A Nerdy Girl Talking about Geeky Things

Remember those days?  Remember if you were going to meet up with someone at a public place, you had to be like:  “Meet me at the fountain.  The dolphin one.  On the side closest to the front doors of that big building.” 

If you got lost, you had to stop and ask directions.  Or if you’re more adventurous, rely on your inner sense of direction: “I’m supposed to be going north.  It’s 4pm, so according to the sun’s position I’m currently going east.  OK, so I’ll take the first left I come to and see what happens…”

If you were supposed to meet someone for coffee and they were late, you would…just sit there. 

When you were bored at work you … um …

Shit.

An unfortunate happenstance of being a struggling actress (now writer and producer) is that I end up working jobs that I’m way overqualified for, and sometimes too smart for.

For the past two years, that hasn’t been a problem.  I’m a night receptionist at an emergency animal hospital, which actually isn’t reception at all.  Yes, I answer the phones and check people in.  But I also assess and prioritize incoming emergencies (how does it look, how badly is it bleeding, is it having trouble breathing, etc).  I determine the difference between calling up a technician to evaluate a pet, just putting them in an exam room for a doctor, or grabbing the pet from the owner and taking it straight back for triage.

Exciting, no?  And it took me at least 9 months to really feel like I’d learned the ropes.  Other than emergencies, we also field all kinds of crazy ass questions from people.  (I adopted a kitten today and I think my dog is mad at me.  Do you think my dog is mad at me?)

We either answer them ourselves, pass them to a technician, or send it to a doctor. 

Also, as I work during emergency hours, I end up helping the technicians by restraining pets so blood, x-rays, whatever can be taken.

It takes quite a lot of experience to really do my job right.  We prioritize clients, pets and questions based on their urgency.  And that shit just takes time to learn. 

I’ve been there two years.  Don’t get me wrong, it’s a badass, exciting, heartwrenching, rewarding, frustrating job and I feel really lucky to have it.

But I kind of feel like I could do it in my sleep. 

What’s the point of all this?  Why has my geeky blog gone on an animal hospital tangent?

BECAUSE I HAVEN’T HAD A PHONE FOR FOUR DAYS. 

Luckily, as I’ve been begging for more of a challenge, my few daytime hours got filled up with all kinds of cool interesting administrative duties.  Duties that required internet access, THANK GOD.

But then night would come.  And there I would be. 

No texting.  No Twitter.  No Facebook.

WHAT DID PEOPLE DO?  How did they survive being bored at work with no cell phones?

Wait.  What’s that you say? 

Solitaire.

Oh.  Oh yes. 

That tiny little, oft forgotten program.  Hours of OCD fun, people.

Minesweeper?  I don’t get it.  Explain it to me if you feel so inclined.  It makes no sense.  I don’t get the objective, I don’t get the rules, I get mad when I blow up.  Fuck Minesweeper.

But Solitaire.  Yes.  And Free Cell!  And SPIDER solitaire! It’s a veritable smorgasbord of entertainment!  And it LOOKS like I’m WORKING!

Ah, yes.  OK.  I think I’m going to make it.  Phone battery comes tomorrow.  Thank god.

I used to just be on Livejournal.  I had e-mail and I had a Livejournal.

Then Myspace got big, and I eventually phased out Livejournal.  Friendster was a brief blip on my radar, but there didn’t seem to be a point in having two social networking accounts so I stopped checking it.  That, and Friendster sucked balls.

Eventually, Myspace became the place for glittery decals, photo slideshows, mp3 players and embedded video, all of which started playing AUTOMATICALLY as soon as I tried to look at a profile.  My damned computer kept locking up.  I was told by the Facebook converts that it was way better than Myspace.  “No, no.  I have Myspace already. I don’t need another one.”

Eventually, after another obnoxious site with glittery decals and crapola that locked up my computer, I spurned Myspace and jumped on Facebook.

Ahhhh.  Breath of fresh air.  So much better.  Not really a place for a blog, but whatever. 

So there I was.  A junk e-mail, a real e-mail and Facebook.  Easy.  Simple.

Then I got into the web series business.  Apparently Twitter is like god, but you need Facebook, too.  OK, I got on Twitter.  I hated it until I took a tutorial from my roommate and figured out what the hell a hashtag was and how to shorten links. 

Now, I have to admit, it can be fun. I don’t think you’ve truly lived until you’ve hashtagged #humancentipede and #preparationh in a twitter conversation.

But I wanted to have a separate personal Twitter with my show twitter.  Two twitters.  Added onto my regular Facebook and the FB fanpage for my web series. Oh, and my production company has a separate e-mail address from my other one.

Things were starting to get complicated.  I was on top of it, though.

THEN, I discovered Tumblr.  Neat!  I can blog again about silly stuff all while following smart people who work in web series.  I started learning a lot of stuff, and I got to babble about nerdy things.  Awesome.

But then, in an effort to make the show more interactive, I started ANOTHER blog just for the show, on Posterous.

I’m starting to hyperventilate just thinking about it.

I’ve gone from the girl who never maintained more than one social networking site at a time, to having all this: two blogs, two Twitters, two Facebooks, two e-mail addresses. 

The only reason I don’t have a Myspace, is because Myspace keeps rejecting me.  Honestly, it feels like my 12 year old cousin just told me I wasn’t cool enough to hang out with her friends.  Really, Myspace?

How did this happen?  What is going on?  Is it really necessary?

I really need someone to just buy out all these social networking sites and create FaceTwit in Space.  Then, we can all just have one account and it will all be organized.

Could somebody get on that?  Thanks.

I’m sorry, but this just isn’t working anymore.  I know it’s harsh to just put it out there like that, but it’s true.

I remember when I first saw you that day in the T-Mobile store.  You had a touch screen AND pushy buttons!  I was so excited.  I thought I had finally found my phone for life.

Things were good for a while. I even argued with IPhone users about how much more awesome you were.

But then, I discovered that you don’t fit comfortably in my pocket.  I would answer you in public and you were so bulky I felt a little like Zack Morris in Saved by the Bell.  IPhone users would smirk as they slipped their sleek little phones into their pockets.

But I still defended you.  “Sure, he’s really bulky.  But I have my GMail and Google calendar right there!  And it has tons of apps.  Just like the IPhone!  And PUSHY BUTTONS.  I can’t live without my pushy buttons.”

It took about six months for the battery life to be an issue.  At first, it was just annoying.  Then I had to buy a car charger.  The real kick in the pants came when I had to start bringing my charger to work with me.  The other girls have IPhones and they surf the net all day long, text whoever they want.  They don’t have to prioritize (I really don’t need to respond to that Facebook comment right now…I can do it later.  The battery can’t really handle that right now…)  And so I plug you in.  Faithfully, every day.

But still…STILL, I defended you.  I just kept repeating pushy-buttons, pushy-buttons, touch screen…  I thought it would be ok.

But now, Google phone, now you’ve decided to just turn yourself off for no good reason. It doesn’t matter that I was about to tweet the most awesome tweet in the long, distinguished history of Twitter…you decided to turn yourself off and I was so shocked that I forgot what I was going to say.

I can never forgive you for that Google phone.  Now, the only way I can be sure that you will stay on is to plug you in. Constantly.

WE’VE BEEN TOGETHER LESS THAN A YEAR AND A HALF YOU BASTARD!!

So that’s it.  I quit you….

Well, technically I quit you in March when my contract is up.  But still.  It’s for real this time.