You may have noticed the little button at the top of my sidebar, which says “2010 CWA NOMINEE”. It seems that a kind reader (or a couple of readers) has nominated me for the Canadian Weblog Awards in the categories of “Art & Photography” (for Photolicious) andthe sweeping-but-naturally-associated “Religion, Spirituality and Philosophy” (for this blog).
What can I say at a time like this? I really don’t know…
But seriously, the odds of me winning anything are slim. Let’s have a look at the criteria by which the judges will be evaluating nominees.
The evaluation is divided into two categories: design and content. This blog is a slightly altered version of somebody else’s template–a template which, I add, is used by many WordPress users. So no go on the design element.
I think I do a little better on the content: I’m usually intelligible, clear, transparent and authentic; I generally pay attention to spelling and grammar, although perhaps not as much as I used to. BUT: Am I engaging? I don’t know. Am I original? No. Am I current? Absolutely not. It’s funny (funny unexpected, not funny haha) that I’m nominated in a year in which I have blogged less than ever (other than when I was not blogging).
But it’s nice that I’ve been nominated. Perhaps someone will click on the link on the nomination page and like what they read here. Perhaps it will motivate me to blog more and with more care.
It’s a decision by jury and more nominations will roll in as the year goes by. Awards will be…awarded in January 2011.
The Twouble with Twitter (via):
Lately I’ve been thinking more about all the social networking apps available out there. I’ve resisted getting into many of them. Twitter and Facebook alone occupy enough time. I’ve considered taking a break or quitting both apps completely. I like some of the connections (re)made through Facebook, but I don’t use it for much other than playing Scrabble. And yet I feel compelled to return again and again to see what’s new on Facebook or who Twittered. It’s becoming a habit. A bad one. Some nights if no one tweets for a couple of hours it’s like there is nothing going on in the whole world, which is, of course, absolutely false.
Sometimes it feels like it’s rotting my brain. At other times it’s really quite fun.
But, yeah, Twitter feels, for the most part, like a waste. I try to use it mostly for thoughts and clever things which come to mind with are not lengthy enough to blog. But more often than not I end up posting what I’m doing, which is perhaps interesting for travel, but otherwise? I don’t know.
And the constant checking…
And yet I carry on.
We had some friends over tonight, so I stopped in the liquor store across the street from the office to pick up some wine. I was handling a dusty, $25 bottle of wine* when I someone tapped my shoulder. I turned around and saw a familiar face: someone I know locally, mostly by association. In fact, I didn’t think we knew each other well enough for her to go out of her way to say “Hello”, so I was surprised that it was her.
She offered me her hand in greeting, and said simply, “I’m Critic.”
I paused for a moment, then I arched my body backwards, clapped, and said, in my high-pitched voice of disbelief, “WHAT?”
Some of you may recall Critic as a frequent commenter on this blog until a year or so ago. Critic was a regular, vocal participant in the discussion here: sometimes her comments were helpful, sometimes they were uncalled for, but she was a presence here. Dixie also had a similar commenter on her blog, writing under the alias “Raven”. We deduced that Critic and Raven were the same person (confirmed by Critic today). We spent quite a bit of time trying to figure out who this person was, based on what she had said and revealed of herself. Critic had always refused to identify herself, even by email. Without reason, I had assumed that it was someone from my pre-Prince Albert past—a school mate or something—someone that I knew and who Dixie had at least met. Never once did I think it was a recent local acquaintance. She was right: I would never have guessed in a million years.
“Well, now I’m trying to think of what I’ve said to you—if there were any jerk-ish things.” Of course it’s easy to debate and confront people online. Face to face the thought of such things happening even in the past is embarrassing.
“Nah. If you did, I probably said something jerk-ish back and then we’d figure we were OK.”
I didn’t think to ask her how she found my blog in the first place, given that we walk in different circles and apparently have widely divergent worldviews.
“Where have you been?” I asked, “I was wondering about you a couple of weeks ago.” I had told Dixie that I guessed we’d never find out who she was.
Indeed it did. Indeed it did.
So: a toast to mysteries solved. Thanks, Critic, for tapping me on the shoulder and introducing yourself. It blew my mind and made my day.
*I wasn’t thinking about buying the wine. I was just wondering if I could tell an expensive (for my pocket book) wine and a cheap wine apart.