Category Archives: Informative

Apr 14 2013
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Informative

Birds do it so why don’t I?

thanks to Cécile Graat: http://www.sxc.hu/photo/1030887For the most part I’m just like everyone else and if fame and fortune happened to knock on my front door I wouldn’t turn them away. As you may recall, the raison d’etre (linked, for those of you who are not from this bilingual country of mine) of this blog was to figure out a way to monetize my gift for being shallow. Now don’t go thinking I’m “out to lunch” on this one. Just this week I was watching the news only to discover that a fellow Canadian, one from my city of choice no less, has turned her knack for sharing her 140 character (really funny) quips into a Hollywood movie. How do you even do that? Wouldn’t the dialogue be rather choppy? Nevertheless, she’s hit the big time, and we’ve come learn that hers was no meteoric rise to the top. No, she’s been blogging since 2002 and, to tell the truth, that’s a little disheartening to me since if I have to wait that long for my break, I’ll be spending my extra cash at the tuck shop in the “home”. Putting aside the fact that she’s very funny and really good at what she does which, as we have come to know is not a necessary precursor to making it big these days, the problem for me, as I see it, is that she has also worked hard at getting people to know who she is and what she does and I’m afraid that is not something I have ever been prepared to do. Mostly because, as you must know by now, I’m shallow and “hard work” (unlike raison d’etre) doesn’t trend in my vocabulary.

It’s not that I don’t get plenty of advice on how to get this puppy, which is hovering around the 32 foot mark right now, to soar. Just the other day the subject of my blog mysteriously came up in the middle of a meeting at work and, as a result, some very good ideas about kicking things up a notch were generated. Among the many worthwhile suggestions was that I should start “tweeting” about my posts in order to attract the attention of those in the twittersphere. Now I’m tech savvy enough to know that tweeting is no longer something that only birds do, and that, in fact, my fellow Canadian has made quite a splash by following this sage advice. From what I can see though, it is just so much work, what with understanding all the “ins and outs” of where to put the @, how to use hashtags, how to get people to  retweet and whatever else goes on in that world. Besides, I have enough trouble keeping these triestes of mine under 1000 words, let alone trying to figure out how to adequately express my thoughts in less than 140 characters. Not to mention the fact that I have four followers on my twitter account and they already know about the blog, so I’m kind of tapped out on that front. I was somewhat more intrigued by the idea put forward to hire someone, at minimal cost who would write my posts, thereby alleviating me of the most onerous part of this whole endeavor and perhaps elevating it to a more professional level. While worth careful consideration, even as a shallow person I think this probably negates the whole purpose of having a blog. And it goes without saying that finding someone who is at least as shallow as I am, not to mention a writer of some note, may not be an easy task, resulting in the distinct possibility that I will spend more time not doing what I should be doing.

WordPress itself provides a plethora of suggestions and opportunities to increase blog readership, some of which I like and some of which I really don’t. According to the people at WP, the “top ten” ways to increase your readership include writing well and frequently. Well I’m doing the latter and keeping my fingers crossed that I’ve come close to the former. And I’m quite confident that I have mastered their recommendation to “bug your real-life friends” (is the alternative your “imaginary” friends because I don’t have any of those, anymore) as I am sure you are all painfully aware. On the other hand, I must categorically reject their idea to “like” or “follow” other people’s blogs for the sole purpose of having them “like” or “follow” me. You see, as a dedicated blogger (even a shallow one) there is a certain amount of excitement associated with having someone let you know they appreciate what you do and that perhaps, even for just a moment, you have brought a little ray of sunshine into their lives. So it is with some dismay that when, upon reciprocating their visit, I discover they have “liked” upwards of a hundred posts on that very day with the singular goal of increasing traffic to their own site. Now I may be shallow but that doesn’t mean I don’t have a strong sense of what’s right and what isn’t and there’s just so much wrong about this. Not to mention that it’s way too much work. So if that’s what it takes to garner attention I’ll find some solace when the people at WordPress tell me that, in the end: “size doesn’t matter but rather how much you care about your audience and they care about you”. As my little Bro has reminded me, my followers may be small in number but it’s a loyal group.  As the one year anniversary of this blog approaches, I thank you for that.

Now, with all that said and done, if you happen to know someone who can make me both rich and famous please don’t hesitate to pass this blog on to them. Because, as you can see, there’s a pretty good chance that I never will.

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Apr 06 2013
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Informative

Nothing Doing

comfy chairA curious thing happened to me the other night. Kind of out of the blue I got a call from a friend I hadn’t spoken to for some time. While it wasn’t one of those “blasts” from 40 years ago, it had been at least a couple of months since we last spoke so it was good to hear from her. But it wasn’t the call itself that was surprising. I mean it started out pretty ordinary what with catching up on her kids and my kids and a few other people’s kids too, but you don’t want to know about that. The curious part was when, without any prompting on my end (I wasn’t out of breath or talking fast or anything like that which I have been known to do when I want a conversation to end), she said:

My Friend: I’ve probably caught you on your way out the door.
Me: Nope. I’m not going anywhere right now.
My Friend: Oh, well you must be busy with stuff at home.
Me: Nope. I’m not really busy right now. As a matter of fact, I’m not doing anything at the moment.
My Friend: Oh, well this must be a first for you.

Now she couldn’t see me, but if she had I’m pretty sure she would have noticed the look of puzzlement on my face because, truth be told (I know, I say that a lot but shallow people never back away from the truth) there are many, many times that I am not going anywhere or doing anything in particular. As a matter of fact, I do nothing quite a lot of the time. And as a shallow person, I’m okay with that because doing nothing is not always a bad thing. Like when I call my Mother and ask her “what’s doing” and she says “nothing’s doing” which is often better than “something’s doing” ‘cause that “something” is not always so great when you’re 97 years old. So I come by all of this honestly. Which is why I spend much of my time at home sitting in my comfy chair in my study doing not much of anything unlike the cat who, making no distinction between the chair and the multitude of cardboard scratching posts we have strategically placed around the house for her convenience, is always busy doing something when she visits me at my chair, which again, is not such a good thing.

Now ordinarily I would be fine leaving you with this impression of me in my leisure time but as an honest shallow person who is somewhat reflective and introspective I find myself wanting to explain that, just because I am in my chair appearing to do nothing, doesn’t necessarily mean I’m not doing something.  Sometimes that something is reading a book, or finding valuable information on the internet like how much the house down the street sold for or whether I’ve lost a lot or a little in the stock market on any given day. Sometimes I plan whole vacations, booking hotels, airline tickets, making dinner reservations and arranging for sightseeing tours in my temporary home away from home and, believe me, that can be exhausting. Of late, much of my time spent in my chair has been devoted to attending my class at Harvard (have I mentioned I’m going to Harvard?) listening to lectures, reading excerpts from books and engaging in dialogue with my fellow students. Well I don’t really “engage” but I do read what some of them have to say. And I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that taking a course at Harvard is no walk in the park. Other times I’m just thinking about things which makes it really look as though I’m doing nothing but I’m not. I will admit that I am also prone to a couple of less lofty activities like watching reality TV shows or playing computer games, but those are things too. And, last but not least, I sit in my chair to write this blog which, I might add, I have stuck to for almost a year now and that’s really something.

Well now that I’ve got this one in the bag I should get back to what I was doing before I started writing which really was nothing and, now that I’m thinking about it, I don’t even have to go anywhere to do it.

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Mar 28 2013
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Informative, Instructive

Ya Gotta Do What Ya Gotta Do

graduation_diplomaI have never professed to be among the intellectual elite and I’m pretty sure if you could locate them, my high school math and science teachers would corroborate that statement. Some of them might even express a degree of surprise if they knew how far I have been able to make it in this little life of mine. Because, truth be told, I’ve held my own in the world of academe having completed more than one undergraduate degree and another beyond that. And since I’m tooting my own horn anyway (it’s what us shallows do), I’ll be so bold as to add that every once in awhile I write a pretty mean blog post. There are even the odd times that I run into people that I can confidently say I might even be smarter than. Like the cashier at the big box store I visited this weekend who, when presented with a rain check I had received the previous week looked like a deer in my headlights as she proclaimed “I don’t know what to do with that”. Or the supervisor she called over who, looking rather perplexed, shrugged her shoulders while echoing that sentiment. Now it’s been more than a few years since I have worked in retail but having mastered the “self-checkout” at the grocery store I took a flyer and suggested they scan the barcode on the slip I handed them just to see what might happen. And as Tom Cruise would say, mission accomplished.

Perhaps I was riding that wave of confidence when I decided it was time for me to kick it up a notch and experience the ivy league. How, you ask, did little old me manage to infiltrate those hallowed halls? Well I haven’t actually “been” inside them but I am taking a course at Harvard, online, in something called a MOOC. Now I realize not everyone is as familiar with the term as I am because, in case I have never mentioned it, I spend most of my daylight hours working in the world of online learning. And in that world some consider MOOCs to be the best thing since sliced bread, if you can pardon the vernacular. So, you ask, what is this thing they call a MOOC? Here’s the learnin’ part of the post. MOOCs are “massive, open, online courses”, massive because they attract hundreds of thousands of people; open because they are free; and online because that’s how you take them. For the most part they’re taught by big name professors from even bigger name schools who videotape their lectures so that those of us who can’t be there, can be there. And that’s how I ended up at Harvard, taking a course with what appears to be a lecture hall full of law students.

Now I don’t know about you but I have always thought that, unlike me, the students at Harvard really are members of the intellectual elite. Let’s face it, the list of Harvard attendees reads like a “who’s who” of well, everyone. I mean you’ve got your Presidents, your Nobel Prize winners and your game changers the likes of Misters Gates and Zuckerman, all with Harvard parchment on their walls. I suppose that’s why I had high expectations, so much so that I was a little concerned about my ability to comprehend the level of discourse that I assumed would be elicited from this group. And it quickly became clear that my professor (well I am taking the course) was want to engage the students in dialogue around tough philosophical questions, like whether it was ethical for a group of shipwrecked sailors to decide to kill and eat one of their mates in order to save the rest. Now most of us probably don’t want to imagine ever being in this particular situation but, nevertheless, we surmise that the answer to that question would be both difficult and complex. Which is why I was a tad taken aback when a pretty cool looking guy in the front row put up his hand and, when called upon, stood up in front of hundreds of his classmates, not to mention his esteemed teacher, and confidently stated that he would, in fact, sacrifice one for the good of the others. When asked to explain the premise upon which his decision had been made, he took a moment to think about it and then replied “ya gotta do what ya gotta do”.

Okay, so it’s not exactly what I was expecting. No matter. When I finish the 5 multiple choice quizzes and final multiple choice exam I’m going to get a certificate. From Harvard. And you better believe I’ll be hanging that up on my office wall.

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Feb 27 2013
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Informative

So it’s not a museum. So what!

donutsI know, I did it again. Missed a week of posting. But that’s what happens when you’re approaching the end of your time away. It’s a funny thing being away from home for 2 months because you’re not really a tourist and you’re not really a local. You’re kind of in limbo, or as I like to put it “limboish”, which I realize is not really a word but I sure like the sound of it. You see, for the most part you just want to be comfortable in your new home, spending your days walking on the beach and drinking coffee on the patio of your local Starbucks just like everyone else which begs the question “doesn’t anyone here have a real job?”. On the other hand, there are so many new and exciting things to see and do that you feel somewhat compelled to devote at least part of your time visiting the local attractions. Especially during February which just happens to be museum month in this neck of the woods which means Macy’s and the San Diego Museum Council have partnered to let people like you and me get in for the price of just me.

There is quite a list of participating museums that will welcome you for 50% of the regular rate. Which is great if you don’t feel a little squeamish about taking money away from the coffers of what can only be struggling arts venues, especially now with this sequestration thing going on down here. For my part, on previous visits I have had the pleasure of visiting some of the more renowned sites and while interesting, as a shallow person I have never felt inclined to take a second jog around the block, so to speak. Which puts me right back where I started with the “what do I do to avoid looking more like a tourist than I already do” dilemma.

Fortunately, I’m the kind of person who keeps her nose to the grindstone, ear to the ground, finger on the pulse, eye on the prize (can you come up with more body part cliches?) and that’s how I found out about a local attraction that was right up my alley. I suppose I might have figured this out earlier had my beach walks not always ended up at that mother of all coffee chains, Starbucks. Had I not been so singularly focused I am certain I would have more quickly noticed the proliferation of what can only be considered a local phenomenon not to be missed. What, you ask, could be so significant as to make me question my penchant for non-fat, no-foam lattes?

Donuts. That’s right. Donuts. And these are not your “never fresh”, previously frozen, shipped and ready to bake specimens that we have come to settle for in my country of birth. No, these are “made on the premises”, warm and delicious delicacies that are best enjoyed no more than three hours out of the fryer. Of course there are not likely to be any left within that timeframe because donuts are clearly serious business here and not to be fooled with. That’s how I decided that my tourist dollar would be well spent visiting each of the most highly touted venues to compare their offerings and chime in on what seems to be somewhat of a rivalry among the locals.

And so my quest for the perfect donut began, but this was no easy task because we are talking about some pretty awesome fare. Now let me tell you there is a lot of controversy in these parts about who makes the most delectable donuts so I was not about to take my task lightly. I kept my wits about me and came up with a set of criteria by which to compare and made the somewhat difficult decision to stick with chocolate, difficult only because there are times that I do enjoy a good apple fritter. But I digress, once again.

After several visits to each shop I came to the stark realization that they were all good. Actually, they were all great. So what it came down to for me was, as your trusty realtor would say, “location, location, location”. I mean, the funky little hole in the wall with tons of charm that everyone, and I mean everyone, talks about as being the very best, really is but it’s a 10 minute drive down the highway, opens at 5 am and is pretty much down to holes only by mid morning. And then there is the closest one to home which is quite respectable and while the hours are great, it’s a little nondescript and a touch sterile in its rather austere, strip mall locale. So after much consideration, my vote has to go with the local barber’s choice (which I suspect is at least in part due to his shop being next door) not only because they continue to make donuts all day so there’s always a fresh one to be had, but also because, lo and behold, it’s on the way to my fav coffee shop and what could be better than a chocolate donut with an afternoon latte?

Ok, I know there are no museums on my sightseeing tour of choice, but so what! I had a delicious time and learned a lot about the culture and culinary delights of my second home. And it’s motivated me to come back to continue my exploration. Next year: Frozen Yoghurt.

 

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Feb 03 2013
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Informative, Uncategorized

I Mean What I Say

beach_chairsI know, I’m a day late and a dollar short. Well actually I’m about a week late, (although I continually remind myself that I never professed to have a posting schedule) and, let me tell you, way more than a dollar short since leaving for my extended sojourn on the beach. But that’s the thing about words. They don’t always make clear what we are trying to say. As a shallow person I like things to be pretty straightforward so when I find myself trying to navigate through the murky world of ambiguous language I get a little cranky. Let’s take this little “dollar short” saying for instance which apparently has nothing to do with money. According to “Wiktionary”, which I am sure ranks up there somewhere between Oxford and Webster, the meaning of the phrase in question is “Action that was taken too late and is too feeble to be of any use.” Well if that’s the case, why not just say so? Why make me start worrying about my bank account for no reason whatsoever? Which leads me to believe that perhaps we should all take note of Horton’s sage advice and try harder to “say what we mean, and mean what we say”.

Lately, during my long walks on the beach, I’ve been thinking about this very thing; how words can have multiple meanings and how confusing that can get. Take the word “edge” for instance. For some reason I’ve been thinking about that one alot. It seems to me that people can be “on edge” which isn’t usually a good thing because it means something not so great is going on in their lives. It’s really hard to talk to someone who is on edge because they are not focused on what you are saying. And you never know for sure how they are going to react because they are not feeling like “themselves”, another rather perplexing concept since for all intents and purposes they still look an awful lot like who they are. While they are on edge it’s good to “be there” for them, which doesn’t mean you actually have to be with them but you should be if they call you and ask you to come by. The good thing is you don’t have to worry too much about them jumping off a bridge because they are only on edge, not “on the edge”. Which is an entirely different thing.

People who are living “on the edge” are more inclined to take risks that are outside most of our comfort zones. Turning back to my trusty online wiktionary I discover that these are people who “have an adventurous or perilous lifestyle; behave in a manner which creates risks for oneself.” And apparently this sometimes works out for them and sometimes doesn’t as the second definition provided is: “To be caught in an economic or societal situation which one did not choose, which threatens one’s well-being or life, and which causes distress.” So if you are that way inclined, I would proceed with caution. Unless you are one of the disciples of the “Living on the Edge” organization whose purpose is to “help Christians live like Christians”, which may not be quite as risky or distressing, although I can’t say for sure. Of course being on edge might prove to be preferable to being “edgy” which means you could be “on the edge between acceptable and offensive”. Honestly, given the choice between “distressed” and “offensive” I’m going to have to go with the former.

But none of this is really why I have been thinking about the word “edge” these past few weeks. The real reason I’ve been dwelling on this four letter word is that each day, as I walk on the sand I am acutely aware that I am literally standing on the edge of the continent. As I look out to the west there is nothing but ocean. Granted the edge ebbs and flows slightly with the tides, but it’s never more than a few steps away. In the evening, I watch the sun disappear as it makes it’s way below the edge. And every once in awhile I see a boat approaching from beyond the edge.

Now don’t get me wrong. I know that globes don’t have any real edges so I’m not overly concerned about falling off the edge. But I gotta tell you. If this was 1492 there’s no way, no how that anyone is going to convince me to get on one of those ships. Which probably means I’m not a “living on the edge” kind of gal. Yet here I am. Go figure!

And while I’m talking about words I want to send a few good ones out to my friends, and the best property managers ever, Liz and Bruce. If you happen to be travelling over to Vancouver Island and need a place to stay, you’re going to want to give them a call at Victoria Prime ‘cause they will take great care of you. And I’m not just saying that because they have done a bang up job of managing my little island abode. But they have, so I can promote them because it’s my shallow blog and I can do what I want to. And they read it and think it’s funny. So this one’s for them.

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