How the other half lives

I tend to forget things. Important things, trivial things, thoughts I had 2 seconds ago, and more. It is thus surprising that I remember - on a daily basis - a completely unimportant moment I experienced about 5 years ago. This moment was somewhat of an epiphany - a discovery, of sorts, that I've often thought should be shared with someone, but never figured out who or in what circumstance. I just realized that this blog, which could be shared with the world, but in reality is read by no one, is the perfect place to publish my pointless epiphany.

Let me start by saying that one of my interests is in designing for usability, and so one of my biggest pet peeves is any poorly designed product. If I'm able to pick something up and point out how it could've been improved, then it's clearly shoddy design. In this category of goods, falls one product that I use on a daily basis, with equal annoyance each time - those paper toilet seat covers in public restrooms. I don't understand why they make them so that separating that inner piece requires such precise dexterity! I mean, the last thing I need after holding a grande latte back for 2 hours is a finicky seat cover!

By now, you're likely wondering how I've managed to stray so impossibly far from my original topic. But, here's the twist, my epiphanal (is that word?) moment occured during a chance encounter with a toilet seat cover that was cleanly cut and folded in the little dispenser perfectly, providing seat coverage in one graceful sweep of the arm. That's right, there was no ripping, tearing, trying to get it just right. I was astounded and delighted that someone had finally redesigned this object of my disdain. I actually had a brief little second of joy over my discovery. However, and here our story takes yet another twist, I was later forced to conclude that my experience was a fluke, a stroke of temporary luck that gave me access to an upscale product I had no right to enjoy. For, although I used that office restroom for another year, the perfectly functioning seat covers were never seen again. It seems clear to me that the maintenance staff must have run out of standard covers and used one of the packages generally reserved for the executive restrooms, upstairs. Unfortunately, for me, I am reminded each time I struggle with the ubiquitous cheap paper covers that somewhere, someone is benefiting from the use of a perfectly usable design that I am not entitled to enjoy. Like Winston, I have saved the knowledge of that slip of paper in the back of my mind, and I know that 2+2=4...

Ode to Cerebra (aka Eschew Faux Erudition)

I've finally entered the blogesphere, and I'm struck by the amount of time I spent selecting just the right display name and title! Sheesh - I just wanted to have an account so I could post some comments on a friend's blog, and now, 45 minutes later, I have finally started what should have probably been done 40 minutes ago...

What took me so long? I had to read through the tiny dictionary that came with my "Cerebra" edition of "Magnetic Poetry" to find something witty and fitting for my title. In the end, I think I've captured the very condition that will most likely drive me to post my intermittent musings here.

Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on your particular view of my pedagoguery) my inchoate blogging career must wait, since I now have real work to which I must return. In the meantime, I hope that this paragon of writing will inspire your own vocabulary peregrination.