Last year was the first year I recall picking a theme word for the year. I don't recall if I've done it before, I might have. Last year's theme word was Embrace, which made it about a month before it faded from my awareness. Lots of people asking me about it, flak from, well, Arnaud the A-- pretty much dampened my enthusiasm for it, and I stopped with the theme word as I concentrated more on not jumping off the roof at work.

Despite the spectacular failure of last year's theme word to guide me through the year, I'm going to try again with a theme word this year. This year's theme word is

Now, I completely recognize the irony of this word as this year's theme word. You would, too, if you realized I'm about 80% deaf in one of my ears. Newly deaf, no less. So newly deaf that I still don't turn my head the correct way to hear people out of my good ear, I hold the phone up to the deaf ear, and I don't know how to read lips yet. I expect all of these will come with time.

So, to have Listen as my theme word may be odd.

And, yet, it is perfect.

I'm listening more to what other people have to say. Not only just hearing what other people have to say, but listening to what they say. I think this is a good thing. Finding the good parts from the words of people I like and respect is easy. Finding the good parts in the words of people who speak eloquently and well is easy (they summarize what they're saying). Finding the good parts from ignorant or disagreeable or stupid or frustrating people is much, much harder, and requires listening.

And that's my goal for this year, despite my newly acquired handicap.

To listen.

As a kid, I had some pretty strange notions about what being an adult was like.

When I was 11 or so, I came across my mom crying on the bottom of the staircase she had just fallen down, and asked her why she was crying. After she told me, I let her know she wasn't supposed to be crying. Surprised, she asked why not. "Adults don't cry."

Oh, little Kitty (for then, I was still Kitty and not the delightful Kitt you know and love today), if only you knew just how wrong you were by that thought.

And, yet, these days, I find myself in continual surprise at having nearly all of my assumptions about other people constantly challenged.

For some reason, I assume anyone who works in my industry knows more than I do about *pick any topic THEY KNOW MORE THAN I DO.* And this just isn't the case. That PHP developer I admire doesn't know crap about CSS or even where to begin styling a page. That Web Entrepreneur™ couldn't set up a server if his life depended on it. That project manager, oh, well, him. We all know he doesn't know shit. He demonstrates that every time he opens his mouth, just listen to him. No, not that PM. That one's good. He listens. The other one.

And I assume any woman older than I am cooks an amazing meal EACH AND EVERY TIME. I mean, come on, did my mom ever mess up a meal? Of course not. (Of course she did. She's human last I checked.) I know how to cook, I do a great job at baking. I love baking. So, of course, every other person in the world enjoys it as much as I do, and is as good at it as I am. NO, THEY ARE ALL BETTER!

Right?

Aaaaaaaaaaaand another "Of course not."

Of course not.

And yet, I am surprised when I realize this.

Every time I am surprised by this.

And delighted.

That whole impostor syndrome thing? It goes away when you objectively look at what you do. It goes away when you see what you can do. And not only in relation to how well someone else can do, but in a "You know what? I actually do this well. I enjoy doing this, and I do it well." sort of way. It goes away when you see your own accomplishments, challenge your assumptions about everything, and see the world with better clarity.

Best part of all of this?

Being able to say not only, "I don't know, and that's okay. Can you teach me?" but also, "I do know. Let me share with you."

When using the jQuery.Cycle plugin, the settings are configured on setup. Sometimes, however, you want to adjust them on the fly: adjust the speed in a subsequently loaded javascript file, adjust the speed based on hover or click, etc.

To do so, use the data element to get the cycle.opts values:

  var cycleopts = jQuery("#some-cycle").data('cycle.opts');

And change the values in particular to adjust:

  if (typeof jQuery("#some-cycle").cycle == 'function') {
    jQuery("#some-cycle").data('cycle.opts').timeout = 9000;
  }

All the cycle options are at http://jquery.malsup.com/cycle/options.html

At dinner last night, we were handed the usual wine and beer menus. I ignored them at first, then picked up the wine menu to look it over. I've been a fan of Malbecs for a couple years now, with their replacing the Oreana Best-Wine-In-The-World™ status. Well, as long as they're Argentinian Malbecs, and not a California Malbec. The latter rather suck.

Sure enough, on the menu were a number of Argentinian Malbecs.

I looked at the list and wondered about ordering a glass, mulled it over, then put the wine list back down, knowing I wouldn't order a glass.

I stopped drinking alcohol 17 days ago. It'll be a while before I drink again. And I'm good with this.

I don't particularly like alcohol. I've never liked the taste, and I don't really like what happens when I've drunk too much. I've been told I'm a belligerent drunk. I've been told I'm a happy drunk. I don't know which I really am. I do know that there's a point before I'm too far gone when I know I've had enough to drink and should stop. Aaaaaand when I cross that line, I don't stop drinking if there is alcohol is in front of me.

Unfortunately, I crossed that line 17 days ago.

I woke up without a hangover, feeling okay. I had no hangover because I had vomited up most of the Malbec I had drunk. To get to the point where you're vomiting is bad. To be at that point without someone to hold your head while you're puking is a very bad place to be. I was lucky on both fronts. This time, at least. I don't want to be at that point of near alcohol poisoning, at that point of so drunk I puke, at that point where I don't have anyone to hold my hair back as I vomit into the toilet, at that point where I need someone to make sure I make it to the morning alive.

So, I've stopped.

I don't need to drink alcohol. It's one of those things that if the doctor said, "You can never drink alcohol again in your life," I'd be fine with it, my life wouldn't be any less for the alcohol's absence. If she said, "You can't have chocolate ever again," I'd struggle a lot with that restriction.

I've done it before, gone years and years without drinking an alcoholic drink. I may miss the PARS (performance anxiety reduction serum) use of alcohol. I may miss the fun of a small whiskey tasting event. I'd say I'll miss the Portland blackberry drink, but that one is easily made non-alcoholic. So, no, I really won't miss alcohol.

And I'm good with that.