So you spend a little time on Facebook and it almost makes you embarrassed to have a blog. Blogs are, by comparison:
– Old fashioned
– Thinly disguised, mildly unsubstantive navel-gazing
– The embodiment of unproductive time in many ways
– An expression more of what might have been than what is
Yes, I know that these are all critiques that apply to Facebook these days as well, but blogs commit these sins in spades by comparison.
— § —
— § —
One of the oddest things on Facebook is the way in which you can stumble across people you haven’t thought about in years, usually in conversations or interactions with mutual friends.
For some, this is one of the delights of Facebook.
Me? I’d rather forget, in most cases.
— § —
Spent a great deal of time triaging journal articles and conference papers tonight for the next chapter in the dissertation. For reasons related to my previous post, my notes and files are a mess when it comes to the body of resources I’m using.
If I was naturally organized like my wife, they’d be in great shape, but I’ve never had that skill. I began life as a child of the digital age, and those have always been computing system functions for me.
This is a weakness—bad software or no software for me equals bad capability or no capability. I am utterly dependent on my tools for organization and planning tasks, and when the tools available for these tasks in a particular domain are completely inadequate, my ability to carry the tasks out is also completely inadequate.
I hate you, Sente. (But I hate Papers, Zotero, Mendeley, and EndNote more, so take heart, at least there’s that.)
— § —
I am trying to resist the temptation to have another beer.
I drink to much beer on too many evenings.
— § —
Temperatures are scheduled to ramp up here next week. I’m trying to prepare myself for the onslaught, but even at this (twenty degrees cooler) level, I’m already suffering.
Every winter I begin to think that I may be a summer person, but when summer comes around, I am quickly disabused of this notion.
— § —
Funny thing has evolved in my Facebook life: I start interactions with “my” people, but then my wife comes in and continues them as I fade out, leaving my Facebook page in many ways to be a catalog of interactions between people I’m friended-to and my wife.
This is how my dad interacted with the world, too—always in the end through my mother. Only he did it without technology.
It’s only strange when I sit back and thing about it; otherwise it feels troublingly normal to me.
I suppose this is what it feels like to be an introvert. I’m perfectly content to let someone else come in and finish my conversations—to outsource my social interaction.
— § —
Final thought of the night: standardization is a good thing. I’ve been trying to get a watch connected to a band for more than a month now. Getting the watch, band, and pins to match (even though all specify a length or width in mm) has been an exercise in frustration.
Apparently, watch manufacturers, watch band manufacturers, and pin manufacturers are all using slightly different rulers, turning the whole thing into a giant, repeatedly-frustrating crap-shoot.
— § —
Oh, actually, this is my final thought of the night:
Before moving to this place I’d done limited drilling of any kind in my life (not a tools or power tools person), but since I’ve been here I have had occasion to use five different masonry bits and acquire a high-speed drill.
Suburbia and “house” living has a lot to answer for.
And at the same time, I’m not convinced now that I’d be immediately comfortable if I were to go back to the city. I am a lifestyle exile, with no place to call home.
Can I get a tune to whisle that in?