Disclaimer: Despite my nagging sense that this blog could come back to haunt me in a Miss Manners column, it’s a story that needs to be told. So rest assured: if you think one of the Don’ts below apply to you, it doesn’t. We loved your gift and treasure it deeply.

As the holiday shopping season approaches and the Agent of Chaos’ fourth month has past, I feel I’ve become something of an expert on baby gifts. Between the baby shower, visits from friends and family, and our first big trip back to the home planet (complete with a lovely party that felt like a second baby shower) we’ve received a plethora of presents, an embarrassment of kindnesses, several shopping bagsful of goodies… all of which lead me to the conclusion that it’s really, really hard to shop for babies. Why? Because every last item is so damned adorable. It’s all small, it’s all cute, it’s all got woodland and sea animals and little bells and big-eyed creatures, and it’s all designed to make both giver and receiver spontaneously burst into a chorus of “AWWW!” I said “Awwww!” to nearly everything we’ve gotten, and I meant every single outburst. But then, upon returning home, I must wonder: How long must I keep the latest batch of cuteness before passing it on to another lucky soul?

NOTE: If the baby registry’s still going, buy from it!

Do NOT Buy…

• 

  Resist the temptation to buy stuffed animals!

  Stuffed animals. They’re cute; they’re easy; they sit on a shelf for years and collect dust. Immediate family—grandparents, especially— will take care of all the baby’s stuffed animal needs. Instead: Buy a cute toy that has edges that crinkle, parts that move, or little mirrors, like Jacques the Peacock.
• Goodnight, Moon and/or The Very Hungry Caterpillar. The new parents already own it. Trust me. I’ve had four copies of GM and three of TVHC come through the door, and I got another just last week. They’re terrific books, but they’re on everyone’s list. Instead: Check a list of Caldecott Medal books and buy the titles you remember from your childhood. My favorite gift book is Hug, by Jez Alborough. It’s sweet, funny, and has been known to make grown men cry.
• Clothing in gender-specific colors. I like pink. Love it, in fact. My wedding dress was pink. If I get one more pink anything, though, I won’t be held responsible for my actions. Instead: Buy green, yellow, orange, anything but pink or blue.
• 

  Legwarmers for the tiny dancer

  Baby pants. A personal pet peeve of mine. Pulling up pants over squirmy legs is a pain in the diaper. Instead: Baby Legwarmers, which keep her little chubby thighs warm AND stay on during diaper changes. Even better: one pair can fit a newborn from hip to toe, and a toddler from thigh to ankle, so she’ll wear them for a long time.

DO buy…

• Something practical, but boring. If you’re parent, think about what you overlooked after childbirth; if not, use common sense. When in doubt as to the brand of items below, I always err on the side of anything labeled “natural,” “organic,” or “something-free.” Some useful gift suggestions:
  • Newborn-sized diapers
  • Gift card to Diapers.com (or Walgreens)
  • Washcloths
  • Baby-sized fingernail clippers
  • If Mom is nursing and you’re close to enough to get a personal item, nursing pads will be MUCH needed. In addition, eyedrops, chapstick and a big water bottle will be invaluable—breastfeeding dehydrates like you wouldn’t believe.
  • If the birth was vaginal and you’re close enough to buy a personal item, maxi pads, ibuprofen and witch hazel pads will be worth their weight in gold for the first month.
  • Baby wipes
  • Food: bring a prepared dinner in a reusable container. Just make sure to call first.
• 

  Itzbeen one week since you cried for milk...

  Baby gadgets. The Baby Industrial Complex is awash in safety devices, gewgaws and other bright flashy things, and they’re a great way to exercise your creative gift-buying freedom. Websites like www.thinkgeek.com have loads of baby gadgets that, at first blush, seem silly, but in reality are terrific… and more than likely, new parents will not have considered them as registry-necessary. Just be sure to include the gift receipt if the parents aren’t into it.
  • Itzbeen: This handy device times the baby’s day-to-day tune-ups: sleep, diaper, feeding, the last breast fed (right or left) and a few wildcard timers. I used it in the hospital to time when I’d last taken a Vicodin, and we’ve used it since to time the baby’s naps, as well as when we last made a bottle (Is this bottle an hour or three hours old?). Thanks to Tony and Randi for that!
  • Bottle Warmer: Better than the microwave, and more convenient than the stovetop.
  • Grobag Egg Thermometer: We received this from my mother-in-law’s cousin, and while the packaging is ludicrous—implying that the cute little glowing egg will save your baby from crib death—it actually is kind of nice to have at her bedside. Sometimes it’s hard to know how cold or warm a room really is (especially when you’re overheated from breastfeeding dehydration) so seeing the egg glow blue is a good indicator that she needs an extra blanket.
  • 

    Yellow Alert: Baby is snug like the rug bug.

    Sleep Sheep or other white noise machine. Or if you’re super-techie, the Voice-Activated Crib Light w/ Womb Sounds. I don’t own it, but I want it. When your baby begins to cry, it switches on a colored light and plays womb noises. How cool is that?
  • Easy Expression Hands-Free Pumping Bra: Allows a breastfeeding mom to let go of the bottles while double-pumping. Fricking BRILLIANT. Thanks to the friend of the NICU mom who bought it as a gift, or I’d never have known it existed.
  • Alternative Diaper Starter Set: While this could seem like an unwelcome hint that the parent shouldn’t use disposables, if they’ve expressed interest in it, it’s a good gift. Many parents might not realize how far technology has brought the non-disposable diaper world, or maybe they just don’t want the upfront cost of trying them out. GDiapers are great for partially disposable diapers, and I’ve also heard great things about Bummis cloth diapers.

Existen muchas maneras de interpretar la palabra “crecer”.  La Real Academia Española la define como el aumento natural o añadido de la materia. A un nivel más abstracto, se define en una persona como la obtención de mayor autoridad, importancia o atrevimiento.

Crecer va más allá de lo que se puede definir en palabras. A todos no han dicho alguna vez, “¿¡Porque no maduras de una vez!?”, “Necesitas crecer.”, “Ve, encuéntrate, descúbrete.” y siempre nos duele pensar que no somos suficientes a los ojos de otra persona. Claro, hay a quienes les importa menos y a quienes les importa más, pero siempre hay un momento en el que pega, y cuando lo hace es como un martillo a la cabeza.

Hay ciertos momentos en los que sentimos que no vamos hacia ninguna parte, que no tenemos paredes, piso o techo y que además tenemos vendados los ojos. Esa incertidumbre que sentimos es el temor al cambio, es el saber que lo que hoy es mañana puede no ser más.

Los grandes momentos de catársis en la vida llevan consigo una cierta cantidad de dolor, un dolor de saber que lo que tenemos y queremos ya no es suficiente, que queremos o necesitamos un cambio. Ser fuerte, encontrar las distracciones y los pequeños detalles de la vida es lo que nos ayuda a través de esos momentos.

Un día te das cuenta de que estás terminando la universidad, que estás totalmente fuera de tu esquema y que parece que nada de lo que haces te sale bien. Pero has encontrado poco a poco y situación a situación que no eres tan pequeño como pensabas, que si hay un mundo más allá de lo que conocías y que puedes con las cosas que antes te asustaban.

Toda la vida está llena de incertidumbre y de momentos que no sabemos qué hacer, pero siempre podemos estar seguros de nosotros y lo que podemos hacer. Porque en ese crecer está el encontrarse, encontrar los horizontes y características que nos hacen ser nosotros, cómo enfrentamos, vemos y vivimos la vida.

Todo cambia y todo permanece, lo importante es saber qué es lo que queremos cambiar y qué es o que queremos conservar.

Llevo cuatro meses fuera de casa y lejos de la gente que quiero, estar sólo me ha enseñado a buscar lo que quiero y dejar lo que no quiero. He llorado, he reído, he visto y he conocido. Siempre hace falta algo y el condimento de la vida está en el viaje, la búsqueda de ese “algo” que hace falta.

Atmosfera de la teza a fost neaşteptat de liniştita . Am primit subiectele şi toţi au început sa le rezolve fără nici un comentariu. Trist! Parca era mai frumos sa se aprindă un mic scandal . Glumeam! Eu am terminat printre primii ,ca de obicei ,dar nu cred ca iau mai mult de 8 , as zice. Acum depinde de aprecierea doamnei profesoare .Timpul teoretic de lucru a fost de 50 de minute , dar cel practic a atins cota de 30 .

My sister lives, basically, in the middle of nowhere, but it makes for brilliant sunsets.

We’ve been married for 16 years today. She is my ubuntu. My meaning. I am because we are. I can tell you how much I love her and never get even close to telling you how I really feel. How she makes me feel. How she makes me better than what I am. I can never tell you How I Love My Wife…

How do I love my wife? In so many ways…

I love how I never want to write about my love for her because I know that I can never say it just the way I want to. And how I know that I still wouldn’t be able to say or write it the right way even if I was more gifted than Shakespeare. How words can never tell the story of my love for her. Because words have boundaries.

I love how I travel all over the world and still eat in my hotel room because nothing is worth experiencing without her next to me. How every scene is so much more beautiful and every morsel tastes so much better when she can see it and taste it. I love how she doesn’t get why I eat alone my hotel room.

I love how she holds me and asks me what is wrong when I don’t know how to say what is wrong. When all that is wrong is that the world just got a little bit too heavy. And that all I need is her arms around me to make me feel safe and strong again.

I love how I listen to that stupid Hero song of Enrique and cry because I just want to be her hero. I just want to wipe away the tears. I want to kiss away the pain. I just want to stand by her forever. Because she always takes my breath away.

I love how she has to bite her lip when she laughs when I do my silly South African accents. And how she laughs with no sound and the tears runs down her face. And she’s laughing at my stupid jokes.

I love how she pretends to need me even though she is so much stronger than me. I know she doesn’t climb mountains. She will make the mountains come to her. And that they will just obey.

I love how she speaks with a “little voice” when she gets back from shopping and asks me “Don’t you want to help me carry?” And how I know there will be a little something in there for me.

I love how I try to be funny and tell silly jokes and how I peep at her to see if she is laughing. And how I carry on until I see the beauty of her smile. And the happiness in her laughter.

I love how I used to hate Tom Cruise for taking the best line with “You complete me”. But how I know he didn’t even get close. She makes me. Not complete. She just makes me. Me.

I love how she laughs and shakes her head and says “What am I going to do with you?” whenever I make one of my suggestive comments. And how I do it just to hear those words.

I love how people make fun of me for always talking about my wife whenever they travel with me. How they poke fun at me for missing my wife and always phoning her.

I love how I look at her and compare every girl I see to her. And how no one compares even if they are on the pages of magazines or in leading roles in the movies. 

I love how she is the centre of our universe. How she holds everything together and give meaning to our family. Stronger than gravity or any law of science.

I love how my smile gets bigger the closer I get to home. How I just want to run and laugh because I know she will be there and everything will be just fine.

I love how she asks me to tickle her back and that I have no hope in hell of getting one back. But how I don’t mind because I just love touching her.

I love how she wanted me even though she could get anyone she wanted. And how she stays with me even though she can get anyone she wants. 

I love seeing her walk and watching her when she doesn’t know I am looking. And how I still have to build up the courage to ask her out.

I love how her hand feels in mine when we walk with the girls. I love how I touch her while she’s walking and kiss her on her cheek.

I love how I tell her I love her whenever I see her. Even if I just came into the kitchen from the lounge. I love how she says it back. 

I love how my heart still races when I kiss her when we make out. How her lips make me forget everything that makes me mad.

I love how she had a picture of Sawyer from Lost on her screen and how she doesn’t know I have one of her on mine.

I love how she acts all needy when she wants me to get her some Coke or crisps. And how I love getting it for her.

I love how it sometimes feels as if I am going to burst because our love feels like it is bigger than the cosmos.

I love how she buys me the new Springsteen album even though she hates his music because I overplayed it.

I love how she used to remind me of Sinead O’Connor, but how Sinead now reminds me of my wife.

I love how she is the last person I speak to before I fly off and the first person I phone when I land.

I love how I still get butterflies when she reaches for my hand without her knowing she is doing it.

I love how she eggs me on to go play with the girls even though she knows it will drive her crazy.

I love how she is the first thing that touches my lips in the morning and the last thing at night.

I love how she holds me and looks into my eyes when she tells me that she loves me more.

I love how I know why John was clinging to Yoko like that on the Rolling Stones cover.

I love how she phones me 4 or 5 times a day even if I can only take a call or two.

I love how I know what it means to love someone more than I love life.

I love how I know every part of her body but still don’t know enough.

I love how she completes my sentences and makes more sense.

I love how she puts her hand on my leg when we go for a drive.

I love how she believes in me even when I have my doubts.

I love how I would rather be at home than anywhere else.

I love how I do everything just to impress her.

I love how I know real love because of her.

I love how she loves me.

I love how I love her.

I love her.

I love how I can write another million words and still not tell you how I love my wife.

_________________________________

I can write and write about my baby and never get enough or ever get close to telling you how I feel. Here are a few more about my baby and me:

Quick! Pull My Finger!

She Had To Wee

The Girl I Didn’t Like (or How I Met My Wife)

Ubuntu (or It’s Like Breathing)

Breaking News

I.
Shortly
after we celebrated
the boxer who nabbed
another world title,
we gaped at his wife
who sobbed in church,
and swapped stories
about the other woman.
Seems like the slaughter
in the twelfth round
spilled outside
the boxing ring,
to the delight of
our new intellectuals
(a boy and the daughter
of the dead matriarch),
who ran out of opinions
when the flood
of philantrophic acts
subsided. Nobody
had forseen
that the frenzy
would be
interrupted
by faint gunfire
and cries from
fifty-seven dead,
buried somewhere
far from sight.
After all, we imagined,
a tragedy isn’t a tragedy
if it doesn’t happen
on TV.

II.
And so we heard
about the massacre
that occured in a place
where Progress is a forgotten word,
where victory
belongs to the lord who owns more
gold and bullets
than the lord next-door.
The killing spree was quiet
and swift, muffled
by the bloodied soil
turned into a secret grave
for men and women
who were just passing through,
and who never thought
that doing what they had to do
was a crime punishable by death.
He who uttered
the order to shoot knew
that this, too, shall be ignored–
this was but a fair exchange
for a job well done
a few years past, when he made sure
that all ballots bore
the president’s name.
When he visited the palace
of his queen, she shook
his hand to seal the deal.

III.
What of good news? Just when some
have boldly proclaimed
that where we come from
everyone’s a hero (says ABS, GMA,
and of course, CNN),
we find ourselves
stunned that such savagery
still exists
in this day and age. Perhaps
we always knew,
we just failed to imagine
that the worst tragedies
are those that strike
after momentary victories.
On TV, we watch an
all-too-familiar spiel:
I am sorry, all will be well. But
we know enough
to see what the camera doesn’t show–
trembling hands smeared
with the blood of the dead.

Seeing as it is somewhat ridiculous to work in the IT industry and not have a blog I have now set up a blog. Of course I am sure I automatically lose geek points from the fact I’m not hosting WordPress on my own webpage but then my personal website is currently a horrific mass of html with the rare glimpse of CSS that I haven’t touched since I was about 18, all in all not something I would want to direct people towards.

A short history of me. I currently work as a Senior Software Developer in Exeter, predominantly C# though I’m branching out to Java (when I can cope with wrestling with Maven and NetBeans) and Scala (see Java but with extra bonus wrestling).

In my spare time, I’m a wannabe novelist. I dabble in Science Fiction and Fantasy though I’m beginning to branch into crime novels and detective thrillers with a Supernatural twist. I’ve also for a long time been working on a software tool for writers which has seen little development owing to the fact I keep changing my mind about what it should do.

Brilliant Shan sent me this article via e-mail. 

o.O

Let us review the names, shall we?

If I was one of these children, I would hope to have one of the following names: Patrick or Stephen – - at least they’re normal.  Malachai and Eli aren’t so bad…if it weren’t for the fact they were named after Children of the Corn.  Really?  REALLY?

There is Peppermint, poor child. But I would rather be a piece of candy than Blackbird, (named after a swarm of birds in the yard).   

Let’s see…other names from various fictional people this lady bestowed upon her children?  Rogue, Frodo, Morpheus, Artemis, and Baudelaire.

There is a child named Echo, after eco-campaigners.

Hands down, though, the worst name (and most disturbing) out of this group is Voorhees – - named after Jason Voorhees, as in Jason Voorhees from Friday the 13^th.  You know…the serial killer…

I used to hate my name as a kid.  Now I am grateful to be named Mckenzie, with a little k.  I don’t get the fad or desire for parents to go out of their way to name their child something off-the-wall.  My friend is a teacher and two names off her roster this year?  Abcde (ABB-CA-DUH) and Pajama (PAY-SHA-MAY).

What are crazy names you’ve heard?

Ea este căţeluşa Westie, numele din acte e Sisi, poreclă nu are

Mike sat on the concrete ledge with his back to the building, with a steep slope in front cascading into the road which lead to Bagdad and then fell further to meet the river which looked like a ribbon far down below. It landscape was stark barren and grey  In the distance he could still see the smoking embers of burt out homes and abandonded cars. Young childen were out hawking bootleg goods Evening was setting in and there was a sudden chill in the air. It had been a surprisingly day and this was the first hint of the familiar mountain chill. The houses were lined up to his right, each with its own balcony which overlooked the gorge, looking straight at the tiny huts spotting the mountain on the other side. They were the only reason why the mysterious mountains on the other side would come alive in the night with specks of glimmering light as the river down below asserted its presence with a roar. There is always a touch of loneliness to the twilight. It is the end and there is a certain desolation and mourning in the quiet and sudden chill which descends with the pall of misty gloom marking the end to a day which might have been gloomy itself, but would always be known as the day. Night would very soon illuminate in the not so distant lights of the city, and in the warmth of fireplaces or electric heaters. And in the arms of love. But the gloom of transition always dominated the mood. The only solace Mike could find was in the arms of someone he wanted to find in his home at Ft Benning  In the arms of love, warmth and longing. The base  was two minutes away, down a narrow path amid mountain bushes and rickety insects. And there were memories to accompany the brief journey back . His loves  room would be cast in the dim warmth of light emanating from an orange shade. The windows would be shut to avoid the chill from settling in, but the door to the balcony would yet be open. The unmade bed would be scattered with clothes cast off and a quilt half unturned. She would be standing, her left shoulder leaning against the doorsill, watching the lights come on in the opposite mountain with her back turned to him as he entered. Her left foot would be curled against the back of her right ankle. The light would cast a golden pall over her bare back and straight, long  hair. They would cover the nape of her neck which he loved so dearly to kiss and caress. Her naked body would be oblivious to the chill of the evening, as if welcoming it in anticipation of the warmth which waited to set in with the turn of the key in the main door and a few moments more. Slowly she would turn around. At first, her feet would untangle and then her left foot would regain balance as she would pivot on it to slowly glance around. It would be a casual turn as if done at the moment without any hint of the presence of anyone else in the room. Then the world would change as her bare back would face the world outside and her vulnerable front would glow in the warmth of the room. After a moment of deliberate hesitation, she would stride into the room with only a smile adorning her naked body. His cold hands would tingle her bare back as the warmth of his kiss would assure her of all that anyone wants in a lifetime. The embrace of love and the comfort of reassuring embrace. The tension that releases and speaks of oneness. Mike  fished for the keys in his pocket and opened the door. But today as always there was no one there; only memories of the past. Memories to haunt him of the past and of wishes of being in the arms of his only love. All he could think of were the times not long gone by where he waited for such times with joy and anticipation because there is no greater release than loving one’s only love. It is the moment of perfection, and divinity. Today, all alone, he doubted his faith.  Mike climbed into bed  and hoped tomorrow would be better

J’écrivais ce message à un ami, à propos de mon expérience sur le site xkcd.com.

BD de xkcd

Donc…

• Je vois le dernier xkcd.
• Ça me fait réagir.
• Je veux répondre.
• Je sais qu’il y a des forums pour accompagner ces bande dessinées.
• Je vais sur le forum lié à celui-ci (déjà quelques clics et il fallait que je connaisse l’existence de tout ça).
• J’appuie sur Post Reply
• Ça me demande de m’identifier.
• Comme je crois avoir déjà envoyé quelque-chose là, je me branche avec mon username habituel.
• Ah, mauvais mdp.
• Je fais “forget pw”.
• Oups! J’avais pas de compte avec mon adresse gmail (faut que ça soit la bonne combinaison donc, si je me rappelle pas de mon username, ça marche pas).
• Je me crée un nouveau profil.
• Le captcha est illisible, ça me prend plusieurs tentatives.
• Faut que j’aille sur mon compte gmail activer mon compte sur les forums xkcd.
• Une fois que c’est fait, je me retrouve à la page d’accueil des forums (pas à la page où j’essaie d’envoyer ma réponse).
• Je retrouve la page que je voulais.
• J’appuie sur Post Reply.
• J’écris ma réponse et je l’envoie.
• Évidemment, mon profil est vierge.
• Je vais modifier ça.
• Ça commence par mon numéro ICQ?? Eh bé!
• Plus bas, je vois des champs pour Website et Interests. Je remplis ça rapidement, en pensant au plus générique.
• Il y a aussi ma date de fête. Pas moyen de contrôler qui la voit, etc. Je l’ajoute pas.
• J’enregistre les autres modifications.
• Et j’essaie de changer mon avatar.
• Il y a pas de bouton pour uploader.
• Ça passe par une Gallery, mais il y a rien dedans.
• Je laisse tomber, même si je sais bien que les geeks de xkcd sont du genre à rire de toi si t’as un profil générique.
• Je quitte le site un peu frustré, sans vraiment avoir l’impression que je vais pouvoir commencer une conversation là-dessus.

Deuxième scénario.

J’arrive sur un site qui supporte Disqus (par exemple Mashable).

• Je peux envoyer un commentaire en tant que guest.

You are commenting as a Guest. Optional: Login below.

Donc, si je veux seulement laisser un commentaire anonyme, c’est tout ce que j’ai à faire. «Merci, bonsoir!»

Même sans me brancher, je peux faire des choses avec les commentaires déjà présents (Like, Reply).

Mais je peux aussi me brancher avec mes profils Disqus, Facebook (avec Facebook Connect), ou Twitter (avec OAuth). Dans chaque cas, si je suis déjà branché sur ce compte dans mon browser, j’ai juste à cliquer pour autoriser l’accès. Même si je suis pas déjà branché, je peux m’identifier directement sur chaque site.

Après l’identification, je reviens tout de suite à la page où j’étais. Mon avatar s’affiche mais je peux le changer. Je peux aussi changer mon username, mais il est déjà inscrit. Mon avatar et mon nom sont liés à un profil assez complet, qui inclut mes derniers commentaires sur des sites qui supportent Disqus.

Sur le site où je commente, il y a une petite boîte avec un résumé de mon profil qui inclut un décompte des commentaires, le nombre de commentaires que j’ai indiqué comme “likes” et des points que j’ai acquis.

Je peux envoyer mon commentaire sur Twitter et sur Facebook en même temps. Je peux décider de recevoir des notices par courriel ou de m’abonner au RSS. Je vois tout de suite quel compte j’utilise (Post as…) et je peux changer de compte si je veux (personnel et pro, par exemple). Une fois que j’envoie mon commentaire, les autres visiteurs du site peuvent voir plus d’infos sur moi en passant avec la souris au-dessus de mon avatar et ils peuvent cliquer et avoir un dialogue modal avec un résumé de mon compte. Ce résumé mène évidemment sur le profil complet. Depuis le profil complet, les gens peuvent suivre mes commentaires ou explorer divers aspects de ma vie en-ligne.

Suite à mon commentaire, les gens peuvent aussi me répondre directement, de façon anonyme ou identifiée.

J’ai donc un profil riche en deux clics, avec beaucoup de flexibilité. Il y a donc un contexte personnel à mon commentaire.

L’aspect social est intéressant. Mon commentaire est identifié par mon profil et je suis identifié par mes commentaires. D’ailleurs, la plupart des avatars sur Mashable sont des vraies photos (ou des avatars génériques) alors que sur le forum xkcd, c’est surtout des avatars «conceptuels».

Ce que xkcd propose est plus proche du “in-group”. Les initiés ont déjà leurs comptes. Ils sont “in the know”. Ils ont certaines habitudes. Leurs signatures sont reconnaissables. L’auteur de la bd connaît probablement leurs profils de ses «vrais fans». Ces gens peuvent citer à peu près tout ce qui a été envoyé sur le site. D’ailleurs, ils comprennent toutes les blagues de la bd, ils ont les références nécessaires pour savoir de quoi l’auteur parle, que ça soit de mathématiques ou de science-fiction. Ils sont les premiers à envoyer des commentaires parce qu’ils savent à quel moment une nouvelle bd est envoyée. En fait, aller regarder une bd xkcd, ça fait partie de leur routine. Ils sont morts de rire à l’idée que certains ne savent pas encore que les vraies blagues xkcd sont dans les alt-text. Ils se font des inside-jokes en tout genre et se connaissent entre eux.

En ce sens, ils forment une «communauté». C’est un groupe ouvert mais il y a plusieurs processus d’exclusion qui sont en action à tout moment. Pour être accepté dans ce genre de groupe, faut faire sa place.

Les sites qui utilisent Disqus ont une toute autre structure. N’importe qui peut commenter n’importe quoi, même de façon anonyme. Ceux qui ne sont pas anonymes utilisent un profil consolidé, qui dit «voici ma persona de web social» (s’ils en ont plusieurs, ils présentent le masque qu’ils veulent présenter). En envoyant un commentaire sur Mashable, par exemple, ils ne s’impliquent pas vraiment. Ils construisent surtout leurs identités, regroupent leurs idées sur divers sujets. Ça se rapproche malgré tout de la notion de self-branding qui préoccupe tant des gens comme Isabelle Lopez, même si les réactions sont fortes contre l’idée de “branding”, dans la sphère du web social montréalaisn (la YulMob). Les conversations entre utilisateurs peuvent avoir lieu à travers divers sites. «Ah oui, je me rappelle d’elle sur tel autre blogue, je la suis déjà sur Twitter…». Il n’y a pas d’allégeance spécifique au site.

Bien sûr, il peut bien y avoir des initiées sur un site particulier. Surtout si les gens commencent à se connaître et qu’ils répondent aux commentaires de l’un et de l’autre. En fait, il peut même y avoir une petite «cabale» qui décide de prendre possession des commentaires sur certains sites. Mais, contrairement à xkcd (ou 4chan!), ça se passe en plein jour, mis en évidence. C’est plus “mainstream”.

Ok, je divague peut-être un peu. Mais ça me remet dans le bain, avant de faire mes présentations Yul- et IdentityCamp.

I am such a lucky person. I have so many wonderful friends who really care about me. That just makes me feel so much more relaxed about things. Kristi, my friend since high school at

KEYPERS PARTI POODLES
is one of those such friends. She is always there for me, no matter how crazy I get! Kristi has devoted her life to all of her dogs. I lost count of how many she actually has! If you go over to

KEYPERS PARTI POODLES … you can see some of them. Well, she was feeling like her usual nice self, and she stopped by and gave me this award. Such a beautiful one, it is. It shows us how loyalty is something that a friend remans to show, no matter what. I am honored to receive this award. Thank you Kristi! If you all have a chance, go visit her site and check out ALL the dogs she has at

KEYPERS PARTI POODLES. You will just smile!

My site jumped from the normal 150ish hits per day, to about 630 in one day, then to over 2500 hits the day after that! While the numbers are dropping due to no recent updates, it’s still exciting!

I took the pictures of my fiance down the other day to watermark them, which is why they aren’t showing in the previous post. The entire set can be found here. The set was a lot of fun to shoot, and I’m more than happy to see the results.

Fiance Portrait

Yesterday was Thanksgiving. It’s always a crazy time at my house, and this year is already looking to be even crazier than past years have been.

A Brief Insight Into The Male Perspective On Engagements

FX is having a “That 70’s Show” marathon right now, and I’ve forgotten how amusing this show is. They just played the episode where Donna and Eric got engaged, and it’s made me rethink how I did my own proposal- not only that, but how cliched the whole thing is.

For starters, where does it say that there has to be a ring involved? It’s a symbol, yes, but where is it written that it has to be a ring? Why not a necklace, or… a rock? Maybe the guy should try to tattoo his name into the back of her neck, so that way not only does everyone know she’s taken, but they will know his name and can base off of that if he’s a mean motherfucker you wouldn’t want to mess with or not.

I don’t think anyone except for men who’ve been through that really understand the pressures. First off, picking out the ring. It has to be perfect. It has to be exactly what she wants- that’s a lot of pressure. Secondly, asking the parents. It’s a tradition that’s fading out of our culture, but it still shows respect for the girl and her family. When I did it, I was hoping to ask her father alone, but her mother was there as well. It was nice to see her cry, but it added that much more pressure to have her there.

Then, there’s the proposal itself. How are you going to do it? Where are you going to do it? When? What are you going to say? What if something goes wrong? I had it all planned out, and it was going to be great. I was sure she would cry- at the top of a ferris wheel at a county fair at night. Well, during the day we’d gotten food poisoning, it had rained, and when we finally made it to the fair, there was no ferris wheel. So, what now? I winged it in a parking lot at an Applebee’s (we started dating in a parking lot, and our first date was at an Applebee’s). I didn’t give the big speech I’d thought of, and she didn’t cry. But I still at least had enough to work with that it went over well; a lot better than it could’ve.

Holiday Pictures

Anyways, it’s officially the holiday season. Here’s a few random pictures to spread the feeling.

Cat eating Thanksgiving Dinner

2009-11-22, Ashland University Choir Concert

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Feverfew nutritional supplements and herbal remedies contain parthenolide, the active chemical compound found in the herb feverfew new born baby tests. Although it is a natural compound, it can cause some side effects.Read on to learn how to avoid the side effects of nutritional supplements and herbal remedies feverfew.

jQuery ( '. intro. vignette'). each (function (i, e) (jQuery (e). find ( 'img'). a ( 'error', function () (jQuery (e). remove (); ));)); Email Print l ' Article Add to Favorites Flag Article Difficulty: Moderately Easy Instructions Step 1

Stop taking supplements if you suffer symptoms of digestive disorders such as indigestion, flatulence, abdominal pain, diarrhea and nausea or vomiting

Step 2

Beware the risk of developing mouth ulcers, loss of taste and swollen tongue, lips and mouth if you chew the leaves of feverfew materials.

Step 3

Avoid taking nutritional supplements feverfew remedies or herbal if you are allergic to chamomile, yarrow or ragweed. if you are, you may suffer an allergic reaction to feverfew.

Step 4

Do not take feverfew if you are pregnant or nursing. It should not be administered to children aged under two.

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Reconsider taking feverfew if you are on medication to thin the blood like aspirin or wafarin. These supplements inhibit normal blood clotting activity of platelets, causing a tendency to bleed.

Step 6

Lower the dosage of feverfew, rather than abruptly stop taking it if you took it for over a week.stop suddenly you will suffer a withdrawal syndrome, characterized by rebound headaches, muscle stiffness, fatigue, anxiety and joint pain.

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Store prepared feverfew extract correctly. Storing the sample at normal temperature will result in some constituents to deteriorate.

…

From: Ho

Thanksgiving was surprisingly a lot better than expected.  Work was a pretty good time, Hollis and I made the best of it and I slacked to an extent that I maybe I will considered for the laziness hall of fame.

I wanted to thank everyone who brought me plates of food, it was all delicious, and it really brightened my day.

Big plans for the start of the week!  Sunday night when I get out of work I’m getting a drink with Eliza, a downright gorgeous gal that I met last last weekend.  Monday I will be going out for dinner and drinks with Kate whom I’ve missed so much it isn’t even funny.  Both nights should be an unusually good time, and if they are you might be lucky enough to hear about it.