with Coltrane: the "changes themselves is some kind of story"

Totally lifting this quote from a newfound acquaintance (check him out: he tells beautiful stories), but it's too good to pass up.

While rehearsing the precipitously difficult piece in the studio, John Coltrane can be heard saying to his struggling colleagues, “I don't think I'm gonna improve this, you know . . . I ain't goin be sayin nothin, (I goin do) tryin just, makin the changes, I ain't goin be, tellin no story . . . Like . . . tellin them black stories."  Amidst the confounded mumbles of assent from his bandmates, one colleague rejoins, "Shoot.  Really, you make the changes, that'll tell 'em a story."  Surprised by this idea, Coltrane responds, "You think the changes're the story!" Overlapping him a second bandmate riffs, "(Right)... that'll change all the stories (up)."  His voice cracking with laughter, Coltrane admits, "I don't want to tell no lies (on 'em)."  After a group laugh, the second colleague trails off in a sort of denouement, "(The) changes themselves is some kind of story (man I'm tellin you)."

from Vijay Iyer's "Exploding the Narrative in Jazz Improvisation" [pdf]

THIS.

Changes brewing, more busy-ness-making, but all of it good. And, as stated above, the changes themselves is some kind of story. One I'll hopefully get a chance to share later. But not yet: too much in flux still. Later. Later.

still delayed.

It's been a weird few days. Heck, it's been a weird past week or two.

Next year, and in years to come, I need to streamline the year in review thing. Right now, I really do comb the whole past year, and it takes forever. This means photos, all the text I've produced in every little venue I have, my calendar, emails, chats, etc. It's ridiculous.

So basically, this is another promise to get it posted eventually, but it won't be tonight.

delay.

So I've been having Internet connectivity issues, and it looks like it's down at the moment. And since my entire life is online (not to mention posting it requires interwebs), my usual year in review will be delayed.

Just so you know.

catching what now?

Remember the "catching up with myself" goal of Sunday?

I failed. So now I'm behind again.

Got my recycling done, but then went to #psone and got sucked in until the night's movie outing. On the up side, I got some great shots.

disorganized breakfast and developments ramblings

It's a tea and marmalade-on-buttered-flax-bread sort of morning. My main task today is to catch up with myself.

I've been so busy, which has been great, but it has also meant that I've left things behind. My recycling is out of control (need to call the alderman, as my area seems to have been left in between systems--blue bag or blue box, and we don't have the new boxes, so I have to haul my recycling elsewhere). I'd like to get started with worm composting, though that may be a task for after I join #psone and thus have handy access to a drill so I can make my own enclosure rather than buying one.

I've already started a small pre-worm composting bin and am tossing my grapefruit rinds (have I mentioned that I've been re-addicted to grapefruit?) and used tea leaves in there. It's sooo nice to toss the tea somewhere I know it will be productive, rather than in the trash where I know it will be plasticized and then take up space in a landfill.

Oh! And just before May Day, I planted a little herb garden and some peppers (and re-potted the spider plant Marty gave me cuttings of) for my porch. The fact that it's enclosed is handy here, but it still gets a ton of light. Though we're already getting those fake ladybugs inside it. I hope they won't become a problem.

But back to breakfast: I picked up the tea last night in Chinatown, after learning that I can walk there in a terribly reasonable 15-20 minutes. Becoming too impatient to wait for the bus does have its perks.

But back to the tea. It's a peach-infused green which will make an excellent (and less caffeinated) alternative to the peach black I originally got a ton of at P.F. Chang's so long ago that I'm almost out of.

And it complements the apple-citrus sylt (marmalade). Which is, rather sadly, from IKEA, since I haven't gotten up to Andersonville to shop for the real thing yet.

Oh, and my favorite thing about this tiny breakfast this morning--the trick I started using to soften cold refrigerated butter: put the butter on the bread but don't even attempt to spread it until after placing it on top of the water boiler near the steam vent. So much easier afterward.

I've now talked with my landlord: I'll be staying in the aptly nicknamed GoldPeach past July and thus for another year. Which is excellent since I've finally got the furniture the way I want it and he's finally letting me hang things (and thus put holes in the walls).

I also started another professional blog since I've lost access to my Penn State blog space. The task right now is importing and adding backdated entries that were housed elsewhere or that I drafted way back when but never posted. Like the one about Flourish conference that I ended up drafting in an email to the head of the central management team when he asked about it. And I still need to write one about the TLT Symposium.

The oblique reference to #psone needs a bit more clarification, doesn't it? I first found out about it at Flourish, which is a conference about open source. And #psone is very open source-minded, though they work on a membership model. Their events are often open to the public, but usually for an extra fee (which is another way they raise money to support the organization, which is legally a non-profit). They recently started renting a space and are in the midst of the build-out, including the building of a loft space, among many other perks. Here are some pictures I took at one of the Tuesday meetings. Members teach each other what they know: programming to carpentry, press release writing to how to use a scroll saw, juggling to electrical engineering, and anything and everything in between. I might run one (if I join) about making chain maille/chainmail, jewelry and otherwise.

Could also do one on photography, now that I think about it. Friday was full of photography: I shot behind-the-scenes on a taping of Good Morning America in one of our labs. It should run next Friday morning. I've got the photos I could finish and post the half-hour I had left after the (long, exhausting) day up on our flickr account for the college.

I'm now out of marmalade and tea, so I'll have to continue this later. Too much else to get on with today.

in transit

Glaedig jul, all. It's Christmas morning, and I'm up way too early, woken by my new gas company with an automated message welcoming me as a customer. Sure, great message, but 8:08 a.m. on Christmas? Sounds like somebody didn't think things through.

Back up. A lot's happened since my last official update. A lot of that material I had to keep under my hat until it was all said and done, but most of that necessity's past now as well. And then I started lacking time. But now, with a few hours on my hands until the household rouses: well, update time it is. Helps that Dad reminded me to update last night, of course.

So! Since last we heard from our insipid adventurer . . . ahem. I mean.

Start over. I obviously need some tea or coffee or something. But I'm also not going to risk waking Dad or our guest further than I've risked it already. So this may be rambly. Fair warning.

In any case. I got a new job and am in the process of relocating to Chicago. Right now I'm between the two jobs, but the timing's right. The break between semesters always gives people a fresh start and is an ideal time to start (it's when I started with Penn State Admissions as well, I might mention). Great opportunity, great staff to be working with: I feel like I'll mesh there well. Plus the upgrade in terms of title and pay, of course. Never hurt anyone, and is especially welcome given the current state of the economy.

And it's all been remarkably smooth. The biggest hiccup has been underestimating how much stuff I've got to move. But even that isn't a huge deal. Everything else has been going remarkably well: found someone to take over my old place almost immediately, found a great new place with the help of a very old friend and his partner in crime, got moved despite extreme temperatures and getting the truck stuck in the snow on my old street (virtually inevitable, I might add, due to snow conditions and the way my old street's not level and the street parking is never plowed), had some lovely long-haul help and company from my neighbor-turned-friend, ran out of a bunch of things at exactly the right time, was immensely surprised and thankful that all my close old local friends showed up and pitched in to get me out of my old place (some I knew I could count on--thank you, other J--but others I simply didn't expect to see) and then had a great traditional meal and hang-out at old haunts with them, wrapped the photoshoots I intended to before leaving the area of a few DJs from my old company (though I still have to edit and post more shots from both shoots), wrapped up work best I could in the time I had; just generally, all's working out well.

I'm too Danish (read: cynical/pragmatic, depending on who you ask) to say everything's coming up roses, but for the upheaval I'm undertaking currently, the smoothness is astonishing. And I also have to thank family and friends for bearing with me during this time: people have been thankfully understanding when it comes to me being out of contact and/or rushed, etc.

Though I will admit that some of the time-out just now is half-obligation, half-vacation/break. G.S., the aforementioned neighbor-turned-friend, is with me on this move/holiday trip from Pennsylvania, and some time is being spent exploring my neighborhood, local cuisine, plus Chicago tourist attractions for his sake. Not that I don't enjoy them too. We hit the Shedd Aquarium for a quick stop, but still need to get to the Sears Tower and Art Institute, if nothing else. Oh! and Chinatown.

Christmas Eve went pretty swimmingly, and today should be an adventure. Guests in the holiday family craziness is always a bit of a wild card scenario, but all involved are easygoing enough that everything should be fine.

Looking ahead, the new job starts January 5th, and I have plenty to keep me occupied until then. The touristy stuff, setting up the new apartment, getting G.S. back to Pennsylvania and picking up the rest of my belongings, wrapping up accounts and such in PA, cleaning up the old apartment and handing over my lease, etc.

I hear people up and about, and I think that covers the state of things, so it looks like it's time to sign off and get moving. I would also note that I suspect my usual year-in-review will be significantly delayed due to all this. So: best wishes for the new year, kids.

trips and new developments

Again with the whole been 'too busy living life to blog about it' thing.

Took three trips in two weeks a bit ago. Missouri for a conference (excellent conference, by the way), the usual Palmyra run plus some shopping, and then Philly for some usability studies for work, which went pretty well.

In Philly, went out to dinner with the Director of Admissions of one of our campuses there and his family. He lives in Center City, in what's nicknamed the "Gayborhood," which is an amazing part of Philly.

I'd never really been to Philly proper: before only once, on an in-and-out run to a Garbage concert, which doesn't really count. But this time, I was able to take my time and look around. It's really gorgeous in some areas: very European, very historic.

I took a ton of pictures, one entire memory card full of pictures from Eastern State Penitentiary: a former state prison, since abandoned, but more recently reclaimed and stabilized as a preserved ruin. Amazing material. Slowly going through those photos now. Here are the sets thus far from Eastern State Penitentiary, Penn State Abington (the aforementioned campus), and around Philadelphia.

But all those trips in succession ended up making me way too crammed--ran myself a bit into the ground. Especially with Halloween right on their heels, which involved three get-togethers over the weekend, plus oatmeal-raisin cookie making with my neighbor. Thank goodness one of my costumes was multiple-use-friendly, or one of the three would have been out of luck.

Been hanging out quite a bit with my neighbor, a grad in the film department. We've never yet run out of things to talk about. My Netflix list of DVDs to watch is growing faster than I can keep up with it.

Got officially hooked on Fringe thanks to Hulu. Who needs cable TV? Everything I watch is online these days.

More trips to come. Next week's another Palmyra run, then Chicago/Wisconsin. Connecting up with a bunch of old friends and family, among other things.

Have another sinus infection. And strangely enough, as I was picking up my antibiotics, the pharmacist stopped me to ask about my last name. His is the same, and it's an unusual spelling. We started talking about our Danish relatives. And we might be related somehow. The immigration stories are the same--Ellis Island to Wisconsin--and the changed spelling too. The first name of his father wasn't familiar to me, and the initial was wrong (that side of my family has consistent initials), but it might've been a different branch.

I gave him my email address: he'll email me to get the link to the Geni family tree I've been working on. Which I'm going to add to once I pick up the more complete paper version that my uncle has.

Serendipity, you know? Odd little coincidences that seem to have been happening a lot lately. It's a pretty neat feeling. And there may be more to come.

this night.

I live in a ghost town. This is temporary. It's the night tonight: Bellefonte will resurrect itself by morning.

It's a charmed night, in a not-so-charming way.

Let me preface this. This story needs a context.

Let me also state for the record that it's been a weird, weird, weird, weird night. The style of this post will probably reflect that.

I started out today unable to turn over and go back to sleep, despite having granted myself permission to sleep in. Eight hours after I went to sleep, almost on the dot. It's been this way for awhile. Can't get more than eight. Often get less, but that's due to my weekday alarm.

So today, unlike most, I was horribly unable to focus. I had a to-do list as long as my leg, but managed to get all of one thing on it done, and that not even properly so.

As interruptus, in the present there's something in here with me that's whistling, and I don't know what it is. I'm strangely not unnerved by this. The rest of the night has reassured me that nothing else out of the ordinary can happen.

And this won't be all of it. As another interruptus, something in the sink shifted: knife sliding off a plate and clinking against the aluminum sink wall, I imagine, but again, strangely not startling to me.

If this shifting of scene seems like a dream, you're with me. Yes. Stay with me.

I have the day off tomorrow, giving me leeway to get this all down. Thankfully. I'd hate to lose it. Despite being weird, weird, weird, this ending is strange and beautiful. I love it. I want to go outside and drink it. And bottle some to save for later.

Back to this afternoon. No focus, constant interruptions (don't apologize, dear other J--I was thankful for yours, short as they were), frustration of each and every thing I started or wished to have started. I got some photos uploaded and laundry started. That's about the limit of my productivity.

Wait. Untrue. I did take care of L's kitties, last-minute. And a guest cat, who was a real handful. But! that was my limit.

And it was this way--knowing I was wasting time, but unable to do anything about it--until I had to leave for the club job.

Or thought I did. I ended up on the road early and got there a good twenty minutes before I needed to be. And realized this nearing town, but it wasn't worth the time to turn back.

I knew this. I knew this, I knew this. And this entire night, almost everything was full of this crystal awareness of the situation, but complete giving-over of myself to it, unable to struggle against its tides. And it was frustrating to watch, but impossible to fight.

So I got into town. My usual lot was full. I moved to the next-handiest street and parked comfortably. I got out to greet the night air, oppressive with humidity and frustrated potential. I shook my head even then, with the premonition of the weird wyrd ahead. (That may sound redundant, but it's not. Trust.)

I spent the twenty or so picking up some coffee for my late evening, sitting down with it on a big leather couch there, taking the time to squeeze in some reading. Reading was a perfect task for today, but I hadn't managed to tear myself away from trying to get things done, despite the futility.

And the realization of the futility. That's what kills me. The awareness tonight. I knew it all. I just couldn't do anything about it.

[For those who understand the reference, this night is so House of Leaves, minus the terror. There's no fear here, only mazes and knowing and realizations.]

{And maybe I should blame my perfume. Wearing Lune Noire on a full moon, the brightest I've seen in months, perhaps was not the best of plans. But it did start before that, this day.}

So it was that I was ducking in and out between the humidity of outside to air conditioning in my car to humid to coffee shop AC to outside oppression to coolness of the club when empty. And my allergies had been set off by L's cats.

And as soon as I arrived, total tragedy. We couldn't get the Steelers game on any of the monitors, no matter how many of us tried. Manager of the club? No luck. And this was tragic to the folks who needed (needed!) to see it (mostly staff).

The club opened with the majority of the monitors black, and us still struggling to fix the issue. Nothing I did had any effect. I tried every trick I had. All had turned against me.

Eventually, my manager (of our company, not the club's staff) managed to get it worked out, by manually switching every monitor in the place, almost. And this a temporary fix.

Tonight was the first night I'd worked after the recent change-over to being smoke-free. And I was asked to remind folks, and I did. And next had an assistant manager of the club rush over to add an addendum: folks could only smoke out the front of the club, not the back. They'd be locked out. Again, announced.

From the previous week, we'd had some issues with two of the speakers on the dancefloor, so we had turned down the highs in such a fashion that we were having trouble hearing the microphone inside the booth, so I stepped outside it to make the announcement. My co-pilot stayed in the booth.

Later, he stepped out for a cigarette. It was only after he'd made it out of eyeshot (and let's not even talk about earshot) that I realized he'd headed to the back, not having heard my announcement (though I had mentioned the fact to him).

I ran out to prop the door for him. He rushed to join me at the door, thinking something was wrong. I kicked the prop down and he misunderstood me. And then couldn't hear me due to the exhaust fans. And so forth.

The whole night, I'd been feeling strange. Off. I kept stretching, trying to work out odd sensations in my limbs and joints. Wondering if my co-pilot would take the movements amiss. Never occurred to me to address them with him.

We've had an odd relationship, he and I. On-again, off-again friendship-slash-something-else. Undefined, of course. But there's static there somewhere. Nothing enough to put a finger on, mind. We discussed it once, both at the time not entirely ourselves, and managed to leave the conversation entirely in the same place we'd started it, other than the fact that it occurred, and fallen back to amicability as a default, no deeper on any level. Which is fine, and may not change. Also fine. Though change would likely also be fine. I'm too flexible for my own good sometimes.

I've been having several online conversations in the past few days. One handles on masculinity and what it means, calling to mind my old Men's Studies class and conversations for that class with my father. The other about images of me online and my resistance to them, calling to mind my divorce and the aftermath of that initial split, as well as a ton of self-esteem garbage. Both had turned terribly unpleasant for me, and distasteful, though only in the very last exchange before I'd gone to work.

While at the club, I received the most recent responses from both. One was entirely more open than I'd expected of a response, which made me smile as I was perusing it on my iPhone during the breakdown of a song. And the other--the other was magic. The person I'm chatting with about it is a terrible, wonderful person for sending me the exact right response to my concerns. Exact. I love her and hate her for it, because she's going to get exactly what she wanted, and I know I'm being manipulated, but damn is she good at it. And I can't not respect that. And I almost resent it. But it is beautiful in its execution.

beautiful.

And I know me. And I know I wasn't shuttering my face, my response. I had no reason to, there. And I know he probably saw me bite my lip, smile in that bemused half-way that I have when I'm being viciously charmed, turn my head to consider, and put down my phone. And stare at it. And pick it up. And read her message again. And smile and bite my lip again. And put the phone down. And look at it. And try to open my book. And shut it. And distract myself with the music change and changing the video and lights. And stare unseeing at the dancefloor. And look at the phone again.

Or he may have missed it. Also fine.

But I wonder what he thought if he caught it. Though not enough to ask.

So stretching. Simple standing yoga poses. And then he complained of a headache. And joint pain. Which, along with the minor power flickers (and worry about more major outages, of course) and reminder of the arms of Ike passing through with wind and stormage and pressure changes, finally brought me to what today's whole problem may have been.

Major storm front. Full moon. Winds. Celestials whirling.

I had my answer. My two and two finally didn't add up to 3.78 billion. They became four and an eighth, roundabout. Not too badly off.

And because I have tomorrow off, and the buses don't run on Sundays and he didn't have his usual ride and doesn't drive himself, I drove him home. With a pause outside my car so he could have a cigarette.

And we talked about the moon. His experience seeing it rise brilliant over the ocean in the northeast, my experience seeing it rise huge over the desert in the southwest. Lying under it, thinking it was pre-dawn and wondering why my camp-mates weren't stirring. Watching it rise, taking up a good eighth of the horizon, every pockmark on its surface etched as if in crystal. Like the bowl on the dining room table at home that my grandmother had brought over from Denmark. The bowl round, its surface grooved.

I didn't draw that comparison then. I'm glad I didn't: he might've thought me entirely moon-mad.

And maybe I am. It'll be short-lived. It's just the night tonight.

So I drove him home, and we made plans that I half-expect to fall through just like so many other times we've tried to make plans. Something comes up, and it ends up just as well for both of us in the end. No skin off anyone's nose. And really, I'm pretty ligeglad (literally "like glad" in Danish--ambivalence in the way people abuse it in English, basically) about it each time. Which may say something. May not.

And then I drove home, leaving him to corral the trash that had been blown halfway down their yard.

I'd seen debris on the road as we drove, mostly branches and bunches of leaves. Saw more as I headed to the bypass towards Bellefonte. But upon arriving in Bellefonte, I saw things were much worse there.

Two intersections with lights out and police actually directing traffic with lights like those landing guys at airports. A truck in the middle of the second intersection, headlights beaming into my eyes, as they tried to fix things. Propped-up stop signs by other lights-out intersections. A bewildering sense of things-not-right-here. But also an innate reassurance that all will be right by morning.

My car, gliding through downtown Bellefonte like the only thing alive, like some dark ghost, saw no other movement than those men. Even the trees were silent. No waving in the breeze. Just their detritus on the ground. Unanswering.

What happened here? I wondered, but knew the answer. Darkened windows yawned at me from every building surrounding me, and I was reminded of my visit to New Orleans after Katrina. The ghost-town suburbs we slid through to catch my early-morning flight home. Desolate due to low population, doubly so due to the hour, and then the mist rising from the low-lying areas. Which was everywhere, there.

The space was potential, but also ghostly. I waited for the rise of the supernatural.

And so it was on my way home tonight. But I turned onto my street and found, to my surprise, that my side of the street had power. The other side had none.

I parked, got out, gathered my things, locked my doors. Turned to face the lit side of the street. And turned my back to it to face the unlit houses, to drink in the moonlight for a moment. The oppressive humidity had broken, granting us the clear night sky, the crickets and night-insects of a dying summer. I listened, and felt the night connect to me. Then I trudged inside to survey the damage.

I found my usually-touchy stove clock un-reset, not flashing, and had a hope for my computer, which I'd foolishly left on. I found that it, though, had restarted. And worse, my keyboard was disabled. I restarted properly, super-sensitive for any bad signs, and checked and re-checked that it was on a surge protector. Yes. No problem. Should be unharmed, right?

And interruptus: my computer, as I'm typing this into my blog platform, informs me I have an IP conflict with another computer. There should be nothing else on this network: I'm password-protected and don't broadcast my network name, at the very least. But there it is. Might be my iPhone. I'll investigate later: it seems to not be doing me harm.

So I restarted, and was concerned by my boot time, and I started to remember all I'd done, created, saved but not backed up since my last big back-up project. Half of my Hawaii photo originals could go poof, I realized. But I was being over-sensitive. It was fine, and all was in order when it restarted.

And that leads us to--well, right about now.

And a way-fuller understanding of this evening of mine than you probably wanted. And it's tl;dr to most of you, I'm sure.

Mercury retro? Full moon antics? Storm blowing through, causing associated discomfort? A combination? That's where I've settled. I'm going to sleep now, and I'll drift off half-wishing the universe into righting itself by the time I wake, and half-hoping some of the disjointed madness can stay with me, so I can keep this out-of-time-and-reality pseudo-madness in a back pocket, to pull out when my life gets too normal.

And leave you wishing you'd had a taste of your own tonight. Perhaps.

Process: one/day

Following Cole's lead, a little reflection about the One Post a Day project.

I agree with him in that it helps focus a concept to the point of sharing succinctly, but the down side I'd share is that I certainly have less time.

In fact, today's the first night in a week that I haven't had obligations other than this post. Well, I do, but they're not as pressing/scheduled as the others have been. Haven't even touched WoW in that time, in fact.

And I also suspect that quality suffers.

From memory, my blog output has generally been best when it's one or two a week. That gives me some time to percolate on a subject rather than just tossing it out there for the sake of having something up for the day.

And in fact, after the obligation of one-a-day is over, I suspect I'll take a hiatus to get things back to normal, and then try to go back to a schedule of that sort.

One a week is manageable. One a day is pressure, and it's not a good kind of pressure considering everything else I've got going on. But I've made it this far, so I'll (be trying to) finish out the month.

Spend a Summer Day notes

Writing my first post-a-day blog post in August on my iPhone during gaps in a Spend a Summer Day.

SASD, as we know it and love it for short, is a day-long open house event held at all Penn State campuses. At Penn State University Park, due simply to demand, it's held on six days: every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday spanning two weeks, usually bridging July and August.

August 1st, incidentally, is also the day our new application for admission goes live. Given that and the fact that EVERYONE in the office helps during SASD (our Executive Director was running between the HUB and Schwab Auditorium on Monday trying to fix a problem), to say this time of year is stressful is an understatment.

I've been staffing our table at the information fair during the event pretty regularly so far, and I've noted a difference in style between me and some of my colleagues. Some colleagues push our brochures, despite all the information in a few of them being available online.

If I can make a generalization, these tend to be the older admissions folks who are more used to using the brochures. Others offer options: you could grab this AP brochure to see what credit you'd get for what score on which test, or you can look it up on our website. (for my own commentary, why waste the paper and cost us the money for four scores they could easily look up?)

I've also found that when I offer my AIM handle to students I'm talking to, they get super-enthusiastic. And even their parents start telling me I'm the last word in customer service: above and beyond and all that.

So while this doesn't affect the larger conversation of the newest modes of electronic communication, it does tell me that some folks are picking them up no problem (students, to generalize), some folks are slowly picking them up or recognizing their value (parents), and some folks will print out webpages if the brochure is discontinued (the non-technologically-savvy).

But the thing is, we have to serve them all. Penn State is committed to serving the Commonwealth, and any one of the above could either become a student here or at least interface with the University in some way.

So how do we serve all, even those not comfortable with technology?

I think the idea of engaging the early adopters is a good one (apologies that I don't remember who suggested it right now), and certainly paves the way to spreading the word in a grassroots fashion.

Something else I'd like to explore further, perhaps in a later post, is how technology can help us realize cost savings and green initiatives without leaving anyone behind, especially considering the widespread nature of Penn State's mission.

Meta on the level.

You may have cycled back here to find a flood of new posts. More than usual, anyway.

Most of it is explained here, but the gist of it is that a colleague put us up to the challenge of writing a post per weekday in August and I'm giving it a whirl.

I set up Ubiquitous Connectivity to be the primary place those posts will go, but I also decided to copy/paste them over here.

So yes, these are very much theory/work-related, but I figured the folks over here would appreciate them, so I'll save you the trouble of checking both blogs.

August challenge

Taking up Cole's challenge of a post a day for August, according to the rules outlined there. Me and Daniel and Shannon so far, as far as I've seen.

Love to say more on the matter, but I've got a meeting in a second here. One thing to share before I go: I'm reading Clay Shirky's Here Comes Everybody: The Power of Organizing without Organizations and also was fed a video of Shirky talking about his book by someone in my network (the section about flash mobs is especially engaging: "nothing says dictatorship like arresting people eating ice cream," for example).

And the commentary I'd like to add is that this is, to some extent, what we're doing. Someone has an idea, puts the call out there to see if anyone's interested, and people throw their hats into the ring, cooperatively arranging taxonomies (er, folksonomies, really) to tag and aggregate content, resulting in a pool of information and new ideas being created.

It's what I've seen in action growing slowly over a year, accelerated by the TLT Symposium and Twitter, sparked further by TweetMeets and BS Breakfasts and Bookclub, and burst into full flame (as far as I can tell) in Learning Design Summer Camp here at Penn State. And I'm convinced that this is the way to do it.

But it's happening this way (or similarly, at least) elsewhere: EduWeb happened recently, and people were Tweeting and videostreaming (alternate) and liveblogging sessions, and it was almost as good as being there, minus a significant amount of in-person networking and fun. But it can be done. I've been caught up in this plus Jeffrey Veen's idea of an audience ombudsman for conferences and trying to figure out how this works in purely-online communities.

And it really goes back to the idea of an alpha user, I think. But the thing is that we've got a bunch of them here at Penn State.

More to develop on this idea. But it will have to hold: I've got a meeting for our campus tour podcast project coming up.

4th fun

Though tentative plans made got shoved aside, the 4th was a remarkably fun time. We made giant bubbles, grilled veggies and tofu and chicken and burgers, hiked out to a field for the fireworks (a bit late, but hey), made up some new drinks with what we had on hand, tested new scents out (some of us, anyway: BPAL, of course), had our own little fireworks display and light show, and generally had a good day of it.

The next couple days were filled with the crunching of photos, yoga, and there was a game in there somewhere as well. Photos from the 4th here, and the Wisconsin visit here (Lady of the Lake tour alone here).

And I realized today I haven't touched WoW since, like, Thursday. Even to check the Auction House. Bit of a rarity, though no huge deal or anything. I'd say people are probably wondering where I am, but then again, I've been out a lot lately, though usually for trips or conferences. Which is mostly over for the season, I think. And now the press to Spend a Summer Day.

The continuing limbo . . . well, continues. Thus the name.

Got more RAM into my computer and it's behaving well, finally, which is a very good thing. Exciting times in the onthelevel household.

Arts Fest is this week. Took a couple days off for that, so I'll have at least two short weeks in a row. Going to do pirate day properly this year, sounds like. So that should be fun.

Recently re-read The Long Tail, now moving on to Everything is Miscellaneous. Just my professional reading list is out of control, let alone my personal. I should really tackle the ones I have out from the library before the ones I own, though. Tough to prioritize, though, due to things like the Brainstorming Bookclub getting shoved in there. Don't get me wrong: great idea and it'll be fantastic. But it does mess up the order of my list a bit.

Too much to do, too little time. But isn't that always the case?

conference season

Long time no update: apologies. We're well into conference season, which is always a whirlwind, plus I've had other trips here and there to throw into the mix as well. Oh, and moving.

As always, Twitter's the best way to keep track of me: check out the running commentary on the right.

So in advance of moving, I whipped back to Wisconsin for a brief visit. I have many photos, audio, and fond memories of that quick trip, as well as some fantastic curtains. Long story. I intend to get to crunching and uploading those photos soon, hopefully.

Then there was the moving, which went about as well as a move can. Surprisingly well. There was an issue with my bed and the size of our generously-lent van, but other than that, I really can't complain. And complaining's what I do best when it comes to moving. I kid. I do know how to go about it, after so many moves in my past and such, but it's never fun.

There was one quick symposium which opened the run of conferences: the TLT Symposium, which was simply amazing. The community really came together and evolved online for this one, which was a fantastic experience. I really can't say enough about how relationships were created and strengthened and we continued to help and inform each other even afterwards.

Memorial Day got stuck in here somewhere, during which I ran from one event to another (three in all) and got terribly sunburned. Good times, though.

We started conference season proper with the Penn State Undergraduate Admissions Spring Conference, during which we traveled between Penn State DuBois and Penn State Altoona. Great to see both campuses. The one session I thought I was doing there turned into three--all went well enough, I think, and I hope I spread some of the social networking word in the original. I don't think it's news to any of them--at least I hope not--but I hope it provided some practical advice for starting/managing one.

A few weeks later was the Penn State Web Conference, which was potentially game-changing. More, perhaps, on that later. But there were excellent sessions by Steve Krug demonstrating the need for usability testing in our own backyard, by Mark Greenfield showing the hows and whys of social networking, and many others.

After that was a quick trip to Buffalo and one to the Hershey area. Both excellent visits. Yesterday was Dax's birthday party which, as always, was a trip and a half and left us all sleeping quite well. Dax likes to hold his birthday at a park, and there's always fun mucking about on the playground equipment, with gymnastics and jumping around and fake parkour and generally wearing ourselves out. Because that's what Daxes do, and we're obviously obliged to help on his birthday.

Today--in about an hour, in fact--I'm leaving for another conference, this one for all the admissions counselors and high school counselors that deal with the college search process in Pennsylvania. It'll be good to connect with folks I haven't seen in awhile--and heck, even those I haven't seen since our Spring Conference.

There's been talk about other trips: Hershey again for the usual monthly event, as well as other trips to visit the spa and Hersheypark. Possibly a visit to H. and K. in the fall, which is a longer endeavor. But I'm loath to schedule things right now: I'm experiencing a kind of limbo which I'll clarify later, but is making things difficult right now.

So that's the current state of things. More later.

update for the update-impaired

Here's a bit more complete an update:

Health-wise, my allergist has figured out that I have what basically amounts to a chronic sinus infection. Three rounds of seriously stupid antibiotics and anti-inflammatories and expectorants and nasal sprays planned: if these don't work, they're talking surgery. In a lot of ways I don't expect them to, since the first one did not (though did improve matters for a time) and this round seems to be making things worse, not better. Tea with honey is my friend currently.

Work-wise, my patience is running on the thin side. Stress-wise, I'm rather through the roof, since I'm also taking a class this semester and it's consuming a large portion of the time I'd otherwise get to unwind during.

Personally, despite all this, I'm doing okay. I'm starting to make plans to move at the end of May, though whether that's local or away from the area is still up in the air. It's about time I had my own space. Part of what makes J such a great roommate is that we stay out of each other's way well, generally, but that has started to degrade over time and is no longer fully the case, enough so that I'm ready to be done. We're still good friends, nothing's changed on that end--it's just time.

To that end, I'm eyeing all my belongings, readying for a purge. Though there's a lot I don't want to lose, just put away so I don't have to move it two or three times, potentially (one or two local moves, then a longer one).

A lot of things are coming to a head in the next three months or less. I'm just hoping against hope that the timing all works out well.

drainage

Today, morning greeted me clear and cold, far more like fall than the rest of the weather we've been having lately. The sky was gorgeous, clear sun shining into the landscape with a backdrop of storm clouds that undoubtedly dumped on us overnight--which I, mercifully, did not hear.

If you remember me complaining about not being able to sleep due to the noise of the rain, well, we found out the cause when the paint in the corner of my room closest that noise started bubbling, and the paint on the metal rib of the stud in the corner created a gap from the rest of the wall. I called it into the management, and they found that the contractors hadn't finished sealing the roof. Let me reiterate: they left part of the roof completely unsealed. Therefore, the noise I heard was the rush of water being funneled between the roof and the drainspout and down the wall next to my head.

We've been there two years, and yeah, I could've spoken up earlier, but you'd think they'd have noticed the washed-out spot? But then again, that happens in lots of places where it seems to be sealed just fine: I'm of the opinion that they really screwed up the drainage plan for this place.

In any case. It's fixed, the noise no longer happens, but in order for them to repair the damage in the wall, I'd have to completely dismantle most of my bedroom and move it out of my room. Erg.

Then again, maybe there's an opportunity for them to do that while I'm away. This upcoming trip is too soon: I leave Sunday, return Wednesday. Conference time: headed to Rochester for it. The following one's a possibility, though. Though I'm still not confident in it happening, even though I've got ticket confirmations and such.

Unfortunately, there are a few fires to put out at work before I leave, so I should get to those. Like now.

too busy to blog

As a good (online) friend of mine recently stated (hope you don't mind the paraphrase, B): the ironic bit about blogs is that when you've got the stuff going on to blog about, you don't have time to blog about it.

And so it is over here. Keeping myself busy with three yoga classes a week, for starters. And just in the near-ish future, my usual (monthly) trip to Hershey, then HighEdWebDev (a conference which I thoroughly enjoy) in October, then a supposedly-booked-but-I'll-believe-it-when-I-land-there trip to Hawaii in November.

And with that statement, I've got to run. S just came to drop off CSA veggies and invited me over (after a two-hour-long conversation, but that's normal for us).

yoga, summers, water, mountains, Seattle, work. in (not-so) brief.

I headed out of yoga last night, chatting with S. all the way, after she kindly waited while I talked to our teacher for a bit. She's refreshing: we should talk more, hang out more, but neither of us seem to be able to find the time.

The first bits of a thunderstorm were letting loose: I offered to drive her over to her car, parked about a block away, but she declined since she likes having the walk after yoga. Wish I could think like that, but for me, it's all I can do to get there on time. Stupid work getting in the way of my yoga. ;)

While driving home, I watched the rain evaporate off the blacktop as mist from the heat of the day, and when safely ensconced at home, enjoyed the thunder accompaniment. I love summer thunderstorms. It's foggy this morning, and cool, following the storm. I'm enjoying it very much.

There's a summer dish I've been craving since Monday that Dad used to make every once in awhile: a (from memory) really simple cucumber-and-vinegar dish. I meant to call and ask him about it on Monday, but got sidetracked with mom and planning for a trip we've just scheduled for November. Very exciting stuff, but I'm not going to trust that it's real until I'm on the plane. It's that surreal.

The Google (ha) isn't helping me with the recipe either: all of them have either mayo and sour cream, and I don't remember that at all. Dad, check me on this: it's just thinly sliced cucumber in white vinegar with sugar stirred in, right? And then chilled? Is it that simple, or is my memory just failing me?

Summers are always more than a bit nuts for me: you'd think it would be our down time here in Admissions, but it's not. It's cleanup time for some things, plus Spend a Summer Day prep and the six days themselves, plus the new web app going up each year.

That said, I wish I could get some time away to go see the boats my Dad's captaining these days. Take the new Black Point tour, perhaps. That's one thing this area is lacking: I love the mountains, but the lack of large bodies of water is something I miss pretty regularly. We've got streams, occasional rivers, but no convenient ponds or lakes. But maybe I just got spoiled with that big pond at the last place mom and I lived in Woodstock, then the Mississippi in St. Paul, then of course Lake Geneva.

Water's calming, stilling. The soft grandeur of the mountains here have a similar effect, but it's entirely different in feel. Seattle's were much more imposing, but distant. But their water was much more immediate. The Sound, Lake Washington, Lake Union, Green Lake: I saw almost every one of these regularly while I was there, most of them daily. They're spoiled with water and mountains.

I really need to make a fuller entry and notes about my visit there: I've just been so pushed for time lately, and I keep pushing off commitments, which is a problem. I'm not even finished with crunching the photos from the trip. But I took 3,700 shots, so that's kind of understandable. What I've put up so far you can see here. Oh, and Dad? Check out the Ballard and Nordic Heritage Museum sets. Ballard was originally settled by Scandinavian immigrants, so they have events like "Tivoli Viking Days" (I'm not making this up), and they have an actual, honest-to-goodness and still owned by the family Danish bakery and a bunch of Scandinavian foodstuff grocers, plus a bunch of retirement homes that are named for the groups they were either founded by, or primarily serve--all Scandinavian-based names. And you'll see some familiar items in the museum set. ;)

It's really as if Seattle was making a serious play for my attention: the seafood was exquisite, the sushi was the best I've ever had in my life, plus all this Danish heritage stuff? Sold. Y'know? That's another thing I've missed here: there's a lot of Dutch, a lot of German, a lot of miscellaneous Eastern European, in terms of original settlers, but not much Scandinavian stuff at all. Minor complaints, it might sound, but for someone who wants to keep connected to that community, keep the language I learned in good speaking shape, that's a powerful lack. And a powerful selling point for a place that has it.

Now, I'm not going anywhere for a year at least (I'm in a lease, if nothing else), but I have given it some thought, though not anywhere approaching serious, "how would I do this"-type thought. I've got time enough for that. But even aside from all the college friends who moved out there, I also know a couple that recently moved out there from Madison, so I should have all the practical advice on how to do it right and well if I should need it.

And I have friends there. Not only the college clan, but folks I'd known before only online, who I met when I went and spent two pretty full days with and became almost immediate fast friends. They're some of the most immediately awesome people I've ever met. You know how you start liking people more the more you get to know them? Not these folks. Right off the bat, they were far too cool to be true. But enough raving about them. The point is that making new friends is one of the most scary parts about moving. With Seattle, at least, it wouldn't be as much of a concern for me.

Done raving about Seattle. Dax and L. keep teasing me that everything's better in Seattle, since I keep naming things that are. I've had to chastise them that no, not everything is (I can name a couple things off the top of my head that are distinctly better here: traffic being a big one), it's just that the things I remember best and thus talk about are.

Back to the here and now. I smell like peaches this morning, due to my peachy BPAL Chaos Theory I got last year at this time. I'm really glad I put it on this morning. I tossed on my off-white cardigan, and the danger of leaving cardigans in my office for when I need them is that they start to smell like my office. But that's been the case with every office building I've ever known: they have a building smell, and after all day in it, that building smell will cling. But maybe I just have a sensitive nose.

Yesterday was a day-long meeting about this year's budget proposal. Let me repeat: Day. Long. Meeting. Wasn't as painful as I thought it would be, though. Though I drank far more coffee than I usually do (the usual amount being zero).

I was also by far the youngest one there. I noted it and thought it was weird, but I don't think anyone else noticed. Except for at lunch, where I had mentioned yoga, and then everyone at my table leapt in to describe their various back problems, sciatica, neck injuries, etc. One guy's back had seized and he had collapsed while walking up his block, just laying there until some stranger helped him. Carried him to his truck, drove him to his house, deposited him in his bed. When he still couldn't move, he eventually called 911. Bizarre. Makes me none too keen to get older. ;) But I guess that's a good reason to be starting yoga before I need it for physical therapy or some such.

I'm debating going to classes three times a week rather than my current two. I love it, it makes me feel awesome and I can tell I'm making progress. I'm still amazed at a few things I can do that I certainly wouldn't have been able to before starting (or when I was in that down time before I picked it back up again). It's just a time issue. As is everything, it seems.

Speaking of which, I should really get to it.

fresh

Just visited Tait Farm to do the CSA pick-up thing. And on the way back, over Nittany Meadow Farm, the masses of clouds had slices in them, allowing beams to come through. Gorgeous.

I picked up some mint and lavender plants while I was at Tait, and realized while walking back to my car that growing plants and fresh things make me happy. Not that I didn't know this before, but it was notable then.

Now, out of my monkey suit. Though this particular monkey suit garnered me two compliments today, and my hair at the meeting I wore it for garnered two more. This suit's one of my better combos: "spiffy," as J. put it minutes ago. It's got a very subtle pinstripe in coral, and a matching, almost shocking solid coral lining which you can see pretty well at my cuffs when I raise my hands or arms at all. I was amazed that I managed to find a matching coral blouse, but I managed to. It's a good look, if I do say so myself.

The hair's my new favorite 'do: my version of a French twist, the proper version of which always fails because I have too much hair. Instead, I get a bit of a knobby bit at the bottom, but it still looks decent for awhile--until I get too many flyaways, anyway. But the whole thing I've got anchored at two points, only one of which is usually visible. No bobby pins.

I got another appearance compliment earlier this week: the colleague in question called it my "mystery woman" look, for some reason. It's a long wool skirt, soft pink shirt, and funky/romantic jacket with slightly puffed shoulders. I like it quite a bit (picked it up at Target on sale: don't tell).

My project for this weekend is an annual tradition at this point: writing the Free Comic Book Day article for the guys at Comic Swap, to be put out in the Centre Daily Times next week. Deadline's Monday. I could say that it should write itself by now, but it won't. There's always something new, and I certainly have to change it up each year. I'm skipping the staff's favorite picks this year for that very reason, I think. But they've got a guest artist coming in, so there should be plenty of other things to cover.

Off to eat before people arrive here.

yoga as practice, yoga as technology

I just got back from yoga, and am enjoying that stage where I can feel every muscle that worked, which provides me with an odd sort of loose-limbed grace. Combine that with one of two mental states that usually occurs thereafter--either so fully open and relaxed that I'm taking in everything all at once and feeling no need to process it, or so completely focused and energized that I often go back to work and bang out half of the day's tasks in an hour or two--and it makes for a very fluid drive home. I'm experiencing the former state today, though this time I was able to free myself from the urge that often accompanies it--that of not wanting to break that state and focus on anything. But at the moment, I have a keyboard at hand, and everything's fine. This focus is an easy one for me--though of course, I'm not entirely sure if it's an appropriate state for clear writing. We'll see, I suppose.

This semester I decided to change to taking this class twice a week, and I'm glad I did.

Tonight, after finishing savasana and wrapping class with a "namaste" given and returned, I did an impromptu sarvangasana--a shoulderstand. Since I was already warmed up, I didn't even hesitate: I pretty much rolled back and went straight up, no prop, no nothing. After my teacher realized what I was doing, she called out a couple of tips, to which I adjusted immediately.

I feel the need to mention here that when I first started, I hated inverted poses like this. The first class where we were to try them, I asked the forthright question of "do we have to do these?" Not being impertinent at all: it was an honest question of if they're integral to a yoga practice. I wanted a good reason before I subjected myself to them. I was afraid of tipping over and hurting myself--and not unreasonably so, I might add. But now I love these poses. They change your viewpoint, and not just at the time.

I've also been remembering the changed viewpoint of when I practiced on the roof of a building in Indianapolis at sunset. Very dramatic, very memorable. Loved it. On that trip as well as others, I had brought along my Yoga Paws--mitts and sock bits that simulate a yoga mat without having one with you--intending to practice wherever I went: rest stops and hotel rooms and parks and mountains and streams. I only remember actually practicing at one rest stop, and both that and the rooftop bit were done without the Yoga Paws. So while helpful, they're probably unnecessary. I'd rather do the yoga than take the time to hunt down the accessory, because if the hunt takes too long, I might not do yoga at all. At that time.

But as some teachers and publications might tell you, while you might be "doing" yoga during a class or a session, it does become a way of life. Your practice extends to the rest of your time, to one extent or another. Just on the way home, I found myself adjusting my shoulders and arms to drive optimally without constricting muscles that I tend to coil too much. I've found myself unconsciously doing yoga adjustments while drying my hair, doing the Down-Dog tilt with my head upside down. After a long trip, Dad and others have seen me go into Tree Pose, Cobbler's Pose, Mountain Pose.

I sat down and made a list of all the poses I knew off the top of my head one day. It was impressively long, and rather amusing to read. Just some of the animalistically-named poses are fun: Fish, Camel, Cat/Cow, Sphinx, Cobra, Pigeon. I love Pigeon. Some people hate Pigeon. But to be fair, there's a lot of poses I find challenging that others don't, and vice versa. But I digress.

For the last six days, my voice has come in and out. No reason that I can discern. Grand-boss says I sound like Lauren Bacall. We tried to figure out a modern equivalent that prospective students might understand and came up short. But my point is that I asked Christine for any tips she might have for such. She gave a few and told me to try one. I did, and instantly felt things clear. While it's not magic, as Arthur C. Clarke said: "Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic." Working with the loosest definition of the term, yoga (and jin shin-jitsu, which is also a bit of what she showed me) is then technology.

From a simple expression about returning home from class to yoga as technology in less than 800 words, even allowing for meandering. Welcome to my brain.