nuinca

Diana’s story. Which happens to be far more factual

What’s below is Diana’s version of our meeting story. If you compare this to my version posted on thegingerandthegypsy.com, you’ll find that it is generally more acceptable.
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Jon and I met in a lower level math class, freshman year in college. Yup, the truth is out. I was in that class solely because dad made a quick move for us from Texas to South Carolina and I didn’t take the math placement test… or was it that I took it last minute, unprepared? I just can’t seem to remember… Jon was in there because… well, I’ll let him tell you that version of the story.

To sum it up, class was filled with partyers and students who thought Pi was only a fraternity/sorority symbol. Thank goodness my future partner in crime decided to sit next to me in the back of class. From day one, we became instant friends and survived that math class through note-passing and funny comics Jon drew for me.

Jon asked me to tutor him, which I believe was a plot to get to know me better since he was obviously intrigued by my sharp math skills and overall cuteness. Now that I look back, maybe fewer notes in class would have helped him with that grade… Jon and I were friends for about a year, and right before Christmas we started realizing that our friendship had become something more. The funny part is, I had convinced everyone (except for my parents of course, because they always know when I’m in denial) that I didn’t like this boy named Jon and I even remember commenting that I “pitied” the girl who dated him because he was very forgetful (ahem, my 19th birthday) and self-centered at times.

Well, I quickly realized that I just needed way to much attention (I know nobody reading this is surprised) and everyone to me is considered self-centered unless the attention is solely on me. Jon and I have been together for over 6 and a half years and Jon proposed on Christmas Eve on Bald Rock in South Carolina. It seems that cool things always happen around Christmas for us. Our marriage doesn’t mean the beginning of our lives, because we’ve already made that committment to each other 6 and a half years ago, but what it really signifies is the joining of our families. And if you know us, you know how much family means to us.

Nothing is more important than our family and friends. So we look forward to sharing this moment with you and we give a shout out to Mutlu, our teacher of that unforgettable special-needs math class which brought us together.

Divine inspiration

Something is trying to teach me something.

Not sure what yet, but at just over six months into this year, a number of shitty yet re-affirming things have happened. No need to re-chronicle what, dearest Nuinca.com readers, since you no doubt remember. Diana lost her job today. Yep – just like that.

Looks like she’ll work out this month (all of 8 more days!) and then she’s done. Maybe this is the year of numbers – 7.5% of shit, 401k times 0, 8 more days of therapy and 64 days before our wedding. If things don’t get better before then, August 25th shall still be a most rocking date.

Ready for a drink? Yes, I am!

Obama san

This video makes me so goddamned happy

it’s like Whoa

Today is the big day – bankruptcy or not for the company that owns my newspaper.

Eventually, every newspaper will have a day just like ours today, except today is all ours. What will happen? I really wish I could say. Extending our payment deferments by 14 days instead of the customary 30 seems strange and it’s easy to wonder if two weeks are enough to restructure for the big BK.

If it’s any clue, I was just invited to a company wide think tank meeting in Savannah at the end of this month. Will it be a picking up the pieces conference or a true future planning meeting? At this point, it doesn’t fucking matter.

See you tomorrow morning, TU, we’ll find everything out together.

Controlling the mystery

Despite all of the shitty things I say about newspapers and the industry, I have to admit – people still love having themselves in print. I haven’t convinced myself that it’s a permanence thing, but the effect is undeniable.

Examples? Of course.

Last night, after the taping of Urban Jacksonville Weekly, I had the paper put a big refer to our show, complete with a screen shot, on page A2. I didn’t tell the other UJW guys, because frankly, I didn’t think they would care. At 7:05pm, I received this text from friend and co-host Joey Marchy:

“We’re on A2 of the TU! I grabbed a paper and tweeted that.” And he did.

But hey, don’t worry, I’m not going all traditional MSM on you. I still know that newspapers are dying and that they often deserve that death. What I am saying is this- when appropriate, we need to control the mystery of print. There’s a power there and it can help.

Stop motion wtf

Stop motion from the 1930’s. WTF-tastic

Elitism as a solution?

Here’s a problem I’ve been dealing with more often as of late.

As a news organization we are constantly embracing fancy technologies to tell our stories and keep our business models in the black. If we want to increase circulation, we publish to the Kindle. When breaking news breaks, Twitter, Facebook and iPhone apps wait to instantly inform.

But what about the considerable percentage of people who barely understand computers, don’t want to understand Twitter and can’t afford an iPhone? It’s easy to assume that those people are so old or so poor that it doesn’t matter, but that’s not the case. There is always going to be poor people, and while it’s true that my generation and those below are born with a knowledge of texting abbreviations, that doesn’t always mean they want their news that way.

Mainstream media has always had a problem combating it’s own elitism – so can we really stake our future in developing for faster, flashier and more expensive technologies?

How about some thoughts from my audience.

A man and his monkey

Great drinking buddy and occasional friend, Ching, came up with the idea for a Jacksonville urban-core scavenger hunt a few months ago.

Now, there are lots of details to appreciate and background story to reveal, but as usual, I don’t want to spend the time necessary to tell the tale, so I’m going to skip right to our third clue.

There it is. One six-foot tall work of glorious wheatpaste. This clue is the simplest of the three so far. You find the poster above, take your picture with it, and e-mail it to the monkey. Only those people who e-mail in their pics w/the monkey will receive the third, and final, clue.

Since we’re still technically in the guessing stage for this clue, I can’t reveal much about the process, but I do want to thank one person in particular – Tommy Armageddon. Without him, the third clue wouldn’t be possible. There. There’s another part to the third clue. If you know Armageddon, you know where our wheat paste is.

Now go, children. Find our third clue, e-mail the monkey, and revel in the fourth, and final, clue.

Triumferant return!

Yes yes ya’ll.

Who knew that planning a wedding that’s just three months away would take so much of my free time? I mean, don’t get me wrong – Diana is doing all of the work, but damn, I get tired watching her do all of the work. I’ll have to talk to her about working without making me tired.

Plenty of things I’ve had on my mind to write about, so let’s get started. Most recent first

Excuses, part deux

I’m over working at thegingerandthegypsy.com, a totally bitchin’ wedding site for Diana (the gypsy) and me (the ginger) when I come up with this gem of a tale for our “About Us” page. Ten internets for the first person to tell me the inspiration for the tale. For sooth.
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Gather round, friends, for the story of Jonathan and Diana doth make an inspired tale.

Twas the year of our Lord 1193 (February 2002) in Barnsdale, South Yorkshire (Columbia, SC). Jonathan was but a simple yet strapping yeoman, cheerful and stout (in between majors and afraid of the sun), especially gifted in the art of the cudgel. Diana was a doting maid, daughter of the local Sheriff, known throughout the wood for her kind doings and she truly was fair in face and loin (that’s all true). The two met at a goodly fair (Math 113) organized by the brave Richard the Lionheart (some teaching aide who barely spoke english). True, thou hast never seen such colorful banners and even-handed archery matches as were met that day.

Whilst the fair progressed, under the cool shade of a mighty oaken tree, Jonathan and Diana first met over a cool pint of freshly-tapped ale at The Green Man pub. (they sat across from one another. assigned seats ftw!) For sooth, it was love at first sight. Diana immediately took Jonathan to be the most strapping man in the shire, tall in stature and daring in wits (he looked OK and was kinda mean). Jonathan considered her the fairest beast ever imagined by the Lord’s endless mind, and the perfect use of a rib (all that’s true).

Though they both knew their love to be a tainted love (way before that stupid song), and impossible by the common law dictating their every day, Jonathan and Diana met whenever possible, on the soft green mosses next to singing brooks and away in lofty boughs of tall birches (they studied together once or twice, it was pretty average for a while).

Eventually, once their love had been whispered from the lips and to the ears of every maidservant in the shire, and was known by every goodly resident of Barnsdale, the Sheriff caught wind of the lovers. Truly their had never been such a commotion in the shire! The kind Sheriff, however, took pity on the lovers and united them in a wedding that has since been immortalized in word and song, not to mention a few sculptures and busts.