etc.

Do you create, design and/or maintain websites for a living or for pleasure? If so, do you use an HTML editor (like Dreamweaver, FrontPage, etc.) or hand-code in a text editor (WordPad, etc.)? This came up in a conversation I had recently and I was surprised at the points of view I heard (nothing more on this just yet). I thought that a little investigative work needed to be done, so humour me.

The presentation went well. Periodic resounding “WOW”s from any audience is a good thing and presents a confidence boost to the presenter, and when each audience member leaves with more than one new piece of information (which is all I hoped for in my limited expectations) they tend to attribute the wowness of the session to the presenter, when really all I was doing was showing them neat stuff that other people designed. But it felt nice to bask in that reflected glory for a few minutes. The handout is here if you are so inclined. The links speak volumes.

Various side-projects and design/crafty tasks have kept me occupied all week. Most notably: working on a presentation I am giving to staff at my library (due to-morrow) and making things with beads. On the first: I agreed to give a Brown Bag Lunch Talk to other librarians where I work regarding a really good conference session I was at a couple of weeks ago. My session is somewhat obscurely titled “Clutter Reduction: Tips to Make your Web Life Easier” and brings together a bunch of online utilities, browser add-ons and other such useful gems that are freely available online that people don’t make nearly enough use of. Especially people who depend on the Web to accomplish practically every work-related task, like librarians. I’m using a few of the tools Gary introduced at his session and adding a few of my own personal favourites. It feels like I’ve been preparing for this for weeks (and in truth, I have), but I haven’t quite hit that necessary comfort-level that is required before presenting material to a group of professionals. I’m hoping to hit it sometime between now and 11am to-morrow.

And making things with beads has sucked up all of my downtime. I find that mid-week days off are great opportunities to do either errands or hobby-related stuff, and since I couldn’t muster up the energy or enthusiasm for errands yesterday, I went to The Sassy Bead Company instead and made necklaces out of glass and crystal beads and sterling silver findings. Joy! It was fun and addictive and I left the store 3 hours and 3 necklaces later (and a fistful of dollars poorer). On the up side, I now have enough beads to last me though a mid-length seige, even if I hold beading parties every night for 12 of my closest friends. So if your bead needs aren’t being met, I might be able to help.

Thanks to Blue Vinyl for Pandamonium, the wickedly terrific font used in this redesign. Some days I redesign because I feel like freshening these pages up. Other days, a new design simply pours forth from a shot of pure, electric creativity. Zippitydodahzippityday!

The only books I have very little to say about are those that I neither love nor hate because if a book arouses either emotion in me, I can usually muster up plenty to say about it. I don’t have much at all to say about this book, it was just OK. It is about the mysterious death of a has-been rock n’ roller who, despite platinum records, never really manages to rise out of mediocrity. Jack Tagger, the narrator, is a fallen-angel in the world of Florida journalism, having once been a high-rolling investigative reporter who managed to piss off the wrong people enough to result in a serious demotion to the obit page. So Jack is a bitter, curmudgeonly type and I’m usually warm to bitter, curmudgeonly types, but Jack raves just a bit too much in a not-interesting-enough way, and I’ve already said way more about this novel than I thought I could. It’s vintage Hiassen from what I’ve heard (this is my first Hiassen, so I can’t really attest to that), so if you like Hiassen then you’ll probably like this. Here’s a writer who has stumbled upon a formula (fast-paced, hard-hitting, mystery-type novels with conveniently cohesive endings and two-word titles like Sick Puppy, Tourist Season, and Native Tounge) that sells, so I guess that means the formula works. It just doesn’t work for me. (swap)

Leaf worshippers rejoice, Caterina has posted this lovely list of tea recommendations. I walked away from the evil bean in favour of the aromatic leaf five years ago (that milestone was celebrated on January 20th) and I haven’t looked back. However, I am not as much of a purist, I will admit to seeking comfort in a tea bag. If it wasn’t for them I would have to endure my morning commute without a fragrant brew within reach, and that would be quite insufferable.

I don’t drink regular black orange pekoe if I can help it, it always surprises me that that is all some people have to offer when they invite you for a cup of tea. My standard morning cup is Earl Grey, and I branch out from there depending on the time of day. My cats recently broke my everyday teapot, which has forced me to fall back on my 6-cupper, which is far too big for comfort, so I’m planning a trip to The Tea Emporium (my favourite local tea retailer) this weekend to replace it and to stock up on some white tea.

Something Baker said during the interview I was at last week has had me thinking all week. He said that he tries to live his life with the following mantra: DWDWD (Do What you Don’t Want to Do). Force yourself to make that call, even though you’ve been putting it off for days; turn on your computer and write that chapter of that book that has been percolating in your brain; sit down and start thinking about that website you said you’d design, but haven’t done a damn thing about for months (OK, this is me, not Baker). Basically, deal with things and get them done before the weight of inactivity bears so heavily down upon you that action and usefulness start to seem like an impossibility.

Two things about DWDWD struck me: 1) it seemed like a great way to impose some discipline upon yourself, not only because it’s the phrase a relatively famous literary person uses to stir himself out of procrastination, but also because it seems like the kind of thing that might just work, and 2) it is a very utilitarian way to get through any given day. And this is where the waters get muddied for me: should I strive to live a utilitarian life, should being Useful be the be all and end all of human existence?

It must have been somewhere in the middle of my fourth year at university, when I was downing in Brecht, Beckett, and Pinter that I turned my back on utilitarianism and walked towards absurdity, and I haven’t looked back since. But last week I took my dry-erase marker, wrote DWDWD on my mirror just above my to-do list, and I’ve even repeated it to myself in times of disciplinary lapse over the past seven days. I’m not sure if it is working yet, but if it is it might be the first sign of a personal philosophical shift of radical proportions.

Mike got back from a few-day trip to New York yesterday. I had planned a large-scale clean-up and purge in the apartment while he was away, I seem to work better domestically when I have the place to myself. But the clean-up didn’t happen, instead I played the gadabout: Saturday was Liz’s and Chris’ wedding, which was lovely; Sunday I went to The Hours with my sister, which we both loved and agreed that the screenwriter and filmmakers did a great job with the book, and that the film might not be as enjoyable to someone who hasn’t read it; Monday I attended the first meeting of a book club I am now in (we’re reading White Teeth); Tuesday I met with some folks on a website I am designing for them; Wednesday I saw Mamma Mia with my sister and grandmother followed by some decent gnocchi at an Italian restaurant; and tonight we celebrate Matthew’s (our nephew) first birthday.

Michael and I are not much of a social pair, especially during winter (and especially this winter), and I’ve been somewhat languid for a few months, at least since this extreme cold has made me feel like doing nothing more than hibernating with some good reading. So it was nice to have a short flurry of days to catch up with family, see some friends after ages, and make a few new ones. I feel like I’ve filled my social quota for the next few months and can bear out the rest of the winter quitely and peacefully.

This is the first piece of fiction by Nicholson Baker that I have read and I have the feeling that I am going to become a lot more familiar with his work over the next couple of weeks. Critics like to call Baker a miniaturist, whereas he himself prefers to be called a precisionist, and I think there is also a case to be made for a detailist. This book is all detail, observation, rumination, a place where both Baker and the narrator seem to work through many of life�s small truths by examining the minutiae of every day in small, tightly-knit sentences. And this is a big part of why I enjoyed this book as much as I did – I have always valued just plain good writing over plot, and there is no discernible plot to this book other than the theme that binds the work: our narrator wakes up early every morning, usually somewhere between 4 and 5 am, makes coffee, and lights a fire (having been to a reading by Baker last week, I know that this is something he actually did – he started with a box of what was supposed to be 30 matches but in fact turned out to be 33, he woke up very early every morning, lit a fire with one match, and wrote a single chapter). At the reading, Baker admitted to a certain amount of autobiographical detail which made the book all the more intriguing for me, but even without that context this book makes for an enjoyable, contemplative read.

Today is National Flag Day. And because, here in Canada, we so desperately need a long weekend sometime between December and April, I signed the petition to have National Flag Day considered a statutory holiday, probably because the chances are considerably slim that this other petition will get any results.