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emmanation

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

Archive for the ‘girl geek’ Category

yes privilege I know

Monday, January 26th, 2015

I had a really nice iPhone 5s and I broke it.

Well, clarification, I had a normal 5s. There was nothing particularly nice about it except that all 5s’s are nice. Either way, I broke it. I was at The Post with a darlin friend and I held it up and somehow (cough*beers*cough) I dropped it from the barstool I was sitting on flat onto the concrete patio floor below. The screen shattered. It was an ugly moment. I may have blamed the girlfriend I was with because she may have asked to see the phone – that part is unclear and has likely been exaggerated in my head every time I looked at my shattered screen, but who can say for sure?

I still have that 5s but it is no longer really nice. Or normal. See, I thought it was a good idea to replace the screen myself. Which, to be fair, with my coworker’s help, it totally was. It costs upwards of $175 to get the screen replaced on a 5s by a professional, did you guys know that? Possibly because of the fingerprint thing? Dunno. You can buy a screen, and the tiny screwdriver that apparently exists for no purpose other than removing iPhone screen screws, for like $50, and there are instructions online.

It turns out that the instructions leave a lot to be desired and the tiny screws that are removed by the tiny screwdriver are very easily lost. My very kind coworker and I replaced the screen really adequately! We used my tiny fingers to hold things in place and her smart fingers to actually do the work and it was an excellent division of labor. No matter what we tried, though, we couldn’t get the screen to load afterwards. I took the phone to a professional who shifted one tiny thing, told me I was super close, didn’t charge me, and handed me a functional phone.

A functional phone missing a single screw. A screw that I’d taken out and put somewhere for safekeeping. Somewhere so safe I still haven’t found it.

Turns out it was an important screw.

This is a very long way of telling you that I HAVE A NEW PHONE. It’s a 6 and it’s very pretty and my tiny fingers will perhaps eventually get used to the size?  However, I’m thinking of making a rule that I’m not allowed to touch the phone at bars. At least while I’m drinking? Or over concrete floors? The details are still up in the air, I’m open to suggestions.

Please be aware that if you currently receive intermittent hilarious texts from me after 8 pm on Friday or Saturday nights, any rule you put in place may curtail that.

 

dot deepcrotchedpant

Wednesday, January 7th, 2015

Did you guys know you can get a bunch of new websites now? Like, where there used to be .com and .org and .biz there are a million billion choices?

Some I could buy:

  • emmanations.kitchen
  • emmas.webcam (aahahahahah no)
  • distinguished.expert (hat tip to Crockett for finding this one)
  • … something … .cash. What? I can’t think of what’s funny to follow up with cash but I think there must be lots and lots of choices.
  • maidaandagnes.exposed (where I would put the doggie cam feed so I could watch them when I’m not home, obviously)
  • emmas.life
  • emmas.website
  • emmaisa.ceo (like, who wouldn’t hire me if I were looking for a job which I’m not because I still love my job but if I were who wouldn’t hire me with a website like that, huh?)

I’m sure this is actually the bottom of the barrel, because for some reason urls aren’t a medium I’m really finding my groove in. It’s almost like I’m going to be thirty four in ten days and am too old for this.

WINK.

Anyway. If someone is super tempted by maidaandagnes.exposed, then at least leave me agnesandmaida.exposed, all right? It doesn’t have the same ring to it but, you know. Sloppy seconds or something. Whatever.

well I think YOU GUYS are two metals. gold medals.

Monday, December 29th, 2014

The office has been very, very deserted since before Christmas.

First, it was fun. I got there one morning and while there were a few cars in the parking lot, none of the lights on the second floor were on and no one was making any noise. (I did actually see a box of donuts that smelled vaguely of donuts which probably means they were fresh donuts, right? Day old donuts are not known for their enticing smell. I guess I could have checked.

Man, what if those donuts were a present from some kind of donut fairy for the first person to arrive on the second floor?

What if all day long, everyone assumed the donuts belonged to someone else and the WHOLE TIME they were my donuts?)

By today it was a little boring. My work bestie Coastie has been there the whole time but that’s kind of like going to an empty restaurant with your boyfriend. Like, yeah, you’re with someone you like and you’re going to have a good time but you should be having MORE interaction. Otherwise you could be on your couch. My simile is breaking down pretty rapidly.

Or not, because today I did end up on my couch after lunch, because the magic of the internet means never having to say ‘of course I can help you with that as long as you don’t mind that I’m wearing leg warmers and am covered in dogs’.

Everyone comes back on the 2nd, but I have two more days to go of working with a skeleton crew. (Plus, fun fact, my work is primarily building things that sales people sell and when the sales people are on vacation then I don’t have a lot to build. My RSS feed is at < 500 for the first time since September. Did you guys know that the Doc in NY with Ebola is totally cured??)

My ideas so far are:

  • Stream endless episodes of The Office on my phone. It’s like working. Except not. Plus Coastie and the other two guys from my team who will be on hand aren’t tv people so I bet I could show them the funny parts and they’d laaaaaaugh.
  • Practice my SAS programming. High on the list of smart and reasonable things to do.
  • Reenact endless scenes from The Office FOR Coastie et all. Upside, no excessive data usage. Downside, I think my Dwight is probably weak and honestly I suspect I would look like I was making fun of one of my actual coworkers but it would be because my impression granularity is bad, not because he’s actually like Dwight. I swear.
  • Decorate our aisle. The stats group is in a very tight, very boring cluster of cubes and we’re surrounded by sales and finance and their flashy push-pinned wall accoutrements. This would be the perfect time to up our game but literally the only thing I’ve thought of so far is caricatures of my team as super heros which a) nerdy and b) I cannot draw caricatures and do not know anyone who can.
  • Find one of the following: doctor, lawyer, member of the clergy, school principal, or police person. I’m mailing in my application for Irish citizenship this week but oddly, the Irish consulate cares not for our silly notary publics. They, instead, want me to find an upstanding person from one of those careers to sign a thing saying I am in fact me. I know we have lawyers working at my office but they probably didn’t run out of vacation yet. However, perhaps someone is an ex-cop. Or an ex-principal. There’s nothing about being a current whatever in the application, so I just need to talk to relative strangers all day about all the various things they’ve done for a living.
  • Ooo ooo ooo alternate idea: make a really cute sign for my desk that says ‘if you are/were/know a doctor etc, please let me know!’. That wouldn’t be weird at all.

Ideas are welcome.

as it should be

Thursday, September 18th, 2014

There’s a website that I love, that I’ve always been a little embarrassed to love. I primarily read it at night when I’m trying to fall asleep. There’s something about the list format that I find soporific - maybe because it’s easy to quit? Complete little mental bites and then move right along to either the next one or sleepiness.

That website is Cracked, and it has recently, sneakily, become pretty fucking feminist.

I’m not embarrassed to read it anymore. (Please note that I am talking specifically about the articles and quick fixes (essentially shorter articles). The videos and stuff might be terrible, I don’t know, I basically don’t watch videos on the internet. Get off my damn lawn.)

Oh, you want examples? Let’s do it.

Old Cracked: The 6 Most Inappropriate Porn-Character Occupations
S
ample line:

CHARLES MANSON
She who believes in hell, must believe in me!
WOMAN
Do you believe that I’m sexy?


New Cracked: 4 Ways Gamers Still Suck at Dealing with Women
Sample line: There’s a baffling disconnect where gamers want to be taken seriously, but they also want to be able to call Quinn (or Anita Sarkeesian, or Brianna Wu, or Jennifer Hepler, or the woman who just chainsawed them in half in Gears of War) insults that the average convicted sex offender would consider over the line. They want to have their asshole cake and eat it too.

Do you think that’s cheating? Because the old article was not intentionally anti-woman while the new article was clearly pro-woman? WRT the old article, I’m not saying they used to be anti-woman, I’m just saying they used to casually write whole articles that were jokes about female porn stars. For the new article I could have gone further and used the fact that they published an article by Zoe Quinn. (Quick summary: Zoe Quinn is a gamer/game designer/game maker who had parts of her sexual past revealed online and then was … I still don’t really understand. She was one of the various women who has been attacked lately for daring to be a gamer with a vagina out loud.) I could have gone straight for the anonymous, true story of being a sex slave in modern America. The gamers article seems kind of tame in comparison, but let’s go for a more innocuous example.

Old Cracked: 14 Valentine’s Day Gifts Guaranteed to Not Get You Laid
Sample line: The other problem is that even if a guy appeared in a real wedding magazine, he’d go to the ends of the earth to make sure his friends never found out.

New Cracked: 5 Classic Movies You Didn’t Notice Were Completely Insane
Sample line: It’s parody so I can’t really quote it but they call out the statutory rape in Indiana Jones.

I know, it’s not groundbreaking. The old one illustrates the ‘men don’t like girl things’ attitude that was prevalent in a lot of articles as well as anything I could find, and the new one takes beloved pop culture to task for an adult man sleeping with a sixteen year old. One more.

Old Cracked: Wives: A Users Guide
Sample line: Wives do not have an off switch. They talk constantly. To check that you are listening, they will drop something intelligent amongst the usual inane shit. Respond to that. Or else.

New Cracked: What We Really Mean When We Talk About Leaked Pics
S
ample line: And, yes, this is an issue specific to women; there likely won’t be a public-shaming of men who take naked selfies, because those aren’t the pictures that hackers are going to track down and share publicly. 

Right? RIGHT?

I’m just pleased that a funny website that isn’t specifically (or even superficially) geared towards women is starting to read this way. To be clear, they’ve always had some reasonable content. They used to have a specific writer named Christina H who nailed a lot of body shaming stuff, and most everything else was pretty neutral and also pretty funny (which is why I’ve been reading off and on for years).

I guess it’s just nice that instead of being surprised by a random ‘those ladies be cray amirite’, I’m now more often surprised by content that treats women as people who are both worth reading about and respecting as readers.

It’s sad that I’m so pleased by a website being as it should be that I’m actually writing about it, but, you know. Steps.

the worst way to waste a lip balm

Monday, July 7th, 2014

Last night, for no reason that I’m able to pinpoint, I was thinking about the first boy that I ever kissed that I didn’t particularly want to kiss. This is not a terrible story, have no fear. At worst you’ll leave it shaking your head and saying ‘Oh Emma, honey’.

I was fourteen or fifteen and his name was Seth and we were in a play together in Boulder. Weekdays I would walk a mile down the side of the mountain that I lived on and catch a bus, and then I’d walk another mile to the theater where we rehearsed. It was an old building, a round one that looked like  the top half of a geodisic dome, and it had no air conditioning.

Seth had lived in Hawaii before he came to Boulder. I think his father may have been in the military? He wore camouflage clothes (can I repeat, I was fourteen or fifteen) and had red hair and that’s all I remember about how he looked, but I was crazy about him the way a young teenage girl can be crazy about someone with no actual reason. He flirted with other girls in the play, but somehow, one day, he called me at home and asked if I wanted to go see a movie with him.

This part still embarrasses me residually. Like, I don’t think it SHOULD have been embarrassing, but I was so ashamed at the time that it’s literally still with me a little bit. He said the movie was at 9:30 and asked if I could get a ride, and I thought he meant in the morning because I WAS FOURTEEN AND WHO GOES TO A 9:30 PM MOVIE? I asked my dad about getting a ride and he was a little surprised at how early the movie was, so I looked it up and discovered that of course there was no 9:30 am show of whatever the heck we were supposed to see. So I called Seth back. I don’t remember what I said but I lied. For sure. Whatever I said had the gist of ‘I can’t go out at night after all let’s hang out during the day’. And then blushed for the next ten hours straight just thinking about how wrong I’d been.

So we met at Scott Carpenter park in Boulder instead and hung out and when we were in the trees by the river I realized he was going to kiss me and I didn’t want him to. My stomach felt bad – not flippy bad, but dread bad. I didn’t know what to do, so I let him kiss me.

He wasn’t my first kiss, but he may have been my second. Chris, in eighth grade, was my first kiss. The order from there gets a little fuzzy.

After we kissed (probably chaste and quick, I certainly don’t remember otherwise), I told him I actually had to leave and I walked a bunch of blocks to the mall and went to a department store and bought a four dollar tub of flavored lip balm because I didn’t want to feel like I was kissing him anymore. Four dollars was a serious investment for me.

We never went out (and definitely never kissed) again.

Here’s what I think about now. I wonder which part and how much of what happened had to do with whatever expectations I’d already fully internalized? Did I feel guilty about being attracted to someone? I was a goofy, poorly hair-cutted, badly dressed kid, and I hadn’t had a lot of experience with someone liking me back. It’s possible that I was feeling the beginnings of what actual desire would look like and it freaked me the hell out.

Of course it’s also possible that I realized that I didn’t actually like him for whatever reason. Any reason. And that I couldn’t say no because I didn’t know how girls did that. I’d certainly never seen it happen in school, or movies, or on tv or in books.

I didn’t have Katniss kissing boys or not kissing them and being ok with both. (I also didn’t have Bella being literally THE WORST. Who knows what would have happened if I’d embraced her as a role model.) I didn’t have the internet, so I sure as hell didn’t have thefbomb.com or even Rookie. I’m sure my mom would have given me strong advice, but I didn’t ask.

I used that balm almost compulsively for the whole rest of that day, and then could never bring myself to use it again.