Journal heironymouscoward's Journal: Things that need names 1
Today, the thing that needs a name is what happens when two women (or men that think like women, let's get the PC crap over with immediately) get together to exchange data.
A naive observer might imagine that women simply like talking. This is confusing the means with the goals.
When two women talk, they don't just discuss random subjects. They exchange information, in a structured and organized fashion. The exchange is highly personalised, and follows rules of economics: information has value and is exchanged on that basis. I'll tell you about such-and-such if you tell me about so-and-so.
I've remarked that there are many women who form long-lasting networks with other women, almost always based on who knows what, about whom. (Men, in contrast, form networks based on who can do what, for whom). There are many women who never do this, they tend to prefer the company of men and feel isolated in the company of other women. Similarly there are men who hate team sports and discussion of car engines. It takes all kinds.
Back to the two women talking. After observing this in many cases, and over years, I've come to the conclusion that the closest parallel is the synchronization of two devices, say my Palm with my Nokia. It's a peer-to-peer process - never three or more. It starts with protocol negotiation. Then the data transmissions start, and can last for hours, even days. Finally there is confirmation and error checking, followed by a signing-off and plan for future updates.
So, the term I coin is: "bluetoothing".
Observe your female relations and colleagues, and you will see that they inevitably pair off in spare moments of the day to bluetooth.
Note finally that the presence of a male disrupts two bluetoothing females. It's fun - try it sometime.
fish don't see water (Score:1)
i'm a guy who has lived with (usually) more women than men. i've had as many as four female roommates, and yes, the patterns change when men are visibly present as opposed to unobtrusively present. perhaps we'll call it bluehairing as we age...