Coming to a small screen near me

I hate people so glued to their mobile devices that they can’t go the space of one 60-minute presentation without messing with it. But I’m afraid that something has come over me at the Grace HopperCelebration of Women in Computing.

That chick tapping furiously during the keynote presentations? That’s me, live-tweeting what Fei-Fei Li or Mercedes Soria or Melinda Gates is saying. That’s also me in panel discussions live-tweeting tidbits of the conversation. That’s even me at the two breakfast meetings I went to yesterday morning, live-tweeting. (Yeah—I had two company-sponsored breakfasts, which means I’m saving my employer hotel/convention center prices for meals. This is also why I’ve signed up for every event that offers food. They can pay for my transportation.)

(As an aside, I once said to my manager that, as far as incentives go, I would kill relatives for a week’s vacation—although probably not close ones. Some time later I mentioned in passing that I’d live-tweeted an event I’d gone to, and he seemed surprised by that. I asked him why he accepted without question that I’d commit homicide, but was taken aback that I know how to tweet. He did not have a real answer to that.)

In my defense, I am not checking email, commenting on Facebook or playing Candy Crush Saga (is that what it’s called?). I’m only tweeting out the words of wisdom I’m hearing. That—along with volunteering to be a speed mentor at a session yesterday—is my way of paying some of the wealth of GHC17 forward.

At least I’ve not progressed to walking around inside and out with my nose buried in the device. So there’s that.