It interests me that most plateaus tend to last two days before dipping back down. I usually do a 20+ hour fast on those days, so I imagine most of the weight loss is water. Still -- it's a pattern and we humans like patterns.
By rights, I should have been at 206 or thereabouts by the end of the period. But my rise in weight from the 20th onward is positively evil. My enemies no doubt learned of my experiment and enlisted an all-too-eager world to derail me.
What can I say? They succeeded. But let's be grateful: I stayed below 210 so I did achieve and sustain a 2lb. loss. Take our successes where we can.
A new idea that came my way: I don't have an eating problem so much as a thinking problem. That is something to ponder as I make my new chart and carry on measuring.
Two incidents yesterday consumed lots of investigation and research time. Then, with the right trick, dissolved into nothing. It's finding that "right trick" that's tricky.
Importing Audible Downloads to iTunes
Scott wanted to burn his Audible purchases to CD so he could listen to the books both in his car and on the CD player in his office. He's on Windows 7.
Trying to download purchases from his Audible library page only took us to a generic "how to listen to your audiobooks" page. I poked around the support pages and downloaded the Audible Download Manager (ADM) application--nothing. I authorized his computer to download Audible files--nothing. I installed iTunes because it was clear from the support docs that burning Audible books to CD is really only supported via iTunes. I specified to ADM that we were using iTunes. But again, nothing.
At this point, I contacted tech support via chat and it was escalated up to someone with more divine knowledge.
She pointed me to an obscure setting on the Accounts page.
Go to Audible.com in your web browser and log in to your account.
Hover your mouse over where it says, "Hi, Firstname!" at the top of the page and select Account Details.
Log in again.
Click Update Settings in the left column.
At the bottom of the settings page is a section titled Software Verification with a single checkbox. That setting controls whether Audible will check to see if the Audible Download Manager (ADM) is on the user's computer. Clear that checkbox (that is, turn it OFF -- we did not want Audible to check if ADM was installed).
After clearing that setting, clicking the Download button downloaded a file called "admhelper." I double-clicked the admhelper file and the download instantly started in ADM. It even loaded the file into iTunes' Audiobooks section. (If everything were working as expected, ADM would intercept and run that file.)
I would never have found that setting nor would I have known what to do with it had I found it.
Troubleshooting time: about 90 minutes.
The Case of the Rogue MP3 Tags
I had a 2GB collection of 299 short spoken-word audio files. I'd run them through Audio Book Builder to create a multi-part audio book I could listen to using iBooks on my iPhone.
The files were reasonably named in CamelCase format, like "AMomentIWillNeverForget.mp3," and sorted alphabetically in the Finder.
But when I looked at the audiobook "chapters" (that is, the individual MP3 files) in the iBooks interface, there were no filename titles. Only names like "Recording 413" or "Recording 56." It wasn't a sad sad sad thing, but I would have preferred seeing the filenames instead.
Looking at a sample file with Get Info, I could see that the Title metadata was "Recording 56."
OK, so the person's recording software automatically assigned a title to the recording. The original recording may even have been automatically titled "Recording 56." So he renamed the file in the Finder or Windows Explorer rather than using audio-editing software. So while the file had his intended name, the file's metadata carried the original "Recording 56."
Which in the real world may not be an issue, but when you want to play that file in iTunes or on any MP3 device, the software will look at the Title tag and ignore the filename. I tried using Doug Adams' Join Together application and got the same result: it read the Title tag, not the filename.
What to do, what to do. I started searching for "mac application mp3 tag editor" and even added "automator." I did not want to individually edit 299 files; it needed to be a batch operation. And I could tell that even Doug's Applescripts could not help me here; they depended on well-tagged files and would not, I think, scoop up the filename for use as a variable.
I skimmed the various offerings using my "zero grief policy" criteria and passed by those that looked old, too fiddly, or required compiling a command-line app (though a command-line app in a script might have been able to do the job).
I considered Metadatics and looked at the other projects the guy offers. Where there's one audio program available, there are usually 3 or 4.
And lo, I found it: a freeware app called Tag Stripper. Its purpose in life was simple: to remove all of a file's metadata.
Tag Stripper will eliminate any non-audio data from an audio file. Some examples of tags that are removed are: ID3v1, ID3v2, Logic Metadata, Garage Band Metadata, and Pro Tools Metadata.
Better: all you needed to do was drop one or many files on the application and it would either output the stripped files to a new directory or overwrite the old files.
So maybe I didn't need to be a cleverboots and find a way to switch a tag with a filename. Maybe clearing the tags was all I needed to do.
I tested Tag Stripper on copies of five files, choosing to overwrite the old ones. The Finder showed that the Title metadata was gone. I dragged the new files into Audio Book Builder and lo! The filenames now appeared.
Success! Heady with excitement, I dragged all 299 files onto the Tag Stripper application and watched in awe and delight as it chewed through all the files, one by one, leaving clean files in their place.
I regenerated the audiobook files with the stripped files and I can now scan the filenames in iBooks. My OCD is satisfied.
Time spent: maybe an hour or two, off and on.
Conclusion?
I don't know that there was a method to my troubleshooting beyond:
Know that I can solve the problem, or at least get a result close to what I want.
Try stuff.
Ask for help when I don't know what to do next.
Be open to the solution being different from what I expected or wanted.
Improvise, dance, adapt to circumstances.
Thing is, I've been futzing with computers since the mid-80s and so this is all a bit of a pastime for me. How do normal people deal with this mess?
I have been posting lots of stuff since December 25, 2017. Not as much as Seth Godin, of course, but my little share. Why?
I don't know why, precisely, except...I see that I've been posting lots of tips and tricks, advice, things I've learned from years of working with computers, writing, and myself, and a few ideas or curios that seemed worth sharing.
I cannot find a unifying thread to the posts, nor does there need to be one, of course.
But I had a thought today -- maybe I'm emptying my cup. You've certainly heard some version of the old zen proverb:
Scholar Tokusan, who was full of knowledge and opinions about the dharma, came to Ryutan and asked about Zen.
At one point Ryutan re-filled his guest's teacup but did not stop pouring when the cup was full. Tea spilled out and ran over the table. "Stop! The cup is full!" said Tokusan.
"Exactly," said Master Ryutan. "You are like this cup; you are full of ideas. You come and ask for teaching, but your cup is full; I can't put anything in. Before I can teach you, you'll have to empty your cup."
As the commentary on that page explains:
By the time we reach adulthood we are so full of stuff that we don't even notice it's there. We might consider ourselves to be open-minded, but in fact, everything we learn is filtered through many assumptions and then classified to fit into the knowledge we already possess.
This blog started out years ago as an online research notebook: a place where I could learn about Wordpress, how to maintain a web site, and take notes on my progress through UNC-CH's Master's of Information Science program.
Later I found that I felt better on days I wrote than on days I didn't. That fueled some writing but my output was irregular, and this blog became more of a mostly blank canvas, with splotches of color here and there.
But on Christmas day last year, for whatever reason, the blog became a vessel into which I started pouring stuff that wanted to come out. It's a hodgepodge and that's OK, that's what is swirling in my mind right now.
Perhaps the reason I'm posting every day is to empty my mind and see what new knowledge (if any!) will fill that space. I've held on to a lot of this stuff for a long time. Time to share it and learn some new things.
I evaluated lots of Windows help authoring tools for one of my early freelancing jobs. As I searched various tech writer forums for criteria, one piece of advice stood out.
One of the writers said he adopted a "zero grief policy" when evaluating any software.
Was the install process too manual? Chuck it.
After the install, did the software drop you into a blank screen and leave you to figure out what to do next? Chuck it.
Did the menu items and dialog boxes help you through the process or did they leave you wondering where to start? Chuck it.
Was the help authoring tool's model so tough to understand that you got lost in its complexity? Chuck it.
I took that advice seriously. The software I picked was going to be used by developers and non-writers after I left, so it had to be as easy as possible to use.
Now, Windows help authoring tools are not as easy to use as a text editor and never will be. But if I could get the file started, and if the menus and dialogs could help these novice users along the way with the least friction possible, then the project would be a success. (We went with Help & Manual.)
Adopting a "zero grief policy" isn't always possible, of course. But whenever I'm evaluating any purchase -- software, a car, a gadget -- I am looking at it with the typical user mindset of Don't make me think! If it causes me the least amount of grief, I chuck it.
We spent last evening at Blue Note Grill to watch The Malpass Brothers, a home-grown band from Goldsboro, NC, that loves traditional bluegrass and country & western songs.
Chris and Taylor Malpass are as genuine with their retro Porter Wagoner suits and haircuts as they sound. There were bits of cornpone humor, sure, mainly provided by Taylor, though all six band members had their turn.
But the star of the show was their musicianship. Every member of the band was top-notch and their love for the material was thrilling.
Here's a trailer for a documentary being made on the brothers called Heading Home.
I only occasionally take a 1-Second Everyday video. Most of my days are spent at a boring cubicle or my home office. If I take a video, it's when we're out and about on the weekends. Even then, we tend to go to the same places (like the Carolina Theatre), so I don't bother.
I update the 5-year diary definitely every weekend, sometimes on weekdays depending on if anything interesting happened (see previous paragraph). I use a FollowUpThen reminder email at 9pm every night to remind me to do this.
I have not missed a day of blogging since I started on December 25, 2017. I have made daily writing and publishing a priority and experience no inner conflict about that decision. No big deal. This is just what I do.
I got very little sleep, about 5 hours. My fourth or fifth night of poor sleep. This usually puts me in a tender and irritable mood for the rest of the day.
My weight is 2.5 lbs over the control line. It started climbing last Thursday and continues to climb. The poor nights' sleep is contributing to this, as are likely poor choices on my part.
Left early to get the car's oil changed. Turns out it's past time for its 120,000-mile service. The bill for this will be in the high three figures, which takes my breath away. I am a little ill-mannered to the service guy, though he is sympathetic.
I fold myself into the shuttle van taking me to work, and unfold myself as I emerge.
I notice I am bumping into stuff -- hallway corners, my chair, my desk, the edges of things. This has always been a signal to me that I am in my head, thinking, and not in my body.
I hang on to the Constructive Living mantra of "accept your feelings, know your purpose, do what needs to be done."
I deal with the various tasks I need to deal with. From the blue, I come up with workable solutions to two technical problems and the developers OK the ideas.
I skip lunch and just eat some hard-boiled eggs and cheese sticks. I drink lots of water and two cups of coffee.
I listen to Mary Schiller's Daily Principles on my iPhone as I can only take in bite-sized bits of information. She sounds so perky and upbeat. Her words are a good reminder to ignore my aggrieved feelings about not getting enough sleep. Just get on with your day, do the best you can. The feelings pass.
I reflect that I'm grateful for all the help I received today: the service guy, the shuttle guy, the guys who worked on my car (and washed and vacuumed it), the colleague who gives me a lift back to the shop -- all the people who keep my little world turning today.
It is rush hour on the drive home and my indignation is triggered multiple times. I notice the hot feelings, picture scenarios where I flail and yell at the drivers I think caused my indignation, then shake my head quickly "No." There is no cause and effect to these feelings, despite circumstances; they're impersonal. I am susceptible to indignation thoughts, especially when I am tired.
I get home, put my things away, start writing. Get the writing done and post this blog ASAP. Then, after supper, wash the dishes, take out the trash, and read a little. Go to bed and hope for a good night's sleep.
I experienced the original PopCap Plants vs Zombies game on my MacBook in 2009, coinciding with my first semester of PhD school. Possibly the worst or the best time to become addicted to a fun and lively game, depending.
I loved the game's wittiness, aliveness, hilarious sound and visual design, and its simple, straightforward gameplay. It offered enough variety and twists for novelty, but was never so hard that I couldn't figure out a way to beat every level. Plus, it sported the most darling, catchy, mood-setting, equally witty soundtrack; I just listen to a few bars and I am smiling for no good reason.
Crucially, it was also an indie project at Popcap. When EA bought Popcap, that lovely individuality was effectively squashed as the corporate hive-mind was devoted to "freemium" games where they could squeeze as many pennies as possible from their users.
On my iPad, I downloaded Plants vs Zombies 2. While the gameplay was familiar, and the wittiness still present, I was in the end disappointed by the experience and deleted it from my iPad.
The game is free but the non-stop ads to make in-app purchases for extra plants, gems, coins, etc. took the wind out of my sails (and out of their sales). I was also irked by obnoxious video ads for other games taking over the screen. I don't care about these stupid games -- turn the ads off!
The original game was not "pay to play"; everything I needed to win came with the game. Although somereviews say it is possible to win PvZ2 without the extra purchases, the player is forced to replay earlier levels to rack up more coins and gems so they can survive the tougher levels and unlock new worlds. This makes the experience more of a slog than a delight. While the reviewers praise the gameplay, they also lament the paywall "feature."
God, and the new "worlds": the old West, a pirate ship, ancient Egypt. That was as far as I got. I felt always a little lost as to where I was in this giant zombieverse. The clarity and simplicity of the original was gone.
Another reason I deleted the game was that it was so damn addicting! Because a round takes only about 3-4 minutes to play, I would tell myself, "Just one more. Shoot. OK, one more. Shoot. OK, just one last one."
I got stuck on a couple of difficult levels, began obsessing how to win them, and repeated that "just-one-more" gambit for up to an hour at a time. While I knew the game was not inflicting any weird psychological damage, I also knew that it was not my friend and was keeping me from better things.
Like writing. And reading. And just sitting in the dark and being quiet, which is way more restorative.
Fluid lets you create a Real Mac App (or "Fluid App") out of any website or web application, effectively turning your favorite web apps into OS X desktop apps.
Facebook, Pandora, Gmail -- any app you use in a browser tab you can turn into a standalone application.
Why is this useful? For me, it lets me have my YNAB app in its own browser window so that I can Command-Tab quickly to the browser to view my credit union accounts page and then back to the YNAB display.
Another example: I'm writing this post in a SquareSpace "fluidapp." I can quickly Command-Tab to the browser to do quick searches or copy URLs without doubling back to hunt among my tabs for the blog posting window.
Yes, sure, I could Ctrl-Tab to troop through the browser tabs, or I could simply open the browser tab in its own browser window.
But I like the cleanliness and simplicity of having some web apps running in their own application windows. It means much less friction for me overall.
Mark Forster's ideas, as I've said elsewhere on this blog, have been very influential on my thinking about task and self management.
His 2006 post, made when he was still a time management coach, is an example of him developing his own methods to meet his own inconsistencies. And then, if that weren't enough, to make the method as simple as possible.
Mark's simple question -- "How good am I feeling right now?" -- and the simple grading -- reply to yourself on a scale from 1-10 -- are similar to other self-measures of subjective pain or exertion. But this question is so much more abstract and the results more powerful. Mark trusts the subconscious, the Undermind, your intuition, whatever you want to call it, to respond.
The other key component of this method is what you don't do. Don't try to fix anything, don't try to raise the number, don't try to make yourself feel better. That just puts more pressure on you.
Rather, ask the question, notice the answer, and then get on with your day. Many of Mark's methods rely on such simple questioning, simply noticing what you're doing and feeling. You are more powerful than you know, and tapping that power requires very little effort.
I tracked my responses to this question last fall, and started at 5 or 5-6. Over a very short time, it climbed to 8-9. These days, I'm pretty consistently at 7-8.
In the comments, one of the posters suggested changing the question. Mark replied:
“Also I don’t think your question is as versatile as mine. Would your question be capable of curing someone from fear of flying or get them through multiple chemotherapy and radiation sessions, plus being in a wheelchair unable to walk, type or eat solids? My question did.”