To My Dearest Sister on this most Auspicious Occasion:

This day marks the temporary Passing of the Pile. For generations, siblings have passed on their gently used vehicles to their next youngest of kin as it becomes less and less appealing to potential mates. Eventually this “well-loved” vehicle lands in the hands of the youngest in a state that only induces feelings of pity from dates and friends who have the privilege of riding in it. Some sociologists attribute this behavior to a certain ‘Modern Darwinism’.

Our Beloved Camry was built when our brother was first laying his foot upon an accelerator; permanently cementing the concept of driving was as a terrifying twinkle in my twelve year old eye. Now it is in your hands; you, who only knew the concept of “car” as the large machine that makes mommy and daddy yell at other large machines when it was conceived.

As with all well-loved vehicles, this particular pile comes with a few peccadilloes—ahem. Features, yes features.

1. Rust. Yes the undercarriage contains a bit of rust. This is a reminder not only of the interminable property of time, but also of the wonders of the air we breathe. Ferrous Oxide, the breath of metal. Isn’t it magical?

2. The Minimalist’s Door Handle. The state of this handle is, of course, not due to laziness on my part for not getting it fixed, but a tribute to frugality and adaptation. It also serves as a reminder that sometimes strangers are indeed strange, as I found out when the mechanic in Geneseo declared that his “dipshit son broke [my] door handle… c’mere porkchop!” (‘porkchop’ being his most affectionate nickname for his impish granddaughter).

3. The Dented Rear End. Sometimes we are not the most distracted person on the road. Sometimes that person is *behind* you. In all seriousness, this is why you should never crank your wheel while waiting in traffic for space to turn. Related to this is another feature:

4. The Midsummer Smell of a Spilled Soy Latté. Yes, I could have shampooed the carpet after that accident. Many people would’ve. But though my back pain subsided, this smell persists. Why? It is a reminder of human frailty and the crappiness of Caribou’s soymilk.

5. The Ripped-Out Speaker. Music has a transcendental property which occasionally alters our mood, renders us nostalgic, pensive, perhaps even transporting us to a different time and/or place. Imagine how much that property would be amplified if the music surrounded you. This lack of a drivers-side door speaker is clearly a safety feature.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not trying to cover a deer turd in a thin candy shell (though I hear this is a delicacy served at most used car dealerships). I most definitely vacuumed the entire vehicle before handing you the key, even though this sent perhaps one of the Midwest’s most extensive collections of soil samples into the trash can.

Be good to her, and by “good” I mean better than the absolutely horrendous treatment given to her by your elder siblings. She may be a crapwagon, but by God, she’s our crapwagon.

With love,

Your Sister.

PS: Seriously though, I’ll be back for it next week.

(note: this was first posted to my Tumblr, where I realized that 500-word letters are best dealt with in Wordpress– oops!)

on death and all of that

Don’t get me wrong, I’m still absolutely terrified, but the thing is that I’m starting to get it. I know a number of people who are dying right now of cancer. I’ve also had a number of friends in the past who have died of accidents or overdoses. The cancer is harder though. It’s hard to face someone who’s dying. Watch them look worse and worse. We like to deny death, it’s hard to look at it take over people we know and love. Sometimes we wonder if it’s an omen for our own life. Grief is so largely personal. So much about our own fear. I have a lot to learn about talking with people who are nearing death, and not dodge the issue when they talk. I think my relationship with God has helped a lot so far.

I just know there’s something after life. Something greater than ourselves. To deny that and leave our existence to chance is the highest display of hubris. I also know that life has to be lived in the most dynamic way possible so that when it’s our time, we can reflect on how much we have done and declare that we are ready for the next level. Until that point, we have to fight for life, treasure what we have. To not do that would be to disrespect all people as well as God.

I’m building a website for a friend who is deep in that fight for her life right now. She has extremely extensive cancer. Her legs keep giving out and she’s all swollen but when she writes, she has the most extraordinary sense of humor and is so full of life. It’s absolutely amazing. In the face of this all kinds of bills are coming that she can’t cover because her insurance is terrible and attributes everything to preexisting conditions. Anyway, hopefully a Chipin will be up soon and friends’ll rise up and throw in. I’ll link up here when it’s ready.

Tech writing what what?

Hey guys hey guys! Little known fact: I went to school for technical communication. You know, like writing manuals and web content and all that biznass. True story. Did it for a while in conjunction with dev.

At any rate, I got to dust off my not so rusty (after all, I communicate about technical stuff every day) skills to write some web copy for a startup the other day. SO. So. I thought maybe. Maybe I could write about it here for whatever audience that stumbles upon this entirely unfocused collection of ill constructed paragraphs.

STEPS TO CLARITY (aka what I think about before putting fingers to keyboard in writing startup copy)

1. Figure out what you do. Whether it’s easy, like Drupal dev for nonprofits, or more obscure, like myriad js based services development, sit down and come up with a one-sentence definition. CAREFUL: showing this definition to non-technical users will probably cause glazed-over looks and slight drooling.
2. What are you good for? Really. What the heck are you good for. In totally simple terms. Give some examples, list it all out. While you’re at it, list what you aren’t good for. Finding the space where you operate off the bat saves you and your customers the pain of figuring it out as you go.
3. Who is your audience? What level of experience are they coming at you with? Are you pitching to major corporations, in which you’ll have several levels of bureaucracy and knowledge? What kind of buzzwords are they stuck on? Here’s where you need to research the trends of your target consumer.
4. Pull it all together. Rewrite your first line, the definition of services, in terms of what you are offering, and who you’re offering it to. This is where you develop some diagrams, lists, whatever to make your purpose easy to access. Try to boil it down initially to one or two sentences, but if that sacrifices clarity for the sake of conciseness, don’t do it. If you end up with a full paragraph, break out the bullets. The idea is to put on a different pair of glasses when approaching your content. The glasses of your typical consumer.

If you can’t do this, you might want to hire a middle person like a technical communicator lest interaction with customers become difficult. Also, it can be very tough to be as close to your product as a developer or engineer is without losing objectivity that enables you to communicate non-technically.

¡¡BODA!!

Estoy haciendo un investigación sobre bodas en España. Mi novio y yo queremos casar en Barcelona. Esto no es un anuncio sobre nuestro compromiso (mamá!), solo es un investigación sobre si es possible. Si tienes sugerencias, recomendaciónes, comentarios, etc. ¡¡dígame por favor!!! :)

It warms the cockles of my heart

that our President renewed his commitment to net neutrality and openness of information in his speech about appointing an information security czar a couple days ago. So. Nice.

I believe Obama is one of the only people on this earth that can say “Web 2.0″ and not sound like a total fake smarmy internet marketer.

Google Wave

Wheee!! I’m uber excited about this. Checking out developer api biznass and what what

OH! you can see more here: http://wave.google.com/help/wave/about.html

hiding in the kitchen

So I actually wrote this post back on June 12, when the whole Iowa flooding began and it sat in unpublished land until I remembered it today.

Something about hurricanes, earthquakes, tornadoes and floods makes me want to take up knitting. Oh and baking. Not to mention get hitched, have a couple kids, stay at home and have my hubby protect me. It’s not like I carry around a copy of “the second sex” with me, but I do fancy myself an independent, strong-willed, albeit lipstick-and-heels sort of feminist.

In that light, my response to these natural disasters has shocked me. I’ve second guessed my most important dreams and have considered getting a move on with the whole family starting thing. It’s preposterous, ridiculous, absurd, maybe scary? Ultimately that’s what it came to. I am scared. Mortified even. This fear has started the old Stepford gene a’firin and God knows how long it will be until I start showing up at your door with a freshly baked pie, chiding you for not taking good enough care of your husband (it’s a wife’s primary responsibility, you know).

After the 9/11 attacks, the whole country seemed to go through the same thing. I was so angry when it happened. Suddenly all the TV shows were about marriage and having babies. All our fabulous, empowered Lilith-fair types were gone, traded in for pregnant celebs and plastic surgery shows. Skirts replaced pantsuits and frills made their way back into fashion. We were losing ground. My friends wanted to be trophy wives. I thought everyone had gone nuts.

But now, sitting here, contemplating whether to pack up my valuables and clear out the fridge in case the power gets cut, I get it. I understand the urge to find a man who will protect and support you entirely. A man who will shelter me from all of these disasters. If I take no risks, I won’t get hurt, right? But that’s simply untrue. Earthquakes, hurricanes, floods, tornadoes; these things don’t discriminate based on socioeconomic status. That’s why I have to use this fear and power forward in hopes of making everyone a little stronger, a little more prepared, a little more likely to survive.

Although, I’m not gonna lie, it would be pretty sweet to not have to worry about the whole “money” or “job” thing.  Anyone know any cute surgeons?  Web 2.0 millionaires?  I swear I’ll only use the extra time and cash towards forming our own nonprofit!  Especially if it’s based someplace warm…

Who to call when you have a funky disease…

Dear developmental psychology prof,

Thanks! You remember the other day when you were lecturing on ADD? You said something like this:

The best emergency room doctor you can have if you’ve got a weird problem is one with ADD.

You went on to talk about how an ADD ER doctor works best under high pressure and extraordinary situations where a lot of creativity and exploration into the issue is required. You also said that otherwise an ADD doctor would probably not be ideal.

So yeah, prof– I have ADD. Not in the whole “man I’m so scatterbrained today” kind of way. More like the whole “man that chick is smart but half the time she’s an idiot” sort of way. Or “I just spent 2 hours looking for my wallet that is in the freezer and am subsequently a half hour late for work ” sort of way.

But it’s also the “holy crap that was brilliant where did that come from” and “man that was fast! How’d she solve that ridiculously difficult problem in such a short time frame?” sort of way.

So yeah. Thanks for reminding me of the upshot. Here’s to hoping you and yours encounter an ADD doc when coming down with the new bubonic plague. Of course, you guys would probably come out fine, but my kind would most likely forget their facemasks.

-me