Moving on, letting go

he hardest part of a project for me is deciding that it's finished. Usually it takes getting distracted by something new for me to really move on (this probably goes for some other stuff, too...) because otherwise I just can't let myself stop futzing, adjusting and perfecting. Translation: beating my head against something that just isn't making any more progress. So I have to learn to let it go, move forward.

In case you haven't been following along, in this case I'm referring to my "One Week Website" series of posts (clearly the timing didn't quite work out, but I never really expected it to). I started designing a new resume, and made great leaps of progress... until I ran into a wall attempting to make it perfectly responsive. This actually would have worked fine except that in keeping it super simple I was avoiding @media queries and pretty much everything except some basic CSS (see below).

And it was all going pretty well until I went to make a PDF. I have no idea how print formatting works, from web page to print dialog to PDF, but the margins didn't behave properly, it didn't fit on one page, and the white space looked weird instead of stylish (at least I hope the HTML version looks decent). So I reformatted a bit with those 800px min-widths on the #page-wrap and #content sections. Of course, now the #web and #general skills lists don't float and switch from side-by-side layout to being a single column, which means the 50% layout looks darn silly on mobile.

I tried using sections and header and h1-h6 instead of a flock of divs, and since this is a one use document, I just went with ids rather than classes. Feels wrong, though. At the very least, I have a resume that looks a little better than an old Word document, even if it isn't actually responsive. And! I did finally stop poking at it and just hit print.

body {font: normal 1em Times, serif;}
#page-wrap {width: 75%; margin: 5% auto; min-width: 800px;}
#me {display: inline-block; width: 100%; position: relative;}
#logoname {float: left; width: 25%; min-width: 165px;}
#logoname span span:first-of-type {color: #6C8771;}
#logoname span {color: #4D4D4D}
#contact {text-align: right; position: absolute; right: 0; bottom: 0;}
#content {width: 75%; float: right; min-width: 800px;}
#skills li {text-indent: -0.5em; padding-left: .5em;}
#web {float: left; width: 50%; clear: both;}
#general {float: left; width: 50%;}
#experience {clear: both;}
#learning li {display: inline; padding: 0 0.5em; border-left: 1px solid black;}
#learning li:last-child {border-right: 1px solid black;}

section {border-top: 1px solid black; padding-bottom: 20px;}
h1, h2, h3, h4, h5 {font-family: Baskerville, Palantino, serif; border-top: 1px solid black; margin: 0; padding: 0; display: inline-block; margin-bottom: 2%;}
h1 {font-size: 2em;}
h4 {float: left; font-size: 1.17em;}
h5 {padding-top: 3px;}
a {text-decoration: none; color: black;}
a:hover {color: gray;}
ul {list-style: none; padding:0; margin: 0;}
li {margin-bottom: 1%;}
dl {padding: 0; margin: 0;}
dt {padding-bottom: 1px;}
dd {padding-bottom: 1%;}

Now I just need to figure out if I really want to make my entire resume public on the internet. My feeling is no, not one bit, but then part of the point of doing it in HTML is lost. Still, it was fun to put together, and that's more important anyway.

Books read in Chincoteague (5 of 7): Rereadings

nother weakness: anything with Anne Fadiman's name attached to it. Rereadings is a collection of book reviews that Fadiman ran whilst at The American Scholar literary quarterly. Each review is a rereading of a book the reviewer (usually a writer themselves) had read long in their past. As Fadiman points out, each is more of a mini-memoir than a review of the book itself. Since I seem to currently be into memoirs and essays, this suited me just fine, plus the entire book is making recommendations for further reading! As if I needed more to read!

The eventual conclusion that each review comes to is: Everything Changes but the Past remains the same. The reviewers largely find themselves rereading with more perspective and experience, but remember their old selves, motivations and weaknesses (their ignorance and their bliss) vividly through association with the text. It makes me incredibly happy to hear others talking about their love of books, and how a life of reading has bolstered a life of writing. These aren't great literary accomplishments, these reviews, but they are familiar, as if hearing a friend tell you a long story after dinner in order to make the point: you might like the book, too.

"It never occured to me that the need to catalog the stuff of everyday life might be a sign that the authors I loved were loners and misfits. Normal people, after all, don't stand around at garden parties or lie in bed with their loved ones trying to figure out what even the smallest ordinary gesture means."

-David Samuels, Marginal Notes on the Inner Lives of People with Cluttered Apartments in the East Seventies, a rereading of J.D. Salinger's Franny and Zooey.


Evidence of the superfluity of books in my life: this wee pile was acquired whilst in Sundial Books, currently the best little bookshop in Chincoteague.

Photo post: What happens when I get bored on Sunday afternoon

• I weed. I weed books, I weed clothes, I weed my life. The result is usually a bag of little-used odds and ends that winds up in my parents' house until I see fit to sort through it all (sorry about that). More to the point, weeding also results in realising that 75% of my jackets are corduroy.

• I clean and dust maniacally, including inside things, which leads back to #1, there. This week my small collection of [also little-used] makeup fell victim to my boredom. And then so did my face. Disclaimer: the most makeup I ever wear is mascara, and I have no clue what I'm doing otherwise. 

• I ponder crafty things. Aside from the long list of half-finished projects and box o' mending I've been avoiding (despite having hauled my sewing machine over here) I recently acquired some little green wool balls. There was a big tub of multi-coloured wool balls at Eastern Market a while back when I went with Wortklauberlein, and I fished out some in my favourite colour. Anyone have ideas as to what I should do with them? I was thinking poms for something scarf-like. There are 10.

Signs of weakness, or, On being vulnerable

Unsolicited signs of affection, thoughtful little gifts, unexpected phone calls, showing up at the door unannounced, expressing opinions that you're sure are wrong, or at least unusual, admitting when you hurt and when you love, pointing out mistakes, offering help to friends and strangers...

I know this has been said before, but what's the benefit in hiding yourself? By not expressing our unique opinions and acting as we feel, people stuff themselves into the shapes they think everyone else wants to see. Then we become predictable, at worst, uninteresting and monotonous.

But, in hiding our real feelings, intentions, inclinations and not acting spontaneously or ad-libbing it once in a while, we are also safe. If you don't go to her door at 10 o'clock at night to tell her how you feel, you certainly wont get shut down, but you might also be missing the love of your life. Or at least the love of the next year. If you present what you think is a harebrained idea at the morning meeting, maybe everyone will think you're crazy, but then again, maybe that's just what they need, and chances are more crazy ideas will advance your stagnant career.

So, speak out and risk something every day, perpetuate unexpected deeds, and for heaven's sake, quit stalling your life.

Photo is mine, 9/4/2010 on the drive to Chincoteague, VA.

Conflict of interest

Not to sound schizophrenic, but I have a choice here, and I'm of two minds about it (and they keep fighting. In my head). On the one hand, I could be making money (in theory) off this blog. I could monetize, I could use the $100 Google AdWords coupon they sent me (and look into AdSense, too), I could sell something, I could even put a Paypal donation button on here.

Or I could do none of those things, appealing in part because then I have to do none of those things (I'm not lazy, I just like to conserve time). I could have a beautiful, ad-free blog, affix this lovely ad-free blog sticker to myself (er, I mean, the blog) and skip about on my moral and ethical high ground.



I don't really want to expect revenue from my readers, or plague them with advertisements, or, in general, be a sellout. As a librarian, the point of blogging (and life) is to share information with people who need it (even if they don't know they need it. mwahaha.) I realise that just putting up a couple ads and such isn't really demanding anything more from readers than the rest of the internet does, but heck, I don't want to be the rest of the internet. I want my motives for writing to be pure and simple (not that this seems to generate frequent updates).

On the other other hand, I'm kinda broke.

The conclusion I've come to is that as soon as I stop procrastinating and set things up, I'll do a trial run of Attempting To Make Money With My Blog. Comments and thoughts on this whole thing would be appreciated. I'm likely over-thinking it. I'm also trying out partial syndication, so people who get my blog in a feed reader will need to click through to get the full post. Again, thoughts appreciated.

EDIT: That was a dumb idea. "Short" syndication publishes a fragment, doesn't append so much as an ellipses, and therefore doesn't let the reader know that there's more to be had just one click away. If I could get a "read more" link in there it would be fine. Heck, I say, to heck with that.

There's a Calvin and Hobbes strip that illustrates how I feel about the internet, which I wont post here because I'm sure it would incur all kinds of copyright wrath. It's the one where Calvin is standing outside staring at the stars and he yells "I'M SIGNIFICANT!" pauses, then says "...screamed the dust speck."