Blog
Writing, notes, and occasional rambles.
insecurity and bravery
My husband won’t sing in front of me. He’s taking voice lessons with a great teacher (Tyler Kofoed, if you’re interested), and he says he’s getting better, but he won’t sing for me. Part of it is intimidation, because I’ve been taking lessons and just singing a lot longer, but part of it is massive insecurity and not wanting to reveal that he’s not great at something. I didn’t realize it was actually a thing until he nearly had a panic attack after he almost got up the nerve to let me warm him up the other day. He calls me brave. It’s not a word I generally claim, because I think I would back down from a physical altercation, and I’m not sure I would rush into a burning building to save cats. But in some ways, I am brave. I ignore the part of my ego that cares what other people think, and when I want to do something, I just don’t give a damn about other people. Take climbing. It had been over ten years since I last went climbing (indoors, but still). Ten years and, oh, 50-60 pounds. My harness didn’t really fit anymore. Did you know that shoes feel tighter when you’ve gained that much weight? But I decided to go climbing at a gym here with a friend. We started with bouldering (stupid idea, but I didn’t have a harness that fit), and I fell off the wall. Many times. At one point, I fell on my way walking to the wall. Yeah. I shut down the part of me that said I was too big and clumsy and weak and lazy and all manner of bad things, and I made some progress. And then a little more the next time. And when I finally got a harness that fit, I got a little ways up a wall a few times. And then more. And now, I’m still not very good, and not very strong, but I’m getting better each time, and no one has even tried to say that I’m too big to climb, or anything negative at all. I’m really insecure about most everything. I know I’m smart, but I’m not doing big, important things with it. I know I’m a good musician, but I’m not in top-notch ensembles. I know I’m kind and funny, but I’m sometimes unsatisfied with my friendships. I could create a very long list of the things that I am insecure about, but you get the idea. My pride and my bravery and very closely related to my insecurity. It comes from deciding that my life would be better for having tried something, or for letting something go, than to stick with the old ways of doing things. And once I decide that, the external naysayers get the same treatment as the internal naysayers: I ignore them, or, at least, try to ignore them.
Jun 2017indispensability and value
I had a realization when I started my current job: I don’t want to be indispensable. For a very long time, I wanted to be indispensable, where things would come to a halt if I weren’t there or if I hadn’t left detailed instructions behind. I wanted to be so important to a company or a project that work absolutely required my expertise and my presence. I thought that was a sign of value, that it meant I mattered. But now, I don’t want to be indispensable. It seems to be a sign of arrogance to the point of irresponsibility and disregard for the well-being of an organization to be indispensable. I want to be valued and to train others to do my job, so that I have the freedom to take a vacation, or even (gasp) leave, somewhere down the road. I care about the team I’m on and want them to succeed, with or without me. What I want is to be valued, to be respected for the skills, knowledge, and ideas I bring, and to be regarded as a positive force on our team. However, we have a new tester on our team, and I’m training her. Though I know I really want her to succeed and be a partner with me, I still feel a little threatened, like… I’m no longer required. Even though I’ve been thinking these ideas, about the tension between indispensability and value, and coming to regard them as separate concepts, I still feel like they are the same thing, like the best way to be valued is to make myself indispensable. I actually talked with the new woman about this, so that she understands that if I start to sound a bit territorial or a bit fussy, it’s not about her, but about me, and she’s welcome to confront me about it. We’ll see how I react if she does confront me. :)
May 2017board game extravaganza 2 (April)
I went to Mind Games in April, at which judges play at least 30 games and vote on their favorites. On Sunday morning, votes are tallied, and five games are heralded as winners with the right to put the Mensa Select seal on their game. This was my fourth year going, and it was a lot of fun to see old friends, meet new people, and play LOTS. OF. GAMES. The winners this year were Amalgam, Around the World in 80 Days, Clank!, Harry Potter Hogwarts Battle, and Imagine. I didn’t play Clank!, and I had played Hogwarts Battle at the other convention (and it wasn’t on my ballot this time), but I played so many other games. I promise I like more games than just those I win. I know you’re curious about my thoughts on the games, so here goes:
Apr 2017luxury and want
What conjures thoughts of luxury to you? Nice purses? Hand-tailored suits? Expensive scotch? For me, yes, those are luxurious items, but a much simpler luxury item is… Goldfish. Yeah, the cheese crackers shaped like fish. I still feel a little self-indulgent when I buy them. Realizing that has made me think about how our childhood circumstances continue to affect our thinking as we are older. Growing up, my mom supported our family of four on a pastor’s salary. She served congregations that were made up of people who were mostly middle and upper-middle class. I don’t know how much she made, and it’s not terribly relevant. We didn’t have money for new books (realizing that I couldn’t get the books I wanted from the Scholastic flyer is a decently strong memory), rarely went out to eat, and did a lot of shopping at Goodwill. My mom made most of my clothes until we moved to Germany. I didn’t have my first pair of jeans until I was in sixth grade, and those were hand-me-downs from a boy in the church. I loved the clothing she made me; she is a great seamstress, and I was never self-conscious about what I was wearing, though… I do remember a lot of pairs of pink sweatpants. I would get a new dress for Easter, and it was kind of a big deal when she bought me one instead of making it. She stopped making my clothes when we moved, in part because fabric was so much more expensive in Europe. Our snacks were not fancy - string cheese, homemade cookies (yum) - but she would sometimes buy Goldfish. I loved those things, but they seemed to only come out on special occasions. I felt really high-class when I would get to eat Goldfish, and that has stayed with me into adulthood. (Now that we’re just a couple weeks from Easter, I’ve been thinking about how our plastic Easter eggs were filled with Froot Loops and sugary cereals that were only in our house for those times.) In spite of not having much disposable income in our daily life (maybe because of it), we had an annual vacation that would take us camping in Yellowstone or driving along the Pacific coast while we lived in the US, and Italy, Spain and Portugal, Crete, Israel, or many other places while we lived in Europe. My mom spent money on experiences rather than stuff while we were growing up, so even though we would take our own snacks and sandwiches to Disneyland, we went to Disneyland most years with her family. We traveled widely in Europe, staying in hostels and not being terribly adventurous in cuisine, following Rick Steves’ guidance and exploring on our own. It was an incredible way to grow up, and I’m happy to have those experiences to remember. I now have a situation where we have two incomes and no children, in a city with a reasonable cost of living, but I still hesitate before I buy myself name-brand snacks or the leaner beef. And Goldfish, well, those are just special.
Mar 2017board game extravaganza 1 (March)
I went to a board game convention at the beginning of March, and I played lots of games! Here’s a list: Scoville: This is similar to Pastiche, but with peppers. It’s a cute game where you plant peppers and try to harvest increasingly more expensive or strategic peppers. You get victory points by making salsa recipes and selling your peppers. It’s cute and fun, not too heavy, and I really enjoyed it. Kodama: This is a sweet and pretty game that can be played with children if you want. You start with a trunk card that has one of six features on it. Each season (spring, summer, and fall), you place four cards on your tree, scoring points for features, and at the end of each season, you invite a kodama (tree spirit) to your tree, and it gives you additional points. There are kodama cards for children that give more basic points so they can be competitive with adults. It’s a very pretty game, with really nice art. Lost Cities: This is a two-player game where you go build expeditions by going through a deck of cards and playing cards out of your hand in sequential order for each color. Some rounds can be devastatingly bad, going into negative points, but it’s a fun game for two, and it can be quite competitive over a few rounds. I ended up with two copies of this through the math trade, and I think we’re going to give the second copy to Carl’s parents, who like games too. Viticulture: I was really excited about this game, because I love Scythe, and this was his earlier hit. I think this game would be best played with people you know really well, whom you can harass if they take too long, because a couple guys we played with were fairly dense and fairly oblivious. The mechanics are interesting, as you plant vineyards, harvest grapes, and make and sell wine, and it takes a reasonable balancing of resources. It was a fun game, and I’d like to play it again, though with people I know better. :) Deadwood Studios: You’re filming a western movie, and you take roles and get paid and get fame for performing well. For each turn, you’re encouraged to perform your line expressively, but you ultimately roll a die to determine whether you succeed or not. It ended up being a lot of fun, with plenty of laughter. Letter Tycoon: I entered a tournament for this game and ended up losing badly. It’s kind of like capitalist Scrabble. You have a hand of cards, build words, and buy patents on letters, which pay out when other people use your letters. I was a little disappointed about doing so poorly, but I love this game. I’d like to add it to my collection, if it weren’t so similar to other word games (that Carl won’t play with me). Shadow Hunters: This game is best played with a large group of people. I think we played with eight. You’re assigned a role of hunter, shadow, or neutral. Hunters and shadows are trying to kill each other, and neutrals each have different win conditions. You can try to figure out who’s who, and you can cause damage to others. It’s a fun game that I’ve played before. It has pretty simple mechanics, and it’s just a good party game. One Night Revolution: Based on Revolution, but happening faster, everyone has a faction, either rebel or informant, and a role, which include signaler and revealer and other things. Informants try to keep from being discovered, and rebels try to figure out who they are. It can be pretty quick, and it’s a fun puzzle game with lots of conversation. We played about eight rounds of it. Very fun. Herbaceous: Very pretty game. You cultivate herbs and plant them in herb boxes for various levels of points. It has simple mechanics, plays quickly, and has beautiful art. It was fun and pretty, a good palate cleanser. Elevenses: Another fairly simple game, it mimics morning tea. You have cards face-down and a few cards in your hand. You try to figure out where your high-value cards are and maximize your points, and each round ends when someone has three cards face-up and plays an elevenses card. It was sweet to play. Biblios: I was interested in playing this game to check it out for a friend. It turned out to be not that cool. You’re trying to build your collection of types of books in a scriptorium. Each person takes a card for herself, a card for the auction, and as many cards for the public offering as there are other people playing, and you go through the deck that way. The auction phase comes with buying cards. People bid on cards to add to their collection. It’s… okay. Not awesome. Harry Potter Hogwarts Battle: We only played two years of the game rather than all seven. Characters (Hermione, Ron, Harry, and Neville) try to fight villains and gain spells and items. It’s a cooperative deck-building game, and it was both fun and not too thrilling. I’m not sure I’ll play it again, but it was good enough as we went. Hardback: This is the “prequel” to Paperback, similar to Paperback but with some different mechanisms. This is going on Kickstarter in April, and if you don’t have Paperback already, you should look at both and decide which to get. Hardback involves buying cards that are one of four different genres - mystery, adventure, horror, and romance - and those cards give special powers when used together. It’s fun but still needs to be polished. It’s similar enough to Paperback to not make me need to buy it, but it could be a good option if you are looking for a word game. Sheriff of Nottingham: This is a bluffing game where you bring legal goods into the town and try to smuggle illegal goods in. Each person takes a turn as the sheriff, and as sheriff, you try to extract bribes from other players. It’s fun if you get into it and really live up your roles. I loved this game a year ago and enjoyed it this year too. Captain Sonar: This is a game for 2-8 players, and we played with all eight, two teams of four. Each team has a captain, a radio operator, a first mate, and an engineer. I was the engineer for two games and the first mate for one. It’s basically real-time Battleship with additional complexity. It was a lot of fun, though the dry erase markers basically stopped working while we were playing. It worked really well with eight players. Not a game I need to own, because I’m not sure I could find seven other people to play with. Broom Service: We played this with five players, and it was fun! This was my first time playing with more than two people, and it was quite enjoyable. It was tense trying to figure out if you should be cowardly or brave. The other people seemed to enjoy it too, one guy said it was his favorite game of the weekend. Artemis (simulation): This was a Star Trek bridge simulation with a crew of six. Five of us did it, and a random person joined us for it. I was the captain (yay!). We helped some Romulans and destroyed basically an entire Klingon fleet, then flew through an asteroid field on our way back. It was fun, and I’d like to try it again (and maybe go rogue). Stay tuned for another board game extravaganza in April!
Feb 2017board game review: Scythe
We brought Scythe home a few weeks ago, and we’ve played it a few times. We’ve played one 2-player and two 4-player games, and Carl played the automa version once. I think I can give a decent review of it now. There are some good tutorials on Scythe (see the Watch It Played video and errata here ), so I won’t talk in depth about how to play the game. But briefly, there are five factions and five player mats, for 25 combinations of play. Each faction has a special ability and slightly different powers, and each player mat has a different combination of basic and more expensive actions, and different costs for things. You gain stars (achievements) by gaining power or popularity, building, deploying mechs, winning combats, and other things. Everything–territories, resources, stars, building locations–is converted to coins at the end of the game, and the player with the most coins wins. For our first game, we were a little confused about the rules, and we did a few things wrong, particularly with workers (allowing workers to have encounters, letting workers do the special mech/character actions), but we got the gist of it, and our next games were more correct. In our last game, I won without building any buildings, and I almost broke 100 coins, but I think I bribed too many people. I felt like it was a pretty nice victory. There’s an achievement sheet that lets you write down your name next to winning scenarios, which makes victory even sweeter. The first few rounds are a little slow and offer little interaction with the other players, as you try to gather enough resources to do something useful, but once you get out of your little area, there is the potential for more interaction as it becomes a land grab and race to the factory. Combats are not as frequent as you might think, even with four players, and bribery is fun (and effective if done right). Carl says that the automa version needs more explicit instructions. While he was playing, he called me over a few times to find out what I thought was reasonable. I haven’t tried the automa version myself yet, but I will say so when I do. I LOVE this game. It’s complex enough to have many different winning scenarios, there’s a little bit of luck involved, and it speeds up as the game goes on. It’s not a simple game, and you have to play with people who REALLY like games, but it’s pretty great.
Feb 2017testing trainings - a comparison
In the past month, I’ve done two trainings on software testing: ASTQB’s Mobile Foundations course, and Satisfice’s Rapid Software Testing Applied course. The difference between them was marked. Like the SQE training I reviewed earlier and subsequent ISTQB test for the Certified Tester, Foundation Level, the mobile course was heavy on vocabulary and “best practices” and light on how to do a good job. It gave me things to think about, such as using simulators and emulators to increase coverage and getting cell data on some of our phones so our testing can be more real-life and more, well, mobile. But when it came down to it, a lot of the class was about the differences between web-based, native, and hybrid apps, and the risks involved in testing them. Looking at the risks that are inherent to the different types of apps was useful, but three days of vocabulary became a little wearisome. The test, which I took about a week and a half later, went just fine. It included a decision table, which took me by surprise, but the test wasn’t a big deal with a little bit of careful reading. I don’t have much more to say about the training or the test. I wasn’t planning on doing either, but then a spot was offered to me, so… it was fine. The training that I was really excited about, and that totally lived up to my expectations, was James Bach’s Rapid Software Testing Applied. We tested a vector graphics program called Inkscape, approaching it from some different angles. Each day was a combination of lecture, individual/team work, and review of that work. Some guys from another Utah company invited me to join their team, so I talked with them throughout the day and worked with them on the assignments. We talked about sanity testing, survey testing, risk analysis, coverage, deep testing, testing with tools, and how to report testing. It was a fascinating class, though I did receive criticism, both privately and then publicly the next morning, for some of my bug reports. (I still need to check with my developers to see if they’re annoyed by my reporting.) My ego was a little bruised, but I know he was trying to make me a better tester, and in the end, I appreciated (that might be too strong of a word) the criticism. This training brought out all my insecurities, particularly those surrounding tools, but I was also pleased to have some of my thoughts about testing affirmed. James Bach is something of an icon in software testing, and I really enjoyed learning from him. I’d like to take another RSTA class, as well as his lecture class of Rapid Software Testing. It’s possible I was just way more excited for RSTA, but I felt like I got more out of it as well. I really appreciated my company letting me do these trainings, particularly as they came so close together. I’m hoping to convince them to bring James Bach to Utah - that would just be fantastic.
Jan 2017a transition to agile
I joined a team at work that has moved to agile from waterfall. It was a high-performing team in waterfall, and now the team is figuring out how to get that same level of performance while doing agile. It’s been a struggle. I wasn’t with the team before, so I’ve only seen them in this transition phase. There’s lots of talk like, “This is how we’ve always done it, and we’ve been just fine,” and “We don’t need to be told how to do our jobs.” People are frustrated, and those of us who are trying to be cheerleaders and evangelists get shouted down frequently. One of the principles that has fallen by the wayside is the idea of face-to-face communication being the best way to get things done. We are theoretically co-located. One guy works out of a different office, but the other 14 of us are in the same room. However, we all work from home on Fridays, and most people take a second day at home too, on different days, and then when the weather is bad, people work from home, and if their kid is sick, they work from home, and if their elbow hurts, they work from home, and on and on. Only for first and last days of the sprint is everyone in the same room. When the idea of video calls has been raised, the response has been swift and negative. Emails, IMs, and the occasional Skype call are said to be sufficient, and the suggestion that more information can be transmitted by being able to see facial cues has been deemed irrelevant. They say, “Our communication has always been good, why do we need to change it?” like I mentioned above. (note: voice deliberately passive in this paragraph to obfuscate my own embarrassment) We’re struggling to figure out how to make our testing the most effective. On the one side, there are a couple who are all about automation, who see it as a point of pride that they haven’t touched a mobile device (which is what we test) for a long time. On the other side, there are people who don’t want anything to do with automation, who don’t want to do any kind of programming. And in the middle, there I am. I think automation is a means to an end. That if you have good enough automation, you can spend more time touching devices and doing session-based exploratory testing, to try to find bugs that would be difficult or impossible to find with automation. I think our coach basically believes this too, but the automation enthusiasts only hear that we need more automation, not that it is meant to facilitate better manual testing. It’s almost a culture war. I guess that one of the effects (benefits?) of agile is that you’re always going to be a little annoyed, a little frustrated, a little driven to (hopefully) improve. It comes from interacting with people so regularly, from needing to rely on working as a team. Differences in approach, in opinion, in work ethic, all come to the forefront, where they can theoretically be discussed. Perhaps one of the next phases of our agile development development (ha, see what I did there?) is to have those open and honest conversations without devolving into raised voices and accusations. That’s a difficult step that requires a lot of maturity from everyone involved, and even then, emotions and egos can still impair the productivity of those conversations.
Dec 20162016 roundup
2016 has been a mostly good year in my life, but it’s been a difficult one in our nation and our world. Memes abound anthropomorphizing 2016, and it seems like most people will be glad to see the year end. Whether 2017 will be any better, whether the world will even make it to 2018 is uncertain, but people hold out hope that next year has to be better than this one. In my personal life, I got my first non-law-related, work-for-someone-else job doing software testing. I think I’ve learned a lot, and I’m enjoying the work and the collegiality. I started doing volunteer work with a high school robotics team and a refugee resettlement organization. I became more involved at church, to the point of taking a leadership role in our early Sunday service. I got a diagnosis for my mental health issues that finally fits. I’m finding time to do things that I enjoy. It’s been a little rough trying to find “our people” here, and the search for friends makes me feel like I’m 5… or 11… ugh. So the year was mostly good. We saw friends and family, explored Utah, and spent lots of time just being us. But personal life aside… 2016 has been rough for our global society. Aside from all the cultural icons, musicians, and celebrities who have died, the year brought division and destruction, emboldening xenophobia and diminishing hope. I look at the trail we left behind in 2016, splattered with Syrian blood, refugee tears, and political mudslinging, and I fear for the future. I fear that the hatred we spewed in 2016 is only the beginning, that the trail we carve through 2017 will be just as bloody, wet, and muddy as the one we left behind us. I wish I had a way to make this better, that I had words of hope to speak, that I knew how things would turn out, but I’m still feeling hopeless and gutted. I do admire the people who have stepped up to create plans of action for resisting Trump. One example is the Indivisible Guide . It takes the aspects of the Tea Party that were very effective, action at the local level, and discusses how to execute them in opposition to Trump’s agenda. I have to believe that we can halt or at least stall the worst of his plans. The problems we’re facing as a world - the refugee crisis and the rise of xenophobia - seem too big and complicated to manage. I have a heart for refugees but understand the need to keep communities safe. The Australian attitude towards refugees is cruel, even malicious, but I fear Europe is headed in that direction. As for the situation in the States, we need to stop shouting into echo chambers and make sure our voices are heard by our members of Congress. We need to volunteer with and donate to organizations that resettle refugees and that advocate for their inclusion and their rights. Lutheran Immigration and Refugee Service and Catholic Charities are great organizations that I’ve worked with before. Some good came out of the year, but it seems to be mostly overshadowed by the bad. Here’s hoping 2017 brings mostly good things.
Dec 2016why I make music (and why I practice)
I’ve been making music since I was a small child. It started with singing, then included piano, flute, and double bass, and now I mostly just sing and play piano. Listening to music is a great pleasure, but making music is a deeper experience and emotion, joy and earnestness and connection. I’ve never considered myself a very creative person - my improvisation skills are worthless, and my compositions fall into a few standard categories with little innovation or depth. I gravitate towards the technical and enjoy concrete challenges. I’m not necessarily very good, but music is my lifeblood. I make music because I must. In the same way little kids burst into fits of dancing, I must express myself with music. Song bursts out of me, at mostly appropriate times. It’s how my soul expresses itself. It facilitates my communication with the world and with God. But I practice for other reasons. In part, I practice to improve, but in larger measure, I practice so I don’t distract. If you’re like me, you’ve heard performances that make you cringe or put you on edge, wondering if the next note will be in tune or out of control. Instead of hearing the music, you hear the technique. That’s just not a fun experience for anyone, the performer or the listener. And so I practice so that technique doesn’t get in the way of the music. Yes, I try to bring my own expression to the music, but people won’t notice that expression if they’re concerned about my technique. This came up as I was practicing for a solo for Christmas Eve. It wasn’t a big thing - just the first verse of Of the Father’s Love Begotten - but it was sung unaccompanied and alone. I found that I kept going sharp, and the key meant that the first few notes ran right over my lower passagio, so I practiced. Worked on it in coaching and my lesson. Thought I was going to be okay. But in the moment, I realized I hadn’t practiced enough for it to be muscle memory, and so I went (a little) sharp and sounded awkward on a note. Missed the expression I had been working on putting into it. I was disappointed, and the few people I mentioned it to (my husband, the organist, and the choir director) all said they had noticed my slip-ups. Granted, they were the ones most likely to notice, but still, I felt like I let myself down and took away from the experience of others. That kind of experience makes me want to practice, and practice more. It can become tedious, but the end result is usually worth it. I noticed a difference in the recitals from 2015. For the one in April, I practiced tons, and it went pretty well. For the one in October, I practiced less, and hearing the recording of it made me realize just how much practice improves everything. There’s something innocent about unpracticed song, but it is often tentative and not as expressive as it could be with study. I guess to sum up, I make music for myself, and I practice for others.