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emmanation

You like me! Of course, you probably don't know me very well.

Archive for the ‘girl geek’ Category

instagram

Wednesday, June 21st, 2017

Instagram vs Snapchat.

One of my very bestest friends is an avid snapper, and I was trying to put my finger on why I don’t snap now but I am all over insta like a … a … well, someone who posts a lot on insta.

I do post a lot, especially lately. I mean, I don’t know what a LOT a lot is, but I post two or three times a day most days. Is that a lot (she asks as if she wants reassurance but she really doesn’t)?

I guess I think of insta like a diary. Facebook used to be a diary. For example, six years ago today on Facebook I posted the status ‘iPad, check. Toothbrush, check. Camera… SHIT.’ Obviously I was going somewhere (sailing I think), and I forgot my camera! That’s a fun tiny blurb, yes? No? Yes. But Facebook is mostly for pictures and sharing political links now (and it’s dead, right? Let’s all agree. It’s basically dead. Our grandparents are on it and we are parents of people who are also on it. It’s Main St USA and no one actually thinks it’s cool to be on Main St.)

The thing about Instagram is: it stays and pictures are unambiguous. Filtered, yes, but if you were with someone or not with someone or home or in Portland, that’s permanently represented.

The thing about Snapchat is: it goes away.

I get the appeal of that, but I also feel like it’s part of the issue about space women are constantly struggling with. When you snap, you’re putting something into the world that says ‘heeeeeyyyy guys here’s a thing if you wanna look at it but if you don’t don’t worry it’ll be gone pretty soon so don’t worry about it if you don’t want to ’cause …. yeah anyway thanks byyyeeee’.

I could be wrong. It could (always) be my personal awareness of taking up space in the world. I’m a woman who, despite her best intentions, worries endlessly about the effect my very presence has on other people. Am I too loud? Is my skirt too distracting? Am I talking more than I should?  Does my new tree bug my neighbors? Does my new shampoo smell? It’s tiring, and Snapchat is a relaxing way to show people things. It’s easy to think ‘oh no one has to see this if they don’t want to’. However, by that same measure, Snapchat doesn’t tell any kind of story about you or your life.

So Instagram. Insta is the diary-est of all the available diaries.

(Excepting a blog but WHO BLOGS ANYMORE?)

So, Instagram. People can opt into you without you doing the same and vice versa. Everyone loves a sunset and dogs and yoga, which makes it feel like a wonderful place to *also* love all those things. You’re easy to scroll over, but also anyone who cares can roll back through months or years of what you’ve been up to, and you can too.

None of this touches on the overwhelming desire to share in the first place, of course. I’m always aware of what the perception of my pictures might be, and I’m open to it. This blog is over a decade old – I’m a committed sharer and the reasons are between my and my psyche.

I just … want to leave a mark.

God I’m old.

But still cute. You can confirm on my insta.

ice cold I roll my eyes at you boy

Tuesday, June 6th, 2017

Picking songs that other people are going to listen to is VERY STRESSFUL.

Like, I think I have good taste in music, but literally no one doesn’t think that about themselves. If they thought what they liked didn’t show good taste, it would thoroughly undermine the entire concept of good taste and that would be the nucleus from which the end of the world sprouted. (No? Are you sure? Like, double check quantum physics and get back to me. I don’t fully understand quantum physics but I went to an engineering school and am pretty sure someone there told me once you could use them to explain any damn thing you wanted, and this is the quantum-music-taste hill I’m going to die on.)

When I was in Portland with my little brother last weekend we had a whole app based youtube queue set up on his chromecast (<- today in sentences Emma from ten years ago would think were gibberish).  We were all adding, and it was skewing rap heavy because that’s mostly what he and his friends listen to. I could have backed off and let it happen, but I wanted to contribute and also not to listen to rap for four hours.

(I don’t dislike rap but I have a hard time staying engaged when there’s not a through melody. Like, I’m a huge Childish Gambino fan, but my brother hates him… I guess he’s intro rap? Because … of the melody? I know it’s shocking, but this is NOT something we covered in engineering school. All your preconceptions blown, right? Right.)

My approach was either great song or great video. I went retro a couple of times (Leave the Biker), full on pandering at least twice (see Lana del Ray and the Jenny Lewis video with Anne Hathaway and Kristen Stewart (a combo that surprisingly fills the needs of most people who like girls? Can I get an amen?)), and I’m not embarrassed to admit I appealed to my brother with people we’ve seen together.

That is way too much thought.

Literally, what is the worst thing that could have happened? That my brother’s friends didn’t think I was cool? I’m his older sister – they were pretty decided on the coolness of me long before now. (Probably I won some of them over when I looked super fly in a suit as his best man a few years ago.)

These are phases I go through. It’s like I’m scared, sometimes, to take up too much room in the world. To make someone do literally anything that’s not exactly what they had planned.

Probably I need to switch over to some Blondie. Some Tegan and Sarah. Some Tove Lo. Sometimes it’s ok to play your own song.

 

let’s drink and watch: The Bachelor Episode 1

Friday, January 8th, 2016

There are some women down the hall from me at work, and they asked if I wanted to join a Bachelor bracket with them. I dig my immediate team, but … also I would like some super fun lady friends. So, for the very first time, I am watching the Bachelor. Ben (he himself) is from Denver, who knew. Anyway, I have sparkling wine and I paid Hulu extra monies so I wouldn’t have to watch commercials which REALLY works out in a show like this. Let’s go, people. 

Caila knew she had to dump her man after seeing ben on the bachelorette WHAT. We are off to a these-are-not-reasonable-people start.

Jubilee says ‘I’m on a mission to win Ben’s heart’ and she obviously thought it was the dumbest thing to say in the world. I’m guessing she was picturing her military friends watching this and internally cringing.
No one, Mandi. No one wants to be like everybody else. You’re SO UNIQUE, no one else has ever even wondered who wants to be like everyone else.
TWINS EVIL. Watch a horror movie sometime, Ben.
Wtf is a chicken enthusiast and why do you refer to them as your human babies, Tiara, do you know what humans are?
Ok I know I’ve had 20 chances to find this out, but do they all say something cheesy when they get out of the limo?
Oh a dick joke, that is super risky. That’d be me, and I’d currently be like ‘what the fuck was I thinking?’
Girl who didn’t tell him your name, he’s now thinking of you as ‘online stalker’, so .. whoops.
And also speak a language that Ben knows, it’s weird to force someone to not understand you.
DON’T TALK ABOUT THE OTHER GIRLS BOOBS oh my god I’m not going to be able to watch this show am I.
Ben was just visibly aroused by the twins which, chill your baloney, pony (which is something I say to Deaner when he’s getting all worked up, it’s not a dick reference)
MINIPONY. Awww, bye bye Lil Sebastian.
It’s weird how much I expected Ben to be freaked out by the woman who brought a save the date card. He’s literally there to find a wife. The patriarchy is in maaaaah head.
Oh I read about this host guy! He’s recently divorced and also looking for love, I guess? I wonder if he gets to chat with the ladies when Ben is otherwise engaged – he looks like he’s in his forties or fifties though so perhaps young women aren’t his thing.
I wanna be friends with Lace. I feel like that means she’s going to get kicked off.
BEN IS CALLING HIS DAD. If true, man, hugs to that guy. If staged, hugs to whoever had this idea, because it’s goddamn adorable.

If you quit your job to go on the Bachelor, you’re effectively saying that being his wife will be your job. Maybe he’s into that, maybe he ain’t, but … it doesn’t really bode well for thinking through your choices, maybe? Or maybe her job was fucking terrible, we don’t know her life. (Edited to add, she got the first rose so perhaps he’s into hiring a wifey.)

Oh Laces (which is what I would call Lace if we were friends), I think you maybe need to think about dating somewhere that isn’t TV. This doesn’t seem to be the best thing for your stability. Not that I think you’re unstable, just, stuff is hard, and processing it on TV seems even harder. Or you’re a little drunk? Or possibly both.
I wish the website had said that whats-er-face liked to be called Red Velvet. I would have picked my bracket differently. (Full disclosure, I don’t remember who was in my bracket or where, I’ll have to check tomorrow.)
Whoever had Ben call his dad also just suggested he say these women are out of his league. I hope that person is being well paid (or is Ben, I guess).
Giving out this many roses takes many times.
Crockett just got home and is asking me a lot of questions that are super good that I don’t know the answer to. Like, have there been twins before?
Laurens, there are four of you. One of you is going home.
LACES HONEY you got a rose.
Crockett thinks it’s for the best that Red Velvet did not get a rose, since Ben would just be guaranteeing himself a moment where he holds her hand as she dies of melanoma. Crockett is mean but also funny.
Success rate: I have no idea. I think I might have called one of the cancelled ladies, maybe, I’ll check tomorrow. Only …. twenty-four episodes to go? I have no idea. This is going to be awesome.
*Those two women who showed up in the middle and upset everyone are a mystery to me and I have no comment.

STARWARSSPOILERSGOAWAYIFYOU…

Tuesday, December 29th, 2015

You know. I’m not kidding, here, people. Two steps back if you don’t want things ruined. (DAD THIS MEANS YOU. Call me, we’ll go see it, THEN you can read this post.)

Ok, first and most brilliantly of me:

When Adam Driver took his helmet off (what, halfway through the flick?) I started laughing and couldn’t stop. I’m not sure what it was about his Kleenex-you-took-out-of-the-box-for-a-sneeze-but-then-forgot-about-when-you-didn’t-sneeze-so-you-just-left-it-and-it-got-all-dusty face that did it, but it just brought it out in me. Fortunately I had Crockett on one side of me and one of the theater’s only empty seats on the other, so I didn’t wildly anger anyone who was able to make eye contact with me.

Literally could not stop laughing, you guys. I had to pull my hat down over my eyes so I couldn’t see him just to calm down. You know how when someone has been tickling you, and then they wave their fingers in the general direction of your foot or armpit or whatever, and you laugh because you just can’t help it, even though your stomach muscles hurt from the laughing and they’re not even touching you? It was like that, except the tickling was Adam Driver’s stupid fucking child-making-a-bust-and-only-has-white-playdoh-left face trying to pretend he was HAN SOLO’S KID.

I digress.

Oh, wait, one more thing on that note: Crockett has been saying things like “Hannah, what are you talking about?” in the Kylo Ren voice and it slays me every goddamn time. Girls and Star Wars are two franchises that are not actor compatible, is what I’m saying. (I just had to google Adam Driver to remember that it was Kylo Ren and not Rilo Ken (Jenny Lewis, shades of) and again I started laughing. His face is just the everlasting WORST.)

We went to the flick on Christmas morning, with Crockett’s fam – mom, dad, brother, sis-in-law, nephews, and niece, and I think that was 100% the right way to do it. Everyone from brother on even got Star Wars shirts for Christmas! There was appropriate kid excitement, good camaraderie, I don’t know. The whole thing was super. Except that some of the pre-preview commercials were, um, not particularly child appropriate, which was weird. Like, guys, it’s STAR WARS. There will be kids. Maybe Cutty from House and the slobby guy from Private Practice banging in a car is best for a different audience?

So.

I’m not going to do a recap or anything, because if you’ve gotten this far, you’ve seen it or you’re a glutton for punishment. Instead, I have three critical questions.

  1. WHEN did Leia know that Han died? No one told her when it happened, and yet we cut to a scene of her crying. The pilots (hey, Poe, call me. I’m engaged and you’re fictional and look a lot like my fiance, so that should work out nicely) didn’t have info on what was going on in the … octagon thing. I asked Crockett and he said she knew immediately because she has the force. I asked my mom and she said it’s because Leia loved Han. Crockett, mom: I love you guys but those are stupid answers. Leia was surprised to see Han when she saw him on the tinyglasseslady’s planet, she doesn’t psychically sense him. She’s a general now, she gives orders, she doesn’t listen to wavelengths or whatever. I think someone told her and I think it was Chewbacca – she slipped him an ear peanut thingy (wow it has been a long day … you know, those little things? The little earphone microphone things? Am I wrong in believing those even have a name?) and he told her. Feel free to correct me as long as your answer is better than mom’s or Crockett’s.
  2. WHO is Rey? (Yeah, yeah, me and everyone else. I’m going with Luke’s daughter, but then WHO is Rey’s mama?)
  3. WAS (who what when where was, that’s how it goes) Carrie Fisher being filmed with a Barbara Walters interview lens? You know, the one with a little bit of Vaseline on it?

I’m going to go see it again, and this time I’m going to take blacked out glasses to put on when Adam Driver is onscreen. That way I miss the Solo tragedy AND and won’t be removed from the story by his if-he-were-on-GOT-we’d-assume-he-was-inbred face.

EDITED TO ADD: I just saw Carrie Fisher tweeted about people being mean about her aging, and I want to be clear. She is the best. While she is obviously super hot, she also has a dog named GARY FISHER and he has his own Instagram. My comment re her filming was not a dig at her at ALL but a legitimate question regarding the fuzziness of the screen when she was on it, it felt like. She’s lovely and I love her and would invite her to dinner with Tiny Fey and Amy Poehler and Regina Spektor and a) I would be the ugliest woman in the room and b) I would die damn happy.

exterminate

Tuesday, December 15th, 2015

The thing about not writing for awhile is feeling like when you start up again, the subject either has to be momentous or explanatory.

So, like, I could have gone with getting engaged (whoop whoop!) as my momentous news, and then eased back into the day to day. But instead I dropped it like a … small subtle thing that you drop? and then stopped again. I also could have gone with our engagement as the explanation for the lack of blogging, but we haven’t set a date yet, much less started doing any work that actually takes any time, so that’d be easily disproved bullshit.

So then you don’t write, and then you’re in the habit of not writing, and that’s much easier than being in the habit of writing.

But every so often, when I’m not writing, something happens that makes me feel like doing it. Tonight, that thing was watching Doctor Who while reading the AV Club Doctor Who coverage.

Because, well. Doctor Who because obviously, Jessica Jones (and because the 10th Doctor is THE Doctor fight me and if you have shit to say about Rose fight me twice). The AV Club because their television writing is just fucking brilliant.

So I think to myself, well, I want to watch TV and write about it, but I don’t really! Mostly because that would involve watching NEW things, and for some reason I prefer my television intake to be about 80% rewatching.

For example, The Man in The High Castle is available and super fun, at least in the whole ‘it’s like the real world only worse in tiny interesting ways’ way. Like the Nazi themed kids magazine Crockett pointed out, Ranger Reich.  The AV Club has fun coverage that hits on the interesting points, ties in past things we might have missed, and bring up watchers gossip. It’s helpful if you love the show and fun even if you don’t. Like very liberal Cliff Notes, sort of.

Crockett hopped a couple of episodes ahead of me while I was finishing NaNoWriMo, and I promised him I’d catch up before we went out of town last week.

And then I watched all of Psych and the 9th Doctor’s season instead. (The 9th Doctor is acceptable. Matt Smith has no place in my heart or this blog.)

I seriously couldn’t help myself.

Crockett and I have very few shows that we watch together, so when we find one we stick with it (because sometimes you want to both point your faces at the tv and do nothing else at all). Add that to the fact that I like The Man in the High Castle, and this should have been a smash hit! (I like the hair and costumes, at the very least, and that pulled me through a whole damn season of Smash, speaking of.) I just couldn’t make myself do it, somehow.

I have two theories. The first is that it’s not the simplest show, and it requires actual focus while watching. I use TV more as company, while I’m doing chores, and rewatching means I can leave the room without pausing or whatever. (I’m suddenly struck by the idea that I’ve written about this before? If so, sorry!)

The second is that I hate new things, like a cranky old lady.

Fifty fifty, I think.

So, momentous: I have watched more than 100 hours of television in the last two or three weeks. Explanatory: same same. Kicker: none were The Man in the High Castle.

P.S. Is Hitler the man, does anyone know? I’m obviously not going to watch, so you can just tell me. I won’t tell Crockett, promise.