Archive: Geeky

Lady Susan asked:

So this isn’t a question, but rather a request: I would like to see examples of these rather infamous spreadsheets of yours.

and Aleta added:

Do you keep a spreadsheet for blog post topics? (I second the request to see examples! of any kind of spreadsheet.)

To answer the easy part first, no, I do not keep a spreadsheet for blog post topics. I do have some long-standing drafts waiting in the folder to be filled in, but I don’t have an organized Master Plan.

As for the spreadsheet samples … well … I thought long and hard about this. I wasn’t sure what would be most generally useful, and I don’t like slogging through details without a degree of certainty that people will hang in there with me. Besides, do we all mean the same thing when we say “spreadsheet”? This is not a formal definition, but I call information organized into columns and rows a table, whereas a spreadsheet is a table that involves automatic calculation by way of formulas or macros. Anyway, after all of that deliberation, I decided to go through the basics of one type of spreadsheet I use a lot and then field questions from there. Okay? Okay.

Let’s jump right in to the spreadsheet I use most often, which I call “deposit-debit.” Continue reading →

JG and I went through the normal rituals of preparing for the volleyball season: I set up his tryouts spreadsheet and proofed his mail merge document, he spent a morning at the school hauling out equipment, and we both confirmed the volleyball dates in the calendar. However, the season never really feels like it has started until JG has made the cuts, the girls are playing matches, and I am knitting feverishly. So, as of this week, volleyball season has begun in earnest.

From a field of 50, JG winnowed down to 25 girls for the varsity and JV teams. They have already played in two matches, and they have two more left this week before a daylong tournament on Saturday. I am on working the third scarf out of eight with a deadline of October 19 for the senior game, which is a mere six weeks away. I have committed myself to two hours of knitting each day in hopes of keeping my head above water. Thank goodness that the new fall television season is starting soon.

The team’s assistant coach e-mailed me last week:

To: RA
From: Assistant Coach

Ready for v-ball season? Have you started your scarves yet? I am making the girls hair ribbons — a volleyball print with their numbers on them.

To: Assistant Coach
From: RA

I have started the scarves! I have one completely done and one knitted that needs tasseling, so if I keep up this pace, I should be good. As for the rest of vball season, I am going full-steam ahead on stocking up freezer meals. So far, I have made and frozen chili, two kinds of pasta sauce, and four dinners of dumplings. It’s like we are preparing for a siege.

Ah, yes, the last volleyball ritual: stocking the freezer. When JG’s schedule takes him all over the state for matches, I’m on my own for making dinner, and I can not handle a full meal’s worth of chopping and cooking every night. My solution is to cook in bulk over the course of several weeks and ration out the frozen packages to give me a break once in a while. If my calculations are right, we can afford to eat at least one meal from the freezer every week (maybe even two, if I am careful) and still have plenty for the entire season. Last year’s freezer is a pale version of this year’s stockade:

• 3 quarts of pasta sauce with meat
• 2 quarts of pasta sauce without meat
• 4 cups of pizza sauce, separated into 3 portions
• 2 quarts of chili
• 4 dinner portions of pork potstickers
• 2 1-pound bags of spinach and cheese ravioli

From this selection of food, I can make at least a dozen dinners with minimal hassle. At the risk of bordering on insanity, I added a tab to our meal-planning spreadsheet to keep inventory of the freezer to avoid creating mysterious items in the freezer crypt. On our actual meal plan tab, I have a Defrost column where I indicate which things need to be moved from freezer to fridge and when.

When faced with busy weeks like this one (three matches and a tournament) and next week (three matches plus Back to School Night), seeing my list of potential dinners makes me breathe a little more easily. Tonight, I am steaming a portion of dumplings for dinner, and the rest of the meal will take care of itself once I put rice on the stove and blanch some edamame. No chopping for me, thank you!

I take an inordinate measure of satisfaction in ladling out portions of soup or sauce into freezer bags  pre-labeled with the contents and date, sealing them firmly, chilling them in the fridge, and freezing them flat until they become firm, stackable tiles just waiting to be reconstituted into dinners. I concede that it’s crazy, but these times call for desperate measures.

Sometimes, JG’s students will goad a reluctant volunteer to ask, “Mr. JG, have you seen that show about the nerds? You kind of remind us of one of the characters.”

Then JG has to break it to them that, yes, we do watch The Big Bang Theory, and that student is hardly the first to bring up his resemblance to Sheldon Cooper.

Later, he always asks me, “I’m not really like that, am I? I’m not as arrogant or condescending as Sheldon, right?”

“Well,” I say slowly. “You, ah, are both very tall and thin. And you have the same hairline. I’m sure that’s what the kids mean.”

In that vein, I ordered JG a shirt for Valentine’s Day this year that elucidated the show’s version of Rock-Paper-Scissors. Thrown off by the decoy model (Dewey is 5’9”! He wears a Large!), I ordered a size too big, and so I went to the Cafepress site right away to submit an exchange request. In less than two hours, I received the following e-mail:

Dear RA,

I want you to be 100% satisfied with everything you purchase at CafePress.com. I am ordering you a replacement right away in the new size at no additional charge.

There is no need for a return! I don’t want you to incur any additional shipping charges. Please keep the original as our way of saying thanks for shopping at CafePress.com.

If there is anything else I can do for you please let me know.

Best Regards,

Danielle T.
CafePress.com Support Associate

What? “There is no need for a return”? I was stunned. Way to exceed my expectations, Cafepress!

Then I realized that I had this spare nerd shirt on my hands with a highly specific reference on it — what to do? It was too big and too small for the first local recipients I could think of. I considered holding a geeky giveaway, but I cringed at the thought that someone might win it that wouldn’t fully understand the shirt and give it the loving home it deserved.

Finally, I IMed Jen to see if her husband would like it. Before the arrival of her adorable baby, she and I had regular Tuesday morning chats to discuss the latest episode of How I Met Your Mother. Jen wasn’t sold on The Big Bang Theory from the start, but the show has gradually won her over. Her husband would love the shirt, she said. Why didn’t she send me something in return?

Why not, indeed?

I shipped the shirt across the country to Seattle, and over the weekend, I received a dense package of my own. A new baking book! Woo! There is not much that is more heartwarming than a blog gift exchange fueled by excellent customer service and overall geekiness, am I right?

A few days ago while cleaning up from dinner, JG and I stumbled onto the topic of the Fibonacci sequence, which happens more frequently than I’d like to admit. The conversation triggered a faint memory that wormed its way up from my brain’s archives.

When I was in eighth grade, I participated in a supplementary math program wherein a handful of students went to Wesleyan University after school to do math problems.  We sat in a classroom and talked about quadratics and Pascal’s triangle, and for the life of me, I can not recall how I came to be a part of this group.  At the time, it didn’t seem odd that I would voluntarily sit in a beige classroom to parse out the Fibonacci sequence on walls of blackboard.  I suspect that I was the slow one of the pack, and I distinctly remember dozing off every so often while others demonstrated their algebraic dexterity.  Regardless, there were ginger snaps to nibble, and I had a vague sense that this experience would “look good for college.”

The day after I remembered my Weekly Geek Club, my mom forwarded me an e-mail from the former math coordinator at the school system.  She wanted to get in touch with students who had participated in past math events, she said, and could she have my contact information?  Intrigued, I e-mailed her last night to investigate, and I eagerly clicked on her response today.

Well, I’ll be!  The woman who contacted my mom is now on the board of directors of an organization for math students, and she has invited me to give a presentation at their upcoming spring conference!  I would speak about my experiences with math as I grew up and the role that mentoring has played in my professional life.  Afterward, I could go a reception to mingle with other speakers and program alumni.  Oh, and the organization is called the Connecticut Association for Mathematically Precocious Youth.

Or, for short, CAMPY.

“Mathematically Precocious Youth”?  CAMPY?  It is too good, by which I mean awful, of course.  Did they come up with this name as a joke, or is it even funnier because it’s dead serious?  Gah!  I can’t stop saying it!  CAMPY!

Horrible acronym aside, I could not imagine myself addressing today’s generation of nerdy youth.  What could I say about my experiences?  “I learned about the Fibonacci sequence.  I ate ginger snaps.  I sometimes fell asleep.  Thanks, CAMPY!”  Double thumbs-up!

Even worse, I don’t even think I was part of this organization, at least not in today’s official form.  Any vague recollection of my math enrichment that I can dig out of the dark recesses of my memory is filled with gaps and punctuated by tan terrazzo floors, dim fluorescent lighting, and a droning lecturer.  It’s not exactly the picture of youthful enlightenment.  Heck, was I even precocious enough to get in to this club?  I doubt it.

To my relief, the event is on a Tuesday, so I had to decline the invitation.  A weekday trip to Connecticut is not possible, I wrote, but if it’s any amusement, I married a math teacher, so the subject is never far from me.

(CAMPY!)