becky haycox

Month: June 2011

  • dreaming of paris

    Hi! Checking in, real time, to say hello, and that

    1. Seattle was great, but
    2. I had the worst cold of my life, but
    3. I would do it again just as it was — it was that worth it.

    I am home, wiped totally and completely out, and am letting myself fantasize about a trip to Paris. In this fantasy, I am healthy and own a full wardrobe of neckerchiefs, kicky flats, and whimsical capris. I spin around the city on a little aqua bike with a basket on front, full of flowers. Then I lie on the ground and eat four full-size baguettes with seven kinds of full-fat dairy accoutrements.

    I am hoping that I win a trip to Paris, so that everyone is extraspecially jealous of me. I am kindly supplying the link to the contest (closing shortly) so that you can enter too. But you have to bring me if you win. My four years of high school French doesn’t grow on trees, you know.

    Here’s the link to the trip contest. Wander around Jordan’s fantastic site while you’re at it.

     

  • songs that get me going

    These songs bring me joy. These versions may not be your cup of tea, but try to imagine me, in my car or the shower or in the office, singing them instead. For it is true that I do.

    Tom and Jerry theme song — I didn’t really love the cartoon, but that song! I love how it sweetens up, right at the end. I do sing this, sometimes just la-la-la-ing, sometimes inserting my own special lyrics.

    [direct link]

    I Wanna Pop! I Wanna …. SSSSSSShasta — this commercial worked its way into the fiber of my being, since it was ubiquitous during my teenage days. Yes, I sing this to myself upon occasion. Irresistible!

    [direct link]

    Head, Shoulder, Knees and Toes — This isn’t the most raucous version, but again, imagine me singing it! I never knew this song when I was younger. I ask my sister Annie to sing it when we see each other. She works with infants, so she knows it well and can rock it out.

    [direct link]

  • monkey man

    It’s Father’s Day. My pop’s been gone for almost five years.

    One of my favorite memories is when I was about 7 or 8. Dad and I went to the zoo, and both of us were captivated by the monkey cage.

    One of the monkeys discovered an empty paper soda cup that had been tossed into the cage. He studied it like a professor for a while. Suddenly, he wrapped the cup in his tail and simply freaked out (presumably with joy,) spinning around the cage, hooting, jumping up and down. He loved his cup.

    Dad and I couldn’t stop laughing for days about that monkey.

    Here’s a very nice series of timelapse photos of Stefan Harris painting a picture of his dad.

    [direct link]

  • good morning!

    Let’s have some lovely breakfast, shall we?

    [direct link]

  • good time girl

    That's my mom. I KNOW!

    My mom would have celebrated a significant birthday this year that would not have pleased her. She disliked “old” people and saw nothing in common with herself and anyone over 65, if not 35.

    Happy birthday, silly girl. I love you forever.

  • learning to leave them alone

    Jeanie outside the hollow sequoia log

    I am bad with shy people. Poke, poke, poke! They just need some poking to loosen up, right? Maybe a joke will bring them out of their shell, or a rapid-fire series of questioning and a while lotta eye contact! Hey! I know! Hey.. oh, where you going?

    I don’t know why I do that, because I can be that quiet one. Sometimes I’m so ill at ease out in public that there is no cure at all. You may laugh at that — Miss Improv Yack Yack Social Butterfly is being all wallflower — but it’s true. Sometimes I’m that person hiding behind the plant.

    Can one be an intro/extro vert?

    From the excellent article “Caring for your Introvert“:

    Do you tell this person he is “too serious,” or ask if he is okay? Regard him as aloof, arrogant, rude? Redouble your efforts to draw him out?

    If you answered yes to these questions, chances are that you have an introvert on your hands—and that you aren’t caring for him properly.

    Oops. I have tried to be conscious of this and to be more sensitive to the sensitive. However, I will never be comfortable with people who can’t small talk. Hell, I’m the queen of tiny talk!

  • myPhone: jeers

    Now that we have the positives about the iPhone out of the way, let’s dig in to the features (or lack thereof) that make me want to claw my face off:

    • Stinking, horrible Mail app. How do I hate thee? How about the lack of “Delete All Emails,” for starters?
    • Stinking, horrible Contacts app. How do I hate thee? How about the lack of search window for Contacts while in the app? And what about those stupid miniscule letters in the right column?
    • Cameras, both the native and Hipstamatic interfaces: putting the shutter button on the screen with no tactile clues as to where they are. Good luck, getting a photo in a hurry or a self-portrait. Did they fix this in the 4G?
    • Why can’t I do that pinchy zoomy thing on the windows I need to see bigger (like CONTACTS?)
    • I have yet to figure out a one-button solution to shut the phone up — so that it is completely silent but does not get turned off. Instead, there seems to be a myriad of volume/vibrate settings that one must futz with.
    • And the bigger picture. I use the iPhone, an iPod Touch, and three different computers. There is no way to sync all of them. Because, you know, that would be crazy — nobody uses more than one device! Why can’t I sync all my computers??? Why can’t I transfer my music, merge my apps and info and settings? (Ed. Note: I wrote this before Apple announced iCloud. That had better work, buddy boys.)
    • Why do I need it so much?

  • myPhone: cheers

    So here I am with an iPhone, after my Blackberry died. I mentioned in that post that there are a couple things I love about the iPhone. I’m trying to dig past my annoyances and find the positives:

    • I like not getting lost. I do not get lost as much thanks to the iPhone.
    • The camera is not bad, in a pinch.
    • The Nike+ Running app is great. Not only can I accurately track my routes and my runs, but if you see on Facebook that I’m on a run and like or comment on that post, I hear a cheering sound, real-time, while I’m running. Downsides: the Nike website interface is limited, and OH YEAH I STILL CAN’T RUN. Stupid hip!
    • I have an app with which I can easily track my menstrual cycle. If you’re a lady, you’ll know the many (awesome) reasons for why this is important.
    • Free data usage when one is in a wi-fi zone. Yeah.
    • I like the “Bell Tower” ring tone for my alarm clock. I feel like I’m waking up in a Blade Runner-style future Vienna or something.
    • Apps that make my life more paperless make my life nicer. Groupon, Google Maps, and various airline apps (that do away with boarding passes) spring to mind.
    • Shazam is amazing, although I don’t use it. I just love the fact that I have access to a little robot that can tell me what a song is if I hear it or sing it. C’mon, that is futuristic shit!

     

  • gooble

    such a hardworking gal

    I got Google Voice for my phone. I activated the feature that transcribes my voicemails, often to hilarious effect. I imagine an overworked, 50s-style secretary, cartoon sweat droplets shooting from her head as she struggles to type the messages. Oh, and English is not her first language.

    Here’s the actual message that was left, transcribed by me:

    Hi Becky, it’s Daniel. I’m wondering if you’re going to be at My Florist tonight. Please give me a call.

    And here it is, Googlefied!

    The kids to does work for you and get the michael, mcNett or is it cos it’s true park please.

  • rear window

    This is one of the scenarios I intended to draw when I attempted to create a drawing every month. Oh well!

    I work on the second floor of an old building on a quiet street off the small historic/quaint/kitschy/touristy downtown section of my town. The acoustics are such that I can hear spoken conversations carried on the street very well.

    Recently I got caught up in an impassioned, one-sided exchange. I stole a peek out the window and saw a skinny, intense, age 60-ish lady, sitting knock-kneed on the curb across the street, on her cell phone. She wore aviator shades and a white baseball cap, with the prerequisite straggly pony tail pulled through the back. An elderly Dachshund waited patiently on the end of its leash, sniffing slightly and staring hard into the middle distance.

    Back at my desk, I kept being distracted by the drama below. I finally started transcribing snippets of her end of the conversation.

    • No, it’s terrible.
    • You only put yourself first, Joe.
    • Yeah yeah yeah yeah. Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah YEAH!
    • I’m anxious.
    • I’m upset.
    • I’m angry.
    • Yeah yeah yeah yeah.
    • I. Want. You. Out.
    • It’s always about you, Joe.
    • Don’t call me again.