My verbal sparring skills have certainly been getting a workout lately.
We have been spending weeks arguing about the requirements for the next version of this website I spend my days working on. Some people think it should work one way (also known as the klunky fucking stupid bad way,) and I think it should work another way (a.k.a. the user-friendly intelligently-planned good way).
I find that being the youngest person at the table, and for some reason being the most argumentative, (like I have taken on the mantle of Defender Of The Everyday User as if it were a sacred trust of some kind instead of being a pointless scuffle trying to pre-determine the needs of some random git sitting in his cubicle plotting graphs of electricity usage) is a strange role. I have no idea why I decide to argue so vehemently. Bits of me realize that I really do not care. Other bits of me revel in that flush of victory I feel every time I get someone to realize that a decent user experience is more than randomly hurling a save button and some mismatched fonts on the screen. To this end, I have been trotting out my big words, and even using some of those words that I hate -- crap about "leveraging existing assets," and "componentizing the homepage." I shudder every time I hear myself say it, but some of these businesspeople will only be swayed by words they recognize as their own. I feel like I use these phrases as familiar bait, planting the sneaky seed of my usability rebellion inside, hoping they will bite.
Now, if you will excuse me, I have some Girl Scout Cookies who are living in my drawer. They are crying out to me to end their suffering. I must away.