Courage is not something I am normally lack and my career demonstrates that I’m not exactly afraid of success, but when it comes to making myself truly vulnerable to other human beings, well that takes more heart than this Vulcan normally has on hand. My friends would probably laugh at that because they know me as a warm, loving, expressive person, but chances are they forget how long it took to break through my introvert-exoskeleton.

The day I decided to book the tickets for my first cross country trip it was absolutely exhilarating. I was ready to let go of my attachment to any particular outcome and fly by the seat of my pants on a journey of the heart. This journey started over a year before when I took a month off to reflect on my life, career, and start dreaming for the future.  I came out of that brief hiatus from work recharged and ready to attack life with vigor and went back to work as a Designer, the unicorn of the software development industry.  For the first time since arriving in Portland 4 years earlier I found myself succeeding at work and dating someone steady.  The dating was dreamy, including sunny naps in the park during an extended Indian Summer and the design job, well, it was exciting and new. This lasted for all of about 2 months before the rug was pulled out from underneath me and I realized that both my new career and fledging relationship were doomed.  Both were sold to me under false pretenses and turned out to be completely different than what I’d signed on for. In the case of relationships there is rarely anything we can do, but with careers that’s a different story.

I took a stand and had my position changed to more accurately reflect the role I was playing at work. A couple months into the new, new role I was beginning to get my head above water, but I still wasn’t happy because I worked so much that there was no energy left over to get a life. On the dawn of the New Year I sat around alone watching the ball drop and vowed that next year would be different, even if it meant taking a huge risk and leaving my job.  It was time to start taking some risks in my highly structured, six sigma life where I rarely colored outside the lines.  I also was keenly aware that getting a life was going to take a lot of energy and might mean I’d revisit things I once loved, but thought I’d outgrown.  I had a feeling that might mean taking a third trip to Burning Man, because I wanted to commune with like minded people and tap my latent creativity.  Regardless of how I went about finding my people again, I would need to invest daily in building a community of friends in Portland and beyond if there was any hope of not spending the New Year single and alone for the umpteenth consecutive year.

The risk taking started at work, challenging the status quo and fighting like a mama bear to keep my vision for the future of the product clear and resonant.It was not easy stuff to go through and frankly, I pissed a lot of people off along the way, but through all the growing pains we created something beautiful. A great product and a solid team with great culture.  I was plotting my escape the whole while, but from the start of Project Dream Big I’d known that I would follow through on my commitments to work, deliver a beautiful baby for the company that had taught me so many valuable lessons, and move on to designing a beautiful future for myself.

Since I’m a project planner at heart, I gave myself a project a few months before quitting my job and started planning a trip to Black Rock City for my third burn.  Despite my exhaustion from work it was energizing to spend my weekends crafting and planning menus.  I happened to meet the people who inspired me to articulate this bucket list there, but that’s for another story.

The first day of funemployment finally arrived after a countdown that began at day 123, and I woke up naturally to sunlight feeling more free and happy than I had for years.  It wasn’t strictly about not working, since I found myself driven to invent work and create lists upon lists of tasks for myself, it was about being self directed and finally getting to stop and smell all these roses I’ve been planting over the years. I found a veritable Secret Garden in my mind, a wealth of ideas and desires that had been waiting patiently in the garden for just the right time to bloom.

One of these very special roses happened to go by the name of a boy, who will remain anonymous for the purposes of this story.   Being in love with him makes me want to be a better person and turns the volume on life up to 11.  My quandary was that I had to tell him all of this and the vulcan singleton in me was not exactly accustomed to those conversations. Despite me floundering through it, he wanted me to come see him and it turned out to be one of the most fun, easiest, incredibly romantic weeks of my life.  I literally had to force myself to get on the plane to go home and left feeling inspired about what can happen when you really put yourself out there.  I returned home with a clear image in my mind of what I’d like for my future and finally managed to finish writing the bucket list I’d been agonizing over for 6 weeks. I highly recommend getting on that plane, even if you turn right back around, because at least if you try and fail, you can still say you tried.

When I was a little girl I was obsessed with reading about Native Americans. I remember reading Island of the Blue Dolphins in the 5th grade and deciding I could totally be that little warrior princess. For much of the next year I spent my time out by the rail road tracks or New Brighton beach, carving spears out of sticks and trying to make fires from scratch. I found a perfect tree that offered shelter, a lookout, and nooks to snuggle up in for an afternoon nap.

Fast forward a decade and my Pocahontas phase was over, or so I thought. One day when perusing the college catalogue for electives, I happened upon a cultural anthropology class focused on Native Americans. Having just watched Lara Croft, Tomb Raider, I was thoroughly convinced that the career of anthropologist was sexy and would definitely come with a polygon bra. After the first semester I was hooked, and computer science be damned, I took another class on the Natives of California. The information was mind boggling. What’s that you say, Columbus didn’t discover America?  You mean, the people that were here first didn’t want us to force our god down their throats?

I fondly remember our first Pow Wow field trip. It was the gathering of the Ohlone Peoples at the Coyote Hills regional park. A warm Autumn day, with a balmy breeze blowing in off the bay, the kind of day that makes California the golden state. The oak scrub hills had been baked in the summer sun making dry grass crunch loudly beneath your feet. The sound of drumming and chanting rose up to greet you and it felt like you’d just been welcomed into someone’s family barbeque.

As we strolled around checking out folk art, my olfactory senses started to work like an overclocked CPU and I believe a foodie was born. Like Columbus discovered America so many years ago, I had discovered Indian Fry Bread.  The smell of fresh bread has always been intoxicating to me, but this, oh this combined two of my favorite things, the smell of frying fat and bread! I ordered a piece and it was light, salty, savory and everything a piece of fried bread should be. I was hooked, and quickly ran around the Pow Wow about 10 times so I could make room for an Indian Fry Bread Taco.

Another decade rolls by, because they do that pretty fast, and I’m driving to Burning Man 2011 with friends. We round a corner into one of the small, speed trap towns and as I roll down the window, the aroma of fry bread hits my nose and immediately activates my pleasure center. I spend the next week in Black Rock City salivating at the thought of Fry Bread Tacos. The day before we leave I start planting the seed with my travel companions that we should really consider stopping for tacos on the way out, you know, support the local community. After 6 hours in Exodus, I can tell my friends are about ready to slap my taco loving face when I dare to suggest that we stop on the way to Reno. I quietly point out the stands as we pass each little town and wistfully stare out the window and breathe in the scent like a dog. Lucky girl that I am, my friends are awesome, and decided to stop at the last stand we saw to fulfill my Indian Taco dream. It was everything I’d ever hoped for after a week of eating a generous helping of dust with most meals.

Upon arriving home, I decided it was time to try my hand at making my own delicious fry bread. And oh, did I make it. Something like half a dozen batches (4 pieces each) over the course of the next week. I tried it salted, with powered sugar, taco style, with eggs on top.  Next time I’m going to make braised buffalo tacos. In the words of Nelly, “Girl, I think my butt gettin big.”  Lesson learned, only make fry bread in the company of friends.

I hope it inspires you to dream big too.

“Do epic shit. Help people. “

100 Things to Do Before I Die

1. Spend time living in Italy.
2. Kiss someone I’m in love with on top of the Empire State building.
3. Tandem skydiving.
4. Learn to scuba dive.
5. Camping by kayak.
6. Learn to make pasta.
7. Help build a house.
8. Get over my fear of public karaoke.
9. Perform in a swing dance at a dance party.
10. Attend a Stanley Cup Final.
11. Build an art installation for Burning Man.
12. Be a mentor.
13. Shout about love from a rooftop.
14. Jump off a cliff into the crystal blue pacific.
15. Visit the Australian outback.
16. Take a trip to Ireland to chase some rainbows.
17. Write a book.
18. Learn to surf.
19. Become fluent in a more languages: Spanish, Italian.
20. Learn how to sew.
21. Make pastry!
22. Drive a race car.
23. First dance with my husband.
24. Raise money for Alcoholism research.
25. Attend a yoga workshop someplace tropical. Hell, lead one.
26. Drive across the country in an RV.
27. Learn to sail.
28. Belly dance…in public.
29. Try out fire dancing.
30. Help make a random strangers day.
31. Make my own bread.
32. Volunteer for Habitat for Humanity.
33. Say “I love you” when it counts.
34. Write a song.
35. Buy a vacation home or two.
36. Explore the Caribbean.
37. Visit the places my family immigrated from (Czech Republic, Ireland).
38. Climb half dome.
39. Ride a camel.
40. Take a snow boarding lesson.
41. Become kayak certified.
42. Go ice skating in New York at Christmas time.
43. Attend a camp-in music festival at the gorge.
44. Meet Max Barry.
45. Volunteer for the Burning Man Project or Burners without Borders.
46. Hold hands walking down a beach in Hawaii.
47. Participate in Critical Tits.
48. Ride in a hot air balloon.
49. Salsa dancing in a club…with strangers and friends!
50. Make my own Indian Fry Bread tacos.
51. Take at least one plane flight in the name of love.
52. Can vegetables from my own yard.
53. Foster a dog.
54. Become great at arm balances.
55. Do a headstand on top of a mountain.
56. Visit Costa Rica.
57. Compliment 10 random strangers in one day.
58. Meet the Obamas.
59. Fast for a week.
60. Make my own jam.
61. Cherry out a classic car.
62. Run a 5k.
63. Meet the San Jose Sharks.
64. Throw a huge, kick ass party!
65. Climb Mt Hood.
66. Teach a free outreach yoga class.
67. Meet Bethenny Frankel.
68. Get a pilot’s license.
69. Be a participant of democracy by protesting or volunteering for a campaign.
70. Visit the desert of the moon in Chile.
71. Go to Machu Pichu.
72. Volunteer on an IT or tech project in a 3rd world country. Think solar?
73. Dance with Ellen Degeneres!
74. Raise 25,000 for charities that help the homeless!
75. Take an entire year off work to volunteer and travel.
76. Start a dance in public.
77. Ride a Zamboni at an NHL game.
78. Kiss my love on the Great Wall of China.
79. Try out for Roller Derby.
80. Build a greenhouse.
81. Go horse back riding on the beach.
82. Live somewhere tropical for a few months.
83. Start a moped gang.
84. Design a comfortable bra.
85. Treat several best friends to an epic vacation.
86. Go back to Viet Nam.
87. Cocreate a beautiful family with someone.
88. Start my own company.
89. Design an eco-friendly home.
90. Finish writing this list.
91. Get a masters in bioinformatics.
92. Do 33 sun salutations for 100 days straight.
93. Backpacking in Kauai.
94. Salsa dancing in South America.
95. Send out Christmas cards. You know, instead of just putting them in envelopes and never getting them in the post.
96. Make handmade Christmas gifts.
97. Volunteer for that high school robot competition.
98. Be serenaded by Chris Isaak.
99. Make my own cheese!
100. Live fearlessly and love with abandon

I suppose the exodus from LiveJournal happened around the time Myspace added blogging. For a while I was replicating posts between Myspace and LJ, but one day that just stopped and poor LJ became a ghost town. Right as I became fed up with Myspace and was thinking about going back to my first blogging love, Facebook came along all shiny and new. I scoffed at it after my brief affair with Twitter, which felt like LJ for twits. I tried to ignore FB for as long as I could stand it, but as it hit critical mass I started to think that maybe the 100 people who had zinged me with invites were onto something. Like the rest of you, I became hopelessly addicted to the allure of socializing with local and remote friends from the comfort of my very own home, but the bite size posts have always left me desiring more.

Even as my desire to blog about personal things waned, I still loved writing about security issues, but for some reason it never felt very sexy to write about PCI compliance. After I stopped working in censorware, I was recruited into a very mature security startup back in 2007 and quite honestly, writing technical documents and software requirements killed my love of writing. I am on day two of voluntary unemployment and I’m hoping this is the beginning of a beautiful relationship with WordPress.

First they get your username and password for myspace. Then they start spamming all of us with these ridiculous bulletins. We click on them because we are your friends and we trust you. They, the spammers, do that to get our email addresses. To hock their wares. Basically because there probably isn’t much, if anything, in the way of anti-spam on the myspace servers. Because maybe if they get your email address and they know that your friend didn’t notice that the URL didn’t say myspace.com verbatim when it prompted them with, “oops you must be logged in,” you might not notice if they sent you an email claiming to be from your bank or mobile phone provider or who knows what these days. Even if you are really good and the URL seems to be on the right site, someone could being pulling strings with that site and URL to dupe you.

After researching a bit, the flash worm may not be the cause of the recent wave of bulletin spam, only a symptom of bad security measures and clever social engineering schemes. Hard to say. If the propaganda site pull the “oops” trick who knows how many people doofed and figured myspace had hicupped and that was why the login prompt came up unexpectedly.

So please my friends. Be careful and observant. If you get prompted to login right after clicking on a link in the bulletin stop and think about the fact that you had to be logged in to see the bulletin in the first place. If you get an email that you aren’t expecting don’t click on the links. If you do get clicking, look at that address bar very carefully before you ever enter a username and password on any site.

The tool will become a lot more powerful when it is hooked into web based email, since a services such as Hotmail or Gmail have such a large user base and it probably is difficult to justify the use of extensive filtering by IP alone.

Looks like Secure Computing has inspired the wrath of Boing-Boing. Never a good idea to tick off the editors over there.

Here’s me doing my part to say censorship sucks: