I return from ESRI User Conference, alternately titled "18,000 Introverts in Cargo Shorts". But in a good way.
I get to go to this conference about once every other year. I learn a lot. It's exhausting. It's a pleasant change to not have to explain what I do to people using only little words.
Dear Blog,
I have a confession. You may have noticed that I haven't been around much. The truth is, I've been spending time with this other blog. No, it's not like that; I swear. It's a work thing.
I've been struggling with a javascript application at work.
I didn't really start programming until I met python. I love python. We understand each other. It's a very direct language. It runs in order, expects you to be specific, and cuts you no slack. It's very efficient and it loves making lists. I love making lists too. Python and I have a lot in common.
My son came home from school several weeks ago brandishing a permission slip to join an after-school geography club, which I thought was pretty cool. (I'm a geographer by trade myself.) He thought it was pretty cool too, so I signed the form.
The first day he came home from geography club, I asked him what he'd learned that day, and he said something like, "We learned the capitals of the states."
"Huh. Okay." I'll admit I was a little puzzled, but I do remember being forced to do that myself at about his age.
I'm sitting in the airport waiting for a plane to show up and take me home. It's the end of the day and officially dear-god-I-want-a-cup-of-tea o'clock.
Still, it's chill enough. Terminal's not crowded. My day went quick. Lots of meetings. Traffic wasn't too bad.
So I'm back from outer space. Back in my home with my family and my cat. And now that I'm not in the midst of a long day at the airport, I can tell you about the conference and how cool it was.
Checked out of the hotel, got a cab to the airport. Waited in line to check my bag, waited in line to dump out my water bottle, waited in line to take off my shoes and do the TSA shuffle, waited in line to refill my water bottle, waited in line for food, waited in line for the bathroom. Settled at gate and cracked open paperback. The PA system announced a gate change. Resettled at new gate and recracked open paperback. The flight is delayed. Not rare. The flight is completely full. Not rare.
I am tired. Not. Rare.
A few months ago I found myself with an important work meeting on the horizon, and I thought it was possible that this was the sort of thing for which I might have to dress nicely.
My daily office environment is such that I don't have generally have to worry about this sort of thing. When I roll out of bed in the morning, I grab a pair of jeans that falls into the category of "clean enough", pair it with a t-shirt with a spaceship on it (fun fact: 28% of my t-shirts have spaceships on them; I ran the numbers), pull my hair into a pony tail, and I'm out the door.
I was five minutes away from the office this morning when I realized that I'd left my phone on my dresser.
It's not the first time I've left the house for work without my phone. Generally, I flip a U-turn and go back for it, but generally I notice before I've gotten more than a couple of miles away from home base. For most of society, our personal electronics have become an essential part of our daily apparel, haven't they? It's like leaving the house without pants. You notice.
I keep a spiral notebook on my desk at the office. It's a work habit I picked up from my dad. And in that notebook, in addition to actual note-taking, I've been known to doodle. (Another habit I picked up from Dad, I believe.)
