Ringggg...
At 6am my neighbors and I woke to the fire bell. Waking isn't my favorite thing. Waking violently an hour before my alarm angers me, but I digress.
After peeing and finding my pants and shoes, I lumbered down the nearest staircase and out into the surprisingly empty yard. One man, apparently on patrol, wore an expression of bewilderment I imagine matched my own.
We circled back to the main entrance to meet the other evacuees. An estimated dozen people in sweats had huddled into pairs. I didn't see any children. Fortunately, there were enough young women that we could repopulate the building if the others were lost to whatever calamity set off the bell.
What? It's good to have a backup plan.
And waited
I wasn't watching the time, but I had long enough to circle another building, return to the main entrance, and stare awkwardly at the young woman who wore a pretty dress to the evacuation.
Suddenly a voice pierced the silence. A woman had called someone to ask why there were no emergency personnel: an excellent question. She told whomever, "All of the tenants have evacuated," which I doubt to be the case. In fact, I know few of my neighbors and I could have named more than were outside.
Some things are important
It was then I noticed how busy the gym was. That's across the hall from my apartment, only two doors down. Why were so many people ignoring the alarm? The noise alone would have driven me out.
Arrival
Over the next five minutes or so the emergency vehicles started racing into the complex. "Now you're in a hurry?" I thought. Perhaps whatever started the bell did not alert emergency services?
Suspect
Why was only one person dressed? Her man wore sleep clothes. Was she just getting home? Where had she been? Perhaps by pulling the fire alarm she hoped to avoid "The Talk?"
As you were
I decided to sit and read, but before I finished a page the fire captain sounded all clear. By 6:45 I was back in bed. At 6:50 my alarm went off.
Happy Friday
Monday, September 12, 2011
Saturday, August 13, 2011
Paper Lantern
I found tissue paper
It's pretty and perfect
I want to make something of it
I think it may rain
Maybe it will cool off?
I made a paper lantern
It's pretty and perfect
It flew away on damp air
I think it may rain
Today I think it may storm
I walk through the yard
No sign of my lantern
I found a wad of wet tissue
I think it may rain
The sun always comes out again
I need some new paper
Where will I find it?
I want to make something of it
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Plateau
I've mentioned "the plateau" in previous posts, in so doing taking for granted that everyone knows what that means. Certainly, anyone who manages their weight has experienced a plateau. So has anyone who has pursued any sort of goal. Simply put, the plateau is the point at which whatever you're doing to improve ceases to be effective.
To put it in the frame of weight loss, most folks begin with excitement over a new plan. They lose 5-10 lbs in the first week, then less and less week to week until they stop losing, but they're doing the same thing that lost ten pounds in week one! Some folks get discouraged and quit at this point and gain twenty pounds.
The plateau is something that happens to everyone. My take on the plateau is that whatever change you make initially shocks your body into change. This is a good thing. It's what we want. Gradually, our body adapts and what we're doing is no longer a shock. We can maintain this level of achievement, but we want to continue! It can be frustrating. So, what do we do?
Make another change.
Take my current weight loss as an example. At first, I ate exactly the same foods, I simply cooked at home instead of eating out. This simple change resulted in 10-15 lbs of weight loss in a few weeks, which I maintained for a few months, but lost no more. I plateaued.
Next, I began a journal. Because I've done this before, I set a calorie goal and tracked calories in my journal all at once, but it is also effective to step through each of those changes. I lost another 15-20 lbs, then plateaued again! I feel great, but it's time for more change.
The next changes I plan to make are to increase my intake of vegetables and clean water and to start a daily exercise program. I'm still researching the exercise, which is new to me. I expect these changes to bring me to my goal weight, but if I plateau again, I'll simply make adjustments to my nutrition and exercise, because the bottom line is that's what weight management and fitness in general are all about.
Incidentally, I'm also still wrestling with old habits. I ate cheeseburgers at a fast food restaurant tonight, which would be fine, if I hadn't eaten out last night, and lunch two days ago, etc. However, I will succeed because I know that no matter how many cheeseburgers I eat all I need to do is resume eating veggies and exercising.
Weight management is like housekeeping. It's never over, but it's much easier if you stay on top of it.
To put it in the frame of weight loss, most folks begin with excitement over a new plan. They lose 5-10 lbs in the first week, then less and less week to week until they stop losing, but they're doing the same thing that lost ten pounds in week one! Some folks get discouraged and quit at this point and gain twenty pounds.
The plateau is something that happens to everyone. My take on the plateau is that whatever change you make initially shocks your body into change. This is a good thing. It's what we want. Gradually, our body adapts and what we're doing is no longer a shock. We can maintain this level of achievement, but we want to continue! It can be frustrating. So, what do we do?
Make another change.
Take my current weight loss as an example. At first, I ate exactly the same foods, I simply cooked at home instead of eating out. This simple change resulted in 10-15 lbs of weight loss in a few weeks, which I maintained for a few months, but lost no more. I plateaued.
Next, I began a journal. Because I've done this before, I set a calorie goal and tracked calories in my journal all at once, but it is also effective to step through each of those changes. I lost another 15-20 lbs, then plateaued again! I feel great, but it's time for more change.
The next changes I plan to make are to increase my intake of vegetables and clean water and to start a daily exercise program. I'm still researching the exercise, which is new to me. I expect these changes to bring me to my goal weight, but if I plateau again, I'll simply make adjustments to my nutrition and exercise, because the bottom line is that's what weight management and fitness in general are all about.
Incidentally, I'm also still wrestling with old habits. I ate cheeseburgers at a fast food restaurant tonight, which would be fine, if I hadn't eaten out last night, and lunch two days ago, etc. However, I will succeed because I know that no matter how many cheeseburgers I eat all I need to do is resume eating veggies and exercising.
Weight management is like housekeeping. It's never over, but it's much easier if you stay on top of it.
Monday, April 25, 2011
You Know What To Do
In retrospect, this should have been my first post.
At the risk of sabotaging your defense strategy, I want to let you in on a secret. You already know how to lose weight. You already know what habits you need to change to improve your health. Nobody accidentally eats a supersized double quarter pound cheeseburger meal with fries and a tub of soda. Everyone knows that they're going to feel a little ill after they take a second slice of cheesecake. Everyone knows that if they ran more, they could run farther.
How many times have you heard/read, "Eat less. Exercise more?" Ad nausseum? Me too. Is your reaction the same as mine, "Yeah? How?"
I was overwhelmed. I knew I had to change how much I ate, how often I ate, what I was eating, how much I exercise, what I did for exercise, etc. That's a lot! It makes me want to crawl back into my hole.
The first change just happened. I had to stop eating out because I couldn't afford it for a couple months. This might be the best thing that could have happened. I learned two things. First, the quality of food at restaurants is less than that of what I make at home. Which interests me greatly but I'll save that for another post.
Second and more importantly, I learned that I can make one change at a time.
Wow! What a relief!
After eating at home for a while, I decided to keep a journal and count calories. I want to cover reading labels and counting calories separately. For now I'm grouping those into one change, because I've done them in the past and already knew how.
Change three was adding snacks to my lunch bag for work.
Change four was replacing those snacks with fruit and yogurt.
Change five was eating more salad.
Change six is learning how to exercise efficiently and effectively. In the meantime, I'm walking for exercise several times a week and feel much more energetic.
The point of all that is, to succeed at anything make one change at a time and track your progress. You already know what to do. In fact, you have everything you need to get started.
Keep A Journal
This tip applies to anything you want to succeed at, actually, but I'm going to keep the focus on weight management. As we wander through our day there is a strong tendency to pop things in our mouth one bite at a time:
- Spoonful of peanut butter
- Handful of pretzels
- Cookie from the jar on the counter
- Candy from the jar on our desk
- The last few bites someone left on their plate
- A taste of what we're cooking
- A soda
- Coffee with sugar
Do you want me to keep going, or have you got the idea? By bed time we forget anything we ate which was not a sit down meal. Don't believe me? Can you list everything you've put in your mouth today? Everything? Me either.
I strongly recommend you write down everything you eat at the time you eat it. If you aren't counting calories or servings, yet, then don't worry about that to start. We'll talk about that in another post. Just practice writing everything down. When you're done eating for the day review your journal. You will be surprised by what you ate. It's also likely that you ate less than the day before, simply because you didn't want to write down, "Three pretzels."
The Poverty Diet
My current journey toward weight loss began in November 2010 when my car broke and needed to be replaced. I was planning for that car to last me at least another six months, so its replacement was underfunded. I had to empty my bank account for a down payment and live paycheck to paycheck for a couple months. This meant no eating out.
Prior to that, I was eating all of my meals out. Most people react to that with disbelief. Of course, I must be exaggerating. I'm not. I ate lunch and dinner out, and breakfast several times a week. Other days I skipped breakfast or ate snack food. My weight was high 260s (lbs). I was having a lot of problems with asthma, chronic nasal polyps (those are related), and migraines.
Once I started cooking at home, my menu was fairly limited. I mostly ate the same food I ate out, but I was losing weight eating hamburgers, spaghetti and meatballs, and boxed macaroni and cheese. I will discuss that further in a series of articles, because I find it very interesting.
After losing 10-15 lbs, I decided eating at home was a good idea. Now that I can afford to eat out again, I do so infrequently. For me that means once or twice weekly. That proved to be sufficient to maintain the 10-15 lbs lost, but I plateaued there. I'll talk about how I pushed past that plateau in another post.
Thursday, April 7, 2011
Mission Cupcake
It is approximately 11:13pm. I am squeeging the condensation off the inside of my window while waiting for the red light. The dark-haired, scruffy man driving the car behind me searches desperately for something else to stare at. This is the second dark-haired, scruffy driver to do so today.
Roughly two hours ago I labored on the treadmill to burn 250 calories so that I may enjoy a tasty confection.
Proceeding through the red light I near my objective: the grocery-specifically the cupcakes, therein.
I arrive dressed in navy pinstripe suit pants, a beige printed t-shirt featuring a red space ship stylized as a sake label, brown loafers without socks, and a wool overcoat. The incongruence (that word is mine, you will pay me to use it) being that I have not come for baby formula. A man crosses the parking lot parallel to me reciting his shopping list into his flip phone. Flip phone? Really?
Due to the late hour, I must enter through the exit. I nearly walk into someone to divert the attention of all away from my costume. Briskly, I walk to the bakery.
"That is entirely too many cupcakes," I utter aloud within ear shot of two off duty clerks. They, their shaved heads, and dirty work out clothes depart with no audible response. Realizing I am looking at the "party" cooler, I scan the displays in the aisle and locate my quarry.
It started with donuts. Last night a business associate recounted a tale of hypoglycemic shock and salvation in a box of donuts. Earlier this evening a friend tweeted me about her box of donuts. The pressure mounted, and finally crested when yet another tweep declared the cupcake man's greatest achievement, above fire and the wheel.
That was the straw.
As I munched my healthy and tasty dinner, I began to obsess over the sweet, chocolate cake which was absent from my tongue. The sticky and almost sickly sweet icing I was not licking from my lips. How I had a birthday this year, and every year with a birthday in it should be celebrated.
Arriving at the check out I prepare my excuses.
"Cupcakes, what cupcakes?"
"Oh, they're not for me. I have a friend. He needs cupcakes. It's some medical thing."
"You know kids... (I have no kids, sadly)"
"Drugs? No! Why?"
"Well, a cheesecake would have been ridiculous for just me, don't you think?"
All are unnecessary, as the grubby duo from the bakery have created a diversion. Sweet.
Once home, I review my purchase and find ingredients but no nutritional information. I am consuming unknown calories! I'd better have just two.
11:19pm. Omnomnomnom
Roughly two hours ago I labored on the treadmill to burn 250 calories so that I may enjoy a tasty confection.
Proceeding through the red light I near my objective: the grocery-specifically the cupcakes, therein.
I arrive dressed in navy pinstripe suit pants, a beige printed t-shirt featuring a red space ship stylized as a sake label, brown loafers without socks, and a wool overcoat. The incongruence (that word is mine, you will pay me to use it) being that I have not come for baby formula. A man crosses the parking lot parallel to me reciting his shopping list into his flip phone. Flip phone? Really?
Due to the late hour, I must enter through the exit. I nearly walk into someone to divert the attention of all away from my costume. Briskly, I walk to the bakery.
"That is entirely too many cupcakes," I utter aloud within ear shot of two off duty clerks. They, their shaved heads, and dirty work out clothes depart with no audible response. Realizing I am looking at the "party" cooler, I scan the displays in the aisle and locate my quarry.
It started with donuts. Last night a business associate recounted a tale of hypoglycemic shock and salvation in a box of donuts. Earlier this evening a friend tweeted me about her box of donuts. The pressure mounted, and finally crested when yet another tweep declared the cupcake man's greatest achievement, above fire and the wheel.
That was the straw.
As I munched my healthy and tasty dinner, I began to obsess over the sweet, chocolate cake which was absent from my tongue. The sticky and almost sickly sweet icing I was not licking from my lips. How I had a birthday this year, and every year with a birthday in it should be celebrated.
Arriving at the check out I prepare my excuses.
"Cupcakes, what cupcakes?"
"Oh, they're not for me. I have a friend. He needs cupcakes. It's some medical thing."
"You know kids... (I have no kids, sadly)"
"Drugs? No! Why?"
"Well, a cheesecake would have been ridiculous for just me, don't you think?"
All are unnecessary, as the grubby duo from the bakery have created a diversion. Sweet.
Once home, I review my purchase and find ingredients but no nutritional information. I am consuming unknown calories! I'd better have just two.
11:19pm. Omnomnomnom
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Musical Review: Tallahassee, "Jealous Hands"
"Have I become just another winter tree? ... Is that how you see me?" Brian's voice is a soothing, deep, full, and airy baritone. Singing barely above a whisper and a gentleness that belies the giant, powerful frame of the former NFLer. He is enamored with, and somewhat resembles, Sasquatch (as am I).
I have the distinct honor and privilege of previewing "Jealous Hands," which is to be released April 19th. I will add the iTunes link when I can. (Update: Jealous Hands on iTunes)
"Open Grave" begins with a guitar hook; aptly named, because it literally pulls you into the rhythm. Scott's discerning ear and distaste for cookie cutter guitar benefits us all.
"Counting all your blessings like the scars on a drunkard's hands," "Mt. Moriah" is both soothing and haunting. In fact, I often listen to Tallahassee to relax when I'm stressed at work or having trouble falling asleep, but unlike reading technical articles, if I'm energetic their music also peps me up. On this song the four part harmony stands out and you realize that each man brings a full bag of talent to this shindig.
Based out of Boston, Tallahassee is a hard working band about to release their third album (if you count the EP) to iTunes. I've described their sound as somewhere between Counting Crows and the Traveling Wilbury's. But the fact is I cannot classify this music. They do their own thing. They're doing it with beards.
"Wooden Heart" highlight's Scott's penchant for varied and interesting instruments as well as Matt's impeccable timekeeping behind the drum kit. A true percussionist, Matt feels no compulsion for a fill or solo every other bar. He drives the band, usually slow and steady, and fills in with musical percussion, such as a light cadence with brushes on snare. I wonder if that's him playing the orchestra bells?
I haven't heard the word "baby," yet. Thank you. Brian's lyrics are thought provoking, and done in such a way that they illustrate the story rather than tell it. I can almost smell dried maple leaves and burned wood right now.
Shawn's bass is omnipresent and nigh undetectable. He and Scott meld into a single instrument. Melody's have motion and depth. More like a calm lake than a churning river.
Brian's rhythm guitar is like jello. It just slides in around the edges. There's a synergy in this band which is palpable during a live performance.
"Songs of The Lonely Highway" feels much like I do on a lonely highway... plodding and sleepy. And that's my point. You don't just listen to Tallahassee you hear, feel, see, and experience their emotion and imagination. It's the goal of every artist, isn't it?
I don't think I need to comment on very song, which is great, because I haven't I sort of got sucked into listening. Please, consider doing the same.
PS- "The Ghost of John Denver:" I know you're dying to know what that's about.
PPS- You should know Scott's my brother, so I'm not entirely unbiased. However, this is one of my favorite groups. I won't apologize for that.
I have the distinct honor and privilege of previewing "Jealous Hands," which is to be released April 19th. I will add the iTunes link when I can. (Update: Jealous Hands on iTunes)
"Open Grave" begins with a guitar hook; aptly named, because it literally pulls you into the rhythm. Scott's discerning ear and distaste for cookie cutter guitar benefits us all.
"Counting all your blessings like the scars on a drunkard's hands," "Mt. Moriah" is both soothing and haunting. In fact, I often listen to Tallahassee to relax when I'm stressed at work or having trouble falling asleep, but unlike reading technical articles, if I'm energetic their music also peps me up. On this song the four part harmony stands out and you realize that each man brings a full bag of talent to this shindig.
Based out of Boston, Tallahassee is a hard working band about to release their third album (if you count the EP) to iTunes. I've described their sound as somewhere between Counting Crows and the Traveling Wilbury's. But the fact is I cannot classify this music. They do their own thing. They're doing it with beards.
"Wooden Heart" highlight's Scott's penchant for varied and interesting instruments as well as Matt's impeccable timekeeping behind the drum kit. A true percussionist, Matt feels no compulsion for a fill or solo every other bar. He drives the band, usually slow and steady, and fills in with musical percussion, such as a light cadence with brushes on snare. I wonder if that's him playing the orchestra bells?
I haven't heard the word "baby," yet. Thank you. Brian's lyrics are thought provoking, and done in such a way that they illustrate the story rather than tell it. I can almost smell dried maple leaves and burned wood right now.
Shawn's bass is omnipresent and nigh undetectable. He and Scott meld into a single instrument. Melody's have motion and depth. More like a calm lake than a churning river.
Brian's rhythm guitar is like jello. It just slides in around the edges. There's a synergy in this band which is palpable during a live performance.
"Songs of The Lonely Highway" feels much like I do on a lonely highway... plodding and sleepy. And that's my point. You don't just listen to Tallahassee you hear, feel, see, and experience their emotion and imagination. It's the goal of every artist, isn't it?
I don't think I need to comment on very song, which is great, because I haven't I sort of got sucked into listening. Please, consider doing the same.
PS- "The Ghost of John Denver:" I know you're dying to know what that's about.
PPS- You should know Scott's my brother, so I'm not entirely unbiased. However, this is one of my favorite groups. I won't apologize for that.
Friday, March 25, 2011
Jealousy
"[Beware of] jealousy. The shadow of greed, that is... You must train yourself to let go of that which you fear to lose." - Master Yoda, Revenge of the Sith
A little while ago I caught myself being jealous. This is my confessional.
Jealous of:
"What can I do today to make it better?"
A little while ago I caught myself being jealous. This is my confessional.
Jealous of:
- The people who the people I miss make time to see
- People who travel
- People who have someone to travel with
- Happy couples
- Unhappy couples
- Couples with children
- Singles with children
- Anyone who resents their children, even intermittently
- People who know what they want to do with their life
- People who do what they want to do with their life
- People who travel to warm places
- People who live in warm places
"What can I do today to make it better?"
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Human Behavior: Stan and Carl
"That Ibanez woman gave her notice. I need you to disable her accounts next week." Stan reproaches himself for denying his instinct to let the call go to voice mail. "Thanks for the heads up, Carl. Is there any chance you could call me next week, instead? She still needs her accounts, right, until then?"
"I'm calling you now." There was a click, and dead air. Stan presumes the conversation is over and sets a reminder on his calendar to disable Issy's computer accounts. "I probably should have asked if he wants her email deleted or archived," Stan thinks out loud.
Stan's workstation is cluttered with notes scribbled on random pieces of paper, unframed pictures of his family tacked to the cube wall, and several action figures. He seems fond of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. He's wearing khakis and a moss colored sweater. His hair is tussled where the band of his headphones was sitting. On his desk are two computer monitors. One displays his email inbox full of messages he's already read. The other a dozen overlapping windows of gobbledy-gook which presumably pertains to his work managing the computer systems. But he's primarily focused on his smart phone; on which he tweets, "Coworker is rude when asked to do his own work. Poor guy must have no friends."
After staring into space for a moment, Stan's mumble is barely audible and incomprehensible. What he said was, "I'd better go ask him." He stands and walks from his cubicle, takes the long way past the receptionist and smiles at him, crosses through an empty conference room, walks past the break room, hangs a right into what looks like a supply area, and enters the "back office," where Carl glares at his computer monitor and clicks angrily.
Carl's office has three desks, one chair, and no windows. It's flanked front to back by five-drawer file cabinets. The cabinets and two desks are covered with binders and file boxes full of what Stan assumes to be unnecessarily printed accounting papers. On Carl's desk are several pencils side by side with fresh points, a cup full of one each of: red, blue, and black ink ball point pens; yellow, pink, blue, and green highlighters; black, red, blue, and green dry erase pens; and a black sharp point marker. The papers in Carl's inbox appear to be alphabetized based on the presence of lettered sticky-tabs on their right-hand margin.
Carl is wearing a pressed white shirt with blue stripes. His collar and his cuffs are buttoned and he's wearing a tie and a tie clip. His navy pinstriped jacket is on a hanger hung from a hook on the back of the door. The toes of his polished black shoes are poking out from under the desk.
There are no decorations that Stan can see, nor any item which does not pertain to the business of accounting, except for a single 4x6" photo of him and his family in a plain wooden frame. It seems to Stan it's there because it's "supposed to be."
Carl still hasn't acknowledged Stan, so Stan summons the courage to interrupt, "Hey, Carl, what's wrong?"
"What? Nothing, why?"
"You seem, I don't know, kinda angry."
"Why?"
"Never mind. Hey, I have a question about Ms. Ibanez' email account."
"I asked you to disable that next week." Carl turns his ill-temper on Stan. Stan does not react, keeping his wounded feelings in check.
"Actually, you asked me to disable her network account, which I've scheduled."
"Why didn't you just call?" Carl interrupts.
"Are you sure nothing is wrong?" Stan seems more concerned than chaffed by Carl's apparent disregard for his feelings.
"What's wrong is this computer isn't doing what it's supposed to do and I keep getting interrupted by everyone in the office." Carl straightens in his chair, reveling in his self-perceived boldness, and glares at Stan apparently awaiting acknowledgement.
"I'm sorry. Who else has disturbed you?" Stan asks out of curiosity.
"No one," Carl says with a smirk.
Stan moves on, "Right, so Issy..."
"Who's that?"
"Isabella? Ms. Ibanez?"
"Oh. Why did you call her that?"
"She likes it."
Carl scoffs.
"Anyway, we don't disable email. I need to know if you want it deleted or archived," Stan is trying to hurry this along so he can go outside and release his new-found tension.
"I don't," Carl sighed, or deflated, Stan isn't sure.
"Sorry?"
"I don't want either. I don't care at all. Just do what you usually do." Carl's "patience" has apparently run out.
"I usually do what the requester, um, requests. Hey, who does Issy report to?"
"Townsend."
"Great, thanks! I'll just go ask him what he wants to do and update the information you gave me."
"Super," Carl says sarcastically.
"So, what are you working on, anyway? If your computer isn't working maybe I can help?" Stan offers.
"You can't help. My whole life is like this. I'll just have to suffer like always."
"Great. You enjoy that. I'll talk to you later." Stan lets out a deep breath as he passes the break room.
"I'm calling you now." There was a click, and dead air. Stan presumes the conversation is over and sets a reminder on his calendar to disable Issy's computer accounts. "I probably should have asked if he wants her email deleted or archived," Stan thinks out loud.
Stan's workstation is cluttered with notes scribbled on random pieces of paper, unframed pictures of his family tacked to the cube wall, and several action figures. He seems fond of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. He's wearing khakis and a moss colored sweater. His hair is tussled where the band of his headphones was sitting. On his desk are two computer monitors. One displays his email inbox full of messages he's already read. The other a dozen overlapping windows of gobbledy-gook which presumably pertains to his work managing the computer systems. But he's primarily focused on his smart phone; on which he tweets, "Coworker is rude when asked to do his own work. Poor guy must have no friends."
After staring into space for a moment, Stan's mumble is barely audible and incomprehensible. What he said was, "I'd better go ask him." He stands and walks from his cubicle, takes the long way past the receptionist and smiles at him, crosses through an empty conference room, walks past the break room, hangs a right into what looks like a supply area, and enters the "back office," where Carl glares at his computer monitor and clicks angrily.
Carl's office has three desks, one chair, and no windows. It's flanked front to back by five-drawer file cabinets. The cabinets and two desks are covered with binders and file boxes full of what Stan assumes to be unnecessarily printed accounting papers. On Carl's desk are several pencils side by side with fresh points, a cup full of one each of: red, blue, and black ink ball point pens; yellow, pink, blue, and green highlighters; black, red, blue, and green dry erase pens; and a black sharp point marker. The papers in Carl's inbox appear to be alphabetized based on the presence of lettered sticky-tabs on their right-hand margin.
Carl is wearing a pressed white shirt with blue stripes. His collar and his cuffs are buttoned and he's wearing a tie and a tie clip. His navy pinstriped jacket is on a hanger hung from a hook on the back of the door. The toes of his polished black shoes are poking out from under the desk.
There are no decorations that Stan can see, nor any item which does not pertain to the business of accounting, except for a single 4x6" photo of him and his family in a plain wooden frame. It seems to Stan it's there because it's "supposed to be."
Carl still hasn't acknowledged Stan, so Stan summons the courage to interrupt, "Hey, Carl, what's wrong?"
"What? Nothing, why?"
"You seem, I don't know, kinda angry."
"Why?"
"Never mind. Hey, I have a question about Ms. Ibanez' email account."
"I asked you to disable that next week." Carl turns his ill-temper on Stan. Stan does not react, keeping his wounded feelings in check.
"Actually, you asked me to disable her network account, which I've scheduled."
"Why didn't you just call?" Carl interrupts.
"Are you sure nothing is wrong?" Stan seems more concerned than chaffed by Carl's apparent disregard for his feelings.
"What's wrong is this computer isn't doing what it's supposed to do and I keep getting interrupted by everyone in the office." Carl straightens in his chair, reveling in his self-perceived boldness, and glares at Stan apparently awaiting acknowledgement.
"I'm sorry. Who else has disturbed you?" Stan asks out of curiosity.
"No one," Carl says with a smirk.
Stan moves on, "Right, so Issy..."
"Who's that?"
"Isabella? Ms. Ibanez?"
"Oh. Why did you call her that?"
"She likes it."
Carl scoffs.
"Anyway, we don't disable email. I need to know if you want it deleted or archived," Stan is trying to hurry this along so he can go outside and release his new-found tension.
"I don't," Carl sighed, or deflated, Stan isn't sure.
"Sorry?"
"I don't want either. I don't care at all. Just do what you usually do." Carl's "patience" has apparently run out.
"I usually do what the requester, um, requests. Hey, who does Issy report to?"
"Townsend."
"Great, thanks! I'll just go ask him what he wants to do and update the information you gave me."
"Super," Carl says sarcastically.
"So, what are you working on, anyway? If your computer isn't working maybe I can help?" Stan offers.
"You can't help. My whole life is like this. I'll just have to suffer like always."
"Great. You enjoy that. I'll talk to you later." Stan lets out a deep breath as he passes the break room.
Sunday, February 27, 2011
iPhone Free Weather Apps
The Incumbent: Weather
A pretty and simple Weather app came installed on my iPhone when I bought it, which I used happily to check the temperature and see if I need rain gear before leaving my apartment for the day. That is, I did so until winter. In winter I need to know more than whether or not I expect snow. I need to know how much.
I decided to download the most popular, free weather apps. The contenders: AccuWeather, The Weather Channel, WeatherBug, WeatherEye, Weather+ Free, and Weather HD. All of them display the current temperature and conditions when you first open the app. All of them have a 6-14 day forecast with temperature and expected conditions. So, the bottom line question is...
How much snow will we get?
Weather: Does not predict the amount of precipitation.
AccuWeather: Predicts inches of precipitation on the front page which does not match that in the forecast. The number on the front page seems to be for the inches of precipitation this hour, but I'm honestly unsure.
WeatherBug: Reports inches of rain so far today on the front page, and predicts inches of rain, snow, or ice in the written forecast.
WeatherEye: Predicts inches of rain and inches of snow on the short term forecast. It remembers which tab was open when you closed the app, so your favorite becomes the front page.
Weather+: Shows inches of precipitation on the front page. Personally, I don't know how inches of precipitation relates to inches of snow. Is it relative to what type of precipitation is falling?
Weather HD: Does not predict the amount of precipitation.
The Weather Channel: Predicts inches of snow in the 36 hour forecast.
There's a winter weather advisory for freezing rain over night into tomorrow morning. What information does each app give me?
Weather: Does not mention the advisory or predict accumulation.
AccuWeather: Shows a red exclamation point on the front page which loads the advisory in a web page. The forecast tab predicts 0.4in of precipitation.
WeatherBug: Shows an active alert on the front page which displays the advisory in-app. The forecast predicts up to an inch of snow tonight, with up to one-tenth of an inch of ice by morning.
WeatherEye: Shows a red alert ticker which loads the weather conditions (same as the app front page) in a web page and has another link to the weather advisory. Forecast predicts 0.04in of rain tonight with 0.2in rain and 0.4-1.2in snow by morning.
Weather+: Does not mention the advisory. Forecast predicts 0.12in of precipitation for tomorrow.
This bugged me, because the hourly forecast shows it raining pretty much all day. Sure enough, when I click the hours showing precipitation, one says 0.0in of precipitation (heavy freezing drizzle), another 0.28in of precipitation (moderate rain), next 0.12in of precipitation (moderate rain), and last 0.0in of precipitation (light rain shower).
Weather HD: Does not mention the advisory or predict accumulation.
The Weather Channel: The Severe tab lists active advisories which open in-app. Forecast predicts wintery mix tonight, freezing rain in the morning, and rain all day tomorrow, but does not predict accumulations.
Conclusion
I downloaded these apps at the beginning of winter and have been using The Weather Channel for the past few months, but after my in depth comparison, I think I'll switch to AccuWeather. WeatherBug probably presents the best information in the most simple way, but I have a personal vendetta against WeatherBug for "infecting" PCs with AdWare for my entire professional career. I would have picked WeatherEye if the severe weather advisory had loaded in-app with a single click, because I like the presentation and love that it remembers what tab I'm on when I quit. It's like it knows me.
A pretty and simple Weather app came installed on my iPhone when I bought it, which I used happily to check the temperature and see if I need rain gear before leaving my apartment for the day. That is, I did so until winter. In winter I need to know more than whether or not I expect snow. I need to know how much.
I decided to download the most popular, free weather apps. The contenders: AccuWeather, The Weather Channel, WeatherBug, WeatherEye, Weather+ Free, and Weather HD. All of them display the current temperature and conditions when you first open the app. All of them have a 6-14 day forecast with temperature and expected conditions. So, the bottom line question is...
How much snow will we get?
Weather: Does not predict the amount of precipitation.
AccuWeather: Predicts inches of precipitation on the front page which does not match that in the forecast. The number on the front page seems to be for the inches of precipitation this hour, but I'm honestly unsure.
WeatherBug: Reports inches of rain so far today on the front page, and predicts inches of rain, snow, or ice in the written forecast.
WeatherEye: Predicts inches of rain and inches of snow on the short term forecast. It remembers which tab was open when you closed the app, so your favorite becomes the front page.
Weather+: Shows inches of precipitation on the front page. Personally, I don't know how inches of precipitation relates to inches of snow. Is it relative to what type of precipitation is falling?
Weather HD: Does not predict the amount of precipitation.
The Weather Channel: Predicts inches of snow in the 36 hour forecast.
There's a winter weather advisory for freezing rain over night into tomorrow morning. What information does each app give me?
Weather: Does not mention the advisory or predict accumulation.
AccuWeather: Shows a red exclamation point on the front page which loads the advisory in a web page. The forecast tab predicts 0.4in of precipitation.
WeatherBug: Shows an active alert on the front page which displays the advisory in-app. The forecast predicts up to an inch of snow tonight, with up to one-tenth of an inch of ice by morning.
WeatherEye: Shows a red alert ticker which loads the weather conditions (same as the app front page) in a web page and has another link to the weather advisory. Forecast predicts 0.04in of rain tonight with 0.2in rain and 0.4-1.2in snow by morning.
Weather+: Does not mention the advisory. Forecast predicts 0.12in of precipitation for tomorrow.
This bugged me, because the hourly forecast shows it raining pretty much all day. Sure enough, when I click the hours showing precipitation, one says 0.0in of precipitation (heavy freezing drizzle), another 0.28in of precipitation (moderate rain), next 0.12in of precipitation (moderate rain), and last 0.0in of precipitation (light rain shower).
Weather HD: Does not mention the advisory or predict accumulation.
The Weather Channel: The Severe tab lists active advisories which open in-app. Forecast predicts wintery mix tonight, freezing rain in the morning, and rain all day tomorrow, but does not predict accumulations.
Conclusion
I downloaded these apps at the beginning of winter and have been using The Weather Channel for the past few months, but after my in depth comparison, I think I'll switch to AccuWeather. WeatherBug probably presents the best information in the most simple way, but I have a personal vendetta against WeatherBug for "infecting" PCs with AdWare for my entire professional career. I would have picked WeatherEye if the severe weather advisory had loaded in-app with a single click, because I like the presentation and love that it remembers what tab I'm on when I quit. It's like it knows me.
Monday, February 21, 2011
Musical Review: La Dauphine, "Shh..."
Hey party people. We're taking a break from the human behavior project because, well, I'm stuck. The next two characters are introverts and it's hard to write about what they're thinking as they stare at each other, silently.
Anyway, I popped on to Twitter briefly for one of my hit and run tweeting sessions, and caught a post from @cburnham mentioning the release to iTunes of Shh... (The Acoustic Tracks) by La Dauphine, which I promptly bought and downloaded. I've been waiting some time.
I became aware of La Dauphine on Twitter, from where I know her also as Faith, which is easier to type, so I'm switching to that for the rest of the article.
iTunes calls it an album, but it's only four tracks. I'm not sure if that's technically a single or an EP. Regardless, it's beautiful. Let me elaborate.
First up, "Marie, Je T'aime." My initial reaction was, "This is catchy." I should mention that each track is composed of a piano and Faith's voice. The piano is full, I guess, is how I want to describe it. There's a lot of motion in the bass notes, she's (I presume it's her playing, I should ask) playing full chords as well as touching on the melody. It's not unique, I guess, but it is moving. As I type I'm listening and I am thinking, "Is it like Jerry Lee Lewis? No, more melodic, less cookie cutter. Tori Amos? Similar, less brooding, fewer treble runs. Evanescence? Amy Lee's piano is also very full and energetic, but it's still not exactly the same," and so on. Can you tell I'm a sucker for piano rock and strong female vocals?
Speaking of, next up is, "Superhuman." Where as "Je T'aime" starts with La Dauphine singing immediately, "Superhuman," starts with a slow, quiet piano solo, which builds dramatically over the first thirty seconds, the note is held, and the voice enters... the first time I heard it the air literally left my lungs. Even now I've heard it maybe a dozen times and I still have goose bumps. If I learn tomorrow that Faith has studied opera I will nod and mutter, "That 'splains it." "Superhuman," is far and away my favorite track, and builds in me excitement to hear some of the 40 as-yet-unreleased tracks she's teased me with on Twitter.
Moving on to, "Enough." It feels like Faith is KISSing (Keeping It Simple S...) here. On "Enough," the lyrics rule. I want you to listen to it, so I'm not going to discuss it too much. She describes thoughts we all have and an evolution of the narrator's character that we will all identify with and does it without digressing into cookie cutter phrases and stale cliches (thanks for that).
Finally, "Letters to the King." I may be reading into the lyrics, but I believe this song ties up a cohesive story which runs through all four songs. When you hear it, you will relate to the swelling and crashing emotion that resolves with quiet determination: at once sad, but hopeful.
Most importantly, Faith is obviously capable of many mind blowing piano and especially vocal stunts, but unlike too many artists, she is not compelled to add them to every song and reserves them for profound emphasis. Well done!
Look, it's $4. Skip the latte frappaccino and download the thing. Tell your friends. It will brighten your day. It did mine.
Anyway, I popped on to Twitter briefly for one of my hit and run tweeting sessions, and caught a post from @cburnham mentioning the release to iTunes of Shh... (The Acoustic Tracks) by La Dauphine, which I promptly bought and downloaded. I've been waiting some time.
 |
| Shh... (Image used without permission. Link to source.) |
iTunes calls it an album, but it's only four tracks. I'm not sure if that's technically a single or an EP. Regardless, it's beautiful. Let me elaborate.
First up, "Marie, Je T'aime." My initial reaction was, "This is catchy." I should mention that each track is composed of a piano and Faith's voice. The piano is full, I guess, is how I want to describe it. There's a lot of motion in the bass notes, she's (I presume it's her playing, I should ask) playing full chords as well as touching on the melody. It's not unique, I guess, but it is moving. As I type I'm listening and I am thinking, "Is it like Jerry Lee Lewis? No, more melodic, less cookie cutter. Tori Amos? Similar, less brooding, fewer treble runs. Evanescence? Amy Lee's piano is also very full and energetic, but it's still not exactly the same," and so on. Can you tell I'm a sucker for piano rock and strong female vocals?
Speaking of, next up is, "Superhuman." Where as "Je T'aime" starts with La Dauphine singing immediately, "Superhuman," starts with a slow, quiet piano solo, which builds dramatically over the first thirty seconds, the note is held, and the voice enters... the first time I heard it the air literally left my lungs. Even now I've heard it maybe a dozen times and I still have goose bumps. If I learn tomorrow that Faith has studied opera I will nod and mutter, "That 'splains it." "Superhuman," is far and away my favorite track, and builds in me excitement to hear some of the 40 as-yet-unreleased tracks she's teased me with on Twitter.
Moving on to, "Enough." It feels like Faith is KISSing (Keeping It Simple S...) here. On "Enough," the lyrics rule. I want you to listen to it, so I'm not going to discuss it too much. She describes thoughts we all have and an evolution of the narrator's character that we will all identify with and does it without digressing into cookie cutter phrases and stale cliches (thanks for that).
Finally, "Letters to the King." I may be reading into the lyrics, but I believe this song ties up a cohesive story which runs through all four songs. When you hear it, you will relate to the swelling and crashing emotion that resolves with quiet determination: at once sad, but hopeful.
Most importantly, Faith is obviously capable of many mind blowing piano and especially vocal stunts, but unlike too many artists, she is not compelled to add them to every song and reserves them for profound emphasis. Well done!
Look, it's $4. Skip the latte frappaccino and download the thing. Tell your friends. It will brighten your day. It did mine.
Monday, February 14, 2011
Human Behavior: Danielle Interviews Isabelle
Danielle Davis sits bolt upright—her cellphone laid clock facing up on a table for two in a cafe downtown—and glares at the entrance. The clock reads 10:02 AM. Her tailored, navy-blue, wool business suit shouts, “I mean business!” A simple but distinctive necklace made of large silver links interrupted periodically by topaz tiles that match her eyes almost exactly hangs down to her waist. With her white silk blouse buttoned nearly to her neck, only the drape of the necklace reveals the contour of her gym sculpted body. Her straight, brown, shoulder length hair is pinned behind her ear, from which a long, twisted, silver triangle dangles. She commands attention.
Isabelle Ibanez enters clumsily. Her phone is pinned between her cheek and shoulder. Her huge, red, unfastened, patent-leather bag flees her shoulder, presumably chasing its contents; some of which have already escaped. She’s waving to someone through the shop window as a man who was passing by stoops to collect her wayward belongings. Dani wonders for a moment how Issy’s big, curly blond hair fit through the door before she remembers how angry she is. Issy smooths her white cotton skirt printed with large flowers in primary colors before taking her seat at Dani’s table; her numerous pieces of jewelry clinking merrily as she does so. Her yellow blazer barely constrains the ruffled blouse beneath. She may not be as svelte as the day she bought this outfit. She attracts attention.
“Hi! Danielle? It’s so good to finally meet you!”
“You’re late,” Danielle almost shouts through her clenched teeth. She tilts her phone-clock toward Issy without breaking eye contact.
“Oh, it took forever to find a parking spot, and then I got a phone call...” Issy begins; she was obviously about to launch into a lengthy and dramatic recounting of her commute.
“Let’s get started,” Dani interrupts. “You’ve applied for a sales position. I’ve already called your references. They agree that your best asset is your relationship with your clients.”
Issy ejaculates, “Oh, yes! I have hundreds of clients! I love them! Each one is my very best friend!”
Dani grimaces as she decides not to mention that one can have only one best friend. She proceeds, “Can you tell me the average gross sales of all 87 of your accounts?”
“Oh, no. I don’t worry about that stuff. Somebody else does it.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know. I think it's one of those quiet people that work in the back of the office. Do you know they have no windows?! They always look sad.”
Dani’s seething is evident to everyone within earshot, except Issy, whose hazel eyes are darting around the cafe at the other patrons. “Am I keeping you?” Danielle asks, annoyed.
“No! Why?!”
“Never mind. Are you saying that you don’t track your daily and weekly achievements against your monthly goal?” Dani is visibly disgusted.
Issy seems confused, “I make as many friends as I can every day, and when they like me they introduce me to their friends. When I tell them I’m an account rep they always want to buy from me, because they like me!” She straightens in her chair, obviously proud of being so well liked that her bills are paid, as if by magic.
“I see. I have to be honest. We expect our sales reps to be organized and meet or exceed their quotas. We really don’t pay people to ‘make friends.’ We aren’t looking for friends, we are looking for sales.”
“If you don’t have friends, who do you sell to?”
“Our clients.”
“But, they aren’t clients until after they like you, are they?” Suddenly, Issy seems less like a clown, and more like an eccentric genius, but Dani is not about to share that with her. “Where did you get it, by the way?”
“Get what?” Now Dani is confused and wondering how she lost control of the conversation so quickly.
“That lovely necklace! I absolutely love it! I have to say, you looked a little uptight sitting here, but now that I’m close enough to see your necklace, I feel like I found your inner party girl! I can’t wait until we work together so we can go to happy hour and break the boys’ hearts!”
Dani finds herself unable to suppress her smile entirely, letting slip a Mona Lisa like grin. “Oh, I picked it up at a house party one of the girls in the office threw last year. You really like it?”
Isabelle Ibanez enters clumsily. Her phone is pinned between her cheek and shoulder. Her huge, red, unfastened, patent-leather bag flees her shoulder, presumably chasing its contents; some of which have already escaped. She’s waving to someone through the shop window as a man who was passing by stoops to collect her wayward belongings. Dani wonders for a moment how Issy’s big, curly blond hair fit through the door before she remembers how angry she is. Issy smooths her white cotton skirt printed with large flowers in primary colors before taking her seat at Dani’s table; her numerous pieces of jewelry clinking merrily as she does so. Her yellow blazer barely constrains the ruffled blouse beneath. She may not be as svelte as the day she bought this outfit. She attracts attention.
“Hi! Danielle? It’s so good to finally meet you!”
“Oh, it took forever to find a parking spot, and then I got a phone call...” Issy begins; she was obviously about to launch into a lengthy and dramatic recounting of her commute.
“Let’s get started,” Dani interrupts. “You’ve applied for a sales position. I’ve already called your references. They agree that your best asset is your relationship with your clients.”
Issy ejaculates, “Oh, yes! I have hundreds of clients! I love them! Each one is my very best friend!”
Dani grimaces as she decides not to mention that one can have only one best friend. She proceeds, “Can you tell me the average gross sales of all 87 of your accounts?”
“Oh, no. I don’t worry about that stuff. Somebody else does it.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know. I think it's one of those quiet people that work in the back of the office. Do you know they have no windows?! They always look sad.”
Dani’s seething is evident to everyone within earshot, except Issy, whose hazel eyes are darting around the cafe at the other patrons. “Am I keeping you?” Danielle asks, annoyed.
“No! Why?!”
“Never mind. Are you saying that you don’t track your daily and weekly achievements against your monthly goal?” Dani is visibly disgusted.
Issy seems confused, “I make as many friends as I can every day, and when they like me they introduce me to their friends. When I tell them I’m an account rep they always want to buy from me, because they like me!” She straightens in her chair, obviously proud of being so well liked that her bills are paid, as if by magic.
“I see. I have to be honest. We expect our sales reps to be organized and meet or exceed their quotas. We really don’t pay people to ‘make friends.’ We aren’t looking for friends, we are looking for sales.”
“If you don’t have friends, who do you sell to?”
“Our clients.”
“But, they aren’t clients until after they like you, are they?” Suddenly, Issy seems less like a clown, and more like an eccentric genius, but Dani is not about to share that with her. “Where did you get it, by the way?”
“Get what?” Now Dani is confused and wondering how she lost control of the conversation so quickly.
“That lovely necklace! I absolutely love it! I have to say, you looked a little uptight sitting here, but now that I’m close enough to see your necklace, I feel like I found your inner party girl! I can’t wait until we work together so we can go to happy hour and break the boys’ hearts!”
Dani finds herself unable to suppress her smile entirely, letting slip a Mona Lisa like grin. “Oh, I picked it up at a house party one of the girls in the office threw last year. You really like it?”
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Human Behavior: Game Plan
Since posting about human behavior recently I have struggled with how to present the material. I have decided to invent a cast of fictitious characters and write soap opera style stories about how they interact with each other.
If all goes well, you and I will learn:
If all goes well, you and I will learn:
- To understand our own behavior model: how we differ from others and what our strengths are
- To read others' behavior model
- To adjust our expectations of others based on their behavior model
- To adjust our behavior toward others to improve our relationships
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Special Gift
An excerpt from an article about gifts for men on their 40th birthday:
"Of the milestone birthdays that men reach, 40 may be the most pivotal. It means closing the book on some of the more youthful dreams and pursuits, while celebrating the positive results of several decades of hard work and long-lasting relationships."
Oh, man, is that presumptive. I have precisely one long term relationship outside of my family members. Five by extension when you count his family members. I don't remember the last time I spoke to any of them. There goes that. My decades of hard work are unfocused, to say the least, and while there are positive outcomes—I'm remarkably good at starting from zero and getting on my feet in three months—of the past decade's work, I still don't feel it's worth celebrating: letters of recognition I'd store away in a shoe box in the back of the hall closet, perhaps.
I happened to catch another blog about the biological clock. The poster and majority of commenters are thirty-ish. One commenter summed up my situation, nicely:
However, if you are Amy Adams, know Amy, or resemble her in any way give me a call. Better late than never, I always say. Well, I'm saying it now.
"Of the milestone birthdays that men reach, 40 may be the most pivotal. It means closing the book on some of the more youthful dreams and pursuits, while celebrating the positive results of several decades of hard work and long-lasting relationships."
Oh, man, is that presumptive. I have precisely one long term relationship outside of my family members. Five by extension when you count his family members. I don't remember the last time I spoke to any of them. There goes that. My decades of hard work are unfocused, to say the least, and while there are positive outcomes—I'm remarkably good at starting from zero and getting on my feet in three months—of the past decade's work, I still don't feel it's worth celebrating: letters of recognition I'd store away in a shoe box in the back of the hall closet, perhaps.
I happened to catch another blog about the biological clock. The poster and majority of commenters are thirty-ish. One commenter summed up my situation, nicely:
Amanda, you have plenty of time, you’re only 30. I can appreciate all the comments here but what about the fact that for some women, the opportunity to have a child, with a partner, never arises. This is exactly what happened to me.What would I choose for my special 40th birthday gift? What would sum up nicely my accomplishments and be worth celebrating? Probably a framed montage of my kids accomplishments. I'll probably ask for a dress shirt and work on my new dream.
I didn’t get married until 34, divorced at 39 and now that I’m 43 I don’t have a partner to have a child with. I never planned this, but that’s how the cards were dealt. Now I would kill to have a child and it’s going to be up to me to decide (within 2 years) whether I will adopt, or attempt to biologically conceive on my own. It breaks my heart now, but I don’t believe in choosing a partner with the intent to use him as a sperm donor only. And, I know I’m in the minority here but I see nothing wrong with a woman having a child in her 40s. I am healthier, have more energy and more wisdom now to raise a child than I did when I was 30. My lifestyle choices at the age were unacceptable to parent a child, in my opinion.
Comment by lola — February 8th, 2011 @ 12:03 pm
However, if you are Amy Adams, know Amy, or resemble her in any way give me a call. Better late than never, I always say. Well, I'm saying it now.
Monday, February 7, 2011
The Fighter
I just got back from watching The Fighter. And the bank. And the grocery store. And the gas station. Two gas stations, actually, because the first was out of gas. Well, not all gas, just regular, and it's already ridiculously expensive and an extra forty cents per ten gallons is $4, and now we're talking about the principle of the thing...
Focus.
I just got back from watching The Fighter. I was told it was about boxing. All I saw was Amy Adams.
Seriously, it was like the bastard child of Rocky and The Town, with a special twist. It was a drama about a documentary about the made up character based on a real life person who appeared during the credits. My mind is like a ball of yarn that the cat played with.
Mom, this would be a good time for you to stop reading. Amy, if you can read this, I have thought of little but you, me, a bottle of Hershey's syrup, and Discovery Channel quality animal sex since watching this scene from Talladega Nights.
Call. Me.
Focus.
I just got back from watching The Fighter. I was told it was about boxing. All I saw was Amy Adams.
 |
| Call me. |
Mom, this would be a good time for you to stop reading. Amy, if you can read this, I have thought of little but you, me, a bottle of Hershey's syrup, and Discovery Channel quality animal sex since watching this scene from Talladega Nights.
 |
| Dear, sweet, baby Jesus. |
Monday, January 31, 2011
Human Behavior: People Are People
Personality traits are preferences, much the same as being right or left handed.
Names that authors give to the four personality archetypes vary and are often archaic. These articles will use plain language words: Direct, Interactive, Steady, and Calculating. Likewise, the phrase "personality types" suggests you are stuck with your preference. Here we'll discuss "behaviors," because these can be adjusted.
A right handed person has a perfectly good left hand, which is every bit as capable as the right. He simply prefers the right, and his natural tendency is to use the right. However, he can train his left. For instance, during summer vacations I used to like to play basketball. I am right handed. I was weak on the foul line. To improve, I practiced shooting foul shots with my left hand. Doing so also improved my performance with my right hand.
Similarly, the more you learn about personality types, the better you understand yourself. You learn how to play to your strengths and compensate for your weaknesses; becoming a well rounded person.
Also, the strength of the preference varies among individuals. Some people are mostly right handed, but will bat left handed. Some people are ambidextrous. It's helpful to think of a person's preference on a scale from one to ten.
In fact there are two scales from one to ten which intersect at five. The vertical scale measures a person's pace with one being "completely" slow paced (reserved, soft spoken, introverted) and ten being completely fast paced (outgoing, loud, "takes action"). The horizontal scale measures priority with one being completely task oriented and ten being completely people oriented. Regard the illustration.
In fact most people exhibit some behaviors from every archetype. Their first preference is usually the most obvious and is what you notice when you first meet them. As you get to know them, you'll observe their second and perhaps third preferences. It's most common to discuss the first two.
Now is a good time to note that preferences may change under stress or in certain circumstances. A normally laid-back, steady person may become loud and aggressive at the poker table. An interactive social butterfly may become shy and soft spoken when intimidated by someone he perceives as having authority over him.
The Direct wants to achieve, the Interactive to experience, the Steady to observe, and the Calculating to analyze. In upcoming articles we'll examine each archetype in depth so we can understand why people do the things they do. Then we'll discuss how to adjust our reactions so we can relate better to others, avoid getting irritated by their differences, make friends easily, and improve our relationships. People like people who are like themselves.
Names that authors give to the four personality archetypes vary and are often archaic. These articles will use plain language words: Direct, Interactive, Steady, and Calculating. Likewise, the phrase "personality types" suggests you are stuck with your preference. Here we'll discuss "behaviors," because these can be adjusted.
A right handed person has a perfectly good left hand, which is every bit as capable as the right. He simply prefers the right, and his natural tendency is to use the right. However, he can train his left. For instance, during summer vacations I used to like to play basketball. I am right handed. I was weak on the foul line. To improve, I practiced shooting foul shots with my left hand. Doing so also improved my performance with my right hand.
Similarly, the more you learn about personality types, the better you understand yourself. You learn how to play to your strengths and compensate for your weaknesses; becoming a well rounded person.
Also, the strength of the preference varies among individuals. Some people are mostly right handed, but will bat left handed. Some people are ambidextrous. It's helpful to think of a person's preference on a scale from one to ten.
In fact there are two scales from one to ten which intersect at five. The vertical scale measures a person's pace with one being "completely" slow paced (reserved, soft spoken, introverted) and ten being completely fast paced (outgoing, loud, "takes action"). The horizontal scale measures priority with one being completely task oriented and ten being completely people oriented. Regard the illustration.
 |
| DISC Model of Human Behavior |
Now is a good time to note that preferences may change under stress or in certain circumstances. A normally laid-back, steady person may become loud and aggressive at the poker table. An interactive social butterfly may become shy and soft spoken when intimidated by someone he perceives as having authority over him.
The Direct wants to achieve, the Interactive to experience, the Steady to observe, and the Calculating to analyze. In upcoming articles we'll examine each archetype in depth so we can understand why people do the things they do. Then we'll discuss how to adjust our reactions so we can relate better to others, avoid getting irritated by their differences, make friends easily, and improve our relationships. People like people who are like themselves.
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Slow Talker: Stupid, Introverted, or Both?
Hey, quick one tonight. I was talking with my friend the other day about a friend of hers, whose behavior had confused her. I asked if he talked slow or fast. Her reply was, "He's not stupid."
Wow. That's an eye opener. I'm a slow talker. I wonder what she thinks of me?
People are either fast or slow paced. Fast paced people act, then think. Slow paced people think, then act. Fast paced people are sometimes referred to as extroverted, and slow ones introverted. Intellectuals tend to be slow paced⎯you know, because of the thinking⎯as opposed to fast paced men of action.
People are also either task or people oriented. Task oriented people are concerned with results. People oriented people are concerned with feelings.
So, people are either fast or slow paced and either task or people oriented. 2 x 2 = 4 different behavior models. Simple. What that means and what you do with it will take several articles to explain.
So my task oriented friend was confused by what sounded to me like a people oriented decision. Maybe I should have started with that question? But then, I wouldn't have written this blog, would I? Things happen for a reason.
Wow. That's an eye opener. I'm a slow talker. I wonder what she thinks of me?
People are either fast or slow paced. Fast paced people act, then think. Slow paced people think, then act. Fast paced people are sometimes referred to as extroverted, and slow ones introverted. Intellectuals tend to be slow paced⎯you know, because of the thinking⎯as opposed to fast paced men of action.
People are also either task or people oriented. Task oriented people are concerned with results. People oriented people are concerned with feelings.
So, people are either fast or slow paced and either task or people oriented. 2 x 2 = 4 different behavior models. Simple. What that means and what you do with it will take several articles to explain.
So my task oriented friend was confused by what sounded to me like a people oriented decision. Maybe I should have started with that question? But then, I wouldn't have written this blog, would I? Things happen for a reason.
Saturday, January 22, 2011
Mac Attack (@mellank, @sethdesantis)
This post comes to you by special request. Some background: during the day I am a Windows computer network administrator. I know all there is to know about Windows, save perhaps how to compile it from source. If I just lost you, I'm qualified to teach you.
Last year, while I was rushing to finish my taxes, my Windows laptop broke. It is a computer I had only recently refurbished. My back up computer was a Windows netbook, which was cute and good for some light web surfing but not up to the tasks of daily computer use. My synopsis of the Windows computer experience:
My synopsis of the MacBook user experience is, "It just works."
Out of the box I could browse the web, connect to Gmail, synchronize my Gmail contacts, listen to music, synchronize and organize my music player, synchronize and organize my photos with enough editing to handle most simple changes, take pictures with the built in camera, watch videos and DVDs, record and edit video, record and edit music, read PDF files, edit web pages, back up the computer, and synchronize computer files and settings with an online account.
I needed to add some applications, but I didn't need them to do what I opened the laptop for at that moment, which was connect to TaxAct and complete my return.
When it came time to install an office suite, Firefox, and a Twitter client I thought for a minute about how to find these and decided to check Apple's website first to see if they had a list of recommended downloads. They did! I found NeoOffice, Echofon, and Firefox. I clicked links on the Apple site to download them. For those who are unfamiliar, here's a brief description of the Mac install and remove process:
Although that process is easy enough for most people, it is not obvious. How can we go one better? The App store.
Now, there's an app on your dock which connects to an online catalog. It lets you search, browse, purchase, and install all in one spot. When you install, you give your iTunes password. The App store downloads and places your new application in your Applications folder, and its icon on your dock. Bang. I replaced Echofon with Twitter, which is as awesome as the iPhone version. Yeah, Twitter!
When updates are available, you are told and given the choice to begin or wait until later. If you choose wait until later, that's the end of it. This is unlike Windows, which will nag you every few minutes with a pop up that invariably pops up while you're typing, causing you to reboot unexpectedly, losing work. Mac does not do that.
Also relating to user experience:
Last year, while I was rushing to finish my taxes, my Windows laptop broke. It is a computer I had only recently refurbished. My back up computer was a Windows netbook, which was cute and good for some light web surfing but not up to the tasks of daily computer use. My synopsis of the Windows computer experience:
- You have to "fix" it every time you use it
- The fix may be as simple as software update or as complicated as a virus removal
- In your office, there's a guy like me shielding you from that pain
- It doesn't "just work"
- You have to install drivers for your printer
- You have to install Flash or Java to open your favorite web page
- You have to install Office
- You have to install an email program
- You have to install a program to store and organize your camera's photos
- You have to install a program to edit photos
- ...
- Because of the above, you can't just pull out your laptop and do a thing while you're thinking about it, which is a productivity killer
My synopsis of the MacBook user experience is, "It just works."
Out of the box I could browse the web, connect to Gmail, synchronize my Gmail contacts, listen to music, synchronize and organize my music player, synchronize and organize my photos with enough editing to handle most simple changes, take pictures with the built in camera, watch videos and DVDs, record and edit video, record and edit music, read PDF files, edit web pages, back up the computer, and synchronize computer files and settings with an online account.
I needed to add some applications, but I didn't need them to do what I opened the laptop for at that moment, which was connect to TaxAct and complete my return.
 |
| She gets me |
- Download a dmg (disk image) file
- Open the disk image
- Drag the application icon from the disk to the Applications folder
- Open the application
- Pin the app icon to the dock
- Unpin the app icon from the dock
- Delete the application file from the Application folder
Although that process is easy enough for most people, it is not obvious. How can we go one better? The App store.
Now, there's an app on your dock which connects to an online catalog. It lets you search, browse, purchase, and install all in one spot. When you install, you give your iTunes password. The App store downloads and places your new application in your Applications folder, and its icon on your dock. Bang. I replaced Echofon with Twitter, which is as awesome as the iPhone version. Yeah, Twitter!
When updates are available, you are told and given the choice to begin or wait until later. If you choose wait until later, that's the end of it. This is unlike Windows, which will nag you every few minutes with a pop up that invariably pops up while you're typing, causing you to reboot unexpectedly, losing work. Mac does not do that.
Also relating to user experience:
- The screen is beautiful, but at 1280 x 800 pixels, it is not a lot of screen real estate. If I was working on this for eight hours a day I would use at least one external display.
- The keyboard is... I can't say for sure but I find it difficult to touch type on it. If I was working on this all day long I would use my Microsoft Comfort Curve 2000 keyboard.
- The battery lasts forever. I can be out and about for one or two days, depending on what I'm doing and how much of it I'm doing. On one outing I spent six hours in my local Panera Bread.
- I am deeply in love with Apple's capacitive multitouch pads. If I was working all day long I would use the Magic Pad to preserve the experience of the built in pad while using the external keyboard.
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
"Happy" Birthday
February 15, 2005, 7:00 pm
I sit alone in the frigid vestibule of a Red Lobster. I didn't want Red Lobster. I didn't want to eat out. I was bullied into it. It's my 34th birthday.
As I wait for my wife to arrive and maliciously track her progress against the hostess finding us a table, I stare absentmindedly at a young couple on the bench opposite me. They are all over each other; enjoying their moment/any moment/each moment. I am angry. I am lonely. I am sad.
At least one third of my life has passed. My predominant thought as I sit for eternity is, "I haven't done anything I want."
January 19, 2011, 3:00 am
I sit alone in a cluttered apartment. I've just woken from a bad sleep. I feel almost exactly the same as that night which comes rushing back so vividly to my mind. Except this time there's no convenient villain to blame for my feelings or my lack of progress.
Progress toward what? I haven't achieved what I want, because I haven't defined it. My life long dream was to have a family, but I was unsuccessful in finding the right woman to have it with. I was late in finding the wrong one.
As I sit on the verge of my 40th birthday I mourn my unborn children who ought to be at college leaving me to decide what to do next. I still haven't found their mother. When your dream dies, how do you find another?
I sit alone in the frigid vestibule of a Red Lobster. I didn't want Red Lobster. I didn't want to eat out. I was bullied into it. It's my 34th birthday.
As I wait for my wife to arrive and maliciously track her progress against the hostess finding us a table, I stare absentmindedly at a young couple on the bench opposite me. They are all over each other; enjoying their moment/any moment/each moment. I am angry. I am lonely. I am sad.
At least one third of my life has passed. My predominant thought as I sit for eternity is, "I haven't done anything I want."
January 19, 2011, 3:00 am
I sit alone in a cluttered apartment. I've just woken from a bad sleep. I feel almost exactly the same as that night which comes rushing back so vividly to my mind. Except this time there's no convenient villain to blame for my feelings or my lack of progress.
Progress toward what? I haven't achieved what I want, because I haven't defined it. My life long dream was to have a family, but I was unsuccessful in finding the right woman to have it with. I was late in finding the wrong one.
As I sit on the verge of my 40th birthday I mourn my unborn children who ought to be at college leaving me to decide what to do next. I still haven't found their mother. When your dream dies, how do you find another?
Monday, January 3, 2011
What's Your Super Power?
My standard answer is that I have two powers: invisibility and mind control. I'm wondering now if my invisibility isn't rather a feat of mind control. That is, am I projecting my own wish not to be seen into the minds of others? This seems likely, as I can always be seen by children and animals. I want them to.
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