2,2,2,2,then 5. I'm starting from an initial test of only two, and I didn't think I'd even be able to do 13 today already.
Last year I sort of covered the process of redoing my backyard on vox. It's been a year and the plants have filled in nicely.
I was kind of amazed at how closely the backyard matched my early scribbled designs:
Things don't look good for the iPhone.
- I call my local cingular store, but the local number plops me into the 1-800 national cingular sales desk and no one can tell me when and where I can get an iPhone on day one.
- Since I can't call my local store, I visit it.
- me: "Will you guys be getting iPhones on day one?"
them: "We don't get them until June 29th, they're not for sale right now"
me: "Yeah, I know, but on June 29th, how many iPhones will you have ready to sell?"
them: "I don't know"
me: "Will you have the iPhone on that first day?"
them: "I don't know"
The manager of the store was standing right next to Ms. I Don't Know and he didn't seem to correct her so I suppose that's official store policy.
Some juggling. First three balls, then one club/2 balls two clubs/1 ball, then three clubs:
[Note: I posted an excerpt of this on kottke.org, but didn't want to include the rest of it, so here's the whole thing.]
Heather Armstrong, on meeting her new neighbors and having to explain what she does for a living:
Over the last few weeks several neighbors have stopped by to introduce themselves, and invariably they are older than we are, more established, and have careers in medicine or law. And when they ask what we do, both Jon and I sort of flinch and exchange a quick look that says IT'S YOUR TURN TO LIE. We're web developers, we say, and that is never enough, they just can't leave it alone, and one of us will try to explain that I have a website. This thing. That I do. And because we're being all coy about it I just know, from the very worried expressions on their faces, that these neighbors think that we run a porn site.
This is the exact interaction I have with most people that I've met in the past couple of years, right down to the "we're web developers, we say, and that is never enough, they just can't leave it alone" part. I imagine professional mimes, phone sex operators, and people that make a living selling other people's stuff on eBay have the same sorts of awkward conversations with their new neighbors.
The expanded version of this dreaded conversation is:
Them: "So, what do you do?"
Me: "I'm, uh, a web developer. I built web sites, I guess."
Them: Some variation of "What company do you work for?" or "What project are you working on now?"
Me: "I work for myself on my own projects."
Them: [Blink, blink.]
At this point, they start using the Errol Morris technique of not saying anything so that the other person will talk to fill the lull in the conversation, which I always do because I'm already so on-edge and feeling awkward about the whole deal.
Me: "I have this web site that I do more or less full-time. It's a blog."
Thankfully, most people have heard of blogs at this point, even at family gatherings and such.
Them: "Oh, a blog. That's nice."
Them: [A long pause as they steel themselves to ask a potentially impolite question about money.]
Them: "So.....how do you make money doing that?"
Me: "Advertising. There's a small ad on every page on the site. And that's enough to pay the bills."
Them: "Oh, I see. So what is this site about?"
This is where my story and Heather's start to diverge. "I write about my experiences as a mom" is pretty straightforward, but I still don't have an elevator pitch for kottke.org. There are a set of topics that I cover regularly, but not with any sort of completeness or authority. This adds to my uncomfort.
I have only one trump card in this conversation, the thing that convinces most people that I'm not a) pulling their leg or b) wasting my life by not working a job that makes sense or requires wearing khakis, but I need to wait for the magic question before I play it: "Do you know how many people read your site?" The answer -- that hundreds of thousands of people read my site each month -- while quite low on the list of reasons why I do kottke.org, has an arresting effect on the questioner. The result is usually a respectful detente or a barrage of questions that is less awkward for me because we're suddenly on a more equal conversational footing regarding the topic...we now both believe that what I do has some merit to someone other than me.
I liked playing with Vox but now I am done. I have a blog of my own over at http://jessamyn.com/journal (rss, atom) and I encourage you to read it if this is the sort of thing that interests you. I have photos at Flickr, a professional blog of sorts and I'm even sometimes on Facebook. I'll still be reading here, I just won't be writing here.
I don't ever want to have to unclick a box that says "This may be offensive or otherwise not for the public." again. I do not want to read the Welcome to Vox Design thread anymore. I want to size my pictures more than four different ways. I do not want to see a lock next to a "viewable by anyone" indicator. I want to copy and paste without copying line height and font faces and hyperlinks. I want to see a cursor. I want styles of my own devising. I would like more friends and neighbors, and fewer "friends" and "neighbors." Those of you who are both know where to find me, and I know where to find you.
More to the point, it's Spring and I want to type less and walk by the river more. This is part of that. Thanks for your kind attentions. Come visit if you're ever in Vermont.
I posted this over on MetaFilter, but I wanted to add a little and copy it over here. Right now I'm in the DC/Baltimore area. One of the things I like about DC is how you always see people signing on the subway. This is probably because Gallaudet is nearby. When I gave my talk at Computers in Libraries on Monday I had an ASL interpreter.
I've always liked cover songs on YouTube. It's fun to see people's performances. I've become really fascinated lately with ASL (and sign languages from other countries; yes, they are different) cover songs. Some of these are done by Deaf people and some are done by kids in their sign language classes or just signing hobbyists. Texting and videoblogging have really changed the way that Deaf people interact both with each other and also the hearing community. For many folks who signed before they learned English, having a way to speak their native language on the Internet is sort of a big deal. Here are a few signing songs that I liked.
Popular: It's Like That, Humble Neighborhood, Son of a Preacher Man, Beautiful, Barbi Girl, Truly Madly Deeply, I'm Alive, Hips Don't Lie
Indie: Blister in the Sun, Across the Sea, Tom's Diner, Zombie;
Classics: The Rose (more, also without lyrics), Revolution, Hotel California
Rap/Hip Hop (some comedic): Baby Got Back, Ice Ice Baby, Music (more), Paul Revere, Grillz, White and Nerdy, Where'd You Go, Hey Ya
Non-English songs: Film Dust, Comme Elle Vient; Pseudosign: Torn (again), Sweet Home Alabama
Instructions: general tips, religious songs, and how to sign "rock & roll"
On-the-phone banker: So can I ask you a few security questions before we proceed?
Me: If I say no this conversation is pretty much over, isn't it?
Banker (laughs): Yeah, I guess it is.
Me: Well okay then, fire away.
Sometime in 1999 there was an episode of 0sil8 where Jason had people call his voicemail
at work and leave him messages. Then he published them on a little timewasting page.
I can't get them to play through the interface but all the .rm files are still there. I liked having
an audiorecording of a story I liked, so I made a little web page with the text, and a
nice looking picture and linked the story. Then I forgot about it for a long time.Now that I've been making some little movies, I'm digging through some old folders labelled
storage/ancient/reallyreallyold/misc crap/todo and finding things like this. I got a copy of
Audio Hijack and made an aiff out of the story. Then I converted it to an MP3 with iTunes.
Then I put it here.
