I’m wondering, out loud as it were, how working as an editor might affect my writing. Any of my writing friends, do you work, or have you ever worked, as an editor? Editing is in the right field, and I don’t think it will hurt my actual writing, but I’m curious if it will affect it at all. Will I get so tired of prose that I won’t want to write my own? Will it help me think about writing more often, and give me an itch to make my own?
Anyway, these are the things I’m pondering lately. I can’t give many details. It’s fair to say, however, that it’s not idle musings, but rather legitimate ponder fodder.
I am not a NASCAR fan. At all. However, my 8 year old daughter went through the trouble of searching through the entire “school store” to find a coffee mug (which I do like) that said #1 Dad. We live in northern Michigan, which is a fairly redneck locale, and so the only option she had was NASCAR. I am pleased to say that she didn’t even know what NASCAR was, and got the cup merely on it’s #1 Dad merit.
I cherish this cup.
Now, NASCAR? Not so much. Don’t get me wrong, I think I’d enjoy driving a race car. I also think I’d do very well, right up to the point that I wrecked in a fiery inferno. There is this tiny little Neanderthal in me that comes out when I’m driving things like 4-wheelers, snowmobiles, dirt bikes, and I think race cars. I drive them like an absolute maniac. There’s a rather interesting story that I’ll tell someday that involves me breaking my back on a 4-wheeler…
BUT, watching NASCAR is about the lamest, most boring “sport” I could ever imagine. If you are a NASCAR fan, and you’re reading this, please explain the joy you get from it. Because apart from my coffee mug — it just doesn’t do anything for me.
UPDATE: Apparently, “NASCAR” must be shouted, and needs to be spelled in all caps. I’ve corrected my silly ignorance. (at least my silly ignorance in this matter)
I have many geeky friends. That probably doesn’t surprise anyone. This morning, one of them (I’ll leave his identity concealed, to save face) instant messaged me the link to a site he wanted me to check out. That site was password protected, and with the link, he simply wrote, “Speak friend, and enter.”
Cool.
So, I proceeded to type “mellon” as the username and password. It didn’t work, so I tried, “Mellon” which didn’t work either. Then I tried, “melon” which is really elvish for “I Love” but could easily been confused. Nope. “Melon”? Nope.
Frustrated, I turned to google, to check my spelling, and I couldn’t find any other spellings. So, defeated, I IM’d him back, “Ok, how did you spell ‘Mellon’ ?”
To which he replied, “What is Mellon?”
I chuckled at myself, typed “friend” as the username and password, and got right in. It’s not the first time I’ve been the geekiest person in the room, and I’m sure it won’t be the last…
Ok, I read this on Digg — but it’s frustrating enough that I feel the need to repost it.
Sitting at your desk, lift your right foot and make clockwise circles. While doing this, draw the number “6″ in the air with your right hand. Your foot direction will change to counter-clockwise, and you’ll quickly go insane. I’m sorry to be the one that leads you to the nut house, but misery loves company.
We had a meltdown with our school lunch POS system. Yep, POS. It also stands for point of sale. It’s that black monitor/computer job in the photo. (Click to embiggen)
Anyway, hundreds of kids that want to eat, lunch lady frantically trying to figure out who has money in their account, who gets what, who paid for what, how much X costs, etc, etc. I’ve been scrambling to get this Windows 98 based embedded system to work. I’ve cannibalized 2 laptops, and literally taped together a makeshift USB cd drive to get the thing working. I’m almost there. Oh, and a Windows 98 CDROM to install from? Yeah, right. I had to use “questionable” methods to retrieve one. Hopefully it’s not a trojan.
Not fun.
At all.
There is a certain bloggy funness that I’m missing as well, which bums me out immensely. My plans to participate have been HiJacked. *sigh*
UPDATE: Ok, I played a bit. Now my brain is tired. And confused. lol…
I have nothing to entertain you. Not even a crafty quip. I’ll leave you with a picture of my current naughtiness, however. Don’t tell anyone, because I’m supposed to be on a diet.
That’s right, Dots. And not just Dots, but Tropical Dots. Yum.
Please, if you have the ability, consider installing THIS plugin. It’s that thing I have that notifies you via email when someone comments on a post you’ve commented on.
Since Blogger added the feature, I find myself depending on it in order to follow the location of conversations. If I’ve left you hanging on a thread somewhere, it’s just because I’ve forgotten where the conversation lives! Since I usually only go to everyone’s site from my Google feed reader (via that AWESOME “next unread” bookmarklet feature), I rarely get back to a conversation that doesn’t notify me of updates.
Ok, that’s it. Please return to your normally scheduled weekend.
I am not a NASCAR fan. At all. However, my 8 year old daughter went through the trouble of searching through the entire “school store” to find a coffee mug (which I do like) that said #1 Dad. We live in northern Michigan, which is a fairly redneck locale, and so the only option she had was NASCAR. I am pleased to say that she didn’t even know what NASCAR was, and got the cup merely on it’s #1 Dad merit.
I have many geeky friends. That probably doesn’t surprise anyone. This morning, one of them (I’ll leave his identity concealed, to save face) instant messaged me the link to a site he wanted me to check out. That site was password protected, and with the link, he simply wrote, “Speak friend, and enter.”
Ok, I read this on Digg — but it’s frustrating enough that I feel the need to repost it.
