I don’t want to write a blog post tonight or tomorrow. Haha,
I’m getting burned out.
I is for Iguana. I don’t know much about iguanas.
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I is for Iguana. I don’t know much about iguanas.
I is for ignorance. Ignorance is bliss.
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I is for Indigo Girls. I first heard the Indigo Girls when I
was in high school and a new friend made me a mix tape. It had Indigo Girls and
Kate Bush and other indie artists and I loved the Indigo Girls the best. Then
my brother went to college and got an Indigo Girls album that I liked listening
to. I bought all the albums of theirs I could get after college. I heard them
in Charlotte a few years ago, in a small coffee shop bar. I was in the front
row and it was amazing. I never saw them at the height of their popularity.
Small bars are great for concerts though – so intimate.
I is for Igloo. I learned about igloos when I wrote a paper
about native peoples architecture. I had never thought about the fact that a
real igloo is only about 40 degrees inside. They weren’t full time dwelling
structures, generally speaking. They were more commonly temporary structures
for hunting and fishing expeditions. And they didn’t have an opening right in
the side. Instead, there was a
tunnel out through the snow. It would angle down away from the igloo and then
angle back up and out. The angle kept cold wind and snow from rushing into the
igloo. I guess 40 degrees is pretty nice when it’s below freezing outside.
Sometimes they made a door covering using skin glazed with fat to make it
translucent. Sometimes they did stay in the igloo for a long time, and when
spring came, the roof would melt in and a temporary fur skin roof would be put up
in its place. It’s amazing to me that not only do people survive in
environments like that, but they stay there. Did it never occur to them to
travel south for nicer weather? What makes a nomadic people group stay within
certain boundaries?
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I is for inside. I don’t like being inside. I prefer to go outside.
I is for I. The first person singular pronoun, gender
neutral.
I is for ice. Tori is now singing Let it go. She loves the
song. I love the song too. It makes me cry.
I is for Internal. Internal affairs, internal memos,
internal messages. Internal, inside.
I have doubled up photos within my iphoto.
I is for all things Apple. The iPad, the iPhone, iPhoto,
iTunes, iMac. But what does the “i” stand for? Internet?
I is for the Internet. I still remember when the internet
first was invented. Who knew what it would turn into? I don’t think DARPA knew.
And the Internet was in parts – email lists, news forums and threads, the World
Wide Web, etc. People used all different parts – now it’s all WWW and people
don’t even think about things like the old listservs and message boards.
Because those things are incorporated into the WWW. Anyone could learn html.
Anyone could throw up a website. And we all did. I used to just wander around
looking at terrible websites. There was one I loved: Cruel Site of the Day.
They specialized in finding bizarre, awful, and just plain bad websites to
feature. Free publicity, of a kind.
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