What is the point of Twitter? This is a question i’ve heard asked quite a few times over the past month, most recently by one of my colleagues. ‘What is it for?’ he said, ‘What does it do?’ Like most people all he really knew was that each post to Twitter, or tweet, is restricted to a maximum of 140 characters. ‘What’s the point?’

The best answer i could give him is that Twitter is like a cross between a blog, instant messaging (IM) message service and bookmarking service, the balance between these three aspects depending on each user. To get a flavour of how differently Twitter can be used it may be useful to look at the extremes:

THE MICROBLOGGER

There are some users who stick to the original idea behind Twitter: they blog – or rather microblog – and they do nothing else. In particular, they don’t engage in chat with other users. To observe their timelines is to see a long line of statements radiating out into the universe. I’m reminded of radio broadcasts. Often these people tweet only intermittently and make little attempt to join their tweets together or provide context.

THE INSTANT MESSAGER

The timelines of the IM style users look like conversations. Most tweets are prefixed by the @ symbol which indicates a tweet directed to a specific person – although it can also be read by anyone else who follows both the sender and the addressee. Often the user will have lots of different chats going on at the same time.

THE BOOKMARKER

In the timelines of those who use Twitter primarily as a bookmarking service we see a proliferation not of @ symbols, but of links. Some users focus on particular areas of interest while others are far more eclectic, but with all these users there’s a relative absence of personal statements. There are also often quite a few tweets prefixed with “RT”, which stands for “Re-Tweet”. This is a method of recommending and rebroadcasting other users’ tweets.

These are, as i indicated above, extremes. In reality few people use Twitter exclusively in one way – indeed it’s the variation which makes it such a vibrant social network.

Microblogging is often frustrating because of the need for brevity and also because of the sheer volume of tweets; yet, despite this it’s also one of the things i most enjoy about Twitter. When people are good at it – and some people* are very good at it – the effect is somewhere between an epigram and a haiku. These four tweets for example i’m particularly fond of:

Rebeckyroberts: We washed the guinea pig today and then wrapped her in a white pillowcase. She looked like a furry faced baby Jesus.

Transguys: I watched two big bucks duke it out outside my bedroom window this evening. The doe continued her meal as she watched them fight for her.

BrianPike: Cat appeared this morning with a ‘35p’ price ticket stuck to his bottom. Can’t help feeling he’s undervaluing himself.

Rebeckyroberts: Wilma has been delivered. She is a magnificent bone crushing bitch! She has a conveyor belt even, and farts out diesel fumes! I love her!

* I am not one of these

“It was a dark and stormy night — but not so dark that she couldn’t see across the roiling sea to the Land of the Rising Bear, emerging like a mirage in the distant mist, or so stormy that she couldn’t hear the anguished cry of a hundred million tortured souls waiting for the one they called the Rogue Huntress, their hope, their salvation.  Armed with God and Truth, she was the leader of the phalanx, the sharp tip of the sword, and she strode out across the barren land, soft-soled and sure-footed.

She smiled in her sleep …  it was good to be her.”

My apologies to the much-maligned Sir Edward Bulwer-Lytton, who was once the most admired and popular writer in Victorian England — even rivaling the ubiquitous Mr. Charles Dickens.  I haven’t read Sarah Palin’s autobiography, but I understand there is a competition on for the best Sarah Palin (or rather, the best Sarah Palin’s ghostwriter) parody.  Which brings up the interesting question of whether Palin’s ghostwriter had to use Palin’s words, or whether the bloody mess (“As the soles of my shoes hit the soft ground, I pushed past the tall cottonwood trees in a euphoric cadence, and meandered through willow branches that the moose munched on.”) belongs wholly to the ghostwriter.  Given how incoherent Palin sounded on the campaign trail, I suppose it’s actually the ghostwriter who should be made to read Sister Miriam Joseph’s The Trivium. But maybe it’s all intentional, and the ghostwriter is actually quite devious and is trumping everyone on the parody, a sly Tina Fey on paper …

“It was a dark and stormy night; the rain fell in torrents, except at occasional intervals, when it was checked by a violent gust of wind which swept up the streets (for it is in an obscure northern Colorado town that our scene lies), rattling along the house-tops, and fiercely agitating the flimsy strings of Christmas lights that struggled against the darkness.  Through the paper shreds and abandoned hay of one of the obscurest quarters of this obscure Colorado town, a furry critter, evidently of the order Rodentia, genus Cavia, species Cavia porcellus, was wending her solitary way.”

More apologies to Sir Edward Bulwer-Lytton …

Guinea Pig: Pet Shop Private Eye #1, Hamster and Cheese

Q. What computer programs and/or what kind of pens, pencils and brushes do you use?

A. I use a blue Col-Erase pencil to lay in rough shapes and compositions, and then a mechanical pencil for the more detailed drawing (blasphemy, I know, but it works for me!). Then I go over the drawing lightly with a kneadable eraser before inking. For inking, I usually use a combination of brush pens with different widths and tips. They’re less messy to use than a brush, but depending on the scale, sometimes I’ll break out my Winsor & Newton Series 7 brush (size 0 – 3), dipped in Deleter Black. I like Microns for inking more mechanical-looking things, too. Oh, and Photoshop with a Wacom Intuous tablet allows me to cheat a bit, clean up linework, and fix mistakes!

Q. What music (if any) do you listen to while drawing?

A. I like a lot of guitar or piano, something with a good beat or nice atmosphere. Often, I listen to podcasts, like This American Life, or A Way With Words, BBC documentaries. I’m a fan of TV on DVD, and will sometimes put on a show I’ve already seen and listen to it in the background—there’s always a good rotation going.

Q. What are your favorite comics right now, either online or in print?

A. I’m devouring Shaun Tan’s work right now, especially Tales from Outer Suburbia. I’m also really liking Mouse Guard by David Peterson.

Q. What comics did you read growing up?

A. I loved Calvin & Hobbes as a kid, and would marathon-read my dad’s collection in his study. I also distinctly remember discovering Tintin at my school’s library and marathon-reading those too. Hmm, do we notice a pattern?

Q. Did you go to college for art and/or comics, or for something else? Which college?

Spread from Guinea Pig: Pet Shop Private Eye #1, Hamster and Cheese

A. I studied illustration at Pratt Institute in Brooklyn, NY.

Q. What is the next convention you plan to go to?

A. I’ll be set up at the Museum of Comic & Cartoon Art (MoCCA) Festival in 2010!

Q. What is your favorite comics convention?

A. MoCCA is probably my favorite, for the people that show and the people who attend. It’s altogether a great environment, and you can meet all sorts of interesting people face to face!

See,  I don’t even know what to name the title of this post… I really don’t want to write at this moment, but I want a new FRESH blog post on my page… If  that makes any sense?

So since I’m really not in the mood to write anything interesting at this moment,I will post funny/cute/creative pictures up because I have nothing better to do… I’ve been wanting to take some pictures of my new work but I’m without a camera at the moment. I really should be resting up for school tommorow morning but..ugh.

BRING ON THE PICTURES!!

I´m not a zoologist, but I imagine most rodents will spend the winter sleeping most of the time (if not hibernating), and possibly making short trips in the cold wintry world outside to find something to eat, although I guess a good store of food hidden safe in your nest would be preferable. But that´s not what Mr Plinge does.

After spending most of the year pretending he´s going to die any time soon now, he´s gone all lively and full of activity. He even eats most of the stuff I give him, even though he still complains noisily when he thinks it´s high time for another lettuce leaf. And he´s taken to lying in the hay instead of in his house. It might be because he can watch over all the food he´s got, but then, he´s been known to simply move all his food inside the house if he wanted to keep it close.

Maybe he´s trying to show us that we shouldn´t forget about him when we go shopping for Christmas presents?

Kelsey’s logo is done! Good luck at the show today

I tried out a white outline on this logo and I think I like it. I don’t think it would work for everything, but this definitely had that bold, bright look that deserved an outline. It really makes the bunnies pop and gives the whole thing more of a graphic feel.

Ok ok…I am so in love with outlines….and lines in general…I have to hold back with the bunnies or everything would be outlined 5 times

Some progress on Holly’s angoras

draft for Cottontail Cottage….still in progress!

I NEEEED to scan in my sketchbooks! So bad. I can’t wait until the semester from hell is over….Christmas break sounds so heavenly right now.

We have seen great progress today. All the wood around the quad was finally finished, the walls have started to be painted in “rustic orange”, the central grass area has its concrete retaining wall and even the guttering is being installed. So as you will see from the photo of the quad area, it is really coming together. Those who have seen the other photos on the blogs will see what a difference a few days and weeks can make. Needless to say, I looked like I’d been “tango’ed” by the end of the session.

Everyday we have our lunch just by the school classrooms. So the other big difference from the introductory video is the set of classrooms that are up and being used. The kids are using them and they no longer have to make the very long journey into the next town.

We stopped by the miraflores shop where a lovely lady sells sweets, lollies and knitted hats and scarves. (see photo of her and Claire A)  I’m tempted to say that the children don’t need any more ways to decay their teeth (they all seem to have an incredibly sweet tooth). Robin, my adopted mad-boy has terrible teeth and I hope he will be making serious use of the dental suite (pardon the pun) which will be the room on the far right  of the quad picture.

All the computer equipment has arrived and the internet connection is being installed over the next few days. At the grand opening after the end of next week there will be a skype video linkup with Bupa House for the grand opening if all goes well – which will be really cool, so that more people will be able to take part.

For my squeamish friends, the restaurant last night looked brilliant (see photo) but they didn’t serve guinea pig. So Shelley,my PA, is talking to me again. Who knows we may get to try it before we leave?

Tomorrow we have more work. Some people will be teaching the kids some english while the rest finish off some of the outstanding jobs. We also have the presentation by the children to us at the end of their school week and we will be performing a BUPA version of the YMCA song made famous by the Village People.  With verses in English and Spanish plus actions etc, all prayers for our deliverance will be welcome. Sadly Claire A has threatened to video it and publish unless we pay her a lot of money!

Mark Ralf

Wowsers, things are changing quickly!  I’ve got a new mummy, a new daddy and a brand new home!!!

Yesterday lunch time I was nibbling away on some food when two new people came along and said they were going to be my new parents!  I cuddled onto my new mummy and she seems really nice and warm and caring.  I was a bit nervous at first, but then I started to talk to them – they seem to like me.  Next, when mummy was talking to someone I had a cuddle with my new daddy.  He seemed as nervous as me!  But we got on well and then we went into a big metal box with wheels, which made a lot of strange and weird noises.  To begin with I talked with mummy and daddy but I think that mummy was concentrating on something and I think daddy fell asleep.  So I thought I would do the same as daddy and I had a nap.

I awoke in a strange place where I had never been before but it seems really nice and friendly.  I live in a nice big cage, which has my own little house in and I’ve got a lot of straw to play in and eat – its very fun!! Mummy got me out of my cage and played with me when we got into my big new house and I played on daddys chest and he fed me some carrot – it was amazing!! Then mummy wanted to play with me and feed me some and I went onto her chest – I was so excited I accidently made a mess of her top – thankfully I don’t think it was her favourite!

I then went back into my cage and I had another nap and when I came back out and had a look at the big glass hole in the window the sky had gone dark.  Daddy was doing something on a piece of plastic which seemed to cause him some stress and so I went and played with him and he seemed to really like it.  Then I played with mummy again and I got really excited again and accidently made another mess!! They put me back in my cage after a bit more playing and then I had some sleep for the night.

I like my new home, its nice and warm. 

lauren 1 swine flu 0!!!

jane’s bunnies are almost done

tirza’s bunnies are almost done too! woo, arent i productive

and the cage tags logo! i’ve started on the website too

molly is ordering this logo for a friend who just got some rex bunnies. looove!
i realized drawing this that rex don’t really look like rex without the rolls. haha

carrie’s mini horse, for a logo & holiday card

carrie’s lionhead

dawn’s logo….this might change though as i have a cute idea I want to try out thanks to something i learned about dawn’s lionheads!

victory lane’s draft…it’s going to be a tri!

ak9’s jumping sheltie linework

and don’t forget to check out the first design of what i HOPE will be many christmas card designs.
if you have any breed requests, send them to xxhugabunny@gmail.com

order the cards here! and check out the rest of the shop here

Well, Guinea Moon of course. This funny parody by Take 180 parodies the first trailer of New Moon as well as the Birthday Party scene, over exaggerating Bella’s “papercut”!

Visit my Mahalo page for Top 10 Christmas Presents

Farewell furry friend.

Let us take a moment to remember Buddy Duffy. In this house you need to be one tough son of a bitch to make it through the day, and Buddy you outlasted nearly every small mammal that we have ever come in contact with. (Minus the very hearty Mt. Pleasant alley rat)
You drove vehicles, you swam and you endured countless trips in the car with droves of children eager to have you on their lap. I look at your rarely used plastic exercise ball and miss you already. I am sorry that we were not better owners. Please try not to bear us too much ill will. We tried (well not that hard) to give you a nice life. Just don’t come back and haunt us.

Only Holly, would let me try out a new curling iron in her. She has the most beautiful healthy, thick , and shinny one length hair I have ever seen.  I often tell her that its worth a lot of money , and she should be weary of people who want to snip it off  and sell it on a black market!

I love the way the hair turned out!  I can’t wait to use this curling iron on a Photo shoot.

So lucky to have her as my guinea pig. Holly did her own makeup in the photos above, she is incredibility talented. She has assisted me on a Me to We photo shoot in the past. Here is a look down memory lane. Photography by Richard Dubois.

“Poodle!” I said, proudly displaying the six skeins of kinky, freshly frogged yarn.

“What did you take apart?” DH asked.

“Remember that sweater I wore this morning?”

On 1 January 2009, my New Year resolution was to buy no new clothes for the year, with the corollary that I would also actively pare down the existing wardrobe.  I fell off the wagon with a solid thump in late March …  It was a frosty morning, and there was melting ice and snow on the sidewalks and streets from a spring storm that had blown through the day before.  I had a steaming mug of coffee in one hand, a volume of Henry James short stories in the other, and I was thinking that perhaps a dessert would be in order.  Then I saw IT – from across the street, a horizontally pleated black-and-white sheath in the beautifully curved window of a high-end boutique.  The store wasn’t open yet, so I thought it was safe to take a closer look — and besides (I told myself), it really was time that I, an architectural historian, had a good look at the restoration work  the owners had done on the Art Deco building.  Unfortunately, the saleswoman saw me …  and she opened the door and assured me that she was indeed open and wouldn’t I like to try on the dress because she was sure she could find one in my size.

I had not been inside the store since its restoration — in its previous incarnation it had been a schlocky costume shop well-known for its Halloween displays of mannequins with hatchets buried in various body parts.  The shop (mercifully) relocated, and the building, which had originally been a fine clothing store, returned to its roots.  Like all smart business owners, the new tenant understood her target clientele — women of a certain age who valued quality and longevity over ephemeral trends, who appreciated a low-key shopping experience, and who had the money to expend on the services offered.  It was a warm and inviting space, a hint of  luxury and  perhaps of the boudoir.  The sales staff were properly mature women — no teenagers or twenty-somethings telling me what would look “so cute!” on me.  They sized me up as someone who needed a gentle but firm hand; they knew their business.

My saleswoman didn’t in fact find the dress in my size, but she found an entirely different frock — a black-and-white polka-dotted number with a lovely draped back — in my size.  And despite the sports bra and the clogs I was wearing that day, the dress was so unexpectedly chic and sophisticated that I thought I was chic and sophisticated.  I bought the dress with the understanding that I would take it with me to London and wear it to some fancy restaurant.  Or something along that line.

Eight months later, I still haven’t worn the dress.  I just don’t have the right shoes, see.  My fashionista GF tells me I need to have some heel-y sling-backs.  Well …  what do I know?

On the other hand, except for that one fabulous dress, I have stuck to the resolution.  The interesting thing is that it has become increasingly easy not to buy, because it has become a habit.  There is something soothing about looking in the closet and seeing the essentials, and thinking that perhaps I have gotten to the point that I do indeed dress for myself and not for other women.  That is, until I catch a glimpse of the fashion industry.

I admit to liking Ralph Lauren.  I once owned a navy blue riding skirt, the kind with a full sweep that should be worn by someone tall and slender, preferably with impeccably groomed hair and shiny black boots.  I was of course not tall or slender or of Anglo-Saxon descent, but nevertheless I thought I could be part of his myth-making.  And that is what Ralph Lauren does: he is a master at  creating a mood and a story that reflects, manipulates, and directs the American psyche and its understanding — and interpretation — of itself.  I hate his current “Depression chic” with its ragged jeans and overalls, floral house dresses, newsboy hats — all worn with stiletto shoes, of course, and probably diamonds too.  It’s a perverse imagery of economic hardship, then and now, of what poverty looks like, feels like, tastes like.  Slumming is weird.

So I keep going into my sweater pile and consigning various projects to the frog pond, as though this would somehow make me less of a consumer.  It doesn’t, of course, because most of us are not producers and haven’t been for a century or so.  But like Ralph Lauren, I also construct stories, mainly for myself, but also for others.  It’s how I know where I am.

Opie and friends, heading NE

some progress on tirza’s bunnies….im liking the pinkish light on her angora, i might try to use that on some future logos

penny’s cute little lionhead

janet’s bunnies, now with a velveteen lop!

jane’s bunnies…love that little dwarf! smooshy face!

rough draft for ak9 athletic

all for now!

www.caringforguineapigs.com

www.caringforguineapigs.com

www.caringforguineapigs.com

www.caringforguineapigs.com

I currently own a guinea pig and I take very good care of him. I have done my research and I know a LOT about taking care of guinea pigs. If you have any questions about guinea pig care, please feel free to ask me. I love animals.

If you want to make money online, click here: http://tinyurl.com/yfk7wqj

I finally tried cuy!

What is cuy, you might ask?  Well, cuy is the name in Peru for guinea pig.  In other countries it has another name, but I think “cuy” is from the Incan times.  They use the word cuy because of the sound that the guinea pigs make.

Anyways, hereabouts it’s a delicacy, especially up in the highlands.  It used to be a sacred dish and would be part of religious ceremonies.  Sometimes cuy would even be sacrificed to the gods when an important person died!

Piquante de Cuy

On the weekend I tried “piquante de cuy,” which literally means “spicy cuy.”  The presentation was not great, it was like at a barbecue or something.

Eric, holding it by its little arms

The one thing we all quickly realized about cuy is that there is no meat on it!  It was so hard to get even a little bit to eat, you had to pretty much chew and try to get some flavour out.  It might have been good in stew…

Look at this tiny little piece of meat!

It really is a hunt to find the little cuy’s juicy little meatstuffs.

So, now that I can check that off my to-do list, I have decided that I need pet guinea pigs.  I could get a little cage or keep them in the backyard with a big sign that says “Guinea Pig Sanctuary.”  I think I’d like to name them Freedom and Liberty, but one of the volunteers suggested instead Salt and Pepper.

What do you think?

Angel - She made it!

Thanks to my daughter’s guinea pig, this column almost never made it to print.  “Why?” you ask? Imagine getting a square peg stuck in a round hole. Now imagine getting a guinea pig stuck in your printer. See the problem?

We really thought she was done for. After jumping out of my girl’s hand and nose-diving into the paper-feeder, we assumed the worst. She didn’t move or squeal at all, and I couldn’t gauge her distress from the look in her eyes because she landed head first in a black hole of circuits and wires. All I could see was her butt, and I couldn’t quite reach it.

I sent my traumatized 10-year-old on a hunt for daddy’s screwdrivers and she came back with two handfuls, none of which were worth their weight in steel. Now I’m starting to panic. I don’t want this thing dying on my watch! Especially knowing my girl depends on me to fix everything and make it all better. So to ensure she didn’t lose that faith in me, I responded to her hyperventilating with my ‘outside voice’ and some pretty strong words, as I demanded she get out of the room and shut up so I could think!

And my thinking consisted of how scared this guinea pig must be, and how her airway was probably obstructed by all the dust she swallowed on her way down. Was her neck broken? Were her tiny little birdie-feet still intact?  Should I just take the whole printer outback and bury it?

Then Angel squealed, and I knew there was still time. I grabbed the top of the printer and ripped it off the way the Hulk would take off the top of a car. I was able to see her, but I still couldn’t reach her. So I cracked off a few more pieces of plastic and whipped them at the closed door, subtly hinting to the sobs on the other side.

Now I have a perfect shot at grabbing this thing. I reached in, wrapped my hand around her back-end, and gave a gentle tug. She whinnied in agony and all I pulled out was a handful of black fur. Obviously, her head was stuck and she was perfectly content to die there. By this time, I’ve got tears welling up in my own eyes making it even harder to operate. My pulse was racing, sweat was pouring, makeup running in my eyes, I was about to have a complete breakdown. And then the I was saved by the proverbial bell.

I heard my husband’s truck pulling into the driveway – I was never so happy to see him!  (I look at him the way my daughter looks at me – he can fix anything!) So I rushed out to meet him – no hug, no kiss, no ‘welcome home.’ Just a bunch of jumbled curse words I spit out between breaths. I think he understood we had an emergency because he followed me without trying to carry on a conversation. Of course, the way I was yanking on his arm, he didn’t have much choice.

So we followed the trail of screwdrivers and plastic scraps back the hallway, bypassed the frantic kid curled up on the floor, and arrived face-to-face with (what was left of) the printer. He looked at the rodent, raised one eyebrow, and shook his head. Without questioning me, he stroked Angel’s back and talked to her for just a moment, and then the little wench effortlessly backed out of the deathtrap we thought she was stuck in!

Were they showing a good movie in there or what? Why did she put us through that? And why would she succumb to a calm, loving tone rather than the hysterical hand that feeds her? I guess it’s true, the world will never understand the female mind.

So I have no printer now, but I do have a happy little girl with a half-bald guinea pig. And fortunately, the trauma wasn’t as deeply seeded as I thought. My daughter is back to normal, and Angel, well, let’s just say she’s traded her interest in electronics for a life of safety in her dreary little cage. And no matter how bored she gets, Solitaire is out of the question!