Friday, February 18, 2011

I am not a fan of Writer’s Block

I am not a fan of Writer’s Block
WRITER'S BLOCK is a condition, associated with writing as a profession, in which an author loses the ability to produce new work. The condition varies widely in intensity. It can be trivial, a temporary difficulty in dealing with the task at hand. At the other extreme, some "blocked" writers have been unable to work for years on end, and some have even abandoned their careers. It can manifest as the affected writer viewing their work as inferior or unsuitable, when in fact it could be the opposite.

Currently, I suffer from this affliction so well noted on my favourite internet source; Wikipedia. Now we could dwell on what I’m blocked from writing, how I got here, what to do, blah blah blah.
But you’re not here for stories about ME. Well you are. But not the boring ones.

Today’s subject, for lack of something better, Wikipedia.
Wikipedia is a wonderfully distracting tool. It can be a source of information, misinformation, silly facts, horrible lies and an effective procrastination tool favoured by many in the writing, office, student and ‘alive’ occupation. We’ve all done it, we’re all doing it right now! There’s a word that’s new. There’s a place you’ve never heard of, there’s something really gross that you want to know the origin or a silly limerick you can’t remember the end of. Jokes, people, places, religion, products, imaginary lands, systems of government and law – you name it Wikipedia has it.
Like my favourite word:
BOX (plural boxes) describes a variety of containers and receptacles for permanent use as storage, or for temporary use often for transporting contents. The word derives from the Greek πύξος (puxos), "box, boxwood".

Don’t ask me how but there are 9 items on the table of contents for the box article on Wikipedia. The greek origin of the word and everything! Who needed to know so much about Box?

It has everything, even a meta-self referential section for those people who talk about meta-meta-meta-fiction-non-fiction-meta-meta.

WIKIPEDIA is a free, web-based, collaborative, multilingual encyclopedia project supported by the non-profit Wikimedia Foundation. Its 17 million articles (over 3.4 million in English) have been written collaboratively by volunteers around the world, and almost all of its articles can be edited by anyone with access to the site. Wikipedia was launched in 2001 by Jimmy Wales and Larry Sanger  and has become the largest and most popular general reference work on the Internet, ranking seventh among all websites on Alexa and having 365 million readers.

Okay, I found it important to note that encyclopaedia was spelled incorrectly to my standards (US I believe, which is fine but dammit I’m Canadian! Spell it my way!)

On another note, I find that anyone who throws in a ‘meta’ seriously suddenly sounds like a prat.

1. PRAT Basically someone who’s a major idiot, or is delusional and dumb. Acts against logic and thinks he’s self-righteous. AKA: Major dumbass.
Good example: Percy from HP and from 5th book
"You stupid prat!"
2. PRAT n. English term, primarily used in United Kingdom. The literal meaning is "bottom" or "rump"; aka backside, buttocks, sacrum, tail end. This lends itself to the slang meaning of "ass," or "clueless person of arrogant stupidity." It is not always directly translatable to American slang. For example, if you used the term "prat hat" in the U.K., you would likely be laughed out of town by the locals.
I can't believe what an overbearing idiot he is. What a prat!
Strangely Wikipedia was lacking this definition. I had to make my way over to Urban So maybe Wikipedia doesn’t have something for everything?
Well that was a waste of time.

Saturday, February 12, 2011

Technological Adventures : iPods

It’s official: I am behind the times when it comes to technology. 

Sure I have a computer with Window’s 7-64 bit. BUT I do have a laptop with Windows Vista (Please try not to vomit, and for those Vista lovers out there GET WINDOWS 7!!) It works, but it’s slowly getting slower and slower every day. Technology ages and in doing so dates it’s users.

I came to my retro realization while shopping for an iPod. Yes, I am an apple consumer whore. I can’t help it. They’re so pretty, and sleek and I get supa-jealous when I see other people enjoying them like it’s sweet sweet candy that I want but can’t have!!!

But I bought an iPod. The reason for this purchase as to replace my current iPod. Because it broke? No. It’s still in perfect working condition. And I’m sorry gentlemen for this next statement but it was because of the size. It DOES count.
I have a iPod Nano, 2nd Gen. Yes it’s THAT old. But it was a gift, a wonderful glorious gift that made me squee and jump up and down for I no longer faced long walks and subway trips in silence. No, I had a marvellous and totally cool iPod Nano (2nd gen was new then) with one whole gig of space to fill.  

That’s right. For the last, I’d say, five years I’ve only ever had one gig of music on hand.
That’s it.
Like 3 playlists if they’re small...

Thursday, February 3, 2011

Today is

There is a papercut on the tip of my ring finger on my right hand. I can feel it now as I type. It looks like a teeny tiny cavern that gushes when I squeeze it. But this hurts so I don’t do it that much.

How did I acquire such a wound? I'LL TELL YOU!

Today is Thursday. Not nearly as dreadful as Wednesday but close to it. The weekend is but one day away, I am on the declining half of the week which heightens the desire for it to end.  Thursday, or at least this Thursday, feels particularly dull. I have decided (if you stalk my twitter) “today is a tired Day. I shall not be upbeat or energetic. I shall drag my heels and sigh repeatedly because I am #letired“  This of course references 'The End of the World' 
You should watch this as it will shed light on my emotions of the moment. And make you giggle. Unless you suck hardcore, then you’ll probably think ‘this shit is stupid, and poorly drawn. I hate poorly drawn free flashes’. For those people please stop reading my blog.

So it’s Thursday. A sucky one. We’ve gone over this, but I don’t think you quite understand the suck value. It’s not bad in any particular way. That, sometimes, makes it worse. Because there is nothing to induce blind scathing rage I can’t watch the time whisk away while I stomp, storm and fume about the office. I can’t wallow in self pity and sadness because nothing depressing has really happened. Nothing exciting – I might have to guilt my manager into letting me leave early today and next Thursday, but that will constitute the more ‘entertaining’ part of my day.
No this Thursday is nothing day. Until Five Whole Minutes Ago. It deserves capitals because nothing else but the day’s name is capital and goddamn I want some capitalization up in this.
I bet you have already guessed what happened five minutes ago.
That’s right.
El Papier SLICE!
My ring finger looks normal, completely fine until you glance closer and see the ‘wafer thin’ line dividing my once perfect print. It cuts my finger symmetrically from the tip for about 4 mm down right across the top of the finger. (Yes I measured. Using my blue mini ruler. Jealous much? )
It hurts. Not an inexplicable pain that drives one into a fit of rage over the state of their pain and suffering. And not a sting either. It’s a dull, ache that becomes more faint when no pressure is placed on my thumb. Nothing to get mad about. I’m actually not even that annoyed.

 It felt like the stack of papers were ripping into my hand, the sting crawling up my arm forcing a shudder from every inch of my body. I could almost hear it, in the sense that you make a squinty face from the pain and for some reason creates an imaginary audio that isn’t there but you swear when going back you must have heard. That sound. The sound of you almost cursing at the top of your lungs because it’s so fucking annoying, but then you remember you’re at the office and the ‘new’ HR manager discourages swearing and the door to her office is less than 10 feet away from your tiny cubicle, her door open wide open where  you can hear her eating freaking salad long before lunch break has even started.
That and you’re not angry anymore after five seconds. Just a little pissed. And even that goes away. Now I’m having more fun poking it and it’s proved to be at least 500 words of distraction from this nightmare of a job.

Am I happy?
No. It’s Thursday. No one’s happy on Thursday. No one’s anything on Thursday. Besides papercut and le tired.