Draft 3 Web Designer Miami Blog

About the draft3blog:
Although, as a web designer, I should know better, this blog covers random topics: food, design, what's on tv, florida, things I like, things that irk me. You know, miscellany.

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Never Go to Bed Mad 97

Sunday, July 11, 2010

A recent plot line of one of the funniest shows on tv, Modern Family, was that people don't change. Well, maybe they can change 15% of their personality, but the other 85% you better be able to live with, cause it's not going anywhere. There's a massive self-help industry out there, founded on the premise that people can change and DO change. Here's my two cents: you can change what you wear, you can change where you live or work, you can change spouses or hair color. And maybe, maybe through years of intense effort, insight, therapy and possibly chemical enhancement, you can change a few things about how you react to the world. That's the 15% folks. That's it.

Not too long ago, courtesy of a massive social networking site, I reconnected with my elementary school classmates. Know what? The kid who was really into vampires in third grade -- he's still into vampires. (Though now, courtesy of Twilight, there are millions of 15 year-old girls who also share his enthusiasm.) The kid who drew muscle cars all during math class, now has actual muscle cars. The pretty girls who always had the boys attention are still pretty girls who still have the boys' attention. The funny kid? Still funny. The shy quiet ones who stayed in the back and read books? Still quietly reading books. Sure, there's more or less hair, bigger or smaller waistlines, a few wrinkles around the eyes, a couple of hard knocks or triumphs in life ... but it's amazing how much of the ten-year-old is still there.

Is there anything more frustrating than having someone tell you, "That's just how I am. I'm not gonna be different." especially if it's said to justify what you believe is easily changeable behavior. Really? That's just how you are? A person who's incapable of picking up socks? I didn't realize that sock-picking-up was genetically programmed into human DNA. If I'm honest about it, I concede it wouldn't be too hard for me change a lot my behaviors. I could floss every morning, work out, use fabric softener. After all, if my boss asks me to run the Net Usage report every morning, I do it. But that's just scheduling tasks ... what are the things about myself that I really can't change, even if I see the upside to it?

For as long as I can remember I've been a 'Never Go to Bed Mad' type of gal. I'm not saying fight until the sun comes up, I'm saying if you can't agree on everything, at least get some points of agreement down, tell the other person you still care about them and you'll work out the rest tomorrow or the next day. When I fight with someone I care about: friend, family or other, I can't stand it when the fight ends on a bad note with each party stomping silently off into their separate corners. I wouldn't say I'm hot tempered. Not like Sophia Loren in a De Sica movie. But I can flare up. I'll run off and stew for a bit, but I've got about an hour and a half before I want to go back in and make it right. Sometimes I go back in and make nice or apologize, sometimes (not often successful) I go back in and try to get the other person to see it my way ... again. At most I've got three days of grudge holding in me. If it goes much longer than that, either I wasn't aware that we were fighting or I really don't care that much about the other person.

One of my earliest memories is getting punished for something, perfectly justified I'm sure, and sent to my room. After about an hour of crying and feeling persecuted, I came up to the surface and started waiting for my mother to come back into my room and invite me to rejoin the family. Which never happened. She was more of a "Learn your lesson" type of parent. I was more affected by the idea that I could have been left in my room forever than I was by the fact that I had done something wrong. (Actually, I'm sure I eventually slinked out of my room and rejoined the family without a word being said.) In fact, the lesson I learned wasn't "Don't pull the cat's tail" or "Don't kick your brother" or whatever my infraction was. The lesson I learned was, "You won't be forgiven, not officially anyway" It wasn't bad parenting, and I had not made a very lucid assessment of the situation. But that's how I thought when I was five. And a lot of that five-year-old is still in there.

As unshakeably prejudiced as I am in favor of the "Never Go to Bed Mad" approach to handling disagreements, I can acknowledge that there are other viable approaches. Intellectually. I know there are people who have to take a time out to process a fight. And it might be a long time or a short time. But they need to be left alone until they're ready to work it out. My sister is one of those. It used to make me nuts. When I'm dealing with a "Leave me alone until I'm ready to handle this" type, all I can think is "But the world is turning on it's axis, people! We're burning daylight here! We're all marching closer to the grave! How much more time are we going to waste being mad at each other?" And even if the other person has the consideration to tell me, "I need a little while here, nutjob. I promise we'll work it out later," which I really do appreciate, I turn into a grown-up version of the kid on a long car ride. "Are we there yet? What about now? Now? How about now. Are you ready now?" It's a problem. I don't handle it well. And I've lost people because of it.

This is not to say that I go chasing after every person I've fought with, carrying a bunch of forgive-me-please violets in my hand. Once or twice the fight has been a real dealbreaker. And once or twice it's happened with a "Leave me alone until I'm ready to handle this" type, which is even worse. I've had someone contact me eight months after a fight. "You still mad?" he asked. Still mad? Buddy, I was over it seven months and 27 days ago. "But that wasn't the first time you said 'I never want to see you again,' so how was I supposed to know that you really meant it that time?"

Well, you know how I reached out to you within twenty-four hours the other times, but this time you didn't hear from me -- um, ever? That's how. Einstein. The five year old in me was still saying, "You never tried to know me at all, did you? If you had done anything, anything at all, seven months and 27 days ago, there might have been a chance, but you just couldn't bring yourself to do it." That's the 85% talking.

I can try to be neater, or wake up earlier or learn how to speak Japanese. But I don't know if I'll ever learn how to get over that feeling of being alone in my room waiting for someone to forgive me and take me in again. Even though I know getting over that feeling would be much more useful in my life than learning Japanese.

Categories: Self-Doubt, Humor
Num of Responses: 0

My social media / cooking icons 94

Sunday, April 25, 2010

I've been doing some things with social media lately. Not in my real life. In my work life. But then I started thinking (heh-heh). I love making food ... and I like making tiny icons ... why don't I combine them somehow? And voila, a set of tiny social media icons with a cooking theme was created. I'll probably revise or add to the set at some time, and maybe figure out a way to get them on my own blog. Anyway, these .gif and .ico files are yours to enjoy. If you do re-use, please re-use responsibly. ( Download zip file here »).

Categories: Design
Num of Responses:

Moi said:

Papa smurf? Yoikes.

R said:

Oh Papa Smurf!

R said:

on my Yahoo RSS reader the Icon got cropped. I thought it might be a Smurf Viagra icon...

Chocolate Beer Cake 93

Sunday, April 11, 2010

I was really hoping this cake, made with a generous helping of stout, would taste a little like beer. Hey, I'm a grownup. I can handle it. (Maybe just a tinge of hoppy, bitter, acidity ...) Sadly, this cake doesn't deliver any of that. But it's still a delicious, moist chocolate cake, and I love the concept of the cream cheese frosting on only the top -- just like top of a poured pint of you-know-what. Here's a link to the recipe.

Categories: Random
Num of Responses: 0

The Evolution of Style 92

Tuesday, March 09, 2010

When I was a kid, I remember being completely fascinated by Shaker style. Or maybe it was Quaker style. I probably thought it was more 'Colonial', which in a way it was, but it was really just something spartan, obliquely passed along by the grandparents on the father's side.

It's kind of funny really; what eight-year-old wants a Shaker dining room? No stuffed animals, flowered wallpaper or beanbag chairs ... all I saw in my mind's eye was finely turned spindles and wooden floors.

Unfortunately, this early burst of sophistication in decorating taste was followed by a hippy-dippy phase (college, etc.: blond wood, wall hangings, ethnic rugs) and then by a, what could only be called, 'casual contemporary' period. Dark wood, cushy upholstery, jewel tones, a bit of this, a bit of that. To be fair, it worked with my sort-of traditional townhouse. And, no argument, it was comfortable.

And now, curiously, I find myself returning to those very spare Shaker-ish roots, in a way. I'm becoming a modernist. Which I never thought I would be. No clutter, just chair rails and wood floors. In my pursuit of clean lines I am only restrained by my finances -- and of course my knowledge. Off to learn more, all apologies to the Shakers and Quakers.

Categories: Design
Num of Responses: 0

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