Enjablog

From today’s Weingarten Chat:

AJ, AR: Since you are a commentator on gender interactions, I was hoping you’d share your position on men holding doors open for women.

This subject is of disproportional interest to me for a few reasons: I work in a male-dominated field (engineering,) I look like a helpless female (short, petite, late 20s but appear about 17), and I am decidedly non-girly. Nothing makes me feel less like a peer than when the crowd of guys I’m working with parts to let me through a door first. I’ve resigned myself to their behavior, but I’ve taken to holding the next door open for everyone.

The amount of consternation this generates with some men is amazing. I even had a 3 minute standoff once because one man wouldn’t go through a door before me. Most aren’t that extreme, but many have to tell me each and every time that their mothers’ would be horrified to know what they were doing. So, what’s the deal?

I didn’t write this, but I may as well have. I can’t say that I’ve ever had a standoff before, but I’ve gotten the “my mother would never have allowed this” and the parting of men so that I might cross the threshold first. I don’t take offense to this, but I do think it’s dumb. It makes sense for one person to open the door and hold it open long enough for the next person to catch it and so on until everyone has gotten inside.

I have had a door held open for a group on a number of occasions, gone through, and then held open the second on a double-set of doors for everyong else. This usually goes over fine without any trouble until the last person (the one who held the first door open) then holds the door while I go through before him. The person writing in seemed to have a major problem with this, while I really don’t care. It makes no sense, but this seems relatively benign to me. If I were to open a door and keep walking, I would hold the door long enough for the person behind me to grab it, so it makes no difference to me who goes through first.

Other scenarios:
- Guy who pauses at the door and then gives me a dirty look for walking through first… Was I supposed to wait to figure out if you were trying to let me walk through before you or if you were just deciding whether to pick your nose? I don’t care which it is, just don’t hold up traffic.
- Elevators where women are forced to exit first, even when men are blocking the front of the elevator.
- Waitstaff who make the guy feel bad for doing or not doing something, i.e. pulling the chair out, paying the bill, etc. What’s up with that? Do you think if you support stereotypes, you’re going to get a better tip from someone you guilted into paying? Or from me, after assuming the guy will pay?
- Guy goes to pull out chair for me at a table. When we are both heading to the table from the same direction, unless there is some obvious gesture (hand on shoulder, nudge, eye movement, helping me off with my coat), I’m going to assume you want to sit in the chair that you head toward. Yes, I’ve looked like a fool before when I assumed wrong and it just looked like I was being chased around a table.

Anyway, no point today. Thoughts, anyone?

People’s day is the seventh day of the lunar new year.

For some reason, both my sister and I thought it was the day after new year’s. And we both remembered being told this by our mother. I have been telling people about this for the past 4 years or so. Both of my brothers had no idea what this holiday was about and claimed no recollection. Lenny thought it was some Communist holiday. So, I don’t know where we came up with this.

So, I take back the happy wishes from yesterday and they will be delayed until Saturday. Until then, Happy Lunar New Year! Gung hay fat choy. :)

Spent most of the weekend hanging out with family. I went over for lunch on Saturday and hung out for a while. Then, I went over to Kohl’s with Yenny, Sonny, and my mom for some super-clearance sale shopping. We helped Sonny find a lot of stuff. And my mom was re-introduced to the “latest” clothing trend (you know, the pants with the intentional holes in them or the intentional holes that come pre-patched).

I discovered that I have now reached a point where I am between female clothing categories. I don’t fit Juniors anymore because my hips/thighs are too wide for them. Not that it’s a bad thing. I’m just not proportioned like a pre-teen/teen anymore.

I’m too small for petites. They ranged from 4-16. I’m too small for misses and women’s. So, I think I can find shirts in petites or misses, although I’m not proportioned right for a lot of the misses tops either. But I have no idea where to buy pants anymore. I think I just need to have my mom fix everything for me. Maybe if clothing sizes went back to the “normal” sizing scheme and stopped re-numbering things to make people feel good about themselves, I’d be able to find pants.

Saturday night, Ian and I headed over to Sonny’s for movie night. We brought our latest NetFlix movie, but Sonny had already seen it. So, we ended up watching something he had DVRed that none of us had seen before: The Crying Game. Huh. That was an interesting movie. We all knew the secret, but had no idea what the movie was actually about. I remember my 7th grade Social Studies teacher giving away the secret to my entire class. It was a bunch of pre-teens who weren’t old enough to watch it and wouldn’t be able to for at least half a decade. Somehow, we got started talking about it in class and found out our teacher had seen it the weekend before and convinced her to tell us the secret. Anyway, a decade and a half late, it was good. Mostly because it was different and not some cookie-cutter predictable movie. I spent most of it trying to figure out what the point was.

Sunday night, Ian and I watched Robots. So funny! I don’t know why people told me it wasn’t any good and I shouldn’t bother watching it. It was cutesy and sappy… and all the other predictable stuff from animated movies. I laughed.

In other news, some bird made the biggest mess on my car sometime between Saturday night and Sunday morning. Between the rain, the windshield wiper fluid, my wipers, and a half-hour drive to and from my parents’ house, I was still not able to get this stuff off of my car. It’s like down to half the size now, but there’s still stuff on the hood and wipers that I didn’t deal with. I have to go get my car washed. BUT I also learned this weekend that bird poop is good luck. I will elaborate on my luckiness later this week.

Happy People’s Day! Although, I suspect my parents have been lying to me all my life. Either that or the internet is wrong. I’m so confused…

People day is the day celebrated in China that is everyone’s birthday. I always thought it was the second day of the lunar year, but according to the internet it is the 7th day of the first moon.

Yay! It’s the year of the dog! :)

Squidgey ranted about someone telling her that women shouldn’t curse. Which reminds me of a different, but related rant: apologizing for cursing [in front of little girls].

There have been plenty of times when people happen to stop in the hallway outside my office (it’s at an intersection near the exit) and start chatting away. Inevitably, over the course of the conversation, someone will casually curse. Whatever, I don’t care. But oftentimes (maybe once a week), someone will look over after cursing and notice me sitting at my desk quietly “working” and apologize.

Ok, so I’m a little girl and you shouldn’t curse around me? I mean, regardless of size, I’m obviously old enough to have graduated from college and have been working here for a few years. That’s old enough to hear a couple 4-letter words. Maybe they’re worried that I might *gasp* gossip about their potty mouth.

The worst occurrence happened a few days ago. I was in a meeting with about 9 other people and one guy kept using 4th grade curse words, like “crap” and “screwed up.” On multiple occasions, he stopped mid-sentence, looked at me, apologized, and repeated his sentence replacing the “curse words” with less offensive words, like “stuff” and “messed up.” It was so bad that my boss brought it up with me later, saying that if he were really sorry about it, he should just stop cursing! Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve ever heard my new boss curse. For a lifetime military guy, that’s surprising to me.

In response to the male/female hypocracy about who’s “allowed” to curse, I think that’s crap. Use whatever words you want, whoever you are. I don’t think it matters so much whether a person is male or female; it matters the situation/environment you are in. Personally, I don’t think it’s professional to curse at work. I mean, that would definitely be dependent upon your work environment, but for a place where everyone is walking around in suits, I expect there to be other means by which to express yourself.

So am I saying that since I’m disapproving people should apologize at work when they curse? No. That’s dumb. Either don’t do it, or don’t draw attention to it when you do. If you know it’s inappropriate, but continue to do it anyway, what’s the point in apologizing? You’re obviously not actually sorry. If you don’t think there’s anything wrong with it, then go ahead. What do I care? Are you apologizing solely because I’m a girl? That’s dumb. That makes you dumb. HA!

In general, I don’t curse. Maybe that makes people feel like they should censor themselves around me? But the reason I don’t curse is mostly laziness. Like I said, I don’t curse at work because I think it’s unprofessional. I also don’t curse in front of family. I don’t have a good reason for that one, but just because. Also, not in front of kids. Not so much because I care, but because a lot of parents are very uptight about that. So, after a while, I’d just be spending all my time censoring myself, making sure I knew where I was or who was around me every time I got worked up and started ranting. It’s not part of my daily language because it’s easier for me to just talk without thinking (which, of course, always works out for the best… *ahem*).

Well, happy new year’s eve… Welcoming the year of the dog! :)

Went out to Taquerio Poblano last night for TLD’s b-day. There were marguaritas, burritos, and tacos. Woo! (Don’t tell them, but I still like Chipotle better…) Everyone was still there waiting, even though I caused Ian and I to be almost an hour late.

Marble Cake

INGREDIENTS:
1 3/4 cups (170 grams) sifted cake flour
2 teaspoons (10 grams) baking powder
1/2 teaspoon (3.5 grams) salt
1/3 cup (76 grams) unsalted butter
1 cup (200 grams) granulated white sugar
2 large eggs, lightly beaten
1/2 cup (120 grams) milk
2 teaspoons (8 grams) pure vanilla extract
1 1/2 ounces (43 grams) bittersweet or semisweet chocolate

DIRECTIONS:
Preheat oven to 350 degrees F (177 degrees C) and place rack in center of oven. Grease a 9 inch (23 cm) cake pan then dust with flour, tapping out excess flour (or spray with a vegetable oil and flour spray, such as Baker’s Joy).

In a stainless steel bowl over a saucepan of simmering water melt the semisweet chocolate. Remove from heat and set aside.

In a separate bowl sift together the flour, baking powder and salt. Set aside.

In bowl of electric mixer, cream together the butter and sugar until well blended (3-4 minutes). Add beaten eggs, a little at a time, mixing well after each addition.

With mixer on low speed alternately add flour mixture and milk to batter, beginning and ending with flour. Stir in vanilla extract.

After preparing batter, pour half of the batter into a bowl. Stir the melted chocolate into one half of the batter, blending well. Put the batter into the prepared pan by alternating spoons of vanilla batter and chocolate batter. With the end of a wooden spoon, gently draw swirls through the batter to marbleize it. Don’t overmix or you won’t have that wonderful marble affect.

Bake for 25 to 30 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean and the cake top is golden brown and springy to the touch.

Notes: Make sure butter is room temperature. Microwave worked just fine for melting the chocolate.

Chocolate Frosting
4 cups (460 grams) confectioners sugar (icing or powdered sugar), sifted
1 cup (226 grams) unsalted butter, room temperature
1 1/2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract
3 tablespoons milk or light cream

4 ounces (120 grams) unsweetened chocolate (melted)
1 tablespoon milk.

In an electric mixer, cream the butter until smooth and well blended. Add the vanilla extract. With the mixer on low speed, gradually beat in the sugar. Scrape down the sides of the bowl and beater. Add the milk and beat on high speed until frosting is light and fluffy (about 3-4 minutes). Add l or 2 tablespoons more milk if too dry. Beat chocolate (melted) and additional milk into finished icing.

Cover the icing with plastic wrap to prevent drying until ready to use. Store it in a covered container in the refrigerator for up to 2 weeks. Re-whip before using.

Note: This made enough frosting to cover and fill a 2-layer 8″ cake.

Happy birthday, TLD!

Someone mentioned recently noticing men driving up to the Metro kiss ‘n’ ride, both he and the female passenger getting out of the car, and the woman getting into the driver’s seat while the man goes into the Metro station. And after it was mentioned, I realized I had seen this dozens of times. And thinking that it made no sense.

1. The seats and mirrors have to be re-adjusted.
2. The woman is obviously quite capable of driving on her own if she is permitted to drive away with the car.
3. When she picks him up in the evening, or drops him off again the next morning, they’re going to have to go through the seat/mirror readjusting again, which also holds up the cars behind them at the metro.
4. It takes longer to switch passenger/driver than it does to just drop someone off and drive away.

I don’t understand at all. I drive my car to drop Ian off at the Metro. He gets out; I drive away. Even if we had one car that we shared, it would make sense for me to drive because he is the one getting out of the car. If it’s a quick drop-off, whoever is getting out of the car should not be driving, whether it’s public transit, a carpool, or whatever.

Why do they do this? Are the men control freaks? Are the women scared to drive with a man in the car? Or just choose not to? Are the men driving so the women can have a few extra minutes in the morning to do make-up or read the paper? Are the women taking naps? Or playing Animal Crossing? Do the women not understand the directions on how to get there? (But they’re perfectly fine to leave from there?) Do the men get no other chance to drive?

Someone please explain this to me. I guess I’d let Ian drive if that would provide me with a significant nap (or fishing time…). But the drive for us to the metro is approximately 4 minutes. What’s the point?

Ok, so I try not to write too much about work on here, but just by coincidence, an email was sent out yesterday after I posted my rant. In compliance with Sarbanes-Oxley, they are changing password change policy. You must change your password every 60 days, can’t re-use your last 10 passwords, and they must each be complex (3 out of 4 of the character categories).

They’re trying to improve security; I get it. But the examples they give for “good” passwords? Fireman5 and, better, Fireman5$. Uh… I know they’re busy, but shouldn’t they at least come up with some good examples? I mean not even anything elaborate: 2B|not2B. Use a good example and come right out and recommend people not use dictionary words! Vanity plates are better passwords than most people use… My2ndBMW Oh, so clever! Yeah, not, but it qualifies as a “complex” password.

And you know what happens when you tell people to change their passwords every 6-8 weeks? At best, they have a counter on their password. At worst, they completely change their password every month and add it to their post-it password list of things they can’t use next month. And you know where they store that post-it note? On their monitor. Or under the keyboard or in a drawer if they’re sneaky. How is that more secure or better than having one password? Or having people change their passwords every 4-6 months?

Edit: Got a call back in response to an email I sent to the CIO and he assured me that he disagreed with it all too, but that’s what he negotiated out of the auditors. Maybe in a year or so if nothing horrible has happened, they’ll let us extend the period between passwords. So, at least he’s fighting for our password rights too.

VHMPrincess mentioned registering on some website a couple days ago requiring her to have a stronger password than her work network. My peeve? My bank *doesn’t allow* my standard secure password, much less my passwordmaker password. How dumb is that? 6-8 alpha-numeric characters — no symbols? What kind of security is that?

But what can I have a secure password on? Myspace, Evite, Netflix… Oh my goodness! Someone’s going to accept an invitation for me. Or bump up a movie in my queue. Wait! No, they can’t. But what they can do is transfer money of out my bank accounts and use my credit cards online without my knowledge. *Awesome*.

QOTD:

Dear Amazon.com Customer,

We’ve noticed that customers who have purchased The Zombie Survival Guide : Complete Protection from the Living Dead by Max Brooks also purchased books by David Strorm. For this reason, you might like to know that David Strorm’s How Animals Have Sex : A Guide to the Reproductive Habits of Creatures Great and Small is now available in paperback. You can order your copy at a savings of 32% by following the link below.

Um… thanks?

A few months ago, I came across a pair of pants that I bought and never ended up wearing. They were a little snug, so I figured I would just pass them on to my cousin and have one less thing to move.

When I saw her last month, she had a pair of pants to trade back to me. She got them, but they were a little loose on her. I tried them on and they were a little loose, but the length was perfect. Very unusual for me. I figured with a shirt tucked in, they would be just right. I wore them for the first time yesterday and they were so comfortable. They’re just Dockers… cotton-poly blend. But so comfortable. AND they have two pockets. Awesome!

QOTD (from a real estate listing, obviously): IT’S NOT AS BAD AS YOU MAY THINK-IT’S IN PRETTY GOOD SHAPE**FULLY FENCED YARD & 1 CAR GARAGE**3BDRMS & 3 FULL BATHS**REC ROOM IN LOWER LVL**HOME HAS GREAT POTENTIAL & A GREAT NEIGHBORHOOD!!

LOTD: The best blonde joke ever. Seriously. Read and laugh. Laugh a lot.

I went to the Red Cross Knit and Crochet group last week and was greeted by the former organizer of the group and the new organizer for the group. The new organizer reached into a bag filled with candy canes and handed me one with a blue ribbon tied around it, wishing me a happy Ben Franklin’s birthday. Thanks! “See? It’s red, white, and blue to celebrate Ben Franklin.” Cool!

We sat around for a while doing arts and crafts and making small-talk. Then, she asked if it would be alright with me if we left a few minutes early that evening. There was a special on Ben Franklin on the History Channel that she wanted to watch. Ok, sure. I mean, who doesn’t like Ben Franklin, right?

Then, there was the Saturday TV Funhouse on SNL portraying Ben Franklin taunting his neighbor’s dark, candle-lit house, while Franklin was in his brightly lit house watching TV.

This morning, I was reading a week-old Sunday comics and the mini-pages was dedicated to the topic of, none other than, Benjamin Franklin.

Ok, so what’s up with all the bandwagon Ben Franklin fans of late? It was his 300th birthday a week ago: January 17th. Yeah, so I’m a week behind. Whatever.

I could understand music fans and people who are fans of actors and actresses, but why Franklin? Then, I thought about this and realized that there are plenty of people who are fans of dead people. Celebrities die, but live on through their movies, music, and art. Ben Franklin? Electricity. Ok, so he didn’t “invent” it, or even so much discover it. But he did make use of it. And on his list of inventions: lightning rod, bifocals, Glass Armonica, library chair, swim fins, the long reach device (a.k.a. The Gopher, as seen on TV), Franklin Stove, catheter, and Daylight Savings Time.

Woo! I’m totally on the bandwagon this week. Yay B. Franklin! :)

Ventured off to the post office after work yesterday to buy some stamps. I was originally going to just get some plain, new stamps, but then I found out from the USPS website that their holiday cookie stamps came out last October. My sister already had some, so she said she’d trade with me if I got new stamps.

While running errands last week, the post office was out of new stamps (all the machines, I mean. Not like the entire postal system.), so I picked some up at Office Depot to tide me over. I saw my sister this weekend, but she forgot to bring her stamps. So, instead, I gave the new ones to her and took some holiday ornament stamps from my parents. They apparently over-bought the old stamps.

Anyway, I was in need of 2 cent stamps and new stamps for everyday use, so I went back to the post office to try again. My sister had suggested buying up some of the old 37 cent stamps if they were out of new stamps, so I asked if they had any holiday cookie stamps left. The guy behind the counter said no, so I gave him a sad face. He said he’d check for me… and turned around and picked up a large un-opened package of a hundred 20-stamp books of the holiday cookie stamps. Then he made sure I knew they were the old 37-cent stamps and that new stamps were now up to 39 cents. Yes, yes… I would also like 3 sheets of 2-cent stamps.

Hrm… I should’ve gotten more cookie stamps. I could use them forever. Yay post office!

QOTD from a security person in a serious, working environment:
“Don’t treat me like a child”
…
“Oto Melara? What’s that, a country?”