It’s a beautiful spring day here  in Boulder, Colo. today.

The birds are chirping.

The sun is shining.

And I’m stuck inside a classroom writing this damn paper.

Conclusion #1: Procrastination is the devil.

Conclusion #2: The weatherman who said it was going to rain today was wrong. And that makes him a jerk.

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Names I will not name my children*

Sure, it’s a free country, but I think that some lines should be drawn when it comes to bestowing a moniker on a tiny little human that he/she will have to live with for the rest of his/her life.

For example:

No Name may be better than some names. Photo from Flickr photographer, NatalieMaynor.

Brutus: Et tu? Too Shakespearean; also implies impending doom.

Astrid: The woman rode “astrid” a donkey. You don’t name your kid that.

Anything that is or sounds like it could be a candy bar.

Shithead: Sounds pretty until you write it out.

Anything that is or sounds like it could be an insect.

Uranus: Sure it’s a planet, and if you pronounce it one way, it has an attractive ring to it. If you don’t, then your kid is bound to be an ass … or at least called one.

Ultimately, I have no beef with people with any of these names. How could I? It’s their parents who should be reprimanded and whipped with a wet noodle.

*This is all, of course, assuming I do give birth someday; definitely not a certainty since I’m not married and I’m way too selfish with my personal time.

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Aspiring writers: here’s help

A writer at SEED magazine once said:  “Nearly everyone reads. Soon, nearly everyone will publish.”

Flickr photo from soartsyithurts.

Of course the reference is made in regards to blogging, the open forum capabilities of anyone with a computer and an Internet connection.

Still, not everyone can get something published … you know, like in a magazine.

Since that’s something I’m aspiring to do–and perhaps something you, dear reader, are as well–I thought I’d share this link to a collection of tips for writing the query letter.

Check out this article by Robbi Hess: How your query letter can land you the assignment.

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Autofill usernames: A mystery

It’s that time of the semester.

Which means that every spare minute, second, etc. counts–each is a chance to sneak in just a tiny bit of productivity.

(So what am I doing now, you ask. This is my gift to you: a chance to take a quick break, and hopefully, crack a smile.)

So that leads me to wonder what is more efficient: letting the computer mysteriously remember and then insert my username into the necessary box  OR just typing my username in myself.

See, letting the name autofill usually means I have to hit the little drop-down box and click on my moniker; it’s helpful, but it necessitates an extra step where my hand goes to the mouse pad and away from the keyboard.

If you simply type in the username yourself–something we all do frequently enough that the series of letter/number insertions is likely an expedited process–then your hands stay on the keyboard, allowing you to easily hit enter after you’ve finished.

I’m starting to think that this frequently used, supposedly time-saving strategy is a crock. Are we all being duped?

And anyways … how the heck to all of these computers know my name?

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Merging work and life

Lately my life has been a realm of juxtaposition.

I recently finished writing an article detailing the many modern amenities available to those staying at Palmer Station on Antarctica, a contradiction to the picture your mind may paint of penguins and polar ice caps.

I’m currently writing a 20-page paper about the less-obvious differences between breast and ovarian cancers, attempting to discern why the former is so much more “popular,” when studied from a marketing standpoint.

This trend is apparently continuing into my personal life as I munch on the crackers I bought from Whole Foods in between bites of a Taco Bell burrito.

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Rabbit revenge in New Zealand

The Easter Bunny has stopped visiting New Zealand.

And for good reason.

Each Easter for the past 20 years, farmers in the Alexandra area have participated in the Great Easter Bunny Hunt.

This year, the hunters blasted away roughly 23,000 furry little critters, retribution, they feel, for the varmints’ nibbling habbits.

Seems a little extreme to me …

Take part in a HuffPost Green poll if you want to share your disgust or your approval.

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