Throughout the course of my career, I have worked in support roles doing administrative work, I have worked in support roles in technology companies, and I have worked for technology companies as a skilled employee.

In all of those roles, I have almost never experienced anything that I would classify as sexism. If I were to rate each experience according to how big of a role gender played in the attitude of the people around me, working in a technology company as a developer would win out head and shoulders above the rest.

Here's the thing.

The technology industry is a meritocracy. Geeks don't care where you were born, if you wear a suit or a scruffy tee shirt, what your orientation is, what you look like, and they barely notice if you happen to be female. Geeks care if you are smart, capable, and can make cool shit. Everything else is background noise. The men (and women) that I have known in technology make up one of the most consistently gender neutral cultures I have ever encountered.

I think that one of the reasons working in technology is difficult for many women is the simple challenge of feeling different. Anytime that you are different from everyone around you it is a challenge. You will run into places where the defaults just don't work for you. You will have to do more work to find solutions to problems no one else has. When your fundamental perspective diverges from the people around you, you have to work harder to communicate and understand ideas. At best, it's a lot more work. At worst, you may feel like you don't belong, worry that people don't accept you, or wonder if there is something wrong with you.

Me? Feeling different is comfortable territory. The skills for navigating a foreign environment, carving out my own place, and the ongoing extra effort involved all come second nature to me. Honestly, I don't even know what it would be like to "fit in".

I do know what it is like to be dismissed and looked down upon for being different, something I have seen in spades as a bisexual woman in the gay community, but not once as a female in technology.

I understand that my experience may not be representative of all industries, or even all technology companies.

But it bothers me deeply that women are being taught that they cannot succeed in technology. It offends me that they are told they will be oppressed and not taken seriously. And makes me angry to see women being trained to see every indication gender difference as a sign of prejudice.

I listened to this episode of Polyamory Weekly a little while ago, and this little excerpt keeps coming to mind. It comes from an interview between the host Minx, and Marcia and Ried, the founders of Cuddle Party.

Minx: "You know, one of the most powerful things, I thought, from the facilitated part, from the workshop part, was teaching people to say 'no' and then having them practice that. Because so many people in this world cannot just say 'no'.

"I love that you said 'No is a complete sentence.' It doesn't have to be 'No, but...' or 'No, well...' or 'No, I'm sorry...'. Just 'No.'"

Marsha: "Yeah, it's been really interesting I think for myself, the work I'm moving into from Cuddle Party is particularly working with women around communication, and particularly around 'No'. And learning how to ask for what you want. And one of the biggest things, it's really hard to ask for what you want if you feel like you can't say 'no'. Because why would you want to put somebody else into that situation? So I've noticed that there's a parallel between: if I can say no to someone without drama ensuing, then I can also ask for things without drama ensuing."

--Poly Weekly Episode
#177

This was one of those concepts that made everything make so much more sense! If you don't feel comfortable saying "no", then of course it will be hard to communicate the things you want. If the word "no" isn't part of your vocabulary, asking isn't asking -- it's demanding.

I so treasure the people in my life who I know will tell me in no uncertain terms exactly what they like, and what they don't like. Seem harsh? Well, sometimes it is. And yet, it is so refreshing.

Trying to ferret useful information out of someone who can not come right out and say what they think is a tedious and exhausting endevor. Did that pause mean that she really didn't want to go? Does this actually sound like fun to him, or is he just trying to make me happy? Is my design actually any good, or do they just not want to hurt my feelings? If someone won't speak up, you can never be sure where you stand -- and that means that you can never really enjoy a "yes".

The contrast between the two types of communication is like putting on glasses for the first time after living a life of nearsighted blur. Suddenly everything is so clear! All the information you need is right there in front of you and you know you can go about your business without bumbling into anyone or pawing about clumsily.

So, please. Tell me "no." I can handle it.

This is what I don't like about arbitrarily assigned significance. When things arbitrarily go wrong, as they are wont to do, it carries a much greater weight than is warranted. Instead of, "Man, today sucks" it's "This doesn't bode well for 2009." Seriously? The whole year is doomed because of one crappy Monday?

Of course, I love birthdays. At least I admit my hypocrisy.

I'm glad to see that as various forms of electronic communication abound, the phrase "in real life" ("IRL") is becoming slowly replaced by terms like "verbally", "in person" or even "in meatspace". Finally, we're getting over the idea that electronic interactions are any less "real" than their analog counterparts. Why even this post feels less pretend, doesn't it?

I wonder if the society ever went through similar dismissive phase about telephone conversations when they began to enjoy popular use. "Well, we have talked on the telephone, but this is the first time we have conversed legitimately."

As you may have noticed from my previous entries, I'm pretty upset about the various gay marriage votes across the country. But--and this may upset some of you--I don't think that the bans had anything to do with hate.

No, really. It is true that there are homophobic people who believe that it is a sin to do The Gay, and thus hate those ungodly sinners. But I don't believe that there are enough of those people to have passed proposition 8 alone. The majority who voted yes on 8 did so not out of hate, but out of fear.

To most people, marriage is not just a contract, not just a private declaration of love and commitment. Marriage is a symbol for a way of life. Even for unmarried, unreligious people it represents stability, security and happiness. It is the reward for life's hardships. It is the goal.

But for all of the deeply held faith that many have in this symbol, marriage is really not much to look at. Swept under the rug of "the sanctity of marriage" are high divorce rates, infidelity, bitter custody disputes. Even among marriages that manage to achieve 'till death do us part, many are reduced to joyless drudgery before the sweet end claims them.

It is news to no one that marriage is not in and of itself the doorway to marital bliss. The stamp of approval from your church or your government will not magically transform your rickety relationship into rock solid eternal bond. Everyone knows this, and yet people put their faith in marriage with near religious fervor, because they desperately need to believe that there is something that is stable and solid and forever. They need to believe there is a happy ending that will be there waiting for them.

This is why people are afraid. Our society at large has built their hopes and dreams on a foundation so tenuous that it will crumble under the weight of a gay feather.

It is a mistake to think that the person who voted for proposition 8 hates gays. That voter would be nearly as afraid of changing the spelling of the word marriage, let alone its potential makeup. To him, it is not about you and your relationship, rather about him and his whole world.

Is it a rational fear? Of course not. Nor is it okay to legislatively exclude an entire segment of the population from a public benefit on the basis of this fear. And it sure doesn't make a loving gay couple any more married knowing that those silly heteros are just afraid of the darkchange.

Still, it benefits no one to falsely accuse an insecure nation of hate. I really believe that it is a disservice to the gay rights movement to make this a self-fulfilling prophesy.

Fucking hell. You know, I thought I was more jaded than this.

( The thing that really gets me about prop 8... )

I found out today that there is a vaccine for Hepatitis A and B. Did y'all know that? Apparently they started giving it to kids in the mid-90's, but I was past the vaccination-getting age at that point.

Vaccinations for STD's make me happy to a silly extreme. It makes me feel like... we're winning.

All of History: Sex is bad, m'kay?
The 70's: Hey, wait... maybe sex is actually... GOOD! (Proceeds to go crazy with it.)
The 80's: D'oh, STD's. I guess sex is bad after all.
Modern vaccinations: Sex is good again, and we did it with SCIENCE. Take that, God.

I wonder equal parts about the seemingly innate need in some humans to have creatures to pet, as I do about the complementary need in some creatures for human attention. What did humans do before there were housecats and modern dogs? Did whole generations of humans get eaten by saber tooths and wolves, goaded by the overwhelming urge to OMG HAS TO SQUEEZE IT SO CUTE? Have countless wildcats and wolves over the eons been left baffled and dismayed when humans ran screaming from innocent attempts to nuzzle against legs or boof sleeping heads?

If it is so, then this trait must have been a tenacious one indeed, to survive countless tragic ends for humans and beast alike until finally a rare match of a cute-compelled humanbeast with his human-doting fuzzy was made.

One of the things that is delightful about Dr. Horrible is seeing how Joss's work has evolved over the years. At this point in his career, with several successful ventures under his belt and a horde of dedicated followers, this is usually right around where I expect an artist to fizzle out and start reusing the same couple of good ideas to death. Instead, even in this low budget, short and silly piece, his distinctive style shows through.

Joss's work is not unlike South Park in being a juxtaposition of conveying subtle and sophisticated points through a juvenile medium. Where South Park is complex social commentary amid toilet humor, Joss almost invariably demonstrates in an exaggerated yet realistic way the subtleties of human behavior and social interaction, against a fantastical and over-the-top backdrop. This study of culture, roles, and behavior is not unlike The Office, but instead of being in a setting we are all familiar with, it happens among monsters and heroes.

Another element that makes Joss Whedon's work so distinct is his tendancy to identify a common genre convention, then play with viewer expecation by turning it on its head. I think this is part of the reason he is so fond of killing off main characters. It defies our expectation that characters that we love are somehow protected by our fondness, and by making the world less safe it also makes it feel less artificial.

A more silly example of this device is the the opening scene of Dr. Horrible, (itty bitty spoiler alert,) opening with the dramatic maniacal laugh, but then transitioning to a down-to-earth monologue. I can think of a dozen tiny moments like this in his other work. In Buffy, the dramatic evil villain speech that gets unceremoniously cut off; in Firefly, Mal insisting that no, really, he doesn't need to do this for himself -- please give him a hand; a million subtle changes in pacing that surprise you, though you don't quite know why.

Then of course there is the witty dialogue, hot babes, and cool shit. Yes, yes I am a fangirl.

Mismatched expectations are the source of all drama.

Once you have internalized that, avoiding and correcting drama becomes pleasantly simple.

I am very good at accomplishing goals.

If I have determined to do something, I attack it with a single-minded ferocity that will not let up until it is exactly as I had envisioned. I am very, very good at this.

Single-mindedness though, lacks balance. Other things wither and die while I toil.

And it it can take so long. I grow impatient.

It would be good to learn a way to accomplish goals that is not to the exclusion of all else.

*sigh* Of course, I have said all this before.

So often these days when I'm out and about I find myself scanning the crowds, watching the door, hoping I'll see you there. I find myself searching for your face, that flair of your coat as you walk by, the presence that can be felt when you walk into a room.

It's silly of course -- if you had been here, I already would have noticed. You stand out in a crowd. Your attire, for one thing. It's not particularly extravagant or radical, but it still catches the eye. All of your outfits have a certain cohesive aesthetic that whispers of otherworldliness.

In short, you would stand out because you obviously wouldn't belong here. Heck, you don't belong anywhere, you're always just fifteen degrees off. But your quiet confidence and strong sense of self makes you comfortable wherever you are. It makes people like you -- they feel comfortable around you because you are comfortable with yourself.

It is so obvious that the way you watch things that the gears are turning in your head. Seeing you, a person is struck with the sense that you are high caliber. You are a step apart and a step above. It's a bit intimidating. Being around you feels like you are under the microscope, but at the same time there is an air of easy acceptance about you that puts people at ease. And that critical eye? It makes your approval so much more rewarding.

It is so easy for us to talk, not because we have all that much in common, but because we click, in that way that people do that are fifteen degrees off. We feel a connection that makes talking about ideas both foreign and familiar just flow. You make my brain go new places, and I think that is what I miss the most.

I don't know who you are, but I wish you were here.

In a recent post about the silly OSBP thing, (if you are not familiar with the concept, I don't particularly recommend you change that,) ursulav mentioned the following quote, "Men are afraid women will laugh at them. Women are afraid men will kill them."

This echoes the sentiment that I have heard in many modern feminist writings. That modern existence as a woman includes, by default, a very pervasive element of fear for their basic safety. I have heard tales ranging from a women relating the feeling of walking alone at night, to explaining that every encounter with a new man is twinged with suspicion of potential violence.

Hearing these women share their stories breaks my heart. The life of fear that they describe is tragic, and it is horrifying to me that anyone in modern times endures this.

The thing is? I don't understand. Fear is not a part of my life as a woman, and it never has been.

When I was a teenager, I certainly did not think particularly well of males. I believed that all men wanted something from me, and were willing to go to all levels of deceit and trickery to get it. I imagined that men sat in dark smoky rooms, laughing menacingly with steepled fingers as they formed their evil schemes to get in my pants.

I have since learned that most men, especially of the age range that I was dealing with in those days, are merely bumbling along awkwardly, trying to make a connection. The scheming I imagined was more likely boys trying to untangle the mysteries of the world, the baffling enigma that is girls, and the seemingly herculean task of getting one to pay attention to them.

But back then? I was defensive, sure. One might even say that to an extent, I was afraid. Afraid of heartbreak, afraid to trust. But I was never afraid for my safety.

While I am aware that women are the victims of sexual assault and violent crimes far more often than men, I see this in the context of the many other horrible, but relatively rare things that happen in the world. I am far more concerned about the idea of getting run down by a San Francisco cabbie than I am with either having my home destroyed by earthquake, or being raped in an alley.

This is not to say that there haven't been moments when, walking alone at night past an unsavory looking group of people, I might be acutely aware of my own relative strength, and my chances of defending myself if it became necessary. However, I also don't think that I would feel any less unsafe, all other things being equal, if I suddenly had a penis between my legs.

What I would like to ask you, if you are a woman and would be so generous as to share is -- are you afraid? To what level does it impact your life? Is it an undertone of every encounter with a strange man, or is it confined to certain situations? And most importantly, please help me understand -- why are you afraid?

I do not ask these questions to belittle the fear of any woman, nor do I mean to imply that anyone should or should not be afraid. I ask honestly, because I wish to understand.

I tend to disagree with people a lot.

I don't mean that I often find myself in disagreement with "normal" people, or that I tend to have alternate view points from the majority. While both of these things are true, what I actually mean is that for almost everyone in my life, there is at least one fundamental and conspicuous part of our worldviews that are intractably opposed.

This has pretty much always been the case. When I was young and a devout Christian, my view of reality had me believing the whole world was against me. Among my Christian friends though, it wasn't as though I had sanctuary -- we had wildly different value systems, diverging on pesky issues like "sin" and black nail polish.

The people and issues change over the years, but the pattern remains the same. A non-dancer among ravers. Having skeptical leanings among hippies. An atheist among pagans. Fairly vanilla among kink and poly folk. A Libertarian in San Francisco.

Because it is the status quo for me to fundamentally disagree with the people that I am closest to and have a great deal of respect for, it has given me an unusual disposition towards strangers I encounter that I disagree with.

I tend to start out with the assumption that while someone may be incorrect, they came upon this belief for a good reason. They may have insufficient data, their particular values may lead them to weigh some evidence more strongly than others -- that their collective life experience has made this particular conclusion, which just happens to be incorrect, seem compelling and entirely reasonable.

In short -- I don't think that just because someone disagrees with me, they must be either stupid or evil.

Over time, in a rather self-referential manner, I have come to realize that I can not expect this same perspective from everyone. Most people are not accustomed to being surrounded by people that are both dramatically different from them in some way who they also have a great deal of respect for. It makes it easy to assume that people who think things that seem stupid must in fact be stupid.

What bothers me though is when I see disdain and dismissal of the opposition from those who would call themselves skeptics, scientists and critical thinkers. For those who seek objective truth, flippantly writing off the opposition as "idiots" or "scum bags" is simply lazy. This cop-out avoids fully exploring the reasons that might lead a perfectly reasonable human being to a conclusion different from your own. In doing so, you cheat yourself out of a full understanding of the issue, and in turn compromise the basis of your own position.

You just can't really know you are right unless you completely understand, and can therefore confidently reject, the reasons people think you are wrong.

I am, for those of you who don't know me, a very materialistic person.

I am very comfortable with my materialistic nature. My good friend traidao once dubbed me a "materialistic consumer whore", a label I now wear as a badge of pride. My things are precious to me. I chose them with agonizing care, and they are a part of who I am. I love my things, and I am not ashamed of it.

Take my cell phones for example. I was one of the last of the people I knew to get a cell phone. Not because I was afraid of the technology, or had anything against it like many people. But because the ones that were being made just weren't good enough yet. I didn't want one of those clunky lunch-box like things as a part of my life.

When I finally did buy a cell phone, it was a Samsung 8500. I couldn't tell you the specs, but I can tell you that when it closed it had a satisfying *snap* that was both soft and decisive. It was from the first generation of flip phones, and the weight of it in my hand felt sturdy and yet elegant at the same time.

My next phone was the Samsung A500. It was so tiny! The buttons glowed a pretty blue, and the inside screen was in color! I remember the awe I felt the first time I saw the amazing picture on the screen. The buttons had a dainty little click when pressed, and the itty bitty LED on the outside was shaped like half a gum drop. It felt like magic and spaceships in my hand.

I have kept all of my cell phones, over the years. As each one past its time, I couldn't bear to part ways. Except for the first, I kept all of their original packaging, and though they all bear the scars of a life well lived, I like the thought that at any time I could charge them up again and turn them on.(*) Like saying hello to old friends.

Recently, it came time to retire my beloved LG VX9800. I placed it back into its box, nestled among its manuals and power cables, lovingly finding a place for it next to its companions. And I realized...

Man, I've got a lot of junk.

I may eventually have to come to terms with the fact that my tradition of keeping my old cell phones and their accompanying accouterments won't... scale. And it is possible that that time will come within the next week or so, when I assemble my recently purchased shelves and clean out my closet. But as I sit here tonight, looking at these lovely little remnants of a person I once was, I can't help but think...

I love my things.







* A theory which by the way, I have never tested. I am afraid I will find that they do not function properly without a valid network account to connect to, and I will be heartbroken.

You know, I think I know part of the reason that modern myths like cell phones causing fires at gas stations and vaccinations causing autism and are so appealing to people.

It is the allure of the idea that there are just some simple things that we as humans are doing that can easily explain why random Bad Things that happen. It gives us the sense that we have control over the random chaos of this planet, and the feeling that the universe is a thing that we can understand and control.

There was a brief period, when I first moved to this city, when I had lots of time.

Wait, that's not quite true, is it? I have always been busy, since I moved here. Busy finding a place to live. Busy finding furniture for my apartment. Busy figuring out my new job. Busy with my new job. The list goes on.

Perhaps it is more to do with the lack of the weight of a certain kind of obligation. Of all of those things hanging over your head that need to be Dealt With, or Figured Out. Of the bottomless to-do list, where every item checked off creates ten more.

So, there was this brief time, when I arrived, that felt like the world was full of opportunities. I thought of all new things I might want to try, thought of ways in which I might challenge myself, thought of all of the different kinds of "me"'s that I might become. It is the consequence of being so unsettled. That your deeply held assumptions about who you are and what you do and what you don't do are all up in the air, and you are aware, really aware that you could be or do anything, anything at all.

And I thought -- just as soon as I get some of this life stuff settled, then I'll go do those things, I'll go try on that new me. I just need to get some things under control first.

I realize now that the very act of getting the logistics of life settled robs you of that moment. Developing your habits and crafting your home and settling into your job -- not to say that the world isn't still out there, yours for the picking. But now, now you are settled into a particular You, with the particular things that You Do, and the things You Don't Do insidiously buried into the most core levels of your worldview. This happened without your exploring all the options, but as a side-effect of just dealing with banalities of existence.

And then along with this settled in new life comes those pressing responsibilities, the weight of things that must be dealt with and figured out, before you can start thinking about frivolous things like that hobby you might want to pick up... that you really don't have time for anyway... and really, is probably not your sort of thing anyway... I mean, really, you probably wouldn't be any good at it... and you have so many other things to worry about right now... so maybe some other time... maybe when you have some "free time".

Don't misunderstand me. I do have lots of opportunities available to me. Relatively speaking, I have very few responsibilities. No mortgage to pay, not children to support. I am lucky enough to live in a time in history with a particular skill set and aptitude that gives me the power to make choices in my life, bound by very little, and for that I am deeply, deeply thankful.

But I feel that I squandered a rare time in my life that came at great cost, for not realizing what precious moments were slipping through my fingers. I will still endeavor to make deliberate decisions about how I want to be spending my time, about who I want to be, to challenge my assumptions about myself and about the world. But those assumptions are there now, setting the stage for all that I do, a filter through which every thought goes.

There was a brief beautiful moment when I could look at the world with fresh eyes unburdened by those deeply ingrained self-imposed constraints... and I let it pass me by.

Next time, I will not be so negligent.

You know, one of the reasons I never post anymore is that I lost the urge to share links, or tell you about each other and how great you are. I seem to have had a mental shift where that sort of post no longer seemed valuable. I guess it seems like, the internet is right there. You know where it is. Hell, lookit you, you're on it! You don't need me pointing you anywhere.

This logic is flawed, of course. I often enjoy when people point me in a neat direction on the tubes.



Not-drawing my "fucking geek" comic caused me to think about this subject some more.

I have so many friends of various alternative inclinations. In fact, it is probably fair to say that none of my friends lack some sort of freakish trait. Be it goth, burner, web 2.0 enthusiast, software developer, gamer, pagan, poly, queer, Green, anarchist, performer... the list goes on. Everyone's got their own weird thing.

The thing that constantly amazes me though, is how frequently one group will say about another group, what amounts to,

"Look there! It's a member of an easily identifiable group that is very passionate about a particular interest! Armed with my ever so shallow knowledge of the subject, it is obvious to me that the pursuit lacks value, and therefore I scorn anyone foolish and naive enough to get so conspicuously worked up about it."

Each time I encounter this, I look at the speaker askance with a combination of sadness and incredulation. Perhaps if I were not so often at least minimally exposed to both areas of freakishness, it would not seem like such a childish and transparent defense mechanism for dealing with things you do not understand. Perhaps most freaks are only exposed to like-minded freaks, and therefore feel justified in thinking that their particular group is the only valid way to be. Regardless, each time I encounter it, my faith in humanity, such as it is, gets a bit of a blow.

Due to my self-analytical nature, the first question I ask myself upon discovering a commonly held trait that I dislike is, "Wait, do I do that?" And I have to admit, the answer is closer to a "yes" than I may like. For which group, you ask? Well, I'll tell you. It's sports fans.

In my own defense, my reaction to your Stereotypical Sports Fan has more to do with their, eh hem, boisterous enthusiasm disturbing the folks around them without consideration. However, if I am to be honest I must admit, my annoyance is tinged with an assumption of value based on precious little evidence.

And having thusly been self-admonished, I'll get back to work.

You know what I think the problem is with most bug tracking software out there? They are not opinionated enough.

In my experience, bug trackers fall into two categories: (1.) Try to solve every problem and (2.) Barebones.

The former category is usually accompanied by horrid user interfaces, and it becomes a full time job to configure them to meet your companies needs -- which they never quite does. The latter category may be nice at first, but you quickly bump your head up on the limitations.

What if, instead of trying to build a product that kinda-sorta meets the needs of whatever process you have, a product was built for exactly one process?

The process should be encoded into the product. Rather than being customizable, so that you can twist nobs until your process is as confusing and convoluted as possible, a product should be strict and tell you how what your process is. The status field of a task or ticket should not be customizable. It should tell you: these are the possible states of a ticket. This is what each state means. This is the indicator that a task should now move forward or backwards in state.

If bug tracking and task management software were built with the methodology, customers could immerse themselves in a methodology and find if it fit their needs. If they found it did not, they could try a different product, a different process methodology, and see how that works for them. But each company would not have to reinvent the wheel each time.

I suspect that a more opinionated approach to software might benefit us in many areas.

I once played a key role in convincing a friend of mine not to join the service -- where, because she had spent her entire high school career in ROTC, she would have received a full college scholarship and joined as an officer. As far as I know, today she has still not furthered her education, but works writing software and does not regret her decision.

I generally have the impression that joining the service is a terrible idea unless you have some combination of the following factors:

in a situation that offers very poor alternative options

severely lacking basic life skills that would allow you to take advantage of the options you have

suffering from severe personality flaws that would prevent the same

In particular, it seems a terrible idea for young, bright (if troubled,) minds who will likely work their problems out in a year or two, and become resourceful individuals who can create opportunities for themselves.

My reason for this is simple. Joining the service at the cusp of adulthood will shape who you are and consume what could be the best years of your life. More importantly, the years when you would be exploring the world, discovering and deciding who you want to be. Instead, you spend that time being told who to be.

I don't even necessarily think it is a bad way to be. Many of the values and skills they teach are respectable and beneficial. While the aesthetic and culture doesn't particularly appeal to me -- well, we're not talking about me here.

So, while you may be able to list many of the things a person can gain from joining the service, it still seems like an option that should be considered an absolute last resort. Perhaps it is my sense of fierce individualism, but handing yourself over to be stamped into a mold instead of creating it yourself just chills me to the bone.


All of that being said, I had the thought today that I have come to this conclusion largely uninformed. So. What do you think?