I ride the train to work now. The best part of my daily trip back and forth to the office is admiring all the "artwork" displayed on the adjourning walls that line the railroad tracks.
You gotta admit, gangsters have pretty handwriting.
As we whistle our way down the tracks, I try to read my local gangster news update, posted on their wall (kinda like on facebook.....wait was facebook created by gangsters??????????) . I, of course, don't understand gangster language as most of it is written in some form of acronym code...and I am sure if I did actually know what the signs and letters meant, I would be disgusted.
However, I always try to think the best of everything, and therefore I come up with my own translation of the curvy, colorful letters that whiz by my train window.
Here is what I "translated" today. By the way, if you are an actual gangster (because, of course, I am sure my blog is read by the most afluent gangsters) and these next couple translations aren't what you meant....send my a complaint lettter.
And pull your pants up.
Gangster's wall post: BFRWOER $*@&$&@!!!$$#*$&@! Death
My translation: Best Friends R Wonderful Only Everywhere Radical. Flowers, Rainbows, Sunshine......Death (okay, I really don't know how to translate a gangster word if they actually write out the entire word in English.)
Gangster's wall post: GRWIOQ ::Peace Sign crossed out::: :::Heart:: :::Random blob on wall:::
My translation: Great Rain Will Ink On Quietly. :::I heart Peace::: :::See, I drew a heart:::: :::Freudian Ink Blotch...I want to be a psychiatrist when I put down this spray paint can:::::
My train rides are full of great reads. Forget books or newspapers, I read gangster literature.
Friday, July 2, 2010
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
I'm sorry about not doing the heavy lifting on this one...i have an old computer-related injury
A while back, I was volunteering at a food distribution center. My assignment was to move boxes from the trucks to the "box-opener" people. One of my fellow recruits declined from this very noble task, "due to an old video-game injury."
I had laughed when he had told me this. I mean, really?!?!?! Our ancesters worked 10-hour days in the hot, 100-degrees sun. They plowed with nothing but an old mule, a wooden plow, and hard rocky soil. Their injuries included kicked-in knee-caps from their stubborn mules; sore, blistery hands; misaligned backs; and poor nutritient-feed, worn-out bodies. They didn't have "video-gamer" thumbs. This fellow food-bank volunteer was a whimp in my eyes.
Until last week.
I got a kink in my neck from leaning in towards my screen all day. I had to put bengay on my sore shoulder.....that had moved a two-ounce plastic mouse over a half-foot radius all day. I now have a "computer-related injury."
Unfortunately, I can't boast about my wounds. No one wants to hear the story behind the kinked neck when it involves starting at a dimly lit screen looking at mice and men....(Yes, that is what I do all day- read previous posts for explanations).
I need to get better injuries so I can have better stories. I want to talk about "mule-related injuries." Those are the good ones. They involve blood and gore. Not whiskers and tails.
Anyone got any fields to plow? A mule I can borrow?
I had laughed when he had told me this. I mean, really?!?!?! Our ancesters worked 10-hour days in the hot, 100-degrees sun. They plowed with nothing but an old mule, a wooden plow, and hard rocky soil. Their injuries included kicked-in knee-caps from their stubborn mules; sore, blistery hands; misaligned backs; and poor nutritient-feed, worn-out bodies. They didn't have "video-gamer" thumbs. This fellow food-bank volunteer was a whimp in my eyes.
Until last week.
I got a kink in my neck from leaning in towards my screen all day. I had to put bengay on my sore shoulder.....that had moved a two-ounce plastic mouse over a half-foot radius all day. I now have a "computer-related injury."
Unfortunately, I can't boast about my wounds. No one wants to hear the story behind the kinked neck when it involves starting at a dimly lit screen looking at mice and men....(Yes, that is what I do all day- read previous posts for explanations).
I need to get better injuries so I can have better stories. I want to talk about "mule-related injuries." Those are the good ones. They involve blood and gore. Not whiskers and tails.
Anyone got any fields to plow? A mule I can borrow?
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
I have become a surgeon of lines
There are many lines in life.
There are lines at Starbucks, lines for the most anticipated movie of the year, lines you cross when you make a dirty joke, "please stand behind the yellow" lines, and at my job there are "self-coloring lines." I have determined that if one line was to make me go mad- it would be those silly lime-green lines that make me have to make decisions like..."Is that the jacket, the ear, or the fishing pole?"
For the past two days, I have been working on a scene consisting of a person in a fishing outfit. There are many components to this outfit, including that endearing little fishing rod with it's even more endearing fishing line. (Yes, that's right, yet another line.) The problem has been that the fishing rod has no separation from the rest of the character. What does that mean? I have become a surgeon of lines.
Oh I know, if that's the worst thing to complain about-I've got it pretty good. However, do you know what it's like to "mouse-draw" (meaning using a computer mouse, not actually use a real-live mouse, which would make my job a lot more fun and interesting) every single millimeter of a fishing pole????
Just think, Fishing is not very exciting of a sport, now imagine - not even gettting to fish, but drawing the straight (yet very crookedly drawn by the original artist) fishing line about 54 times...that's right- I counted how many poles I drew. All the while I drew I sang that old song from down south, "You'll get a line, and I'll get a pole, and we'll go down to the crawfish hole!"
Tomorrow, i get to go back in and start my next profession - dentistry meets barbery. I get to discete where this character's mustache intersects with his teeth, which ironically are only a couple shades different from the next.
I kinda want to go fishing now.
There are lines at Starbucks, lines for the most anticipated movie of the year, lines you cross when you make a dirty joke, "please stand behind the yellow" lines, and at my job there are "self-coloring lines." I have determined that if one line was to make me go mad- it would be those silly lime-green lines that make me have to make decisions like..."Is that the jacket, the ear, or the fishing pole?"
For the past two days, I have been working on a scene consisting of a person in a fishing outfit. There are many components to this outfit, including that endearing little fishing rod with it's even more endearing fishing line. (Yes, that's right, yet another line.) The problem has been that the fishing rod has no separation from the rest of the character. What does that mean? I have become a surgeon of lines.
Oh I know, if that's the worst thing to complain about-I've got it pretty good. However, do you know what it's like to "mouse-draw" (meaning using a computer mouse, not actually use a real-live mouse, which would make my job a lot more fun and interesting) every single millimeter of a fishing pole????
Just think, Fishing is not very exciting of a sport, now imagine - not even gettting to fish, but drawing the straight (yet very crookedly drawn by the original artist) fishing line about 54 times...that's right- I counted how many poles I drew. All the while I drew I sang that old song from down south, "You'll get a line, and I'll get a pole, and we'll go down to the crawfish hole!"
Tomorrow, i get to go back in and start my next profession - dentistry meets barbery. I get to discete where this character's mustache intersects with his teeth, which ironically are only a couple shades different from the next.
I kinda want to go fishing now.
Monday, June 28, 2010
The not-so-clean Pine-sol Deception
It is 8:22 p.m. when I write this. I don't have much time. I risk much in documenting my findings. They are coming.
Okay, so I am not in great danger. However, I have always wanted to write like my life depended on it. Or maybe the lives of many others. Alas, my work really only saves the sensory organs of my family. That's right, my only spy work happened in my brother's room. Yes. It smells- of the great Pinesol deception.
Allow me to explain. Go back to yesterday. My mother confronted my brother on the odious smells emerging from his room. We aren't really sure when his bed sheets/clothes/trash were last....taken care of. There is great reminiscing of the great clean up in 2008- but there has been a build-up of who-knows-where-that-smell-is-coming-from ever since and the city has been threatening to evacuate the place for a scientific study of the grossness (all for medical safety of course). My mother pleaded, begged even, that he do a thorough clean-up.
He turned and walked into his room and shut the door. No one knew what was going to happen. We were all holding our breath (mostly because of the smell). Today, I walked by his doorway and smelled Pine-sol. Had he actually cleaned? Was this a sign of true change? Was the human race no longer at risk???
Upon a stealth operation, known only to a special few as "Tarawoza," (an Indian name meaning "only a few have lived who have smelled this") I snuck in (risking my life, and my nasal passages health) and looked to see what had happened.
Turns out- he hadn't done anything EXCEPT pour Pine-sol in a drinking glass and placed it on his desk. The bed was still unmade, the clothes still rotting in their messy pile on the floor, and that unknown disaster still lied under the bed. BUT- the smell was masked with the one true cleaner that reminds one of freshly cleaned floors and counters. You could say that this filthyness of a sin was covered up by cleanliness. A philosopher might ask....does Pine-sol cover a multitude of.....sins/odors??? As my mother is blind, she assumed the problem was fixed.
I don't know whether to call my brother a deciever...or a genius. I may never have to clean my room again, granted that I have Pine-sol and a glass.
I would turn him in....but I can use this. I believe that I shall save this "tattle" for a rainy day.
Excuse, I must find where he put the Pine-sol.
Okay, so I am not in great danger. However, I have always wanted to write like my life depended on it. Or maybe the lives of many others. Alas, my work really only saves the sensory organs of my family. That's right, my only spy work happened in my brother's room. Yes. It smells- of the great Pinesol deception.
Allow me to explain. Go back to yesterday. My mother confronted my brother on the odious smells emerging from his room. We aren't really sure when his bed sheets/clothes/trash were last....taken care of. There is great reminiscing of the great clean up in 2008- but there has been a build-up of who-knows-where-that-smell-is-coming-from ever since and the city has been threatening to evacuate the place for a scientific study of the grossness (all for medical safety of course). My mother pleaded, begged even, that he do a thorough clean-up.
He turned and walked into his room and shut the door. No one knew what was going to happen. We were all holding our breath (mostly because of the smell). Today, I walked by his doorway and smelled Pine-sol. Had he actually cleaned? Was this a sign of true change? Was the human race no longer at risk???
Upon a stealth operation, known only to a special few as "Tarawoza," (an Indian name meaning "only a few have lived who have smelled this") I snuck in (risking my life, and my nasal passages health) and looked to see what had happened.
Turns out- he hadn't done anything EXCEPT pour Pine-sol in a drinking glass and placed it on his desk. The bed was still unmade, the clothes still rotting in their messy pile on the floor, and that unknown disaster still lied under the bed. BUT- the smell was masked with the one true cleaner that reminds one of freshly cleaned floors and counters. You could say that this filthyness of a sin was covered up by cleanliness. A philosopher might ask....does Pine-sol cover a multitude of.....sins/odors??? As my mother is blind, she assumed the problem was fixed.
I don't know whether to call my brother a deciever...or a genius. I may never have to clean my room again, granted that I have Pine-sol and a glass.
I would turn him in....but I can use this. I believe that I shall save this "tattle" for a rainy day.
Excuse, I must find where he put the Pine-sol.
Saturday, June 26, 2010
The Canadian/French manual to cat whiskers and mouse ears: by Emily Philpot
You know the old saying, "I learned everything I need to know for life in Kindergarten." Well, that saying definitely applies to my new line of work. Coloring. Essentially, my new job abides by one key rule....stay within the lines!!!!
I was recently hired at a small animation company in L.A. My new job is in the ink and paint department where we color and edit hundreds and hundreds of frames for the animation department. My exact title at this company? Well, I waiver between calling myself an "inker" (not to be confused with stinker) an animation assitant, or a digital painter.
For those who follow my blog even occasionally may know thatI just graduated from college. Every new graduate knows that your first job is pretty important in setting the stage for your future career. Your salary history counter starts ticking, you break in your power heels and you learn to navigate the corporate world. For me...I stand armed with my colors and magic mouse (the Apple wireless mouse- not Mickey mouse or Mighty mouse or whatever mutant mouse would be magic...because that's just creepy) , ready to face "the man." Sure, I didn't picture starting out as an "ink and painter," but I never knew how fun this job could be.
What is my job like? First, you are assigned a scene that holds anywhere from three to 40 feet of frames. Each frame has to be colored individually. Just to explain - a frame is a picture of whatever cartoon is moving at the time. Each frame changes their postion slightly to give the idea of motion. Think of a flipbook. I have to color every page of that flipbook. Sounds easy enough.
Did I mention that I never really enjoyed coloring as a child? Coloring books were not as interesting as playing "house" outside. When I did color as a kid, I also never believed in finishing a page. The idea was to scribble enough color on the page to get the general idea and move on. Most of the drawings I did as a kid were....abstract and modern. Even if it was supposed to be a drawing of an elephant - it always looked like a painting someone did while high on crack (though in my case as a three year old, it was probably more like large amounts of sugary candy) and looked more like a grey wall of circles and dots with a florish of random blue lines zigging around the poor elephant's ears. Oh if I could only write a letter to me and warn little three year old me of the imporance of choosing colors and closing gaps.
My work is more difficult than just getting out crayons and "being inspired." The problem begins with the actual animation software. It's written by a Canadian/French company. Which means even if there was a manual (which of course there isn't) it would be in Canadian French. Better yet, even if this magical manual did indeed exist it would be like this...
::Pretend this next section is in snobby French:::
Oh yes, so to color your seemly simple sketch of a mouse(P.s. our company has created several cartoon characters that are mice) first you must stare at the screen for twenty minutes looking for impossibly invisible gaps between lines. We did this just to be snobby. Your life of precious minutes is not important to us. We invented the Canadian bacon (how we can turn pigs into Canadian citizens are beyond us...but still-we did it and you eat it) after all and are therefore better than you ::sniff::
We did not think that you should be able to just click on the section you want colored (say you want to color the mouse's jacket or shirt collar) a certain way. If even a molecule of space exists between separation lines...you will not be able to do anything. We created this program for the sole purpose of laughing at you. You are stupid. ::sniff::
Once you have closed the gap between separation lines, you will be allowed to color. But of course, you must click 1o different buttons hidden under buttons that have nothing to do with what you want to do. If you want to paint one of the lines that outline the character, you cannot just click "paint"- you have to click "repaint" even if you have never painted it before -you are repainting it because we said so and we are French. You can switch from the paint mode to the brush mode by holding down the "b" key...but don't even think to ask about a short key to switch back to paint...we didn't invent one- you have to manually find the "repaint" button on your own. If you are so lucky to figure out the process to get to the paint bucket and palette - you must now navigate through the true hell we have created for you - the invisible deleting button. ::sniff::
We tried to ease you into a sense of false security by creating false "short step keys" that should techinically trick you into thinking you can paint quickly and painlessly. However, we have hidden short keys that are also similar to your known short keys that actually delete frames - without telling you. What does this mean? You will think you are almost done with your project and will then learn that instead of using the "z" key to zoom in - the "z" key has been deleting frames silently (like a serial killer with a silencer). You now must color an additional 70 frames- once you can find them in the vortex of files of course. You must manually import each frame ONE BY ONE into your x-sheet. Because importing all of them at once would create a laziness that we do not want to support. (what is that? We are lazy for not creating a manual??? Need we remind you that we invented mustard??????) :::sniff::
Once you have successful manuvered through our program and colored the big sections of the picture of your cute zittle mouse (accent added for additional snobbery) your true talent (although we of course do not think you have any talent you idiot American inker who just graduated college) will be put to the true French test. You must perform the "self-color" lines drawing test. If you can do this we may permit you to eat a baguette as an award. However, do not become too proud in your accomplishments...you do not speak French and will always be inferior to us. ::sniff::
To draw the self-color lines that outline the character, you must protect every color you have already used- or we will ruin everything you have already done. Yes, if you don't protect every color you have used we will override it and erase the last eight hours of your work. Oh and if you try to use the "z" key to undo the last step- we will punish you by once again deleting some frames. And of course not tell you. Oh and we will spell "color" like "colour" just to show you that your spelling is inferior to ours.
If you try to switch from paintbucket mode to the brush mode and then back again to paintbucket mode, we have commanded the program to flip out and do random things like delete frames, use your credit card, call the French police, and of course - delete frames. We would apologize for this inconvenience but...we are the French- and we don't apologize. ::sniff::
We have also commanded our software to condense the lines that were so clear in the orginal sketches to all intersect with no distinct direction. This will challenge your weak American minds to figure out the difference between the whiskers, nose, and facial components of your cute little mouse cartoon. You will have to manually disect every line and continually redo your work when you find that you have mistaken an eyebrow for an eyelid. This is what you get for being inferior to us. Phewy on you!! :sniff::
If you need a break from staring at the screen all day, we suggest you get a flight to Quebec- it is always nice here and perhaps we can educate you to the more sophisticated things- like French wigs, perfume and animation software. Because as everyone knows...the French are known for their superior computer skills (sarcasm added by this American blogger to protray her bitterness towards this quirky software).
However, just in case anyone from my office or management team reads this (or even anyone who is French) please know that I write this all in fun. While the software has bugs and as everyone calls it "quirks", the whole idea of coloring for a living has kinda grown on me. It's kinda fun to design characters that I know little kids will watch and giggle because they are so cute and michevious. While the animation software does have some logistical issues, it does cut the process by quite a bit if you think about what they had to do before computers. So to the French....please hire some nerds and work out the "quirks" and make our (the inkers) jobs a bit easier.
Now if you will excuse me...I have to go find some deleted frames.
I was recently hired at a small animation company in L.A. My new job is in the ink and paint department where we color and edit hundreds and hundreds of frames for the animation department. My exact title at this company? Well, I waiver between calling myself an "inker" (not to be confused with stinker) an animation assitant, or a digital painter.
For those who follow my blog even occasionally may know thatI just graduated from college. Every new graduate knows that your first job is pretty important in setting the stage for your future career. Your salary history counter starts ticking, you break in your power heels and you learn to navigate the corporate world. For me...I stand armed with my colors and magic mouse (the Apple wireless mouse- not Mickey mouse or Mighty mouse or whatever mutant mouse would be magic...because that's just creepy) , ready to face "the man." Sure, I didn't picture starting out as an "ink and painter," but I never knew how fun this job could be.
What is my job like? First, you are assigned a scene that holds anywhere from three to 40 feet of frames. Each frame has to be colored individually. Just to explain - a frame is a picture of whatever cartoon is moving at the time. Each frame changes their postion slightly to give the idea of motion. Think of a flipbook. I have to color every page of that flipbook. Sounds easy enough.
Did I mention that I never really enjoyed coloring as a child? Coloring books were not as interesting as playing "house" outside. When I did color as a kid, I also never believed in finishing a page. The idea was to scribble enough color on the page to get the general idea and move on. Most of the drawings I did as a kid were....abstract and modern. Even if it was supposed to be a drawing of an elephant - it always looked like a painting someone did while high on crack (though in my case as a three year old, it was probably more like large amounts of sugary candy) and looked more like a grey wall of circles and dots with a florish of random blue lines zigging around the poor elephant's ears. Oh if I could only write a letter to me and warn little three year old me of the imporance of choosing colors and closing gaps.
My work is more difficult than just getting out crayons and "being inspired." The problem begins with the actual animation software. It's written by a Canadian/French company. Which means even if there was a manual (which of course there isn't) it would be in Canadian French. Better yet, even if this magical manual did indeed exist it would be like this...
::Pretend this next section is in snobby French:::
Oh yes, so to color your seemly simple sketch of a mouse(P.s. our company has created several cartoon characters that are mice) first you must stare at the screen for twenty minutes looking for impossibly invisible gaps between lines. We did this just to be snobby. Your life of precious minutes is not important to us. We invented the Canadian bacon (how we can turn pigs into Canadian citizens are beyond us...but still-we did it and you eat it) after all and are therefore better than you ::sniff::
We did not think that you should be able to just click on the section you want colored (say you want to color the mouse's jacket or shirt collar) a certain way. If even a molecule of space exists between separation lines...you will not be able to do anything. We created this program for the sole purpose of laughing at you. You are stupid. ::sniff::
Once you have closed the gap between separation lines, you will be allowed to color. But of course, you must click 1o different buttons hidden under buttons that have nothing to do with what you want to do. If you want to paint one of the lines that outline the character, you cannot just click "paint"- you have to click "repaint" even if you have never painted it before -you are repainting it because we said so and we are French. You can switch from the paint mode to the brush mode by holding down the "b" key...but don't even think to ask about a short key to switch back to paint...we didn't invent one- you have to manually find the "repaint" button on your own. If you are so lucky to figure out the process to get to the paint bucket and palette - you must now navigate through the true hell we have created for you - the invisible deleting button. ::sniff::
We tried to ease you into a sense of false security by creating false "short step keys" that should techinically trick you into thinking you can paint quickly and painlessly. However, we have hidden short keys that are also similar to your known short keys that actually delete frames - without telling you. What does this mean? You will think you are almost done with your project and will then learn that instead of using the "z" key to zoom in - the "z" key has been deleting frames silently (like a serial killer with a silencer). You now must color an additional 70 frames- once you can find them in the vortex of files of course. You must manually import each frame ONE BY ONE into your x-sheet. Because importing all of them at once would create a laziness that we do not want to support. (what is that? We are lazy for not creating a manual??? Need we remind you that we invented mustard??????) :::sniff::
Once you have successful manuvered through our program and colored the big sections of the picture of your cute zittle mouse (accent added for additional snobbery) your true talent (although we of course do not think you have any talent you idiot American inker who just graduated college) will be put to the true French test. You must perform the "self-color" lines drawing test. If you can do this we may permit you to eat a baguette as an award. However, do not become too proud in your accomplishments...you do not speak French and will always be inferior to us. ::sniff::
To draw the self-color lines that outline the character, you must protect every color you have already used- or we will ruin everything you have already done. Yes, if you don't protect every color you have used we will override it and erase the last eight hours of your work. Oh and if you try to use the "z" key to undo the last step- we will punish you by once again deleting some frames. And of course not tell you. Oh and we will spell "color" like "colour" just to show you that your spelling is inferior to ours.
If you try to switch from paintbucket mode to the brush mode and then back again to paintbucket mode, we have commanded the program to flip out and do random things like delete frames, use your credit card, call the French police, and of course - delete frames. We would apologize for this inconvenience but...we are the French- and we don't apologize. ::sniff::
We have also commanded our software to condense the lines that were so clear in the orginal sketches to all intersect with no distinct direction. This will challenge your weak American minds to figure out the difference between the whiskers, nose, and facial components of your cute little mouse cartoon. You will have to manually disect every line and continually redo your work when you find that you have mistaken an eyebrow for an eyelid. This is what you get for being inferior to us. Phewy on you!! :sniff::
If you need a break from staring at the screen all day, we suggest you get a flight to Quebec- it is always nice here and perhaps we can educate you to the more sophisticated things- like French wigs, perfume and animation software. Because as everyone knows...the French are known for their superior computer skills (sarcasm added by this American blogger to protray her bitterness towards this quirky software).
However, just in case anyone from my office or management team reads this (or even anyone who is French) please know that I write this all in fun. While the software has bugs and as everyone calls it "quirks", the whole idea of coloring for a living has kinda grown on me. It's kinda fun to design characters that I know little kids will watch and giggle because they are so cute and michevious. While the animation software does have some logistical issues, it does cut the process by quite a bit if you think about what they had to do before computers. So to the French....please hire some nerds and work out the "quirks" and make our (the inkers) jobs a bit easier.
Now if you will excuse me...I have to go find some deleted frames.
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Junk in my Trunk
There is an orange in my car trunk…and I have no idea how it got there. I never put food in my trunk, and no one else drives my car. I noticed it about a week ago. I opened my trunk and was like, "What? Where did you come from?"
Normal people would have just thrown it away, or maybe even eaten it. Not me. I just slammed the trunk shut and forgot about it. Next day, I opened my trunk, and there it was. Still. I shrugged, threw my book bag in, and shut the trunk. Next day, the orange was STILL there!!! I mean, you would think the thing would just eventually disappear the same way it appeared.
I thought about getting rid of it. I mean, I am not going to eat it. I don't need an orange in my trunk. However, you just never know. What if I become citrus deprived someday? I could just go to my trunk, open it and hey look an orange!!!
Every day for the past week, I have opened my trunk, looked at the orange slowly decaying in there and slammed the hatch. I now feel somewhat like a scientist. The orange has now become an experiment to my otherwise dull life. How long can the thing survive in the depths of my trunk? Right now it's slightly wrinkly and discolored, but it still musters the strength to greet me with it's orangy glow. I just couldn't throw it away now…it's a part of my life.
I figure I will let the orange die in my trunk and maybe another fruit will appear. Who knows, maybe my car is like the goose that laid the golden egg….except with fruit. My car could get famous, and I just can't risk that fame by throwing away my miracle orange.
The Girl who loved lace, the Girl whose job was killing her, and the Girl who hated washing dishes
I am a woman, and I can turn on my computer, listen to my ipod, and use my hair dryer...hear me type!
March 24th has been deemed in the blogging world as "Women in technology blogging day."
(On a side note, is there really such a thing as a "blogging world"? I mean if there is...it would have to be metaphysical since there is no "blogging earth" rotating around the "blogging sun." And if there is a metaphysical blogging world, how was it made? With a big bang/computer crash? With a spoken/written word? Who is the God of blog? These are the questions I ask myself when I am this sleep deprived.)
March 24th is set aside to celebrate one particular woman's journey in technology- Ada Lovelace. The first thing you might notice about this woman is her name. Apparently, she loved lace. Perhaps she wore it everyday. Maybe she liked tying her shoelaces. Maybe she made her own lace since she was that awesome. What ever the case was, I think she just had weird lace fetishes.
Ada Lovelace born on Dec. 10, 1815 was the only child of famous poet Lord Byron and his wife Anne. She is widely known for building her own computer coding program. Lord Byron disowned her at a young age which most likely gave her daddy issues, which probably drove her to study more in an attempt to prove herself.
She is considered by most scholars to be the first official computer programmer. She translated an Italian mathematician's notes on the first "Analytical Engine," adding her own notes and sections which were later studied by programmers and considered to be very advanced for her time. She also wrote detailed descriptions for future computers and codes.
This girl beats Bill Gates and Steve Jobs, hands down. If she was alive today, she would probably own her own computer company called "Lace." Just think, we could have had the "Ilace," or the "laceberry." Want lace? There's an app. for that. Sadly, she died from too much bloodletting and therefore could not invent those wonderful ideas.
Second lady to honor on this day of women and technology - Marie Curie. She is the woman who can truly claim the phrase, "my work is killing me!"
Marie Sklodowska Curie, born Nov. 7, 1867, won two Nobel prizes, one in physics and one in chemistry. She discovered radiology by isolating polonium and radium. Interestingly, she named "polonium" after her native country, Poland. Using these radio-active elements, she blazed the trail in cancer research.
Probably the cutest thing about Marie was her love life. Her instructor at the School of Physics and Chemistry was Pierre Curie. He was studying magnetism and she became very interested in his research. She soon could not resist his "polar side" (har har har) and they were married. Nothing says love more than the fascinating world of cancer and magnets.
After their wedding, they scarcely left their research lab....er...love nest. Sadly, Pierre was killed by a horse-drawn vehicle. Marie finally died from radioactive poisoning. She died trying to save the lives of cancer victims. For that, I tip my metaphysical blogging hat to you, Marie.
The third lady of technology is personally my favorite- Josephine Cochran. In 1850, a rather rudimentary machine had been invented to supposedly wash dishes. However, it was hardly practical and very cumbersome.
I don't know about you, but I HATE washing dishes. You have to touch yucky food that people nibbled on, and you have to scrub pans with oil that no matter how much you suds and scrub, the oily residue will ALWAYS be there!!! They were the enemy of my childhood, because instead of being about to play outside after dinner, I had to do the dishes. Oh and just when I would finish the dishes for one meal and feel good about my accomplishments- BAM! Different meal, more dishes. Now I see I am not the only one who hates this task.
Josephine Cochran is quoted in saying, "If no one else is going to invent a dish washing machine, I'll do it myself!" She went on to market her mechanical dishwasher at the famous World Fair and started her own company that eventually became KitchenAid. All I can say is...you go girl!!!!
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