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Maybe I am Crazy

I'm not sure why I'm doing this but I'm sharing here a recent excerpt from my personal journal. I've been restless and anxious lately, unable to sit still, and I'm not sure why. Everything seems to require more effort of late, like I'm moving through a thick, numbing fog. But I cannot sit down, I cannot seem to rest.

As I sit and try to decide how to spend the rest of my evening, the conflict begins.  Do I read? If so, what? The fantasy novel I've been reading for pure pleasure and escape, or do I take the more serious option and read more Chekhov or contemporary short fiction? Or there are any of the non-fiction options open to me:  books on writing (which I am guilty of reading in lieu of actually writing) or freelancing, the popular science book that's been staring at me for months, or the excellent general history of World War I I just picked up on the cheap.

I would love to escape with my guilty pleasure and choose the fantasy, but out of a sense of guilt I feel compelled not to. And this is where the resentment creeps in, where all the SHOULDS come to gather, murmuring at my doorstep. It is here that I do one of two things: a) I cave to the SHOULDS and try to follow their instructions by doing what I should do. What I should do is always easy to spot because it is the task or tasks I feel I must do in order to achieve some ethereal notion of success. In writing for instance, I feel I should read more Chekhov if I have any hope of learning to be a better writer. Hence the guilt, for everyone knows there are no good writers who haven't taken the time to study Chekhov. Or b) I do none of the things I might enjoy doing, or feel I must do and lose myself to hours of the internet or gaming, or worse, television. All the while feeling lousy and unable to enjoy even these things.

Where is the relaxed, simple contentment at having an evening free? When did it become a competition?

How easy it is to let the SHOULDS control us. Sometimes I wonder if the speed at which our world moves today, the constant bombardment of information, the unspoken requirement of productivity has not somehow infected me, spinning my mind into a frenzy and compelling me to keep up or be left behind.

Who are we keeping up with?

Lists

It's so satisfying when you run across another blog that speaks to you. You get a real sense that you're not the only one experiencing the things you're experiencing; not the only one with your particular set of quirks and foibles. It's comforting to see ideas and thoughts in written form that you yourself might have spelled out if only you could have found the words to do so.

That's why I was pleased to stumble on Penelope Trunk's blog, Brazen Careerist. The main thrust of the blog is, of course, career advice, but often Ms. Trunk shares stories and insights from her own life, and it is these honest, and sometimes vulnerable accounts to which I relate so well.

Recently she posted on Getting Unstuck in life and to-do lists, which is great because I often feel stuck, and I am a consummate list-maker, especially to-do lists. Thing is I get stressed over to-do list implementation. Do I write it out on paper or use some nifty app for the iPhone (you know, in the interest of using technology and keeping everything in one place)? I break a lot of the rules on her list, like making more than one list and forgetting it somewhere then making a new, new one to replace the two or three already lost. I mean what good does it do to write up to-do lists if you can't keep track of them?

My problem is I'm a tad absentminded. That and at the most inopportune moments (read: all the time) I have trouble with focus. I'll begin working on something then suddenly I'm thinking hey this other thing looks more pressing, maybe I'm wasting time working on this right now. You have no idea how frustrating and...unproductive this can be. Actually, if you're reading this then maybe you do know, and if so you have my sympathies. Trunk talks about getting distracted as well, so at least I'm in good company.

In those rare moments when I can follow through on a list it is very gratifying; there is a certain sense of accomplishment when you can put a little check by an item on that to do list, whatever form it takes. But as Trunk states, it takes self discipline which for many is a notoriously difficult thing to foster, myself included.

I have found that if I have a 'project' that I'm working on then I am usually much better at getting things done, and as progress is made, I feel a growing sense of accomplishment and satisfaction which can further bolster my efforts and desire to continue. The project could be something as simple as running some major maintenance on my desktop computer: defragging, deleting files, cleaning folders and such. Or something grander like finally building that web page I've only talked about building for God knows how long. I'm sure there's some well known underlying psychological mechanism at work here, but giving particular tasks the label of 'Project' seems to lend them some sort of legitimacy for me. A form of externalization I suppose.

Are you a list maker? Is that an effective way of managing your day? Let me know!

P.S. And if you do happen to have a recommendation for a really good productivity iPhone app please share! I mean, hey, technology's supposed to make our lives easier right?

Concerning iPhone Twitter Clients, Part 3

Just so you'll know, I fully intended to delay for months between my Twitter client review series of posts that I started back in May of 2009. I, of course, cannot give you the reasons for such a delay for security purposes, just suffice to say it's all for the betterment of human kind that I do what I do.

Right.

This is the third installment of my iPhone Twitter client review, and though it is insanely late, I like to follow through and so here it is. We're going to be looking at Tweetie 2 by atebits. It packs so many features I won't even be able to cover them, but we'll hit the high notes.

The Basics

First of all, the interface is clean, minimalistic and very readable with a sort of off white(some call it...gray?) background and black text with an adjustable font size. Along the bottom you have buttons for your timeline, mentions, direct messages, search, and a submenu which gives you further access to to your profile, favorites, drafts, and..wait for it, lists!

Tweetie 2, if I'm not mistaken, is one of the few clients for the iPhone that integrates Twitter lists, and it does it quite well. Your lists are directly accessable via the More button on the far right of the bottom bar and you can even create new lists on the fly, though this process is a bit clunky. It's much easier to manage your lists from Twitter's site in my opinion.

Easy Timeline Navigation

One of the coolest features of Tweetie 2 is the Swipe. Swipe your finger left or right across a tweet of your choice and a handy slide in menu appears allowing you to favorite, reply, get info on the sender, open links, retweet and email tweets to recipients. You can also do the same things by tapping on a tweet and bringing up a dedicated page with clickable links (shown below).  

Advanced User Features

Tweetie 2 offers integration with Twitter companion apps Tweet Blocker, Favstar.fm, and follow cost. An in app email editor, and an awesome compose screen with a built in @people finder and hashtag search. You can also use Tweetie 2 to link your friends' profile to your phone's contact information. Of course, as is now pretty standard, Tweetie 2 supports multiple Twitter accounts, but atebits goes a step further by allowing you to follow and unfollow from more than one account at the same time!

Thoughts

I could totally say more about Tweetie 2, but I think I've covered most of the good stuff. It's packed with features for the Twitter power users and intuitive enough for noobs. Tweetie 2 is simply one of the slickest most feature-rich Twitter clients available for the iPhone today, and at $2.99 at the App Store it's a steal!

New Year Fail

So I hate new year's resolutions anyway, right? Which is why I'm not really(lie) that put out by screwing one up as early as February. I was supposed to post more regularly in here in 2010(where's my flying car, btw?), and as you can plainly see...I have failed. There, I said it. I admitted it, I failed and I am a bad man. Truth is though, this failure comes with a bit of good news,  and an excuse if you look at it just right.

While it's true I haven't been posting regularly, I have been doing some freelance writing on the side! Can you believe it? You can congratulate me in the comments section, I won't mind. So yeah, a little freelancing on the side and it's been taking up a little more time than I expected; my fiction writing has suffered as well and I'm scrambling to batten down the hatches and secure some loose lines so the sailing is a little more smooth and efficient. If you have tips on managing multiple writing assignments, I'd love to hear them by the way. Seriously, I mean I can't pay you for them or anything but I can give you my undying gratitude. Would that work?

As I've said before the words just don't come easily for me. That and I sometimes get all panicky when I sit down to write. I'll sit down at my desk, staring at that damnable blinking cursor and the waves of panic just start rolling in like the tide on Neurosis Beach. Please tell me this happens to someone else? Anybody?I'm going to go take a Xanax.

Conan, Bay, and the Twilight Zone

I've been up since 4:08 this morning. Is it sad that I decided to write a post at this hour when I could be doing any number of other mindless things: watching TV, playing Torchlight, or some other mindless thing I can't think of at the moment? Perhaps, but a couple of things have been on my mind lately and, by golly, I wanted to rant about them.

First, let me make one thing clear, clear like crystal: I hate Michael Bay. Alright that's strong there, that word hate. I could settle for disrelish(One thing I've been doing at 4am is reading the dictionary).

disrelish[dis-rel-ish] verb

1. to have a distaste for; dislike.[via dictionary.com]

It is my firm belief that Bay should be run down the streets of Hollywood and out of the city by a mob of torch-weilding, pitch-fork-packing—and yes, I'll have torches and pitchforks thank you very much—disappointed movie-goers who've had their souls ripped from their frames and their minds removed from their heads and promptly stomped into the dirt by having seen any of the man's so-called 'movies'. Here let me just throw some things out there to jog your memory: Bad Boys, Pearl Harbor, The Island, Armageddon, The Rock, Armageddon, Armageddon, Armageddon, Bad Boys 2, Armageddon, Transformers, and Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen. If you've experienced any of these train wrecks of moving picture entertainment then you've no doubt noticed the thread of suck running right through the middle of each one. What brought all this on you ask?

Shannon and I broke down and watched Transformers 2 last night, which after mistakenly exposing myself to the first one, I had patently refused to see. I should have gone with my gut on this one. I mean, my God it was terrible. [Spoiler Alert: If you haven't seen the flick, but are planning to, skip ahead now.] In the first 10 minutes you get the jerky, not-really-showing-you-anything- action which will carry you through the rest of the film, AND Optimus Prime murdering a clearly defeated Decepticon by shooting it in the face. Call me a fan-boy but Prime would never, NEVER kill like that. He is the epitome of a great leader with a good soul. This one thing alone would probably have been enough for me to get up and walk right out had I gone to see the movie in the theater(and yes that probably does make me a fan-boy). You're introduced to some new characters right off the bat, two of which will annoy the crap out of you for the rest of the movie. They are, apparently, moronic twin Autobots who've unfortunately adopted the images of mentally retarded hip hop artists as their role models on Earth. Even I was offended by the horrible stereotype and I'm white. The rest of the movie is filled with the ridiculous googly eyes the two main human characters make at each other at every turn, and the idiotic stumblings of Sam Witwicky's(main character) parents. Basically Michael Bay has taken one of the most beloved creations from my childhood—and other boys I'm sure—and pissed all over it.

Also Bay's vision of the Transformers themselves was and is a major issue for me. They're all way to insectoid looking and jagged; you can't even really see what they look like unless you get a chance to stare, and you don't. Seeing them on the screen makes my head hurt, it's like looking at the walking, talking embodiment of fingernails on a chalkboard. And they all look alike! Who here in the audience today could ever tell Megatron and Starscream apart? Show of hands? I rest my case.If you haven't seen either of the movies and you're a fan of the Transformers, my advice to you would be...don't. I was going to say that even G.I. Joe was better than either of the Transformers movies, but that's just crazy. I mean at least Transformers has Megan Fox.

Moving on, this whole thing with Conan and Jay Leno is just amazing. If you haven't been keeping up, NBC has plans to move Jay Leno back into The Tonight Show's lead, or bumping Conan(and with it the Tonight Show)to a midnight slot, using Leno as lead in. Apparently they finally recognized the fact that Leno's own show just isn't doing that well. And that, boys and girls, is because the show sucks. What NBC has not grasped yet is that Leno is about as funny as gravel dust. It boggles the mind really. I find Conan O'brien to be incredibly funny and entertaining, whereas watching Leno is comparable to rubbing 30 grit sandpaper over my open eyeballs.

I think it's entirely plausible that we've somehow crossed over into some Twilight Zone-like world where things like this can happen and seem even remotely normal: craptastic movies made by the likes of Micahel Bay becoming blockbusters, ridiculously big-chinned, late night show hosts getting second chances, and The Black Eyed Peas. Will mankind's afflictions never end?

End Rant. I'm going back to bed.

Ah, the Holidays

Well I don't know about the rest of you but I simply cannot believe it's only five days until Christmas. Since becoming an adult—I use the term loosely—I believe I've said this every year in regard to the stealthy approach of the Yule-tide and every year it continues to amaze me, each time catching me seemingly unaware that the most wonderful time of the year has arrived once again. I guess I should count my blessings that I can still spot it coming instead of waking up, like Ebenezer Scrooge on Christmas morning realizing I almost missed the whole darn thing.

Each year though, Christmas seems to lose some of its luster. The hustle and bustle are seen through less wonder filled eyes, and are experienced as an epic struggle with masses of less than pleasant, hurried people convinced that what they're about is the hottest thing going, and if you don't get out of their way they will stab you. In the eye. Ah yes, Merry Christmas to one and all.

Oh and speaking of Season's Greetings, lately that seems to be yet another way to generate ire, and wither the old holly and the ivy right there on the vine. In case you hadn't heard—or perhaps just didn't care—there's a 'war' on Christmas being fought right here in our own back yards and store fronts and mall parking lots! I don't know when it started; it could have been going on for years. This year it seems to be lurking just around every corner and behind every link you click. It's the whole thing about people getting upset if you say Happy Holidays or Season's Greetings instead of Merry Christmas, because if you don't say Merry Christmas then you're in with those liberal bastards that hide underneath our childrens' beds and behind the robes of our judges and in Tom Hanks' closet and they're all trying to take Christ out of Christmas and God and religion out of our public discourse, our schools and our government. [Side note: Though he may be liberal(honestly I don't know), I am in no way suggesting that Tom Hanks cavorts with the particularly insidious and feral species of under-bed-hiding, surreptitious rumor-mongering liberal. I merely wanted to choose a wholesome, undeniably good and likable(I love Tom Hanks, and really, who doesn't?) counterpoint to the nasty depiction of your run of the mill, dastardly liberal.]

Here it is in a nutshell: People are getting upset because some folks choose to say Happy Holidays instead of Merry Christmas. Wow, saying it twice in a row makes it even more ridiculous. The argument is that Christmas is a Christian holiday, by God, and nobody's going to forget that  so stop trying to take the 'Christ' out of Christmas and say it like you mean it! This letter to the editor of the Casper Star Tribune, an online news site in Wyoming, really captures the essence of the whole thing in one shot. There are so many places I could go with this, it's tempting, but I want to keep this post manageable, not turn it into a dissertation. Since when did we—and I mean Americans—become so sensitive and, well, ridiculous? It's fucking Christmas people! It's not like folks are going around this season saying, 'Hello, I hate you and hope you die of cancer.' They're still wishing you well. Whether you say Merry Christmas or Happy Holidays or Festivus for the rest of us, what difference does it make? It's not a conspiracy against Christ or the the Christian religion and not part of a liberal campaign to subvert Christianity! Relax.

Which brings me to another point: these people run around claiming everybody needs to say Merry Christmas. Well what about the folks who don't celebrate Christmas? You know folks who like, oh I don't know, might be Jewish, or pagan, or maybe just not originally from the Western hemisphere(in places like Saudi Arabia, China, and Japan, Christmas isn't a formal holiday, though it is increasingly celebrated all over the world, even by non-Christians. Gasp!)  [via Wikipedia]And just to make it clear I'm not all hatin on the Christians, let me say this: It's called a Christmas tree, because that's what it is. It's been called a Christmas tree for hundreds of years, why change that when the phrase itself conjures up images in your head of...a Christmas tree! I don't tell my Jewish friends that no sir, that is not a menorah, it's a nine-pronged candelabra used for ceremonial purposes, and in turn my Jewish friends don't hit me on the head with their menorahs. 

I don't want to cut into that whole other ball of wax about Christmas being a wholeheartedly Christian holiday—it doesn't take a lot of searching to find that our beloved Christmas has a ton of pagan and other influences—and America being founded on Christian ideals because, briefly, it isn't and it wasn't.

It's Christmas, how about just trying to spread some of that good will towards others instead of worrying about whether that good will is being spread in the name of your God, or someone else's.

Happy Holidays

Well, at least I'm not crazy.....

Just the other day my girlfriend Shannon made an observation that really tripped me up, made me sit up and take notice you could say. She said that it was a little ironic that I have been blogging about social media on the shared blog of some friends of mine, when I hadn't written for my own blog in a while, or been much involved in social media of late(specifically Facebook and Twitter). Well, let me tell you, that was a slap in the face!And though it stings, it's true, I haven't posted here since the end of October. Now it's not that I haven't been writing, I've actually been working on a notoriously difficult short story, and also trying to set up a regular writing schedule, and also trying not to think of clever and outlandish ways to kill myself. Alright, that was over the line, I admit it. In truth, I've been struggling with some mysterious 'other' health issues, and a bout of depression, from which I have suffered for many years now(and it's entirely possible the two are related). It's not really something I've touched on much here, if at all, but it has occurred to me that writing about it might help. I might do that one day. The problem with doing things when you're depressed is...well, you just don't feel like it. I mean, sometimes I do well to remain conscious; I'm sure you're aware—perhaps you're not— that a depressed person can sleep, a lot. Well, that's because the brief oblivion of unconsciousness that sleep delivers is sometimes preferable to facing the real world. (Interesting bit of information there, but I'm not sure why I brought it up because I don't really have that problem; I guess it's more along the lines that I often wish for unconsciousness to spontaneously overtake me, which could mean I want to be diagnosed with narcolepsy. Go figure.)I know what you're thinking, I can hear the wheels turning. I'm not looking for pity here, and if you've read this far and are starting to think, 'Oh Gawd, this is turning into a sob story, it's time to head over to the fail blog.' , fear not I will only trouble you with my infirmities for a brief moment. Although, having said that, I certainly wouldn't object to a deluge of nice, supportive comments down below here! I believe what I'm really trying to do here is apologize for being a blog bum. A blogum? A blum? A deadbeat blogger—no wait, that's Perez Hilton. I really, really, really am going to try harder to get regular, and without the aid of fiber. Tell you what, I'll go on record right now: My next post will be on Monday, December 21, one week from today! I'm gonna be smart and use some of that fancy 'head science' on myself. I'll see you next week, and just an FYI, I'm a guy, but feel free to send me some chocolate to help me feel better(wink, wink)!

A Return to Normalcy, Whatever That Is.

I feel terrible that I've neglected my blog for so long. In my last post I spoke of changes, and in the past two months there have been many. Chaos seems to have been the only constant. I totally had one of those, 'Hey, me too!' moments while reading Angela Meyer's blog Literary Minded today wherein she mentions moving, and of course, blogging, or a lack thereof; her post totally inspired me!With moving complete, and unpacking—a seemingly eternal activity—nearly taken care of, the new house is looking a little less like the home of an insane cardboard box maker and more like a, well, a house. My study(yes, my very own study) isn't set up yet, but I'll take my time with that as long as I have a dining room table and some headphones. So things are settling down now and I hope to devote a little more attention to my writing, here and elsewhere(and yes, I do intend to write the last part of the Twitter client review, be patient). Stay tuned.

Time for a Cool Change

                The risk of a wrong decision is preferable to the terror of indecision.

                                                                                                                                          Maimonides

I am turning the page onto a new chapter in my life. Friday I walked away from a job of five years. A job which has been slowly eroding away the joy in my life, and drying my soul up into an emotionless husk. I turned my back on it willingly and my leaving was on good terms. I burned no bridges; I've never been the type for that. I merely took an exit off of the featureless—or would it be futureless—route I'd been traveling on, stopping long enough to take a look around me in the hope that I might spot a new direction in which to travel.

Of course there is hesitation, and the common friend of travellers seeking new ways, doubt. Doubt about making the right decision. But it occurs to me that, more often than not, we must make decisions in our lives not knowing the right or the wrong of our choices until, after some significant time has passed, we are able to look back on them with knowledge unavailable to us at the time as we face the consequences of our choosing. It seems a very backward way to go about things.

Unfortunately that's how it appears to work, and all too often indecision, and the fear of uncertainty can paralyze, causing our lives to shudder to a crawl while, in our fear of making the wrong move, we make no move at all. In my experience, this numbing state of no-change is a type of death in which we can wander for months, or even years.

Much more preferable then, is the bold step into the mists of a future lived fully.

res

Girls and Directions

I was reading TheBloggess the other day when I saw this post, detailing how she got lost on the way to the store. The exchange between her and her husband bore an uncanny similarity to several my girlfriend Shannon and I have had. Uncanny I tell you.

What is it with women and spatial-temporal reasoning? Me and the guys talk about this all the time(and you thought guys only talked about sex and football). Let me point to something specific from that Wikipedia link I just gave you:

This ability is important for generating and conceptualizing solutions to multi-step problems that arise in areas such as architecture, engineering, science, mathematics, art, games, and everyday life.[via Wikipedia]

Ah ha! See that? Everyday life. I'd say driving and, oh I don't know, generally being aware of a physical reality external to oneself falls under that category wouldn't you? However, I am continually absofuckinglutely bewildered at Shannnon's complete inability to navigate via external objects, coupled with an unfortunate—and that's understatement mind you—incomprehension of physical distances.

Don't get me wrong, Shannon can drive; it's just that she must get to where ever she happens to be going by reading the Earth's fucking lay-lines or something. Getting a phone call like TheBloggess' would in no way surprise me.

And don't get me started on distances, or really, any physical measurement involving a unit of some kind.

You put how many gallons of gas in the car?

Gallons? What are gallons? I don't care about gallons.

Are all women like this? What gives?