What Matt Coddington taught me about blogging

A blog on "5 Blogging Methods That Work" was sent to me by my roommate, Ben, who supports me in my nerdiness and, in fact, feeds it quite well. For example, I sit and watch him play Final Fantasy XII (or MXIVIIII or something) and then I play Rez, a sweet and addictive game with a cover design that looks to be circa 1970.

Back to this article. Let's see if I can pull it all together. Here's the list of the top 5, and my comments:

1. Breaking a Post Down into a List -- done and done. This is a list, duh.

2. The "What [person/group/experience] Taught Me About [topic]" Strategy -- (check out the title of this post.)

3. Link-farm Posts -- This is not what it sounds like. I don't even know what it sounds like, but it does sound confusing. This would be where I give a shout out to Matt Coddington, for coming up with such a spectacular blog about blogging. Good work, Matt. But I've got more good blogs I regularly read to share with you. I'll try to figure out how to post them in the sidebar or something.

4. Make All of Your Posts Personal -- Alright, it's time for PSS (personal story sharing). This is where I relate a personal experience to whatever it is I'm blogging about. For instance, I'm currently writing about efficient ways to make a blog attractive, which rather reminds me of how I like to buy things on clearance. Actually there's no relation there, but that was part of my surprise story segue (yaaay!) ...

I've bought many a clearance item, some of them better decisions than others. For example, some of the better things I've found at something near 75% off include: adorable jewelery, some navy corduroys, shiny things. Some less-than-quality clearance shelf buys that, admittedly, were the result of sheer excitement at the low cost, include: hideous jewelery, clothes I've never worn, a dead puppy. Hey, it was on clearance.

Was that personal enough? This section also recommends offering personal opinion and advice. My advice to you? Think twice before you buy that Conair Quick Braid automatic hair braider, even if it is only $5. I'm proud to say I didn't give in to this one, but I've been tempted more than once.

5. Interlink Everything -- I'll just continue to use the "I have a problem with clearance items" story to give examples of this one...
Seriously guys, I'm beginning to learn my lesson here. I now know that items go on clearance for a reason, because they are A) designed to fit the bodies of strangely disproportionate people; B) are butt-ugly; C)are defective or harmful to people like me - like that Tetris game I bought and quickly became addicted to this summer (it's broken now); D)are kind of cool, but you'll never, EVER use it. Think the HEBE Ceramic Heater that "quickly warms feet and ankles" in your car, among other things. Here's a link to an obscure Russian website that features this amazing product, which I actually purchased over 2 years ago for a meager amount at Target, though I don't know how or why. It's still in the package.

So, according to this Coddington fellow, I should be all set with a successful blog. I've got all his suggested elements. What, you say it was ridiculously all over the place, came to no conclusion and contained nothing noteworthy or entertaining? Well, you read this far ...

Children like to throw themselves to the wind...

... but the wind will NOT CATCH YOU, children!!!

At what point in our growing up years do we get the idea that we're kind of on our own? No, seriously. When do we stop trusting that someone will be there to catch us if we literally fall?

I ask because Jack, the beautiful little babe I babysit weekly, has taken to throwing himself down spiral slides. Like, diving with all the force he can muster. I barely have time for a death-defying leap from the playground to the base of the slide to catch him, and as I heave breaths of relief at his survival, Jack is furiously giggling with glee. I do love his lack of trepidation, and I know I can keep him safe, but my lord - do they all do this?

Other funny Jack stories:

-Today he discovered his shadow, which absolutely freaked him out. He tried to run away from it, which, if you have any experience with shadows, doesn't work. It was truly a hilarious thing to watch, and me being the cruel babysitter I am, laughed at him. Soon he realized it was kind of with him against his will, and he would point at it and yell "Stop!" When he started to cry I stepped in ... but I was still laughing inside. The photo to the left is Jack giving his shadow a "What! You want summa THIS?!?" look -- right before the tears came.

-He's recently found excessive use for the word "no." For example:
"Jack, here's some of your favorite cheese!" ----"no."
"Jack, it's time to leave the park now." ------"mmm, no."
"Jack, do you like sitting in your own poo?" ---"no." "So let's get your diaper changed." ---"...no." {deploy devious look, twist free, run away laughing}

Fine, then. You enjoy that.

Unabashed, no ash

Ash Wednesday has come again, and for the second time within my span of memory, I didn't go. I can feel the guilt creeping through me. Whether that guilt is Catholic-induced or it's just me, I don't really know, but it's oddly annoying and saddening at the same time. It's strange not being part of something I once considered so powerfully real. But it's harder yet to sit through a mass and keep my mouth from opening and saying all those things I used to say. "Lord, I am not worthy..."; "I believe in one God, the Father Almighty..."; and the ultimate in monotone: "It is right to give Him thanks and praise..." (don't anyone change your intonation - you might pull a throat muscle).

I went to mass with my parents recently, and come communion time I had no idea what to do. Realizing the monumental meaning of the Eucharist to the Catholic church (since I used to be pretty hard core about it myself), I didn't want to take it, out of respect. But then there were all these friends of mine across the pews who would see that whole new side of me, that far-drifted girl who used to be so solid in her faith. Former Catholics on Campus Vice President, anyone? Buffalo Awakening 2-8?

I was telling Andy how weird it felt not to have ashes on my forehead today. He offered to make a fire and put an ash smiley face on my forehead to make me feel better. Kind offer. Blasphemous, but kind. :)

After reading Sue Monk Kidd's The Dance of the Dissident Daughter, I feel so much more founded in a spirituality that is sort of all my own. What I love about the Church is the community it provides. What I dislike about it is enough to keep me away, at least for now. I haven't lost hope in the Church, but for me, right now, at this time in my life, it's not something I'll settle for, or fight for, either.

I've got this blog, but why I'm reciting these concerns here is kind of intriguing to me. I guess I like a little controversy -- feeling that little rush of knowing a lot of people reading this might be surprised or {gasp!} offended. But it's honest, and I'm convinced that's the best way to be with things like this.

Let me just say that I have incredible respect for the people who work for the Church - to keep it strong and make it beautiful, and to work toward goodness and truth. I have real love for the friends I've met there, and find inspiration from just about every one of them.

So offer up your opinions, comments, discussions ... I'd love to hear them, and I mean that.
Oh, and this "serious" business is temporary, so get it while it lasts!

And I didn't end up taking the Eucharist that day in church. I did go up to get blessed by the priest.

More disgust with peanut products.

After my bout with salmonella butter, I thought I was done complaining about peanuts. But I just discovered that my 1.75 oz. "Sensible Solution" Planters Lightly Salted Dry Roasted Peanuts of the snack tube variety contain 25 grams of fat. That's like half a whopper, and I don't see how that's "sensible." They're not even honey-roasted!

Software for starving students

Found this on Lifehacker the other day. It looks to contain some really cool software, whether you've got Windows or a Mac. And then a few things you might not pee your pants over, like BZFlag, a 3D multi-player "capture the flag" tank game. But then again, it might be cool.

One of the coolest things on this is MozoDojo (Macs only). It's photo-mosaic software that lets you ... well, just look below at this picture of me at the 2006 World Cup in Germany, compiled from the other 650 pictures of my trip to Europe.Sweeeet. I haven't downloaded the Starving Student package yet, but you can go through a list of what it gives you and download them one-by-one if that suits your fancy, too.

24 Hour Pizza

Snagged this from Brad Feld's blog. It's quite awesome.

Choosy moms choose Jif ...

... because the competition contains salmonella. Ew.

Funny story - I was sitting at my desk this morning munching on a banana and adding little swipes of peanut butter to each bite for added flavor. My co-worker Stephanie walks in and says something like, "Good morning! Oh, did you check to make sure that's not the kind of peanut butter that got recalled today for containing salmonella?"

"Um, what?" I said. Only it came out more like, "Uhhhh, whaaa?" because my mouth was full of sticky pb.

So we went to USAToday.com, where sure enough, there's a headline on the front page warning of the recall. But what are the chances that it's the same brand AND batch that I've got in my mouth, right? I begin to scan the story:

"The Food and Drug Administration (FDA) announced Wednesday night that jars of Peter Pan and Wal-Mart's Great Value brand peanut butter beginning with the product code "2111" on the lid of the jar could be contaminated with the strain Salmonella Tennessee..."

I checked the lid of my Peter Pan jar and literally gasped. "2111..." I do believe a look of pure horror seeped into my face, not just because I'd had some of the death butter with my banana that morning, but because half the jar was already gone.

But I didn't just feel scared. I felt angry. Duped. But not as angry and duped as when I stubbed my toe on my bathroom door, and then actually verbally apologized to the door without thinking. The anger set in when I began to feel the pain of stubbing your toe, and although I directed my anger at the door, the root of it was really more from A)me running into the door, and B)me saying "oops, I'm sorry!" to a WOODEN DOOR. It happens, though. That was last week and we've since reconciled.

Anyways ...

When I got home tonight I checked my cupboard for the other jar I had, which, to my surprise, was also of the salmonella type. Mmmm, yummy. This one was 3/4 gone. If I'm not around in a week or so, someone please sue Peter Pan for me.

I have one more thing to say about this "situation," if you will. The strain is called "Salmonella Tennessee." What? Why? Who named it that, and what sort of insult is that to Tennessee-ans? It's like the FDA is saying, "This one's bad. Real bad. Yes, I would say this diarrhea-inducing, vomit-wielding, possibly deadly strain of salmonella is comparable to the nasty effects of the state of Tennessee. " I think that's just a little harsh. I've been to Nashville, and it's pretty neat.

It's not every day you see that kind of action

"Stop that dog! STOP THE DOG! Dammit! Every time!!! ..."

Now let's rewind a bit, because I've gone and jumped to the best part of the story without giving any background information. But let me preface this by saying that this is the closest I've had to a real-life scene from 24.

It was Friday afternoon and I was out running errands. I went to the Rite Aid in North Boulder to fill a prescription, and they said it would be about 15 minutes. So I decided to walk to the Wells Fargo in the same shopping strip and do a bit of banking. Between those two said stores is an empty space that used to be Albertson's, another empty space that used to be Ross, and a PetSmart - still open but possibly not for long if you get where this is going already.

So I'm walking down the sidewalk and look up to see a 70-pound lab/dalmation bolting directly at me at maybe 155 mph. No, kidding, but it was running as though it's life depended on it, which by the looks of the exasperated and angry PetSmart employees high-tailing after it, may have been the case. These girls, of course were the voice of the "Stop that dog!" exclamation - a phrase directed at me, the innocent bystander toward whom the dog ran. I did not stop the dog. I kind of put my hand out in a gesture that, far too late, said something like "Excuse me, dog? Someone would like your attention ...". It did not work, and these PetSmart people who un-exscudedly let this dog get away while they were clipping its claws or something, gave me a look like, "You could have done better than that!"

What was I supposed to do? Hunch over in prep-stance as though I could just dive 6 feet in whichever direction the dog chose to bi-pass me on? Uh-uh. I am not Misty May. Or Jack Bauer.

So I went and did my banking. When I walked back to Rite Aid there were 3 policemen and a couple of teens whose bags were being rifled through by said policemen. One of them looked not busy, so I asked him: "Did they catch that dog?" He thought I was crazy, according to the look on his face, and because he replied with "Excuse me?!"

But then out of nowhere one of the kids being searched starts laughing and says to me, "No, man, they chased it that way! SO funny!!!"

While I appreciated receiving the information I had requested, I couldn't help but wonder why the teen shoplifter in the process of being searched and arrested got such a kick out of the situation, too. But even the cop started laughing. Bizarre.

But gosh, I miss living in that area of North Boulder -aka the ghetto of Boulder. I'll have to stop by more often and see what more excitement I can find.

"Taste the Magic of Mexico" at Casa Bonita

Some people think Casa Bonita is an appropriate place for, say, a 3-year-old's birthday. But is it particularly inappropriate for a 23-year-old's? Because that's how I rang in the new birth-year. As a Casa Bonita virgin, I wasn't sure what to expect, either. Everytime someone mentions it I learn something new: "Oh, they've got cliff divers"; "Hey, I love their sopapillas!"; "Don't touch the walls of Bart's Cave"; "Don't miss out on the fortune teller- she looks just like Michael Jackson"; "Don't bother sending your food back. It all tastes that bad"; "Watch out for that creepy gorilla!" The strange part is that all of this I actually came to understand after going, and it doesn't sound so weird to me now.

My birthday was a blast, actually. After Casa Bon-eat-crap-for-food, a dozen of us went to Splitz bowling, which is bowling on steroids AND crack. It wasn't just the bad food, ski ball and beer that made me so happy that night. It was trying Dance Dance Revolution and NOT getting it AT ALL. It was breaking 100 points two games in a row, despite thick and choking smoke machine fog, deafening Top 40 music, strobe lights, colored lights and dizzying disco balls. And it was being with really fun friends at really funny places. I love a night in which you can go to Casa Bonita, go play bowling-on-acid, and follow all that up by waiting in Taco Bell's 30 minute drive-thru at 2 a.m. for some more bad Mexican food. This is why I have concluded that 23 is not old. Not at all, in fact. It's just an extension of being a teenager with a whole lot more freedom. I'm only 2 years away from being able to rent a car from virtually ANY car rental company, you know.

On Saturday, Jeff, Andy and I went to Mustard's Last Stand with high expectations that were far from met, but we did get to see a lone crazy man on Broadway and Arapahoe holding a hand-painted piece of cardboard that read "Hilary is Hitler." Andy made me a delicious dinner on Saturday, and I baked a "sweet and salty" chocolate cake (from scratch!) and made (from scratch) a caramel-chocolate ganache frosting for it -- with help from Stephanie and Andy. Yummm... There's lots left over, so come and get it while it lasts! To top off the evening, Steph did a remarkably accurate and awesome Tarrot reading for me.

This beats out last year's notable birthday incident in which a car crashed into my dear Treasure ('95 Taurus, power seats and windows) at 12:07 a.m. - the exact minute of my birth.

So thanks, guys! I love you!