I have one of those upper respiratory things. I sat here yesterday after class, writing stuff and analyzing stuff and strategizing for people, happy as a couple of clams, and gradually found myself coughing, sneezing, sniffling, and generally being miserable. I went to bed early, and plan to rise above it today. And possibly to go buy some strong drugs to help me in the effort of rising above it.

Chanthaboune and I were turned down on our book proposal. This isn't actually bad news. We don't have time to do it, and we were finding the process a bit rocky, so it's just as well. However, it hurt our feelings.

How unreasonable is that?

Fortunately, we were able to commiserate with each other. We did this via IM, saying oh well they hurt our feelings by failing to appreciate our essential awesomeness but we'll get over it. And indeed I'm over it now.

I hope to get over my ailment just as quickly.

I need to finish reading The Agency and do my review before the 2:00 ceremonial hovering over the F5 key. Yes, it is Vine Day. It's also paper grading day, and I still have lots of work to do, and if I'm able to rise above this false claim from Satan (I don't actually know anything about the Church of Christ Scientist, but I've read that this is how they cope with ill health, and I prefer to think of all illnesses as false claims from Satan until proven otherwise) then it is also a possible makeup day on that walk with Janalisa.

So let's talk about statistics.

This is sort of like yesterday in class, when the class poet allowed me to read the conclusion of his paper aloud. It was quite beautiful, consisting as it did of a long string of images: a widow, a rose, the preacher reading out the passage, "Surely goodness and mercy will follow me, and I will dwell in the House of the Lord forever." It was also composed all of simple clauses divided by commas. I commented on the excellence of having a paper that ends satisfyingly without having to have a contrived conclusion, and on the beauty of the language, and on the dreamlike quality induced by the rhythm of the phrases -- but also reminded the students that in prose it's customary to break the paragraph up into sentences.

"I don't know that we all really need to talk about commas again -- " I started.

"Oh, go on," said a guy in the front row. "You know you want to."

So I guess I'm also going to talk about numbers.

A client emailed me this morning to share feedback from someone else in his firm suggesting that we focus on the cost-cutting benefits of his new product instead of what we were doing. I felt that I had to point out that it wouldn't necessarily be a cost-cutting measure for all his audience, and that shifting our focus in the way his colleague had suggested might make that sort of obvious.

I was perfectly willing to do it, though, I assured him. "Numbers are my friends," I wrote, "and I can see ways to use them to make the point we want to make."

I then paused. I had just sent this guy a report last night, stuffed with numbers, showing how my services had helped him.

Now, it is true that my services have helped this guy. The numbers are accurate, and a true reflection of the progress his website has made in the mere two weeks we've been working on it. I've only invoiced him for about five hours, so it's a great return on investment, and something to celebrate.

But should I really point out to him just how friendly I am with numbers? He already knows that words are my friends, and has seen me spin things on his behalf. If I offer to pick and choose data to achieve whatever effect he wants to achieve, will that perhaps cause him to wonder whether the data I send to him is trustworthy?

I think that one of the reasons we ought to teach math and science properly in schools is so that people are able to go to raw data and interpret it for themselves, rather than relying on reports from other people. "Lies, damn lies, and statistics" being the three kinds of false information is only true if we can't check up on the things we're told.  If we know enough about information and its uses to be able to evaluate reports, then we're not at the mercy of the press or advertisers or... well ... people like me.

I erased that sentence and rephrased it in a way that didn't cast suspicion on all the data I ever provide. He has access to the raw data himself, and can check it if he cares to, and see exactly what I saw. But when it gets right down to it, it's hard to offer to massage figures for someone and still sound trustworthy, isn't it?

Something to contemplate.

I know someone who's looking for a fulltime remote coder for a job he swears is not tedious. If you know anyone really good, let me know.

I got my secret entry code (not the same as "code" in "coder") for the Expert Reviewer gig, but fortunately there's nothing there for me to read yet. I say "fortunately" because I really don't have time right now. I also got the score for the new arrangement of "When I Survey the Wondrous Cross." And a passel of articles to proofread and review for a new local online magazine. And a new site architecture for the website of the Rabbi I was telling you about. Read his seriously thought-provoking article about heaven if you need a good read this morning.

I'm not sure what I need this morning besides more sleep. I stayed up late last night chatting with a client. I'd gotten home after Tuesday class and done a little bit of work, and was chatting with him about it, and somehow the convo on donation buttons turned into an actual conversation.

Also, when Janalisa showed up for our walk yesterday, I was at a client meeting which had mysteriously morphed from site architecture to a generalized comfort session. While it is easy enough to say, "Okay, then we'll just remove those extra navigation elements, and I have another appointment now," it's harder for me to walk out on someone who is sharing her hopes and fears.

In the course of discussing the need for a good coder last night, I incautiously trotted out my view that coders (one of the varieties of computer guys which you might describe as IT) aren't sociable and that's why I don't know any. This is of course mere stereotype. But if it were true, it might be because any hints of sociability can so easily evolve into actual friendship, and then how would you ever meet that deadline?

Nope, the best thing is to keep your head down and your fingers on the keyboard.

This is also what our church organist does. We thought initially that he was desperately shy, but later we decided that he just doesn't want to get sucked into friendships, because he has no time.

I'm talking this morning in class about conclusions. It can be very hard for people to end their writing. I notice this in people unaccustomed to public speaking. They get up and start talking, and then can't figure out how to end, so they keep rambling on. It happens in writing as well. Students get to the end of what they have to say and then decide that they have to write a conclusion, and they end up with something meaningless that says, "I know I'm supposed to have a conclusion."

At xanga, this doesn't happen, even when your post is entirely composed of sleep-deprived rambling like this one, because you can always just say, "Time to get ready for work! Gotta go!"

Class yesterday was good, and the meeting was also good. There was a point at which I had that feeling as though my brain couldn't keep up. I like that feeling, don't you? It took place while trying to sort out the best of all possible site architecture for the Rabbi's website, which involved a few little engineering issues, as well as questions like Suppose you were googling for some clarification of for example the weird story of Tamar and Judah and you encountered an MP3 lecture on the subject, what navigation path would cause you to become a regular visitor?

"Can you even envision this?" I asked The Computer Guy. He showed me a Hindu religious site. It was very pink and ornate. I quite liked it. I don't think I actually go to any religious sites at all, except for online Bibles and hymnals. Worship helps, I guess (that is, suggestions for what hymns to use on a given Sunday when you use the lectionary). But not sites for religious study. The only Christian site that comes to mind is ProtestantErrors.com, and I don't think I have that URL right. But I did find quite a cool website discussing appropriate colors for websites for various religions.

The plan had been that after the meeting, I would go to the bank and get some cash and go buy shoes, which I need to do. Hard to believe, huh? I mean, I just bought shoes, like, a year and a half ago. And now I have to do it again. But the bank was closed, and going home to collect some other form of payment would have made the errand too long, so I went to the bookstore to check out hunting magazines, because I'm also doing a big game hunter's website, and not being very sure that I've caught the voice correctly. This is something else that makes me feel as though the think I'm trying to think about is too slippery.

Next was lunch with Janalisa. I arrived at the meeting place before she did, and passed the time with a couple of ladies from the Master Chorale who happened to be there. Janalisa and I talked about families, health, business, and church, so my brain was back to normal by the time I got home. The client for the Rabbi's website was available to discuss web architecture, I got a preliminary draft of the hunter's website written, and while I didn't finish anything, I did feel as though I had accomplished something by the time La Bella came to pick me up for Master Chorale.

The fugues, I am startled to report, didn't make me feel as though my brain was unable to keep up. In fact, the terrible experience of playing bells for a year or two has really made a difference in my ability to read music. I am practically literate. The people I sing with have been telling me this, but I haven't really felt it. So that was kind of exciting.

Master Chorale also involved girlish fun with getting a birthday cake for the director and walking around in laughing groups. I have intended, ever since I was about 30, to become one day one of those older ladies who go around in groups like teenage girls, laughing and having fun. They always seemed, when I was struggling with time and money and work and relationship issues, to have transcended all those things and emerged into a really good place in their lives.

Today I have lots of computer work, and a virtual meeting, and Janalisa is coming over to drag me away from the computer for a walk, and then I have Tuesday class, which can involve girlish fun and/or mental slipperiness, you never know.

Yesterday I stayed home and made a nice breakfast for my family: miniature quiches, sweet rolls with warm berry sauce, and hot cider. I made two more hot meals in the course of the day, did housework and laundry, and hemmed #1 son's pants. This wasn't exactly my plan for the day, but it was all worth doing.

I also worked quite a bit. For the past month, I've consistently had as much work as I can do, and have had to carry things over from one week to the next. I even turned down a job yesterday. It could be a fluke, but it follows the steps I took to get my billable hours per week up to 20. In general, if you take steps toward some outcome and the outcome takes place, you should be able to infer some connection. At least tentatively. So I'm guessing that I've met that goal, and I can now focus more on the other goals I had for the year.

One thing I did for work was to listen to a lecture by Rabbi Fohrman on the story of Tamar and Judah. This is a weird little story stuck in the middle of the big story about Joseph, the guy with the many-colored coat. Tamar is the daughter-in-law of Judah, and after losing a couple of husbands -- the sons of Judah -- she disguises herself as a prostitute and has sex with Judah, becoming pregnant with twins.

As Rabbi Fohrman said, "Out of all the things God could have told us, why did he tell us this?" I've always found the story a bit off. Maybe you have, too. If so, and if you want to understand it, then you should hear Rabbi Fohrman on the subject.

It was a refreshing interlude in the day. Today, I have a class to teach, a meeting with The Computer Guy about the Rabbi's website, and lunch with Janalisa. The whole day will be a refreshing interlude. Then I have a couple of websites to write. Four, actually. And a site analysis, and an interesting task and discussion with The Midwesterner.

Regarding whom I have to say that he asked for a quick optimization fairly late on Saturday night and I sent it off to the coder, who then contacted me at 5:15 Sunday morning for quick feedback. Having given it, I then found myself back in conversation with The Midwesterner. It is somewhat horrifying that I was actually at the computer at both those times, but this is the sort of thing that makes me feel like a slacker compared with the other computer guys. This feeling is one of the main things that keeps me from getting to the gym, keeping the house decent, and eating properly, not to mention making anything that isn't composed entirely of electricity.

I'm going to overcome it.

We had a very nice college visit, and I'm very impressed by the school.

We're connoisseurs of these events by now, and I think you can tell a lot about a school not only by the information they give at these events, but by how well they put it together, and with what kind of style.

It's an attractive campus, in a town that feels like a very small town, though we haven't looked it up. #2 son thinks it's the same size as our town. It's close to the state's biggest town, which is probably big enough to call a city. One of the parents at our table at lunch was coming from Tampa, so the people at the table from our state were trying to figure these things out for her -- would her kid have to adjust to rural life as well as to extremes of weather?

60% of the students here are from out of state, so I guess they have experience supporting people through these adjustments anyway.

The college is small. #2 daughter had an excellent experience at a small private liberal arts college, and I think #2 son will have an excellent experience here.

We now have to come up with the funding for it.

#2 son is working hard on this. He goes to the counselor's office at his high school every day at lunch time and applies for scholarships of various kinds.

"I've got all my eggs in one basket," he says. It's like when someone asked Bobby McFerrin at a workshop that he did a few years ago whether he'd had a back up plan in case music didn't work out for him.

He didn't, he said. That meant he had to work hard and accept that he might not succeed.

So #2 son, having put all his eggs in this one academic basket and having been accepted, is now committed to working hard to make it happen.

Both #2 daughter and #2 son went to those summer programs where kids stay in college dorms and get a taste of what college life is like. Both chose small private liberal arts colleges. #2 daughter was quite successful with her college career. Neither #1 son and #1 daughter went to those summer programs, both chose a large state school near home, and both have had sketchy college careers. I offer the observation for those parents who are considering sending kids to those summer programs, and/or to small private liberal arts colleges.

Here's the cafeteria.

We attended sessions on study abroad, undergraduate research, financial aid, and what we ought to talk with our kids about before sending them off, had lunch, and then went to the bookstore.

There we picked up the requisite gear: college-specific athletic clothes and a decal for the parental car window.

I once saw a bumper sticker that said, "My money goes tot he University of X. I don't know where my kids goes." At the time, I could kind of relate to that.

Anyway, once the college visit was completed, we came on home.

I had already signed myself out for church this morning (as a musician -- it's not required of the congregation as a whole, though that's an idea) and I think I need a relaxed morning, so I am skipping church today. My sons are scandalized.

However, I have to do some work today. I have papers to grade, and stuff to do in preparation for my meeting tomorrow. I also work with computer guys. One of them emailed me last night about 9:30 asking me to check a new site of his and send suggestions directly to the coder, who was working on it right then. This morning at 5:51 I had an email from said coder, asking for a final check before it went live. This is Sunday morning, mind you, in my own time zone. This kind of thing makes me feel like a slacker, no matter how much I work. I also have a prospective client who wants to chat with me this afternoon. I've been emailing back and forth with them from the laptop.

So, yes, you might be wondering how the whole laptop in the hotel room experience compared with the fantasy version. Not well, frankly. I was imagining having the laptop and a mojito or at least a tall glass of iced tea on the hotel balcony, with the sun glinting off the swimming pool, where I could repair for a refreshing dip once I'd completed my work.

Instead, I was balancing the laptop on the bed, responding to emails while the menfolks watched "Robocop."

I am going to do some little bits of work today. I'm also going to make quiche and apple muffins for breakfast, do some housework, take a good long walk, and sew or knit. I feel as though I've got my work situation well in hand, now, but I need to get the rest of my life back in balance.

I'm sitting in a cheap motel right now. Not that it actually costs less than other motels I've stayed at, but it has neon signs shining through the window, nonstop loud traffic noise, and no armchairs. No bathtub, either, and the shower produces a mist, as though you were standing near a waterfall. It is good that you don't get very wet in these showers, because the towels are the thickness of a T shirt. It's also not very clean here, but it's cleaner than my house, so I shouldn't complain.

We had a good dinner last night, though, at China Town restaurant. There was a man at the table next to us giving a lecture on the history of TV to a six year old, and I learned a lot, too. I had it in my head that there had been a cool bookstore in the shopping center where we were (just north of the exit for Hendrix, in case anyone out there has special knowledge), so we strolled around trying to find it, but to no avail.

Instead, we went to Wal-Mart for shampoo, because we had expected the motel to furnish it for us, not having grasped that it was a cheap motel. I haven't been in a Wal-Mart for years, and I was taken aback by the number of choices of shampoo. All of them were made of water and then either laureth sulfate or ammonium sulfate, so I narrowed it down to the alureth sulfate ones but there were still about a hundred brands.

"I could succumb to advertising and get this one," said #2 son, picking up a bottle of Axe. I suggested that we try to find a neutral one we all could use, but we gave up on that and got Axe for the guys and a water lily and coconut confection for me.

The place was absolutely crawling with people who, on the Friday night before Valentine's Day, had nothing better to do. That seemed sad.

Anyway, today we're going to the college. Before then, I have to go find a cup of hot tea somewhere. This is always a challenge while travelling. I think I have an hour before the guys get up and ready to go, so I think I have time to accomplish the task.

The Sexiest Geek of 2008, according to Wired Magazine's poll, is philologist Hot for Words, who gives YouTube lectures on etymology while displaying her cleavage.

As some of you know, my degrees are in linguistics, a field with which people are generally completely unfamiliar. As a student, therefore, I found that people had no idea what I did. Since I now spend most of my time analyzing language and strategically manipulating it to achieve results with both humans and robots which follow a secret algorithm, I tend to think of what I do as something strongly related to my field of study. However, in daily life the strongest relationship is the fact that people still largely have no idea what I do.

This could change. Hot for Words is said to be hugely popular, and in fact it is her fulltime job -- dressing up in revealing outfits and telling people really ordinary stuff they could easily find in a dictionary. In a sultry voice. My mother used to describe someone as "a superstar linguist," and I always found it a bit of an oxymoron. But this woman appears to be just that. Or at least a superstar philologist. She could singlehandedly lead people all across the country to a greater awareness of language.

Or perhaps not. I'd never heard of her till she showed up in my email inbox. But I would really like to see her replace Paris Hilton as the most recognizable scantily dressed blonde in the nation.

Today, while we're being geeky, is the last day to participate in Sitepoint.com's amazing sale to benefit those suffering in the bushfires in Australia. I haven't heard from my own particular Aussies in a week, though I've emailed to ask if they were okay, so I've been thinking about those fires. Sitepoint is doing more than think. They're giving five full-length books as PDF downloads and charging for just one, with all the proceeds going to the bushfire relief efforts.

You can choose your books. And while reading a book in the form of PDFs is not my idea of the ideal reading experience, it's still both an amazing deal and an opportunity to help out a little bit.

We're going on a college visit this afternoon, and I have a whole bunch of work to finish before then. I'm happy to say that we did finally get that book proposal in. TGIF!

I wrote a website yesterday, and taught a class, and had various bits of correspondence with clients, and then had bells and choir. Today I have papers to grade, and another website to write, and two articles. I'm also hoping to get that book proposal in. Oh, and rehearsal tonight.

Yesterday in class I was talking with the students about the importance of background information. For some reason, I didn't feel like using the laundromat example (in fact, I am so sure that you already know and are sick of the laundromat example that I'm not even going to describe it), so I told them about the time my former son-in-law described in hilarious detail an event on his submarine involving duct tape dresses. They're all men there on the sub, so we had some trouble grasping the story. However, it turns out that when a boat crosses the International Dateline (or the equator, or something), it's customary to party like Mardi Gras. Once we had that essential bit of information, I said, the whole story made sense and our experience of it was completely changed.

I have a military man in the class. I appealed to him to help us on the question of whether it was the equator or some other imaginary line. He didn't know, not being a sailor. However, he put his finger on an entirely different point which I hadn't previously considered:

"Why'd they have that much duct tape? Oh, we've sprung a leak, grab the duct tape?"

Why, indeed. What is it about duct tape that makes people think it's magic?

Yesterday's meeting with the Art Teacher was in fact fun. I got there after having walked uphill for 20 minutes, and I was puffing like a grampus. I used to make that walk routinely and not be out of breath, so it's further evidence that I'm getting old. Walking back down the hill afterwards was a breeze, though.

Fortunately, he was a couple of minutes late, so I had caught my breath by the time he arrived. We had some little business talk, in which I got to make it sound as though my transition to freelancing was utterly smooth, which I guess it was, if you leave out all the angst and uncertainty. Like, if I had been able to see what things would look like now, so that I could have taken all the steps confidently instead of waffling around and wasting time applying for jobs all over the place.

The Computer Guy and I have also added a couple more jobs since I last posted. And Chanthaboune and I are a step closer to getting that blasted book proposal in. The editor actually contacted me to see if we were still interested. Chanthaboune says that makes us even, but I was embarrassed.

A nagging client who is concerned about getting the earliest possble start date was pushing at me chatting with me about his concerns yesterday, and I finally did remind him that I've always been pretty quick for him.

"I always work as fast as is consistent with quality," I said.
"I appreciate your speed," he said, "and your raw intellectual horsepower."

I never think of myself in conjunction with raw horsepower of any kind, but I plan to. Next time I'm walking up hills for long periods of time, for example.

I finished and blocked the front of the Doctor's Bag last night. It looks as though it needs a sterner blocking , doesn't it? It might get one.

Partygirl came over last night for a chat. I missed class last night because #2 son had the car. I usually catch a ride with Partygirl when that happens, but last night I missed her. I therefore sat down and watched Miss Marple and blocked my knitting, and by the time she arrived -- having brought my lesson -- I was quite relaxed. We had a bracing talk about the dangers of thinking we're more important than we really are, amd after she left I got an Adobe screen-share meeting going with Chanthaboune. I love that -- much better than Google Docs, I think. It only works with Adobe programs, though.

And I also had a phone call with another person with a cute accent. Being a computer guy, he emailed first. I continue to love that about computer guys. If everyone just emailed first to say, "Are you free for a phone call?" I wouldn't dislike the phone nearly as much as I do, I think.

Anyway, this guy is from North Dakota. I restrained myself from saying, "You have such a cute accent!" but really, they do. The Empress told me that when she lived in Connecticut, people just couldn't even talk with her because they got so distracted by her accent that they lost track of what she was saying. I get that.

Class this morning, and then I'm writing some websites. Fun, fun, fun.

I was chosen as a reviewer for the Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award, which I think will be like a mix of reviewing books and grading papers. I've been on Amazon's Will Work For Books list for a couple of years now, but this gig is being rewarded with a Kindle, the only piece of hardware for which I've had a truly irrational yen.

You're remembering my desire for a Bamboo drawing pad, but that was just a fleeting fancy. Equally irrational, of course.

I could work for the same amount of time and buy myself a Kindle, but you see I wouldn't. I would buy something dull and tiresome like electricity or tires or something like that.

So I get to read 400 pages of amateur fiction, and that ought to be fun.

I was up at The Computer Guy's yesterday after class. His markerboard is full of projects, and the ones I'm involved in have green squares by them. There were about eight green squares. Projects I'd forgotten about have come through, and new ones I didn't know about, and I've got them out on my calendar. We had fun figuring out how to approach some websites, and then the client arrived.

She's a nice woman. She had shredded up the broken trees at her place, she and her 77 year old mother. She had scrapes and bruises all over her arms, since feeding tree limbs into a shredder is rough work. Not really relevant, either to yesterday's meeting or to today's post, but it's just yet another of the lingering effects of the ice storm.

Anyway, she told us that 15% of the population will be incarcerated at some point during their lives.

I was absolutely amazed.

Then I wrote a website for another British company. The CEO called me on the phone. We get more transatlantic calls than most, and I guess nowadays it's not a big deal, but it was still kind of cool to be talking to someone across the world. He had such a cute accent, too. We were talking about whether the multiple landing pages would be navigationally linked, which may not be that enthralling a topic, but imagine discussing that topic with Hugh Grant. See, isn't that much cuter than just discussing it across the table with The Computer Guy?

Today I have a meeting with the web design teacher I worked with some last fall. We're doing a redesign of the site of a regular client of mine. I think it'll be fun to work with a new designer in physical space. That's rare for me.

Hmm.... the cuteness of the transatlantic phone call or the coolness of working with people all around the world vs. the fun of actually being in the same room with someone and working on a project together. Hard to choose.

The client yesterday emailed me after the meeting that "the feeling around the table was just what I like in a development meeting." I guess I can miss that around the table feeling.

Another thing I'm doing today is working on that book proposal. The editor actually emailed me and said what about it? so I guess we'd better get busy. We've used Google Docs, phone, email, and IM. I don't know how we'll do it today.

Ah -- just got an IM. Hi ho, hi ho, it's off to work I go!