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Fun with Satisfaction Development, originally uploaded by cee-dub.

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That’s what bloghers are for…, originally uploaded by .Ariel.

This past weekend I headed up to Chicago for Blogher…more to come on that but in the meantime, let this be fully representative of the awesome time us ladies had. We truly made our own party.

   
   
   
   
   
   

   

       

   
            

       
               
       
            

            

               

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Originally posted on aubs.vox.com

I woke up early this morning with lofty aspirations of being productive, getting those things that remain on my "to-do" list finally checked off with a satisfying swoop of my Micron01 Pen. Have you used one of those pens, by the way? They’re an artist’s dream, and coupled with your trusty Moleskine notebook, you feel like an intellectual pontificating the issues of the day instead of a commuter making your shopping list while on public transportation. But I digress. Today, yes, TODAY, I was going to rule the world of productivity.

And then I arrived at work – early, no less – only to be sucked in by the wonderful world of my online identity. My browser, still open from yesterday, displayed my Facebook & Pownce home pages and my Typepad control panel, and my 2nd monitor had open the Pownce AIR app and of course Twitterific. I’d like to say I have ADD as an excuse why I’m so easily distracted, but alas, I think it’s more the overwhelming mediums of communication to which I’m somewhat (read: completely) addicted. Let me elaborate.

I met a boy (guy/man/dude – whatever you want to call a member of the opposite gender around the same age and to whom I was attracted) and in my infinitely inebriated wisdom, I decided he needed to put in a little effort to capture my attention. (I prefer to call this "wooing", an apparently antiquated activity pontificated upon in my still yet-to-be-posted diatribe on being born in the wrong era). As such, I told him only my first name and then suggested he head over to his search engine of choice and query simply "Aubrey". Taking it one step further, I proffered that if he was lazy, he could save two characters and simply search on "Aubs". In fact, do it yourself. See what I’m talking about!? I’m not overly anonymous. Thus, the title of this post.

"Controlling" your online identity has long been regarded as important, especially for job-seekers. However, with the rise of one social networking site after another, I suggest that employers are having to be more lenient in their assessment of candidates, knowing that most of us DO have a MySpace or Facebook site and, while we can control what WE say about ourselves (and how we do it), it’s not always possible to control comments/notes/posts from friends or other randoms on the internet that can often leave us in being seen in a negative light. For me, this is less important; I’ve had a website (no, Ryan, it is NOT a blog!) since 2000 and after 753 posts, not to mention early-adopting the username of "Aubs" or "Aubrey" on just about every Web 2.0 site out there, "Control" to me only references a Janet Jackson album of days past. No, control is not my issue; maintenance, however, is.

I am very conscious of my omnipresence on the Web. Yes, people "know" me (or think they do) from seeing me on Flickr. They’ll say: "You’re Willo’s friend!" or "Isn’t that Ali?" when running into us at a local park or at the Geek equivalent to Sundance, SXSW. (If I had a dollar for every person who I finally "met" there after knowing of them online for years, I could buy an iPhone. Oh right. I already did that. Anyway.) What I find hard, and increasingly harder these days, is maintaining all of my ‘online’ presences while trying to maintain/enjoy/cultivate my offline one. (You know, that little thing called "real life". Geekyfantastics, have ya heard of it?) I’ve maintained AubreySabala.com for seven years now, mainly on Typepad (with a stint on Movable Type with much thanks to the very patient Jon Armstrong for his assistance). But then there’s AubreySays, a site that I never really had any time to devote to, unfortunately, since really, I know some awesome things too, just don’t have the time to update/maintain/search for awesomeness. And then there’s Vox, where I’m actually posting THIS from (they enable cross-posting) in an effort to test out that functionality since it seems to be pretty easy to embed photos and videos and even songs a bit easier than you would on Typepad. (I have long overlooked this offshoot of the brilliant folks at Six Apart, so it’s due time for me to check out. Thus, why today’s productivity is now decreased). Basically, what I need is a macro-level online
"identity manager" (and yes, I’ve seen Jaiku – I need more than that) where I can do everything I want to do online. It’s the interconnectivity that I’m looking for – I want my Pownce to post to my Facebook and my Twitter; my Facebook to import to my blog; my Blog to post songs to Pownce, and I want it in one simple, user-friendly control panel. Basically, I’ve put myself out there. I’m just tired of putting myself OUT THERE in six separate applications that don’t always talk to each other.

Aubs may be everywhere, but being everywhere takes time, time that could be better used being a pseudo-intellectual while BARTing to work. Or – dare I say it? – going "off the grid" and heading out for a weekend with no laptops, no iPhones, just Aubs + Nature = Relaxation. If only my ADD would allow it…

Originally posted on aubs.vox.com

Think back to the days when things were easier – a simpler time devoid of excessive drama and/or responsibility. No, I’m not referring to the days when your grandparents walked TEN MILES in a blizzard to get to work, nor even the era when girls were not just chaste, but accordingly chased, based on that very virtue. This utopia to which I’m referring takes us back not decades, but mere years.

Let me elaborate. The history of global communication is vast; so thorough, in fact, that there are even specific graduate school programs dedicated entirely to the subject. (See: Communication, Culture & Technology, the program that I attended that allowed me to accrue my monthly student loan payments). Historically, people have been initially wary of any new medium of communication, and though the pace of acceptance has exponentially increased, there is always a lag time, an inherent backlash (or at least hesitation) prior to widespread acceptance. The transition from radio to television is a prime example; society not only discounted, if not feared, the “newfangled” mechanism of communication. And then, upon witnessing its utility, they accepted it, and television became the preferred medium. Expand this to include the internet, then blogging, and even today, when instant communication (think Twitter, Pownce, even Lifecasting) makes our minutia a public phenomenon and fosters a society of instant gratification. As it stands, people have become accustomed to the rapidly increasing pace of change and the associated ramifications that this brings to their lifestyle.

Let’s discuss these very ramifications and the serious issues that face society today: namely, why drunk dialing is far superior to drunk texting. To note:

POSIT: Drunk dialing offers less risk of rejection and accountability
Assumptions:
•    Inebriation.
•    [Possible] boredom.
•    [Likely] lusting/horniness/loneliness.
Additional Considerations:
•    Proximity (same town, or transportationally desirable).
•    Probability of culmination of intentions greater than 50%.
•    Possible lack of sufficient nourishment prior to the consumption of alcohol and/or excessive alcohol consumption causing behavior liken to the worst trite media example of a drunk person on a sitcom.
Often, all of the above.

Argument One: When one drunk dials their “intendee” under “normal” criteria of inebriation (when judgment is slightly impaired but memory remains intact), there lies the appropriate response to a no-answer situation. The preferable method, of course, is to hang up prior to leaving a message, proceed directly to the nearest kitchen/diner/donut shop (Do Not Pass Go, Do Not Pass your Ex’s House), consume sleep-inducing food and retire for the evening.
Impact: Very little, save for a killer case of heartburn the next day.
Proper Protocol: Should the topic of the late-night call ever arise, the explanation of “pocket/purse” dialing is sufficient. Since there was no message, there was no record of true intention (minus the embarrassment you can choose to block out).

Argument Two: When one drunk texts, the “no answer” response is inherently removed due to the medium. Whereas drunk dialing offers the potential for the “two-way discourse” (and if not, the excuse for the initiation), texting, by nature, is a response-necessary method of communication. Thus, once initiated, there is no contingency plan in the form of  thinly veiled excuses.
Impact: Substantial. Not only is the “pocket/purse dialing” excuse removed from the equation (when’s the last time YOUR Kate Spade decided to ask the object of your drunken affection if they wanted company at 3am?) but the record remains not only for the other party (who may have received the message upon his/her sober awakening the next morning) but also remains for the sender to heighten the associated mortification many times over. To note – saying that someone “stole your phone” is NOT a laudable explanation. So I’ve heard.
Proper Protocol: Hide in bed all day. All week. Hell, a year or two should mitigate the mortification.

As this example clearly demonstrates, our society has progressed so quickly that it has affected even the most cherished of traditions; namely, the booty call, or at least its delivery. While forward progress is always encouraged, it is highly recommended that scenarios such as these be considered as we become accustomed to – and eventually accepting of – the technological progress that continues to evolve. Because, I for one, hope our children can grow up in a society where notes are still passed in classrooms, rocks are still thrown up at potential suitors’ windows, and – for heaven’s sake – booty calls still incorporate audible slurring. Anything less would be a tragedy to romance itself.

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aubs, originally uploaded by miller_meteor_73.

Ok, fine. You caught me. I was doing a vanity search. (But only because lately there are SOOO many people using “Aubs” as a tag that I’m curious to see my counterparts.)

Most of them don’t lift their leg when they pee, however.

At least, um, I hope not.

I’ve never had a cavity.

Actually, let me clarify. I’ve never had a cavity…until today. And now, I have two. TWO CAVITIES! How have I made it thirty years with a clean record only to mar it as a THIRTY YEAR-OLD?! People get cavities because they eat too much junk food, too much candy, but that’s SO not me…I don’t do candy. French fries, I do. Candy? Not so much. And I brush my teeth! Religiously! WITH A SONICARE!? WTF!?

Sorry for all the caps, here, but I feel like a failure.

That, and I just took my first Valium. You can’t really expect me to go through this without the aid of anxiety-reducing drugs, can you?

My friend Jason Shellen announced yesterday that after four+ years, he’s leaving Google. Jason, besides doing amazing things on Blogger (he worked for Pyra labs when it was acquired in February ’03 by Google), also started Google Reader, my fave web news reader (and hopefully yours, too). My favorite memory of Jason is at the Google Ski Trip when we finally "met" in the elevator (we had known of each other for a while, probably through Sarah Hatter) and I made fun of his shirt. Great way to start a friendship, I know.

In recent weeks, many, MANY of my friends have started bidding adieu to their former employers, leaving the safe, secure daily grind for something new, riskier, and even more exciting! Let this serve as a big (belated!) congrats to: Jordan! Tantek! Marjorie! Helen Jane! And, now, Shellen!

Anyway, he’s taking some much-deserved time off (I’m green with jealousy, despite my 3-week respite) and I can’t wait to see what’s next for him. In the meantime, enjoy his little "infographic" on his time at The Goog. Congrats, Jason!!

OK, so I’ve decided to cut the cleanse to seven days, tomorrow marking the last of this experiment. Why the quick change of heart?

Is it the cravings?
Am I hungry?
Do I feel bad?

No, no, and no.

But, in driving home from work, I hit a guy on a motorcycle as I was pulling into my driveway. Thank God, he’s ok (and so am I; my car wasn’t that lucky) but I have to think that going without food for 144 hours may have had something to do with my lack of concentration. (In actuality, I just had to go into a different lane to make a nearly 90-degree turn since some jackass was 2 feet in my driveway) but still. Not taking any chances.

Seven days is admirable. I’m proud of every one of those seven days. But, after seven days, I think it’s time to return to life as normal…and by normal, I mean "with food".

For those of you who wanted an update, here you go.

The Master Cleanse is going amazingly well. If you can believe it, I have not had ONE BITE OF FOOD in 144 hours. ONE HUNDRED AND FORTY FOUR HOURS! That is six full days, people. I’m like the queen of fasting – who knew! After a few snafus early on (wasn’t quadrupling the maple syrup nor the Cayenne pepper in the recipe as directed – MATH IS HARD!) I got the hang of this "fresh squeezed spicy concoction" and actually enjoy it. To note:

• I’ve been hungry approximately three times, once at the WORST MOVIE EVER (Evan Almighty) when my pal Manlio opened up his bag of Sugar Free Twizzlers.
• I’m having bizarre dreams (which they said in the book might happen) – most of them involve me ‘falling off the no-food wagon’. Last night I ate prosciutto from my friend Louise who was driving a Zamboni. I WISH I could make this stuff up.
• I have an abnormally astute sense of smell as of late. Great American Music Hall smelled like Ant Killer at The Band of Horses show.
• People have very strong feelings on this diet; they either think it’s awesome, my willpower is STEEL, or that I’m a total nutjob. (I’d go with both).

The hardest part about this cleanse is finding things to do with myself when everyone else is out to dinner. Or having a cocktail. Or partying. Lila Belle has been very lucky to have me home a LOT (read: nearly perpetually) and I’ve managed one dinner (at Chevy’s, no less) without even eating one morsel of tortilla. WILL OF STEEL, yo. Basically, I’ve found it easier to avoid that, though, which makes me feel weird and anti-social, neither of my normal traits.

Four more days to go, and I know I can do it.
Would I do it again? Probably. Ask me on Saturday.