I just committed the most evil act. Therefore, like many criminals, I must now confess to the internet.

Our office really isn’t for the “general public.” So we have a “no soliciting” sign on the door and we keep [...]]]> [NOTE: This was two days ago. I think James came to pick me up for lunch or something.]

I just committed the most evil act. Therefore, like many criminals, I must now confess to the internet.

Our office really isn’t for the “general public.” So we have a “no soliciting” sign on the door and we keep it locked. Sadly, I am stuck out in front of the door like the stupid receptionist, er, ahem, excellent administrative assistant that I am. What happens? People are always trying to open the door, or knocking on it, trying to get in. They *know* they’re in the wrong place. They want directions. Because, you know, I don’t have any work to do, and of course I know every business that’s located up and down either side of HWY 183. Right?

There are several other businesses in this mall. One is a huge ophthalmology office. Directly across from me is a chiropractic office with cute little plants and crap all around the door. Next door to me is a technical surveying (I think) business which also has a poor sap stuck next to the window while he does his work. Do people knock on those doors? Of course not. I am so lucky.

Well, today. Hmm, today, no one is in the office and I was spending some quality “me” time looking at iPhone cases I probably won’t buy. I was busy, dammit! In any case, a car pulled up and an Asian couple got out. The man was on crutches. They begin arguing loudly in what I assume is their native language. It sounded like a dialect of Chinese, but what do I know about Asian languages? Very little.

I didn’t want to answer the door and deal with them, so I stared hard at the computer screen and picked up the office phone and pretended to be talking on it. That’s right, kids, you heard it here first. The Asian couple would have to actually knock on the door to get my attention. I held my breath and stared at the monitor like the secrets of the universe were contained within. I talked to an imaginary person on the phone about how much I wished the couple would go away. I hoped they wouldn’t knock, please, God, don’t let them knock! And they didn’t! They got back in their car and went away, arguing very loudly the entire time! Huzzah!

But what’s this? Now I am overcome with guilt. Not “and remorse” but guilt just the same… And so I purge myself, here in digital la-la land. Cheers, kids. I hope you won’t see me in “doesn’t give lost Asian couples with leg injuries directions” hell.

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It annoys the piss out of me when people use the question “seriously?” to not-so-subtly criticize other people. No, really. I wish it weren’t becoming so popular: because of the way certain people hardwire when it comes to verbal development, we will be stuck with a whole [...]]]> I just have to get this off my chest.

It annoys the piss out of me when people use the question “seriously?” to not-so-subtly criticize other people. No, really. I wish it weren’t becoming so popular: because of the way certain people hardwire when it comes to verbal development, we will be stuck with a whole generation who will continue to speak this way even after the trend dies. (I hope it dies soon.)

The internet and overheard conversations are full of questions these days:

“You’re going to wear that? Seriously?”

“Seriously? You’re thinking of going to law school?”

“Did you seriously just call the bathroom the ‘sandbox’? Seriously?”

But they aren’t really questions. I suppose the idea is to imply that the speaker, instead of being a critical bitch or bastard, is genuinely interested in the other person’s well-being. Not surprisingly, the word is actually being used to question the other person’s competence, judgement, life choices, or taste.  “You like those colors for your living room? Seriously?” I find this usage so distasteful that my stomach begins to turn even when the word is relatively benign: “After examining the way Americans prioritized their expenses in the past, we must seriously examine our motivation for spending in the future.” ARGH! Wait — what?

Perhaps it stems from the fact that most people kind of run their mouths without thinking. Probably because we’re all a little guilty of saying things we haven’t thought out properly, instead of telling someone we question their intelligence we want to pretend like we think they’re joking. “You think white gay men enjoy a certain amount of male privilege? Seriously?” “Seriously? You really want to start a charity to buy ski equipment for orphans in Darfur?” “You think people care about your preferences for verbal usage in American English? Seriously?”

I have another idea about how we can respond when those around us do or say something we find questionable, though. Here it is in all its glory: Unless the situation concerns us directly, WE SHOULD SHUT THE FUCK UP. Yeah that’s right, the old “If you don’t have anything nice to say” bit. Holy shit, there’s an idea! Instead of turning up our lips in that junior high white girl sneer, and asking “Seriously?” when someone tells us that they really like pale pink crocheted doilies, we should just smile and clam up. After all, if populating her house with pale pink crocheted doilies fulfills your friend and you truly want her to be happy, your criticism isn’t going to help.

Seriously.

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I admit, that when the whole thing began, I was a little nervous. I would be fine during the day but then I would go home and see the news, and people were totally wigging out. Last week, [...]]]> I have four words for the masses regarding the swine flu, and they are: “Give me a break!”

I admit, that when the whole thing began, I was a little nervous. I would be fine during the day but then I would go home and see the news, and people were totally wigging out. Last week, many drugstores here  sold out of their supplies of anti-virals. That means that doctors here were prescribing them for people who weren’t sick and might not even become sick.

A few schools have been closed here, to the point that my students haven’t been coming to class, even though it’s adult education and we just use the building of a school that has not been closed.

Sure, I got a little creeped out when I saw the reports about how fast the virus was spreading, but I managed to get over it. More and more the evidence is that if you take reasonable precautions (wash your hands! don’t touch your face!) you will probably be fine. My issue is that otherwise reasonable people are jumping on this bandwagon.

Otherwise intelligent people are citing that the virus has appeared in and even killed people who are not poor, not very old, and not very young. This is true, but these particular fatalities are not in the U.S. And a virus can appear in anyone. It’s just less likely to kill you if you are a younger healthy adult. There are so many factors in whether or not something like this virus is going to kill you.

I had one person ask me if I had been to Mexico city, telling me that he had and that it was a big modern city, as if that somehow proved that Mexico has medical care on a par with the U.S. It may be that there are good medical services available there, but think about it: in the U.S. we have some of the best medical facilities in the world, but only a small percentage of people can actually get the best in health care. How do you think it is in Mexico? My students from Mexico City (and elsewhere in the country) have told me several times that living in Mexico is not the same as here. Most of the population struggles for daily life.  Think about what this means for living conditions, nutrition, and a person’s overall health over his or her lifetime. Even the poor in the U.S. tend to have a better quality of life than many people in Mexico.

Now you all know me, and know I’m not the type to go around ranting that “America rules!” all the time. But the fact remains that conditions in Mexico and other countries are not the same as conditions here. How a person’s body responds to things like medication, infections, and other stimuli depends on many factors. Surely lifestyle plays a part in these factors. I mean, someone could just be reluctant to seek medical attention until it is too late! For example,  Jim Henson died of a curable illness because he wouldn’t got to the doctor! How can people not think about this stuff before they just go around believing everything they read or see on TV?!

So wash yer freakin’ hands frequently, take care of yourself and take yer vitamins, don’t wait until you are in respiratory distress before you go to the doctor, and you should be fine. Geez.

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Austin home to a few good brewpubs

I read the article, and went to reply on the list, [...]]]> I got an email on the Austin Zealots‘ Yahoo group today. (The Zealots are a local hombrewing club here in Austin, and a great bunch of people.) A member was expressing his disappointment with the contents of this article:

Austin home to a few good brewpubs

I read the article, and went to reply on the list, but as usual I waxed verbose and was forced to move my opinions to a forum in which I (mostly) reign supreme. I did this to avoid spamming the list with my copious rants and opinions. I’m sure people everywhere are grateful I have my own website.

In short, I share the disappointment of my fellow Zealot. Allow me to elaborate.

The main problem with this article is that the author failed to establish her authority as being someone who has any business reviewing brewpubs. She failed to properly do so in the beginning of the article, and as I read the rest of it, I became more convinced that this person merely received free meals and/or beer from the establishments she reviewed. I addressed this issue once before when I lived in the benighted town of Monroe, LA, actually. How am I supposed to take the contents of a review seriously if I don’t think the reviewer has the necessary experience to offer an informed and comprehensive review?

This kind of thing stems from letting “food” writers also write about beer, wine or other potables. We shouldn’t allow it! HAH! But seriously, why should we listen to this author’s opinion of precious beer when she pretty much makes it clear that she doesn’t really know anything about beer or even what constitutes an establishment’s being called a “brewpub.”

I think this author just a freelancer who also teaches at TSU. Now, I suppose it’s true that if we only allowed established beer writers to write about beer-related issues that maybe someone like, oh, I dunno, ME, would never be able to “break in” and start writing about beer. Or food, for that matter. But this particular article kind of gives Austin a bad name.

I mean, wouldn’t your average Austinite know that one of those venues isn’t even a “brewpub”? A brewery tour and tasting is not, I repeat, not a brewpub. Even I knew that and I know very little about the Austin beer scene, as it were. Seriously, if you go to a tour and tasting expecting a brewpub, of course you will be disappointed!

I was also a little disappointed because I would like to see a brewpub review that gives me comprehensive information on the beer, food, and atmosphere of several brewpubs. Telling me “the food came out suspiciously fast,” or that a Hefeweizen is “strong and banana-y” doesn’t give me any sort of idea what I might be getting into, except that you probably ordered something frozen and/or fried, and you don’t know how to describe your beer when you taste it. Tell me, something guys, what do you think a “strong” beer flavor means? A quick Google led me to a neat list of terms for beer taste. Maybe one of these terms could serve me if I were, oh I dunno, writing an article where I had to describe beer flavor.

In any case, there were only three venues in the article, one of which was a national chain and one which wasn’t even a brewpub. So Austin is really home to one local brewpub, one national chain eatery which serves beer, and one brewery that gives tours on the first Saturday of each month?  This doesn’t really help me figure out where to spend my hard-earned and meager supply of cash, does it? Believe it or not, there are more brewpubs than those in Austin. I promise.

I know, I know, I’m on my blog again, criticzing other people’s writing. But it’s my blog, and I’m a very critical person. Also, I really do believe that it’s important to establish one’s credibility in one’s writing. As usual, the writing venue and audience will dictate to what degree one needs to establish credibility. In reviews of products, restaurants, movies, books, and yes, brewpubs, the author should really take the time to say “I’m an authority on this subject,” or “I’m not an authority on this subject, but I know what I like,” so that the audience can get a handle on where everyone stands before diving in.  And, really, try your best to get your terminology right. Calling a Jazz festival a “concert hall” or a tour and tasting a “brewpub,” doesn’t make it true.

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Whatever you do, however, if you get the job, please, please PLEASE make sure that the “read more” style jumps actually work. Also, although shinyshiny.tv used [...]]]> And you are already a famous blogger as well as a tech savvy individual, you might want to head over to Shiny Media’s Tech Digest and apply for a job.

Whatever you do, however, if you get the job, please, please PLEASE make sure that the “read more” style jumps actually work. Also, although shinyshiny.tv used to be one of my favorite daily rambles, on each page of multiple entries I am now finding both broken jumps and numerous pronoun agreement errors.

I know, I know. “Picky, picky, snarky whiner!” I can hear you all screaming it. No, really. Get off my lawn. But seriously, I understand the world of constant bloggers even if I am not one myself. The occasional typo that spell check doesn’t catch, a grammar mistake here and there . . . so what? It’s not the end of the world.

Still, I’ll let all five of you, my faithful readers, in on a little secret: I’ve recently applied for a few freelance writing and blogging jobs, and if I get one, I could be actually paid to write. If you think that I will be paid to write something and submit articles containing pronoun agreement errors, you are sorely mistaken. Everyone who is being paid to do a job should do so to the best of her (not their, dammit!) ability. If the writer herself misses an error, then the copy editor should catch it. Both people are being paid to do their jobs, and those jobs include writing for clarity and communication as well as for wit and information. Pronoun agreement errors, among others, disrupt the clarity of the sentences and therefore make the sentence less effective. So errors pretty much ensure that the product the writer is being paid to produce is inferior.

Yeah, I’m a big fat mean bitch. But it’s my blog and my opinion, and no one has to read it. I am just hacked off because I used to be able to read Shiny Shiny and not find two articles in a row with errors in them. Now I find errors fairly often, and it bugs me that even if I lived in the area I couldn’t get such a job.

Yes, I admit jealously plays a part in all snarking. But think about it for a moment: I have experience with Movable Type, Photoshop, and CSS. I have communications experience and a Master’s Degree, and have been writing at a professional level for years. (Not on this blog, obviously, but you get the idea.) However, no one cares about that stuff. People only care if you’ve worked for an online publication before, not if you can make your damn subjects and verbs agree in a simple sentence. And trust me, knowledge of basic grammar rules is not a qualification for journalism majors, according to my experience when I tried to get them to write essays. Go ahead. Call my bluff. Get a newspaper and mark up all the errors. Your paper will be ” black and white and red all over.”

Hah. I actually wrote that. I should go to the lame pun corner and put my nose in it. In any case, I feel better for my rant. I hope I do get one of my piddly local writing jobs. At least then I can put my money where my mouth is and stand up for proper grammar in the media. In fact, maybe I should do penance for my rant by going back and editing all of my previous entries here for grammar, typos, and effectiveness.  Yeah, Maybe tomorrow.

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Them: So you’re finally going to [...]]]> With graduation looming, er, I mean nearly dawning in my horizon, I’ve been noticing a few reactions that I’ve been getting when some of my friends hear that I plan to continue my education into the doctorate level. The conversation usually goes something like this:

Them: So you’re finally going to get that Masters’ Degree, huh?

Me (somewhat ironically): Um, yeah, it took me a year and half.

Them: Wow that’s forever! So what’re you gonna do with your degree? you’ve been in school forever.

Me (gritting my teeth because I know what’s coming): Well, since I went back to get my B.A. in 2003, I’ve planned on getting my doctorate and becoming a professor of literature. I will enter a program in Fall of 2009.

Them (laughing like they’re in on a joke): Heh heh, so you’re gonna just keep going to school so you don’t have to get a real job, huh? Heh heh heh.

To my credit, I don’t give out these people’s addresses and cell numbers to my numerous very computer savvy *wink wink* acquaintances. I don’t even scream at them or attempt to push them under a bus the next time I see them.

Most of my good friends know what blood, sweat, and tears (and beers) are involved in getting any sort of degree beyond the Bachelor’s. Some do not. This second group tends to assume that graduate courses and coursework are similar to one’s coursework as a senior in the undergrad degree. This error is not only grievous, I would go so far as to say it is egregious. Egregious, I tell you!

Also, apparently, a Senior-level or Graduate professorship is not a “real job” to aspire to. Professors of any kind do not deal with “office politics,” too much red tape, unsympathetic bosses or supervisors, irritating co-workers, or deadlines. Apparently, being a professor at a university merely involves wearing drab, natural fiber clothing and attending cocktail parties or something.

I guess I’ll go and watch tv or sit on a deck chair or something and let my thesis finish itself, and let my article for my tech writing class edit itself and add research to itself. The research is currently doing itself while I am writing this blog entry. Tomorrow, my final chapter will drive itself to Ruston in the morning while I have a lie-in and then dine on a huge delicious brunch of waffles and bacon. I will read a mystery novel while my Tech Writing textbook reads itself and answers the questions on Blackboard, and takes a quiz on its own material. By that time I will be ready for my daily 3 hour nap.

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It all started May 22. [...]]]> Yep, that’s right. I’m going to be reduced to one of those people who starts fights on the internet. No, I’m not a forum troll, although I have annoyed quite a few people in my intermittent forum rovings: I may have to fight over 30 bucks with an online merchant.

It all started May 22. I ordered some Noro Kureyon color #88. This, by the way, is Japanese yarn. I like it so much because I already had a couple of skeins and I knitted some arm warmers and a hat with them – I’ll have to post pics when James brings the camera back. Color 88 is my absolute favorite color they make, so of course they’re discontinuing it. When the package didn’t arrive, I called because I thought maybe I hadn’t typed in the right address or something on my order form. Okay, I waited till last week to call.

The lady who answered my call said she thought she had already emailed me. They were out of that color. In fact, they were out of every color except one. An icky blue one. I don’t like blue too much: I’m an autumn. So I said don’t worry about it, just cancel the order and give me a refund. She did, and I instantly got an email from her online checkout processing software saying I had gotten the refund. We hung up the phone and I thought everything would be fine.

I was wrong. A few hours later I checked my PayPal account to see if the refund had been processed. So I fired off an email and informed the lady, who said she’d get right on it in the morning. The next day, I didn’t hear from her most of the day, so I sent another email. Kind of late I received a reply that the issue would definitely be resolved and that I might not hear from her until late the next day but again, that the issue would be resolved and I would get an email. That was on June 6.

The stupid part about this is that because their store software says that it refunded me, they probably don’t realize that their PayPal account has not refunded me. I tried sending email to this effect on June 8th but got no reply. I emailed her today and said if I don’t hear from her by end of business tomorrow I am opening a dispute with PayPal. I reiterated that I would prefer to resolve this by ourselves, and I was as nice as I could possibly be about it. I don’t understand why she doesn’t just log in to her PayPal account, look to see if the refund has been made of a a payment on May 22 from my address, and refund it. I hope I’m not overreacting if I file a dispute if I don’t hear from her tomorrow, but I haven’t heard from her in 5 days! For all I know she thinks I’m just going to walk away and forget about my 30 bucks because she’s not talking to me.

Fat chance! I need my 30 bucks. So I’m an evil annoying online shopper. It’s come to this…

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****I am a big fat meanie in this post. You have been warned. If you don’t like it you [...]]]> I would love to make my first post in a very long time one of clever insight, great content, and pithy sayings. Instead I will whine about how other people whine on their blogs.

****I am a big fat meanie in this post. You have been warned. If you don’t like it you can’t say I didn’t warn you. It’s my blog, and why should I be the only person who doesn’t post self-indulgent, meaningless, uninteresting crap on her blog?****

This post makes me a big fat hypocrite, because I whine on my blog all the time when I can be bothered to write in it. I actually have interesting things to write about in my blog instead of whining, because I have been out living my life. Unfortunately, I have no time to write about the interesting stuff, because I have been out living my life. Now that I have free time for a few minutes, I will spend time whining about myself as a whiner, and other people as whiners. I’m such a whiner.

I did have time to do slacking Google searches, however, and came across a blog about someone who had infertility problems, got IVF even though she couldn’t really afford it, and was busily complaining about how badly everything was going. The whole infertility thing is a hot subject, and I’m reluctant to comment on how I specifically feel about it — even though I’m already an asshole here, because I don’t feel sorry for a person who couldn’t have kids, and so made herself very sick and poor so she could have one, then was unhappy about it. Still what struck me is that the woman wanted to know how much she had to “prostrate herself to the universe” (I think those were the words) in order to “deserve” to be a mom.

Well, it sounds like she got what she wants, but now she “don’t want what she gots.” Something I learned in my mid-20′s or thereabouts: Life is not about what you deserve. People never get what they deserve. Really nice people get shit on all the time, and supreme bottomfeeding pursesnatching assholes get Mazeratis and six figure incomes. It’s not about “deserve”, it’s about your response to the hand you’re dealt in the cosmic card game of the universe.

The Ancient Greeks had this concept of fate, which was really “whatever the gods want to do with you.” The gods put you on sort of a “fate wave,” which left untampered with, would deal out to you over your lifetime a certain amount of happiness and a certain amount of suffering. It was only when you tried to mess with it, i.e. take more than your fair share of happiness, that you increased your suffering. We are dealt whatever life we are dealt. This doesn’t mean we should not use our talents and abilities to try and live the life we desire, but sometimes we need the self-knowledge to realize when something we want is our fair portion – that is, our lot in life – and when we need to adjust our response to the hand we’ve been dealt.

Or in other words, if you have a phenomenal verbal SAT score but your math score is low to average, don’t go to college with the intention of becoming a Mathematics PhD with a specialty in differential equations. According to the Greeks, you will only bring suffering upon yourself.

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I do have a Typekey account, which I use to comment on other people’s blogs.  Lately, I must say that I haven’t had to use it very often.  Still, it annoys me to have to do so.

Why?  Because Typekey [...]]]> Typekey sucks.  So yes, I’m about 3 years too late with that sentiment, but I was annoyed.

I do have a Typekey account, which I use to comment on other people’s blogs.  Lately, I must say that I haven’t had to use it very often.  Still, it annoys me to have to do so.

Why?  Because Typekey seems to be kaput.  When you click on a person’s nick who has commented via Typekey, you don’t get to see their profile or their website.  It just takes you to a page which promptly redirects you to a page that doesn’t load.

Look, if people comment on my blog, I like to be able to see if they have a website, too.  I also like for people to be able to go to my website if they read a comment on someone else’s site that fools them into thinking that makes them think I might provide an interesting read.  It’s what’s behind all this “virtual community” the sociologists and psychologists are rambling about these days.

I know I tend to be a bit self-serving, but I really feel like this problem is more than just an “I visit your site and contribute, so you should visit mine” thing.  Hah!  I have to admit to being a bit of a “maiden aunt” of the internet, though.  I believe in being “polite” in that way, and I freely admit to removing people from my links list because they were soliciting my participation in their site while not even bothering to put up a reciprocal link to mine.  I also believe, though, that one should at least visit someone’s website who comments on yours, if they have one, for the simple reasonn that if you really want to participate in and/or build an online community, then you need to try and connect in a meaningful way with some of your contributors.

I mean, sure, the copious commenters who have obviously been at the Wiki and have to post a twelve stanza poem every freaking time have perhaps betrayed too much of their natures already, but what about the person who only comments when he or she has something to say that is both relevant and intelligent?  Of course, here in my own little corner of the web my commenters are known to me and the comments are invariably of the latter sort.  Still, I have to say even the tumbleweed commenters have also been intelligent and relevant, and yes, I have visited your sites and probably will again even if I haven’t commented. Often I have nothing to add.

I guess I just wish people cared more.  These days, people just read all their stuff via RSS feed aggregators,and no one even reads comments.  Wil Wheaton says here that he cares, but admits that he himself reads all his stuff via aggregators.  Incidentally, he has also added some advertising to the ol’ blog, and perhaps this is why he’s so interested in getting traffic to his actual site rather than just being read through syndication? Now never fear, people, I refuse to commit geek blasphemy – I still love Wil.  In 7th grade I gave up watching Doogie Howser M.D. so I could watch Wesley instead!  At any rate, I seriously doubt Wil will ever hear of my criticism.  If he did, I assume he would leave an intelligent and relevant comment here, ’cause that’s just how he rolls.

Wil will never visit my weblog, though, because he uses the Typekey commenting system and is blissfully unaware of my web presence.  (Of course, never mind that he is a professional writer, actor, and charity poker player, with a fabulous family and house in California and probably doesn’t have time for such things.)

Did you notice we’re back around to Typekey again?  And you thought the ferret was taking you on yet another of her post-midnight pointless rambles! Shame on you!

Tune in tomorrow for my post on the Fujitsu Lifebook p1120: it lives! It, my Clie T1615C and my Nintendo DS are all gonna get together for a Sexy Party!  Okay, maybe not that last bit.

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