30 August 2009

juldea: (techy joco)
Huh. I just actually researched a question I'd had about LJ and tags, and there's indeed an answer, and it's one I like!

From http://www.livejournal.com/support/faqbrowse.bml?faqid=226 :
Tags inherit security settings based on the entries they are used with. For instance, a tag used on private entries or not used on any entries will be private, so none of your friends will be able to see or use it in your journal. If you use a tag on entries with a mixture of security settings, it will use the least restrictive security setting -- a tag used on a public entry and a private entry is public. There is no way to specify the security of a tag without changing the security level of the entries with that tag, since anyone who can see your entries can also see its tags.

Which means if I make umpteen private posts about my secret love of the Peruvian nose flute and use a tag that says "Peruvian nose flute" on all of them, that tag still wouldn't show up for you in my list of tags. Excellent! My secret double life remains secret.
juldea: (techy joco)
Huh. I just actually researched a question I'd had about LJ and tags, and there's indeed an answer, and it's one I like!

From http://www.livejournal.com/support/faqbrowse.bml?faqid=226 :
Tags inherit security settings based on the entries they are used with. For instance, a tag used on private entries or not used on any entries will be private, so none of your friends will be able to see or use it in your journal. If you use a tag on entries with a mixture of security settings, it will use the least restrictive security setting -- a tag used on a public entry and a private entry is public. There is no way to specify the security of a tag without changing the security level of the entries with that tag, since anyone who can see your entries can also see its tags.

Which means if I make umpteen private posts about my secret love of the Peruvian nose flute and use a tag that says "Peruvian nose flute" on all of them, that tag still wouldn't show up for you in my list of tags. Excellent! My secret double life remains secret.
juldea: (Default)


Also? Googling shows I'm not at all original in "thinking up" this joke. Oh well.
juldea: (Default)


Also? Googling shows I'm not at all original in "thinking up" this joke. Oh well.
juldea: (keroppi)
I just washed the kitchen floor.

I don't have a mop. I first started with paper towels + water + Simple Green, but after tossing out four paper towels for the first few squares of tile, thought I should come up with a better plan. I realized I had three small dishcloths and - this is not something I'm used to - the ability to plug my kitchen sink, so I filled it with a few inches of water and tossed the dishcloths in with some Simple Green. Then I picked up a dishcloth, wrung it out, scrubbed the floor with it, and when it seemed too dirty to go further, tossed it in the water and grabbed the next. Poor man's mop!

I don't think the rest of the world is going to understand that this is momentous. I'm trying to remember the last floor I actually got around to washing instead of staring at it for months and months feeling crap because I had a dirty floor but also feeling unable to get around to cleaning it due to the work involved and the time commitment. The floor at Pine Street always bothered me, but it was so huge (our kitchen was easily the largest room in the house) I never got up the ability to do more than spot-clean it. I don't recall ever cleaning at Elm Street or Walnut Street, but it's possible and just too far back to remember. But basically I've been carrying this dirty-floor guilt and angst since Pine Street when it would always kind of automatically rob me of a spoon to see it and feel unable to do anything about it.

But my kitchen floor here? Maybe 5x5. Tiny apartment, tiny kitchen. Even then this project started with me grabbing paper towels to clean the couple tile squares under the cat dishes and no more. But I realized I had the time and I'd feel fucking awesome if I did the whole floor, so I enacted the kitchen-sink-washcloth-mop plan and went to it. It took maybe 15 minutes at most.

Fucking awesome.
juldea: (keroppi)
I just washed the kitchen floor.

I don't have a mop. I first started with paper towels + water + Simple Green, but after tossing out four paper towels for the first few squares of tile, thought I should come up with a better plan. I realized I had three small dishcloths and - this is not something I'm used to - the ability to plug my kitchen sink, so I filled it with a few inches of water and tossed the dishcloths in with some Simple Green. Then I picked up a dishcloth, wrung it out, scrubbed the floor with it, and when it seemed too dirty to go further, tossed it in the water and grabbed the next. Poor man's mop!

I don't think the rest of the world is going to understand that this is momentous. I'm trying to remember the last floor I actually got around to washing instead of staring at it for months and months feeling crap because I had a dirty floor but also feeling unable to get around to cleaning it due to the work involved and the time commitment. The floor at Pine Street always bothered me, but it was so huge (our kitchen was easily the largest room in the house) I never got up the ability to do more than spot-clean it. I don't recall ever cleaning at Elm Street or Walnut Street, but it's possible and just too far back to remember. But basically I've been carrying this dirty-floor guilt and angst since Pine Street when it would always kind of automatically rob me of a spoon to see it and feel unable to do anything about it.

But my kitchen floor here? Maybe 5x5. Tiny apartment, tiny kitchen. Even then this project started with me grabbing paper towels to clean the couple tile squares under the cat dishes and no more. But I realized I had the time and I'd feel fucking awesome if I did the whole floor, so I enacted the kitchen-sink-washcloth-mop plan and went to it. It took maybe 15 minutes at most.

Fucking awesome.

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