How my daughter solved my time issues.

She said, "Just get up three hours earlier, then you'll have the time to do all that."
 Uh, no. Then I would find something to put in that slot. I'm pretty certain.

 What is the answer? Give something up? How do I choose what to give up? 
 Coin toss? Pro and Con list?  


My daughter is one to talk about fitting it all in. I have never heard her say NO, to any activity. Except maybe homework...
 Look at me, taking advice from a tween. Sigh.


 SO, until I figure it out, I'll be blogging here at AGT and over at OOT- talking about shopping and deals and new stuff you want but don't need. 
 And over here at You Won't Go Blind, which sometimes sounds like You won't go blond to me.. which makes me giggle.


Also, you can find me behind the curtain at SCRATCH. ( for all you writers and poet peeps) and for the readers out there- come on by Smashwords and downloads some words.


 Of course, we must be connected on Facebook and Twitter, right? I mean, you are real, aren't you, Internet?

I want to talk about procrastination... in a minute.

Once upon a time, in a land far far away...
 I was always the first one to arrive, with my printed out directions dated a week in advance, my calendar neatly organized, my list checked off, my shoes tied.
I used to be teased for  being so overly prepared for the event happening two months away- a problem, in that I tended to go overboard at the last minute, thinking surely I must have forgotten something.
I said YES to multiple activities, because, I never slept and there was time for everything.
To put things off meant having to do them later - at an inconvenient time- so, I didn't put anything off. 
The bills were paid early. The hamper never got full. The dishwasher was empty, the pantry stocked. I never ran out of gas in my car. My kids turned in projects early, never missed a day of school. I planned and executed trips, appointments, shopping sprees like an Army General. I added more to the plate, offered my services, gave up personal time and space. I was the Queen of Productivity with a clean and organized house to prove it. Look in my closet! See my clean car! I am wearing makeup AND matching underwear! My summer plans are done and it's only March! My checkbook is balanced mid-month! I wrote a novel! I started a business! I worked out every day this week! I joined another club! I read three books and the NY Times! 


I am tired.


So, what happened to the fairy tale?


It wasn't  some dramatic life changing event. it wasn't some mental fugue, or a lost spouse, or even kids. I did all that raising them, and now that they are old enough to help with the chores, I really have no excuse.


I'm blaming it on technology. On the speed of Today. On Facebook and Twitter. On emails that can find me- everywhere.
On texts and better cell phone service.
I'm blaming it on those successful, beautiful women in the world who made me feel like I too could be SuperWoman!


Did I take on too much? Am I trying too hard? Do I need all that stuff? Who really cares?
And the most important question, Why do I feel guilty if I am not productive from 5AM-8PM daily?
  
 And yes, I am procrastinating right now. I should be finishing a chapter in the work in progress- adding another few pages, another couple of hundred words....


To be honest? really honest?
 If facebook had not suspended my account this morning for posting a link to SCRATCH on a literary page  site, I might be perusing the photographs of  strangers which would lead to an hour of  googling the train service in Russia and the availability of  hotels in Prague. 


And that, my friends, is how procrastination starts for me.


How does it start for you? Where does it end? And how much do you think it really matters?

In a status message world, there's a fine line between pithy and concise.

Sentences come to me in the middle of the night. Perfect opening lines find me in the shower.
A string of words that I imagine will become the well loved and much quoted words of the perfect ending to The Great American Novel pop into my head as I drive to the gym.
I can't turn it off. I don't want to turn it off.
But lately, I find the inner voice is distracted, slightly disembodied. The single sentence shudders to a halt. The string of words doesn't have a wrap to the unwritten beginning.
My brain is writing status messages.
I have been mentally hijacked by technology.

In a single day, 140 character twitters tell the world that I had my coffee and am omw to the gym. Two sentences on Facebook let over 300 friends know that I did all my errands with a pencil sticking out of my ponytail because I spent the morning editing. On Yahoo Instant Messenger, my contacts see I am drinking wine and listening to Poe. A Myspace frowny face tells people even before they read my snippet, that I can't be bothered by pettiness.

What's the solution?
To visit these places less? To stop writing status messages? To refine the reasons I started any of these internet social pages to begin with?

I know that the blog is useful when it jump starts a writing day.
Facebook helps me connect with other writers and feel the camaraderie.
Twitter might be good if you're at an event that others can't attend...but frankly,
Myspace has become an eyesore and a place I rarely visit.
(Though I keep one to check on my kids.)

Here's where the pithy and concise parts collide.
I had an idea when I first started blogging in 2005, that I would follow my path to publication. I had a novel and I was querying agents and marketing myself to the world. I had a plan.
And it worked.
I published a fair share of short stories, essay and articles, won some awards, met lots of folks and just recently landed an agent.
It's all good.

But I wasn't writing with focus. I was just writing- about trips and family and friends and parties and shopping and shoes. Oh yes, shoes. And authors and books and kids and dogs and life. Each post starting with a single word that opened up an idea, a self commentary that may have been a phone call if I didn't despise the phone. It might have been a conversation with a friend over coffee, if I had friends that I could meet over coffee. They became pithy blog posts that might have been called diary entries if this was 1982.

Maybe that is exactly what was supposed to happen. Maybe that's what these social outlets have become- a combination of journaling for those of us who need to be heard - and some that don't- Lord, do not get me started on the stream of consciousness bloggers... I can see the benefit of re-connecting with our past by finding old friends and classmates, even hunting for jobs. Of course for some, these social pages are a further connection to their future as they seek friends, romance, or just a cyber-connection virtual date.

There is no wrong or right way to use social networks, just the way that works for you. (though if your boss, your kid or your Grandma is one of your connections you probably need to watch your content more).
A writer friend said that if blogging takes away your urge to write the "real stuff" you need to stop, or at least place limits, and if you are spending more time on Facebook playing games and poking around people's friends lists, than finishing your wordcount for the day, you really need to unplug your modem.

Unplug. That is about as concise as it gets.

Living a Dimmer Life

I have this thing about lighting.
I think it is the most important piece of ambiance one can master. Think of the moods set by bright sunshine, by soft candlelight, by the foggy gloom of a rainy day...

I used to be into the whole candle thing, but wax drippings and the black smoke marks and all the fire hazards... well, now I leave the candlelit moments up to long baths, outdoor lanterns and special dinner celebrations.

Now, I create my candlelit atmosphere with dimmer switches on every possible lamp in my house. I have been known to unscrew bulbs in people's chandeliers hanging over a card table so the people across from me look softer, so I don't have to squint, so I can feel more at ease.

I have even given dimmer switch installation sets as house warming gifts.

So, yesterday when I went out to buy some replacement bulbs I was surprised to see my regular fix had changed.
No longer are we offered traditional incandescent bulbs of 40 watt, 60 watt 75 watt or 100 watt bulbs.
Now, it's wattage like this: 34/52/67/90

or for the really dim... 200 watts.

How odd is that?
Even saying it sounds stupid. "I need a 67 watt bulb, please."
And if you're shopping at WalMart, like I was, you might want to learn how to say it in Spanish.

I know, the whole incandescent bulb thing is going the way of the cost effective, yet ugly fluorescent bulbs which make everything look worse and have a high pitched whine to them that bothers me and the neighborhood dogs.
sigh
what's a girl to do--- besides stockpile all the old fashioned bulbs she can find?
Bulbs she will one day sell on E- Bay.

Just when you thought you were technically caught up...

Here is the full article at the New York Times about Vook TV - a ebook platform that combines text, video and social networking. You can only sign up for the beta release at the site here . I am definitely in! You can also follow @vooktv on Twitter for the latest. the future of the book is here now!

When TWITTERING gets creepy- WITH UPDATE

I saw this twitter today and it totally creeped me out.

I know how some people are joking on there, and how some are looking for attention and how some are marketing themselves.. and how some of us use it to connect with friends.
But that whole cry out touched me, and I wonder if there is something there and how would you help and how would you know.. I mean are there Twitter police? A Twitter Emergency squad?

Someone who will arrive at your designated Twitter-fied GPS location to pull the knife out of your hand, the pills from your mouth, the nasty screw-you email from your send finger? Would they rush you fresh coffee when yours ran low? Take your kids to school when you overslept? Take care of the abusing spouse in a way only abusing spouses can be taken care of?

Or am I making the whole thing more twitterific than it really is?

Oh, and yes. I do. Frequently.

UPDATE:
THAT POST WAS REAL! And I blogged about it first.
Check it out here.

What's the secret password? And "unfriending."

So, because I friend EVERYONE on Facebook, I was faced with the new problem of "unfriending" someone, actually a few someones... but I wanted to be sure they didn't know. Repercussions and all that. So, in googling for an answer to my, "Will someone know if I unfriend them on FACEBOOK question," I found a whole page of people asking for help in stealing passwords.
Yes. Stealing.
Passwords for email accounts, for Facebook and Myspace, for instant messenger accounts. I don't know why I was surprised, I'm sure people hack into accounts all the time, but it seemed so creepy. And the funny thing was people were replying to other's requests and giving relationship advice, like, " Have you tried therapy, asshole?" to "Just trust him, man." And, "You should be asking her about this, not trying to read her mail."

I couldn't help thinking movie plots... girl meets boy, girl and boy connect, girl and boy marry, boy meets up with old frineds on facebook, neglects to check the married box and starts up internet love affair, girl suspects and wants to hack account to prove herself right, girl falls for hacker who exposes cheating boy...

Or something like that.
But it's probably already been done.

And also, you CAN buy software that does effectively hack passwords and keystrokes, and site visits... I won't tell you where. I'm just sayin'.

At any rate, I unfriended and ungrouped and uncluttered my FB, but I was still thinking about the password thing, how I use lots of different ones for all my accounts, how I have to write them down, because I am afraid if I use the password keeper on the computer, I will forget the password to open IT, and then, I will be screwed.
When I forget a password and if I can't find where I wrote it, I have to set it all up again, which in this day requires a security question. Most of them are stupid and I lie.

"What street did you grow up on?"
I say MAIN STREET, because even if I get Alzheimer's, I will know MAIN STREET.

As I was thinking about all of this a friend told me how she had forgotten a password she thought she'd never have to re-use and was mortified when she had to call in to retrieve it, and the security question the guy was required to ask her was, "To whom did you lose your virginity?"
We laughed, but I think she was a little offended when I asked her if she knew the answer.

Because I can't avoid talking politics anymore- see what America has to say, Twitter style

Confused about American Vice Presidents, and politics in general?

So am I.
Last night, I went to bed with a Michael Connelly book while the debate rambled on in the other room.
Because I think it just doesn't make a difference what I think or even how I will vote.

The electoral college is the formal body, created by the Constitution (Article 2, Section 1), that elects the President of the United States. Each state has as many electors in the electoral college as it has senators and representatives in Congress. When citizens participate in a Presidential election, they are actually voting for electors pledged to vote for their candidate.

The choices have already been made and they all suck.
Before you blast me, understand I am the first to say, I am the most politically dumb person in the world. So, for the sake of my citizenship, I did a little research.

This morning, I read about previous VP's. Most of them I've never heard of.
Alben W. Barkley
Henry A. Wallace
Charles Curtis
Charles G. Dawes
George Dallas

some of them I remember for their multiple faux pas, not their politics and I felt even more like a strung along citizen, like: Nixon, Agnew, Quayle, Cheney.

All were listed by TIME MAGAZINE as worst Veeps, among others. ( see article here.)

I learned some more.
Listen to this:
In the United States the Vice-President has few formal duties, and the importance of the position relies almost solely on the fact that the holder takes over the Presidency if the incumbent dies, retires, or is impeached; they are ‘a heartbeat away from the presidency’. The Vice-President presides over the Senate, and votes in the case of ties. Presidents have tried to give the Vice-President roles in specific areas of policy, as roving ambassadors, or as heads of ad hoc agencies to deal with domestic issues.

Vice-Presidents are often chosen, not for the qualities they would bring to the administration, but in order to present a ‘balanced ticket’ at the election, broadening the appeal of the presidential campaign. The balance may be geographical—a Southern President choosing a Northern Vice-President—ideological—a conservative being paired with a liberal—or another consideration (e.g. religion, government experience, gender, ethnicity)

okay. now I get Palin and Biden.
Plus, what I read about the electoral college and the way votes are cast which made Cheney move out of Texas, finding a "folksy" gal from far away Alaska makes sense.
(more here about VP job requirements)
Also, know this:
The VP is not automatically President if the President dies or is impeached in office... there is always a back-up plan. The American version of political CYA.
So, if the old white guy dies or someone shoots the green black guy... we may not have ditsy mom or dumb grandpa as president. whew.

I have to say, I was never one of those people who thought the election of a single person or persons would turn a nation around. There are way too many cooks in the White House kitchen for that. Case in point. Bush's recent economic bail-out attempt. See, he's the President of the US of A and it didn't mean squat. Someone wrote the speech he read to us, someone designed the financial plan and proposed it to another group of someones and he and we had nothing to say about any of it.
aside: I love that commercial where the firemen take over the senate and solve all the problems in minutes- on walkie talkies, if only it really worked like that. Imagine what could get done.

So, you ask...All that reading, and what did I learn?
That I still want to retire abroad.
That going to bed with Connelly was a good idea and
that yes, this year's presidential election is just like the one that happens at my daughter's elementary school every year for Student Council officers.
No matter who runs, how many friends they have, how good their speech and poster is or how much crap they hand out, the kid whose mom works at the school, donates her time or runs the PTA always wins.

And yet, every year they can, I encourage my kids to run for office, to try to make change happen, to rock that mother fucking boat.

Toilet Training for Men

The easy-close toilet seat... quieter than a whisper. Never fall in the bowl again.

You're welcome.

i-touch myself

Counting down the hours until I can buy back the software updates I lost in the hard drive crash. Odd how you get used to having certain applications at your fingertips. I want my notepad back!
The new free web apps look fun, from games to productivity helpers, like a check splitter... something I can definitely use. I indulged in one app download that is purely fun.
Apple better be ready for all the downloads at 11 AM.
And geez, next time post an announcement for all of use January software upgrades that have questions. Thank God for Yahoo Answers.

Now, back to packing.

My new toy. Yes, ANOTHER one.

Learning new things is good, right? Having new toys is better.