I love SoCal. I hate SoCal. Well, maybe hate is a strong word. There are days when I get really irratated with this place we call Southern California. But then I love it again, especially on nights like tonight. 

It's 8 p.m. and still light enough to be sitting out on my patio, working on my laptop. (Remember when our computers kept us tied to our desks. Those big desktop beasts? I do NOT miss those days.) It's a comfortable 72 degrees (my favorite temperature), with a slight breeze. The street traffic is slowing down, getting quiet enough so I can hear the crickets chirping, and (thank goodness) my neighbors are quiet tonight. My dog just stole my beat up Reef flip flop off my foot and is running around the patio, shaking it to make sure it's good and dead. I think it is. A pair of birds are working hard on a nest that rests delicately on my satellite cables, under the eve just outside my patio door. One sits on the porch lamp, guarding, while the other adds the most recent find to the nest. 

Tonight, I love SoCal.

Great video on the impact of the Internet on art, and how it's empowered people to express themselves in new ways, and share content to build connections.

Wow. I'm pretty impressed with this advertisement by The Guardian, 3 Little Pigs and the Big Bad Wolf. It's entertaining, but also interesting on so many levels. It reflects where journalism is headed, and that yes, even newspapers have to take marketing/advertising to a new level these days. Plus, I love the multi-media incorporation within the storyline. And did I say it was fun? Well done, Guardian. Well done.

All I have to say is... yes.

(And this makes me very excited for this year's #BrandBowl!)

If J.J. Abrams has anything to do with a television show, I'll probably watch it. Some of my all-time favorite series are the result of his creative, intriguing story telling and characters - Alias, Lost, Fringe. So, of course, I had to watch Alcatraz. The first two episodes are off to a good start, and I'm hooked in enough and willing to see where they take this show. There is a sense of Lost, a touch of Fringe (the music adds to this feel, thanks to Michael Giacchino....love his work), and you wonder what this island has in store. Time travel? Any chance of alternate universes?

While the first two episodes offered a more predictable plotline, a template of sorts for future episodes, I'm hoping the show won't stick to that one mold. No, I think (hope?) Abrams will bring a few more twists to Alcatraz. Although, I have to admit, I did wonder if the Lost monster ate the prisoners and is now spitting them back out. Hey, it's a theory. Right?

All kidding aside, a colleague sent me this link and I enjoyed the comment from USA Today:

“And of course, there’s another problem: that inchoate, TV-watcher fear that the show may become too interesting, as Abrams’ shows tend to do. Alcatraz is easy enough to follow tonight, with twists and surprises that are enjoyable and not enervating. But you still may leave it wondering how long it will be before there are eight timelines and six universes. That’s the thing with islands. They can be easier to get on than get off."

Fear? No fear. Bring it, Abrams. Bring on the twists and the puzzles. Because if there's anything I don't want, it's a show that's too predictable. Where everything is solved episode by episode. Keep us guessing. Make us think. I'll stay on the island, the Rock, as long as you keep me intrigued.

Love this short film that captures the beauty of life's little moments, and more importantly, reminds us to appreciate them.

Related: The Huffington Post, "Montblanc Short Film Contest Seeks to Capture 'The Beauty of a Second'"

Some great ideas in this article from The Chronicle of Higher Education on incorporating blogs, social networks, bookmarking, etc. in the classroom to help students engage at a higher level.

A Social Network Can be a Learning Network

Years ago, a friend introduced me to a Dean Koontz novel. (Watchers.) And then I introduced my dad. While we both enjoy his books, my dad is hands down the biggest fan. Now he recommends and loans his Koontz books to me. So as a family of dog lovers, it's only fitting Dad recommended A Big Little Life, Koontz's memoir about Trixie, his beloved golden retriever.

(Side note to Dean Koontz, if you ever by chance see this rambling post. My parents now have a golden of their own. Inspired in part by you. And Trixie, of course.)

My first question when Dad handed me the book: "What chapter should I stop reading at?" I know how this ends. The way all good dog books end. With a box of tissue and puffy eyes. But even in my teasing, I knew I would read it. Every chapter. All the way to the end. And then proceed to remind my pup that she is required to live a very, very, unusually long dog life. I also frequently remind her of this every time she has the desire to chase a bus. Which is unfortunately more often than I would like.

Well, I've reached that chapter and find myself hesitant to continue. Maybe this weekend. Rainy day. Fire in the fireplace. Box of tissue. Pup by my side. Back up box of tissue. Appropriate setting for a tearjerker, don't you think?

But sniffles aside, I've loved the book so far. If you've ever had the pleasure of sharing life with a dog, you'll appreciate Koontz's anecdotes. Like their peculiar preferences when it comes to where they choose to do their business. Or how they train us to stay on their schedule. (Mom, this is snack time. You're supposed to give me a cookie right now. I'm going to stare at the cupboard and then you until you do.)  Koontz also captures those moments where man's best friend seems ever so much more than just a dog. They have an instinct and insight we often don't fully appreciate.

From the endearing times, to the humorous ones, to the moments in a dog's life we will never truly understand, Koontz opens up his heart and his home to share the story of a dog and her companions, while also reminding readers to appreciate the little wonders in life. 

"No, a plate of nachos is not the meaning of life. But finding joy in things as humble as a plate of nachos is an important step toward the discovery of meaning." (p.132)

And with that, the pup is tugging on my sleeve because I've spent too much time on the computer. Seriously. That wasn't a planned, "oh how conveniently appropriate," line. I've typed this sentence three times because she keeps pulling my arm. So I'll try to quickly sign off with one of my favorite passages in the book:

"For a dog, the world is an ever-expanding carnival of mysteries. Every new experience enchants, and every morning is full of promise. As children, we share that attitude, but we evict it when we become adults, as if the knowledge that comes with experience needs to occupy that particular chamber of the mind, as if wonder must make way for wisdom. But wisdom without wonder is not true wisdom at all, but only a set of practical skills married to tactical shrewdness of one degree or another." (p. 146)

My mom recently came across some old postcards she and my dad sent me from their vacation Hawaii. When I was 4 (and a half). So, she decided to mail them to me, along with a hilarious letter I apparently dictated to our family friend who was watching me and my brother while they were away.

My favorite: the postcard from Pearl Harbor. I enjoyed seeing how my mom delicately explained such a violent moment in history in terms simple enough for a 5 year old to understand.

"Today Mommy and Daddy took a bus out to here to see this big ship that is under the water. It was sunk by an airplane a long time ago. . . "

Nerd alert. I was just a little bit excited to stumble across this PRWeb blog infographic on Twitter. I can't wait to use it the next time I teach public relations and talk about Ivy Lee and Edward Bernays. Maybe it will help add a little spice to what students sometimes see as a boring PR history lesson.