LiveJournal 1907

"Guys." Out of the blue. "Seriously. Who's protecting the internet for future generations?"

I will say this, sometimes, and I'm usually not talking about the internet itself, but all the piles of information that we reveal on it—information that any historian would kill to have in the future. Or, let's put it this way. If I could browse through the Facebook profiles and sappy LiveJournals of teenagers during, say, 1907, I would probably die of happiness. Historians 100 years from now? They should have that opportunity. But even though all this information is available right now, I have a feeling that people generally don't frantically download the Facebook profiles of everyone they know to their hard drives, back up those hard drives incessantly, and plan to give them to their grandchildren someday. Digital information is awesome, and fast, and doesn't take up much physical space. But in a way, that makes it so much more fragile. And also, password protected.
So actually, I don't have a solution to this problem, and you can probably sense the history nerd in me getting unnecessarily nervous at this impasse. But! Guess what I found on LifeHacker? A collection of web archives to distract me from my worries! Featured here are classics like the Internet Archive and its Moving Picture Department. ("What to Do in a Zombie Attack" comes highly recommended.) And then there are some surprises, like the Archive of Folk Culture and a list of online newspaper archives.

Thank you, internet.

GTD remixed!

Last summer, I read Getting Things Done by David Allen. You could say that it's a popular book on productivity. Or, you could say that it's a religion. Either way.

Guru / Prophet

You could also say that I was converted. Mind you, this was before I even knew about the Cult of David—a cult which, coincidentally, gets some pretty heavy exposure on LifeHacker and 43 Folders, where his method is referred to simply as "GTD."

So I tried his strategies, and you know what? They worked great. During the summer, at least, when I was juggling a couple of research assistant jobs and had a lot of time for organization. But when I got to school, things started to fall apart. My context-based Next Action lists suddenly weren't doing it for me anymore; or rather, I wasn't doing them.

But it's summer again, and nearly time for school, and I'm ready to hop on the bandwagon again. Except this time, the bandwagon's going to need a little modding. So today, I was elated to stumble upon this little gem of heresy, Antony Johnston's article on Getting Things Written, via 43 Folders. Johnston has some pretty radical ideas on how to modify GTD for the freelance writer, but as far as I'm concerned, they apply equally well to students. I mean, raise your hand if this bit could apply to you:

"Writers have a small number of large tasks that require many hours of work, often over multiple separate days, and mainly in a single continuous environment (i.e. We spend all day in front of our computers, which also makes the @Computer context somewhat redundant). Our working days aren't primarily interrupt-driven, most of us don't have staff we can delegate to (or receive new tasks from), and frankly we just want to get on with, you know, writing instead of dealing with all this horrible business stuff."

Replace the word "writers" with "students who have multiple 20-page papers to write," and you start to get the picture.

I really recommend reading the article, but here are some of the highlights:

• make "ubiquitous capture" the cornerstone of your approach—first priority is making sure no fresh ideas or repetitive worries escape.
• paper, truly, is the most versatile tool; I like to draw my to-do lists with nice markers so that they don't look quite so menacing and bullet-pointy.
• avoid "Evaluation analysis paralysis" at all costs! The whole point point of Getting Things Done is to do them, not to organize them so that you can avoid doing them.

I also like Johnston's idea of "job sheets"—little standardized printouts that describe the typical steps in a creative process, such as writing a comic book or, say, writing a term paper, helping you to see at a glance where you're at and where you're going. However, I think that adapting job sheets to the life of a college student is going to be another mod altogether.

Like a lot of lifehack addicts, I'm hooked on that sense of possibility that comes from envisioning a new system for my life. The exciting thing about Johnston's GTD adaptation? I think it might actually work.

Where the wild things are

Above, glinting like an unkept promise, are the words: "The internet. And sometimes history." The internet, I think we have talked about. But history? It will be—sometimes. The indefinite quality of those words is maddening. I mean, right?

But today, your long wait is over. Sometimes. Is now.

Except also, this will be a little bit about the internet.

Fortunately for you, and extremely fortunately for me, the two have combined forces in the unstoppable venue of the New York Public Library Digital Images Gallery. Google Image Search is great and everything, but I'm pretty sure it has no search parameter for "Can you please make sure that the image results of this search look really appealing and really old?" The NYPL Digital Images Gallery is the answer to that very reasonable plea. And it is fantastic.

Exhibit A: Browsing. Dive into the NYPL Gallery through some guided pathways, like crazy forests of beautiful pictures. But beware: this can be a pretty major timesink. Witness the contents of this collection of cigarette cards. (Cigarette cards were an early form of advertisement.)

For the record, that's The Fox and The Common Seal. Adorable AND historical. I told you; it's an unbeatable combination.

Exhibit B: Search. You ask for monsters, NYPL Digital Images Gallery gives you:

MONSTERS. Or, in this case, an exquisite drawing of "The fish in these parts. A sea monster. The Guine." Perhaps I, the entertained viewer, do not completely understand the provenance of these beautiful pictures. (Although there's plenty of information to be had on that, as well.) But I am intrigued. I want to know more. And most of all, I want The Guine to be my desktop wallpaper. Because honestly, he's kind of adorable too, whatever he is.

So, in short, not only is the NYPL Digital Images Gallery an unbelievable historical resource, it's also a great game. If you are like me, you will play it often.

Questions and answers

Occasionally, Google does strange things. Like suddenly shutting down Google Answers, an "experimental service" that aimed to connect paid Internet researchers with paying, information-seeking customers, in 2006. As far as I can tell, this termination was a surprise to most people, even the researchers themselves. Most of the time, I can accept that Google works in mysterious ways, but sometimes those ways are so mysterious that the internet community has to question Google's wisdom. Why, Google? Why?

For every question, there is an answer. And although this one isn't fully formed yet, a new clue materialized on the scene earlier this summer: Google Questions and Answers.

In Russian.


That's Вопросы и Ответы / Voprosi i Otveti. And weird. On many levels.
The comment thread on this post from Google Blogoscoped tackles most of the pressing issues. The first is, why Russia? Some speculate that Google is using Russia, and its ginormous population, as a kind of top-secret test lab for a possible reincarnation of such a service in the U.S. This would make sense; Google Answers, and its predecessor, Google Questions and Answers, were both kind of high-profile flops, and Google probably can't risk another embarrassment. Others question the whole idea of sniffing out scandal; why shouldn't the Google Russia team be able to develop its own products, especially when Google so desperately needs to compete with homegrown search engine alternatives like Yandex and Rambler.ru?

However, the most interesting question might not be why, but how. Voprosi i Otveti seems to be experimenting with a point system, similar to the one used by Yahoo Answers in the U.S. One catch: you can gain points not just by answering other people's questions satisfactorily, but simply by visiting the site.

Could Questions and Answers be making a comeback stateside anytime soon? Hard to say. Google works in mysterious ways.

In the meantime, you should really learn Russian so that you can find out the answer to another question that, frankly, haunts me daily: how can I tell my left foot from my right?

College > high school, or, 6 ways to get there

So I was reading LifeHacker. Like I do...um...every day. But anyway! Today, LifeHacker opened a post up for comments on how to survive your freshman year of college. Aha, I thought. How to survive college. Finally, something I know something about! I was all set to write my very first comment on that site. And then. I drew a blank. Yes, be sociable; yes, meet professors; yes, etc. The thing is, I don't spent much time thinking about how to survive college anymore. I'll be a junior this year; now, it's just my life. It's a beautiful life, but it's not an obstacle course. And frankly, that's a good thing.

BECAUSE. High school? That was an obstacle course. I distinctly remember sitting on the floor in the corner of a large bathroom stall between classes, trying desperately to finish The Great Gatsby, so that no one would see I hadn't finished it yet. And the anxiety! Good grief. What with the nearly-2,000 other students at my school, this weird cultural obsession with extracurriculars, and like 7 hours of class a day? Seriously.

I only ever wrote two articles for my high school newspaper, and they were both advice pieces. You know, because I was such a guru at 17. But I'm thinking it may be time to dust them off, because really, it's not the college students I'm worried for; it's the high school students. And now, with some distance, I can truly believe what I think I always knew:

Being interesting will always take you further than being perfect.

This applies especially to the college admissions process. I did everything I could to get into a good college, but I don't think I would have survived to experience college at all if I hadn't started letting myself have a little fun. I sent anonymous antique postcards to the University of Chicago admissions office, in yellow envelopes, addressed upside down. And it was like a joke, or a game, or a treasure hunt—and really? That's what all this is, anyway.

So in the spirit of new beginnings, and, of course, survival, here is a slightly modified version of my 2005 article on...

How to Survive the College Admissions Process

1. Do your research.
Just because you've never heard of the college doesn't mean it's not for you. When you start getting piles and piles of college brochures in the mail, look the colleges up online and spend a few minutes poking around. You might be surprised.

2. Stay ahead of the game.
Once you've made a list of everywhere you'd like to apply, go online and find out what the application process requires. Recommendations? Essays? Early deadlines? Make a list and tape it somewhere where you'll see it. Ask teachers (nicely) for recommendations as early as possible. If you start early, you won't panic later.

3. Don't be limited by essay questions.
The ultimate purpose of a college essay is for the college to get to know you as a person, beyond what the simple statistics can tell them. Write a variety of essays about topics you care about, and then just adjust them to the different essay questions. Don't freak out about identifying "role models" or "pivotal experiences." Your crazy life is more than enough to fill 500 words.

4. Stay organized—
Even if that just means having a special drawer where you dump all your college stuff. As long as you can find it, you're fine. Also, make a folder on your computer right away for college essays and passwords for online applications. (Trust me. Keep a list of your passwords.)

5. Don't be afraid to be weird.
Remember, most colleges read thousands of applications. Think of your admissions officer, and then think about how to make that person laugh. And maybe think you're great.

6. And...
Visit colleges! Best excuse for a vacation ever! As a side benefit, it's also the only way to know where you really want to go, beyond the tasteful lies of those tricky brochures.

Almost 3 years later, I still can't tell you how many times I've been hoodwinked by brochures, so—beware. Advertising is a science. Also, I am gullible.

To sum up: college > high school. You're almost there.

That enchanted bookmobile, or, 826 Boston

Two summers ago, I walked into the then-neon basement caverns of 826michigan. Erik handed me scissors and a pile of old sewing pattern packets, and said: "We're cutting them out," pointing to the stylishly old-fashioned figures on the fronts, "like paper dolls. We're giving them names. And occupations."


I've told this story a thousand times, but only because I still can't believe it really happened. That summer, before college started, I became the first intern at the brand-new Ann Arbor writing center, 826michigan, and I'd been waiting for it all my life.

That's only barely an exaggeration. Since 15, I'd regularly considered running away from home to intern at 826 Valencia, the pirate supply store / mysterious writing center for the 6-18 set, founded by Dave Eggers of McSweeney's-and-A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius fame. Alas, 826 Valencia was in California and I was in Ann Arbor. And, I was still in high school, where prolonged and passionate leaves of absence are not encouraged.

So imagine what happened inside my head, the kinds of cartwheels and happiness explosions, when I stumbled upon the 826michigan booth at the Ann Arbor Book Festival. It was like 826 had found me, like some enchanted bookmobile. So I signed up and I spent my summer days there, and I was heartbroken when I had to leave for college. My friends there—my very dearest friends—gave me all their favorite books as a going-away present. As I packed for college, I put all those books in a white cardboard box, drew an octopus on top in purple marker, and stowed it in the trunk of our rental van. No matter what, I knew, it would get to Boston safely.

That enchanted bookmobile didn't stop there; when I arrived at school, I found out that Boston might get to be the next 826 location. I held my breath; I made phone calls. And then, school caught up with me, and I lost track of where the plans were. Months later, it came true: 826 Boston was coming.

And now—this is magical—it's here. When the nice reporter from the Boston Phoenix called me for her article (826 Boston in the Boston Phoenix), I knew that joy was imminent.



Going to Boston this time, I have a feeling that my heart's not going to break. In fact, it might even whisper a silent hurrah.

(Beautiful new article about 826michigan in the Toledo Blade here.)

The Google-Me Generation

Having just gone through the heart attack of buying my very own domain name (not hard, just scary—what if it had been taken?! THEN THE WORLD WOULD HAVE ENDED), I got a kick out of reading this article about tots getting internet identities at birth. Apparently, parents are now snapping up domain names and gmail addresses for their unborn children. Weird, but who can blame them?

In the vein of babies, names, and baby names, there's also a recent op-ed from David Brooks (trapped behind pay-per-view on NYTimes, but still available at the OC Register), about the growing trend of "interesting" baby names, possibly incited by...you guessed it! Desire for internet recognizability.

Leave it to the Me Generation...

Notely, and the lure of a one-stop-shop

This is a story about Notely, a site that tries a little bit too hard.

In theory, a one-stop-shop for student organization is a great idea. Notely offers a calendar, to-do lists, a way to organize notes from classes, a "notebook" feature much like Google Notebook, and, perhaps most interestingly, Facebook integration. How exactly it is integrated with Facebook, I have no idea, because the mini-Facebook application seems to be broken right now, and I couldn't take a peek. However, since Facebook largely serves college and high school students, I imagine that there's some sort of feature by which students can compare classes and share notes from those classes. Or something like that.

You may sense a "but" coming, and sure enough, it is. Notely is a great idea, fairly well executed, but I just don't have faith in it. And here's why. Any sort of one-stop-shop web service requires a lot of commitment. To get the most out of Notely, I would really have to dedicate myself to using it for every aspect of my academic life, to gain maximum integration and benefits from the reams of information I'd be feeding into it. The problem is, Notely aspires to not only organize your life, but, I'm guessing, "connect you with others" as well, via Facebook.

Okay, nice marketing maneuver, and maybe even useful. But Notely simply isn't powerful enough to become prevalent; it requires piggybacking on other services, like Facebook, in order to reach its potential. The point is, it's great to have all those services lined up at Notely like that, but I'm already committed to more powerful versions elsewhere--that, coincidentally, all seem to integrate with each other pretty well, too. Maybe this is because I threw my hat in with Google services—gcal, gnotebooks, blogger, etc., but I trust that these services are going to be around for a long time, are going to keep improving, and are going to give me powerful tools without asking me to sign my life away. I respect the goals of Notely, but with only 166 Facebook users so far, I have a feeling that it's going to miss the boat on a viral surge that could make its format more useful.

It's really interesting to see how young developers are playing with the platform of Facebook to give them a leg up on the Internet establishment, and I think they're getting a lot of things right. Unfortunately, "interesting" doesn't always translate into "useful," and I have to say, I've got an awful lot of beta sign-in names for services I'll never use again.

(Found via Lifehacker.)

So magical right now

Sunday began with a question: what's taking up space on my mac? It was a good question, considering that somehow, in less than two years, I managed to fill a 100 gb hard drive to the max and beyond. I had a feeling that this problem had something to do with music, but, obviously, was unwilling to admit the possibility.

And yet, I was desperate. Desperate enough to type my question into Google, full text, question mark and all, despite the fact that I know search engines do not work that way.

AND YET. The first site I found? Perfect. It was a Digg link to Disk Inventory X, a tiny, free program that can digitally inventory your hard drive and then create a visual representation of what goes where, finally answering the question: why is my startup disk constantly on the brink of disaster? Basically, the chunkier the color block, the more suspiciously large the set of files it represents. But since I recognize this is gibberish, a picture will do:

After mere seconds with Disk Inventory X, I realized that about 20 gb was devoted to nothing more than the raw files for a video project from high school, (which, weirdly, is on IMDB—check it out, I'm almost famous! The Scientific Method.) With my trusty WD Passport External Hard Drive in hand, those puppies were banished off my computer's hard drive in minutes. Well, more like 2 hours, but it was so magical that I didn't even mind.

Finally, enough space on my computer for the new iPhoto! But that story, dear reader, will just have to wait.

Basic principles

In fourth grade, I thought, wouldn't it be a great idea if chat rooms could be private? Like just between two people? And then instant messenger did just that, and I felt like some sort of prophet or cheated inventor. In sixth grade, I started spending upwards of six hours a day playing a game I called "Follow the Links." There, on dial-up internet, I waited for those excruciating pages to load, or came up with website addresses out of thin air and then checked to see if they existed. I made friends, through those tiny typed windows, with teenagers older than me, whose mostly-plain early blogs I read daily (searching through the archives for a secret past.) I think I probably didn't invent following the links; now, I can reconcile myself to the idea that movement from one website to another is one of, you know, the basic principles of the internet.

I really, really love the internet. I love how it makes everything light-speed, organizes a mess of information through math and infinite connectability. I love that's it's a place for innovation waiting to happen. I think this moment of unbounded love for the internet has something to do with the fact that I spent the past nine weeks at Middlebury College in Vermont, speaking and reading and writing only Russian. (well. mostly.) I loved the internet in Russian, too, actually—and there's so much to find, waiting but hidden from view--but I just read so fast in English. (Compared to the messy search for verbs, cognates, conjunctions that I recognized in Russian, of course.)

So I love the internet, and I'm going to talk about it a lot. I just wanted you to be, you know. Forewarned.