i got a piece of junk mail from AOL today.
]AOL goes beyond your average junk mail peddler. a simple piece of printed matter is not enough for this purveyor of bytes. no – they have to send CDs in packages that keep getting bigger.
remember when CDs were first released, and they came in tall cardboard boxes? (ok, maybe you don’t remember, but i do). over time, the manufacturers reduced the size of the packaging to something that fit the bill, as it were – a package the size of a CD.
not so with AOL. they decided that their marketing would be more effective if they increased the size of their packaging over time. the box i got today was a double-wide jewel case with hosting-porn splattered all over the inside.
the waste makes me angry. i know it’s just the tip of the iceberg, that there are bigger fish to fry in the world of waste, but this example just made my blood boil.
dare i say it? [whispered voice – no one is listening – spam would have been better…]
my friend dianna rawleigh passed into memory on May 14, 2004. cancer ended her life decades before it should have ended.
she and i worked side by side for a few years, and i got to know her a little (as well as anyone does at work, i suppose). few people are lucky enough to meet someone like dianna, let alone befriend them. and now i’m left struggling to regain my memories of her, because that’s all i have left.
i suspect dianna would be angry if i wrote something too sentimental, too sad, too anything. i suspect she would want me to do what the irish do at a wake – celebrate life, not mourn death. that’s what she was best at – celebrating life.
a few of my perceptions:
- she wore her salt-and-orange dreadlocks like a crown, a rave queen full of strength and charisma and charm and spirit
- she was filled with passions and followed them through (art, dance, activism, design, spirituality)
- she was a funny, vibrant woman who never, ever took herself too seriously, and often helped others to see what a wise thing that is
- she always took the time to step outside of herself and engage with others and their lives and passions
- she was a little shy sometimes, not liking to draw attention to herself, which made her that much more endearing
- she was a wonderful, connected human
was was was.
she is now only memory, and the world will miss her.
"these coasters are defective!!! why did i buy these damn things?"
buyer’s remorse takes many forms, but one that’s common for me is the form-function problem. i buy something that has great form and a supposed function, only to find that function forgot to show up.
or did it?