Last Night: Epilog

Subtitle: Feline Puberty

When we left the “Cat and Foot” saga, I ran for the couch and left Mrs. eSquared on her own with the cat. Yes, I admit it was cowardly, but running away is a perfectly viable defensive maneuver. It has worked well in the past.

So… back to the problem. The cat has taught himself a new trick; oddly enough, this trick has a name: Feline Masturbation. Yes, this has been confirmed by several dubious internet sources. Here’s one:

Masturbation is a difficult problem to deal with in cats. It is a normal behavior and it is probably pleasurable. This combination makes it hard to discourage. It is not really unusual for neutered cats to learn to masturbate and it may be possible for them to produce some fluid.

In a few cats, this can become (or possibly starts out as) an obsessive/compulsive disorder. If this is a really persistent problem rather than an occasional one, it would be a good idea to ask your vet if there is a behaviorist in your area who you can work with to help resolve the problem. In this case medications for obsessive/compulsive disorders may be helpful. As far as I know, these are the only cats in which medication is likely to help.

Mike Richards, DVM
http://www.vetinfo.com/cmale.html#Masturbation

The brat is about 3 years old now. I don’t know how old that is in cat years, but he sure acts like a teenager. Like any normal teenager, he’s experimenting. I can imagine what’s going on in his little kitty head…

“Sleep… sleep… where’s that lady with the crunchies… sleep… “
“Poop… sleep… hey! You're not the lady with the crunchies! Sleep…”
“Sleep… what’s this… humm… mmm… oooh… that’s nice… That was fun… let’s do that again…”

(sigh) I miss those days... Good times.

Six-Word Story Sunday

A while ago – I don’t remember exactly how long, I stumbled across a blogger that discussed six-word stories. One of the stories he mentioned has stayed with me. It has finally worn me down with its persistent nagging about wanting other little stories to play with, and to be set free from the confines between my ears.

As I write this I am struck by the ominous irony that Hemmingway’s six-word story has… for me… at this time. It’s all clear now. Hemmingway asserted that this was his best work. I don’t know if it is or not… all I know is: I can’t get it out of my mind.

I started this post with the intention of coming up with a few of my own… to keep this one company (as I mentioned a few lines ago). Now… I don’t want to detract from this moment. I will do many more six-word-story Sundays… just not today.

“For sale: baby shoes, never used.”

It may be late...

... but it's news to me

• School bus driver fired for obscene gesture to Bush wants job back

Go Seattle!

• Plastic trash vortex menaces Pacific sealife: study

Talk among yourselves

Added Features!!

Because I am sensitive to the needs of my readers - who are leading increasingly frenetic lives; I am changing the format of this blog.

I am doing away with the connective and transitioning elements of writing. Also, I am limiting my use of articles. In short, I am striving to write clear, concise points of information that you - dear reader, may glean the substance of my thoughts without unnecessary words and the time wasted reading (and writing) them.

For the immediate future, I shall write (and you shall read)...

Bulletpoints.

I Landed a Big One

Many of you know that I have been looking for a post-degree job. If you didn't know... I've been looking for a job since I graduated in June. Four months. WHEW! That's a lot of XBOX.

The skeptic in me doesn’t believe in providence, pre-destination or kismet. I believe Fortuna is beholden to us, not vise versa. I also believe in determinism, but that's another post altogether. Then there's the Forest Gump effect. Others may say its blind luck, or falling ass-over-tea-kettle (whatever that means) into situations of abundance; serendipity.

In August, Mrs. eSquared emailed me a job listing from craigslist. The position was a Technologist/Courseware Designer. It sounded like a dream job to me. Yes, it could be further away from my degree focus, but not much.

I applied via email, thought about how cool it would be to get the job for a few days and promptly forgot about it. When I did remember it, I assumed it met the same end as the other twenty-or-so resumes I pumped out weekly.

Monday, September 25th… they called.

Tuesday, September 26th 1:00pm… phone interview. I thought I totally blew it. I mean the kind of blowing it that is reserved for “what the f*ck was I thinking anyway” responses. The called two hours later for a meeting.

Wednesday, September 27th 4:00pm… In person interview. We went to a little coffee shop in Redmond. Again, I felt I may have only done worse if I didn’t show up… or was naked. They gave me an assignment to complete.

I turned the assignment… late. But I suppose they liked it.

Another assignment… turned in on Saturday, October 14th it was due the 13th. I thought I’d never hear from them again… really, really.

Monday, October 16th 9:00am… they call… owner of the company wants to meet me, 10am tomorrow.

Tuesday, October 17th 9:59am… I run through the office door with a tie on, and a coffee stain on my shirt, arrrrrgh. An hour and a half later I leave.

I start tomorrow.

Somebody pinch me.

Here are the position specs:

Technologist / Courseware Designer

This position involves figuring out how to use specific Microsoft business and developer software (.NET, SharePoint, Visual Studio, BizTalk, etc.) and then working collaboratively with team members to create training courses that show people how to use applications and tools to solve their business problems. Your job will be to create 3-4 “fast track” instructor-led training classes each year. The deliverables include working with a subject matter expert (one of our instructors) in a Program Manager capacity to:

• Define a class outline (spec)
• Create PowerPoint slide decks with text and graphics
• Develop and test hands-on labs
  

Primary Responsibilities:

• Design, develop, and author appropriate training and educational course materials
• Research technical documents and user manuals to leverage training content
• Create PowerPoint slide presentations for instructor-led training
• Install, configure, and test operating systems and business applications
• Carefully document lab steps to meet learning requirements
• Use courseware development tools to create content.

Fifteen Seconds of Fame on Grammar Girl

I’ve recently become addicted to podcasts – subscribed multimedia files streamed from the web. A particular cast has grabbed and held my attention. Grammar Girl is both fun and educational; especially for someone with a left-brain word fetish such as me. Grammar Girl’s podcasts add many more obsessions for my inner-grammarian to obsess over.

Alas, I am not alone. Thinking that I was the only one who lost sleep over the affect vs. effect problem, I called in for Grammar Girls help. She published my call on her site and answered my question. I can finally sleep now.

She also commissioned a cartoon to illustrate the mnemonic that I asked for; way to go Grammar Girl. Although she misspelled my name, I think I’m in love.

Cartoon Courtesy of Grammar Girl at http://www.cafepress.com/grammargirl

Sign Posted in Coffee Shop...

Children left unattended will be given espresso and a free puppy.

For you... dear reader

No doubt you have noticed the calvin avitars I've begun adding to each post. I got the idea from Dave at Blogography. He adds a little image of himself to each of his posts. I have neither the time or the inclination to take a dozen pictures of myself so I chose the Calvin image because he resembles my pic on this page.

Along these same lines... I think I'm going to add another dimentions to this blog: sound. It was such a hoot finding the wav file for the previous post, I thought I'd try to add one or two sound files to my posts.

So... Beginning with this post, I'll add a random sound file to the calvin avitar. Perhaps one that fits my mood, or a favorite clip from a movie. Also, I'll to add sound clips to emphasize some of the content.

Please, let me know if these sound files slow your computer, or boggs your browser down. Also, I'd like the feedback.

And now, a word from our sponsor...

A tasty, summer beer...

As I was writing that last post, I was enjoying New Belgium Brewery's latest offering: Skinny Dip. Its a crisp amber thats got a little spice behind it. Very tasty. If you see it, pick some up, you wont be disappointed.

Just a thought...

I wanted y'all to know... a word that I want to incorporate into conversation this week:

robust

Thank you for your time and attention.

Really Simple Syndication

While spelunking the depths of my geekdom, I found a new passage that takes me to a new low: RSS feeds.

I'd always thought they were something for the hardcore technophile or news junkie. Perhaps they are and I really am such an animal. I don't think so... I'm still hanging on the last shreds of my faux-coolness. What I'm about to write will tear those shreds away.

Simply... ATOM, or RSS feeds bring the content you choose from anywhere on the internet to one, convenient place. You read online papers, e-zines, blocs, boards or whatever... All post to one place. If you ask me, it's pretty darn cool. "How"? You ask. Who knows. Little internet fairies; one overworked web designer? I don't care.

All you need is a reader. Something to travel around the net like a little postal carrier and pick up all your subscriptions. Because I have become a Googlian, I use Google's reader. This way, when someone on my subscription list updates, it shows up on my Google personalized home page.

I'll make this easy for you. Once you have a reader, either click on this icon: on the right of the address bar in your browser, or click on this link: at the bottom of my right sidebar. Then accept the feed. Simple.

Amazing...

I've been fiddling around with StatCounter on this blog. By adding some simple code to the index file of the page, I am inundated with more meaningless data than I know what to do with. On the bright-side... I found this nifty Google map that pinpoints where the people are that read my blog in a day. StatCounter tells me the IP address of my readers, the domain they're coming from, how they were referred to my site and where they are from.

All this to say that I have an audience, albeit small and spread out over the globe. This is a picture of the hits on this site last Saturday, my busiest day yet.

Scars...

I was thinking of the emotional bumps and bruises that we all carry as adults. Someone who said something once, heartache or perhaps an indiscretion that haunts us. These are little dings on the luster of our psychic apparatus that no amount of polish and buffing can transpare.

Uninterrupted, these musings turned to physical scars. Physical scars are funny things. Well, mostly funny things. For some, they are painful reminders of serious trauma that happened without fault. Some are more ominous, and are the result of another's malice. Most of my scars are the result the complete lack of forethought and consequences; either of my part of that of another.

Some of my scars were created just after exclamations such as: "Watch this"! or "Ohmygod"! Famous last words.

There's the scar on my forehead above my right eyebrow. Though I don't remember, the story has me about three years-old. I was jumping on the couch before dinner. Just as my Mom warned me... I DID lose my balance, and I DID crack my head open on the corner of the coffee table.

I have a BB sized dent in my left foot, just below my ankle. Steve Grau wanted to prove to me that his BB gun wasn't powerful enough to break the skin. He was right... it wasn't. But it sure as hell hurt.

I have a scar on my left arm that I tell everyone I got from an oven. That's a lie. I don't talk about that one.

The scar on my right palm is the result of a genius move to separate two cans of Chung-King chicken-something-or-other and the can of crunchy noodles with a big kitchen knife. Mrs. eSquared warned me, watched as I did it, then lovingly bandaged the wound.

Years earlier... right forefinger, first knuckle... I was prying the lid of a concentrated grapejuice can the knife got away from me. No, I didn't learn

Left palm... whittling. Need I say more?

I have various blemishes that are the result of someone telling me, "Don't pick at that"! or, "Leave it alone or it will make a mark"! I didn't, and they did.

One of my best ones is in my right armpit. I was pretty young and playing on the woodpile. Yes, your read that right. Every year, many of our neighbors would contribute and purchase several cords of wood to split up. I mean split figuratively and literally. So... I was PLAYING on the woodpile. This was a good idea only because I was warned against it. If I were given carte blanche... I wouldn't have been interested.

So I'm standing on top of this woodpile... and I am overcome by the impulse to dance to the song "Hey, hey, we're the Monkeys." To know me, is to know that I don't have a coordinated bone in my body... especially at this age. To my awkward body, dancing meant each limb and appendage, including my neck and head, is to convulse independently of each other in twitching and gyrating motions. Reason and balance left me.

I fell on a branch that punctured my armpit. Oh... I was completely alone. We had a neighbor who was a nurse. She was kind enough to stitch me up and come over every evening for a week to change the dressings. She was nice. I hope I thanked her. From then to now... I've never liked that word in that context. Dressing.

Then there is the gunshot scar on my ass. I probably shouldn't post this one on the Internet send me an email and I'll send you the gory details. Well... not that gory... but sure as hell stupid.

There are scars that should be, but aren't. Every year, around the Fourth of July I am shocked and amazed that I still have all of my fingers and toes. My friend Chris and I would do things daily that I see people locked up for on the news today.

I'm sure I've inflicted many scars both physical and emotional. To Chris... I am sorry for shooting you in the pinky finger with a BB gun. It must've hurt like hell. I'm not sorry for laughing myself sick. I'll never forgive you for telling me to go get your fingers after that firecracker had a short fuse. That really freaked me out. Yes you were kidding... I don't blame you for laughing yourself sick.

Just some stuff...

Hello faithful reader... you know who you are.

Just a couple of cool things. First, I've overhauled my eSquared site. A special thanks to Vacant (Chris Blunden) for the source code. Check it out and let me know what you think. I've only done the potal to the other sites. Given time, I'll move through and fix all the glitches, dead or error links and even change some content.

The other thing is Windows Live Writer. Once in a while, the folks at Microsoft produce something that makes life a little easier for us end users. Designed with the user in mind, WLW is an interface to most any blogging application that works like a WYSIWYG (What You See Is What You Get).

As a desktop application (not a web interface) with WLW you can create, edit, save or delete posts. Posts are stored on your desktop. No, Bill Gates hasnt paid me to post this. I just think it's a good effort from the MS collective.

You might need to download and install .NET Framework version 1.1 for WLW to work properly. Get it here.

Plato: "Let no one Ignorant of Geometry Enter"

Ok… went to the store, put the groceries away, and decided it was time I tackled the GRE quantitative assessment. So I’m working along, feeling pretty good about my self. I’m slow, but it’s all coming back. Then… I come to a geometry question. I just sat and blinked at it.

Now I’m disheartened. Needless to say, I’ve put the book away and I’m listening to Van Morrison, and I’m spilling my woes here.

Is it possible to be a college graduate and be decimated by high school geometry? Plato was an asshole… on many levels.

So… on to a meme. I was going to write this big thing on memes as tools of community, like icebreakers. It was going to be brilliant and philosophical. Like Plato, I’m an asshole too.

I got this from Deenerann at My Lunatic Ramblings, who in turn lifted from someone else. Creative Commons, blah blah blah.


The last thing you burned while cooking?

More than likely, popcorn or a frozen pizza. Trader Joes has GREAT ones.

Describe yourself in 3 words?

Smart, silly and sarcastic (Mrs. E2 contribution) Me: Quirky, hypersensitive and
witty

How long does it take you to get ready for your day?

Get ready? Does that mean on bath day, or not?

Are you a health freak?

No, I have neither the discipline or the desire.

How many people have thought you were the one?

I could never be mistaken for a health freak. A freak, maybe, but not
a health freak.

What turns you off about the opposite sex?

Hygiene issues, inappropriate dressing (even if they can get away with it) and
shallowness.

What kind of car do you drive?

Mercury Sable

Favorite thing to toast to?

Friends, a wonderful meal, relationships, good fortune, acknowledgement of hard work and to get hammered.

What celebrity would you have coffee with?

Celebrity huh… Paul Newman, or Kenneth Branaugh

What celebrity would you not have sex with?

Humm… that’s a long list. First, everyone with a Y
chromosome. Of the rest, the top two no-brainers are Phyllis Diller and Joan
Rivers. But now that I think about it... probably anyone on the ‘A’
list. Why? Selfish in Bed and too much plastic.

What is the main ringtone on your cell?

I have a jarring old 40s ringtone. It’s unique and I can hear it for miles (when I have my phone on).

What were you doing at midnight last night?

Watching the new season of Morgan Spurlocks’ “30 Days”

Last TV show you watched?

See above

Who is your best friend?

Second to my wife: John

Who in your family do you get along with?

We get along… the two times a year we see eachother.

What is your top 5 hollywood hottie list?

1. Brenda Strong. 2. Sela Ward. 3. Sandra Oh 4. Mariska Hargitay. 5. Jeanne
Tripplehorn.

Who is the 4th person on your missed call list on your cell phone?

Wife, but not the third or fifth

When/where was the last place you traveled?

Last month… Seaside Oregon. REALLY traveled, on a plane? 2002, Germany
and Italy

How many times have you been in love?

Puppy love… constantly. Real love? Once, and I still am.

How old will you be in 10 years?

49 (gasp) If I get there.

What did the last text message you received on your cell say?

“Hey handsome, I need your home address so I can send you an invitation.” (whoohoo)

What is a saying you say a lot?

"What the F#@&”!

Sinful snacking weakness?

Ice Cream

Best clothing style?

Best for comfort, or look? Shorts, t-shirt for
comfort. Humm… that’s all I wear.

Ever run out of gas?

Nope, I’m too OCD

Ever been to Europe?

Yup, loved it… eager to go back.

Worst date ever?

The whole narration or just her name? Let me say this… h a l i t o s i s.

Personal records?

Yes, I have them… years of them

What would you do if you could be the opposite sex for a day?

I wouldn’t leave the house.

Total jail time?

Zero… Not that I shouldn’t have jail time.

Have a crush on anyone you work with?

No.

In your cd player right now?

Soundtrack from Matrix Reloaded.

What is something you believe in?

Karma. Mean people breed little mean people. Everyone is amazing for something.

What is something you fear?

Unstable heights (looking over guard rails, etc). Going through my wife's
stuff after she's gone.

Big or small?

I have no idea what this means… BIG

Worst physical pain you ever experienced?

I don’t remember physical pain. I have lot's of scars though.

Tell us something about your childhood?

I had an imaginary friend I named Pabby.

Best time to catch you in a good mood?

In the morning, early, after or during coffee. I love coffee.

If you could be anything for a day, what would it be?

I dunno… only for a day? Sounds like a real bummer to have all your
dreams realized then 24 hours later be back in the same position. So…
I’ll say GOD.

Most prized possession?

My family (wife and cat). The rest of it is all fluf anyway.

Would you ever sell it?

If the price is right… just kidding.

What is one of your pet peeves?

Stupid, passive people

Favorite actor/actress

Tom Cruise… again, kidding. He's a chump. I have
lots. Tim Roth, Edward Norton, Ewan McGreggor, Tim
Robbins, Susan Sarandon, Morgan Freeman, Dustin Hoffman Etc...

What song are you listening to right now?

Nothing

If you could sucker punch someone right now who would it be?

Sean Evenson

Any secrets?

Does one person know all of my secrets, no. Do a few people know all
of my secrets, yes. So, do I have anything that no one knows, no.

Unhealthy addictions?

Unhealthy food.

Unhealthy fascinations?

Does watching really stupid shit on TV count?

Favorite sexual position?

All of them (that I know).

What do you notice first about the opposite sex?

Hair, eyes, malformations or disfiguring scars, general body type, sense of
humor, and eyes.

Favorite physical part of the opposite sex?

Other than female? Hair, legs and eyes

Soft sensual sex or porn star sex?

Alternate

Would you go on a date with someone you met online?

If I wasn’t married, sure.

Work attire?

Shorts, t-shirt.

What is your best physical feature?

Eyes

Do you think anyone actually has read this far?

My one reader? It depends if they’re out of rehab yet.

The culture and nature of blogging

I’m relatively new to the world of blogging. I even had to look the word up: web-log. I am captivated and intrigued by the whole idea of blogging. The philosophy, the community and the absence of borders, are all dissertation-worthy topics.
Specifically, I am drawn in by two things:

First, the blogging culture is postmodern, even post-human. The only parts of our bodies that are needed are our mind, and our fingers. Everything else is hyper-real, nebulous and without structure as we are used to it. The pre-condition of the internet collapses time and distance. The blogging culture is real-time.

The second thing is the nature of blogging or journaling. We have a soap-box in our little corner of the world-wide-web. We post our silly thoughts, fears, things that piss us off… we send them out into the great beyond. (As a side note, I’m also intrigued by subconscious self-editing, dramatic embellishment and even self-censorship as a part of blog authorship.) Later, we hear a voice in the distance… “I know what you mean.” The spark of a common thread, and a relationship begins. This relationship knows only the psychic boundaries of each individual. There is no distance; no time changes; even no physical body anchored in the real-world. Just thoughts, passed through fingers, then digitized by a keyboard, and sent through wires as electronic impulses.

We nurture these relationships. We get to know each other, and foster connections. We miss our usual reads when they don’t post. If I haven’t posted, I begin with an apology—a reason or excuse, and then we catch up.

Getting my Shit Together

Many of my mornings recently have been interrupted with this nagging voice in my head compelling me to: “Get your shit together.” The ensuing conversation is merely synapses firing across my caffeine deprived frontal lobe. Supposedly, this is where higher brain functions such as reason takes place. Before coffee in the morning I hold this notion highly suspect. This nanosecond of inner-dialogue goes something like this:

“I need to get my shit together.”
“What shit, and where is it”?
“I dunno… shit, no coffee.”
“Shit… I’ve said shit in every sentence... humm... Where was I”?
“What”?
“Huh… what was I going to do today”?
“Something about shit.”
“Starbucks”?
“Are you kidding? Looking like this”?
“Drivethrough.”
“Ah… d r i v e t h r o u g h.”
“Keys”?
“Keys in pants… I’ll need pants.”

By the time I get back from Starbucks, and the cerebral jumpstart of caffeine, I’ve moved on to planning a day packed with playing Xbox, riding my bike, napping with the cat and both abstract and general ass-scratching.

I go about my day never stringing any connection between the thoughts of Grad School applications, the GRE, gainful employment, meaningful employment, planning my men’s group yearly retreat, studying for the GRE, updating my curriculum vitae, blogging all the fodder that stumbles in my head, reading the stack of books I’ve denied myself for the last four years and cleaning the house all clamoring for attention.

This is the closest thing to a to-do list I’ve done.

I need to get my shit together.

It seems human wisdom and compassion has not evolved as rapidly as the intelligence associated with technology and weaponry.

For this reason, perhaps “human stupidity” actually has survival value for our species. If the mean absolute I.Q. were 150 rather than 100, and if there were no correspondingly increased levels of wisdom and compassion, then perhaps we would have eradicated our species from the planet.

Is stupidity, itself, the long awaited but unrecognized Messiah?

Erik the Fish

I’m told this skit is attributed to Monty Python, and it certainly sounds like something they would do. However, I can’t verify it.

Customer: Hello, I would like to buy a fish license, please.
Shopkeeper: A what?
C: A license for my pet fish, Erik.
S: How did you know my name was Erik?
C: No no no, my fish's name is Erik, Erik the fish. He's a halibut.
S: What?
C: He is...a...halibut.
S: You've got a pet halibut?
C: Yes. I chose him out of thousands. I didn't like the others, they were all too flat.
S: You must be a looney.
C: I am not a looney! Why should I be attired with the epithet looney merely because I have a pet halibut? I've heard tell that Sir Gerald Nabardo has a pet prawn called Simon (you wouldn't call him a looney); furthermore, Dawn Pailthorpe, the lady show-jumper, had a clam, called Stafford, after the late Chancellor, Allan Bullock has two pikes, both called Chris, and Marcel Proust had a haddock! So, if you're calling the author of 'A la recherche du temps perdu' a looney, I shall have to ask you to step outside!
S: Alright, alright, alright. A license.
C: Yes.
S: For a fish.
C: Yes.
S: You are a looney.
C: Look, it's a bloody pet, isn't it? I've got a license for me pet dog Erik, and I've got a license for me pet cat Erik...
S: You don't need a license for your cat.
C: I bloody well do and I got one. He can't be called Erik without it--
S: There's no such thing as a bloody cat license.
C: Yes there is!
S: Isn't!
C: Is!
S: Isn't!
C: I bloody got one, look! What's that then?
S: This is a dog license with the word 'dog' crossed out and 'cat' written in, in crayon.
C: The man didn't have the right form.
S: What man?
C: The man from the cat detector van.
S: The looney detector van, you mean.
C: Look, it's people like you what cause unrest.
S: What cat detector van?
C: The cat detector van from the Ministry of Housinge.
S: Housinge?
C: It was spelt like that on the van (I'm very observant!). I’ve never seen so many bleeding aerials. The man said that their equipment could pinpoint a purr at four hundred yards! And Erik, being such a happy cat, was a piece of cake.
S: How much did you pay for this?
C: Sixty quid, and eight for the fruit-bat.
S: What fruit-bat?
C: Erik the fruit-bat.
S: Are all your pets called Erik?
C: There's nothing so odd about that: Kemal Ataturk had an entire menagerie called Abdul!
S: No he didn't!
C: Did!
S: Didn't!
C: Did, did, did, did, did and did!
S: Oh, all right.
C: Spoken like a gentleman, sir. Now, are you going to give me a fish license?
S: I promise you that there is no such thing: you don't need one.
C: In that case, give me a bee license.
S: A license for your pet bee?
C: Yes.
S: Called Erik? Erik the Bee?
C: No.
S: No?
C: No, Erik the Half-Bee. He had an accident.
S: You're off your chump.
C: Look, if you intend by that utilization of an obscure colloquiallism to imply that my sanity is not up to scratch, or indeed to deny the semi-existence of my little chum Erik the Half-Bee, I shall have to ask you to listen to this!
Take it away, Erik the orchestra leader!....... A one... two.... A one.. two.. three..four...

A Change of Mind

A Change of Mind

Dear solitary reader…

I discovered, to my shock and horror, that WordPress templates are not customizable. So… it is with a heavy heart - for I was thrilled to have many new gizmos on my blog – that I’ve scuttled my WordPress project. Alas, I will remain here, on blogger.com to publish continuum of my own, from prattling, to ranting.