13 posts from September 2006

What's the last thing you usually do or think about before you fall asleep?

Do? Masturbate (or have sex, depending on if I'm alone in bed or not)

Think about?  "Damn, I'm good."

That's a phrase that's been stuck in my head for awhile now:  There has to be a better way.

It first came up during a drunken night at a bar with a friend a little over a month ago.  Or rather, that's when someone else finally said it.  It's something I've been saying for years, usually just in a scream that booms through my subconcious on a regular, almost clock-like, basis.

For the past couple of weeks I've been thinking it more and more, and I could feel it starting to come together but it was waiting for a catalyst.  A seed, if you will.  That irritating grain of sand in the oyster that kicks off the beginning of the formation of a pearl.

This morning I had what I think could very well have been a crystallization moment. I'll go so far as to call it The Tipping Point, with the obvious nod to Malcolm Gladwell, whose name randomly came up in a casual conversation this morning.

After weeks of banging my head against the wall of a closed-minded organization hierarchy at my company, constantly wondering why I couldn't manage to make progress on a single thing, I was starting to question my own abilities.  I was actually starting to doubt my professional acumen.  Anyone who knows me at all has to know how absolutely ludicrous it is that I would ever question my skill or knowledge...I'm the cockiest bastard you'll ever meet when it comes to my absolute confidence in my ability to solve a problem elegantly and efficiently.

But this morning, I received what was a relatively simple question from a friend (coincidentally, the same friend who I had that drunken bar night with over a month ago) via a text message.  We launched into a ten minute back and forth over the usefulness and appropriateness of formal taxonomies, folksonomies, tagging or unrestricted search paradigms for various audience contexts.  In that ten minutes, in messages of 160 characters or less, I was able to explain my viewpoints, answer his questions, and feel like I was actually engaged in a worthwhile discussion.

Contrast that ten minutes with the four hours of meetings that I'll sit through today where I will accomplish little and may be able to provide one small piece of information that will actually be heard by anyone else.  Go ahead, wrap your head around that.  I'll wait...

Ridiculous, isn't it?

I know there's a better way.  And what I know now is that I'm going to have to make that better way, because it's not just going to throw itself in front of me.  Large companies bring rigid hierarchies that don't allow for progress.  I need progress.

Are you a morning person or a night owl?

Night owl...total friggin' creature of the night.  Morning can suck my ass.

Sometimes I have so many ideas floating around in my head that I have trouble keeping up with them.  When I close my eyes (or hell, sometimes when my eyes are fully open) I can see them all like a billion fine silken threads just floating and waving around.   It's gorgeous, but terribly treacherous.

With all that waving around, it's hard to catch them.  And, if I don't catch them in time, they can start to bump into each other and turn into an indecipherable clump, not entirely unlike a rubber band ball where all of the bands are of different size and color, and the person wrapping it just started slapping things on with glue after awhile instead of placing each band around the ball individually.

This is part of why I've started obsessing over mindmaps.  I can use them to capture my thoughts and get them into som semblance of order, sometimes even as I have the thought (if I happen to be in front of a computer).  Sometimes though, even my mindmaps can start to get out of control--especially if I start to throw thought clouds around the nodes.

Lately all of my maps are showing me that I need to buckle down and get to work.  There is too much that I want to do, and if I don't just start, the ideas are going to lose their luster and fade into the background again.  And these ideas are too good for me to allow that to happen.

The big ideas only come around every once in awhile, and sometimes I let them go too easily.

Oh, and Jeffrey.  I would actually wear this, if only you would make it for a big-boobed fat girl...

The PR shows at Olympus Fashion Week happened this morning.  Getty is putting the images up as I type this, of course I am refreshing like a madwoman...

My one comment thus far?

Michael, honey, you have to know that I have loved and adored you through this entire season, but seriously?  What the fuck, dude?

It's not ok.  It's just not.

Bullshit.  Bullshit.  Bullshit.

I don't know how Project Runway shakes out (the show is on right now), but all I can say at this point is BULLSHIT.

What the fuck is up with bring Vincent and Angela back?  Why?  Why?  Why?

Did God wake up drunk again?  (Thanks, Jeffrey.)  Am I being personally punished for some transgression against humanity?

Stupid fucking producers.  I mean, I'm sorry y'all chose a shitty cast for this season, but must you torture us after the fact like this?

I am so cold.  Here's the thing: I'm never cold.  But today, despite the fact that I'm wearing a lightweight sweater with a velvet jacket over it, I'm practically shivering at my desk as I freeze my (considerable) ass off.  This is insane.

Does bleeding lower one's core body temperature?  Because if it does, that's just one more reason to Hate Being A Girl.

What's your middle name?  Is there a story or history behind it?

Middle name?  I don't need no stinkin' midde name.

Share a photo of something that comforts you.

I quit, but that doesn't change the affinity I have for this picture...