Archives for the month of: July, 2005

Let me be hon­est, I’m not your typ­i­cal, words free flow­ing “out of the box” blog­ger. By that I mean I always find it dif­fi­cult to pull top­ics of inter­est out of that prover­bial hat and most times I just write accord­ing to my gut feel­ing on some­thing that I feel might be impor­tant. How­ever, due to this level of spon­taen­ity, I’m often sec­ond guess­ing myself to the point where most posts (or arti­cles) that I write end up on the cut­ting room floor.

The rea­son for this is that 99.9% of the time I con­vince myself that what­ever I had to say has been said numer­ous amounts of times in one form or another. For exam­ple, the other day I wanted to write about what I called “The Yin and Yang of Pas­tries”, wherein I’d rant about the imme­di­ate glut­tony as a result of Krispy Kremes mak­ing their way into office environments.

After get­ting about halfway into the post I high­lighted the bulk of it and promptly hit the Delete key. Whether I knew it or not at the time I had con­vinced myself that noone in their right mind would be inter­ested in read­ing about how I believe donuts are a lead­ing fac­tor to glut­to­nous office workers.

Along these lines of thought, Keith just wrote about what he’s learned from blog­ging for the past 3 years. To sum­ma­rize; blog­ging takes time, effort and in the scope of things it’s won­der­fully reward­ing. I couldn’t agree more, how­ever, in the past 2 or 3 years since I decided to give this blog­ging thing a try I’ve real­ized that receiv­ing feed­back on posts and build­ing a com­mu­nity of reg­u­lar read­ers is not only reward­ing in the sense that “Hey, peo­ple like read­ing what I have to say”, but also it adds a layer of mean­ing to what would oth­er­wise be equiv­a­lent to hav­ing a con­ver­sa­tion with a brick wall, or writ­ing in a diary that gets shoved into the cor­ner of drawer that’s never opened.

Blog­ging is cer­tainly not a “lock and key”, all eyes diverted kind of activ­ity. In most cases, the blog­ger wishes to share infor­ma­tion with whomever seems inter­ested and the feed­back is what extends the thought, idea, obser­va­tion, tuto­r­ial or les­son into some­thing with more impact and sub­stance that far exceeds anyone’s expectations.

Yet, there’s also a deeper truth here that what lies on the sur­face level. There are those who can keep a con­sis­tent sched­ule of posts and there are those, like me, who post irreg­u­larly. Is there a right or wrong to the amount of posts that should be writ­ten on a monthly, weekly or daily basis? Should an indi­vid­ual write only when some­thing needs to be said, or should a blog be a freeflow­ing medium wherein the blog­ger posts what­ever comes to their head?

At one point I believed that a blog should in its most con­crete form be a con­stantly updated jour­nal, but in recent years other things in my life have taken pri­or­ity. Even then I almost feel that I need to write about some­thing, for fear that whomever keeps my feed around is wait­ing for fresh con­tent. Yet, I don’t want to lock myself down to only pleas­ing my read­ers when in fact this site was started as a per­sonal project to fuel my love for writ­ing and my knack for observ­ing the lighter and darker aspects of life.

BookEither peo­ple are anx­ious to see fresh con­tent or I’m just read­ing into it, either way, I’ve been passed a book baton by Greg, Phu and Khaled.

Num­ber of Books on Shelf

Oh wow. Truth­fully, there are about 100 books on the small book­shelf in our liv­ing room and scat­tered through­out our apart­ment I’d esti­mate that I’ve col­lected over 3 – 400 books that run the gamut as far as dif­fer­ent sub­ject mat­ter. The plan is that when we finally take the plunge and pur­chase a house to store our mate­r­ial items, that we’ll set up more book­shelf space to prop­erly (for once) store these books.

Last Book Purchased

Harry Pot­ter and the Half-Blood Prince. While I didn’t go to one of those overnight par­ties, I did pur­chase it from Ama​zon​.com and received it the same day it was released, which was a com­mend­able feat in itself on Amazon’s part.

Book Read­ing Right Now

Harry Pot­ter and the Half-Blood Prince. Unlike Greg, who fin­ished the lat­est Pot­ter book in a few days, I’m about halfway through. I’d say this book is much more historically-driven than the pre­vi­ous novels.

Last 5 Books Read

I typ­i­cally read about 5 or 6 books at a time, mean­ing that a lot of the con­tent kind of mashes together into what I can only describe as a vividly stitched and inter­wo­ven storyline.

Books That Mean A Lot To Me

As Greg stated, this is a bit dif­fi­cult since there are a slew of fan­tas­tic books that have in some way or another effected me on an emo­tional level.

Pass it Along

Instead of choos­ing a select few to pass this along to, I’ll just sug­gest that any­one that’s inter­ested, feel free to steal this book meme and make it your own.

As far as blog­ging is con­cerned, I’ve been a bit out of the loop lately. You could attribute it to the daily rit­ual of let­ting life’s respon­si­bil­i­ties take focus or another excuse could be that I really haven’t had much to say of as late.

Hon­estly, I could wag, point or wig­gle a fin­ger in the direc­tion of either excuse if it really came down to it, but instead I’ll just relin­quish any excuse and steer my atten­tion towards main­tain­ing a sense of sta­bil­ity in regards to the life­line of this site.

That said, I’d like to share with you a few snip­pets, which in some sense could also be nuggets of infor­ma­tion, so I’ll call them “snuggets”. If you’re like me and love using com­pletely made up words in every­day con­ver­sa­tion, then feel free to use that in future dis­cus­sions around the water cooler.

And now, I present this week’s worth of snuggets:

Blingo

As it says in the About sec­tion on the Blingo site: “Blingo is a search engine with a twist. Each search on Blingo is also a chance to win a prize.” It’s really that sim­ple. In fact, just moments ago I was ran­domly selected to win a free movie ticket and because Colin Devroe invited me ini­tially he’ll also receive the prize.

The Case of the Burnt Grilled Cheese Imprint

Word to the wise; when cook­ing a grilled cheese sand­wich at your inlaws remem­ber to check the pan to see if it’s non-stick. Last week I made the mis­take of prepar­ing a grilled cheese sand­wich and then cook­ing it on a reg­u­lar pan.

It didn’t help that the stove was gas burn­ing and that I had set the tem­per­a­ture on high. As soon as I slapped the bread into the pan, it stuck to the bot­tom of it like glue and left behind a burnt toast-shaped imprint.

After dous­ing the pan in vine­gar and an esti­mated 20 min­utes of furi­ous (elbow grease) scrub­bing it looked close to as good as new.

Eat­ing Bugs for Protein

I’ve often thought about and won­dered why cer­tain tribes eat bugs for pro­tein. Ask a tribe mem­ber and he or she will tell you it’s for nour­ish­ment, good health and vital­ity or, sim­ply, that it just tastes good.

I once ate a hand­ful of chocolate-covered ants and thought it was one of the most dis­gust­ing things I had ever eaten, taste and tex­ture wise. Ask your­self this ques­tion: Would you ever eat a bowl­ful of cock­roaches for $1,000,000 dol­lars? The money aspect is tempt­ing, but could you endure just how utterly dis­taste­ful that would be?

The Inven­tor of the Slow Cooker (a.k.a. Crockpot)

Who­ever invented the slow cooker, thank you, from the bot­tom of my “I really didn’t feel like spend­ing a great deal of time prepar­ing din­ner” heart. Who­ever you are, you’re right up there with the inven­tors of Silly Putty (NASA, I believe) and water-expanding, insta-grow dinosaurs.

If you’re ever in a bind for time; cut up some round steak, toss in a can of stewed toma­toes, sweet pep­pers, a drop or two of Red Hot and switch to ‘High’ and in 5 – 6 hours you’ll be enjoy­ing pep­per steak.

Choco­late Shell Ice Cream Topping

On a sim­il­iar note to the above snugget, thanks to whomever came up with the choco­late shell top­ping. If you’ve never tried this, it’s basi­cally the same choco­late solu­tion that you would get in a real ice cream shop, that hard­ened choco­late coat­ing on an ice cream cone. In this case, it’s for home use and makes a bowl of vanilla ice cream that much more tantalizing.

That’s it for this round of snuggets. If you’d like to add your own, please per­suse the com­ments because we all love tid­bits of what some would call use­less bits of infor­ma­tion, but what I like to call Snuggets.

For many, the 4th of July is a time to cel­e­brate the his­tory of Amer­i­can inde­pen­dence. It truly marks the offi­cial start of sum­mer; the aroma of freshly cooked bar­beque, the roar of crowds at sport­ing events, the loom­ing boom of fire­works explod­ing in the dis­tance and more impor­tantly a time for fam­i­lies to gather together and wax nostalgic.

For my fam­ily and I, the 4th of July brings forth a series of mem­o­ries of my Uncle Steve, who died four years ago of schleroderma.

For me per­son­ally, I was for­tu­nate to speak with my Uncle before his death and in that short gap of time he shared with me sev­eral things that I’ll always remem­ber and keep close to my heart. It’s impor­tant that even in the clos­ing moments of our lives that we, as human beings, should remem­ber to leave behind a legacy of words for our loved ones to reflect on and remem­ber us by.

My Uncle was a hard-working man with a lot of strength, both phys­i­cally and meta­phys­i­cally. He wasn’t per­fect, but in my eyes and in the eyes of my fam­ily he couldn’t be any more per­fect than he already was. When that call came, the day he passed on, after strug­gling months on end with the dis­ease that ended his life, I remem­ber think­ing to myself that in that moment when my fam­ily col­lec­tively sighed relief for his pain and our anguish, that a man who I had come to know as my Uncle had passed on and no longer would I be able to pick up the phone and just shoot the breeze.

There’s no bet­ter time than now to look around you and notice your sur­round­ings, how­ever near or far. Under­stand that life is pre­cious and in a flash of mem­o­ries the present is already the past.

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