P.S. It’s A Good Day For Linux

My programmer is happy. The following goodies got released or mentioned in the news (and now that I have discovered the intense, brain-melting joy of extreme information overload via an RSS aggregator) I get to jump up and down on the bed with the latest tidbits-essentially beating him to the scoop and waking him up early. I know, I’m a competitive, little witch.

Anyway:

IBM announced they’re going to support Ubuntu, and so the, may I say trend?, continues of big companies tiptoeing into the Linux sphere. The rest of the article talks about Lotus…when did Lotus come back? I swear I thought it died a silent death in the 90s.

A new version of Ubuntu is out. Yeah, it’s just a maintenance release. But I’m currently in love with Ubuntu, that is until I break something irrevocably in it and have a temper tantrum. Breaking things is my super power. I’ve been known to crash the Linux kernel, causing a look of wonder and awe to cross my programmer’s face.

Not the newest of news, but KDE 4.0 was released last week. It won’t be useful for me as 4.0 seems to be geared more to the cutting edge user at the moment (so not me, but I’m sure my programmer is already all over it).

Storing Your Life On A ClipBoard

I have to admit that making the switch from Windows to a Linux operating system years ago was not without curses, lost files, and a few divaish temper tantrums. In the beginning, when a deadline was getting dangerously close, there were one or two late night scream and tearfests that usually were started with:

“In Windows, option X is on menu Y, where the F@$# did this primitive, free-piece-O-crap Linux thing put it?”

Patiently, my programmer would show me what I was looking for and where it was stored by Linux or its associated programs. Programs, options, and actions are usually located in a more logical place on a Linux box (though not always). I was only looking for things where Microsoft had trained me to.

Through the years and several Linux distributions (RedHat, SUSE, Linspire, and lately, Ubuntu) I learned where to find (most) things on a Linux box, how to use the programs, and even how to install the OS. (I still can’t figure out how to tell when my hard drive is almost full though, until of course, I can’t save my latest document, and once again a deadline is looming.) One of the things I have always loved about Linux distributions (at least the ones I have used) is a little program called Klipper (part of KDE’s base set of libraries). Klipper is a clipboard that saves everything that you have highlighted, cut or copied regardless of the program you’re in, switching to, or closing (i.e. Klipper is tied to the operating system, not a particular program, such as Open Office). Klipper can save (at least on my computer) up to 2048 entries. Don’t think you want or need that many things saved, trust me, I’ve dug through Klipper for websites, important names, dates, and paragraphs I deleted a week ago and suddenly decided I needed again.

So why am I getting all warm and fuzzy regarding a simple, little cut and paste program? Partially due to Jeff Atwoods’ recent post, Reinventing the Clipboard, and because of a panicky, Windows related phone call I received this morning.

Mr. Atwood states:

“…we’re stuck with the same old single-item clipboard model. The clipboard isn’t some obscure operating system feature, either. People use it all the time.”

Mr. Atwood seems to be working in Windows world, which is fine, what just really surprises me is that since 2000 (the last time I used Windows) Microsoft’s operating system is still so…primitive. How can one survive with just one thing saved in their clipboard? I cut things from five different documents, the web browser, and then rearrange all the snippets in, say, an email. If I did things one at a time, I’d be switching between workspaces and programs for HOURS (okay, that might be a bit of an exaggeration). And let’s not forget my extreme “highlight and delete” Tourette syndrome symptom. Nine or ten cuts (or days) later, I decide I need that paragraph back, and Klipper saves the day (and my sanity).

Klipper doesn’t meet all of Mr. Atwoods’ criteria for the perfect clipboard. It satisfies his desire for history (2048 entries or whatever number you specify up to the maximum). It is persistent (all your entries are still on the board after an operating system shut down or restart). His third point, visual browsing, is where Klipper falls short. By clicking on the clipboard symbol in my desktop tool bar, I can see a list of my most recent text cuts, however, it does not show a thumbnail of graphics I have cut or even that the graphics are sitting on the clipboard. Ahh, but shortcomings like this are what keep developers employed.

So, as stated my Mr. Atwoods’ post, Windows has failed to evolve, at least on the cut and paste frontline, which leads me to this morning’s coincidental phone call. A Windows-using friend called in panic, having lost a number of hours of work due to a ‘permissions error’ that occurred when he was trying to save a document. The computer summarily crashed. He’d originally called for my programmer, but it being before noon, the programmer was still asleep, and my friend was stuck with my second-hand, nontechnical knowledge. He was asking where the document might have gone.

“The tmp file?” I suggested. “No wait, I think it’s called temp on Windows.”

“How do I find that?” he asked.

“Places.”

“Huh?”

“Oh, sorry,” I mumbled, searching my memory. “Um, the file browser…File Explorer!”

“Um, no, don’t see that,” he said.

“How do you view your documents?” I asked.

“In Word.”

“Ahh.” Yeah, I had no response to that gem. “How about a search? Doesn’t Windows have a Search in its pull down menu?”

I finally remembered something useful and my friend used that, though to no avail; the file was just gone.

He cussed, then said, “I had just copied the text, too, ready to send it to a client in an email. If only I’d sent the email before saving…”

“Oh!” I got all excited. “You can still paste it then. It’s saved in your clipboard!”

No such luck. Lack of persistence bit my friend in the ass. And where the hell has File Explorer gone? Maybe Windows is actually de-evolving into gooey, primordial bits and bytes.

Death Due To Lack of Swap

Alternate title: Somebody better re-boot my programmer real quick or blood, guts, RAM, and little green boards will be strewn all over the office.

Mark O’Neill is blogging about my life on Geeks Are Sexy ^TM. His post, When all that’s left is to re-boot your day, is cutting awful close to home as I listen to the moans, groans, curses, and other unintelligible mutters from the office next door, aka my programmer’s cave. I think programmers are rather prone to days that go all to shit. They go to bed late, therefore the wake up late, setting them up for trudging into that engineering meeting fifteen minutes after they were meant to give a status report and without having gotten down their second cup of coffee. Their computers are always crammed with cutting edge products and beta releases, a toxic recipe for errors, conflicts, and system meltdowns. Instead of designing the scope for their latest project, they’re busy submitting bug reports because their new hydrogen powered keyboard doesn’t work quite right with the latest release of Redhat. In frustration they pound said keyboard into the desk, spilling that last precious drop of coffee all over their papers. They’re now coffeeless because they never told their adoring wife that they had used the last of the coffee…and milk…and sugar. And so the day goes on: angry boss, angry co-workers, angry clients, angry wife, and most of all an angry, frustrated, caffeine-deprived programmer. Rinse and Repeat (he stayed up until 6 AM because he insisted on making that keyboard work).

I’m going to print Mr. O’Neill’s post and tape it to my husband’s forehead in a few minutes. Unfortunately, I don’t know if a fifteen minute nap is going to do it for my programmer today. Why not, even though he desperately needs the sleep? Because the same laptop will be waiting for him when he wakes up.

Until a week ago, my programmer had a large, black IBM something or other. Somehow or another the memory was slowly being corrupted. He turned the laptop into the company he was working for and than summarily quit (not because the laptop sucked, though). The problem: I cracked the motherboard on his personal laptop about a year ago. It collects dust on a bookshelf. So me, being all sweetness and light, offered to let him use my laptop until he picks out a new laptop for himself. New problem, my cute little System76 can’t cut it. Don’t get me wrong, it works for me just fine, but all I’m running is Open Office and Firefox. My programmer’s got Eclipse, IDEA, Java, Oracle, consoles, documents, Gimp, and three other things I can’t identify running. And, according to him, System76 didn’t configure the computer to have any swap.

Swap? What are we swapping? Does this mean I get my poor little computer back?

So today, I would desperately love to re-boot my husband. But that’s only a temporary solution. What I really need is for someone to give me laptop advice. Something that doesn’t come with Windows (or Mac OS X), doesn’t cost as much as a mortgage payment, something that can run twenty or more RAM sucking programs at once, and something where I can’t crack the motherboard.

Please, take mercy on a simple girl, and send me some laptop ideas. Or the world might just lose a gifted programmer today. No re-booting will save him. Somebody’s primary hard disk will never be found again…

(No programmers were hurt or will be hurt due to this post, but my little temper tantrum just now sure felt good.)

Drowning In RSS Feeds

You’re all in trouble.  I’m venturing into this-what my programmer calls-Web 2.0 world.  A few days ago I tried my hand at subscribing to RSS feeds using Google Reader.  For all of those who are as behind as I am, RSS stands for Really Simple Syndication.  News websites, blogs, companies, etc. spit out feeds that list their latest posts.  Readers can subscribe to feeds using an aggregator (like Google Reader) to list the headlines/latest posts from all their favorite websites in one place.  I’m only using Google Reader because I knew it existed.  By no means do I know if it is the best, most versatile, or sexiest.  I’m just experimenting.

Like most people who play with naughty things, I’ve become addicted-to the concept of RSS.  It is so awesome not to have to go to the fifteen or so websites that had been part of my daily ritual.  The problem is, I may have become a little too excited.  I subscribed to whole categories…and just about everything else that sounded even vaguely interesting.  So now, after only three days, I have over 1000 unread items in my aggregator.

However, that makes me really excited; I have so much I want to comment on!  And that’s why you’re in trouble.

Late Night Email Dialogues: Locating The Mouse

My programmer emails me when I’m just down the hall. Fast asleep. He comes to bed at 4 AM (a bona fide night owl he often declares with glee). Me, I’m on the reverse schedule. To bed by 11 PM, up by 8 AM. Waiting in my inbox is always a collection of his late night thoughts.

Three emails waited for me this morning from my programmer.

Email time stamp: 1:31 AM

From: The programmer

To: Anya

“Scrape me off the floor, I am laughing so hard Check out this blog…”

This statement is in reference to my The Programmer And The Treadmill post. What I found hilarious was the fact he was emailing me my own post. He doesn’t/didn’t know I had a blog.

Next email:

Time stamp: 1:38 AM

“What’s even funnier is that it wasn’t until a couple minutes later I realized that this was your blog. I’m like, “wow, this is soooooo true!” Then it was like too true…and then my half asleep mind finally realized that it was your blog…”

Uh, oh. My secret is out.

Third email:

Time stamp: 1:40 AM

“Hey, that’s my mouse! I’ve been looking for it…can I have it back now?”

Just like a techie. Not: “Hey, I’ve never seen that lingerie, wanna wear it for me tonight, baby?” Or: “How dare you bare your bosoms on the internet!”

No, no. He just wants to know where his mouse is.

Wouldn’t he like to know…

The Programmer And The Treadmill

I’m searching for a treadmill. Running is the only exercise that counters my cake, pie, donut, and soda addictions. My weakness (besides sugar): I hate the cold, and it has been damn cold on the east coast this week. So I did some research and set out to try a few models, programmer in tow. My husband is not a runner, in fact, he hates running as he’s always instantly attacked by the dread shin splint demon. (Me, I’m a freaking Clydesdale-no shin splints, turned ankles, or pulled hammies). Anyway, my husband doesn’t need to run, he’s a toothpick. I’m always trying to feed him (but the care and feeding of a programmer is fodder for a whole slew of other blog posts).

Back to my convoluted story. My husband was just along for the ride because we were going to get dinner afterward. I’m grilling the salesperson while my programmer is grumbling at the television hanging from the ceiling (his football team lost in the playoffs).

The salesperson utters the words of death: “This model has several programs and can keep track of your progress.”

No shit, I could hear my husband’s neck crack he swung his head around so fast. “It has programs?” he asked, his gaze instantly glued to the treadmill’s console.

I started waving my hands, ineffectively. “No, no-you can’t program it that way,” I said.

But it was too late. He was pressing buttons, trying things out, and I could imagine where his brain was going…”it has buttons, it has a motherboard, it has a display, I wonder if I can load Linux on it”.

Hubby says the next evil words, “maybe I will use it.”

Gleefully, the salesperson suggests the next model up as there will now be two runners.

I don’t need the next model up. What I need is two treadmills. One for me to run on. One for my husband to load Linux on.

Words of wisdom: Don’t take your programmer shopping for anything with circuitry, no matter how uninterested they seem in the product. You never know what convoluted plan their brain will concoct after hearing the sales pitch.

Spread A Little Love, Programmer Style

Just because a programmer is starry-eyed and seemingly, completely absorbed with the latest release of Firefox or a new software framework (Seam (has nothing to do with sewing), Ruby (I’m not talking about a sparkly you can put on your finger), or Spring (not the season or something you can bounce on) doesn’t mean he or she isn’t cooking up ways to show the profoundness of their love for their spouse. Programmers just might not declare their love via traditional methods (flowers, candy, sparklies from an honest-to-goodness jewelry store). Heads up, programmers: BestBuy is not a jewelry store, a thumb drive on a lanyard doesn’t say quite the same thing as a string of pearls.

But programmers are very, very good at showing their spouses how much they love them using their techie skills.

Take Jay McCormack for example, a Solution Architect in Australia. I’m not quite sure what a Solution Architect is, but his blog contains words that my programmer uses (IMAP, Web 2.0, Open Source), so Jay’s getting shoved into my programmer classification. On his blog, he has a lovely, toe-curling (men, when a woman curls her toes, it’s a VERY good thing) accolade to his wife-he’s telling the whole world he can’t live without her. And while he’s the techie, I get the impression he’s hugely amused that his wife’s website is leaving his in the dust (think the almighty page rank quest).

So, programmer, use your unique skills to show your love. For example:

1. Write a blog entry about how much you love your wife (or husband).

2. Design a webpage for her own personal use (if she wants one), or make a private blog where the two of you can engage in digital flirting in your own personal cyberscape.

3. Bring home goodies from your conferences-sure the T-shirts and thumb drives are branded with logos she’s never seen, but she’ll know you were thinking about her even when you were getting bombarded with the latest and greatest technology.

4. Make sure she has her own techie stuff (i.e. the computer she wants (not your cast-off or what you think is best for her), a new mouse, her own girly mouse pad, an ergonomic chair made for her butt).

5. Ask her for a picture for your office (she’ll go all gooey that you want to show her off to your co-workers). Use her picture as your background on your monitor.

The Great Operating System Debate…

…and how it affects your life once you move in with the love of your life-your programmer.

Let’s look at my operating system timeline as an example.

Late ’90s: I discover computers; computers loaded with Windows. I muddle through email, WordPerfect, and become addicted to Civilization (one of my few claims to geekdom).

2000: Dating my programmer in earnest. He moves in. My computer becomes “duel booted”. When I start the computer I can choose to use the latest version of Windows or Linux.

2000-2002: Viciously defending my Windows partition. Not because I care whether I use Windows, Linux, or any other OS, but I LOVE playing my games. My line in the shag carpet: I’ll switch to Linux completely when I can still play my games. My programmer proposes.

2002: The programmer subscribes to and installs Transgaming’s Cedega^TM, sets it up on my computer so all my favorite games run, and Windows takes a permanent hike. I marry my programmer.

2002-present: Happily living in an Ubuntu computer environment.

The point of this example is not which OS I’m using, but the fact that I don’t really give a crap (sorry, love). I’ve heard the Pros and Cons for every OS debated heatedly (over beer, of course). The arguments start off technical (Linux is too hard to install) and usually disolve into personal attacks. Steve Jobs is an egotistical kook. Or, as an Apple Fanboy states in why he thinks Macs rock (and therefore Windows sucks):

“Bill Gates is evil. How can you pay the Devil?”

I nod, I grunt in agreement or sympathy regardless of which OS is being vilified or worshiped, but my eyes are glazed over and I’m secretly wondering where the waitress got her awesome sneakers.

So how do you stay sane when your computer is about to be hijacked by an unfamiliar OS?

1. Lay down the ground rules. Let your programmer know what programs you cannot live without. Do you need a special graphical or statistics program? Do you need certain games in order to relax? Do you want plug and play capability for your camera or MP3 player? Make sure you tell them your specifications. It won’t make the programmer mad-if anything, they’ll see it as a quest, to see if they can find equivalent programs or a way to use them with their OS of choice.

2. Get your programmer to sit down with you and run through the system, showing you what is the same and what is different. Be very clear that you just want to know how the programs work-not why they work. Side Note: This is where I arouse the ire of programmers everywhere; I see little difference between what I call the big three (Mac OS X, Windows Vista, and, say, a Linux distribution like Ubuntu). Macs are really bubbly, Windows looks like a Kindergarten class bulletin board, and Linux distributions range in looks between bubbly and elementary. They all have office suites, they all can surf the internet, they all store your files. Yeah, yeah, I know they all do these things differently behind the scenes, but I’m really not interested as long as it works.

3. View this as an adventure. Don’t be afraid to learn something new. Remember, learning new skills may keep dementia and Alzheimer’s disease at bay. Also, you’ve now got another skill to put on your resume.

4. Not willing to compromise or don’t trust your programmer to obey your technology wishes? Come up with a really good login password and don’t tell your programmer. Threatening to delete all his or her MP3s also works (yes, I had to stoop to threats at one point).

Is That A Mouse Nestled In Your Cleavage?

So I finally dreamed up an avatar…

The Programmer gasps excitedly.

“Is that an optical, USB mouse in your bra?” he asks while his eyes lovingly caress the delicately curved, sleek plastic.

“Can I click it?”

“Oh, yeah,” she sighs dreamily. “Click me, baby!”

Okay, so I’ve got a strange sense of humor. Other odd things I discovered after sneaking away with my husband’s mouse for my naughty, nefarious purpose: A mouse-optical, USB, or otherwise-will not enhance your bust size, nor is it comfy. It’s a little cold and doesn’t curve to, well, your curves. On the other hand, if you stuff electronics into your bra (or if you’re a man, in the waistband of your boxer briefs) , you will grab your programmer’s attention.

Go ahead, let him click it…

Pursued by a Lusty Programmer (aka Dating)

I mentioned in my first post, What is a Programmer, that dating a programmer is very different from cohabitating with a keyboard-caressing code maestro. Programmers typically possess terabytes of focus. And let me tell you, having that all-consuming mind directed at you is wonderful, ego-inflating, and possibly love-inducing. He/she pursues you, hangs on to your every word, sends gifts (and ten emails per day), and devotes days, nights, and weekends to spending time with you. Sure, they may be a little unfashionable (the first time I met my future husband he was wearing too-short, faded navy dockers his mom had bought him in middle school-the boy had been out of middle school for a good ten years), those gifts are sometimes a little strange (T-shirts touting computer companies and products), but they remember the things you like, research them, and then take you to a new French restaurant (your favorite kind of cuisine) and get those coveted Broadway tickets.

Programmers LISTEN - when they’re dating you.

However, on the most basic level of the programmer’s mind, you are a problem to be solved. They want you. They NEED you. Therefore they are going to allocate all their resources to getting you. Once they’ve acquired you (project objectives: complete), they’re moving on to the next problem.

They still love you. They still lust after you. The relationship has just shifted into the maintenance phase. The programmer only checks back when a bug is filed (i.e. you’re having a hissy fit about the dirty socks hanging off the stairway railing).

Don’t worry. If you decide to let your programmer catch you, I have tons of tips I’ll share later on how to live (and stay sane) with your programmer.