// Looking for a downtown dive with food and wifi.
// Looking for a downtown dive with food and wifi.
// Looking for a downtown dive with food and wifi.
// Off to a meeting about a Moog catalog design project.
From NPR (http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=95256794): “Switching from task to task, you think you’re actually paying attention to everything around you at the same time. But you’re actually not,” [neuroscientist Earl] Miller said.
From the Guardian (http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/booksblog/2008/sep/26/poetry.trains.oriordan): “trains sit deeper in the poet’s psyche; they become freighted with meanings both sublimated and exposed”
According to Rafe Needleman in an Ad Age (http://adage.com/digitalnext/article?article_id=131655) article.
For me (who became a Twitter user less than a month ago), Needleman may be correct. Regarding Twitter, it is merely an info aggragater; at least that’s the way I use it. Inversely, I rarely visit Twitter except to follow the news of a few people (which is pointless because most of the people I follow supply the same info using other services like Facebook).
Edgy Mama recently mused about it on Twitter (http://twitter.com/edgymama/statuses/959014214): “Wondering why folks want to follow me here when I hardly ever Twitter?” There are other, more efficient services to keep up to date with people in your social networks, but Twitter isn’t one of them.
From NPR (http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=95256794): “Switching from task to task, you think you’re actually paying attention to everything around you at the same time. But you’re actually not,” [neuroscientist Earl] Miller said.
From the Guardian (http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/booksblog/2008/sep/26/poetry.trains.oriordan): “trains sit deeper in the poet’s psyche; they become freighted with meanings both sublimated and exposed”
// Did I mention I’ll be reading poetry @ Malaprops this Sunday, Oct. 19 @ 3 PM? I’ll be reading my work along with other local poets.
//Which would you chose? A book of poetry by Randall Jarrell? The Savage Sword of Conan, Vol. 1? Or a book titled, Pagan Christianity?
// Automating one’s social networking status is easy. Automating one’s cash flow is more challenging.
// Three cups of Velvet Hammer. Three hours of fist pumping metal music. A vendor who can’t follow the !@#$ instructions. I lurve Mondays.
// OK, I’m really getting tired of the office doorbell.
It’s official, Oct. 19 – Poetry Reading @ Malaprops @ 3 PM. I’ll be reading my work along with other local poets.
// Enjoying Clawhammer (Oktoberfest Lager by Highland Brewing Company) as celebration for finishing design work on the weekend.
// Finished reading a Randall Jarrell book.
// Thinking about marketing… wondering about Wall Street… considering poetry… for some reason this all makes me very thirsty.
Coffee and poetry: This morning I was working at The Dripolator.
Another classmate came up to me and asked if I had studied poetry. That make a total of three classmates who have asked how it is I know so much about poetry and poetic techniques. The answer is simple: No, I didn’t go to school and study poetry. I just read books.
// What’s up with the office doorbell? It’s worse than my office phone ringing off the hook.
Girls’ Romances 1968 (via Vermont Ferret)
Evidence of Hippie Status:
- Long Hair
- Goatee
- Backpack
- Turtleneck?
I immediately thought JOE! And then I thought if my boyfriend wants to look like a hippie, then let him. At least he doesn’t wear Jesus sandals WITH SOCKS. Yes, indeed, Linda OMGWTF. ; ) or wear parachute pants
or these….nothing says dark, sexy, full of Wet ‘N’ Wild black eyeliner, morbidly ugly or obese, BDSM D&D dorkfest with white geisha powder than these:
That’s a look on the bright side for you.
I am that hippie.
// Listening to a lecture on classical mythology.
Last night, I submitted one of my poems for workshop. For those readers unfamiliar with what happens to a poem/poet during a “workshop” session, imagine a colonoscopy performed by pre-med students.
I could play the pained poet and claim that I am still recovering from the ordeal, but that’s not true because I’m still giggling.