Owning it

The pointless photo? Variation on a theme, I guess. Either that, or I liked the shape.

We're going to have to talk about shapes and patterns sometime on this new blog, aren't we? Yeah, probably. Another day, though.

-----------

There's been a song rolling through my head for a day or so. A song about, erm, cocaine use... but that's not why it's become an earworm. For anyone who followed the link I just added, it's the last line that grabs me. This was a choice, this was never a mistake.

There's a lot in that line, don't you think? Taken out of context (which my brain insists upon doing), there's even more to it. Ownership, you see.

Or maybe you don't. I'm currently being interrupted (in a good way, but still) just about every two minutes by something or other, so it's very possible that I'm being as clear as a solid brass doorknob.

That, by the way, is different from the balls of a brass monkey.





Anyway.

What gets me about the line is that it's a pretty audacious and secure thing to be able to stand up and admit that things in your life are by choice and not by accident or mistake. It's not so easy to take ownership of where you are and how you got there.

Take me, for example.

I'm in a job that I never planned to be in. Back when I was fresh out of school and looking for work, there were no jobs at all in the area I was trained in.

And what area was that, Dee?

That'd be a great big none-of-your-business.

I ended up blanketing the world in general in applications. That produced a phone call from a nature centre that I hadn't even actually heard of (my name got forwarded to them from someone else I'd sent a resumé to), and caused me to fall into a job.

A completely unexpected job.

A job that I'm still doing, mumblemumble years later. Sometimes happily; sometimes not. Granted, things have changed and evolved over the vaaast time I've spent in this unexpected job, but the fact remains that I never especially wanted to be here in the first place.

Pretty hard to own that one, don't you think?

Sure... until you remember the part where I've been here for years. Obviously something other than laziness or, hell, inertia is to blame for my still being here. I've had other jobs. I've even had other jobs while I've been working here (you have to do something in the slow season). I'm still here.

I must... fit. Or whatever.

But all this was only by way of example. We all have things in our lives that may seem like accidents, or less than ideal, or completely impossible for outsiders to understand. We all, also, can be pretty quick to blame circumstance or fate for putting us where we are.

It ain't necessarily so, folks.

Almost anything in our lives can be changed (at least a little) if we want change. If we don't want change, then there's probably a reason for it. Call it comfort, call it belonging, call it fit, call it Norman if you want to. Doesn't matter. What does matter is that if something is the way it is because that's what we want it to be, then we should own up to it.

Own it.

Who knows? Once you look at your life and realise that you've really owned where you are and where you belong, you may even find that it makes you happy.

Nothing wrong with admitting that you've found your place, if that's what you discover.

This was a choice, this was never a mistake.






However... bear in mind, Wheat, that this doesn't mean I won't still quit if I decided to own a different choice. Just saying.

[/blather]

Hey guess what I can bother you with now

Not only, gentle reader, do we occupy our (your?) time lately with macro images; we now have a shiny new zoom lens for the digital SLR camera.

Ah, yes. It is possible to be six feet away and still take a shot that shows the fly to the left should really have shaved her legs.

Oh and for the Alberta folks who are craving a groundswell (ha! I kill me!) of growing things, there are butter-yellow tulips under the fly. You know, in case you missed it.

On another note ~ and I know the anticipation will be extreme ~ there are oddities out there in the world that should be noted, photographically of course, yes. This intrepid reporter will attempt to keep you apprised of such nonsense... erm, I mean of course, such important material. Yeh, that's it.



Why yes, yes, I did make the jet fuel that we have called coffee this morning. This is perhaps why the post is a) early and b) just plain nonsense but for the pretty flower for the OLF.

Pointless photo of the day:

More prairie crocus buds.

That's it for today.

The mood changed rather abruptly after the usual Sunday visit to PostSecret, I'm afraid. Sometimes things hit a little too close to home there. And... no, I'm not going to tell you which one. It's not like it matters to anyone but me in the end. Just check them out for yourself if you haven't already.

Catharsis is a pretty good thing, you know. Much better than ulcers or insanity.






See you tomorrow.

It's... it's...

A flower!!!!!

Ok, yeah, I did that bit yesterday. This particular pointless flower photo, though, comes with an extra. If you look very carefully at this partially open narcissus you should see a speck at the edge of one of the petals. I can tell you (since I was there) that the speck is actually...

Wait for it...




A spider, yes. A very tiny spider, but a spider nonetheless.

Should I explain the spider thing for those who are new to the program? Sure, why not. It'll fill some space, if nothing else.

I like taking snapshots of spiders.

No particular reason.

Well, there is a reason of sorts, but it's not the one that most people expect. I suppose that it would be normal to assume that someone who spends altogether too much time hunting down spiders just to take their pictures would, in fact, be very fond of spiders.

Not me.

I mean, I do like spiders. They're fascinating creatures. I talked (ad nauseum) on the old blog about finding beauty in functionality, and spiders have functional beauty in spades. A spider's entire anatomy reflects its lifestyle, really. No wasted parts there. I like that in an animal.

For those who are new to the program, I should say that I have a bit of a weird enthusiasm for comparative anatomy. Call it a hangover from the university days.

Anyway, I like spiders, but it's not why I take (pointless) spider photos. My two fans have heard this before, but I like challenging my camera to take pictures of things that the autofocus thinks it can't see.

It's sort of an odd game I play with myself. Outwit the Camera.






Hey, I never said it was a good game. I just happen to like it, that's all.

The spiders came into the whole stupid camera tricks thing a bit later. I was doing a spider project at work a few years ago and needed some reference pictures, so I started looking more carefully for spiders. After doing that for a few months you start noticing spiders just about everywhere whether you want to or not. It became sort of a mini-obsession for a while. I learned more about spiders than I ever really thought I would.

Like just about everyone else in my life I thought the whole spider thing would be over once I finished the display, but it never quite went away.

So I take spider photos.

Lots of spider photos.





I like to take pictures of flowers, too.

No particular reason.








Well, there is a reason of sorts, but...

Absolutely completely non-pointless photo of the day:

IT'S FLOWERS!!!!!

More than one, even.

Wildflowers. Viola adunca. Early Blue Violet.

You know what this means, don't you? Actual, live, wild plants are really growing here in Alberta. Wild ones, not misguided and confused European imports.

And you know what that means?




SPIDER SEASON IS COMING!!!!!

Yay spiders.

I've already seen a few, to be honest. Now I just have to work on convincing them to be a little less camera-shy.




And shut up, world. It's been a very, very long winter.

Before I go, I should say that the weird cropping is entirely intentional. I liked the tulip leaf being in the way. It's a nice frame, and it leads a bit more of a "shy violet" feel to the whole.

Well, I think so anyway.




Did I mention that spider season is coming?

Pointless macro

And if it's pointless do we really need to type or read anything further.


I don't think so either.

Pointless desk photo of the day:

Since I haven't had time to go out and take any good... oh, wait. Let me say any "good" instead. The quotes make it a bit more accurate.

All right, we'll try again. Since I haven't had time to go out and take any "good" pointless photos lately, you're being treated to a day of my job is weird instead.

Today's desk shot was taken, funnily enough, today. Also funnily enough, it wasn't posed. The featured objects are currently sitting on my desk in exactly the way you're seeing them. That's right: seven assorted flashlights and a bottle of really cheap and gaudy red nail polish.

I suppose you're going to tell me now that you don't have something similar on your desk?

If you look closely, you'll see that all of the flashlights have been painted with the nail polish. Well, all except for the fish. It has a red bulb in it already, so I didn't have to paint it.

And for those of you wondering why I have a fish-shaped flashlight on my desk in the first place... none of your business.

Some of you are probably asking yourselves two questions (or should I say at least two questions?). First, why did I feel the need to paint flashlights with nail polish? Second, why was I doing it at work?

I said some of you, you'll notice. I'm hoping that at least a fraction of my two fans know what red flashlights are useful for. For the rest of you, do you want me to wait until after you've googled red flashlight or would you just like me to assure you that painting flashlights with red nail polish isn't my latest hobby?

I can wait.

Really.









Ok, so now that we all know that red flashlights are used for astronomy because they don't destroy your dark-adapted vision the way that white flashlights do, I can tell you that should you want a red flashlight (and I know you all do now) you don't have to look for an expensive commercial model. Just get yourself a cheap flashlight and then either buy a red gel, a red filter, red cellophane (like they wrap gift baskets in), or some red nail polish. Presto. Instant do-it-yourself red flashlight.

They're not just good for astronomy, you know. They're kind of handy for night nature walks (or, I suppose, dog walks) in general.

In this specific flashlight-reddening case, I was layering on the polish pretty thickly because I wanted to dim down the flashlights as well. We'll be using them (I hope) in the mobile planetarium, and a bunch of grade sixes wielding bright flashlights -- even red ones -- will tend to make the stars disappear. Kind of defeats the purpose when that happens.

I haven't had a chance to test these yet except in the storeroom, but I expect that they'll do the trick. And by the way, I'm not sure it's a good thing that no one here even looks the least bit interested/concerned/confused anymore when I go into the storeroom by myself repeatedly and turn off all the lights.

You'd think they'd at least ask whether I tripped over anything.

This place is weird.

But then I suppose that's really not news by this point, is it?





I'm going to eat my lunch now. Have fun with your flashlights, and be sure to polish them in a well-ventilated area if you want to avoid certain comments from your coworkers.

Pointless photo of the day:

Aaaaand... that'll be it. At least from me. Got places to go et cetera et cetera and if I don't get out of here now I'll probably end up staying while everyone else takes their lunch breaks.

They're a little too used to me staying for lunch here, you know. Have to shake up the routine now and then when I get the chance.

Later.

And yes, I know the photo's weird. I live to serve when it comes to weirdness.

You know what?

The poplar pollen count is HIGH.

Didn't even need to look that one up.

Yes, I am that talented.

----------

The pointless photo is, of course, not of poplar pollen. I'm not that talented.

----------

I've just backspaced out all of today's rant. I decided (somewhat belatedly. It would have made more sense to decide this before I'd already typed a bunch of words, but that's how it goes when the poplar pollen count is high) that I wasn't in the mood to be pseudomad about something that really isn't worth the effort.

See? Every once in a while I stop being a five-year-old for a few minutes.

However, this does leave me with a big blank space where today's topic was supposed to be.

So...





Hmmm. We could talk freaks, I guess. The freaks are in rare form because of a bunch of photos and a short snippet of video of a couple of people (ok, famous people) wearing t-shirts. It made the freaks very happy, which made me very happy since it's hilarious.

That reminds me. Wine gums at the ready, t.v. club? Oh, and is anyone watching Raines besides me? I've finally had a chance to look at last week's recording (talk about yer time-shifting viewer), and while it didn't do as much for me as previous episodes there's still a lot there to like. Erm, anyway...

Oh, hey. Changed my mind mid-topic. Let's leave the freaks for a moment (they're too busy staring at the pictures to notice anyway) and talk about t-shirts. Does anyone else find it odd/funny that custom tees have come back in such a big way? I'll admit to being old enough to remember the first flowering of that particular... art(?), and I haven't figured out yet whether the current enthusiasm has more to do with fake nostalgia, the ease of computer-driven design, or the ability to set up a website and make money from people all over the world who would never have heard of you back in the day of the small-town custom press shop.

It's interesting, though, and I have to say that I've enjoyed looking at some of what's out there in the interweb apparel department.

Looking, mind. I'm far too cheap to go so far as to actually order any of that stuff.

It's too bad, though, because some of the designers are very clever. I suppose you'd have to be to find yourself a place in such a roaring market, but there you go.

I'd love to find myself a position as a snarky t-shirt designer. Or maybe I should just start selling tees on the blog... Oh, wait. That would imply having ambition, and would also make the blog less than pointless. That's so completely not allowed.

What if I take the more magnanimous route and suggest that if you've ever seen anything here that you find tee-worthy, then be my guest to go out and have a t-shirt made. My treat. That is, no charge for the idea.

It'd mean I'd have to make an attempt to be quotable, but then weirder things have been put on t-shirts than some of the nonsense you find here.

So, yeah. Go ahead. Make me wearable. Maybe we could start something here. After all, everyone likes an in-joke.





All right, so it's me that likes an in-joke. But if enough people start wearing an in-joke then... well, it's still an in-joke. But it's a cool one. So come on, people. For the first time in my life make me cool.

Am I the only one sniggering at the mere thought of this? Probably.

But hey, what would it hurt to add another pointless t-shirt or two to the world?








Just make sure you send me a picture of it or something. I've got to entertain myself somehow, after all.

Things I have learned today:

1. Fruit cup lids are attached using industrial-strength contact cement.

2. It's hard to open a fruit cup sealed with industrial-strength contact cement when you have a bandage on your thumb.

3. When you have a bandage on your thumb and attempt to open a fruit cup sealed with industrial-strength contact cement, you're likely to end up wearing most of the liquid from the aforementioned fruit cup.

4. If you don't want to have a bandage on your thumb, don't try removing the sharp edge of an improperly-cut zip tie with a craft scalpel. Even if you're only doing it to prevent someone from injuring himself (or herself) on the sharp edge of an improperly-cut zip tie.

5. If you're planning to compete in the First Aid Olympics, you should have Wheat on your team. He moves fast when there's blood involved.

6. If you've cut yourself with a craft scalpel, it's only fair to let your office mate know that it's just a tiny cut before he sprints down the hallway for the first aid kit.

7. Someone should probably take my craft scalpel away.

8. Wheat is neither a Bambi nor a Mouse's Butt. Number 8 comes to the blog courtesy of the Toronto office

9. Potato chips are not the same thing as a sandwich.

10. Neither is ice cream. Number 10 comes to the blog courtesy of Wheat

11. When it's not snowing, the sky appears to be vaguely blue.

12. It's hard to type a blog entry with a bandage on your thumb.

13. There is no number 13. At least, not in this list.

14. I need to get back to work.

Chapter 101:Wherein Dee takes issue

According to the Toronto office there is a geekiness factor in taking macros. Nuh-uh. Erm, that is to say that I heartily disagree. It's been my experience that taking macros is pointless, not geeky. There is a difference, you know.

Pointlessness is the art of wasting internet space by posting photos and thoughts (or lack of same) that do little more than cause the casual reader to go what the h-e-double-hockey-sticks? and scratch his or her head. Geekiness, on the other hand, is the art of biting the heads off of live chickens.

And frankly, I don't see what that has to do with photography at all.

----------

So, this is the part where I go off on some weird tangent because of course I've had stuff saved up for an entire DAY that I desperately need to get off my chest.

You'd think that, anyway.

Lately it's been more the case that this is the part where I start whining about having almost nothing to say. Yes, I admit that my contributions to the blog have been less than fascinating recently. I'd give you an excuse or several but then it just turns into more whining and you find yourself wondering why on earth she bothers to even have a blog if all she ever does is whine about not having anything to say on it.

It's ok, though. I annoy myself too.

Frequently.






All right, I'll tell you what. Let's spin the Wheel of Blame and pick just one excuse for not being readable. One whinge a post certainly shouldn't be too much to put up with. Here we go...

...

...

...

...

And the winner is...

Weather.



Hmmm. Somewhat predictable, that. But I guess I can't argue with the wheel.

So, the weather. It's April, right? Just thought I'd check, because it's been hard to tell for sure in amongst the FIFTEEN METRES OF SNOW WE'VE HAD IN THE PAST month.

Fiiine, so it's been more like thirty centimetres. But still. It's APRIL, fergodssake. We expect a bit of snow here and there in April, but not EVERY FREAKING DAY FOR WEEKS.

Or days.

Something like that. It gets hard to remember after a while.

Now, to top it off it's supposed to be well into the double digits in a day or two. What this will mean is that the trees will all go into a panic because their usual schedule has been so disrupted and they'll just pump out the pollen.

I foresee evil in the wind, boys and girls.

But... that takes me to a whole separate whinge, and the wheel says I'm not allowed to do that today. I'd better go get set up for the afternoon's excitement, then. Enjoy the pointless photograph. I know it's not as purty as the one below it, but it was the only me too I had easily at hand.

Maybe spring will come one day and I'll get to take photos of actual growing things again.

*leaves dramatically with hand across forehead*





Ok, maybe not. But I liked the visual.

Ice Queen

.... which is to say I got lucky a few times in capturing the untold story of ice whilst taking pictures with the new camera's macro. Oh stop rolling your eyes at the geekiness factor. I have to do something with my time, you know.

Hmm. Well, okay, there is the world climate .. and there is the devastation of Katrina still to be remedied .. oh and poverty even among those who were once middle-class .. and ... well, hey, I like photography dammit. Stop bothering me.

Anyway......


When you clicky-click the photo and gaze lovingly at my effort, I defy you to not feel actually pulled to the centre of the shot.

Go on. I can wait.


Cool, yes?


Well yes, I know it's ice and it's supposed to be cool. Gah, you people are a tough audience.

Today's photo is brought to you by the letter D and the letter C for darn cold as the Western Office is currently experiencing temperatures in the minus column.

With our temps heading toward 25 C for the day, is it so wrong for me to be as gleeful as I am about this?

A pointless photo of wheat

Obviously wheat has a glow. Of course if you live in Toronto these days, anything photographed against that blue sky would have an amazing glow.

Wheat is one of the top three produced crops in the world you know.

Oh, wait.

*snicker*



You didn't think you were going to get a glimpse at the real Wheat? I would never betray that confidence and post a person's likeness without them signing a waiver.

Besides all of those good shots are on a CD in the other computer room in the house.
And it's early.
And I'm lazy.
I bet Wheat's heart did a little pit-a-pat when he saw the title, tho'.



Ah, yes, I live to serve.

Note to the Toronto office:

Should I have mentioned before you decided to post dog bums that I'm not going to be around a computer tomorrow so you may just have to post two days in a row?

And... dog bums?





I'm really starting to think you're catching Me-itis, you know.

Oh, and for anyone who didn't get the whole mouse's butt thing... here you go.

To rival any mouse's butt

Not to be outdone by a tiny mouse, you understand.

These are the, by now, infamous pups. Bailey is on the left which means Duchess is not. They have lovely faces but of course you will have to trust me on that.

They like long walks on the beach, quiet afternoons, getting caught in the rain .... wait, wrong website.

Actually this posture was becoming my outlook on life also but the sun has finally shown (shone?) itself after weeks and weeks and weeks and ... you get the idea.

The vacuuming, the dusting, the everything-else can wait for a rainy day. Today is for Me. Oh, yes. And them.

Blather, pointless

Today's photo was apparently too pointless even for this blog. Erm, read that as: the photo thingy isn't happy at the moment. I'll try again in a bit. In the meantime, though...

I'm very tired (yeah, and you've never heard THAT one before). It's snowing. Dirty Moe is being spiteful. And weird things have been coming out of my mouth.

Examples?

If you insist.

How about "Well, I think that the universe consists of shattered bits of pulsating frog"? Take that, Big Bang Theory.

No?

Ok, then we move onto the discussion of Tycho Brahe's nose. One of the most important astronomers of the past few hundred years, and the only thing I can really remember about him is the fake nose. I even wrote a poem about it (or used it as the basis for a poem) at one point.

I'm beginning to think that I may be ever so slightly weird.

All right, the photo finally decided to make an appearance. That's good, because it's important today.

Have you figured out why yet?

Go on, think about it...

Give up?

They're pointless posts, of course.

All right, all right. But you do have to give me credit for trying. And besides, I could be out catching bunnies with Wheat right now. That'd be fun, what with the whole brain problem and all.

We don't normally go out catching bunnies here at the centre, in case you wondered. Not part of the usual mandate, no. This situation had some extenuating circumstances, though, so Wheat is off with a large net and a small kennel, and I...

Hmmm.

What am I doing, exactly?

Riiight. I'm wandering around aimlessly in cyberspace.





Things are about normal here then.








I should get back to work. File this one under Pointlessness, Complete and Utter.

Something

What? No idea yet, but I'm aiming for... something. Or other.

Today's pointless photo is of some native crocus (pasque flower) buds in my father's yard. At least that's what they looked like on the weekend. Right now they're probably covered in a few centimetres of snow, since we managed another weird bit of weather this morning.

The only good thing about this is that I get a day of not complaining about my allergies.

You're welcome.

----------

Note to the t.v. club: as the arbiter of all things in wine gummery, I've officially decided that last night was certainly worth its weight in wine gums. In the new resealable packages, even, so they won't go stale.

----------

Ok, I've got this far in the post and I still don't know what flavour of something it's supposed to be about. I guess that means that something is short, to the point, and completely lacking in substance.

Good to know.

Here's a question:

What do you get when you cross allergies, a steroid adjustment, and a whack of shot-to-death students?

I'm not sure, but I can tell you that it isn't sleep.

Now, granted, the no sleep thing was more about the first two items on the list. The third one mostly just gave me something to think about while I wasn't sleeping.

At any rate, I'm massively less than functional at the moment. This'll be short.

----------

Today's pointless photo is of a fly sitting on the toilet flap that's anchored in my father's lawn.








Someone better be asking why there's a toilet flap anchored in my father's lawn. If you're not asking, I'm supremely disappointed in you.

What?

Oh, so now you want to know why there's a toilet flap anchored in my father's lawn? I could get pissy and not tell you at all, you know.

Ok, fiiine.

The toilet flap is, of course, covering up the hole for the free-standing clothesline when the clothesline isn't in use. Common sense, really.

Common sense if you're my father, at least. If you asked him why he's using a toilet flap to cover the clothesline hole he'd probably just tell you that it was the right size for the job.

And really, what could be more reasonable?

It makes you wonder why more people don't have toilet flaps anchored in their lawns.




I'm going now.

Day two of nothing much from Alberta...

Nothing much except a big whopping sinus headache -- one of the biggest unfairs in the world is to wake up with a headache -- and the fact that I have to do something this morning that is 99% guaranteed to put me in a bad mood.

It's doing the blogosphere a favour not to post at length on days like this. It makes the internet a lot less bitchy, at any rate.

On a brighter note, today's pointless photo was taken yesterday. This proves that there are actual living things out in the yard.

Unfortunately, some of the living things are responsible for the aforementioned sinus headache.

That's enough from me, then. I've sure you've already gotten the point, and since this blog is supposed to be pointless (says so right in the title) it'll probably turn into a pumpkin by tomorrow.







Ah well. At least we can all have pie that way.

Pointless weather-induced post

Have you had occasion in your life to experience that moment in time when all things come together; when the sun is shining, you awaken on a Spring day to the chatter of birds in the cedars outside your window, a cat stretching at the foot of the bed.

Have you seen the joy on the faces of those around you as they bask in the promise inherent in the rebirthing of the Earth.

Have you walked in a new place lately and really looked around you to intentionally make a new memory.




Yeh, well. Not so much.


But I have plans to. When it finally stops being the wrong damn season for April.


Today's photo does not come from Swarovski. Sadly.

Pointless photos of the day:

Otherwise known as I think that thing over there might actually be growing.

I'm not exactly in the mood to blather at the moment. Maybe later, if the head cooperates. Allergies, did I mention?

Anyway, here are a couple of shots I snapped out in the Sanctuary yesterday. In the meantime, the Toronto office is quite welcome to post in my stead. You know, if there's anything at the Centre of the Universe that could be considered worth posting about.

[/disaffected Westerner]




And yes, she knows I'm kidding. Or at least I assume she does. I'm not kidding about the posting part, though. Surely it's time for someone else to do a few lines' worth of complaining?

Pointless whinge of the day:

I've got plenty of nothing today. Oh, and in regards to the link: how hilarious is it to think of Bryn Terfel doing Porgy and Bess? Great voice, interesting personality... but completely not Porgy and Bess material.

Well, I think so anyway.

Maybe if Porgy and/or Bess was Welsh?

----------

As I said before I distracted myself by playing Fun With Search Engines, I've got nothing. I'm at the end of a six-day work week, I'm antihistamined up because of the snow moulds... and, of course, right after the snow moulds stop sporing the poplar trees will start pollening.

Either way, I've still got nothing.

Well, except mucous.






And runny eyes.






None of which counts as blog worthy.

I suppose that means I should just post this and get the whinge over with before it stars developing momentum. Believe me, you'll be hearing enough about my allergies in the next few weeks that we'll all be thankful for the days when I decide to stop typing early.

So...

Enjoy the tulip. It's one of last year's crop. You'd have a hard time finding blooming tulips outside at the moment, seeing as we started the week with yet another snowstorm. If you recall, I whinged about that too.

Txt

A follow-up from yesterday:

Wheat to me, a few minutes ago: "Do you actually listen to yourself?"

Now, before you make a judgement about Wheat or me, know that the remark was met with absolute laughter from both of us because I was admittedly talking complete nonsense about my lunch (or lack of same. This'll be short since I need to go pick something up today).

I do have my nattering-on moments. It probably has something to do with the fact that I didn't put my hair up today, which always drives me a little bit nuts.

Let's see: no hairdo, no lunch... get the feeling that SOMEBODY had a little trouble getting going this morning?

----------

Now, about the title. Txt, as in text messaging. I text a lot. A helluva lot, considering that I'm not exactly in the age bracket you'd expect when you think about the average text user.

I've been noticing lately just how much I text because in the last few days I've been texting a lot less.

Erm, let me explain.

One of my regular recipients is the Toronto office, you see, and she's been have phone issues. Yes, we've actually had to resort to *gasp* e-mailing each other lately rather than just firing off the usual text nonsense.

It's such an inconvenience.

And that's what really hammered home the fact that I use texting more than I realised. When a person has to go to the lengths of actually opening up an e-mail program to communicate with someone and finds it all a bother, then that person probably needs to put down the phone and back away slooowly.

I'm not going to do it, though.

Call it addiction if you want, but the truth is that I like to communicate (it's what I do for a living, for pity's sake) and I like it when communication is painless. I have trouble justifying a long-distance call to a friend (I'm cheap, remember), but I'm quite willing to keep in touch. As long as it's easy.

And inexpensive.

And distracting...







Ok, that was a little too much truth there.

Off I go to find some food, then. Text you later.

Shhh...

Do you hear that?





Hear what?

Well, whatever's around you. Stop and have a listen.

Do you hear it?




If you were to listen to the office I'm sitting in at the moment, you'd hear my fingers hitting the keyboard and Badly Drawn Boy playing on the tinny computer speakers (not an especial favourite. I just have the eclectic station on, as usual). If you were at my apartment -- and you'd have to tell me where you got the key if you were -- you'd likely hear the television or stereo, the refrigerator motor, and my neighbours either playing video games or cheering whichever hockey team happened to be televised that night. You might even be treated to the hotel staff talking during their smoke break out on the loading dock that my balcony faces.

I have deluxe accommodations, you know.






Now, what if you were outside and took a moment to listen. What would you hear then?

Since I'm currently at work (late tonight, yes), I could go outside and be pretty confident of hearing the wind in the trees, whatever birds happened to be calling, Richardson's Ground Squirrels foraging... and the traffic on the major road to the north of us. It's not exactly an unspoiled wilderness.

But then, few of them are.

I was skimming through an interpretation journal today whose theme, as you might have guessed, was sound. Sound as used in programming, intrusive sound in supposedly protected areas; that kind of thing. One of the points made was that there are very, very few places left in North America where you can listen for, say, fifteen minutes and not be interrupted by at least one man-made noise in that time.

My first thought was that if you're around listening there are always going to be man-made noises, unless you're a ghost or an owl or something like that. Human presence = human noises. But then, you must remember that I'm a five-year-old with a short attention span and I'm easily distracted by niggles like that.

I (of course) see where they were going, though. We disrupt the natural world with sound just as much as (and possibly more than) we do with visible pollution. Man-made noise adversely affects territorial calls, mating, denning, hunting opportunities, and probably a million other things that I'm not going to bother thinking about just now.

This indicates that we're evil and should be gotten rid of.






Nah, just kidding.

It only indicates that we're self-centred, that's all. And whether we should be gotten rid of or not is a topic for another day, don't you agree?

Part of the difficulty with man-made noise, however, is that we don't listen as well as we might have in the past. And I don't mean that we're deafer than our ancestors, although I'm sure that there are audiologists out there who will tell you that we're doing our best to become that way, what with modern amplification and all of that other stuff.

What I really mean is that we don't have to listen so we don't try to. Most of us aren't worried about being chased down by predators. Most of us don't have to sneak up on our food or risk going hungry. We've become mainly visual creatures who exist in a world of artificially produced sound, because we don't have to care about the natural sounds that might be out there.

We simply don't listen.

Here at the nature centre, we often use a listening exercise to get younger children focussed on the natural world that they've come to visit (that they have to come to the centre to visit nature is a bit of a problem in itself, but again... another topic for another time). It's as simple as getting them to sit quietly (SIMPLE, that part. You're allowed to roll your eyes here if you've ever tried to get a group of preschoolers to sit quietly) and then having them count the sounds off on their fingers as they hear them.

It's amazing how well it works when done properly.

We often take things a step further by having them describe the sounds, guess what made them, or divide them into sounds made by nature and sounds made by humans. Even if you don't do that, the exercise is valuable. Just knowing that there are things out there that they didn't notice until they were really, really quiet is enough to get people interested in their surroundings in a way they may not have been to begin with. I'd say it's a different way of seeing, but seeing with your ears is just silly.

Even a preschooler can tell you that.

I suppose what I'm saying here is that we're never going to appreciate the world we have if we continue to feel disconnected from it, and we're always going to feel that disconnect if we insist upon wandering through life without senses. So... listen, dammit. Take a moment wherever you are and listen. Quietly. Without distraction.

Try listening for a minute. Fifteen. Whatever you can manage. Close your eyes and just listen.

Then try just watching.

I'd say to try just smelling next, but by now you've got to be getting the picture.





And besides, this has been a long time for a five-year-old with a short attention span to sit and focus.

Snit? Why, I never snit.

Ok, so I do. You're probably just tired of hearing about it. I can understand that.

Today's pointless photo is definitely not a current one, but if I'm having a snitless day on the blog that means I can't post anything I've shot within the past couple of days.

I have very little to say at the moment, so this'll probably be short. Just as well, really, since I've literally put my blood into my work today (read that as: I've got a bandage on my index finger, and it's messing up the typing just a tad). Besides, it's Classic Rock Day on the tinny computer speakers, and my two fans know that it's pretty ridiculous to expect much substance out of this brain when it's too busy singing along.

I like to sing along, you know.

It's Bohemian Rhapsody now, in case you want to sing along too.

----------

I was reading the freaks this morning because that's what I do on Wednesdays (and WE HAVE WINE GUMS today. I was the one who brought them, but the fact that I broke down and bought wine gums does NOT let someone *coughwheatcough* off the hook at all, oh no) and found them as usual to be freakishly entertaining. They're interesting, the freaks.

One of the interesting things about the more interesting freaks is that they say they all watch the same show and yet they seem to get such different things out of it. Some of the freaks were in full-on Best. Show. Ever. mode, and yet others have called for the ramp so that the shark jumping can commence (have I mentioned yet on the new blog how much I hate the term jump the shark? I do, you know. It's the quickest way to get me to tune you out if you're talking about television).

My favourite freaks, however, insist that you don't call me Shirley.

Yeah, more than a few of you (can two fans technically be a few?) know what I'm on about. For the rest of you I suggest you nod politely and move on.

Just like I'm about to do. I've got an owie on my finger, remember. You're lucky you got this much out of me.

[/martyr to the cause]

And you thought I was kidding?

This one's fresh off the camera as of about an hour ago.

The weather? Sucks.

You know, just in case you hadn't got that impression from my previous whinge.

----------

I'm not entirely sure that it's worth my typing anything more at this stage, because I'm suffering through another one of those normal people do actually sleep at night, you say? days. Sleep happened last night, yes, but unfortunately it was sleep with a two hour intermission in the middle. Not exactly the kind of thing that leaves you bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, OR ready to face anything but the possible murder of an otherwise innocent alarm clock.

I made it through the morning somewhat intact, but I'm predicting a big ol' mess of uselessness this afternoon.

I'm too tired even to be interestingly silly about it.




Ah well. Let's end on a note to the t.v. club, then. Wheat and I have watched the preview clip and agree that tonight's episode has the potential to be pleasantly messed up.

And don't worry (because I know you would). The pvr is already set to record just in case my brain chooses that particular time of day to see if it can figure out what exactly sleep is supposed to be good for.




Wheat, do you suppose anyone would notice if I spent the rest of the day curled up under my desk?

Chapter 85: Dee in a snit

I know: and this is different how?

Is it too early in the post for a shut up, world? Yeah, probably.

So why are we in a snit today, you ask? We, for those new to the program, would be Yours Blatheringly and alllll of the voices. And as far as asking, I'm just assuming you were polite enough to at least fake concern.

Anyway.

I could say I was in a snit because I'm working on a holiday Monday, but if I'm being honest I'd have to say that it doesn't really bother me to work a half day with very few people around. I could be in a snit because the stupid toad (and by the way, is there any other kind?) didn't eat all of its crickets so I'm currently being sung to in a very annoying fashion. That'd be sort of a pointless snit, but I'm good at those.

Today's snit, however, actually does have a point.

Did anyone guess from the photo?

Yes, we're snitting at the weather today. This photo's a few weeks old, but if what they're predicting comes into full fruition everything will be looking pretty much exactly like that by this time tomorrow.

Frig.

And you're perfectly welcome to translate that euphemism into its even more colourfully vulgar cousin. It's not like I'm praying to Norse gods here, after all.

I live in Alberta. It's not unusual to get spring snow. What is unusual (or at least frustrating) is to get storm after storm like this. The past few days' worth of wind managed to get rid of most of the last snowfall... just in time for our next ten centimetres.

It's all getting a little old, you know.

And yes, I do realise that this isn't the only part of the country (or even North America) that's been putting up with an extended winter. I know that, but I don't care.

It's all about me, remember.

And me is very, very put out.






Have you ever noticed that being put out never actually changes anything?

Somebody ought to do something about that someday.

Assorted sundries

And a mouse's behind.

Yes, I took a photo of a mouse's butt yesterday. I tried to go around to the other side to take a picture of its face as well, but by that time it was too nervous and left the bird feeder before I could focus.

And why was there a mouse in the bird feeder?

For the bird seed, of course. I would have thought that part was obvious.

----------

I was in the local liquidation place with my father yesterday, and ended up with about $35 worth of the usual junk. Usual for me would be things like shampoo, body wash, shelf-stable food (I'm a little leery of anything that doesn't have a date on it, to be honest) and at least one item of pointless kitchenware that only got picked up because it was incredibly cheap. In this case, it was a pizza cutter.

Everyone needs a new pizza cutter now and then.

My father is the king of discount shopping, as I think I've told you before. Any excuse is a good one to check out the bargains. All it took this time was a quick mention that I hadn't been down to the place for a while, and off we went.

I'm generally pretty good about just picking up the things I need when I go to a place like that (I absolutely did need that pizza cutter. And shut up, world). I'm not terribly apologetic about doing the liquidation thing either. For a large part of the year I make little enough money that any bit of saving can be important.

Besides, going to the liquidator can be incredibly entertaining.

I'm reasonably good at picking up just what I need, yes, but I get a real charge out of watching what the other shoppers are carrying around the store.

People will buy the weirdest things if there's a discount involved.

I don't have any interesting examples from yesterday, unfortunately, since everyone was acting almost painfully normal. I have in the past, however, seen women walking around with shopping baskets absolutely full to the top with cheap nail polish (first: who uses that much nail polish? Second: are you honestly going to walk around town in that delightful shade of Floozy Hooker 193?) or expired chocolate bars.

Women, yes. The men more often go for the paint and the cheap tools. Sorry for the stereotyping there, but I can only report what I actually see.

Discount stores make perfect places for instant psychology experiments, as far as I can see, and it's probably a good thing that I've never worked at one. You just know I'd be the one risking my job by purposely mispricing the most useless items in the store. You know: put the price up as high as you can to see if the snob factor kicks in (if it's that expensive in a place like this it must REALLY be worth something), lower the price to pennies to see how many unneeded somethings the average shopper can be tempted into... that kind of thing.

I could have way too much fun.

For a couple of days.






After that I imagine I'd be looking for other work.

It's still very tempting, though. Especially when I have the Spring From Hell to look forward to at my actual job.

Ah, but we'll leave that whinging for another time. Happy Easter to those of you of the Christian persuasion; happy long weekend to the rest of you. I'm outta here.

Abled

And another stupid icicle because the stupid snow covered everything that didn't look dead outside.

Did I mention that snow is stupid? It is in April, for sure.

----------

It's officially official. I'm enjoying the show Raines. So is my father, which I suppose indicates the insanity is genetic or something. At least the liking for completely screwed up lead characters must be.

Does this mean I have to start a new t.v. club?

I'm not sure I really want to share my wine gums.

----------

Today's post title (see? I did get to it eventually) has to do with a something that came up in that workshop thingy I was at earlier in the week. It was fairly tangential to what we were supposed to be doing, of course, but then with my short attention span it's just amazing that I wasn't distracting everyone in the room by drawing random pen lines all over my arms at that hour of the day.

Er, yeah. I'm five.

Anyway.

The point was made, briefly, that some people are touchy about the use of the word disabled. That's when I commented to Wheat (yep, Wheat was there putting up with my boredom) that if you followed what seems to be the definition of disabled to certain people, then I'm disabled.

Me and millions of others out there who... wear glasses.

Seriously, though. I wouldn't function in the modern world without the lenses. I wouldn't be able to drive, to use a computer without having the monitor a nose-length away from my face, to read signs... we can go on, but you get the picture. I probably wouldn't get the picture without my glasses, but there you go. Without specialised equipment (isn't that what glasses are?) I would have a very limited life.

I'd be disabled.






Is anyone buying into this argument? I'm not, but if I've convinced any of you then maybe there's something to it.

I hope not, though.

I suppose what I'm getting at is that too many of us are looking for excuses. There are people out there in the world who have very serious challenges in life, but then there are those who really need to start looking at what they can do rather than what they can't do.

Me, I'm a nearsighted astigmatic with a buggered-up ankle and a bad knee. Does that make me disabled? I doubt it. Maybe I can't run up the stairs, but I can still climb them. Plenty of people wouldn't be able to manage even that.

What about, say, left-handedness? It certainly puts me at a disadvantage when using most power tools. When I was in university it made it difficult to find a place to sit because the vast majority of lecture theatre desks have the writing surface on the right-hand side. There have been studies that show left-handers live shorter lives and are more likely to die or be badly injured in accidents. So is left-handedness a disability?

Of course not.

It sounds pretty silly to think that way at all, but it's not too far off from the way some people seem to see their own, relatively minor life problems.

Sometimes I think our PC world needs a great big dose of suck it up, princess.

Now, I'm not the world's most optimistic person (it's not a case of the glass being half full or half empty when the blamed thing obviously has a whopping great crack down the side) but even I can see that when I look at the big picture I have it pretty darned good. I'm able to earn a living. I can afford to eat and pay my rent. I have the luxury of whinging about whatever is bothering me while knowing that whatever is bothering me is NOT the end of the world.

Believe me, when it actually is the end of the world I'll tell you.

Repeatedly.

I'm not about to end this particular blather with a benediction or even a suggestion that we all go out and count our positives. That's completely not me. I'll just say that maybe it might be a good idea if we all took a second away from the usual complaining to realise that there are far more abled moments in an average day then there are disabled ones.

After that you can go back to the whining if you like. I know I probably will.





There wouldn't be many words on this blog if I didn't, after all.

Pointless photo of the day:

And, in an unusual move for Yours Blatheringly, it's completely uncropped and uncorrected. This is the photo as it came off of the camera.

Well, I did rotate it a bit so you wouldn't have to stand on your collective head. I'm nice that way.

The subject matter ticks me off too much to make me want to comment on it, but the picture's here nonetheless.

Before I go any further I should state that I currently have a headache. Not a bad one, but I expect it'll make me sound like I'm in a worse mood than I really am. There's your warning.

----------

As I sit here I'm being stared at by an electronic eye. It's not on, but I still feel like I'm being stared at.

You see, my father recently picked up a webcam so that he can talk to his grandson. Or rather, to my brother. As far as I know, the nephew isn't quite so clever as to be nattering away at the ripe old age of four months. I would imagine, then, that the conversation will consist of my brother sitting there with the baby on his knee, making him wave and trying to keep his fingers off of the screen and the keyboard.

And when that's not happening, I get to be stared at dumbly by the plastic spy.

For anyone thinking that this will lead to pictures of The Blatherer ending up here on the blog, the response is no bloody way. If I'd wanted a photo of me to grace the pointlessness it would have been here a looong time ago. I'm perfectly capable of pointing the real camera at myself and clicking away, as certain people out there in the actual world can attest.

I don't happen to want a shot of me here, that's all.

Those who visited the old blog can tell you that various body parts (or photos of them, at any rate) were posted there whenever I was too bored to take "creative" shots of the icicles on my balcony or the occasional spider. It's not like I'm shy about being seen.

In fact, it seems to me that I once gave Wheat a bit of a start by posting a close-up of one of my eyes without warning him first. Good times, good times.

I just don't think you should have the desire to see all of me at once, that's all.

Part of it's a privacy thing, admittedly. I'm under no illusion that I'm unfindable (anyone who thinks they can't be tracked down via their internet footprints is too naive to be on the internet), but I don't feel the need to share more of myself with the cyberworld than I have to.

There's another reason for the lack of self-portraiture, though.

My two fans (I mean, the fraction of you who don't already know me in that alternate dimension known as Real Life) probably have a mental picture of me from reading the blatherings. Some of it might come from the occasional description I sneak in there, but a lot of it comes straight from your imagination even if you don't think it does.

I like that.

I like the fact that, in your minds, I look just as you'd expect me to. I like it that, even if you're incredibly mistaken, you're probably comfortable with the picture of me that you've created.

It kind of puts a different spin on being all things to all people, don't you think?

For the most part, I try to be truthful in what gets posted to the blog. I don't make stuff up. What you read here is me... or as much of me as I'm willing to put into a pointless blog. I'm not posing as anything, or trying to prove anything, or hoping to enlist you to a cause. It's all just silly things that occur to me on the spur of the moment.

Even with that, it creates a different me for everyone who winds up reading it.

That's cool.





And do you really think I want to spoil the effect with an unflattering webcam photo?

Nope.








I'm really going to have to put a box over that thing to get it to stop looking at me.

Don't even.

Don't even what? Oh, I don't know. How about:
- ask me how things are going
- ask me to do anything else
- put anything else on my desk
- look at me the wrong way unless you want to be sorry at some point

Yeah, I suppose that might cover it. More or less.

I'm having a day.

I'm also posting yet another pointless flower photo from last year because it hurts my brain to look out and see snow. I'm allowed to be in a snit about the snow, you know. That's the rules.

Whose rules?

My rules.

Shut up, anyway. I told you I was having a day.

And one of the crickets that the toad hasn't found yet is currently singing at the top of its creepy little... erm... legs. At the moment it would be well within my capabilities to find a hammer and fix that problem.






In case anyone was wondering, I am off tomorrow...

Not yet, though. Back to work for me. Pretty sad when a half-assed rant to a pointless blog is what passes for a coffee break in my world, don't you think? Ah well. Call it blowing off a little steam so that I don't injure any of my coworkers. I'm sure they all appreciate it.

See you later.

A course is a course, of course of course

My apologies to any Mr. Ed fans.

So here's the deal. I'm out of the office for most of the day at a course... er, seminar... um, workshop... Well, I'm off doing something or other at any rate. I think.

Yeah, like I think in the morning. Good one.

In any case, that equals no post from me today. Erm... except for this one, naturally.





Whatever. See you tomorrow.

Hello, sick people

Don't worry. The t.v. club understands the title. Or at least they should, because if they don't they've just become a ginormous (is too a word) disappointment to me.

And I know they wouldn't do that.

----------

Today's pointless photo is a protest (and here you probably thought it was a gazania). Protesting what? Well, as I look out the window right now (and believe me, it ain't easy to do that and type at the same time. Or type and make sense, that is. I could type random letters and look out the window with no trouble at all) I see an admittedly beautiful, picture-postcard January day. Do you know why that might be a problem?

IT ISN'T EFFING JANUARY.

Just saying.



stupid weather

----------

I'm afraid I have nothing but a headache and wet shoes at the moment (did I mention the SNOW? DID I? HUH?), but I always feel like it's a cheat to say that when I've been deblogged for a couple of days. The couple of days, by the way, was just me being unexpectedly without a computer. And thanks to the Toronto office for stepping into the breach.

Or whatever.

Headache, remember? Doesn't lead to the height of lucidity.

Anyway, I have very little to go on about. I was going to ask if anyone else out there has seen Raines yet, but since I haven't even had the chance to watch my recording of last Friday's episode I suppose it would be silly to bring up the subject. What I've seen of it so far I like, though. Even if it is probably only because Jeff Goldblum sort of intrigues me.

He's just so...

well...

um...

Jeff Goldblum-y. There's no other way to describe it.

Maybe I'll get a chance to watch the next episode a little closer to its actual air date, and we can talk about Raines then.

Or not.





Makes no difference to me either way.

I think I'll stop typing now, if that's ok with everyone.

Pointless post

I've really and truly got nothin' ....





..... so choose your own topic from - ready? - column A.

Who stole the first quarter of my year?

Today's entry is a scratch and sniff. Now this works best if you use the thumb nail of your left hand. Go on. I can wait.

You'll experience the soggy dog odour one experiences after a walk in the pouring rain. And it is. Pouring rain I mean.

This particular pup proves that indeed Labs do have a double-coat which is to say we're taking bets on whether she'll sink in deep water due to the sheer volume of her coat.

And what a joy to dry off. While her sister shakes and dries in less than five minutes, this one takes at least 20 minutes just to towel down. We used to flat-iron her coat after she was dry but now the natural curl is just allowed to come through as she air-dries.

Ah, springtime. As I sit here listening to the gentle rain ... pounding on my window ... there is also the sound of thunder in the distance. Hence lightning around us perhaps. Seems a sensible time to post and turn the computer off, doesn't it.

I think so too.

I remember in earlier years speaking and typing in complete sentences, with proper grammar and everything. Yep, those days are totally in the past.