A Lannister Always (verb)s His (noun)s

Winter is coming to my office... well, really it's already here. Three of us fell victim to the siren song of Game of Thrones when it began airing on HBO. One more joined our clan out of a desire to understand what the hell the three of us were talking about all the time.
Now, the three have undertaken the task of making our way through all the novels as our patience will not allow waiting for the series to complete production and air in the spring. We want winter to come. We welcome it and all the tales it brings.
We also make ridiculous in-jokes (see title), geek out about casting rumours (I'm starting to chant a list of actors I want in the series each night the way Arya chants her list of those she wishes to die), and drool over Game of Thrones foodies offering delicious recipes inspired by the books.

And we feel Peter Dinklage not only deserves the Emmy nomination he received, he deserves to win.

Also, the books series is as enrapturing as the show. I cannot remember the last time I plowed through a 1000+ page novel in three days.
Can you?

Pin Me!

A couple weeks ago I got sucked into a new online world.
No, not Google+ (still working out how worthwhile it will be vs. how worthwhile it could be).
Pinterest.
Explaining Pinterest to the uninitiaed is rather difficult. You can't really explore it until you join, and once you join you can't really understand it until you explore. A lot. It's a very experiential site -- the more you dive into it, the more you become one with it. It may sound very zen, and a tad creepy, but I have never found a 'fluff' (or as professionals call them 'social networking') site that makes wasting hours of time on it feel so useful. There's not much in the way of creating connections beyond a very surface level. There's no witty banter about life, politics, the weather, or CARMAGEDDON! There's no constant stream of outside links to click, videos to watch, or Farm games to play. It is, simply, a giant bulletin board of awesome/inspiring/pretty things. The users are a collective of people who like to create, express, explore, design, craft, inspire... and gaze at pretty things.

I'm a quote whore, and the number of amazing quotes I have found in exploring Pinterest astound me.
For example, I found this one this morning.



Remind you of anything?
"Sometimes I get nostalgic for the time when this massive universe called The Internet did not exist, nor was it so easy to create a stream of words, thoughts and ideas and then delete them in a flash.
Sometimes I want a physical record of my creations, not just a glorified collection of electric pulses and digital code translated to 'my work.'"

That, in a pin, is why I love Pinterest.

I'm Baaaaa-aaaack

Trying this new concept of typing an entry in Blogger's post field, as opposed to whipping something up in Word or Google Docs, because, well, neither of those have been inspiring to me as of late.

What has been inspiring is writing.

No, not this. This action of pressing keys with my fingers and having electric signals travel through the keyboard to the PC hard drive to this site and onto the screen -- this is not inspiring as of late. It's annoying. It's a blank canvas with the ability to erase whatever is composed too easily. It allows me to be fickle, to procrastinate, to delete thoughts before they truly form.

Which is why what I've written lately has been actually written. Physically. By placing a pen or pencil to a sheet of paper in a book and watching as my own hand creates words as they flow from my mind, directing myself in a physical action to create something that cannot be so easily destroyed as type on a screen.
I'm not about to get all high-horse and say that the physical act of writing is better than typing on a computer (or a typewriter if you're lucky enough to own such a device). Technology has afforded us a grand new method of creating and spreading ideas (and far be it for me to get snobby about writing). Still, sometimes I get nostalgic for the time when this massive universe called The Internet did not exist, nor was it so easy to create a stream of words, thoughts and ideas and then delete them in a flash.

Sometimes I want a physical record of my creations, not just a glorified collection of electric pulses and digital code translated to 'my work.'

Still, I feel the pull to write more and the readiness of this method, along with the ease of sharing, calls on me to return to the technological front...
Doesn't mean I won't occasionally run back to the physical creation.