1.5 hours later...

I figured out a workaround for my Yahoo! avatar (to the right, there) image. I think that sometimes programmers, in a well-intentioned effort to help the less-savvy consumer (or blogger, in this case) have a more streamlined experience in techno-communication. Thus, the new blogger templates with "widgets." Call me old-fashioned, and nerdy, but I found the classic HTML templates much easier to use, since I could actually see the code I needed to fix or change. I wasn't great at it, but at least I could figure out the location of the issue.

This question, of course, brings me to an issue in the personal computer war that I have spent much time considering: Macs vs. PCs for people-friendly interfaces. Here's the thing: PCs represent (or used to, anyway) a sort of technology designed around the geeks of the world: those users that were versed in regedit and dos (do you remember Tandy's first "desktop" program?! So. Cool. I spent hours playing with those settings.../sigh. The old days) or at least those users adventurous enough to just dive in and figure it out. Macs, on the other hand, were specialized, right from the beginning. I remember when "Apples for Education" was all the rage and the cute rainbow symbol was a marketing tool for less expensive, less powerful, less geek-cool Apple computer. Now, that same Apple logo is translucent, or white, a representation of the graphic friendly, architecturally clean Mac.

The PC is powerful, cheap(er), ubiquitous, and generally easier to "figure out" for even mildly competent users. For instance, if I want to make sure that a program has been completely cleaned from my system, I can easily access the registry and search for log files to delete, etc.

The Mac, also powerful, costs a whole lot more, and I have yet to figure out how to fix my darn machine if anything goes wrong. Interestingly, however, I've had my laptop since 2003, and it has NEVER crashed. Ever. Not a blip. I have had problems, however, on a more hardware level. First, the ultra-cool battery adapter that came with the system had an overly thin cord that wore through in less than a year, since I had to wrap it to keep it in my laptop case. On the Apple website, a new one cost nearly $100. On Mac Mall, I got an off-brand for under $40. It's still working. Second, my screen is doing this weird thing, as if the inner wires are not connecting properly unless I set it exactly perfectly. Thank goodness for PeachMac.

But it's so pretty... and I will insist that the Expose feature, along with amazing overall stability and incredible graphic/video capability (and the pretty), make the Mac a special kind of machine. I just hate that I can't fix it myself if I wanted to.

It's kind of like owning a Volkswagen. Oh, wait...



I guess I'm a sucker for pretty.

Have a Happy New Year's Eve!

Go here.

My little bro is in Hyderabad, India. Go read his ultra-cool blog about his trip!

Good morning!

You might be a cat owner if you laugh at this:




I laughed until I cried, but only because of the similar agony that Galaxy and Xander subject me to every morning.

Putting the "super" back in "supersonic"

I'm back! I'm trying to eat right, exercise, the works. After talking to the now-famous Mel (the Yarn Harlot blogs about her!!) I have decided that part of the plan for fitness must also include accountability. So...I'm going public. I have a link on the left, under "kicking" for my diet/fitness info that I will update daily.

Funny thing - when the world will have a record of one's eating habits, it's really tough to grab that handful of peanut-butter M&Ms and chow down.

If you're curious, check it out. Otherwise, keep moving. Nothing more to see here.

Happy Wednesday!

Always in style...

You Are

A Classic Pumpkin Face You would make a good pumpkin pie.

What's Your Pumpkin Face?

The wait is over.

I've dreamed of fame for most of my life. I've never really yearned for the "fortune" half of that colloquialism; I've just always wanted my name in lights.

And here it is.

I guess I really am a force of nature. (bah-dum-dum-crash!).

By the way, for those of you just joining us for "Heroes," Mel sent me this link to the corresponding online, interactive graphic novel. I've only flipped through the first chapter, but it has already impressed me, in terms of both the artistic content and the storyline.

On that note, I'd like to relate a brief conversation that B and I had about the quality of writing on television these days. Although we bemoan the dearth of good programming with the advent of the "reality TV" shows - and, yes, even Project Runway has its critics - Bryan proposed that the subsequent excess of writers-without-jobs actually creates higher-quality writing for the remaining shows. Sort of an Adam Smithsian effect in Hollywood: low demand, high supply means that producers have their pick of the litter.

I suppose that means that all of the fans of "Lost," "Battlestar Galactica," "Heroes," "House," and pretty much all of the HBO serial programming should give a great big (albeit tongue-in-cheek) HOLLA! to "Flip This House!" and "The Bachelorette 17 (or whatever)." We, of the intelligent, articulate viewing audience thank you, Jessica Simpson, for your marital silliness. Thank you, too, Paula and Simon, for humiliating hundreds of wanna-be superstars. And you, MTV: we thank you for forgetting about that "music video" nonsense and turning to reality shows for your primary revenue.

We thank you as we watch polar bears prowl in the jungle and cheer as adorable Hiro stops time; as we ponder the weird disease of House's patient and despise the pathetic Dr. Baltar.

Go reality TV!

Ouch.

My blog is worth $0.00.
How much is your blog worth?

Who knew?*

Clearly I'm reading other folks' blogs because I stole the idea from Anita.**


~~~~~~
*Rhetorical question. I know, I need to post more. Yadda-yadda, etc.
** Shameless plug.

Polonius-ness

Well, hey ya'll.

It's been a while. I think the thing with the job thing is all getting up in my stuff. And everything. Anyways.

It's not bad, having a full-time gig with benefits and retirement, etc. I went to the doctor for $20 on Friday,* bought groceries (even some /gasp, items that weren't on sale, just for kicks) even took care of dry cleaning that's spent the last 18 months in my car. Oh, and I paid all of my bills. All of them. Even the ones several months overdue. Now that's something to write home about.

I have learned something interesting, though. Even now, I clip coupons, buy generics, peruse clearance racks, curb impulse buying - in short, even when I technically have the money, I have developed such stringent habits from the days of pb & j sandwiches and keeping the A/C turned off, that I continue to practice them. (that "in short" turned into rather a long - and awkwardly phrased - series of dependent clauses... very Polonial. Poloniusal. You get it.) I mean, what better thrill than when you hand the cashier a sheaf of coupons for items that one had intended to purchase anyway, and watch the savings rack up to $20?! Well, my record is only $19.26 @ ye olde Publix, but STILL!

It's good to be chea... err, thrifty. Less money spent = less thinking about money. {End blog topic.}

{Begin anew, anon}

Okay, Wil Wheaton. Either you know his name, or you don't, and either you loved him in ST:NG, or you hated him. Make no never mind either way, 'cause Wesley is gone and Kyle has arrived. Well, Kyle + Rosemary, to more precise. It's the cartoon debut event of the season! All the cool kids will be watching! Plus, the artist, Jun, sent me stickers, like this one, when I complimented her work on her blog. I love cool people. Especially geeky cool people.

Oh, and BY THE WAY, I have a very profound apology to make to all of my friends, neighbors, and strange people in parking lots who insisted that I start watching "Heroes" last year. You were right, I was wrong. It really IS "that good," as Bryan and I have repeatedly stayed up to 3 and 4am to finish the DVDs as they come in from Netflix. If you're not watching, or you haven't watched last season, make like an egg and get crackin' because Season 2 starts on the 24th. Of September, that is. Sylar is waiting, and he's starting to get hungry... (um. ew. sorry)

I would like to dedicate this blog to Heather. She knew that I'd come back, and it was her faith that urged me on (in more ways than one).

Happy Monday!

~~~
* I also learned that I owed $500 from a previous - uninsured - visit, but they're letting me pay in increments. It ain't bad.

Who's scruffy-lookin'?

Luke, I am your father. (sorry about the ads - the only site I could find with a good video)

Also, if you're interested, new book review on ktgwords (from my copy for the "By the Book" section of Lake Oconee Living Magazine, with additional unpublished material). Enjoy!

This just in: Class counts

At least, actually attending class counts. Again, the research demonstrates that student self-motivation [read: personal responsibility] acts as the fundamental component for a successful education.

Duh.

Look, I'll admit to skipping my fair share of classes as an undergraduate. Usually, however, I skipped out on the huge lecture classes and, quite rightly, ended up with a "B" instead of the "A" that I could have earned. I, however, will never, ever complain that the prof. was unfair or biased. I take full credit for any and all mediocre grades that I earned. I wasn't dumb - just, shall we say, lackadaisical.

All of this techie-stuff we've added to teaching, e.g. WebCT, online courses, podcasting, class chat rooms, blogging requirements, and even student shared folders, are only supplemental. And, in some cases, detrimental, insomuch that students get wrapped up in the techno-frustration of reams of new programs, professor-specific methodologies & processes, and the sometimes questionable sincerity engendered in a system, although becoming less-so, that requires additional levels (and angles) of cognition.

Thanks for reading today's blip. Happy Wednesday!

Recipe for a cyborg nation.

Start with one of the most interesting - yet oddly disconcerting - books of satire and speculation that I have ever read:

Limbo, by: Bernard Wolfe

Fold in a little modern controversy:

Amputee Sprinter

Sprinkle some knowledge of the Transhumanism Movement, Modern Pop-Culture "Cyborg" research, and CyberPunk (Informatics, etc)

And thus we have the (very beginnings of) a debate. Get to reading, friends! I'll be back later with some thoughts.

Virtual me, part II

Okay, here’s the follow-up post.

I pondered this topic for a while – no, strike that. I pondered my reasons for pondering this topic for a while. After a, shall we say, heated conversation with Bryan about it, I began to question my own purpose. He challenged me to explain my “point,” and, I realized, I didn’t actually have one. Rather than completely rescind my post, which seems like cheating in this kind of honest forum, I’ll use this follow-up to explicate my thinking and, hopefully, invite conversation, for my comment pane remained chillingly silent all week.

Let me make a few things clear:

1. I am a gamer, of a sort; I like the quest-like nature of World of Warcraft , EverQuest, etc. I’ve always thought of D&D as a kind of “Choose Your Own Adventure” story, except verbally communicated instead of paper-based. And, no, I do NOT dress up as a character. Ever.

2. I’m not the type to invest myself emotionally in online worlds. I don’t instigate, develop, or pursue relationships (platonic or otherwise) in an online fashion. I also don’t allow – and I’m usually up front with it – others to consider my online avatar that way. Not my thing at all.

3. I try (really I do!) not to pass judgement on those that do become immersed in those worlds, those “other lives,” wherein the other participants become the primary source of many of these individuals’ social interaction.

The purpose, then, for my discussion, must constitute a desire for study of the phenomenon of technological interaction and communication. Ever since my first linguistics course in college, the structures and metamorphoses of language in a technological and instantaneous context have offered tantalizing points for study. (Now I just sound like a pseudo-intellectual. Ah, me.)

Not, of course, that I want to turn online folks into guinea pigs. I think it arises from my own sort of “outer rim” interaction with that culture and my own utter lack of interest in complete immersion (Good grief, what a snob I have become!). To ignore the repurcussions of this shift in communications from interpersonal and, comparatively, slow, to ever-mediated and lightning fast, is tantamount to holding onto the belief that babies arrive courtesy of storks.

And I’m not just thinking of one-to-one communication, either; on the day of the VA Tech killings, my good friend Brooke commented on the "virus-like" nature of the media. The implications of the ubiquitous coverage that day left me feeling both awestruck and reflective. From just a few stories on GoogleNews at 10am, to over 7,000 – and growing – by 2pm, Reuters and AP Wire had changed the front page headlines of newspapers from Blacksburg, Virginia to Syndey, Australia and New Delhi, India. The entire world had time to react to the tragedy at the same pace of the U.S.

Of course, thousands of graduate students, the world over, have written on this topic. Indeed, I had the pleasure of reading one of Melanie’s papers on “1337 speak” (get her to send you a copy – or convince her to post it – it’s brilliant!) for her graduate-level grammar course. I think, however, that if I tackled this realm (again), I’d go after within the framework of linguistic concerns, with an examination of the spiritual / psychological effects (and affects!)

Sooo…. now that I’ve probably embarassed myself with a whole lotta showing off and self-examination, I hereby declare this topic finit! (but you can still comment!)

Virtual me.

Today, I read this article from Julian Dibbell, a Wired editor, linked from this. When I wander onto her page from Wired, I find Regina Lynn’s approach fairly interesting, particularly as she usually addresses topics on the edge of those accepted in "polite company," even though I often disagree with her conclusions. I appreciate typically cunning and often sardonic intelligence as she addresses the underlying psychological, social, and, yes, spiritual concerns about cybersexuality.

As an interesting note, I find that even using that term here, on my personal blog, I feel a hesitance. We, the intellectual technophiles, the self-professed "geeks," (or, wanna-bes*, the students-of-all-things-pop-culture, are not supposed to talk about s**. It’s an intriguing disparity: on the one hand, if I run a discussion in my classroom on the Othello's contradictory obsession with and revulsion of his own sexuality, I should not blink an eye. My students and I can discuss the relative importance of lust in Dante's hierarchy of Hell in "The Inferno," or the social implications of the incest in Oedipus Rex without compunction, and I would blithely proceed through a lecture regarding the same-gender relationships in classical Greece. On the other hand, I am blushing even as I type this post.

Why do I, a former grad student and pseudo-intellectual (aspiring? one must have dreams!) experience a reluctance, surprisingly powerful, to even bring up the subject of Internet-assisted – and/or inspired – intimacy? Perhaps the rampant, yet socially and morally taboo, availability of online pornography has become the standard by which we measure all other forms of technological intimacy. Perhaps, instead, the very idea of that level of psychological sans the corporeal engenders a subtle aversion, a kind of “ick” factor concerning the intrinsic emotional vulnerability that anonymity provides along with an underlying social prohibition against intimacy of that same type, as well as a lurking distrust of the “realness” of the person on the other end. To take that another step, instant messaging, chat rooms, social networking sites, simulated life programs, even online RPG games provoke, even invigorate, a user’s desire to create a persona that either conforms to an ideal, or breaks their own inhibitions in RL (real life) and allows them to virtually experience a world beyond their current capabilities.

I realize that I may sound as if I’m venerating cybersex (blush), but I don’t think so; rather, I hope that you, my gentle readers, recognize my desire to examine my own reactions to and possible establish future expectations of behaviors that are no longer relegated to the edges of cyberspace. In fact, if one reviews the history of the Internet, one will realize that some of the initial public forays into cyberspace consisted of MUDs and MOO’s , which, as the initial link in this post clearly demonstrates, constituted not the expected technological exchanges or business-like emails, but instead provided forum for those persons seeking other personae. The most fascinating aspect of this social interaction, for me, coincides to a degree with my fascination for literature: the myriad**, purposes, and manifestations of those desires. For me, this conversation is not about sexuality at all, not in the lustful, adulterous, or perverse sense. This conversation constitutes just a few minutes pondering of the great big “how in the world did we get here, and what do we do with it?”

I think I’ll write a follow-up post later, as I don’t feel confident that I even addressed properly, much less actually answered to any degree, my own questions.

~~~
*On a humorous note, my MSWord spellcheck suggested a replacement for the slang term “wanna-bes": cannabis. Someone call “Above the Influence”: I have their next commercial in the bag.

**You decide.

Grammar &tc.

Does that title actually even mean anything? I know! I'll ask Grammar Girl!

You may be surprised to note that Grammar Girl ≠ The Grammar Queen . This grammatical wunderkind represents the best of all grammar geekdom: a technological outlet for grammar nerds and grammar noobs, online access to "Down and Dirty Grammar Tips" (oh heck yeah!), and blogiferousness.

In fact, I know she'd probably HATE my verbarianism - despite its cleverness, it's also a bit, oh, I dunno, silly.

It's Language Day on ktg, and I've got some other sites that will tickle your linguistic fancy... especially if you're a teacher that tires of the disparity between content and construct... medium and message... idea and presentation... readability and oh good grief did you even proofread this??:

• A Sesquipedalian Haven
  ~my reaction: Word Geeks to the extreme. Feel smarter, and realize that you are not alone!
  
  
• Dr. Ralph Alan Cohen's "39 Picky Rules"
  ~my reaction: One of the best professors I have ever, EVER had, graduate school included. Not only is he a Shakespeare scholar, the man actually teaches his students how to write. AND he's funny. The man makes grammar and style humorous, if you can believe it.
  
  
• "High Brow" T-Shirts from One Horse Shy
  ~my reaction: Too. Perfect.
  Bad Grammar
  Loosers.
  
  ... and OH so many more.
  

Have at 'em.

The great escape.

Ever feel like this? (you should hear the audio!)

As the end of the semester nears (approaches - draws nigh - looms - threatens - etc) I realize that I seem to feel the turn of the year much more at this time than at the traditional Dec 31/Jan 1 of the Julian calendar. The reason for this reflection is, of course, the years of "schooling" that I've "undertaken" (undergone? underwent??)

In fact, I'm so overwhelmed by the weight of my reflections, that I find I have started this blog post more than six time, with no forward motion. I am floating in a vast ocean of recollection and introspection, searching the only now visible shore of the future for some clue, some idea, of the land I'm approaching. (how's that for an extended metaphor, John Donne!)

Anyway, I still feel compelled to write something (with an obvious preference for that "something" to appear in italics most of the time), even though I'm essentially circumnavigating the issue(s) itself (themselves...hmm.) Time itself may be a problem, since I don't feel I can do justice to my thoughts at the moment. Perhaps after class today.

As to an update, I have discovered a deep, abiding love for the IRS.



(pause)



Riiight.


I had to file an extension with those lovely folks because somewhere amidst my seven (yes, SEVEN) W2s, someone decided to mess it all up and not include my hundreds of dollars of income taxes that I've already paid this year.


Thank my lucky stars for my father - for years, because of an off-hand comment he made when I was 14, I've kept every single pay stub. I hated it; the file folder stuffed full of ragged half-sheets, the sorting every two years, the random stub I neglected to file discovered in my school bag ... my karate bag... my knitting bag. Yet, this year, I learned that, for about the umpeen-millionth time, my dad was right. I told him that, too, and he was less exultant about my admission than I expected: humble, even. He's a great guy, my dad.

I guess, more later. For now, read my yearly April poem from Langston Hughes at the VERY bottom of this page.

AND... be sure to check out the brewmeister's page for pics of he and the eJ's new glorious baby, William.

AND... get your daily dose of (public domain) literature here. What a cool concept!

God is greater than a pair of broken glasses.

I learned that this week. Or, perhaps I should say, re-learned it. Again. For probably the 400-millionth time.

So, Tuesday didn't start as swimmingly as I'd intended. Pretty much like every morning for the past several weeks. Despite the fact that I am achieving a ludicrously luxurious 6-7 hours of sleep every night (that is not sarcasm, by the way. That's truly lavish for me), I cannot seem to get to work at my preferred time of 8am. I know that I lose money for every moment that I'm not sitting at my corner desk, grading little 5th grade essays for the Gret' Stet' of Gawgia;I know that I should get up and go for a run, go to the gym, stretch out, do something physically productive; I know that I'm just wasting time for no real purpose, adding to my financial and, subsequently and consequently, personal stress. But I cannot get out of bed at a reasonable time or pace. I have no excuse, but I'm still asking for advice! Three alarms isn't working anymore.

So. Tuesday. Same thing, except, I was ready to be at work by 9, a significant improvement over the 9:45-ish arrival time. * And then.

I was feeding the cats, as usual. Scoop for Galaxy, scoop for Xander, make sure they're eating out of the right bowls (territorial little things) everyone's happy... I stand up and take a step forward, towards the kitchen. Apparently, my legs and feet were propelling me faster than the upper half of my torso could manage, because as I stepped and straightened up at the same time Wham!. Into the doorframe goes my face.

Yes, ladies and gentleman, I walked into a door. Frame. Glasses first.

[insert joke about Bryan and trying to "cover up the truth." Nope. I really am that clumsy. Besides, you all know that anyone hits me better run for cover 'cuz girl don't play that. Kiai and everything.]

Thus, my trusty frames that have lasted through three opticians, three prescriptions, and four years went kablooooie onto my kitchen floor. Well, perhaps I overdramatize. One of the "arms" broke completely off. They're plastic frames, so there's almost no "fixing" to this type of break. Begin crying session. Not for sentimental reasons, but (and I'm fairly ashamed to say this) because it all felt so unfair. On top of all of the other bills and creditors and lack of finances, it was ONE MORE THING. And not a small MORE THING either.

I got it together (sort of...) and decided to try to go to work on the eJnan's advice: situate the glasses over my ear using the one remaining arm. Silly-looking, but probably workable.

On the way there, as my heart was dark and hopeless-feeling, I suddenly remembered my little brother's b-day gift. He had, with outstanding generosity and love, transferred some extra funds to my bank account. It was a surprise that I learned of just the previous afternoon. It was enough to cover a pair of frames. (wait, it gets better!)

I decided to call in to work and go to the optician instead. I'm starting to feel a little better - I called my little bro and told him where the money was going, and we laughed - actually laughed about the situation. He reminded me about something my dad likes to say: "If all you're worried about is money, then you've got nothing to worry about." (still gets better!!)

As I walked into Five-Points Eye Care , I felt sheepish, but hopeful. And THEN I remembered (the memories were just flooding back that day) that one of Bryan's good friends was an optician there. He called around to find someone to fix my glasses; no go. He said he'd spend the week trying to find just the front piece of my frames, to save some money. AND THEN he popped out my lenses, picked up a pair of Coach frames from the display, and popped my lenses in that set of frames. Mine for a week, so that I can go to work. I can work. AND THEN!!!! The optometrist called (today) to tell me that he'd extend my prescription until October, so all I have to pay for is frames: no lenses, no eye exam.

Point being?

God is greater, and infinitely more loving (and forgiving of my pride) than a pair of broken glasses. Or even I am to myself. I definitely feel more humble and trusting than I did earlier this week. I guess sometimes the people around me, from Bryan & Jenna's encouragement, my brother generousity and love, my optician friend's accommodations, are evidence of God's hand in my life. Again. As usual.

Man, I have a LOT to learn - even stuff I think I've learned I have to keep getting a review.


~~~~~
* For those of you who don't know, I do not have a "set" time to get to work, just guidelines for hourly commitments every week. (Sorry, not a very fun footnote. I suppose, however, that it probably serves more closely the actual function of a footnote than my usual notes. Except for the rest of this, of course.)

whistle while you work.

Howdy-doo! Where have I been? Why, I've been here all the time, you just couldn't see me, as I was/am in a state of dynamic equilibrium. Or maybe YOU were/are in a state of quantum flux. You should get that checked out, dude.

Here I sit, proctoring my own exam. (did I use that correctly? Should I say "administering," like a much-needed vaccine against ignorance? "Inflicting," perhaps? Like a tool for the mass genocide of the tribes of "Iforgot'tostudy" and "yourclass-istoo-hard" ?) and reading blogs, for the first time in, quite actually, months. What a relief--- it's nice to have blogfriends that are readers and thinkers and livers. (ew.)

So much going on, but most of it the same-old, same-old, muchness-of-going-on-ness. Clearly I'm in linguistically playful (or playfully linguistic) writing mood/mode today... isn't this fun?

Enough of my self-indulgence on that score. Let's see...my students are diligently working on some of the toughest exam questions I've ever seen. The best part? I know they're going to be just fine. These kids* are not stupid, they're not even from a poor educational background. Most of them simply lack the tools + confidence + confidence in ability to use the tools that a literature course requires.

What are those tools, really? Well, that's what I'm working on.

Obviously, reading skills. (duh.) But, I actually mean that in a more advanced sense than simple phonetic awareness or so-called "fluency," or even simple vocabulary comprehension. I'm thinking about all of those skills that we IRD teachers learned, and subsequently taught, summer after summer, wherein comprehension isn't simply understanding what happened, rather it's the connection of this what to the questions of character motivation, awareness of narrative structure (even at a subconscious level), connections between action and consequence, and reader response input, i.e., what the reader brings to the work and thus, either consciously or subconsciously, imposes on his own interpretation.

And this is what I think about as my students compose BRILLIANT (I just know it) essays on The Epic of Gilgamesh, The Odyssey, Oedipus, the King, the Book of Genesis, and Akhenaten's "Hymn to the Sun." **

Oh, and I'll put some knitting up soon... I was a hat-knitting-crazy-person this Christmas, and I have a few scarves n' things to show off, including an almost done gift for Linda Musgrove ... that I can't talk about b/c I haven't given it to her yet.

And, oh yeah, that OTHER THING. You know what I'm talkin' about. Hehehe. I love secrets.

~~~~~~~

* Yeah, um, many of my students are hardly kids - and those that are not under the age of 25 are just plain awesome.

**Not all in the same essay, of course. I have to read these, you know!