Subway escapades and books to boot…or read.

Welcome to another edition of…Three-random-thoughts-on-the-subway-Thursday’s!

  1. Oh my God! Is that Paul Giamatti! OMG I  love him!! Is it? Could it be?  Nah. This is Atlanta.
  2. Wait. Can these people hear that I’m listening to Maxwell? I don’t want them to see me/hear me listening to Maxwell. What will they think if they can hear my Maxwell?
  3. Oh Lord! This dude beside me didn’t assume the herky-jerky-train-stance! If this dude falls on me it’s gonna be a problem! Dangit!
For more subway fare (Get it?! Subway fare :D) visit here.  Photo’s by Kubrick.  Stanley Kubrick.  Once there check out the 2nd shot for an illustration of the herky-jerky-train-stance:  feet shoulder width apart with a slight lean forward, to anticipate sudden movements and prepare to brace

Sure the Feeble 5 can be on the train, but not Paul Giamatti. Maybe he's filming Sideways 2. Hope so!

And now for the book love!

Day/titles 108-110

At the request of my blog buddy Sel, here are some works by African authors. Lottery be darned! I run this!! 😀

Short read but oh so engaging!

Short stories. Every one of them worth the price of admission but 'Luxurious Hearses'...grabs you and transfixes you. You are there.

Oyeyemi knows how to tell a tale that will scare the pants off you.

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Somewhere in this web logging community, was born 3…

And now for this week’s installation of 3-Things-Thursday! Three totally un-related things that I’m 100% certain register a full 10.0+ on your who-gives a-dang-o-meter; All random.  All right here.  Because  I love you.

1. Inwardly I rail against it but today is the day I say no more.  Its a part of who I am and I’ll no longer deny it.  **Fighting the urge to say “I was born this way” because I am that person you may have heard about who is NOT a Lady GaGa fan—she scares me.**

OK.  So here it is: I love pink.  I don’t know why but I feel ashamed of it.  When I’m choosing something and there’s a dazzling array of colors and I instinctively wanna get the pink one I dang near slap my own hand!  No more! From here on in I’m pink and I’m proud!

2. I’m in a quandary.  The good folks at Dunkin Donuts © gave me a coupon for a free coffee for my burfday.  Do I:

a.) Use it now even thought I’m somewhere just shy of middle on my Broke/Hood rich curve.  Read: bank account is in positive digits.

b.) Use it when all I have left  in my wallet are those inexplicably sticky pennies.

3. I was just snarky with the bank’s customer service lady.  But not only was I snarky, I  did it in a New York accent.  Its my accent of choice when being snarky.  I won’t get into it but I assure yall she deserved it.

Title/Day 82

365 minus 52 equals 313

Day 52!!!

Bibliographic Info:

Where mathematics comes from : How the embodied mind brings mathematics into being

Lakoff, George

Basic Books, 2000

I can venture a guess as to where Math came from. Bowels of hell come to mind...

Summary (Book List Review):

With this ambitious book, Lakoff and Nunez hope to launch a whole new discipline: a cognitive science of mathematics. And they bid fair to bring it off, showing how all mathematical ideas–from simple counting to calculus–can be traced to the discrete workings of the human brain, and not to some transcendent realm of Platonic ideals. This approach to mathematics holds a number of surprises, as even ordinary arithmetic dissolves into conceptual metaphors grounded in the sensory-motor system. The entire panoply of mathematical symbols and calculations–precise and consistent–thus reflects the evolutionary history of brain neurons.

My Reaction:

I was hopeful because the cover of the book was kind of intriguing and not mathy looking. Yall I opened this book, saw, charts, graphs and angles and had had enough.  I read enough to know that the authors purport that babies–2 to 3 days old–can discriminate between groups with less objects or more objects.   They discuss the studies  that support this claim, how they were done etc.  Don’t know if I buy it. Math never felt innate to me.  Rather its always felt more alien, cold and distant like that Tilda Swinton chick. What is her deal anyway?

Get your daily dose-o-Dewey right here

Inspired by the 365Project,  I (a mild commitment-phobe in a 12 step program to recovery) have decided to jump in with my contribution.   Yes I’m a few days late but I didn’t start my 12 step program for procrastination yet.  I’ll leave that for 2013’s resolution. God Willing.

I thought about creating a whole ‘nother blog for this project but was concerned about my digital foot-print.  I’m sure it really doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things but still I’d rather my footprint to be in the dainty range rather than Sasquatch-ish. So I’m gonna blog this project right here on Life on Tuesday.

The premise of their project is that participants should “Document a year of your life by taking a photo a day”.  I wanted to do something a tad more involved and after a few days of brainstorming I came up with this ——->

A Dewey A Day

My 365Project—er 356Project (as it were) will involve 3 of my loves:

1) books (I could’ve said reading but didn’t because while I so love reading I also love books. I love the way they look on a shelf, on a night stand and how they feel in your hands.)

2) writing

3) the random (chance)

What kinda derring do is this you ask? This kinda derring do!  I’m gonna use a unique identifier generator to get 6 digits (the first 6 out of any string generated) and this will be my Dewey for that day.  I will then go retrieve that book (physically whenever possible but I’ll resort to e-copies if I must) and then I, your courageous (sometimes curmudgeonly) neighborhood librarian will post a mini report for that book! I’ll do this every day **gulp** for 356 days. Who will stick around to gawk at my antics? Whats’ the profile of a Dewey-A-Day audience member?

  • The curious; those who want to see what long forgotten gems might be unearthed
  • The Cliff Note scholars; those who wanna wax philosophical on themes and interpretations of Homer’s The Odyssey (no joke, that’s the book I got on my dry run, Dewey number 883.01) by just tuning in to my briefest of summaries
  • The librarian who wants to get more intimate with the Dewey system since everyone assumes we know it like we know our own phone number (seriously, who knows anybody’s phone number these days?)

So that’s the plan.  Some days I might have more to say than just my Project356 stuff so I might do a couple of entries on that day.  My entries will include the bibliographic info for the book, a summary and my reaction (could be a poem, picture, a drawing or a blank stare).

I’m gonna stick to this even when I don’t care to.  I’m gonna do it even when I’m fairly certain no one else gives a… **search mental Rolodex for something no one cares about**—> 1000 Grand candy bar.  Here we go folks! I’m excited! Are you!?  I know the books are!!!! 😀

Seriously, we were gonna sue for alienation of affection. Signed, The Books

Two-Kinds-of-People-Tuesday er Thursday

Hi there faithful few!

Of course I was supposed to post this offering on Tuesday but things happened so I waited ’til Thursday to post so as not to mess with the alliteration.  Alliteration is a big bad biyotch. You don’t wanna mess with her.

OK! There are two kinds of people in the world:

1. Those who have something to blog every. single. day.*

2. Those who have bupkis.

Can I borrow an idea? I'm kinda short. photo from kellymarion.com

Also! I might be on the verge of getting bonded out of my writers block bid.  I’ve got an idea brewing for me to participate in 365Project.   The premise is to blog something every day for a year.  Sure I’ll be a few days late but better late than never!  Yall keep koming by to kall on me!

I know, I know, but hey lets reclaim K’s! They wanna dump these zeroes and get with some heroes! Yay K! 😀

*It’s good reading! I aint mad at her, I love her blog!

photo from printfection.com

My Life on the L list

I usually don’t rip pages so directly from my life and blog them here but this little  doozy just happened to me about 10 minutes ago so if I’m on page 457 right this moment, this incident happened right around page 456.

So I’m walking down the street to the store (I work in a downtown area) on my lunch break. The wind is at my back, the sun on my face, ear buds are in and I’m jammin to some Amir Sulaiman.  Revelry.

All of a sudden something (someone?)  initiates contact with my person (yall are gonna hafta tolerate the legalese verbiage but for some reason I feel like I’m dictating for a police report).  At first I think it’s my imagination but no, there is someone in my periphery.  A tall, hulking figure.  I turn around to fully take in the situation and simultaneously the expletive laced inner narrative that is usually relegated to my head and doesn’t escape my lips liberates itself and flies out full force…The f*%@?!?!  I was truly startled yall.

I pulled out my earbuds and stared at the gentleman with a look of disgust mingled with a little fear.  It wasn’t a deserted area but there really weren’t many people around and we were close to an alley.  The long and short of it is that the guy was apparently a patron in our library and recognized me from there.

Me:  But dude, you can’t just do that!

Him: I was calling you but you ain’t hear me.

Me:  Calling me? You know me?

Him (looking thoroughly hurt and confused):  I’m sorry you don’t have to worry ’bout me bothering you ever again.

Me (still feeling violated but also like I was too harsh):  Yeah!  Not cool!

I then hurried on my way, looked back and he was gone.  This got me to thinking about working with the public.  I guess they really do feel like they know you and should have some kind of special access to you.   I work at the public library so my adoring public includes wino’s, ex-cons and folks who are one pickled pepper short of a full peck.  The cuckoo’s nest aint got nothin on us.  Did I owe it to the institution that I represent to be more  understanding to that personal space invading, groove interrupting, patron?

I dunno.  But I think I will cut celebs a little more slack.  Can we honestly expect them to be gracious and benevolent every single time they’re approached?  They have the most public job and we always expect them to be ‘on’.  On the other hand their perks are waaaaaaaaay better than that of a Librarian.  They get to jet set,  have ‘the help’ do everything they don’t wanna do, eat the best food AND get free stuff thrown at them.  What do I get? Access to a dazzling array of bookmarks and 1st dibs on the good broken down cardboard boxes?

So what have we learned today? Celebs DO owe it to us to appear to be happy as clams when we accost them in public.  Librarians, on the other hand, have the right to be surly and sassy.  Especially when we’re accosted in public.  I was jammin to Amir Sulaiman man.  Amir Sulaiman!

It's my pleasure to serve you. Can't you tell?

The portal to the rabbit hole is in my purse

Anchal*, this really old Indian woman who works in my building gave me this “special breed” tangerine.  We we’re on the elevator .  “Happy Holidays” she said with (was it? yes it was) an almost imperceptible conspiratorial nod and a mirthful twinkle in her eye.   She also gave me a mini Hershey bar.  I ate the Hershey right away.  Who doesn’t eat a Hershey’s right away?

The orange, on the other hand,  gave me pause; which is why it’s still in the vast wasteland otherwise known as my purse.  I mean what kinda trip was Anchal tryina send me on with this “special” orange?  While I pondered whether I should enjoy the pulpy holiday gift I did a photo shoot of it.  It was a a slow day at work and I have lots of construction paper at my job.  I’m a Librarian. Construction paper is par for the course in La vie en Bibliotheque.

it really is a lovely orange...

but I see your 'true' colors too. mmm hmm.

*Names have been changed to protect the enchanted Indian woman who’s been working at the Library for centuries.

The examined life. Through a pop culture lens (of course)

Because I want my life to be worth living, I will get to examining.  I don’t know if this is what Socrates had in mind but I’m pretty certain rigor has set in, so whats he gonna do about it?  No really, I have a lot of respect for Socrates.  He strikes me as brilliant but humble.  If I was alive back then, I’d probably subscribe to his blog.  And you know he’d be blogging.

So as I was saying, his idea of examination might include pouring over volumes written by Plato or Aristotle, visiting a monastery, watching grass grow or something that would require 2 qualities that have become antiquated in this digital/rock and roll/overly stimulated culture of ours—patience and an attention span.

I fancy myself a thinking gal.  Here are a few epiphanies that I arrived at regarding this blessed box-o-chocolates called life.

Sometimes life is like a round of Angry Birds,  you change your trajectory to one that seems like a long shot and that’s when you hit your target.

Sometimes life is like LOST,  you pay close attention and take good notes and in the end you still don’t get it.

Sometimes life is like Edward Cullen, cold and kinda weird looking but everyone else seems to love everything about it so you play along too.  (THE POWER that be knows I love life!  These are part epiphany, part jokey joke 😀  But Edward is funny looking.)

Sometimes life is like Kate Middleton and Price Edward’s wedding,  blah, blah, blah punctuated with bits of sweetness and hilarity.

Sometimes life is like the inevitable direction of the Kardashian/Humphries relationship, predictable.

Sometimes life is like Dancing With the Stars, and the meek (read: underdogs) inherit the earth—or the mirror ball trophy as it were.

Well Socrates, how’d I do? He may not be able to write a blog but maybe,  just maybe he can read one?

Anyone else care to philosophize on what life is like?

life is: sweet, crunchy, colorful, stale, boxed in...

I blog your pardon! Rude much?

If you’re not a blogger you can ignore this scathing indictment.   Oh yeah, its scathing.   But if you are a blogger allow me to bend your ear for a moment. You can bend it back when I’m done.

OK.  I thought I was gonna be able to keep on truckin’ without saying anything but I’m gonna hafta get it off my chest. Yes,  I’ve always looked askance at ‘netiquette’. **If there was a ‘whiny voice’ font I’d be using it here** —>Don’t all caps at me! Your subject line wasn’t descriptive enough! Blah, blah! blah!

Hey! If you’re that sensitive you don’t need to be out here on these interwebs.  You need go hang out with that chick from ‘Mean Girls’ who was all “I wish that I could bake a cake made out of rainbows and smiles and we’d all eat it and be happy” and the two of you need to work on getting tickets to the Oprah show…  Well seeing as that ship has sailed I guess Dr. Phil will hafta suffice.  **Shrug** What are ya gonna do?

Antyway back to my rant.   While I think netiquette is just a tad  much, I do think that fellow bloggers should recognize the plight of our ilk and act accordingly.  We’re all in the same boat.  We’re all writers who pour out bits of our soul in the blogoverse and then pretend to be blasé about whether we have an audience or not.  No not all of us are trying to achieve the blog world domination status that this sista has  managed.  But we do want to know that on occasion a person takes a look at our word craft and says “Hey! I like the cut of his/her jib (or nib if you will)! I like it enough to “like” them!”

I get it.  It takes time and energy to get a blog noticed and it doesn’t happen over night.  But here’s the thing that I’m getting at.  If I exerted the energy to like something you authored, it seems only right you should return the favor.  You’ve already noticed me!  I’m right there liking your stuff.  Take a gander at mine!  I’m sure there’s something there that you can like!  What?  Do you have strict quality control for your likes?  What are you the Anna Wintour of  “likes”?   What  are you on a “likes” budget? Don’t even get me started on not reciprocating subscription requests.

Ok.  I  realize I probably origami-d your ear.  Sorry bout dat.

But about my rant, everybody’s thinking it.  I just said it 😀

Origami Yoda says "Blog respectfully padwan".

Crossing over to the Sunny Side

For the past four years now I’ve considered myself an optimist in training.  Four years is a heckuva long time to be training at something and not be proficient at it so I had to be honest with myself–becoming an optimist, like deactivating my Facebook page and defacing some public property was sitting at the bottom of my to-do list unchecked.   I know what I have to do.  I hafta go cold turkey.  For the next 30 days (30 days to make/break a habit right?) I’m gonna replace a curmudgeonly act with a shiny happy one.  I’m gonna fake it til I make it folks!

Here are just a few examples :

  • I’m carrying a load of clothes from the dryer to the upstairs bedroom and one or two articles just insists on falling from the pile which is gonna mean 2 trips.

I WON’T— Curse the offending sock and unmentionable to burn for eternity in the laundry lower world.

I WILL–Smile and go retrieve the errant articles and exclaim “that extra trip up and down  the steps probably extended my life by .0065 nano seconds!  Yay laundry!”

  • I’m walking down the street when a stranger inserts his presence all up into my personal mind space and says “Smile! Its not that bad!”

I WON’T–Say “You know what I was just waiting for you to show up before  I smiled.  I woke up and didn’t know what was missing from my day and I said ‘Eureka self!  I know what it is.  You haven’t seen random, CD walkman in 2011 having, last-jheri-curl-standing guy yet! When you see him THEN you can smile'”.

I WILL–Smile and say “You know what sir you are absolutely right!”  And then I’ll utter words that will make me question my resolve to be chipper “I’m too blessed to be stressed!” Yes y’all I’m gonna go there.

  • I’m in my apartment when Simon’s maid comes over and asks me to look after the ailing artist from time to time and open his windows “so he can see God’s beautiful creation”.

I WON’T–Say “Where do they teach you to talk like this? In some Panama City “Sailor wanna hump-hump” bar, or is it getaway day and your last shot at his whiskey? Sell crazy someplace else, we’re all stocked up here.”

Oops. That’s  from ‘As Good As it Gets’.  But you get the picture.  I’m gonna join the kill em with kindness crew! You’ll be sorry!

Stay tuned!