting for the 'Whose God is it anyway?' plates to become available. I further wonder if the buyers of these plates realize that, unlike other specialty plates, there's no actual charity getting anything from their purchase. The pay the state the extra $45 for the plate and the state promptly keeps it. It seems to defeat the purpose unless the purpose is that of conspicuous consumption. Going back to the WWJD concept, I suspect that Jesus might just recommend that people simply give the $45 to a real charity rather than trying to advertise what good Christians they are on their bumper. That said, I still laugh at those bumper stickers that say, "In case of rapture this car will become unmanned." Ahh, the pompousness.
Yesterday one of my wife's friends said that I was finally starting to look healthy again. On further questioning she indicated that a few months ago I was looking gaunt. The only appropriate response I could think of was to blink back at her incredulously. At my lowest I was 237 pounds (down from 325 in college) and I'd hardly call that gaunt. Now at a jolly 245 I can't imagine those 8 pounds really make a difference. Clearly someone just caught me on a bad day.
So if you're ever in the Borders in Castleton take a visit to men's stall #2. If someone's in there just kick them out. Tell them you have important research to do. Now, as you walk in on the right you'll see some unpleasantness. Just ignore that. On the inside of the door you'll notice some Russian (well, something in Cyrillic anyway). Unless you know Russian ignore that too. Just to the left of the toilet paper holder you'll see a paragraph written in pen. I wish I'd had a camera to take a picture but basically the text goes something like this: "July 9th, 2007. From this day forward I solemnly pledge to get my life together. I'm going to go back and graduate from college. I'm going to give my girlfriend a reason to love me and be more responsible for my life. " I was honestly dumbfounded. This is a whole new level of bathroom graffiti that I'd really never expected to find. I wonder what ever happened with THAT anonymous wall scribbler?
Alright, on to less mundane bantering. I did pound out a few pages of Little Women tonight after the dust settled and one thing that really impresses me is the way she so readily references other literature. Every character is referred to a "Mrs. This" or a "Mr. That" from some novel of the time that her contemporary readers would have known. It seems that modern society is not nearly so well read though certainly if I said, "He was a real George Costanza" you'd know exactly what I'm saying. Perhaps it's all one in the same but it seems a shame that we've moved from being able to readily quote Shakespeare and Dickens at the drop of a hat to memorizing lines from "Full Metal Jacket."
Lastly, while on my circuitous trip to my usual bookstore haunts I heard a bit on NPR about... well, I heard a bit about a lot of things but one thing in particular caught my attention. Specifically, someone has done a rather obvious study that reading Shakespeare makes you more intelligent. Now, as much total bullshit as that statement is it's never a bad thing to put your mind through a few textual acrobatics and herpaps hiccup a new word or three. So I close tonight's post with a few words picked out from tonight's reading.
"After much study and careful thought Diane finally decided that Terrill's seeming complaisance was merely a diaphanous affectation of company loyalty and an attempt to curry favor in anticipation of his impending review. Now the only question that remained was how best to reap the tares while disturbing the rest of the department as little as possible."
The guest bath finds itself another hairs breadth closer to completion as I scrubbed dutifully at the floor today and reset the toilet. The rest of the morning was shot by an inexplicable malaise that lasted even after several fruitless hours browsing the local bookmongers. Inspiration did strike later and my wife and I managed to heave off the linoleum in the kitchen in preparation for for the magnum opus of tiling the kitchen. I do not look forward to tiling in such tight spaces as the refrigerator nook.
One thing I did take note of while circumnavigating the city today was the ubiquity of 'In God We Trust' plates. While I think everyone should be free to express whatever they believe I am still waiting for the 'Whose God is it anyway?' plates to become available. I further wonder if the buyers of these plates realize that, unlike other specialty plates, there's no actual charity getting anything from their purchase. The pay the state the extra $45 for the plate and the state promptly keeps it. It seems to defeat the purpose unless the purpose is that of conspicuous consumption. Going back to the WWJD concept, I suspect that Jesus might just recommend that people simply give the $45 to a real charity rather than trying to advertise what good Christians they are on their bumper. That said, I still laugh at those bumper stickers that say, "In case of rapture this car will become unmanned." Ahh, the pompousness.
Yesterday one of my wife's friends said that I was finally starting to look healthy again. On further questioning she indicated that a few months ago I was looking gaunt. The only appropriate response I could think of was to blink back at her incredulously. At my lowest I was 237 pounds (down from 325 in college) and I'd hardly call that gaunt. Now at a jolly 245 I can't imagine those 8 pounds really make a difference. Clearly someone just caught me on a bad day.
So if you're ever in the Borders in Castleton take a visit to men's stall #2. If someone's in there just kick them out. Tell them you have important research to do. Now, as you walk in on the right you'll see some unpleasantness. Just ignore that. On the inside of the door you'll notice some Russian (well, something in Cyrillic anyway). Unless you know Russian ignore that too. Just to the left of the toilet paper holder you'll see a paragraph written in pen. I wish I'd had a camera to take a picture but basically the text goes something like this: "July 9th, 2007. From this day forward I solemnly pledge to get my life together. I'm going to go back and graduate from college. I'm going to give my girlfriend a reason to love me and be more responsible for my life. " I was honestly dumbfounded. This is a whole new level of bathroom graffiti that I'd really never expected to find. I wonder what ever happened with THAT anonymous wall scribbler?
Alright, on to less mundane bantering. I did pound out a few pages of Little Women tonight after the dust settled and one thing that really impresses me is the way she so readily references other literature. Every character is referred to a "Mrs. This" or a "Mr. That" from some novel of the time that her contemporary readers would have known. It seems that modern society is not nearly so well read though certainly if I said, "He was a real George Costanza" you'd know exactly what I'm saying. Perhaps it's all one in the same but it seems a shame that we've moved from being able to readily quote Shakespeare and Dickens at the drop of a hat to memorizing lines from "Full Metal Jacket."
Lastly, while on my circuitous trip to my usual bookstore haunts I heard a bit on NPR about... well, I heard a bit about a lot of things but one thing in particular caught my attention. Specifically, someone has done a rather obvious study that reading Shakespeare makes you more intelligent. Now, as much total bullshit as that statement is it's never a bad thing to put your mind through a few textual acrobatics and herpaps hiccup a new word or three. So I close tonight's post with a few words picked out from tonight's reading.
"After much study and careful thought Diane finally decided that Terrill's seeming complaisance was merely a diaphanous affectation of company loyalty and an attempt to curry favor in anticipation of his impending review. Now the only question that remained was how best to reap the tares while disturbing the rest of the department as little as possible."
Saturday, July 14, 2007
7/14/07b - Death by Cart; Death by Grill; Advice to Wives
Well, today was certainly an adventure. I'm still a bit giddy about it for some reason.
I went to Menards to purchase my 100 paving stones for landscaping bricks but found they only had 48. Looking about for a flat-bed conveyance I found none so with a sigh I resorted to a normal cart. Apparently my sense of proper load-balancing was in error as I got the loaded cart all of about 10 feet before the overburdened packmule dove forward, twirled 180 degrees and several feet down the aisle despite my efforts to control it spilled its hundreds of pounds of bricks all over the ground. I'm lucky to have not been injured in some way. I'm luckier still that someone else wasn't in the way to get injured themselves. Three more minutes of manly, affected aplomb and my better-balanced cart was on its way safely to the checkout.
Later, my wife's friends came over to share inane chatter and pick up a free Webber grill my in-laws are throwing away. I, of course, escaped to the in-laws during their visit where the smalltalk is of a much higher grade and on my way back brought the subject grill. The husband of the visiting couple espied me and so came out to help load the grill into his own car but about 5 minutes into the process the somewhat poorly cared for cooking device began a most comical disintegration as we attempted to lift it into the car. Clearly, you had to be there and more clearly, you get what you pay for.
On a less harried note, the bathroom tile stands a hairs breadth from utter completion, the $11 tree planned yesterday was installed and the remaining trees were staked to augment their suffering horizontality. Overall, quite a productive 24-hour period.
Penultimately, I offer a few random words I've come across today in my traipse through literature. For whatever reason, these little amalgamations of syllables didn't make any sense in their current context so I was forced to resort to a dictionary.
Oddly appropriate for me today we have the word pilgarlic from the m-w.com word of the day. Originating because of this item's similarity to a peeled clove of garlic a pilgarlic denotes a bald head or a man who has one.
Our delightful Little Women encountered some piquant French girls in today's reading. These damsels aren't hot to the taste as we usually use the term nowadays but instead unusually charming or provocative.
As you might guess, a marplot is one who meddles in the affairs of others and thus spoils their plans.
And lastly, a word that I will suggest to my wife when she goes back to school, obstreperous. Meaning one who engages in unruly noisiness this will go well with her annual introduction of the word logorrhea.
Finally, on a post that is already much to long I leave you with Alcott's advice to wives everywhere. While I'm sure that modern critics find this rather sexist I must admit from personal experience that this is achingly realistic. Anyway, those interested can read Little Women Chapter 38 for yourselves and judge...
I went to Menards to purchase my 100 paving stones for landscaping bricks but found they only had 48. Looking about for a flat-bed conveyance I found none so with a sigh I resorted to a normal cart. Apparently my sense of proper load-balancing was in error as I got the loaded cart all of about 10 feet before the overburdened packmule dove forward, twirled 180 degrees and several feet down the aisle despite my efforts to control it spilled its hundreds of pounds of bricks all over the ground. I'm lucky to have not been injured in some way. I'm luckier still that someone else wasn't in the way to get injured themselves. Three more minutes of manly, affected aplomb and my better-balanced cart was on its way safely to the checkout.
Later, my wife's friends came over to share inane chatter and pick up a free Webber grill my in-laws are throwing away. I, of course, escaped to the in-laws during their visit where the smalltalk is of a much higher grade and on my way back brought the subject grill. The husband of the visiting couple espied me and so came out to help load the grill into his own car but about 5 minutes into the process the somewhat poorly cared for cooking device began a most comical disintegration as we attempted to lift it into the car. Clearly, you had to be there and more clearly, you get what you pay for.
On a less harried note, the bathroom tile stands a hairs breadth from utter completion, the $11 tree planned yesterday was installed and the remaining trees were staked to augment their suffering horizontality. Overall, quite a productive 24-hour period.
Penultimately, I offer a few random words I've come across today in my traipse through literature. For whatever reason, these little amalgamations of syllables didn't make any sense in their current context so I was forced to resort to a dictionary.
Oddly appropriate for me today we have the word pilgarlic from the m-w.com word of the day. Originating because of this item's similarity to a peeled clove of garlic a pilgarlic denotes a bald head or a man who has one.
Our delightful Little Women encountered some piquant French girls in today's reading. These damsels aren't hot to the taste as we usually use the term nowadays but instead unusually charming or provocative.
As you might guess, a marplot is one who meddles in the affairs of others and thus spoils their plans.
And lastly, a word that I will suggest to my wife when she goes back to school, obstreperous. Meaning one who engages in unruly noisiness this will go well with her annual introduction of the word logorrhea.
Finally, on a post that is already much to long I leave you with Alcott's advice to wives everywhere. While I'm sure that modern critics find this rather sexist I must admit from personal experience that this is achingly realistic. Anyway, those interested can read Little Women Chapter 38 for yourselves and judge...
7/14/07 - Tale of the Tiles; crappy mail
Well, here I am in the deadspot of the day. The grout is down; the tiles are scrubbed and we await only the final scrubbing today in a few hours. The outdoor portion of my day has apparently been pushed into the afternoon as the wife and eldest have gone swimming and leave me here to tend our youngest and her headcold.
Now might be a good time to review the lesson learned while doing tile:
* The instructions on boxes of tile adhesive and grout are off by about 20%. Either they assume that the user cannot accurately measure liquids or they're trying to trick you into using more product but whichever the case if you follow the instructions on the package you'll have a heck of a time spreading the stuff. Both should have the consistency of creamy peanut butter. Wet sand is right out. 5 pounds of grout took 3 hours in the entry and looked like crap. 10 pounds of grout in the bathroom took about 30 minutes and is as smooth as a baby's forehead. All for the want of an extra 100mL of water. Bah and double bah humbug to you grout manufacturer.
Today our eldest when confronted with the writing prompt task produced a paragraph in about 4 minutes. This is a vast improvement on the 3 hours it took yesterday. A heavy sigh to the meaninglessly headstrong child.
I'm really disappointed in the mail lately. I've probably never mentioned that I'm really just a little kid. I just love gettin' crap in the mail. In fact, I typically keep something on order at all times so I can anticipate it's arrival. Back in the deep, dark, gloomy past this was mostly baseball cards. There's nothing quite as exciting to an old magpie like me than a big box of crap to go through. Anyway, as of late I've been meandering my way through my own amazon wishlist picking up all those missing 'A' titles on my too-be-read list (oh and the other list). Anyway, St. Thomas Aquinas is taking frigging forever. It further seems like everything has been taking a lot longer lately. If the pace doesn't pick up I'm going to have to break down and buy some sea monkeys or x-ray glasses.
Anyway, enough ranting, time to check in on the Little Women before the second shift starts...
Now might be a good time to review the lesson learned while doing tile:
* The instructions on boxes of tile adhesive and grout are off by about 20%. Either they assume that the user cannot accurately measure liquids or they're trying to trick you into using more product but whichever the case if you follow the instructions on the package you'll have a heck of a time spreading the stuff. Both should have the consistency of creamy peanut butter. Wet sand is right out. 5 pounds of grout took 3 hours in the entry and looked like crap. 10 pounds of grout in the bathroom took about 30 minutes and is as smooth as a baby's forehead. All for the want of an extra 100mL of water. Bah and double bah humbug to you grout manufacturer.
Today our eldest when confronted with the writing prompt task produced a paragraph in about 4 minutes. This is a vast improvement on the 3 hours it took yesterday. A heavy sigh to the meaninglessly headstrong child.
I'm really disappointed in the mail lately. I've probably never mentioned that I'm really just a little kid. I just love gettin' crap in the mail. In fact, I typically keep something on order at all times so I can anticipate it's arrival. Back in the deep, dark, gloomy past this was mostly baseball cards. There's nothing quite as exciting to an old magpie like me than a big box of crap to go through. Anyway, as of late I've been meandering my way through my own amazon wishlist picking up all those missing 'A' titles on my too-be-read list (oh and the other list). Anyway, St. Thomas Aquinas is taking frigging forever. It further seems like everything has been taking a lot longer lately. If the pace doesn't pick up I'm going to have to break down and buy some sea monkeys or x-ray glasses.
Anyway, enough ranting, time to check in on the Little Women before the second shift starts...
Friday, July 13, 2007
7/13/2007 - Incredible exploding child; random household updates
Today was marked by a stunning explosion in the household. Not of a chemical kind but purely emotional. Our eldest has demonstrated immense recalcitrance when asked to write to a writing prompt in school. Since she'll be taking the ISTEP this year and required to do so for the test the wife and I have been worried that she'll just refuse to complete the test and shout, "But I can't do it!" in front of the whole class. Her standard response is to claim utter ignorance. If she has any doubt whatsoever about what she's doing she just throws up her hands and sobs. I'm not sure what genetic trait we passed down or how we've erred in her upbringing but this is EXTREMELY irritating in the most irrational manner imaginable. The child fills notebooks with stories about imaginary beasts complete with illustrations but can't provide us with a complete sentence about what a farmer does at work all day? How in God's green earth do we fix THAT?
On a lighter note I managed to do some work today (at my real job) that I enjoyed. I spent most of the day writing Crystal reports and actually having real development to do (rather than hours and hours of virtual paper shuffling) and it was amazingly gratifying. It's refreshing to remember much better I feel after having done something meaningful for a few hours a day rather than the non-technical administrative garbage that comprises the majority of my job.
The tile in the hall bath is down and sealed and tomorrow... we grout. Er, rather, I grout. On a similar home improvement note, the 4-foot hole in the yard designed to accept the largish tree to be removed from the in-laws' yard when their in-ground pool goes in is ready. Apparently if you dig down far enough (in Indiana at least) you hit a horizon of decaying corn stalks. The smell of anaerobic decomposition in the hole had me concerned for a bit that I was approaching a sewer. Apparently it was just mountains of corn from years gone by... well, and maybe some farmers septic tile long disused. Tomorrow after the grout we buy another $11 tree, get about 200 landscaping bricks to properly ring off the trees we've planted in an arduous 600-step process and lastly, if I remember and if you're VERY unlucky, I'll take the garden archival snaps for July before it's no longer July.
On a lighter note I managed to do some work today (at my real job) that I enjoyed. I spent most of the day writing Crystal reports and actually having real development to do (rather than hours and hours of virtual paper shuffling) and it was amazingly gratifying. It's refreshing to remember much better I feel after having done something meaningful for a few hours a day rather than the non-technical administrative garbage that comprises the majority of my job.
The tile in the hall bath is down and sealed and tomorrow... we grout. Er, rather, I grout. On a similar home improvement note, the 4-foot hole in the yard designed to accept the largish tree to be removed from the in-laws' yard when their in-ground pool goes in is ready. Apparently if you dig down far enough (in Indiana at least) you hit a horizon of decaying corn stalks. The smell of anaerobic decomposition in the hole had me concerned for a bit that I was approaching a sewer. Apparently it was just mountains of corn from years gone by... well, and maybe some farmers septic tile long disused. Tomorrow after the grout we buy another $11 tree, get about 200 landscaping bricks to properly ring off the trees we've planted in an arduous 600-step process and lastly, if I remember and if you're VERY unlucky, I'll take the garden archival snaps for July before it's no longer July.
Thursday, July 12, 2007
7/12/07
Ahhhh.... another day another random post.
Today was strangely productive. At work our customer's go-live date approaches like a rabid dog approaches a terrified child. Therefore it seemed only natural to try to make some progress on their website. Not, of course, that everything else was ready but sadly beyond my ability to fix. At home the wife has finally tired of having only one serviceable bathroom and given me the deadly 'finish the stupid bathroom tile' look. Another 57 steps there and our numerous household guests will be ready to piddle in the comfort of their own special room again.
The literature grind continues as usual. I was not able to bring myself to plod through any more Henry Adams today but did finish the first half of Little Women which I shall refer to hereafter as 'the entertaining half.' Now that people are dieing and getting married, etc things are sure to go downhill.
These Rosetta Stone people (RosettaStone.com) almost have me. A decent coupon would pretty much assure that I would order their crazily overpriced language larnin' software. I'm not sure WHAT in the heck it is with the 'learn a new language for no reason whatsoever' bug but it seems to be a recurring theme in my life.
It occurs to me that someone should create a blog printing service. For some reasonable fee you could have your blog printed up in book format and sent to you. I'd pay a pretty tidy sum for a hardcover edition of my life to date with a special thumb index for all my absolute FAVORITE rants.
Today was strangely productive. At work our customer's go-live date approaches like a rabid dog approaches a terrified child. Therefore it seemed only natural to try to make some progress on their website. Not, of course, that everything else was ready but sadly beyond my ability to fix. At home the wife has finally tired of having only one serviceable bathroom and given me the deadly 'finish the stupid bathroom tile' look. Another 57 steps there and our numerous household guests will be ready to piddle in the comfort of their own special room again.
The literature grind continues as usual. I was not able to bring myself to plod through any more Henry Adams today but did finish the first half of Little Women which I shall refer to hereafter as 'the entertaining half.' Now that people are dieing and getting married, etc things are sure to go downhill.
These Rosetta Stone people (RosettaStone.com) almost have me. A decent coupon would pretty much assure that I would order their crazily overpriced language larnin' software. I'm not sure WHAT in the heck it is with the 'learn a new language for no reason whatsoever' bug but it seems to be a recurring theme in my life.
It occurs to me that someone should create a blog printing service. For some reasonable fee you could have your blog printed up in book format and sent to you. I'd pay a pretty tidy sum for a hardcover edition of my life to date with a special thumb index for all my absolute FAVORITE rants.
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
7/11/07b
OK, I just have to ask... who in the hell still carries around a flask?
http://aagro.blogspot.com/2007/07/flask-etiquette-for-dummies.html
http://aagro.blogspot.com/2007/07/flask-etiquette-for-dummies.html
7/11/07
Our neighbors to the east are just damned unfriendly. Now you must realize that I'm not particularly friendly either but I don't consider myself *UN*friendly. It took a full three greetings this evening to get even the merest acknowledgment from them. I did the neighborly wave. Nothing. I did the nod and smile. Nothing. I finally calmed it down to just a simple nod and got back half a nod. Heck, it could have been nothing more than an involuntary spasm. Point is, why are we so damn keen as a society to isolate ourselves. I'd very happily make acquaintances with the rather grim-looking people next door but my repeated attempts to approach them have resulted in nothing but sour milk.
I started another couple of holes today. One for the huge tree that is to come over from the in-laws yard when their pool goes in and a smaller for the happy $10 twigs I keep dragging home from the home improvement store. For some reason, there's nothing quite so satisfying as digging a hole. Sure there's the sweat and the grit; it's no easy task to dig a big hole but somehow the thought of pounding through layers of soil and clay that no human has touched in hundreds or thousands of years (if ever) has a certain romance. Not to mention the fact that a hole is one of those few things that you can create no a whim from nothing but is in fact completely immovable.
The new word to work into my vocabulary for the day is 'bijou.' Rob was amused today to learn that one of the people in his company was leaving to pursue a new job. The fact that is combined this person's primary interests in live made it a great bijou. In fact, I'm at least completely jealous but it made me try to determine what my 'bijou' job would be. Botanist? I'm not trained for such a thing. Landscaper? Doesn't pay enough. I don't know but it'd clearly have to be something that actually used both halves of my brain. I can pump out code all day but the creative part of my job takes about 30 seconds a day on average and the part that requires me to think only about 12. Clearly computer programming is the new 'blue collar' job of the 21st century. I think more when I'm laying tile in the bathroom than when I'm doing my real job. So perhaps that's the optimal job... the one that changes so much and so often that it requires constant adjustment and personal evolution. Much better than one that exercises only your patience over your intellect.
I've been thinking for some time that having everyone home for the summer (and therefore as good as in my office 24/7) is starting to drive me a bit nuts. Problem was that I couldn't quite put my finger on WHY this was the case. I have a separate office so I can work away from people when needed. It's a constant source of amusement that I can always find a child to pester on a moments notice. It's nice to have more organized lunches and with someone here to do the laundry I needn't worry about as many household chores. On the surface this should be really beneficial. Then it struck me what was missing. I need some level of solitude, a time during the day when I can walk down the hall and scream at the top of my lungs for no reason whatsoever. I need to be able to talk to myself for 40 minutes about how appallingly the Oxford Rugby team is doing this year despite the fact I know nothing of the topic. Working at home has inflicted such a level of utter solitude on me that I now find I NEED it. When my family is home they're constantly underfoot, utterly inescapable. If our toddler isn't our running around or threatening to run up the stairs then she's asleep and you have to watch every sound you make. It's quite maddening and I think my wife is ready to go back to school as well. She's falling under the spell of cabin fever as she looks for any excuse to go to the mall and see over human faces.
Hrm. Annual in-person company meeting about a month away. This is where the at-home worker begins to ask, "Keep the mohawk or let it start to grow out?"
I started another couple of holes today. One for the huge tree that is to come over from the in-laws yard when their pool goes in and a smaller for the happy $10 twigs I keep dragging home from the home improvement store. For some reason, there's nothing quite so satisfying as digging a hole. Sure there's the sweat and the grit; it's no easy task to dig a big hole but somehow the thought of pounding through layers of soil and clay that no human has touched in hundreds or thousands of years (if ever) has a certain romance. Not to mention the fact that a hole is one of those few things that you can create no a whim from nothing but is in fact completely immovable.
The new word to work into my vocabulary for the day is 'bijou.' Rob was amused today to learn that one of the people in his company was leaving to pursue a new job. The fact that is combined this person's primary interests in live made it a great bijou. In fact, I'm at least completely jealous but it made me try to determine what my 'bijou' job would be. Botanist? I'm not trained for such a thing. Landscaper? Doesn't pay enough. I don't know but it'd clearly have to be something that actually used both halves of my brain. I can pump out code all day but the creative part of my job takes about 30 seconds a day on average and the part that requires me to think only about 12. Clearly computer programming is the new 'blue collar' job of the 21st century. I think more when I'm laying tile in the bathroom than when I'm doing my real job. So perhaps that's the optimal job... the one that changes so much and so often that it requires constant adjustment and personal evolution. Much better than one that exercises only your patience over your intellect.
I've been thinking for some time that having everyone home for the summer (and therefore as good as in my office 24/7) is starting to drive me a bit nuts. Problem was that I couldn't quite put my finger on WHY this was the case. I have a separate office so I can work away from people when needed. It's a constant source of amusement that I can always find a child to pester on a moments notice. It's nice to have more organized lunches and with someone here to do the laundry I needn't worry about as many household chores. On the surface this should be really beneficial. Then it struck me what was missing. I need some level of solitude, a time during the day when I can walk down the hall and scream at the top of my lungs for no reason whatsoever. I need to be able to talk to myself for 40 minutes about how appallingly the Oxford Rugby team is doing this year despite the fact I know nothing of the topic. Working at home has inflicted such a level of utter solitude on me that I now find I NEED it. When my family is home they're constantly underfoot, utterly inescapable. If our toddler isn't our running around or threatening to run up the stairs then she's asleep and you have to watch every sound you make. It's quite maddening and I think my wife is ready to go back to school as well. She's falling under the spell of cabin fever as she looks for any excuse to go to the mall and see over human faces.
Hrm. Annual in-person company meeting about a month away. This is where the at-home worker begins to ask, "Keep the mohawk or let it start to grow out?"
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
7/10/07
Today, like most days was miraculously uneventful. Well, not exactly miraculously perhaps.
I discovered today to my surprise that one of my work colleagues has horticultural aspirations. Since this falls in line with my current urge to propagate things from my garden I told him I would provide the odd infant sprout or two.
In place of my lunch I put in the second $10 tree in the back yard only to have my wife refer to them as hopelessly small. Clearly she's not overly endowed with patience. For $10 I'll happily accept quite a bit of 'twigginess' in my trees thank you very much.
The entry tile finally approaches completion. It has been sealed and partially trimmed and, in my opinion at least, looks quite tidy. The wife says simply that it looks 'fake'. My offers to rip it all up and start over are still being rejected.
My real job has become even more ponderous than usual. I find my mind wandering throughout ever-growing days punctuated only by heavy sighs like the smoke that rises from a slowly burning human soul. I can't help but get the impression that my boss is himself steaming under the usually calm facade and is ready to boil over any minute. I'll brace myself for an explosion in my direction.
On a more positive note, Little Women continues to be a joy. I'm thinking of publishing a family newspaper as the March's do but I'm uncertain the wife would participate.
Further on the topic of wives, I seem to be getting along with mine astonishingly well lately. I can't say why exactly but it seems indisputably to be the truth. I can imagine several factors that might contribute to this. Is she comparing me to her New York friend's husband in some favorable way? Is she finally just adjusting to being home for the summer? Perhaps her high school friends stories about her deadbeat ex-husband are finding their mark? Or is it is just that she's happy to be seeing her plans for the house come together? Hard to say but I've surely analyzed it enough now that any excessive connubial joy has been completely jinxed into oblivion.
I discovered today to my surprise that one of my work colleagues has horticultural aspirations. Since this falls in line with my current urge to propagate things from my garden I told him I would provide the odd infant sprout or two.
In place of my lunch I put in the second $10 tree in the back yard only to have my wife refer to them as hopelessly small. Clearly she's not overly endowed with patience. For $10 I'll happily accept quite a bit of 'twigginess' in my trees thank you very much.
The entry tile finally approaches completion. It has been sealed and partially trimmed and, in my opinion at least, looks quite tidy. The wife says simply that it looks 'fake'. My offers to rip it all up and start over are still being rejected.
My real job has become even more ponderous than usual. I find my mind wandering throughout ever-growing days punctuated only by heavy sighs like the smoke that rises from a slowly burning human soul. I can't help but get the impression that my boss is himself steaming under the usually calm facade and is ready to boil over any minute. I'll brace myself for an explosion in my direction.
On a more positive note, Little Women continues to be a joy. I'm thinking of publishing a family newspaper as the March's do but I'm uncertain the wife would participate.
Further on the topic of wives, I seem to be getting along with mine astonishingly well lately. I can't say why exactly but it seems indisputably to be the truth. I can imagine several factors that might contribute to this. Is she comparing me to her New York friend's husband in some favorable way? Is she finally just adjusting to being home for the summer? Perhaps her high school friends stories about her deadbeat ex-husband are finding their mark? Or is it is just that she's happy to be seeing her plans for the house come together? Hard to say but I've surely analyzed it enough now that any excessive connubial joy has been completely jinxed into oblivion.
Monday, July 09, 2007
7/9/2007
After months of neglect, it occurs to me that it may be beneficial to just randomly write some crap. Though I'll admit that it may be meaningless to any reader but the writer himself that matters little.
I was reminded today of the funniest thing I've ever said. Well, the funniest thing I'm currently aware of having said. Sadly, out of its proper context it's not really funny at all. "That elephant is stealing those cigarettes!" See. Completely not funny.
Today my brother-in-law after long neglecting his health has been admitted to the hospital. It remains to be seen where this long story will lead.
I'm currently on a plod-and-enjoy reading schedule. My plod is "The Education of Henry Adams". The assumed audience for this little tome knows a hell of a lot more about 19th century history than I do so it makes for a lot of question marks in my mind. At 10 pages a day, I can almost stay awake. The enjoy is a re-read of 'Little Women'. I'm trying to defeat the 'A's on my list so Alcott has come up again since it's been 6 years since I read this last. I have to say this is a devilishly enjoyable book despite the fact that I'm the wrong gender to fully appreciate it. Or, perhaps it's enjoyable simply as a counterpoint to the other things I've been reading lately. At any rate, I think I'll have to work the phrase "She's a real Mrs. March" into my speech patterns. Not, of course, that anybody will know what the hell I mean.
In the interest of expanding my horizons a bit I've subscribed to a few Magazines. For a weekly I subscribed to 'The New Yorker'. It's content seems promising and the amazon.com review that said, "If you want to be a snob, this magazine is a must-have" made this a sure thing. If anyone's a snob it's me. For a monthly I went with 'Harpers' and for a Quarterly 'The Strand'. On a similar streak I picked up a copy of 'The American Scholar' at Borders for investigative purposes. I'll admit that it covers a crazily eclectic range of topics but in at least a couple articles it makes my Bullshit Meter buzz crazily. Sadly it's hard to know how seriously to take these people.
Oh, before I forget to mention it at all, we forgave the Mike's Car Wash people. Long story short, my wife went through the car wash and heard a horrendous POP. Turns out, the blowers had dented the roof of the car. After much hassle Mike's agreed to pay for the repairs but when we got the estimates it amounted to over $1000 to replace the roof and windshield for a barely discernible dent. That seemed an extravagant amount to fix a barely discernible dent so we told Mike's to forget the whole thing and instead just give us a written guarantee that they'd follow through with their original offer to pay the $1000 if we went through again and something really awful happened. Needless to say, they were shocked into bewilderment but agreed to pay nothing and provide the paperwork. Anyway, one hopes that turns our karma wheel in a favorable direction.
Finally, with any luck the slate in the entryway should be done. I'll take a picture tomorrow for fun. Also need to take my garden photos for July.
I was reminded today of the funniest thing I've ever said. Well, the funniest thing I'm currently aware of having said. Sadly, out of its proper context it's not really funny at all. "That elephant is stealing those cigarettes!" See. Completely not funny.
Today my brother-in-law after long neglecting his health has been admitted to the hospital. It remains to be seen where this long story will lead.
I'm currently on a plod-and-enjoy reading schedule. My plod is "The Education of Henry Adams". The assumed audience for this little tome knows a hell of a lot more about 19th century history than I do so it makes for a lot of question marks in my mind. At 10 pages a day, I can almost stay awake. The enjoy is a re-read of 'Little Women'. I'm trying to defeat the 'A's on my list so Alcott has come up again since it's been 6 years since I read this last. I have to say this is a devilishly enjoyable book despite the fact that I'm the wrong gender to fully appreciate it. Or, perhaps it's enjoyable simply as a counterpoint to the other things I've been reading lately. At any rate, I think I'll have to work the phrase "She's a real Mrs. March" into my speech patterns. Not, of course, that anybody will know what the hell I mean.
In the interest of expanding my horizons a bit I've subscribed to a few Magazines. For a weekly I subscribed to 'The New Yorker'. It's content seems promising and the amazon.com review that said, "If you want to be a snob, this magazine is a must-have" made this a sure thing. If anyone's a snob it's me. For a monthly I went with 'Harpers' and for a Quarterly 'The Strand'. On a similar streak I picked up a copy of 'The American Scholar' at Borders for investigative purposes. I'll admit that it covers a crazily eclectic range of topics but in at least a couple articles it makes my Bullshit Meter buzz crazily. Sadly it's hard to know how seriously to take these people.
Oh, before I forget to mention it at all, we forgave the Mike's Car Wash people. Long story short, my wife went through the car wash and heard a horrendous POP. Turns out, the blowers had dented the roof of the car. After much hassle Mike's agreed to pay for the repairs but when we got the estimates it amounted to over $1000 to replace the roof and windshield for a barely discernible dent. That seemed an extravagant amount to fix a barely discernible dent so we told Mike's to forget the whole thing and instead just give us a written guarantee that they'd follow through with their original offer to pay the $1000 if we went through again and something really awful happened. Needless to say, they were shocked into bewilderment but agreed to pay nothing and provide the paperwork. Anyway, one hopes that turns our karma wheel in a favorable direction.
Finally, with any luck the slate in the entryway should be done. I'll take a picture tomorrow for fun. Also need to take my garden photos for July.
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