tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23673393305385571112024-03-04T23:57:53.984-05:00Navigating the NuancesIn the wilds known as the 20s, there is no sure pathway to self, adulthood, or the clear vision of just what life should "look" like. This is my first attempt to capture the observations, experiences, inspirations, and complete mishaps that shape my personal journey as a modern female with old fashioned quirks. And, well, if sometimes my mishaps outnumber my insights, I hope my antics charm you. B-Verbosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10819796524054745579noreply@blogger.comBlogger57125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2367339330538557111.post-42254784154025469562013-11-18T16:01:00.000-05:002013-11-18T16:04:34.339-05:00Anxiety & Anonymity<br />
My inspiration this week (and yes, this season, since I have neglected <i>Nuances</i> since February) comes from one of my favorite places: <b>Bookends</b> from the <i>The New York Times. </i>The article is <span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="http://mobile.nytimes.com/2013/11/17/books/review/how-do-we-judge-books-written-under-pseudonyms.html?partner=rss&emc=rss&smid=tw-nytimes" target="_blank">"</a><span style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.2em;"><a href="http://mobile.nytimes.com/2013/11/17/books/review/how-do-we-judge-books-written-under-pseudonyms.html?partner=rss&emc=rss&smid=tw-nytimes" target="_blank">How Do We Judge Books Written Under Pseudonyms?"</a> </span>By Francine Prose and Daniel Mendelsohn. </span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>November 12, 2013</i>. I would recommend giving the article a quick glance before attempting to understand my mad ramblings and ruminations. Because, well...I ramble and ruminate. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Click Below! I'll take you to the article too!</td></tr>
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<a href="http://mobile.nytimes.com/2013/11/17/books/review/how-do-we-judge-books-written-under-pseudonyms.html?partner=rss&emc=rss&smid=tw-nytimes" target="_blank">http://mobile.nytimes.com/2013/11/17/books/review/how-do-we-judge-books-written-under-pseudonyms.html?partner=rss&emc=rss&smid=tw-nytimes</a></div>
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My two favorite insights from this:<br />
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="color: #20124d;">"Pseudonyms are especially attractive to fiction writers, whose work (inventing people and seeing the world through their eyes) requires an impersonation, of sorts. Writing under a pen name is like doing an impersonation of someone doing an impersonation...A friend who did something like this says he needed his alter ego, not to conceal his real name but to 'be' that fictitious person, who wrote a scene in which a father cannibalizes a family pet."</span> ~Mendelsohn</blockquote>
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="color: #741b47;">"The critical urge to see family resemblances in an author’s work arises from a psychological insight: The creative mind is, like all minds, coherent, even if its coherences aren’t apparent. Like a psychotherapist, the critic looks for patterns, themes and repetitions not only within a work but across an artist’s career in order to uncover the hidden unities."</span> ~ Prose</blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">It's very true: analysis can become stale and lazy when a reader has already put significant effort into understanding an author's work</span><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">—</span><span style="font-family: inherit;">ask them to read another piece, and 7 out of 10 times, they will find similar "conclusions" about the author's intent or influences. You cannot unlearn something that you have learned through self-tutelage. Well, not without a lot of rewiring and maybe some amnesia!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">If you look to Harold Bloom's "Anxiety of Influence"</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;">, </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">he asserts [my modest set of conclusions after that self-taught principle I just described] that every generation is at creative war with itself. We attempt to outdo the literary achievements of our ancestors, living in the constant fear that we will not surpass the innovation of the "greats" who wrote before us. And so one of two things will happen: a writer will try a technique and approach that deviates as far as possible from his or hero, OR a writer will first try to master and then elevate the very techniques of his or hero hero. It occurs to me now, that the argument Bloom made supported the notion that a constant comparison between the new and the old ends stifles new and innovative approaches to written expression. Anxiety for achievement distracts from the work at hand. That somehow we fixate on the past to try and inspire the new, which would hinder growth. I think looking to the past CAN hinder new achievements and voices, but it can also inform the historical canon, and push writers to invest in technique, and leave the changing world to continue to inspire new plot lines, dramatic and tragic twists and character flaws, and all those other little goodies (aka the story itself)!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">So, the idea of an author using a nom de plume to escape (I infer) the anxiety of HIS or HER name being judged repeatedly in the literary canon, as he or she makes these adventures into </span>technique,<span style="font-family: inherit;"> tale and talent, makes sense to me! To generate a fake identity so that he can write from a perspective not entirely his own, and thus be free to craft crazy, horrible </span>plot lines<span style="font-family: inherit;"> that he (or she) would never otherwise attempt</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">—</span><span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 115%;">in deference to the past generation's written achievements and homage to "good taste"</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">—</span><span style="font-family: inherit;">certainly speaks to the writer's love of the craft. The nom de plume is a loophole; it provides the writer freedom to step beyond the constraints of literary study, the tastes and trends of the day, and even the expectation that he may have had for his illustrious career. In anonymity or alternative identities, we are free to write about "what we know" through a lens and with a style unique to a time, place, and perspective. It stands alone ready for analysis and comment but ripped away from an author's </span>preceding<span style="font-family: inherit;"> body of works. It's a relationship between a reader and a writer that stands outside of preconceived expectations.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">It's rather tantalizing when you think of it that way, no? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>~Written, shockingly enough, by a devoted follower of New Historicism (oops!)</i></span><br />
<br />B-Verbosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10819796524054745579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2367339330538557111.post-73206496738348250932013-02-28T10:16:00.000-05:002013-03-05T22:59:38.264-05:00Romance.The most important lesson a couple will learn in 2013:<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><br /></span></span></i></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">Romance can exist between ordinary people who live ordinary lives. </span></span></i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Kind of a great quote, isn't it?<span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="font-size: large;"> <span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: small;">Simple and <span style="font-size: small;">beaut<span style="font-size: small;">iful.</span></span></span></span></span></span> Reminds us all that grand gestures aren't the only things that make up a love story<b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">—</span></b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">the little ones are just as significant</span>. I don't even remember on which program I heard it, just that it prompted me to leap from the couch in search of a pen, and then scribble fiendishly on a used Post-It Note. You know, much like any other day. </span><br />
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<br />B-Verbosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10819796524054745579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2367339330538557111.post-19228777169422106102013-02-19T19:32:00.000-05:002013-11-18T22:34:27.170-05:00Worldy Wanderings<i><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #351c75;">I do not travel for the cities, or the sights, or the food; I travel because I know that a friend is waiting somewhere on the other side of the world, and I must make my way to meet them.</span></span></i><br />
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2012 held many travels for me: I started the New Year in Houston, on a multi-person pilgrimage to visit my college roommate, and ended the year in New York City, reconnecting with two ladies who shared a magical half year with me in Paris many, many years ago.<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"> <span style="font-size: small;">The extreme<span style="font-size: small;"> differences b<span style="font-size: small;">etween<span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></span><span style="font-size: small;">the locations, the <span style="font-size: small;">experience, and most importa<span style="font-size: small;">ntly, the<span style="font-size: small;"> people, cannot <span style="font-size: small;">be overstat<span style="font-size: small;">ed. </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
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Over the years, I have been blessed to cast a "wide net". I have been given opportunities to see new places and try new things. My memories have become a kaleidoscope. Colorful, rich, ever moving. Several of my friends claim to recall a particular chapter in their life through music they loved, others through a favorite t-shirt they wore. One guy even told me that he thinks of his past in terms of which watch he was wearing (the rubber, water proof, colorful rock climbers' favorite, no less). The watches defined his sport obsession of the moment.<br />
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When I think of a year in my past, I inevitably characterize it in one of two ways:<br />
<ol>
<li>Where was I working?, or</li>
<li>Who was I visiting?</li>
</ol>
This probably says a great deal about my personality, and I won't pretend to know what exactly that might be. <span style="color: #741b47;"><span style="color: black;">Worst possible interpretation: </span></span><i><span style="color: #741b47;">workaholic with an occasional Skymiles problem. </span></i><br />
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There are worse things. <br />
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I firmly believe that sometimes you are pulled--by a spontaneous desire, or <i><span style="color: #741b47;">fateful coercion</span></i>--to certain places, and all to experience one particular event. If my normally controlled, planning-oriented self had waited the responsible 6 months before running across the pond for school, I would never have met or bonded with two incredible women. One from Florida, the other from the bustling mayhem of New York City.<br />
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Similarly, if professional dissatisfaction hadn't set in during 2010, I might never have spent months living in the tundra of Minnesota, half-hiding in the guest bedroom of one of my best friend's home. Without that experience, our friendship would have never reached the sort of complex state that allows us to communicate in simple texts, over the divide of continents, time zones, and life experiences. <br />
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I travel to build bridges--not to places, but to people. To encourage the sort of friendships that will likely define my life; to meet the friends whose influence will change the way I participate in the world around me. And when I return home, I create a new bridge for them to travel across. Together, the planes, the trains, the automobiles take us further into ourselves, rather than farther away from our roots. <br />
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So, why do you do the things you do? <br />
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<br />B-Verbosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10819796524054745579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2367339330538557111.post-9392309059310892632013-02-18T20:34:00.002-05:002013-03-05T23:00:42.627-05:00Animals In Their Natural HabitatA brief glimpse at an emerging species of Appalachia: <i>Mulier Venatio</i> (woman hunting).<br />
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These creatures can be found in the wild, frequently in the vicinity of vanity mirrors, and specialize in the hunting of well-muscled men.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>Preferred diet:</b> <br />
red wine, berries, and sunshine</div>
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<b>Nocturnal activities: </b> <br />
Well, none of our biologists have managed to return from the field to tell the tale! </div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<b> Photographic Documentation</b> :<br />
<i>Vos mos rideo risi risum per </i></div>
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(You will laugh excessively...or so the Author believes...<br />
both literally <i>and </i>that this is the proper Latin)</div>
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<br />B-Verbosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10819796524054745579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2367339330538557111.post-62694957702784853362013-02-15T22:25:00.000-05:002013-03-05T22:57:34.555-05:00Writers are Masochists, Or Things I Learned from a Movie<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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There is a sentiment among writers—and no, I do not believe
myself a member of that erudite or eloquent clan—that to write a “true” story requires
a level of sacrifice and pain.</div>
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<br /></div>
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There is also the belief that work is never truly finished.
Well, combine those two, and I would say Writers are about the most masochistic
set of individuals on the planet. </div>
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<br /></div>
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No thank you. I will take “blogger” any day. Too heavy
already? <a href="http://navigatingthenuances.blogspot.com/2012/12/scratch-scratch.html" target="_blank"><u><span style="color: #376092; mso-style-textfill-fill-alpha: 100.0%; mso-style-textfill-fill-color: #376092; mso-style-textfill-fill-colortransforms: lumm=75000; mso-style-textfill-fill-themecolor: accent1; mso-themecolor: accent1; mso-themeshade: 191;">Check out my story about Bowling Squirrels!</span></u></a></div>
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<br /></div>
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I have just finished watching a rather unique film. And, as
typically happens when I combine lofty dramas with a Cabernet, I get a little
contemplative. Ok, pretentious. Ok, maybe pedantic. Oh do leave off!</div>
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #073763;"><i>“At some point you have to choose between real life and
fiction. The two are very close, but they never actually touch.” </i></span></span></div>
</blockquote>
<br />
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<a href="http://ia.media-imdb.com/images/M/MV5BMTM2NjgyMjI3OV5BMl5BanBnXkFtZTcwMDkxMjIyOA@@._V1_SX214_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://ia.media-imdb.com/images/M/MV5BMTM2NjgyMjI3OV5BMl5BanBnXkFtZTcwMDkxMjIyOA@@._V1_SX214_.jpg" height="317" id="irc_mi" style="margin-top: 117px;" width="214" /></a><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> </i></b></div>
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<br /></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Basic Plot: Film, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Words</i></b></div>
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<br /></div>
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Dennis Quaid plays a writer who is debuting his newest work,
and is being quite coquettishly pursued by a Young Girl, who shares aspirations
of being a writer. Through a rather twisted and confusing chronology, Quaid’s
character reveals to her the central characters of his novel. Among the cast of
characters are: <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>a struggling writer,
played by Bradley Cooper; the writer’s supportive wife, Zoe Zaldana; and a
rather gruff and cryptic Old Man, played by the gruff and cryptic Jeremy Irons.
Over the course of the film, you then enter into a play-within-a-play-within-a-play
storyline; Cooper’s character discovers a briefcase containing an old
manuscript, which he eventually steals, that just happens to be a semi-autobiographical
fiction written <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><u>about AND by</u></i></b> the Old Man. Still with me? I know, a
play-within-a-play-within-a-play. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Only
even more confusing since the deepest level of the “fiction” happens to be
based on the “real life” events of the secondary fiction level (re: the Old
Man). <span style="color: #741b47;">[Insert apology for my unfortunate love of dissecting film through the
lens of literary criticism.]</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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In the film, the story within a story mechanism, presents a
writer whose attempts to educate a young and idealistic girl is more than
complicated: it jumps abruptly between concepts of male desire, loving and
longing, the artist’s insecurity, and even the worthiness of societal
approbation. Each scene could be a vignette—staccato rhythms and disjointed
transitions do very little to connect Quaid to his manifested younger self in Cooper,
or to the source of his anxiety and creative self-doubt, represented by the Old
Man (Irons).</div>
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<br /></div>
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Quaid’s character represents a writer who is questioning his
own success in life, and is wondering if all that has been thrown at him—objects
of lust (the Young Girl), social approbation (the book signing), or his right
to a writer’s voyeurism (the Obscenely Large Glass Loftspace)—is truly the
result of his own talent, or the arbitrary series of occurrences in an
ambitious man’s life? Or worse, he wonders if he is only an mediocre writer,
imitating a greater man’s effort. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
What separates the great from the never discovered? Whoever
wrote this screenplay had Harold Bloom’s “Anxiety of Influence” in mind. In that
essay, Bloom discusses the paradigm of the current generation: an ambitious young
man, in whatever age he lives, will always feel the pressure to live up the
legends, or “fathers”, that came before him. The greatest fear of that young
man is not necessarily that he may never be discovered and his talent
recognized, but that his contributions are merely versions, subpar attempts, of
the efforts of his “fathers”. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So, Quaid
essentially writes about his own artistic insecurities when he saddles the
handsome Cooper with thievery and the contempt of Old Man Irons. My view
deviates from here quite a bit—if the young man is meant to be anxious of his
own influences, for both their merits and their sins, he is then going to
constantly live in fear of the so-called pioneers who inspired him. Take that a
step further and you end up with a young man at war with the very sources of
his inspiration. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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Some might argue that this is the heart of how art makes
progress, and how fields continue to grow. I will not venture there. I cannot
claim to have thought very much on the subject. But I will run with this
War-With-The-Muse idea!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There is a line in the movie in which the Old Man claims, “I
loved words more than I loved the woman who inspired me to write them. [That is]
my tragedy.” Discarding the gender issue, and even the gargantuan character
that is played by the silent character “Writing”, this sentiment builds from
Bloom’s premise: we may overlook, underappreciate, or even over-appreciate the
necessary influences that shape our own self-worth. In order to be happy, in
order to create without fear or doubt, one must accept that choices are but
choices, and inspiration is simply an advantage to the act of creation. They
are springboards for action certainly, but it is the man, and not the “influences”
that redirects a life, a story, a resolution. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
At the end, Quaid has a moment where he tells the Young Girl
that the novel concludes with “no morals, no consequences”, just an
understanding that life can go on as usual, despite the horrible and tragic
choices we make. The Young Girl seems extremely put off by this, and in a rather
obvious moment, Quaid counters with the aforementioned “choose between real
life and fiction.” The screenwriters may have tried to tackle about four
different literary/social constructs, but this one is nailed (unfortunately, when
most audiences are probably too confused by the timeline to catch it): in real
life, the “story” does go on, and in so many cases our villains and our heroes
are no different from one another. They exist at a level beneath the epic reach
of fiction—because it is <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">only</i> in
fiction that we demand to actually <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">learn </i>from
the human experience. Real life? Oh gracious, how often do we dance with glee
when our mistakes go unpunished? My point exactly!</div>
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<br /></div>
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And that, Ladies and Gentlemen, will conclude me harassing
your eyes on screen. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Cheers! Now, go read a book or clean the dishes or
something.<span style="color: #741b47;"> ::wink and a smile::</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
B-Verbosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10819796524054745579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2367339330538557111.post-62028808423704979272013-01-24T14:18:00.004-05:002013-03-05T22:58:15.948-05:00Proof that the Author is indeed alive.I owe more visits to my online oasis that I can count. It has been a rough few weeks--but let's not go into that.<br />
<br />
I would rather--in an obvious attempt to avoid actually <i>writing a real post</i>--share a few sources of inspiration that others have pointed me to. Enjoy! (Credit to the sources I stole them from...I put in links...you know, so no one will sue me this year.)<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXNc1RjSkYbX1qnc_6O8-llQdFcrYqdOp2W8t-dydamA9KfIvia3kYoABenwV7E_EqJ3l7B3fGWGQlHbhTQ3JhpdbbAl7P_3eG7WIVOLB-OwdtLuwHHFXp4v6D-MQ6WrWkZAPh7EZMES8/s1600/Typewriter+teapot.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXNc1RjSkYbX1qnc_6O8-llQdFcrYqdOp2W8t-dydamA9KfIvia3kYoABenwV7E_EqJ3l7B3fGWGQlHbhTQ3JhpdbbAl7P_3eG7WIVOLB-OwdtLuwHHFXp4v6D-MQ6WrWkZAPh7EZMES8/s1600/Typewriter+teapot.jpg" height="281" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The type of invention only pseudo writer would love. </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMUAm6hDaS2mS78RvCpE-5rzeYvemVgnvP5Rrj4GCgjVRMBLjC83oTaGVSOLQpkvngF66G0Q4e3aZti4F-zwvOCC0cysmZsUWvPfGgb4RlyWEhnESm45nS_Gj542i2eqEy4n_-nu7JxhQ/s1600/Paino+Beauty.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMUAm6hDaS2mS78RvCpE-5rzeYvemVgnvP5Rrj4GCgjVRMBLjC83oTaGVSOLQpkvngF66G0Q4e3aZti4F-zwvOCC0cysmZsUWvPfGgb4RlyWEhnESm45nS_Gj542i2eqEy4n_-nu7JxhQ/s1600/Paino+Beauty.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bookshelves to transform your life: <a href="http://sobadsogood.com/2013/01/20/18-insanely-cool-creative-bookshelves-youll-wish-you-had/" target="_blank">18 Insanely Cool Bookshelves</a></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG5IYo2dbD2UBF8P5YOLbXmGOFPVQRTLyRn7kLMQK8z3kWe5FBmZF4hXJ_EhQW1TZrpeesiQ2cCE0wMeHKmR6_MwQVOwRTENI5uWvqEOEtB6AEZu3DHJSNz9V2lAoBsJFBSDQq56uS1Lw/s1600/Croquet.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG5IYo2dbD2UBF8P5YOLbXmGOFPVQRTLyRn7kLMQK8z3kWe5FBmZF4hXJ_EhQW1TZrpeesiQ2cCE0wMeHKmR6_MwQVOwRTENI5uWvqEOEtB6AEZu3DHJSNz9V2lAoBsJFBSDQq56uS1Lw/s1600/Croquet.png" height="400" width="266" /></a></td><td style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Croquet at St. John's College in Annapolis. Courtesy to <a href="http://photojournal./">Photojournal.</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.stumbleupon.com/su/2sYtyQ/:1Xjn@!SLW:Xl3PWjyM/zenpencils.com/comic/97-charles-bukowski-air-and-light-and-time-and-space/" target="_blank"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0NIGvyqPVhqHrQnE3UZfprZLoPw4R1OsytRA2H6dNYBWf2IyE1HI4zOFPOtMfe_AmlT0U9BNDBXKiCR-DRAGUkzAeKVJ1JcrxdELS2DDK2M5NhDvAC5nxcsw-r61rqPoXBukYkqTZ7CA/s1600/carotoon+awesome.jpg" /><span id="goog_1711469530"></span></a><span id="goog_1711469531"></span></div>
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<br />B-Verbosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10819796524054745579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2367339330538557111.post-21055009939007465662012-12-07T10:00:00.000-05:002012-12-07T10:00:07.491-05:00Middle Aged Love is Just More Interesting<h4>
Or at least it is in the movies.</h4>
<h4>
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Before someone goes all "well, all love stories are better in the movies! The producers are pandering to our lovesick hearts! yada yada yada", let me qualify my assertion. <br />
<br />
In the traditional 20-something romantic comedy, the grab is the classic star crossed lovers scenario, and just like a Greek chorus, we are sitting in the audience fully aware that the <i>only</i> way life will improve for our characters is if they finally hook up. So, queue the music, bring down the lights, maybe add a horse chase or some great self-deprecating speech, and our characters finally realize they can make it together! Curtain up. Story over.<br />
<br />
I should be clear: I do embrace the estrogen in my system, and I do identify with that occasional "yay! they can stop dating the wrong people and live happily together" attitude. At the end of the day, I am a romantic. I want to see the lovers end up together, or a resolution achieved, or--as in <i>500 Days of Summer</i>--the broken hearted finally heal. Are these films realistic? Probably never. But they fulfill a need to see a happy ending for people in that same stage of life as we are in. <br />
<br />
But the middle aged love story is just so much more layered; characters are richer, lives more interesting, the dynamics of desire so much more obvious. In a way, the stakes are higher for the main characters in a middle aged-love story--after all, this is likely <i>the</i> second chance at life and love. And yet, because of that very truth, the games are strangely absent (or at least way less complicated). In that cinematic middle aged love affair, the characters aren't delusional enough to believe that every new man or woman is the ONE. The hunting mentality just isn't there. We get to watch people spar and love in spades. With intelligent dialogue. All that breeds authenticity. YES.<br />
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I could die very happy knowing that I had produced a screenplay like <i>Something's Gotta Give</i>. Will I ever? Very doubtful. But why do I feel that way? The character's love affair is <u>damn</u> funny. This is a story for romantics who appreciate things that are well-written, and have a splash of the ludicrous. Both characters are stubborn, the actors themselves quite iconic, and the story feels authentic. And, armed with rapier wit, they develop a humorous, slightly combative, and complete honest affection for one another. The causal approach of their romance allows for a bit of frivolity, but the intricacies of their individual lives gloss the whole affair in the unforgettable. Jack Nicholson and Diane Keaton strike gold. Comedic and romantic gold. <br />
<br />
Another sterling example is <i>It's Complicated</i>, with Meryl Streep, Alec Baldwin, and Steve Martin. <br />
Let's look at what makes this love triangle very memorable:<br />
<br />
<ol>
<li>Every character is grown up, and successful; I don't envy Meryl's shoes, I envy her <i>kitchen. </i>Her choices are a successful businessman or genius architect. <i>Hmm.</i></li>
<li>I never see her drunkenly sleeping with some cute guy she met over spring break,<i> but</i> I do see her getting her party on with STEVE MARTIN. You know, the guy from <i>The Jerk? </i>A step up? I think so. <i><br /></i></li>
<li>Situational comedy is the bread-and-butter of a film about blended families and multi-lovers. I mean, I buy the idea that hiding your knickers from your grown up kids shoulders more urgency then hiding them from your 20-something chick roommate. </li>
</ol>
So the moral of this whole post is really a bit vague. But I think I want to be Meryl Streep but date a guy with Jack Nicholson's humor?Yeah, I may have to get back to you on that one. Just put them in your Netflix queue. <br />
<br />
<i><span style="color: #0b5394;">Oh, and I should note: I quite like dating without the "benefits" of age, and am in no hurry to advance the timeline. ;)</span></i>B-Verbosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10819796524054745579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2367339330538557111.post-13137709964658998142012-12-04T09:30:00.000-05:002012-12-04T09:30:04.903-05:00The Working Woman's Soundtrack to Surviving the Rough Day<h4>
7 AM - <span style="font-weight: normal;"><i>Wake up call </i></span></h4>
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9 AM - <span style="font-weight: normal;"><i>Walking into the Board Meeting</i></span></h4>
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1:15 PM - <span style="font-weight: normal;"><i>But then the presentation falls flat</i></span></h4>
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4:45 PM - <span style="font-weight: normal;"><i>Quittin' time is comin' late but </i></span><span style="font-weight: normal;"><i>... I can do it even better in 'broken heels'.</i></span></h4>
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7:15 PM -<span style="font-weight: normal;"><i> Lullaby for a Lover</i></span></h4>
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B-Verbosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10819796524054745579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2367339330538557111.post-53410273494748623962012-12-03T16:59:00.000-05:002013-03-05T23:00:55.922-05:00Scratch ScratchIt seems that I have sublet part of my palatial bedroom.<br />
<br />
I know<b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">—</span></b>it seems like the sort of thing one would remember doing, no?<br />
Also, I say palatial because I love the look of the word,<i> and</i> because my bedroom has ridiculous turret-like walls at 65 degree angles so-it-kind-of-resembles-a-fortress, <i>and</i> because it takes a really long time to vacuum. There are 14 walls...only three of them reach 8 feet in height. It is fanciful and fabulous. And I am irrationally possessive of the huge space; I do not want to share. <br />
<br />
Now, now. No judgements. If this were a post-apocalyptic world, I would gladly lug a bunch of twin beds up the steps and make a mini refugee camp. I am not heartless after all.<br />
<br />
But I do NOT share with scurrying, four legged creatures. Especially when they wake me from a dead sleep with their creepy, echoing, scurrying behaviors. At pre-dawn hours.<br />
<br />
I met my new "roommates" after they<b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">—</span></b>as all entitled neighbors do<b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">—</span></b>insisted upon moving around in the rafters directly above my dresser/bathroom, loudly and with no consideration of my REM cycle. The effect was an alternating hollow and high-pitched "scratch scratch" noise, coupled with the occasional sounds of cascading bullets. In hindsight, I recognize that creatures were not having a gang turf war in my ceiling: they were stockpiling acorns, a.k.a. ammo, for <i>future turf wars</i> with me. Or they have set up a bowling alley using acorns in my rafters. Either way, not good. For approximately 10 minutes, while I stared at the red digital alarm clock, I listened intently. I was trying to gauge the exact source of the noise. I was also trying to rationalize that a bat wasn't in my room. Yes, that thought crossed my mind. I mean, fortress like room? Dark? Sleepy delirium? It made sense.<br />
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Eventually, as fear turned to irritation that I was loosing precious minutes of sleep before the alarm clock sounded, I got mad. And then went mad. With no other recourse than scare tactics available to me, I grabbed an emptied wrapping paper dowel (tis the season for wrapping gifts) and started WHACKING the ceiling in short furious bursts of energy. I went so far as to adopt a strategy for noisy disruption: "X" and "W" formations with the dowel. Also note, I was freezing, in PJs, still in the dark, and totally channeling a bad martial arts film with cries of, "Hi-yight!" I parried, I sliced, I made dramatic jumping movements designed to stun! Because, they have x-ray vision and could see my intimidation tactics through the ceiling plaster, of course.<br />
<br />
It didn't work. Breathless and nervy, and a complete mess, I listened as they ignored me. And my shoulders slumped in disappointment, and I did the only rational thing: I decided to force Sisterita awake to share in my plight. She did not, I believe, appreciate my efforts to include her in my turf war.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The nemesis I imagine.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
I feel like Zoe Deschanel's character in <i>Failure to Launch</i>; the pacifist is driven completely mad by a mockingbird and nearly robs a gun counter to find relief. I will not, I assure you, take this tactic. But I have no idea if a) I am dealing with mice, squirrels, mischievous gnomes, or hobgoblins, or b) how to GET RID OF THEM.<br />
<br />
Help?<br />
<br />
<i>Also, remember me describing the room like a fortress? Well, fortresses with weird noises are creepy. And it was pre-dawn, so I woke up to weird noises in the dark. The whole situation kind of made me whimper a little bit. My samurai bravado was a complete farce--but if enough sleepless nights persist, I will pass by terror in favor of rage. I don't like the scurrying. At all. ::GULP::</i><br />
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<br />B-Verbosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10819796524054745579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2367339330538557111.post-45004102488215398042012-11-28T17:15:00.001-05:002012-11-28T17:17:47.692-05:00If This Moment Had a Soundtrack<h4>
Monday.</h4>
<br />
This moment tells the tale of a mismatched pair...featuring some tight jeans. <br />
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Tuesday.</h4>
<br />
This moment is changing gears and changing attitudes.<br />
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Wednesday.</h4>
<br />
This moment of joy-inspired choreography (and Joseph Gordon Levitt) should happen every damn day.<br />
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Thursday. </h4>
<br />
This moment marvels at the audacity of the entitled.<br />
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Friday.</h4>
<br />
This moment is scandalous and powerful.<br />
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Saturday.</h4>
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</h4>
This moment is all about a low key rhythm and a surprising sound. <br />
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Sunday.</h4>
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</h4>
This moment feels like Sunday.<br />
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<br />B-Verbosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10819796524054745579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2367339330538557111.post-22759590644027546172012-11-27T12:15:00.000-05:002013-03-05T22:59:01.657-05:00Illogical Logic<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">A <b>logic model</b> (also known as a logical framework, theory of
change, or program matrix) is a tool used most often by managers and
evaluators of programs to evaluate the effectiveness of a program .
Logic models are usually a graphical depiction of the logical
relationships between the resources, activities, outputs and outcomes of
a program. <span style="color: black;"> </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #0b5394; font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: black;">~ </span></span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="reference-text"><span class="citation web">McCawley, Paul. <span style="color: black;"><a class="external text" href="http://www.uiweb.uidaho.edu/extension/LogicModel.pdf" rel="nofollow">"The logic model for program planning and evaluation"</a>. University of Idaho. </span></span></span></span></i></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="reference-text"><span class="citation web">I like this definition; it is clear, concise considering its subject, and Wikipedia gave it to me. And I love 96% of the things on Wikipedia. Mostly because it is a fun to say..."Wicc*a*pe*de-ah" Melodius.</span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="reference-text"><span class="citation web">But, despite the inherent singularity of the word "model", there is no such thing as the standard logic model. Why? Well, for all of my work in this field, I still cannot answer that. </span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="reference-text"><span class="citation web">Perhaps it is because funders and program evaluators want to ensure that a model reflects the unique circumstances of a program's design; perhaps it is because the program has unique funding considerations; perhaps it is due to the subject matter--a plan for implementing an online training is quite different than one outlining a plan to feed the hungry in Kenya; or perhaps, it is because logic itself is fluid and not easily contained by "structures."</span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="reference-text"><span class="citation web">All valid considerations. </span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="reference-text"><span class="citation web">But every now and then, I think the variations exist just to spite me. Variations are creative, artistic, phenomenal! I love them! Poetry in table form! (Go with it.) That is, until you have to rewrite an evaluation plan in non-evaluation terms. And then, my dear friends, you begin to lose your hair. Slowly, and with sweet agony. Because at some point, describing your "plan" for evaluation and measurement of a program--whether non profit or profit oriented--requires several formats: there is the "donor" or customer format, which puts things into simple terms; there is the "Board member" or investor format, which requires that you overlay sustainability planning (translation: funding or profit) <i>over</i> the program design (sometimes a logic model is so impossible to decipher, this becomes sheer wizardry); there is the staff format, which includes internal goals such as the number of service recipients, or total products delivered; and then there is the public health format. Otherwise known as the "completely logical, always inconsistent, and ultimately fluid universe".</span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="reference-text"><span class="citation web">I live here now. </span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="reference-text"><span class="citation web"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="reference-text"><span class="citation web">For those of you not working in program delivery, Non Government Organizations (NGOs), or domestic nonprofits, the logic model is your "guide to action". It doesn't replace a strategic/business plan, nor does it serve as the action plan (or "how to and when"); the logic model allows you a framework to follow around measurement and evaluation. If properly designed and consistently executed, the logic model will tell you exactly where your program's strengths and weaknesses are. And it will set the stage for analyzing your program's impact and determining where you will go next. It is program efficiency in the making.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="reference-text"><span class="citation web"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="reference-text"><span class="citation web">And it can be convoluted. Examples:</span></span></span><br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUJbn_9ABP6zd1oqTQgjNHjB53MhVbx5cl1CjrrXtz5daBEyjKescnK9cUHTMCRH2XO2K-tUzmfRZbrfHLjaFSseNMYSGEee5d06iLKgDavZBr9VrlN1O_ZT2cR2C0X20-v7czaTZR9Ro/s1600/logicmodel+U+of+Wisconsin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUJbn_9ABP6zd1oqTQgjNHjB53MhVbx5cl1CjrrXtz5daBEyjKescnK9cUHTMCRH2XO2K-tUzmfRZbrfHLjaFSseNMYSGEee5d06iLKgDavZBr9VrlN1O_ZT2cR2C0X20-v7czaTZR9Ro/s1600/logicmodel+U+of+Wisconsin.jpg" height="203" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Fairly typical.</i> <br />
Courtesy of the University of Wisconsin.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="reference-text"><span class="citation web"></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="reference-text"><span class="citation web"></span></span></span>
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<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1MfWIb14GHUGLBGgT7mqR0UOdk6pkbj8Ned5VupMw4VbugfcQyRXasALHNI5jW2HLGlYp_Juuf7KWj_2x9XxYNMSkR5XiYZ8gjIc4h4yl1hmToKJH34lZr523m3caD_DPYVcC3rVsEnc/s1600/Educators+logic+model.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1MfWIb14GHUGLBGgT7mqR0UOdk6pkbj8Ned5VupMw4VbugfcQyRXasALHNI5jW2HLGlYp_Juuf7KWj_2x9XxYNMSkR5XiYZ8gjIc4h4yl1hmToKJH34lZr523m3caD_DPYVcC3rVsEnc/s1600/Educators+logic+model.png" height="196" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Typical...except for that triangle Venn Diagram thing. I mean, sheesh.<br />Courtesy of the Education Model Program Design.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimYDLbt3qotyauz-jwxtFaHdgZ5eQGIF5pi1ghiJKHFwCsjd53QUjDVofU-kysMy1C7qMfh-vc5PHDKAac_jgtDajKUuel-bKYjBI9hxnjDsjzT8DGG_J93vED7C1cVfHDDGYk_5Fljzo/s1600/logic-v+performance.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimYDLbt3qotyauz-jwxtFaHdgZ5eQGIF5pi1ghiJKHFwCsjd53QUjDVofU-kysMy1C7qMfh-vc5PHDKAac_jgtDajKUuel-bKYjBI9hxnjDsjzT8DGG_J93vED7C1cVfHDDGYk_5Fljzo/s1600/logic-v+performance.gif" height="248" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>When your program needs "flying geese." </i><br />
Actually, I really do appreciate <a href="http://www.performanceweb.org/services/logic-model/" target="_blank">The Performance Institute's</a> approach</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7yFzg8wvXOumIxrzvD0PVcAwoTypbxGvqIi359q4GMKDp8PsUxBmEp9FHoGOMf83A-7e0QVcckn-R9DoXJK5DmmbxnDD9_88qqbVwKfyMjq1Jq81kR-iq2DJcNOqt5wFMe4UZfi0cLx4/s1600/Public+Health+Obesity+Logic+Model.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7yFzg8wvXOumIxrzvD0PVcAwoTypbxGvqIi359q4GMKDp8PsUxBmEp9FHoGOMf83A-7e0QVcckn-R9DoXJK5DmmbxnDD9_88qqbVwKfyMjq1Jq81kR-iq2DJcNOqt5wFMe4UZfi0cLx4/s1600/Public+Health+Obesity+Logic+Model.gif" height="320" width="268" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And then there is the <a href="http://www.health.ny.gov/prevention/obesity/strategic_plan/appendix_iii.htm" target="_blank">Public Health Model on Obesity for the state of New York</a>. <br />
You see where things get...expansive. I do not work on things such as this daily--<br />
I simply go by it to create the local versions as a "sub program" component (or some such nonsense).</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Do share: how would <i>you </i>find a <i>consistent way</i> of describing these visual variations? Two such innocuous words: logic and model. Until you pair them with concepts like measurement. Or evaluation. Or B-Verbose's brain. Like all things that are mind-boggling, this too will make me a better a writer. Maybe?<br />
<br />B-Verbosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10819796524054745579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2367339330538557111.post-85031044574265042712012-11-20T11:54:00.000-05:002012-11-20T11:55:56.070-05:00If This Moment Had a Soundtrack <h4>
Monday.</h4>
This moment is infectious. Dance-around-your-living-room-sweet? Oh yes.<br />
<br />
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<h4>
Tuesday.</h4>
"Run the world? Darling, didn't you know that I already am?"<br />
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<h4>
<b>Wednesday. </b></h4>
This moment is inexplicably fun. <b><br /></b><br />
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<h4>
<b>Thursday.</b></h4>
<br />
This moment pays homage to one of the greatest improvisational vocalists of our time. <br />
<b> </b><br />
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<b> </b><br />
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<h4>
<b>Friday. </b></h4>
This moment is for your inner rock star.<br />
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<h4>
<b>Saturday. </b></h4>
<b> </b>This moment is...<i>unexpected.</i><br />
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<h4>
Sunday.</h4>
This moment transports you to foreign shores (even if the video is less than pleasing). <br />
<i></i><br />
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<i></i><br />B-Verbosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10819796524054745579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2367339330538557111.post-54568350061398751192012-11-15T09:00:00.000-05:002013-03-05T22:56:54.807-05:00The Working Woman's Woes: A Bit of a Wild Hair<h4 itemprop="articleBody">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">"Can’t someone who can conjugate French verbs, write statistically dense
research papers and explicate the poetry of William Blake be trained in
computer programming, supply-chain management and other skills valued by
hiring managers? An entire generation hopes that C.E.O.’s somewhere
believe that giving them an opportunity is the right — and the smart —
thing to do."</span></h4>
<h4 itemprop="articleBody" style="text-align: right;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>Robert W. Goldfarb, Management Consultant, Author<br /><span style="color: #741b47;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Read the full article <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2012/11/11/jobs/bridging-the-hiring-gap-for-college-graduates.html?ref=education&pagewanted=print" target="_blank">HERE</a></span></span></i></span></h4>
<div itemprop="articleBody" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">On my recent wanderings on the New York Times Website--a special note of appreciation to RoroBird for turning me on to daily visits--I discovered an Op-Ed targeting the education vs workplace divide. Well, what better fodder for the <i>"<a href="http://navigatingthenuances.blogspot.com/2011/11/working-womans-woes-overview.html" target="_blank">Working Woman's Woes</a>" </i>serial?<i>! </i>And from such a recognized source!<i><br /></i></span></div>
<div itemprop="articleBody" style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div itemprop="articleBody" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I must say, for all the great and relevant points the author makes, and there are many, Mr. Goldfard paints a bleak picture of the job marketplace. </span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I found the entire piece a bit resigned in tone. </span>And that, my good friends, I refuse to accept. The job marketplace <i>has</i> changed, but that doesn't mean the tide hasn't turned in some <i>positive </i>ways. A diploma is less impressive these days than a varied and tiered resume (at an impossibly young professional age). Employers DO want to see discipline, experience, and some level of improving performance before taking a risk on an employee. All points, by the way, that Mr. Goldfard cites. He even appeals (almost without any hope) to CEOs to see beyond the "hard skills" that many Liberal Arts graduates may be lacking initially, and value their learned appreciation for working in dynamic, multi- fields and systems. As a Liberal Arts degree holder, I couldn't agree more.</span></div>
<div itemprop="articleBody" style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div itemprop="articleBody" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>EVEN the most technologically innovative companies benefit from having a
balance of employees — most with technical degrees, others with broader
educations. Valuable products and services emerge from the clash of
ideas between analytical professionals and managers whose greatest
strength is their intuitiveness. ~Goldfarb</i></span></span></div>
</blockquote>
But, despite all of the obstacles, there <i>is</i> a shifting tide. A new breed of very interesting professionals has developed: the A La Carte Employee. Please do not immediately interpret this phrase negatively; I use "a la carte" in this context to describe a generation of professionals who have become quite creative in their quest to build a varied resume, and still circumvent the "entry level" employment race.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZruGbmvKweOtL6p0KsYP8XLDiXhzSCqkVKOEK4JlvKv9AAen_DVoLhtmKEhLvAsE2Z6gTKgw3UaFMjWlxrFGLZnG5eiNjHXFu-_a_cDWqrTHZ2grgl2on5zVgFMDMeT2m07-vbauKW6E/s1600/chairs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZruGbmvKweOtL6p0KsYP8XLDiXhzSCqkVKOEK4JlvKv9AAen_DVoLhtmKEhLvAsE2Z6gTKgw3UaFMjWlxrFGLZnG5eiNjHXFu-_a_cDWqrTHZ2grgl2on5zVgFMDMeT2m07-vbauKW6E/s1600/chairs.jpg" height="223" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Many friends, myself included, have walked circuitous paths toward developing a career. Some people do still head straight to the top, and I am <i>proud</i> of them. Some professionals still practice the "foot in the door" tradition: hold a full time job in administrative role, and wait to climb your way up in a company. This works sometimes--but often, the wait can be long. Or, these folks use the buffer of being gainfully employed to job hop into another company. The way I see it, that is not indicative of a lack of employee dedication. It frustrates me to hear employers complain about "unmotivated" professionals. Yes, I know some members of my age bracket have confused the instant-gratification expectation of Twitter with the real world. But the majority of us are not that dense. We know we must work hard to achieve something at a young age. Or at all. Talented, young employees are jumping ship because businesses are afraid to resume the old practice of laying out an attractive promotional path. To build talent, you need diverse workers: to <i>keep</i> talent, you need encourage their development (and consequently, their dedication to your company). It doesn't need to be a fast track, but there needs to be a track. Anyone hearing me out there?<br />
<br />
Back to my main point--the "a la carte" professional. A few years ago, I worked retail part time in order to bridge an employment gap. During that time, I met graduate students, engineers, and recent graduates all in the same boat. The inspiring thing about that environment (when we weren't singing the "full time pay, where are you!?" song), was the creativity used by young professionals to change their situation. One was working part time retail, while moonlighting his graphic skills to a non profit, building a solid portfolio and networking; another was working on a vocational degree by evenings to pair with his liberal arts education; another launched a low cost enterprise based on cleaning houses, and organizing wealthy ladies' closets (not kidding). Others, myself included, continued honing our previously employed skills with contracted work, spending our evenings researching new markets, and looking for innovative ways to interpret old industry needs. Or fields to which we might need to transition. Others volunteered, or made great contacts with their regular customers, and thus landed them a job. But the entire group had one thing in common--and this is true no matter what "bridge" field a person is working (or volunteering) in--they used innate skill sets in a wide range of activities, relying on their resiliency and intuition to tackle completely foreign problems. I mean, how many engineers are public speakers? Or how many finance educated professionals do you know who can plan a staff event? But, those incidences showed flexibility, and an "a la carte" approach to professional training. Basically, they volunteered to be stressed out just to have an opportunity to <i>learn. </i>Amazing how those old sayings, like "life is the best teacher", always turn back up, isn't it?<br />
<br />
This "a la carte" group came away with what exactly? Well, experience in customer service, problem resolution, team environments, a newly sharpened ability to self-motivate, and the oh-so-valuable experience of trail and error. The "a la carte" group could quite effectively demonstrate that "hard skills"--or those particular to one type of employment position--weren't the wheels that kept the cart moving: the individual talent was the key. Many employers are beginning to see the benefits of hiring young professionals with competence over traditional experience. But I never claimed the wave is fast moving. So, take advantage of whatever employment situation you find yourself in. If you are unhappily employed, keep on finding new things to try on the side. If you are unemployed, pair your traditional job hunt with some random experiences that will make you a better person. At the end of the day, investing in your own competency and personal skill sets is the way to a) get noticed by current employers for recognition, b) improve your visibility in the job market, and c) ensure that the job you land, you will have the confidence to carry. <br />
<br />
Plus, doesn't "a la carte" give you that little bit of adventure that we all crave? I am still waiting on someone to ask me to write a consumer review of skydiving. So far, no one has called. But I haven't given up hope of dancing on the "edge" with my technical expertise!<br />
<div class="authorIdentification">
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B-Verbosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10819796524054745579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2367339330538557111.post-28801127190511825162012-11-13T09:00:00.000-05:002012-11-13T09:00:00.800-05:00If This Moment Had a Soundtrack<br />
<h4>
Monday.</h4>
This moment is bluesy and just a little bit ready to fight. Already aware that today's victor might not be you, you are content to wail your way into infamy. And to leave a bloody trail. <br />
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<h4>
</h4>
<h4>
Tuesday. </h4>
This moment is ambitious and tormented. Every decision is an opportunity for second guessing, for
regret, for redemption. <br />
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<h4>
Wednesday.</h4>
This moment is open. The world is merely voyeuristic and you are ready for the tactile.<br />
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<h4>
Thursday.</h4>
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<br />
This moment is brazen.<br />
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<h4>
Friday.</h4>
This moment is heady, euphoric. A moment in "reckless abandon". A stop over in a week full of stop overs.<br />
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<h4>
</h4>
<h4>
Saturday.</h4>
This moment is conquered. Tame the game, topple the players, and dance across the stage in celebration.<br />
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<h4>
Sunday.</h4>
This moment is nostalgic. It is appreciation for every friend that has traveled the road with you. <br />
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B-Verbosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10819796524054745579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2367339330538557111.post-71986956465050757082012-11-11T22:45:00.003-05:002012-11-12T23:47:35.329-05:00Shameless<h4>
It has never been one of my ambitions to make history by breaking all the rules.</h4>
<br />
I respect the men and women who have. In their rebellion, they have overhauled systems of law and commerce; these warriors have lived passionate lives, full of heroics, and they carry the torch of the "American Rebel" spirit into every new generation. Our pace of progress rests on their shoulders. Where would we be--in this modern age--without those individuals? <br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<b><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cornelius_Vanderbilt" target="_blank">Vanderbilt</a>, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_D._Rockefeller" target="_blank">Rockefeller</a>, Carnegie, and <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/J._P._Morgan" target="_blank">J.P. Morgan</a></b> (for better or worse) would never have pushed the envelopes of business and created the trust culture <i>which </i>financed our greatest industrial age. Nor would they have been the giants whose <i>fall </i>ushered in the rise of the middle class.</blockquote>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBk4Sr9ii_KmT8oZJwhEnyUq490qF1e79dD4kSAWyJ78y4kWH8ZcxMCuZoGaoocGtAut_TSkckEEaHaIBjcoUNeDzq2sEdjWOFr36XcGV6YoG8kLl1RkFoyVNpAQJqLHUrLvcxidWknQE/s1600/AndrewCarnegie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBk4Sr9ii_KmT8oZJwhEnyUq490qF1e79dD4kSAWyJ78y4kWH8ZcxMCuZoGaoocGtAut_TSkckEEaHaIBjcoUNeDzq2sEdjWOFr36XcGV6YoG8kLl1RkFoyVNpAQJqLHUrLvcxidWknQE/s1600/AndrewCarnegie.jpg" width="274" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Carnegie looks cuddly, doesn't he?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<br />
<br />
<b>Gloria Steinem</b>, and her peers, would never have become the megaphones for feminism; and we might still ignorant of how low the "glass ceiling" could hang.<br />
<br />
<b><a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2011/10/09/opinion/sunday/the-glass-ceiling.html" target="_blank">Sandra Day O'Connor</a></b> might never have brought her brand of justice to that very important bench. </blockquote>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw4wmcKYdS3HJdiLN-B3iaovclf7csnNw1lpQkOb0uLq3IVfhiSgXiiXHm3LwfmLnFlgRRPCIjoa4uZ_PtedfiBIEO3Tco2n_0Ix0fre935mY0eSdl-JNpfIFeVeq8F0-dro7lIYNKe8E/s1600/Sandra_Day_Oconnor.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="243" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw4wmcKYdS3HJdiLN-B3iaovclf7csnNw1lpQkOb0uLq3IVfhiSgXiiXHm3LwfmLnFlgRRPCIjoa4uZ_PtedfiBIEO3Tco2n_0Ix0fre935mY0eSdl-JNpfIFeVeq8F0-dro7lIYNKe8E/s1600/Sandra_Day_Oconnor.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Harvey Milk would never had changed the political landscape for the LGBT community.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.guardian.co.uk/film/2010/mar/08/kathryn-bigelow-oscars-best-director" target="_blank">Kathyrn Bigelow's </a>remarkable cinematic storytelling might never have led to the first Oscar for a female director; more importantly, her storytelling in a male dominated world might never have been heard.</blockquote>
<br />
All impressive, all noteworthy...the list could go on, and on, and on. The warriors of our collective national history found rule books and they did what unlikely leaders do best: they broke every rule they did not like. <br />
<br />
<h4>
But there is another sort of individual who makes history: the Guileless Innovator. </h4>
<h4>
</h4>
The individual whose pioneering efforts created the incredible, the new, and the desperately-in-need-of-regulation category. And maybe, just maybe, they never meant to start a movement. These are the folks that bring a secret smile of admiration to my face. They never went to "war," or overhauled a system. Their mark on history is unquestionable--but their approach so very eloquent: these men and women did what they did first, and so they predated the rules and regulations of their so-called industries. <br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Mary Kay Ash, the entrepreneur, needed a business model that could grow while she slept. One that would allow her to succeed based on the quality of effort she put forward, rather than the scale set forth by a corporate culture. So, she launched a cosmetics company that has provided millions of women with financial independence over three decades. A model that is now mimicked by hundreds of boutique American businesses.<br />
<br />
Oprah Winfrey, Media Mogul, tackled daytime television when daytime television was a breeding ground for little more than soap operas and appliance commercials. Sure, she knocked down several racial barriers in her career as a journalist, but her unexpected achivement came later. She built a platform on which the feuding (post feminist divide) Domestic Female could connect to her Career-Culture counterpart. On national television. She probably also inflamed a consumerism problem ("My Favorite Things"), but let's share credit where credit is due.<br />
<br />
Jimmy Wales, the co-founder of the Wikipedia Foundation, saw an
opportunity to create shared knowledge among nations, peoples, and
neighbors. His presence in the modern subconscious is certainly as
strong as that of Mark Zuckerburg, and <i>his</i> Facebook creation. The
difference? Wales invited the world to share in authorship. And created
one of the most visited information resources on the planet, with more
information kept on its pages than in the lost library of Alexandria. </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix0NkGUuLgq9oXL8r5q9jnwJ6zUozozjae1d-6b25MM7yBLJc25pMx0bjMdPvHzt_bdAFChFM21ijxFXAFf1b00RFCylCUvzrXO2ekv-7pKEPNCNMTD7AEpUtkrFlpbNBdQCP4z7jfeaU/s1600/Annex+-+Shearer,+Norma+(Strangers+May+Kiss)_01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix0NkGUuLgq9oXL8r5q9jnwJ6zUozozjae1d-6b25MM7yBLJc25pMx0bjMdPvHzt_bdAFChFM21ijxFXAFf1b00RFCylCUvzrXO2ekv-7pKEPNCNMTD7AEpUtkrFlpbNBdQCP4z7jfeaU/s1600/Annex+-+Shearer,+Norma+(Strangers+May+Kiss)_01.jpg" width="280" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
And, arguably, my favorite woman of cinema: the seductive, guileless Queen of Metro Goldwyn Meyer, Norma Shearer. The first time that I saw the film <i>The Women</i>, I was transfixed by this beautiful, gregarious starlet. Charming, witty and so very <i>present.</i> And I wondered why I had only a vague memory of her name. Well, one quick look into Tinseltown's history and you will find a woman credited with every (though few) brave cinematic roles in Pre-Code Hollywood. She played a naive little divorcee, a royal adulteress, and in <i>The Women</i>, a housewife who refuses to pretend that her husband's infidelity is not cause for a trip to Reno. In pre-code Hollywood there were no rules. Society may have had them, but no one had yet to say that the theater or cinematic world was a place for censorship. This was art. She was the first talkie super star. And, after all, if Shakespeare's crude comedies were still getting stage time, why not a shattered housewife, desperate to maintain her dignity while struggling with love for her husband? Well, Code Hollywood reacted to the lovely Norma with many restrictions. Script content was monitored, clothing choices were scrutinized. The lovely Queen of MGM? She simply took off her tiara, influenced the producer's chair and steered cinema into new waters by her hubby's side (Mr. MGM himself).</blockquote>
<br />
So, in the grand tradition of <i>Navigating the Nuances</i>, I bring you a topic from the far left field to consider. If the legacy were to be yours, which would you rather:<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<h4>
Be a rebel who finds victory in the spotlight, </h4>
</blockquote>
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<h4>
Or be the guileless innovator who makes history before the spotlight <i>has even caught up</i>?</h4>
</blockquote>
<br />B-Verbosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10819796524054745579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2367339330538557111.post-78636691408983646772012-10-29T22:18:00.001-04:002012-11-13T21:15:13.555-05:00Smithereens<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">Hurricane Sandy arrived today. She
is currently sweeping her way across the eastern shore, sending millions into
the realm of blinking and/or knocked out lights. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt1r1xpTYSUfi6BfxSkBqIAD3xK9vZd-6T8BpiD9C8UI1ju1EYQamOnO8jk98hhurxNiNjCiqduoRii-6ktQflksLgtZuoU404quuOLUtQi-iHJjv2wZr9k2CU0wery3jqcJXvS2mA2ao/s1600/pumpkin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt1r1xpTYSUfi6BfxSkBqIAD3xK9vZd-6T8BpiD9C8UI1ju1EYQamOnO8jk98hhurxNiNjCiqduoRii-6ktQflksLgtZuoU404quuOLUtQi-iHJjv2wZr9k2CU0wery3jqcJXvS2mA2ao/s200/pumpkin.jpg" width="200" /></a></span></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Sandy got her in the end</i>.</span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">Her trail across the northern sky is
made up of breached riverbanks (sorry tri-city area), autumn debris (R.I.P my
stylish pumpkin) and brilliant curses (please reference @AHurricaneSandy). As
stories go, some winners here.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">But we are not on the coast. We are
not flooded. And the "hurricane party" that Sisterita and I threw
ourselves was one step above a normal Monday and <a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=2367339330538557111#editor/target=post;postID=5820919684484537800;onPublishedMenu=allposts;onClosedMenu=allposts;postNum=35;src=postname"><i><span style="color: blue;">one step below the brunch of 2011</span></i></a>. And no
where near the infamy of 2008's string of Charlie, Irene and
that-storm-whose-name-I-still-cannot-be-bothered-to-remember.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">On the bright side there is pie.
There is wine. There is even a smorgasbord of cooked meats and sides (Sisterita
cooks when anxious)! And we have candles that smell like cider and things are
lovely!</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">Aside from the fact that the door is
being whipped mercilessly by the wind, there is a nice calm around the place.
It is an old house; thus, it creaks. We may end up with some spiderweb cracking
in some areas. But, you know. Things happen.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">There are a few great lessons to be
learned for the observant 20-something in a situation like this! Allow me to
share the not-so-obvious (and a few of the truly obvious) lessons with you: </span></span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivFUSkzsmmEDH_pAOCBtHw43AQ8cmKbZuKMy3BZoZv-87GAIlYtR7sltSHzwWRBqGRslMH8ZolDvnlUI-dHm0692bjaHoUUVVRHxFkCHRAGO7nIDGo16TCh7HtKDYSfiTF1RjSC6Pe-Qc/s1600/Candles.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivFUSkzsmmEDH_pAOCBtHw43AQ8cmKbZuKMy3BZoZv-87GAIlYtR7sltSHzwWRBqGRslMH8ZolDvnlUI-dHm0692bjaHoUUVVRHxFkCHRAGO7nIDGo16TCh7HtKDYSfiTF1RjSC6Pe-Qc/s320/Candles.jpg" width="240" /></a></span></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Catholic Candles!</i></span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<ol start="1" type="1">
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b><span style="color: #0b5394;">There is no excuse for poorly chosen
footwear in Hurricane season.</span></b><span style="color: #0b5394;"> </span>I watched a small child today
run around in flip flops. I stared at her mother with complete judgment;
ignoring the obvious problem of the maelstrom named Sandy, it is 39
degrees outside. As in SEVEN degrees above freezing. </span></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"> <b><span style="color: #0b5394;">Wine is <i>just</i>
as important as water.</span></b><span style="color: #0b5394;"> </span>Yes,
I said it. We have three global regions and four grapes represented in
four separate bottles. Obviously, we will not drink them all, but for true
hurricane preparedness, you simply musn't forget the important things. </span></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b><span style="color: #0b5394;">We live in a society obsessed by
sensational images...especially fake ones.</span></b><span style="color: #0b5394;"> </span>Aside
from the proud patriotic shot from the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, I have
to say, <i><a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/10/29/fake-hurricane-sandy-photos-internet-northeast_n_2041283.html"><span style="color: blue;">these images never seemed all that real to me...</span></a></i></span></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b><span style="color: #0b5394;">Candles are not cheap--unless you go the
Catholic route.</span></b> That's right, Sisterita and I
opted for the very, very economical choice of advent candles. Seriously.
We saved $3.00 a candle! And they have a Guardian Angel on them! Now,
while I am not sure that I am any more protected, we certainly have
covered the bases. It has the additional advantage of helping our prayers
turn the rain into falling droplets of wine...see Lesson #2. </span></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b><span style="color: #0b5394;">Hurricane preparedness requires candy.</span></b><b><span style="color: #351c75;"> </span></b><span style="color: black;">Especially</span><b><span style="color: #351c75;"> </span></b>in anticipation of Halloween. </span></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b><span style="color: #0b5394;">Nothing is sacred.</span></b> <i><span style="color: #274e13;"><a href="https://twitter.com/@ahurricanesandy"><span style="color: blue;">@AHurricaneSandy</span></a></span></i></span></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b><span style="color: #0b5394;">Work is a last priority.</span></b> I am not sure if this is a lesson? Or a simple truth?
But something about the natural world all topsy turvy makes a person a
little less obsessed with reports and the like. </span></span></li>
</ol>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>Yeah.
I just really wanted a post entitled "Smithereens." Sorry that
nothing was actually destroyed in the making of this post. </b></span></span></div>
B-Verbosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10819796524054745579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2367339330538557111.post-4339990848848795542012-10-28T21:42:00.000-04:002012-11-12T23:45:01.825-05:00Window Dressing?<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This week, I am not fit to mingle with normal people.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Perhaps, in another month, during another week, this would
be a false statement. I like people. I enjoy conversation. I accept that any
stranger could become a friend—you know, assuming he or she has good hygiene. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
On the whole, I frolic through life with a smile, seemingly
competent and at ease with my surroundings.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But this week, I am just off balance enough to be dangerous. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<h4 class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #741b47;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Morning Rituals</i></span></h4>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #741b47;"></span>Without getting into the weeds, accept my claim that this
week has been very busy with work. Early, early (did I mention early?) mornings
have met with very late nights; afternoons have been rushed, leaving no time
for cooked meals, the gym, or a much-needed oil change. My car and my body
continue to make their disapproval known.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It takes an extra 5 seconds to process Sisterita’s question
about buying more coffee, and I often find myself approaching the microwave
with fresh produce in my hands (which would have ended quite badly). One morning,
I put on two different heels...of differing heights. If I was the daring
sartorial sort, that <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">could</i> have been
forgiven as avant garde. Alas, it was simply sleep deprived delirium. There are
several to-do lists floating around in my brain, and they are distracting me.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And, Good Reader, a preoccupied me is a <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">very</i> dangerous me. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I locked myself, quite <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">consciously</i>,
out of my house and car. I actually locked the door and pulled it shut as I was
mentally going through the steps, “<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Grab
lunchbox, have my coat, oh yeah, the keys…” </i>Door closes. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<h4 class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #741b47;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Aftermath: Perspective
in the Present</i></span></h4>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I stand there—disbelief and astonishment staring back at me
from the glass reflection of the door. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Surely to be late to an important data meeting, this
requires me to execute a series of humiliating exercises:</div>
<ol>
<li><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"></span></span></span>Alert my boss and her boss (Chair of the board,
anyone?) to my folly. <span style="color: #351c75;">“<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Yes. No. I knew it
was locked. No, I don’t have a spare in my mailbox. Yes, I may have to do a
B&E.”</i></span></li>
<li>Curse loudly as I try to wiggle the doorknob
open. Futile effort if there ever was one.</li>
<li>Walk around aimlessly in the yard in search of
an open window.</li>
<li>Locate an unlatched window to realize that it is
FAR too high to climb into. Use the <span style="color: #351c75;"><b>TRASH CAN </b></span>to climb high enough to open the
window…fail to shimmy into the open space.</li>
<li>Visit every neighbor on the block in search of a
step ladder.</li>
<li> Finally, wake the next door neighbor, who plays
Marvin Gaye at all hours of the day, and request assistance.</li>
</ol>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4oF_M5IJig85tL_5T6cuWF6HHBiNG8wD0dRtobWRG_qVckd2DJUx-4AX4HxyT30T6M66sWIYYQU-uPzqQ2IntNOCljzSTYLuMil39-Zjyc292UmAZG8SpEgdr9_Dane1OYQTlVQucMiA/s1600/Heel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4oF_M5IJig85tL_5T6cuWF6HHBiNG8wD0dRtobWRG_qVckd2DJUx-4AX4HxyT30T6M66sWIYYQU-uPzqQ2IntNOCljzSTYLuMil39-Zjyc292UmAZG8SpEgdr9_Dane1OYQTlVQucMiA/s1600/Heel.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The 4 inch heels</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"></span></span>Well, Marvin-Gaye-the-Neighbor rescued me. He judged me the
entire time. I mean, who wouldn’t? I showed up on his doorstep, with lots of
unnecessary hand gestures and apologies—while describing my trash can climbing
attempts—in a silk dress and <span style="color: #0000ee;"><u>4 inch heels.</u></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Not only did he come over to assess the situation, but he
CLIMBED my trash can when his stool was too short, and climbed into the
bathroom window. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
…his shorts may have gotten stuck on the brick. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He may (or may not) have lost his shorts, revealing his
preference for “Commando” dress style in the process. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I may (or may not) have stood below wondering why the hell
my parents gave all the common sense to Sisterita.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After the fastest house-crossing trip in history,
Marvin-Gaye-the-Neighbor let me into my own door AND wheeled the trash can
around front for me.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I am too embarrassed to take him “thank you” cookies, but I feel
it is absolutely required.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<h4 class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="color: #741b47;">Resolution ~ I had a spare key made this week. </span></i></h4>
B-Verbosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10819796524054745579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2367339330538557111.post-90240865493915054032012-10-14T23:31:00.001-04:002012-10-14T23:31:40.401-04:00Medicating the Malaise<h4>
<i><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></span></i></h4>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="color: #741b47;">Malaise is a highly non-specific symptom and causes can range from the slightest ailment, such as an emotion or hunger, to the most serious. Generally speaking, malaise expresses a patient's feeling that
"something is not right", like a general warning light, but only a
medical examination can determine the cause. ~ Condun</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Along the wall of every living room, there should live a bookcase. Whether it is home to four hard cover favorites, or one hundred soon-to-be-read paperbacks, the goal should be the same: give ready access to the words and subjects that define your mental landscape.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Lofty wording, huh? It cannot be helped. I could edit that sentence twenty times, and I would still sound pompous. In reality, I just love superfluous language, and whatever snobbish tone that creates is entirely incidental. But more than that - more than any need to indulge in nuanced definitions and vocabulary - is the healing effect of language that sets my tongue loose. The craft of story telling elevates the spirit, and its creations are a balm when the battle of life directs its arrows at your back.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Ambitious writing, whether in prose or poetry, creates a reaction; for a
reader in search of something, the writing is transformative in some
way, revealing a new perspective or answer to some grand debate; but,
for those readers who stumble upon good writing, quite without intention
or conscious thought, the reaction is reaffirming. And the best kinds
of reading accidents end with reaffirmation of something once lost <span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">– </span>like an idea or personal truth <span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">– </span>and they do so against all logic or design. </div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #20124d;"><b>And those things that do best please me/ <br />That befal preposterously. <br /><span style="font-size: small;">~ Puck (<i>A Misummer Night's Dream, </i>III, ii)</span></b></span></span></blockquote>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://moreintelligentlife.com/files/Books2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="291" id="il_fi" src="http://moreintelligentlife.com/files/Books2.jpg" style="padding-bottom: 8px; padding-right: 8px; padding-top: 8px;" width="400" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
If at any point I feel stressed or discontent with my circumstances, I can cure those symptoms of malaise by <i>seeking out</i> my favorite works. It might surprise you to know that one of those favorites is actually an email from an old professor; another is the a poem I wrote as a unschooled 11 year old; a third is from more "recognized" sources of authorship (as is the rest of the list). </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
At this precise point in time, I am wrestling with a feeling of discontent. No, not the job hopping kind. I need to table that instinct for a few years. I just feel...incomplete. For all my successes, and all the positive changes of 2012, there is something that feels simply "not quite right." But of course, I already know the problem: I have been ignoring all creative outlets in the name of technical achievement. And it has left me feeling the contradictory sensations of career triumph and creative apathy. They are not good bedfellows. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Fortunately, a well written sentence can be the bullet that shatters your isolation.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And it can reset the course of your "creative health." </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<h4>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Perhaps there is some secret sort of homing device in books that brings them to their perfect readers...</span></span></i> <br /><span style="font-size: small;">~ Mary Ann Shaffer, <i>The Guernsey Literary & Potatoe Peel Society</i></span></span></h4>
</blockquote>
<h4>
<i> </i></h4>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">One rather mundane morning, I found myself driving to work, with 10 things warring for the front spot in my thoughts, and paying far too little attention to driving. I looked up and realized that in the stressful stupor of the morning, I had found myself parked in front of Barnes & Noble. Quite without intention.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I was there. And my feet seemed to be on a mission through the parking lot.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I walked down the aisles, without a glance to my left or to my right; I passed the suggestion shelves and turned down the third aisle of Fiction, and stopped in front of a normal shelf. I reached out, snagged a book, turned heel and walked straight to the cash register. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">It was 9:15 in the morning, I barely had coffee in my system, I had no intention of going to the book store, and yet there I was, the new owner of a book whose title I did not recognize. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Well. I suppose I am putting a bid in for eccentric 20-something after all? </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Reseated in my Sonata, and once again reunited with my coffee tumbler, I finally opened the page. The first line so surprised and touched me, that I actually remember gasping. I knew, without any proof, that I was brought to that book. I believe that it summoned me, just as surely as I believe that it is 2012 and my mother's name is Patricia. <i>The writing reminded me of the argument that I have "responsibly" ignored in my head for nearly a year: I crave stories, and the editorialist's witty observations about modern life, and the intentional run on sentence, and all the things that a technical writing career asks you to set aside for success. </i>And a few well placed words brought all of that crashing into me like a bullet, leaving me breathless, sore and in desperate need of a change in course.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Maria Duenas medicated my malaise with a beautiful and violent introduction:</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #20124d;"><b>A typewriter shattered my destiny. </b></span></span></span></div>
</blockquote>
</blockquote>
<div style="text-align: right;">
* From the novel <i>The Time in Between</i></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />B-Verbosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10819796524054745579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2367339330538557111.post-84646947766767429252012-10-10T09:30:00.000-04:002012-11-12T23:45:45.157-05:00Conquering the ToolboxThere are a number of times when it is very useful to have two dads.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7pmc55Y-6VktE6BbWXZYlwmiW5raagawsansGSVenJOLosPJcC6nTGWTPgK7_QOhoMSIOuPcvFXgUd_rxiYPC3sTkp_75EoRscmxDLV-6VC5hTjYjvCfsHt2SiQXgTdVV4ENPiozkzUs/s1600/2012-10-07+13.21.17.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7pmc55Y-6VktE6BbWXZYlwmiW5raagawsansGSVenJOLosPJcC6nTGWTPgK7_QOhoMSIOuPcvFXgUd_rxiYPC3sTkp_75EoRscmxDLV-6VC5hTjYjvCfsHt2SiQXgTdVV4ENPiozkzUs/s320/2012-10-07+13.21.17.jpg" width="260" /></a><br />
<ol>
<li>Moving day. You get four hands instead of two.</li>
<li>Christmas. You get an extra stocking stuffer.</li>
<li>Bedtime (as a child). You get a full cast of parents to read you stories at night. Not two parents, but three. <i>Multiple vocal impressions. The only other kids on the planet who get that has Robin Williams for a father.</i></li>
<li>Car problems. Rationale: one of them is bound to answer the phone in times of distress.</li>
</ol>
And my favorite...Tool Usage Dilemmas. Both of my fabulous dads understand tools. Between them, they own the entire Sears Hardware Department dating back to 1980.<br />
<br />
They can fix cars, computers, and every broken household fixture imaginable. Plus, they can build houses, install plumbing, craft furniture, weld most metals, and run electrical wiring. Am I spoiled? Well, yes. But for the most part, I was shown as least a few things growing up, so as to be semi self-sufficient as a young woman living alone. Because they obviously <i>knew</i> that I was the "determined" sort of child focused on moving far far away from my helpers...silly, silly woman. Now, if I need help, I must Skype one or ask for the other's presence weeks in advance. Poorly executed plan for independence on my part. <br />
<br />
Among my basic lessons, were simple explanations of how to do things like change a tire, install a doorknob, use a level and hammer properly, and even how to use a soldering iron (though, we pronounce it "sauderin'"). All useful. And all of which introduced me to the most common sets of tools, i.e. level, socket wrench, car jack. Which is why I was MORTIFIED to have to call one of my well-versed fathers this past weekend.<br />
<br />
I actually had to think about which father figure would be <i>less ashamed of me</i> for forgetting how to use one a basic element of the household toolbox. I opted to call the one who could judge me from the farthest distance away. Cue iPhone: place call to Florida. <br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i><span style="color: #351c75;">Thrilled Step Dad:</span> Why hey there! How are you?!</i><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i><span style="color: #741b47;">B-Verbose: </span>Um, so I need help.</i></blockquote>
<i><span style="color: #351c75;">Amused Step Dad:</span> Ha! Oh really. Well, that figures. What is up?</i><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i><span style="color: #741b47;">B-Verbose: </span>Well, I am trying to swap out the electrical cord for the dryer we just bought. I need to convert it from a 30 AMP to a 50 AMP and...</i></blockquote>
<i><span style="color: #351c75;">Horrified Step Dad: </span>WAIT! WAIT! What are you doing? Stop right now! Amps?! Don't you mean watts? Put everything on the ground! NOW B----. GET YOUR SISTER!</i></blockquote>
<br />
<i>::derailed for 15 minutes during which time I calmly explained the situation, and pacified Step Dad that photos were taken to the Lowe's Help Center, that professionals picked out the necessary cords, and that I was completely capable of doing minor electrical work. And that I could do it <u>without</u> the help of my sister half::</i><br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i><span style="color: #351c75;">Flustered Step Dad: <span style="color: black;">Well then, what is it you need?</span></span></i></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="color: #741b47;">B-Verbose: Um, well, you see...and you can't laugh! I know I am ditsy but this is really a problem, and I need to you just tell me how to do it. Don't make any comments, just...</span></blockquote>
</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="color: #351c75;"><i>Step Dad (interrupting):</i> B---, just tell me what it is!</span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="color: #741b47;"><i>B-Verbose: <span style="color: black;">...I can't get the socket wrench to change directions. So, I can't get the back panel off ::defeated sigh::</span></i></span></blockquote>
</blockquote>
Shame accurately describes what I was feeling in that moment. Foiled by a socket wrench?<br />
<br />
A long pause was followed by a very slow, drawn out description of how to locate the "switch" that comes on every socket wrench. The tone was a little surprised. I would venture to say disappointed that I had forgotten my lessons. But there was TRICKERY! There WAS no switch! I knew right then that the universe (or in this case, Advance Auto Parts and its travel kits) was playing games with my head! Every tool I have ever used belongs in the late 1980s or early 90s (some older than that). I had to finally send a picture via iPhone to him, and we figured out together that the attachment push pin could double as a rotation element. That. Was. Not. In. My. Lessons. And the pin was cantankerous. It was weird. So, obviously, I prefer antique tools.::wink wink::<br />
<br />
Still, that was the only part of the project that I needed help with. I swapped things out all by my lonesome, tested the dryer, and it has yet to catch on fire.<br />
<br />
Go girl, go! <br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>... part of me dreads the day that I have to use something really fancy. Like the "Total Gym" equivalent of drills or something. Then Chuck Norris or Bob Vila will show up to give me a stern talkin' to....depending on who has the day off, of course.<span style="color: #741b47;"> ::insert cheesy grin over bad joke here:: </span></i><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />B-Verbosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10819796524054745579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2367339330538557111.post-12585435872607679142012-10-08T09:54:00.000-04:002012-10-09T10:49:00.159-04:00The Working Woman's Woes: The Unforgiving Workload<br />
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<i><span style="color: #741b47;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></span>Despite my many attempts to delve further into one of my
favorite topics—navigating the ever changing workplace—I admit to abandoning
this entry on multiple occasions. </i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<i>Why? Well, my explanation is a fitting one: I have been juggling
THE workload. <br />The serial took second priority.</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<i><img height="213" id="il_fi" src="http://www.expresspros.com/US/Exchange/images/08-09/workload.gif" style="padding-bottom: 8px; padding-right: 8px; padding-top: 8px;" width="320" /> </i></div>
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span><br />
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<br /></div>
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Shortly after drafting the bones of <a href="http://navigatingthenuances.blogspot.com/2011/11/working-womans-woes-overview.html">“The
Working Woman’s Woes”</a> series, I made the decision to shift roles at work.
At the time, my juggling act was quite impressive on its own: after participating
in a 6 month staff restructuring process, I assumed a new role as the
Development Manager for roughly 18 counties in SWVA. It was an exciting
endeavor. I was fortunate to play a significant role in developing the job
description for my new “responsibilities”. Leaving the Grant Manager position
behind was not scary, it was an opportunity. One that did—oh <i>yes,</i> it did—stretch
me. Unfortunately, we were not in a position to hire a replacement in my former
role quickly, so I juggled. And my department was incredibly supportive. It all
worked out beautifully, though I was overwhelmed, for a few months.</div>
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<br /></div>
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But a new twist was rapidly approaching—and the experiences
that I have had in the months since, have given me a whole new perspective on “time
management.” In February 2012, I took a role overseeing the local presence of a
state incentive grant. In retrospect, that whole journey requires a bit of faith
to believe. My current Director has known me for several years, and had approached
me to write for a multi-year project funded by SAMHSA. Well, after days
juggling two roles at one organization, and the responsibilities of privately
contracted grant writer by night, I was stretched. But we were awarded the
funding. Then, I was asked to apply for the project coordinator position. And
today I have shifted my responsibilities into the realm of project management
(plus, development duties, but that will wait for another day!).</div>
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</div>
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Rather than waxing poetic about the positive results of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">finishing before the deadline</i>, or <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">learning to prioritize your to-do list Covey
style</i>, I think I can accurately sum up the best stress navigation method in
four words: <span style="color: #351c75;"><i>c<u>onsistent performance & expectation management. </u></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #351c75;"></span> <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: #741b47;"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Your Level of Effort
Should be Predictable—</b></span></i></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://encrypted-tbn1.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcSG3AyMiQLQQ3gfB26fQObZJvRXmTNPNLUX3WVxJYZRjz_IugJ6hQ" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" class="rg_hi uh_hi" data-height="225" data-width="225" height="225" id="rg_hi" src="https://encrypted-tbn1.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcSG3AyMiQLQQ3gfB26fQObZJvRXmTNPNLUX3WVxJYZRjz_IugJ6hQ" style="height: 225px; width: 225px;" width="225" /></a>Don’t run. This isn’t the boring “never deviate from the
routine” sort of lesson. But there is one truth to your relationship with your
employer: with <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">consistency of performance</i>
you will develop trust, and with <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">trust</i>
you will have the freedom and autonomy to take the risks you want to take. </div>
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<br /></div>
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On the few occasions that I, or my friends, have noted strained
relations in the work place, it usually falls on the doorstep of low effort
performance. What does that mean? Well, I actually don’t think it has that much
to do with delivering the “stellar” performance, or of never missing the mark
on a project. Life happens. We will never be 100% successful at everything—and if
you are, I would wager you have taken few chances with your skill application. Up the ante.</div>
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Consistency is about a two things: first, it sets the stage
for building your reputation on a solid work ethic; and second, it is the perfect
motivator for advancing your professional goals in a timely manner through
uninterrupted levels of effort (thereby avoiding the strained 4:59 pm
submission deadline every week). What it should never be about: <b>stifling your creativity.</b> For your employer, a consistent level of
engagement in every project, whether you love it or hate it, will prove that
you are both competent and thoughtful in your work. As such, if you NEED to shout
“Mayday!” on a Wednesday when the to-do list threatens to crush you, chances
are the boss will acknowledge your cries. And you will get the extension you
need, or the necessary support to get the job done. And the hurdle will be
cleared, and all will be well.</div>
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<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
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<i>On the other hand, when have you ever heard of the lazy guy
in the office not getting “the” lecture after filing for an extension? Not a
frequent occurrence. </i></div>
</blockquote>
<br />
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Consistency will both help you maintain control on your
projects, as well as keep you focused on the end game. Consistency is based on
a long term plan; and I should hope—please?— that that is an ambitious one.</div>
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<span style="color: #741b47;"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Do Not Pretend You Can
Spin Golden Thread</b></span></i></span></div>
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<a href="http://www.eatyourcareer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/Expectations.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" id="il_fi" src="http://www.eatyourcareer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/Expectations.jpg" style="padding-bottom: 8px; padding-right: 8px; padding-top: 8px;" width="248" /></a>There are few situations in which you are going to be
rescued by a supervisor or client, just because “they lowered their
expectations.” Admitting your limitations is part of being a good employee or
business owner. If a supervisor or a client comes to you
asking for a very ambitious product—whether due to the time commitment or the
sheer difficulty level—then you need to call on your honed negotiation skills. </div>
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Granted, when you are growing a business or first starting
out in your career, you do not have the luxury of sending away potential
business or projects. You need to make ends meet, and you need to build a
portfolio from somewhere. As you move forward in your career, however, the
number of projects that you are juggling will only grow in size and difficulty
level; when that happens, a well-placed, “No”, will serve you well.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It stands to common sense that a client will appreciate a surprise
over a disappointment any day. As the saying goes, “under-promise and over-deliver”.
That strategy rarely backfires<span style="color: #351c75;"> </span><span style="color: #741b47;"><span style="color: #351c75;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">if you
remember to promise a good product from the get go.</i></span> </span>At the end of the day,
your supervisors or your clients do not care about the other 400 things waiting
on your desk, or the 20 unreturned voicemails in your inbox, or even the fact
that you haven’t had a vacation in 6 months. They care only about what you can
tell them concerning their product, their interests, and their investment.
Which means, you have now entered into the field of TIGHT ROPE WALKING!
Welcome! It will be fun! You will not fall…most likely.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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To balance all of the things you have on your plate—in addition
to performing consistently, and being affable, and finding a good <span style="color: #741b47;"><a href="http://navigatingthenuances.blogspot.com/2011/11/working-womans-woes-mentors.html">mentor
(see previous serial installment)—</a></span>you need to find that sweet spot where
you can advance your own interests while managing the expectations of those
around you. Please note: this is not a lesson in personal profit. Managing the
expectations of those around allows for honest communication, better time
management, and ultimately a much better product. Profit is the by product.</div>
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If you are too stretched by multiple projects or incessant details,
it simply doesn’t matter what level of effort you put in—something will suffer.
And so begins to cycle of compromise. You lose the ability to control your
collaborative partners. You lose say in when a project reaches fruition. Worst
of all, you lose confidence in the quality of your product. Stress makes for
shoddy workmanship. Your skills are your legacy, your currency, and your source
of personal achievement. If you allow others to enforce unrealistic or intangible
expectations onto those skills, then you will risk compromising those strengths
in the name of an unshared goal. </div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
Navigating Cubicle-ville, or your own
makeshift desk from home, is a delicate thing. Some days I succeed. Some days,
I see the edge of the cliff approaching and force myself to talk through the
stresses with my Director. It is never 100% comfortable. But it is necessary.
To become a successful, confident, and effective professional, there is no
escaping the mounting to-do list. It is going to grow and grow and grow. If you
are doing your job well, the pace will likely accelerate before you have time
to learn the art of “no”. But, if you have been consistent in your performance
to that point, then a minor blip on the success radar will be forgiven and forgotten—just
try not to make it a habit. </div>
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B-Verbosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10819796524054745579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2367339330538557111.post-86975697263559628242012-10-04T15:00:00.000-04:002012-10-04T15:00:04.071-04:00By Chance or By Design?<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<h4>
<span class="sqq">“And in the end, it's not the years in your life that count. It's the life in your years.” ~ Honest Abe</span></h4>
</blockquote>
I do not follow the prescripted belief that any one day is meant to be special; a birthday is a day. Just like, in the most technical sense, a wedding day or the Super Bowl are just days on the calendar.<br />
<br />
That, however, doesn't mean that I prefer days to remain uncelebrated. Life is an occasion; rise to it!<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgk7bRPQGozvaZPuJiXu07xxv2NYd6nOi2YFBvgVZo-RNU7Lfso7MYpjGehLwwXwW3ni2Rz8jgbqte4egb4vckkfg45rou32hcqvg48j4PilBZd1p_Eynaj3DURldzm7WfdQL_Cs0HVP0/s1600/bday+post+2+good.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgk7bRPQGozvaZPuJiXu07xxv2NYd6nOi2YFBvgVZo-RNU7Lfso7MYpjGehLwwXwW3ni2Rz8jgbqte4egb4vckkfg45rou32hcqvg48j4PilBZd1p_Eynaj3DURldzm7WfdQL_Cs0HVP0/s320/bday+post+2+good.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The thematically perfect sculpture to <br />feature as a gift in this post! Thanks Boss!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Despite the circumstances or personal significance of a particular date, the day itself has no inherently magical quality. It is the person, and the perspective, that makes any one day a special one. Yesterday, I aged (I like to think quite gracefully!). I have always loved my birthday. Not because of the presents, or the cake, or that ego-centric "it's all about me!" element. I have always loved my birthday because the people in my life have made it an expression of their affection for me. It isn't a new idea: yes, a birthday is a day to celebrate you. <span style="color: #741b47;"><i>But, </i>what happens when a series of rather unusual and spectacular moments string themselves together to create pure joy? Does it render my theory that we infuse situations with personal significance obsolete? Is there really magic in a single day? My romantic inclinations would love to go there...</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Yesterday my day was transformed by the people I have met during my short life. Calls came in from Minnesota, Florida, California, New England. Hugs were passed around among my civic league, my co workers, and one very exuberant stranger. Facebook love was staggering! [If nothing else, social media will lift your spirits with some online love on your birthday.]</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I am not trying to wave my "look how many friends I have!" flag, here. I just felt blessed. And in awe of the circuitous, surprising journey between states, nations, and life chapters that made all of those birthday wishes possible. My day felt infused with magic because of the love fest! Bring on the love!</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyvEYDF5EcqBWiX2Bl13gWeKtHSmXFGPK7ZcctAqAHPX63SwL_ELX0wIghDSaPkW6i3Gfqx6cOeDHsugx5tHAy23z-YffTVKaXEl0m4M858bSZePBXPHHRhCypP5dvDInEmveCpyYgumU/s1600/bday+post+1+good.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyvEYDF5EcqBWiX2Bl13gWeKtHSmXFGPK7ZcctAqAHPX63SwL_ELX0wIghDSaPkW6i3Gfqx6cOeDHsugx5tHAy23z-YffTVKaXEl0m4M858bSZePBXPHHRhCypP5dvDInEmveCpyYgumU/s320/bday+post+1+good.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I got the French one... :)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And because I have Sisterita, whose domestic sensibilities in the kitchen, turned out the most magical meal of citrus-infused quinoa and salmon steaks (yeah, I am so spoiled); and who <i>also</i> found time to decorate my room, prep a birthday banana bread loaf for my morning celebration, and write <span style="color: #351c75;">"Happy Birthday" in 27 languages </span>on my birthday mirror. (Great pronunciation game to play post glass of Vihno Verde, by the way...Exystimogislua anyone?)</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Then there was the spectacular art piece by wonderful Director purchased me! Vintage, nostalgic, and inspiring! </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
And some really great grant news for work. (Maybe now I can stop going grey from stress?)</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
And a reunion with a long lost friend. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
And inducting a new young professional into a life of philanthropic service - my first "little" duck!</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And, then there was the the random icing on the proverbial cake: Sisterita and I met a <i>psychedelic rapper</i> named Aaron, on the streets of downtown. The conversation went something like:</div>
<i> </i><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="color: #351c75;"><b>Aaron: </b></span><i>Ladies, ladies can I get your opinion? Is this hat too much with this shirt?</i><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="color: #351c75;"><b>B-Verbose:</b> </span>::eyes Redskin cap, Rasta shirt and Air Force Ones:: <i>Actually, I think you have the attitude to pull it off.</i><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<b><span style="color: #351c75;">Aaron:</span> </b><i>So ladies, I've got some music I want you to look up. I'm a psychedelic rapper and you two gals look like you would appreciate a little good music.</i></blockquote>
</blockquote>
</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<b> <span style="color: #351c75;">Sisterita:</span></b><span style="color: #351c75;"> </span><i>Um, Aaron? What IS a psychedelic rapper?</i></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="color: #351c75;"><b>Aaron: </b></span><i>I want you to think about if Fleetwood Mac made rap. And then Pink Floyd came along and jazzed things up. That's my vibe. It was all kind of a mess before I found Jesus. But now my rap is right and all is good with the world.</i></blockquote>
</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<b><span style="color: #351c75;">B-Verbose:</span> </b><i>So, Aaron, where can we find your stuff? ::looks up online:: Okay. Cool. We will give it a listen later. Great meeting you man. Good luck!</i></blockquote>
</blockquote>
</blockquote>
NOTE: I heard very little Fleetwood Mac influence in those tracks. But he was a very very pleasant fellow. And the ensuing banter was quite fun.<br />
<br />
<br />
<h4>
All said and done, I don't know if one day can be characterized as "magic" or more "special" than another. Probably not; but, as Wednesday birthdays go, yesterday was a pretty spectacular culmination of experiences. Honest Abe, I do believe that I added a little <span style="color: #741b47;">life into my years</span> yesterday. </h4>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />B-Verbosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10819796524054745579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2367339330538557111.post-24825385326792449252012-10-03T09:30:00.000-04:002013-03-05T23:04:51.096-05:00Distance, good sir, is dirty. <h4>
I do not run. </h4>
<h4>
I do not care to run.</h4>
<h4>
And I have been running for weeks now. </h4>
<h4>
</h4>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://sphotos-a.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-prn1/155597_471908759516401_231803058_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" class="spotlight" height="320" src="https://sphotos-a.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-prn1/155597_471908759516401_231803058_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
If, say, two short months ago, you would have told me that I might be spending my mornings on a treadmill, or my weekends using mountains as an alternative to the stair climber, then I would have [insert appropriately violent terminology] you.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Or perhaps just glared at you. In what would surely have been a studied impression of Maggie Smith's incredulous "look." You know the one. The one that freezes time on <i>Downton Abbey. </i></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
But no. No, I would have lived to regret my actions. Why? Because quite honestly, a little running is the perfect excuse to PLAY IN THE MUD! Marine Mud Run, you were a beast. You made me dirty, but I made it through your 5K obstacle course and got this incredible photo opportunity out of it.<br />
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Next: We do an Orbitz commerical. And make millions. Yes, yes, I do believe that will work.<br />
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<br />B-Verbosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10819796524054745579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2367339330538557111.post-2137263258953249032012-10-01T10:30:00.000-04:002013-03-05T23:02:00.446-05:00Things You Write That I Will Not Read<h3>
</h3>
<h4>
<span dir="ltr" id=":10n">"It is more worthy in the
eyes of God and better for us as a people if a writer makes three pages
sharp and funny about the lives of geese than to make three hundred flat
and flabby about God or the American people."</span></h4>
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<h4>
(Garrison Keillor. Intro to "Happy to Be Here")</h4>
<h4>
</h4>
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On that rather enlightened note, I will briefly add my distaste for any of the following:<br />
<ol>
<li>Anything to do with the basic debauchery of your evening. If your grandmama would look askance at you, chances are I am mentally castigating you with MUCH worse. Fair warning. </li>
<li>The goings ons of your girl friend's boyfriend's cheating regime. I feel badly for her. But frankly, I am of the opinion that she should let him go. Correction: thrust him from her doorstep with a furious, fabulous kick of her stiletto boot.</li>
<li>Any fan fiction about Star Trek, Battlestar Galactica, or Firefly. I love me some Joss Whedon, but the show is gone. I lament the loss; your attempts to finally unite Mal and the lovely Irina, however, are not going to get it back on the air. Or satisfy the hole in any of our hearts. </li>
<li>The daily escapades of your pet. Funny enough, entries about a rather nasty roommate tend to be both entertaining and educational. So, keep those coming. </li>
<li>Your health journal. Caloric intake values are too much information for this gal.</li>
</ol>
With all that said, I am not heartless. I fully support the journalistic endeavors of all - not only will the writer find better understanding of his or her own internal struggle, but the very practice will enable the development of a fuller, more globally aware perspective. AKA a semi-considerate observer of the world.<br />
<br />
I just want to see the journey's find their way to enlightenment - sorry Maslow, I apologize for stealing your pyramid for my own purposes. And all too often these sorts of entries into the online consciousness do nothing more than irritate, exacerbate and inflame the feelings and fires of the already embittered writing parties. Now, someone tell me: is that supposed to help?<br />
<br />
So, maybe just call your girlfriends and have a cinema night? <br />
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B-Verbosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10819796524054745579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2367339330538557111.post-41503038427296450212012-09-30T11:00:00.000-04:002013-03-05T23:04:30.310-05:00Seven Summit ClimbsLet the title speak for itself. Seven mountains. Seven weeks. An experiment in natural endurance and dedication. A work in progress. With comparative images from by gone hikes.<br />
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Or an intense need to punish one's own calf muscles. Whichever you prefer.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDvn6Qu1hlPnLW13wTJyDYDQcfmZ6B_pETnPA1UXDtYQ6_T13gfwDZwHHeuCOfiXmCRdmxb38zKlhOM8IeP1bsqs1_7uwT6H4xvje39wyj8QBt0bHnRJhX5BZDch_L8RFUbMPUaHKv-Uc/s1600/375584_10100515975557691_5010881_54371565_104677613_n+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDvn6Qu1hlPnLW13wTJyDYDQcfmZ6B_pETnPA1UXDtYQ6_T13gfwDZwHHeuCOfiXmCRdmxb38zKlhOM8IeP1bsqs1_7uwT6H4xvje39wyj8QBt0bHnRJhX5BZDch_L8RFUbMPUaHKv-Uc/s400/375584_10100515975557691_5010881_54371565_104677613_n+(2).jpg" height="335" width="400" /> </a></td><td style="text-align: center;"></td><td style="text-align: center;"></td><td style="text-align: center;"></td><td style="text-align: center;"></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dragon's Tooth 2011</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF4QZ7wVdzy-K2UppK2sq7h-zKoOPh_ZZooK-kjS4IDRYPCCzFDHzYMRz5N3lCv2KlSzpKHcC_BG62-we2JkwPHm5Sm-sgAi_rqQQFlt6YAfEANgFtR3cRZl3K2OWKIE4W6iUA339UysU/s1600/Dragon's+Tooth+August+2012.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF4QZ7wVdzy-K2UppK2sq7h-zKoOPh_ZZooK-kjS4IDRYPCCzFDHzYMRz5N3lCv2KlSzpKHcC_BG62-we2JkwPHm5Sm-sgAi_rqQQFlt6YAfEANgFtR3cRZl3K2OWKIE4W6iUA339UysU/s400/Dragon's+Tooth+August+2012.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dragon's Tooth 2012</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sharp Top 2011</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Top Three Above: Sharp Top 2012</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tinker Cliffs 2012</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrkFlhbes8rVCHoW2pfqLBJOyJsT9wXj4aRJq4OgX5AAXXTlbog0GpAkntZk9wMPQi6gIasjnyAGSc3cDc-1O0CXS4NABvP3yWjtRoAoP2cdOmU4H-NGphjNT3WSTkYfQ0FijNY2Ux7cU/s1600/Tinker+Cliffs+002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a> <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Apple Orchard Falls 2012</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Apple Orchard Falls 2012</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Buzzard's Rock 2012</td></tr>
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<br />B-Verbosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10819796524054745579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2367339330538557111.post-85459311510766869062012-09-30T00:21:00.000-04:002013-03-05T23:05:34.248-05:00Falling into Autumn<div class="tab-content active" id="poem-top">
<h4>
I hardly need share my inherent love of autumn, or of fall and fired foliage; yet, I leave it to a poet more refined to herald the artful entry of the season.</h4>
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<h4>
October</h4>
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<i><span class="author">By <a href="http://www.poetryfoundation.org/bio/robert-frost"> Robert Frost</a></span></i><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicKbMLF5YG_rgqFhrWA9wVZ3rBTIJ3R6hF0eo1LsrZaSxWPJPXuRrrHsZEsvhgMYkJyCb-Jr1lvHUPEsEFym1lJ4jNG9zA_sFnavzJMkwl-VqLLfKfKWf5dG8K1P7cgb9MWMKDVO1h_D8/s1600/blue_ridge_parkway_fall_colors_leaves_MG_9502.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicKbMLF5YG_rgqFhrWA9wVZ3rBTIJ3R6hF0eo1LsrZaSxWPJPXuRrrHsZEsvhgMYkJyCb-Jr1lvHUPEsEFym1lJ4jNG9zA_sFnavzJMkwl-VqLLfKfKWf5dG8K1P7cgb9MWMKDVO1h_D8/s320/blue_ridge_parkway_fall_colors_leaves_MG_9502.jpg" height="320" width="214" /></a><span class="author"> </span>
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O hushed October morning mild,</div>
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Thy leaves have ripened to the fall;</div>
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Tomorrow’s wind, if it be wild,</div>
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Should waste them all.</div>
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The crows above the forest call;</div>
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Tomorrow they may form and go.</div>
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O hushed October morning mild,</div>
<div style="padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;">
Begin the hours of this day slow.</div>
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Make the day seem to us less brief.</div>
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Hearts not averse to being beguiled,</div>
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Beguile us in the way you know.</div>
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Release one leaf at break of day;</div>
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At noon release another leaf;</div>
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One from our trees, one far away.</div>
<div style="padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;">
Retard the sun with gentle mist;</div>
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Enchant the land with amethyst.</div>
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Slow, slow!</div>
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For the grapes’ sake, if they were all,</div>
<div style="padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;">
Whose leaves already are burnt with frost,</div>
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Whose clustered fruit must else be lost—</div>
<div style="padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;">
For the grapes’ sake along the wall.</div>
B-Verbosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10819796524054745579noreply@blogger.com0