Killing two...

Whoever came up with that phrase, "killing two birds with one stone?" Why would you want to stone a bird to death? Isn't it awful? We should come up with something better, like "making two pies in one mixing bowl."

In any case, you might start to see some weird entries here. I've registered on the site 43things. Those who know me well can confirm that I can't actually set my own goals without a gimmick. And a high-tech gimmick is even better.

But even better than that (even even better!), I can cross-post the entries on 43things to this blog. So you might start to see some weird-looking, disembodied entries. I'll try to keep that in mind when I cross post.

Also, I'm testing out a new format at my test blog. I completely forgot that I was experimenting with a new look over there a few months ago. Back then, I was not yet ready to give up this look. But now I'm ready for an update. I would have done that tonight, but I would lose my lovingly handcrafted blog links in my sidebar. Also, I haven't figured out how to move Matchup, and I would get fewer viewers without it.

Spin Control

Which way is this girl spinning?

The New York Times had a blog entry about this image that puts to rest the notion that the image of the spinning dancer is a test of right-brain, left-brain dominance. It's merely an optical illusion and you-- yes you--- can control which way you think the dancer spins.

You need a healthy imagination and an ability to stare at her hips and butt, rather than her breasts. You can control her spin by imagining the top thigh line or the curve of her hip on the leg with the pointed toe.

When her toe is pointed to your right, you can make yourself “perceive” that her right hip is pointed toward you and she starts spinning in a clockwise position. When her toe is pointed to your left, you can “perceive” that her left hip is pointed toward you and and she starts spinning counterclockwise.

I can get it so that she sort of lazily swings back and forth in front of me, never turning her back.

What's really funny is the conspiracy theorists on the New York Times blog who are convinced that there is no illusion at all, but an animation of a dancer randomly changing her spin.

Short rant about Chelsea

Al Tomkins at the Poynter Institute says that Chelsea Clinton has refused to answer questions from journalists, though she'll take them from members of the public (or people who seem to be members of the public). I think she was off-limits when she was First Daughter, but now I think it's ridiculous for anyone to participate in a campaign and think they can get away with picking and choosing whose questions you'll answer.

Maybe it's the way I became a journalist --- jumped into my first job at a daily paper feet first and with little training --- but I never considered journalists to be anything other than members of the public to begin with. The term "citizen journalist" makes no sense to me, in the way that people tend to use it (I think of it as the equivalent of "someone who reports but isn't paid"), because I don't consider "journalists" to be anything other than interested citizens.

There are certain things that I would never ever ask, and would just wait for people to announce. I never fault anyone for asking any question (and I wouldn't have faulted anyone for asking Sarah Palin if she was pregnant). The only thing I think is required is that the journalist, or citizen, or anyone who is asking listen with open ears.

Does Chelsea Clinton have the right not to answer questions, or to answer questions selectively? Well, yes. Anyone can refuse to answer questions. But then, I think she (and everyone else) has to understand it's only fair when people call her on it.

Great Google Mooga!

When I first started blogging, I tried to keep my name off the blog. I wasn't sure what future employers or possible sources might think of my odd habit of journaling online.

So, now I guess Googling my name brings this blog up as one of the first links. Oh, well. I suppose I expected that would happen eventually as Google took over the Internet. As different companies merge, what once were my private dealings and habits is becoming cross-checkable. I even wonder what kind of information Google keeps about my subconscious impulses, given that it's what I use to search for whatever random thought pops in my head.

But dammit if Google keeps making useful stuff.

Geek reference alert: The Google situation reminds me of the giant brain in "Time and the Rani".



But lately, I haven't really cared whether people know this is my blog. I've since realized that I don't blog anything I don't say to anyone's face in real life, so no secrets there; I really do love my job, so little danger of offending anyone; and that I'm generally civil on here, which is something that anonymous online newspaper commenters everywhere could try to be, but they don't. I just assume that everyone is going to read this.

Maybe Google will save me time from writing my memoirs --- just Google me in 15 years and you'll be able to read all you need to know, recorded in real time and archived.

a new theater sensation!

So, the bf's new play "Let Us Sit Upon The Ground" has been released, and actually got some local media. (Without my help, for those of you who might be wondering.) He released it via podcast, and it's available on iTunes, which I think was the hook that grabbed the local paper and one of the local radio news stations. Very cool.

I was just happy that this got done in this way. The local theater scene is in a bit of a sad state. I remember when I first moved to Seattle 14 years ago, there were little theater spaces throughout the city and local playwrights had some kind of an outlet. That scene appears either to have died or to have gone so completely underground that there wouldn't be much point to it.

To answer some frequently asked questions of me: 1) it was recorded on location in his apartment in Seattle; 2) no, I'm not it --- he got some real actors to do it; 3) no, I have no pull --- you'll have to audition for the next one just like everyone else.

Here's the trailer for it:


Any potential grant writers or underwriters should take note --- Jim wants to do a second one, slated for fall. He could use a newer Macintosh computer and a large hard drive. So for a relatively small grant, you could actually get a finished piece of art....

summing up the past three weeks....

Man, I'm tired. Um. That's about it, really.

A girl can dream, can't she?

The indignity of the week is that my rent is rising $40. We're going from $710 to $750 for a one-bedroom apartment. It does have amenities that many of my friends don't --- an exercise room, a jacuzzi (that I stopped using after I wrote an article about MRSA, hehehe), a pool I can use in the summertime and covered parking --- but this price is finally drifting to where I hate having to pay that much just to rent in the little suburb where I live.

This gets a girl to dreaming, and my dream is to own a tiny home. A really really tiny home. If you don't want to click on the link, that is 120 square feet, one bedroom home, of compact goodness. It is on wheels, so it's technically a trailer. And I guess i could only get it through buying my own little plot of land and taking out a car loan. It would be like living on a boat, which would be another option, if it didn't require upkeep of a boat all the time. The second part of the dream is to have mostly produce or edible plants in the yard, instead of lawn, which I think of as a parasite of humanity.

This is sort of what I had in mind (and she's driving her house around in a neighborhood just down the road from me):



Of course, it doesn't appear she gets hot water, which would be sort of a requirement for me.

The parents, who will have to help, no doubt about it. And I think are hoping that this is more what I had in mind:



That place is five minutes from where I work, and actually I like that condo, even if it feels a bit opulent for me.