Here are some words I wrote.

Welcome to the Lair.

noreply@blogger.com (lindsey) — Mon, 08 Mar 2010 00:46:00 +0000

Slowly, slowly I've been picking my way through the artifacts and paper-clutter that have accumulated in my life's wake. The other day I found the three-ring binder containing my notes from the basic web design instruction I took in 1996, at UHSLIS. My first lessons in HTML markup are all there in my own handwriting, tags earnestly written out for easy future reference, reminders like "Don't use tables if you can help it" and "Shrink graphix w/Photoshop - under 25K!!" And there are all these references to things like Lynx and UNIX commands and explanations of what things stand for (a href = Anchor Hypertext REFerence, if you were wondering) and, awww, it's just so cute to see it from the present day, after we've come so far. Like film footage of myself learning to walk or something. Here's the first page. If you were doing web stuff in the mid-90s, maybe you'll get what I mean.

I actually still use HTML tags with some regularity (the content management system at work requires a lot of cleaning up after), so this stuff isn't wholly obsolete. But the whole concept of writing it out by hand has gone by the wayside. If I need to check proper tag usage, I'm not going to reach for a 3-ring binder, I'm going to google the answer. I've adapted to this so thoroughly that it's mind-boggling to think of how completely outside my experience that was at the time.

Behind the seven pages of HTML notes are six pages of URLs. Yes, six handwritten notebook pages full of URLs, 98% of which are (I'm guessing) long since defunct. Because back then, kiddies, there were no websites set up to mind your links for you. And even if there had been, they would have been terribly inconvenient because there was no tabbed browsing, and the more browser windows you had open, the slower your computer ran. So if you found a website that you wanted to find again, your options were limited to a) browser bookmarks (useless if you're browsing in a lab), b) writing it down on paper, or c) e-mailing it to yourself, a strategy I adapted after that sixth page.

What's most interesting about this, to me, is that I had such a hunt-and-gather approach to the Web, like I had to discover and collect it all. I was immediately hooked on the boundless possibilities for exploration, and would think up obscure topics to research just to see what was out there. What does the Internet have about Ben Folds? Celtic folk music? Arthurian legend? At this point in internet history, it was easy to think of an exhaustible topic, i.e, you could conceivably read through all the sites known to Webcrawler/AltaVista/Yahoo on (say) Tove Jansson's Moomins in a single evening. But seeing it all wasn't enough. I had to hold on to that info, to walk away with something to show for it -- even if that was just a line of scribbled characters on a sheet of paper, a ring of keys meant to unlock doors to which I rarely if ever returned.

I'm glad I don't feel the need to do that anymore (or worse, print out all my "important" e-mails... professors actually advised us to do this! I'm happy to report that I gave up on it pretty quickly). But there was something much more active about how I interacted with the 'net back then: it was all me doing the pursuing. Now that I have various online services trained to bring me what I'm interested in, my primary mode is just keeping up, rather than going out on the hunt. In some ways, that's less satisfying.

That class I mentioned required me to create my own homepage, so the other interesting thing in that binder was a set of printouts of its code. My first homepage! I called it "Lindsey's Lair", hah. The bulk of it was a series of links to things like my online assignments, homepages of friends and classmates, and randomly relevant links (another mind-boggler: at the time it apparently seemed like a good idea to link to my credit union?). I tried to include a new quote and a new poem every week (not my own, and with utter disregard for copyright), as well as a small but cheery block of welcome text. Here's one of those, for your amusement:

Welcome to the Lair (or welcome back, as the case may be). Things have been pretty quiet around the old place lately; you'll seldom find me home, because I'm out stalking my prey of Learning and Achievement. (I like them served with Cheese.) Still, the door's unlocked and you're always welcome to wander in.

O Internet! So much has changed! Or has it?

Geek-stalgia Alert!

noreply@blogger.com (lindsey) — Wed, 03 Mar 2010 06:57:00 +0000

I recently learned of the existence of a couple of sites devoted to old PC games: Abandonia.com and DOSgamesarchive.com. Many of the titles listed on both are "abandonware" and therefore downloadable, free and legal, along with whatever copy-protection, manuals, maps, etc. accompanied the original.

[This is the part where I gesticulate excitedly while stammering.]

I can't explain the significance of this discovery without going into a little personal history. If you are not prepared to indulge me in reminiscence, feel free to move along.

My teen years revolved around PC games, from the day my mom and I got our hands on a pile of 5.25" shareware floppies in the mid '80s. Those first games were terribly disappointing. There was the one with the parrot, mostly designed to show off the amazing 16-color capabilities of the IBM PCjr. If you pressed certain keys, the parrot would shriek, "Awk!" and "Don't touch me!" in a jarring digitized voice. Then there was Donkey: you are driving a racecar down a two-lane road, bird's-eye view, no scenery. You cannot alter your speed; the road blips past one slow pixel-chunk at a time. All you can do is change lanes. Left lane, right lane. Occasionally, there is a donkey in one of the lanes. The goal is to not hit the donkey, and also, to not die of boredom.

The old Speak 'n Spell looked pretty exciting compared to these. But better stuff was out there, and it was just a matter of time (weeks, actually, if memory serves) before it would start trickling down to us.

The shareware library of the local IBM PCjr Club brought us many treasures: Snipe and 3-Demon, free clones of Space Invaders and Tetris. And of course there were the text adventures, even the simplest a dazzling improvement on those disappointing Choose Your Own Adventure books. I never solved a one of 'em, but I loved the exhilarating feeling of exploring new worlds.

But things really got exciting when Mom and Dad okayed actually spending money on games. I scoured the computer magazines and studied game reviews like I'd be tested on them. Adventure games were my passion, entered through that blocky King's Quest portal and pursued through numerous clunky titles, all the way to the pinnacle of that lost genre, The Secret of Monkey Island, and beyond. And there were delights and marvels to be found in other genres, countless gleeful hours spent playing Pirates! and Lemmings and Wing Commander.

These games were where I lived, during the endless torturous years of adolescence. Riding the bus, sitting through classes, eating dinner, I was playing them in my head, trying to work out the next puzzle, having conversations with their characters. They eased my teenage malaise, but yes, Mom and Dad, they also taught me some really useful stuff. From SimCity I gleaned rudimentary but valuable lessons in urban planning, and from Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego I learned what the World Almanac is for. Rocky's Boots taught me boolean logic more clearly and memorably than any math class ever did, which saved me a lot of grief in library school. And what I know of Caribbean geography, I owe to that Pirates! map.

But my early experience with computer games always had a flavor of scarcity to it. We had to wait for shareware to trickle down to us through people with modems, we had to wait until the prices of new commercial games dropped, and we had to wait for Mom to soup "Junior" up with yet more power and peripherals to keep up with the software. That machine got more tricked out than its creators ever imagined possible. Even so, the acquisition of a new game was often followed by howls of frustration: "Mommmm! It doesn't worrrrrrk!" ...whereupon she would, more often than not, drop everything and go poke around in DOS until the software would either behave properly, or be declared a lost cause. What with one thing and another, games were, in those days, rarely easy to come by.

And therein lies the irony. Now, thanks to the Internets, I have an endless wealth of games freely available to me, including the stuff I played way-back-when, including the stuff I wished I could play way-back-when and couldn't, including two decades' worth of shinier, newer things. And now, spending time on these things seems not like a welcome relief from a drab existence, but like a terrible waste of precious free time that could be spent on more fruitful pursuits. My adolescent self would not get this.

Seeing as how so many of my old favorites are now freely available, I have finally faced the box of "classic" games and pared it down to a few essentials. Now I have a stack of old PC games that are about to be homeless, and should theoretically run just fine with the help of an emulator. If you're geeky enough to have read this far, who knows, you might possibly be interested in what I'm getting rid of! Or... not. But I hate the idea of throwing old treasures away when there's a chance someone I know could use 'em. So if you want any of these vintage delights, just say the word and they're yours. I might even ship 'em if you ask nicely.

Pirates! Gold 3.5" floppies, DOS, in box w/manual.*
Lords of the Realm II CD, 95/DOS, in box.
The Lost Treasures of Infocom 3.5/5.25" floppies, DOS, in box with maps, guidebook, hintbook.**
(Contains Zork 1-3, Beyond Zork, Zork Zero, Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, Planetfall, Stationfall, Enchanter, Sorceror, Spellbreaker, Moonmist, Witness, Deadline, Starcross, Suspended, Suspect, Ballyhoo, Lurking Horror, and Infidel.)
Monty Python and the Quest for the Holy Grail CD, 95/DOS, in box.
Tropico CD, 95/97/2000/ME/NT4, in box.
Tropico 2: Pirate Cove CD, 98/ME/2000/XP, in box.
Ultima Collection CD, 95/98/DOS. No box, but map book/reference card.*
Grim Fandango CD, 95/98. CD case only.
The Manhole CD, Win?, CD case only.
Goblins Quest 3 (a.k.a. Goblins 3) 3.5" floppies, DOS, no case (manual & discs only).*
SimCity for Windows 3.5" floppies, Win/DOS, no case (manual & discs only).*
Tetris/Welltris/Faces-tris 3.5" floppy, DOS, no case (manual & discs only).**

* This game is available to download for free on Abandonia.com, so yeah, you probably don't need the hard copy either. Sigh.
** Some (not all) of the games in this set are available free on Abandonia.com.

Happy Year of the Tiger!

noreply@blogger.com (lindsey) — Tue, 16 Feb 2010 06:53:00 +0000

For the second year running, the Lunar New Year feels a lot more like a fresh start to me than the, uh, Solar kind. Holiday hassles are a distant memory (the one with the hearts and smooches is not much of a hassle for me), days are getting long enough to have a little elbow room in them, and this whole Way Early Spring thing we've been having in the Pacific Northwest, though it will doubtless have some negative consequences, is really just awfully pleasant.

I put on my beautiful new orange socks and went for a walk on Mt. Tabor today, where I kept running into the same batch of skateboarding teens over and over again. Round another corner, there they'd be, all scruffy and ebullient, scrambling up the hillside or yelling at each other over the rasp of their wheels. It was kind of like my walk in the park had a limited extras budget and so they had to keep using the same people over and over.

My pockets were empty, so I picked a wildflower to leave at the hidden shrine (perhaps you know about the hidden shrine at Tabor? It's appropriate to leave an offering of some sort there, though to whom you are offering is, I think, up to the giver. You can also take something, if you like). There was a baby's shoe there and some pretty stones, but it wasn't as cluttered as usual. I think someone has been tending it. Maybe everybody tends it.

On the way out I crossed paths with my neighbor, the self-designated neighborhood watchman. I quizzed him about his former career as an undertaker while he walked me home. (Apparently the economic downturn has really hit the funeral industry hard. I had no idea.) He also told me about the people who used to live in my house over the years. Seems one of those people was the self-designated neighborhood watchman, years ago; he would sit and look out my front window all day long, just keeping an eye on things. I am grateful for people like that.

In other news, I am apparently one of Blogger's Problem Children, because I insist on hosting my blog on my own webspace instead of at Blogspot, and they don't want me to do that anymore. I'm not super excited about compromising with a redirect URL, as they suggest, so I'm wondering if this is the time to make that switch to WordPress I keep thinking about (you know, so I can gripe about a different service!). I still have a lot more research to do on this, but if you have any input on the usefulness and/or limitations of WordPress, I'd love to hear it.

Been a While, Hasn't It?

noreply@blogger.com (lindsey) — Sat, 02 Jan 2010 00:16:00 +0000

Guys, I am so glad 2009 is over. I didn't really like it very much.

My issues with 2009 directly influenced my blogging (or rather, lack thereof), and I am not going into a lot of detail about those issues here. Suffice it to say that any blog posts I could've written in the last 5 months would have involved a lot of navel-gazing and complaints. Those goals I talked about at the beginning of the year, like getting rid of stuff and learning how to build things? Yeah, didn't get very far with those. I've come to dread the "how are you doing" question from folks I haven't seen in a while. I can lie (yuck), or I can be honest about how I'm not really very happy right now (no fun either). As an added bonus, I feel guilty about not being happy, because I have it so much better than many do. Woo!

This isn't fun to write about. I like to report on exciting new things! Crazy schemes that just might work! Amazing sights I saw or experiences I had! Not on how I'm just kind of stuck in my own bleah and not even really taking notice, let alone advantage, of the possibilities around me.

But, y'know, that's where I am.

So, new calendar year? I'll take it! Maybe things will be different. Or maybe not. But it feels like a change, and right now that sounds pretty good to me.

Camp Stories.

noreply@blogger.com (lindsey) — Fri, 14 Aug 2009 23:41:00 +0000

Last week I went to Camp for two weeks. Two weeks in the middle of nowhere with a hundred high schoolers. Two weeks of uncharacteristically cool weather (highs in the mid-70s) for Wisconsin. Two weeks of saying the Pledge of Allegiance in the morning and singing a capella praise songs around a campfire at night. I love Camp.

Here are some Camp Stories.

***

The day's organized recreation, we were all informed, would involve a 10' red ball, a sandy stretch of the creek about 2' deep, and a no-holds-barred cabin vs. cabin struggle to shove or fling the ball across the opposing side's boundary, ideally while dunking as many of the other team in the water as possible. It was going to be strenuous, ridiculous and probably dangerous. We were sent to change into "crickin' clothes" and then report to the field of battle.

"C'mon, guys," I urged the last two stragglers: shy, awkward girls who reminded me of myself in high school. They lagged behind me with obvious reluctance, much as I would have at their age. I raised my hands dramatically and proclaimed, "Let's get ready to BRING THE MAYHEM."

A polite pause. Then a quiet voice replied, "I don't really like mayhem."

***

There was mist settling on the road as we headed for the farthest campfire site, a mile and change from the cabins. The sky was cloudy, and dusk slid over us as we trudged into the woods, absorbed in after-dinner conversations. Then, nearing our destination, we caught a glimpse of torchlight through the trees -- not firelight from ground level, but firelight from the tops of poles. "What is that," said Gavin or somebody, and I thought of that scene in "Beauty and the Beast" when the townspeople are tromping through the woods with torches. Then we rounded a bend and couldn't see it anymore. It sat flickering in our minds, an unanswered question.

Shane stopped everyone just before the final approach to the campfire site. He said some things I couldn't really hear, from where I stood in the crowd, and then I heard him shout, "And now I give you... the Festival of Lights!" and someone nearby lit a bottle rocket or something that shot up and crackled into flame right over our heads.

Out on the bluff was not the usual tame campfire, but a sizeable bonfire, with cans full of fire on poles surrounding it: some maybe four feet high, some more like twelve. It was a lot of light and a lot of heat, which was not unwelcome on this cool evening. Still, roasting marshmallows was a challenge. I feared for my eyebrows until Whompy hit on the idea of using a piece of cardboard as a shield. Diane ignored our warnings and the smell of petroleum, and toasted her marshmallow over one of the cans-on-poles. Occasionally another bottle rocket went off from a different spot in the bushes. In the distance, thunder rumbled.

The last bit of trail onto the bluff passed through a sort of doorway of trees and shrubbery. The bluff beyond it had become a room delineated by light: inside was the brilliant fire and the s'mores fixin's; outside in the hazy dark was a truck bearing two large containers of water and paper cups. Thirsty after several marshmallows, I went to get a drink and got stuck on the path, looking back into the room of light, transfixed by the scene: silhouettes of clustered figures, laughter and squeals, fireworks; an extravagance of conflagration, framed and tinted by mist.

***

Nobody hangs out on the far edge of the creek. It's the shady side, the muddy side, the side where all the trash washes up. But I was bored. All the other staff present were absorbed in trying to retrieve a lost sandal from the depths of the chilly swimming hole with rakes, and the campers were doing campery sorts of things. I like the campers, but it doesn't seem fair to me to just descend upon their activities uninvited: Hi, I'm an authority figure and I'm hanging out with you now, aren't you glad?

So I walked slowly along the far edge of the creek, just looking. At first my eyes skimmed across the steep overgrown bank, registering only stuff, but I gradually settled into the discipline of seeing: water-weed, empty bottle, rotting branch, sapling; round leaf, pointed leaf, grassy leaf. Water strider, submerged pallet, rock, sand, mud, slime. Watch your step. What's under there? What's behind that? If you were a tiny person in a tiny boat, where would you land it? There? Over there? Mossy log, arching ferns, jewel-colored damselflies...

"Hey!" bellowed Nate, splashing toward me; apparently the sandal-hunt was over. "Hey, you huntin' fairies?"

***

Whisper. Giggle. Thump.

The girls at the far end of the cabin were up to something. Every time someone else moved, they got real quiet. Then, after a minute or two, they'd start again: Giggle. Whisper. Giggle.

What was it, 2 a.m? Should I lie there and wait for them to try to sneak out, or tell them to shut up now? Should I address the situation before or after taking a short walk up the hill to the bathhouse? My head was full of sleepy fog. I wished one of the other counselors would wake up and deal with the situation, but they didn't.

Finally my bladder won out. I sat up, found my slippers, and left the cabin, which was (for the moment) quiet. When I returned, I crawled straight back into my sleeping bag, hoping they had gone back to sleep in the interim.

No such luck. Giggle. Rustle. Whisper. Thump.

I got up and walked halfway across the wide cabin. "There's too much noise going on over here," I hissed. "You need to be quiet and go to slee - "

"Come over here! Come over here!" they whispered frantically.

I took a few steps closer, warily. "What's going on?"

"We heard a scary noise! It was the scariest noise in the world!"

Uh.... "What kind of noise?"

"We can't even imitate it! It was too scary!"

"Now that we're awake," whispered another one, "we think it was just someone sleeping. But it freaked us out, so we all jumped into Christy's bed."

"Okay," I said, reassured by the very lameness of their excuse: surely if they were planning to sneak out, they'd have a more coherent story than that. "Now get in your own beds and go back to sleep."

Much to my relief, they did.

***

A dragonfly spun itself in circles, adhered to the surface of the water. Probably weak and dying, I thought, but why not? I reached for its long tail but dropped it on the first try, startled when it curled around to grasp my fingers. A second try and it stood on my knuckles, gleaming with beads of moisture.

"What is that?" asked Saul, wading over to look. We both inspected it: it certainly didn't look weak. Wide yellow markings splotched its sturdy black body; its translucent wings were wide and unmarred, and its large eyes shimmered like a hologram. "That's a nice one," he said. As we watched, it brushed water from its mandibles, then shivered its wings delicately.

It was in no hurry to go anywhere. We both stood and watched it silently. Though my gaze was fixed on the insect, I became gradually aware of our position in the landscape: golden-brown water cascading over a low ridge, flowing past a tiny island of sand and our unmoving knees; campers sloshing slowly around us or perched on stones; a backdrop of wooded banks. We were standing so still. That's a thing that doesn't happen to me often at camp, to be so still, so focused, so present.

"I wanna see it fly," said Saul, and I directed a light stream of breath at the dragonfly, to dry it up quicker. Soon it tensed its body and, launching itself from my hand, soared off into the trees.

A Tiny Bit More Info.

noreply@blogger.com (lindsey) — Thu, 02 Jul 2009 05:04:00 +0000

RowdyKittens gives her own review of the Tiny House workshop here. I heartily second all her enthusiastic comments.

Also, this month's Small Living Journal (online and free) is titled Bureaucracy, Regulations, and Small Living. It features a series of essays addressing a persistent obstacle to small-dwelling life: local laws and codes. Worth reading if you're wondering what you can get away with. With Portland's recent passing of green building code amendments, it's probably now feasible to make a case for small => green => variance-friendly. (Well, easy for a conventional-looking middle-class white person, anyway. *squirm*)

Remember That Whole Tiny House Thing?

noreply@blogger.com (lindsey) — Wed, 01 Jul 2009 03:56:00 +0000

Well, look, here we are at the end of Jroon already. (By which I mean the month. The domain is not going to expire anytime soon.) I did my Jroon 3rd comics a long time ago, but I only just scanned them right now. Here they are. Other, more punctual comics by others can be found, as usual, here.

This is also your reminder, if you needed it, that the 3rd is coming around again soon.

So last week, while catching up with the Tiny House blogosphere (which is anything but tiny, let me tell you), I read an announcement about a tiny house building workshop right here in North Portland... taking place in just a couple of days. Ai yi yi, I almost missed it! It was with Dee Williams, who built a teeny trailer-mounted house five years ago and has lived in it ever since. Here's a great video about Dee and her house.

The workshop was Super Great. Dee and KT, a professional carpenter, taught us how to safely use a number of power tools, and over the course of a Saturday led us through framing, sealing, and insulating the floor of a little house on a trailer. It was pretty much exactly at the level of learning I needed (i.e, for those with little to no construction experience). Plus it was great to meet some folks who are fairly serious about constructing their own tiny domiciles. And by "fairly serious" I mean "pretty much for sure going to do this thing." I brought my camera to the workshop, but when I realized how vested some of the others were in documenting the process (with way better cameras than mine), I was like, aw, go for it, guys. And they didn't disappoint, either. Check out the impressive photoset collected by tiny house blogger Rowdykittens (she and her husband drove all the way from Sacramento for the workshop)!

A few words about my own plans. I still think this is a great idea, but I haven't got all the logistics worked out, and I'm not committing to anything yet. So you'll all have to be in suspense with me about whether or not I actually wind up living in an oversized dollhouse on wheels. The workshop shifted my understanding of the building process from nebulous scariness to specific kinds of scary, which, though it may not sound like much, is a significant step toward making it happen.

Dee's house is like a little chapel, airy and cedary-smelling. The narrowness of the walls makes the open ceiling seem really high. It actually has the feel, to me, of a sacred kind of place. But no plumbing, very few possessions. As much as I love it, it's not quite what I want. I really want a sink and shower in my home, and I have no desire at this time to reduce my belongings to quite that few. (It's taken me almost six months to get rid of 1/3 of the 300 books I plan to part with before the year is out.) And my lifestyle is unlikely to look quite like Dee's. I need a little more space, a little more clutter, a little more "cush." But seeing how someone else does this tiny house thing makes it easier to visualize how I might do it.

Which is, um, pretty exciting.

About Freakin' Time.

noreply@blogger.com (lindsey) — Fri, 29 May 2009 05:56:00 +0000

I finally scanned my comics!

Whew. Just in time. That other short girl is my roommate alissa, by the way.

More comics here.

The Wake.

noreply@blogger.com (lindsey) — Mon, 04 May 2009 02:59:00 +0000

[This is not the post with the comics.]

This weekend I went back to my alma mater to say goodbye. It was the final commencement before Cascade College closed its doors, fallen victim to Tough Economic Times after only 15 years of existence.

Cascade was my employer for nine years, my first post-grad-school job and the longest I've ever worked anywhere. But before that, Cascade College was the school I graduated from, striding down the aisle between tall House and taller Hill, all of us proud members of the first graduating class of our institution. And before that, it was a dream realized, the reincarnation of the well-loved but financially disastrous Columbia Christian College.

Columbia was where I lived my first year of college life. It was a magical place, and I don't mean that hyperbolically. What I mean is, things happened there that defied my understanding of how the world works. Big things, beautiful things. Oh, it was doomed even then; we were warned before we showed up to campus that the school might lose its accreditation that year. But people still came, such was the reputation of the place. I believe there were around 100 students that year, which is quite a few if you consider that the total student body never got much above 400 at the best of times.

And the people who came... well, they weren't ordinary people. Most of the staff and faculty were pretty much volunteering their time at that point, waiting on deferred paychecks that they knew might never come. The quality of instruction varied, but more than a few of the professors were remarkably gifted, and every last one of them cared deeply about the students. And the students were talented, passionate, funny, warm and radiant people who welcomed all 10 or so freshmen with open arms. It never would have occurred to me that people who were that cool would want to be my friends. But that was never in question. Insightful as these people were, they were apparently blind to the heavy cloud of social stigma that seemed to shadow my secondary school years. They didn't recognize that I was a born outcast. As far as they were concerned, I belonged.

And for me, that changed everything.

The students were why Cascade happened. They were determined that this was not the end, and their enthusiasm, commitment, and hard work fueled the process that led Oklahoma Christian University to take a gamble on a west coast campus. While I went off to a year of school in Nebraska (which had a similarly profound effect on my development, but that's another story), many of my colleagues set aside academic progress, stayed on campus, and worked to rebuild, recruit, and give life to the dream we shared. And the next fall, when I came back, O mirabilis, there were classes on my campus again, and all the employees got paid.

The story of the next fifteen years is more or less the story of any organization that begins with high ideals and pure intentions. People came and went, some of them the better for their time there, some of them not. Decisions were made that had good and bad repercussions. Cascade was many things to many people; it was even many different things to me. It was a cause to which I rallied, an experiment in the unlikely, an ongoing collision of ideals and reality, a place to grow, a place to struggle for and against, a place that meant so much to me that when it was time to leave, it took me years to see it. The one thing it was not was a failure. We all wanted that institution to grow, thrive, and bless the lives of generations. But in a decade and a half, it managed to do an awful lot of good.

I was not at Commencement, but I was there for many of the weekend's events. There were so many amazing people, so many kinds of relationships represented: my professors and my students, my classmates and colleagues, acquaintances and close friends and used-to-be close friends, and an embarrassing number of people whose names I could not for the life of me recall. The buzz of so many greetings, so many hugs and how-are-yous ran counter to the aching awareness that we were there to close a book, to put a body in the ground. Several people told me things like "It doesn't seem real" or "It hasn't hit me yet." I nodded. During the last chapel, in an auditorium packed with people singing old hymns and new in rich four-part vocal harmony, I was conscious of the distance I put between myself and what was happening, of choosing numbness over being really present and open. Sometimes I forget how good I am at this. Curious to see if the emotion was still there or had dried up completely, I eased open the tap just the tiniest bit, and spent the next several minutes feverishly trying to shut it off again. It will hit me when I let it.

There is a thing I believe about God, though it is not a thing I have found anywhere in the Bible. It is that no service done for him, no sacrifice made in his name, is wasted. It may be flawed in a thousand ways; it may be more ridiculous than useful; it may be an utter failure or even cause real harm. (I am not describing Cascade with any of this.) But I believe the gifts we offer to God are received by him in their imperfection, as we also are received by him, with infinite grace, with welcoming compassion, and with a joy beyond our capacity for it.

Nerds and Gentlenerds!

noreply@blogger.com (lindsey) — Mon, 13 Apr 2009 00:41:00 +0000

WHUT WHUT WHUUUT

Hey, this weekend is STUMPTOWN COMICS FEST. And now there's a for-reals 3 on the 3rd zine, released just in time for Stumptown! It has comics by twelve 3 on the 3rd participants. They are all really different and cool. If you have ever posted a 3 on the 3rd comic to the wiki, a copy has been set aside for you.

I love this time of year.

09a.

noreply@blogger.com (lindsey) — Wed, 01 Apr 2009 03:02:00 +0000

Now that I'm at a fixed address again, I am back in the Mixchange, the quarterly mix CD swap organized by ashley. This time around I did something new: instead of getting all theme-y, I just used what I'd been listening to lately. Like everyone else does all the time, apparently. So this is kind of a snapshot of my recent favorite discoveries, or rather, my favorite discoveries a month and a half ago, when I started this project. I listened to it again the other day while I burned discs and folded little paper envelopes to put them in, and I have to say I found it pretty listenable. So I thought you might enjoy it as well.

MIX 09a
1. tUnE-YaRdS - FIYA
I wrote this song off as merely annoying, and then I listened a couple more times and realized I was an idiot.
2. Oren Lavie - Her Morning Elegance
Thanks to Operaman for pointing me toward this gem via the awesome video.
3. Ra Ra Riot - Ghost Under Rocks
I don't know what they're singing about, but it's very exciting!
4. The Hylozoists - Smiley Smiley
Aw, I just realized I've been spelling their name wrong the whole time.
5. Jeff Hanson - This Time It Will
Mostly I love his voice.
6. Mates of State - My Only Offer
MoS do shouty-happy really, really well.
7. Styx Tiger - String Strikes
And now, a moment of chill-out.
8. M. Ward - Never Had Nobody Like You
Hokey and sweet.
9. Woven Hand - Kicking Bird
Saw this guy live earlier this year, and man, he was intense.
10. Calexico - Absent Afternoon
Music to space out to.
11. Silver Jews - Party Barge
"Send us your coordinates, I'll send a Saint Bernard."
12. The Deadly Syndrome - I Hope I Become a Ghost
Oo-oo-oo-oo....
13. Jib Kidder - Windowdipper
I'll never hear Windows sound effects the same way again.
14. My Brightest Diamond - Inside a Boy (Son Lux Remix)
Satisfyingly overdramatic.
15. Sister Suvi - The Lot
I like the interplay of the vocal parts especially.
16. Bon Iver - Blood Bank
Cold and warm at the same time, like a heated convertible on a chilly evening.
17. Esau Mwamwaya w/Radioclit - Tengazako
Can you handle one more "Paper Planes" remix? How about an African "Paper Planes" remix?

Pick a few, or collect them all. Several of these may be familiar to you if you follow my shared Google Reader posts (and you should). Links good for seven days after posting. Play at your own risk; tracks not vetted for cussin' or what-have-you, although nothing jumped out at me. All tracks provided for promotional purposes only, etc.

P.S.

Eureka!

noreply@blogger.com (lindsey) — Tue, 24 Feb 2009 04:48:00 +0000

Did you know that if you accidentally dump way too much salt into your smoked cheddar omelette,* it comes out tasting like delicious sausage?

Well, I didn't.

* Maybe you have also added some garlic powder, because you are too lazy to use real garlic, and also some rubbed sage that you're trying to use up because it's so old you can't even remember which of your former roommates left it in your cupboard. I'm not sure if those things are important or not.

Tiny Steps.

noreply@blogger.com (lindsey) — Tue, 17 Feb 2009 04:31:00 +0000

Last summer (as some of you may remember) I wrote a post gushing about tiny houses. I am still totally sold on this idea, and the New Years' resolution I didn't tell you about was to research it further: investigate options for tiny-house living, develop skills and resources to make it happen, and figure out how to prepare for the transition.

This is a progress report.

How Tiny? The fine folks at Tumbleweed have finally posted images of my favorite model: the Fencl. At 130 square feet, it is the most spacious of the trailer-based options. I have yet to actually set foot in a tiny home, but the layout of this one seems both practical and comfortable.

Where To Put It? Even though it doesn't look like something you'd take camping, a house on wheels like this one is classed as an RV pretty much anywhere in the United States. I have learned that it is illegal to live in an RV in the city of Portland (outside of a trailer park) for any significant length of time. On the one hand, this is daunting; I like to do things the legal way, and I'm certainly not interested in exiling myself from my favorite city on the planet. On the other hand, this law is enforced only when neighbors complain, which rarely happens, so it would be easy to, um, ignore it. Which I am not above doing, especially not in the case of a law that seems to be doing more harm than good at a time when housing costs are soaring out of control. But if you have previously made noises about possibly letting me rent a corner of your property, this is something you should be aware of.

(Technically, trailer parks are also an option, but one I find it hard to get excited about, for reasons that may be obvious if you've ever spent any time in a trailer park. Besides, they're expensive, and pretty much all located east of 205, which is really not where I want to be.)

To Green or Not to Green? I recently took a class via PCC about water management options. Most of what I ended up learning about, while interesting, was not at all relevant to tiny house construction. However, in the process I did get a clearer idea of what might be readily applied to a small mobile dwelling (e.g, composting toilet) and what might be a little too tricky for me (rainwater catchment, graywater reuse).

Which End of the Nail Do I Hit, Again? While reading up on women who have built their own homes, I discovered that Habitat for Humanity has a volunteer program for women called Women Build. This sounds like a great way to gain some construction experience in a supportive environment. I located the H4H area schedule (which was hard to find, and you have to sign up to view it), and I'm monitoring the RSS feed faithfully. WB events fill up fast; so far I haven't been able to get into one that fits with my schedule. But I will. If spending a Saturday building a house appeals to you too, and you possess the requisite set of ovaries, let me know and I'll give you a call when something opens up.

How Will I Fit? I have a lot of stuff. I don't think I have as much stuff as the average American woman of my age, but I definitely have more stuff than I need, and a lot more than would fit into a tiny house. Some of this stuff will be easy to let go of when the time is right: utilitarian stuff that I haven't put a lot of thought or effort into acquiring. Other stuff is going to be trickier. I'm going to need some lead time to minimize the trauma.

I have about 600 books. I also have a library card (and I work in a library), so I really don't need to own anywhere near that many. I expect to eventually whittle the collection down a lean core of around 100 volumes, but this year my goal is just to cut it in half.

That's all. Just get rid of... 300 books.

Oh boy.

A goodly number of these books will go to PaperBackSwap, and LibraryThing's Member Giveaways program, and the nice ladies I swap clothing with once a month. But lately it has occurred to me that I'd be a fool to give all of them to strangers without letting my friends have first dibs.

One thing I've noticed about letting possessions go is, it's a lot easier if you know it's going to benefit someone else. So if you're into books, have a look at the contents of my shelves and let me know if I have any titles you wish you owned. You'll actually be helping me out. Some of them I'm not ready to part with, and if you request those I'll tell you as much. (Also, if I tagged the book "borrowed" or "@wpc" or "family treasure," I can't give it to you.) But others I'll be only too happy to place in your hands. Or mail to your hands, if necessary.

Being an Account of Recent Events.

noreply@blogger.com (lindsey) — Wed, 04 Feb 2009 07:39:00 +0000

Hourly Comics Day was a success, but you are going to have to wait a couple more days before you get to see the output. (You can go read some other people's in the meantime if that helps.) To avoid taxing you with undue suspense, I will reveal that the surprise guests mentioned here were my old sidekick Mitch and my young sister Ashley. Mayhem ensued. The weekend had a nice symmetry to it, with the three of us hanging out for three days, all three together, and getting one-on-one time with each of the other two, and also all three parting ways to hang out with other people for oh, three hours, give or take. There was tasty food, plenty of dancing, parties of varying types, quite a few YouTube videos, multiple thrift store shopping sprees, and more hilarity than I can adequately describe. My Hourly Comics don't really capture it. Mitch's do a better job, but they're hard to interpret if you weren't there. I'm sure Ashley's would have if she had done any.

I did not do Three on the Third today.

On the technology front, I'm pleased to report that Asus has agreed to send me a hard drive and let me ship the old one back to them, rather than have me send back the whole dang netbook. Despite the hard drive problem, I'm pretty satisfied with the machine. The major design flaw, as far as I'm concerned, is the placement of the touchpad; it's too easy to bump with your right hand as you type, and then your cursor ends up in the wrong place. This weekend, as other people consistently ran into the same problem, I realized that I've adapted by holding my right hand differently, possibly non-ergonomically. Hmm. Well, the next model will be better, and I can put up with this little quirk until then.

Who knows? Maybe, after my system is back to whatever the new normal is, I'll blog about something besides my computer and comics.

gripe gripe whine whine complain

noreply@blogger.com (lindsey) — Fri, 30 Jan 2009 04:53:00 +0000

Alas, I have spent a goodly portion of my precious free time these last couple weeks troubleshooting my computer (trying to fix the OS, installing a new version of the OS, trying to fix the new OS) before whittling it down to a hard drive issue. I have not dealt with many hard drive failures in my day (knock wood), which may have affected my slowness in figuring out the problem. Also, Linux has some really powerful diagnostic tools that give elaborate results that I have no clue how to interpret. But the experts at the Ubuntu-Eee boards have spoken: send it back to Asus and get it fixed. (I am so not used to having that option.)

So that's why, even though I drew my January 3 on the 3rd comics (admittedly a couple weeks late), I still have not posted them. Or blogged, or commented on your blog, or shared Google Reader posts. I have been over here in the corner, gnashing my teeth and feeling sorry for myself.

In related news, February 3rd is on the horizon. While gazing toward its noble silhouette, you may have overlooked February 1st, which is Hourly Comic Day. On Hourly Comic Day, everybody draws one (1) autobiographical comic for every hour they're awake. This inspires some really streamlined comicking; the veterans tend to whittle it down to a couple of frames with minimal dialogue, and make the most of mundanity. But still, I won't kid you: it's a lot of work. It really puts the whole 3 on the 3rd challenge into perspective.

Which is why I'm doing the Hourly Comic thing again this year. It's on a Sunday, so there will be no comics-on-the-sly at work. There will be some churchgoin' and some special out-of-town guests visitin', and some other things that will be a surprise to me too!

If you think I'm crazy for doing this, get a load of John Campbell, who does Hourly Comics all January long, as he has for years. Other people try this, but they mostly do not succeed. Here is my favorite attempt.

(I read a lot of John's hourlies before I figured out that his girlfriend (cleverly aliased as "Kate") is Kate Beaton who draws history comics! It makes me inexplicably happy to discover that one of my favorite obscure comic artists is dating another of my favorite obscure comic artists, even if they do live in different countries. Here are a couple portraits Kate did of the two of them last year. The second one is especially lovely.)

I think I accumulated a few more things to blog about over the course of this month, but I can't remember them anymore, so I'll just belatedly wish you a happy Year of the Ox and sign off.

2008 in Books.

noreply@blogger.com (lindsey) — Sat, 03 Jan 2009 01:14:00 +0000

As promised, here is a list of what I read last year. This time the re-reads are asterisked. Ratings are equally subjective, but I guess they're a little different for books. Hmm, maybe something like this:

(1) - It was an utter waste of time.
(2) - I can't in good conscience describe it as a "good book."
(3) - It was fun and/or useful to read.
(4) - It delighted and/or educated me.
(5) - It crawled inside my head and moved things around, or burrowed inside my heart and made a little nest there.

What I Read in 2008

Traveling Mercies: Some Thoughts on Faith by Anne Lamott (5)
Lamott always challenges me: to dare to hope, grieve, trust, live harder, laugh louder, and be recklessly honest.

Kindred by Octavia Butler (5)
What would antebellum slavery look like firsthand to an African-American woman from the 1970s? A beautiful and painful book.

Living More with Less by Doris Janzen Longacre (3)
A Mennonite compilation of ideas about how to make the world better in small, practical ways. Not as good as I was hoping.

Water: Tales of Elemental Spirits by Peter Dickinson & Robin McKinley (4)
Fun fantasy fiction. McKinley's stories are more accessible, Dickinson's more challenging, both plenty entertaining.

The Djinn in the Nightingale's Eye: Five Fairy Stories by A.S. Byatt (3.5)
Fairy tales by a modern author. Worth it for the fifth story alone, in which the djinn finally gets some love.

Moomin: The Complete Tove Jansson Comic Strip vol. 2 (5)
I grew up re-reading Jansson's kid lit, but the comic strips are new to me, and I think they're pretty much the best thing since sliced fjords.

Moomin: The Complete Tove Jansson Comic Strip vol. 1 (5) *
Had to reread after getting my hands on the second volume. Gorgeous, humbly brilliant, further adventures of old friends who haven't changed a bit.

Sorcerers & Secretaries vol. 1 by Amy Kim Ganter (4) *
Shamelessly mushy Ameri-manga. Shy business school student is distracted from secret fantasy fiction project by... a flirtatious boy!

Sorcerers & Secretaries vol. 2 by Amy Kim Ganter (3.5)
Not as good as the first one, but still cute.

Woman: An Intimate Geography by Natalie Angier (4)
A remarkably readable exploration of the science, history, and anthropology of the female body.

Titus Groan by Mervyn Peake (2.5)
First in the Gormenghast trilogy, and the wrong book to take to Hawaii with me. Really slow and wordy, and I didn't like the characters much.

Put Your Life on a Diet: Lessons Learned from Living in 140 Square Feet by Gregory Johnson (3)
Practical thoughts on simplifying your lifestyle: why and how. Not a lot new here.

Radical Simplicity: Creating an Authentic Life by Dan Price (4)
Entertainingly illustrated journal by a guy who's obsessed with living in tipis, tents, and hobbit-holes.

Fugitives and Refugees: A Walk in Portland, Oregon by Chuck Palahniuk (4)
Made me want to explore my city more, and ask more questions. And document everything in a gossipy, sensationalistic tone.

Stranger Things Happen by Kelly Link (3.5)
Link is so weird. So weird. Sometimes in a really, really good way, and sometimes just in a weird way. Loved the one about the Snow Queen.

Archer's Goon by Diana Wynne Jones (3)
Good goofy kid-fantasy fun. Well-done and (for me at least) forgettable.

Fight Club by Chuck Palahniuk (2)
Ugh. I am so not the target audience for this.

Heartland: Short Stories from North-Western Wales (3)
The ones translated from the Welsh just didn't work for me. Cultural storytelling conventions are apparently way different here.

Pirateology by Dugald A. Steer (2)
Again, I am really not the target audience. A special-effects book with text apparently designed to be ignored.

Destiny: A Chronicle of Deaths Foretold by Alisa Kwitney (3.5)
Graphic novel. Decent Sandman spinoff about Pestilence, as in the rider of the apocalypse.

Perfect Example by John Porcellino (2.5)
Graphic novel. If Chris Ware says a book makes him happy, you know it's gonna be a downer.

The Dance of Anger: A Woman's Guide to Changing the Patterns of Intimate Relationships by Harriet Lerner (4)
Not actually about anger so much as asserting yourself responsibly. Some good lessons here.

Action Philosophers! vol. 1, by Fred Van Lente & Ryan Dunlavey (3)
Graphic novel. Cute, wacky, irreverent, and educational!

The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, vol. 1, by Allan Moore (3) *
Graphic novel. I enjoyed it a little less on this second reading, but it's still Moore, which means it's still top-notch storytelling.

The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, vol. 2, by Allan Moore (3)
Of course, that also means parts of the story are going to be hard to stomach, and he saved most of those for v. 2. Eww.

And that's it, kids. I know, you'd think a librarian would average more than two books a month, but this is actually about on par for the last several years. I would like to have read more than 25 books by the end of 2009 (already got one under my belt: Gaiman's The Graveyard Book, short and sweet). But that's not a resolution, just sort of a vague inclination.

A Resolution, and a List.

noreply@blogger.com (lindsey) — Fri, 02 Jan 2009 04:16:00 +0000

The weather looks suspiciously similar to yesterday's, but I have it on good authority that this is an All New Year. That's kind of an exciting thought, isn't it?

Traditionally this is a time when people blog about their resolutions. I think resolutions are kind of like birthday candle wishes: the more you talk about them, the less likely they are to come true. However, there is one resolution I would like to make public. In just two days, I am going to return to the stoic discipline of Three on the Third.

Yes.

Another bloggy tradition for this time of year is end-of-the-year lists. I have actually compiled two of them for your amusement and mine, one for all the movies I watched in 2008, and one for all the books I read. I have also rated them in a completely subjective manner. Here is my rating system:

(1) - I hated it.
(2) - I'm not sure if I liked it.
(3) - I definitely liked it.
(4) - I loved it.
(5) - I'm sort of obsessed with it.

What I Watched in 2008
(italicized titles indicate movies I've seen before)
The Truth About Cats and Dogs (1996) (2)
The Water Horse (2007) (2)
Darjeeling Limited (2007) (4)
Across the Universe (2007) (3)
Paprika (2006) (3)
The Other Boleyn Girl (2008) (3)
Charlie Wilson's War (2007) (3)
Horton Hears a Who (2008) (2)
In Bruges (2008) (3)
Juno (2007) (4)
I'm Reed Fish (2007) (2)
Hellboy (2004) (4)
Indiana Jones and the Crystal Skull (2008) (3)
Once (2007) (3)
Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World (5)
3:10 to Yuma (2007) (4)
Sex in the City (2008) (1)
Dan in Real Life (2007) (3)
Super Troopers (2001) (3)
27 Dresses (2008) (3)
Fool's Gold (2008) (2)
Hellboy II: The Golden Army (2008) (4)
War (2007) (2)
The Simpsons Movie (2007) (3)
Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid (1969) (3)
How to Lose Friends and Alienate People (2008) (2)
The Fall (2008) (4)
Sweeney Todd (2007) (3)
Wu Ji (The Promise) (2005) (3)
Shi Mian Mai Fu (House of Flying Daggers) (4)
Cutthroat Island (1995) (2)
Whale Rider (5)
Nick & Norah's Infinite Playlist (3)
Ravenous (4)

The above list accurately indicates that I'm a sucker for pretty pictures. Check in tomorrow for the somewhat underwhelming list of books I read in the past 365 days, which I have padded with annotations to disguise its shortness.

Party Alert: IMMINENT!

noreply@blogger.com (lindsey) — Sun, 28 Dec 2008 03:13:00 +0000

Now I am back (thanks to Amtrak and Tri-Met) and this thing is totally on.

Merry Christmess!

noreply@blogger.com (lindsey) — Fri, 26 Dec 2008 07:02:00 +0000

Christmas with my family is always an experiment in barely controlled chaos, what with four generations, the oldest of which can't hear anything and the youngest of which you can't hear anything over. There are a thousand possible pitfalls, gifts that may be triumphant or disastrous, offenses that may be unintentionally given, and treasured objects that may be destroyed when you put 4 children, 9 adults, and a dog together into a small space with a tree and a giant pile of presents and a CD of Christmas carols sung by a German boys' choir.

Yet somehow, with everybody pulling together (and with Mom, as usual, doing more than her share), it all worked gloriously. It always does, more or less, but this year was one of the better ones. We have spent a lot of time congratulating ourselves on this today, rehashing all the highlights and awkward moments while snacking on delicious food. And we have played games, taken naps, watched various things on various screens, and hugged each other.

And now we have used it all up, every last bit. There is no Christmas left.

Party Alert: Elevated.

noreply@blogger.com (lindsey) — Tue, 23 Dec 2008 21:22:00 +0000

[Written the 23rd in Portland but, due to Blogger balkiness, posted the 25th from Eugene]

Due to the Unusual Quantities of Solid Precipitation around these parts, I have been increasingly uneasy about the trip south to Familytown, originally scheduled for December 24. It's only a two-hour trip, and I'm told the latter half of it has no snow at all, but the first half -- especially the getting-out-of-Snowyville part -- well, I wasn't sure how that was going to work. It was just going to have to all melt today, was all.

It doesn't look like that's going to happen. No, my Christmas Miracle has taken another form, the form of a gleaming white snow-beast with high strength and agility stats, and also some magical powers. Yes, the Mighty Thor is taking me back to my hometown for Christmas, which is even better than hitching a ride in Santa's sleigh! No, really, look:

ADVANTAGES OF RIDING WITH THOR
- enclosed cab
- heater
- upholstered seats
- nice stereo system
- two hours of conversation with two good friends
- direct route, no stopping at every house along the way
- arrive early in the day instead of in the middle of the night

ADVANTAGES OF RIDING WITH SANTA
- reindeer-powered flight
- bragging rights
- ...

See? Really, the only down side to this is that I don't know exactly how I'm getting back to Portland. At this point it looks like I'll be able to hitch a ride back north with somebody else, and bus/train possibilities are also an option, at least until they sell out. But if this "snow" madness continues, well, who knows.

So the real reason for this post is to alert you, well in advance, that there is a faint possibility I may have to reschedule the party on Sunday. I really think I'll make it back in time, but if by chance I don't, you might not think to check my blog in the (possibly minimal) amount of time that I'd be able to give notice. So keep it on your calendar, but stay tuned for further updates.

Okay, This is a Tricky One.

noreply@blogger.com (lindsey) — Mon, 22 Dec 2008 05:33:00 +0000

What has two thumbs and...

...has another snow day off from work tomorrow?

...finished getting the living room ready for party guests today?

...turned the chairs toward the front window for more convenient watching of passers-by on skis, snowshoes, snowmobiles and snowboards?

...is looking forward to the end of the cold snap and the return to regularly scheduled rain, especially if that happens in time to get to Mom and Dad's for Christmas?

You got it. This girl.

Tracking.

noreply@blogger.com (lindsey) — Fri, 19 Dec 2008 06:13:00 +0000

To the pedestrian wearing large boots who, while passing northward on my street, paused late this afternoon to leave me a message, I offer the following reply: (o_O)

Of Winter Weather and Penguins.

noreply@blogger.com (lindsey) — Thu, 18 Dec 2008 04:25:00 +0000

You know how people from places with Real WinterTM tsk-tsk about how just the slightest amount of snowy/icy weather sets Portlandia on her bronze arse because she doesn't have the road-clearing equipment in place to deal with it?

I suspect she's doing it on purpose. Because sometimes it's not an entirely bad thing to have everything just -stop- for a day or two.

Sunday I broke out the heavy-duty winter gear (which, incidentally, was mostly also my watch gear on the Chieftain) and took the bus downtown and back. The wind was face-bitey cold. I growled at it as I waited and waited and waited for the delayed buses.

Monday I got the morning off, and then when nobody showed up to use the library and the furnace went all feeble, I also took half the afternoon off.

Tuesday was a full workday for me, but today was a false-alarm snow day. Storm warnings gave me the day off, but the weather warmed up this afternoon and melted a lot of this week's snowfall.

Needless to say, I'm feeling pretty spoiled. It's been one of those pajamas-all-day days, I have food in my fridge and a fully operational furnace (with insulated ducts!), most of my gift shopping is done, and there's plenty indoors to amuse me. Unpacking boxes of stuff from storage serves the triple purposes of entertainment, practicality, and reminding me of how thoroughly all my needs are met. Now I am sitting by my mouse-proofed heater vent, listening to StG Sean's Best Songs of 2008 on the Eee and drinking belly-warming ginger tea.

I wanted to follow up on that post where I said I hadn't used the Linux command line yet. Well, I have now. I'm a little deeper into the OS at this point, though not much; I've run up against some problems, and figured out how to fix most of them. So I can give you a more detailed review.

Linux, even Ubuntu Linux, is still not for everybody. If you're not interested in rolling up your sleeves and figuring some things out for yourself, your experience with it right now would be that it's kinda like having a PC, but without the nice software. You'd be keenly aware of the disadvantages, but completely oblivious to the advantages.

Someday in the not-too-distant future, Linux will be for everybody. Right now, however, it is very much for me. There are a number of things about it that still don't work the way I want them to, but when I muster up the discontent to fix something, by golly it gets fixed, and I learn a ton in the process. Finding answers in the uncharted maze of internet message boards, for someone in my ignorant state, requires dogged determination and internet-searching savvy. But the truth is out there. I find a kind of fierce joy in the hunt, and deep satisfaction when I've succeeded.

This is not much of a sales pitch for most of my readers, I know. Most people would rather interact with their operating system in much the same way I prefer to interact with my car: most of the time it works just fine, and on the rare occasion that it doesn't, I take it to some nice guys who know all about it and they make it work again. It's just that my early experience with computers was analogous to the kid who grows up tinkering with cars.

For me, the huge advantage of an open-source operating system running open-source software is that this car is continually being reinvented in better and better ways, by people who do it just because they love to invent and fix things. It's collaborative, not controlled by a commercial interest, so it's more chaotic but also richer. And while you may be on your own for the labor, the parts are free.

I still haven't explained the appeal very well. Maybe that's because it's bedtime now, or maybe it's because it's less about practicality and more about attitude, which is harder to translate into rational arguments. I recently saw a spoof of the "I'm a Mac/I'm a PC" commercials with a perky female "I'm-a-Linux" added to the original duo. I won't link to it here because she didn't present any kind of compelling argument for Linux, objectively or subjectively (she was actually pretty annoying). If I were filming this kind of spoof, the Mac/PC guys would be joined by a big ol' emperor penguin, which would waddle up and just stand next to them and make penguiny noises, and they would look confused and slightly alarmed.

Any Excuse Will Do.

noreply@blogger.com (lindsey) — Sun, 14 Dec 2008 19:37:00 +0000

I know, I know. It's not news anymore that I'm back in Portland to stay. But it's not such old news that we can't use it as an excuse for Fun Times. Therefore:

This is your invitation to the Lindsey's-Back-In-Town Party!

When: Sunday, December 28, 1:30 to 9:00 p.m. Come when you like, leave when you're ready.
Where: My house. If you don't know where my house is, e-mail me. If you don't know what my e-mail is, leave a comment with yours.

SEE how barren my place is without the Chainsaw Famile (who recently moved into a house of their very own) !
MARVEL at the amazing midget computer !
MINGLE with other cool friends of mine !
GIVE me a deadline for getting my stuff out of cardboard boxes !

Here are some (optional) things you can bring to enhance the party fun:
- Tasty food or beverages to share.
- Your friends and relatives.
- A board or card game you've been wanting to play (sorry, no Risk).
- Unwanted women's clothing of any size. There will be a swap pile, and leftovers will be passed on to women in need.

Don't RSVP, just show up. See you ~~there~~ here!

Information = Love.

noreply@blogger.com (lindsey) — Sat, 06 Dec 2008 07:10:00 +0000

I haven't yet made the effort to locate a Linux driver for my scanner. So no comics tonight. However, I did discover some things on the internet that are currently blowing my mind, and I thought you might want to know about them:

1. Google Reader's shared items function. Are you using Google Reader? If so, did you know about this, how you can annotate blog posts you find worth passing on and make them available for friends to view? Because I have recently discovered that this is incredibly cool, and I'm surprised that only 4 of my friends have seen fit to share what they're reading with me.

2. Kiva.org, which works like this: you make a small loan (as little as $25) to a struggling third-world entrepreneur. S/he uses it to invest in, say, pigs for a farm, or supplies for a store, and then pays it back to you within a specified period. Then you can choose to either take your money back, or loan it to somebody else. The system is really well thought out and has a great track record. I don't know many people who can spare $25 right now, but when you have enough to share, here is a way to do it that is both worthwhile and fun.

3. Esau Mwamwaya's reinvention of the Vampire Weekend song "Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa", which I found here, and which might be the most purely joyful thing I experienced this whole craptastic week. The song is not for sale anywhere, so download it quickly before it goes away!