8 Random Facts About Me

Have you ever met a barefoot kilt-wearing Viking? I have. His name is Brett and he blogs at 6 weeks. Brett tagged me to come up with eight random facts about myself, a challenge he’s already tackled. This one’s making the rounds! Read all the way to the bottom and see if I tagged YOU.

1. I Have Poetry Disorder

Something happens to me when I’m reading and writing a lot of poetry. I start thinking in rhymes, and various poetic devices like alliteration and meter start making random appearances in the pieces I write, from blog posts to notes scrawled in my journal. I actually feel that my love affair with poetry makes me a better writer.

2. We are Gemini

I have the same birthday as musical genius and gyrating 80s superstar Prince. I, however, am not a musical genius although I do love music. In fact, I’m a music whore. I’d love to share some of my musical tastes with you but we’d be here all day. Let’s just say I can pretty much guarantee there’s something in my music collection that you love. And something you’ve never heard. And probably a song you’re tired of hearing, and one they were playing while you were dancing on the bar…

3. Get off the Bar. It’s My Turn.

I have been known to dance on a bar. I’ve also danced on stage, on tables (including a pool table), in a window in front of hundreds of people, and you can frequently find me dancing around my house for no particular reason. I’ve even been paid to dance. No, I am not and have never been a stripper (I was a go go dancer and I wore a t-shirt and jeans, thank you very much!). Actually, I am quite modest and pretty shy in person, particularly with people I don’t know well but there’s this other woman that lives inside me and she’s a total ham on the dance floor.

4. That Girl Who Doesn’t Talk

I have been called shy, aloof, and slow to warm. When I’m in the company of strangers I become very withdrawn and observant. In fact, I was known at one of my former jobs for being the girl who didn’t talk for a whole year (I really don’t think it was that long but that’s what they tell me). Of course, they told me this after I’d settled in and starting hamming it up with everyone around the water cooler. Once I get to know you, the shy girl will disappear and that’s when I will ask you if you’d like to go out and dance on some bars with me.

5. I Believe You Believe

I love to study and learn about different religions. I have no idea where this fascination with belief systems originated but about once a year or so, I get the bug to research some religion or other. I have discovered that most people enjoy talking about what they believe especially when they know exactly what it is that they believe. There are others who seem uncertain about their beliefs and these are always the ones that prefer to talk about something (anything) else. Don’t worry, I have good manners. It’s not like I go around interviewing people to find out which god they worship but if the subject comes up, I’m always down for a discussion. It’s also a great way to learn about and connect with people from different cultures.

6. There’s This Thing I Love About America

I’m not a patriotic freak by any means but there’s definitely one thing I absolutely love about living in the United States (o.k. there are a few things but this one is the most important). It’s a melting pot. I don’t know how melted other countries’ pots are, but I have had the pleasure of working, living, and becoming friends with people from all over the world. I am ever grateful that I’ve gotten to know all these people because it’s helped me build a positive and more realistic world view. What I’ve learned is that people are all basically the same in their hearts.

7. I Love Animals

I try to be mellow about it, but I’m one of those animal lovers who spends loads of dough on her pets and rallies for animal welfare whenever I get a chance. My special passion is the No Kill movement, which seeks to end killing in animal shelters. Forget what you’ve heard, this type of killing is completely unnecessary (even though shelters and many animal rights organizations want you to believe it’s somehow YOUR fault). Wanna talk about it? Email me. Better yet, read Nathan Winograd’s groundbreaking book Redemption.

8. I’m a Geek but I’m a Cool Geek

I like nerdy things like computers, RPGs, and Star Wars. On the other hand, I have been known to dance on a bar. In short, I am a paradox. One minute I’m hip and savvy and the next minute I’m geeking out on you so hard you’re wondering where I’ve misplaced my taped coke bottle glasses and pocket protector. Life as a contrary girl can be challenging. The cool kids appreciate your ability to consume large amounts of ale but they can’t understand what this has to do with content management systems. The geeks, on the other hand, love that you can quote obscure lines from NBC’s Heroes but they hate the fact that you’ve also memorized the story lines from every episode of Sex and City.

And Now, Back to You

Now I’m supposed to tag eight people but most of the bloggers I know have already been hit with this one. And, well, the whole tagging meme thing makes me kind of squirm around in my chair. I play along like a good sport but I’m going to be a snot and change the rules and tag everyone who is still reading this silly, self-indulgent post.

The Watson-Guptill Fickle Writer

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These days, writers use computers for writing. But most will admit there’s still something about good old-fashioned pen and paper that just gets creativity flowing. It’s difficult to brainstorm on a computer, or jot down notes and random thoughts, and it’s almost impossible to doodle in the margins.

Over the years, I’ve collected hordes of journals and notebooks. Some of them are pretty and whimsical. Others are simple and functional. I always go through lots of spiral notebooks for business but when it comes to creative writing, I have learned (the hard way) that I have pretty basic but specific needs that my journal must fulfill.

It has to be hardbound so it can withstand lots of use. It can’t be too big or too small. Something in the 5×8 inch range is just right. The paper must be archival quality because there’s less yellowing and tearing with higher quality paper.

Most importantly, the pages have to be unlined. I like to doodle and draw when the mood strikes. Occasionally, I write sideways, upside down, or even in circles (a technique for breaking through writer’s block). Sure, I can brainstorm and mind-map right over a line-ruled page, but why should I? Those lines are inhibiting and I need creative freedom. So there is only one journal for me: the Watson-Guptill Sketchbook. And the more I use these sketchbooks for my journaling, the more I love them.

The best thing about the Watson-Guptill is that if you are an artist and a writer, or someone who likes to paste photos or clippings into your journals, these are perfect because the pages thick and unlined.

The Watson-Guptill Sketchbooks come in several different colors including red, black, green, and purple. I’ve got one in every color! They are 5.5 by 8.5 inches and contain archival-quality paper. You can also get a larger size (about 8×10 inch) and landscape-oriented editions.

I know that writers love to rave about Moleskines. My confession for today is that I’ve never owned one. I’m not even sure I’ve seen one in a store. One of these days, I’ll get one and do a little comparative analysis but for now, I’m sticking with Watson-Guptill because I’m just a fickle writer like that.

What’s your favorite journal or notebook?

Snow Crash by Neal Stephenson

Do you ever feel like strapping on a couple of samurai swords and diving headfirst into a parallel universe where pizza delivery is a life or death occupation? Interested in leaping onto a skateboard that can scale bushes and latch onto speeding cars? Have you ever wanted to go head-to-head with a nuclear missile-toting ogre who has more strength in his pinky than the entire Justice League combined?

Get a copy of Snow Crash and your dreams will soon be realized.

This book was recommended to me several years ago by a co-worker who also happened to be a fellow fan of science fiction. I finally got around to buying a copy a couple of months back. I read the first chapter after a very long, hard day and it totally fried my brain. I put it down and didn’t give it a second chance for almost a month.

I only continued reading because it had come so highly recommended. And boy, am I glad! At first, there’s a lot of new vocabulary to absorb. As with most science fiction, the story is set in a pretty unfamiliar world, but what a world it is! Stephenson’s imaginings are not only insanely clever, some of them are spot-on predictions of the future when read in retrospect.

Originally published in 1992, just before the big Internet boom, Stephenson obviously wrote this book long before the full potential of the Web had been realized, so it’s uncanny how he describes the Metaverse. It’s very much like today’s Internet except its version of Second Life is called the Street and has clean, perfect funtionality. Throughout the course of my reading, I was amazed at Stephenson’s foresight (trust me, you will be amazed too). I desperately want to get my hands on his futuristic badass computer equipment.

Hiro Protagonist is the enigmatic lead character. His nature reveals slowly over the course of the story and you’ll have to read to the end to really decide whether he’s a bad guy or a good guy. Hiro is one of the last freelance hackers and most talented swordsman in the world. YT is the charismatic fly-in-your face sidekick with more attitude than a band of Harley riding Hells Angels. You’ll love her instantly but at the same time, she’ll kind of insult you and leave you questioning your coolness factor. And there’s more, tons of colorful characters that are simultaneously over-the-top crazy and so real that you think you might bump into one of them on the street tomorrow, or perhaps next week.

This cyberpunk novel is well-spiced with black humor and subtle commentaries about politics, culture, and social structure. Meanwhile it makes screaming observations about capitalism and corporate America. From the Wikipedia entry on Snow Crash: “Like many of Stephenson’s other novels it contains references to history, linguistics, anthropology, archaeology, religion, computer science, politics, cryptography, and philosophy.”

Until a man is twenty-five, he still thinks, every so often, that under the right circumstances he could be the baddest motherfucker in the world. If I moved to a martial-arts monastery in China and studied real hard for ten years. If my family was wiped out by Colombian drug dealers and I swore myself to revenge. If I got a fatal disease, had one year to live, devoted it to wiping out street crime. If I just dropped out and devoted my life to being bad.

Hiro used to feel that way, too, but then he ran into Raven.

-Excerpt from Neal Stephenson’s Snow Crash

So what, exactly, is a snow crash? You’ll have to read the book to find out. When you do, come back here and let’s talk about it!

Jeff Buckley: Grace (Album)

Last week, when Jason Castro sang “Hallelujah” on American Idol, I was astounded by the beauty of his performance, but also inspired by the beauty of the song. Frankly, the whole thing was a little raw compared to what Idol normally serves up. Fortunately, I have a huge appetite for music: I like it raw, rugged, processed, whatever. I’m a junkie.

I knew I’d heard the song before, and I was surprised that the singer didn’t come to mind immediately, because I’m a walking music encyclopedia. So, when Simon let it slip that the song was by Jeff Buckley, a bell went off in my head. “Hey, that’s my friend Jaden’s favorite singer!” Despite that fact that Buckley is so beloved by my good friend, I really haven’t been exposed to much of his music, so I hopped online and read about him. It turns out that the song Jason Castro performed, “Hallelujah,” was actually a Leonard Cohen original, but I was intrigued by Buckley’s biography, and what the critics had to say about him. I listened to a snippet of Cohen’s version and a snippet of Buckley’s and determined that Buckley’s was the one I was familiar with, and the artist I wanted to explore in greater depth.

Nowadays, we live in a 99¢ song culture. Over the last few years, it’s been rare for me to purchase an entire album versus just downloading a song or two. But I splurged because Buckley seemed worth it. And I wasn’t disappointed.

Grace is an album of haunting beauty, enchanting melodies, and soul-stirring rhythms. Buckley’s voice is simply angelic. Actually, angelic doesn’t begin to describe the total grace and nirvana that is Jeff Buckley’s voice. Although each track stands alone, and “Hallelujah” remains my favorite, the songs come together as one to form an album that is both moving and somehow rebellious, soulful and edgy. Put simply, the entire collection is contrary to itself, and paradoxical in that it manages to be one thing (pure) and the complete opposite (dirty) simultaneously. I love it.

Buckley gave us music that manages to be classy yet unclassifiable, for this album defies genre or label. Is it rock? Folk? Classical? I’d say it’s musical magic, but that’s too cheesy a description for work of this caliber. Buckley makes an electric guitar sound like an angel’s harp and it’s heartbreaking that we lost this young artist, who surely would have filled our ears with his sweet refrains for years to come. I will continue to listen to this album and hope that Jeff Buckley’s music reaches out and inspires a new generation of songsters, and I’m grateful that Idol (however lame you think that show is) has brought attention to Jeff Buckley and his awe-inspiring work.

When Freedom Rang - A Story of Startup Failure

Today marks one full year since I’ve worked for somebody else. It was precisely 365 days ago that I arrived at work and learned that the company had gone completely out of business. Spent all the money. Didn’t turn a profit. Deep in the red. Over. Done. Goodbye.

Some people, when they lose their job, get stressed out and even depressed. Not me. I was relieved. Let me tell you something about companies that go under. They die. And it’s a slow, painful death. Such an organization succumbs to a disease and that disease is called failure. It reaches out and infects everyone in the company, all its employees, vendors, customers, investors. You can smell the tension and uncertainty as employees become concerned about whether they’ll have a paycheck next month, and there’s an uneasiness in the way everyone talks about the future — next week’s meetings, next month’s product launch, next summer’s industry convention — there’s always an “if” dangling from their lips, as in “if we’re still around.”

Usually everyone knows long before the closure that it’s a looming possibility. It helps to know in advance, because then you have the option of getting a head start on the job search, planning your vacation, or scheduling your upcoming daytime TV lineup. I had about a two-week warning, and that was more than enough. It was a startup company, and I understood the risks involved. It was one of the reasons I had been so eager to take the job in the first place. Startups are exciting, there are tons of opportunities for upward mobility and employees who get in early stand to make a pretty penny through stock options if such a company succeeds. Sadly, they rarely do. If the company fails, then you collect your unemployment and move on. I can be melodramatic and sometimes I overreact, but I’ve worked for two companies that went under and both times I felt like someone had just cut my shackles and I didn’t shed a single tear.

Since I’d been through a startup failure before, I knew what to expect and what to look for.

The signs were all there: upper management starts to disappear one by one, some find work elsewhere because they know the end is near, others get laid off or even fired. They tell you it’s restructuring but it’s really a final desperate attempt to downsize and cut back costs. Workers start perusing the Internet relentlessly as the projects coming down the pipeline slim considerably. A bunch of monitors display glimpses of Craigslist and Monster before their users abruptly minimize the window, realizing that someone’s watching. Managers take long lunches and come back to the office drunk. People stand around, spend most of the day chattering or whispering behind their cubicle walls. Everyone starts coming in late and leaving early. Gossip reaches an all time high, and the thread of decency that makes office professionals behave politely toward one another, even when they loathe each other — well that thread snaps.

It’s awkward to enter a company just before it goes down.

I’d only been there for about seven months, so when the ship started sinking, I hadn’t even settled in yet. I’m what you’d call slow to warm. As a result, I had never really felt comfortable, although I enjoyed the work I did, and loved the products we were making. I found it difficult to relate to most of the people who worked there, although there were a few that I liked and got along with, and I had a cool boss. But I just didn’t quite fit in. I might have, given another few months, but unfortunately, there just wasn’t enough time for me to feel like myself in that place.

It didn’t help matters that I had to sit by a crazy girl who suffered from illusions of grandeur — a curiously evil individual who had a special dislike for me because I refused to let her push me around. She sat there all day slinging veiled and catty insults at me.

I was my own little island, and I often reminisced about my previous job, where I had loved — make that adored — everyone I worked with.

If there’s one thing I know about working in the corporate environment, it’s this: pay matters and the work matters too, but nothing has a greater impact on your workplace happiness than the people you are surrounded by. That’s how it is for me, anyway. With all the tension, my discomfort, and crazy Jane sitting two feet away, going to work every day was less than joyous.

So when I showed up one March morning and found a sign on the front door announcing the company’s termination, I wanted to get on my knees and give thanks to the universe for setting me free. Once inside, I did experience a brief moment of regret, a twinge of nostalgia for what could have been. My boss asked, “What will you do?” My response was completely unplanned, “I think I’m going to start freelance writing.” While the idea had crossed my mind, it wasn’t something I’d considered seriously, and I was a little surprised to hear my own answer. I just never want to sit in a damn cubicle again, I thought, and walked out the door.

And here I am, one year later - a full time freelance writer and web publisher. Granted, it took me about six months to recover and get my little business going, but I did it. Now I’m my own boss and I get to decide who I sit next to. Usually, it’s my cat. Hey, it’s a writer’s life.

So when you get laid off, or the company sinks, know that it’s probably going to lead to much better things. Look at it as an opportunity to take the reins of your life and ride down a better path. That might sound cheesy but it’s true. I’m living proof.

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