Month: November 2005

Categories
Travel

Planes, trains, and automobiles

I head back home tonight. There’s a movie titled, Planes, Trains, and Automobiles with Steve Martin as a man wanting to spend Thanksgiving with his family. Though I hope my trip does not emulate his, I can easily borrow the title for mine:

I catch the train from Sandpoint, Idaho to Spokane tonight at 11:49pm. According to the train tracker:

As of the last report at 10:41 am between Stanley, ND (STN) and Williston, ND (WTN), it was running 14 minutes late.

I get into Spokane at 1:50am if all is well. I then grab a taxi to the airport, in a city notorious for cabs with duct taped doors.

I get to the airport hopefully by 3:00am, check in, go through security with two laptops, and a camera with lenses–each of which, along with my shoes, will have to be investigated for bombs or other WMD.

*My flight leaves for Salt Lake City at 6:45 am, on board Delta, just one of the many American airline companies in Chapter 11 bankruptcy. I wish I could remember where I read about one person’s experience flying, where the captain’s end of flight announcement was, “Thank you for choosing our bankrupt airline over others.”

I get to Salt Lake City at 9:45 MST, and spend three hours exploring the airport, including its art collection. I contemplate taking photographs of the airport. I then remember the general American paranoia associated with our airports, and most likely refrain.

I depart SLC at 1:00MST on a flight run by a Delta subsidiary, which was just sold to another airline.

I arrive in St. Louis at around 5 in the afternoon, when roommate picks me up.

At 6, I hug Zoë.

Thanks to Phil, the quote from the bankrupt airline pilot is from fury.com:

“We realize you had a choice betwen several bankrupt airlines to fly today, and we thank you for choosing our bankrupt airline.”

A Delta Airlines pilot

Categories
Weblogging Writing

Mundane

am eating an apple.

I am eating a red apple.

I am eating a red Fuji apple.

I am eating a juicy sweet, red and green Fuji apple.

I am eating a juicy, barely blushed Fuji apple, which leaves a tart-sweet taste across my tongue.

I am eating the apple, and the taste takes me back to a time when all I had to worry about was whether I would still be hungry after one apple, or whether I should go for two.

I eat the apple! I, woman, eat the apple! No man peels it for me, and no ring of flesh will be tossed over my shoulder to see who will be my captor and hold the keys of my cage. Because I am woman, hear me eat!

I linger over the next bite into the fresh flesh of the ruby dusted globe of pure sweet nectar–just oh so tart enough to make my lips pucker…making me think of you and that night; you know which night.

I am eating the omega of a world hell bent on self-destruction since the first, the alpha was plucked from the reluctant tree by innocent Woman and bit by gullible Man; led out of gardens of joy by Corporations, who slither here and there whispering words of want, breathing fumes of greed.

I bite the apple and become the apple and the apple becomes me. Therefore, bite me.

I hold the apple to the sun and admire the play of light across it’s shiny surface and think there has never been an apple as perfect as this, and how can I eat it; but I must–the perfection of the apple exists within its core and I must carve away the outer to discover it.

No, I did not have sex with this apple! But if it is left unchecked, I have no doubts that its seeds would proliferate and someday take over the world–forcing you and me into a continuous round of shopping at Wal-Mart because it is WMD: a Wal-Mart Delectable.

What the f**k is an apple suckling tree and is this apple I suck from it?

If apples weblogged they would….wait, that sounds strange.

Categories
Diversity

Beauty is only geek deep

Misbehaving pointed to a new Geek Calendar featuring 12 young, attractive female tech workers in typical calendar poses.

According to the “About the Producer” page (the producer being one of the models):

Lilac Mohr, who herself is a Senior Java Developer, is the producer of the Geek Gorgeous Calendar. Sick of hearing complaints from male co-workers about the lack of attractive women in the computer industry, Lilac set out to show the world that there are plenty of beautiful, intelligent, and interesting women in the fields of computers and engineering.

Gina at Misbehaving writes:

This seems like a good idea, but it’s too bad the photos are so cheesy and tasteless (in my opinion). I don’t know about you, but I don’t use pink ethernet cable as a bikini top. In addition to the photo, each month includes a summary of each model’s technical skills and quotes on working in the male-dominated tech industry.

I would have much rather seen classy, artsy photos of people looking both beautiful and geeky.

Personally, I would rather have seen a small, stylish photo of each woman, and then fill the page with code or other results of their work. To me that would be both geeky and beautiful. But then, according to the creative tech writer, I’m not the target audience:

My version would probably be a study of “What Not to Wear” befores and afters — in my experience, it’s a rare geek who can pull off the prOn pout with studied disheveledness with any style. Give me the slightly overweight and overworked senior network engineer who wears too-tight yoga pants, oversized sweaters, and ponytails. Or the newly-back-from-maternity-leave security manager who’s gotten no sleep in 12 weeks and still has to manage the outcomes of 3 crises her first week back. Talk about people in need of some cheesecake overhauling. And after they’ve been pampered and styled for the camera, what do you think their eyes would say as you stared at their calendar pic? I don’t think it would be anything like what the GeekGorgeous.com girls are saying. Sure, they’d look as good, but they’d be telling a whole other story.

I’m sure that were I to interview at any number of companies, and I walked in looking like who I am — an almost 51 year old woman who would really prefer not to pose in Victoria Secret underwear in public, thank you–there would be no disappointment among the young males who I’m most likely to be interviewing with. I believe in challenging stereotypes, but I agree with I Speak of Dreams: There are better approaches.

Maybe my reluctance about the calendar is that I don’t know any of the women. I wonder how Joi Ito would look as a Victoria Secret Angel?

Categories
Weblogging

Disparity

Recovered from the Wayback Machine.

Jason Kottke wrote of his trip to China:

When I first conceived of doing kottke.org on a full-time basis, one of the things I wanted to do was to go to Asia and document the experience for the site. Several micropatrons asked me to use their contributions to, quote, “get out of the house, for the love of God, and go somewhere nice and take pictures and tell us all about it”. Unquote.

Okay my beloved readers, here’s your chance. Show me you love me by sending me somewhere nice and telling me to take pictures.

Dave Winer asks where to send the bucks. I suppose my Paypal account will work, but I think we need to decide where I should go. In my comments, Phil suggests Nebraska.

Nebraska would be interesting. But I was rather thinking of Australia, New Zealand, or an African safari myself…

Categories
Stuff

Mundate

I am eating an apple.

I am eating a red apple.

I am eating a red Fuji apple.

I am eating a juicy sweet, red and green Fuji apple.

I am eating a juicy, barely blushed Fuji apple, which leaves a tart-sweet taste across my tongue.

I am eating the apple, and the taste takes me back to a time when all I had to worry about was whether I would still be hungry after one apple, or whether I should go for two.

I eat the apple! I, woman, eat the apple! No man peels it for me, and no ring of flesh will be tossed over my shoulder to see who will be my captor and hold the keys of my cage. Because I am woman, hear me eat!

I linger over the next bite into the fresh flesh of the ruby dusted globe of pure sweet nectar–just oh so tart enough to make my lips pucker…making me think of you and that night; you know which night.

I am eating the omega of a world hell bent on self-destruction since the first, the alpha was plucked from the reluctant tree by innocent Woman and bit by gullible Man; led out of gardens of joy by Corporations, who slither here and there whispering words of want, breathing fumes of greed.

I bite the apple and become the apple and the apple becomes me. Therefore, bite me.

I hold the apple to the sun and admire the play of light across it’s shiny surface and think there has never been an apple as perfect as this, and how can I eat it; but I must–the perfection of the apple exists within its core and I must carve away the outer to discover it.

No, I did not have sex with this apple! But if it is left unchecked, I have no doubts that its seeds would proliferate and someday take over the world–forcing you and me into a continuous round of shopping at Wal-Mart because it is WMD: a Wal-Mart Delectable.

What the f**k is an apple suckling tree and is this apple I suck from it?

If apples weblogged they would….wait, that sounds strange.