Don't tell anyone I work for, but I'm dreadful at multi-tasking. One-track mind, that's me. Can I accomplish many things at once? Yes. But not if you keep (that was one right there, someone had a question) interrupting me.
I really hate being interrupted. Watch, it will happen again before I even finish typing this sentence. . . ok, that time I got away without one, but (oh, there we go - had to send someone a fax) it won't last (and, as you note, didn't).
On the up side, today a school kid who came to see my children's show liked the show and gave me a purple rubber bracelet that says "Heluhelu" on it. What does that mean, I asked this very sweet girl. "I dunno," she said, with the classic kid I'm-not-supposed-to-know shrug, and then her friend flashed a sneaky little smile and said, "But it means you need to read eight books over the summer." Done. I was tricked into it but I'll make that commitment. I wonder if I can manage it without trying or whether it will take a little effort.
Wednesday, May 25, 2005
Thursday, May 19, 2005
Bring it On
Ok, people, I'm ready. I can handle it. I will even welcome it. Go ahead and . . . post a comment. When I started this shindig, I was doing it much like a bad yet enthusiastic dancer risks a few tentative shimmies in a dark corner of a crowded floor. I thought, I'll write myself a few snippets and hope no one ever goes looking for them.
But I find I like the comments. (Thanks to the two of you - I know who you are.) So, if you are one of the handful of people who ever take a look at this page, I invite you to join the fun. I will even challenge you to a) come up with your own Missed Connections ad, b) Offer your own personal rant subject, or c) write a haiku praising your favorite food. I had a co-worker who had a sideline in Spam haiku, see if you can top that.
Try it, people! Hey, I could ask you for money, but I just want your thoughts. So much cheaper.
(Also, it's very uncool, but I still love Oasis. I can't help it. I try to stop but the backbeat gets me. Please don't tell anyone. Well, anyone else.)
But I find I like the comments. (Thanks to the two of you - I know who you are.) So, if you are one of the handful of people who ever take a look at this page, I invite you to join the fun. I will even challenge you to a) come up with your own Missed Connections ad, b) Offer your own personal rant subject, or c) write a haiku praising your favorite food. I had a co-worker who had a sideline in Spam haiku, see if you can top that.
Try it, people! Hey, I could ask you for money, but I just want your thoughts. So much cheaper.
(Also, it's very uncool, but I still love Oasis. I can't help it. I try to stop but the backbeat gets me. Please don't tell anyone. Well, anyone else.)
Wednesday, May 11, 2005
I'm not addicted, I'm not
So I'm reading craigslist again...but this time I Know When To Stop! It's almost immediately, before the poor grammar or misanthropy get to me. I thought I would love the missed connections section, as that's a favorite of mine in the Reader, but no, somehow today it doesn't strike me.
I love Missed Connections. There's something so desperate, yet so hopeful, about it. I doubt anyone finds the person they are looking for, partly because I suspect most missed connections are completely forgotten by one of the parties said to be connecting. If you're as hot as the ad claims, are you combing ads to see if someone noticed you? Do you remember the geeky guy/girl that tried to catch your eye but was TOO CHICKEN to say anything?
But if you come across the Missed Connections section, there's a part of you that can't help looking for yourself, to see if you made an impression on someone.
I used to laugh at the ads that gave very little information, as if the connectee were fortune telling, keeping the edges vague to ensure the info could be interpreted multiple directions. "We were on the El, I wore a black jacket, you had on a hat. Call me." ?? But it occurred to me that many people don't even mind if they find THE person (there might not be a person), they're just looking for people, casting their fishing line out upon the waters, and missed connections is their excuse.
The most memorable one I've yet read was a study in transparent pretense. "I missed your ad a few weeks ago. You said you look like Juliet Binoche but what really interested me was that your favorite movie was North by Northwest." Riiiiiiigggghhhttt. So if she'd said she looked like Ann Widdicombe* or Janet Reno but still liked NbNW, you'd still be trying to find her?
The ones I love the best are so specific that either the writer really did see someone or they're working really hard and constructing their perfect person, either of which I can appreciate.
"We met at a party - you were wearing a purple ribbon on your belt loop, I asked you what prize you had won. I wore glasses and a shirt that said "What Would Jesus Do for a Klondike Bar?". You told me your favorite flower was daffodils; I grabbed some out of the neighbor's yard for you. We talked about Jack Russell terriers and Jane Russell, but I was distracted by the shine of your green eyes. You rushed off at midnight but lost one of your sandals. I have it. Wanta talk some more?"
You can believe in an ad like that, that indeed, a connection was made, and that maybe both people wanted more and didn't get it, and perhaps this ad will be the way that they find each other and regret will shift to elation.
* As I researched Ann Widdicombe to make sure I had spelled her name right, I see her image has improved vastly. So this seems a touch unfair. Apologies to you Widdicombe fans. The blonde hair is quite attractive.
I love Missed Connections. There's something so desperate, yet so hopeful, about it. I doubt anyone finds the person they are looking for, partly because I suspect most missed connections are completely forgotten by one of the parties said to be connecting. If you're as hot as the ad claims, are you combing ads to see if someone noticed you? Do you remember the geeky guy/girl that tried to catch your eye but was TOO CHICKEN to say anything?
But if you come across the Missed Connections section, there's a part of you that can't help looking for yourself, to see if you made an impression on someone.
I used to laugh at the ads that gave very little information, as if the connectee were fortune telling, keeping the edges vague to ensure the info could be interpreted multiple directions. "We were on the El, I wore a black jacket, you had on a hat. Call me." ?? But it occurred to me that many people don't even mind if they find THE person (there might not be a person), they're just looking for people, casting their fishing line out upon the waters, and missed connections is their excuse.
The most memorable one I've yet read was a study in transparent pretense. "I missed your ad a few weeks ago. You said you look like Juliet Binoche but what really interested me was that your favorite movie was North by Northwest." Riiiiiiigggghhhttt. So if she'd said she looked like Ann Widdicombe* or Janet Reno but still liked NbNW, you'd still be trying to find her?
The ones I love the best are so specific that either the writer really did see someone or they're working really hard and constructing their perfect person, either of which I can appreciate.
"We met at a party - you were wearing a purple ribbon on your belt loop, I asked you what prize you had won. I wore glasses and a shirt that said "What Would Jesus Do for a Klondike Bar?". You told me your favorite flower was daffodils; I grabbed some out of the neighbor's yard for you. We talked about Jack Russell terriers and Jane Russell, but I was distracted by the shine of your green eyes. You rushed off at midnight but lost one of your sandals. I have it. Wanta talk some more?"
You can believe in an ad like that, that indeed, a connection was made, and that maybe both people wanted more and didn't get it, and perhaps this ad will be the way that they find each other and regret will shift to elation.
* As I researched Ann Widdicombe to make sure I had spelled her name right, I see her image has improved vastly. So this seems a touch unfair. Apologies to you Widdicombe fans. The blonde hair is quite attractive.
Wednesday, May 04, 2005
Eventually it palls
So I made a mistake. I can admit it. I started reading Craig's List "Best of". Yes, it's fairly amusing, and yes, I'm certain reading it as opposed to reading a whole category of posts weeds out a lot of crazy rantings and poor grammar. But eventually, I came up against people who, while I support their right to be as different from myself as possible, I just wouldn't want to spend any time with.
Particularly troubling to me this afternoon are the incredibly mysogynistic men. Really, for them, women aren't individuals at all, merely variations on a stereotype that has been cobbled together from all the women who wouldn't have sex with them at the exact time and position they desired.
Now, I'm trying to be fair here. (Why bother? you ask. Because I don't want to become the thing I hate.)
I know, I should have a sense of humor about it. But I always think the gender war is largely constructed. No, I don't want to argue that men and women are exactly the same. But isn't it a huge disservice to all to assume men merely want to hit things and have sex every moment (hit things and "hit" things, I suppose) while women just want to cuddle and put on lipstick? Couldn't we all take a moment to remember that individuals exist? After all, who in their right mind actually wants a picket fence? And yet that's the symbol of the stereotypical American dream. But hardly anyone has them! (They're a bitch to paint and it's easy for kids to steal the pickets, so your fence is like a smile missing teeth.)
There are a lot of people out there who don't fit your idea of who they are, and thank goodness. How boring would it be if everyone did? So, thank you, mysogynistic man, for showing me that people can be mean, petty, lacking in self-awareness and devoid of empathy for anyone else. Because the moment I realized that, I was grateful for the kind, sexy, caring men I have encountered, one of whom I currently date, and who allows me to be whatever I wish, whether it fits into his stereotype or not.
Particularly troubling to me this afternoon are the incredibly mysogynistic men. Really, for them, women aren't individuals at all, merely variations on a stereotype that has been cobbled together from all the women who wouldn't have sex with them at the exact time and position they desired.
Now, I'm trying to be fair here. (Why bother? you ask. Because I don't want to become the thing I hate.)
I know, I should have a sense of humor about it. But I always think the gender war is largely constructed. No, I don't want to argue that men and women are exactly the same. But isn't it a huge disservice to all to assume men merely want to hit things and have sex every moment (hit things and "hit" things, I suppose) while women just want to cuddle and put on lipstick? Couldn't we all take a moment to remember that individuals exist? After all, who in their right mind actually wants a picket fence? And yet that's the symbol of the stereotypical American dream. But hardly anyone has them! (They're a bitch to paint and it's easy for kids to steal the pickets, so your fence is like a smile missing teeth.)
There are a lot of people out there who don't fit your idea of who they are, and thank goodness. How boring would it be if everyone did? So, thank you, mysogynistic man, for showing me that people can be mean, petty, lacking in self-awareness and devoid of empathy for anyone else. Because the moment I realized that, I was grateful for the kind, sexy, caring men I have encountered, one of whom I currently date, and who allows me to be whatever I wish, whether it fits into his stereotype or not.
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