Happiness is...

I’m heading home from RSAC, and I have to say I am more than ready. I’m also very, very glad indeed that I should be able to start the hyaluronate injections next week.

I’ve learned lots, lots of which I need to organize and report on. But I’ll leave you with these pix of happiness sponsored by a company called ThreatQuotient. Each year they bring in puppies—adoptable puppies—from local shelters.

Also, apparently, an adoptable pig this year.

That's an FBI dog checking out the pig:

Steps: a skosh over 7,000.

Peace out.

Champagne and socks

RSAC, Day Three. Steps: >9300.

Started out the day synching with my Amsterdam colleague (who’s in Pune this week), and then went to a Courageous Women in Cyber brunch held at a Brazilian restaurant across the street from Moscone that’s been taken over for the week by one of the companies.

They were pouring Veuve Clicquot, so I had a glass. The speaker was very good, too.

(Side note: why does Microsoft spellcheck recognize veuve, but not Clicquot?)

At the conference, I sat through enough demos (operative term being “sat”—seriously, I’d have stuck out a revival meeting if I got to sit) to take back to the hotel eight more tee-shirts, a travel umbrella, a wireless mouse, a wireless charging pad, a $5 Starbucks card and a pair of socks. I also attended a talk on using AI and machine learning for digital forensics.

Additionally, I went to a lunch at the Children’s Creativity Museum. I could not eat, due to the brunch, but I ended up having quite a good chat with a couple of product managers from other companies.

By evening, however, I bagged all the parties except the one hosted by the competitor that was such a snot to me on Tuesday. I reckoned they owed me a drink. And maybe some loose talk.nThen I went to dinner with some colleagues, including the SVP. When I got that invitation mid-afternoon, I thought it might be a career-limiting move to decline.

I need your thoughts and prayers, folks. There’s still another full day of this to go.

Competing interests

Day Two of RSAC; steps: more than 12,000. Here’s Moscone South just before the Expo opened:

I mooched around the halls for much of the day, channeling my inner blonde asking competitors questions about their products. Mostly I got away with it. Dave, a sales engineer with one company was mansplaining things no end. Then his colleague Kyle, having apparently looked at my badge, started asking questions about my job. Kyle clearly did not hold with sharing info.

Guy from another company flat out told me, “You’re a competitor. We’re not going to tell you anything.”

Well, joke’s on him, because I’m going to their sponsored party tonight. They haven’t disinvited me from that.

Also, we’ll crush them like a bug.

Speaking of parties, I limited it to three last night. I only went to the third one because it was the personal-via-LinkedIn invitation to the event at the fancy steakhouse. Also, it’s within staggering distance of my hotel and the other two parties. I bagged number four.

And I had to mess with JIRA tickets when I got back in the evening.

Security socials

Day One of RSAC. Kind of proto-day, actually. Yesterday they were finishing up the seminars and such. The keynotes, talks and expo open today.

Actually, yesterday evening there was a boozy-foody preview of the expo, and I did a reco to pinpoint my target competitors. That counts as one of the five parties I hit. I had to bag three others, because enough is enough. By the time I got to number five, even though it was held at a bar with premium liquor on offer, I was guzzling sparkling water, because two parties earlier the other premium booze place made a margarita with 2/3 tequila and Cointreau and a splash of lime, so that was me pretty well gone. Even though I didn’t finish it.

These were just the events I could walk to.

I can’t tell you how sorry I am I missed the CyberTacos party. It was at a tequila bar, which I’d purely love to experience. I’d have splashed out for an Uber ride, and there was another thing going on within walking distance of that. But a girl’s gotta know her limitations.

Steps: more than 11,500. And it’s not a full conference day. I am properly glad I brought that muscle roller stick. I put it to use on the soles of my feet.

Gratitude Monday: expanding knowledge

I’m headed out to the RSA Conference this week. It’s the mother of all cyber security conferences, and this is my first time there with anything but an expo-only pass.

I’m massively grateful that I snagged a room at the Marriot Marquis, next to Moscone Center. That saves me half-a-mile walks each way to and from the conference. As part of the full-on experience, I’ve registered for every party that let me. (Interestingly, about a week after I was confirmed at one of them, I got an email telling me I’d been disinvited, because “we reserve space for our customers, and don’t allow competitors in”. Well, tbh, I didn’t even know who they are; I saw the term “soirée” and hit Register. Their loss.

Also, every company in attendance is a competitor on some level, so that’s going to restrict the critical mass some.

There are a couple I have to attend, because they’re hosted by competitors we’re particularly interested in. (I’m going to let my inner blonde out and encourage all kinds of conversation after folks have had a few post-expo libations.) But I’ll have to cull many of the others, because I’m registered at a minimum of three and a maximum of six for each of the four nights I’m there.

Oh, the other must-go (fortunately not on one of the target-competitor nights) is the “Luxury Whiskey Tasting” one. I can’t remember who’s throwing it. I just know I’ll be there and hope their idea of luxury whiskey isn’t bourbon.

There’s one more, at ALX Steakhouse, one of the nights (Tuesday?). Someone reached out to me via LinkedIn to invite me to that one. I said sure, but we’ll see. I know neither him, nor his company nor the steakhouse. If it conflicts with one of the target competitors, well, I’ll have to send my regrets.

It’s interesting that some companies—notably IBM—have pulled out of RSA this year. Because coronavirus. Maybe that’s why I was able to get the room at the conference HQ hotel. Yesterday the conference app sent out a message advising everyone attending to wash our hands thoroughly (for at least 20 seconds) about 16 times per hour.

My suitcase is packed, with lots of room for collateral materials from competitors and swag from everyone. Mostly what’s there is a muscle roller, anti-pain gel, extra pair of walking shoes, cushioned socks, extra-strength Tylenol, prescription-strength NSAID and a few tabs of oxy, for the worst-case scenario. I’m grateful for the opportunity to experience this conference, and I don’t want it ruined by pain.

Shadows on the wall

Well, it’s been one of those weeks, on the job and off. So I’m just going to leave you with these pix of a shadow cast on my kitchen wall:

Different foliage than what showed up last summer under similar circs. But every once in a while I like to pay attention to things like this.

Unleashed

Thanks, Republican assholes. You’ve released the Kraken.

I hope you choke. Every last one of you.

And Susan Collins—you can do it twice.

Essential

My employer provides a variety of liquid refreshments to staff (in stark contrast to my previous employer, which didn’t even give us coffee or tea). In addition to a Peets multi-coffee beverage machine and two Nespresso espresso jobbers, there are two industrial fridges containing varieties of Red Bull, bottled iced tea, milk (whole and two-percent), both Pepsi and Coke products (including, God save the mark, Fresca) and flavored waters.

The latter includes still and fizzy. What flavors get stocked seems to depend on the whim of the vendor. Recently the sparkling stuff has toggled between Poland Spring bottles and cans of La Croix. Poland Spring has a somewhat narrow spectrum—orange, raspberry-lime, lemon, lime and just plain old. But La Croix is quite exotic—passionfruit, lemon, coconut, peach-pear, tangerine, mango and pamplemousse.

(Why they choose to translate grapefruit into French and not any of the others, I do not know. I don’t make this stuff up, I just report it.)

Well, I’ve tried them all, because why not? Frankly, Poland Spring does a better job of making the flavors taste natural. I love passionfruit, but can’t quite get into the La Croix version. Even their lemon tastes faux, tbh. And I dumped out nearly a whole can of the coconut stuff after a couple of mouthfuls. And I am cuckoo for coconut.

But here’s what really got me—they tout it as “naturally essenced”. (Even spellcheck knows that verbing that noun is an abomination.)

Marketeers, man.

Rewriting history

Back in the dim dark past, February used to have two federal holidays: the 12^th, honoring Abraham Lincoln’s birthday, and the 22^nd, honoring George Washington’s. At some point, the feds rolled the two of them into the third Monday of the month and called it Presidents’ Day.

This year, that was yesterday, and I’m really grateful that we got the day off. I needed it. (I honored the two titans in the traditional way: I went to Costco, to stock up on butter and laundry detergent.)

Well, except apparently in the state that touts itself as the Mother of Presidents. At the end of last month I had occasion to visit the local branch of the Fairfax County (home to Washington, as it happens) Public Library, and noticed that they marked it thusly:

They even cut off Lincoln from Rushmore.

Sore losers.

Gratitude Monday: walking future

I’m thinking I put the fear of something into Kayla at OrthoVirginia. (I wrote about my interactions with her of a couple of weeks ago, and her indifference to whether I got treatment or not.) Because she called me on Friday to tell me that my health insurance has graciously condescended to approve the hyaluronate, and now there are only about 14 hoops to jump through before I can start getting the injections.

At least three of the steps involve me taking actions, which is a far cry from the last time I went through this. Back then, and with a different insurance, the orthopod said I needed the shots, he ordered the gel, and a couple of weeks later I was getting them. Well, times change, I guess.

Sadly, it’s clear that I’m not going to get them started this time round before I go to the RSA Conference. That sucker takes up three halls of Moscone Center, and my attendance involves walking about ten miles a day on concrete floors. Fortunately, at least I was able to swap out hotel reservations, going from a $680/night (plus taxes that would bring it to about $800) “junior suite” at the Grand Hyatt (the only thing available that was remotely within walking distance when I booked in early January), half a mile away from Moscone, to one night in a “view room” at $573 and three in a “standard room” at $473 at the Marriott Marquis, which is next to the conference. This should make my company—which has a remarkably parsimonious travel policy—happy, and I don’t have to explain “junior suite” on my travel expenses.

(I did this by calling the hotel last week to see if there’d been any cancellations. The reservationist there sent me to the conference organizers, and an amazing customer rep named Crystal got me set up. At one point in the convo, I asked what the difference is between a standard and view room. She hesitated, then replied, “Well, I think the view room has a nicer…view.” Well, okay; seems legit. I’ll have to switch rooms after the first night—they didn’t have a standard room available for the Monday; but I’ve saved my company a few hundred and now I can afford to have cheese on my hamburger.)

But even with being next to Moscone, I know for a fact that those conference floors are brutal. I’m doing the exercises prescribed by my physical therapist, and I’m taking the NSAID prescribed by my orthopod. But I suspect they will be insufficient to counter those floors. Over the weekend I had a flareup of the pain—possibly caused by new trainers (I’ll have to check with the therapist), and that resulted in crappy sleep, because once I stop moving, my joints, tendons and muscles just give me hell.

I’m sorry I won’t be starting the shots until after the trip, but at least I’ll be getting them. Kayla told me the Rx can be used up to mid-April.

And today I’m grateful that this process is moving forward and that I scared Kayla enough to get her to start overcommunicating. Also—once I have that sorted, I’ll follow my the advice of my friend The Pundit’s Apprentice: I’ll start working with a personal trainer to get the infra- and superstructure of my legs into shape so I won’t need to repeat this mishegoss in the future.