Social Media, the chicken-shit way:

Walk around an event with my Squee-PC out and wait for people to talk to me because I’m too shy to talk to them.

Hey, whatever works!

Update: So far, it’s worked 5 times in about 10 minutes.

Another update: Okay, it worked about a dozen times in total.

So, I’ve been trying to integrate myself somewhat into the Vancouver blogging community, which seems to also be the Vancouver Social Media community. I don’t really see myself as much of a social media person, but I came to a startling realization tonight:

I spent a good part of tonight in a room jam-packed to the brim with other people, walking around with my SqueePC out so I could check email, Twitter, my blog, and Flickr all at the same time. If that isn’t social media, I really don’t know what is – while I’m still working on the whole “social” aspect of things, I certainly have the “media” down to an almost obsessive neon T.

So, yeah. I made me laugh at myself.

In addition to the make-people-talk-to-me-via-tiny-computer method of interaction, I also recruited Gill for an experiment tonight – we deposited our Moo cards on various tables at the event. I’m thinking about suggesting this for the next big nerd shindig, but almost everyone I know has Moo cards or some variation of – and doesn’t do much with them. I’m a hearty example of this, as I have three sets of business cards and at least two sets of Mini cards. Why do I have them? Well, in addition to being in love with seeing my name and photos in print, I got them so I could trade contact information with people. Here’s the catch, though – I’m almost pathologically shy around people I don’t know; the very people I would want to be trading contact info with. As it stands right now, I give my Moo cards to people who already know me. That isn’t exactly the point, so I propose doing this:

To anyone who has Moo cards but routinely forgets to offer them up for trade and/or hand them out, period: start leaving them lying around. It’d be cool to have a table at these fancy social media events where people could just leave their Moo cards and pick up someone else’s – follow a URL, check out some photos, email a stranger. Obviously you’ve been in the same place as that person, so let’s take it one step further and maybe e-meet the people you didn’t get a chance to meet in person. That way, chickenshit people like me can still stay within the relative safety of our own social circles, but maybe get to check out a blog we hadn’t known existed.

Or maybe I’m the only one with this neurotic fear of meeting new people.

Anyway, I have Moo cards. I want to trade with people. Give me your Moo cards. I have no use for a hundred cards with my own contact information; I know who I am. Who are YOU?

If anyone got here because they picked up one of my cards at the BarCamp party, hello!

I will stop talking now. I think I absorbed a lot of Gill’s beer through osmosis and am drunk by association.

I figured everyone’s Friday afternoon could use a little tantrum dancing by Kevin Bacon.

.. sort of.

Last night I destroyed our living room in a frenzy of half-assed reorganization. I’m trying out Shan’s old desk and if I like the setup, will purchase it from her. The new desk is drastically different from my old one in that it is a giant table and my old desk was a ladder to the heavens. I have no shelves. I miss my shelves.

Or do I? My old desk has long since been a joke to my friends, because when the Big One hits I will undoubtedly meet my demise buried under an avalanche of toys:

The new-to-me desk is much bigger, meaning I don’t need to have a secondary table to house my other monitor and my MacBook. In fact, I can easily have all four computers up and running on my desk with ample room for a printer and other assorted necessities like cats, Diet Coke, iDevices, and more. So far, I like it. I might like it more when I have the rest of the living room dealt with – it’s kind of a disaster right now – but we’ll see.

I’m torn on the lack of shelving. On one hand, I clearly need space for my many, many toys. On the other hand .. well, it might be kind of nice to accidentally bump into my desk and NOT have the world fall down on my head. The walls of our living room are a really nice green, and with my new setup I can see it instead of a disorganized crap basket of hell. My original plan was to visit Ikea sometime this weekend and buy some shelving units, but now I’m waffling. At the moment I’m leaning towards getting some additional drawers, instead – surely my toys will be just as fun sitting inside a drawer as opposed to on my wall.

I wonder how long I’ll be able to keep my desk free of any extra tiny things. I give myself a week, tops.

I would like a magnetic white board, though.

Oh, the options!

Awww yeah.

TEAM NO BABIES

Better picture coming later, including one of the back!

I had another early morning web conference today. Knowing what to expect and unable to use the internet to pass the time, I brought in pencil crayons and made a picture:

This image depicts what I imagine I missed after I left the bar last night: Darren whipping out his penis and doing the helicopter, with a delighted Josh and frazzled Reilly taking drunken pictures. Two innocent passers-by are shocked and traumatized by the mesmerizing twirling doodle, and Darren is very pleased with himself. Note the details: lots and lots of beer, Darren’s trucker hat, Reilly’s enormous flash, and Josh’s drunken bubbles. Truly, I am less an artist as I am an artiste.

I don’t normally set up meetings, but since these two past Thursday meetings were my doing, I brought in breakfast. Last week I hit up Tim Hortons for donuts and muffins, but this week I was feeling lazy and damp so I stopped at Save-On to pick up some food. I ended up getting Pop Tarts and a fruit platter, which I figured would please both ends of the dietary spectrum. I was amused to note that by the end of the meeting, all three boxes of Pop Tarts were cleaned right out while not one person had touched the fruit platter. Heh! More for me, then.

I am absolutely in love with the Camera Bag app for the iPhone. It’s a little tool that allows you to take or load a picture, then apply one of five filters to it: Helga (a Holga-esq tool that features washed-out colours and nifty corners), 1974 (faded and orange), Lolo (Lomography – white border, bright colours), Cinema (dark and cropped), and 1962 (black and white newspaper-esq pictures). John writes a better review here, but I am so digging on this application – it’s well worth the $4.99. Here are some pictures I’ve taken:

Fun.

Today is apparently Celebrate Bisexuality Day! Hooray!

I never did get a birthday cake; surely I deserve a cake on Celebrate Bisexuality Day.

It’s a glorious day to swing both ways!

Without Ed and his law-laying prowess, I was powerless to stop the onslaught of  horrible wet pointy beasts last night. I’m already not feeling so hot, I did something terrible to my left foot at some point this weekend, and I didn’t sleep longer than 30 minute stretches last night thanks to the evil, rotten beasts all up in my business. I am exhausted, and I look terrible. I am unkempt, frumpy, speckled and cranky. None of those are good things.

I had an excellent yesterday though, which almost makes up for my appalling lack of beauty sleep. After a delicious breakfast at Stella’s on Commercial, Josh and his harem of sexy ladies went to the Retro Flea Market at the Croatian Cultural Center. The women folk picked up some cool things – my share included four little green and orange ceramic basket things that are cute and confusing as I have no idea what I’ll use them for, and an awesome vintage typewriter in a suitcase for $15 – while Josh looked at cameras and took many pictures. I also finally got the ring appraised. Verdict: It’s real; would probably sell for $700 new but as it is now (with scratches and slightly beat up) would get $250-350. It’s not the highest quality piece of jewellery but it’s definitely not costume, and I was recommended to just enjoy it – which I shall. It’s pretty, it fits me, and it has a good backstory. Also, found treasure. What’s not to love?

Most of the surprisingly beautiful Sunday was spent outside Doing Things, but by 6pm I was worn out and more than ready to turn in. I spent the evening on the couch with cats and cookies, then turned in to get no sleep at all and also await Ed’s return. He should be back early this evening. Hooray!

You should look at my Friday night pictures.

Here is a picture of a kitten to motivate you:

Last night I threw off the shackles of boredom and did a bunch of things that were totally out of character for me: I ate a steak at 10pm, I did something technically foolish, and I willingly paid a cover to go to a bar at midnight.

Most of the gang had gone to a fringe show on Granville Island, and while I wasn’t really feeling up to that (plus a play is just a live movie, and we all know how I feel about movies), I was still bored out of my ass and leapt at the chance to join them afterwards at the Keg. I hopped on my scooter just after 9pm and made my way there before their meals were served. I hadn’t planned on eating, but the smell of meat soon overwhelmed me and I found myself ordering a steak. It was almost 10 by the time it arrived, but I wolfed it down anyways – I was evidently hungry, and it was very tasty. We sat around for a while talking, then spilled out into the glorious night.

It was overcast but extremely warm outside, and I was just itching to take some pictures. Being on Granville Island at 11pm is something I’ve never done before and wouldn’t really have any reason to suggest to Ed, so I took advantage of my singlehood by (in addition to flirting with boys via SMS) deciding that I would stay outside and Do Things. The group split up at this point – Tanya went home, Reilly and Miranda dropped a still scooterless Shan off somewhere then turned in for the evening, while Josh, Darren and I stood around thinking of things to do. Normally Josh would be up for picture taking, but he didn’t actually have his camera on him – I was alone for this one. The boys needed more beer, so Darren took a cab home while Josh followed him on the Ruckus and a plan was made – we were to meet up at the Railway Club downtown.

In the meantime though, I was on my own on this gorgeous night with no plans and no one to answer to. On my way out the door I grabbed my tripod at the last second to act as a weapon should I need to beat someone’s head in – but since I was here, I might as well take some photos. I’m sure this isn’t the safest thing I could have done, but I spent close to an hour and a half walking around the bowels of Granville Island by myself in the dark, taking pictures. It was eerie and deserted and beautiful. I loved it. It’s not really something I could do under normal circumstances, because Ed and I seem to act as a mutual wet blanket sometimes – I can’t really explain it, but had Ed been home chances are highly likely we would have passed on one or all parts of last night – the Keg, picture taking, and the bar. I certainly wouldn’t have been on my own to wander around, and I wouldn’t have wanted Ed to have to accompany me just for the sake of my not being jumped and stabbed under the crane – being single for the night was the only way this could have been successfully pulled off and I chose to make the most of it.

Just after midnight, I started to be a little spooked by my own lack of common sense and I packed things up. I was still supposed to meet Josh and Darren at the bar, but was going to skip it until I scooted downtown – it was still really nice out, I didn’t have anything better to do, and hey – let’s go to the bar. I parked Oscar across the street from the Railway Club, paid the $10 cover to get in, and stood around looking absolutely shell shocked until Josh came to find me. I don’t do bars, you see, and being in a large place packed with sweaty drunk strangers kind of freaked me out. Luckily J and D were in a relatively people-free corner, so we sat and they drank and there were pirates and punk rockers and old people and it was a good time. Darts were played, sort of, and I ruined everything for everyone by getting a bull’s eye somehow.

Around 2am I decided it would be best if I were getting home, so I waved goodbye and hopped on Oscar. The boys were still going strong – I think they ended up at another bar, and there were shenanigans – but I was home by 2:15, in bed by 3, and lights out at 4. Sure, I didn’t get much sleep what with the four cats fighting on top of me and alternating who got to drool in my face for love, but I’m still content.

It’s a rainy horrible Saturday, but I have nowhere I need to be, a cupboard full of Diet Coke, a cat eating my pizza pop remains off my plate, and a kitten sleeping on my shoulder. It is good. There are plans for tomorrow that will keep me distracted from the whole “anniversary minus the husband” thing, I still have a lot of Diet Coke, I’m feeling much better, and I got some great pictures last night. I like being me.

Good news: the bottle of olive oil didn’t break when it fell on the kitchen floor

Bad news: the lid flew off mid-tumble

I have a big mess to clean up now.

Yesterday’s sniffles and sore throat blossomed into something much nastier last night. We had to do groceries for Ed’s upcoming road trip, and I must have looked just awesome – a sniffling, dripping mess who could barely stand up and was seriously thinking about throwing up in the canned fruit aisle. I made it home and collapsed into bed, and many hours later I am still here. I would probably feel better if Lemon wasn’t trying so desperately hard to make sweet love to my MacBook, but we will both live.

Ed is on his way to Edmonton. He planned to leave this morning around 4am, but that was some mighty wishful thinking – he was on the road by 7, which is still plenty early. As of 10am he was in Kamloops. He should make fairly good time there, since I’m not in the car – I tend to have to pee every 100km or so.

So, I’m home alone and sick and bored. Bill Kurtis is on my TV telling me about American Justice, Lemon is pissing me off because I’m cranky and don’t WANT to be bitten, and there is no one to fuss over me and make me feel better. There’s really only one thing to do: read Cosmopolitan. That’ll help, right? I can learn such life-changing things like:

• 15 date ideas he’ll be into
• How long guys want sex to last
• His Body: the non-verbal clues that let you read his mind!
• How to be just bitchy enough
• Outrageous things chicks do in bed – like the crazy hot firestarter technique

Oh yeah. I’ll be feeling better in NO time, and will be a sexual dynamo to boot! Thank you, Cosmopolitan magazine!