Mystery Solved.

I’m listening to the Muppet rendition of songs like Bohemian Rhapsody, Devil Went Down to Georgia, and Benny & the Jets. Apologies if this post is… well, a bit, odd.

At work, I drink a lot of caffeine. Those of you who follow my endless 140 character rants on Twitter (it’s just like here except smaller! Yeah, I wouldn’t follow me either), know that my preferred drink is Sugar-Free Amp  -- PepsiCo, I am currently accepting offers to be your spokesperson. Waiting by the phone. Just. Call.

Right, so I like caffeine now. I didn’t used to drink it prior to working for the video game industry, so that must tell you what living on the internet (that should totally my job description on LinkedIn by the way) will do to you. When you drink as much caffeine as I do, you become relatively well acquainted with the washroom. The loo. The privy. The toilets. The restroom.

Sometimes, in the afternoon, I’ll see that one of the stalls is sitting there with the toilet seat up. This isn’t a unisex facility. Just for the ladies. I started to see it nearly every day. Thoughts raced about what person in the office was doing it.

This whole mystery reminded me, one day, of a lecture from my college Anthropology days (why did I just make it sound like I’m reminiscing about drugs or something?). Our professor was teaching us about Practice Theory and performativity. We were discussing the works of Pierre Bourdieu and the professor introduced the concept “doxa”. For anyone who didn’t dabble in Anthropology, doxa is a term that refers to something that “goes without saying because it comes without saying” for someone. Whatever it may be is just so engrained in one’s society that he or she cannot imagine it being any other way. This was the example she used to demonstrate this phenomenon:

Professor X (meaning anonymous, not referencing Charles Francis Xaviar… although that would be the coolest! Totally saving that rant for another day) was visiting a foreign country and walked into a public restroom. She checked under the stalls to see if anyone was occupying any of them. Saw no feet, so she opened the door. Upon opening the door, she walked right in on someone who was perched on top of the toilet seat (why this person didn’t lock the door, I don’t know, so don’t ask). Professor Xaviar was so taken aback by this incident because she couldn’t even imagine using the facilities in any other way than she was used to. It was hard to wrap her mind about it. DOXA!

So one day I see the lid to the toilet seat up again and think of that story. I start wondering, “Wow! I must be encountering real life cultural differences right here at work. Not stupid cultural differences like how silly Canadian accents sound. But genuine differences and this can start a dialogue about how diverse America really is!”

Then, the inevitable happened. My bubble was burst. My detective skills failed me. If this had been LA Noire, I wouldn’t have completed the case. The game wouldn’t even have given me the option to skip the scene after three tries. Also, I probably would have killed someone with that fucking car. You drive, I have to look over the case notes.

One fateful day, I walked into the bathroom and noticed the stalls had just been cleaned. All the toilet seats were up. Obviously, I was just continually noticing the one toilet seat that no one had bothered using since someone cleaned.

Looks like I’ll never be one of those meddling kids.

EDIT: I have officially added "lives on the internet" to my LinkedIn profile. Changed "lives" to "resides"... you know, to sound professional.

Girls Who Hate Girls

I hate girls hating other girls.

This blog entry has been in the works for a long time. For those of you who have followed my ramblings for a long time—long time being like 7 months—you will know that this blog entry is the promised one that started the whole blog. Some of you might be disappointed because this won’t be the post you are looking for (Giving myself +5 points for an oddly placed and unexpected Star Wars reference. Taking away -5 points for having the audacity to give myself points). Regardless, let’s dive right in.

For those of you who don't know, I started this blog because people enjoyed my borderline-lunatic rants about girls like Felicia Day, Kari Byron, Olivia Munn and other geek-media-icons. It was mainly hyperbolic and 99% for the sake of being humorous and contrary. However, I've decided that as innocent my intentions were, making fun of other girls is uncool. Except for my continued detestation of Raspberry Tart from the original Strawberry Shortcake series. She knows what she did.

Before you go and wonder, no I haven't gotten in trouble with someone important, and no, I haven't been confronted about the subject by people of varying degrees of importance. I am miraculously coming to my own conclusion and outting myself on this one. It's a very Claymation-Christmas-Special type of epiphany. Feel free to cancel the speaking engagement you booked me for your child's Bat Mitzvah or high school graduation.

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I’ve been an employee at BioWare/EA for about a month now and it’s really made me realize the impact that words have on a person. For those of you who think Community Managers are supposed to be immune to superficial attacks on personal character or professional integrity, I suggest you see how well a sociopath would do this job. Actually, thinking on it, maybe he/she would be the perfect fit for my job description but then you’d have a sociopath running your community, not someone who passionately cared about it. Sad days would ensue, I assure you. I give warm fuzzies whereas the sociopath never will. Never.

And on another slightly related note, I’ve realized that meanness stemming from anonymity doesn’t just reside on the internet as it’s often accused. I’ve started to think about how easy it is carelessly slip into road rage or be rude to someone in customer service (particularly when said person is almost never the cause of one’s frustration). When will I ever see that person again? Likely never, but how is that justification? Words and gestures can hurt. Think before you act. Period. This PSA brought to you by children’s programming around the world.

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 I started to think about why (using a generalization here) girls can be so vicious to other girls. There’s definitely a bigger sense of competition amongst us than there is camaraderie. Tina Fey portrays this really well in her film “Mean Girls” as well as an episode of 30 Rock “TGS Hates Women”. Fueling negative relationships and reinforcement between women is a problem that many will encounter at some point and have to choose whether or not to engage in that behavior. Writer (and Star Wars craft maven) Bonnie Burton aka @bonniegrrl has written a must-read book called Girls Against Girls: Why We Are Mean to Each Other and How We Can Change. She outlines the problem and offers real solutions about how we can end this cycle of hatred. Go read it and help change the world one lady at a time!

Now, I’m not saying outright abhorrence doesn’t have its place. Hating pandas and koi fish will still be completely appropriate in the right context. Genuine dislike of a specific person for valid reasons is also your own business and not something I need to know about.

However, I realized that I’ve expressed negative feelings towards many prominent women in the media for no good reason. Making jokes at someone's expense probably derives from jealousy that she is doing something I am not. It's petty and silly. There’s an underlying, misguided notion that every woman is somehow in competition, coveting a finite number of possible achievements and accolades. If one woman has earned recognition, we think it means the rest of us can’t. Stupid logic, I know. I blame the Xbox achievement system mainly.

Bottom line. I’m sorry to the successful geeky ladies that I have verbally bullied (albeit from afar, out of earshot, and saying things I thought were funny and harmless) in my time on this Earth. Even if it was hilarious at the time. I will try and support your efforts unless you turn out to be a bigot or something undeniably heinous.  

And finally, in my brief time working professionally in the video game industry (which may prove to be short-lived should anyone important decide to read the archives of this blog), I want to say that I’ve met Felicia Day and working with her is a pleasure. She’s done a lot of groundbreaking things for women that I should be thanking her for. I'll miss our fake rivalry... though it's not as fun when the rival has no idea the other person exists. I doubt Ms. Day will ever stumble upon these words I’m stringing together, but she does, I hope she reads this: You are genuinely swell! Also, I’m pretty sure you have magical hair.

I never said I was a wordsmith.

For now, I will focus on a new fake-nemesis. I'm looking at you Bai Yun! Tune in next time for my unwarranted attack against postcards, when I’ll tell you exactly why they are a waste of time!

P.S. Now that I've explained exactly why I am a poor role model for females everywhere, ignore that and come find me at Geek Girl Con in Seattle on Oct. 8^th-9^th for warm fuzzies and adoration! I get +10 if I know you by your internet username!

P.P.S. Enjoy this sentimental post because you’ll NEVER see it again. Unless I find fault with myself again. It’s unlikely, but you never know.