As a self-defined seeker of the wacky, I’ve cultivated a number sources I follow online to get my Weekly Wacky Fix. These are some of the more creative bits I’ve read this week, many of which I round up every … Continue reading
Dear Diary, Just between you and me, I’m feeling a bit unloyal to Twitter, now that the sexy new Google+ is strutting his stuff. Please please don’t share this with Twitter. I’ve been having a blast with Twitter ever since Facebook and I broke … Continue reading
Welcome to 2012. The day that experts’ columns appear with abandon, advising us on New Year preparations and goals. Generally the best recourse is to read these columns, save them in a location where you’ll never find them, and then procrastinate until it’s too late to act on the advice. For the procrastinators among us, here are some timely tech things to do to start 2012 off with a clean slate (or a clean iPad). Most are guaranteed hangover cures—since you’d probably rather have a hangover than do any of these tasks:
1. Take the trouble to actually “unsubscribe” to every junk email you’ve marked as spam and allowed to accumulate by the thousands in your Mail junk folder.
2. Update every person in your Address Book with current phone numbers, emails and addresses, and delete the duplicates.
3. Go to every website where you’ve entered a password that you’ve forgotten, and change them all to passwords you can actually remember.
4. Delete all of the duplicate songs in your iTunes library, delete all of the stupid playlists you made when you were younger, and create new playlists for your current favorite songs.
5. Load every CD you’ve never copied into your iTunes library into your computer to copy over the songs. Then put the CDs on some dusty shelf somewhere.
6. Visit the websites of all of your credit cards, loans and cell phone carriers to examine their privacy policies and opt out, since you’ve already been automatically opted in.
7. Organize all of the apps on your iPhone into meaningful folders and delete all the free apps you downloaded while drinking with friends.
8. Ditto all of the apps on your iPad.
9. Investigate the latest software for erasing your online identity in the (unfortunate) event of your untimely death. Then pick your software poison for making all of your stupid Facebook entries (yes, they were stupid) and your self-aggrandizing tweets (yes, be honest, you were trying to make yourself look good to total strangers) leave the universe with you.
10. Or just clip this list to a safe but obscure location where you’ll never find it again, and pour yourself another Bloody Mary.
“Design is not just what it looks like and feels like. Design is how it works.”
Flipboard, meet Steve Jobs. Actually, you already have! You’ve created a product for Steve’s iPad that follows his philosophy that good design is about good functionality (“how it works”), and you’ve given us good looks and good feel as a bonus.
And what a bonus it is! Just the act of “flipping” a page makes Flipboard inviting. You’ve got us flipping virtually. We’re flipped out over the way Flipboard makes sense of our virtual worlds and brings them all together in one gloriously designed app, where function overtakes form, and both are champions.
Now we’re connected in one virtual fell swoop to Facebook, Twitter, Google Reader, Instagram, Flickr, LinkedIn and more than we can ever save to Read It Later, plus more professional online content than we can contemplate on Instapaper. We can thrill to feeds on Art, Design, Tech, Lifestyle, Oprah and over 30 industry professions, and it will seem just like a lark with a magazine to us.
You’ve made our work seem like fun, Flipboard 1.5. And you’ve done Steve proud.
9. You’ve actually begun to look forward to telemarketing phone calls, and they’re hanging up on you.
8. The accumulated toe nail clippings surrounding your desk have amassed to form an anti-Facebook union.
7. You’ve been staring into your refrigerator for so long that you missed the deadline for the only paying account you have right now. And the interior light bulb in the fridge burned out.
6. With your only paying account now searching for its new national brand on the free logomaker.com site, you desperately resort to more futile forays inside your (darkened) refrigerator.
5. Upon further scrutiny, your dark refrigerator remains empty, but a quick bathroom scale check-in reveals added baggage. And it’s yours.
4. Thanks to your flying-solo freelance ethic, your senses are now so heightened that any high-pitched whining sound, no matter how distant, becomes the dominant drone of The Giant Gnat That Ate New York City.
3. No one calls. No one texts you. No one posts on your wall. No one retweets your tweets.
2. Your mother is posting recipes for quinoa casseroles and photos of her friends in restorative yoga postures on your Facebook wall, and you lack the energy to hover your cursor over the ‘block’ pop-up.
1. After four long days working from home alone with your indifferent dog, a noisy gnat and your empty refrigerator subbing for office camaradie, you resort to Starbucks. Where you pay $4.87 for your first Frapp of the day (it’s 9:50 am, do the math and add up the calories)–and another lonely freelancer at the next table offers to watch your laptop during your 7-second pit stop. Except he’s not a freelance designer, he’s just a freelance thief.
While mourning the loss of all faith in any humanity, you might just consider coworking and collaborating in a community of your peers–where your laptop, your creativity and your soul are not stolen. And great coffee is free.
Powered by CoCreate in downtown Austin, Texas.
Cowork + Collaborate = CoCreate.
Twitter, I am madly, deeply, head over heels with you.
Please let’s just keep this our little secret.
Why? Well, first off, Facebook won’t be pleased. In the short time we’ve been an item, Facebook has come to believe it rules my personal and work life with total dominance, and wants me to pay attention to every little inane detail of the meaningless existence led by everyone Facebook ever suggested should be my friend.
And Facebook is so demanding, always suggesting this game or that app or some invitation or something I’m required to like or comment on. I really hated the way Facebook pestered me relentlessly to unlock something or answer a fake-psych question or worse, to go live on a farm–and I mean, get real, I am clearly more a city girl.
Sorry for the rant. I just know Facebook won’t let go of me easily, that’s all.
Second reason, twitter, that we should keep this on the QT, is that most everyone I know doesn’t really understand you. Isn’t that classic? You have so much more to offer than my friends can even comprehend, but they think you’re just a flash in the pan of my life. You’re not all bells and whistles like my ex, Facebook, is–so they underestimate you.
At their peril!
And then there’s the problem with commitment, twitter. If I go public with my insane infatuation with you, well, I could be setting myself up for a fall. I’m still a little raw over the Facebook breakup, if you must know. It was just so public. And just so wrong, the way Facebook revealed all of our sweet little nothings without really asking permission. As if we’d never really meant something to each other.
Anyway, twitter, for now you are just right for me, you know, since it’s never smart to get too heavily invested in rebound relationships. You flatter me easily and often with my many followers–I get a little high every time you alert me to a new admirer. Flattery, twitter, will get you everywhere! Plus–and this is huge–you just get me, and accept me for who I say I am, without that inquisition I always got from Facebook: What are your interests? Where did you go to school? Are you in a relationship? Can I raid your friends’ contact info to cozy up to them, too?
And you’re witty, twitter, very clever much of the time, well-versed on so many subjects, so easy to be around, easy to follow too, always there for me, but you don’t get all deep on me or demand too much of me.
In fact, you really don’t demand anything but 140 little characters, at most, in my time, on my terms, not anyone else’s. And that is the beginning of a beautiful relationship.
Until we meet up again later tonight–