Walking the streets of Lund, Sweden’s Oxford, with my 4 year old son, we pass a stroller parked, unattended, outside of a café, with a sleeping infant inside. We ride our bikes all day and don’t carry a bike lock. I watch a stranger’s stroller while she darts in a…

This is a short writeup on my views on this news item, comparing it to when I recruited women into engineering roles in the 90s to now, and an anecdote about my niece, ending with deeper thoughts on the effects of diversity changes in corporations. <boom>. In the 90s, I…

As a middle-aged woman, I’m used to being ignored. Feels a bit like whiplash, once you’re and adorable young woman, and everybody is hanging on every word you say, then, you reach 40, and you’re a dumpy middle-aged woman who has to shout to get a drink. …

During summer breaks, in high school, and the first two years in college, I was a temp, working for “Kelly Girl“ and “Manpower.” After a day or so of summer break, I’d put on a dress, nylons, heels, drive my Dad to work up the Peninsula, then turn around and…

I was thinking yesterday, the slow-walk you do with the stroller, enjoying the trees, birds, and weather, about insecurities. I’ve been haunted by a comment a friend made, about a guy I was dating, but she didn’t know I was dating him. ‘You know he has a type (wink, wink)…

Sunday morning, and Kevin and I are discussing schedules. He wants to take the baby for a few hours, to give me a break. Both baby and I are recovering from colds and it’s been tough. Before I drift off into a nap, I think about what I want to…

Having a kid is a trip. You learn a lot of things about yourself. I got to revisit those learnings this weekend, when I went onsite to Google for the Women’s TechMaker’s Summit. …

After a coding camp once — an experience where I was teaching JavaScript engineers (that happened to be women) how to code in native iOS, a new acquaintance complained to me that one of the women in the audience “called herself an iPhone developer, when she had only coded one…

There’s something so Swedish about Christmas. Being a third generation Swede on both sides, I heartily embrace, with giddy delight, a very pagan Christmas, with decorations, parties, singing, horribly caloric food, and, well, depression- the darkness of a day of no light, and the miserable morning after when eggnog and…