Conor and Kinko's

Conor's feelings about Kinko's are similar to my feelings about Radio Shack, but his description of the events that imspired these feelings are way more funny.

"I could have gotten about the same quality of service if I’d outsourced my printing needs to a palsied goat."

Read it all.

UPA: Idea Market Recap

(Once i can switch to the new version of Blogger that's in beta, I will tag posts like this as self-promotion)

In June 2006, I attended the UPA conference in Broomfield, CO. It was a really high quality conference met some great folks, heard good talks, got to have some quality hanging out time with queen irene.

I conducted an Idea Market about analyzing results from usability studies. An idea market is when you facilitate a discussion with conference attendees about an area of interest and capture what the thoughts and themes are...kind of like a focus group almost but quicker and in an informal way.

This topic is of interest to me for several reasons.

1. I think there are several aspects of usability studies that are "black boxes" if you will. Meaning that a lot of times there are certain aspects of running studies that people don't talk about. One of those areas is what you do once you have ran the study and need to make sense of the data.

2. When I teach usability testing this is the area that students often struggle with...ok, i've run a very good test and have piles of data...now what. So I was looking to get a better sense of how to talk about this crucial step with my students. I know how I do it, but that doesn't seem like a very effective pedagolocial stanse.

3. I also think that our field (whatever that is including these days) often ignores or does not consult the rich literature in qualitative research methodology. Not saying everthing about usability studies are qualitative, but much is.

Anyway, the idea market yielded quite a lively and interesting discussion. As I suspected, it turned out that the ways in which practioners analyze their data runs the gamut from using formal approaches like software such as Atlas ti to super informal like just kind of eyeballing it or jotting down recommendations during thes tudy itself and never doing a formal analysis phase.

The summary from the idea market and is now up on the UPA website, check it out if you are interested or email me (ejrose at u-dot-washington-dot-edu) if you have additional thoughts about the topic.

Woo hoo

The new Washington Department of Licesnsing web site just launched. It looks really, really great. I think one of the most attractive and useful state agency sites out there.

(Full disclosure, I did consult on this project.)

But that being said, I think that the team at the agency lead expertly by the wonderful Ms. P did an amazing job. It was a great project to be involved with and I'm proud to know the people who put their hearts into it.

A Bike Ride

Hey is anyone interested in doing this bike ride?

It's the Kitsap Color Classic held this year on Oct 1, which is a Sunday.

There are many loops to choose from (all on the Kitsap Peninsula) ranging from 14-64 miles in length. I'm thinking more the 14 or 25 mile loop.

Let me know if you are interested in doing it. Maybe we can get a group together.

UW scientists who disagree with Darwin

The Daily, which is the University of Washington's student paper published an article last week listing the names of 10 professors/Phd students who signed the Discovery Institute's petition which is a proponent of intelligent design.

Interesting stuff.

DFW loves Federer

And who doesn't love David Foster Wallace?

Roger Federer as Religious Experience

Overheard at Dim Sum

Young, late-teens, white male addressing a middle age white male with similar DNA over plates of shumai and chow mein:

"Oh my god Dad, it's not like I'm going to overdose. I'm not an idiot."

Dodgeball in Seattle

The Seattle PI has an article about Dodgeball which is mobile social software that allows you to physically broadcast your whereabouts in order to meet in person with frieds (and friends of friends). Turns out that Seattle is the third largest market for Dodgeball. The article profiles friends who are both early adopters and high level users of Dodgeball. From the article we can gather that the folks they are profiling are: most likely gay, work in high tech fields, have a high level of disposable income, and are on Dodgeball constantly. This article also makes it seem like usa of mobile social software is primarily to figure out which bar to go to.

So I'm wondering out there, have you used Dodgeball if so what for and why? And do you like it. If you haven't, does it sound appealing to you or not so much?

Barf

Barf
Originally uploaded by emjanero.

I was just looking at some of pics from Central Asia again and didn't see this the first time around. It's that oh so infamous brand of detergent: Barf!

Evidentally this brand name comes from the persian word for snow.

Next Generation Nepal

My friend Conor never ceases to amaze me. He just seems like he can do anything: move to Prague and "intern" at a think tank full of brilliant people (which was more like show up everyday and organize the paper clips until they put you in charge of an important project), quit fancy job to travel the world on his own volunteering, and then writing about the whole thing in a hee-larious fashion. Conor is taking all of his energy and devoting it to a new endeavor. Opening up a NGO called Next Generation Nepal which is (and I quote):

"Dedicated to rescuing and providing care for destitute and trafficked Nepalese children, especially refugees of the conflict, and reuniting children and their families separated by the effects of trafficking and civil war."

It's an amazing undertaking and a great cause.

Mountains in the distance

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After the conference (PDC 2006), a group of attendees decided to go for a day hike. The conference was in Trento, Italy which is the largest town in the region of Trentino in Northwest Italy. The city and the surrounding areas are breathtakingly beautiful. Not going on the hike seemed like a crime, so even despite the early 8am hour a group of 8 of us met in the piazza domo and then piled into two cars to head up further into the mountains. It was a good hike, not too challenging but challenging enough to feel sore the next day. We hiked up to a quaint restaurant set on teh top of the mountain and enjoyed a delicious meal including fried cheese (mmmm), mushrooms, sauerkraut, and polenta. Capping off the meal was a complimentary round of grappa which made the majority of the hike on the way down feel like floating.

Jetlag: a recreational drug

Everyone has their own theories about jet lag, how long it lasts, how to get over it etc. The often quoted stat (or urban legend) says something like one day for each hour of time difference. So that means I have 7 more days to go. Beth's theory of lots of light and keep moving is a good one and I've tried to follow that advice since getting home but it's just not working as well for some reason.

I've also heard it's harder to adjust coming this way (this way being west) and it definitely feels like it. But that also might be that when you travel and things are different feeling out of wack time wise is just another layer of feeling not at home or an otherness. Being back in Seattle where everything is familiar and routines are realigning themselves, I just feel a bit strange. Strange like I'm stoned or something, like everything is moving too slow. Jeremy and I tried to play tennis yesterday and I felt like nothing worked right, like my arms we're going in different directions and when it was his turn to serve my mind would just wander off and I'd forget that we were in the middle of a game.

We are in the market for a new bed which is a long story, but none the less we are. Jeremy coaxed me out of the zombie zone I was in and we went down to the new mattress store on Capitol Hill. It was good to get out of the house and get some coffee and walk around and try to feel normal. Jeremy observed that maybe the timing wasn't right, maybe shopping for beds when you are jet lagged is like shopping for groceries when you are hungry. He might have been right, each bed and mattress combo looked more and more welcoming especially the more expensive and fancy and "european pillow topped" they got. We managed to avoid buying one but got a sense of prices so now its off to look for bargains online.

But the jetlag makes it very hard to concentrate on anything for any amount of time. Although, I did just spend 20 minutes watching sassy try to catch a fly that's buzzing around the living room. Very productive.

Note to self: What I think is funny might frighten people I’ve just met

We were planning the hike for the Sunday after the conference. I was chatting with a number of fellow hikers. We were strategizing over lunch on which beautiful location might be the best, and for how long. It seems like one of the cool things about hiking in Italy is that many hikes are planned to hike to a hotel or restaurant in the woods, have some lunch then hike back. There was even one hike (that we didn’t choose) that’s actually to a setting where there is a concert, right out in the middle of the woods. Like the little nymphs and fairies are waiting to play us a show or something.

So our little group was getting along quite well, the conversation was relaxed and amiable. One of the people in the group wanted to know what else we should bring: water, sunscreen, snacks, etc. The leader of our hike said yes, snacks are good – if for some reason we don’t make it to our destination and have to turn back then having something to eat might be a could idea. I also observed that this might be helpful so as to prevent us from having to turn to cannibalism. My comment was met with some strange looks. This was my attempt at humor, but I think that maybe you need to make connections with people that have lasted longer that 20 minutes before you can start joking about eating one another’s flesh.

Blame it on the Dolomites

You know I made fun of the Americans who said Venice was like Vegas, and I stand by that. But now that I’m out of the city, I do see some similarities in the experience. Mainly that if you only visited Las Vegas you might walk away with the impression that most Americans are smoking, gambling, buffet eating, consumers. Not realizing that Americans only do that on vacation. Except for the consumer stuff. Well and the buffets, ok this argument is breaking down quickly. But my point is that if I would have left Italy after visiting Venice, I may have thought that all Italians drive (?) gondolas while singing proudly, or that it’s pastime of most countrymen to paint themselves white and stand motionless in squares – and I’d be dead wrong!

While I was waiting at the Venice train station, sitting on my enormous pile of luggage. A friendly face woman comes up and asks if I’m enjoying the book I’m reading. We started chatting and it turned out we’d be on the same train departing in the next hour. Her husband joined us and after introductions were made it turned out that they were Californians. Yeah for Californians! The both worked at UC Santa Barbara and were traveling around Italy and Europe for a month. Yeah for west coast liberal academics! We spent a nice time chatting on the train until it was their time to depart an hour outside of the city to stay with their friend. The conversation had killed an hour of my three hour train trip and renewed my love of my fellow countrymen. See people, stereotypes are bad! Unless they are stereotypes about groups you might like, for example: west coast liberal academics, then it’s just a handy shortcut.

I was going to go back to reading, but the next two hours I was transfixed by the scenery. We rolled through a valley with mountains on each side, the craggy, sharply cut, Dolomites with stone houses and castles balanced on the corners of precipices. Once again, I inappropriately reminded myself to come camping here. Like it was driving distance or something. I also thought about the camping gang back home and started to miss everyone.

I’m also glad I signed up for the post-conference hike on Sunday, it would be a shame to be here in this beautiful place and only stay in the town. And the town is surprisingly lacking in gondolas, motionless street performers, and hoards of pigeon feeding tourists. It’s pretty amazing, just winding streets, little shops, a handful of churches, oh yeah and a castle that will hold our conference’s welcome reception. I can’t wait until later when I can use the expression “see you later at the castle!” to someone I meet at the conference. Kind of like that feeling of when I was leaving on the trip and chatting with Beth on the phone and saying: “see you tomorrow in Istanbul” – unreal!

Voices in my head

While walking around Venice, I had an idea to pitch a travel show called “Americans say the stupidest things!” It could be played on planes as part of the in flight entertainment when you leave the US on an international flight. It could replace that ridiculous show they currently play, it’s some comedy show from Quebec called “Gags! Just for Laughs” or something like that. The shows has situations where unknowing people engage in some task trying to be helpful and some strange wacky thing would happen and then hilarity would ensue. The one I saw on this trip included hi-jinks such as a little boy asking strange women to help him cut up the food on his plate, when they would offer to help, he had a little tube that would squirt ketchup all over his shirt. Hilarious! Another one involved having unsuspecting delivery men, deliver a pizza to a port-a-potty (or as you northwesterns call them "Honey Holes"). The port-a-potty had an address on the outside and when they knocked someone would answer the door with a pipe and take the pizza from them. Oh those wacky Canadians! Anyway, after my time in Venice, I just wanted to track English speakers catching them in their finest moments when traveling abroad.

After being in a language bell jar for the past week or so, only catching snippets of the conversation (in Russian mostly) it was very odd to be back eavesdropping on English speakers. First of all, I must say that my strong reaction has to be partly attributed to the jetlag-addled mind. I’ve determined that when I’m exhausted my mind starts to go just a little bit and I get these thoughts that pop into my head that I have to work really hard against censoring. It’s kind of interesting and once I realize that’s what’s going on. It’s almost fun to see what my mind comes up with.

The first example of this was a couple years back when Jeremy and I were hiking in the Alaskan backcountry in Denali National Park. Each morning we’d pack up the tent, strap on the gear and make our way across the tundra, weaving in and out of animal paths. It was a stunningly beautiful and serene scene. Well, except for what was going on in mind. Usually around after 6-7 hours of hiking with a 50lb pack on it would start to happen. These little thoughts would creep in. And I have to say this wasn’t a one-time occurrence. It happened on consecutive days of hiking. I would also like to state for the record that I’m a pretty stable person, or at least I like to think so. So somewhere around the 6 hour mark, I would start to think, ‘Hmmm my bag is starting to feel pretty heavy, boy am I tired. It’s going to be good to set up camp and not walk for a while.’ You know, relatively normal thoughts for a challenging hiking trip. Then it would be back to negotiating the tundra or singing loud off key songs, to keep the bears away. Then the thoughts would come back. “Man, my bag is really heavy. It’s definitely heavier that yesterday. I wonder why it’s so heavy today.” Then, do-de-do, spot an elk, ford a stream, the hike would continue. Then the thoughts would start back up. “There is no way that my pack was this heavy when we left. Why isn’t Jeremy as exhausted as I am?” Then, the really spooky part would start. “I bet he snuck extra stuff into my pack when we stopped to break.” Just like that this weird little blamey thought that I would try and fight back with logic. “No, that’s crazy, he is carrying even more than I am. He has the tent.” But the more tired I got, the more part of my brain would be utterly convinced that Jeremy was sneaking gear and clothes and what not into my bag. This back and forth would usually only last about an hour, because we’d typically stop for the night by then. As soon as we stopped the crazy thoughts would vanish and we’d settle in for another wonderful night in the ever present light, in the wilderness, miles from anywhere. Now you might be wondering, wow, what was Jeremy’s reaction to all of this. And that’s a good question, but of course I didn’t tell him. Well, not on that trip. I told him months afterward. I mean I didn’t want him to think I was nuts. At least not in that regards.

So, returning to Venice. The Alaskan example seems not to be an isolated incident, but instead emblematic of how my mind starts to slip when I’m exhausted. From Bishkek to Venice was about 20 hours of travel, with two plane changes (Istanbul and Vienna). On getting to Venice it was another hour and a half by water taxi to the city, then a 15 minute walk through the small streets to find my hotel. So, sleep deprivation, check! Heavy ass bags, check! (This is another lesson. To preserve my sanity it would be a lot better to pack light. I thought I did, but I was wrong. Compounding that I didn’t really pack light to begin with I was also carrying 4 extra outfits I had bought in the Dardoi Bazaar in Bishkek when my luggage was lost for four days. In addition, I was armed with a considerable amount of paper from the research we’d conducted. And finally, in the recent flight leg my backpack had lost it’s waist strap in transit, which meant that the entire bag’s weight was being supported by my shoulders. It created the sensation, not unlike a muscular male cheerleader standing on my shoulders doing cheers – I haven’t had this experience, but I imagine the feeling being similar.) I found my hotel and carried my stuff up two really steep stairs to my teeny cosy room and collapsed. It was around 3pm and I had probably about 2 hours of sleep in the previous couple days.

The key to jetlag according to Beth is twofold: lots of sunlight and continuous motion. So it was imperative to keep walking in the sunshine which was easy to do in Venice since it's a mesh of interconnected streets and bridges that twist around the city.



The tourists were feeding pigeons in Piazza San Marco with fist fulls of bird seed that vendors would sell by the bag full for half a euro. The pigeons, being pretty smart at least in the task of eating, ended up being pretty tame. So the piazza was chocked full of people and pigeons in very close vacinity. And you know how boys of a young age love to run at pigeons at top speeds and then the birds fly away. Well here in Venice the pigeons have learned that eventually the boys will pull up and not run into them, so they don't fly away...unless you are really really close to them then at the last minute they will take off and perhaps bump into surrounding objects. And when I say objects I'm including jetlagged and dazed wandering people, such as myself. So walking through this beautiful example of architecture, I couldn't help be less than pleased to have the soft thump thump of pigeons bouncing off me as they took to flight. Also, when I say less than pleased I mean utterly grossed out. So this is how we return to the voices in my head part. I was trying not to scream out at the kids "Stop - you are just encouraging them!" At one point in my travels through the piazza, I saw a largish seagull feasting on a pigeon. There was blood and feathers everywhere as the shocked and offended tourists try to shield their children from the bloodletting. At this point, I had to refrain from yelling "That's what you get!"

So back to the idea for my show. I just wanted to share some of the choicest overheard quotes from Americans:
-“You know it really does look a lot like Vegas” (i heard this one twice, I swear)
-“Does that come with fries?”
-“I’m bored! – say like a screeching pre-teenager”
-"We're in Italy, we don't have to tip anyone here"
- Over enunciating words in English at a deafening volume to attempt to make oneself understood, this is not limited to Americans. I heard a British woman ordering gelato and shouting: “CHOC-O-LAT! CHOC-O-LAT!” like it was an air raid or something.

I think my level of annoyance should be correlated to my state of exhaustion, but maybe not.

Words to live by

One day while out in Bishkek, I realized I needed a notepad for taking notes (mine was back in the apartment). We bought a couple downstairs in one of the underpasses that allows pedestrians to bypass the busy street and works as sort of an shopping center.
The one I choose has the following phrase

“Look forward every day and you ll have a new starting-point everyday.”

Boxed wine, Italian style

Italian Boxed Wine
Originally uploaded by emjanero.

This is for Shawn. Look, it’s the milk box wine! I’m guessing that you have the Italians to thank for your favorite camping beverage.