Ok, I was just getting up to leave when I realized that the person at the terminal directly behind me, and in the path I must walk to get to the door, is lookin’ at nudie girl pictures. Ok, lets quickly disect the desparation that some people reach. It’s friggin’ 7.30pm on a Saturday and you’re in a college library computer area downloading porn. What’s that spell? L-O-S-E-R.

Ok. Signing off to go look over that guy’s shoulder… I mean go home and keep reading.

I really meant go home and keep reading.

Stop looking at me like that!

My computer’s in the shop. Unfortunately the shop is in Texas. The friggin tablet feature died on me. Actually its been dead for a few weeks. As in immediately after it got out of the shop the last time. To say this ticked me off would be an understatement. From what I can tell from talking with other Tablet PC owners, I guess I just got unlucky as Tablets seem to have a low failure rate. Oh well. This was the week I could afford to lose it for.

checka it out titles that finally make sense.

The beginning of this week was really tough. I lost all perspective on things and had sunk into a bit of a depression. I still liked the program, but I just felt like I couldn’t make it to the end of the quarter. It seemed like my performance was slipping. I wasn’t absorbing the readings and my last ethnography was a disaster. Or the later description there was more than a bit of hyperbole. Mediocre would be a better description of my participant observation. Ironically I had made some good progress on my thesis. But all and all I was feeling l-o-w. I just wanted to come down, like some junkie cosmonaut… what happened to Cracker anyway?

Finally I realized that what I needed was to take a night off and not feel bad about it. Up until that point, if I allowed myself to get distracted from things I would get ticked at myself and not let go of that frustration. I think that’s been my main problem. So for the moment I’m beyond that. Last night I went home and cleaned and organized my apartment. I feel so much better.

IRB

Sucks. Institutional Review Board. Just because some medical researchers had to go off and conduct immoral experiments on unwitting participants, I need to get what feels like fifteen bazillion releases before I can talk to someone. Double that amount if the person is pregnant. And its frustrating. I blame you for this foodgoat (only one reader of this blog will get that inside reference).

A recent interviewee for a possible thesis topic requested anonymity. Now I’m not sure how much, if at any, I’m able to talk about that interview. Ugghhh! And I really need to beat on the topic and the interview with people to decide if there is something there. Grrrr.

well, I was touching up the blog design, trying to come up with something a little more hybrid. This could also be interpreted as trying to dodge writing up an ethnography that I’m struggling with.

Anyway, I get things to a point that I like them, and then proceed to republish not only my index, but my entire blog. And the worst part of all of this is I realize what I’ve done only when it’s too late to stop it. It’s a weird experience: watching each page of the old design get turned over. Racing through my archive and looking at the old style of pages one moment. Then simply hitting the reload button and finding the new look in it’s place.

I managed to make a few screen captures. But the old look, on any page you select, is history.

I guess its liberating as well. But I always liked aspects of the old design (though the CGI page load time sucked). Still, I feel like I just digitally remastered my past. Created a special edition.