electricland

You'll probably recognize the tune. Feel free to make up additional verses.

CHORUS:
Bye bye, links
Bye bye, hypertext
Hello, loneliness
I think I'm gonna cry

I'm through with linking, cross-refs as well
I'm through with coding HTML
And here's the reason that I'm so free:
My boss says that's how it has to be.

REPEAT CHORUS

Current Mood: whimsical

The team I copy-edited for like a mad thing before Christmas (remember the italics? yeah, those people) gave me a hyacinth in gratitude. It bloomed over the weekend and smells WONDERFUL. Cheers me up like anything.

...I need some kind of botanical icon, obviously.

Current Mood: appreciated

Spent most of the day being scribe while a reviewer went through the
epilepsy site. Not especially taxing for me -- in fact I've been sitting
at her spare computer going through a month's worth of tables of contents
while she occasionally says "Are you sure about this?" So that's going
well. I did a word count and it comes to about 150,000 words, did I
mention? That seems like a respectable size.

My aunt reports:

Today for lunch we had crab quiche and salad.

On the weekend, John wired, Jen played hooky, Robin put insulation in the
ceiling, and Dave and Dan put boards under Jen's back room.

Today, "with great skill and agility," Dan, working by himself, put chip
board under Jen's back room. He did it by lying on his back and balancing
the sheets of wood on his feet.

Jen has determined that Stephenson will rent an orbital sander for $85 for
a weekend.

Jen's mattress and accoutrements have arrived.

Cheers all, Helen

Bill and Stuart are working on the third floor.

So, onward.

Current Mood: tired

OK, so my boss is on yet another anti-link rampage.*

The issue is this. Back in the day when they were setting up our site, which is an information site for parents of children with complex medical conditions (epilepsy, diabetes, brain tumours, etc.), someone whom I have not met, but whom I curse on a regular basis, decided that Links Were Bad. The reasoning appears to go something along the lines of "This is a resource centre containing the sum of all human knowledge on this topic, so perfectly designed and written and intuitive that people will always be able to find what they need right off.** If we put in links to related pages in the same resource centre so that people can click them when they want more information, that will just be confusing."

Obviously this reasoning is WRONG WRONG WRONG AND INSANE, but for some reason he's not willing to take my word for it.

So, smart and knowledgeable friends, please help me! I need evidence that links=good, and not just in my personal opinion but in the opinion of right-thinking usability advocates everywhere. I have a few places to start, but if anyone has a favourite essay on the topic that they can suggest, that would be awesome.

*This is a strong word, and possibly unjustified, as he is open to discussion on the matter, or says he is.
**It will surprise none of you to learn that this is not precisely the case.

Edited to add a clarification: I'm talking about INTERNAL links within the same website: "For more information about X, please see this page in this section." He doesn't like external links either, but I'm picking my battles.

Went by the house this morning to check out my window-seat-to-be. Assured
my dad I do want it that high and that wide. Dan and Dave complained that
it was too hot, and they were right, it was about 30°C -- not sure
what the deal is with the thermostat, but hopefully my uncle has the
manual. The parrot in this icon would be very happy.

I have my last set of script reviews for epilepsy! And the reviewer is
happy! Now I just have to incorporate all the changes. Piece of cake. This
is my favourite thing about editing -- when you get a chance to Make It
Better and actually succeed, it's a good feeling.

That is all, carry on.

For girls, it's like the Pastel Fairy came and puked all over the page. For boys, it's a little different.

Thank you, Toys R Us, for adding that extra frisson of horror to my afternoon.

Current Mood: appalled

[From a chapter on corpus callosotomy in my big fat textbook o' epilepsy, a.k.a. The Treatment of Epilepsy: Principles and Practice, 3rd ed, pp. 1178-1179]

A disturbing complication known as alien hand syndrome has been reported. In this syndrome, poor cooperation or even antagonistic behavior between the left and right hand is noted. The verbally dominant hemisphere may express displeasure with the actions of the ipsilateral extremities. The phenomenon is usually short lived and is usually seen only in the immediate postoperative period; however, on rare occasions it may persist....

Is your non-dominant hemisphere plotting revolution? And how would you know?

From my aunt, a missive that respects Rule #1 of the house project ("Nobody shall present a piece of bad news unless they also present a piece of good news!"):

Today for lunch we have two quiches--tuna and crab--with salad. Jane and Neil were there.

Mr. Elksnitis came and was complimentary about the plumbing (awright, Dennis! and others) and approved the channel. He wants to have the drywall done on the party wall first, so that he can check it goes up to the roof. After that, no problem.

Dan and David hung the door on Jen's bathroom and either it or the door frame are a little warped. Will be fixed.

John, Jane and Neil spent the afternoon crating pictures for delivery to Newfoundland. (Contribution to the arts.)

The frig was delayed because frig hadn't arrived at warehouse. Robin called on this. Will let us know when available.

The Direct Energy guy turned up and turned on hot water. No problem. He also checked the gas metre. No problem. No charge.

Cheers all, Helen

Actually it may not even be bad news, but I'm scared about that drywall-going-up-to-the-roof comment.

In work news, I'm at that pulling-teeth-and-feeling-incompetent stage of ghostwriting something. I hate this stage. But I also got a whole pile of reviewed things back, so hurray!

In personal news, it's just me and the dog for a couple of days. She's pretty independent (and seems to have excellent bladder control -- I got back after midnight last night and let her out into the garden, only to turn around and see her gazing indignantly at me in "Hey! Why did you put me out here?" fashion), but I'm not going to make it back to the house before choir and am feeling like a Bad Parent in consequence. Oh dear.

My aunt reports:

Today for lunch we, with sister Jane, had cheese fondue and the inevitable ham.

House has mechanical permit--thanks to Andrew O.

Inspector Elksnitis is coming tomorrow to look at the channel. So is Jen's refrigerator.

Direct Energy is coming to start the hot water heater between 3:47 and 7:47.

Today, Dennis shortened the feeds to the sink on the third floor. John worked on the lights and pass-through for Robin. Dan and David worked on door (solid) for Jen's bathroom.

Cheers, all, Helen

3:47? What if it comes at 3:46 and we're not ready for it?

I looked more closely at the stuff we had to submit for the permit and whoa, totally incomprehensible. I don't even understand the column headers. Still, clearly it all worked, so that's good! How does one learn to make duct plans, anyway? Does it come with the HVAC certificate or do you need to have some kind of engineering degree? Craziness.

We had our office party today and I won not only the raffle for the Christmassy crystal bowl (Crystmassy? Christmastle? anyway it's painted with holly and has a red base) filled with hazelnut Lindors (sadly, it's slightly chipped, but the Lindors are the important thing), but also the guess-what's-in-the-stocking competition (I got all 11 items right). And then our bosses gave each of us a mug with ground coffee and chocolate wafers so I looked like I'd been looting a village that keeps everything in gift wrap by the time I walked out of there. I invited everyone to swing by the writers' room for chocolate.

And now, having accomplished bugger all else today, I shall depart for the concert.

(Oh, and last night Cranky and Jen and I saw Pride & Prejudice and I am in such a tiny minority in mainly despising it that I almost think I'll have to go see it again to evaluate it on its own merits instead of comparing it to the ideal version inside my head, i.e. the book. They both loved it though.)

Zonisamide is not available in Canada. I've deleted the page.

(However, there are still way too many anti-epileptic drugs, especially ones starting with P and V.)

I am outta here! Way behind, but OTOH as ahead as I can reasonably expect. Happy weekend to all.

There are way too many anti-epileptic drugs. And there are way, WAY too many benzodiazepines. And I wish I wasn't having to rewrite these many, many pages.

Someone has nominated me for the monthly most-frazzled-worker award, so I'm feeling guilty whenever I hit LJ (but rewriting is boooorrring!).

My aunt reports:

Today, Dan, John and I had for lunch left-over lasagne, and garlic bread.

Gill and Stuart are at The House working on the third floor windows.

John did wiring.

Dan worked on the ceiling party-wall channel, which he says should be done soon.

Dave is languishing in his bed of pain.

Cheers all, Helen

So I sent my love to the reciprocating saw.

Jen and Mike and I went over to Granny's apartment on Tuesday to mark the stuff we wanted on the inventory. It's lucky we're a small family -- the balance between "I don't want to be greedy" and "But I really want that!" was hard to maintain as it was. It was tiring (I swear, her one apartment EASILY has enough stuff to fill our going-to-be-three) and sometimes quite emotional and what I really want, of course, is for nothing to ever change and my grandparents to be just where they always were, in their house, with their things, drinking tea (or, depending on the time of day, rum and soda). But that's life for you, innit? Anyway, I bagged the two portraits of my mother.

Current Mood: weird

AAA!

Lotus Notes just randomly crashed on me, causing me to lose a long and detailed email I was working on. Apparently, it doesn't automatically save drafts (another reason to hate it).

Screw it, I'm going to choir. I'll write a shorter version tomorrow. But dammit, it was a timeline! Full of dates! Dates for which I strained my eyes and my brain! Gah. GAH I SAY!

On the other hand, I discovered that MS Project can filter, so that's helpful.

Today for lunch we had hot dogs. I made a much nicer treat for John and me on the train to Montreal. Sorry for the lack of updates, but I've been working/gallivanting at lunches.

Dan has been working on vapour barrier--endlessly--which is coming along. But when I mentioned that he must curse Mr.. Elksnitis, he said that now he's convinced that vapour barrier is a Good Thing.

The plastic plumbing is complete, and does not leak. So--courtesy of Dennis-- is the copper wiring, which also does not leak. The water metre is stationary.

Mr. Elksnitis is expected Tuesday at 11:00.

One duct guy is going to give an estimate. Others will be contacted.

Dave and Dan will buy oak for doorsills.

Stuart has a line on a drywall installer.

Cheers all, talk to you Tuesday, Helen

I'm quite sure she means the copper plumbing. The copper wiring shouldn't leak, Dennis or no Dennis.

I have finally tackled my overflowing voicemail box. I suck. Oh well, done now, and it's not like it would've made a difference.

AAAAAAGH.

I suppose I should have foreseen the 22-page reference list. In (I think) APA style. I haaaaaate APA style. Parentheses and periods and commas and SO MUCH EXTRANEOUS CRAP I CAN'T TAKE IT, GOD! Ahem.

*sob* *whine*

Onward.

1. Thou shalt not randomly capitalize words.
2. Thou shalt not use italics or bolding for emphasis, unless thou canst give thy copy editor a really good reason why.
3. Thou shalt not use clip art. Nay, not even though thy text useth an orchestra metaphor and thy clip art library hath an orchestra image.
4. Thou shalt not pile sub-sub-heading upon sub-heading unto the sixth heading level and beyond.
5. Thou shalt pay close attention to the rules of parallelism and balance.
6. Thou shalt not use the phrase "as well as" as a synonym for "and."
7. Thou shalt use the serial comma.
8. Thou shalt not introduce obscure vocabulary into the text without a proper explanation.
9. Thou shalt pick a font and a colour and stick to it, not because thy copy editor cannot deal easily with this, but because it pisseth her off.

And this shall be the word of the copy editor.

Anyone got any more?

I was getting all close to the end there. 23 pages to go. Then they sent me an updated version of the next chapter I have to edit. Now I have 33 pages to go.

But I see it's full of inappropriate italics and bolding, so I'll be able to have some fun with that.

Sigh. Onward.

A while ago I took Mad Cows and Mother's Milk: The Perils of Poor Risk Communication out of the library. I didn't find it tremendously riveting -- it's mainly case studies of risk communication failures, which is interesting, but after a bit they all started to sound the same. I did appreciate chapter 2, though, "A Diagnostic for Risk Communication Failures". I presented the main points at our last editorial meeting, where they went over well -- especially the diagram of "expert" vs. "public" perception of risk, which lays out very clearly our role as communicators.

Anyway, as a result one of my colleagues just sent me this column on risk communication, which I haven't read all the way through yet, but which has some good snappy stuff in it. For instance:

Again and again, I find that my clients have an unarticulated mental model of the ideal public: uninterested and uninvolved unless told to do something, then blindly obedient. The typical factory management wants its employees to follow the prescribed precautions and pay attention at safety trainings and drills, but not to ask awkward questions about why the flare looked strange yesterday or what’s in the solvent that smells different. It wants its neighbors to be as apathetic as possible about possible plant hazards, but still poised to evacuate or shelter-in-place or do whatever they’re told to do if something bad actually happens. Similarly, the local health department wants everybody to use DEET and get rid of old tires and other potential breeding grounds for mosquitoes — all without getting unduly exercised about West Nile Virus and demanding a more active (or less active) spraying program. And the Department of Homeland Security wants Americans to pack their go kits and call an 800 number if they see anything suspicious — but not to criticize the precautions that have and haven’t been taken at airports, stadiums, power plants, and other potential targets.

In other words, risk managers want a public that is simultaneously paying no attention and ready to act. This weird combination of apathy and risk tolerance on the one hand, preparedness and obedience to precautions on the other, simply can’t be achieved.

(In short, this is mainly a bookmark for me, but some of you may enjoy it as well.)

So I have a desk next to a window. This is nice -- when my blinds are open I can see City Hall and the ~~Skydome~~ Rogers Centre and the bank towers and suchlike. I also have a bookcase which I have colonized with piles of paper. The desk is L-shaped, with the biggest, right-hand portion of the L next to the window and a smaller left-hand portion, with overhead hutch and lamp, against the wall. Picturing that? OK. I also have a fair-sized computer monitor which does not fit under the hutch (and I wouldn't want it to anyway because then I wouldn't be able to use the desk lamp). However, whoever set up the desk originally bolted a keyboard tray immovably to the left-hand part of it. Result: I spent a large portion of my days typing and twisting my upper body 45 degrees to the right to see my monitor, which sat in the corner of the L because there was no other place for it. (In fact, I often turned farther than that because my knees kept banging into the big complicated mechanism that keeps the tray up, so I'd tuck them over on the left -- this also helped ensure that my feet didn't get tangled in the mouse cord.) And whenever I wanted to get up close and personal with some papers on my desk under the light, the keyboard tray was in the way. Not, I think you'll agree, ideal.

Anyway, I finally got around to complaining about this a couple of weeks ago. It's taken a while, but the guy came yesterday to move the keyboard tray. This means that (a) I no longer need to turn myself into a pretzel to work at my computer and (b) I can use the lit-up part of my desk without either leaning way over or banging my knees on the keyboard tray.

Good times. I can feel my back straightening out already.

(Of course, the office door is now DIRECTLY behind me. Hopefully this will not result in galloping paranoia.)

Back at the ~~salt mine~~ copy editing.

Am making a great effort to restrain myself, because if I fix one vocab-heavy passive-voice sentence I'll just want to fix them all, and this is supposed to be a very light copy edit -- commas and spelling only, practically. So I'm just fixing the things that really really hurt me. Teachers are a pretty sophisticated audience, they'll get it. I hope.

And no, randomly switching to bold instead of italic does not make it better.

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electricland

December 2012

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Entries tagged with work

In honour of what I'm doing today, a song

oh, and

House update: Tuesday

needing of the help...

(no subject)

Gender stereotyping lives!

greatest paragraph in a medical reference I've read all year:

Thursday update

Wednesday update

Woohoo!

Disjointed Friday-afternoon thoughts, and house update

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House update: Thursday

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Commandments

Gah.

Risk communication

Ergonomic at last!

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December 2012

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