I just finished reading Rework, the new book by 37signals, and although the book doesn’t pertain to media in particular, I felt like it was written for big publishers. You know the ones I’m talking about. Those media companies who love acquisitions, meetings, and synergies. The ones who pay more attention to the bottom line than they do readers. The ones that are too large to function. While every bit of Rework should be read by media executives, Web directors, editors, and journalists, if I had to pull out the best piece of advice from the book, it would be this: embrace constraints.

With all the crap and garbage there is on the Internet (this blog?), there is also a tremendous amount of creative content. I often find myself spending hours watching Vimeo videos, pondering on the minds that sprung forth such beautiful and imaginative content. I like to think of myself as a creative and pensive soul, but it’s always a sobering experience when I realize that while I may be creative I’m not a creative genius.

It’s amazing what our brains choose to remember and what they choose to forget. Our minds, unbeknownst to us, attach random acts to random memories. And each time those acts are carried out we think of those associated memories. These memories are intertwined in everything we do.

Who knows why, but I think about Dustin Hoffman every time I indulge in a cup of yogurt. Perhaps you’ve seen the movie Stranger Than Fiction, a delightful flick featuring Will Ferrell, Emma Thompson, and of course, Dustin Hoffman.

When it comes to dating, we all have a type. Tall, dark, skinny, blond, buff. The list goes on. Over the last two years I’ve noticed that I’m no longer attracted to the type I once was—preppy, frat-tastic, closed-minded. I suppose this transformation had a lot to do with my changing political beliefs and my deepening interest in music and art. Not to say fratties can’t be liberal or into music; it’s just rare. These days I’ve become interested in what I like to call the Kentucky Mountain Man.

Other Girls: “Hey Fella, Ya Fell” from Theodore Mallison on Vimeo.