In Defense of Geeks (Again)

I went to see the fabulous movie The Social Network last Sunday night. I saw the film in Canada (which I like to believe is bedbug free) with a group of 4 friends and our reviews were all positive -- go see the film, it’s great. But after the movie reviews were over a quintessential question emerged: Is Mark Zuckerberg a jerk?

Before we begin the debate: a brief disclaimer: This is not an essay about Mark Zuckerberg the person because I’ve never met him. This is an essay about Mark Zuckerberg the movie character because that dude sat in the back row of my Analysis of Algorithms class, I’ve been on scads of awkward first dates with him, and some days... he is me.

He is not, apparently, my friends (all of whom found him repulsive and annoying). I was shocked because I thought I had mostly self selected a group of super nerds to hang out with. They all work in software, all save one are active Settlers of Catan players. And yet -- Mark haters all of them. It seems that, despite their own geek cred, each had been burned by the surly geek before and was ready to banish him from their lives. As I pondered how my friends were not like me it slowly became clear that back in 1993 I was the only true nerd of the group. All of them had dates for prom, one was a cheerleader, even the most nerd-core among the bunch had to admit that she was a bit of a campus queen in high school. There is no chance that any of these people would have talked to me in 9th grade. For my friends, and for everyone out there who thinks Mark Zuckerberg is a huge asshole, welcome to another edition of what is basically an ongoing series on this blog defending the geeks of the world.

When you’re a smart eight year old and everyone is mean to you at soccer practice your dad will tell you to forget about those kids because you’re so much smarter then them. One day, they’ll see. If you’re anything like me this little grain of pride and spite can sustain you through being pants-ed in the cafeteria, cystic acne, and a Homecoming dance where all of your friends refused to hang out with you because you arrived dateless. But even for the most patient geek waiting for fate to deliver on the “I’ll Show Them!” promise can be tedious.

Enter the young Zuckerberg. He’s annoying. He’s awkward. He’s bitter. But this nerd is not messing around waiting for fate to prove his tormentors wrong. He’s making things happen. He’s doing the geek equivalent of kicking ass and taking names. Mark Zuckerberg is the Terminator of computer hacking and the Robocop of staying up all night drinking Jolt Cola and laying down punishing lines of C++. Action heroes have never spoken to me but I think what I felt while watching The Social Network was the same catharsis that others find in exploding cars and sniper fire. The good guys were winning and they had no shame.

Yes, Mark is kind of a jerk. We never see a young Zuckerberg in 7th grade getting tossed into a locker but I don’t think it’s overly presumptuous to assume that taking his share of noogies and wedgies is at least partially responsible for his persistent attitude problem. I also don’t need to see him lying on a shrink’s couch to accept the implied Asperger’s Syndrome diagnosis. I’m not at all surprised that the smart kid was tormented to the point of feeling a need to prove his self worth. I’m glad his weapon of choice was lines of code and not a gun. Despite his abrasive exterior I can’t bring myself to dislike Mark in the role of rags to riches geek superhero.

(Incidentally while I can’t bring myself to hate Zuckerberg I can almost bring myself to hate Sean Parker. But not totally, because even if he is the jerk that the movie makes him out to be he’s still a smart jerk and he’s still right -- he brought down the (evil) record industry. He also won by somehow convincing studio heads to cast Justin Timberlake to play him despite the fact that no one has ever accused Parker of bringing sexy back, not even a nerd fetishist like myself.)

Can anyone really blame a guy for screwing the Winklevie of the world? They’re not only good looking, popular and arrogant but they’re rich! Isn’t screwing them every geek’s dream? It has certainly been mine. There are a lot of stupid jerks in positions of power many of whom have prospered by hiding their idiocy and mean-spirtedness behind toothy grins and firm handshakes. As a former geek who somehow managed to (mostly?) grow out of her awkward stage I wouldn’t mind cutting some slack to the smart jerks (especially the smart jerks with a genetic disorder that at least partially accounts for their jerkiness).

The other day I received the following blog comment (on this post): “You are an idiot and your blog is sooo boring and shows you are not so smart but think you are because you like computers and ironic t-shirts.” It’s true. I think I’m so smart. And sometimes I think this excuses me from being a jerk. Just like Mark Zuckerberg seems to think that being smart and successful somehow excuses him from being a complete asshole to his friend Eduardo. Obviously, we’re both wrong. I think the most revealing scene in The Social Network is when Eduardo’s lawyer tries to make a point about the $18,000 plus an additional $1000 that Eduardo had invested in The Facebook after which Mark makes a huge todo out of checking this simple math. Mark can only see the lawyer as a tormentor and his only tool for dealing with a tormentor is to make a show of just how smart he is and how stupid she is. The scene is funny because for a moment it feels like this is another instance of the geeks winning. The scene is sad because Mark can’t hold back his flippant response even if it means further distancing himself from his only friend.

There are a lot of reason why I didn’t grow up to be Mark Zuckerberg. Firstly, I’m not smart enough. Most importantly I don’t have Asperger’s Syndrome. And I’m also not 19 years old anymore, neither is Mark. Perhaps we were both huge jerks at the end of adolescence but hopefully adulthood will let us set aside our bitterness and find sympathy for our tormentors (both real and perceived). Hopefully, as adults, we’ll overcome the disorder or personality trait that keeps us from expressing gratitude and love. After all, we won. We have cool jobs, we go on fabulous trips, we can do lots of complicated math problems. Hopefully we’re both much happier than we were freshman year of college.There’s not much to be gained by being a sore winner.

Geekery: Budgeting for South East Asia

Remember when I said that we'd be doing our tour of South East Asia at a cost of $70/day (for 2 people!)? Remember when you thought, "That's insanely cheap, there is simply no way that is possible."? Remember when I proved you wrong? No? Well get ready because the data is right here!

Picture it: the waves lapping at the shore, the sun sinking into the South China Sea, a brightly colored drink in a pretty glass adorned with an orchid, half naked children running like mutant 2 legged crabs through the surf, a stray dog shoving his head into your crotch...the tip tap tip tap of fingers on keyboard, a beautiful color-coaded spread sheet. You can take the manager out of the project but you can't take the project manager out of the girl.

Much to Geoff's constant annoyance I spent some small amount of each day in paradise entering our expenditures into a Google spreadsheet so that I could hopefully come home to the wonderful fun of proving myself right. I also spent a similar amount of time each day raising my eyebrows and quietly fuming when Geoff ordered a second gin and tonic because how will we ever stay on budget if you insist on $6 in cocktails every day? (Of course, I have to acknowledge that it was either $6 in cocktail costs or considerably more in hospital fees from when he eventually broke down and strangled my OCD, penny-pinching ass -- so really gin was the more budget friendly option).

Before we get into the exciting data, a few caveats. There are for sure errors in my data and I have this fear that some crazy internet person is going to comb through it and email me copious notes about all of my mistakes. This is obviously a paranoid fantasy because while there are FOR SURE tons of crazy people on the internet who would do this, I am almost positive that I have yet to attract enough internet stalkers to have to worry about the crazies coming after me just yet. I only wish I was popular enough to have to worry about someone (or even multiple someones) OCD-ing it up on my lunch costs. But just in case, let me state that there are errors in this data. This is because I often didn't have access to wifi and thus was unmotivated to touch the computer (You mean I won't be able to read about funny cats? I'm out.). This is also because even though I sometimes like to pretend that I have a super-human memory, I still forget things. This is also because sometimes I cheated. Here is a list of ways that I totally cheated on the budget:

• I did not include flight costs. It is totally possible to recreate our trip using only buses and thus spending WAY less money but sometimes when you're on an overnight bus ride listening to the horn that the driver leans on once a minute as if to scream, "Wake up whitey, you're about to die!" You remember that you can totally afford a $50 plane ticket and that while, yes, this will totally screw the budget it might make up for that sin with a night of sleep and not being dead on the side of a highway in Vietnam.
• I did not include souvenir or gift costs so my firends and family may never know exactly how cheap knock off tshirts are in Bangkok.
• I did not include the cost of our scuba diving course because even though scuba diving in Thailand is shockingly cheap (we paid $278.43 each for the four day certification course with 4 dives) it cannot be done for $35/day/person and we had pre-approved that particular out of budget splurge. The budget and I thoroughly enjoyed the 4 days of free hotel room that came with the course.
• For the last 13 days of our trip I threw the budget out the window. These days were by far the most expensive on our trip. We lived it up in hotels built for very discerning Japanese business men and/or families of Germans. We drank singapore slings made with top shelf gin. We took taxis because we were too lazy (and fancy) for public transit. Sometimes we got into a tuktuk without even arguing about the price which means we paid 5 times more then we needed to and we didn't even care. We were the Mr. Howel and Lovey of Thailand and it was grand. Geoff wanted to continue recording the budget during these days of excess just for the hilarious comparison factor but I had to insist that we not do this because when the budget is in play I simply cannot stop thinking about how much more awesome the data would look if I just had one less mai tai, one less foot massage, one less bag of cookies from the mini bar -- and really, who wants to live like that?

Ok, enough blathering on to the data!

Days In Budget: 71

Hotel: $1,165.38

Food + Drink: $2,229.07

Travel: $604.71

Visas: $225.00

Tourism: $640.54

Local Transport: $361.03

Total Spent: $5,302.14

Daily Average: $74.68

Ok, so obviously we went over budget. It is difficult (nay, impossible) for me to type that sentence without following it up with a list of excuses which is exactly what I will do in just a moment here but first I will own it. We went over budget. That's ok.

Because, you see, we didn't have to. We could have quite easily stayed on budget. There are scores of days (46 to be exact) in my little spreadsheet that are happily under budget. There is even one day (February 17th) where we spent $25.15 -- thanks in part to that free hotel room that we got from our scuba class but mostly to the fact that sitting on the beach don't cost a thing. The problem was that when we went over budget we partied like Scrooge McDuck (if Mr. McDuck had been partying in Asia and if, instead of a pool full of gold coins, he had a really awesome tour of the Vietnam countryside followed by 3 cocktails OR a fancy sleeping car for his 12 hour train ride OR some sweet Laos visas). What I'm saying is that when we figured that we were going over budget anyway we seemed to say "well the diet is screwed for today, might as well eat an entire cheesecake." (This is an attitude that I have also employed in a less metaphorical way with actual cheesecakes and actual diets). Our most expensive day in Asia (3/8/2010) was a major blow out -- $198.50 -- we went on a tour of Angkor Wat which not only meant playing for a tour guide ($27) but also going to breakfast and dinner at the pricey establishments that our tour guide is getting kick backs to drop us off at, but more important than all that (which alone would have resulted in a $85.50 day) we bought our Vietnam Visas which (including delivery fees) cost a whopping $113.

In addition to the pain of Visa costs which made us consider looking into boarder crossing coyote services we spent a lot on getting from one place to another. For a while I even considered pulling all travel costs out of the budget since they were painfully expensive and since after a few Biere La Rues it was easy to convince yourself that travel wasn't part of a daily budget! And of course, there was the cheating. If we're not going to count flights why count pricey train rides or even cheap bus tickets?

I would also like to not count all of Cambodia. You'd think hotel rooms with bathroom walls that don't extend to the ceiling and towns covered with a thin layer of garbage would, if nothing else, be easy on the wallet but NOT SO! Since the country is much poorer then Thailand or Vietnam (Source) we kind of expected to live like kings -- but this was not to be. Part of the problem is that we spent a lot of time in Siem Reap visiting Angkor Wat and the surrounding ruins which are swarming with westerners and thus very expensive (ok, comparatively expensive... our average per day cost in Siem Reap was $81.92 which wouldn't even come close to covering our estimated cost of a night in our very own Brooklyn apartment (~$91)). The other part of the problem is that Cambodia is just hard and Geoff and I are comforted by the fancy. After a day of mourning the deaths of the past and turning away the legions of poor children we felt like we deserved some AC and our own bathroom. (Better people would probably feel like they too could do without but we are not better people).

Conversely we had been warned by many a traveler that Vietnam would be pricey but somehow it was by far our cheapest destination (possibly because we both would happily live off of $.50 Ban Mis made by an old lady on a scummy street corner). We scored in the north by visiting Hanoi and Halong Bay during the low season (downside: too cold to swim, upside: $6 rooms, uncrowded waters and not getting eaten by giant jellyfish). As far as I can tell the rest of the country is just always cheap. Our average hotel cost in Vietnam was $15.16 (compared to a trip-wide average of $17.66) and the hotels were markedly nicer than those in other countries -- we had AC, hot showers, complete bathroom walls, balconies AND CNN international! Over 22 days we had 24 meals that cost under $5. One day in Hue we had lunch for $.78 -- granted it was pho and coffee eaten while seated on a dirty curb but STILL! If you wanna live like a king Vietnam is highly recommended.

Ok, enough. I could continue to entertain you with the minutia of cost of traveling in South East Asia but I suspect that there are no readers left down here at the bottom of the page. If you're planning a trip of your own or if you're one of those elusive Random Access Babble super fans I'll happily (if a little wearily) send you a copy of the grand spreadsheet, just drop me and email.

South East Asia by the Numbers

• Length of Trip: 89 Days
• Countries Visited: 4 (Thailand, Cambodia, Vietnam, Laos)
  
• Number of Hotels Stayed in: 35
• Cheapest Hotel: Cat Ba Island $6 (comes with free poster of naked lady!)
• Most Expensive Hotel: Lebua Hotel Bangkok $141.95
• Balcony Rooms: 6 (1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6)
• Flights: 8
• Train Trips: 6
• Bus Trips: 19
• Boat Trips: 6
• Approximate Distance Traveled: 33769.38 miles (flights: 29194.41, train: 1262.3, bus:3078.47, boat: 234.2)
• Number of Massages:11
• Cheapest Massage: Blind Massage School, Hue Vietnam $2.60 (includes a generous tip -- base cost $1.82!)
• Most Expensive Massage:$12, Hue Vietnam (some fancy hotel during a back pain emergency)
• New Fruits Eaten (Brianna only): 8 (mangosteen, mariana plum, water apple, vietnamese pomelo, longon, toddy palm fruit, dragonfruit, jackfruit)
• Books Read: 9 (Up in The Air, What I Talk About When I Talk About Running, When you are Engulfed in Flames, Lush Life, Chang and Eng, The Life and Times of the Thunderbolt Kid, Slam, Definitely Dead, Invisible Monsters)
• Pictures Taken (includes videos): 3399
• Amateur Botany Shots: 62
• Buddha Shots: 79
• Food Porn Shots: 104
• Pairs of Shoes Purchased: 6
• Scuba Dives: 4
• Scams Fallen Prey To: 2
• Motorbikes rented: 1
• Seas Swam in: 2 (South China Sea, Andaman Sea)
• Regrets: 0

Buzz? I don't hear a buzz. What buzz?

The deal I made with myself when I left the office Tueday evening was to either fix my computer or write a blog post. Welcome to the lesser of two evils.

I built the computer a few years ago with my bare hands (literally smelt the metal on my cook top...) and it has mostly served me well. Only now it emits this odd buzzing noise which, despite five months of stern looks in the general direction of the half open tower and a bit of prodding at the fans, refuses to abate. I even went so far as to obtain a second tower full of replacement computer parts (though not enough to constitute a whole new computer soldier) and set it next to Tower #1 to represent the threat of war. "Do not mess with me! I can pull your innards out and go all Frankenstein on your ass!" I leered, "Don't think I won't... right after this episode of Best Week Ever is over and I finish shredding 2 months worth of junk mail." But still the buzzing persists (right beneath the satisfying growl of the shredder).

People will claim that I am annoyingly tolerant of any high pitched noises in my living room (Dirty.). My television has a whine that a few times and hour crosses the line between "audible only to dogs" and "dear god why is blood pooling on my shoulder?" Since replacing or, even less surmountable, fixing the TV seems shockingly painful I mostly just dab a Kleenex at the problem and focus on tuning out high frequencies. I excel at avoiding problems that can't be fixed without me committing suicide via sighing in agony so often that I fail to breath.

The computer buzzing highlights three of my most painful personality flaws: I am lazy and shallow with a side order of miserly.

I see my homebuilt computer as the castle where my geek cred lives. I may not program any longer and I may find first person shooters painfully boring and I may roll my eyes at the mere thought of the SCA but dammit I BUILT MY OWN COMPUTER. Give me my geek pin! I would take a moment here to address the irony of putting so much effort into being the antithisis of cool but I think the world (or at least the world of blog readers) has long since accepted that the geeks have inherited the earth. Hail Cthulhu (See? A Cthulhu joke! GEEK!)

In addition to possibly being the last proof I have of my geek nature Tower #1 is the cheapest means to a computer end. I built it (bare hands! gloveless!) in 2002 after a particularly painful experience at a computer parts store where, unsurprisingly, the staff had never actually talked to a girl before. I originally had installed on it a dual boot to Windows or Linux -- this was done entirely in service of geek cred as I used the Linux OS only when some thing broke badly in Windows that I was (shockingly) too lazy too fix right away. The computer occasionally chokes -- the video card has been replaced twice, I stuck in a new hard drive a few years back and upgraded the motherboard in 2005 -- but replacing a broken part is infinity cheaper than buying a new computer (which seems to be what Dell and IBM and Apple expect virtually everyone to do once every 3 years or so).

So Why not fix it? Lazy, remember? Fixing the computer requires knowing what's wrong with the computer and as far as I can tell there is no clear source for the buzz. It's not the fan. It also seems like it's probably not the processor fan -- though it might be... but replacing the processor is a huge pain and... maybe I should just buy a new computer. Later. After I take off my old nail polish and look up recipes for tatsoi and find the album art for every song I have in itunes. And, of course, right after I finish this blog post.

How We Roll In Software Development

While brainstorming team building activities with a coworker the idea of a paper airplane making contest came up which was soon followed by an egg drop and then by this conversation.

Brianna: we should perhaps consider making people carry around a flour baby
Giselle: o yes!
Brianna: so we can all develop sympathy for our coworkers who made the questionable decision to breed.
Brianna: "This week for fun we'll all make dioramas of scenes from books we recently read"
Brianna: and they'll all be like snipets of code
Brianna: all propped up in a shoe box
Giselle: this red string represents ruby on rails
Giselle: and it's heading into the cotton balls
Giselle: they represent the 'web'

Rise

FAQ

1. No I do not snooze
2. No I do not shampoo
3. No I do not make coffee
   

Prithy Good Sir, May I Borrow Your Dragon?

I have a standing lunch date on Tuesdays with a few of my coworkers to play Settlers of Catan. Settlers is, theoretically, a German board game of world domination sort of like Risk or Civilization but the way we play it's mostly an exercise in embracing our nerdiness and mocking our coworkers. At both of these things we excel. And so when, at a party this weekend, it was revealed that 3 of my gamer cohorts have cast such a wide net of love over the world of games that somehow the nerdiest game to ever rise out of the dark depth of junior high has been scooped up for a great big slobbery hug. I speak, of course, of Dungeons and Dragons. This fact alone was plenty fodder for mocking, especially because the three of us with no ties to role playing refused to believe that the D&D afternoons that our friends attended did not include a certain live action element. At the mere mention of the game I conjured up images of cape clad boys wielding paper towel tube swords and yelling at one another in fake old English. "Hark! Prince Aridawn Lord of the Prairie Nymphs Demands an audience with the King of Fawnshire and there better be crumpets!" they shouted. There was some protesting of this imagined version of the game but there were also a number of confessions (I don't think that I need to say that alcohol had obviously been consumed) which supported my theory that the geekery was out of control.

1. Joel has an animal companion, he's a wolf and his name is Night Eyes.
2. Dan rides a magical horse and also owns two magic sword which he has named (god damn the booze for blurring memories badly enough to put remembering the names of horses and swords just out of reach).

And so first thing Monday morning the following all too hilarious emails went out.

Last names have been censored to protect my coworkers who, I assume, would like to someday know the pleasure of a woman (who they did not make up as part of some elaborate fantasy game set in Roman times and who also is not a character on a video game and who also does not ever need to be inflated.)

Email Chain #1

From: Brianna Klemm
Subject: Settlers tomorrow

I can't play tomorrow but provided you guys can manage to organize a meeting without my awesome project management skills perhaps Night Eyes can fill my vacancy.
Bri

From: Joel XXXXXXX
Subject: RE: Settlers tomorrow

And just when I hoped the drunkness would blur that memory out..

From: Jeremy XXXXXXX
Sent: Monday, May 12, 2008 10:52 AM
Subject: RE: Settlers tomorrow

I'm not sure I could drink enough to forget about an animal companion named Night Eyes.

From: Matthew XXXXXXX
Subject: RE: Settlers tomorrow

I wanted so badly to be the first person to drop Night Eyes this morning! Ahhhh! At least I know I am not the only one.

From: Brianna Klemm
Subject: RE: Settlers tomorrow

Can someone please remember the name of Dan's magical horse so we can start working that in as well?

Email Chain #2

From: Jeremy XXXXX
Subject: Puerto Rico Playing (I haven't read all the rules, but it looks like there are no 'Animal Companions', sorry Joel)

Since half of us are feeling especially cool in light of the "Night Eyes" revelation, I think its time for me to try and even the playing field. I have a new game called Puerto Rico that we should try playing. Since we don't know the rules we think we should probably play at a bar after work. Does tomorrow or Wednesday night work?

From: Matthew XXXXXXX
Subject: Re: Puerto Rico Playing (I haven't read all the rules, but it looks like there are no 'Animal Companions', sorry Joel)

I'm a maybe. Are there spells?

Matt

From: Brianna
Subject: Re: Puerto Rico Playing (I haven't read all the rules, but it looks like there are no 'Animal Companions', sorry Joel)

I'm also a Tuesday maybe and a Wednesday no... I would hesitate to suggest this but given the current low level of cool for the group as a whole how does Friday look?

Dan -- let us know if you'll be out gallivanting with Snow Angle the Wonder Pony (don't think that just because you refuse to share your horse's name that you will not be mocked)

From: Daniel XXXXXXX
Subject: Re: Puerto Rico Playing (I haven't read all the rules, but it looks like there are no 'Animal Companions', sorry Joel)

I think you mean "Snow Angel", but nice try.

From: Brianna
Subject: Re: Puerto Rico Playing (I haven't read all the rules, but it looks like there are no 'Animal Companions', sorry Joel)

Really? You think my typo somehow negates you having A MAGIC HORSE? nice try yourself.

From: Daniel XXXXXX
Subject: Re: Puerto Rico Playing (I haven't read all the rules, but it looks like there are no 'Animal Companions', sorry Joel)

Dude, you're a girl. You've always wanted a magic horse. You probably played with magic horse dolls when you were little. You're just jealous that I have one, and you don't.

From: Jeremy XXXXXXX
Subject: RE: Puerto Rico Playing (I haven't read all the rules, but it looks like there are no 'Animal Companions', sorry Joel)

Wow. I think this counts as one of those kamikaze defenses. I believe Dan just equated himself to a little girl that plays with magic horse dolls...

Geeky for Graphs

Last night while lying in bed I started thinking about the topics that I talk about with each of my different friends and, of course, decided that this information must be captured in graph form. It's only natural. The below example pertains to Lisa and I (and makes us seem like the girliest girls to ever squeal with glee at a 50% off Sephora sale) but I assure you that I have already begun creating versions for almost everyone I know. Next step? Merging all graphs and using the data to identify friend subgroups and interesting overlaps. Jealous?

On Being a Girl in the Big Bad World of Software Part 2

To graduate from most California high schools one must accumulate two semesters worth of credits in “Regional Occupational Programs” (ROP). The idea (I think, but this knowledge is entirely based on what I heard in the school hallways at age 16, I tried to do research on the program on the intertubes but my California education didn’t give me the skills to slog through legalize without submitting to sleep.) is that if you take an ROP class every term for all of high school the state will help you find a job after graduation. The reality is that schools require the 2 terms to get the state money associated with the program and McDonalds has a lot of employees with impressive flower arranging skills. The ROP options at my high school were Construction, Auto Mechanics, Floriculture, Secretarial Skills and Computers. I eliminated the first two as too dirty and the next two as pathetically useless and so second semester of my freshman year when my advanced math class conflicted with Drama 2 (the horror) I was left with ROP Computers filling up my 45 minutes post lunch.

I was the only girl enrolled in this class (shocker, I know). In fact I was apparently the only girl to have EVER enrolled in this class. At the time I thought this might have made me a feminist badass but it soon became clear that it only made me an idiot. Surprisingly the class was not made up of all nerds (if only…) but had a heavy representation of senior football players looking to shore up an easy ROP credit before graduation. The teacher was a guy my mom had known during her “I live at the Yosemite rock climbing camp with my hippy boyfriend” days (which took place right before the “I live at a cross country ski lodge with my hippy boyfriend/soon to be husband/father of my children” days) and it turns out he’s a little bit famous. A few years earlier he had suffered a fall while climbing that resulted in him loosing a lot of his hearing – specifically he was unable to hear high frequencies at all. This wasn’t really a problem…until a girl decided to take his class. The first test was an oral exam. This consisted of him asking me a question and me trying to answer it over and over in an increasingly louder (and, ironically, higher pitched…) voice until I started crying. Eventually he gave up and handed me an A-. Luckily the rest of the class was taught by a series of programs that the teacher wrote so that he could spend the class period at his desk reading and pretending that his hearing was so bad that he didn’t even notice that class time was primarily focused on tormenting me.

Everyday I came into the classroom to find my monitor, mouse and keyboard unplugged, this meant I had to crawl under the desk and blindly paw at the back of the machine while simultaneously using my free hand to hold down the back of my skirt so as not to expose my panties to the classroom full of giggling boys. Some jokes are apparently funny over and over again for 4 whole months. This kind of tomfoolery haunted my semester until the boys decided to up their game from mischievous to skeevy. One spring day I came into class and football player #1 says to me, “Hey, Brianna, if we gave you $250 would you take your shirt off? Cause we took a collection.” It is at this moment that I make one of the worst mistakes in my young life – rather than flash some boobage, pocket the cash and donate 25% to NOW (and 75% to the cute skirt fund) I decided to care about “principles” (and not even the right principles! Everyone knows Capitalism>Feminism). So my boobs remained a mystery and my pockets remained empty and the teasing continued through June and women were finally allowed to wear pants and own property and men started birthing babies and getting excited about cute shoes. Please write your thanks you notes on Georgia O’Keefe stationary (and I wouldn’t turn my nose up at pair of sensible shoes).Publish Post

How, after this intro experience to the awesome world of technology, I ended up actually majoring in Computer Science in college I cannot explain but after a few years of hanging out with the boys I’ve mellowed and come to love being the only girl in the room. Sadly no one has ever again offered me money for a boobie show now that I’d be happy to take it (off). Life is unfair.

For reference here’s Part 1.

My Space is in an Old Folks home

I don’t like myspace. I know this is probably because I’m old. While “social networking” seems like an ok idea (I used to be a fan of friendster cause I’m also old school) and I’m the first to jump on internet trends, myspace is a wasteland. The community has moved beyond social networking and into building personal shrines – which wouldn’t be so bad, I’m obviously pro personal shrines (see: this blog), if people didn’t love animated gifs so damn much. As far as I can tell the only smidgeon of good that has come from the myspace craze is irrefutable evidence that most people have awful taste and should not be allowed any creative freedom whatsoever. It is now time to apply this knowledge by taking away access to falling glitter, vulgar animated gifs and (in some extreme cases) text.

I joined myspace a couple of years ago so that I could spy on people from high school (call me a bitch but when I’m having a bad day there is no greater life affirming piece of knowledge than “wow, half my graduating class is still working the same job they had senior year!” I’m positive that this makes me shallow and of questionable moral character but honestly, are you surprised?). I didn’t fill out anything in my profile to ensure that no former classmates could ever feel superior to me. This Christmas I asked my 25 year old brother why he never responds to my emails and he said, “Why can’t you just write to me on myspace? It’s easier.” I chose not to point out that this was in fact, not easier (for me), since it required logging into another website not to mention finding a picture cute enough so that when people from my past find my profile they’ll feel just a little jealous so that at 29 I will be 2 points closer to winning the highschool popularity contest (Vote Brianna for Home coming Queen!). I also resisted pointing out that replying to an email takes exactly the same amount of effort as replying to a myspace message only you get to avoid burning your retinas with electric blue comic sans on a yellow background.

I’ve chosen the road less traveled when it comes to myspace friends – my list includes a select group of people who I actually know. I could be much more popular. I get about 4 myspace friend requests per week, almost all of these are from people who are decidedly not my friends. Apparently much of generation Y is confused about the concept of friends. Friends are people who know you in real life where half of the time you look like a white trash circus clown and still choose to invite you to their theme parties because no costume beats “white trash circus clown.” Friends happily eat anything you cook even if you’re in willful denial about which vegetables they supposedly hate. When you’re really hung over friends will walk a mile in 30 degree weather to bring you a bottle of Gatorade even though there is a mini mart across the street from your house (are you listening AMY?). Friends do not expect you to read about their favorite salad dressing or their most awesome high school memory. Friends know that there are better ways to waste time at work. Below are a few examples of ways that we might know each other which do not indicate that our relationship should be described using the world “friend.”

• You saw my picture, thought I was hot

• We were in the same world history class in 1994

Myspace also seems set on showing me awful things that I cannot unknow. Some key examples:

• My 40 year old cousin has a friend who thinks it perfectly acceptable to wear a completely see through tank top provided it has two strategically placed sequined stars.

• My brother seems to have a very unhealthy liking for the movie Cars and thinks that a huge picture of the tow truck character makes an awesome background.

• The girl who was my freshman sister my senior year in high school has TWO children.

No good can come from this.

Random Wants 2

While browsing at Barnes and Nobel yesterday I ran across this book and immediately fell in love with author Garth Sundem (aka the smartest man on earth). This book contains equations for determining all of the following and more:

• Do I have a snowballs chance in hell?
• Should I become intimate with a coworker?
• Should I call in sick to work?

Those of you lucky enough to hear me whine about my personal problems know that finding a mathematical equation to provide answers is my ultimate dream. Out of a desire not to appear to my shopping companion like the biggest dork ever (though he probably suspected this when I started heavily pushing the book on cod) I did not purchase this book yesterday but I have added it to my Amazon wishlist (hint hint ;)).

On Being a Girl in the Big Bad World of Software

A few years ago when I was still living in San Francisco and still billing myself as a programmer I went on the best interview ever. I have chosen not to name the company in this post because I love nerds and have no desire to embarrass them on this very popular blog but I am not so nice as to refuse to identify them verbally – so if you really care, ask me.

I was only at the interview for 10 minutes before it became clear that the decision to interview me went something like this:

Dork #1 (making announcement over office intercom): Dudes! CODE PINK!!! I just got a resume for that open programmer position and I think it might be from a girl!

(Dorks 2-6 rush to the desk of Dork #1)

Dork #1 (pointing to computer screen): See? “Brianna” that ends in an “A” and in our culture ending a name in an “A” almost always indicates that the person totally will have boobs someday OR might already have boobs right this very moment!

Dork #4 (in a badly affected English accent): By George I think he’s right!

Dork #5 (in an electronic voice): female programmer… does not compute.

Dork #1: Dudes. I don’t want to get over excited here but…. she might have other friends who are also girls.

Dork #2: CALL HER!

I do not recall noticing heavy breath during my brief phone screen for this job so I commend the boys for learning how to mute their phones.

Dressing for programmer interviews on the west coast as a girl is a challenge – if you’re a boy you can wear khakis and a dress shirt but there is really no flattering equivalent for females. You cannot wear a suit because the people who interview you will be wearing flip flops and that kind of huge disparity between the dress level of interviewer and interviewee can only lead to bad things. For this interview I choose to wear a burgundy tank dress with a white button down underneath (yeah, it probably is as bad as it sounds). I arrived at the interview site and was greeted by five very eager young men. I was not asked any programming questions. I was instead engaged in the following conversations:

Conversation 1

Dork #6 (arriving late to meeting wearing jeans with a 6inch rip at the left knee, a black thermal shirt and (I am not kidding) a bike chain with a clothes pin attached to it as a necklace): Hey, I’m [Dork #6]

Female Dork (aka me): Hi, it’s nice to meet you

Dork #6: Is this how you’d typically dress for work?

Bri: Well you seem to have a rather casual atmosphere so probably not.

Dork #6: Like that would you normally wear?

Bri: ummm jeans? And a shirt…

Conversation 2

Dork #1: Do you drink?

Bri: ummm occasionally

Dork #1: Ok, let me be more specific – If we were making margaritas in the office would you have one?

Bri: Yeah

Dork #2: Let’s say that we were going out to a bar after work – would you come with us?

Bri: Sure

Dork #3: Do you like E?

Bri: ummmm…. I don’t really do any drugs so….

Dorks 1,2,3,5,6: hahahahahaha

Dork #3: [Dork #4] likes going to raves, he was hoping you’d go with him sometime.

Shockingly I did not get this job – I do not know if I should blame my conservative dress (Thanks Laura Ashley!) or my lack of experience with recreational drugs. Perhaps upper management stepped in and rejected me in an effort to avoid the sexual harassment lawsuit that was sure to result from letting a girl into the shire.