It’s one of those crazy days …
You know the kind where you feel like someone jammed a chopstick in your ear and scrambled your brains around?
Yeah, one of those kinds of days.
Yay for the end of the semester (note heavy sarcasm).
Regression
What does it say about me that all I want to do today is hole up in a warm, dark room and write? Maybe I’ll eat a little …
I feel like I’m going back to the womb.
Sigh. The life of an aspiring freelancer …
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Plea from a nube Twitterer
I did it.
I signed up for Twitter … again, actually. I think I have some other alias flitting around in the Twitosphere, but I couldn’t remember the password.
But back to my point: I’m on Twitter. Dun, dun, duuuuun. I feel like I need some fanfare going on in the background. Like a gong. Wouldn’t it be nice to have someone follow you around with a gong, which they would bang whenever you needed to add a little emphasis to whatever you just said? I think that might come in handy …
Psssttt … whoever you app-making people are. That idea’s worth millions … I’d like a cut though.
So yes, being on Twitter. My question for all of you Twittering powerhouses (Yes, I’m talking to you, Fish, Mike, etc.) is this:
How much is too much? At what point are you just launching needless comments into Cyber Space, effectively clogging it up for the rest of the more restrained Tweeters? Are we talking one every 30 minutes? Every hour? Once a day?
Anyone have any wisdom?
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Feminist rant for the day
I was just stood up for an interview because the woman I’d scheduled to meet had to take care of her son after the school called her saying he’d gotten a concussion.
I’m just wondering how often this happens to journalists when the interviewee is a male …
Just a thought to chew on.
If you disagree and want to speak your mind, I’d welcome any comments.
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Realizations that hurt
I was faced with my own non-indispensability this morning.
While walking through the parking lot on my way to the intern quarantine at the Daily Camera, I wondered what the headline would be if someone accidentally ran me over:
“Intern smooshed in parking lot”
“Devastating car accident leaves intern flattened”
Basically, I don’t think I’ve been working here long enough to earn a more refined moniker.
I need to start working harder.
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Irony
Just spent the last two hours using Vista Print to create the perfect business card … well, it’s probably not the perfect business card … but it’ll do.
I’m trying to spread the word about my writing and look all professional when I meet people in the Boulder community who I want to suck up to, er, let know that I’m a journalist.
The irony comes in the fact that I could have spent that time working on the stories I already have assigned to me.
Especially since, of course, I ended up ordering the first card I designed … about one hour and 43 minutes ago.