Do you know the power unit "horsepower"? And I'm sure you can figure out that it was not named after someone, like Joule or Newton. No, it is called horsepower because it is how much power a horse can produce. Know what else can produce power? You.
I stumbled upon an article in Gizmag: New and Emerging Technology News from yesterday about this company in the United Kingdom that is creating small, free, open-air gyms that harvest the energy that the people produce.
BRILLIANT
Why has this not already been a thing? Why did no one ever think of this before? It's so, so brilliant. I love it. I want my own. Peace out, America. I'm going back to London. I miss the Underground PLUS I can work out at a free, open-air gym, get some fresh air and a tan, and do my part to help the world's energy crisis!
But really, we should have thought of this a long time ago. One of the first things you learn in physics is the law of conservation of energy. Energy is not created or destroyed, it is transferred. So when you go to the gym and burn calories, every calorie you burn transfers 4.2 kJ out of your body. Energy which can be converted into power. Power which can be used.
Currently the generated electricity is used to light the exercise zone at night,
but it could be used on local buildings or more.
One person's comment really made me think about how big of an impact this simple idea could actually have on a multitude of issues:
"Imagine a world in which electric utility companies set up local "gyms"
consisting of treadmills, stationary bikes, elliptical trainers, etc.
... where one could actually work out, supply electricity to the grid,
and maybe help cut one's own electric bill in the process. I wonder how
much healthier we might be."
Um, YES?
For all of our sakes, I sincerely hope that this idea does not fail. I really hope it gets to America. People will be more motivated to exercise because instead of spending money on a gym membership, they will be saving money on their electricity bill. And while doing this, they are getting some fresh air and sunshine and exercise, all things key to good health.
Isn't there a joke about trying to harvest the energy that three-year olds have? Well, here you go.
I'm so excited to see what the future brings.
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
Monday, June 25, 2012
Flawlessly Brave
So here's the thing about me: I will never meet you on time, but I'll
be there eventually. I won't finish that assignment when I promised I
would, but I will finish it at some point. So, I may say I'm going to
write MWF and not follow through, but I will write that post eventually.
I was distracted on Friday. I had a date with Delilah and a vampire. :[
:)
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~
Have you heard about the Disney Pixar movie Brave? With the adorable little ginger girl? A lot of people have been talking about it, about how she's Pixar's first heroine and everything. It is apparently a pretty big deal. To be honest, I think it's annoying that they make it such a big deal. One of my problems with feminism and everything is that they feel the need to bring your attention to all the female "firsts." I would have never noticed that she was Pixar's first heroine character if it weren't for all the articles heralding her as such. I mean, I can see why it's good to acknowledge these firsts, but it also makes everything so much more important than it has to be. Why couldn't this just be a movie about a little ginger girl? Who kicks some ass? It's not like Cars or Monsters Inc. existed for anything besides entertainment. Why couldn't this be the same? Instead, everything must be scrutinized. Like when there is a first female Senator or a first female Vice Presidential Candidate or what have you, she cannot just stand for her politics like all the men. She also has to stand for her gender. In 2008, Hilary Clinton and Sarah Palin, and currently Michele Obama, were always being judged on how they represented their gender and how they dressed. Oh, she dressed too feminine, too sexy, not appropriate. Oh, she dressed too masculine, so butch, she is not proud to be a woman. She wants to be a man. Blahblahblah now you got me started, ha.
ANYWAY
I just get annoyed because, from personal experience, sometimes I just wanted to be an ECE student. Not THE GIRL ECE student. Everything had to be made that much more important. Just let me do me, sheesh.
But yeah. Not really on topic. So. Brave. A lot of the articles about it were talking not only about how she's a heroine, but about how she just looks normal. She has freckles and uncombed hair and a quirky little face. And some nice child-bearing hips. Bam. :p
That was honestly my favorite part about her. Because I mean, I don't know, Mulan was pretty kickass. I mean she did it dressed as a man mostly, but it was also a comment on the setting and time period of the story. So it was not like I had never seen a female hero before. I just had never seen one so quirky and average looking.
So image my intense disappointment when I saw the doll they made of her. Wouldn't you love to cuddle a doll with that hair and that shape and that face? Shouldn't they make the doll look just like the animation, which they are totally capable of doing, because they do it for EVERYTHING ELSE?
Guess not:
Fail.
:)
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~
Have you heard about the Disney Pixar movie Brave? With the adorable little ginger girl? A lot of people have been talking about it, about how she's Pixar's first heroine and everything. It is apparently a pretty big deal. To be honest, I think it's annoying that they make it such a big deal. One of my problems with feminism and everything is that they feel the need to bring your attention to all the female "firsts." I would have never noticed that she was Pixar's first heroine character if it weren't for all the articles heralding her as such. I mean, I can see why it's good to acknowledge these firsts, but it also makes everything so much more important than it has to be. Why couldn't this just be a movie about a little ginger girl? Who kicks some ass? It's not like Cars or Monsters Inc. existed for anything besides entertainment. Why couldn't this be the same? Instead, everything must be scrutinized. Like when there is a first female Senator or a first female Vice Presidential Candidate or what have you, she cannot just stand for her politics like all the men. She also has to stand for her gender. In 2008, Hilary Clinton and Sarah Palin, and currently Michele Obama, were always being judged on how they represented their gender and how they dressed. Oh, she dressed too feminine, too sexy, not appropriate. Oh, she dressed too masculine, so butch, she is not proud to be a woman. She wants to be a man. Blahblahblah now you got me started, ha.
ANYWAY
I just get annoyed because, from personal experience, sometimes I just wanted to be an ECE student. Not THE GIRL ECE student. Everything had to be made that much more important. Just let me do me, sheesh.
But yeah. Not really on topic. So. Brave. A lot of the articles about it were talking not only about how she's a heroine, but about how she just looks normal. She has freckles and uncombed hair and a quirky little face. And some nice child-bearing hips. Bam. :p
That was honestly my favorite part about her. Because I mean, I don't know, Mulan was pretty kickass. I mean she did it dressed as a man mostly, but it was also a comment on the setting and time period of the story. So it was not like I had never seen a female hero before. I just had never seen one so quirky and average looking.
So image my intense disappointment when I saw the doll they made of her. Wouldn't you love to cuddle a doll with that hair and that shape and that face? Shouldn't they make the doll look just like the animation, which they are totally capable of doing, because they do it for EVERYTHING ELSE?
Guess not:
Fail.
Wednesday, June 20, 2012
Bubble Girl
Not gunna lie, while I was at college for four years, most of my news came from Facebook or through a spoof on College Humor. I was sheltered from the world, both physically and mentally. Physically, my campus was a self-sustaining unit on top of a hill, separated from the city below with some seriously steep steps. Mentally, I just did not watch the news. I did not read the newspaper, unless you count the crime log of the student paper. I did not check news websites. I was very uninformed. I always figured that, if it was really important for me to know (i.e., terrorists, war, giant asteroid crashing toward earth), I would hear about it some other way. For instance, I found out about Osama Bin Laden when I finished my semester-long software engineering project three seconds before it was due at midnight and walked outside for the first time in days to fireworks and drunk kids on the quad waving American flags while Public Safety looked on. So, you know, if it was important, I'd find out.
Every once in a while, I would have moments of panic when I realized just how out of touch I was with the world outside my college bubble. Someone would mention a political candidate (a lot of my friends watched Stephen Colbert and Jon Stewart, so they were at least getting the information somehow), and I would realize I had no idea who they were talking about.
Last summer, I had an internship and to pass the time in between tasks, I would spend hours on Google News. I knew all the political candidates, I knew all about the Casey Anthony trial, I knew about the debt ceiling, and most exciting of all, I actually had opinions. INFORMED opinions. And that felt powerful. But then of course, classes started again and I went back to my computer programming and my Glee nights.
So now that I'm out in the real world, killing time in the morning before I feel ready to actually start working, I'm back to my Google News. I'm back to my informed opinions.
But then I decided to watch some news on TV.
First, they had one little blurb about some recent figures that stated that America contains 5% of the world's population but a third of the world population's weight. Casual. No need to dwell over that TERRIFYING STATISTIC. *puts down ice cream, picks up Shake-Weight* And THEN, they proceeded to talk for AT LEAST five minutes about how Alec Baldwin punched a paparazzi.
Um. Alright, so I may not know much, but I know that there are more important things going on in America, in the world in general, than Alec Baldwin punching a paparazzi.
Maybe, while at college, I was not as out of touch with current events as I thought I was. Maybe I was even more in touch with what is actually going on in the world than people who get theirs news solely from news stations. So I didn't know who the political candidates are. Who cares? Does it really matter what they all stand for? None of them ever follow through anyway. But you know what I did know? I knew what it was like to be homeless. I volunteered at a homeless shelter and participated in Hunger and Homelessness Awareness week. Where is that on the 11 o'clock news? Know what else I know? About all the mass genocide going on all over the world. There was an Amnesty International club at college that downright shoved that information down my throat. But you know what? I'm glad they did. Ever hear about Darfur? Or Uganda? Or Rwanda? Yeah, the Holocaust was terrible, and we would never let something like that ever happen again. Except we do. Every day. If the twenty-first century.
So maybe when I was in college, I did not know the ins and outs of the NBA lockout or each politicians stance on birth control (since whether or not I have an illegitimate child is really going to affect anyone's life but my own) and gay marriage (or as I like to call it, marriage). Maybe I did not know about each and every gunshot fired in Philadelphia or that time this celebrity and that celebrity were caught holding hands. But I did learn about people. The kind of people that the news does not mention with near enough frequency. The people dying from AIDS and starvation and mass genocide all over the world. The people in our own communities who cannot support themselves or their families, who have children going to bed hungry and waking up hungry and remaining hungry all day while their neighbor has a six dollar latte. Did you know that SIX THOUSAND children die every day because they do not have access to safe drinking water? Yeah. Let that sink in.
But you know what I really wanna hear about? Let's interview the paparazzi that Alex Baldwin punched and decide if this is a growing trend among the A-listers. Fascinating.
Sorry to burst your bubble.
Every once in a while, I would have moments of panic when I realized just how out of touch I was with the world outside my college bubble. Someone would mention a political candidate (a lot of my friends watched Stephen Colbert and Jon Stewart, so they were at least getting the information somehow), and I would realize I had no idea who they were talking about.
Last summer, I had an internship and to pass the time in between tasks, I would spend hours on Google News. I knew all the political candidates, I knew all about the Casey Anthony trial, I knew about the debt ceiling, and most exciting of all, I actually had opinions. INFORMED opinions. And that felt powerful. But then of course, classes started again and I went back to my computer programming and my Glee nights.
So now that I'm out in the real world, killing time in the morning before I feel ready to actually start working, I'm back to my Google News. I'm back to my informed opinions.
But then I decided to watch some news on TV.
First, they had one little blurb about some recent figures that stated that America contains 5% of the world's population but a third of the world population's weight. Casual. No need to dwell over that TERRIFYING STATISTIC. *puts down ice cream, picks up Shake-Weight* And THEN, they proceeded to talk for AT LEAST five minutes about how Alec Baldwin punched a paparazzi.
Maybe, while at college, I was not as out of touch with current events as I thought I was. Maybe I was even more in touch with what is actually going on in the world than people who get theirs news solely from news stations. So I didn't know who the political candidates are. Who cares? Does it really matter what they all stand for? None of them ever follow through anyway. But you know what I did know? I knew what it was like to be homeless. I volunteered at a homeless shelter and participated in Hunger and Homelessness Awareness week. Where is that on the 11 o'clock news? Know what else I know? About all the mass genocide going on all over the world. There was an Amnesty International club at college that downright shoved that information down my throat. But you know what? I'm glad they did. Ever hear about Darfur? Or Uganda? Or Rwanda? Yeah, the Holocaust was terrible, and we would never let something like that ever happen again. Except we do. Every day. If the twenty-first century.
So maybe when I was in college, I did not know the ins and outs of the NBA lockout or each politicians stance on birth control (since whether or not I have an illegitimate child is really going to affect anyone's life but my own) and gay marriage (or as I like to call it, marriage). Maybe I did not know about each and every gunshot fired in Philadelphia or that time this celebrity and that celebrity were caught holding hands. But I did learn about people. The kind of people that the news does not mention with near enough frequency. The people dying from AIDS and starvation and mass genocide all over the world. The people in our own communities who cannot support themselves or their families, who have children going to bed hungry and waking up hungry and remaining hungry all day while their neighbor has a six dollar latte. Did you know that SIX THOUSAND children die every day because they do not have access to safe drinking water? Yeah. Let that sink in.
But you know what I really wanna hear about? Let's interview the paparazzi that Alex Baldwin punched and decide if this is a growing trend among the A-listers. Fascinating.
Sorry to burst your bubble.
Monday, June 18, 2012
You've Got A Friend In...
It's still Monday until you go to sleep, am I right?
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.
You know what the best part about your four (or more) years of college is? Orientation. Either some week in the summer or the week before classes start, everyone comes to the campus and basically hangs out. Learns the layout of the campus. Maybe a sexual assault or a drugs and alcohol talk thrown in for good measure. But the most important part of orientation, is that you (ideally) come out of it with a group of friends. And even if they were friendships of convenience, at least you have people to eat with at meal times for the first few weeks before you meet the kids on your floor and the kids in your classes and the kids in all the billions of clubs you sign up for at your first activities fair.
Because, you know what I've found? It takes friends to make friends.
It's kind of like that Catch-22 of getting a job or getting a credit card (you can't get hired without experience, you can't get a credit card without having good credit). If you do not have any friends, it is really hard to make friends. The majority of my friends I met through other friends. Who knows how that initial friend of mine met this person, probably through a class or a club or most likely, another friend. But at some point they invited this friend to meet me, and we hit it off. I have some really good friends that I met on my own, that I either had class with or worked with or was in a club with or lived across the hall from, but a lot of my best friends I was introduced to. Either I had a friend who dated this person or lived with this person, or I had a friend throw a party that this person was also invited to. I needed friends to make more friends.
I guess what I'm trying to say is, I have no friends. :) Alright, alright, not true. But much closer to being true than it has ever been in my entire life. Your introduction to the real life is not the same as that first night of college. When I moved in, my neighbors and I did not stay up all night telling each other our life stories. My neighbors barely know or care that I exist. If I go out to a restaurant, I can't take comfort in the knowledge that the kid sitting by himself in the corner is new too and really wants someone to sit with him. Yeah, that probably wouldn't go over real well.
But I have hope. I have a handful (less than a handful) of friends living in the same city as me, and we are all in the same boat. But we also know that once one of us makes a friend who actually has ties to the city, the entire city will open up to us. We'll meet their friends who will introduce us to their friends who will introduce us to their friends just by being at the same bars or the same clubs or the same gatherings, and sooner or later, we will each find our little niche of people to become our new support group.
We just have to make that first friend. That's all it takes.
So how do we meet this first friend? There's work, but everyone is so busy, I can't just go around asking the people who look my age if they wanna hang. There's bars, but unless there is a good pool table or something on TV, it would be awkward just sitting at the bar trying to figure out which group of friends might talk to me (plus as a five-foot girl who looks about sixteen years old, this is not the safest choice). There's also volunteer groups and churches and local sports and stuff, which is probably the route I will take. At least you are there for a reason. The ice will already be broken because you have something to talk about. I spent the weekend pouring over different newsletters that different organizations in the city put out, talking about different events and stuff that I intend to go to.
But you know what it really takes to make a new friend? Courage. Courage and confidence. The courage to go up to a complete stranger and say "Hey. I'm new around here. How's it going?" And the confidence in knowing that you are completely awesome, and this person would be lucky to have a friend in you.
So for now, I'm just waiting for that magical, elusive first friend. After that, it will be a breeze.
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.
You know what the best part about your four (or more) years of college is? Orientation. Either some week in the summer or the week before classes start, everyone comes to the campus and basically hangs out. Learns the layout of the campus. Maybe a sexual assault or a drugs and alcohol talk thrown in for good measure. But the most important part of orientation, is that you (ideally) come out of it with a group of friends. And even if they were friendships of convenience, at least you have people to eat with at meal times for the first few weeks before you meet the kids on your floor and the kids in your classes and the kids in all the billions of clubs you sign up for at your first activities fair.
Because, you know what I've found? It takes friends to make friends.
It's kind of like that Catch-22 of getting a job or getting a credit card (you can't get hired without experience, you can't get a credit card without having good credit). If you do not have any friends, it is really hard to make friends. The majority of my friends I met through other friends. Who knows how that initial friend of mine met this person, probably through a class or a club or most likely, another friend. But at some point they invited this friend to meet me, and we hit it off. I have some really good friends that I met on my own, that I either had class with or worked with or was in a club with or lived across the hall from, but a lot of my best friends I was introduced to. Either I had a friend who dated this person or lived with this person, or I had a friend throw a party that this person was also invited to. I needed friends to make more friends.
I guess what I'm trying to say is, I have no friends. :) Alright, alright, not true. But much closer to being true than it has ever been in my entire life. Your introduction to the real life is not the same as that first night of college. When I moved in, my neighbors and I did not stay up all night telling each other our life stories. My neighbors barely know or care that I exist. If I go out to a restaurant, I can't take comfort in the knowledge that the kid sitting by himself in the corner is new too and really wants someone to sit with him. Yeah, that probably wouldn't go over real well.
But I have hope. I have a handful (less than a handful) of friends living in the same city as me, and we are all in the same boat. But we also know that once one of us makes a friend who actually has ties to the city, the entire city will open up to us. We'll meet their friends who will introduce us to their friends who will introduce us to their friends just by being at the same bars or the same clubs or the same gatherings, and sooner or later, we will each find our little niche of people to become our new support group.
We just have to make that first friend. That's all it takes.
So how do we meet this first friend? There's work, but everyone is so busy, I can't just go around asking the people who look my age if they wanna hang. There's bars, but unless there is a good pool table or something on TV, it would be awkward just sitting at the bar trying to figure out which group of friends might talk to me (plus as a five-foot girl who looks about sixteen years old, this is not the safest choice). There's also volunteer groups and churches and local sports and stuff, which is probably the route I will take. At least you are there for a reason. The ice will already be broken because you have something to talk about. I spent the weekend pouring over different newsletters that different organizations in the city put out, talking about different events and stuff that I intend to go to.
But you know what it really takes to make a new friend? Courage. Courage and confidence. The courage to go up to a complete stranger and say "Hey. I'm new around here. How's it going?" And the confidence in knowing that you are completely awesome, and this person would be lucky to have a friend in you.
So for now, I'm just waiting for that magical, elusive first friend. After that, it will be a breeze.
Sunday, June 17, 2012
Pennsylvania Welcomes You
Before I say what I want to say, I just wanted to clarify what I want this blog to be. This was my first week living on my own, so I got a little distracted with unpacking, plus that waste of a day when the cable came and I was glued to the television watching shows I didn't even like just because I could. First world problems.
Anyway, I intend to have new posts every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, with topics ranging from my opinion on current events or learning how to live on my own, to new technology or music news that I find interesting and want to share (since those are the two worlds I live / want to live in), to just rants on society in general (I'll attempt to keep those at a minimum).
Also, on Saturdays starting mid-July (I'll be really busy the next two weekends), I want to record a music video on YouTube and post it. I need some motivation to actually do so (I've only been talking about doing it for like three years now), and I really think I'm at the point musically where I want to share it with the world. Or at least my one faithful reader who I send the link to after a new post, the one who has stuck with me through many emo (SOOO EMO) Xanga entries. =)
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~
A few years ago, I hopped a plane with my college friend who lived in Kansas to go to his house, pick up his car, and drive it back to school. It was my first time out of the timezone, and probably the longest I'd been away from Pennsylvania, where I both grew up and went to college (and now live on my own). As we drove through the flat flat flat flat flatlands on our way back to Philadelphia, I noticed all of the signs when we crossed state borders: "Welcome to Missouri", "Welcome to Illinois", "Welcome to Indiana", "Welcome to Ohio", "Welcome to West Virginia", and finally "Pennsylvania Welcomes You." It is basically saying the same thing, but I don't know, doesn't it seem like Pennsylvania just means it more? Like the other states are only saying it because they have to?
It's such a minor thing, but that was one of the first times where I really appreciated Pennsylvania for all that it is. And driving west along Route 100 yesterday was another.
If you've never taken a drive along Route 100, I highly recommend you do so. It's one of the most peaceful, spiritual, intriguing drives that really makes you stop (don't actually stop, you're driving on a highway) and appreciate nature and life in general. There were very few cars on the road, at least on this particular Saturday afternoon in June, so for the most part it will just be your and your thoughts. And every once in a while, a cow.
Many times along the drive, I would come up over a hill and below me I would see this picturesque sight of the dark Appalachian mountains and a little town glowing in the sun. I would squeal in delight at how beautiful it was, and was both extremely disappointed there wasn't someone next to me taking pictures and extremely grateful to be by myself. Pictures wouldn't have done it justice, anyway. They never do.
"But, Lauren," you're thinking, "this is the beauty of AMERICA, not just Pennsylvania. You should know. You drove along I-70 for three days!"
Yes, yes. There are many beautiful sights all over America. Many of which I haven't seen, but need to see before I die. Once I get more vacation days. But the beauty of Pennsylvania, the beauty of Route 100, is I drove past cows fifteen miles after leaving a bustling city. I went from city traffic to farmland in about three Adele songs. And Route 100 is not just valleys and farms and beauty that makes you want to cry. Sometimes, the speed limit would drop because Route 100 turned into the freaking MAIN STREET of a little Eastern Pennsylvania town! You could really sense the history of Pennsylvania, home of what was once our nation's capital, as you drove through these towns. The buildings were all so old and spread apart, I found myself wondering if they had running water and electricity. (I mean, I know better. I'm sure they all have high-speed internet and iPhones. Probably don't have very good wireless, though). I really felt like I had traveled back in time.
And I like to think that is somewhat unique to Pennsylvania. I've always thought Pennsylvania, Penn's Woods, was pretty cool. I once saw this map around election time showing how many people voted in each county. In the counties near Pittsburgh, Philadelphia, and the Lehigh Valley, there were hundreds of thousands of voters. And then in Erie County up in the northwestern corner, about five times larger than the Pittsburgh, Philadelphia, and Lehigh Valley areas combined, there were one thousand. One thousand voters. There were two thousands students on my college campus, and that was a really small college.
I know New York has its big cities and its low population wooded areas. I know California has big cities and mountains and deserts. And I could be wrong, but it just seems that in Pennsylvania, it is easier to escape the pull of the city. It doesn't take long to escape society and the city lights. You can be in the center of Philadelphia, one of the biggest cities in America, and after about twenty miles of driving, all you see is land. It's the best of both worlds.
Thanks for welcoming me, Pennsylvania.
Anyway, I intend to have new posts every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, with topics ranging from my opinion on current events or learning how to live on my own, to new technology or music news that I find interesting and want to share (since those are the two worlds I live / want to live in), to just rants on society in general (I'll attempt to keep those at a minimum).
Also, on Saturdays starting mid-July (I'll be really busy the next two weekends), I want to record a music video on YouTube and post it. I need some motivation to actually do so (I've only been talking about doing it for like three years now), and I really think I'm at the point musically where I want to share it with the world. Or at least my one faithful reader who I send the link to after a new post, the one who has stuck with me through many emo (SOOO EMO) Xanga entries. =)
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~
A few years ago, I hopped a plane with my college friend who lived in Kansas to go to his house, pick up his car, and drive it back to school. It was my first time out of the timezone, and probably the longest I'd been away from Pennsylvania, where I both grew up and went to college (and now live on my own). As we drove through the flat flat flat flat flatlands on our way back to Philadelphia, I noticed all of the signs when we crossed state borders: "Welcome to Missouri", "Welcome to Illinois", "Welcome to Indiana", "Welcome to Ohio", "Welcome to West Virginia", and finally "Pennsylvania Welcomes You." It is basically saying the same thing, but I don't know, doesn't it seem like Pennsylvania just means it more? Like the other states are only saying it because they have to?
It's such a minor thing, but that was one of the first times where I really appreciated Pennsylvania for all that it is. And driving west along Route 100 yesterday was another.
If you've never taken a drive along Route 100, I highly recommend you do so. It's one of the most peaceful, spiritual, intriguing drives that really makes you stop (don't actually stop, you're driving on a highway) and appreciate nature and life in general. There were very few cars on the road, at least on this particular Saturday afternoon in June, so for the most part it will just be your and your thoughts. And every once in a while, a cow.
Many times along the drive, I would come up over a hill and below me I would see this picturesque sight of the dark Appalachian mountains and a little town glowing in the sun. I would squeal in delight at how beautiful it was, and was both extremely disappointed there wasn't someone next to me taking pictures and extremely grateful to be by myself. Pictures wouldn't have done it justice, anyway. They never do.
"But, Lauren," you're thinking, "this is the beauty of AMERICA, not just Pennsylvania. You should know. You drove along I-70 for three days!"
Yes, yes. There are many beautiful sights all over America. Many of which I haven't seen, but need to see before I die. Once I get more vacation days. But the beauty of Pennsylvania, the beauty of Route 100, is I drove past cows fifteen miles after leaving a bustling city. I went from city traffic to farmland in about three Adele songs. And Route 100 is not just valleys and farms and beauty that makes you want to cry. Sometimes, the speed limit would drop because Route 100 turned into the freaking MAIN STREET of a little Eastern Pennsylvania town! You could really sense the history of Pennsylvania, home of what was once our nation's capital, as you drove through these towns. The buildings were all so old and spread apart, I found myself wondering if they had running water and electricity. (I mean, I know better. I'm sure they all have high-speed internet and iPhones. Probably don't have very good wireless, though). I really felt like I had traveled back in time.
And I like to think that is somewhat unique to Pennsylvania. I've always thought Pennsylvania, Penn's Woods, was pretty cool. I once saw this map around election time showing how many people voted in each county. In the counties near Pittsburgh, Philadelphia, and the Lehigh Valley, there were hundreds of thousands of voters. And then in Erie County up in the northwestern corner, about five times larger than the Pittsburgh, Philadelphia, and Lehigh Valley areas combined, there were one thousand. One thousand voters. There were two thousands students on my college campus, and that was a really small college.
I know New York has its big cities and its low population wooded areas. I know California has big cities and mountains and deserts. And I could be wrong, but it just seems that in Pennsylvania, it is easier to escape the pull of the city. It doesn't take long to escape society and the city lights. You can be in the center of Philadelphia, one of the biggest cities in America, and after about twenty miles of driving, all you see is land. It's the best of both worlds.
Thanks for welcoming me, Pennsylvania.
Thursday, June 14, 2012
What is a Beautiful Girl in Engineering Called?
A Visitor.
Ba dum *sssss*
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~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.
Side note: When I was looking for a good derogatory joke about "women in engineering" for the title, it wasn't until I switched it to "girls in engineering" that I had any success. I'd like to thank my Women and Gender Studies class for that little tip.
Ba dum *sssss*
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.
A friend shared a link on my Facebook the other day to an article in The New York Times regarding the recent sexual discrimination lawsuit rocking the Silicon Valley. You can read the article, entitled "Lawsuit Shakes Foundation of a Man’s World of Tech" here.
I've never really considered myself a feminist; I shudder even at the thought of it. I like to think of myself as one of the guys. But the fact is, I'm not. While earning my Bachelor of Science in Electrical and Computer Engineering, I was the only girl in my year, with no girls the year before me and two girls the year after me. And while the boys (almost) never said or did anything particularly hurtful, when you're different, it is definitely brought to your attention. Like, daily. I was a tour guide at school, and I used to dread the part where the parents would ask what my major was. I would always get "the face," a combination of shock and disbelief, followed by "Really? How many girls are in your classes?" To which I respond, "just me."
I wouldn't trade my time spent with those fifteen boys for anything in the world, just to clarify. I was the annoying little sister to their big brother, the mother to their rebellious teen. I definitely don't want to imply that I was in any way seriously harassed for my gender while in their presence.
But it's the little things. The jokes. "The face." The comments. They further drive a wedge between women and technology. It is difficult enough for a woman to get to the point where she enters the professional world in a technology field, but if she receives this subtle discrimination, she may question her ability to hang with all the "bro-grammers." And when I say "difficult," I don't mean that the actual workload is more difficult for women than men, that women are any less (or any more) capable of succeeding than men. There have been studies to prove this. The "difficult" part is all in her, all in our, head.
Little girls get dolls, little boys get tools. Did I have Legos? Sure. But they were pink. They made a little house.
Meanwhile my brother's Lego set created the entire landscape of Star
Wars. His Lego people chopped off people's heads with lightsabers, mine
made dinner and raised a family. In a nature vs nurture argument, I'm
fully siding with nurture. Why did I get the pink Legos? Because they
were marketed to me. From early on, that little girl, entering the world with a pink
hospital cap slapped on her head before being laid on a pink blanket, is
not given toys related to technology, unless you wanna count the circuit board in an
Easy-Bake Oven. No, the toys that build engineering skills are boys
toys. And no six-year-old girl wants the toy that all the little boys on TV have. Because she's not a boy. Ew, gross. Cooties.
I can talk a lot more about what prevents women from even trying to enter the tech field, and I probably will. That's the last research paper I did in college. And I was pretty proud of it.
But for now, I just wanted to comment on the little things that take place once a woman overcomes all the media pressure telling her that she doesn't belong and actually starts working.
Ellen Pao, a junior partner in her early 40s at the distinguished venture capital firm of Kleiner Perkins Caufield & Byers, is the one who blew the whistle on the sexual discrimination in Silicon Valley. As the article puts it, now the people who are supposed to be working on the "new, new thing," who are supposed to be creating our future, are stuck in the past, arguing about an "old, old problem."
Parts of the article were weird and unnecessary (like the part talking about how Ellen Pao's husband was suing the building he lived in for not letting him expand, and then interviewing his previous long-term boyfriend as a character witness for both of them. Um.. what?). But it's not necessarily this particular case that is important and newsworthy, it's the entire concept, the entire idea of what it is like for women working in the Silicon Valley, in the technology world in general. People are talking about it because this is NOT an isolated event. Rather, it is a depressingly common event that is usually swept under the rug. In the article, one interviewee (who's company recently found out she was pregnant and was attempting to remove her from the board in anticipation of her maternity leave), expressed concern that an event like this will limit opportunities for women even more, that companies will not hire women so they do not have to worry as much about sexual discrimination suits.
I really connected with a quote on the first page: '“You talk to any woman in technology and she will have a personal story
or know a story where she felt conscious of her gender in subtle or
significant ways,” said Kathy Savitt, 48, the chief executive of the social commerce start-up Lockerz.
Sometimes, she said, it’s as mild as realizing, “I’m the only chick in
the room.” Other times, “it’s a lack of relevance, a feeling [that] you can see
an end to your opportunities.'
Already, less than 20% of computer science degrees are awarded to women, a percentage which has already peaked and is on the decline, and a large portion of these women do not end up with careers in computer science. When you are already going against what society expects you to do, and you get those little comments and awkward feelings, at some point you just might cave and leave. Go back to the kitchen, which the lost boys of my generation seem particularly in awe of. (Go make your own goddamn sandwich).
To conclude my rambling, I have a few quick comments on the article itself:
1) Not sure how I feel about the title of the article... if I try to
remember punctuation correctly, it assigns the "World of Tech" to "Man"
with that little 's. And as much as I want to believe this is a comment
on the situation and meant to be taken ironically, I can't help feeling
that it's not.
2) One of the men they interviewed was the author of a 1999 book titled "The Silicon Boys." Ironic?
3) Notice that they put the ages of all the women mentioned (either age or year of graduation), but none of the men? ISN'T THAT SO WEIRD? I can't even figure out why. I assume something related to giving the reader an idea of their physical appearance. Obviously the most important take-away.
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.
Side note: When I was looking for a good derogatory joke about "women in engineering" for the title, it wasn't until I switched it to "girls in engineering" that I had any success. I'd like to thank my Women and Gender Studies class for that little tip.
Monday, June 11, 2012
First Night of My Life
From November 1989 to August 1993, I was a baby.
From August 1993 to May 19, 2012, I was a student.
From May 19, 2012 to yesterday, I was... on vacation? In limbo? Stuck between my past and my future. Stuck between my college graduation and my first day of work. Struggling to fully comprehend what was coming because I could not (cannot?) come to terms with the fact that everything up to this point will, forevermore, only be referred to in the past tense.
I used to go to college. We used to go to the Wawa next door after the bars closed. I used to move into a new room each year fully stocked with furniture and wireless internet. I used to have off that week between Christmas and New Years. I used to go home at night to a roommate, with all my friends only a quick walk across the quad away. I used to be in my childhood home with my parents, brother, and sleepy kitty for weeks at a time between semesters.
I used to.
Yesterday, I got in my new car to drive to my new apartment so I could start work today at my new job (technically two new jobs). I started the drive with Lucas Prata singing "Tonight is the first night of my life" and an hour later (ok, so I still just barely left my childhood home) pulled into my apartment parking lot with Green Day singing "Another turning point, a fork stuck in the road..." Touché, SiriusXM.
I woke up this morning on a new mattress, tangled up in some new sheets. Got dressed out of a suitcase, and drove to work. After work, I'll drive home, stop at Target to buy some food (the only thing edible in my fridge is a bottle of Ketchup), go back to my apartment, and then what?
What comes next?
I'm a young professional from June 11, 2012 to when? Until I become an old professional? Which I'll be until I retire and/or die?
There has to be something more to this next chapter. There has to be something more to this first night of my life.
Guess I'll find out.
From August 1993 to May 19, 2012, I was a student.
From May 19, 2012 to yesterday, I was... on vacation? In limbo? Stuck between my past and my future. Stuck between my college graduation and my first day of work. Struggling to fully comprehend what was coming because I could not (cannot?) come to terms with the fact that everything up to this point will, forevermore, only be referred to in the past tense.
I used to go to college. We used to go to the Wawa next door after the bars closed. I used to move into a new room each year fully stocked with furniture and wireless internet. I used to have off that week between Christmas and New Years. I used to go home at night to a roommate, with all my friends only a quick walk across the quad away. I used to be in my childhood home with my parents, brother, and sleepy kitty for weeks at a time between semesters.
I used to.
Yesterday, I got in my new car to drive to my new apartment so I could start work today at my new job (technically two new jobs). I started the drive with Lucas Prata singing "Tonight is the first night of my life" and an hour later (ok, so I still just barely left my childhood home) pulled into my apartment parking lot with Green Day singing "Another turning point, a fork stuck in the road..." Touché, SiriusXM.
I woke up this morning on a new mattress, tangled up in some new sheets. Got dressed out of a suitcase, and drove to work. After work, I'll drive home, stop at Target to buy some food (the only thing edible in my fridge is a bottle of Ketchup), go back to my apartment, and then what?
What comes next?
I'm a young professional from June 11, 2012 to when? Until I become an old professional? Which I'll be until I retire and/or die?
There has to be something more to this next chapter. There has to be something more to this first night of my life.
Guess I'll find out.
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