I love getting the email from Facebook to notify me that someone is using a photo I posted as their profile picture. It is really an honor to think that I managed to capture them in a way they find flattering, or more importantly, how they see themselves.
So thank you all for being yourself when I take photos. :-)
Had a dream that I was at this small, outdoor convention that hadn’t started yet. There were kids running around unsupervised. I was making my way up to the stage when I ran into Bill Clinton and asked, Can I help you, sir? He was relaxed, and suave, and he gave me a key card and two gold keys and asked if I could hold them during his speech. Then he said that I was pretty enough, maybe I could stand on stage behind him, very still, and just look good. I just looked at him and said, Yes, sir.
We were on stage, sitting at a picnic table on the side, waiting for it to start, I didn’t notice until I woke up that after I looked away at the crowd and then back again, Bill Clinton had turned into Bill Gates. So he talked about his humanitarian work. He was distracted by the kids running around and seemed nervous. He kept mishearing what I was saying. My friend, Sock, sat down with us at the table for a moment.
I said we should move behind the podium. I reached into a shelf under the picnic table to get the two gold keys and the keycard which had morphed into a ziplock bag with the core of an old lock pulled out of a door and two rusty mismatched keys. Next to it was half a pill pack of Sudaphed.
As he walked four steps ahead of me, I realized neither of the Bills recognized that I was the main keynote speaker for the day and they were second billing.
Oh! My speech!
I went back for it in the picnic table and was rifling through papers when I remembered I didn’t need it because I had memorized it.
That was when the dog woke me.
Time to return to reality. Not that reality is anything to scoff at, but I do love vacations on tropical islands! Thanks to Meine Schwester for inviting me. :-)
Last night we went out to Bali Steak and Seafood for an incredible meal. We all needed a good steak and bottle of wine after that tough day shopping.
As promised, the meal was fantastic, the waitstaff loved us, and we had a blast. We were probably the rowdiest group that they’ve had in a while. Beautiful views of the ocean, it is more of a romantic retreat than a hangout for single girls.
On the way out, we ran into this guy who claimed to give the best hugs in the world. We let Fixie Queen test it out. I think she was satisfied. :-)
Those hipsters in SF got nothin’ on this one!
We spent the day shopping. Killed me, but I did get some cute outfits for golf. :-)
Got up early yesterday so that we could make a 1430 twilight tee time in Oahu. We were slow, but we made it to the 13th hole just in time for sunset.
Seriously, my life doesn’t suck.
On the same topic I’ve been harping about lately, and to prove that I’m not the only one thinking it, here is an interesting Rant About Women by Clay Shirky at NYU. An excerpt,
So I get email from a good former student, applying for a job and asking for a recommendation. “Sure”, I say, “Tell me what you think I should say.” I then get a draft letter back in which the student has described their work and fitness for the job in terms so superlative it would make an Assistant Brand Manager blush.
So I write my letter, looking over the student’s self-assessment and toning it down so that it sounds like it’s coming from a person and not a PR department, and send it off. And then, as I get over my annoyance, I realize that, by overstating their abilities, the student has probably gotten the best letter out of me they could have gotten.
Now, can you guess the gender of the student involved?
Of course you can. My home, the Interactive Telecommunications Program at NYU, is fairly gender-balanced, and I’ve taught about as many women as men over the last decade. In theory, the gender of my former student should be a coin-toss. In practice, I might as well have given him the pseudonym Moustache McMasculine for all the mystery there was. And I’ve grown increasingly worried that most of the women in the department, past or present, simply couldn’t write a letter like that.
This worry isn’t about psychology; I’m not concerned that women don’t engage in enough building of self-confidence or self-esteem. I’m worried about something much simpler: not enough women have what it takes to behave like arrogant self-aggrandizing jerks.
This is similar to what I was wrote in Geeks drive girls out of computer science when I said,
I once sat in a group of female heads (principals) of boarding schools. Each woman talked about how it was that she decided to go after the Head of School job. Out of 8 Heads of School, only one of them admitted that she had wanted the job and pursued it. The other seven all talked about having a friend, coworker, or administrator who encouraged them to apply for the job. And every one of them was more than qualified for the position, but was timid about seeking it without some encouragement.
Thanks to September for joining me for drinks, letting me rant, and pointing me to this post.
Seriously, is this how guys learned resister codes?
I refuse to repost the racist rape mneumonic here, but you can read it for yourself in the comments in this reddit post.
Thanks to @janeylicious for pointing this out.