Nerd Love, Day 6: Adirondack Lily and the Stealth Nerd

Make no mistake: my friend, Lily, is as gorgeous as they come. And I'm not just talking inner beauty; I mean angel face, non-stop bod, the whole ball o' wax.

And yet...

Lily is a nerd. Not an honorary nerd, either: a full-on, piano-playin', pie-bakin', own-clothes-makin', Feynman-readin' N-E-R-D.

The nerds, they are everywhere, you see. That whole tape-on-the-glasses-bridge thing? Dunzo. Lily has a bitchin' pair of high-end ironic nerd glasses, but she can go deep-normie-cover in contact lenses and Hollywood actress drag. You can't tell the nerds from the civilians anymore, friends. Such is the beauty of the nerd camo that has been embraced by the hipster-ati. Who's a nerd? Who's just playing one on TV?

I'm certainly not telling. My ability to make a living depends largely on keeping people guessing.

But here's a clue: check what's in their homes. Check their homes, period. It's a good bet you'll find weirdly obsessive streaks: excessive clutches of stringed instruments, five shelves of South American poetry, too much software, too much hardware, too much, too many, too too too-doo.

How to discern between nerds and their de trop and ordinary Ammurricans and theirs? Nerd-i-mi-bilia is not available on QVC. Nerds are not trend-meisters or herd members; even in their obsessive overconsumption they flit about the fringe. They are gamers, but crazy-smart; they score off the charts in standardized tests but play in jug bands.

Nerds defy classification. This is why previous eras with their rigid strata were a little hard on nerds, and why we are all breathing a bit easier now. Never before in history has it been so sweet to be a nerd.

Even a nerd in deep cover, with fedora and six-shooter, knee-deep in snow and particleboard cabin construction, in the middle of an Adirondack winter...

xxx c

Nerd Love, Day 5: Score one for the Nerds

Nerds with a secret are like little kids before Christmas: they cannot, CANNOT, I tell you, wait for the big day.

The big day, in this case, was supposed to be closer to baseball season. Or at least post-Stupid Bowl. But I could not, COULD NOT, I tell you, wait one more second. Because I finally got my old pal, Tim Souers, the genius I blogged about a year and a half ago, to start a blog.

True, there are only a few actual "posts" up there. But he's uploaded two seasons to the image galleries, two seasons, people!!! Hours and hours of chewy, arty goodness.

Of course, the beauty part is, not only have I given this outstanding gift to the world (via, well, you know, Tim's time, talent and effort), but Tim is cool! He is a Cool Person!!! Who has started a blog!!! Which means...

I actually converted someone to the Nerd Side!!!

Bwahahahaha!

I will get you all, my pretties...

xxx c

Nerd Love, Day 4: I'll show you mine if you show me yours

I've alluded before to Best Year Yet on this here bloggy, but for those of you who missed class and/or are too f**king lazy to click the links or Google it, Best Year Yet is a values-based goal-setting system which I discovered via Heidi Miller's podcast long ago, and which could just as rightly be called "The Nerdiest Goal-Setting System Yet" except that it'd be redundant.

My friend, Kathy (zen-shiatsu mistress supreme) and I spent four, count 'em, four, hours today going over our plans. We'd both done all of our (nerd) homework and I've been implementing mine since the second week of January, but Kathy's a single mom and, as I understand it, time bends in funny ways when you're situated thusly.

Anyway, I buffed out the scratches in my Best Year Yet plan and, because one of the things that tripped me up the first time I tried doing it was a lack of concrete examples of workable plans, I decided to make mine public.

Via Backpack. Because that's how I roll, baby.

Feel free to check it out (link here), and contact me with any questions or comments. You can do it via email or the comments section of this post. I'd like to keep the process as transparent as possible, to help the most people; so if you email me, I may use your question to work up an FAQ somewhere here on the site, but if I do, I promise to keep your identity a total, double-secret-probation-level secret, should you so desire.

Bottom line: if you're already doing BYY, I encourage you to post somewhere and share a link. If you're not, consider doing something similar with your goals and post a link.

Accountability ain't everything, but it helps.

Later, nerds...

xxx c

SEE THE COMMUNICATRIX'S BEST YEAR YET 2007 PLAN HERE

UPDATE: I got an email from my pal, Neil, asking why the monthly and weekly goals were missing. They're not: they just get a little too personal, so they're not displayed for public consumption. But rest assured, I have them and am doing them. And it's working!!!

Image by occipital lobe via Flickr, used under a Creative Commons license

Nerd Love, Day 3: Nerd Accessories

Quick,

What's nerdier than an olive-green hard shell pencil case from 1973 with...

• a granny decal
• two day-glo yellow stickers with your name in "mod" type
• an "Easy Rider"-esque knockoff sticker in the center

...surrounded by:

• fake pearls from Forever 21
• a coaster that actually says "Love Like You'll Never Get Hurt"
• an Entertainment 07 coupon book you bought from a fellow nerdmaster
• a picture of you and The BF at an elective Nerdmasters function in which you were inducted as VP of Membership
• one of no less than 15 affinity program cards
• which is made out under your company's name
• which you decided, in your infinite nerdy wisdom, should be "BeanEyes Communications"

?????????

Answer:

An olive-green hard shell pencil case from 1973 that is still operational.

xxx c

Nerd Love, Day 2: The magnet hack

Step One: Make desk out of file cabinets and door.

Step Two: Apply magnets to back of everything.

Step Three: Party on, nerd!

xxx c

Nerd Love: A 21-Day Saluteâ„¢, Day 01

Dorks. Geeks. "Losers." Misfit toys.

Yesterday's post got me thinking: of all the people in the world, I love nerds the most. Nerds make lists. Nerds believe in science, not fairy tales, or when they believe in fairy tales, it's because they make them up themselves. Funny ones, not weird ones. Because while nerds are, in the main, incredibly weird, they are also creative and have a goddamn sense of humor.

No, I don't love all nerds. And yes, nerds can be incredibly annoying. I, myself, am often unbelievably annoying, ask anyone. Especially people who know me well.

But I can love something about almost any nerd, and I'll put up with their tics and quirks, their OCD and Robert's Rules of Order. Because without nerds, there would be no art, refrigeration, poetry, electricity, music, software, hardware, decent food, kickass design or funny movies that are actually funny, not to mention a whole bunch of stuff that people who tend to dislike or fear nerds use a lot, like churches, AM radio and the U.S. interstate highway system.

Bottom line: true nerds, Good nerds, if you will, don't think the world revolves around them. They have a healthy curiosity about the world around them, are always looking for new, cool, interesting stuff, and are continually improving themselves, whether they call it that or not. Nerds are helpful and additive, looking to make the world a better, more inclusive place (as opposed the world many of them, us, grew up in). Nerds don't leech off the system, step on people to get somewhere else, have grandiose notions of themselves or tell other people where to get off.

They can't: they're nerds.

Of course, there are plenty of people who are doing stuff that emulates self-improvement or invention or being helpful, but they are not real nerds. They are just sad. They are losers without the quotation marks. You can usually spot them by their lack of irony, and they're best given a wide berth. Talking to them is, sadly, a waste of breath. Wastes your time and annoys the pig, if you catch my drift.

So to offset the horror of the upcoming "holiday" (and boy, how much do I love putting THAT in quotes?!!), a 21-day buffer of lists and hacks, tips and tools, silliness and creativity.

An homage to nerdery. As if that's not what this whole, damned blog is already.

Let the dorkiness begin...

xxx
c

Image by word freak via Flickr, used under a Creative Commons license.

What have you done for me lately?: a communicatrix wish list

While I've never come up with a formal mission statement for communicatrix-dot-com, that would make me a total tool, I have established some informal guidelines, which basically come down to two things:

1. Give me the opportunity to write, unfettered, for public consumption

2. Help me help you

Okay. I'm a tool, I'm a tool. But it's true, my dream in relating my silly lists and stories and whatnot is that, in addition to achieving great renown (or notoriety, its tatty stepsibling) I can spare someone, somewhere, some portion of the agony I rained on myself by behaving like the World's Biggest Asshole for 40+ years.

But sometime over the holidays, in the thick of creating my nerdy lists, I realized I wasn't fully utilizing the wonderfulness that is web 2.0 if I wasn't also asking for help when I needed it. I mean, sure, I've queried Lifehacker and I belong to kernspiracy and I even paid the five bucks to MetaFilter but really, I'm lazy. Or in some cases, immensely frustrated after days/months/years of fruitless searching. I want to post a bunch of crap on my own damned blog and have people just find it and say, "Oh, hey, dumbass, that's easy, and here's how...!"

I think ultimately, I'll put up some kind of permanent Request Page. Or, hey, maybe someone can point me towards some great, web-based program that does this already. But there's stuff I need help with right now. Some of it I could probably suss out with enough time on Google and suchlike, but much of it I'm sure is readily answerable by an actual human RIGHT NOW!!! And that's when I want it: right now, in the comments, via email, or even the phone, if applicable.

COLLEEN'S WISH LIST OF STUFF, SERVICES, INFORMATION, & OTHER SUNDRY ITEMS

1. A list of fantabulous movies to rent based on my own lists (here and here, for starters). Especially nice would be descriptors such as "great on a rainy Saturday when hungover" or "only good when you are feeling especially "up" or "provides nourishing laughter to the severely ill", etc.
2. For those rare public appearances and visits with the Queen, a bra that actually fits a AA-cup, is not covered in doilies or filled with compensatory gack (believe it or not, Foundation Fairies, some of us are down with the tiny and just need nip coverage from time to time), and costs less than $85.
3. An SCD-compliant recipe that approximates chocolate fudge
4. Houston's recipes for brussel sprouts and acorn squash.
5. A map/list/page of L.A. streets with street cleaning schedule so I know when I'm going to have to add 20 minutes for parking.
6. A hotkey combo to change file names in Apple's finder w/o accidentally launching the #$&@*($& files every time. Thanks to Robert 'Groby' Blum, who got me on the right OPTION + RETURN path
7. WordPress code for nested subdirectories along with pasting instructions to tide me over until I overhaul my template.
8. Another artist like Lemon Jelly, and don't say Mr. Scruff, because I know about him.
9. While we're at it, how about more playlists along the likes of this outstanding one created by the magnificent David Gagne
10. More programmers like Michael who want to work with me since I can apparently generate enough work for three programmers
11. Especially ones into PHP and creating WordPress templates
12. A superhero-style data-storage device that syncs with my Mac (like my Palm), is not read-only (like an iPod), has a good voice recorder (like, um, my tape recorder), and won't give me a heart attack if when I drop it from four feet off the ground.
13. A reasonably priced, 4–6 week vacation rental (anytime from April - September) or apartment swap (all months but July - September, no one wants to live in my place in the summer) somewhere on the Central Coast of California.
14. A purse that is plain but stylish, capacious but not clunky, dark-as-night brown but not black, vinyl not leather (too heavy), has interior pockets and a lining that is red, pink, orange, green, turquoise or pretty much any color except black in the $25 - 85 range.
15. A free or cheeeep Steelcase-type table, about 62" x 36"(i.e., like this, but without the fruity color or insanely high price for an item the government was probably dumping in landfills pre-eBay/mid-Century design craze.)
16. An accountant who works with budding entrepreneurs, has his/her shit together, knows enough about corporate structure and investing to point clients in the right direction and "speaks creative"
17. An online resource for dining that filters for people on the Specific Carbohydrate Diet
18. A source for nice scented candles at a reasonable price.
19. A great cutter for "difficult" hair who charges less than $80 for a cut here in L.A.
20. Some input from my fine readers on what you like about this site, what you don't so much and what other things, topics, features, blog doodads, you'd find helpful.

That's it for now.

And as my way of giving back, any of you looking for a sure-fire way to make money, come up with a steady supply of #13 and you can probably retire young and wealthy...

xxx c

Image by Robin Green Eye via Flickr, used under a Creative Commons license

French fries at the O.K. Corral: or, Telling Monkey-brain to go f*ck itself

Back in September of 1987, I met my friend, Karen Engler, for dinner in Lincoln Park. I asked her what was new and she entertained me with amusing anecdotes of her crazy job du jour.

She then asked me what was new; I said, "I quit smoking."

"Really!?! When??!"

I checked my watch. "6:30," I said.

She laughed and shrugged it off. I'd been smoking since before I met her, way back in my freshman year of high school, when I was just 14 years old. A nincompoop semi-authority figure furnished the contraband, Benson & Hedges Menthol 100s, which I smoked until I got hip to menthol's ghetto/pussy status, finally ending up where most hard-core smokers do: sucking down 2+ packs of Marlboros (both leaded and "light" flavors) per day, bought by the carton. Which was good, believe it or not, that was down from close to 4 packs/day.

There was no getting around it: everything about me identified with "smoker." My entire non-childhood persona, not to mention routine, was built around it.

But as I got ready to light that smoke at 6:25 pm, something flashed through me, or, more accurately, snapped. Partly, it was the very real projection of another seasonal bout of bronchitis. Partly, it was weariness, maintaining any habit so assiduously is exhausting. And just like that, I knew I was done. I don't know why or how exactly, only that me and cigarettes, we were over. I stepped on the trash can pedal, let go of the pack and that, my friends, was that.

Not that quitting was easy; to the contrary, every minute of every hour, every hour of every day, for the first three weeks was excruciating. I'd never experienced anything like it and hope I never will. (That goes for the flatulence, too, folks. No one ever talks about the extreme gastrointestinal upset that accompanies quitting when you're a heavy smoker. All I can say is keep matches handy. Lots and lots of matches.) And the first three months was pretty rough. And the next three years? No picnic, to be sure. But while quitting wasn't easy, it was simple, and it was clear.

Fast forward 19 years. Still a non-smoker, now a diet-cheater.

Here's me, shoving an entire slice of pizza down my gullet between Ocean and Lincoln. Here's me, burning through a roll of Rolos, a box of Smarties, a bag of Raisinets one by one (I'm a piece candy woman, not a bar candy one) like a chocoholic chipmunk getting herself squared away for winter. This is not the Me who used Will o' Iron to leave her hometown, her marriage, her career, her misery for Parts Unknown; this is crap. I hate crap.

What exactly is going on here!?!

It struck me in a flash: I hadn't a clue. It was time to get one. So I busted out a fresh notebook and made myself a list and a deal: write down the desired infraction and exactly what is going on in that brain of yours when you want to make it, then wait 15 minutes; if you still want it, knock yourself out.

I wrote the first retroactively, from memory, which was still pretty fresh. And I'd outlined the rationalization in detail for my pal, heathervescent, at breakfast that morning, anyway:

• "Toast @ breakfast"

• "I deserve it."
• "It's all I'm going to have 'bad' today."

Next, the current desire, fresh and fierce:

• want to order pizza

• "nothing in house" (...except stew)
• stressed!!! (jobs, underbid)
• I deserve it

Finally, I sat it out. 15 minutes, that was the deal. Only an odd thing happened as the minutes ticked away. Monkey-brain continued to want pizza; Big Colleen brain breathed a sigh of relief to find out it was only Monkey-brain, got up and started preparing some semi-convenience food she remembered Monkey-brain had bought at the store (Tasty Bites Eggplant whatever, along with homemade red lentil dal and cucumber raita.)

At this point, you are, if you're like me, wondering a few things. Since you are not me, and I had time to both ask the questions and answer them, I'll close the loop for you.

QUESTION #1: Wow. She had all that shit in the house?

Answer: Yes, I had all that shit in the house. Apparently, Monkey-brain only registered sad frozen reminder of bad stew experiment.

Lesson: in its relentless pursuit of food crack, Monkey-brain is nothing if not fierce.

QUESTION #2: Wow. She considers making homemade red lentil dal and cucumber raita convenient?

ANSWER: Yes. After two hard-core years of cooking every single thing but cheese from scratch, yes, I do.

Lesson: change takes a long time, until it happens all at once.

QUESTION #3: Wow. She thinks this one-off incident is somehow worthy of her longest and most weirdly formatted post in months?

ANSWER: Yes. Abso-fucking-lutely, for reasons which will soon become apparent.

Lesson: The Communicatrix knows more than you, and don't you forget it.

I'm laying it on the line, in black and white, or slightly gray and white, or whatever my CSS is dictating and your end-user device is capturing as you read this: the "snap" happened. I'm off the illegals*.

I suspected it two days ago but knew it for sure last night, when the lovely server at the Marriott Marina del Rey served me my breadless club sandwich with fully a half-plate of the most beautifully golden, sinfully fragrant, mouth-burning-hot-from-the-fryer specimens of thin-cut fries I've seen ever, EVER, and they sat, untouched, until our club treasurer showed up a half-hour later and (mercifully) polished off the pile in five minutes flat.

Me + a plate of hot, untouched fries = dunzo.

Next up, total global domination...

xxx c

Image by keso via Flickr, used under a Creative Commons license.

*Note to any SCD-prospectives out there: this does not mean I'm on SCD. I'm not yet ready to give up my beloved Americano, a rather liberal interpretation of weak coffee which Elaine Gottschall would likely have taken issue with, and I'm not, for the time being, going to worry about rogue illegals, the 2% floaters that creep into virtually every food served in American restaurants, even the so-called "legal" foods. If you are just starting, do not follow my example, do SCD full-out, 100%, like it says in the book. No f*cking around, kids, especially if you're doing any of that lovely bleeding out of your rectum or spending time around doctors anxious to sketch out the new one they're going to build you. I'm well, I'm almost fat, I'm on meds and I've been stable for a long time.

The root of rye toast lust

It's no secret that I've fallen off the SCD wagon, big-time. It started with espresso, the gateway illegal, over two years ago. Espresso, and a spoonful of some shameless hussy of a dessert by Suzanne Goin, who should have a mug shot up in the P.O., as far as I'm concerned.

The bad news: once you transgress at all, you are no longer an SCD-er. Any transgression, no matter how small, puts you back at Day One just as surely as a sip of Bookers kicks you to the back of the bus at Alcoholics Anonymous. There's no judging; it's just that in the absence of better researched reasons for why it does and doesn't work, SCD requires fanatical adherence to the canon of foods handed down from Dr. Haas and Elaine Gottschall. There are no sanctioned cheats. Not a one. Period.

And so.

Yesterday, at the colorist's, I appalled even myself. Of course, I was only publicly, officially appalled after my good friend, L.A. Jan (we share everything) clocked me shoving two, count 'em, two Butterfinger-type crap candy singles into my mouth Augustus Gloop-style. (I'm reasonably sure I at least took the wrappers off.) When she replaced her eyeballs in their respective sockets, she asked me what the f*ck was going on.

I mean, I'm not even especially fond of Butterfingers.

I'm still sorting it out, but I think the kernel of understanding lodged somewhere in the back molar of my consciousness looks something like "You are not the boss of me!" Or, as I put it to my pal, Heathervescent, between bites of generously buttered, 100% forbidden rye toast at breakfast this morning, "F*CK YOU, MOTHERF**KER! You are not the boss of me!"

So many years of sucking it up, coloring within the lines, being a good girl, stuffing it down. So much rage. So much fear. It's going to find voice one way or t'other. And "F*ck you, motherf**ker! You are not the boss of me!" is pretty eloquent, if you ask me.

I have a sense of perspective, of course: I'm not perched above the quad in a clock tower with a rifle, or bankrupting the kids' college fund at the river casino's ATM, or even skulking behind the Rite Aid with a Marlboro Red. But I hate having something other than me owning me, so I need to get to the bottom of it.

Step One is noting it.

Step Two is noting it and not giving in.

To Butterfinger singles yesterday.

Or rye toast this morning.

Or Pizza Hut Thin 'n' Crispy Pepperoni Lovers' pizza, delivered, lukewarm and fresh enough, to my door in something under an hour.

Well, one out of three ain't bad...

xxx c

Image by LynnInTokyo via Flickr, used under a Creative Commons license

How to get to happy: think fast!

I have learned, through trial and error (mostly error), through reading and shrinkage (mostly shrinkage), to pay attention to what is happening when something notable is happening. "Notable" means notable to you, of course: for me, right now, I'm concerned with getting a handle on my triggers and stopping myself, if only a moment, before I pull them, to suss out what's going down. Said triggers include, but are not limited to:

• wanting an alcoholic beverage
• wanting an Americano
• wanting an SCD off-limits item (chiefly bread and Rolos, lately)
• blowing up over discourteous driving
• going to The Dark Place

I'm making some headway with all of them, to varying degrees, in terms of understanding. Note that I did not say I am necessarily making headway with the habit itself; in the eyes of the world, I'm just one more bourbon-swilling, espresso-huffing, carbo-scarfing loudmouth with a sad-ass predilection for moodiness and misanthropy.

Today, I changed it up a bit. Driving from The BF's to my K-town pad this morning, I felt exceptionally happy. Happy as in I feel content where I am, with where I've been, and with where I'm headed. So I asked myself why. What's going on now that makes me feel good-good as opposed to the booze-numbed, chocolate-caramel-endorphined, caffeine-rush, ersatz feeling of good? And I did it fast, like they make you respond to those which pair of lines match up, male-female brain tests do.

And the answers?

1. I felt well-rested
2. I had several hours to myself today to catch up on things
3. I'd worked hard this week
4. I'd helped people this week
5. I had the chance to do items 4 & 5 again next week

That's it.

I'm no richer, thinner, more attractive or better loved than I was yesterday (that I know of, anyway). My to-do list is no shorter and my patience no longer than it was 24 hours ago.

But I'm better rested, I have some breathing room, and I've applied myself (successfully or not). I've found work I love and that enables me to be useful to other people. And, because of a combination of luck and hard work, I'm still here drawing breath, able to lather, rinse and repeat.

Yes, you could say I'm also grateful for all of this stuff and that gratitude is the key to feeling good. I won't lie, it's a big component. And I'm also beginning to be aware, o ye who are well and further down the road, that happiness isn't even the ultimate goal, the letting go of it is.

But before letting go comes happiness, before happiness comes gratitude, and before gratitude comes awareness. It's the first thing, and god bless it, you can do it anytime, anywhere, no matter what part of the path you're on or what the terrain is like under your feet...

xxx c

Photo by carlosluis via Flickr, used under a Creative Commons license

The things you learn from nerds, Craigslist and shock radio

I'm crazy about my beloved Toastmasters club, but that doesn't mean I don't retain a healthy sense of self-awareness about what we truly are: nerds nerds nerds.

People ask me why I go. Some people smirk a lot and look superior when they ask it, they're asking not to ask, but to let me know they know something. These are the people with a preconceived notion not only of Toastmasters, but of the world in general. The kind of people who also make immediate assumptions about someone who listens to Dr. Laura Schlessinger or is a fan of The Tom Leykis Show or sleeps with a married man or believes in reincarnation or only drives sensible cars.

What I'd ask someone who makes those kind of assumptions is, "What do you think of a person who does all of the above?"

This is the crux of it: if you make too many assumptions, you miss out on vast quantities of cool things, of huge swathes of life, of startling epiphanies, joyous surprises and yes, great sex. I know: first I missed out, now I watch (and watch, and watch) as other people do.

They miss out by trying to be cool (hint: really cool people are usually way down with the nerds).

They miss out by being cynical: sometimes that thing that's too good to be true is actually both good and true.

They miss out by playing it safe, opportunity does many things, but knocking twice at your door is rarely one of them.

Tonight, I drove 15 miles to be one of 10 people to hear two of the most amazing speeches I've heard in my life. One was about an actress who drove a taxi as her day job...from age 62 - 70; the other was a perfectly crafted story about the perils of judging a book by its cover, delivered with startling wit, grace and clarity by one who knows.

If you do not do the things that seem weird or strange or hopelessly nerdy because of fear or fatigue, you lose.

And the saddest thing of all is, you will never know how much.

Answer the ad. Pause to ask the question. Engage in conversation. Reward does not always follow risk, but it cannot exist without it.

xxx c

Want more? I also wrote about Toastmasters and impromptu speaking exercises here.

Photo by michaelatacker via Flickr, used under a Creative Commons license

RIP, YMDB; hello, redundancy

I know nothing lasts forever. I also know I'm overly attached to things. But a list of movies? Who thought I'd have to back up a list of my 20 favorite movies?!?

1. If del.icio.us goes under? I lose my links. AKA I'm screwed.
2. If gmail goes down? I lose my email backup. (I've got it all locally, but I'm perched on the edge of a rusty scimitar, AKA, I'm screwed.)
3. If DreamHost goes down? I lose this whole blog, past the last time I backed it up (note to self: find that plug-in that backs up automagically) (and for good measure, back up when you're done with this).

Before I go on, please know that I actually do have a keen sense of perspective when it comes to "stuff", based in no small part to, well, I can't even bring it up in a post this frivolous. You'll just have to trust me, my friend: between my travels abroad and my travels, period, I have an acute understanding not only of the fundamental impermanence of life, but of priorities in general.

Still, we cling to what we cling to, idiotic or not. And today, I'm clinging to movies. I had a list of them on a site called YMDB, which I won't even link to, because it redirects to IMDB, which needs more traffic like I need more holiday fat around my middle, and it Summed Me Up in Movies, and it was a link between me and my beloved Neilochka, and now it's gone.

Worse, occasionally, when I'd be hard up for a good video rental, I'd hop on YMDB and find a similar list. You know, like how you people who don't yet know amazon.com is the devil sometimes use it for other recommendations on crap you might be interested in. Who doesn't want a nice page filled with crap they might be interested in!?! No one, I say!

So to hell with it. I'm putting my new and improved list of fave flickage right here. If anyone has any ideas on other stuff I might want to see, let me know. I gave up TV, remember? I need distraction!

Some disclaimers before I give up the list itself:

• This list was cobbled together from dim, dim memory and a MySpace list, so, you know, it's likely to change
• Drastic change
• This list is in no particular order (although I really, really love The Third Man)
• My criteria have more to do with desirability of repeat viewing than inherent greatness, which is to don't even start about Showgirls, people
• That's it, but bulleted lists look better in odd numbers

Now, without further ado, the list itself:

1. The Third Man
2. The Godfather
3. Alice Doesn't Live Here Anymore
4. Showgirls
5. All About Eve
6. Jackie Brown
7. Brazil
8. Nashville
9. Caddyshack
10. Ed Wood
11. Fat City
12. Le Rayon Vert (aka Summer, in U.S. release)
13. Johnny Guitar
14. Saturday Night Fever
15. The Gay Divorcée
16. Sunset Boulevard
17. Superstar: The Karen Carpenter Story
18. Play Misty for Me
19. Vertigo
20. Singin' in the Rain

As I said, list subject to change. Like me...

xxx c

Image by bryanF via Flickr, used under a Creative Commons license

the communicatrix elsewhere: How to make resolutions that actually work

I've spoken before about how resolutions blow big, stinky chunks, but only hinted at how goal-setting can really work.

If you are over 40 or a realist (I am in the former camp, but hardly the latter), you doubtless understand too well that there is no one book or system or piece of software that will change you life for you, only tools and hacks that help facilitate the growth you are ready to embrace.

I know: I spent 40+ years accumulating tools, and while I made incremental progress on my own, I didn't get Big Mama Change until the universe saw fit to sit me down and teach me a hard lesson. Fortunately, I was ready for it. Because really, the universe's next move was, like, non-operative cancer or some shit, and while the morphine and pot-smoking part of hellish pain sounds good, I question how well I would do with the rest of it.

So if you are change-ready (or change-curious) and want a new tool to play with, I humbly suggest you check out my latest column for LAcasting.com on effecting real change. Included are three steps I've found work well for me, as well as one really excellent book/system which I've hinted at here called Your Best Year Yet, by Ginny Ditzler. I did write the column for actors, but it's not totally acting-centric, and besides, it's always fun to read stuff about actors: ask the publishers of US and People and every other fucking consumer magazine aimed at women 18 - 54 in the U.S.

Also, I'm trying to add to my own body of knowledge on this stuff, so if you've found tactics or tools that work for you, please let me know either in the comments or via email (communicatrix at gmail dotterooski com). I first heard of Best Year Yet via Heidi Miller's excellent small biz marketing podcast, and I totally stole that theme thing from Jenny, for example (she was very gracious about it) and would be happy to steal equally good ideas from you, too.

With attribution, of course...

xxx
c

HELPFUL LINKS:

• Your Best Year Yet, by Ginny Ditzler, on Amazon
  One of the top five books I recommend for turning your life around. Its practices are simple and transformational, if you work them.
• The Best Year Yet website
  The cult around BYY isn't as geek-centric as GTD, so there's less online documentation. Hopefully, that will change at some point. In the meantime, my suggestion is to scan the BYY site, get the book, and see for yourself if it floats your boat.
• Heidi Miller's podcast about Best Year Yet on Diary of a Shameless Self-Promoter
  If you're the listening type, download this episode of Heidi's podcast. She outlines the 10 questions that form the backbone of the BYY system.
• "What to do with that Big, Shiny New Year of Yours" (one of my columns for The Networker)

Image by carf via Flickr, used under a Creative Commons license.

How to light up 2007

Despite all the razzing I get from Neil about my fashion-forward geek-aliciousness, I am not an early adopter. Early adopters have to be the first (First!) and they're willing to pay for the privilege. Me, I am too cheap. I let the early adopters ride out the kinks of version 1.0, wait for structural improvements, a better user manual and a lower price, and then I jump.

Take compact fluorescent lightbulbs, for example. Raised by an environmentally conscious alcoholic, monthly trips to the recycling plant with a Chevy Malibu full of empty booze bottles seemed as natural as breathing. Mom predated CFLs by about a decade, but you know if their paths had coincided, she would have ratcheted down to the box Chablis to cover the initially high cost. (Oh, wait, she dropped down to the box Chablis anyway.)

No such sacrifice is necessary now, of course. You can pick you up some dandy CFLs at IKEA for about 5 bucks a pop, free, if you can sneak them into your boyfriend's cart. They'll save a bunch of energy, which saves the planet and also saves you money. How is this not the most fantastic thing in the world? More importantly, how is it that only 6% of U.S. households are using even one CFL now?!? Does no one want to save money? Do you crave full-spectrum light that much?

True, the light isn't as pretty as that from incandescent (i.e., "regular") bulbs. But the new CFLs are pretty darn good. And the ones from IKEA don't even have that weird coil shape.

Not that there's anything wrong with that...

xxx c

This post made as my bloggy contribution to a worldwide blogger effort to raise awareness about CFLs. More information on Seth Godin's site, here. Save the planet! Buy a lightbulb!

Image by Irina / Riri via Flickr, used under a Creative Commons license.

Clipmarks: killer app for the rest of us

If I were one of those bloggers who was good at the short stuff, I might not need Clipmarks. I'd either have me a whole blog of linky goodness like Jason Kottke, have the time to write a multitude of posts about a multitude of wonderful/useful/both things like the folks at BoingBoing or Lifehacker or the geeky know-how to program a running list of links with pithy summations onto my main site, like swoony Merlin Mann.

But I'm not. I write long. I suck.

Fortunately, Clipmarks does not. In fact, it is the opposite of sucky, in that they seem to have anticipated my every webby need and programmed it in, then delivered it to me along with (AHHHHH, SWEET MYSTERY OF LIFE, AT LAST I'VE FOUND YOU!!!) redundancy so I can rest assured that if they ever go south, forever or even for a teeny split second, my data is also safely held for me at del.icio.us (here's mine) and StumbleUpon (here's mine, and also a lengthy, glowing review of that excellent tool).

Like StumbleUpon, you post links to pages you find interesting, write up an optional summary, and then like Digg, people vote you up the list. You can choose to follow clippers you like, and they can choose to follow you.

Two things make it extra-fabu. First, you don't have to post the whole page, just the parts that interest you. There's a Firefox extension that plugs all the necessary dialing up to the mother ship and clippability; you just clip and send. No more sifting through a long dense article to see if you want to read it: the summary is right there! (I like to add commentary anyway, b/c that's the kind o' broad I am, pushy!) And you can tag the ever-lovin' crap out of it all, so you can find it later.

Second, you can send the entire link or just your clipped portion to any number of other collection services, like del.icio.us, StumbleUpon, Reddit, Digg, etc. And you can set up your clipmarks as a virtual blog by registering with Technorati, so the blog-o-verse will be able to follow the trail of your crazy genius! (Although even Clipmarks can do nothing about Technorati being broken all the time.)

So if you're one of the few who miss my occasional link round-ups of yore, you can bone up (ha ha, I said "bone"). And if you're looking for a way to collect all of your own stuff in one place, you are so DONE, baby!

Word of caution: like all of these 2.0 apps, it can get addictive. I am probably a lousy community member, since I mainly clip and don't "pop" (i.e., vote on other people's clips). And I never check to see if something's been clipped. But the gang are very nice and supportive (hi, Eric!), nonetheless: look who's Quote of the Day:

xxx c

Image by Canonadian (ha ha!) via Flickr, used under a Creative Commons license.

100 Things I Learned in 2006, Part II

For all you OCD types who felt out of whack with a lopsided list, here's the back 50:

1. Back up your files.
2. Getting to Empty is more of a process than an event.
3. An ongoing process.
4. That goes on and on.
5. I should not even bother trying on a garment which is not charcoal, burgundy, pumpkin or that one shade of blue that works with my eyes.
6. Antibiotics wreak at least as much havoc as they prevent.
7. Indiana south of Indianapolis is startlingly beautiful.
8. And frequently, hilarious.
9. Furniture is more excellent on wheels.
10. I was high on crack thinking I could write a 750 word column in one hour.
11. After 45, even skinny people put on weight.
12. "More fun" is a great prescription for personal happiness.
13. It sounds obvious, but it isn't.
14. The Secret is another good place to start.
15. I really missed gyros.
16. My favorite couplet in any song ever is one I wrote myself.
17. This makes me either more talented or more vain than I'm prepared to deal with just yet.
18. I should quit worrying about when Sean will can my slacker ass and just blog, already.
19. The second-most important thing after bringing the tape recorder is remembering to turn it on.
20. There's almost no funk that can withstand the O-magazine/epsom-salt bath/Play Misty for Me trifecta
21. Life is more fun with a label maker.
22. I can be hot when I'm 50.
23. And 60.
24. And 70.
25. Kindred spirits show up in places you'd least expect them to.
26. Doing Best Year Yet is hard.
27. People reveal more than they think by the things they complain about.
28. Disneyland is more fun when you bring kids.
29. Even if you don't get to go on the coolest rides.
30. And you lose one of the kids.
31. Never take Santa Monica or Melrose back to Silver Lake when you are trying to prove a point about shortcuts.
32. More than any kind of theater, I love a really good musical.
33. This is a really good musical.
34. When it comes to books, my eyes will always be bigger than my stomach.
35. Burning incense makes me feel rich.
36. My drinking days are probably numbered.
37. You don't know how depressed you are until you suddenly aren't.
38. The best DVDs to own are Saturday Afternoon Hangover movies.
39. The next-best are TV shows.
40. The greatest luxury no one realizes is time spent alone.
41. I just don't like almond butter.
42. Or The Big Lebowski.
43. Or San Diego.
44. When it comes to taking care of my own health, I have been the world's greatest asshole.
45. People like stories.
46. It's never going to be easy.
47. It's always going to be interesting.
48. Those Entertainment coupon books are a ripoff.
49. If I can do it, anyone can.
50. This means you...

May your 2007 bring you your heart's desire, and may your heart's desire bring the world greater peace and happiness.

xxx c

New around these parts? Blow off my other lists? Here's your chance to catch up:

2006

• 100 things, Part I

2005

• 100 things, Part I
• 100 things, Part II

2004

• 100 things, Part I
• 100 things, Part II

100 Things I Learned in 2006, Part I

In what has become sort of a tradition here at communicatrix, we bring you the year in reverse...or perverse...or something like that. Because after all, what is the point of having a whole, entire year if you can't heave it up at the end and enjoy it again from the beginning?

1. I could live happily elsewhere.
2. I probably won't anytime soon.
3. Deadwood is the best cocksucking sonofabitch show ever.
4. Coaching works.
5. Lawns are overrated.
6. The bargain matinée at the Century City 15 rules.
7. If you want people to become really alarmed on your behalf, tell them you're planning to shave your head.
8. I love the acorn squash at Houston's with a fervor that borders on the unnatural.
9. Good coffee mugs are as hard to find as good handbags and unicorns.
10. I enjoy looking anyway.
11. All of those people who said I would outgrow my lust for high heeled footwear were right.
12. Damn them.
13. Rolos will be the television of 2007.
14. If forced to come up with an earthly description of heaven, I'd pick flashlights, a slow shutter and good company on a starlit deck.
15. A well-cooked pot roast runs a close second.
16. Especially when it is cooked for you, with love, on a chilly Sunday evening.
17. Toastmasters is the shit.
18. UPS is apparently an acronym for Unflaggingly Poor Shipping.
19. There may be something to this whole networking thing.
20. Ditto conferences.
21. I have a little problem recognizing the obvious.
22. When playing games with children under 12, you have to let them win occasionally.
23. Even if you don't want to.
24. Which I never do.
25. Noise is to me as dust was to Julianne Moore in that Todd Haynes movie.
26. It is worth it to pay the extra freight for heavy card stock.
27. Those cherry Larabars are really, really good.
28. Eventually, if you eat enough of them, they taste like soylent green.
29. I absolutely, positively love getting up in front of a bunch of people and talking.
30. Acting, not so much.
31. Just because you paid a crapload of money for a couch is no reason to keep it around.
32. Alison Bechdel is a genius.
33. My jealous streak, while lying dormant for years at a time, is capable of erupting at a moment's notice.
34. Fortunately, it now scares the bejeezus out of me.
35. My parking luck will never catch up to my used leather jacket luck.
36. I like the idea of being a gardener better than the actual gardening.
37. My significant others will always be somewhat horrified by the rest of the club.
38. Being disorganized is my spiritual governor the way Crohn's is my physical one.
39. Starbucks sucks.
40. Its suckage increases in direct proportion to the distance between it and other coffee alternatives.
41. This makes it suckier beyond suckiest suckiness.
42. Forget the hounds, release the fleas.
43. With the right partner, sex actually gets better after the 18-month mark.
44. This gives me hitherto unimaginable hope for the future.
45. If things continue in the current direction, I may drive less than 6,000 miles next year.
46. The Wall Street Journal is a surprisingly engaging read.
47. You can still recycle VHS tapes.
48. I don't look quite as butch with short hair as I thought I would.
49. The BF looks even better with long hair than I thought he would.
50. Fucker.

xxx c

Can't wait for more communicatrix listy goodness? Come late to the party? Never fear! Memory lane be here:

2005

• 100 things, Part I
• 100 things, Part II

2004

• 100 things, Part I
• 100 things, Part II

5 things you didn't know about me(me)

I think this is the first time I've been tagged for one of those meme thingys. (Thanks, Jessica. No, really, thanks a lot: I had completely lost the will to blog, and you've jogged me out of it, which in addition to being really cool, also rhymes.)

I have participated in memes, back before I understood blogging protocol forbade participation sans tagging, but they don't count then, do they?

Even if this is not the first time I've been tagged, I'm sure this is the first one I found out about, and that only thanks to Google alerts, I'm afraid I've been as terrible at keeping up with the rest of you as I've been with keeping the blog.

At any rate, this ain't no easy meme for a tell-it-all blabbermouth like me. The whole point of communicatrix, The Blog, and I know, some of you are shaking your heads slowly in disbelief that there actually is a point, is to lay my truth out there in the wee, vain hope that it might help someone else find his. Or, for those of you who stare your damn truth in the face 24/7/365 (366 on leap year), that I might make you laugh and forget it for a few moments.

My point is, what haven't I told you people? Seriously. Sure, there are a (very) few items which must needs remain unspoken for modesty's sake, other people's modesty, not my own. (As if!) But stay that way they must. And I'm sure there are thousands of items which are eminently share-worthy, only I can't think of them now that I'm put on the spot. So if these five seem lame, well, blame it on the excessive drinking and drug-taking of my early years. Or my current years. The old gray mare, she ain't what she used to be.

1. I have not balanced my checkbook in over 15 years. 2. My favorite food is stone crab with butter. 3. I am terrified to spend the night at The BF's when he is not here. 4. I have parachuted out of an airplane. Twice. 5. I fold my underwear.

God. I am even more simultaneously boring and weird than I thought I was.

xxx c

P.S. Since you're supposed to tag someone, I'm tagging Erik, partly because he is my favorite new blogger of 2006 so far*, partly because he shares my love of lists, and partly just because!

*The BF may start a blog before January and his children descend upon us, so I reserve my final vote for Favorite Blog until December 31 at 11:59pm. After that, Erik, it's all you...

UPDATE: Apparently, I was tagged by Tim Donnelly, over to the Aquent blog, a day after posting this here thing here. Which means (a) I am much beloved even if (b) I am not much read. (Giant aside: can I have your job when you tire of it, please?) Photo by marjo0o via Flickr, used under a Creative Commons license.

Resolved for 2007

Jenny has said she's not one for resolutions, and I'm with her: pulling "gonnas" out of your ass, as in "I'm gonna quit smoking" or "I'm gonna get in shape" or "I'm gonna quit pulling things out of my ass", is a recipe for feelings of personal failure and severe depression in the cold, holiday-free months of the new year. She prefers a "theme", such as "revival" or "more love" or "less putting of things in quotation marks." (Oh, wait, that's mine.)

I do like and believe in making plans, it appeals to the listmaker in me, and will probably take another, more serious crack at the Best Year Yet, "values-based" goal-setting system, for 2007. But before I even get to BYY, which I have actually SCHEDULED on the CALENDAR (December 23rd, you're on yer own that night, The BF), I came up with a theme for next year: Expand and Focus.

While I realize this seems like a contradiction in terms, I like it for precisely that reason: it's like a zen koan, and it's custom-made for overachieving type-As like me. Why? Because it will slow me the fuck down, that's why. You try being an overachieving type-A for 45 years. Hell, try it for a week. If you're unused to it, I can almost guarantee you'll suffer adrenal burnout in 72 hours.

Of course, I may still pick "Slow Down" or even "Slow the Fuck Down" as my 2007 mantra, but it has such negative connotations for me now, I feel glum just typing it. In contrast, I feel good about the sort of limitless possibility attached to "Expand and Focus". Also, I can monkey with this sort of stuff indefinitely, until things reach such a disastrous state of disarray, it becomes like deck chair rearranging on the Titanic. And believe you me, I'll keep shuffling those things till there's no deck left to shuffle on.

Still, some of you out there know me pretty well by now. Perhaps you have an even better deck chair arrangement to suggest...

xxx c

Photo by nickherber via Flickr, used under a Creative Commons license

Why I love craigslist (and The BF)

So about three years ago I bought this couch: Big. Red. Room-dominating. Expensive as hell. (What can I say? I was going through a phase about shedding my infernal cheapness. And fuckery. So you see.)

Anyway, it was/is a magnificent couch in its way, but it had no business being in my smallish, mid-century apartment. And as my lifestyle changed, acting replaced by design and its attendant computer sprawl, random fuckery replaced by The BF, it actually became sort of a nuisance as well as an anachronism.

After an unsuccessful attempt to dump the behemoth on my sister's boyfriend (not literally, he's nice!), I turned to the master of fuckery, er, craigslist, The BF.

In the two years I've known him, The BF has successfully converted a staggering array of used, half-used and unused items to cold, hard cash via eBay and craigslist. Within ten days, he had moved The Behemoth to his place (no mean feat, given the crazy number of stairs involved), put it on wheels (don't ask), and sold it for cash money (from the buyer) and a Taylor's steak dinner (from me).

Part of The BF's high success rate with selling is patience. Selling used goods, like undertaking large-scale home improvement projects or raising children, requires a tolerance for tedium I lack in spades. Not only is The BF not afraid of tearing down an interior wall or making babies or selling used crap, he does it all with panache. Such photos! Such an exquisite sense for pricing! And mainly, such a gift with item descriptions.

Here, for example, is his most recent listing:

Ugly Rug Cheap! 5x8 Pottery Barn Rug All wool - $20

That's right, you can have this incredibly ugly rug for only twenty bucks! It's all wool, I don't even want to think about how much we paid for it originally, but it can be yours for only $20 if you call before I take it down to Goodwill or Out of the Closet.

It's 5x8, check out the picture of the label, it really is a pottery barn carpet and was decent at one time. It does have some stains which may or may not come out - I don't want to find out. Personally, I've never liked this rug but my wife thought it was OK for the back room, but that's another story. Now we have another rug and you can have this one for your project room, or garage, or whatever.

From my own experience, I know what a treasure trove of fascinating characters craigslist can be. (I found mine via the fuckery pages, but whatever.) And you don't have to go to Rants & Raves or Best Of to find them: they'll come to you, if you say the magic words. Which The BF knows by heart, it would seem. Hence, the following exchange, reprinted exactly as it transpired (email addresses and CL legalese redacted):

From: xxxxxxx@aol.com To: sale-243280408@craigslist.org Sent: Sun, 3 Dec 2006 7:03 PM Subject: Ugly Rug Cheap! 5x8 Pottery Barn Rug All wool - $20

you are funny

***

On Dec 3, 2006, at 7:09 PM, THE_BF@xxxxxx.com wrote:

too bad I can't make a living at it.

***

-----Original Message----- From: xxxxxxx@aol.com To: THE_BF@xxxxxx.com Sent: Sun, 3 Dec 2006 7:17 PM Subject: Re: Ugly Rug Cheap! 5x8 Pottery Barn Rug All wool - $20

have you tried organizing it in that way and going for it?

***

On Dec 3, 2006, at 10:00 PM, THE_BF@xxxxxx.com wrote:

are you my subconscious? why are you e-mailing me instead of appearing as the virgin mary like you usually do?

***

-----Original Message----- From: xxxxxxx@aol.com To: THE_BF@xxxxxx.com Sent: Sun, 3 Dec:51 PM Subject: Re: Ugly Rug Cheap! 5x8 Pottery Barn Rug All wool - $20

I am a virtual virgin reaching to you at Christmas I am the ghost of christmas 40 years from now when you didn't go for your dreams BECAUSE YOU THOUGHT IT WAS TOO LATE OR SOME OTHER FRIGGING EXCUSE BECAUSE YOU ARE SCARED

ME TOO---

***

On Dec 4, 2006, at 12:44 AM, THE_BF@xxxxxx.com wrote:

so I guess this means you don't want my rug?

***

-----Original Message----- From: xxxxxxx@aol.com To: THE_BF@xxxxxx.com Sent: Mon, 4 Dec 2006 8:24 AM Subject: Re: Ugly Rug Cheap! 5x8 Pottery Barn Rug All wool - $20

never did was taken in by the truthful/meaness of the word 'ugly' had to read it

***

On Dec 4, 2006, at 9:43 AM, THE_BF@xxxxxx.com wrote:

Thanks for writing! I'm not being sarcastic. At least I don't think I'm being sarcastic. It's hard to tell.

You are right, of course - it's very common to not do something out of fear, and easy to make excuses. At the end of the day, however, the only regrets I have are those of omission, not commission. I've never said "gee, i wish I hadn't done that" but I've often said "gee, I wish I had done this when I had the chance".

You're sure you don't want the rug?

***

-----Original Message----- From: xxxxxxx@aol.com To: THE_BF@xxxxxx.com Sent: Mon, 4 Dec 2006 9:52 AM Subject: Re: Ugly Rug Cheap! 5x8 Pottery Barn Rug All wool - $20

give the rug to a poor person- some woman out of a shelter with kids who's living with blankets on the floor- someone who can't even afford to buy something at goodwill at the end of the day i do say "I wish I hadn't done that" so lucky for you I have made some supremely bad choices that i now pay for dearly- the humor I see in your paragraph was the kind that the writers on Everybody Loves Raymond' used over and over again- after all- the whole show was a one trick pony- the stupid no nothing husband and the brilliant wife- alot of humor is that- your one observation about the rug and the room and the wife were enough for a two part sitcom you know that it's the work either you do it or you don't either you want it or you don't nobody who makes it is weak

When I think of leaving L.A. these days, it's only for a place that has a reasonably active craigslist. I mean, where else can you sell your shit, have a philosophical discussion and be insulted all in the same email exchange?

xxx c

P.S. The rug is still for sale.