melt aweigh pounds - but not with Spam

Bradley installed last year a "spam quarantine firewall" to prevent our inboxes from being inundated with unwanted, disgusting, and even x-rated e-mail. The filter generally does a good job, although occasionally it does filter legitmate e-mail, especially if it contains an attachment. One day I found an e-mail to myself (from my Bradley account) in the quarantine box. Because of this, we are forced to scan the quarantine box regularly.

This morning I realized that this has become one of my least favorite tasks—right up there with adding toner powder to the copy machine.

The messages are often from xcvxqwkdjf@jlk.com or some other address that is completely indecipherable. Or they come from "Doctor" or "Angel" or maybe from just plain "Bill." I suppose they try to avoid filters looking for common spam words, so several words in the subject line are always misspelled: Nexican Phamacy.

The spammers assume that most of us want to boost our sexul performance, take drugs for anxity, get the inside scope on an invetment deal, or lose wait. Many of us also evidently fear that we forgot to pay for the Canon printer we bought on ebay and are sure our account is about to be suspended or that an identity thief has discovered our PayPal or Citibank password.

I am tired of it and no longer wish to check this list of come-ons for legitimate e-mails. Not sure what I will miss by neglecting it, but it won't be Angel.

a bright yellow office!

I may work in a cubicle, but when I take work home in the evenings or on weekends, I get to spread it out in an office that has two huge windows and a door to the outside (the door doesn't actually open, but it has windows, and maybe this summer I will fix it). This office is one of my favorite rooms in the house, because I can look out onto the yard and the street and watch passersby as I work. Recently, I decided to paint the floor. Even though the floor is hard wood, it is in disastrous condition (from a leaky radiator and a very sloppy paint job). I didn't discover this until I tore up the carpet a few months back.

So, I decided to paint the floor, as I hate to part with the cash to have it refinished right now.

Somehow, the idea of painting the floor led to visions of transforming the semi-gloss white walls to a bright color. I was looking through a "cottage living" magazine and kept seeing yellow and blue as a very pleasant combination. As I looked at the walls, I realized that the crack that stretches all around the room must have been caused when someone removed a chair rail. So, I decided I would try my hand at the mitre saw and restore the wall by adding a white rail.

As I was shopping for a new printer on the Epson website today, I found a playful link that I couldn't resist: "Create a Relaxing Work Environment", which uses Feng Shui theory.

The first suggestion is:

Red flowers placed in the upper left quadrant of
your office or desk can bring financial success.

I doubt that, but I was greatly pleased by the second tip:

Yellow is the best color for the home office because
it is peaceful and cheerful.

Now, I can't wait to get this painting done (it has taken quite a while) so I can relax in peace and cheer as I proofread!

The tips also include this:

If you don’t have a view outside from where you sit
at your desk, hang a plant or a picture of a plant in
your line of sight. It promotes peace and tranquility
which will make you more relaxed and productive.

My cubicle here at work does have several plants, but I sit with my back to them. I am going to start looking for a bright riotous picture of yellow flowers to hang on the wall in front of me.

I also learned that:

Round-edged furniture stimulates creativity;
squared edges promote assertive negotiations.

All my cubicle furniture has sharp angles. Not much I can do about that, but perhaps I should trade in the library table I use at home for a round table. That would be fun and would go with the happy look of the yellow paint.

By the way, Epson lists as its source for these tips: Marilyn Zelinsky, Practical Home Office Solutions, p. 142-143

paper

"An oral contract is not worth the paper it's written on."

"Paper Jam." "Open Tray 1 and remove the jammed paper."

"I have to write a paper for Psychology class tonight."

"Jumbo Sized GEM Paper Clips."

I have been thinking a lot about paper lately. On one of the listservs I belong to the discussion of moving to web-only university catalogs or schedules of classes has come up again. I can understand this for class schedules because the information can change on a daily basis and they have a short shelf life. I think for catalogs it's a bad idea. If they exist only online, will people be able to access them in 25 years? Will they have the software to read the files?

I was cleaning out some office files yesterday and came across a banana yellow 3.5" floppy disk that must have contained some important information at one time, as it had been carefully put in a plastic envelope and filed away. Before throwing it out, I thought briefly about hanging it on my cubicle wall for decoration. I have no idea what was on it because I doubt there's a computer on the entire Bradley campus that has a drive that could read this disk. Whatever was on it has been lost. Since this is the Publications Office, however, its contents probably are printed in a catalog or newsletter somewhere. A copy of it most likely still exists.

At the doctor's office the other day, I watched the nurse carefully write down my weight and blood pressure on a neat little form for the doctor to review. She signed the bottom of the form before leaving the room. The doctor came in and wrote more notes on the form and he too signed it. He handed me my file to take with me to the front desk. Of course, I had to take a few minutes to look throught it while I slowly put my shoes on. It chronicled, in several different people's handwriting, my health for the past ten years. It contained xray readings and lab reports. All on paper! Perhaps some doctors have gone paperless, but it's probably more time consuming to make sure computers are available (and working) in every room and that people know how to use them. And that you can find what you need on them when you need it.

For many things, paper just makes more sense. I'm not giving up my job in the print world that easily!

some peace and protection

I was having lunch with a friend who works at a nearby medical complex. One of her coworkers was robbed at gunpoint last year. Recently, another person in her small office was held up a knife point. "If you're going to walk, carry protection," she told me firmly.

"I need Banjo to walk with me," I said.

Banjo is my tall, black, year-old Lab. He's a sweetheart - just a great well-balanced personality. To enjoy his company and his protection on my walk home at night, however, I would have to have him with me at work in the afternoon. He would be a gem in the office. I would bring him if we had a policy that allowed it.

I know there are many potential problems: allergic coworkers, people terrified of black dogs, someone bringing an aggressive dog to work, dogs barking while you're on the phone.

But I think there are many benefits too. The relaxing feeling of a dog curled up at your feet as you write. Not having to worry that your dog is home alone chewing up the sofa because he misses you. The feeling of well being that a dog brings to any environment.

I have written before about how wonderful it was for one week when we were selling our house and I brought my chocolate Lab, Lucy, to work with me.

According to a recent online survey, two-thirds of dog owners said they would put in longer hours if they could bring their dog to work.The poll, conducted by the online dog forum Dogster and the job search engine Simply Hired, reported that nearly one-third of those surveyed said they would go so far as taking a five percent pay cut if their dog could come to work with them. I would do that too, just for the peace of mind.

We all make mistakes…

Editors live in fear of typos hitting the press. We dream about all the horrible things that can happen when we commit type to paper. We wake up in a sweat, fearing the annual report is going to hit people's mailboxes and that we've left the "l" out of "public." We make printer reps and designers crazy as we read bluelines letter by letter.

"How could this have happened???" reverberates in our heads as we imagine a man in a suit standing in our doorway with smoke curling out of his ears.

So I pity the editor of The Chronicle Review. While I was on hold yesterday, I was studying the cover of the November 25, 2005 edition folded on my desk. I read the 40 point headline: "The Challeges Ahead for Higher Education."

I think when this first came out, my eyes filled in the missing letter. Sitting doodling as I waited for someone to answer my call, however, the typo jumped out at me.

Mistakes happen. All the editors and proofreaders have gone home and the designer has to make a last-minute adjustment to the type. Her finger slips and deletes a letter. The designer is the editor and mental fatigue sets in.

No matter how carefully we proofread, we will always miss something. I like to have as many eyes as possible look over a piece before it goes to the printer. I like to put important pieces down and read them again the next day.

One of my English professors, dismayed at the number of typos he had found in our work, handed out pieces of cardboard and scissors to the class one evening. He made us sit and cut out a hole the size of a line of type on letter-size paper. We were told for our next assignment we were to hold this frame over every line and read it twice. We would fail the assignment if we had one misspelled word, one comma out of place.

Of course, looking for typos can be an obsession. At restaurants, I enjoy scanning the menu looking for errors. One of my favorite usage errors hung on the wall of a post office, where I learned that a person's disappearance may have been the result of "fowl" play. I imagined a flock of hens attacking the poor soul.

jump

I have been trying to come up with a new cover concept for the summer/fall class schedule. Maybe because it's bleak January, but I have a desire to express enthusiasm and energy on this cover. I'd like to find an image full of vitality.

The word "jump" sprang to mind. Jump into new classes. Go for it. A few slogans "leapt" to mind that could be joined with the image.

I quickly found the neat image above while searching for jumpy images. What fun!

Combining concepts, images, and words is the most joyful part of my job. Doing so exercises many mental muscles simultaneously, something that, frankly, doesn't happen enough for must of us. It can't be happening as we go around with such dull expressions. Look at the faces around you as you walk down office halls, type e-mails, or sit in meetings.

By the way, the above image was purchased from a great, low-cost website istockphoto, which all publications people on a budget should know about. Photographer for the above photo is Diane Diederich.

vulnerable

At Bradley we are fortunate to have off the week between Christmas and New Year's. Trudging back into the building yesterday morning, I was greeted by several people who wished me a happy new year - and some who quickly added that they would have enjoyed another week off.

Well, I am hoping for a good new year, but this one didn't get off to a great start. I would also enjoy another week off, but I also feel a little safer here in my cubicle! I didn't explain all this to the well-wishers, so I will do that here.

First, I think we are much more vulnerable than we usually let ourselves believe.

New Year's Day. I am driving down Interstate 55 for a family gathering. At my nephew's request, I bring along my dog Lucy.

I hear a bang from underneath the hood and see white smoke out the back. I pull off the road. A patrolman will pass by soon.

I call my sister. She can get here in about an hour.

I call the motor club. They can't locate any help. I have in my purse the number for a Peoria towing service. They will come, but I have to pay in cash. I look in my wallet. OK, I say hesitantly. I'll worry about that once he gets here.

No one else to call now.

A brown ribboned cornfield to my right. An old farmhouse in the far distance. Lucy watches the traffic rip past us. She is trembling. The trucks shake the car as they pass.

I am alone. No one seems to see me.

The patrolmen are sleeping in after New Year's Eve.

I sit for an hour. No one sees me.

My sister calls my phone. "I see you, I see you!" She goes to the next exit and turns around so she is heading my direction. We unload everything of value from the car and then help Lucy into the van.

I feel like laughing and crying. She has some cash.

Before heading home, we find a Starbucks. Ice water for Lucy and huge lattes for us. We sit in the van for a while and savor the calming hot liquid. We aren't anxious to get back on the highway.