Last weekend, I had the chance to volunteer at a GoBridge event taught by Bill Kennedy of Ardan Labs. I’m trying to make 2017 my year of learning Go, so helping out at the event felt like a natural extension and a great way to connect with more people in the Go community.
Going in with Ruby as my first language, I braced myself for static typing and wanted concurrent programming to bend my brain, but that’s not really what happened at all.
Over the past couple of years, one thing I’ve become more and more aware of is the unease and uncertainty of diving into a new project. Not matter what the new X is, I find I always go through the same set of uncomfortable feelings on my initial approach.
Now, though, I’m starting to become familiar enough with this process that – even though the discomfort doesn’t go away in the initial learning stages – I can embrace it, coexist with it, and forge ahead in learning, because of the strategies I’m going to lay out here.
In this post, I’m going to tell you what I learned doing a series of Rails security exercises developed by Bearclaw, a Rails security consultancy.
Before I go into the exercises, though, I want to send a huge thank you to Ali Najaf, founder of Bearclaw. What I’ve learned here is due to the thoughtfulness of the exercises he’s put together and his willingness to try something new by sharing them with me.
I love that feeling when a new concept starts to come together in your mind and you can point to all the converging sources of insight.
Right now, I can’t tell if I’m fooling myself, hiding some logic, or making my code more readable with this particular concept, but when I put together these three pieces of information, I think I start to see something emerge. I’ve been inspired to do some more digging into these kinds of questions lately thanks to the awesome new Ruby Book Club Podcast.
This is Part 1 in a series on Migrating from Wordpress to Jekyll.
The documentation for getting started with Jekyll is great. I’m not going to rehash everything that’s covered there.
Instead, this post and the others in the series will be more like, “here’s the order I wish I had done things in” or “here’s everything I ended up needing to pull together to get stuff working”. I hope it helps you and saves you time if you ever decide to do a similar migration from a self-hosted Wordpress install to Jekyll.
So here we go….
So, I’ve decided to migrate my Tai Chi site at dankleiman.com from Wordpress to a new static site using Jekyll.
Since I haven’t posted there in almost two years, but I get a steady stream of new subscribers who want to learn about Tai Chi, qigong, and meditation, I thought it would be good to give the 300+ pages and posts a more evergreen feel.
I hate checking my voicemail. I hate the nagging voicemail icon on my phone that won’t be dismissed unless I actually check my voicemail. I hate how listening to a voicemail, capturing relevant information from it, and calling someone back breaks up the normal flow of how I communicate with people all day long: asynchronously, via written communication like email or text.
These days, when I want to talk to someone, we plan a time to talk and that’s fine. But some people still call and leave me a black-box-of-a-voicemail that I have to wade into.
I needed some way to cut voicemail out of my life…so I hooked up a Twilio app to handle it for me.
This week at work, we ran into a slight hiccup with one of our larger third-party data syncs. Without going into too much detail, to fix the issue, we had to carefully reproduce data in various states and test fixes that would transform that data back to the correct state – or for the purpose of this post, I spent a lot of time this week setting things up and waiting for them to run.
Outside of work I’ve been continuing to play with Twilio and this morning, with hours of data prep still in front of me, I stumbled across this article on Sending a Twilio SMS from the Shell.