Category Archives: Uncategorized


It’s been a moment since I’ve been here! Hard to believe this original blog is something like 20+ years old and things are very different now than they were 20-something years ago – I’m obviously a different person, shaped by 20+ years of life, and the technology that enables communication over the internet has developed far beyond the imaginations of many, becoming more sinister and dangerous than a lot of us thought it could be. We are at the point where we can no longer agree on a shared reality, where we are living through a pandemic that some of us fervently and violently believe is a hoax.

It’s only been four months, but this has been the longest year, a time of reckoning for centuries of injustice, laid bare by the impact of the pandemic and bubbled up to the surface by record unemployment that ironically freed millions from the shackles of work to finally allow them to voice their rage and frustration at the inequity of our current economic and justice system.

A few recent events from the past few months, in no particular order:

  • John Lewis passed away the other day
  • Naya Rivera drowned in a reservoir in LA
  • Donald Trump gave an interview this morning where he bragged about how he did on a cognitive test and would not agree to accept election results in November
  • His niece, Mary Trump, wrote a damning book analyzing her uncle’s various pathological conditions. Net net, we’re all screwed
  • Mason is able to read some simple books, all on his own. He is a fan of Biscuit.
  • Mason is excited about Animal Crossing: New Horizons
  • My parents sometimes appreciate how lucky they are, sometimes are enraged out how unfair life has been to them
  • My husband and I have managed to hang in there with our respective jobs and homeschooling and family and each other… for now.
  • I’ve given Simon three haircuts. They’re not great, but they’re getting better
  • I now have many pairs of yoga pants
  • Hamilton came out on Disney+ around July 4th (obvs)
  • We have some new management at my company and some is not very good
  • I’m still coming to a reckoning with my own privilege and how much I’m willing to put on the line as an ally
  • oh yeah and did i mention I’m not young anymore? I turned 40 just before the pandemic took hold. I didn’t celebrate since things were so busy. Maybe I’ll get to after this is all over. (If this will ever be over.)

It’s hard to imagine now what life was like before this all happened. My New York and France trips seem like distant memories, but they were only like six months ago. I wonder sometimes if this is basically like AIDS/HIV, where our habits will be forever changed – just as people have generally come to the understanding that it’s not a good idea to have sex without a condom, will all our public interactions in the future be masked? Will our children ever be able to go back to school and have normal social lives?

Anyway, as the title of the post says, “hi.”

5 Unusual Ways to Use Dropbox You Might Not Have Thought Of

I’ve been using Dropbox for a while, but I just discovered the Android functionality this weekend and was blown away. Here’s a few other uses for this nifty app!

Dropbox has just been upgraded to version 1.0, so we thought we’d take a look at some great ways to use it that might not have occurred to you.

A free Dropbox account allows users to store up to 2GB worth of files and access them from any other Linux, Mac or Windows machine running the Dropbox application. Or, those files can be accessed from any browser.

In fact, the new 1.0 version of Dropbox is so tremendously useful, I decided to invest the $9.99 per month to increase its capacity to 50GB. Dropbox can perform some slick tricks. Here are my five favorite examples:

Chat Logs

Many chat programs let you change the location of the chat log. Clients such as Pidgin can be modified to save those chats wherever you’d like, so point to a folder within the Dropbox for complete portability.

Multiple chat client Digsby is especially useful when you save its chat logs in Dropbox, and there was a portable version available until just a few weeks ago.

It’s still possible to make this happen, but it takes a bit of hacking. If you’re so inclined, it might be worth it — it lets you save all your Facebook, AIM and Google Talk chat logs in the same place.

Gaming Saves

Most games let you designate where you’re going to save your progress, so why not put that saved game data in Dropbox? Then, no matter what computer you’re using (as long as you have the game installed there), you can pick up where you left off.

Documents Folder

Have a group of documents you’re always working on and adding to? Place them all in a Dropbox documents folder and you can modify them at home, work, and on the road. This works especially well when you’re writing with a team, allowing you to see when someone else has begun working on a document.


We like to shoot videos, and it often works out where one of us is shooting and another is editing. One of us drops the unedited video clips in a shared Dropbox folder, while the other picks them up and edits them as soon as they’re synced. Then, someone else can share the finished videos on YouTube. This works especially well if you spring for the 50GB upgrade.

Any App With a Watch Folder

Any application that lets you create a watch folder is fertile ground for Dropbox. Here’s an idea: if you’re a Photoshop user, create a watch folder in Dropbox, leave your powerful PC running Photoshop at home. Then, when you drop a photo into that folder when you’re on the road, it’s automatically processed to the dimensions you designate back at the mother ship. You can also use this idea for BitTorrent, dropping torrents into a watch folder and having them download on your home machine while you’re at work.

We’ve grown to adore Dropbox in the past year, and now that it’s reached version 1.0, its subtle improvements make it even more appealing. To see for yourself, download it here, and find out more tips and tricks here.

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19 Things You Didn’t Know About Inception

Inception is one of those rare movies that has gotten rave reviews from nearly everyone who has seen it, critics and the public alike (it’s currently 87% fresh at Rotten Tomatoes). If you haven’t seen it yet, don’t worry – there’s a spoiler warning if you scroll down. Just don’t read past that point if you don’t want to know anything until you see it for yourself!

Fun list of stuff you might not have known about Inception. Did you know that James Franco was initially up for the role that went to Joseph Gordon-Levitt? I’m so JF had “scheduling conflicts”!

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so glad to be back in LA…

a few lessons learned:

– naps and showers are the great reset buttons of life.
– shopping in soho is fantastic. uniqlo is my new favorite store. topshop offers a world of inspiration.
– love your friends. stay at a hotel.
– drinking for several nights in a row on not so much sleep? yea, maybe i’ll pass on that.
– i’m much nerdier than i thought i was…
– i’m much more of a chill-at-home kind of gal than i thought i was…
– i’m so happy to be back in LA!

‘Scott Pilgrim’ Versus The Unfortunate Tendency To Review The Audience

Some movie reviewers are such haters! Linda Holmes does a nice job of calling out the ones who seem to be more interested in talking trash about the target audience than actually talking about the film.

“There’s no reason to be angry at the people you imagine a movie will make happy just because you didn’t like the movie.”

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hackthis: Inception: the question is not whether I treat you rudely… (Arthur/Eames, PG-13)

Ok I don’t normally read fanfic, but holy smokes, this was really good. I included the first section, but you should really clickthrough and read the whole thing.
Inception: the question is not whether I treat you rudely… (Arthur/Eames, PG-13)
There is absolutely nothing that’s impossible with Inception canon, and thusly I get to write stuff like this which makes me laugh like I’m deranged. I do admit some concern that the rate of writing in this fandom is making me feel like a slacker. WTF, people, is there a handbrake on this ride or what?


the question is not whether I treat you rudely, but whether you ever heard me treat anyone else better

“You rang; I came.”

Arthur leans against the door frame of his hotel room at The Wynn and gives his guest a brief once-over. Eames’ expression of delight is hazily familiar. It’s been a while. “I didn’t ring,” Arthur points out.

Eames drops his traveling bag on the garish floral carpeting in the hall and rests his elbow on the wall by Arthur’s head.

They haven’t been this close in quite some time. “Semantics,” Eames says dismissively.

He looks good. He’s put on a few pounds. His hair has grown out a little.

He’s wearing a simple white shirt that hugs his biceps intimately and dark jeans that clearly don’t require that brown leather belt to stay on his hips.

And he’s got stubble.

Arthur’s brain gets stuck on the stubble.

Arthur straightens his perfectly starched collar. “I sent you an email.”

“And here I am.”

“And it had nothing to do with me being in Las Vegas, the Gambling Capital of the World.”

“Las Vegas. Duluth. Athens. In cases such as this a good memory is unpardonable.”

Arthur can feel his mouth twitching. “Are you really quoting Austen?”

Eames leans in. “If it gets me that smile I’d be happy to quote Austen, Shakespeare, Tennyson and my great-grandfather, Tzar Nicholas II. Do you have any requests?”

“Eames, you are not related to Nicholas the Second.”

“I’m not, but I could be; they have yet to account for Anastasia.”

Arthur shakes his head at the door frame. Down the hall a businessman in a drab brown suit is letting a young blond woman in glaring purple spandex into his suite. At three in the afternoon on a Tuesday.

How quintessentially Vegas.

Arthur’s brief glance belies the attention he pays to the mark: Jose Rubio.

“Sorry to see you’re as fit as ever; it makes me feel deprived.” Eames’ mouth is moving glibly, but Arthur can feel the tableau being studied intimately: Rubio, himself. Arthur can feel his clothing being picked apart and his expressions cataloged. “I was sure after that incident at the Waffle House that you’d never speak to me again.”

Arthur gives Eames a sharp look. “You accosted me in the bathroom.”

He’s almost surprised it took Eames this long to address their last meeting.

“I did no such thing,” Eames protests. “You spilled coffee on your shirt; I merely followed you into the loo to make sure the coffee hadn’t done irreparable damage to your lovely skin.” A pause. “And, Arthur, it really is flawless.”

Arthur stands upright. “The military has this policy called Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell.”

Eames frowns. “Yes, the colonies have always been terrifically repressed.”

“You groped me in the Waffle House bathroom.”

“Would you have preferred I do it in front of the squadron? I was attempting some semblance of restraint for your sake –- those mixed messages of yours were frightfully confusing.”

Arthur can feel the tendons tightening in his neck. “And then you got on a plane back to Hereford.”

“I was there when that happened, too -– or did you forget?”

“I did not forget,” Arthur says through clenched teeth. What was he thinking contacting Eames after all this time?

Arthur can feel the vexation etched into his forehead ebb away at the expression on Eames’ face. Eames seems almost distressed, yet his voice is deceptively light when he says, “Then again these things do seem to happen when you work for Her Majesty.”

Arthur looks somewhere over Eames’ left shoulder. He’s fighting a rather exhausting battle at the moment: to punch Eames in the mouth or slam the door in his face. Or something considerably less violent. He hasn’t felt this conflicted in three years.

He rolls back his shoulders and gets himself together. Special forces soldiers do not fall apart when encountering their exes. Especially when they’re not exes. “Williams told me you’d left the service,” Arthur says at last.

“Well, that’s what I told him to tell you –- should you ever bother to ask.”

“You couldn’t just tell me that yourself?”

“I didn’t think you wanted to hear from me.”

“Like that ever stopped you before.”

Arthur feels this overwhelming need to run his fingers through his hair in exasperation. He settles for shifting his weight from one foot to the other. Eames cocks his head to the right. “I have missed Condescending Expression Number Four, I must say.”

Arthur can feel a momentary sense of disorientation in his features. It passes, but not soon enough. “Number Four,” he repeats

“You have a very expressive face.”

“I do not.”

“Of course you don’t to people who haven’t studied you extensively, but you don’t spend a year training with someone in the wilds of North Carolina and not learn at least one or two of their facial expressions.”

Eames’ smile would make a lesser man feel marginally –- exceedingly -– concerned. Arthur rubs his jaw. “So, what are you doing now?”

“Well, I assume you know or I wouldn’t be here. Unless this is, in fact, the long hoped for reunion where you declare your undying affection for me and ask me to live with you in Pemberley. Shall I call you Darcy — or would you prefer Fitzwilliam?”

“You are not worth this aggravation,” Arthur says flatly.

“Of course I am.” Eames picks up his bag. “So are you going to let me in or will we continue with the Spanish Inquisition in the hall? Shall I pull up a chair and torch for you to shine into my eyes?”

“You can’t pull up a flashlight.”

“Still as literal as ever.”

“I didn’t invite you here to be insulted.”

“And still unable to accept a compliment.”

There’s a shared moment of silence. It may be the last one Arthur enjoys for some time.

“”I suppose you can come in,” he says eventually.

“Well, since I did fly five-thousand, two-hundred and thirty-five miles to see you, it seems like the polite thing to do.” Eames’ eyelashes are far too long. Arthur remembers Eames’ eyes being greener when they were outside; under the fluorescent lighting they look more blue. Arthur cannot believe he’s noticing these things. There are least eighteen inches between them. “And you are nothing if not polite, aren’t you?” Eames says.

Arthur rolls his eyes and steps back to let Eames into his suite.

Eames’ hand brushes along Arthur’s exposed forearm as he sweeps by. “I missed you, too.”

** Continued… **


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