<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36596866</id><updated>2012-01-11T15:13:31.838-05:00</updated><category term='New York'/><title type='text'>Queritor</title><subtitle type='html'>Mindless musings on life, love and information technology.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queritor.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36596866/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queritor.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Carrie Gates</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11195904526910674908</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JyznP4xxtKc/TVdwdRaB19I/AAAAAAAAABQ/6954pOOH3-M/s220/PC140049.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>18</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36596866.post-5858953625827312211</id><published>2011-10-21T23:17:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-22T00:31:19.964-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Bank of America Sucks</title><content type='html'>So I just had an interesting experience that I want to share.  It turns out that Bank of America will not let me use the money I put on my credit card.  Here's the situation:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a credit limit of, say X = $1000.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that I have some large charges coming up, which will put me near my limit.  So, not only do I pay my credit card off completely, I put extra money on it.  Let's say that makes my balance Z = -$500.  It's a negative, because a positive number means you owe the credit card company.  All this money has cleared.  My stated balance on the web site is -$500.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you think my credit available should be?  I would say $1500, the $1000 credit limit plus the extra $500 I put on the card, but hey, what do I know about math?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, let's charge some stuff to the card.  Let's say it's Y = $900.  These charges are pending, they have not cleared yet.  In fact, it's Friday night, so they are not going to clear for days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you think my credit available should be?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The calculation should be simple.  $Z + $Y gives you the amount on the credit card (-$500 + $900 = $400).  Subtract this amount from your credit limit, and you get your available credit (e.g., X - $400, or $1000 - $400 = $600 available).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bank of America, however, feels that my available credit is  X - Y = $1000 - $900 = $100.  Thus I have NO ACCESS to the $500 I put on the credit card so that I would still be able to use it without worrying about exceeding my credit limit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In fact, the web site listing your transactions does things correctly.  It shows all your pending charges, and shows what your balance is.  So your credit available SHOULD be your credit limit minus your balance.  Except according to Bank of America.  Because they don't know how to do math.  (Actually, they're very good at accounting.  Witness the fact that they received huge bailouts while posting incredible profits.  That's actually pretty brilliant.  And yes, that was sarcastic.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After waiting on hold for 45 minutes, by the way, I was told that this will "correct itself" as the pending charges clear.  Thanks.  I have the warm fuzzies from that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The result?  For me, I'm telling everyone I know NOT to use Bank of America anymore (witness this blog post).  That actually makes me sad, because I've been loyal to them for 7 years now because they were the first US company to trust me as an adult with a credit card.  (Note: my Canadian credit rating was impeccable.  The US, which uses the exact same credit agencies as Canada - Equifax, Experion and TransUnion - will not recognize anything achieved outside the US.  So when I moved here, I was essentially treated as a 16 year old.  In fact, the fact that I have only had credit for 7 years and 9 months still shows up as a negative on my credit ratings.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other result?  Let's just say I've applied for another credit card with another bank (which has already been approved and is in the mail), which will now be the credit card I use for all my purchases.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry Bank of America.  If you were willing to acknowledge that I can use my own money, maybe I'd stay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Update: 1 hour, 20 minutes later&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know if the person I spoke with on the phone found someone who could fix my problem, but my bank account now shows my balance as being positive (having cleared all but one pending charge) and my credit available as correct.  But the detailed listing still shows all the pending charges as not yet cleared.  I have screen shots of both states, so I have digital proof that I did not imagine anything!!  And I will definitely check tomorrow to see if the pending charges show as cleared in the detailed listing, since maybe I'm catching the system during a point where one part has been updated but not another?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36596866-5858953625827312211?l=queritor.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queritor.blogspot.com/feeds/5858953625827312211/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36596866&amp;postID=5858953625827312211&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36596866/posts/default/5858953625827312211'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36596866/posts/default/5858953625827312211'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queritor.blogspot.com/2011/10/bank-of-america-sucks.html' title='Bank of America Sucks'/><author><name>Carrie Gates</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11195904526910674908</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JyznP4xxtKc/TVdwdRaB19I/AAAAAAAAABQ/6954pOOH3-M/s220/PC140049.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36596866.post-4506386489277853819</id><published>2011-09-23T09:43:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-23T09:45:13.060-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Insider Threat Video</title><content type='html'>There's a &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1E4GUY2Kt2k"&gt; video on YouTube &lt;/a&gt; about one of my research projects!  It's only 2 minutes long, done in a cartoon style, and I even have an avatar and a speaking part in it.  How cool is that?! :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36596866-4506386489277853819?l=queritor.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queritor.blogspot.com/feeds/4506386489277853819/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36596866&amp;postID=4506386489277853819&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36596866/posts/default/4506386489277853819'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36596866/posts/default/4506386489277853819'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queritor.blogspot.com/2011/09/insider-threat-video.html' title='Insider Threat Video'/><author><name>Carrie Gates</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11195904526910674908</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JyznP4xxtKc/TVdwdRaB19I/AAAAAAAAABQ/6954pOOH3-M/s220/PC140049.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36596866.post-7404203899126673850</id><published>2011-04-17T13:11:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-17T13:17:12.077-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The remains of a heart</title><content type='html'>What is this blackened thing, that once was a heart?&lt;br /&gt;What pain could have possibly twisted it thus?&lt;br /&gt;I have seen wounded hearts, but this...&lt;br /&gt;... this heart is just mere shreds of black,&lt;br /&gt;like the charcoal remains of burnt paper.&lt;br /&gt;So ugly now that no one can get close.&lt;br /&gt;So sharp.&lt;br /&gt;So very black.&lt;br /&gt;And hollow.&lt;br /&gt;What could possibly have twisted it thus?&lt;br /&gt;Oh.&lt;br /&gt;It was love.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36596866-7404203899126673850?l=queritor.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queritor.blogspot.com/feeds/7404203899126673850/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36596866&amp;postID=7404203899126673850&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36596866/posts/default/7404203899126673850'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36596866/posts/default/7404203899126673850'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queritor.blogspot.com/2011/04/remains-of-heart.html' title='The remains of a heart'/><author><name>Carrie Gates</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11195904526910674908</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JyznP4xxtKc/TVdwdRaB19I/AAAAAAAAABQ/6954pOOH3-M/s220/PC140049.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36596866.post-1336295055535935808</id><published>2011-04-11T17:22:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-11T17:26:09.796-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Rainbows</title><content type='html'>I want to share my rainbows.&lt;br /&gt;I want to dance.&lt;br /&gt;I want to sing, but only softly, so only you can hear.&lt;br /&gt;I want to splash through the waves.&lt;br /&gt;I want to watch the sunset, and the stars, and the moon, and the sunrise again&lt;br /&gt;I want to sleep on the beach&lt;br /&gt;I want to jump and run and play&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to share my rainbows...&lt;br /&gt;... with you&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36596866-1336295055535935808?l=queritor.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queritor.blogspot.com/feeds/1336295055535935808/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36596866&amp;postID=1336295055535935808&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36596866/posts/default/1336295055535935808'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36596866/posts/default/1336295055535935808'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queritor.blogspot.com/2011/04/rainbows.html' title='Rainbows'/><author><name>Carrie Gates</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11195904526910674908</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JyznP4xxtKc/TVdwdRaB19I/AAAAAAAAABQ/6954pOOH3-M/s220/PC140049.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36596866.post-8574402730806742121</id><published>2011-02-13T00:39:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-13T00:40:35.864-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Hollow</title><content type='html'>I will stay&lt;br /&gt;Until my insides have been torn out&lt;br /&gt;Until my heart lies shredded&lt;br /&gt;My entrails like tea leaves on the ground&lt;br /&gt;Telling the future the Gods have in store&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36596866-8574402730806742121?l=queritor.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queritor.blogspot.com/feeds/8574402730806742121/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36596866&amp;postID=8574402730806742121&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36596866/posts/default/8574402730806742121'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36596866/posts/default/8574402730806742121'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queritor.blogspot.com/2011/02/hollow.html' title='Hollow'/><author><name>Carrie Gates</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11195904526910674908</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JyznP4xxtKc/TVdwdRaB19I/AAAAAAAAABQ/6954pOOH3-M/s220/PC140049.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36596866.post-469317792734223236</id><published>2010-05-09T21:16:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-09T21:23:59.222-04:00</updated><title type='text'>An Apology to a Dead Man</title><content type='html'>I'm sorry Walter.&lt;br /&gt;I tried.&lt;br /&gt;But I didn't know the things I was doing wrong, as I did them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I loved him.&lt;br /&gt;And I thought that was enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't know the damage I was doing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope that she is better for him than I was.&lt;br /&gt;I didn't mean to destroy the person that he was.&lt;br /&gt;I didn't know that I didn't know how to love.&lt;br /&gt;And I'm sorry that he died through my learning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was oblivious to the changes.&lt;br /&gt;And I didn't know how to ask about the pain.&lt;br /&gt;I tried to do things to pull him out,&lt;br /&gt;to make him happy,&lt;br /&gt;to give him hope.&lt;br /&gt;I didn't know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And all I can say now is&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry.&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry.&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry.&lt;br /&gt;Please forgive me.&lt;br /&gt;I tried.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He really was beautiful once.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36596866-469317792734223236?l=queritor.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queritor.blogspot.com/feeds/469317792734223236/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36596866&amp;postID=469317792734223236&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36596866/posts/default/469317792734223236'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36596866/posts/default/469317792734223236'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queritor.blogspot.com/2010/05/apology-to-dead-man.html' title='An Apology to a Dead Man'/><author><name>Carrie Gates</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11195904526910674908</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JyznP4xxtKc/TVdwdRaB19I/AAAAAAAAABQ/6954pOOH3-M/s220/PC140049.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36596866.post-641286533528401216</id><published>2010-05-07T03:18:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-07T03:40:23.510-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A poem</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;I thought of you today.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The pain was sharp and deep&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; and I couldn't stop my tears.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I thought of you today.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I drank some wine&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; and tried to numb my soul.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I thought of you today.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There was a father&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; holding the hand of a small child.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I thought of you today.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There was a man biking in the country&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; with a smile on his face.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I thought of you today.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The pain was dull&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; and my heart was full of longing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I thought of you today.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There were children on the beach&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; and the ocean washed my toes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I thought of you today.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The sunlight streamed through my window&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; and warmed the bed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I thought of you today.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I heard a song on the radio&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; that you used to sing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I thought of you today.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There was a rainbow in the sky&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; and the colours danced.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I thought of you today.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And wept.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36596866-641286533528401216?l=queritor.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queritor.blogspot.com/feeds/641286533528401216/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36596866&amp;postID=641286533528401216&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36596866/posts/default/641286533528401216'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36596866/posts/default/641286533528401216'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queritor.blogspot.com/2010/05/poem.html' title='A poem'/><author><name>Carrie Gates</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11195904526910674908</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JyznP4xxtKc/TVdwdRaB19I/AAAAAAAAABQ/6954pOOH3-M/s220/PC140049.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36596866.post-3449417049164142237</id><published>2009-07-26T16:17:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-26T16:53:33.123-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Value of a PhD - 3 Years Later</title><content type='html'>May 24, 2009, was the third year anniversary of my receiving my PhD.  I was going to blog on that day but, honestly, was too busy with other things, and so I've been hitting "snooze" on my reminder pop-up for the past two months!  Most people assume that a PhD is a Good Thing, and no one ever talks about the (non-financial) costs of doing a PhD.  Having done that in my post when I had been out of school for one year, my approach this time around will be different.  First, I'll tell you how I spent my third year anniversary.  Second, I'll tell you where I am right now.  Third, I'll make a few observations about my friends.  I'll let you draw your own conclusions as to the worth of a PhD.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How I spent my day: May 24 was a Sunday, on the American Memorial Day weekend.  I spent the weekend with some friends (more accurately, friends of friends, who are becoming my friends as well), who have a beautiful house right on Lake Washington.  We went out for breakfast, went into the mountains to see a waterfall, then spent the afternoon boating on the lake.  IIRC, I think we took the boat into Seattle that night for supper, but it could have been Mexican in Richland - the days of the weekend kind of blur together.  It was sunny and warm and fabulous, with lots of joking and laughter.  These are friends whom I would never have met were it not for path I ended up on due to the PhD.  (Note that none of these friends have PhDs - one is in IT, one was in banking, one was a model and TV actor, one is a TV producer, one is an architect.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where I am right now: I am sitting in the living room of my apartment in Heidelberg, Germany, where I am staying for the summer.  I'm in Germany because I wanted to go away for the summer, and this seemed like a good place to go.  I'm not actually sure why I'm renting a place, since by the end of three months I will have spent maybe four weeks here due to a busy travel schedule.  I absolutely love traveling, and I would not have the amazing job I have right now - that gives me the flexibility to travel like this - were it not for the PhD.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Observations on friends: My closest friends fall into two categories: (1) those who have a PhD (or were getting one at the same time) and (2) those who met me *after* I got my PhD.  People whom I thought were my friends while I was doing my PhD, it turns out, were not as understanding as I had given them credit for being.  Many of the people whom I thanked in my acknowledgments were not talking to me two months later.  The PhD took a toll on all my personal relationships - which I didn't notice at all while doing the PhD because I was focused on the dissertation.  It's almost like going diving and, when you surface again, learning that there was a war and everything around you is now burning.  The only friends who really understood this, and whom are still friends, are ones who already had their PhD.  Apart from that, most of my current friends have never seen my natural hair colour, have never seen me at 155 lbs (yikes!), and have never seen the lows in self-confidence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, in the end, the PhD gave me a great job and lots of travel.  But the social life had to essentially start from scratch.  Ask yourself now, before you start a PhD, which you value more - a career, or your personal relationships.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36596866-3449417049164142237?l=queritor.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queritor.blogspot.com/feeds/3449417049164142237/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36596866&amp;postID=3449417049164142237&amp;isPopup=true' title='22 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36596866/posts/default/3449417049164142237'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36596866/posts/default/3449417049164142237'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queritor.blogspot.com/2009/07/value-of-phd-3-years-later.html' title='The Value of a PhD - 3 Years Later'/><author><name>Carrie Gates</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11195904526910674908</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JyznP4xxtKc/TVdwdRaB19I/AAAAAAAAABQ/6954pOOH3-M/s220/PC140049.JPG'/></author><thr:total>22</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36596866.post-5372544029932484837</id><published>2008-05-30T20:18:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-30T21:23:04.849-04:00</updated><title type='text'>some things about me</title><content type='html'>This is a somewhat random post, inspired by &lt;a href="http://www.poltz.com/blognews/some%20things%20about%20me.mp3"&gt; this song &lt;/a&gt; by Steve Poltz.  Except mine isn't as musical and doesn't rhyme, nor does it even have matching numbers of syllables per line. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am very competitive&lt;br /&gt;I expect too much from others&lt;br /&gt;I love traveling&lt;br /&gt;I never want to slow down, even if I feel lazy sometimes&lt;br /&gt;I know a lot of truly amazing people&lt;br /&gt;I envy one friend, who is surrounded by so much love....&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure I deserve the respect that I have, but am thankful for it&lt;br /&gt;I wish I read more&lt;br /&gt;I love people&lt;br /&gt;I try to never get mad at the barista&lt;br /&gt;I hate process&lt;br /&gt;I don't believe in rules&lt;br /&gt;I have made many mistakes.... but I have no regrets&lt;br /&gt;I sleep better when I'm not alone&lt;br /&gt;I want to die with lots of stories&lt;br /&gt;I want to know how to sing and dance and blow glass and make pottery and paint&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to fade away&lt;br /&gt;I want to have the chance to say good-bye&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36596866-5372544029932484837?l=queritor.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queritor.blogspot.com/feeds/5372544029932484837/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36596866&amp;postID=5372544029932484837&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36596866/posts/default/5372544029932484837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36596866/posts/default/5372544029932484837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queritor.blogspot.com/2008/05/some-things-about-me.html' title='some things about me'/><author><name>Carrie Gates</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11195904526910674908</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JyznP4xxtKc/TVdwdRaB19I/AAAAAAAAABQ/6954pOOH3-M/s220/PC140049.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36596866.post-8113028063862752452</id><published>2007-08-20T15:09:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-20T15:13:41.065-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Heard on the Street...</title><content type='html'>I was walking down 31st between 6th and 7th last night at about 9pm, and I walked by two people settling down for the night outside the Franciscan Monastery.  One guy was already laying down on some cardboard box, talking to a woman who was spreading out issues of the Metro to lie on.  As I walked by I heard the guy say to the woman that "You gotta have a sense of humour in this life" and the woman respond "Don't I know it."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36596866-8113028063862752452?l=queritor.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queritor.blogspot.com/feeds/8113028063862752452/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36596866&amp;postID=8113028063862752452&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36596866/posts/default/8113028063862752452'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36596866/posts/default/8113028063862752452'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queritor.blogspot.com/2007/08/heard-on-street.html' title='Heard on the Street...'/><author><name>Carrie Gates</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11195904526910674908</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JyznP4xxtKc/TVdwdRaB19I/AAAAAAAAABQ/6954pOOH3-M/s220/PC140049.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36596866.post-9010806384207863979</id><published>2007-08-16T12:31:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-16T16:14:08.359-04:00</updated><title type='text'>How to Recognize a New Yorker</title><content type='html'>So, now that I've lived in Manhattan for a whole four months, I think that I've figured out how to recognize someone who lives here from, say, a tourist.  Manhattanites have the following characteristics:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;They have perfect pedicures.  If they are wearing sandals, their toes have been primped to look their utter cute-ist.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;They have perfect manicures.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Their clothes fit perfectly.  They might be wearing jeans and a T-shirt, but something about the fit looks extremely well put-together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;They wear what is in style... to an extent.  If it is comfortable, then it is part of the wardrobe.  Otherwise, they don't bother.  One result of this is that shoes tend to be both dressy and comfortable.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Their hair is perfect.  It's not overly moused or gelled, but loose and flowing and a very flattering cut.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;They are slim slim slim.  New York defined the "you can't pinch an inch on me" commercials.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;In short, New Yorkers look fabulous, both guys and gals.  Tourists just look like... tourists. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On top of that, tourists &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;act&lt;/span&gt; like tourists.  The two most annoying traits of a tourist: walking and not walking.  A New Yorker walks with purpose, looking straight ahead, while a tourist walks slowly and keeps staring up, thus preventing the New Yorker from getting where he is going!  Secondly, tourists will just suddenly stop.  In particular, if they are about to cross a street and the little hand says don't cross, they will stop.  It doesn't matter that the hand just started flashing, or that there is no traffic, they will stop until the little walking guy lights up.  New Yorkers cross the street.  If they can cross without being hit by a taxi, they will cross.  It's part of getting to your destination.  I'm surprised that there isn't more pedestrian rage in New York from tourists not crossing the street!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(For those who know me, I am now back to the same weight I was when I was 18, I curl 15-lb dumb bells, I wear a light amount of make-up, my fingernails are painted, my toenails are painted, my hair now has a cute little cut and has been dyed a little lighter for the summer months, I have two very nice perfumes (Jo Malone - highly recommended!), and I've started wearing dresses.  In short, I'm becoming New York. :)  Oh, and I cross the street whenever there is no traffic, regardless of the traffic light.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36596866-9010806384207863979?l=queritor.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queritor.blogspot.com/feeds/9010806384207863979/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36596866&amp;postID=9010806384207863979&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36596866/posts/default/9010806384207863979'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36596866/posts/default/9010806384207863979'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queritor.blogspot.com/2007/08/how-to-recognize-new-yorker.html' title='How to Recognize a New Yorker'/><author><name>Carrie Gates</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11195904526910674908</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JyznP4xxtKc/TVdwdRaB19I/AAAAAAAAABQ/6954pOOH3-M/s220/PC140049.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36596866.post-1899196522750194935</id><published>2007-07-07T20:46:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-07T20:55:40.146-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Destiny</title><content type='html'>I have finally found an analogy for how I feel about destiny, or fate, and free will.  I believe in both, which seems to be a conflict.  But here's how I think about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Each person has a path in life.  It's a nice wide dirt path through the woods.  It doesn't matter what particular steps you take on the path (free will) but the overall direction is still the same (destiny).  The paths of other people overlap with your path to varying degrees.  Some chance meeting of someone whom you never see again is a tiny overlap.  If the two of you do not happen to take the right steps to end up in the overlapped bit, it doesn't matter.  Other people, however, such as spouses, have a complete overlap (at least for some period of time).  Again, the individual steps each person takes within do not matter (and so one person could do something different from the other, or meet different people, or have different hobbies, whatever) but the overall direction is the same for both people.  It is possible to change your path (free will again), but this affects your destiny &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;and those of other people&lt;/span&gt;, and so is difficult to do.  I liken it to getting off your path and hiking through the woods, beating back the bushes, until another path is found.  This involves destroying your old path, and results in shifts in the paths of people important in your life (present and future), which is why it is difficult to do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36596866-1899196522750194935?l=queritor.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queritor.blogspot.com/feeds/1899196522750194935/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36596866&amp;postID=1899196522750194935&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36596866/posts/default/1899196522750194935'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36596866/posts/default/1899196522750194935'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queritor.blogspot.com/2007/07/destiny.html' title='Destiny'/><author><name>Carrie Gates</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11195904526910674908</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JyznP4xxtKc/TVdwdRaB19I/AAAAAAAAABQ/6954pOOH3-M/s220/PC140049.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36596866.post-7707955314023015187</id><published>2007-07-03T13:06:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-03T13:11:30.228-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Value of a PhD: One Year Later</title><content type='html'>I have now had my PhD for one year (actually, 13 months), and I've been reflecting on whether I would recommend that someone pursue one.  I wanted to wait a year before considering this so that any slings and arrows from the process were no longer so fresh in my memory.  Even with that, I'm not sure that I would recommend to anyone that they pursue a PhD.  Obtaining a PhD has nothing to do with your intelligence.  Rather, it is a purely psychological process, and not a pleasant one.  One friend of mine described it as "You need to pay the devil", saying it could be your pride, or your dignity, (or your friends, family, hobbies, ...) but something needs to be sacrificed.  From my perspective, being a graduate student is an extremely degrading position.  And once you obtain your PhD, you start from scratch - any previous experience, be it in research or management, is nullified.  And while there is generally a different pool of jobs that you are now qualified to perform, that pool is smaller than the one you left and the financial rewards are not necessarily any greater than you would have achieved without the PhD.  In general, I would not recommend that anyone pursue a PhD.  However, if you still think you might want a PhD, I would recommend that you search your heart to ensure that you have the desire and drive to get the degree, because otherwise you will not finish.  And you will likely carry the psychological scars from the process forever.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36596866-7707955314023015187?l=queritor.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queritor.blogspot.com/feeds/7707955314023015187/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36596866&amp;postID=7707955314023015187&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36596866/posts/default/7707955314023015187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36596866/posts/default/7707955314023015187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queritor.blogspot.com/2007/07/value-of-phd-one-year-later.html' title='The Value of a PhD: One Year Later'/><author><name>Carrie Gates</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11195904526910674908</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JyznP4xxtKc/TVdwdRaB19I/AAAAAAAAABQ/6954pOOH3-M/s220/PC140049.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36596866.post-4363161495972781492</id><published>2007-05-06T13:03:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-06T13:26:34.184-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Women's Workshops</title><content type='html'>So I (and 3000 other women) just attended the Simmon's School of Management Women's Leadership Workshop.  Maybe I'm strange, but I just don't get excited about being in a room surrounded by women.  It does not inspire me in the slightest.  Rather, I find that I'm usually just simply annoyed.  Especially since the first conversation of the day (while drinking coffee before the workshop started) consisted of three other women saying "I need to lose weight."  Rather than proper diet and exercise, the focus was on the South Beach Diet.  Exercise never came up once.  And these are our fearless leaders.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One speaker had a series of books on "Happy Companies", "Happy People" and "Happy Women".  Why no "Happy Men"?  Because "men don't buy self-help books."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was one really good workshop in the afternoon by &lt;a href="http://www9.georgetown.edu/faculty/tannend/"&gt;Deborah Tannen&lt;/a&gt;, who discussed differences in conversational style between men and women.  This was really useful to me, since I learned that one reason I get annoyed at workshops like this (all women) is that I communicate like a man.  Women tend to "share secrets", and build relationships based on sharing secrets.  I don't do that - my private life is, well, &lt;em&gt;private&lt;/em&gt;.  Men like to have constructive arguments (e.g., they will more often play devil's advocate), which often makes women insecure and backtrack on their ideas.  Maybe it's because of my educational background, but I play devil's advocate and will defend my ideas (though I enjoy this more when I'm defending my ideas, rather than when I mention someone else's idea and then need to defend that!).  I haven't really had female friends since high school, where I found women to be catty and bitchy.  Having done computer science since, maybe I've simply learned how to communicate like a man, and now feel more comfortable in that environment.  I suspect that there are still female mannerisms that I haven't shed (like looking at people while they are talking to show that I am paying attention).  But it was at least enlightening for me.  It doesn't mean I like women any better, but I can at least articulate now one reason why I don't!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36596866-4363161495972781492?l=queritor.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queritor.blogspot.com/feeds/4363161495972781492/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36596866&amp;postID=4363161495972781492&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36596866/posts/default/4363161495972781492'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36596866/posts/default/4363161495972781492'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queritor.blogspot.com/2007/05/womens-workshops.html' title='Women&apos;s Workshops'/><author><name>Carrie Gates</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11195904526910674908</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JyznP4xxtKc/TVdwdRaB19I/AAAAAAAAABQ/6954pOOH3-M/s220/PC140049.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36596866.post-5081626066479775750</id><published>2007-02-22T13:19:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-22T13:37:09.130-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What's New in Computer Research?</title><content type='html'>I think that I am slowly coming to the realization that there are only really three issues in computer science research: scalability, integration and usability.  It feels like everything else has been done, whether as researchers we choose to acknowledge that or not.  Seriously, though, all of the real issues seem to fall into one of those three categories, and if we could solve those, then we could focus on application areas rather than &lt;em&gt;computer science &lt;/em&gt; research.  For example, we know how to test software.  The problem arises when we try to scale this testing to an enterprise application (e.g., IBM's WebSphere or CA's Unicenter).  We have systems that automate large portions of business activities.  The problem comes when we try to integrate these systems so that they work together (e.g., the procurement system with the accounting system with the personnel system).  And we know how to detect potential security issues, such as viruses or phishing sites.  The problem comes when we try to provide that information in an understandable, noticable, actionable way to the user.  These are, obviously, just examples.  But if you start to think about the underlying computer science problems, I think that you will find that they can ultimately be classified as being a problem of scalability, integration or usability.  And if the problem does not fall in one of these three areas, I suspect that it is not actually a &lt;em&gt;computer science&lt;/em&gt; problem, but rather falls into some other research (application) area.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36596866-5081626066479775750?l=queritor.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queritor.blogspot.com/feeds/5081626066479775750/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36596866&amp;postID=5081626066479775750&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36596866/posts/default/5081626066479775750'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36596866/posts/default/5081626066479775750'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queritor.blogspot.com/2007/02/whats-new-in-computer-research.html' title='What&apos;s New in Computer Research?'/><author><name>Carrie Gates</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11195904526910674908</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JyznP4xxtKc/TVdwdRaB19I/AAAAAAAAABQ/6954pOOH3-M/s220/PC140049.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36596866.post-6003546951352872402</id><published>2007-01-18T00:27:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-18T00:48:08.221-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Co-dependence</title><content type='html'>I have heard a lot lately about the need for independence, or rather, the evils of co-dependence.  It's like a catch-all phrase that implies that a true relationship is one where no one is hurt if one partner decides to end it.   It seems that the current pop psychology viewpoint is that a relationship is not a good relationship unless both people are entirely independent.  This strikes me as saying that a good relationship is one where two people just happen to live in the same house together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe that co-dependence is not the evil beast that some would portray it as.   It used to be the case the families were very co-dependent - they were dependent on each other (parents, children, spouses) and they were dependent on the community.  But there were particular roles here that meant that women, especially, were unable to leave a bad relationship.  Here's where independence is necessary.  Women (and men) should have the means to leave a bad relationship.  Thus, I understand the push for independence.  I also understand why, in some circumstances, co-dependence is bad - because it means that one person is unable to leave the relationship, even when it is in their best interest to do so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I don't understand is the idea that, therefore, any form of co-dependence is bad.  I believe that a truly loving relationship is co-dependent &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;by its very nature&lt;/span&gt;.  Two loving people rely on each other - for support, for someone to talk to, for someone to turn to for help, for love, for simple companionship.  This is not a bad thing.  In fact, I think that it is a necessary thing.  If you cannot depend on someone you love for these things, then is it truly love?  And this does not apply just to a relationship between partners, but also with parents and true friends.  Why is it not co-dependence to rely on your parents for these things, but it is if you expect the same from your partner?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, co-dependence is not evil.  But labeling someone in a loving relationship as co-dependent, like it is a fatal flaw, is.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36596866-6003546951352872402?l=queritor.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queritor.blogspot.com/feeds/6003546951352872402/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36596866&amp;postID=6003546951352872402&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36596866/posts/default/6003546951352872402'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36596866/posts/default/6003546951352872402'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queritor.blogspot.com/2007/01/co-dependence.html' title='Co-dependence'/><author><name>Carrie Gates</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11195904526910674908</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JyznP4xxtKc/TVdwdRaB19I/AAAAAAAAABQ/6954pOOH3-M/s220/PC140049.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36596866.post-7207978921260702403</id><published>2006-12-28T21:42:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-28T22:50:49.734-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='New York'/><title type='text'>I Love New York</title><content type='html'>I moved to New York about eight months ago. Actually, I moved to Long Island, about an hour from Penn Station. I must say that I really do NOT like living on Long Island! But, in another three months, I will be moving to Manhattan. Having spent some of the past month or so exploring Manhattan, I have to say that the city is &lt;strong&gt;amazing&lt;/strong&gt;!! I am in love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, there is the usual about New York. There is always something new to see or do. The city never sleeps. There is a lot of character to it. But the real reason I am in love is the people of New York. I have lived in Halifax, Edinburgh, Toronto, Ottawa and Pittsburgh, and I have to say that I find New York to be &lt;em&gt;friendly&lt;/em&gt;. I know that sounds odd, but I honestly think that New York is the friendliest place I have ever lived. People here &lt;em&gt;smile&lt;/em&gt;. They are not afraid to either ask you for help, or ask if you need help. They will start chatting to you on the train. (I now know that Kew Gardens is a good area to live, that Craig's List is *the way* to find a no-fee apartment, and sundry details about hospital safety regulations.) There is a lot of charity (such as toy drives for Christmas both at work and at my apartment complex, as well as on-the-street donation boxes like the Salvation Army) . Even the street entertainment (musicians, break dancers, painters, you name it) seem to make a good living. Maybe it's because there are so many people here that they have learned that they need to live with each other. I don't know. But whatever it is, I like it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, it's expensive - extremely expensive - to live in New York. But you know what? New York is actually worth it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36596866-7207978921260702403?l=queritor.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queritor.blogspot.com/feeds/7207978921260702403/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36596866&amp;postID=7207978921260702403&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36596866/posts/default/7207978921260702403'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36596866/posts/default/7207978921260702403'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queritor.blogspot.com/2006/12/i-love-new-york.html' title='I Love New York'/><author><name>Carrie Gates</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11195904526910674908</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JyznP4xxtKc/TVdwdRaB19I/AAAAAAAAABQ/6954pOOH3-M/s220/PC140049.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36596866.post-116179005359918219</id><published>2006-10-25T11:16:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-25T11:27:33.606-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Web 2.0</title><content type='html'>It seems only fitting that my first blog post be a diatribe against Web 2.0.  I have two main complaints about Web 2.0. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, the definition.  Web 2.0, as near as I can tell, is a term to describe new tools to do the same old thing, but the hype makes it sound like some new exciting phenomenon.  That is, the new tools are things such as wikis, blogs, and social networking tools such as LinkedIn.  The idea is that we can now connect with each other in new ways.  I agree that the tools are new, but the idea of connecting is not.  Ever look at Usenet back in the day?  That was one way that people connected with each other.  Or mailing lists.  Yes, the tools are different, and allow for more flexibility, but the underlying concept - communication - remains the same.  So why the hype?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Second, the Web 2.0 revolution.  I have been to presentations that talk about how this new technology is revolutionizing how we do business.  I have heard a marketing person for a large technology firm state that the firm should check out who is blogging, since it would be useful for them to know who are the "early adopters", the implication being that these are the people who should be sought and promoted by the firm.  Yet the majority of blogs are content free.  Just because someone blogs about the mishaps in their day does not make them promotable.  I have seen very few business uses for Web 2.0 technology.  And I'm sorry, saying that the CEO has a public blog is NOT a good business use.  I think that there could be good business uses, such as a better way to capture institutional knowledge and memory, but I don't know of anyone who is developing such tools.  Perhaps we are just still too caught up in the idea that we can talk using computers?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36596866-116179005359918219?l=queritor.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://queritor.blogspot.com/feeds/116179005359918219/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36596866&amp;postID=116179005359918219&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36596866/posts/default/116179005359918219'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36596866/posts/default/116179005359918219'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://queritor.blogspot.com/2006/10/web-20.html' title='Web 2.0'/><author><name>Carrie Gates</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11195904526910674908</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JyznP4xxtKc/TVdwdRaB19I/AAAAAAAAABQ/6954pOOH3-M/s220/PC140049.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
