Recently my supervisor decided that the women in the group were too loud. He went as far as to put it in our annual review.
To offer some perspective, our floor was renovated using a new philosophy called “open area” cubicles. This is supposed to foster exchange of knowledge and team-work. Because of the low cubicle walls and lack of an aisle separation panel, the voices flow out into the open areas.
We had an independent sound technician come over and measure the noise levels. Apparently the materials used in the ceiling, floor and cubicle walls are noise reflective, not noise absorbing. The ambient noise level on our floor is 10 decibels above the ambient noise on the third floor which has the higher cubicle walls, separation panels and noise absorbing materials. So the floor design fosters a higher level of noise.
We were also informed that, in general, women’s voices are at a higher frequency then men’s voices. So women would be heard over the ambient noise level much easier than their male counterparts. Add to this situation the fact that the ambient noise around the supervisor’s cubicle is lower than around ours. So when we speak above the ambient noise, the people in the next cubicle have more trouble hearing us than our supervisor does. The sound bounces off the cubicle wall, to the ceiling and back down to the supervisor’s cubicle in the next aisle in the same way that AM radio bounces their signals off the atmosphere.
Then we acquired a decibel meter that would allow us to measure the amount of noise we are generating. According to Occupational Safety and Health Administration a normal office space speaking level would be 70 decibels at three meters. That means that if a person standing three meters away from me, for example, measures my voice at 70 decibels then I am speaking normally. Even in my own cubicle, my voice never reaches 60 decibels. Even when I sneezed it only jumped to 68 decibels. Which means that either my voice is being amplified somehow, which I doubt, or my supervisor is expecting us to be quieter than what the department of OSHA considers normal.
In a follow-up meeting, my supervisor stated that all non-work related conversations need to take place in the break room; fair enough. But he also stated that all work related conversations must take place in a meeting room. Since there is only two meeting rooms on the entire floor that is problematic; especially since there are no computers in the meeting room. About 50% of our job is support of co-workers and customers. Now when someone comes to my cubicle to discuss a problem, we have to schedule a meeting room in order to have our discussion. That is not a feasible way to conduct business. Also, we often schedule meetings in the break room for lack of facilities and according to my supervisor that is no longer allowed either.
Obviously, we have to do our jobs so basically we have to break the rules in order to do so. He has set down rules that create a situation that is impossible to work within, and we are held responsible for it. The question now is whether or not we should take this to the union, or personnel.
Monday, June 18, 2007
Saturday, March 17, 2007
Miellyn's story - written for Breed guild quest on 3k
How wild the lightning storm
For as long as I can remember, I have loved lightning storms. The ‘why’ of it never entered my mind. That in itself is strange because I am curious about everything. My great-grandfather would always take me outside in the lightning storms. Mam-ma would fuss, but he said it would not… no, it could not harm us. Great-grandfather was the only one who seemed to understand me. In his eyes I saw myself, and many were the times I heard his voice when he was not there.
We lived quietly, as quietly as four generations can, but still many came to us. Some sought healing, others knowledge. Grammy always provided the first, but was against providing the second. Instinctively I knew she was right. I was taught the healing skills very young because they came easily to me. I was schooled in the Knowledge because my memory never failed me. But it was not enough. There were too many unanswered questions, too many answers waiting to be found… out there. Out where the lightning storm sang to me. Mam-ma fussed and Grammy grumbled, but my parents just smiled proudly and prepared me for my life journey.
As time passed, folks grew suspicious of us. Why did we separate ourselves from them? Why wouldn’t we teach their children as we taught ours? What were we hiding from out there alone in the mountains? We spoke to them of peace, of responsibility, of caring, but those things do not have a place in the language of hate, and so they did not understand.
As things grew worse, the elders accepted the fact that our peaceful time had come to an end. They had little time before the hateful words became hateful actions. Unfortunately, it came sooner then was expected. There was no time to take everyone away, so those of my generation who trained in the knowledge were brought together, and through the united forces of all, Grammy, because great-grandfather had gone beyond, sent us out.
I was alone.
Where I was, I did not know. Who I was, I did not know! How did I get here? Now, looking back, I know that Grammy must have locked away the knowledge that was in me until I was ready to use it wisely. The healing skills I had. I took a name and settled on a quiet hillside. Folks came for healing, and I lived on their largess, the myriad of berry bushes around me, and the fish from the nearby stream.
I felt there was safety in seclusion, but I knew it was not right. After a while, I ventured below and met a man. I could not fully communicate with him. I did not feel his thoughts, but we made a home and in the normal course of time, I had a daughter.
With the birth of my daughter, it came back to me. I was Miellyn. I had the knowledge. My family, four generations! Where were they? Where were my cousins; had they fared well? I feared all was lost. It was a very difficult time for me. Until the first lightning storm… then I heard great-grandfather’s voice. I was not alone.
As they grew, I passed along the knowledge to my daughters. The youngest was a healer by nature. The oldest was never at peace with herself. I had to remind myself daily to instruct but not to seek to control. It was a never-ending battle within me.
One night the lightning called to me as it had as a child. I could no longer stay where I was. There were still unanswered questions, and I knew it was my job to answer them. And so I began my search. The search, though, was not done in the physical world. What I was looking for, longing for, was not of this world, but of a world beyond. A world from which We came to be, a world that was hidden away. I continued to live in the natural world, and raise my daughters, but during the lightning storms, I searched. I freed my mind and I searched.
My mental travels took me through a small, beautiful forested land where magic ruled, but there was great strife. Armies from four cities fought constantly for supremacy. Those that called themselves ‘gods’ watched and laughed, and offered no help to the good. No matter the effort, evil was winning in that land. The good among them asked me for help in their defenses. My mind told me not to interfere; my heart told me I could not walk away. I did what I could, but in the end it was not enough. They wanted more than defense from me. What they were asking from me was murder, and that I could not do. So I traveled on.
Next I found a huge land, full of endless wilderness. I wandered for what seemed like months between cities, and towns. Great castles stood on hilltops, monasteries were buried among the trees in secluded valleys, and great caverns spanned the entire land deep within. This land cried out for a healer. Many fought the dragons that invaded the human territories. Although, truth be known, it was really the humans that had invaded the Dragon territories, but that was not known to me until later. I settled there with a vow to do no harm. For many a day, I was content in my work, but soon the lightning called again. This was not the place. My search was not ended.
One day, in the course of my travels, I walked into the City of Pinnacle. At first the number of people in this great city overwhelmed me. There were too many minds too close together. With time, I learned to control my mind. There were many great quests and many lands to explore. I knew that what I sought was somewhere in this land. I joined a group of healer warriors, and found a home. During the course of a year, I explored and sought to no avail. How could I have been wrong? This was not the place.
For a time, I no longer searched. I was despondent, feeling alone again, as I had felt after the sending. As I allowed these negative feelings to fill me, I stepped off the path. Evil, under the disguise of self-preservation, took over my mind. When I again began to search, I was pulled back to that great land of wilderness, but this time, I did not make a home for myself and take an honest profession. I lived in the streets and the sewers, and joined league with many other thieves that plagued that land. That is when I learned that the humans did not belong there. One day as I helped many others bring down the oldest of dragons, He spoke to me in my mind. I was appalled! What had become of me? To what depths had I fallen? I fled, and hid myself away.
During all this time of mental searching, I worked to appear normal to those around me in the natural world. And yet my daughters could tell that I was not as I should be. It was my youngest, the one with the healer’s touch, that saved me, and my eldest, she of the troubled soul, that set me on my path once again. It was not only for myself, but also for them that I searched, for their future, and their heritage. I set out once again.
Back to where I had felt the greatest longing, back to where I was sure I would find the answers. And this time, I found it. The City of Light… surrounded by lightning, surrounded by chaos. Filled with others who like myself had searched and returned.
Now I shall strive to find the answers that I long for, and someday, to find the family that I lost.
Miellyn
For as long as I can remember, I have loved lightning storms. The ‘why’ of it never entered my mind. That in itself is strange because I am curious about everything. My great-grandfather would always take me outside in the lightning storms. Mam-ma would fuss, but he said it would not… no, it could not harm us. Great-grandfather was the only one who seemed to understand me. In his eyes I saw myself, and many were the times I heard his voice when he was not there.
We lived quietly, as quietly as four generations can, but still many came to us. Some sought healing, others knowledge. Grammy always provided the first, but was against providing the second. Instinctively I knew she was right. I was taught the healing skills very young because they came easily to me. I was schooled in the Knowledge because my memory never failed me. But it was not enough. There were too many unanswered questions, too many answers waiting to be found… out there. Out where the lightning storm sang to me. Mam-ma fussed and Grammy grumbled, but my parents just smiled proudly and prepared me for my life journey.
As time passed, folks grew suspicious of us. Why did we separate ourselves from them? Why wouldn’t we teach their children as we taught ours? What were we hiding from out there alone in the mountains? We spoke to them of peace, of responsibility, of caring, but those things do not have a place in the language of hate, and so they did not understand.
As things grew worse, the elders accepted the fact that our peaceful time had come to an end. They had little time before the hateful words became hateful actions. Unfortunately, it came sooner then was expected. There was no time to take everyone away, so those of my generation who trained in the knowledge were brought together, and through the united forces of all, Grammy, because great-grandfather had gone beyond, sent us out.
I was alone.
Where I was, I did not know. Who I was, I did not know! How did I get here? Now, looking back, I know that Grammy must have locked away the knowledge that was in me until I was ready to use it wisely. The healing skills I had. I took a name and settled on a quiet hillside. Folks came for healing, and I lived on their largess, the myriad of berry bushes around me, and the fish from the nearby stream.
I felt there was safety in seclusion, but I knew it was not right. After a while, I ventured below and met a man. I could not fully communicate with him. I did not feel his thoughts, but we made a home and in the normal course of time, I had a daughter.
With the birth of my daughter, it came back to me. I was Miellyn. I had the knowledge. My family, four generations! Where were they? Where were my cousins; had they fared well? I feared all was lost. It was a very difficult time for me. Until the first lightning storm… then I heard great-grandfather’s voice. I was not alone.
As they grew, I passed along the knowledge to my daughters. The youngest was a healer by nature. The oldest was never at peace with herself. I had to remind myself daily to instruct but not to seek to control. It was a never-ending battle within me.
One night the lightning called to me as it had as a child. I could no longer stay where I was. There were still unanswered questions, and I knew it was my job to answer them. And so I began my search. The search, though, was not done in the physical world. What I was looking for, longing for, was not of this world, but of a world beyond. A world from which We came to be, a world that was hidden away. I continued to live in the natural world, and raise my daughters, but during the lightning storms, I searched. I freed my mind and I searched.
My mental travels took me through a small, beautiful forested land where magic ruled, but there was great strife. Armies from four cities fought constantly for supremacy. Those that called themselves ‘gods’ watched and laughed, and offered no help to the good. No matter the effort, evil was winning in that land. The good among them asked me for help in their defenses. My mind told me not to interfere; my heart told me I could not walk away. I did what I could, but in the end it was not enough. They wanted more than defense from me. What they were asking from me was murder, and that I could not do. So I traveled on.
Next I found a huge land, full of endless wilderness. I wandered for what seemed like months between cities, and towns. Great castles stood on hilltops, monasteries were buried among the trees in secluded valleys, and great caverns spanned the entire land deep within. This land cried out for a healer. Many fought the dragons that invaded the human territories. Although, truth be known, it was really the humans that had invaded the Dragon territories, but that was not known to me until later. I settled there with a vow to do no harm. For many a day, I was content in my work, but soon the lightning called again. This was not the place. My search was not ended.
One day, in the course of my travels, I walked into the City of Pinnacle. At first the number of people in this great city overwhelmed me. There were too many minds too close together. With time, I learned to control my mind. There were many great quests and many lands to explore. I knew that what I sought was somewhere in this land. I joined a group of healer warriors, and found a home. During the course of a year, I explored and sought to no avail. How could I have been wrong? This was not the place.
For a time, I no longer searched. I was despondent, feeling alone again, as I had felt after the sending. As I allowed these negative feelings to fill me, I stepped off the path. Evil, under the disguise of self-preservation, took over my mind. When I again began to search, I was pulled back to that great land of wilderness, but this time, I did not make a home for myself and take an honest profession. I lived in the streets and the sewers, and joined league with many other thieves that plagued that land. That is when I learned that the humans did not belong there. One day as I helped many others bring down the oldest of dragons, He spoke to me in my mind. I was appalled! What had become of me? To what depths had I fallen? I fled, and hid myself away.
During all this time of mental searching, I worked to appear normal to those around me in the natural world. And yet my daughters could tell that I was not as I should be. It was my youngest, the one with the healer’s touch, that saved me, and my eldest, she of the troubled soul, that set me on my path once again. It was not only for myself, but also for them that I searched, for their future, and their heritage. I set out once again.
Back to where I had felt the greatest longing, back to where I was sure I would find the answers. And this time, I found it. The City of Light… surrounded by lightning, surrounded by chaos. Filled with others who like myself had searched and returned.
Now I shall strive to find the answers that I long for, and someday, to find the family that I lost.
Miellyn
Miellyn's History - written for the Breed guild on 3k
"In the beginning there was the Light.
Between the places where the Light was
and the places where the Light was not,
there flowed the lightning.
Made of pure energy but with direction
and somewhere, buried deep within,
the beginning of purpose.
The time came when others flowed with it,
sometimes in physical form,
sometimes just their thoughts...."
It was nothing more then a legend now, a myth, a story to
tell the children in the evening. When Great-Grandfather
told the story, it felt real, when I pass it on to my
children, it seems nothing more than a tale.
The Tempestas Clan has an old history, so old that most people
have forgotten. Even we don't know when we found the lightning.
The legend says that those that could follow the lightning
banded together and formed clan Tempestas. Our history is
filled with stories of many worlds for we have always been
travelers, and mentally we were always connected by the lightning.
The search for knowlege drove us, but there were some that used
the lightning in anger, aiding those that thirsted for power
and conquest. Most of our clan were peace-loving, as we are today.
After the Vow, the ability to travel was no longer taught to the
children.... but knowledge is too precious to lose. In each
generation those considered trustworthy enough to carry the secret
were trained. Great-Grandfather knew. He passed it to his
daughter... and to me.
Now, with great distances between us, I can only speak with those
of my clan that are left. But, when my children are grown and have
children of their own, it will be my turn to add to the histories.
I will travel the lightning once again in the tradition of our
clan, and find those that are left.
We will be Clan Tempestas once again.
Miellyn
Between the places where the Light was
and the places where the Light was not,
there flowed the lightning.
Made of pure energy but with direction
and somewhere, buried deep within,
the beginning of purpose.
The time came when others flowed with it,
sometimes in physical form,
sometimes just their thoughts...."
It was nothing more then a legend now, a myth, a story to
tell the children in the evening. When Great-Grandfather
told the story, it felt real, when I pass it on to my
children, it seems nothing more than a tale.
The Tempestas Clan has an old history, so old that most people
have forgotten. Even we don't know when we found the lightning.
The legend says that those that could follow the lightning
banded together and formed clan Tempestas. Our history is
filled with stories of many worlds for we have always been
travelers, and mentally we were always connected by the lightning.
The search for knowlege drove us, but there were some that used
the lightning in anger, aiding those that thirsted for power
and conquest. Most of our clan were peace-loving, as we are today.
After the Vow, the ability to travel was no longer taught to the
children.... but knowledge is too precious to lose. In each
generation those considered trustworthy enough to carry the secret
were trained. Great-Grandfather knew. He passed it to his
daughter... and to me.
Now, with great distances between us, I can only speak with those
of my clan that are left. But, when my children are grown and have
children of their own, it will be my turn to add to the histories.
I will travel the lightning once again in the tradition of our
clan, and find those that are left.
We will be Clan Tempestas once again.
Miellyn
The Black Velvet Box - longer version
Ecstatic about finally being out of the house after a long winter, Sallie pulled me along in her wake. As we navigated the winding sidewalk, I concentrated on avoiding the patches of ice while she concentrated on finding some piece of ground that wasn't covered by snow. Snow from the latest storm seemed to cover the entire town. Just yesterday they had cancelled school, and everyone was forced to stay indoors.
The wind picked up as we neared the edge of town. The old cemetery looked eerie this evening; the trees reaching out with their leafless branches, the wind giving the appearance that they would scoop us right up. The elaborate grave markers with their chiseled memories cast shadows over the icy path. One grave always drew me. My great-grandmother’s grave had a simple headstone, but someone had planted rose bushes around it. In the spring they would be full of flowers, but now they slept just as soundly as the grave they adorned. Brushing the snow off the headstone, I cleared the writing: Sallie Marie Foster, 1921-1937.
My great-grandmother’s namesake began digging ferociously among the rose bushes. I managed to pull her back, but she just sat down and stared intently at her work. Seeing as she wouldn't budge, I squatted down and to my surprise found a small black velvet box among the uncovered roots. The box was very old and covered with dirt; it had obviously been in the ground a very long time. Why my dog happened to be the one to unearth it can only be called fate.
Inside the box was a simple gold wedding band, still bright with hope, and covering it, a folded piece of very old crumbling paper. Although the day had warmed up enough for a nice brisk walk, it wasn't warm enough to stand around in the wind, so I pocketed Sallie's find, and headed home.
Later sitting in my favorite chair by a warm fire with a full belly and a nice snifter of brandy, I unfolded the letter and read,
My dearest love,
By now you know what my answer must be. Father won’t hear of our marrying. He’s determined to sell me off to old Foster. I will not be wife to a man who is forty years my senior! If it was not for the heart that beats below mine, I would take my life. Should I tell him, would that change his mind? I think not. Please know that my heart will always belong to you.
Sallie
My mind reeled! I felt as if I’d been hit by lightening; my entire world shattered in a moment. I thought of my family Bible sitting on display in the town hall. I had to check the handwriting. There was to be no sleep for me that night as I wondered who my real great-grandfather might be. Did others know? I’d always known that she’d died giving birth, but I never heard that the baby had been premature.
The minute the town hall opened its doors to the public, I was there. As usual there were neighbors to be greeted, the weather to be discussed. Mrs. Matthews had twins again. Desperately I waited until there was no one near the pedestal. Although obviously shaken with emotion, the writing was definitely hers.
I must have been wandering aimlessly because I found myself at the edge of town again. Now her grave looked different to me. A young woman, no more than a child really, who had lived only long enough to give life to another. As I stood there, old Mr. Penniford approached slowly. This was a favorite haunting ground, so to speak, of his also. We often met up here, discussing everything and anything. He’d always been around, known to everyone in town, and a favorite dinner guest of my father’s. The town had recently celebrated Mr. Penniford’s 88th birthday.
When he saw the open note in my hand, his eyes met mine briefly before returning to my great-grandmother’s headstone.
“It surfaced, did it?” he asked.
“Yesterday, Sallie found it. My dog, I mean”, I muttered lost in thought. Suddenly the pieces fell into place, “Are you…”
“Yes, Foster, my boy, I am”, he said sadly. “Had I been a stronger man, she might still be alive. She left her heart in my keeping. I have cared for it ever since.”
Mr. Penniford had been a part of my life for as long as I could remember. He taught me to ride a bicycle, stopped by to watch my ballgames. I had assumed he did that for everyone, the town grandpa, but now I knew he was doing what he’d been asked to do.
For a few minutes longer, we stood sharing the peace and quiet, and then my great-grandfather and I walked back into town together.
The wind picked up as we neared the edge of town. The old cemetery looked eerie this evening; the trees reaching out with their leafless branches, the wind giving the appearance that they would scoop us right up. The elaborate grave markers with their chiseled memories cast shadows over the icy path. One grave always drew me. My great-grandmother’s grave had a simple headstone, but someone had planted rose bushes around it. In the spring they would be full of flowers, but now they slept just as soundly as the grave they adorned. Brushing the snow off the headstone, I cleared the writing: Sallie Marie Foster, 1921-1937.
My great-grandmother’s namesake began digging ferociously among the rose bushes. I managed to pull her back, but she just sat down and stared intently at her work. Seeing as she wouldn't budge, I squatted down and to my surprise found a small black velvet box among the uncovered roots. The box was very old and covered with dirt; it had obviously been in the ground a very long time. Why my dog happened to be the one to unearth it can only be called fate.
Inside the box was a simple gold wedding band, still bright with hope, and covering it, a folded piece of very old crumbling paper. Although the day had warmed up enough for a nice brisk walk, it wasn't warm enough to stand around in the wind, so I pocketed Sallie's find, and headed home.
Later sitting in my favorite chair by a warm fire with a full belly and a nice snifter of brandy, I unfolded the letter and read,
My dearest love,
By now you know what my answer must be. Father won’t hear of our marrying. He’s determined to sell me off to old Foster. I will not be wife to a man who is forty years my senior! If it was not for the heart that beats below mine, I would take my life. Should I tell him, would that change his mind? I think not. Please know that my heart will always belong to you.
Sallie
My mind reeled! I felt as if I’d been hit by lightening; my entire world shattered in a moment. I thought of my family Bible sitting on display in the town hall. I had to check the handwriting. There was to be no sleep for me that night as I wondered who my real great-grandfather might be. Did others know? I’d always known that she’d died giving birth, but I never heard that the baby had been premature.
The minute the town hall opened its doors to the public, I was there. As usual there were neighbors to be greeted, the weather to be discussed. Mrs. Matthews had twins again. Desperately I waited until there was no one near the pedestal. Although obviously shaken with emotion, the writing was definitely hers.
I must have been wandering aimlessly because I found myself at the edge of town again. Now her grave looked different to me. A young woman, no more than a child really, who had lived only long enough to give life to another. As I stood there, old Mr. Penniford approached slowly. This was a favorite haunting ground, so to speak, of his also. We often met up here, discussing everything and anything. He’d always been around, known to everyone in town, and a favorite dinner guest of my father’s. The town had recently celebrated Mr. Penniford’s 88th birthday.
When he saw the open note in my hand, his eyes met mine briefly before returning to my great-grandmother’s headstone.
“It surfaced, did it?” he asked.
“Yesterday, Sallie found it. My dog, I mean”, I muttered lost in thought. Suddenly the pieces fell into place, “Are you…”
“Yes, Foster, my boy, I am”, he said sadly. “Had I been a stronger man, she might still be alive. She left her heart in my keeping. I have cared for it ever since.”
Mr. Penniford had been a part of my life for as long as I could remember. He taught me to ride a bicycle, stopped by to watch my ballgames. I had assumed he did that for everyone, the town grandpa, but now I knew he was doing what he’d been asked to do.
For a few minutes longer, we stood sharing the peace and quiet, and then my great-grandfather and I walked back into town together.
Monday, March 5, 2007
The Black Velvet Box
This is the first short story I've written from a "prompt".
Here's the prompt from WritersDigest.com:
"The temperature outside is finally above freezing and winter's snow is beginning to melt, revealing a season's worth of lost things. Disregarding hats and mittens, a man walking his dog becomes intrigued with a black velvet box. He opens it and is shocked to discover its contents. What's inside the box and how did it get there?"
And here's my story:
Finally out after a long winter, Sallie pulled me along in her wake. I concentrated on staying upright while she concentrated on finding some piece of ground that wasn't covered by ice and snow.
The old cemetery looked eerie in the winter; the trees reaching out with their leafless branches; the elaborate grave markers with their chiseled memories. One grave always drew me. My great-grandmother’s grave had a simple headstone, but someone had planted rose bushes around it; now they slept just as soundly as the grave they adorned.
Sallie began digging ferociously among the rose bushes, I managed to pull her back, but then she sat down and stared her work. Seeing as she wouldn't budge, I squatted down and to my surprise found a small black velvet box covered with dirt. The box was very old; it was obviously in the ground a long time. Why my dog happened to be the one to dig it up can only be called fate.
Inside the box was a simple gold wedding band, still bright with hope, and covering it, a folded piece of paper. Although the day had warmed up enough for a nice brisk walk, it wasn't warm enough to stand around in the wind, so I pocketed Sallie's find, and headed home.
Later sitting by my fire with a nice snifter of brandy, I unfolded the letter and read,
My love,
By now you know what my answer must be. My father won’t hear of our marrying; he’s determined to sell me off to old Foster. I will not be wife to a man who is forty years my senior! If it was not for the heart that beats below mine, I would take my life. Should I tell him, would that change his mind? I think not. Please know that my heart will always belong to you.
Sallie
My mind reeled! My family Bible sat on a display in the town hall. I had to check the handwriting. There was no sleep for me that night as I wondered who my real great-grandfather might be. Did others guess the truth? I’d always known that she’d died giving birth, but was the baby premature?
The minute the town hall opened its doors to the public, I was there. Desperately I waited until there was no one near the pedestal. Although obviously shaken with emotion, the writing was definitely hers.
I must have been wandering aimlessly because I found myself at the edge of town again. Now her grave looked different to me. A young woman, no more than a child really, who had lived only long enough to give life to another. As I stood there, old Mr. Penniford approached slowly. This was a favorite haunting ground, so to speak, of his also. We often met up here, discussing everything and anything. He’d always been around the town, and was a favorite dinner guest of my father’s.
When he saw the open note in my hand, his eyes met mine.
“It surfaced, did it?” he asked.
“Yesterday, Sallie found it. My dog, I mean”, I muttered lost in thought. Suddenly I realized, “Are you…”.
“Yes, Foster, my boy, I am”, he said sadly. “Had I been a stronger man, she might still be alive. She left her heart in my keeping. I’ve cared for it ever since.”
I watched as my great-grandfather walked away.
Here's the prompt from WritersDigest.com:
"The temperature outside is finally above freezing and winter's snow is beginning to melt, revealing a season's worth of lost things. Disregarding hats and mittens, a man walking his dog becomes intrigued with a black velvet box. He opens it and is shocked to discover its contents. What's inside the box and how did it get there?"
And here's my story:
Finally out after a long winter, Sallie pulled me along in her wake. I concentrated on staying upright while she concentrated on finding some piece of ground that wasn't covered by ice and snow.
The old cemetery looked eerie in the winter; the trees reaching out with their leafless branches; the elaborate grave markers with their chiseled memories. One grave always drew me. My great-grandmother’s grave had a simple headstone, but someone had planted rose bushes around it; now they slept just as soundly as the grave they adorned.
Sallie began digging ferociously among the rose bushes, I managed to pull her back, but then she sat down and stared her work. Seeing as she wouldn't budge, I squatted down and to my surprise found a small black velvet box covered with dirt. The box was very old; it was obviously in the ground a long time. Why my dog happened to be the one to dig it up can only be called fate.
Inside the box was a simple gold wedding band, still bright with hope, and covering it, a folded piece of paper. Although the day had warmed up enough for a nice brisk walk, it wasn't warm enough to stand around in the wind, so I pocketed Sallie's find, and headed home.
Later sitting by my fire with a nice snifter of brandy, I unfolded the letter and read,
By now you know what my answer must be. My father won’t hear of our marrying; he’s determined to sell me off to old Foster. I will not be wife to a man who is forty years my senior! If it was not for the heart that beats below mine, I would take my life. Should I tell him, would that change his mind? I think not. Please know that my heart will always belong to you.
Sallie
My mind reeled! My family Bible sat on a display in the town hall. I had to check the handwriting. There was no sleep for me that night as I wondered who my real great-grandfather might be. Did others guess the truth? I’d always known that she’d died giving birth, but was the baby premature?
The minute the town hall opened its doors to the public, I was there. Desperately I waited until there was no one near the pedestal. Although obviously shaken with emotion, the writing was definitely hers.
I must have been wandering aimlessly because I found myself at the edge of town again. Now her grave looked different to me. A young woman, no more than a child really, who had lived only long enough to give life to another. As I stood there, old Mr. Penniford approached slowly. This was a favorite haunting ground, so to speak, of his also. We often met up here, discussing everything and anything. He’d always been around the town, and was a favorite dinner guest of my father’s.
When he saw the open note in my hand, his eyes met mine.
“It surfaced, did it?” he asked.
“Yesterday, Sallie found it. My dog, I mean”, I muttered lost in thought. Suddenly I realized, “Are you…”.
“Yes, Foster, my boy, I am”, he said sadly. “Had I been a stronger man, she might still be alive. She left her heart in my keeping. I’ve cared for it ever since.”
I watched as my great-grandfather walked away.
Sunday, February 18, 2007
Creative Visualization and Meditation
I first heard about Creative Visualization when I was considering taking a job as a manager. It was on my goal list to reach by the time I was 30. I thought I was a bit young for it, but the opportunity was there and I really wanted to take that next step.
As usual, I had to search around for books to help me. Along with all the books about actually being a manager, I ran across a comment about Creative Visualization. I bought a book, read it and sat down to put it in practice. That was in 1988. I’ve been using it ever since.
Whenever there’s anything happening that requires a decision (of course after doing all the proper things to determine the correct course) I will stop and picture myself doing the various options and even more importantly picture myself after I’ve done them. Expecially at work, I will picture myself in a meeting explaining why we did things that way. Will I be embarrassed if it fails? As I explain it do I feel like I did enough leg work ahead of time to reach the optimal solution?
It also has the benefit of reducing stress because basically I am putting myself in a “meditative” state. If you do it after you have filled your brain with all the facts, even if you don’t consciously remember them all, then it can be similar to dreaming in that your brain pops up with ideas seemingly out of nowhere.
True meditation is different from creative visualization in that you are supposed to clear your mind of all thoughts. I took a Zen class on Barnes and Noble University about three years ago. As a result of that class, I started meditating daily. At first my daughter was accompanying me, but after a while she moved on to other things. So now I meditate before I go to bed every night. It helps me sleep much better.
When my daughter and I were meditating together, we cleared a spot in the living room and sat on cushions facing a wall that is covered in a natural light oak. It helped to have our backs to the rest of the livingroom, with all it’s furniture, TV etc. And the light through the west facing window made interesting patterns on the wall. The dogs were quite interested on this new activity. At first they walked around us and sniffed us, the cushions, the wall, everything. Soon they were sitting with us facing the wall also. It was very comforting to have them there. I guess since I’m the alpha dog, they felt they had to do the same. During the meditation I kept getting an the urge to pant along with them. :)
The first five minutes were fine, but after that it was torture was the first few days. After a while you get used to it and do not even sense the passing of time. I had to set the timer on the microwave to make sure we didn’t stay too long (homework had to be done!). Now I don’t worry about it because my internal clock takes care of it, and the meditation is almost as good as sleep anyway.
As usual, I had to search around for books to help me. Along with all the books about actually being a manager, I ran across a comment about Creative Visualization. I bought a book, read it and sat down to put it in practice. That was in 1988. I’ve been using it ever since.
Whenever there’s anything happening that requires a decision (of course after doing all the proper things to determine the correct course) I will stop and picture myself doing the various options and even more importantly picture myself after I’ve done them. Expecially at work, I will picture myself in a meeting explaining why we did things that way. Will I be embarrassed if it fails? As I explain it do I feel like I did enough leg work ahead of time to reach the optimal solution?
It also has the benefit of reducing stress because basically I am putting myself in a “meditative” state. If you do it after you have filled your brain with all the facts, even if you don’t consciously remember them all, then it can be similar to dreaming in that your brain pops up with ideas seemingly out of nowhere.
True meditation is different from creative visualization in that you are supposed to clear your mind of all thoughts. I took a Zen class on Barnes and Noble University about three years ago. As a result of that class, I started meditating daily. At first my daughter was accompanying me, but after a while she moved on to other things. So now I meditate before I go to bed every night. It helps me sleep much better.
When my daughter and I were meditating together, we cleared a spot in the living room and sat on cushions facing a wall that is covered in a natural light oak. It helped to have our backs to the rest of the livingroom, with all it’s furniture, TV etc. And the light through the west facing window made interesting patterns on the wall. The dogs were quite interested on this new activity. At first they walked around us and sniffed us, the cushions, the wall, everything. Soon they were sitting with us facing the wall also. It was very comforting to have them there. I guess since I’m the alpha dog, they felt they had to do the same. During the meditation I kept getting an the urge to pant along with them. :)
The first five minutes were fine, but after that it was torture was the first few days. After a while you get used to it and do not even sense the passing of time. I had to set the timer on the microwave to make sure we didn’t stay too long (homework had to be done!). Now I don’t worry about it because my internal clock takes care of it, and the meditation is almost as good as sleep anyway.
Losing weight on a budget
On December 29th I went back on my diet in an attempt to lose those holiday pounds (and a few others I managed to acquire over the last few hurricanes). My diet of choice is WeightWatchers. In the past I've tried Atkins, which works great in the short-term (as long as you follow all the rules of the diet, not just the food rules), but in the long run you aren't changing your eating habits in a postive manner, so the weight comes right back on.
With Weightwatchers you’ll basically be on a food budget. You get a certain numbers of “points” for the day plus there’s a bank of points that you can take from for the week. So, for example, I get 22 points a day, and there are 35 points that I could use during the week (additional to the 22 a day). If you use them all, you will maintain your weight but not lose any most probably.
The number of points you get a day is determined by your start weight. The points drop as you lose weight. The idea being that your stomach slowly shrinks and you are less hungry.
The food is not limited in any way other than staying on the diet. There are Community meetings, at-work meetings (if you want to organize one), and there’s the web-page which is what I am using now. I have been an at-work member twice in the past. It does work. After each of my kids I followed the diet and lost the baby weight. In the last few years I slowly gained a pound here and a pound there mostly during the six hurricanes that came through. It’s difficult to pick wisely when all you have are canned foods and peanut butter sandwiches.
You can eat healthy and not be hungry as long as you don’t mind salads and veggies. There are many “free” veggies; vegetables that count as 0 points. So you can have a salad with a low calorie dressing (watch out for trans fat!) say 2 points (unlimited lettuce, tomato, cucumber, mushroom, sprouts for example; but not unlimited dressing). Then have two or three veggies with a 4 ounce piece (4 points for chicken or pork, 2 points for fish) of meat and 1/2 cup of pasta (2 points) with non-meat tomato sauce(also free).
That’s a large dinner and only 8 points (or 6 if you have fish). They also have frozen weightwatchers meals that are 4 to 6 points. Those are good for lunch when there’s a time crunch.
If you want 2 points for chocolate everyday, then you can do that. I do!
I like the webpage because I get to log everything online and they have a great database to search for point values, as well as, a large forum for communicating with other folks that are on the plan. But I would suggest, for the first 12 weeks at least, join a group so you get all the materials and hear the lectures once through. After that the webpage is enough, in my opinion.
In the last seven weeks I've lost 11.5 pounds. Not quite the best weight loss in the world, but adequate. I found out this weekend that I failed to re-take the "point allotment" test, so that explains why my weight loss slowed down after I reached 150 pounds. Now I'm allowed 19 points instead of 22. Next Friday we'll see if there's an improvement.
With Weightwatchers you’ll basically be on a food budget. You get a certain numbers of “points” for the day plus there’s a bank of points that you can take from for the week. So, for example, I get 22 points a day, and there are 35 points that I could use during the week (additional to the 22 a day). If you use them all, you will maintain your weight but not lose any most probably.
The number of points you get a day is determined by your start weight. The points drop as you lose weight. The idea being that your stomach slowly shrinks and you are less hungry.
The food is not limited in any way other than staying on the diet. There are Community meetings, at-work meetings (if you want to organize one), and there’s the web-page which is what I am using now. I have been an at-work member twice in the past. It does work. After each of my kids I followed the diet and lost the baby weight. In the last few years I slowly gained a pound here and a pound there mostly during the six hurricanes that came through. It’s difficult to pick wisely when all you have are canned foods and peanut butter sandwiches.
You can eat healthy and not be hungry as long as you don’t mind salads and veggies. There are many “free” veggies; vegetables that count as 0 points. So you can have a salad with a low calorie dressing (watch out for trans fat!) say 2 points (unlimited lettuce, tomato, cucumber, mushroom, sprouts for example; but not unlimited dressing). Then have two or three veggies with a 4 ounce piece (4 points for chicken or pork, 2 points for fish) of meat and 1/2 cup of pasta (2 points) with non-meat tomato sauce(also free).
That’s a large dinner and only 8 points (or 6 if you have fish). They also have frozen weightwatchers meals that are 4 to 6 points. Those are good for lunch when there’s a time crunch.
If you want 2 points for chocolate everyday, then you can do that. I do!
I like the webpage because I get to log everything online and they have a great database to search for point values, as well as, a large forum for communicating with other folks that are on the plan. But I would suggest, for the first 12 weeks at least, join a group so you get all the materials and hear the lectures once through. After that the webpage is enough, in my opinion.
In the last seven weeks I've lost 11.5 pounds. Not quite the best weight loss in the world, but adequate. I found out this weekend that I failed to re-take the "point allotment" test, so that explains why my weight loss slowed down after I reached 150 pounds. Now I'm allowed 19 points instead of 22. Next Friday we'll see if there's an improvement.
Thursday, February 15, 2007
On-call
I'll say one positive thing about being on-call... it prepares you for taking care of infants! But seriously, changing diapers, feeding and comforting infants in your sleep is a snap after getting up to fix computer problems. And babies are more fun to cuddle than a keyboard!
I was handed a beeper at the ripe 'ole age of 20 when I could still stay up all night without feeling it. So I developed survival skills. For example, I learned to write all documentation so that I could follow it almost literally with my eyes closed. I also set-up tons of little scripts that monitor everything I could think of so that I would be notified by my servers when they were close to failing, instead of by a human. That improved my on-call experience a great deal. And I can fall asleep (and have done so) in the middle of an outage, and wake up again to continue when necessary.
I was on a one year contract job in Albuquerque NM back "in the day". The computers were UNIVAC 1108s and the applications were from BellLabs for premise and facilities data. Bell customer service used the systems to create service tickets and to resolve problems. Bell had done a study and concluded that they lost $100,000.00 in revenue for every hour they were down. Right now I would find that incredibly stressful. At 23 it didn't phase me. I did my best to resolve the problem as soon as possible and that was it.
One morning at the 7:45am turn-over meeting (that frustrates me!), the third shift operators announced that there had been a disk crash during the night, the recovery procedure had been followed and all was well. I was very impressed with the guy because he'd followed the documentation all by himself for the first time. So after the meeting I went over and shook his hand and expressed by great exuberance that he's done it without calling me. He informed me that I was nuts (well I already knew that part); that I'd been on the phone with him the entire time, helping him through the procedure!
I had noticed that I woke up with a hole in my sock that wasn't there when I went to sleep, but I didn't put two and two together at that time. Apparently (and my ex backed him up on this), they called. I stood in the kitchen and helped them for over an hour. During which time my puppy chewed a hole in my sock while I was wearing it. Then I went back to sleep and pushed the whole experience into the category of a dream.
To me oncall problems are like video games that I get paid for playing. If I didn't enjoy fixing those problems so much, I'd be really frustrated too!
I was handed a beeper at the ripe 'ole age of 20 when I could still stay up all night without feeling it. So I developed survival skills. For example, I learned to write all documentation so that I could follow it almost literally with my eyes closed. I also set-up tons of little scripts that monitor everything I could think of so that I would be notified by my servers when they were close to failing, instead of by a human. That improved my on-call experience a great deal. And I can fall asleep (and have done so) in the middle of an outage, and wake up again to continue when necessary.
I was on a one year contract job in Albuquerque NM back "in the day". The computers were UNIVAC 1108s and the applications were from BellLabs for premise and facilities data. Bell customer service used the systems to create service tickets and to resolve problems. Bell had done a study and concluded that they lost $100,000.00 in revenue for every hour they were down. Right now I would find that incredibly stressful. At 23 it didn't phase me. I did my best to resolve the problem as soon as possible and that was it.
One morning at the 7:45am turn-over meeting (that frustrates me!), the third shift operators announced that there had been a disk crash during the night, the recovery procedure had been followed and all was well. I was very impressed with the guy because he'd followed the documentation all by himself for the first time. So after the meeting I went over and shook his hand and expressed by great exuberance that he's done it without calling me. He informed me that I was nuts (well I already knew that part); that I'd been on the phone with him the entire time, helping him through the procedure!
I had noticed that I woke up with a hole in my sock that wasn't there when I went to sleep, but I didn't put two and two together at that time. Apparently (and my ex backed him up on this), they called. I stood in the kitchen and helped them for over an hour. During which time my puppy chewed a hole in my sock while I was wearing it. Then I went back to sleep and pushed the whole experience into the category of a dream.
To me oncall problems are like video games that I get paid for playing. If I didn't enjoy fixing those problems so much, I'd be really frustrated too!
"Pride and Prejudice" by Jane Austen
I enjoyed “Pride and Prejudice” by Jane Austen a great deal more than “Sense and Sensibility”.
Elizabeth’s sense of humor made her a much more interesting heroine in my opinion. She and her father seemed to enjoy a love for the absurd, although her mother’s behavior did embarrass her. Other than that there are many parallels among the characters in the story: Elizabeth and Elinor, Lydia and Marianne, Jane and Mrs. Dashwood, Wickham and Willoughby.
It still bothers me that all the women think about is finding a husband, that an “accomplished” woman “sang and played all day”, but I have to assume that was the world Jane herself was exposed to at the time.
You know that with a family that size and all those dinner parties, there had to be some people working very hard in that household, but they are barely ever mentioned and then only in brief passing and only in their concern for the family.
Fifty years after these novels were published, we see books such as “Little Women” by Louisa May Alcott depicting an American family. In this book the characters are much less one sided. Although some of the girls were still thinking primarily of finding husbands, they had to pitch in and help make the world around them.
Another fifty years later, “Anne of Green Gables” by L. M. Montgomery describes a young Canadian woman from a very different set of cicumstances who puts the romantic side of life into perspective.
Both Jo and Anne are charcters that I would encourage young girls to meet early in life. The Austen women in the books I’ve read so far, although they may be a study of women from a certain subsection of society in England at the time the novels are written, are not ones I’d place before my daughters.
Elizabeth’s sense of humor made her a much more interesting heroine in my opinion. She and her father seemed to enjoy a love for the absurd, although her mother’s behavior did embarrass her. Other than that there are many parallels among the characters in the story: Elizabeth and Elinor, Lydia and Marianne, Jane and Mrs. Dashwood, Wickham and Willoughby.
It still bothers me that all the women think about is finding a husband, that an “accomplished” woman “sang and played all day”, but I have to assume that was the world Jane herself was exposed to at the time.
You know that with a family that size and all those dinner parties, there had to be some people working very hard in that household, but they are barely ever mentioned and then only in brief passing and only in their concern for the family.
Fifty years after these novels were published, we see books such as “Little Women” by Louisa May Alcott depicting an American family. In this book the characters are much less one sided. Although some of the girls were still thinking primarily of finding husbands, they had to pitch in and help make the world around them.
Another fifty years later, “Anne of Green Gables” by L. M. Montgomery describes a young Canadian woman from a very different set of cicumstances who puts the romantic side of life into perspective.
Both Jo and Anne are charcters that I would encourage young girls to meet early in life. The Austen women in the books I’ve read so far, although they may be a study of women from a certain subsection of society in England at the time the novels are written, are not ones I’d place before my daughters.
Waiting for Harry Potter 7
A couple of years ago during a night in June, I sat in Barnes and Noble waiting for midnight. No it wasn't New Year's Eve, it was the release of Harry Potter 6. A friend of mine accompanied me out of curiosity, expecting to be entertained by the people in costume, and he was not disappointed.
As an aside, coincidentally I had been on vacation those two weeks prior to the release of the book. I'd spent a great deal of that time on Barnes and Noble University's Harry Potter bookclub discussing the prior five books with people all over the world. The discussion was lively and in some instances confrontational! Who would have thought adults would get so heated over a discussion of Harry Potter. The response to that book club had been so monumental that the one bookclub session had to be extended to five! Two were added immediately and the other two were added when the book was released. Later on the bookclub was extended for three more months before it was retired completely. (It is back on now of course! BN online bookclubs .)
Back at B&N, at one point as we sat sipping our lattes in the cafe and we noticed an odd man approaching us. He wore pajama bottoms, a white ribby wife-beater and he had a cape around his shoulders with a bandana tied around his head. The guy looked scruffy and a bit scary. As we looked for the best escape route, the creature said our names. In astonishment we found that he was a co-worker in costume. He'd brought his family for the big event and decided to go all out a la World Quidditch Cup in Goblet of Fire. He'd done an excellent job!
Holding my ticket I waited patiently for the book. The fact that I'd already paid for overnight delivery on two copies from Amazon didn't matter in the least! The fact that my two daughters were at that very moment waiting in another bookstore up by their grandmother's house in Punta Gorda where they were visiting, for their copies made no difference.
Later that morning I fell asleep having read about half the book, and I finished the rest by noon the next day. Then after getting some more sleep, I went back on the Barnes and Nobles online University HP bookclub and chatting away with other folks all over the US that had read the book.
It was a great experience! If this year's is half as good, I'll be happy.
As an aside, coincidentally I had been on vacation those two weeks prior to the release of the book. I'd spent a great deal of that time on Barnes and Noble University's Harry Potter bookclub discussing the prior five books with people all over the world. The discussion was lively and in some instances confrontational! Who would have thought adults would get so heated over a discussion of Harry Potter. The response to that book club had been so monumental that the one bookclub session had to be extended to five! Two were added immediately and the other two were added when the book was released. Later on the bookclub was extended for three more months before it was retired completely. (It is back on now of course! BN online bookclubs .)
Back at B&N, at one point as we sat sipping our lattes in the cafe and we noticed an odd man approaching us. He wore pajama bottoms, a white ribby wife-beater and he had a cape around his shoulders with a bandana tied around his head. The guy looked scruffy and a bit scary. As we looked for the best escape route, the creature said our names. In astonishment we found that he was a co-worker in costume. He'd brought his family for the big event and decided to go all out a la World Quidditch Cup in Goblet of Fire. He'd done an excellent job!
Holding my ticket I waited patiently for the book. The fact that I'd already paid for overnight delivery on two copies from Amazon didn't matter in the least! The fact that my two daughters were at that very moment waiting in another bookstore up by their grandmother's house in Punta Gorda where they were visiting, for their copies made no difference.
Later that morning I fell asleep having read about half the book, and I finished the rest by noon the next day. Then after getting some more sleep, I went back on the Barnes and Nobles online University HP bookclub and chatting away with other folks all over the US that had read the book.
It was a great experience! If this year's is half as good, I'll be happy.
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
Finally moving along...
I’m working my way through “No Plot? No Problem?” by Chris Baty. The general message in this book seems to be that you don’t need to do any planning in order to write the 50,000 word rough draft of your novel. That it’s actually better not to. I know this approach doesn’t work for me, although I admit it could work very well for a more spontaneous, right-brain person.
The rest of the book is full of tips to get your through your one month typing spree.
Afterwards, I’ve found another book that looks like exactly what I need. "First Draft In 30 Days: A Novel Writer’s System for Building a Complete and Cohesive Manuscript" by Karen Wiesner. It contains a very exact plan to get from idea to detailed outline. She says the outline will be so detailed that it could be considered a first draft. This will be my next book for this goal.
Here’s a general timeline of her approach:
Days 1-6: Preliminary outlines and sketches
Days 7-13: Research
Days 14-15: Story evolution (ideas for beginning, middle, end)
Days 16-24: Formatted outline
Days 25-28: Evaluating the strength of theoutline
Days 29-30: Revising outline – and on Day 30, you’re to put this outline “on a shelf for at least two weeks to several months.”
In the meantime, I’m also reading through the lessons on http://hollylisle.com/. The one on mapping your “world” is very interesting. I think it will help me considerably to spend time doing that when I hit a wall on the outlining.
Interestingly I’ve noticed my daughter always takes time to download or draw pictures of the characters in her story, and she’s written more stories than I have.
Last but not least on Storyright.com , I’ve fleshed out the first chapter of one of my ideas. And I’ve briefly described chapters two and three. I’ve also begun to define the main characters in a fairly detailed manner. There’s still a lot of work to do, but I’m moving forward.
This is the furthest I’ve ever gotten!
The rest of the book is full of tips to get your through your one month typing spree.
Afterwards, I’ve found another book that looks like exactly what I need. "First Draft In 30 Days: A Novel Writer’s System for Building a Complete and Cohesive Manuscript" by Karen Wiesner. It contains a very exact plan to get from idea to detailed outline. She says the outline will be so detailed that it could be considered a first draft. This will be my next book for this goal.
Here’s a general timeline of her approach:
Days 1-6: Preliminary outlines and sketches
Days 7-13: Research
Days 14-15: Story evolution (ideas for beginning, middle, end)
Days 16-24: Formatted outline
Days 25-28: Evaluating the strength of theoutline
Days 29-30: Revising outline – and on Day 30, you’re to put this outline “on a shelf for at least two weeks to several months.”
In the meantime, I’m also reading through the lessons on http://hollylisle.com/. The one on mapping your “world” is very interesting. I think it will help me considerably to spend time doing that when I hit a wall on the outlining.
Interestingly I’ve noticed my daughter always takes time to download or draw pictures of the characters in her story, and she’s written more stories than I have.
Last but not least on Storyright.com , I’ve fleshed out the first chapter of one of my ideas. And I’ve briefly described chapters two and three. I’ve also begun to define the main characters in a fairly detailed manner. There’s still a lot of work to do, but I’m moving forward.
This is the furthest I’ve ever gotten!
Sunday, February 11, 2007
Solipsism
This wonderful word was brought to my attention by a poster on www.43things.com ( Gary ). He posts a lot of interesting things on science and language, among other things.
For some unexplained reason, this word struck my fancy and I, as usual, went off on a writing spree.
According to Solipsism on Wikipedia, "Solipsism is the philosophical idea that "I am the only mind that exists" ... that knowledge of anything outside the mind is unjustified. The external world and other minds cannot be known and may not exist."
From observing my children and others, I found that toddlers seem to believe the world around them sprang into existence when they became conscious, but as they grow older and reach the wonderful age of about three, their minds open to the fact that there is more out there.
That’s usually when fear enters a child’s life.
I have met some people that seem to keep that "innocence"; that live without thought of others and without fear. Yet they are outraged when anything happens that isn’t of their doing because in their "world-view" nothing can happen unless they make it happen. They appear incapable of looking ahead at all the possible outcomes because they limit "the world" to what exists inside their minds and in their experience.
Is it better or worse to be a solipsist?
A solipsist
exists
in a world of their making.
No worries have they
to plans gone astray.
But let the outside intrude
as it inevitably would
and the solipsist
insists
on the blame, abnegating.
(c) Maria Aleman 2007
I think that Jung’s collective unconscious is a variation on this. In this case, all the minds that agree on a particular “world-view” are creating it. In a way, they/we are, if you consider the “spread of culture” through the exchange of art, writings, music, philosophy, etc.
There is also the “create your day” idea of “What the Bleep do we know?” and the "The Secret”.
So are we all walking around within a bubble of personal reality? So that when two bubbles intersect, they either meld or they don’t? Does our acceptance or rejection of another person have something to do with this on a quantum physics level?
By observing a particle, do we really change it’s behavior?
I find this subject very interesting because I have often wondered what makes people act the way they do. I’m sure we’ve all heard someone say “How could they do that? They must be living in their own world!”
I wonder if maybe they are living in their own world and, if so, how does one get there? And is it unethical to just pop-on on them?
Solipsism takes “I think, therefore I am” to the next level, “I think, therefore you are!”
For some unexplained reason, this word struck my fancy and I, as usual, went off on a writing spree.
According to Solipsism on Wikipedia, "Solipsism is the philosophical idea that "I am the only mind that exists" ... that knowledge of anything outside the mind is unjustified. The external world and other minds cannot be known and may not exist."
From observing my children and others, I found that toddlers seem to believe the world around them sprang into existence when they became conscious, but as they grow older and reach the wonderful age of about three, their minds open to the fact that there is more out there.
That’s usually when fear enters a child’s life.
I have met some people that seem to keep that "innocence"; that live without thought of others and without fear. Yet they are outraged when anything happens that isn’t of their doing because in their "world-view" nothing can happen unless they make it happen. They appear incapable of looking ahead at all the possible outcomes because they limit "the world" to what exists inside their minds and in their experience.
Is it better or worse to be a solipsist?
A solipsist
exists
in a world of their making.
No worries have they
to plans gone astray.
But let the outside intrude
as it inevitably would
and the solipsist
insists
on the blame, abnegating.
(c) Maria Aleman 2007
I think that Jung’s collective unconscious is a variation on this. In this case, all the minds that agree on a particular “world-view” are creating it. In a way, they/we are, if you consider the “spread of culture” through the exchange of art, writings, music, philosophy, etc.
There is also the “create your day” idea of “What the Bleep do we know?” and the "The Secret”.
So are we all walking around within a bubble of personal reality? So that when two bubbles intersect, they either meld or they don’t? Does our acceptance or rejection of another person have something to do with this on a quantum physics level?
By observing a particle, do we really change it’s behavior?
I find this subject very interesting because I have often wondered what makes people act the way they do. I’m sure we’ve all heard someone say “How could they do that? They must be living in their own world!”
I wonder if maybe they are living in their own world and, if so, how does one get there? And is it unethical to just pop-on on them?
Solipsism takes “I think, therefore I am” to the next level, “I think, therefore you are!”
Saturday, February 3, 2007
Daylight Saving Time
How many people outside the computer world have heard of the U.S. Energy Policy Act of 2005?
I have this mental picture of a bunch of very bored people deciding to have some fun by changing something that is already totally unnecessary; costing companies and municipalities all over the US a lot of money (tax payer's money in the case of government agencies.)
Basically anything with a clock, and automagic timezone change for Daylight Savings Time, will need patching. Which means that customers (or users, as they were known when I started in this field years ago!) will have various disruptions of service while we, the support folks, work evenings and weekends to upgrade firmware, Operating systems and Java (Why does every package have an embedded Java? Some of my servers have 20+ instances of Java installed! ok, that's another subject.).
Some "middle-ware" software also has a built-in time mechanism so each separate piece of software on every server has to be researched, patches downloaded, tested and then outages scheduled with customers before we take our personal time to do the actual work.
By the way this includes YOUR personal computer! If you use Windows, the Windows Update has, or will have at some point before March 11th at 2:00am, the necessary patches. If you have non-windows software installed, check each vendor for their particular approach to dealing with this man-made non-emergency emergency. I don't know what Apple is doing for this, sorry.
Apparently, from what I read, the issue is not the 1 hour difference in time, but the change of timezone from, for example, EST to DST. Client/Server software doesn't like situations where incorrect timezones are used. I recall one specific problem years ago, the mainframe had been mistakenly left at GMT but the time matched EST. My servers were set to EST with the correct time. We were implementing a package and having one of those "bang your head against the wall" moments when nothing made sense. Turned out that because the mainframe was "logically" in the UK, the software said its time was off by 5 hours from the client time! The maximum allowable time difference was 5 minutes, so therefore no connection!
So we are looking at... no backups! no job scheduler! no client/server connections.
If you take all the money that is being wasted on this effort, we could probably go a long way towards shoring up all the levies around the US that are ready to go!
As a point of interest, in some versions of UNIX there will be an overflow situation in the date/time in 2038. Get more information on that here: Unix time and Year 2038 problem
I have this mental picture of a bunch of very bored people deciding to have some fun by changing something that is already totally unnecessary; costing companies and municipalities all over the US a lot of money (tax payer's money in the case of government agencies.)
Basically anything with a clock, and automagic timezone change for Daylight Savings Time, will need patching. Which means that customers (or users, as they were known when I started in this field years ago!) will have various disruptions of service while we, the support folks, work evenings and weekends to upgrade firmware, Operating systems and Java (Why does every package have an embedded Java? Some of my servers have 20+ instances of Java installed! ok, that's another subject.).
Some "middle-ware" software also has a built-in time mechanism so each separate piece of software on every server has to be researched, patches downloaded, tested and then outages scheduled with customers before we take our personal time to do the actual work.
By the way this includes YOUR personal computer! If you use Windows, the Windows Update has, or will have at some point before March 11th at 2:00am, the necessary patches. If you have non-windows software installed, check each vendor for their particular approach to dealing with this man-made non-emergency emergency. I don't know what Apple is doing for this, sorry.
Apparently, from what I read, the issue is not the 1 hour difference in time, but the change of timezone from, for example, EST to DST. Client/Server software doesn't like situations where incorrect timezones are used. I recall one specific problem years ago, the mainframe had been mistakenly left at GMT but the time matched EST. My servers were set to EST with the correct time. We were implementing a package and having one of those "bang your head against the wall" moments when nothing made sense. Turned out that because the mainframe was "logically" in the UK, the software said its time was off by 5 hours from the client time! The maximum allowable time difference was 5 minutes, so therefore no connection!
So we are looking at... no backups! no job scheduler! no client/server connections.
If you take all the money that is being wasted on this effort, we could probably go a long way towards shoring up all the levies around the US that are ready to go!
As a point of interest, in some versions of UNIX there will be an overflow situation in the date/time in 2038. Get more information on that here: Unix time and Year 2038 problem
Update my resume
www.43things.com is a wonderful web-site for those of us that love lists. Recently I put "update my resume" on my list of things I want to do. I’m not sure exactly why I put this on my list, but I think it shows that the level of BS at work may have finally hit some subconscious threshold.
I took this job in 1990 when my oldest started preschool. Not that I was a work-at-home mom, but my job was eleven miles away from the preschool. Until then she had been at a daycare a few blocks away from my job. Eleven miles may not seem like a lot, but in Miami, especially with pre-H. Andrew traffic patterns, it could be an hour to an hour and a half to travel those eleven miles. All it would take is a car accident on the expressway and I wouldn’t be able to pick her up at the end of the day.
So I took a job close by. I don’t regret it. The stress was less, the hours more flexible and the pay about the same. I’ve very rarely been bored, and there’s always new things to learn if I do find myself bored at work (those days are gone forever!).
The last seventeen years have been educational, interesting and as I said never boring, definitely my kind of job. Unfortunately in the last two years or so, management has become somewhat erratic in their decision-making. My position is not hourly and it’s not exempt, it’s “job-basis”. Garbage pickup folks are also job-basis. It means you are given a job, and you take however long you need to do it, and then you are done. In the case of the garbage pickup, the routes are fairly well established, but in my case, the work is continually piled up whether or not it is more than a normal workload.
I’ve been a systems programmer since 1980, so I know there are times that projects require 60 or even 80 hours of work in a week, and there’s the support tasks on top of that, as well as, on-call duties. But usually those are scheduled. Now we find ourselves in a position where we have lost three people in the last two years (one was promoted, one position was never filled and subsequently taken back, and the third was fired). The workload has increased by about 300% from the time we had three people in the group. There are now two of us. Even working 16 hours a day, we couldn’t catch up because management, in all it’s wisdom, refuses to let us take outages on the servers to perform said work.
So basically as the senior person in the “group”, I document everything so I can have that piece of paper ready to hold up in the meeting (after something fails because we couldn’t do Preventive Maintenance), and attempt to use it to cover my umm… donkey. That part of my job is a waste of time, effort and tax-payers money.
Anyway, I’ve thought of moving on, but my kids are still in school. The correct thing is to survive until my youngest goes to college in about four years, and then move on. I can get a job in any municipality that participates in the Florida retirement plan and keep my longevity (at least towards retirement). Homes are much cheaper, and bigger and newer further north.
But I see myself putting “update my resume” on my list of things to do now. Along with a separate goal "get my certifications" this shows a definite shift in attitude towards finding a new job.
For now I will get my certifications, keep them current and keep my resume updated. Maybe familiarizing myself with with government shops have UNIX would be useful, too.
I took this job in 1990 when my oldest started preschool. Not that I was a work-at-home mom, but my job was eleven miles away from the preschool. Until then she had been at a daycare a few blocks away from my job. Eleven miles may not seem like a lot, but in Miami, especially with pre-H. Andrew traffic patterns, it could be an hour to an hour and a half to travel those eleven miles. All it would take is a car accident on the expressway and I wouldn’t be able to pick her up at the end of the day.
So I took a job close by. I don’t regret it. The stress was less, the hours more flexible and the pay about the same. I’ve very rarely been bored, and there’s always new things to learn if I do find myself bored at work (those days are gone forever!).
The last seventeen years have been educational, interesting and as I said never boring, definitely my kind of job. Unfortunately in the last two years or so, management has become somewhat erratic in their decision-making. My position is not hourly and it’s not exempt, it’s “job-basis”. Garbage pickup folks are also job-basis. It means you are given a job, and you take however long you need to do it, and then you are done. In the case of the garbage pickup, the routes are fairly well established, but in my case, the work is continually piled up whether or not it is more than a normal workload.
I’ve been a systems programmer since 1980, so I know there are times that projects require 60 or even 80 hours of work in a week, and there’s the support tasks on top of that, as well as, on-call duties. But usually those are scheduled. Now we find ourselves in a position where we have lost three people in the last two years (one was promoted, one position was never filled and subsequently taken back, and the third was fired). The workload has increased by about 300% from the time we had three people in the group. There are now two of us. Even working 16 hours a day, we couldn’t catch up because management, in all it’s wisdom, refuses to let us take outages on the servers to perform said work.
So basically as the senior person in the “group”, I document everything so I can have that piece of paper ready to hold up in the meeting (after something fails because we couldn’t do Preventive Maintenance), and attempt to use it to cover my umm… donkey. That part of my job is a waste of time, effort and tax-payers money.
Anyway, I’ve thought of moving on, but my kids are still in school. The correct thing is to survive until my youngest goes to college in about four years, and then move on. I can get a job in any municipality that participates in the Florida retirement plan and keep my longevity (at least towards retirement). Homes are much cheaper, and bigger and newer further north.
But I see myself putting “update my resume” on my list of things to do now. Along with a separate goal "get my certifications" this shows a definite shift in attitude towards finding a new job.
For now I will get my certifications, keep them current and keep my resume updated. Maybe familiarizing myself with with government shops have UNIX would be useful, too.
Saturday, January 20, 2007
EZ-returns aren't...
My mom has been an Avon representative for 40 years. She received her "recognition" for 40 years of service in 2006. Unfortunately, she could not attend because she was in the hospital at the time.
In 2005, the "powers that be" at Avon decided that the paper orders were too cumbersome and time consuming to process. I can understand that completely, but Avon representatives in their 70s and 80s, like my mom, were put into a difficult position. They had the option of processing their orders through fax or the Internet.
My mom chose fax because she doesn't have a computer and she didn't want to bother me. To use the fax Avon provided some forms (like SAT tests) that had to be "coded" and transmitted. The lines on the form were a yellow color that is difficult to see even for me. Because her eyesight is so bad, she took the forms, and a black marker, and drew a black line over every yellow line on the paper. Since she has never taken a standardized test, (like the SAT) she had no idea that she was "marking" every box when she did that.
The first order that was delivered using the fax order method was huge! She had to sort out the real items and call the manager to get the rest of the items picked up and returned to Avon. The manager looked at her fax forms and found nothing wrong. When the second order came in the same way, my mom asked me to look at it. The problem was obvious but apparently only to me. So she kept using that method and the orders kept coming in with many additional items. At some point, the manager got tired of picking up the boxes and told my mom she had to process the returns herself over the internet.
So my mother called me. I learned the Avon website, and basically put my foot down. No more fax orders! I would process her orders through the internet. Then the returns started. Box after box of items had to be processed one at a time through the EZ-returns page. What is the item number? What campaign was this item ordered? Find it on the list. It's not on the list, what campaign was it really ordered? Specify a reason for the return. Create a "shipment". Create the UPS label, print it and pack up the box. Take it to the UPS store (great place by the way! UPS is wonderful).
Sometime during that process my mom had an accident and spent about five weeks in the hospital. Since the Avon orders are sent in two weeks in advance, she had orders for the next campaign already. So I had to coordinate the delivery of the current order so I could deliver the products to her customers. Send in the next order so her customers wouldn't be left without their gifts or whatever. And basically keep things running while she was away. For two campaigns she did not send in an order, but the manager kept her account active because of the situation and her longevity with the company.
Unfortunately, the returns continue to this day. Now it's not because she is making mistakes, but because customers change their mind or don't like what they order or ordered the wrong size. I'm sure this is all a normal part of dealing with retail merchandising but it's just not an area I'm interested in working in. Alas, I have no choice unless I want to abandon my mom in this quagmire. So at least once a month I have to get on that EZ-returns page and go through the entire process of creating a return and trucking it over to UPS.
The bright side is that UPS is only 2 blocks away, the folks are very nice and my mom is happy. Me? I just whine sometimes but I'll survive.
In 2005, the "powers that be" at Avon decided that the paper orders were too cumbersome and time consuming to process. I can understand that completely, but Avon representatives in their 70s and 80s, like my mom, were put into a difficult position. They had the option of processing their orders through fax or the Internet.
My mom chose fax because she doesn't have a computer and she didn't want to bother me. To use the fax Avon provided some forms (like SAT tests) that had to be "coded" and transmitted. The lines on the form were a yellow color that is difficult to see even for me. Because her eyesight is so bad, she took the forms, and a black marker, and drew a black line over every yellow line on the paper. Since she has never taken a standardized test, (like the SAT) she had no idea that she was "marking" every box when she did that.
The first order that was delivered using the fax order method was huge! She had to sort out the real items and call the manager to get the rest of the items picked up and returned to Avon. The manager looked at her fax forms and found nothing wrong. When the second order came in the same way, my mom asked me to look at it. The problem was obvious but apparently only to me. So she kept using that method and the orders kept coming in with many additional items. At some point, the manager got tired of picking up the boxes and told my mom she had to process the returns herself over the internet.
So my mother called me. I learned the Avon website, and basically put my foot down. No more fax orders! I would process her orders through the internet. Then the returns started. Box after box of items had to be processed one at a time through the EZ-returns page. What is the item number? What campaign was this item ordered? Find it on the list. It's not on the list, what campaign was it really ordered? Specify a reason for the return. Create a "shipment". Create the UPS label, print it and pack up the box. Take it to the UPS store (great place by the way! UPS is wonderful).
Sometime during that process my mom had an accident and spent about five weeks in the hospital. Since the Avon orders are sent in two weeks in advance, she had orders for the next campaign already. So I had to coordinate the delivery of the current order so I could deliver the products to her customers. Send in the next order so her customers wouldn't be left without their gifts or whatever. And basically keep things running while she was away. For two campaigns she did not send in an order, but the manager kept her account active because of the situation and her longevity with the company.
Unfortunately, the returns continue to this day. Now it's not because she is making mistakes, but because customers change their mind or don't like what they order or ordered the wrong size. I'm sure this is all a normal part of dealing with retail merchandising but it's just not an area I'm interested in working in. Alas, I have no choice unless I want to abandon my mom in this quagmire. So at least once a month I have to get on that EZ-returns page and go through the entire process of creating a return and trucking it over to UPS.
The bright side is that UPS is only 2 blocks away, the folks are very nice and my mom is happy. Me? I just whine sometimes but I'll survive.
Monday, January 1, 2007
Lucid Dreaming
This morning I had the most disconcerting dream, but I’m getting ahead of myself.
In my senior year in High School I did my yearly English term paper on Lucid Dreaming. Since I attended a Fundamental Baptist school, my teacher was not impressed. He disapproved so much that he managed to lose my term paper and gave me an “F”. Again, I digress.
A little over a week from now I will be attending the monthly meeting of my Metaphysical discussion group. In the last meeting I volunteered to prepare a discussion on Lucid Dreaming. Having been dreaming lucidly for almost 30 years, I thought it would be simple enough. Now I’m not so sure.
When I was younger I would realize I was dreaming almost every night, the result being that I taught myself to fly in my dreams. I followed the simple steps written in a library book whose exact name is lost in the cobwebbed archives of my mind. It was simple and entertaining; it was also a great escape from the daily stresses of life. Having a bad day? Take a nap and go flying over a beautiful countryside. I even have a place that I’ve “created” in my dreams over the years. It’s a huge valley surrounded by very tall snowcapped mountains. There’s a community of ogres that make the mountains their home and protect the valley just by the fear that their existence generates. The valley is green and full of trees and plant life. There are ponds and creeks throughout; there’s also a wonderfully misty lake in the very center surrounded by the densest forest of the tallest trees. Well, you get the picture! My dream world was much more inviting than the real one and it was totally under my control. As the years have passed, I have more ties to the real world, more reasons to be awake and less time to sleep long enough to dream lucidly.
In a general sense this is a good development, but as preparation for my discussion group, I thought it wise to “practice” so to speak. Having stayed up until midnight last night for the New Year’s Eve countdown and having a free day today, I had the perfect opportunity to sleep late and “awaken” within my dream. It worked perfectly. My dogs woke me at 6:00 A.M., the time I normally wake up in the morning. I let them out and gave them their morning Milkbone (c), a treat they associate with love and world peace (their world, of course). I ate a banana to avoid a drop in sugar level, and went back to sleep.
I found myself visiting a friend; a rather important and close friend, yet one that lives far enough away that I cannot visit regularly. Not to mention that we are no longer seeing each other, that may be another reason we don’t visit. Our daughters were all there, and it wasn’t even his house, but under the circumstances I was happy to be there. Abruptly I realized I was dreaming. When I mentioned it to him, he seemed quite happy about the idea. We sent the girls outside to play; an unusual thing to do since the youngest is 13 and the oldest is 20, but it was my dream. The doors were locked and things were going very well indeed… and then he disappeared. Just *POOF* and he was gone.
No amount of trying on my part brought him back (quite symbolic, by the way). The fact that I was in total dishabille did not keep me from getting up and searching for him. The house was dark and deserted, all the windows shut, curtains drawn and doors locked. No one was outside either. Then suddenly a van full of people pulls up at the front of the house. I head to the back room to get my clothes and there’s another group of them wandering about the house. Interestingly enough being naked didn’t bother me. I was just angry that they had intruded on my dream. A short discussion ensued where I was informed that I was breaking a whole series of rules by controlling my dreams. I was lectured quite seriously on my lack of respect for the hard work that these people had put into creating my real dream, the one I had nonchalantly pushed aside in order to dally with an old lover.
Suddenly in the middle of the lecture, I realized that I hadn’t gone flying in a long time, so I flew out the nearest window (yes, it was now open, dreams are like that!). The leader urged me to watch out for the electrical wires and that was the last I heard from them. After flying around the neighborhood for a while I did try to get to my valley, but I woke up instead. It was almost 11:00 A.M.
The good news is that I was able to dream lucidly again when I attempted it. The bad news is that I still miss my friend more than I thought. The guilt in the dream is easily explained by my 12 years of attended various religions schools.
Now to prepare for the discussion group.
In my senior year in High School I did my yearly English term paper on Lucid Dreaming. Since I attended a Fundamental Baptist school, my teacher was not impressed. He disapproved so much that he managed to lose my term paper and gave me an “F”. Again, I digress.
A little over a week from now I will be attending the monthly meeting of my Metaphysical discussion group. In the last meeting I volunteered to prepare a discussion on Lucid Dreaming. Having been dreaming lucidly for almost 30 years, I thought it would be simple enough. Now I’m not so sure.
When I was younger I would realize I was dreaming almost every night, the result being that I taught myself to fly in my dreams. I followed the simple steps written in a library book whose exact name is lost in the cobwebbed archives of my mind. It was simple and entertaining; it was also a great escape from the daily stresses of life. Having a bad day? Take a nap and go flying over a beautiful countryside. I even have a place that I’ve “created” in my dreams over the years. It’s a huge valley surrounded by very tall snowcapped mountains. There’s a community of ogres that make the mountains their home and protect the valley just by the fear that their existence generates. The valley is green and full of trees and plant life. There are ponds and creeks throughout; there’s also a wonderfully misty lake in the very center surrounded by the densest forest of the tallest trees. Well, you get the picture! My dream world was much more inviting than the real one and it was totally under my control. As the years have passed, I have more ties to the real world, more reasons to be awake and less time to sleep long enough to dream lucidly.
In a general sense this is a good development, but as preparation for my discussion group, I thought it wise to “practice” so to speak. Having stayed up until midnight last night for the New Year’s Eve countdown and having a free day today, I had the perfect opportunity to sleep late and “awaken” within my dream. It worked perfectly. My dogs woke me at 6:00 A.M., the time I normally wake up in the morning. I let them out and gave them their morning Milkbone (c), a treat they associate with love and world peace (their world, of course). I ate a banana to avoid a drop in sugar level, and went back to sleep.
I found myself visiting a friend; a rather important and close friend, yet one that lives far enough away that I cannot visit regularly. Not to mention that we are no longer seeing each other, that may be another reason we don’t visit. Our daughters were all there, and it wasn’t even his house, but under the circumstances I was happy to be there. Abruptly I realized I was dreaming. When I mentioned it to him, he seemed quite happy about the idea. We sent the girls outside to play; an unusual thing to do since the youngest is 13 and the oldest is 20, but it was my dream. The doors were locked and things were going very well indeed… and then he disappeared. Just *POOF* and he was gone.
No amount of trying on my part brought him back (quite symbolic, by the way). The fact that I was in total dishabille did not keep me from getting up and searching for him. The house was dark and deserted, all the windows shut, curtains drawn and doors locked. No one was outside either. Then suddenly a van full of people pulls up at the front of the house. I head to the back room to get my clothes and there’s another group of them wandering about the house. Interestingly enough being naked didn’t bother me. I was just angry that they had intruded on my dream. A short discussion ensued where I was informed that I was breaking a whole series of rules by controlling my dreams. I was lectured quite seriously on my lack of respect for the hard work that these people had put into creating my real dream, the one I had nonchalantly pushed aside in order to dally with an old lover.
Suddenly in the middle of the lecture, I realized that I hadn’t gone flying in a long time, so I flew out the nearest window (yes, it was now open, dreams are like that!). The leader urged me to watch out for the electrical wires and that was the last I heard from them. After flying around the neighborhood for a while I did try to get to my valley, but I woke up instead. It was almost 11:00 A.M.
The good news is that I was able to dream lucidly again when I attempted it. The bad news is that I still miss my friend more than I thought. The guilt in the dream is easily explained by my 12 years of attended various religions schools.
Now to prepare for the discussion group.
Wednesday, December 27, 2006
The first yellow brick in the road
It all started rather innocuously when I decided to take some time off during the holidays in spite of not having anything specific to do. My intention was to rest, relax, get in touch with some old friends (and maybe make some new ones!) and possibly get a few things done around the house (this was to be a bonus and not necessary).
A few nights ago as I was wandering about the internet looking for something new to catch my interest, I found 43things! Now, I am a ferocious list maker. Until a decade ago, my life was totally run by lists. I've made a point to leave room for spontaneity since then, but still I love lists!
Not wanting to overdo, I created just one "thing", "Be more social". Basically I am much more comfortable in front of a computer screen than in a room full of people. One or two good friends and I'm fine, but any more than that and I feel quite uncomfortable. So, in 2007 I will learn how to feel comfortable in a room full of strangers. Just as an aside, I do fine when the gathering is work related. I have no problems wading into a room full of strangers if I am the "systems programmer". If it's just me, that's when I am a bit lost.
Another "thing" I added to my list is to be ready for the 2007 NaNoWriMo. For the last few years I've meant to participate but when the day came around, I was just not ready. I could be going about it all wrong, but being the detail oriented person that I am, I want to have an outline ready before Nov. 1st so that I can start writing on that day.
So I have taken steps this year to get ready. My first step is this blog. Write something everyday. That's one thing I've learned from all the books I've read about writing. Write everyday. Keep a list of interesting observations and potential topics. Find interesting words to describe the things you see. Write! Write! Write! So I will start by blogging daily here; using "prompts" if I cannot think of a topic for that day.
As to the story for the NaNoWriMo, should I start by deciding what genre to write in? Should I decide first on a location? Or should the main character come first? My first love in reading is science fiction but I love fantasy and a good "whodunit" also. I am leaning towards the mystery novel at the moment. Of course, it could take place in a fantasy realm, but I think I should keep it simple for now. I'll place it in Miami, a place I am intimately familiar with. Maybe the "it" in the "whodunit" will not be murder, though. I am fighting politics at work all day; it would be cathartic to work it all out in my novel. I also love puzzles and mazes and "figurin' things out". So a political mystery where the puzzle isn't who murdered someone but maybe what is actually happening behind the scenes? Something related to my ancestry maybe - Cuban American.
Well, that is a start and I will spend some time working "blue skying" on that idea over the next week or so.
A few nights ago as I was wandering about the internet looking for something new to catch my interest, I found 43things! Now, I am a ferocious list maker. Until a decade ago, my life was totally run by lists. I've made a point to leave room for spontaneity since then, but still I love lists!
Not wanting to overdo, I created just one "thing", "Be more social". Basically I am much more comfortable in front of a computer screen than in a room full of people. One or two good friends and I'm fine, but any more than that and I feel quite uncomfortable. So, in 2007 I will learn how to feel comfortable in a room full of strangers. Just as an aside, I do fine when the gathering is work related. I have no problems wading into a room full of strangers if I am the "systems programmer". If it's just me, that's when I am a bit lost.
Another "thing" I added to my list is to be ready for the 2007 NaNoWriMo. For the last few years I've meant to participate but when the day came around, I was just not ready. I could be going about it all wrong, but being the detail oriented person that I am, I want to have an outline ready before Nov. 1st so that I can start writing on that day.
So I have taken steps this year to get ready. My first step is this blog. Write something everyday. That's one thing I've learned from all the books I've read about writing. Write everyday. Keep a list of interesting observations and potential topics. Find interesting words to describe the things you see. Write! Write! Write! So I will start by blogging daily here; using "prompts" if I cannot think of a topic for that day.
As to the story for the NaNoWriMo, should I start by deciding what genre to write in? Should I decide first on a location? Or should the main character come first? My first love in reading is science fiction but I love fantasy and a good "whodunit" also. I am leaning towards the mystery novel at the moment. Of course, it could take place in a fantasy realm, but I think I should keep it simple for now. I'll place it in Miami, a place I am intimately familiar with. Maybe the "it" in the "whodunit" will not be murder, though. I am fighting politics at work all day; it would be cathartic to work it all out in my novel. I also love puzzles and mazes and "figurin' things out". So a political mystery where the puzzle isn't who murdered someone but maybe what is actually happening behind the scenes? Something related to my ancestry maybe - Cuban American.
Well, that is a start and I will spend some time working "blue skying" on that idea over the next week or so.
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