So this was going to be a post about how the Lt. Governor of South Carolina was taking the Governor to task for his absence of hiking in the wilderness – a mere special inerest spot in the news. Oh, everybody needs to get a way every once in a while was the message the tv and radio chose to capitalize on. I appreciated the message the Lt. Governor made, albeit whiny and tattletaley. My specific issue with how he expressed his beef was how a whole state would have to shut down, despite his assigned role as 'next man on the totem pole' just because he didn't officially pass off the torch.
I have particularly been finding this system of power frustrating in my own working environment. I struggle when action ceases due to someone above me in the 'channels' inavailability. I am using this in the personal sense, but I witness it among my colleagues as well.
Gummed up. wasteful workflow. probably someone out having an affair on their way to the GOP. on fathers day. while wife covers ass. with four sons.
Strike up the dueling banjos.
5.11.2009
Green design has got me down
It all started with elation. I thought to my frugal self: “Finally, a universal adoption of stinginess for materials that rivals my own. The model has shifted. yay.” as I continued to rinse my plastic utensils. (Stay tuned for my version of recycled living)
It’s great. It’s meaningful. Saving the future is so much more fun than cell phone baubles and styrafoam.
I didn’t think it was going to affect my graphic design much, except for the opportunity to use green more and do cool leaf and plug logos for our electric truck (visual to follow), but it has. It’s made me recognize a design trap I am frequently guilty of – uber paper consciousness.
--
Office warriors battle daily against mountains of paper with the aforementioned little email footer to ‘Please consider the environment before printing this [important] email.’
Graphic designers deal with this times ten. At home, I make several trips around the house over the course of a weekend with the task to find paper stuffs to recycle.
This daily guilt leads to cramping content down to half the area that’s necessary to visually communicate the message. It’s the equivalent of storage bins and vertical hangers of information.
I managed to create a class schedule into a bookmark 6-up on an 8.5x11 document. :)
Two-sided. :(
It’s great. It’s meaningful. Saving the future is so much more fun than cell phone baubles and styrafoam.
I didn’t think it was going to affect my graphic design much, except for the opportunity to use green more and do cool leaf and plug logos for our electric truck (visual to follow), but it has. It’s made me recognize a design trap I am frequently guilty of – uber paper consciousness.
--
Office warriors battle daily against mountains of paper with the aforementioned little email footer to ‘Please consider the environment before printing this [important] email.’
Graphic designers deal with this times ten. At home, I make several trips around the house over the course of a weekend with the task to find paper stuffs to recycle.
This daily guilt leads to cramping content down to half the area that’s necessary to visually communicate the message. It’s the equivalent of storage bins and vertical hangers of information.
I managed to create a class schedule into a bookmark 6-up on an 8.5x11 document. :)
Two-sided. :(
2.26.2009
Free N0 More!
This is the new name of the ISP I have been piggybacking for three years.
its been a pretty good run, I'd say.
When I opened my laptop after a few days of not being able to hop on (they were probably on vacation or something I thought to myself), my computer had a bit of a hiccup while airport rescanned the available wireless networks. The usual locked suspects popped up, but before where my trusty 12-digit open connection had been, was now a blaring personal confrontation to me. At first, I laughed and thought this was a funny little way to slap my wrist and say 'shame on me' in a joking way, but later I started to feel ashamed.
I don't know the ins and outs of wireless connection-- I struggle to explain the difference between AOL, wireless and verizon/cable DSL to my mom. So in my lack of comprehension beyond "i can't access the internet any longer", I'm paranoid this particular neighbor who has threatened to shoot a neighborhood cat, might know the wifipirate/fregan(s)**.
This makes me regret not approaching all my neighbors sooner, in an honest effort to offer up money to share the service. I wasn't sure that it was a suitable offer, but it would have maybe alleviated the shame as I walk down my street wondering which neighbor is shunning me.
Too bad, the honest truth is that the $29 monthly service is going to break my financial back, adding me to the mounting numbers of foreclosures*. So, really, is it any advantage to you stingy probably-Republican neighbor? Shame on YOU!
*I don't like to make jokes about my own foreclosure because I really do stress about it. But I do like to joke about it because it does get under the skin of Republican bailout types.
**later determined another neighbor was aboard the ship.
its been a pretty good run, I'd say.
When I opened my laptop after a few days of not being able to hop on (they were probably on vacation or something I thought to myself), my computer had a bit of a hiccup while airport rescanned the available wireless networks. The usual locked suspects popped up, but before where my trusty 12-digit open connection had been, was now a blaring personal confrontation to me. At first, I laughed and thought this was a funny little way to slap my wrist and say 'shame on me' in a joking way, but later I started to feel ashamed.
I don't know the ins and outs of wireless connection-- I struggle to explain the difference between AOL, wireless and verizon/cable DSL to my mom. So in my lack of comprehension beyond "i can't access the internet any longer", I'm paranoid this particular neighbor who has threatened to shoot a neighborhood cat, might know the wifipirate/fregan(s)**.
This makes me regret not approaching all my neighbors sooner, in an honest effort to offer up money to share the service. I wasn't sure that it was a suitable offer, but it would have maybe alleviated the shame as I walk down my street wondering which neighbor is shunning me.
Too bad, the honest truth is that the $29 monthly service is going to break my financial back, adding me to the mounting numbers of foreclosures*. So, really, is it any advantage to you stingy probably-Republican neighbor? Shame on YOU!
*I don't like to make jokes about my own foreclosure because I really do stress about it. But I do like to joke about it because it does get under the skin of Republican bailout types.
**later determined another neighbor was aboard the ship.
1.02.2009
a case of the shingles
Let me take a break from my intermittent ipod blogging to talk about my condition that is symptomatic of immunocompromised individuals and the elderly. I have been experiencing it for approximately 3 weeks with noone to empathize these conditions with, leading me to feel like a hypercondriacting, ultra-sensative, weak whiny baby that just has to learn to deal.
Fast-forward through the holidays: my pants begin hurting in ways that not even multiple-helpings of a thanksgiving and/or holiday meal can cause. The way I described it in soliciting pity was a bruised shank steak of a hip with hot gravy poured down the front and side, with my clothes feeling like a barbed wire piece of bread sandwiching the two painfully together. Naturally, people thought I was just coming on to them.
So after an unrelated injury also happened, I thought I might use my extended time from work to see if my doctor could make something of this self-diagnosed bursitis.
DR. OFFICE
I notice on the files I need to verify for 'computerization' I have been a patient since 2002. Immediately, I feel a closeness to this doctor, who for the most part has only seen me annually, never seen me nude, and has only dealt out anti-depressants and once asked me where I got my pot cookies after I confessed that I lost my shit eating too many. She's very Cold Water Creek maternal. Just how I like my docs, I guess.
DIAGNOSIS
In the examination, I try to break down my symptoms, altho its been two weeks since I was able to secure an appointment, I am mostly remembering the pain. It starts to flare up a bit while I am sitting there. She asks me to disrobe and she is going to go check on the turkey or something. After she leaves, I am not sure how far to take my clothes off. I decide that undies and socks will show her I am not easy. I feel uncomfortable about disturbing the pile of paper dresses that I wasn't given. I opt to fold my pants over my lap and wait.
She returns and offers me a paper gown. She examines the hip and folds my leg all around to find any subsequent pain. At this point, I thought i might mention this coincidental cluster of spider or mosquito bites on the trunk of my back that got me real good.
She stepped back. She rinsed her hands and told me I had shingles. The word (like chickenpox) seems like such a hygiene-related funky disorder. I was shocked. Does this mean... I am an old person?
PROGNOSIS
I really was in shock. I always go into the doctor's office expecting two things: "it's nothing, yer fine", or "you have cancer". So I didn't have time to form follow up questions. She told me I had already endured what is classically known as very painful both in the skin and from the lesions. Its clearing up, so no crazy steroids or awesome pain-relievers. Just a sense of knowing that I am a total bad-ass!
I realized the whole exchange that I had with my doctor had been so one-sided. I asked if she liked the computerization of things. She sighed and turned to me suddenly candid. She was unhappy. She said she also had some bad news to report before everything was over. She was ending her practice there. She described some things I didn't understand about residency and practice. All I kept thinking is that my doctor was breaking up with me while my pants are off...
FAQ
She left the room again to go test the mashed potatoes and I tried to think of important questions to ask her. She used google several times while we sat there discovering the dermatomal zones of my pain. I thought, anything I might forget I will go home and soak up like a sponge.
She had already told me that only the site of the blistering bumps would be contagious to those who have never been infected by chickenpox and mine had already sored up. She told me it lies internally dormant in our nerves after we contract chickenpox (mine was an ugly bitch of a case at 16!), and emerges only during times where our immune-systems are weak, like AIDS, or cancer (which is being ruled out in a blood test right now I hope), and of course, stress. "Can my cats, who sleep right next to me get it?" and just like that, perfectly straight-faced and not laughing at me, she said, "no".
Good-bye Dr. Cold Water Creek, good-bye.
Fast-forward through the holidays: my pants begin hurting in ways that not even multiple-helpings of a thanksgiving and/or holiday meal can cause. The way I described it in soliciting pity was a bruised shank steak of a hip with hot gravy poured down the front and side, with my clothes feeling like a barbed wire piece of bread sandwiching the two painfully together. Naturally, people thought I was just coming on to them.
So after an unrelated injury also happened, I thought I might use my extended time from work to see if my doctor could make something of this self-diagnosed bursitis.
DR. OFFICE
I notice on the files I need to verify for 'computerization' I have been a patient since 2002. Immediately, I feel a closeness to this doctor, who for the most part has only seen me annually, never seen me nude, and has only dealt out anti-depressants and once asked me where I got my pot cookies after I confessed that I lost my shit eating too many. She's very Cold Water Creek maternal. Just how I like my docs, I guess.
DIAGNOSIS
In the examination, I try to break down my symptoms, altho its been two weeks since I was able to secure an appointment, I am mostly remembering the pain. It starts to flare up a bit while I am sitting there. She asks me to disrobe and she is going to go check on the turkey or something. After she leaves, I am not sure how far to take my clothes off. I decide that undies and socks will show her I am not easy. I feel uncomfortable about disturbing the pile of paper dresses that I wasn't given. I opt to fold my pants over my lap and wait.
She returns and offers me a paper gown. She examines the hip and folds my leg all around to find any subsequent pain. At this point, I thought i might mention this coincidental cluster of spider or mosquito bites on the trunk of my back that got me real good.
She stepped back. She rinsed her hands and told me I had shingles. The word (like chickenpox) seems like such a hygiene-related funky disorder. I was shocked. Does this mean... I am an old person?
PROGNOSIS
I really was in shock. I always go into the doctor's office expecting two things: "it's nothing, yer fine", or "you have cancer". So I didn't have time to form follow up questions. She told me I had already endured what is classically known as very painful both in the skin and from the lesions. Its clearing up, so no crazy steroids or awesome pain-relievers. Just a sense of knowing that I am a total bad-ass!
I realized the whole exchange that I had with my doctor had been so one-sided. I asked if she liked the computerization of things. She sighed and turned to me suddenly candid. She was unhappy. She said she also had some bad news to report before everything was over. She was ending her practice there. She described some things I didn't understand about residency and practice. All I kept thinking is that my doctor was breaking up with me while my pants are off...
FAQ
She left the room again to go test the mashed potatoes and I tried to think of important questions to ask her. She used google several times while we sat there discovering the dermatomal zones of my pain. I thought, anything I might forget I will go home and soak up like a sponge.
She had already told me that only the site of the blistering bumps would be contagious to those who have never been infected by chickenpox and mine had already sored up. She told me it lies internally dormant in our nerves after we contract chickenpox (mine was an ugly bitch of a case at 16!), and emerges only during times where our immune-systems are weak, like AIDS, or cancer (which is being ruled out in a blood test right now I hope), and of course, stress. "Can my cats, who sleep right next to me get it?" and just like that, perfectly straight-faced and not laughing at me, she said, "no".
Good-bye Dr. Cold Water Creek, good-bye.
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