The World is Way Too Big.

September 4, 2008 at 2:02 am | Posted in It's a Big World, Wedding Fun | 1 Comment
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JB and I have decided we want a destination wedding.

We have no clue what that destination should be.

And the lack of clarity is overwhelming.

Yes, I know we have plenty of time and there is nothing to freak about yet. But basically every other decision about this wedding is going to hinge on the destination, from gown to guest list to flowers to favors. My hands are essentially tied until we have that destination picked, and it’s the little things I just know I’m going to have a ball with. For example, I’ve already chosen our first song, our wedding website template, and am leaning towards a particular centerpiece arrangement. All of those super-fun details will need to be reevaluated once a decision is made – reevaluated and maybe even totally abandoned.

Just to put the uncertainty in perspective, I woke up today thinking Bermuda, by lunch I was staring wistfully at the Central Park Boathouse’s website, and by the time I came home I was certain a Cape Cod wedding would be perfect for us.

So, help.

I came home and made pro-and-con lists with JB on destination types – we couldn’t even do specific destinations. We broke it in to three categories – beach/tropical, country club/independent resort, and city. We spent an hour brainstorming pros and cons of each locale. And you know what we decided?

To pick three venues in each destination type, visit them, then go with our favorite. Pro-and-con FAIL.

I think we’ve picked our three in each, which is at least a start. We haven’t been to any of these, so this list is largely based on what Google told me. Here’s what we’re thinking of:

Beach/Tropical – Bermuda

Country Club/Independent Resort - Cape Cod

City – New York City

Hopefully we’ll be able to get to all these places within the next four weeks – NYC is very close by, we need to get to Boston soon to show off the bling to JB’s family (and officially celebrate our engagement with them, of course), and, well, who wouldn’t want to go to Bermuda for a couple of days? And then once the destination is settled the real fun (for me) can begin – checking things off the to-do list!

A Sparkly!

September 3, 2008 at 1:30 am | Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

While I’m waiting for Flikr to finish processing my Pro account order (which, PS, JUST expired like yesterday, go figure), here’s something to whet your appetite – my placeholder sparkly from JB! Drink in the awesomeness, people:

Extreme out of focus close-up sparkly

Extreme out of focus close-up sparkly

The engagement dinner. Courtesy of my phone.

The engagement dinner. Courtesy of my phone.

Somebody’s Getting Married….

September 2, 2008 at 8:17 pm | Posted in It's a Big World, Peeps and Such, The Future | 1 Comment
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JB told me earlier this year that, quote, “if we aren’t engaged by September we have a problem.”

He proposed at 5:45pm on Sunday, August 31st.

Yup, it’s official. After two years and two months of dating, I’m planning to become Mrs. JB! The big moment came while we were spending Labor Day weekend in San Juan, Puerto Rico. We decided to go down there for a few days since we had Monday off anyway – at least, that’s what I thought. But no. We were actually going down there so JB could pop the question – and not have to spring for all the champagne I guzzled afterwards. :-)

But I jest. We stayed at the Ritz-Carlton San Juan, arriving on the evening Friday August 29th. Saturday was spent on the beach, then I spent Sunday morning getting a massage before meeting up with JB by the pool. Don’t worry – we didn’t overexert ourselves.

The big moment happened in the Club Lounge on the 9th floor of the hotel. JB poured us both a glass of champagne then pulled an absolutely awesome ring out of his pocket and said:

“Miss Amanda Lynn, will you please marry me?”

He said other stuff too, but he’d kill me if I spilled EVERY SINGLE DETAIL on this blog, so you’ll have to be content with that. I of course said yes through a bunch of giggles, promptly shouted to the club lounge concierge that we were engaged, and demanded more champagne.

We went to dinner at BLT, an amazing restaurant at the hotel, where I had a filet and JB had skirt steak, then moved on to the casino to try our “gonna get married” luck there. By this point in the evening we were giddily referring to each other as “Fancy Fiances.” We lost mucho dinero at the casino but didn’t care – the luck came in sitting down next a diamond wholesaler who has a granddaughter with the same name as me. (Oh yeah. The ring? It’s totally awesome but a placeholder – a great big gaudy awesome incredible crystal). So next step is to phone her up and see what we can do about makin’ this whole thing legit(er) with some life-changing bling.

Looking ahead, here’s what we’re thinking:

-We’re going to try for the wedding on 9/9/09 – might be tough to get because of the cool date, but it happens to fall on a Wednesday which I’m hoping will discourage more sane brides than myself.

-Destination, destination, destination. Exactly what that destination is is TBD – I currently have a list of 10 options, including such specifics as “Europe?” and “New England.”

-I am determined to stay sane through this process. I was always thinking I would be a totally chill bride-to-be, and now after being engaged for about 47 hours I can see I was TOTALLY WRONG. So let this be a public plea for help. Serenity now. Serenity now.

I’m off to compare the pros and cons of Bermuda (where I have never been), Mexico (where I have never been), and the Cape (where I have never been). Photos of the gaudy awesomeness to follow shortly….

PS – I was DYING to announce this news with the wedding video clip from The Muppets Take Manhattan, or barring that at least the song. But I can’t find it ANYWHERE. Help, anyone??

Shameless Plug – FeedMeBrains.com

August 26, 2008 at 7:29 pm | Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment
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We interrupt your regularly-scheduled reading for a quick shameless plug. Me and a couple of buddies have decided to indulge our shared obsession with a particular undead creature and create our own zombie blog:

FeedMeBrains.com

For my squeamish readers (and I know I have a bunch, if the number of squeamish people in “real life” correlates), this will be the last zombie mention on this blog. But for those of you who need a Dawn of the Dead fix every now and again, come on down and check us out.

My Science Experiment. By Mandalyn.

August 21, 2008 at 4:11 pm | Posted in Musings | Leave a comment
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Hypothesis: Cutting down on booze and adding 15 minutes of aerobic exercise every day (or thereabouts) will result in weight loss and all-around shape-up.

Controls: Overall diet to remain essentially unchanged. Laying-about time on the couch to remain at current levels.

Variables: Conscious effort to be made to reduce booze consumption. Specific parameters TBD, but general direction is “less than what Mandalyn drinks now.” Addition of 15 minutes of elliptical training (or comparable) per day.**

**Special notes on the variables: 15 minutes or whatever I can squeeze in before 6pm on a workday, whichever is longer. There is no way I can convince myself to do this every day without giving myself the 6pm loophole. And “comparable” does not include “randomly milling about the downtown area for an hour and calling it done,” which has been my exercise regimen to date.

Let the experiment commence!

Cutest. Boots. Ever.

August 17, 2008 at 3:42 pm | Posted in Recent Finds | Leave a comment
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OK, so I think technically these are called “bootees” but being over the age of, you know, an infant I am going to call them boots.

I went out yesterday intending to go to a car dealership – I am giving serious thought to a Mini (any thoughts, anyone? I’ve heard mixed reviews). JB and I made the fatal mistake of stopping at our local pub for lunch first, which turned into a fight (sorry JB, a “disagreement leading to a passionate discussion”) which then turned into a surprisingly frank and informative conversation leading to happiness all round (“awww”). The point of all that is by the end of this “discussion” neither of us were in the mood to go to a car dealership.

As we were deciding where to go next (Target was high on the list), my iPhone froze up on me, so we decided to head to the nearby Apple store. Which happens to have an Aldo store close by. Which happened to exactly match the gift card I’ve been carting around for months.

Tada! I am so wearing these to work tomorrow.

So deliciously impractical

So deliciously impractical

My Manicurist is Holding Me Hostage.

August 2, 2008 at 4:53 pm | Posted in Musings | 1 Comment
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I have pretty nails. I’ve had pretty nails for a long time. I loooooove my pretty nails. I am frequently made fun of for being a “princess,” but truthfully I think my nails are my only princess-vice. I get my hair cut once a year (though that may increase now that I’ve found my own celebrity stylist, but that’s another post entirely). I hate shopping and have owned some staples of my wardrobe since college (and my favorite sweatshirt is from 8th grade). I wear minimal makeup to work, none outside of work. Does this sound like princess behavior? I think not.

But my nails. My nails are tremendously important.

I started getting them done almost four years ago, when I was primping for my company holiday party. I’d had regular manicures before, but that time I wanted something different. I lacked the manicure-lingo to explain it, and even worse I lacked a skilled manicurist. So I was getting my hair “did” for said party and mentioned to my stylist that I was interested in getting my nails done. She promptly handed me a coupon for 15% off for the nail place that had just opened next door and suggested I stop in there once my hair was done. Brilliant marketing move on the part of the Nail House, but I digress. After my hair was finished, I took my stylist’s advice, walked in, sat down in front of the woman who beckoned me over, and told her I wasn’t sure what I wanted. Then I noticed she had one finger done in exactly the style I wanted, so like a two-year-old lacking vocabulary I just pointed and said “I want that.”

And a relationship that has lasted longer than most celebrity marriages was born.

Ann was – and is – everything I could want in a pretty-nail technician. Meaning that when she is done I have the prettiest nails around. Oh, and she’s taught me lots of vocabulary. I get a gel permanent french with crystal finish. No tips, no acrylic. In case you were wondering.

After about eight months of seeing Ann, I moved to Danbury, CT – 40 miles from the Nail House. While this was pre-gas crisis, it was still a not-so-fun trip. But I made it. Just for Ann. Even now, I am a good 25 minute drive from the Nail House. Yet I was just there yesterday. The only real challenge that distance posed to our relationship was when I moved to Boston. We had to take a break for a while – it just wasn’t feasible for me to go 150 miles for nails. Every month. So I tried new places up there. Every month. And I appreciated Ann all the more. My first stop when I moved back was the Nail House, where I got a big hug and a huge chorus of “welcome backs” from everyone who knew me – albeit, it wasn’t many. Ann, as the owner, seems to like to change staff frequently. Very frequently.

But when I was in there yesterday, I was struck by something I think I’ve been feeling for quite a while, but never so strong as yesterday. See, I’m held hostage by my manicurist. She knows I love her. She knows I can’t get by without her. She knows I’ll drive 40 miles for her, and that if I stop coming by for a bit, I’ll always be back. Add that to the fact that in the last four years many MANY other people have “discovered” her (and her talented technicians, Ann accepts nothing less than perfection from her employees), and you have, shall we say, not the best customer service experience.

Like yesterday. I had called a few days previously and made an appointment, with Ann, for 3pm. I showed up right at the dot of 3 to find Ann with another client. She kind of looked at me, shrugged, and said, “One minute, one minute.” (As with many nail salons, this one is primarily Korean and Ann doesn’t speak a large amount of English.) So, fine. One minute. I can deal with one minute. What I had trouble dealing with was when it was a half hour later, Ann was still working with her other client, and she motioned me over to someone else to “start” while she “finished up.” This other manicurist basically did the whole thing. Now this bothered me for two reasons:

1) The principle – I’d made the appointment with ANN. I was expecting ANN to do the work. If she were out sick or something, that’s different. But just because she double-booked herself is not, to me, an acceptable reason for her handing me off to someone else, especially a half hour late.

2) The reality – there’s a reason that I make appointments with Ann. When I’ve been in a rush, I’ve used other technicians. When I’ve brought in referrals with me and Ann wants to dazzle them herself, I’ve had to use other technicians (another big customer service faux paux, wouldn’t you agree?). And no offense to the other technicians, but I think Ann is better. So I make my appointments with her.

So, I was pissed, There I was, wasting a half hour when I had had the foresight (and, hello, courtesy to Ann) to make an appointment days in advance, and then I didn’t even get what I’d asked for (services performed by Ann). I started thinking about what I could do. I realized pretty much the only actionable thing I could do was take my patronage somewhere else. Literally. That’s it. I could bitch. I could moan. I could try to respectfully point out how this treatment of loyal customers would make Seth Godin’s hair turn white. And I know the only thing Ann would do in response to any of those reactions is say, “Oh, sorry. We are very busy these days,” and go back to whatever she was doing. No. My only actionable response to this treatment is to say, “I will not stand for this treatment, unless it improves I’m going somewhere else.” And I have to mean it. And I don’t.

Because no one does pretty nails like her. ::sigh::

The Emerald Isle.

August 1, 2008 at 4:08 pm | Posted in It's a Big World | Leave a comment
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In the two wonderful years that JB has been in my life, I’ve been exposed to Ireland. In a big way. In a big. Big. Big. Way.

JB’s parents both came to the U.S. as teenagers, alone, from County Galway. Much of his extended family lives in Ireland now, and he has routinely gone over at least two or three times every year throughout his life. We even met in Ireland – my first visit, his 900th.

At the beginning of July, we went back for my third trip and his 950th. For pretty much the first time ever for both of us, there was no agenda to this trip. No events, no celebration, no specific reason for being there besides the 4th of July here (i.e. no work) and JB’s desire to rack up some additional AA miles.

We arrived into Dublin at around 11am Thursday, after getting on a plane at JFK at 7:30pm Wednesday and changing planes in London. After collecting our bags, we hopped in the rental car for the 3 hour drive to Athlone, the area in which that JB’s aunt, two uncles, and grandmother live. JB’s 950 trips mean that he can drive on the “wrong” side of the road like a pro, which I am totally down with.

Driving through these small towns is like nothing I’ve ever seen before. There are cows everywhere. Everywhere. Not just out in the country – you’ll be driving through more suburban areas (i.e. houses within a mile of each other) and you will see cows in front yards. Guaranteed. Also sheep and horses, but mainly cows. It’s only when you’re actually in a downtown area, where you might find a general store, a gas station, and 4 pubs, do you not see cows – and if you blink you’ll miss those downtown areas. No buildings are above two stories, everything is painted beautiful pastel colors of blue, pink, and yellow, and some of the brick has been there for centuries.

The landscape of Ireland is everything you’ve heard and more. Rolling, green hills as far as the eye can see. Lush trees, bushes, shrubs everywhere. And there’s a reason for that – it rains ALL THE TIME. Not the way it rains in the States – the rain in Ireland is more like a light mist all the time. Sometimes it gets heavier and becomes “real” rain, and sometimes it gets lighter and the sun comes out for a few minutes. But you can always feel that mist there. This is not a bad thing. It lends kind of a romantic air to the world – when it’s not freezing cold, that is – and the view more than makes up for it. But suffice to say that if you’re visiting Ireland and forget to pack the sunblock, don’t panic.

If you’re planning a trip to Ireland, do yourself and a favor and don’t limit yourself to the big city areas, or the tourist traps. Take a bus tour, or if you’re brave, a self-driving tour. That’s how you’ll see the real country of Ireland. The magic of Ireland is not in downtown Cork, at the Blarney Stone, or in cosmopolitan Dublin (although all of those are wonderful places to visit in their own right). The magic of Ireland becomes apparent when you see a cow in a front yard.

Flying is For the Birds.

July 7, 2008 at 10:54 pm | Posted in How to Function in Society, It's a Big World | 1 Comment
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JB and I just got back from what I swear is the shortest trip ever made to Ireland. We took the red eye on Wednesday night, arrived Thursday morning, and were back home by 9pm on Sunday. I have about 900 blog posts worth of stories from those very few days. I’m not even going to get into the whole “I promise to try to write them all, we’ll see, I’ll give it my best go” mess. Ya’ll know I am not the best blogger in the world. Moving on.

Before I get to the actual trip itself, a little needs to said about the whole commercial aviation experience. Actually, a lot needs to be said about it.

In fairness, it’s really not THAT bad. Especially when you know what you’re doing. I’ve been flying my whole life, both within the U.S. and internationally. My first flight was on the Concord as a fetus. I spent my college years flying every few months, by myself, since I went to school 1500 miles from home. For years my job has required extensive travel – and since I work for a hotel company, personal travel is highly encouraged in my off-time. But I’m a downright newbie compared to JB. He spent his childhood flying between the U.S. and Ireland multiple times every year, his parents both worked for airlines at an airport before starting their own travel company, JB himself worked for an airline at the airport as a guest service agent for 8 years, and he’s now American Airlines Executive Platinum, a ranking that one must spend three quarters of their life on an airplane to achieve. Did I mention he is a total aviation nerd? I swear, some days he spends upwards of six hours surfing airliners.net.

I absolve myself of any and all decision-making and responsibility when I fly with JB.

So when you know what you’re doing, as JB and I do, the whole process of flying isn’t all that terrible. You just need to accept that certain things are beyond your control – the weather, the lines, the weight of the person wedged in next to you for 6 hours.  With acceptance comes tranquility, peace, and an overall feeling of zen.

Except at Heathrow. Heathrow freakin’ sucks.

Honestly, it is the most inane, nonsensical airport ever. Like, really awful. Since I know my bulleted lists have been missed, here’s a quick rundown of Heathrow’s suckiest attractions:

  • It is the biggest rabbit warren ever constructed. It takes absolutely ages to get anywhere. I’ve never seen its equal. It’s like being on the outside of a big circle, and instead of being able to follow the radius and walk to the middle, you have to loop around hundreds of times in ever-smaller circles until 4 hours later you reach the center. Bright side: I am absolving myself of feeling guilty for not exercising this week.
  • You have to go through security again if you switch planes. This has happened to me on occasion at other airports, but it happens every single time at Heathrow. On a trip to Spain last year with Manned Up, he bought a few hundred bucks worth of alcohol at the Duty Free in Madrid and when he got to Heathrow they made him throw it all away before he was allowed to pass through security. Even though he bought it at his point of departure. A few hours before.
  • And while we’re on the topic of security, there is too much at Heathrow. I know, I know, how can there be too MUCH security in this day and age, right? Well. Here’s how Heathrow made sure I wasn’t a threat to others yesterday. I went through the “regular” security – Xray for carry-ons, metal detector for me. A few steps beyond that was another security line, this time especially for shoes. So I had to stand in line again, then take off my shoes and shuffle around as they went through their own super-spiffy Xray. Then we got to the gate – someone was standing in the gate’s doorway checking boarding passes and IDs. Got through that – then three steps beyond this check, before you quite got to the seats, there was a little man at a podium. Also checking boarding passes and IDs. Even though Dude 1 at the gate’s doorway was in his line of vision. At this point JB was deemed safe, but I was apparently giving off mad crazy killer vibes because I got selected for the extra super special security check! So that’s 5 levels of security. 5. For a flight connection. Nobody cares that much about blowing you up, Heathrow. Promise!
  • And now this extra super special security check I was treated to deserves a bullet of its own. For fear of being denied boarding for being unruly, I sucked it up and got through it as quickly and quietly as possible. But honestly. I had to stand there for 20 minutes while they went through all the other “high risk” passengers. Then when it was my turn, I swear to god, I know female staff check female passengers, but security chick’s hands were directly on my girls. Like, chillin’ there. On my boobs. That was fun. I had to take off my shoes – again – and the woman literally took them, turned them over to look at the bottom, then handed them back to me. Are you joking me? Did that really require the complete removal of my shoes, to check out the remains of JB’s uncle’s farm on there? They opened my carry-on, where I was carrying contraband moisturizer that I’d managed to sneak through the whole way (speaks highly for 5 levels of security, no?). This chick looked DIRECTLY at the moisturizer before closing up the bag and handing it back. And when she went into my purse? And grabbed my lipstick? And opened it up? To make sure it was actually lipstick? Then decided it was all good and handed it back? I carry like TEN lipsticks in my purse at any given time. Ridiculous on my part? Of course. But honestly, how thorough is this extra special secondary security if you’re only going to bother looking at 1 of the 10 lipsticks? And since, no, it’s not that thorough, how effective and therefore necessary is it?

Yeah. I am not a fan of Heathrow. It has a few good points, I suppose, but I just had to vent on those bad points.

What about you? What do you think is the worst airport out there today?

I Don’t Know Anything About the Internet.

May 3, 2008 at 4:48 pm | Posted in It's a Big World, The Future, Uncategorized | Leave a comment
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It’s true. I don’t.

But I’m trying to learn.

I’ve always had an affinity for logic (A leads to B leads to C), which by definition has meant I’ve always been somewhat OK at computers. I spent loads of time on my family’s Mac Apple IIGS (so much time that I actually remember the name of the machine though I couldn’t have been more than 6 years old or so). Then I got a Nintendo (original NES, ghetto fabulous), and game systems replaced computers in my life for a few years.

Then Prodigy went mainstream.

Do you remember Prodigy? I don’t, not really. I just remember the chat rooms. I remember that a window opened and would fill with words that you hadn’t typed in. The words just showed up. And there was no way to tell what would be typed in that window next. And you could type your responses. And other people would see it! Even though the window was on YOUR computer!

It was an epiphany. It was also a monstrous pay-per-minute bill for my friend’s family, since my Dad refused to get Prodigy so I could only use it when we went to visit my friend. If memory serves, his parents blamed him and forgot I’d also been there at the time. Sorry, dude.

It took my family a few years to get AOL, but when we did, I was unstoppable. Hours upon hours upon hours. Trying to type as quietly as possible so my parents wouldn’t know I was online at 2am. Learning about fascinating people from all over the world. Thinking private chat was the coolest thing in the world, as long as you knew who you were chatting with. Making furtive, never-to-be-realized plans of meeting up in real life and knowing this group of people on a “deeper” level.

Bear in mind, this was before the first Dateline special on Innernet pre-verts.

But still. I was fascinated by chat. Every now and then, someone would mention something they had run across on the “Internet.” “What’s that?” I’d ask. “What else is there beyond chatting?” They tried to explain it. I didn’t buy it. I opened my browser window a few times. Poked around here and there. But I just found it all to be boring. There was no interaction. It was just… pages. Like in a book. Information that I didn’t have a particular interest in, information that didn’t change. I figured if I ever needed that stuff I’d just go look it up in an encyclopedia, then closed my browser window and went back to chat.

It’s safe to say I didn’t get it.

Even when I went to college, I still didn’t get it. I still primarily used my connection for chatting. This reluctance to use the Internet for informational purposes was also not helped when my professor from my very first class freshman year decided to jump on board with this whole “online thing” and email us our first assignment. With a MASSIVE virus. MASSIVE. We all crashed. My computer was brand new. Brand. New. I ran as much anti-virus stuff as I could get my hands on, but the old girl was never the same. Haunted does not even begin to cover it.

By the time I graduated from college and had procured an un-haunted laptop, I was starting to grasp the whole browsing thing. In fact, reminiscent of my Prodigy days, I went overboard. Being at my first job, having no clue what I was doing combined with free access to my own connected computer all day, I was online ALL THE TIME. Yahoo. CNN. The New York Post.  MapQuest. Random links from friends. Constant Googling of anything that popped into my head.

But I still didn’t get it.

After a couple of years I settled in to my current company, and in my first role I had to do some work with the company’s intranet. All I had to do was write for it, then follow a couple of simple steps to post the content up on the appropriate site.

I was in love.

Before long, I was doing entire site redesigns – obviously not from a development side, but from a content management/communications perspective. After begging my boss, I stopped having to create content for most of it. I could focus entirely on site architecture and organization - again, not as a developer, but in terms of marrying what was perfect from a communications perspective with what the developer could realistically do without having to kill me. Considering the fact that almost 4 years later the developers still talk to me, even though they don’t have to, I think I did OK.

But the intranet could only go so far. Since the intranet fascinated me so much, in my spare time I began taking another look at the Internet as a whole, this time from a larger communications perspective instead of “how can I be entertained.”

Holy schnikes.

A whole new world had sprung up! There was music! Video! Something called MySpace! And people were doing things in about 500 million different ways.

Well. I wanted in.

So my next role within the company was focused on the “real” Internet. I moved into something of a hybrid between account management and online marketing. And I dug it. The online marketing part. Not so much the account management. So I quit… and just did the online stuff. For my whole team. I built websites. I created email campaigns. I edited standing marketing platforms to keep the content constantly updated and refreshed.

OK. Enough with the resume. But you get the idea.

So then I started thinking… what else can the Internet do? What all is out there that I can take advantage of?

Would you believe I didn’t know how to use an RSS feed until about 3 months ago?

Now I follow blogs and content communities (I’m sure that’s not the right phrase, but, hey, I’m learning) through my feed reader – that’s where I keep the stuff I like personally. That’s where I can check out the latest from people like Seth Godin, Ian Lurie, and David Vinjamuri. I’m relying on them and folks like them to catch me up on all the experience I missed because I was too busy chatting. Also within my iGoogle I have more feeds that I consider primarily work-related - I keep my feedreader on my home computer’s browser and my work-related stuff on my iGoogle, accessible from anyplace.

Did I mention I USE iGoogle? I also use Twitter, Technorati, WordPress (obviously), Facebook, eHow, LinkedInSphinn, StumbleUpon, and Flickr. I’m thinking about using Digg, but something about it doesn’t appeal to me. Not sure why. I’m incredibly interested in things like SEO (note that the words in my headlines now always start with a capital letter, thanks SlightShadySEO) and blog optimization and targeting (note my not-quite-passing thought that I devote this blog to Gordon Ramsay which Pocklock wisely talked me out of, suggesting I make Ramsay part of a variety of topics I write about instead of the sole subject). I’m trying to teach myself HTML (then XML then CSS then everything else) so I have more flexibility with what my online presence looks like.

So I don’t know anything about the Internet. Now. But I will. I’m coming into this late in the game – I’m a late adopter, remember? – but I’ll get there.

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