Paul Graham says...

Web 2.0 means using the web as it was meant to be used, and Google does. That's their secret. They're sailing with the wind, instead of sitting becalmed praying for a business model, like the print media, or trying to tack upwind by suing their customers, like Microsoft and the record labels. [7]

Google doesn't try to force things to happen their way. They try to figure out what's going to happen, and arrange to be standing there when it does.

My goodness. : )

 Every single time I define "Impossible" in terms of what can be done or can't be done with us, she shatters my definition.

This is a big deal, as I am 38, and pretty good at defining things.

Although it's complicated and Damocles has something hanging over us, I would not trade it for anything; She has reawakened my sense of wonder, and my awe of the impossible made real.

 I am finding myself increasingly interested in alternate reality games ( ARGs ). This is a game that uses the real world as the gameboard, with clues and actions being all present in real time, in real life. You might have to go to a certain website or a certain address and do something, talk to someone, or whatever. I played a kind of lame-but-still-interesting version of this kind of game at GenCon last year... and now I'm interested in making one go.

It would bring into one tight little package several areas of interest I have: viral flow of information across social networks, game design, and writing in particular.

I have an idea for a sort of starter-game. We'll see what I can come up with.

There are companies that do this, for money. This job has officially made it onto my Dream Jobs List.

; )

 Today was the day I told her.

I knew much earlier, but today, four weeks afterwards, I spoke the words.

I am taking care, lately, not to over-reach myself with words. With work, school, friends, or her.

Every first time I see her
eyes shine, heart skips,
and I pay homage
to countless cliches,
in vain looking for tools
to sculpt her, with words.

Every first time I touch her,
she looks at me,
touches me
as if it's her first time, too.

Every first time we share,
something you'd thought I'd have done long ago,
I smile, silent and silly,
because I'm young again.

The normal rules are shattered,
like a broken glass I first forgot I was holding,
and let drop,
shattering,
savoring the sound

Every first time I leave her,
I know it's not forever;

but it feels like it might be.

...

So every time I see her,
touch her,
share with her the smallest thing,
it's a whole new first time.

And I smile, silent and silly,
because I am young again.