Blog Archives - Emily.Digital

What I’m Thankful For

Posted on November 14, 2017 | by Emily | Leave a Comment

As the calendar page flips once more to November, it’s time to trot out the list of “what I’m thankful for.” Presumably, the list is brought out because of Thanksgiving. Canada, however, celebrates their Thanksgiving in October, so I would say it’s more of a general “holiday” spirit that brings the list up.

When my mother moves* to have everyone say something they’re thankful for, pre-Thanksgiving Dinner, I will be producing this written list, and reading it aloud.

The return of mom jeans: high-waisted jeans, which are flattering on approximately 35% of the population, bring a sense of comfort
Entrepreneurs: people are solving problems and launching new businesses. Creativity is to be celebrated.
Travel: I can order drinks and start fights in several languages
Netflix: Despite the judgy “are you still there?” pop-ups. It’s worse when you see your reflection in the black screen and you can’t meet your own eyes.
Champagne: bubbles and alcohol make anything palatable; my life’s one long bar exam
Celebrities appointed to academic positions of power: If Sean Spicer can be a Harvard Fellow, then it’s demonstrably true that no matter what I do, there will always be hope for me.
Timehop (or, “On This Day…”): there might be a pizza stain on my sweatpants, but at least I’m not taking blunder-ful teenage photos now. The #glowup is real.
PayPal: my tipsy impulse shopping enabler. Not everyone takes Venmo and it suuuuucks
When there’s one sweater left and it’s in your size: I don’t even feel a little bad about buying it.
The little things: it’s too unwieldy to carry anything larger on the bus.
When your skin looks like it’s been Photoshopped: what’s a “pore?” is that something the plebeians have?
When a celeb replies to your tweet: thank you B-list comic from 1997, your approval of my sense of humor validates me.
Underwear that covers everything it’s supposed to: I’m not dealing with disobedient underpants on top of high heels, budget presentations, and windy city streets
My soul mate is a shade of lipstick: whoever you’re attracted to is probably fine. Humans are nice. My lipstick will remain fixed and flawless and no man will ever make me look as good.
Coupons: Why yes, I want to save $2 on my $5 purchase of Reese’s PB cups. I now have $2 for makeup.

this thanksgiving i'm going to preach my love of cats — What would cat standup routines look like?

When someone you really don’t like runs into a glass door: thunk.
Cat videos: I can watch thousands of hours of other people’s pets without hearing I’m “weird,” or a “loner,” or “hey lady, why are you in my living room?”
Cozy leggings: fleece-lined leggings, and thick cotton or woolen leggings that you wear with literally everything because why put on real pants?
When you finally make it through an entire yoga class without feeling like you’re going to die: joke’s on you, you live in a 2nd story walkup.
George Lucas is no longer involved in the “Star Wars” movies: Episodes IV-VI nailed Joseph Campbell‘s hero archetype, but Episodes I-III are upsettingly terribly written. He tried the revival treatment on Indiana Jones, too, and that was equally as bad. Episodes VII+ can spread their wings.
Freshly-shaved legs: accompanied by the urge to go up to everyone and demand they feel your smooth legs.
When you feel like an after picture: It’s one of the moments when you could dance down the street in a musical number, Rogers and Hammerstein-style
When a story you’re trying to tell is so funny you can’t finish it: incoherent laughter, while your friends start ignoring you
Arms: If you’ve pulled this out as something you’re thankful for, you’re really reaching.
Non-ironic meme participation: I’m finally old enough to discourage teenagers from popular trends, when I decide to participate. It is an awesome and heady power. Dab on the haters!

*My family observes Robert’s Rules of Order. I highly recommend it. Buy a written copy to have on-hand to resolve disputes, like my Dad.

Ciao, bella

venn diagram notebook - my notes are not this neat

Break It Down: Venn Diagram

Posted on November 10, 2017 | by Emily | Leave a Comment

A Venn diagram was probably one of the first introductions you received to the mathematical field of logic. This particular type of diagram shows all possible logical relations between a finite collection of data sets.

The Venn diagrams you constructed in school were likely boring and inane. Nothing about the overlap between the characteristics of your classmates’ shoes, or characters in a piece of literature retained anyone’s interest.

I decided to fix the boring nature of Venn diagrams. This is a decisively good use of my college mathematics courses – the culmination of which was a mathematics minor.

the coffee stain on my shirt is whatever. it’s fine. shh.

past, present and future walk into the bar. it was tense.

Turn down? No! Turn up, I can’t hear it!

If I missed something, or the punchline isn’t clear, ~~drop me a line.~~ I’m not explaining any jokes to you.

This email is off the record unless otherwise indicated

this is bread, not toast, and leaves of unidentified origin

An Argument for Raw Toast

Posted on November 8, 2017 | by Emily | Leave a Comment

Bread is a terrible wedding gift, but pop it in an oven and give an amazing toast.

The debate point of bread being ‘raw toast’ is long since past. The HuffPo did a stunningly in-depth piece on bread being ‘raw toast.’ This alone should indicate that the horse has been beaten, its pockets emptied out, and abandoned by the side of the road.

The question is now how raw can toast be?

I’m absolutely terrible at guessing how long something should be in the toaster oven. I burn everything I put in there. I’ve even set a toaster oven on fire, and singed the cabinet it was attached to. I’m fairly creative when it comes to cooking methods, as I only have a small fridge, hot plate, and toaster oven. I can reheat leftover Chinese takeout in a skillet like a pro. When asked to broil a cheese-laden piece of bread for a jerry-rigged grilled cheese, I freeze up. I hold a B.S.; it really shouldn’t be this difficult.

What compounds my frustration with my toaster oven inabilities is that I hate burned toast. Charred meats, overly crispy vegetables, and crunchy cookies are terrible, but burnt toast makes me want to scream. It’s an absolutely irrational, bitter piece of hatred that will always be a part of me. I prefer my toast barely crisped, just very slightly crunchy. The only indicator that the bread is toasted should be a light golden color and slight resistance when biting down.

Considering my preferences, it’s then that the line between “bread” and “toast” becomes blurred. When does bread become toast? Upon insertion into a toaster (or toaster oven)? After the application of heat? When bread is put into a toaster, and toast comes out – you can’t explain that!

Toast is bread browned by radiant heat, according to quite literally everyone ever. The browning is a result of a Maillard reaction – the reaction alters the flavor of the bread, and makes it firmer. There are many articles about the toasting process – including a novella by The Atlantic – and about the question of how bread becomes toast. My question, however, is regarding the absolute minimum reaction needed to still be qualified as toast.

A Maillard reaction is a form of non-enzymatic browning which typically proceeds rapidly from around 140 to 165 °C (280 to 330 °F). Enzymatic browning requires enzymes and exposure to oxygen. This results in things like browned bananas, or dried fruit like figs and raisins. The Maillard reaction is amino acids reacting with sugars at elevated temperatures. Taking the above range of temperatures as truth – though it is more of a guideline – the logic is that 140°C (280°F) is the lowest temperature at which “toast” is created. (Suck on that, thermodynamic physicists!)

Toasters and toaster ovens often have dials with a 1 – 6 range, or a wheel with “toast,” “broil,” “warm,” marked on it. This is irritatingly non-specific, if one requires precise temperature control for their toast. If there is a knob with temperature on the toaster oven, it may not go all the way to the low 140°C (280°F) setting, forcing one to rely on the judgement of the “toast” setting. Horrifying.

To clarify, I do understand why the dials are they way they are – the dial is simply determining the current sent through the heating coils to produce a certain amount of heat, which definitively does not correspond to a temp. Putting a temperature feedback loop in the main cavity costs money, and I like my cheap goods!

I demand temperature accountability for my toast. We, the non-burned-toast-lovers, need fine temperature control. I don’t want a hint of grill marks, scorch, or char. The toast should be so raw that it could be described in song as amber waves of grain! Raw toast forever!

Be well in peace, always yrs

Emily.Digital is a participant in the Amazon Services LLC Associates Program, an affiliate advertising program designed to provide a means for sites to earn advertising fees by advertising and linking to amazon.com. Amazon, the Amazon logo, AmazonSupply, and the AmazonSupply logo are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc. or its affiliates.

doomsday live there there's no tomorrow, am i rite?

Doomsday Prepping: Pack The Bugout Bag!

Posted on November 5, 2017 | by Emily | Leave a Comment

There’s a tiny piece of me that believes the end of the world will be marked by a Zombie outbreak.

Zombie outbreaks and real-life Zombie diseases have been extensively written about. In the most rational part of my mind, I understand a Zombie outbreak cannot happen. The rest of me watches commuters on the 8AM bus; I’m fairly certain we’re not far off from Zombies already.

There are entrenched societal beliefs that the universe will come to an end. Many theories exist on how this will happen. These theories range from Christ’s second coming, to Heat Death (The Big Freeze), or perhaps the End Times have come and gone. One thing I know that will remain, despite the pending collapse of the natural world, are my government-issued student loans. I’m certain Sallie Mae will have me working the nigh shift to pay off post-apocalypse loans.

There is a subset of people who believe in an apocalyptic scenario, and they seem to over-enthusiastically prepare for End Times. It can provide great entertainment to rubberneck at these “preppers;” there was, at one time, a television show on the topic, called Doomsday Preppers. These doomsday “preppers” purchase kits for outfitting bunkers with food and supplies. Manuals exist on how to survive and thrive in a post-apocalyptic world. Blog posts have been created on how to repurpose household items for survival purposes. There are even coloring pages introduce the topic at a young age!

In the vein of the coloring page I released, I would like to introduce the best tchotchkes to include in a bugout bag. After all, there’s no time like the present to start your doomsday prepping – pack like there’s no tomorrow!

Recommended List of Bugout Bag Items:

Highlighter-Yellow Backpack

This will make you easy to spot for miles around! Friends or foes can find you through a dimly-lit forest. No worries; you’re just signaling that you have plenty of stuff to share.

Large Machete

You will need a sharp item to cut through brush, or kill your food. Be sure the knife is as large as possible for maximum effectiveness; everyone will know you’re not one to be messed with. A small blade would not allow you to defend yourself properly [against Zombies].

Gallon Water Jugs

Don’t fuss with a water purification system. Those have chemicals in them; there’s even concerns about those systems’ effects on the sexuality of amphibians. Not only will carrying full gallon jugs protect our amphibian friends, it will tone your arms, too.

Gold Coins or Bars

In the event of total economic collapse, paper money will be worthless. Gold will be the only useful currency. It’s too solid to be damaged, like paper, and it will be in high demand when it comes time to forge wedding rings for those post-apocalyptic nuptials.

Painkillers

The idiom “take two Tylenol and call me in the morning” exists for a reason. There’s no need for kits with gauze, tape, and antihistamines – they just take up too much space. A Ziploc with some Advil or Aleve is all you need! Besides, if you need more than a simple pain reliever, the Zombies will make a quick end to you anyway, eliminating the need for more advanced medical care.

Blow Torch

Matches can get wet, and lighters are too small. A blow torch can start a fire quickly, and your fuel will be readily accessible. In the event of damp clothing, quickly dry it by aiming the blow torch carefully to evaporate the water – two uses for the price of one.

Metal Stock Pot

At some point you will need to cook a meal, and you’ll have to do it on a stove – microwaves probably won’t have any power after global EMPs. Have a solid cooking pot into which you can put all your food. It also doubles as a helmet!

Phone/Tablet

There’s no need to carry bulky maps or compasses – the GPS on a phone will be able to pinpoint your location. Make sure you also have a charger with you – maybe two. For additional power, it is prudent to have external batteries with you. Of course, in the event of an EMP, this advice is worthless.

Food

Don’t worry too much about packing food, as plants and animals will be readily available. If you choose to pack food items, be sure to pack high-nutrient items, like avocados, lean proteins such as turkey or pork tenderloin, and beans. For convenience, consider packing canned items. You only need a small donkey to aid you here. Otherwise, you’ll need to be plant-wise to feed yourself. If you come across a plant and you’re unsure if it’s safe to eat, chew a portion of it slowly – you have pain killers in case something goes wrong.

Including all of these items fills up a bugout bag quickly. Fortunately, you will be able to loot and barter for supplies. If you don’t have everything on this list, don’t worry. This list is designed for Joe and Jane Everyday; people just like you and me. There might be other recommendations out there with labels stating “serious preppers only;” don’t be confused if these lists don’t match.

If there’s any Apocalypse prepping you feel I missed, drop me a line on Twitter!

Please consider the environment before printing this e-mail

Disclaimer: some of these links are to Amazon products. I am a participant in the Amazon Services LLC Associates Program, an affiliate advertising program designed to provide a means for sites to earn advertising fees by advertising and linking to Amazon.com

Boston is pretty dope or to use a local idiom - my boston accent is wicked awesome

Screw – I Love My Boston Accent

Posted on November 3, 2017 | by Emily | Leave a Comment

“Pahk the cah in Hah-vahd Yahd!” That’s a felony, ya dingus.

When my brother and I have a few drinks, we begin shouting quotes from The Departed at each other in outlandish Boston accents. Truly abhorrent “I’m nahwt a cawp!” impressions and riffs fly free. If we aren’t in the same room, or even in the same state, it isn’t weird to receive a text that reads “I’m nawht a cawp!” or as close as autocorrect will let us type. It’s this type of easy mockery that has made Boston a laugh-fest for anyone who has ever heard the accent.

New England, as a whole, has an idiosyncratic way of speaking, but Boston, I contend, has the most distinctive linguistic characteristics. The Boston accent was created by a confluence of Puritan settlers (east Anglican) eventual Irish immigrants, and later, Italian immigrants. Of course, many other nations added their own unique ingredients to the linguistic soup du jour in the area. Still, Boston continues to retain, amazingly, some of the British pronunciations that came over with the first wave of settlers.

The Boston accent can be summed up by three distinct traits: non-rhotic, vowels, and consonants. We drop the ‘r’s, blend our vowels into one indistinct sound, and swallow our consonants instead of pronouncing them. In true Yankee fashion, we do re-use the ‘r’s that we drop – or quasi-pronounce, such as the word ‘corn’ becoming ‘cawn.’ Those ‘r’s reappear at the end of words ending with a vowel that are then succeeded by a word beginning with a vowel. To demonstrate: “the tuner [tuna] is…” or “write in your agender [agenda] and…”.

the grasshopper that flies over Faneuil Hall has a Boston Accent too — The grasshopper that flies over Faneuil Hall has a Boston accent too

Neighborhoods within Boston – and the surrounding suburbs – stand out in the way they speak as well. To someone outside Boston, the accent will sound the same, regardless of the sepaker’s origin. The North Shore – Lynn, Peabody, Gloucester, etc – has an Italian influence, while the South Shore – Braintree, Quincy, Duxbury, Plymouth, etc – has a thick Irish influence and the stereotypical Boston accent. That same South Shore (pronounced ‘Sou-hShore,’ all one word) way of speaking is what Hollywood often uses as the Boston accent; masterful examples of this are The Departed and Julianne Moore in 30 Rock.

On top of the Bostonian mush-mouthed speech, we also keep a long list of townie slang – indecipherable to the listener who was raised outside of Massachusetts. Boston holds a number of double standards about the way names of locations are pronounced, such as Gloucester, Dorchester, and Worcester, all of which are spoken differently. It’s these bizarre, incoherent conventions that have shaped my perspective, and I would not change it one bit.

A long-standing tradition in observational comedy is riffing on local accents or pronunciations; it’s a shtick that works well. There are some phenomenal routines based on linguistic differences all across the globe. I was recently listening to a podcast in which the presenter went on a tirade about Australian city names. The short of it is that Aussies tend to hold double standards on the pronunciation of stressed consonants, and they drop their ‘r’s, akin to Boston.

The Australian city of Melbourne is not pronounced “mell-borne,” but rather “mell-bin,” or as near as one can write the pronunciation out without resorting to IPA symbols. The capital city of Australia, Canberra, is not pronounced “can-berr-rah,” it’s pronounced “ken-breh.” The podcast was amusing – cultural differences are always funny – but not hilarious. These pronunciations are sensible! I’m on your side, Australia – our accents may be ridiculous, but at least we stand out from the crowd.

Even though I embrace the Boston accent and quirks, I am well aware of its ridiculousness.

We pick up liquor at the packie (package store), and it’s cash only for a scratchie (scratch-off lottery ticket). To pick a fight, we end our statement with “Ya wanna go?” i.e., “You want to go outside and fight?” The number after thirty-nine is fah-ddy (forty). Calling someone kehd (kid) is a term of affection. Never take the Pike (Massachusetts Turnpike, or Masspike) to the Pru (The Prudential Center) – it’s a terrible exit. Literally zero people have ever used a blinkeh (blinker/turn signal) on Massave (Massachusetts Avenue) or Commave (Commonwealth Avenue). My friend said she loved the Tam (popular dive bar), So don’t I? (I do too!). A cop told a bunch of kids hanging on the corner to screw (Get out of here, leave).

A Boston perspective on language, and how malleable the English language can be, is awesome. I do my best to sound like a nondescript American when I speak, but sometimes the Boston shows up. If you people-watch on the Common, the way I speak won’t sound weird. I’ll see if I can’t get it fixed, but I’m not real worried.

Until next time, with friendly thanks

Don’t Wring Your Hand[-me-down]s

Posted on November 1, 2017 | by Emily | Leave a Comment

At least 40% of the items I own are hand-me-downs, and I love it.

In Boston, there is something called “Allston Christmas.” This refers to a period of days leading up to September 1st, the day on which most Boston leases begin. Items are shuffled out of residences to make way for people moving in and out. The sidewalks are littered with furniture, appliances, clothes, and odds-and-ends. Some items will make it into their intended moving trucks, some will be packed into groaning cars. The end result is seen a treasure trove of items abandoned on the side of the road. Boston becomes a giant, unofficial flea market.

Allston Christmas is a bizarre bazaar, a paradoxical acceptance of re-purposing and hand-me-downs, and the casual discarding of inconvenient items. I once found an awesome steam mop, and a giant bag of pennies. Literal free money.

I have moved 7 times in the last 7 years. Moving everything I own so many times in the last few years is a literal pain in my side. I’ve considered selling everything and moving into a hostel. Ultimately I kept my lot, and shuffled it from one end of Boston to the other. I get it – there’s a host of reasons to get rid of things, especially when you move. I’ve been there.

When I moved out on my own, I learned the hard lesson that my single, poor, self would not have the same standard of living as my established, dual-income parents. I thought once I had my own place, I could go nuts and decorate it just like I wanted, and as re-do it as often as I wanted. That’s what TV and the internet said would happen, and they never lie! Turns out that decorating is expensive, even if you’re a shrewd Marshall’s shopper. I have learned to embrace hand-me-downs, and to enjoy the fact that I don’t have to deal with all the expense and decision-making that comes with re-decorating.

Hand-me-downs seem to be an incredibly divisive topic. One camp embraces the practice, and the other eschews it. For example, there are not many eight-year-olds that want to wear their older sibling’s cast-off jeans. A child turning up his nose at a hand-me-down is understandable. The parent, in that scenario, understands that clothing kids can be an expensive process, and re-using a pair of jeans can be a godsend. Flash forward to adulthood, and some people still hold on to that mentality – they want something new, not something previously used. Another might, with equanimity, embrace a hand-me-down phone.

No one blinks if you mention upgrading an electronic gadget. If a new device has just come out, well then there’s no sense in holding on to the old one, right? When a new sneaker line drops, a queue will wrap around the block for the launch, though those folks likely own several dozen pairs already. If an appliance breaks, no one will judge you for just buying a new one – repairing becomes a distant second thought. There is an element of truth to upgrading; items are not built to last indefinitely. Bust when repair is possible, that’s when it’s a great time to embrace the hand-me-down mentality.

Not only is it economical to have secondhand goods, it’s environmentally sound. Less material is put into landfills, and the earth is stripped of fewer resources. The bed frame that I’ve transported from one apartment to the next has incurred fractional monetary and environmental costs in gas, but has saved the manufacturing and transport costs of new bed frames each time I’ve moved. Passing a smartphone from one person to another means that the rare earth metals and plastic won’t sit in a landfill for the next few thousand years. Going through my friends’ closets to source an outfit is cheaper than buying a new one, and means I’m not buying stuff I just don’t need.

I would like, for a moment, to empathize with those who avoid hand-me-downs. There is something a little magical about getting something new. I love it when I get a new game, or new jewelry. Perhaps not possessing hand-me-downs is a personal triumph – it can mean someone is (perhaps) climbing the socioeconomic ladder. I won’t bash that person for a moment, since the thrill of achievement, and the hard work it took to get there, sometimes is as well-deserved as the new shoes/vacuum cleaner/phone. In that sense, I applaud them.

On the whole, I think it’s time to accept and embrace hand-me-downs. Scale down waste, look out for others, and enjoy what you have. Secondhand stuff is nothing to sneeze at; be glad you have anything at all.

Thanking you in anticipation

who tf is wearing long sleeves at a party

51 Reasons I Can’t Go Out Tonight

Posted on October 30, 2017 | by Emily | 4 Comments

If you don’t want to, or can’t, go out, it’s only polite to offer up a reason.

Between school, work, and half-baked brunch plans, we’ve all needed to, at one time or another, wriggle out of an obligation. Regardless of whether the cancellation is legitimate or flaky, it is sometimes necessary to justify one’s absence. The ‘Sorry, I’m sick,’ and ‘Family emergency’ excuses are so overused that despite any possible truth behind the justification, it invites doubt. A little creativity goes a long way towards smoothing over potential issues. The reasons listed below can be applied to almost any situation – but the use of each needs to be sold. Convey your regrets sincerely and firmly, and do not offer follow-up information. Good luck, and Godspeed.

Sorry, I made other plans.
I will be unreachable at that time.
Per your last email, I do not offer this service any longer.
I just saw a photo of [handsome celebrity] and I need to lie down.
I have some personal issues. Make gestures implying menstruation.
Uber surge prices are crazy right now.
I ate a burrito and now I cannot move.
My beliefs mandate strict silence on that day.
I’m too upset about CNN’s latest article.
I already took my bra off.
I need to reevaluate my stain-fighting methods.
There are children starving in Africa.
I’m giving up alcohol for the month.
I have a think tank meeting.
I’m not fit to be seen in public.
Baby powder is linked to ovarian cancer and I’m entitled to financial compensation.
I don’t know where my phone is.
Nancy Reagan would want me to make smart choices
I said “you too,” when the ticket person said “enjoy your movie.”
Crying, indistinct mumbling, wild gesturing
DARE told me not to.
My horoscope says otherwise.
Just send me the notes.
I need to source new vintage clothing.
WebMD says I’m contagious.
There is a dog asleep on me.
I need an early start on Christmas shopping.
Did the pope’s claim to primacy cause the western Catholic and Eastern Orthodox schisms?
With this weather?
The first day of a period is always the hardest.
I promised to help my friends move.
My Roomba trashed my apartment.
Kanye. Shrug
Anything I say or do may be used against me in a court of law.
I need to finish up the bananas I bought a couple days ago before they go bad.
My last date went terribly.
I’m working on my bucket list.
Did you ever hear the tragedy of Darth Plagueis The Wise? I thought not. It’s not a story the Jedi would tell you.
I don’t want to embarrass you.
Think of the children!
I am a sovereign citizen.
I’m not sure about my workload right now.
My fridge needs to be cleaned out.
I need to do damage control.
I’m doing my civic duty.
Have you seen the crime statistics?
My phone is on 5%.
I’m channeling my inner Julia Child.
I need ‘me time.’
I do not recognize your authority.
I’m not sure where the beef is.
What happens when you cross a pun with a rhetorical question?

+1. There’s moderate to severe delays due to signal problems at Kendall station.

Veuillez recevoir, Madame, mes sincères salutations

i've done this exact thing, so no judgement

Ultimate Guide to Troubleshooting Anything

Posted on October 18, 2017 | by Emily | Leave a Comment

Troubleshooting doesn’t have to be scary. Having issues with your phone? Dishwasher? Intern? Never fear – I have the solution. Follow these steps exactly and I guarantee a fix.

Stare at the offending item. Let your eyes bore holes into its depths. Silently communicate your vast and unending disappointment with its failure.
State the issue out loud. “This phone is not connecting to outside lines.” Perhaps the item was not aware of the issue. Unless it is a lazy person – they always know, they just don’t care.
Declare why this is a problem. “If the report came in on time, the meeting would have been more productive.” This may solve issues with personnel – but the stapler may not care.
Turn it off and on again. This is a common phrase thrown around in IT forums, because it works. Depending on the item, this can require some creativity. For coworkers, it is recommended you place a 5-minute moratorium on conversation. With a water bottle, it is recommended to unscrew then refasten the lid. Pens provide a challenge; the recommendation is scribbling on a Post-It like a lunatic.
Examine the item to see if all lights are on. Sometimes the light is on, but no one is home.
Ensure that everything that should be plugged in is plugged in. Offer coffee to the item, if there are no cables to plug in.
Take two deep breaths, and silently count to five, while looking at the ceiling. Mentally pack a suitcase to run away with.
Check for updates. If there are several iterations of a meeting agenda circulating, it is guaranteed that at least three people will not have the correct one.
Check for conflicts. It may be that there is something not allowing the item to function properly. Resolve issue by removing conflicting program, item, or element. This may require a new loop through the troubleshooting.
Begin percussive maintenance. Apply the flat of your hand, or side of your fist as appropriate. Exert moderate force and repeatedly strike to jar item back into alignment. This step not recommended for fragile items. [Editor’s Note: step also not recommended for living items.]
If an error message occurs, take note. The message may have helpful information on what went wrong, and how to fix it. If the error message is just incomprehensible sobbing, offer the item a drink.
Google keywords. Input relevant words – “exhaustion” “office decor” “iphone not charging” or “dishwasher gaining sentience.” Be as specific as possible; put in make, model, year, or serial number as appropriate.
Delegate responsibility. It may be that the item should be fixed with someone with a more specific skill set, and that’s okay. Due diligence was done when you did troubleshooting.
1. Customer service. Wait on hold as you are told repeatedly that your call is very important, and the representative will be with you as soon as they can. This may increase your frustration, and require repetition of steps one and seven. When you do get ahold of a real person, they probably have a script to follow, again requiring repetition of steps one and seven.
Take a lap. The problem has been fixed, is being fixed, or is unfixable and the item requires replacement. You can breathe now. And filch the chocolate hidden in your coworker’s desk. No judgement.

Kindest regards, sincerely yours

how can I make this into $SHOP?! A soapbox thought

Soapboxing is Dumb, Let’s Reconsider

Posted on October 11, 2017 | by Emily | Leave a Comment

soap·box: ˈsōpˌbäks/ noun a box or crate used as a makeshift stand by a public speaker.

The action of getting up on one’s soapbox (to soapbox [v.]) is someone with a strong idea, needing to share it in the moment, finds something to stand on. Often the impromptu platform for soapboxing was that of its name sake – a crate used for shipping soap. Soapboxes were a key component of street oratory; sidewalk speakers who were holding meetings or making speeches needed to put themselves above the crowd to be seen and heard. This also created controversy: it pitted public order against the freedom of anyone to speak out loud. It also set up “rival” soapboxers – someone who would be there to offer opposing opinions. Skilled speakers had to be quick on their feet, loud, and armed with wit.

Social media affords us the opportunity to hop up on our soapbox without abandon; clamoring and unfiltered. For better or worse, we’ve enabled opinions to be shared with everyone around the globe. ~~World leaders~~ celebrities and Joe-off-the-street can hop online and broadcast their feelings with three taps of a finger and 140 (or 280) characters. It’s simultaneously an wonderful resource, and a horrifying insight into others’ lives. I can know exactly what skincare routine my favorite B-list sci-fi celebrity utilizes, and also know how my coworker feels about their customers.

I think that this could be made so much better. I propose the idea of soapboxing be taken literally. Boxing is just two people, generally wearing protective gloves, throwing punches for a predetermined time in a boxing ring. Soapboxing would be boxing, but involving the usage or application of soap and also public speaking. If someone has an opinion and would like to speak on it, they need to arm themselves with bars of soap, and start throwing punches while talking. Fists clenched tightly around the Irish Spring bar, and shouting their outlook on corn futures in relation to $SHOP shorting. If there is someone with an opposing idea, they also ought to take up soap and begin swinging.

I’m aware this idea needs some polishing, and I’m open to suggestions. Perhaps there’s the caveat that your feet must remain on a literal soapbox while punching? Maybe the actual soap boxes themselves should be used as the weapons. Or even the boxing ring could be soap-coated, and the contest is to stay upright while also communicating your ideas. Though that may be heading towards mud wrestling. We’ll muddle through the fine details on that later.

There is progress to be made in getting up on a soapbox, and we’re the ones who have to figure it out. Social media has been a step up, but we can’t take a soapbox at face value. We need to have soap and faith – cry havoc and let slip the soapbox of war.

With greatest esteem and respect I am, dear sir, your most obedient and most humble servant

“I’ve ‘Matthew McConaughey’-ed Twice at Work Now, What Do I Do?” How to Recover From “Alright, Alright, Alright.”

Posted on October 10, 2017 | by Emily | Leave a Comment

When your joke falls flat, your reaction will determine how well you sleep that night.

I get it; I am the queen of both impulsive decisions and terrible jokes. That is, jokes that are quintessential “dad” humor, and jokes that are poorly constructed. It can be an absolutely disastrous combination.

My family prizes humor – my father often says his dream job would have been to sit around and come up with one-liners. Growing up, this meant that any discussion our family had was punctuated with dumb puns, pop culture jabs and M*A*S*H-style spoofs. When a joke didn’t land, it would be brushed off. There was no harm in testing new material or reaching for the subject matter; the worst someone would do was blow a raspberry and boo a little. While this meant that I had a completely awesome and supportive environment, it also meant that I gave into my predisposition to just blurt out the first thing that came to mind.

To sketch a framework of (horrifying) things that have come out of my mouth in a professional or formal setting:

Tim, the really nice HR guy: “Ooh, coffee. I need another cup. You like it black?”

Myself: “Yep, as black as my soul.”

Ross, my manager: “Jesus, Emily.”

(I was then forbidden from speaking to corporate unsupervised)

Another time –

Coworker picking up the phone: “Good morning-“

Myself: “VIETNAM!”

(I’m not allowed to say this in the office any more)

To finish this up –

Global Entry Officer conducting my interview: “Right, so anyone traveling in your party without enrolling in this program will not be able to go through the PreCheck line, they-“

Myself: “Yep, they’ll have to go through the peon line.”

(He gave me the hairy eyeball, but I ultimately was approved for the program)

This is not an exhaustive list by any stretch of the imagination. There’s a great deal of tiny interactions I’m sure I’ve forgotten that involved stupid puns, or knock-knock jokes with terrible punchlines, etc, etc.

The point being is that I had to learn the hard way to roll with the failures. If I didn’t, I would be miserable constantly. I would be doubting every fifth word coming out of my mouth and tossing and turning at night reliving all of the awkward moments I had placed myself in from the moment I could speak until the time I walked out of the office that day. A small chuckle, maybe a self-deprecating comment and a smile goes a long way toward smoothing any ruffled feathers or awkward silence or looks. It doesn’t have to be perfect – I’m certainly not claiming to be – but it’s critical to be able to roll with anything. Even if the roll is a Nat 1.

Regarding the Matthew McConaughey impression that brought you here: please evaluate why you’ve said “alright alright alright” twice in a single day. Then, embrace the McConaissance and begin perfecting your drawl. Only take on rom-coms until you decide to shed your surfer life and become a dramatic actor. Youths these days, man, I get older, they stay the same age. Or something like that.

Category: Blog