Recently in Writing Category

I thought this was funny. "Invite Google Calendar to chat"

It's nice to see that Gmail wants Google Calendar (not Gcalendar?) to be her friend. And for some reason I feel like Gmail is a girl (Google Calendar has no gender affect on me).

I wonder what would happen if I invited Calendar to a chat?

me: Hey Calendar, how are things?

Calendar: You have a dentist appointment 1 day ago.

me: Ignore.

Calendar: That's it then. You're all caught up.

me: Seriously?

Calendar: Sorry. There's nothing happening right now. Have you checked out Google reader for news?

me: Yah, but I wanted to talk to you. I miss you. You're like the friend I never had.

Calendar: I've got nothing for you.

me: Not even an early reminder for a Friday meeting?
me: Calendar?

Calendar: ;) Sorry, I was talking to Labs. Did you know it's in Gmail now?

me: Yah, superstar, snake games, muzzle... I heard. Are you getting any Lab features?
me: Calendar?
me: CALENDAR!

Calendar: Hey, twitter is back up. Did you see WWDC? Jobs killed! Sweet man.

me: But what about me? Don't you want to talk to me?
me: Calendar!

Calendar: I know, Froogle was a crazy idea, just like checkout.
Calendar: Oops, sorry, that wasn't for you. brb, talking to YouTube for second.

me: Wait! Come on!
me: Fine, I'll schedule an appointment with myself.
me: Calendar? Can I schedule an appointment please?

Calendar has set their status to busy. You might be interrupting

me: I know you're not busy.
me: Stop ignoring me.

Calendar: Ha ha, Cali Lewis is so funny. And Mahalo! Man, I should have thought of that. Who cares, I'll just buy them. You should check out their latest posts.

me: Calendar! Me, focus on me!

Calendar: What? Oh, right.
Calendar: Listen, I told you. I've got nothing for you.

me: Really?
me: Am I that boring?
me: Come on?
me: Is there nothing else? At least tell me about the upcoming holidays. Something. Public Calendars somewhere? Feed me Calendar!
me: Calendar?
me: Calendar!

Calendar has left the chat

me: dammit.

It's a humble opinion, but true nonetheless. And given how easily I tend to slide into the rant, let it be said this isn't a beef, but an observation.

For all it's purported goodness and love. For all the talk and hope of the playing field being leveled. For everything that the internet is supposed to be and supposed to offer, really, all it's done is turn the world into one gigantic high school.

Hear me out.

Okay, maybe I'm the unpopular kid that nobody recognizes no matter how many classes they have with him. Or maybe I'm just the transfer student that nobody has had the chance to meet yet. Regardless, for all the billion dollar buyouts and social celebrities, when the digital dust settles and the typographic tumbleweed rolls on through, on the internet, what we're left with is a typical, cliched high school with all the good, the bad and the nasty.

Let me illustrate.

I'm finding a road
that runs through my head
I'm thinking out loud
while I'm lying in bed
I'm drawing a line
between this thing and that
I'm wearing a coat
and a lumber jack hat

I'm rambling on
So I'm singing this song
I'm happiest knowing
that my friends are all wrong
It's raining in spain
I'm feeling you pain
I've marked all the cards
but I'm losing again

Oh, it's kind of crazy
Just how lazy I can be
Oh, if it's just a game
then it's a shame that I am me

It's later than ever
It's now and it's never
I wish I was smart
but I'd settle for clever
I'm still in my bed
and you're still in my head
and I'm thinking to hard
about all that you said

Oh, it's kind of crazy
Just how lazy I can be
Oh, if it's just a game
then it's a shame that I am me

I recently attended the mesh conference in toronto (and meshU).  I tend to take non-linear notes, not so much as a way to revisit the words, but as a way to keep my mind focused on the lecture or panel discussion and to make myself feel a little more apart of the conversation.

Anyway, I posted my notes up to flickr and I just noticed Michael O'Connor Clarke used them in a recent blog post.

To add my feedback to the quote in controversy ("The Customer is not that Smart" by Dave Jones). I don't think it's something you want to tell your customers to their face (or behind their backs), but as it relates to what they hired you to do, it's probably true, or they wouldn't have hired you to do it. It also doesn't mean that they're dumb.

Thanks Michael.

i can see the stars
i can see the moon
i can see the sky
i can see the clouds
i can see a passing airplane
i can see a bird
i can see a tree
from my prison cell

We need more content creators.

There are too many content reviewers... To many internet observers... too many apologists and evangelists...To many tweets twittering the latest and feeds feeding ravenous on their own selfish and anything but subtle self analytics.

We need content creators of diversity and vision and uniqueness.... risking the critical eyes of the observers in their millisecond glance and off-handed dismissals. Dancing a dirge in the mist of the vociferous fangs of the technorati and their buzzfeeds.

At least that's what I need.

"Dave!", she screamed from across the crowded bookstore.

I hate it when she talks so loud in public places. It makes me feel so... noticed. I hate feeling like that guy everyone looks at. I hate interrupting coffee shop conversations with a loud voice or a terse scream. She knows this. She senses my discomfort. She presses her lips together, waiting for a response. I close my book and begin to walk towards her, nodding to the young employee who has been raptured by my wife's screams.

"Dave!", she screams again. "Fucking hell, would you please come here".

My ears are burning. I'm aware of every single nerve ending in my body. My walk feels awkward. I'm trying to assimilate the fact that she both swore at me and said please at the same time. Please do not yell again. I want to be home, alone in my misery. "I'm coming", I said from across 2 aisles. I'm in self-help; she's looking for books for the kids. It's the second time in 3 months we've been out together without children. I'm sad. I miss having friends. I miss being friendly.

I'm finally next to her.

"Did you have to yell?", I ask. She is annoyed and looking for a fight. I should have backed off. I didn't mean to accuse her. Just feeling so insecure in this place.

"Did you have to ignore me the first 4 times I called?", she says. She's not looking at me. I'm looking at her ears. I used to kiss those ears. I miss those ears. I miss the way they felt when I first touched them. She's so bored with me. She's so impatient with me. She doesn't want me anymore. She won't admit it, she wants her idea of me. But I'm just me.

I'm just me.