I don't know why this gave me a peaceful feeling all day. Satori?
AUSTIN — The Texas State Library and Archives Commission is declaring there are too many state reports.
It says so in a 668-page report.
Heskett's initial findings indicate more than 400 report requirements are obsolete, duplicative or not needed as frequently as currently required.
Report 1473 calls upon the Department of Aging to prepare a report, although the Department of Aging no longer exists.
There are still report requirements for the Human Rights Commission, which the Legislature abolished in 2003, Heskett said.
The Texas Workforce Commission is required annually to report on creating equal opportunity guidelines for employees that have been in place for years and are in no need of re-creating.
The best part of the article is the remark that this 600-page report on redundant reporting will become ... an annual report.
There's no need to wonder if your state government has become Big Brother. We haven't, yet. It's not that we don't want to be, but we're not nearly that organized.
So, over the weekend, JK Rowling told a crowd in Carnegie Hall that she always considered Albus Dumbledore gay. And the audience cheered.
I've really been postponing writing this post while I think about exactly what to say. This is why I'd never become an A-list blogger - I'm not into timely punditry. I like to have days and weeks to process information fully before I write anything. But enough of that. Let's see ...
If I'd been in Carnegie Hall that night, I would have cheered, too, and this is why: not because she says she secretly wrote somebody or other as a homosexual, but because she finally admitted that sexuality exists!
I'm sure you noticed how strait-laced the HP characters are. Except for a little teen snogging, no one seems to have a single thought about sex until and unless they're married. Almost nobody hooks up after high school. There are no trysts at the Leaky Cauldron. Nobody is a member of the Gringott's "Mile Below Club". (Heh.) No children are ever born outside of wedlock - even Tom Riddle's mother, a young woman who endured abuse and calamity all her life, managed to get a ring on her finger right before getting knocked up. There's never a breath of a word about sexual relations ... children just spring forth in subsequent chapters, as if by magic. (Sorry.)
I'm not complaining whatsoever. The Harry Potter books are children's literature, whatever you may think of the dark nature of the later books. And in children's lit, they never talk explicitly about sex. It's just not done. Hell, traditional children's books never mention peeing, either.
(By the way, what's up with that? Doesn't anybody ever need to pee at Hogwarts? As near as I can tell, there are only two bathrooms in all of Hogwarts. One is for snobby prefects only. And the other is never used because it's haunted by Moaning Myrtle and it smells strongly of Polyjuice Potion. Oh, and it has a bloody great snake slithering through it sometimes. I guess I'd forgo peeing for an entire school year, too, under those conditions.)
We have indulged our inner kids, and we have loved us a very good series all these years. So to hear JK Rowling invite us to revel in a moment of adult sensibility, must have been exhilerating.
Now. Is Dumbledore really gay? I say, not necessarily. Stay tuned.
It's Saturday, so you have plenty of time to find out what your Meme IQ is. Tell me how you scored, please! I got 35 out of 50 - but I notice there are lots of memes missing, such as We Like The Moon and goatse (no link, sickos) ...
When you're done, Go Wild! Create your own animalistic avatar, courtesy of the Bronx Zoo.
Later, I recommend you get outside and find a likely pumpkin patch to visit. Seriously! Halloween is right around the corner! You don't have a lot of time to carve a pumpkin and enjoy a good Jack o' Lantern. After Halloween, pumpkins have to remain whole and sit around, doing nothing, on beds of decorative straw and dried corn stalks and depressing stuff like that. So seize the day.
Here's a list of Sacramento-area pumpkin patches. We're going after lunch at IHOP (Bunny's request).
Only the greatest thing since pizza in a cone! It's Eat Me Crunchy, a cereal bowl that keeps the cereal away from the milk until you are ready to eat it. No more soggy cereal, blogfolk. I sort of thought of something like this when I was a kid. I hated soggy cereal. I'd go to great lengths to time my morning routine and avoid letting the Trix or the Count Chocula get soggy.
Only thing is, it looks impossible to clean. I mean, the milk sits in that little aquifer under the cereal shelf, but how does it all come out in the dishwasher? Well, what does it matter. It was invented by the British. And we know how much inconvenience they can take.
Yesterday, I met Lori Hahn from Hahn @ Home! She works downtown, very near my office. Against her better judgment, perhaps, she agreed to meet at a coffee shop in a neutral location. She found out I don't look at all like my picture. I found out she's just as funny and insightful as she is when she writes. Go and read her, if you haven't yet.
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New term for period English films with lots of elaborate costumes and heaving bodices: textile porn. Try and use it in a sentence today.
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At work, I've learned the hard way that Web 2.0 has not been warmly embraced by all public agencies yet. There are some agencies that won't post online basic data, like property value assessments - you still have to hitch up your horse and buggy and travel to the big city for an interview with the local magistrate. All this by way of saying, against all logic, it looks like I have to make a field trip to San Joaquin County on Monday. Feh.
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And finally ... call this org porn, if you will ...
This guy, Mike Rohde, hacked his own weekly planner using a Moleskine notebook and some office supplies. You have to visit his Flickr page to understand how elaborate he made it. He even uses symbols to indicate items done, not done, postponed, eaten, kidnapped by gypsies, etc.
I'm appalled, yet oddly compelled. I hate all planners I find in stationery shops - they're never exactly what I need. So I might just try and make a planner of my own, but I wonder if I'm up to maintaining a planner at all, let alone with this level of exactitude. Maybe I'd be loyal to a Pam-made planner. What are your thoughts? Have you ever made your own planner? Care to share with the class?
Ha - I was about to type that mousing left-handed was a piece of cake. Then I realized the mouse had mysteriously moved back to the right-hand side. No wonder it seemed so easy! Anyway, for the most part, this is a successful switch. Slow as all get-out, but not confusing.
The longer I work at Dream Job, the more coworkers I get to know. They are all like me - friendly and funny, but so introverted, sometimes they're nearly invisible. Stealth employees. You can poke your head out your office door at 10 on a Tuesday, and hear almost no sound. But if you zigzag your way through the office, there they all are at their desks and in their cubicles, faithfully
playing Halo typing their reports.
One by one, we have been bonding. It's been nice. I think by the time I get ready to retire, I'll have spoken to almost everybody!
In other news, I've had tendinitis in my right shoulder for quite a while now. FYI, it sucks.
The doc's advice almost - but not quite - fails to relieve the pain, but nothing's healing the problem. So I'm going to try the extra step of switching my mouse to the left hand. I read some non-professional opinions on it in Lifehacker*. Most people seem to think it's worth the effort, whether to promote ambidexterity or to relieve carpel tunnel, etc.
As a lefty, I thought I would immediately take to the switch. But it's distinctly odd. I'll let you know how many minutes I actually keep this up.
* Please look it up on Google. Don't make me try to create a link yet.
In between two buildings on K Street in Sacramento is this tiny, tiny mod. It used to be a key hut. One guy (at a time) worked in there, fashioning keys all day. Don't know what happened to the key hut guy(s).
Don't even know if psychics really work here now. I'd like to meet them, but no matter when I walk up, the shop is closed. How about that? You'd think they would know in advance when I am going to stop by. (Unless! They're avoiding me! Heh.)
Just because Frodo walked 18 miles the first night, doesn't mean you have to! Hobbits, as we all know, are made of tougher stuff than men (and even women!). Most of us have to work or go to school or raise our children, and that means we can't recreate the journey day by day. [...] The important thing about this quest is your commitment to see it through to the end. Choose a time frame that is realistic, and stick to it! Our rules are very flexible. We want everyone to create a challenge that will work for their lifestyles.
I like this. I'm picturing putting up a map of Middle Earth in my office and marking off the route as I walk it. I particularly like the convenient pathway mileage for any leg of the journey you wish.
And no cheating. You know who's watching ...
Check this - an article attempting to explain why cats always seem to sit on the lap of the person in the room who doesn't like cats. Does this ring true for you cat owners?
The cat-avoiding visitor makes no move toward the cat, and usually avoids eye contact. That may actually allow the kitty to feel comfortable enough to come closer for an investigation of this stranger. As the cat inches closer to sniff the visitor's shoes, the visitor makes no overtures. This is another indication to the cat that there is no immediate threat. The cat may then jump onto the couch, sit next to the visitor, and continue to check her or him out.
Maybe, when you're visiting someone's home and you don't want attention from the cat, you should make the first move to pet it. Then the cat will back away from you. Two can play this reverse-psychology game.
The point of the article is that cats just want to set their own pace in meeting people. For instance, Maya's cat Mitzie is good-natured, and has the same friendly regard for all visitors, unless they knock at the door. Seriously. When someone knocks at the door, Mitzi runs under the bed and doesn't come out for a long time. That's why, when visitors walk up to Maya's house, they are supposed to announce themselves by calling on their cell phones instead of knocking!
And my mother's cat, Taki, made up her mind about me long ago. I'm the Unwelcome Interloper who brings the Dogs Of Doom. If I want to pet Mom's cat, I have to make a special pilgrimage to the back bedroom, approach Taki with an air of subservience, and wait for an invitation. So there again. Pacing. Now, why bother with cats ... that's another article.