As you know, because I’ve been referring to this abstract thing for the last two months, I’m working on a podcast. For the last two months I’ve been saying working, but really that just means I was playing computer games like TF2 (which I’m pretty good at).

I suffer from a lack of will power/strong anxiety when it comes to personal/creative projects. However, I changed all of that when I guilted myself into working on it this week via Twitter. Actually that guilt was in conjunction with a much healthier chat with Tip Tap Tip (a podcaster here in Calgary) that showed me the editing ropes. Many thanks to Eric for taking the time to show me how he works.

Once I actually started editing the main interview of the first episode (currently titled “Rhett saves you from Christianity”), I found it was actually a lot of fun and my anxiety disappeared. I’ve learned quite a few things so far and so I thought I’d share.

1. I don’t hate my voice. I thought I might, but I don’t. I’ve heard it enough times on videos that it doesn’t really bother me, but it is a different experience to listen to yourself on video for a minute or two and listen to a 45 minute interview. That being said—and I realized this because of the audio quality of my recorder—my voice is a lot more nasal than I realized.
2. Also, in comparison to the videos I’ve done, it’s been interesting to hear a recording of myself in a very personal and reflective conversation with one of my best friends. And with that, thank God for editing, because I get to edit all the stupid shit I say out or at least most of it. I’m also going to have to work on how many times I say “like” or “kind of thing”. Those are my crutches.
3. I have to be okay with not producing This American Life on my first try. You always have to start with your first version and grow. But it’s also frustrating because I’d like it to be perfect. Unfortunately, mostly due to anxiety, I gave the technical aspects of my interview with Rob almost no thought and therefore the audio quality isn’t as good as it could have been. It’s actually a little shitty, but I laughed my ass off listening to it so hopefully you will at least titter a bit.

Overall, I’m excited for you to hear the podcast. It contains a pretty revealing conversation about both Rob and my experiences with Christianity that I’ve rarely talked about with others and I’m keenly interested to hear your feedback because I think there will likely be a lot of people who have gone through similar experiences with Christianity or you will finally be able to write me off as the heretic that you’re pretty sure I am—which I am.

The main chunk is edited and tonight I’m going to record/edit the intro and conclusion to the piece and then put the final touches on the podcast (like adding some music). Speaking of which, if you have any recommendations for good Creative Commons music I definitely could use a hand with this. I’m hoping that I’ll have something for you to listen to by the beginning of next week and I’m already planning the second episode (which might be HUGE).

Stay tuned.

Other than Leah’s odd post, this is the first time I’ve had a guest post and I’m proud to have my friend (and old boss) Tara Scott writing here today about Facebook. I’ve wrestled with this exact same topic and have come to very similar answers; however, I am a little more curmudgeonly about it—as you might expect. Enjoy!

I have a lot of mixed feelings about Facebook. I know people who have quit and I sometimes think they’ve got the right idea. I don’t like the way Facebook is happy to play fast and loose with my personal information, claiming that everyone wants to be open these days.

So why not just quit? It’s certainly possible, and while it’s a bit complicated to actually permanently delete an account, there’s something clean about that idea. I’d be out of the system, done supporting a huge network that doesn’t care about me, but instead thinks of me as part of an advertising demographic that’s interested in real estate purchases, weight loss supplements and solutions to help make a baby.

But everytime I start to consider quitting, I think about my family. You see, I have my mom, brothers, some of my aunts and many of my cousins on Facebook. If I can’t easily get to a phone but want to get in touch with my mom, it’s the best way to go since she’ll always answer me on Facebook faster than she’ll answer me over email. And because so many people from my extended family are on there and are posting every day, I find myself getting to know all of them better now that I live 3,000 km away than I did when I lived locally.

A perfect example is when my grandmother passed away. I knew right away that things were going downhill because my aunt sent a message to let me know, and she kept me up to date for the next few days until Grandma died. And because I knew, I was able to tell my cousin in Seattle when I saw her online. In the end, even though I couldn’t make it to the funeral, I still felt like I was a part of it because so many people in the family were posting updates and photos. It looked like it was such a beautiful time and I was so proud to be connected to all of those people.

And that’s really what so much our experiences online are about. We want to feel connected to other people, share our ideas and have them heard. Maybe we even want to share our pain, tell someone else what is breaking our hearts and know that there are other people out there feeling exactly the same way. And the amazing thing is when other people do respond, like with the It Gets Better Project. What started with one video reaching out to gay teens to tell them that life gets better after bullying has blown up into thousands of videos with millions of views from people like performers, clergy, nations and even President Obama. It’s been beautiful and breathtaking to see so many people care about a cause and come together, even when most of them have never met in person.

In my own small way, I feel like that’s what Facebook has given me. It’s my connection to people I care about, a window into their daily lives. Sometimes that means hearing about good news like someone getting a new job, or bad news like hearing about Grandma, but I’m grateful for the chance to connect.

(If you have the time, check out this TED Talk from Ze Frank. It’s related and it’s excellent.)

Tara Scott is proof positive that you can get work outside the retail and service industries with two degrees in English literature. Married to a novelist and owner to two ridiculous dogs, she blogs regularly at Versus Boredom.

Part One

When I was 17 I saw the Mona Lisa at the Louvre and that moment changed everything. How many times have I seen the Mona Lisa in popular culture? Thousands of times, at least. I never understood why the Mona Lisa was so important until I saw it. I’m really not sure how to describe it other than to say she is really looking at you. Experiencing the Mona Lisa in person was the first time I began to understand the difference between knowing and understanding.

Part Two

When I was home in Saskatchewan for Christmas, out at the in-law’s farm, one night I went for a walk by myself and I got away from the farm lights and I plunked down in a snow bank and just looked up at the stars. I just sat there in awe. And threw in some fear and trembling, for good measure. I don’t get to see the stars very often. Or at least not like that.

There’s really no clarity like a cold, crisp and clear night sky in Saskatchewan. I don’t want to forget how big the sky is anymore. Literally and metaphorically.

Part Three

A friend of mine spent a month in Europe last year and he told me that while in Italy he ate at one of the—I don’t know the terminology—highest rated restaurants in the world. Like if there was a top 10, then this was number 3 or something. He told me the food was so good that it made him cry.

I don’t know about you, but I want to eat whatever that was. And my life revolves around fighting the temptation to indulge in grease, fat and salt. Mmmm baconator.

Part Four

For years and years I’ve known a great deal about the internet. I’ve always had this blog (in its various incarnations), but I’ve never really tried to make it popular. When RedPoint gave me the opportunity to take on the newly (at that time) launched up! magazine website and I had to take what I knew and put it to the test.

Over the last year and a half, we’ve gone from essentially nothing to just short of 100,000 visitors/month (which is crazy ass growth). It turns out, I’m pretty good at this and without RedPoint giving me the opportunity I don’t know how long it would’ve taken me to figure this out.

The Resolution

I am going to live differently and this means a lot of different things. It means testing and experiencing the things I know and love so that I can understand them. Whether that means travelling or building websites or the food that I eat or whatever. I am done imagining that there are barriers to my ideas and dreams—that the sky is only as big as it seems in the city. My whole life I’ve subverted my own goals, mostly out of fear, but every time that I try to succeed I find that I do or that I learn something invaluable about myself or the world.

I am getting off my chair (or get in it if I’m working at the computer) and produce and be creative. This isn’t just a resolution for 2011, but forever. There is no good reason to be stagnant. Immobility just doesn’t seem like an option anymore. I’m a writer. I’m a creator. I am alive.

Expect to see a lot of different things from me this year.

Upon reflection of the success that I and we had with Movember, I’ve decided that a monthly “theme” is very helpful in the process of trying to blog regularly. This month is a month to look forward and look back. A month of resolutions or, more specifically today, a resolution that didn’t make the cut this year.

Over the last couple of months, I think I’ve come to conclusion—upon much reflection—that I tend to compartmentalize people. You. And though I am aware of this flaw (but is it a flaw?), I’ve decided I’ve got too many other things to focus on in 2011 so it didn’t make my New Year’s resolutions.

Here’s what Wikipedia has to say on the issue:

Compartmentalizing is the act of splitting an idea or concept up into (sometimes more or less arbitrary) parts, and trying to enforce thought processes which are inhibiting attempts to allow these parts to mix together again… Robin Skinner suggests the ‘simplicity…[of] splitting everything into neat compartments of “good” and “bad” does several things for us, all of which make us feel better. First, it helps us feel part of a “good” group – that’s comforting. Second, we can relax our usual standards of correct behaviour for a bit… And third, we can let off steam, that is, get rid of our own “bad” feelings on to the “baddies”‘.

I was unaware that I tend to compartmentalize people (everything) until I heard Marc Maron talking about it on his podcast WTF. This is a similar to when I was unaware that seeing double was weird. Once I heard him say it, it become obvious that I do this.

Let’s just let it all hang out—it’s true that I need to compartmentalize you. But I have a lot of anxiety to deal with and not a lot of that anxiety makes sense. Let me put it this way—the duct tape is working, so why mess with it?

It’s very difficult for me to understand you if I don’t put you in your place. Somewhere neat and tidy and, if you matter to me, I will work hard to figure out where you fit.

So just look at it this way, at least someone is taking the time to get to know the real you—even if just for a few minutes.

Part One

I am always trying to get Leah to smell my stinky armpits, but she always refuses. Yes, this is the selfish woman I am married to. I don’t understand why she doesn’t want to share in the magic smells of my body.

Last week, while I was sick with the worst stomach flu in memory, I was having a shower and trying to wash the sickness away when Leah came into the bathroom to collect my dirty clothes because she was doing a load of laundry. She grabbed up my clothes, but stopped once she got to my hoodie and asked, “Is this clean?”

“Yes, I think so.” I really thought so. She sniffed it and made an awful retching sound.

“I just put it on today, so I didn’t realize it would smell bad.”

“Well, it does. I’m washing it. I think the flu has made you smellier.”

As I finished shampooing my hair it occurred to me that I had just unintentionally tricked Leah into essentially smelling my armpits and I made a vow then—next time it will be intentional.

Part Two

Again last week while sick, I was pouring myself a glass of ginger ale (Canada Dry, to be precise) to hopefully calm the angry stomach gods with this root-beverage sacrifice. It was a newly opened bottle, but another bottle must have broke at the store because there was sticky syrup all over the outside and my fingers got sticky as a result.

While pouring I thought, “This sticky bottle is the worst. I better not spill and make my glass sticky.” At that exact moment, the fizz poured over the lip of my glass and down the sides. I quickly wiped off my glass but the damage was done. It was sticky.

Today is your last chance to support my moustache. I’ll be updating this throughout the day with different stuff to help convince to you donate now!

9:52 AM: Here’s what I look like right now.

Last day of Movember: 9:52 AM

12:11 PM: This is going to be the worst Movember blitz ever, because I am super-tired. Chinooks really mess with my sleep. That being said, you should donate.

6:22 PM: OMG. All I need is another $5 and I’ve reached my $500 goal.

6:51 PM: Thanks to Lee, I’ve reached my goal.